Library Walk pisses me off on a whole other level, and I avoid it at all costs, with only two notable exceptions. One, I occasionally feel like taking surprise selfies with the crazed Christians; two, I am regularly in the mood to watch someone fall to their death from one of those tiny Penny skateboards. Like, if you’re going to live by a stupid trend, I may as well get to watch you die by it. At least the people who choose scooters as their mode of transportation know they aren’t cool.
Anyway, Library Walk. Given how decentralized UCSD is, Library Walk is essential in providing it with some unity. I do love Library Walk in principle, yet the trek through it on a busy day is just too horrifying. My friends tell me that “The LW” is one of the best parts of our university. But if I’m here for one purpose, it’s to take a dump on everything you love. And that’s exactly why I am giving it the Triton Side-Eye.
We are meant to be enriched by all the activities and groups making themselves known, but I feel like a character on “The Walking Dead” whose storyline is about to be cut short. The heartbeat of our campus is too busy pumping out cheap cupcakes and frat events to keep us alive. Every organization understands how the space works, and they all aim to use it in exactly the same way — white noise. Methinks there is little coincidence in this behavior happening next to the commercial entity of our campus. The treats may sell, but the ideas don’t.
The environment of Library Walk is a concerted effort to erase uniqueness in the name of superficial togetherness, despite UCSD’s six-colleges inviting us to embrace individuality. If I can see that through my gin-slash-lemon-slash-olive oil-slash-gin cleanse induced stupor, so can you. We are lucky we don’t study somewhere that defines school spirit with face paint — we aren’t six years old. The centerpiece of student traffic deserves to be a stage for specific groups and interest to shine instead of assimilating into a meaningless block of nothingness.
Occasionally, Library Walk does us right. During one week each year, it converts into a positive display about the Israeli/Palestine conflict. Speaking of attempted cleanses, I’m now being told that while this gin is lifting my mood, I have apparently mistaken “jam” for “gin” and that it was meant for topical application (explains why I’m not getting the glow I was promised…whatever).
When we are lucky to have something great, there is invariably going to be some other all-to-typical display distracting from the magic: groups that can only entice with free food, a hoard of homosexuals crying out for people to “Hug a Gay Person,” as if letting people know it’s safe to touch us is an effective form of activism. Quick side note that hugs are a real problem on Library Walk. I couldn’t even register to vote last week without being accosted with free hugs and biblical hymns. A bit much, to be honest.
My point: Library Walk is generally an instrument to overbear us with strategic mass appeal. It all seems rather empty for what many consider the heart of our campus. It plays into what I see every day: thousands of people who seem hell bent on presenting themselves to the world by slipping into the anonymity of UGGs and a sweatshirt. If the place we traverse most can’t live us out of that, then the UGGs have won, god dammit.
