Natalie Elskamp
Staff Reporter
This article is intended to be satirical. Names and quotes have been fabricated and do not represent actual people.
The tent above Red Square was removed mere weeks before the start of the 2022-23 school year, frame and all, leaving students of various dispositions feeling a range of emotions: uncertainty, gratitude, depression, and relief, to name a few.
Amidst the chaos, senior Elise Hoffmann claims to do her best to stay informed and examine the facts objectively. “We must remember that the tent was designed to provide an outdoor gathering space as an alternative to crammed indoor spaces where COVID can more easily be spread,” she said. “I was skeptical of the tent at first, but then I began to notice that maybe five or six students gathered there about every other Friday or so, at which point it became clear to me that it was a massive success. It’s a shame that it had to go.”
Another student, junior Abby Wu, came into PLU just as the tent was being erected. She shares Hoffmann’s discouragement, though for a different reason: Wu has had a phobia of the sky since childhood. She is especially concerned about the pull of gravity suddenly reversing, and having nothing above her to catch her should she start drifting off into space.
“The tent was my safe space between the UC and Hauge,” Wu said. “It allowed me to catch my breath and composure before completing the second leg of my daily odyssey from lunch to class.”
While Hoffmann and Wu are by no means alone in their sentiments, other students could not be more relieved to see the tent gone for good.
A senior and biology major, Donovan McMahon is concerned first and foremost about students’ physical health in the presence of the tent. “Every time a student walked under the tent on a clear day,” McMahon said, “they lost a precious fifteen seconds of direct sunlight that would have otherwise facilitated the body’s natural production of Vitamin D.”
McMahon’s friend, unidentified, seemed to agree. “We have enough clouds in Parkland as it is. And the tent was just another cloud—a boxy, white, essential-vitamin-thieving cloud. We’re glad to see it go away.”
One freshman went as far as to say that if it were not for the removal of the tent, which he first observed during a campus tour last fall, he probably would not be here today studying alongside his fellow students at Pacific Lutheran University.
“This was going to be a real dealbreaker for me. I mean, I wasn’t even sure if I should apply to PLU. But in a leap of faith—faith that authorities would make the sensible decision and take down the hideous thing in the near future—I decided to apply anyway,” said the freshman, James Dunn, a double major in architectural design and aesthetics.
“When they did [remove the tent],” Dunn said, “I was like, ‘Okay, I’m committed.’”
Technically, Dunn’s parents had already sent in his enrollment deposit by then, but interviewers for The Mast agreed to let that one go.
