Recently, the undergraduate classes have been urged by the Office of Residential Life to seek out off-campus housing options, in an effort to ameliorate the problem of over-enrollment and overcrowding. As a veteran commuter to UR, as well as a lifetime resident of the greater Rochester area, I strongly caution my fellow students against moving away from the Zip code 14627.
A pamphlet highlights the supposed benefits of moving off campus. However, based on my experiences, moving off campus is not as desirable as advertised.
In a fashion much similar to that of the ResLife propaganda pamphlet, I give you a few more aspects of off campus life to “imagine”:
1. Imagine yourself parking next to your professor in a spot only a stone’s throw away from the Erie Canal.
Commuter students are assigned to one (and only one!) lot, affectionately known as Park Lot. For those of you who may not be familiar with this lot, you may remember patiently waiting in your car on move-in day in a parking lot far removed from campus. Yes, all the way out there is where we park – in a lot so far removed from campus that it is not even depicted on official maps of the River Campus.
Some might argue that Park Lot is just as far as the Graduate Living Center (GLC) now being glamorized as “Southside,” but I would like to emphasize that GLC has a shuttle bus, whereas Park Lot students must hoof it in all weather.
And, although Park Lot is for commuters, this also seems to include “commuter” professors and librarians who snatch up what little parking remains after the lot was downsized by 50 spaces before fall 2006.
Lesson here: get to campus early, forget about wearing cute, fashionable shoes and stock up on ice scrapers and snow brushes.
2. Imagine yourself still eating campus food, even though you swore you’d never choke down another Pit burger.
Martha Stewart could cook in your kitchen, but UR still makes you have a $400 meal plan. My friend Liz aptly named this requirement the “commuter penalty fee.” Apparently UR thinks that if I chose to live with other people, I just might starve to death without their Danforth grub.
To be fair, the plan is all declining, but wasn’t the point of living off campus to sip wine with the posh couple downstairs (ha!) and avoid the wait in the pasta line?
Lesson here: If you’re too lazy to hit up the Pittsford Wegmans, do some of your shopping at the Corner Store.
3. Imagine RPD as your new Resident Advisor.
With moving off campus, you lose many luxuries of dorm life, like having facilities at your beck and call, or your RA to handle those not-so-friendly issues. What happens when you no longer have those luxuries? You get to call the fix-it man, and wait all day for him to come, and then wait for him to fix or not fix your appliance, and maybe come back another day at another undisclosed time (more waiting), and then sign on the dotted line. Too bad he doesn’t take declining, right?
Now, remember those weeknights when at 2 a.m. your neighbors decided to launch an intense tournament of Franzia-pong? And you kindly knocked on their door and asked them to mind the quiet hours, or if that was met with opposition, you got your RA? You can forget about that once you move off campus. Believe me, the (19th) Ward does not have quiet hours, nor does it have a friendly RA to sort out complaints. Instead you have to call the Rochester Police Department (RPD) who may or may not respond in a timely manner, depending on what other acts of crime and violence are plaguing the city streets that night.
Lesson here: The grass isn’t necessarily greener off the Res. Quad.
4. Imagine high-fiving your neighbor’s son as he gets off the bus, and then having him mug you the next day.
Despite the picture ResLife has tried to paint, the Ward is not a place of Care Bears and rainbows. There’s a reason the “felony footbridge” is called just that. In the spring of 2003 the brothers of the Psi Upsilon Fraternity were attacked, out of the blue, in their own house by teens from across the river. That same spring, two graduate students were mugged on the footbridge by kids hardly in junior high, claiming to have a gun. Just this past winter, a shooting occurred not too far away from Chi Phi. As college students, we shouldn’t have to worry about being mugged en route to biology. Therefore, if you really want to live off campus but still near our dear Rush Rhees, look into places in the White Coat district, Corn Hill and the better part of the 19th Ward.
Lesson here: The Ward doesn’t have blue lights and phones, so don’t get into situations where you might be in need of one.
5. Imagine the Dominos pizza guy getting into the dorm buildings, but you can’t.
When you become a commuter student, the University believes that you have no business, want or need to get into the dorms. For two years, I got around being locked out by calling friends or entering buildings with another student, until I learned you could fill out an application to have your ID activated. Even so, the application asks why you need access to the dorms. Isn’t being a full time student enough? It feels like the pizza menu guys can get in dorms easier than commuters who pay tuition.
Lesson here: Go to ResLife and get the application for ID access. You have to reapply every year, though.
Living off campus can be a great experience for undergraduates, but I am hesitant to buy into the University’s housing propaganda. Before the University convinces the masses to move off campus, they need to address some commuter-related issues, like the lack of commuter parking and the mandatory meal plan.
If the University presented some initiatives to assist commuter students and actually proposed following through with such, I would then (maybe) endorse the University’s desire to have students look off campus for housing. However, at this time, I am strongly opposed to the way in which the University is encouraging students to move away from the dorms.
Page is a member of the class of 2007.
