Campus safety on the backburner

Greg Scherrer
Editor

It is midnight, and a lone female student walks through the secluded, wooded campus of the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. The light cast by the sparse lamps that illuminate the walkway is enough to discern the path—perhaps even to identify a passerby at a short distance—but certainly not enough to flood the path and remove all shadows.

She walks with a bookbag, enjoying the night air around her. One could say it is even a stroll; not so much as a second thought is given. Off in the distance, a boisterous group of students returns from a late-night study session. Or maybe a party. It doesn't matter, really. They are insignificant.

A tall man approaches her on the path. She smiles and greets him cheerfully, though she does not know him.

And at a fork in the path ahead the blue light above a safety call box provides enough light to read a sign hastily taped to the front of the phone: "Out of order. Keep running."

She laughs.

She laughs because it is only a joke. It doesn't make her feel any less safe. Despite the obscure darkness and the inherent seclusion, William and Mary has probably one of the safest campuses in the country, and by student accounts, certainly the campus police and transportation departments take that obligation very seriously.

Could the contrast with Tech be any more radical?

Certainly, one does not expect such carefree living on a campus in a city where violent crimes occur at five times the national average, according to 1996 figures. In fact, one shouldn't expect that in a city that by all accounts is a crime leader—and is distinguished in that title.

However, campus safety seems to be sitting on the backburner. "Protect yourselves" is a great mantra—one which the students try to embrace—but when the infrastructure simply is not in place to handle self-protection, the great advice suddenly becomes as much of a joke as a sign that says "keep running."

The transportation infrastructure simply is not serving the students, but certainly serves to belie the very principle of protecting oneself. Example: A girl sits at SAC at 10:30 on a weekday night. A Stinger has not passed by in half an hour, but a call to the Stingerette service produces the gruff reply of "You're on a Stinger route. Wait some more." Can you tell me when one will be by? "One should come every 20 minutes." I've been waiting 20 minutes. "It will come." Can I get a ride? "No, you're on a Stinger route." Another 15 minutes, and a Stinger still has not arrived, but a car with four loud males does. She gets a ride.

This student made it back to East Campus safely, if not somewhat disgusted (and rightly so). But what if the ride had taken a different twist? What if nobody had even come or cared? What if the student had chosen to walk back because the transportation that's supposed to be there wasn't? What if that walk to East Campus had led right to another—grimmer—statistic? I wish this were the only transportation nightmare I've heard this quarter, but I've heard more horror stories in two weeks than I could count on one hand.

The plain truth is that transportation and security are woefully inadequate. The recent reorganization of the transportation services hierarchy, especially with regard to Stinger and Stingerette, has done nothing to increase the responsiveness of the system.

The lighting, even though it has improved markedly in post-Olympic times, is inadequate. At least Cherry Street is getting an upgrade while it's closed. Must every road undergo a steam line replacement and quarter-long closing to get a lighting upgrade? Well, then, let's break out the barricades, because the campus needs the light.

The call boxes—especially in some of the dimly-lit (and crime-prone) parking decks simply aren't there. "It's in the works," and "The contracts are being re-bid." Would a rape or knifepoint robbery speed up the bidding process any?

And who would feel safe walking from some of the more distant parking areas to a dorm or apartment when walking down the street at night is uncomfortable? Georgia Tech Police Department's new hires are certainly making their presence felt. In fact, the department should be credited for its recent efforts, but a few more officers on patrol can't correct for the shortcomings of an entire system.

We as students don't expect a haven from crime, because we know that Georgia Tech is not an island. However, let's think about some reasonable steps:

Transportation. The Stinger and Stingerette contracts are coming up for rebid. Let's rebuild a transportation infrastructure that will reliably support students so they can support themselves. The routes are being re-examined. Good—students must make it known that we need reliable shuttle service at night—especially to parking areas.

Safety devices. Lighting upgrades must be a priority. The call boxes can't wait until next week's crime log. Or next month's. Or next year's.

Make your voices heard, especially with the Department of Parking and Transportation as they complete their reviews, because they don't know what you're thinking unless you tell them. Send the message that safety is a priority.

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