Tree Staff Writer
A few weeks ago, construction on a steam line servicing Toll was completed, and the fence blocking the front entrance of Goldstein Hall was taken down. During the project, only the back entrance to Goldstein was accessible to students.
Everyone remembers where they were when they heard the Goldstein fence had been taken down, but what no one can seem to remember is how long ago it went up. To many, the fence was as much as a part of Washington College heritage as May Day, the Victory Bell, or lack of public transportation.
While some professors may have called the timing of the incredibly long construction project “unfortunate” and “disruptive to classes,” we can all agree that the absence of a fence blocking the primary and most convenient entrance to classes has disturbed many.
Carlo Peet, a pre-pharmacology student, found herself too confused to navigate her Goldstein classes in the past post-fence weeks. “I’ve been going through the front entrance and I have no idea where my classes are. I mean, I’m just standing there for hours at a time, trying to remember how to get to them.”
That isn’t the only thing Carlo misses about the fence. She said that the fence “allowed me to breathe in the sewage steam wafting near the back entrance of Goldstein every day.”
The demolishment of our beloved fence was only the latest blow to the student body. We are now left without a fence or mold.
Earlier in the fall semester, our campus experienced a friendly invasion of bees in Smith, and contractors were hired to remove the bees and put them in Brown Cottage (though they’ve now returned as zombees). A black mold outbreak in Minta Martin Hall was cleaned up, and students affected by the mold got a housing upgrade by being moved to the much classier, but considerably less moldy, Kent Hall.
Skylar Hancock, freshman, was stung by the extraction of the peaceable bees. “Personally, I don’t get the malignant false advertising of calling ourselves a bee-friendly campus,” she said. Skylar also personally volunteered her dorm as a location for any future bee re-housing efforts.
Zo Luna, a freshman who made the difficult choice of continuing to live in Minta after the mold was gone, expressed her disapproval at the extraction efforts made by residential life.
“I mean, why did I come here all the way from Long Island if they were going to get rid of the mold in my dorm? I was told I was going to have a great freshman experience. I just don’t see how that can be anymore. If I knew this college was going to be mold-free, I never would have come.”
The mold clean-up in conjunction with the fence coming down was especially devastating to Luna.
“Now that the fence is down, I can’t breathe sewage air… now that the mold is gone… I can’t breathe moldy air. What am I supposed to do? Transfer to UMD?”
In the meanwhile, we can only cling to the hope that other campus pastimes, such as rolling Wi-Fi outages, cold shredded cheese on top of Martha’s fries, and funding cuts won’t be taken from us.