Washed Away with the Tide

There's something dirty in the laundry rooms of Harvard College, and it's not sweat-stained DHA's or sullied socks. There's a profit being made off our grimy garments, and every time a student swipes a Crimson Cash card or drops a quarter in a dryer his loss becomes someone else's gain. From Eliot House to Adams House, from Hollis to Holworthy, our precious dollars are being washed away with the Tide. Ironically, our money is being laundered in a room full of Maytags.

The costs of operating a laundry facility can be broken down into three components: the cost of purchasing machines, the cost of maintaining those machines, and the cost of the energy and water consumption involved in using those machines. A rational individual would suppose that the money that students deposit into laundry machines goes directly and entirely towards paying off the aforementioned costs. After all, Harvard isn't in the laundry business for profit, right?

Wrong.

Due to the hassle of staying up to par on the latest laundry technology and the inconvenience of frequently repairing machines that have suffered the brunt of Harvard students' misplaced angst, Harvard subcontracts the operation and maintenance of its laundry facilities to a Cambridge based corporation called Mac-Gray. Mac-Gray provides and services the machines as often as is necessary and, in turn, Mac-Gray collects the profits that the machines generate. However, the money that the machines bring in far exceeds the costs of maintaining them, and therefore Mac-Gray returns a fixed percentage of the revenues generated by Harvard's laundry facilities.

Presumably, these returned revenues should be used by the University to pay for the only cost of operating the laundry facilities not covered by Mac-Gray--the cost of the energy and hot water consumption needed to run the machines. However, the checks that Mac-Gray sends to Harvard don't end up at the physical resources department on JFK Street, and they aren't used to settle the university's accounts with the Cambridge Water Department and the Cambridge Electric Light Company.

So, how does Harvard pay its bills? The answer is, it doesn't. We do. Every year all students--even those who choose to live off campus--pay a "Student Services Fee" that, according to the student handbook, "covers College services and facilities provided by the houses and Freshman Dean's Office." This fee--$1689.00 for the 2000-2001 school year--factors in the costs of energy consumption for all shared house facilities used by students--common rooms, lounge areas, and, yes, laundry facilities. Thus, to borrow the words of one administrator, Harvard is essentially "double dipping," charging students for the energy and hot water costs once on their term bills and again each time students go into the laundry rooms to do wash.

As for the money returned by Mac-Gray, its final destination is quite surprising. Because it is not needed to pay the utility bills that students' tuition has already covered, the revenue generated from the Yard dormitories is sent straight from Mac-Gray into the coffers of the Freshman Dean's Office (FDO), while the revenue generated from each House's laundry facilities is sent to its House Committee (HoCo). According to administrators, this action is defensible because the excess money students are charged for laundry is returned to them indirectly through the services that the FDO and the various HoCo's provide. This line of reasoning, however, is riddled with flaws.

In an e-mail, Dean of Freshmen Elizabeth Studley Nathans said that the FDO uses the money it receives from Mac-Gray "to help support first-year orientation programs and [other] special programs [such as] the grants [the FDO] makes to first-year projects in the arts, publications, and the like." While it is hard to dispute that these are laudable and fund-worthy programs, the fact remains that these programs do not benefit all first-years to the same extent. Most first-years do not participate in orientation programs and only a handful obtain the FDO's coveted grants. Consequently, although the College takes excess laundry money from all students, it hardly pays them back equally. If Harvard truly believes that these programs are valuable, then it should be funding them out of its own generous endowment, not out revenues generated by overcharging already cash-strapped students for their laundry.

With respect to the houses, the issue is slightly more nuanced. In theory, HoCo activities are open to and enjoyed by all members of a House community. However, in reality, many of the most popular HoCo sponsored events--such as Stein clubs and happy hours--are not open to all House members, and many individuals choose not to participate in HoCo events even if they can.

Consequently, as with the FDO programs mentioned above, funneling laundry revenues through HoCo's is not an equitable method of redistribution. If College administrators believe that HoCo's are important and responsible enough to receive the thousands of dollars generated by House laundry facilities each year, then the College should consider funding HoCo's out of its own pocket instead of supporting them through funds that have been exploited from unknowing students.

Thus, there is a lot more than sudsy water going down the drain in Harvard's laundry rooms; students' dollars--and their choices--are being washed away as well. It's high time that the College comes clean of its misdeeds and stops taking advantage of students' Downy soft spots. In the world of Harvard laundry, the dirt has got to go.

Lauren E. Baer '02 is a social studies concentrator in Dunster House. Her column appears on alternate Wednesdays.