Squeezed in Squalor

As the South Campus Commons' final buildings neared completion in 2004, administrators and housing officials had high hopes that the housing crunch plaguing the campus then would near an end.

That didn't happen.

Two years later, South Campus Commons is full. University Courtyard is full. The rest of the old guard in student housing - on-campus dorm towers and a set of aging low rises - all full, with the longest waitlist in 20 years. So what did happen?

Administrators had for years envisioned a more residential campus, and the university was far from that 10 years ago: "We've become so hugely residential over the last two decades," Linda Clement, vice president of student affairs, said in 2005. "When I came here about 10 years ago, only 50 percent of freshmen lived on campus. Now 92 percent of freshman do."

That kind of boom represented a vast change from when many students commuted to the campus from outlying areas, while the entire Cambridge Community stood empty. The change came in the late '90s when the university over-enrolled and the campus population climbed dramatically. Carroll, Wicomico and Caroline dorms were badly in need of renovation, but, stretched for space, they were filled with students anyway.

A building boom followed, and in the years since, the university has used public-private partnerships - which invites developers to build projects on university-owned land to diminish costs - to construct three of the newest housing projects: University View, Courtyard and South Campus Commons.

Apartment options like Commons and University View have also drawn students away from other apartment complexes like Seven Springs, further increasing demand here.

"As more options closer to campus became available, the more students flocked here," Scott Young, manager for housing assignments in the Department of Resident Life, said in 2005. "We think the more we build, the more we would start to see some alleviation ... but it just doesn't work that way."

Despite that knowledge, a plan for a 500-bed dorm near the Center for Young Children on North Campus has been in the works for years. Officials even believed they'd saved enough money to go to the Board of Regents for a loan approval. That plan was shot down when the regents said no to the loan last year, however.

"I was disappointed that the Board of Regents didn't approve the debt for housing," said Deb Grandner, director of resident life. "I still believe on-campus housing is a wonderful experience for students, and there are many students that want to live in housing on campus, and I would like to offer them that experience."

Renovations for North Hill Community have been on and off the table for years, and at one point housing officials said the renovations could take place in 2010. But now, Grandner said no date has been set for the renovation, and students like Dan Santiago are squeezing into rooms that are quickly showing their age.

In an interview yesterday in Carroll Hall, Santiago, a freshman accounting major, eyed his dresser, which was positioned almost exactly in front of the doorway, jutting out from the wall, leaving his friends about a foot of space to squeeze through before they could plop down on a twin bed to play video games. But the inconvenience doesn't end with the cramped living space.

"Anytime someone flushes the toilet or uses the sink when you're in the shower it gets really hot," Santiago said. "Usually you have to warn someone if you're going to flush the toilet."

Residents couldn't say whether it was the poor air circulation or the shoddy plumbing that gave away the near-ancient history of the buildings, but it was no surprise to them that they were living in some of the oldest dorms to go without renovations.

"We have no air circulation at all," said Esther Leah Schoenbrun, a sophomore business major who lives in Caroline. "I mean, like we're suffocating. In the beginning of the year we woke up in pools of sweat."

Schoenbrun also said she had heard rumors of asbestos in the floors and ceilings and lead in the pipes - rumors that aren't necessarily untrue but also aren't jeopardizing students' health, said Jack Baker, director of operations and maintenance.

"There's asbestos in probably in three-fourths of the buildings on campus, but it's perfectly safe," Baker said. "People in residential facilities are very careful, as are we, with any asbestos-containing material. ... As long as they're intact and in good condition, they're perfectly safe."

He added that it's more likely there is lead in the paint than the pipes, but it is also perfectly safe.

"As long as students don't chew on the walls, they'll be OK," Baker said.

Peter Doyle, a sophomore finance major who also lives in Caroline, said the squeeze on housing is felt in his room: "We got our beds bunked, but I don't think there'd be room for them if they weren't," Doyle said.

After deciding to move to South Campus to be closer to class buildings, he's dealing with spotty plumbing and spent a week earlier this year trekking to a different floor to shower.

The housing crunch is unlikely to resolve itself in the near future due to the increasing number of students who want to live on the campus and the Board of Regent's lack of enthusiasm for using system funds for housing improvements.

"We need to preserve our own bonds for things like student union buildings," said Joe Vivona, system vice chancellor for administration and finance. "There, the private sector doesn't partner with you."

And while the university saw a peak in on-campus housing interest this year, there are still about 600 to 800 students waiting for housing every year, said Young, Resident Life's assignments manager.

"This year obviously was a higher waitlist but in all my years here in the assignments office, and I've been here 10 years, we've always had some number of waitlist basically since 1998," Young said.

Both residents and officials agreed that, regardless of how squished students can feel, they are still hankering to live on the campus where the action is - everything including McKeldin Library, Hillel, Knox Road and Route 1.

"The demand for our on-campus housing is so high that I continue to believe this is an experience they would like to have in their career here at the university," Grandner said.

But while some students will stay a semester or two sticking out the nonexistent floorspace and shaky utilities, many move on quickly if given the opportunity.

Sophomore Rachel Finkelstein, for one, has her hopes set on Commons and its seemingly luxurious kitchen and open spaces - a far cry from her crowded room and the sole lounge Carroll offers as an escape.

"It's time to have my own space," she said. "Privacy is definitely something I want at this point."

Reporters Ben Slivnick and Kaitlyn Seith contributed to this report. Contact reporter Sara Murray at murraydbk@gmail.com.