By: Ari Spivack  | 

A Bad Bathroom Should Not Be “Classic YU”

Between you and me, we understand that Yeshiva University falls short in certain areas. However, I am not here to discuss the disappointing course options for humanities majors (I’ll bemoan that another day), nor how long the elevators in Belfer Hall take. I am here to discuss one thing: bathrooms.

The bathrooms in Furst Hall on Yeshiva University’s Wilf Campus are dirty, unpleasant and in need of multiple repairs. This is not “classic YU.”

Built in 1962, YU’s Furst Hall (or should I call it the Belz Building now?) is one of the two main classroom buildings on the Wilf Campus. Many students spend their days going back and forth between Furst and Belfer Hall. You would expect both buildings’ bathrooms to be clean, well-maintained and adequately stocked. Unfortunately, at least in Furst Hall, that is not the case.

I recognize that YU has other priorities in Furst Hall. Anyone who has seen the signs and construction tape blocking off the main staircase knows that, not to mention the ever-present scaffolding covering the building. Construction noise has disrupted several of my classes. But this is understandable: The building is actively being renovated, and while the noise is frustrating for students and professors alike, I can accept that the work is intended to improve the building in the long run. What is harder to understand is why basic bathroom maintenance seems to be neglected.  

Here is what a typical trip to a Furst Hall bathroom looks like. This is not an isolated experience; it is one I know of from personal experience and conversations with classmates. 

I am sitting in my French Revolution class on the third floor when I leave to use the bathroom. As I open the unusually heavy door, I am immediately greeted by a familiar, unpleasant smell. Inside, the floors are dirty, and a blue recycling bin is being used as a garbage can. I move into the second room, where I find five stalls and six urinals. One urinal has a sign reading “Out of Service.” Fine, I will use a stall. But first, I have to remember to avoid the one that does not have a functional lock.

At the sinks, I have to choose carefully: One faucet sprays water uncontrollably. Then there is the soap. I can only hope that one of the dispensers works or that someone has placed a bag of soap directly into one of the sinks. Drying my hands is another gamble. Will one of the paper towel dispensers work, or will I have to pull from the large roll of paper towels left sitting on top of them? Why should any of this be a gamble? I don’t understand. Why can students not expect working toilets, functional sinks, and soap and paper towels in functioning dispensers? 

I counted. On Wednesday, October 21, I assessed the bathrooms on the second and third floors, which house the majority of Furst Hall’s classes. Here is what I found: 

  • 5 of 6 sinks had normal water flow. 
  • 2 of 4 paper towel dispensers worked. 
  • 3 of 4 soap dispensers worked. 
  • 11 of 12 urinals worked. 
  • 8 of 10 stall locks worked. 

In all honesty, I was surprised by how good these numbers were, and so were many of my classmates. In the past, the bathrooms in Furst Hall have been in much worse condition. Nevertheless, the numbers are still not good enough. At first glance, they might seem acceptable. Most of the fixtures work, after all. But we are talking about the bathrooms in a university where students pay tuition. “Most” should not be the standard. Students should not have to wonder whether they will be able to wash and dry their hands after using the bathroom. These are basic facilities, not luxury amenities. 

The other floors tell a different story. The fifth-floor bathroom currently reads “Out of Order,” so I could not assess its condition. The fourth-floor bathroom, however, which notably houses faculty and other departmental offices, is in stellar condition. Its floor is nicer, its fixtures work and its supplies are fully stocked. The first-floor bathroom, next to the Office of the Registrar, is by far the nicest in the building, if not on the entire Wilf Campus. 

Clearly, clean and well-maintained bathrooms are a possibility. The question is: Why are the bathrooms used by the students not held to the same standard?

The bathrooms can be fixed. The mindset behind the situation is harder to change.

Here is the part of the story I left out. As I washed my hands, another student walked up behind me and asked: “No soap?” When I shook my head no, he responded: “Classic YU.” We both chuckled and went on with our days, after a squirt of hand sanitizer, of course. 

Yeshiva University can fix its bathrooms. But can it change the mindset that makes these conditions seem normal? Some alumni parents, when dropping their children off at YU, remark on how similar everything is to when they attended the university years ago. They laugh and reminisce, all in the spirit of “classic YU.” 

If “classic YU” is going to mean anything, I would prefer it to reflect what is stated in YU’s mission statement: “to educate, empower and inspire our students to become the next generation of leaders, guided at all times by our core values.” The phrase should refer to its excellent professors, vibrant Torah study and meaningful opportunities, rather than dirty floors, broken toilets and empty soap dispensers.

That is the YU I want to attend, one that takes care of its students and one that takes pride in its campus. I hope that the administration can work with its students to get us there.


Photo caption: Men’s Restroom on the Wilf Campus 

Photo credit: Ari Spivack