Senior Blue Zone blues

It's weird to acknowledge that I'm a senior. I certainly don't feel like a big man on campus around here. Seniors don't get a whole lot of perks here at Duke. We have no real traditions based around class hierarchy. Sure, we get to pick classes first on ACES, but in terms of the things that make a school's culture, we don't usually get preferential treatment.

Housing is a perfect example: while we get the first housing picks, we are not guaranteed housing on West Campus, and the odds of keeping many seniors living together on West are pretty low. Central is not all that appealing of a living situation for many; the buildings were clearly never meant to be more than a temporary solution.

We are, of course, afforded the privilege of living off-campus. And it is a privilege-my rent is much reduced from the campus costs, and I get my own bedroom!

And then there's the downside: getting to campus. I can walk and catch the bus, bike or drive. I live right off of East, so either walking and then riding or biking take about 15 minutes. Ironically enough, driving takes me the longest. It takes about seven minutes to drive to the Blue Zone, and then I get to take a nice 15-minute hike from the back of the lot.

Because it takes so long, I try to avoid driving, but sometimes it isn't possible. Buses can be unpredictable, especially when it's early or late in the day, and biking often leaves me a sweaty mess; it's pretty much out of the question if I must dress nicely for an interview or information session.

Still, off-campus and Central-dwelling seniors drive much more than anyone else. I didn't even own a car for my first three years at Duke. Driving and parking on campus is a prohibitively large pain. I can guarantee that I have walked from the back of the Blue Zone more times in the first third of my senior year than I did in the previous three years.

Sophomore year, my friends and I referred to the first lot on the left of the Blue Zone as the "draw-out lot," a poker analogy that really only made sense in the midst of the huge poker fad. Whenever coming back from a Cook Out run or what have you, we would always give a quick lap around the lot, hoping beyond hope to get extra lucky and find a spot. On the rare occasions that we did park in that lot, we always made an inordinately big deal out of it. My friends often refused to give me a ride somewhere on the grounds that they were parked in the draw-out lot. Fair enough, I thought.

Now, the system itself seems unfair. On-campus students drive far less than off-campus students. The benefits they get from having a close spot are lower simply because their cars will sit there for much longer (weeks instead of hours) than the average off-campus student's car would.

And what's more, the odds of me ever finding a spot in the draw-out lot now are astronomically low. I usually park at midday, when the whole Blue Zone is practically packed, and it is not even worth my time to swoop through the draw-out lot.

Of course, I'm almost always in a hurry when I drive to West-running a few minutes late to class, meetings or interviews. I fear that showing up to an interview as a sun-stroked mess from the hike across the Blue Zone might lower the chances of leaving a favorable impression on my prospective employers.

In other words, I hate, hate, hate parking in the back of the Blue Zone.

My solution is simple: reserve the first lot on the left of the Blue Zone for seniors who live off-campus. We drive the most, we've been here the longest and we would make the best use of the privilege.

Granted, the lot probably isn't big enough to accommodate the full flow of seniors during the day, but it would certainly help. I know that more senior and tenured faculty get some pretty prime parking: why not apply the same idea to students?

I know it seems like a small thing to complain about, but I think throwing seniors a bone here and there might make us feel a little bit more respected and more appreciated.

Jordan Everson is a Trinity senior. His column runs every Wednesday.

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