Wisenbaker Engineering Research Center

Well, my ground rule for the one and only one photo I am allowed to take is this:  the photo must be of something interesting, visible from my writing location. Today was the first time I walked an entire building in search of something interesting to write about or photograph. I briefly considered the model helicopters in the Helicopter and Unmanned Systems lab on the main floor. The Analog and Mixed Signals Lab might have been a candidate, had it omitted the analog signals.

The most interesting thing I found was an ice machine on the second floor—a rather ordinary machine, but made interesting by the two signs taped to it. One read, “WERC Ice Machine. Use of the WERC Ice Machine is a privilege, not a right! Always return the ice scoop to the hook!” The second sign read, “OUT OF ORDER. Due to continual misuse of ice machine and vandalism, and it’s location above the building’s fire alarm panel below, this ice machine is slated for permanent removal.”  -The Building Proctor-

Important Note: The misused “it’s” on the ice machine is attributable to the Building Proctor, not me. It would never do for the tour guide of a writing tour to flub her possessive pronouns. (The previous sentence, about the pronouns, used to end with an exclamation point. After reading the ice machine signs, I thought better of it. The ice machine’s fate is proof that exclamation points do not compel obedience.)

An ice machine photo would now be redundant. Instead, I’ve simply photographed my second-floor writing location. (The ice machine is just around the corner to the right, behind the far elevator). The photo accurately captures the personality of the Wisenbaker building: old, solid, plain, and very functional. The solid wood doors are in perfect condition, except for the scuff marks near the bottom—probably from years of graduate students pushing them open with their shoes, while transporting rice and ramen noodles from a distant microwave. A few suites have new doors with molding and etched glass panels—these look out of place, like a business suit in an engineering lab.

Taking the photograph made me feel as if I were sneaking around spying on someone. This is not the sort of building people take pictures of. It’s also not the sort of building people write or study in. Students study in buildings they have class in—perhaps squeezing some homework into those precious hours between classes, or staying after class to study with friends. As far as I can tell, Wisenbaker has no classrooms, and certainly no cozy study nooks. Writing and studying happens behind closed doors, by graduate students sitting on duct-taped chairs at metal desks, in offices bare except for metal bookshelves full of old books and stacks of papers. I’m sure it’s been months since anyone wrote or studied in these chairs by the elevators.

For some, Wisenbaker Engineering Research Center is home. For me, at least until today, it was a convenient pit stop—the closest building to the parking lot after a long drive from Houston. Thanks to my little writing tour, I have finally put a personality with the name.