Most people who have classes in DuSable Hall this semester have probably been distracted by the noise there lately—especially if they have class on the fourth floor.

It seems the university has decided the roof on that lovely red building is in need of major repair. And, for some reason, the university has decided the repair work has to be done this semester.

So now there are cranes lifting broken bits of tar from the roof and placing them in dumpsters alongside the building. And there are men on the roof hammering and drilling away, oblivious to the classes going on below.

And that’s the problem. There are students paying to learn in the classrooms, and they cannot hear what their instructors have to say unless the instructors choose to yell.

And then the students have to yell back when responding to questions.

This is why, I think, there have been so many hoarse people walking around lately. Shouting leads to that, you know.

In any case, one has to wonder why the roof repairs are being done during the day—during class time.

I have two classes on the fourth floor at DuSable, and for the past few weeks, each has been interrupted repeatedly from start to finish.

Fortunately, the instructor for one of those classes was able to find a room in another building for us to use at least until the roof work is completed.

Unfortunately, that same instructor was reduced to shouting OH, (EXPLETIVE DELETED)! out of frustration resulting from his inability to teach class before we moved to the other building. But I don’t blame him for using that language. I was thinking along the same lines when he said that. And I don’t mean in the Biblical sense, either.

When you come right down to it, the man had every right to be angry. From watching him teach, his students know that he truly cares about what he does. Therefore, there should be no reason for him to be subjected to the circus that has turned DuSable Hall into DuSable Hell.

I’ll have to admit, when I reached the top of the stairs Monday morning, I was expecting the worst. I was pleasantly surprised as I walked toward Rm. 424 in relative silence. I thought maybe things had returned to normal.

Boy was I wrong. When I got into class, I heard a heavy dripping sound. A quick glance across the room revealed several missing desks which had been replaced by garbage cans. The cans were rapidly filling with water.

It seems they have been doing a fine job repairing the roof. So fine, in fact, that I and several others were subjected to a modified version of the Chinese water torture for 50 minutes while the instructor tried to expound on international relations over the dripping noises.

I have to give the university some credit, however. They were able to send someone to tell us that we were free to move to another room … if we could find one.

Tell me where there’s an empty classroom in DuSable at 9 a.m. on Monday. You’d have to be some sort of a miracle worker to come up with one, I’m thinking.

Now I’m not saying the roof repairs are unnecessary. Frankly, I don’t know. But I think they could’ve been handled in a better manner.

After all, there was an entire summer that just passed which would’ve provided a prime opportunity for the repairs to be done.

And if that wouldn’t have been possible, there must be some way to schedule the work around class time—at least the work that causes noise and disruption.

But it seems now, with the changing of the seasons, that all the work will have to be done soon and around whatever schedule possible.

I suppose all of us affected will just have to put up with it.

Probably until the first snowfall. Where’s Jack Frost when you need him?