COLUMN: Van renovations only skin deep

From Jeff Adler's, "Section 8," Fall '98 From Jeff Adler's, "Section 8," Fall '98With fall break behind us and midterms looming all around, many students are making daily pilgrimages to the newly renovated Van Pelt-Dietrich Library Center. For those who remember, it was not so long ago that the interior of Van Pelt closely resembled its ugly, brutish exterior. Entering that building was like condemning yourself to a dreary jail sentence. Then I went over to the Class of 1942 Information Desk and inquired where I could find the nearest restroom. The attendant politely told me the closest facility was in the basement. I asked him where the closest restroom was on the first floor. "Try the basement," he responded, this time not so nicely. After $7.5 million in renovations, the new library offers nearly 240 new computer stations, a fully functioning electronic classroom and a brand-new staircase, but no new bathrooms. And thus, my vision crumbled quickly before me as I realized, of course, that one should never doubt Brother Steve. The new Van Pelt is the same old dungeon hiding behind a bright new facade. I don't mean to knock the hard work of Vice Provost and Director of Libraries Paul Mosher, nor those who funded or assisted with the renovations. Yes, Van Pelt is a much nicer looking place than it was before. Yes, its long-awaited new computers make research easier. But how much of this metamorphosis is only skin deep? Take, for example, the Class of 1964 Look-Up Center. With over 200 new computers in the renovated areas, you might expect one to be available, but you'd probably be wrong. And if you do find an open terminal, your chances are about one in two that the keyboard's functioning. Even if you disagree and buy into the Brave New Van Pelt, surely the Man-Who-Checks-Your-Bag recalls those horrible memories which you've tried so deeply to repress. You might have found a working computer, survived the ancient elevators and checked out the only copy of that book which everybody in your class needs to study for the midterm. The work is done and you're headed home. But it's never quite that simple. There's still one more obstacle: The Man-Who-Checks-Your-Bag. Everyday this poor person is paid to harass students and faculty alike. He or she demands that you open your bag to allow a perusal for stolen books. Forget for a moment that it's free to borrow books (hence, no need to steal). Nonetheless, this person makes you stop and open up at least one compartment of your bag. And he would have us believe that with his quick glance, he is able to distinguish your class books from stolen library books, magazines or, in the worst cases, microfiche. Of course, it is unfair to come down too harshly on the Van Pelt renovations. After all, they were made with the best intentions, and they are by no means completed. Further work is planned for the Rosengarten area as well as the third, fourth and fifth floors. What worries me, however, is the shiny new gloss one sees throughout campus. I know that in the three years since I came here the University and its immediate surroundings have become much more attractive on the exterior. But as I think about the library, I also wonder about how much of the renovations and projects around campus are simply for show. After all, Penn has consistently tried to improve its image by hiding its weak points or glossing them over. Administrators worried about the frightening urban image of the campus (not to mention the fact that students were getting shot and killed). Solution: Force the food trucks off the street or into "fresh-air food plazas." Who are they kidding? The air isn't any fresher 100 feet from the curb. What about the marquees for Cinemagic, Smokey Joe's and FWOT? As if the these places have really changed for the better? All over campus, the story is the same. There might be a fresh new face, but half the time the same dumpy body is hiding behind it. Forgive me for continuing the metaphor, but the fact of the matter is that Penn students are sick of looking at dumpy bodies. We know that this school is better than that. But if the University is really going to change, the metamorphosis cannot be superficial. We cannot be content with our school simply looking nice. The change has to come from within and build its way out. A renovated facility that looks nice but only barely improves its previous self is utterly useless. It's an atrocity ranking up there with the highest of Penn's transgressions. And in Brother Steve terms, that can mean only one thing for the fate of the University: It will burn in a lake of fire!