On the Worst Lecture Halls: Cantor Film Center
Paul Kim, Deputy Copy Chief
The very fact that you have to line up outside of the Cantor Film Center before your class stuffs this flabby excuse for a building at the bottom of the lecture halls ranking. I already struggle to make it to class and you’re telling me I have to line up to get in? I already have reservations about lining up for things I enjoy, like food, rides at Disney World and dessert. So no thank you, lines at Cantor.
But that’s just the beginning.
The rooms on the first floor of Cantor are arranged with two rows of seats on either side of a central hallway. This would be fine; I would have no problem with this arrangement except for two things. First, the rows of seats are tightly packed, leaving very little wiggle room for moving toward the far end of the row. Second, most students immediately take the aisle seats. Look. I get it. You like the aisle seats. I like the aisle seats. But this isn’t a Southwest flight, it’s a class. Scoot in, my dude. If you see an empty row and take the aisle seat, I am warning you now that I will not feel bad, not even a little bit, when my backpack gets uncomfortably close to your face as I pass by while doing that weird side-step scoot to get to the available seat that you should’ve taken. Moral of the story: move all the way down the row. It makes all of our lives better.
On Literally All of Bobst
By Melanie Pineda, Opinion Editor
Like most other first-year students, Bobst Library was one of the first places on campus I was drawn to. I specifically remember standing in the lobby in awe during my first campus tour as the overenthusiastic guide proudly boasted about the library’s 10 million volumes. I pictured myself studying and reading to my heart’s content on the 10th floor with a picturesque view of the Empire State Building. The fantasy I’d invented vanished during my first midterm season many moons ago. Not only is there a limited number of lounges where you can speak, eat and study as a group, but it takes 20 minutes to find any seat in the first place — and that’s on a good day. You can also forget about finding a decent bathroom during exam time because every single one is going to be either out of order or you’ll wish that it was. Imagine how much more space there would be if Bobst didn’t have a gigantic 12-story gap in the middle of the building for seemingly no reason. Because of the library’s rather obnoxious design, every hall is almost always filled with students and their scattered piles of work who weren’t lucky enough to find an actual chair. It’s not too much to ask for a spacious library, is it?
On Being Hot and Then Cold in Silver
Mansee Khurana, Deputy News Editor
Listen, I love philosophy. It’s the best. It’s engaging, it makes me think and it never asks me for a right answer. One time, I was so excited to do my philosophy homework that I canceled plans with my roommate. However, do you know what makes philosophy so difficult? Learning about it in a classroom where the air conditioning doesn’t function. That’s right, Silver Room 406. I am calling you out for your terrible, intermittent air conditioning that either makes classes way too cold or too hot during a two hour, 45-minute lecture about the impact that John Dewey had on progressive education. I just cannot focus under these conditions, and I never know if my carefully planned outfit — which is solely planned to accommodate whatever temperature I have to sit through — will work for your unpredictable conditions. More importantly, it makes even the most dedicated philosopher-in-training — the one that does all the readings! — fall asleep.
On “The Lesser Peet’s” at Kimmel
By Yasmin Gulec, Under the Arch Editor
Peet’s Coffee is my social hub. I have been going there between classes to hang out and work since my first-year fall. I run into everyone I know there, I do interviews there, the bar stools that face Washington Square Park are great and the tables close to outlets are even better. Peet’s plays the music I am too embarrassed to play on my Spotify. I don’t even like their coffee — so know that I only go there for the atmosphere. However, like any good thing in life, Peet’s disappoints. During peak student rush hour, it gets so full that tardy plebs, like myself, have to whip out their purple IDs and cross over to the other seemingly just as fulfilling side. But wait, while you walk over to the other side expecting to find the same comfort as Peet’s, you are immediately disappointed. Limited outlets, no tables and mystery-stained couches welcome you as you look over at the lucky students sitting at tables studying on the better side. But hey, don’t show your envy that quickly. Learn from your mistakes and get to Peet’s early — so you do not have to cross to the Lesser Peet’s.
On Everyone’s Favorite Building: 194 Mercer
Hanna Khosravi, Opinion Editor
Ok, friends. No surprises here, and don’t groan at my lack of originality. But let’s talk about 194 Mercer. I’ve had some wonderful classes in that building, with incredible professors. I have beautiful memories of classroom discussions, and I’ve even looked forward to the walk down Broadway towards SoHo every Tuesday and Thursday because it meant a walk to my favorite class of the semester. But all of those literary memories are, of course, framed against the backdrop of a pale, windowless, fluorescent-lit cave of a classroom. After my first day of college classes there my first year, I remember feeling genuinely alarmed that all of my classrooms would be that dim and claustrophobic. Yes, my sense of panic was not about Writing the Essay itself, but rather about the gloomy box we sat in during class. However, I soon learned that is not the case. NYU classrooms rock — I love getting to experience the top floor rooms at the Global Center for Academic and Spiritual Life with their abounding and impeccable views, the cozy recitation round-tables in Rubin Hall, the West Village charms of the Casa Italiana or literally any part of the Journalism building at 20 Cooper Square. But 194 Mercer is a downer. It has a sort of strange, melancholic vibe. And yeah, that’s nothing a great professor can’t fix, but I’m also having a lot of trouble describing that building as anything other than “gray.”
Opinions expressed on the editorial pages are not necessarily those of WSN, and our publication of opinions is not an endorsement of them.
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