During the Rose Cafe last week, John Schroeder didn’t hold back when it came to talking about the state of housing affordability in Ithaca (which, by the way, is a very emphatic not good). Of course, it also wasn’t unexpected. I mean, does anyone at Cornell feel good about housing? For me, applying to be a Rose Scholar and continue living on West Campus junior year was the best decision for me time-wise, money-wise, and, to be honest, food-wise; however, my housing plans for senior year are still up in the air, and I’d rather not be caught in the headlights when the next lease-signing season rolls around.

Having watched my friends camp out at a rental office earlier this year for a total of 24 hours in order to just claim a room – not even worrying yet about the price – I know firsthand how difficult everything about off-campus housing is. It’s funny, in the most ridiculous sense of the word. In the fourth grade, I was taught that food, water, and a suitable habitat are the three basic needs of all humans by my science teacher…and yet, here I am, ten years later, watching everyone around me struggle to fulfill one of those needs.

Obviously, I’m not a huge fan of the housing situation in Ithaca, but John Schroeder’s presentation brought up a lot more nuanced details than I originally considered. For one, I never considered what he called “Cornell’s complicity,” which is the idea that if Cornell decreased the cost of dorm residence, local landlords would also be forced to lower their prices – an easy concept in theory, but one made more complex by House Professor Blalock’s reminder that Cornell does not pay the same taxes the landlords are forced to pay, and such competition could be considered highly unfair. Another great point brought up was the fact that Cornell is building a Sophomore Village on North Campus, but this notion’s potential was dampened by the corollary that most of the housing would be a swing space for residents displaced from other dorms undergoing renovations. The most eye-opening thing I learned, however, was that most of Cornell’s staff (non-faculty) live outside the county because they can’t afford to live closer to Cornell. These people, who cater to the needs of Ivy League students at one of the country’s richest, most exclusive universities, can’t afford to even live where they want – why is no one else talking more about that?

All in all, I left not feeling significantly better about the affordability, access, and safety of housing in Ithaca, for both students and local residents – but John Schroeder’s reassurance of progress was, at the very least, more comforting than what I’d heard from other, less qualified sources.

I’m not an economics major, nor am I studying urban planning or government; I am an average, anxious student who just wants to have a nice bed, a clean bathroom, and a functioning kitchen to go home to at the end of a grueling day at Cornell. Going to this Rose Cafe expanded my narrow perception of the housing situation, and filled in some of the gaps in my understanding of development in Ithaca. Previously, I’d come up with a slew of “solutions” to the housing issues, and wondered why none of them had ever been implemented – as you can probably guess, those “solutions” weren’t as good at solving problems as I believed in my tunnel vision state. John Schroeder didn’t hold back, but I’m glad he was honest and willing to engage with us.

Plus, my roommate and I managed to snag a cool poster with a sketch of Ithaca in the 19th century before we left, which is now covering up various unsightly blemishes on the wall of our dorm (fun fact: apparently, just the exterior upkeep of our dorm costs upwards of several hundred thousands to one million US dollars, which explains why no one has bothered to remove the old adhesives left on our wall by previous residents).