I am not one to hate on change. In fact, I’m the type of person who is willing to try any new food put in front of me. I voted for President Barack Obama, switched around my schedule even after the drop/add period and have never joined one of those “Give us back the OLD Facebook!!!” groups. That being said, there is a difference between embracing change and sitting back to watch the desecration of once-hallowed grounds. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, do yourselves a favor and trek on up to the second floor of McKeldin Library. Instead of the colorless walls and rows of books found in the past, the space now looks like a nursery-school-turned-coffeehouse designed in the throes of a panic attack. This area used to be considered a late-night sanctuary for snack-smuggling procrastinators, yet “Club McKeldin” (as dubbed by those who can’t get over the closing of Santa Fe Cafe) is now the anti-work zone. The walls are ghastly clashes of bright orange, lime green and SeaWorld blue. The carpets are dizzying curls and stripes, horribly matched with the polka-dot couches and chairs. Desks and tables are haphazardly placed around the room, and shelves of actual books are nowhere to be seen.

While all of these qualities themselves distract the ADD medication right out of me, it’s the underlying mood shift that has truly ruined the second floor. For my past three years at this university, I’ve spent hundreds of hours in silent frustration there, strangely comforted by the common vibe of unspoken panic over last-minute papers and tests. People were studying, reading, working or crying, but all in the name of low-volume academia. Nowadays, the second floor is a place of gossip, laughter and, most annoyingly, public group study. Those little glass rooms along the walls have become outdated and unnecessary. I truly feel bad for all the freshmen who don’t even know what they are missing: McKeldin was once a place where the white walls would drive you crazy, people would shush you for picking up your cell phone — except in a whisper — and you were always worried some old guy would come and confiscate your carrot sticks. While some may celebrate this new era of low coffee tables and crowded cubicles, I shake my head disapprovingly at their indifference.

Keep in mind, it is not the change itself that I detest. By all means, the second floor was nasty and needed some work done. Plus, I love the freedom of publicly eating my snacks. However, instead of encouraging responsible study habits and consideration of other people, the new layout does the same thing as opening Sunday at noon. Namely, it shows that a good work ethic is not a high priority for this campus. In fact, I wrote this column at 9:30 p.m. on a weeknight, hiding out on one of the currently unadulterated floors. While I do at least have a newfound appreciation for the simple decor of the upper levels of the library, my approval is begrudging. I know that when the clock strikes 11, I will be forced to don my slutty dress, find my glow sticks and head down to Club McKeldin.

Jessica Leader is a senior English and Jewish studies major. She can be reached at jessicarleader at gmail dot com.