In our somewhat-regular feature In Defense Of, we bring much-needed support to the most maligned Columbia (or life) institutions. This week, sometimes studier Alexandra Avvocato puts her books aside to defend that most notorious of reading rooms: Butler 209.
As a freshman, I avoided Butler 209 like the plague. According to established wisdom, it was the one place to go if you didn’t want to get any work done. It was the spot to “socialize” in Butler, where all the “non-serious” workers went. (Now, I look back at younger me and think, Who the fuck do you think you are?) I was a die-hard proponent of the cloister-like side rooms of the 3rd floor, or the secluded tables on 5 where the sun never shone. As a self-
deprecating respecting humanities major, I was taught to scorn the well-lit, normally arranged tables of 209 for the fake-ass pregame it was. There were also some dark whispers of 209 being populated exclusively by jocks, but let’s not go into that today.