College campuses are often framed as spaces of growth, places where institutions expand, students thrive, and opportunities multiply. But too often, that growth comes at a cost that universities are less willing to acknowledge: the erosion of the very communities and cultures that make those campuses meaningful in the first place.
When the city commission rejected Tulane’s proposal to demolish the historic Ted’s Frostop Diner, it felt like a rare moment of pause. A moment where growth didn’t automatically win. A moment where history, culture, and community were considered before another piece of New Orleans was erased. But the real question is not just about Frostop, it’s about what happens next.
Because this will not be the last time a historic space is threatened. And if every decision continues to prioritize expansion over preservation, eventually there will be very little left that gives this city, and our campuses, their identity.
At Loyola, this conversation carries even more weight. As a Jesuit institution, Loyola emphasizes values like cura personalis, care for the whole person, and a commitment to building “a more just world.” But that mission can’t stop at the edge of campus. It must extend into the surrounding community. To truly live out Jesuit values means recognizing that the neighborhoods around us are not just convenient extensions of student life, they are living, breathing communities with histories, tradition, and people who deserve respect and consideration.
There is no doubt that universities need room to grow. More students means more housing and resources. But growth should not come at the expense of the very culture that draws students here in the first place. Ask almost anyone who toured Loyola, and they will tell you what stood out to them about New Orleans. The food, architecture, the feeling of a city that is literally like anywhere else in the world.
New Orleans isn’t just a checklist off of someone’s bucket list, but an experience. Students who go to school here are lucky to have that experience for four years.
And that experience is built on places like Frostop, but also like everyday spaces students come to love without even realizing it. Broadway, Maple, Freret are not just streets. They are part of the rhythm of student life. The walks to Mint, Dat Dog or Shugs between classes, a late night food run, or just a place to build memories. Years from now when we look back on our time at Loyola, there are the places that will define our experiences just as much as any classroom.
But with that experience comes responsibility.
