Laura Merrell
There are numerous traffic and transportation issues on this campus, from cars refusing to stop at crosswalks, to golf carts zooming around on sidewalks, to some students’ refusal to stay even remotely within parking space lines. But the largest problem that’s pushing my buttons is the traffic light that was installed on Beall Avenue this year.
Yes, I understand that not all students follow the instructions that were plastered around our dorms. I understand that some have also ignored the email that clearly outlined the rules for usage of the new light.
However, many students, including myself, make a concerted effort to obey the rules to no avail. As I stand around with other students at the light waiting for the crosswalk sign to change, we are abruptly faced with a dilemma: the approaching cars suddenly stop before it’s officially our turn to go, but the little man on the crosswalk sign is nowhere to be seen.
General bafflement and consternation ensues, and after a moment of indecision, the students usually venture across the street so as not to keep the line of cars waiting. The other option is to awkwardly wait on the sidewalk while the line of cars idles. Although technically if the red hand is still up, it’s open season for cars to just drive straight through.
My crossings at the new light often end in shrugged shoulders and a mild sense of awkwardness. I’ve heard many students simply avoid the light by using the many other crosswalks that are light-free.
I understand that the light is specifically designed to deal with the congestion around lunch time, but the issues of cars stopping before the light changes to allow the groups of students to cross persists. Just as many cars stop as did before, even though they don’t have to.
For the traffic light to have a chance for success, the drivers, as well as the students, need to fully comprehend how the intersection works. Both need to be instructed on how to navigate that crosswalk. Maybe this can be addressed by a road sign for the drivers. Still, all parties involved need to cooperate and have a mutual understanding of that intersection to make the light work.
A more trivial but nonetheless vexing problem on campus is the golf carts. Let me be clear that I don’t mean the golf carts driven by members of food service, who provide the delicious cheesecake I cannot stop buying at Old Main Café, or the golf carts that provide rides for the injured or the elderly.
I’m thinking of the golf carts driven by just one student with no noticeable supplies besides maybe a backpack who often silently sneaks up behind pedestrians on the sidewalks of Beall. I often ask myself, “where are they going? What is their purpose?” On a campus so small that I could walk briskly from Bornhuetter to Scovel Hall for my geology class in about twelve minutes, why do those students need golf carts?
If we must have golf carts, for safety’s sake, they can at the very least institute the general practice of saying “behind you” or “on your left” to announce their presence. Sometimes in life things hit you hard, and I don’t want that thing to be a golf cart on the College of Wooster campus.