Gonna be a part of it, New York

Survey: How many of you have spent an afternoon on Low Steps on
a (moderately) warm, (moderately) sunny day? If I were a betting
gal—and I am—I would bet the numbers are pretty
high.

Now, how many have, while chatting it up on the plaza, actually
looked up at the engraved marble of Low Library? In that spot, the
University has biblically carved in stone that it is “for the
advancement of the public good” How many feel confident that
it is working to fulfill that purpose?

More simply: How many, while sporting your light blue gear, are
aware that the official name of your university is in fact
“Columbia University in the City of New York”?
Honestly, do you regularly see more of New York City than our
perpetually green campus, Labyrinth Bookstore, and the West
End?

The level of exposure and civic engagement that the University
claims to give its students is questionable at best. It seems to be
stretching. But why? Clearly the school notes the value of public
service and public advancement. It’s proclaimed from,
literally, the rooftops. Are we, the students, then the problem? Is
it that difficult to get students involved in life outside our iron
gates?

It’s not as if, when applying to college, we all thought,
“I really want to go to an Ivy League school.
Columbia’s in the Ivy League. Too bad it’s in New York,
though. Well, heck, if I go there, I’ll probably never have
to see the big bad city anyway, right?” On the contrary,
I’m guessing many students choose Columbia because it is in
New York. So what’s the holdup?

While attempting to claim the benefits of her location in the
heart of... OK... in New York City, Columbia is unwilling to
jeopardize her image as an elite institution of higher learning,
set apart from pedestrian concerns (like the panhandler standing
just outside our gated community). “Ivy League!” she
screams, “Ivory Tower!” And the students agree.
We’re unwilling, for almost any reason, to compromise the
standard of our education. And rightly so. Our foremost
responsibility is to our development, our self-actualization, if
you will. There is a belief that encouraging community involvement
might cause service commitments to overshadow academic commitments,
and as much as we might want to advance the public good, these four
years are about our own advancement.

But there is at least one major flaw in this logic: the relation
between civic engagement and lower academic standards is a false
fear. Columbia should (and at times does) view the city as a
resource for learning and not as a distraction from it. But it has
to do so wholeheartedly. There is a decided unfairness in
acknowledging and making use of the city only when it suits us to
do so. New York gives us access to masterpieces of Western art and
music, yes; but it also teaches firsthand lessons of bureaucratic
failings, of issues of sustainable development—instances
evidencing the belief that the city can serve as a unique and
invaluable classroom.

Fellow Columbians, I encourage you to embrace that decision you
made to go to a school that could offer so much more than the white
cement walls of Wien and the stale-coffee aroma of Butler. Columbia
claims to offer us the city, a city that in turn offers the world.
It’s time for us to take our university up on her offer.
It’s time to ask her to show us what makes Columbia distinct,
what makes this education invaluable—or at least what really
makes it worth $160,000. It’s time for us to be a part of New
York, of all her grime and glory.

The University should create a structure encouraging students to
venture from our idyllic hilltop and into the public struggles, the
vibrant reality that makes this city what it is. This doesn’t
have to be a zero-sum game; it is one of those rare occasions when
everyone can win.

It’s going to take the support of administration, the
initiative of professors, and the pressure of students, but it is
possible to bring learning out of its bomb shelter. Columbia,
you’re not being attacked or being threatened. Students, come
out of those underground, windowless classrooms.

Because after your four years here you’re going to be just
another investment analyst, just another financial consultant, just
another unshaven grad-student, and then what’s going to
separate you from the other shirts? Well, I’m hoping
it’s that in college you had the chance to see, even perhaps
to impact, that proverbial “real world,” and that you
are a changed person for it. I’m hoping that spending four
years in New York, truly engaged with the city, made a difference
in who you are, but, just as important, I’m hoping that you
made a difference to New York. That, you see, would make it all
worthwhile.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in political
science.