Is this how Columbia wants us to practice for the swim test now?

Dear Columbia,

You need to get your shit together.

Like, okay, we understand that midterm season is approaching. Exams are stressful, grading curves are harsh and unyielding, you really just want to go to sleep. We feel the same way. But at the same time, isn’t midterm season pretty much always approaching? And should that really be an excuse to let your buildings and your standards fall apart in such a humiliating way?

Let’s take a look at the evidence, shall we? This week, we’ve experienced some disturbing problems. And not just math or physics problems (those, at least, we can pretend to solve), but real, challenging our physical and mental stability problems.

First and foremost: Carman. Of course, it would be during the coldest weekend of the year that there was no hot water at Carman. We repeat, NO HOT WATER. At home, sometimes the boiler would break and we would boil water on the stove before bathing in it; we thought that was pretty sad, but this was, without a doubt, way worse. At some point last weekend, we stood in the shower and tried to convince ourselves it was a really hot day and we’d been working in a gross garden all day and needed to cool off, but mental games only go so far. It didn’t work. We froze to death. When we called Hartley, they told us to go to another residence hall if we really wanted to shower, and you know what, Columbia? We considered it.

As it was, we remained kind of gross until the water came back on.

And we know Carman is an utter cesspool and a center of first-year thirst and decay, but did you then have to allow the pipes to burst and flood the entire first floor? And then, as though that wasn’t enough, the elevators broke! We might live on a lower floor, but we’re brave enough to ignore the dirty looks and take the elevator anyway, so it was kind of inconvenient. It was also really weird having to watch security guards pretend to scan our IDs and smile insincerely, because, let’s not kid anyone—that system was down as soon as the pipes burst. We’d be afraid of someone unwelcome trying to enter Carman, but literally why would anyone.

While we’re on the subject of flooding: Wien, Sig Nu, and Butler. Just three places that have been under water more often than not, these days. We didn’t know dryness was that much to ask for, but we are clearly operating within a structure of miscommunication. Or perhaps it would be better called a structure of subjugation – how are we supposed to study in Butler (Butler, the one place on campus that usually rigidly demands a harsh work ethic 24/7) when we’re worried about sewer water seeping into our backpacks? What’s next, forcing us to stay awake by giving us electrical shocks? Oh, wait – with the power strips in the new reference room tables secured only with blue painters’ tape, you’re already putting us in danger of that.

And then, when we actually manage to get to class, you force us to evacuate Hamilton and stand outside in the cold for almost an hour, just because of some kind of “serious incident.” If you’re going to exile us and make it necessary for us to walk up even more Hamilton staircases than usual, at least give us full disclosure. Have some human decency. Let us know that Deantini is okay.

Not even food offers a respite—when we went to Ferris yesterday, the scanning system was down and we had to leave our cards on the desk. Later, when we came back, there was not a single person manning the desk and we just strolled in and got food. It’s probably been a while since you took CC, so we can remind you: this? This is called social disorder. Maybe we should stick to 115th halal from now on.

As a last resort, we ventured across the street to Barnard, believing that even a school with constant construction would have better studying conditions. But there, we discovered that the usually-cozy Brooks study lounge is currently the approximate temperature of an outhouse in the Arctic circle. This is concerning, especially when paired with the state of the drink machines in Hewitt – the soda machine spews everywhere, the ice machine is consistently stuck, and the cappuccino machine was only operational for a couple of glorious weeks last semester that now seem like a golden-tinted memory. Barnard appears to be attempting to facilitate a hypothermia epidemic among its students. (And have you heard the systematic coughing in lectures this week? It’s working.)

Our dorms, our study spaces, and even our dining halls have been corrupted. Run down. Allowed to sink into the mire of dilapidation. And, frankly, as students who pay over fifty thousand dollars a year to attend this school, we don’t think this dangerous trend can be allowed to continue.

Tell us, Columbia – are decent living conditions really so much to ask for? Do you want us to fail our midterms? Or is this all some kind of ploy to weed out the less dedicated among us and give their spots to rich internationals who can pay for a hotel when shit gets really bad?

It isn’t. At least, we hope it isn’t. We hope you’re better than this. You aren’t an econ major in his third year waking up on an unfamiliar bathroom floor with penises scrawled across his face and the sudden realization that he just spent the last of Daddy’s trust fund, Columbia. You’re an Ivy League institution. And it’s really time you started to act like it.

Sincerely,

Your tired, cold, and almost disgustingly damp student body.

Just one example of the recent flooding epidemic via Bwog Staff