Not much changes in four years here

I was caught behind a pair of ladies slowly strolling down Locust Walk at rush hour on Tuesday, when I heard one say to her friend: "This campus changes every time I'm on it." And her friend responded, "I know, I hardly know where I am." And as I cut left and walked on by, I thought to myself, "What are they talking about? We still don't have a supermarket or a 24-hour diner or enough basketball courts to accommodate even half of those who want to play. "My four years at Penn are running short, and the University has yet to fix most of the problems that existed when I arrived." Not, of course, that I'm entirely forgiving of the University when it does try to solve problems, particularly when I'm inconvenienced by construction that won't be finished until after I've graduated. Like most students, I'm happy to benefit from buildings whose construction inconvenienced my predecessors. But when it comes to new construction, I wish the University would wait until next year. Next year, when I'm no longer living here. This is not how long-term residents relate to the neighborhood around them. When workers in my hometown began construction on a sidewalk in front of my house, my parents were overjoyed. No matter that the jackhammer chorus woke us at dawn. This was home for a long time to come, and having a sidewalk out front would make it a better place to live. But we are just four-year residents of University City, and we often live in three or four different places during that time. There is little in the way of construction that won't seem more trouble than it's worth when you're only living somewhere for a year. This rule also holds true for retail development. When Burger King closed to make way for Sundance Cinemas, it was hard to find an upperclassman who saw an upside in the loss of another fast food establishment. So what if a movie theater was coming in a couple of years? Penn might as well construct a telephone switching facility on the site. Juniors and seniors would be long gone by the time either was done, and benefit about equally. The mantra of not-during-my-time-at-Penn is reinforced by the perception that the University never finishes building anything on time. So if you were a sophomore when Sundance Cinemas was first announced -- and I was -- you still felt justified in turning to your nearest friend and betting that you, too, would never see a movie there. As I did. It's not that anyone really expects that Penn will build everything and do it on the announced timetable. Perelman Quadrangle took a wee bit longer than planned. So did Sansom Common and Freshgrocer. And so will Huntsman Hall and the new Dental School building. Plans to upgrade recreational facilities are constantly revised or set aside, the Dorm-Dining project has been circumscribed past recognition and Robert Redford has left us with nothing but an abandoned construction site. But hey, that's life. You aim high and fall a little short and pat yourself on the back and try again. And no one expects that Penn will announce realistic timetables. I can just imagine the startled looks on the faces of the assembled dignitaries if a University official stood up and said: "This here building is going to cost us more money than we have -- what with our little problem over at the Health System -- and there's not a chance in hell we're going to get it done on time." The real problem is existential. The rate at which Penn's landscape and skyline change is not commensurate to the rate at which we ourselves change during our time at Penn. Our rapid evolution from childhood through experimental excess and into gradual maturity seemed entirely unreflected in the University's relatively static physical form. We move from a room in the Quad to a High Rise apartment to an off-campus hovel. From freshman seminars to lecture halls to senior seminars. From frat parties to bars to Smoke's. And from high school girlfriends to random hook-ups to mature relationships. But ah, the frustration. Through all of these transitions, the campus remains largely the same. Yesterday, I was a different me than I am today, and yet my classes are still in the same buildings and I still live in the same place. And I still can't get scrambled eggs at 3 a.m. And so, next year, I'm moving on.

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