One of the most romantic things about being a student at Harvard is living in the historic Houses. But settling into the former rooms of John F. Kennedy ’40 or Matt Damon ’92 comes with a price: everything from problematic plumbing to haunted heating pipes to roach palaces. As we all discover sooner or later, the white-trimmed, brick beauties that we call our homes for three out of the four years we spend at college are anything but ideal. And clearly, Harvard has realized this as well.
SOMETIMES WE MUST CONCEDE TO YALE
Following in the footsteps of Yale, set to renovate its 10th residential college over the next academic year, Harvard administrators began a discussion last summer of the possible plans for renovation of its own residential houses. According to Suzy M. Nelson, associate dean of residential life, the potential plans are varied, with timelines lasting from 10 to 30 to 50 years, with the main goal being to correct basic issues such as plumbing, heating, and fire safety, while also hopefully improving the use of space. If Harvard decides to proceed with the 50 year plan, the Houses would be gutted one by one, and thoroughly renovated. In the meantime, displaced students would be housed in a temporary dorm provided by the College.
To understand exactly how a large-scale renovation would affect the campus, we can look to our rival: Yale. After doing a partial renovation of Calhoun College, one of its residential colleges, in the summer of 1989, Yale realized that renovating was much more complicated than expected. And so, it was back to the drawing board for the community college. The resulting 15-month renovations of each residential college was the solutions, and Yale is now on its ninth project, the reconstruction of Jonathan Edwards College.
Displaced Yalies are inconvenienced both by a feeling of isolation and also by the lack of a dining hall. But like Harvard Quadlings, Yale’s swing space residents do become quite close-knit.
“Personally, I met a lot more people living in swing space,” says Yale student David J. Lee ’10. “You’re trapped in your college, so it forces you to know everyone very well. It creates a better sense of community.”
Despite the disadvantages, most at Yale are excited by the prospect of a newly revamped home. “Students recognize that their college needs to be renovated,” says Jonathan Holloway, master of Yale’s Calhoun. “They’re very excited, but they wish it wouldn’t happen on their watch. No one’s really opposed to it.”
And the students at Yale, for the most part, agree. “Millions of dollars are being invested,” Lee says. “It’s going to be amazing.”
THE HARVARD FACE-LIFT
At Harvard, student opinion of the campus wide housing overhaul is divided. While some support the large-scale renovations that would relocate students, touting it as a necessary part of keeping the historic houses as viable living options, others prefer short-term fixes.
Plus, the decision to undertake such a large-scale housing renovation has not yet been made. The proposals can’t be put into motion until approval is granted from various parties on campus. “There is a discussion going on about renovations, but there is not any information that can be said,” says Faculty of Arts and Sciences spokesman Robert P. Mitchell. “In the future, there will be a full report.”
But even if the plan is not yet official, students can agree on one point: Harvard’s Houses are undeniably aging. Living in historic buildings has its perks, but it also comes with downsides: tempermental pipes and unreliable heating, to mention two. These problems are not only uncomfortable, they have also resulted in physical damage, like flooding in Leverett, Cabot, Eliot, PfoHo, and Winthrop.
When Winthrop dining hall flooded last February, students were less than pleased. “There was two to four inches of water in places sloshing around, and it smelled horrible,” recalls Winthrop resident Roxanne L. Pinto ’10. “We put on our rain boots and went downstairs in C entryway. There were cockroaches all over the floor—they don’t die when they drown, I guess.”
While the inconvenience to Winthrop residents was short-lived, Pinto laments that the “super-sanitary, kind of gross” smell persisted for a week.
A similar plumbing incident occurred in Kirkland, where the residents claim to live with a haunted bathtub. The plumbing has backed up several times this academic year alone, spewing “gross black sewage” into their bathroom. As if that weren’t enough, the knobs once became stuck mid-shower.
“Our entire bath was going to flood, but there’s a window and we live on the second floor,” says Van H. Le ’10. “We took off the screen, and my roommates started bailing water out the window.” Needless to say, residents walking past Kirkland “did not understand.”
Despite these inconveniences, many students take what their houses throw at them with good humor, be it a temporary pool in what was a dining hall or just a grumpy bath tub. “It gives our House character,” Pinto says. “Moving out for an entire semester? What kind of House spirit would you have?”
Le agrees but also admits that “If it gets much worse, you don’t have a choice.”
While most students can take a fair bit of trouble from their Houses, renovations are inevitable. For current students, the implications of the yet to be determined renovation plan will probably not have any effect. As outgoing Dean of the College David R. Pilbeam said late last year, “You folks won’t see anything, but your sons and daughters might.”
Our sons and daughters might be fortunate enough to experience the product of all of these potential plans for renovation, but for now, all we ask is to eat our soggy pasta in a not-so-soggy D-hall.
