As I step up to the well lit, brick covered building, which is perched atop St. Edward’s University’s hill, I walk through the glass doors of the John Brooks Williams Center into a place where I feel unwanted. As I walk down the halls, I almost feel as if I have traveled back in time to an old, abandon warehouse. The walls are covered in a bland mixture of orange and yellow paint, which makes me more nauseous rather than calm… almost.
The walls, which should be covered in posters showcasing school pride and spirit, are instead covered in warm, purple tones with an occasional “Math Tutor Wanted” sign, nearly falling off from the insignificant amount of tape holding it up. Inside, it is so quiet that if I were to drop a needle on the ground, echoes would fill my surroundings. What feels like a constant flow of nearly below frigid air sends a shiver up my spine, almost as if the students and professors who once roamed these halls surrounded me.
As I continue to make my way through the clean and empty halls, made up of concrete, wood and glass, I come upon one glass case in particular. Framed in beige wood, it sits alone in a corner almost making you feel the lack of attention it receives. Filled with minimal amounts of pictures and memorabilia, which look like they came out of the early 1900’s, I am immediately brought back into reality.
The John Brooks Williams Center has a “see-through-science” design, where people who pass by can get a look into the classrooms to view what the students are doing. I realize that even though the halls seem cold and empty, all of the experiments, learning and experiences take place inside of the classrooms.