Community for whom?

By far, one of the most exciting events at Duke occurs every spring when we "Get HOUSed." The elation, the disappointment and the confusion make it a special time of the year full of special moments at Gilbert-Addoms Down Under. This year made for a truly memorable experience, as Assistant Dean of Student Development Bill Burig lost more hair than normal dealing with irate students and their parents--not even the balloons could calm the sophomores or quell their threats. Duke Student Government reprimanded the poor fellow; his whole job really was turned upside down when someone turned to page 178 of the 1980 edition of The Random House Dictionary. Their eyes lingered on the page searching, searching; it's between "communism" and "commutation." "Community," the word that reshuffled housing.

The efforts to realign the University's undergraduate life into a more cohesive student body living in greater harmony and prospering intellectually in the Gothic Wonderland are nothing but commendable. However, a lack of infrastructure and foresight hinder the fulfillment of such goals. The West-Edens Link should have replaced Trent Drive Hall and offered housing to all who desired West Campus convenience. Instead of four dormitories, three will open this fall. Instead of housing in the tower, a coffee shop and a diner will open, adding even more exciting and delectable eatery options to our already supersaturated dining market. Instead of constructing sensibly sized dormitory rooms, WEL dwellers shall in some cases occupy 300 square feet between two people--they better have a walk-in humidor to fill all the space. The Class of 2004 will never know West Campus in the manner once promised to them; instead, our community no longer exists. We are scattered throughout East, West, Central and Triangle rental units.

While sitting with my Tuesday-Thursday lunchtime crew at the Marketplace, we discussed our housing situation for next year and decided that there must be a better way to shelter Duke undergraduates. I started to think about possible alternatives that might solve our dilemma. To unify all undergraduates, a 50-story high rise should be constructed on West, complete with rooftop Olympic pool, shuffleboard, coach Mike Krzyzewski replica court and glass elevators. This apartment building would house all classes. This plan would never work, however, since such a structure would obscure the Chapel's place in the Duke skyline. The next best option mimics Toronto to some extent and is rather complicated. An underground dormitory to house every class can be built below West. Everyone would live together and thus a community would thrive, the housing unit would double as a bomb shelter in the event of a strike from the Axis of Evil.

These options are really what Random House calls "a social group whose members live in a specific locality...." The entire University living underground could only result in a solid community such as the one I witnessed as a young boy watching "Fraggle Rock"--those Fraggles really got along, even living in a cave with all those Doozers. Locality is key to forming a community. The Class of 2004 will not be a part of the community next year, and independents have been largely relegated to Central and off-campus apartments. Friendships--the core of any community--will diminish as a result of the distances, and a class that started with great expectations will be left searching for an identity all over again in a rearranged Duke. Community cannot be forced--it is a natural occurrence because humans are social by nature, and the only way to truly bolster such an entity is through greater understanding and appreciation of each other, not through housing. A community already exists; the question is whether Duke's current state is dysfunctional enough to merit such drastic alterations to our social fabric.

The Class of 2004 will not leave this institution as a community. Rather, the new housing plan will destroy many opportunities for this class that its predecessors enjoyed. The housing plan was not broken; it did not require fixing. It is not too late to reverse the changes made. A well-intentioned plan does not succeed without proper execution, and the tools to work this plan are not in place at the moment. Wait 10 years until enough dormitories are on West Campus to accommodate all parties and allow greater interaction between all classes. The new linked housing cycles classes from one campus to another, creating four distinct communities rather than a solid entire undergraduate body. Do not sacrifice the Class of 2004's residential experience in order to expedite a good vision. It's not too late for all parties involved to act. Sophomores and juniors alike can still protest by flooding e-mail inboxes, interrupting tour groups and informing the prospective students of our dismay or even by setting up our own West Campus housing on a quad with tents. As West has not yet been occupied for the next school year, we can still reverse our fortune. And at the very least, I can still rely on dependable summer housing in Chicago, unless my parents have restructured my housing without telling me.

Kevin Ogorzalek is a Trinity sophomore.