Molly Tumanic

The highlight of my day is usually the two minutes spent in solitude staring at the elevator door.

Now, am I always alone the elevator? Not necessarily, but it’s silent nonetheless, because common elevator etiquette is that passengers not talk.

My sociology professor recently lectured that people protect personal space unless the lift becomes stuck, in which case people must befriend each other to avoid a panic.

I have yet to feel panicked while riding what could be the greatest invention ever. In fact, I find my elevator rides rather therapeutic.

True, my around two-minute ride is spent ignoring the girl taking her gerbil on a field trip or inwardly cursing the barefoot drunk girls who think it’s hilarious to press all the buttons, but the fact that these people push my buttons from time to time seems minuscule. The situations of the small space I step into before descending the hill elevate my mood, if for no other reason than that I’m entertained by them.

However, I knew some upsides to high rise residential living must come down if I was to make a change.

With that in mind, I got off the Towers bandwagon and secured a room in a hall where I’ll have to take the stairs.

The upside is I’ll avoid stares of fellow residents studying me, but really, who minds when someone reads their sweatshirt and exclaims, “I’ve been to your hometown!” Let’s face it, reading and meeting people is fun. It’s awfully difficult to read someone when you’re facing the elevator door, but it can be done if you focus.

Now, the focus here is not to glorify the almighty elevator, a reason why many select their floors. Yes, a common inquiry floating the halls decked with sign-up informational flyers is: “Can we take the elevator if we live on fourth floor, because I refuse to take the stairs!” Understandably, many think the idea of hiking to one’s room after hiking the hill needs to take a hike.

No, the focus here is to commend the Housing and Residence Life staff, including this year’s RAs, for their handling of those flocking to form floors.

Personally, this currently roommate-less girl who goes to bed late, rises early and studies best with music chose to live in Governors.

Some of my friends and I wrote our $75 checks Wednesday and went to check out the line accumulating. Let me tell you, there seems to be a lot on the line while standing in line, and waiting to approach the sign-up table was as tedious as waiting for the elevator to reach the first floor. We were inches away from finalizing our plans when …

The fire alarm rang.

I glanced up and prayed this wasn’t a sign from God as I joined the almost-residents standing in falling, freezing rain.

Now, if we freeze this scenario, I’d be standing in a circle walk surrounded by dorms. I’ll admit I was saddened when glancing at Towers rising up above all the others. Housing and Residence Life associate Deb Newman said in an interview that since Towers is the only high rise on campus, all other halls just have service elevators.

Those lucky enough to secure a spot in Towers North floors nine (there are 16 remaining rooms on that floor. Boy, oh boy, I wonder why.) and 10 and Towers South floors eight and up not only are able to take the elevator (it’s respectful to take the stairs if you live on floors one through four), but they can shift furniture as well.

When walking through the Towers’ lobby, I noticed the lounge full of distressed duos standing in line. Man, do they move for moveable furniture.

Governors has modular furniture as well, as do all halls. Newman noted while modular furniture is nothing new, the Housing and Residence life department has a commitment to continue hall upgrades “as things wear out.” Hence, stationary furniture is making an exit, as Newman said a desk from 1950 is different than a modern desk.

From experience, I tend to type on my bed rather than at my desk because I have more personal space. Throw on your headphones to listen to soft music comparable to elevator music, and you have yourself some quality alone time.

While I’ll miss the two built-in shelves atop desks in Towers, I’d assume many will not, as students typically do not drag their dear friends Emily Dickinson and Elizabeth Barrett Browning (in the form of poetry anthologies and quotationaries bigger than the Bible) to school with them. Yes, I’m a big reader in need of storage space and silence.

Lucky for me, I can look forward to lugging my laptop to Governors’ 24-hour quiet study lounge whenever I please. When accessing the hall’s information, I was excited to find such a place existed where people just study. I was so excited, in fact, that while my neighbor yelled, “Foosball!” when scanning the hall’s highlights, I exclaimed, “Quiet study!”

I’ll miss studying the large groups of people living in Towers (630 total), but I’m excited for a new space. Next semester, I’ll step into an empty room belonging to myself and a stranger I’ll befriend to avoid the panic of sharing. I’m ready to take that ride again.

The only downfall is that Governors doesn’t have an elevator.