Readers’ pick: Kogan Plaza
We’ve reached the point in the semester when tensions between roommates, friends and classmates begin to stack like rounds in a slow-motion boxing match.
By April, crumbs on the counter and dishes in the sink have turned the air in shared apartments dense with unspoken grievances, and you catch yourself glaring every time that one classmate clears their throat to speak. When you need to settle the score, make the staircase in Rome and Phillips halls your glass arena.
Arguing while descending a staircase is like boxing without contact — the steps measured, points thrown, hesitations echoing like punches you failed to land. Too narrow to escape but too exposed for a knockout, the stairwell traps you in the push and pull of each word exchanged.
The seven flights of glass-walled, open stairs in Rome and Phillips halls offer an environment of strange intimacy, a space where an argument feels both exposed and controlled. Each word bounces off the concrete, lingering in the air as if the stairs themselves are stretching the syllables and forcing you to confront the weight of your opponent’s point.
As you descend the flights in fierce discourse, you’re tempted to believe you have privacy, wrapped in the cool anonymity of concrete, certain the passersby below won’t glance up from their phones to notice what’s unfolding behind the glass. But you know that each floor, each landing, holds an audience from across academic departments. You’re pretty sure they’re all strangers — unless one is your professor, first-year roommate or a friend of a friend. This uncertainty hangs over the exchange just enough to keep you careful with your words but not enough to curb your argument.
The possibility that someone could step into the stairwell, slip between your back-and-forth, is a built-in obstacle that erodes the illusion of privacy. You must brace for the threat, careful not to lose your rhythm if an uninvited guest stumbles into the ring. How well you recover in that moment reveals to your opponent just how tightly you cling to your position.
The wide landings between flights signal the end of each round, offering a brief respite where the tension dissipates and the playing field levels. It’s a chance to reset and recalibrate before taking your next verbal swing. These pauses prevent one person from dominating, granting both sides a chance to seize control in the next round. They become a quiet contest of who can catch their breath first and reenter the ring with enough momentum to claim the upper hand.
As you near the bottom of the stairs, the argument dissolves into a quiet standoff on solid ground. You meet each other’s eyes, weighing the choice: to chase the words back up the stairs or leave them limp on the concrete, unresolved but fading with each step you take away.
