The recent Sunset Cottage discourse reminds me that Kenyon, which I get to call home for four years, is constantly changing. When I see alumni moving on from Kenyon over the grief caused by the impending loss of Sunset Cottage, I find myself wondering: Why move on just because of the destruction of one building? Change has been and always will be an inevitable part of the College, be it the land, buildings, traditions or people. I may migrate north to socialize every Saturday night or avoid the Peirce seal like my sister who went here a decade ago, but she wasn’t going to Truckin Trav or Wednesday Trivia like I am now. Even New Side is, as the name implies, a new addition from certain perspectives. From new traditions to the removal of beloved buildings, change is a natural aspect of life. Therefore, moving on from the College and withholding donations because a building is being torn down seems frivolous to me.

A recent letter regarding the destruction of Sunset Cottage acknowledges the heartbreak that losing a beloved feature of campus can bring, but I think that in doing so, it proposes a rather static view of Kenyon. Sure, buildings are historic and meaningful, but the Old Kenyon mentioned in that letter isn’t the same Old K in which Rutherford B. Hayes lived. Nor does it sit on the original Kenyon campus, which was founded in Worthington. Even our Middle Path, which we constantly fight about paving, was once dirt (go see the photograph in the back of the VI). All of Kenyon’s meaningful buildings — which seem protected by nostalgia and the revered alumni who occupied them — will change, but I must admit that I’m thankful for laundry and Wi-Fi in my residence hall. Likewise, I imagine my curriculum isn’t the same as Bexley’s theologic core was 150 years ago, but I am thankful for film classes filled with women and students of color. Neither Kenyon nor Sunset Cottage are frozen in time, and romanticizing such an illusioned view of Kenyon will only ever lead to heartache and shortsightedness.

Alumni who choose to move on from the College over teardowns and new buildings are ignoring the shared experiences that students have here regardless of Sunset Cottage and other cosmetic changes. Despite beloved motifs and bookstore merchandise, it’s not buildings or pathways that define Kenyon. It’s us, the students, the professors, the community, that make Kenyon. But whatever Kenyon was, is and will be, we can all look proudly on our shared privilege of shaping the evolution of this place — even if the only constant north of the Kokosing is our alma mater’s name. 

Is Sunset Cottage really worth moving on from Kenyon over? Is one rotting, unused façade more important than 200 years of shared institutional identity? We are all part of Kenyon regardless of one building. For me, even if Ascension or Peirce are dropped someday, while I may cherish memories in those spaces, I will still feel a fondness for Kenyon including all the other spaces and people who helped shape me while here. The sun must set on Sunset Cottage, but that does not mean it is setting on Kenyon. Alumni, I ask that as Sunset Cottage is brought down, you also tear down your idealized, unreliable notions of Kenyon and instead see this place for what it is: dynamically beautiful, ever-changing and yet always full of that unique Kenyon identity — shaped by more than just one building.

Charlie Menzel ’28 is a religious studies major from Greencastle, IN. He can be reached at menzel1@kenyon.edu.