The Silver Centre of Arts and Sciences, 4:50pm…
I’d assumed that at NYU no one had to wait in line, or shoulder their way up and down flights of stairs. I’d assumed that the kind of tuition NYU demanded would mean sweeping marble staircases, and high-speed elevators into the sky.
Not in the Silver Centre, though. Instead, narrow staircases, historic balustrades, tangles of exposed pipes and linoleum floors scuffed by a thousand dragging feet.
And at 4:50pm every day, a mad rush as the building empties and fills. Security guards shouting down the foyer, anxious lines for the elevator, heavy doors slamming in your face. Helices of students filing up and down the stairs.
In the thronging stairwells, the labyrinthine hallways and the doors to nowhere, it kind of reminds me of Hogwarts. Except that the Gryffindor coeds would never allow quite so much butt cheek to peek out of their cut-offs. Not even Ginny.
Put your head down, shoulder your way through the crowds, try to be the first to the top of the stairs; could there be a better metaphor for grad school?