by Anonymous
Look, once you begin to voice your thoughts, silencing them grows ever more difficult. They say it takes two months to build a habit; this marks roughly ninety days of my oh-so-honest reviews, and I’m showing no signs of stopping. As my professors sometimes have encouraged me to do: “I must say what I think.” And so say it, I do.
As I tippity-tap on the keys of my laptop, I’m thinking of how small this campus is—close-knit, intimate, occasionally uncomfortably tiny—and how remarkable it is that I have had a class in every one of the academic buildings. At a larger school, I might not have even entered every library, much less roamed the floor of every hall on campus. Maybe that’s what my FYC class was getting at with all that emphasis on “the liberal arts and multidisciplinary education.”
As I traipse around campus, Cowan hot chocolate in hand and a half dozen books in my bag, I encounter facets of every discipline Centre offers. I find that each academic building is personalized by the students and courses within. Goodness. I’m getting sentimental. Or maybe semi-mental…it is that point in the semester.
I must admit that Olin is my favorite academic building. As a so-called science aficionado (I’m working on it), I was certainly predisposed to enjoy a building so devoted to the art of physics, math, and chemistry. In a tour that seems so very long ago, as I stepped foot onto campus not yet having decided to make Centre my home, I was captivated by the chalkboards, pendulum, and student research posters. What can I say? I knew I would spend hours upon hours studying in some STEM building somewhere, and Olin seemed as good a destination as any. One more thought, and I refuse to elaborate: the basement of Olin makes me feel as though I am a character in the film Hidden Figures (2017), and I haven’t decided how I feel about that.
Young Hall, while not as near and near to my heart as Olin, is a comfortable second for my affection. The geology and fossil displays really are amazing (although I suspect that they are partially to bolster the awe factor for parents on tour groups) and the classrooms are generally comfortable enough. The skylight is lovely, though some classrooms are regrettably dimly lit because of the renovations. To be clear, I am extremely in favor of those renovations, despite the unfortunate numbering system of the rooms.
Speaking of unforgivable numbering systems, there is the infamous monstrosity that is the floor plan of Crounse. Sure, it’s a building that connects to another building, has two separate basements, a ground floor that connects, and a third and fourth floor that are only accessible by staircase or back passageway. I had to double-check that I received my Centre admissions email instead of a Hogwarts letter, but I mustn’t despair; I attend an institution with shockingly odd architectural plans and decidedly less gibberish. In Crounse, I find myself focused, yet rather dreary. It’s all very collegiate in there: the studious, the chatterboxes, the sobbing, and the damned. (Hey, we’ve all been there.) Crounse, at the near center of Centre, ties the school together.
I’m not sure how many students would count Sutcliffe amongst the academic buildings, but I’ve had a class in there, the credit has gone on my transcript, and I am therefore obliged to include it. I am rather indifferent to it as an academic building, but the general atmosphere of Sutcliffe is fantastic. I’ve never once felt truly uneasy in the gym, and I would really like to commend every gym-goer for contributing to such a rare environment. There’s probably mold on the track and about twenty years worth of dead skin cells on the weights, though… so pluses and minuses.
Then there’s Grant… good old Grant. I never feel more as though I am attending a slightly dilapidated school in the Southeast than when I am sitting in a Grant desk, looking at a projector and a computer that barely runs Windows 8, feverishly enthralled with the lecture of a professor that is on the cusp of retirement. Even better, if I snatch a seat near the wall, I can pick up tidbits of wisdom from the next class over. I have loved those classes more than most, I loved my professors, and I love Grant, despite (or perhaps for) its oddities and strangeness.
JVAC, much like its location on the furthest corner of campus, was rather far from my mind for the majority of this scribbling scribery. I forget that it exists, I am glad that it does, and I have not much more to say on the matter.
The ideas and individuals within the brick of Centre matter much more than the buildings themselves, and I’m glad that they are as varied and neat as the people and opinions within. Their idiosyncrasies are for the best.
“We shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.” – Winston Churchill