COLUMN: Why 24 stories don't fit into a house

From Kieran Darcy's, "From Downtown," Fall '98 From Kieran Darcy's, "From Downtown," Fall '98When I'm home for the summer, I always revel in the feeling of being back among family again. My mom, dad and brother know me so well, and it feels good to be back among people who care about me so much. Yet, I have to be honest, it doesn't compare in the slightest to the warmth and sense of caring and community that you can bask in when good old Harrison House (a.k.a. High Rise South) welcomes you back into the fold. The first thing I do after move-in is make up a visitation schedule: every day, I will pay my regards to a different floor of the house, introducing myself to all my fellow residents. Gifts may or may not be exchanged, but I'm guaranteed a smile. OK, had enough of my sarcasm? Probably. My purpose is not to criticize the staff of the high rises, nor the residents of the high rises. I'm criticizing elements of the University's new housing system, the "21st Century College Houses Program. But first, there is one loophole to mention. Since the program by name is for the 21st century, I will give the university 15 months to obliterate the high rises. But I wouldn't put any money on it. Anyone want to join me for an end of the millennium party in the rooftop lounge of Harrison House? It'll be quite a scene. Hey, I'm living in the high rises for the second straight year, yet I'm calling for their annihilation? I actually don't mind living there at all. But the high rises are incompatible with the new initiatives set forth in the college house program. And despite the University administration's very worthwhile efforts to improve community living on campus, this energy is wasted on those three architectural masterpieces. With close to a thousand residents in each high rise, small intimate communities are impossible. It is simply ridiculous to refer to a 24-story apartment complex as a "house." I even prefer the rather amusing "skyscrapers with sunset views" description which makes its way into the new college house guide. My personal favorite high rise view is of the immense spotlights streaming down from the roofs, giving the area that "penitentiary" feel. Obviously incoming freshmen don't have first-hand knowledge of the changes in the University's housing system. But since I've been fortunate enough to live in both High Rise South and "Harrison House," I'd like to mention the changes I have noticed so far. For one, I've been told a member of the faculty now lives in the building. Whew, what a relief. Last year, there was no RA on my floor and I never met the RA responsible for our floor -- and that was just fine. This year I have a graduate advisor who gathered the whole floor together to sit in a big circle and play name games! We didn't have time to get in Duck-Duck-Goose, though. Name games. Now that should remind everyone of freshman year orientation. Yes, silly little games to help people get to know each other is appropriate and beneficial in the case of nervous bug-eyed freshmen. Freshmen don't know anyone at the beginning of the year, and they need help. Which brings me to my other major criticism of the new housing program: the decision to abandon freshman-dominant housing in the Quadrangle, Hill House and King's Court/English House. Freshmen should be housed together. They are all going through the same difficult adjustment process and it's good for them to know that they are surrounded in their hallways and buildings by people in the same predicament. Upperclassmen like myself may snicker in September when they see packs of 50 kids swarming the sidewalks headed to fraternity parties or eating 30 at a table in the dining halls, but it's good for them. The new college house program overall is a good effort by the University. But certain realities need to be faced, especially regarding Penn's urban environment and those damn protruding towers. Personally, I would like to load those suckers with explosives and detonate. It would be a party that students would never forget -- implosion would be the talk of campus. Then, the administration could build smaller, more house-like dormitories that conform to the new residence plan. University President Judith Rodin would probably agree with that idea. When first revealing the college house plan, Rodin said that, "Superblock seems to me to be a real missed opportunity." Unfortunately, an engineering survey last year determined that implosion would not be cost effective. So, if we are stuck with the "skyscrapers with sunset views," administrators should at least acknowledge that the high rises do not fit into the college house plan, and it is foolish to try to force them. Put freshmen together so that they can go through the adjustment to college life, together. And let upperclassmen in the high rises bond in their own accustomed ways -- such as by mutually condemning anyone who takes the elevator to the first three floors.