CASEY HUBER
Special to The Leader
I believe in this college. I want it to succeed.
But I can no longer stay quiet about the long list of problems that this campus either creates for itself or flat out ignores.
Before I list my grievances (and more importantly, potential fixes) for SUNY Fredonia, I want to tell you why I believe in this college.
I transferred to SUNY Fredonia in the fall of 2019 from Grove City College in Pennsylvania. At the time of my transfer, I was borderline suicidal and so depressed about my carefully planned future that I wanted to give up on higher education.
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a physicist. I wanted to solve the world’s problems through science, believing that physics was my destined path. Grove City was, and still is, a small conservative Christian college that was both very affordable and had lots of money for programs. For context, Grove City is funded by the Sun Oil Company among thousands of wealthy sponsors and contributors.
I remember touring the campus for the first time. It was during the summer and no one was there, so we could only access the main administrative building. My father and I walked around the campus and found ourselves entranced by the care put into the architecture and layout of the buildings.
As we were walking, we found a groundskeeper who made friendly conversation with us. He actually offered to give us a tour of the campus and brought us to the new science building, which was the real reason why I was there, of course.
Walking inside this unassuming building, I was in awe of the glass elevators, common areas and the seamless integration of classrooms and faculty offices.
I was sold — hook, line and sinker.
Back home, I graduated from my high school with honors and turned down multiple offers for other colleges. I knew where I was going, and I knew what I wanted to do.
Then I moved onto the Grove City campus. I attended the classes. I joined the clubs.
And I hated it.
The classes were too difficult for me, consumed more hours than I had in the day in terms of workload and were not in the least bit fun.
I started to doubt my plan. My meticulously constructed plan that stretched years outwards became my mortal enemy.
The clubs were the best part of my time there, but only because of the person I chose to be rather than who I am. I am a bisexual and agnostic, both qualitities that were ostracised harshly by the particular brand of Christian that Grove City attracts.
So I played the part. I tried to believe I was something I was not and it almost killed me.
I was critically depressed by the end of my second semester.
I had “friends” that liked who I pretended I was and hated the person I hid from them. I had professors and mentors who set bars that I could not reach and looked down on me for not being good enough.
I was at the end of my rope.
That was, until I realized that I could transfer home.
What I have not told you yet is that I grew up in Fredonia; I have lived here my whole life.
And because I have lived here my whole life, my context for SUNY Fredonia was the annual occurrence of FredFest.
FredFest is the Fredonia tradition of students across campus gathering together to get drunk at the downtown bars, then wandering back Temple St. during the week before finals.
Fredonia was known as being, and still is to a lesser extent, a party school. I did not want to go to a party school to study physics when leaving high school.
When leaving Grove City, however, I was ready for anything.
A major incentive for me to go to SUNY Fredonia was being awarded the Excelsior Scholarship from New York State. I could live at home and have my tuition paid for, essentially going to college for free (with strings attached, of course).
So I applied. I got accepted. I transferred my credits and entered as an international studies major (which at the time was not a complete major) and journalism minor.
Then I started attending class.
The difference was night and day. I felt happy for the first time in a year.
I felt accepted by the people, by the staff, by anyone who did not show disgust or malice at my very existence. I found support amongst the Counseling Center, who helped me sort out all the emotional baggage that I’ve carried with me my whole life.
I believe in SUNY Fredonia because it showed me what higher education is supposed to be like.
But SUNY Fredonia is slowly dying.
Enrollment is down and therefore finances are down. Finances being down means that things get cut.
Things like the campus Tim Hortons.
I remember being in such disbelief from hearing Tim Hortons was closing. I nearly refused to believe it.
I go to Tim Hortons every day, often several times a day. It is a constant, consistent source of food and more importantly, coffee.
This is just another cutback in a long list of cutbacks that has affected me.
The closing of the Tea Rex Café. The closing of Sprout Café. The closing and reopening (and closing again) of the McEwen Café. The imminent closing of the Blue Devil Grill.
And the final straw, the imminent closure of Tim Hortons.
Students are feeling the same things that I am.
I see it, hear it and read it everyday.
“All of these closures makes it seem like the campus doesn’t want to invest in us,” said
Justine Bloom, sophomore Earth studies major.
Bloom is becoming progressively more disenfranchised with the campus.
“The only thing I’ve seen here since I arrived is more closure,” they said.
I am currently in an Investigative Reporting communication course taught by Professor Mike Igoe. Many students have chosen the topic of the school’s slow decay for their semester-long project, writing 10 to 12 pages about their findings by the end of the semester.
And there are many things to talk about:
The closure of eateries on campus. The millions of dollars in debt that SUNY Fredonia has accrued. The many, many water issues. The complete lack of preparation to Hendrix Hall when students with COVID-19 were moved there to isolate. The Kershnar scandal.
These are all cuts, slowly trimming away at a campus filled with great professors, caring staff and students who want to be involved.
What can be done to stop the bleeding?
The college needs to communicate openly and often.
How did the students hear about the Kershnar scandal? Not from the college first, that is for sure.
How did the students hear about Tim Hortons closing? Not from the college.
How did the students hear about the deficit we have been running for over 10 years? Not from a campus-wide announcement.
Communication is necessary for a healthy relationship.
We deserve to know what is going on, because the reality is that we are bleeding money and bleeding students. At the rate we are going, we may not have a college in 10 years.
I needed hope and SUNY Fredonia gave it to me. Now the roles have reversed.
I want to help this college and hopefully this article does that, but I am not in the room where these decisions get made.
Perhaps at the end of the day, I am just another student complaining.
But I hope you give my experience credence, because SUNY Fredonia is worth saving.