Consider before you chop

By Alex Gura

For those of you who don’t know, the library will be under construction next year as the new Kutler Center, named after the late Brendan Kutler ’10 who excelled in the interdisciplinary studies that the center will foster, will be beside the library with Seaver.

However, this will make it impossible for students to use facilities such as the Silent Study room, and as such a temporary building will be erected to use for the duration of the construction.

What is both saddening and frustrating, though, is the fact that this new building will be located right outside of Rugby where, until very recently, an old and majestic tree stood.

For as long as even the oldest teachers can remember, that tree stood through good and bad, scandals and awards and remained a constant place to relax and think. Countless teachers have elected to transplant their studies under the shade of that old tree, which has stood for nearly 50 years through the Harvard school years and the merger. It has provided a level of peace and order in what sometimes can be a very stressful environment.

When we as alumni come back to reminisce about our high school experiences, we will want those places and things that tied us to this campus to still be around for us to cherish.

The corners that we laughed in, the classrooms that we learned in, and the special areas that we found and enjoyed are certainly different for every student, but they mean just as much as the people we met and the experiences we had.

These constants are often taken for granted and not truly appreciated until they are gone, and we recognize the empty space that now is only a warm memory.

Often, though, we console ourselves by saying that what has been destroyed is making way for a new, better place, like the cherished middle school campus that was completely renovated and now has become foreign to older students. However, there is a certain amount of frustration that comes when something that one holds dear is cleared away for something that will soon be forgotten.