Love it: Lamont Seat Savers

If you have a problem with people saving desks at Lamont, you probably run with the crowd that waltzes in mid-afternoon during Reading Period, expecting to find an empty desk all for yourself. I, however, have been holed up in Lamont since last Thursday, trying to finish my junior thesis, retiring to the cushy chairs at night, only to drag myself back to my study spot come sunrise. And you think a casual 3 p.m. drop-by warrants a desk?

Now don’t get me wrong. I understand how frustrating it is to finally muster the resolve to march over to Lamont only to scour every floor, and find one absentee desk after another, effectively claimed by littered with open textbooks and marked-up papers. But here’s a thought: if you really needed that desk as much as its invisible owner, maybe you would’ve trekked to the library as early as he did and staked out a cozy carrel of your own.

Leaving my books at my desk allows me to create a home away from home. It is a reminder that while I haven’t seen my room in days and don’t know what sunlight feels like anymore, I’ll always have a place at Lamont. There’s a certain sense of comfort and relief, upon returning from dinner, to find my carrel exactly as I left it.

Also, it forces me back to the library after dinner, when all I want to do is curl up and take a nap.

The truth is, no one wants to be at Lamont for days. That unshowered, unkempt, under-nourished kid, who’s been sitting in the same desk for the past week, writing his final paper—he doesn’t want to be there. Neither does that little Asian girl, who’s fallen asleep crying over her Orgo textbook (trust me). So, maybe they save their desks and make it slightly harder for you to find one, Mr. mid-afternoon-casual-Lamont-visitor. Take a step back and feel for your fellow Lamont-goer...not to say I wrote the textbook, but maybe some of us need to study up on sympathy.

—Frances Jin