Welcome to The Phoenix’s weekly digest. Every week during the quarter, you can expect our writers’ takes on some campus happenings.

This finals week, Himanshu Sharma reflects on a week of waking up at the crack of dawn to secure a desk in Mansueto.

During my first month at UChicago, I participated in Art to Live With, where students camp out in line for a chance to snag artwork like they’re waiting for Duke-UNC tickets. While I got the artwork I wanted—Balloon Man by Yinka Shonibare—my deepest joy came from being a part of that temporary community. For the eight hours I was in line, I played card games and walked around the SMART Museum plaza, chatting with other students determined enough to undertake this endeavor as well. The same sense of temporary community is why I get up at seven in the morning to secure a seat in Mansueto during finals. 

I often say Mansueto is the reason I came to UChicago. After I got my acceptance, I went on TikTok and looked up “UChicago,” and the first video I saw was a student vlogging their study session in Mansueto. As someone who didn’t much care for my old college’s architecture, this monumental glass egg, an incubator for brainpower, felt like it was calling out to me. Whenever I give tours, I always impress upon my group how many hours I’ve logged studying inside it. I remember being in awe the first time I walked in, mouth agape as I stared up into the sky. On the bright, balmy days I have to spend locking in, the glass makes me feel like I’m out in the world, soaking in the sun. When it rains or snows, I feel like I’m in a snowglobe. 

As pretty as the view is, however, most of the time in Mansueto is spent focused on my screen or notebook. I remember thinking during my first few study sessions that we UChicagoans are crammed in there like cattle, with only as much space as exists between our elbows. The limited seating also perturbed me; most students have undergone the humiliation ritual of circling Mansueto like a vulture, hoping there’s an empty seat to claim. I know some people who have sworn it off altogether, because experience dictates that the waiting game will ultimately be fruitless and they’ll have to settle for a Reg cubicle anyway. 

However, rather than give up on Mansueto, I’m compelled to wake up extra early during Finals weeks to lock down a seat for the next twelve hours. Part of that is undeniably the exclusivity, the want to hang onto something limited and desired. But part of it is wanting to be among the 180 people in it for the long haul, like they’re waiting for art or basketball tickets. Everyone around me faces a similar task, whether it be whittling away a 10-page essay, scribbling through a math practice test, or learning nine weeks of content in three days. Rather than see the close quarters as a detriment, I’ve grown to appreciate how aware it makes me of other people. In so many study spaces, you’re cordoned off, removed from the world inside a bubble. 

Mansueto is literally a glass bubble sealed away from the world, but being in there with other people gives you a community. Everyone who’s in there chose to be there, has been awake for as long as you have, and is likely as jittery and over-caffeinated, too. You can have student-athletes sitting next to theater kids, philosophers next to future doctors, North residents next to Woodlawn residents. What unites everyone is the communal slog. 

It’s possible that I’ve spent so much time in Mansueto that my brain has gone to mush. This ode to it might be a symptom of Stockholm syndrome. But during a time of collective anxiety, Mansueto always finds a way to pull me back into the real world. It could be a small chat I have with a friend, a rush of secondhand embarrassment when someone’s alarm goes off, a private laugh at the multitude of caffeine sources (and Zyns) fueling my neighbor. In the midst of sleep-deprived studying, sometimes all it takes is looking up and seeing the blue sky passing overhead to give me the jolt I need to write fifty more words.

Stay tuned for next week’s edition. In the meantime, if you have any thoughts, disagreements, or words of support, we want to hear them! Write to us at thechicagophoenix@gmail.com.