Columns

CHEN | A Letter To Duffield Atrium

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After a quick morning Zoom class in my dorm room or a hefty dinner and bubble tea from Collegetown, I can typically be found climbing my way back to the engineering quadrangle and opening the partially transparent doors to the humble abode that has become my second home. I definitely am not alone — the simultaneous relief and motivation that sitting in Duffield gives me is a drug that hooks every engineer immediately after their first semester at Cornell. I will take this to my grave and to every life I am reborn into afterwards: If there was housing connected to Duffield, I would not hesitate to live there. 

The Duffield-Upson-Phillips conglomerate is clearly the shining star of the engineering quad. While the other surrounding buildings may be a classic brick and mortar structure, my second home glimmers in the sunlight in all of its silver glory. As the sun streams into the atrium, the students sitting there are refueled by probably their only source of vitamin D. The atrium’s floor-to-ceiling windows are not only stunning to look at but also completely functional for the wellbeing of all the struggling students inside. 

Within its walls, the various seating arrangements can also cater to almost any type of study session.

Opinion

SULLIVAN BAKER | Be a Tourist at Cornell

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When I leave Ithaca for good come May, I want to be able to hang on to more than memories. If you follow me around campus long enough on any given day, you will see me go out of my way multiple times to photograph Cornell’s scenery — both the beautiful and the mundane.  A quick glance at my camera roll reveals a sunset photo of a West Campus staircase, a crooked picture of the Arts Quad after the season’s first snowfall, a gloomy shot of my favorite bus stop and a 37-second video of the McGraw Tower chimes performing a spooky rendition of the alma mater on Halloween. And although I might look like a clueless Midwestern dad taking pictures for the family group chat, approaching Cornell like a tourist has led me to better appreciate my college experience, and it can do the same for other Cornellians

During my first three years here, I took my experience too much for granted; until the end of my junior year, graduation seemed to be a century away.  I allowed myself to get too caught up in the daily grind — the demands of prelims, the responsibilities of campus involvement, the stress of social life — to fully appreciate living a lifestyle I’ll never experience again on a stunningly picturesque campus in America’s best college town. And I realized that memories of unpleasant or high-pressure experiences have a way of crowding out memories of the fleeting yet meaningful moments of calm, usually outdoors, that bond me to this place and help keep me sane. A tourist mentality creates and elevates positive memories.

Opinion

TRUSTEE VIEWPOINT | One Cornell

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I look around Mac’s Cafe in Statler Hall and see a group of highly energetic, white Hotelies gather around a table to discuss their real estate finance project. A table away, three athletes in their team sweatshirts — I can tell from their facial expressions that they have just finished a long, cold practice in the snow — now search for the energy to study together. Another group of Asian students sit together in the left corner of the room talking about their courses. Two black, male students write on a white board in a conference room. Nearby, three engineers sit next to each other, each immersed in their work with their headphones in.

Opinion

PARK | All the Lies Cornell Told Me

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Hello, Josh. You thought I would let you smoothly transition to campus, uscathed by the burden of a strange, washed-up older sister? Or that I wouldn’t use the first line of my first column of my senior year to grant you the public embarrassment of your name printed in The Sun for all of campus to see? You really thought. Welcome to Cornell, my dearest brother.