In 2016, I was an eighth-grade student at a small school located in New Hope, PA. The anticipation of a new school year ran through my veins. However, when I rode the bus to the school I attended since I was 5, I noticed something different: chain link fences.
The perimeter of my middle school was surrounded by dull gray fences, and as I looked around, I noticed the men in hard hats. As I entered the hallways I had walked countless times before I observed the missing ceiling tiles and planks of wood laid in the grass outside. Each class I attended was accompanied by an orchestra of jackhammers and power drills. What I thought was going to be a breeze of a year turned out to be a year of disorientation, confusion, and questions.
My high school graduation was also impacted by this construction, having to be moved to a secondary location. The construction at New Hope-Solebury came to somewhat of a conclusion as I began my first year of university. Today, they are restarting renovations on our football field, restarting the cycle of construction.
Flash forward to January 2024, I am a second-semester junior whose education is, yet again, being disrupted by renovations. Originally built in 1962, the Haupert Union Building, better known as the HUB, is a staple on North campus. Students spend countless hours in that building studying, getting food, and even working at their on-campus jobs.
When I came back to campus after the semester break and learned that Moravian officially broke ground, I was nervous. I was concerned I wouldn’t know where to go and that I would feel like a lost puppy. First entering the HUB post-construction, I felt disoriented again; the dark and empty hallways seemed to be more haunting than the Comenius basement. Then there are just the minor inconveniences like having to remember to go to the library for my mail or to enter The Star from outside.
This makes me concerned when bad weather strikes. What will happen when students are lined up outside and it starts to rain? Are we supposed to stand there while we get pelted by rain?
This construction has undoubtedly disrupted the flow of life at Moravian. Due to the construction, the power has been turned off to the lamp posts, which, in my opinion, is a safety hazard. Walking back to my dorm from a club meeting at night, I felt uneasy. The darkness seemed endless and daunting.
While I appreciate the school wanting to renovate and change with the times, I can’t help but feel a sense of loss for the Moravian I was accepted to. When I came to this school, it was quaint and full of history. The HUB was the epicenter of my first two years of college; it was there that I would finish my homework late at night, study for exams, and eat when The Star had nothing I wanted. To see this building be gutted is devastating, disheartening, and, more than anything, disorienting.
I fear for the students who are coming to Moravian and will have to endure this chaos. Walking to The Star is not easily accessible for individuals with disabilities. The chain-link fences have moved to block the entirety of the sidewalk, forcing students to walk on a patchy incline to get to the dining hall. This seems to be a common occurrence for Moravian to not have appropriate accommodations for people with disabilities. These renovations are disrupting the educational journey of current-day students who will not even be around to see and use the new facility. Personally, I am disgusted by the lack of care the university seems to have for its current student body.
