At SVSU, there is no doubt that this university’s location, architectural design, and ecological preservation creates a beautiful and functional environment on campus.
Whether you walk at night through the dimly lit sidewalks that encase the Gazelle fountain near the president’s courtyard or admire the vibrant hue of the wildflowers that engulf the protected wildlife prairie, which is mere footsteps away from Bachand hall, you’re met with a beautiful view.
It seems that campus is very capable of being pleasing to the eye, which leads me to wonder why some areas are left void of function and aesthetics. For this piece, my focus is on the grass plots that are contained within the University Village and New Pine Grove dorms here on campus.
While there are students that make the most of their backyard by creating a seating area, bringing grills to cook on, or yard games to play with friends, the lack of diversity of foliage and landscaping for these areas reduces what could be vibrant community centers to liminal spaces.
With no natural or hardscaped barriers to break up our line of sight from one end to the other, this creates a sort of panopticon effect when in this space where we can’t know for sure if we’re being watched, but the likely possibility that we could be at any moment forces us to act accordingly.
Not only does this deter some people from using the area for leisure, but it also creates an environment that isn’t pleasant to be in.
Aside from the untapped potential for social interaction, grass lawns are the quintessential example of colonial monoculture here in the United States — they serve no purpose other than to appeal to outdated traditions and with that, should be reconsidered, especially since the upkeep of nonnative grasses is labor and resource intensive.
With that, I can imagine these liminal spaces being turned into third places within the residential villages that provide the opportunity to just be.
I am no landscape architect, but I think adding foliage that varies in height would alone make these plots of land more desirable. Trees, tall grasses or bushes could provide habitats for our beloved fauna while also creating natural barriers in our line of sight for privacy. The newly planted foliage could enclose the heart of each plot of land, that I think should be hardscaped common areas with trails like veins, intricately weaving through the new landscape.
Of course, money is a limiting factor in how these communal areas look and what materials they’re made of, but ultimately, it is the people who would really contribute to the warmth of the area through friendly encounters.
These common areas would ask nothing of the students — we would be able to come and go as we pleased without a fear of feeling out of place.
Benches, tables and lighting would be meticulously positioned to accommodate everyone and cater to casual conversation. Also, aside from static features of the new backyards, dynamic features like student kept gardens, social events, and fire pits (this one may be a stretch) could further enhance the feeling of belonging.
In the midst of a busy semester that begs of us our time and attention, I can imagine that in utilizing these bare plots of land to create a comfortable space right outside our dorms, we can more easily tune into our surroundings and re-enchant the present.
