Like just about every other returning Dartmouth student this year, my excitement to be back on campus was almost entirely fueled by the anticipation of setting foot in the building formerly known as the Thayer Dining Hall. I can only imagine the goosebumps growing on the arms of juniors as they ascended the staircase to the building now called the Class of 1953 Commons; to have walked past this building everyday of sophomore Summer without an invitation of entrance, one could only imagine what wonders might await him or her in exchange for a summer without Jo-Yo's and spicy Russians.
The wait was well worth it. Yes, the Remix is gone, may the Tropic Breeze rest in peace. Yes, the convivial and intimate booths of Homeplate have been replaced by atrociously long tables that are not conducive to dining in anonymity. Yes, students who wish to eat Kosher and Halal meals must now wade through the gastronomic philistines of Homeplate. But my god, there are bathrooms on the first floor.
For years, students making the post-best-of-11-game-series trip to FoCo were fraught with fear that an urge to boot at any one moment would require a sprint down the FoCo gauntlet to the staircase, a tumble down the stairs and a mad dash into the proper bathroom before being able to expel the caloric equivalent of eight Big Macs. Fear not, fellow students, for the Office of Planning, Design and Construction has finally brought us change we can believe in.
But upon reflection of the Thayer bathroom redemption, one cannot help but begin to realize that Dartmouth, with all its endowment and Ivy League pride, has some serious bathroom issues. Oh, how I think back to freshman year in Fahey and the blissful amazement I had when I first encountered the revolutionary single-stall bathrooms that dotted the building. Despite what my parents told me, going to college did not in fact entail coming to terms with my public bathroom phobia.
If only I'd known how privileged and sheltered I was. For just across Tuck Drive in the Gold Coast, there were students that not only were forced to use public toilets and public showers; they were forced to use a public bathroom that included both showers and toilets! Have you ever tried to take a shower, only to realize halfway through that a fellow student is using the very same bathroom to defecate? The entire feeling of cleansing is lost and the shower is made ineffectual, useless.
But let's pretend that the shower-toilet cohabitation isn't an issue for a moment. Why in God's name does the College think that putting two shower heads in one shower stall is the equivalent of having two showers? Perhaps, you say, I am an over-privileged shower user who refuses to admit that maybe dorm showers are just smaller than other showers and the Gold Coast (and not just the Gold Coast but countless other dorms on campus) shower stalls really can accommodate two people. No! There is ONE door, and ONE lock for the two shower heads. Ah, but then the College's hidden munificence becomes apparent: they have actually made it possible for college students to get double teamed by two shower heads. I personally enjoy this most if, at the same time, I'm drinking one of the five Dasani bottled waters that I buy each day.
Aside from dorms, the greatest site of bathroom misallocations and inequalities is unquestionably the Baker-Berry Library. As I write this on Stack Level 5, I know that if at any moment I should need a bathroom, a single stall awaits me not just on this level, but on the level below me and the level above me and the level above that. Incredible.
But let's say it's past 2:00 a.m. and I need the good study vibes that can only be provided by a room full of stimming cigarette addicts, twitching their feet in perfect unison. Am I really expected to walk outside the 1902 room, circle the library and end up at Novack, only to have to double back to the 1902 room for a bathroom break that need only take 10 seconds? Of course not. But, as I find relief in the bush next to Sanborn I cannot help but think that I might be disturbing the nicotine and nitrous oxide breaks of my fellow studiers.
Or, consider the oft-repeated race from the basement of Baker to the men's bathroom when two students stand up at the same time: one man will find himself a king upon the throne of the handicapped bathroom's toilet, while the other will be forced to stare at the frightening words in the stalls of the Baker basement men's bathroom, which seem straight out of disgraced former senator Larry Craig's truck stop wet dreams.
Yes, the College has made one small step towards greater bathrooms for all with the dining hall renovation, but there are so many more pressing bathroom issues to be addressed. I just hope someone gives a shit.
