I feel trapped in windowless classrooms, most of us do. What with the four bone-white walls adorned with nothing but a few occasional drab posters; ones that, if you tear them away, there is no glorious tunnel chiseled out over decades by pens and pencils by the hands of dungeon-dwelling students like me who lust for the feeling of fresh air on their skin once more and the warmth of sunlight.
While sitting in these rooms it feels as if I could be anywhere in the universe, for all I know. Trying to perceive my position in the world with no points of reference, no surroundings but four white walls, is a terribly daunting task. I am at the bottom of a mine? No, the walls are too white for it to be a mine. That rules out the stomach of a whale as well. Besides, it feels more claustrophobic in here than cavernous. Perhaps we are giving it a stomachache and it’s contracting on us— the walls do curiously feel as if they are closing in. Oh, I am daydreaming again! It is so easy to do in a room such as this.
One simply cannot learn to their highest abilities in a claustrophobic setting. The effects of claustrophobia does vary from person to person and is rather subjective, but it can be soundly argued that a room with windows looking out into an infinite world feels larger than a room that is just four white walls. Some of these rooms could act as interrogation rooms if the furniture were changed, which is troubling to think.
Perhaps we could commission murals of windows looking out on exotic settings in these classrooms— just like the ones in Italian restaurants that are made to look like you are in some Sicilian village looking over the Mediterranean. Murals of this type are distasteful though; almost worse than a plain white wall. We could just tell ourselves that the walls are already art; some collaboration between Camille Pissarro, the master of all colorless and dreary, and Mark Rothko, whose color field style exemplifies the simple beauty of colors in their purest form.
What can be done about these windowless classrooms though? The school is already built and there is no way to install windows in these classrooms. For us, all that can be done for now is for things to go on as they are with one more trivial thing to complain about in casual conversation. If anything, the effects of this architectural mistake should serve as an example for why windows should be included in the construction of future schools. Some schools have it the right way already, for example, Saxe Middle School and West School, which both make use of multiple courtyards to ensure that all classrooms have windows. Surely, many other schools are like this, which is fantastic, but there are certainly many schools with windowless rooms in the world. In future school constructions we should keep progressing in the right direction and hold windows as a high priority.
There is one possible revision to class design that could make the environment more comfortable for learning; take the issue of the absence of natural light out of the equation by replacing the current lights we have overhead in all classrooms with Full Spectrum Incandescent Lighting—in which “Full Spectrum” implies that the spectral energy is evenly and uninterruptedly distributed as opposed to the variegated distribution in classical discharge lighting. The current lighting is cold, to put it one way, and sucks the life and energy out of a room—this is the opposite of warm sunlight, which literally as well as emotionally brings life to all that it touches. The effect of a Full Spectrum Light mimics natural outdoor light, exposing the true color of things and enhancing details.
I could present research that suggests that such lights promote mental health and concentration, but it is obvious enough that what is real is most often superior to an artificial imitation, and although in this case the lightbulb is still technically an imitation it at least attempts to embody what makes true light so great, whereas regular light bulbs do not make that attempt (a dangerous assumption that all light is equal). This comparison is not like a five-dollar artisanal bottled water claiming to be superior to tap water because of purity or mineral content; in the case of light one can easily tell the difference in quality, that is, between natural and artificial light.
The one issue with imposing Full Spectrum Lights is that they are—just like fancy bottled water—much more expensive than the classic type. Does that mean that this whole proposal is a waste? Not exactly. Ms. Bakes, a Spanish teacher, has a dungeon classroom with a “natural light tower” on her desk which she turns on to improve the mood of the classroom in the absence of natural light, not solely to light the room. Purchasing such light towers, which are produced under several brands offering a variety of features for a variety of prices, is a possible alternative to upgrading all the lights in the school.
If we are made to feel as if we are chicks confined within a monstrous egg—a situation in which installing windows would be nonsensical—then there will predictably come a time when a dormant vestige of savagery will be struck and lit within us, effectuated by unremitting claustrophobia, driving us up and out of our plastic chairs to lunge at those wretched white walls and beat with all our might our way out to freedom. However, this instinct will deceive and disappoint us, as we will be greeted not by the warmth of the sun or the cool touch of fresh air that we had reminisced about for the duration of entire periods, but by the horror-stricken eyes of our neighboring classrooms (anticipating a Godzilla of some sort from the thunderous banging) or by an empty hallway strewn with the rubble of cinderblocks and the concomitant dust clouds settling upon bent-metal locker doors- an awful mess. The end result would be disciplinary action for all involved and possibly a structurally unsound building. We ought to repress that impulsivity which might start within us, and endure that dreadful period stuck between four unbearable walls. If you really can’t stand it it is better to just walk out the door. We will have classes in other rooms, more idyllic rooms, offering an unobstructed panorama of a parking lot overflowing with Jeeps—dirty and colorful—or perhaps a view of “the Pit”, which is no longer really the pit, and is more of a bustling path for joggers decked out in neon garb, some with panting dogs pulling at the leash— a scene to be observed all the same. In some sense, we may be kept sane while learning by knowing that we have the security of distraction to fall back on to rest our minds if we wish—which teachers might regret—although this is a security which we do not seem to abuse, and often cannot abuse, keeping in mind that distraction is noticeable and can be reprimanded, and also that New Canaan students have an unusual level of motivation that requires constant focus.
