While I was working on writing a column about the Occupy Wall Street movement for this week’s issue, I happened to pick up a copy of last week’s Maroon to peruse the many fine stories the paper had to offer. After a thorough reading of the stories that I was interested in, I was convinced that I needed to change my column’s topic.

What caught my attention was the issue’s focus on Loyola’s ugly duckling: Monroe Hall. Apparently now that “Ollie Oak” is not there to hide this blight on the face of Loyola, all of our attention seems to focus on the building we sometimes wish was a submarine so it could disappear out of sight.

Though I am sad to read about a tree whose impact on the Loyola community was so enormous that we only thought to give it a name when it received a death sentence, the issue of windows on Calhoun was far more intriguing to me. So, since everyone seems to be occupying something nowadays, let’s all occupy a seat in Monroe next to a window overlooking Calhoun Street (believe me, there are plenty) and get down to business.

While I understand Mr. John Fenn French’s concerns about having windows overlooking his house, I have several problems with his complaint. First, and above all else, I would like to read through the agreement between Loyola and Mr. French’s grandfather. It hardly seems likely that this agreement forbade the university from installing windows along Calhoun Street in perpetuity. If anything, rather than suing the university, it would be more productive to reach a new agreement about the school’s Calhoun frontage. It is my hope that the current discussions between the university and Calhoun residents will come to an agreeable close without recourse to any further application of the law.

In any case, it appears as if Loyola has already violated this agreement by currently having, by my count, a total of 410 windows looking out over Calhoun Street, of which 25 are located on the second and third floors of Monroe Hall directly overlooking the residences across the street. Loyola faculty, students and staff don’t appear to be bothered by the 127 residential windows that allow residents to watch over students as they go about their daily lives.

This is not to say that Mr. French does not raise valuable concerns. My real point is that one could have much worse neighbors than a university. While I would feel slightly disconcerted were I in Mr. French’s position, I would still rather have a bank of windows opening up into a classroom or a professor’s office looking over my house than a nosy neighbor whose windows looked right into my backyard. When students go to class, they are (hopefully) not staring out the windows. Perhaps if the concern is people looking in to his house through the windows, an investment in curtains would be beneficial. If the Loyola community can see what is going on in there from the windows of the classroom, then certainly anyone walking down the street can as well.

One final thought: tinting the windows won’t prevent us from seeing you, it will only prevent you from seeing us.

Garrett Fontenot can be reached at [email protected]