Monday, March 1, 1999
Falling in love with UCLA not hard to do
APPRECIATION: Clean campus, beautiful buildings ingredients for
almost-perfect college experience
Every once in a long, long while I sit back and look at my life
and think, "Damn – I got lucky and I didn’t even know it." Today
was one of those momentous occasions. Today I looked at my life and
liked what I saw.
Today I reaffirmed a decision I made in my senior year of high
school. Today I came to appreciate UCLA.
Having a history of wanting to do cool things that never came to
fruition, I recently vowed to take the actions necessary to
actually do what I desired. So I made a mental "To Do" list: read
D.H. Lawrence, drive to Vegas, eat Cheez-Its, have a threesome,
rent "Swingers," go to a comedy show, stalk an old friend over
e-mail. Soon, "Go to Berkeley" made its way onto the list because I
wanted to visit friends from high school who were studying there. I
wanted to make the trip before I graduated, moved far away and fell
out of the college culture.
And so it came to pass that two months and $108 later, I was in
the air with Southern California behind me.
In high school, I always thought of Berkeley as the school for
people who were just a little bit smarter than I was, the school
that I didn’t really have to worry about because I could never get
in. It was the school of the ’60s, of the Free Speech Movement, of
social change and political rallies.
When fellow seniors got accepted to Berkeley, I couldn’t help
but think how lucky they were to be the best of the best (or just
better than me). And now, while I still think they’re smart, I
think that I’m luckier. They might be bright and hard-working and
driven and every other positive, studious adjective, but I go to
UCLA.
Berkeley was a strange place. It had its goods – the burritos at
Fabuloso, Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) access, hemp necklaces –
and its bads – street punks, city grime, weird smells. But I didn’t
get the comfy UCLA feeling.
Granted, I hadn’t been living, eating and breathing there for
four years, but the whole aura was different.
Even the renowned campus didn’t impress me. Maybe it was the
gray weather that made me long for home, but the architecture
seemed old and faded and the buildings a bit run-down. It had
character, sure, but it didn’t have splendor like UCLA. Its trees,
bare from the Northern California winter, looked arthritis-stricken
compared to the greenery with which we surround ourselves.
The Campanile offered an amazing view, but I could look at Royce
for just as long, and – let’s face it – 25 Campaniles can fit into
Royce (horizontally, of course). Sure, the new Haas building (which
houses the business school) was very modern, but it looked out of
place.
And their student store was a Pic-N-Save compared to our
glorious multi-level Ackerman.
Not that Berkeley doesn’t have its charm, with its vintage
clothes shops and used CD stores. It sure would be swell if
Westwood would cater to its 20,000 student residents. For example,
Illusion, our new "novelty shop" (read: we sell "water pipes"),
which has been open for a little over a month, is already being
threatened by the Westwood Homeowners Association.
At Berkeley, there is a smoke shop on every corner.
So, yes, the Berkeley area does have a distinct culture that
Westwood lacks. The stores cater to students with their cheap eats
and trend-setting gimmicks. When exploring the area, there’s not a
doubt in your mind that you’re absorbing the life of a college
town.
But it is crowded and dirty and you can’t walk five feet without
some 20-year-old kid (whose parents probably live in the suburbs)
asking for pot money.
Westwood, even with its homeless inhabitants, looks and feels
much cleaner. (When I originally wrote this, I also included that I
felt much safer here, but with the recent rape attempts, I’m not so
sure. I guess we still have a long way to go.)
But back to examining the positive. You don’t have to be an
electrical engineer to compute that we’ve got it good.
All you have to do is look around, folks! Open your eyes and
take in what you very well might miss when you’re gone. Bright red
bricks everywhere, blooming flowers and healthy green grass – let’s
hear it for Facilities Management – and quads fit for movie sets.
We even have a freaking sculpture garden! A sculpture garden! How
many universities do you know of that offer the opportunity to sit
your high horse (high arse?) on a piece of high art and examine it
and touch it while eating sushi?
Even Bruin Walk, with its proselytizers and freaks, is something
special because you get to look at Kerckhoff, our very own castle,
from which the ruling class of the Undergraduate Students
Association Council reigns. And no one can deny the smooth
magnificence you feel between the greats of Royce and Powell on a
twilight evening.
Even location-wise, we’ve got it all! We’re nestled right
between posh neighborhoods with everything nearby: movie theaters,
Hollywood, Santa Monica. We can swim, surf, ski, bike, rollerblade
or shop (my preference is clear).
But the true beauty of UCLA lives inside the buildings and the
architecture. The thinking that goes on within these famous
landmarks should make us just as proud as the landmarks
themselves.
People from all over the world want to come to this university,
our playground.
Foreign dignitaries make speeches, professors win awards, alumni
become successful.
And students learn how to learn.
What a great place. What an accomplishment to be proud of. So
relish in it. Live UCLA. Love UCLA. Don’t complain about one boring
professor without remembering those who have been passionate and
inspiring.
Don’t be so quick to criticize construction impediments without
admitting that you, too, want a beautiful campus, or a new parking
structure.
Don’t gripe about being accosted on Bruin Walk without realizing
that each flyer you get is someone’s cause, someone’s niche, one
niche among the many that UCLA provides.
This school definitely has its share of problems: overcrowding,
parking, bureaucracy … we’ve heard it all before. But what
university doesn’t have problems?
Please, if you’ve heard of a University of Utopia, give me the
number of its admissions office! Chances are, you haven’t.
Anyway, UCLA has enough perks to keep me satisfied, and compared
to the private schools out there, the price is right.
Maybe none of this is news to you. Maybe you’ve loved and
cherished UCLA since you’ve been accepted, or since your older
brother went here, or your Mom.
Maybe I should have seen the beauty of UCLA long ago. But what
can I say – I’m a late bloomer. And there’s nowhere else I would
rather have bloomed.
Stephanie Pfeffer
Pfeffer is proud to be a Bruin for life.
E-mail her at spfeffer@ucla.edu.
Comments, feedback, problems?
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