I love Morehouse. I know without a doubt this is the right college for me to attend, and I know it is forming me into the man I am supposed to be. If you love something I believe it means that you have the ability and the obligation to critique it. And one aspect of the college that is open to critique is the infrastructure of the campus.

I live in Graves Hall. It is the one building on campus that you constantly see. It was the first building to be built on Morehouse’s campus. It is immortalized in one of the colleges logos. For the last decade or so Graves held the highest GPA out of all the freshman dorms. Many of the upperclassmen who are leaders on campus and are poised to do great things with their careers once they leave Morehouse, stayed in Graves their freshman year.

From April 4 to April 6, Graves Hall did not have running water.

On the night of April 4th, just as many of my brothers were preparing to shower, our water was cut off without prior notification. Our showers were cut off, and the only thing that came out of our sinks was cold water. If we tried to get hot water from our sinks, air rushed out of the faucet. I do not think the residents of the hall would have been so outraged by this if it was the first time we had issues with our water. However, the problems with our water had persisted since the beginning of August. In the beginning of the year we had intermittent spurts of brown water. We were told by our RAs that the brown water was just a result of the pipes not being used in the summer. If we let the water run for 30 seconds or so, it should clear up. And it did. We were told that these sporadic breakdowns in basic infrastructure were normal. So, we accepted it. Was it worrying that the pipes were sometimes spouting out water the color of sweet tea? Yes. But hey, apparently this was the norm.

The complete lack of water was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. We were finally fed up with these problems. We did not know why the water was not working and we needed answers. We had gone to Physical Plant multiple times throughout the year to ask if the water in Graves could be fixed. Over the course of the year, we never got a quick response. We never received a clear message as to what was happening behind the scenes. Doubtful we would receive a quick response this time, we took to Twitter instead. Tweeting #GravesWaterCrisis2016 to the official Morehouse account, we were able to get some answers as to what exactly was going on. The heated water storage tank in our hall, the source of our problems, was being replaced. For 3 days, we did not have running water in the dorm. On the third day, it was finally fixed. I commend Morehouse on fixing the tank, but the Physical Plant had been notified of this problem months ago. There also was time to fix the tank during spring break or winter break, when students were not in the hall. They had ample time to address this problem. We also never received an explanation as to what exactly was in the mysterious brown water from the beginning of the year.

Earlier the week we were lacking water, a film crew was shooting a movie on our campus. Since my major deals with the art of cinema, I was particularly excited to actually see a movie being filmed in person. The film was “Hidden Figures”, a movie about Black female mathematicians who worked for NASA in the 1950s. Taraji P. Henson and Octavia Spencer were on campus. It was riveting to be in close proximity with fame. I had the chance to talk with one of the set directors, and I asked him why they chose Morehouse to shoot some of the movie. The answer was simple, but not surprising. The college looks old, he said. And indeed, this would not be a problem if it was simply the outside of the dorms were old. But the age of many of the buildings on campus shows both inside and out. Infrastructure problems are commonplace to many. There is frustration with our Physical Plant, the office on campus responsible for fixing these problems of AC, water, etc. But to be mad at their slow response time is illogical, and unfair to the people who work there. Their staff is spread so thin across the campus that it is almost no wonder that it takes long for things to be fixed. They simply do not have the resources to fix everything as quickly as possible.

On the night of April 4th, I was up late (again) doing homework. My parents called me to check in on how I was doing. During the course of the conversation, they asked me a question. “Is it true that you really don’t have running water”. Yes, I replied. “Then how come you didn’t tell us as soon as you found out?” I forgot, was my reply. As I laid down sleep, I reflected on the question. I came to the conclusion that these basic problems with the infrastructure of the college had become so commonplace to me, that I had lost all sense of urgency in reporting them. I was jaded. The complete lack of water did not seem too out of place. I think many of my peers feel that way too. The mold in the dorms is just part of the mystique, I heard a senior joke. I talked to an upperclassmen in the Student Government Association about the common problems students complained about. He said that his peers usually complained about lofty ephemeral problems of the college; the academic environment, the direction of the presidency, the image of the college. He observed, however, that the problems of freshmen are much more concrete; clean water, working AC, mold in the vents.

Morehouse is the quintessential institution for Black men. I believe that this college has, is, and always will, create Black world leaders. However, I also believe that we have let Mother Morehouse fall into disrepair. The students recognize it. The teachers recognize it. Even President Wilson, in his future plans for the college, recognizes it. I think it’s time we do justice for our beloved institution.