COLUMN: Penn's not-so-safe campus

From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '99 From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '99Life must be interesting these days for Maureen Rush. The Penn campus is not safe. It is not safe in the heart of campus, in bars, in the early evening, in groups, in nearby off-campus blocks, for girls, for boys, with a whistle or with mace. Maureen, of course, is Penn's chief of police, charged with keeping Penn students safe. I assume it is quite disconcerting for Maureen, waiting in her secure security office for the next emergency call. Where will tonight's assault take place? I picture her sitting by her desk staring at a map of Penn and its surroundings, pondering the way crimes have begun to occur in areas previously considered safe. She must ask herself how and when criminals correctly deduced that they could get away with muggings at gunpoint anywhere they choose. She must wonder when criminals learned that no time was too early for a mugging. I imagine her reaching out for her phone in desperation. She could call Judy. But Judy? "Maureen," Judy would say, "I have given you more manpower. Get the bad guys away from my tuition-paying students. Now if you will excuse me, I have a ground-breaking to attend." Maureen might call her colleagues at Columbia and Yale -- they are usually empathetic and good for a few war stories. But even they no longer understand. Columbia, with her well-guarded "academic acropolis," has been having a pretty good run at sheltering students from scary Morningside Heights. And Yale is finally figuring out how clean up student-heavy parts of New Haven. So instead, she might call the Penn admissions office and ask them about campus safety. Finally, Maureen can relax for a few moments. A calm, soothing voice will spout facts and stats about declining assaults and murders and sexual offenses. But sooner or later, Maureen must remember that she herself helped compute those figures, and numbers do not tell the whole story. Because no one can quantify the horror and unacceptability of a student being assaulted in the bathroom of a central campus building. The effect of a knifepoint robbery outside of the new Inn at Penn, on a block that was supposed to be rescued from the dangerous great beyond. The embarrassment of having a male student mugged at gunpoint at 40th and Spruce at the late hour of 10:00. Or the freakiness of the recent bizarre armed robbery at Mad 4 Mex, an establishment that has been known to attract a few students on occasion. Damn, she must think. These kinds of things only used to happen out in the boonies at 42nd and Pine. Now they are right in my backyard. I can hear her silent prayers that the Penn student body remains as complacent as it has been. Life would be easier if the crime reports elicited no response beyond a small gray box on page two of the DP. Of course, there are always methods to divert any student attention that does arise -- Trammell Crow could lease space to another salad bar or Penn could open another retail store for rich kids who want to look like poor funky city kids. Rush's life isn't the only one that's become more interesting of late. I enjoy cajoling not one, but two boys to walk me across the street to Kinko's from Hamilton House. And a friend who lives all the way out on 41st insists on running home if she's not already inside when night falls. Some of us were worried that we were not getting the total Penn experience when lights and Specta-guards made campus more pleasant. Now, we need not fear; the old excitement is back with a bang. Thanks, Maureen.