Author: Claudia Goodine

Last Saturday evening, while students were at the bars or in the books, a lecture hall at UBC was packed with grey and white haired citizens to hear Gwynne Dyer speak about climate change. The talk entitled, “Geopolitics in a Hotter World,” was the fall kickoff to a series of free public lectures hosted by The Vancouver Institute. Of the 800 people there to hear Dyer speak about the younger generation’s upcoming crises, a majority were senior citizens. About 100 were under 50.

Dressed in a dark brown, worn-out-looking leather jacket, over a forest green button up shirt, Dyer began his talk quietly, almost muttering. With the deep gruffness of a military general, the seriousness of his voice was mixed with moments of jaded sarcasm. He took turns leaning forward with his hands on the table, walking around waving his arms, and bouncing with crescendoing exasperation when he got excited.

“This thing is moving much faster than what the public debate acknowledges,” he said. “Everywhere else in the world, climate change is not a left-wing versus right-wing issue.”

After travelling the world and talking to leading climate scientists like James Hansen, and military officials from the Pentagon, Britain, and the EU, Dyer learned that scientists predict a 10 per cent loss in global food production with every one degree of warming. Militaries are planning for how to deal with ensuing refugees, failed states and water wars. “These are the kinds of conversations that are going on,” he said. “We’re in serious trouble. I have children. I have grandchildren. I am not particularly pleased by this news.”

The drama of the content gripped the bodies in the audience, pulling them forward in their chairs. With elbows resting on their knees, people with furrowed eyebrows clasped their hands in front of their mouths. Some, however, were not awake to hear the bad news. One older gentleman fell asleep five minutes into the talk, his head hung down in deep breathing.

The young, however, were definitely awake. During the question period, two young men in the back row eager to represent their generation, stood up while furiously waving their hands to get Dyer’s attention. The one chosen, Jonathan Maingot, asked Dyer advice on starting an organization that would spread awareness on climate change. After Dyer answered, and the crowd started spilling out, a young girl approached Maingot and said she wanted to be involved.

UBC is no stranger to criticism over lack of consultation with students when it comes to campus development. But the design of the new Student Union Building is taking a revolutionary approach of engaging students’ input from the beginning. At least that’s the stated aim.

Last Tuesday, from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., the AMS hosted the first of two charrettes with HBBH + BH, the design team behind the New SUB Project. The brainstorming session was open to student participation, despite the noticeable lack of students.

The main level of the SUB buzzed with young to middle-aged men wearing button-up shirts with dark denim jeans or pinstripe pants. Plaid and square-rimmed glasses were recurring themes. The few women present wore sophisticated business wear, while an older gentlemen sported a suit jacket and red bow-tie. Occasionally, students walking by stopped to look at the unusual scene unfolding in their space. Large posters scribbled with ideas and designs covered the windows and walls. Miniature models of the new SUB stood in different corners of the room. Tables and chairs were pushed together into little islands where groups huddled. An organic collaborative process was obviously taking place, but less obvious was whether students were involved, or even invited.

In the back of the room sat Phil Riley, a UBC Masters student in Architecture and graduate from UBC’s Environmental Design program. Wanting to participate, but unable to make the mandatory full-day commitment because he had class, he asked, “Why didn’t they do it on an evening or a Saturday?” He probably would have had some insightful contributions too, considering his ENDS program involved a semester long project on designing a new SUB.

His buddy Ian Lowrie, a fellow ENDS graduate who participated in the charrette, counted only two undergrads, two architecture students and six ENDS graduates. One of the other ENDS graduates, Jon-Scott Kohli, said, “From my understanding the consultation process that led up to this was very strong, and while in some ways this has been an unparalleled process, and they’ve done so many things right, I also feel like they kind of hit it half way.”

The charrette ended with participants sticking red or blue dots on favourite designs and objectives. “Building as Landscape,” won most blue dots. Closing remarks by AMS VP Ekaterina Dovjenko summed up three main design goals. “Iconic,” was first before, “importance of communities,” and, “making this a fun process.” Kohli expressed concern saying, “A lot of buildings are iconic, that doesn’t make them good buildings. If you focus on making it a good building, then it being iconic will follow.”

As the room cleared the ENDS graduates huddled together feeling left in the dark about how much opportunity for student engagement was still to come.

By 5 p.m. on Monday, the UBC Student Union Building’s constant stream of students started dwindling to a trickle. A quieter tone began enveloping the building in contrast to when back pack laden students filled every corner, live music blared outside, and conversations inflamed over book prices.

It’s ninety eight dollars! Ninety eight dollars!

A cardboard cubicle plastered with design information on the more “sustainable” New Student Union Building stood in wait for student suggestions. So far there were three: affordable food, be open Sunday, and air conditioning or some alternative.

About every ten minutes a student or two wandered in with a slice of Pie R Squared pizza to pick a spot between the garbage-ridden tables. Remnants of a busier time lingered. Paper plates and napkins, glass bottles and cans, A&W and Starbucks cups mingled together with carelessly strewn newspapers. This was a site for fast-paced consumption and hurriedly moving on. A tall student with curly unkempt hair walked by a table, and without stopping, gave a few old drink containers a little shake before heading out the door, leaving the scene of garbage completely undisturbed.

Signs indicating which bins were for composting and which for recycling were located throughout the SUB, courteous of UBC Waste Management. Across the room a well-stuffed garbage can had the words, “STOP! Can this be recycled?” on the lid. Just above hung a hand sanitizer and a sign that read, “The Student Union Building is Monitored by Cameras.”

Three girls sat on the grey couches near the windows to eat their pizza. When finished they stood up, adjusted their backpacks and, while continuing their conversation, made a subtle attempt to leave. One girl stepped back, another leaned in the same direction, but then there was a pause. The memory of some social norm their parents may have instilled in them when they were children surfaced to challenge the new normal around them. They each picked up their plates and threw them in the garbage.

By 9 p.m. the cleaning staff began their nightly ritual. Quoc Nguyen has worked for UBC Food Services for five years. “It’s always the same,” he said, “but the cafeteria is worse! Sometimes the salt and pepper is poured all over the table and people draw pictures in it. But at least I get paid. It’s people’s attitudes. What can we do? There’s nothing we can do. Brain surgery?”

He laughed.

There’s no signpost stating “Welcome to UTown@UBC,” but the growing community is easy to recognize. Wander far enough southeast at UBC, past the music blaring frat houses and student buzzing residences, past the cold, sterile-looking Health Sciences buildings, and there are post-card worthy neighourhoods made up of elegant condos, tree-lined bike paths, immaculately trimmed hedges and kids, lots of kids.

“I never knew how many kids lived on UBC,” said Saangeeta Lalli, a volunteer at the Annual Barn Raising event that took place on Saturday at the Old Barn Community Centre in the heart of UTown@UBC.

The centre, built in 2007, is neither old, nor a barn. Its name and design were inspired by an old barn that existed in the same spot in 1920, when UBC’s land was being cleared by Clydesdale horses. Today it is home to the University Neighborhood Association in charge of running the community.

Families were out enjoying the festivities on the grassy park outside the centre, despite ominous sprinkles of light rain. Sights of baby-strapped and stroller-pushing parents looking relaxed, of colorful balloons and face-painted children were everywhere. Joyful fiddle harmonies from the Celtic Folk band Blackthorn provided a fanciful backdrop as kids played and parents socialized between lining up for the BBQ, riding the horse-pulled-carriage, and checking out information booths. The event, like the community, seemed to be all about the kids.

“I moved to UBC for my son, who goes to Lord Byng,” said Rocio Escalona who works for the UNA.

Meanwhile, Tim Fijal, who runs Little Mountain Campus Academy located in the UBC Village, said that many Korean and Chinese parents like to expose their children to the university environment hoping for an “osmosis-like affect on their intelligence.” Fijal’s literacy tutoring programs are popular among Korean and Chinese families who make up a significant portion of the residents in UTown.

So how much of a connection is there between these communities and the rest of UBC? The student-run booths showed the UNA connecting with pockets of the student body that can help fulfill their stated mission of providing a “sustainable residential community.” These included the Beaty Biodiversity Museum and Sprouts, which delivers local organic produce to UBC residents by bicycle.