As students of the greatest university in the world, we love to tell everyone about how great Texas A&M is. We have the greatest mascot in the nation, the greatest fans in all of college sports and great academics and professors to help us succeed in our careers.
Many people love to visit our campus and see what the hype is about; I myself have acted as a personal tour guide for my friends and family in College Station.
So what exactly do I show them?
My tour starts at the state-of-the-art Zachry Engineering Education Complex, then to the magnificent Liberal Arts and Humanities building. We make a stop at Evans Library, head to the Memorial Student Center and then work our way to the life-affirming Kyle Field.
Of course, our trip takes us to the Innovative Learning Classroom Building to see the famous “round” classrooms, then to the Instructional Laboratory and Innovative Learning Building to see the great labs students can take advantage of.
There’s plenty more that I could show, sure. But by this point, my guests would be exhausted from all the walking, so I call it a day. If I had more time I would show them Reed Arena, the Physical Education Activity Program building and Scoates Hall.
But, do you know where I don’t take any of my guests? Heldenfels Hall.
If you haven’t heard of or been in this building, you’ve lived a good life — much better than mine.
I don’t think there’s a place on campus I hate as much as Heldenfelds. As a student in a major that has to take a slew of science courses — yes, contrary to popular belief, kinesiology students have to take many science classes — I’ve spent countless hours in Heldenfels for lectures or labs, and it genuinely messes with my mental health.
Why are there no windows in any of the classrooms? Why is the hallway so small? Why is the lighting giving “horror movie hospital” vibes? And why are the stairs so steep?
Football teams could make their players run bleachers or walk up one flight of stairs at Heldenfels and it would be the same amount of cardio; I love walking into my three-hour lab out of breath and sweating because of those stairs.
Brutalism must’ve been the trend when this building was built, but not now. We have moved forward as a society and our architecture should too.
Mays Business School just opened a new building that feels luxurious. Now, Mays is totally different from the College of Arts and Sciences — different colleges, different budgets. But why do we need another building that looks futuristic when we have a building that is stuck in the 20th century like Heldenfels?
Consistency is key and when we have two extremes of buildings on campus, it not only looks weird but presents a lack of equity among students of different majors. Why should I be subjected to the evil of a building like Heldenfels but business majors can rejoice in the cathedral that’s been built for them? I’m not sure that’s fair.
It’s like zoning in Houston, or the lack thereof.
Houston doesn’t follow a traditional Euclidean zoning system. While this may be good in some cases, this allows builders to build wherever they want to without caring about where it’s placed. A mansion next to the projects? That’s a possibility. A skyscraper, Dillards and a sex shop in one eyeline? That’s indeed a real image.
This lack of uniformity is glaring in our campus. When we put gorgeous new structures that look like they’ve been gifted to us by time travelers from the future next to buildings that time travelers from the past would cringe at, it completely negates the beauty our campus has to offer.
Students want this building gone.
“The old architecture of Heldenfels demotivates students from wanting to go to class,” civil engineering junior Ben Abraham said “It’s very old, fetid and ultimately has lost its place on campus. It has to go.”
Tear it down. Use a wrecking ball and demolish it. Start from scratch and make something the students deserve to study in. It must burn. We, the students, deserve better than this building. We go to the greatest university in the world, let our buildings reflect that. Architectural beauty matters.
If I was former A&M president H.C. Heldenfels, I would be disgusted that this is the building that was built in my name.
Joshua Abraham is a kinesiology junior and opinion writer for The Battalion.
