I come from a region of the United States that is regularly referred to as the “snowbelt.” It’s an unofficial term for those states directly due east and those southeast of the Great Lakes that receive gargantuan quantities of lake-enhanced snowfall every winter. Buffalo, New York — part of the “snowbelt” — made national headlines in November for the almost seven feet of snow that fell shortly before the Thanksgiving holiday.
When I was younger, I learned the responsibilities and the necessities of shoveling snow. I didn’t only enjoy the sight of a cleared walkway to my door. I quickly learned to offer, volunteer and occasionally even market my snow-shoveling abilities to friends, neighbors and any adjacent sidewalk clearly impassable without snow pants. Perhaps because I grew up in a small community where events such as snow removal were communal in their completion, it makes sense that I found dismay in the snow removal efforts on College Hill — or rather, the lack thereof.
As Winter Storm Juno moved towards New England last Monday night, I watched as the snow fell and the wind howled, receiving text messages from friends in warmer places wishing that they were here to experience a sample of winter’s wrath. Sure, the snow was beautiful to look at, and I was one of those individuals who trekked out Tuesday morning, walking about College Hill and around campus, to capture pictures and find tranquility in the stillness of a neighborhood generally buzzing with energy. The silent morning was as magical as any snow day of my childhood.
However, this winter wonderland of a morning differed from those of my childhood in a critical way: I am now an adult. To my knowledge, no Brunonian can qualify as a child anymore. Sliding down the middle of George Street and walking back along Benefit Street to my front stoop, I could see the daunting task that literally laid between me and my front door: endless snow waiting to be shoveled. And shovel it I did.
I was thoroughly impressed by the feat completed by University employees, who worked harder and longer than usual to maintain clear and passable walkways across campus. Their efforts deserve gracious recognition, as, even in the worst of Juno’s wrath on Monday morning, I could have traversed the walkways around campus in loafers without the threat of wet socks.
Though my lease maintains no clause for keeping a clear sidewalk, for the sake of the others living in my building and passersby, I pitched in and helped out. Why not? This is a question that I asked myself again as the second storm rolled in this week and that I now ask others. Why aren’t you pitching in and helping out?
I have Facebook, I read YikYak, I am in tune with social media and I was aware of what many fellow Brunonians were up to on their first snow day of the semester: having a good time. Walking around College Hill in the days after Juno, this became evident, as many cars, walkways and some streets still appeared largely impassable, particularly in areas of College Hill dominated by fellow Brunonians. Walking back to campus and watching University employees still toil away at snow removal, I could see the stark contrast, and I kept wondering: Was I one of the only students to pick up a shovel?
In a Feb. 1 email addressing Winter Storm Linus, which hit Rhode Island a week after Juno, Executive Vice President for Planning and Policy Russell Carey ’91 MA’06 urged the campus community to “take an opportunity to thank the many staff members who will be working throughout the night and day to address the weather conditions.” I am grateful to the men and women that continue to serve our campus through sun and snow. But is it really necessary for them to work through the night, too, as they did during Juno, when hurricane force winds blew? Is their safety less important than ours?
I think Carey’s email might suggest an underlying call to action to all Brunonians to grab a shovel and help out. Clear your walkways, clear your neighbor’s walkways, and help out where help is needed. Many of us are able-bodied, and a little snow removal is as good as any trip to the Nelson Fitness Center. Why did the University maintain such a large maintenance crew on campus during hazardous winter conditions, when the thousands of Brunonians living on campus could have pitched in?
It is a common-sense question I ask. With thousands of students around campus and out of class, why not rally together a massive cleanup effort? Why not cancel classes on days when travel is obviously treacherous and ask the student population for an extra hand in cleaning our campus? Perhaps a massive shovel-out event, followed by an open dinner at the Ratty? I do not see a better way to make use of snow days — rare occurrences that offer an opportunity to unite our community in a healthy, productive manner.
The snow is going to fall, no matter who you are — Brunonian or not. Let’s check the privilege, and start the shoveling. The next storm will be here before you know it.
Ian Kenyon GS is a Master of Public Affairs candidate with the Taubman Center. Following graduation, he does not anticipate living in a cold climate.
