Last week, the Undergraduate Council passed a proposal to create a women’s center at Hilles; yet, the idea struck a discordant note with some and incited knee-jerk criticisms from students who didn’t know what it was about. The plan’s antagonists were quick to condemn the center as just some half-baked ultra-feminist plot or a token effort to recognize women. Students who oppose the proposal, however, need to do some serious reassessment.

A quick look at the proposal reveals that the aims of the Women’s Center are actually far less controversial and more useful than the critics claim. Picture this: a place where anyone concerned with women’s and gender-related issues could access the resources they need. A place for women’s groups to share space and information in order to work together toward common goals. A place that could ensure that women’s and gender-related issues remain front and center on campus. Creating a Harvard-Radcliffe Women’s Center is the least that Harvard can do to address the needs of women here.

By now, most of Harvard’s peer institutions—including all of the Ivies—have recognized the need for this important space and have established women’s centers. Many of the centers are extremely popular. With 18,000 students and 1,000 faculty members, the Women’s Center at the University of California at Santa Barbara receives over 10,000 visits per year. Closer to home, the Yale Women’s Center just established a six-figure endowment to expand its offerings. That the women’s centers at other colleges are thriving suggests that a Harvard-Radcliffe Women’s Center would enjoy similar success.

By establishing a women’s center, Harvard would fulfill a pressing and unmet need on campus. Groups dealing with women’s and gender-related issues have been calling for a central space for upwards of thirty years. When a center existed at Harvard in the 1970s, it was frequented by dozens of women a day. Its failure had nothing to do with its usage rate and everything to do with the lack of funding and support from the administration. Today, Harvard students are still waiting for that support. Over a dozen groups have signed on to the proposal—making the proposal to establish a women’s center at Harvard a mandate.

Admittedly, establishing a women’s center at Harvard would not solve every problem facing women on campus. But just because a women’s center alone won’t stop sexual assaults, or provide the equivalent of male final clubs, doesn’t make it a “token effort.” The Women’s Center is meant to help students and organizations find each other and the resources they need—objectives that it can achieve with proper support and funding from the administration. Indicting the center for failing to do something it doesn’t purport to do is illogical and unfair.

If women’s and gender-related issues were the domain of a single student group, critics would be right to insist that organization simply “follow procedure” to obtain space. But the women’s center is not a typical student group. It would be open to all females at Harvard; and, while over a dozen distinct groups—from the Association of Black Harvard Women to the Radcliffe Union of Students—have voiced the need for a center, the standard process doesn’t allow them to apply jointly for the center they wish to share.

Those who argue that to call one space a “Women’s Center” is to trivialize women’s issues also miss the point. Setting up a women’s center would not—and indeed, should not—preclude the College from taking further steps to improve women’s experiences at Harvard. From granting tenure to more female professors to continuing to reform its policies on sexual assault, the College has plenty more to do.

But at the same time, Harvard shouldn’t deprive students of the opportunity to do their part. If students concerned with women’s and gender-related issues are finally granted a space and a springboard to share ideas, strategies and resources, they will be much better equipped to attain their goals—and to identify the next steps Harvard should take to make the campus a better place for women.

Michael Gould-Wartofsky ’07, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Thayer Hall. Asya Troychansky ’07, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Weld Hall.