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Help me, help you

Cal Poly is looking into building a hotel and conference center on its campus, but that idea concerns many San Luis Obispo residents—particularly as it relates to student housing. Is it the right idea at the wrong time?

BY TOM FRANCISKOVICH

arly this summer, San Luis Obispo’s City Hall chamber was full; and the energy in the room was palpable. One by one, long-time residents—many of them wearing purple “Alta Vista” t-shirts—rose to speak during the public comments segment. The light on the podium indicating their remaining time, quickly clicked down on each one of them from green to yellow to red while they expressed opposition to Cal Poly’s plan to build a new dormitory complex adjacent to a neighborhood. Then, Jeff Eidelman, a local podiatrist and 35-year resident dropped a bomb. While the neighbors had been encouraging Cal Poly to relocate the dorm to some other location on campus, preferably near the Highland Drive entrance, Eidelman, peering over his round-rimmed glasses to address the councilmembers, shared, “I’ve heard from two different sources that Cal Poly is in the midst of negotiating with an architecture firm in Irvine to design a convention center and restaurant in the area of the lemon grove between Highland and Stenner Creek off of Santa Rosa. If this is true, it’s no wonder that they could not use this site for the proposed new dormitory complex to be constructed at Slack and Grand. Certainly, once again, this is not an example of good faith on the part of Cal Poly.” It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room, and the council members shifted anxiously in their chairs. The timing of news about a conference center, especially in this context, could not have been worse. And the whole thing got me thinking… If you had to pick a movie to best represent the current state of relations between Cal Poly and many of San Luis Obispo’s permanent residents, it would be difficult to do much better than the 1996 hit Jerry Macguire. In the film, two of the most unlikely characters find themselves locked into a partnership where they are forced to work together and learn from each other in order to be mutually successful. During their lowest point, Maguire, a sports agent, and his only client, Rod Tidwell, a football player, are in the locker room after a game when, out of frustration, Macguire, played by Tom Cruise, goes ballistic as he finally overflows with a building frustration screaming at his client. Tidwell fires back and the pair reach an impasse. Finally, Macguire, now near a breaking point changes tack. “Help me. Help me, Rod. Help me, help you,” he begs. “Help me, help you,” now repeating more forcefully. After seeing his agent in a full meltdown, Tidwell bursts into laughter. An exasperated Macguire leaves the room while Tidwell follows him out shouting, “See, that’s the difference between us—you think we’re fightin’, and I think we’re finally talkin’!” It’s not clear that we have reached our “Help me, help you” moment, but the 9th Annual Town-Gown Association Conference held in South Carolina this June may have sped things along. In a workshop called “The Tale of Two Cities,” a contingent from Cal Poly and three representatives from the City of San Luis Obispo made up one side of a panel, while representatives from Oregon State and officials from the City of Bend, Oregon made up the other. The breakout session was intended to showcase how each of the cities and their respective universities had dealt with issues such as student housing. Making the trip on their own dime and sitting in attendance were long-time San Luis Obispo residents, Rusty and Michelle Hall who live in the Alta Vista neighborhood near campus. What happened

Enext has been described alternatively by those in attendance, as something between an “incredibly clumsy and unfortunate presentation” to an “outright personal attack on some of our most respected past and current leaders.” When asked about the incident, Rusty Hall, an almond brittle candy maker, politely demurred: “I don’t want to focus on that or give it any energy.” And to their credit, the administration at Cal Poly acted swiftly and insisted that the presenter apologize to those who were called out, which he did. Yet, the damage had been done and it served as more fuel to the fire that was already burning. And, perhaps more importantly, as Hall observed, “[The incident] seemed to reflect an attitude that the university knows best, and that the people objecting didn’t have any credibility.” Yet, during the city council meeting, which came a week after the conference, the neighbors remained focused on two themes: first, they claimed that mitigation—a onetime fee of $530,000 to be paid to the city for such things as traffic improvements in the area around the construction—was woefully inadequate. And, second, many of them asked the council members, in essence, to “stick up for its residents” by filing a lawsuit to stop the project. In a 2-2 split decision with Mayor Jan Marx recusing herself (she lives next to Cal Poly), city council was unable to take the first step in exploring the possibility of litigation. Dan Carpenter and Kathy Smith voted for the motion, but Carlyn Christianson, objecting philosophically to the idea of a lawsuit, and John Ashbaugh, also uncomfortable with litigation, voted against. A sea of purple shirts stormed out of the room in disgust, and ten days later they dug into their own pockets, lawyered-up and filed a lawsuit of their own.

Shortly after the Alliance of SLO Neighborhoods (ASLON) had served papers, the San Luis Obispo Chamber of Commerce circulated an email polling its membership, on behalf of Cal Poly, asking how they would feel about a conference center and hotel on campus. The 10-minute survey included a series of questions designed to judge the overall sentiments held about the university within the business community, but it included just a vague description of the project. According to Cal Poly President Jeffrey Armstrong the whole thing is just an “idea,” but he did reveal that a feasibility study had been completed and it came back “very favorable.” When pressed about exactly where it would be located, he explained that “there had been conversations, but that they had not gotten that far along yet.” He mentioned the area near the baseball stadium as a possibility. Considering the context within which the idea was presented, perhaps locating way out in left field would be most appropriate. In many ways the challenges facing Cal Poly are reminiscent of a politician who is having trouble getting his message across. Consider Al Gore in the 2000 presidential election. The guy had some great ideas and was absolutely dead-on about climate change and the environment, but he lost out to someone who was simply better at connecting. In the polling question, “Who would you rather have a beer with?” George W. Bush won hands down. As Armstrong shares the specifications of the hotel project in an unmistakable Arkansas drawl—a 150 to 200 room facility with a 1,000 person conference center—I cannot help but think that Cal Poly has a similar problem; because their idea for a hotel and conference center, much like Gore’s prescience on global warming, appears well thought-out and perhaps even a home run for the university and the city. But, the message will likely be drowned-out by all the background noise coming from the lingering questions and uncertainty remaining over the size of the student population and on-campus housing. The steady drumbeat is bound to become louder until we arrive at our “Help me, help you” moment. And there are signs that we are heading in that direction. “In the next six-to-twelve months, we are going to be engaging in an open discussion looking into the appropriate size of Cal Poly with respect to the constraints we face within the city, especially off-campus housing,” Armstrong begins in a genuinely conciliatory tone. “We know that there are things we need to work on, and become better at, and we expect that in late September, early October we can start to have those sorts of conversations with the community.” Although he did not explain precisely what shape those talks may take, it is clear that Armstrong would much rather be thinking big ideas and moving the university forward than picking a fight with the neighbors. Yet, it is ASLON and the rest of the residents of San Luis Obispo, people referred to as “stakeholders” in the parlance of academic conferences, who are likely to determine the level of noise and distraction that will exist going forward. Or, maybe it is the building frustration that will finally allow for a breakthrough. As the almond brittle maker, Hall, reasons in an unhurried explanation: “That’s why it’s best to move forward with litigation, because it gives everyone a chance to pause and figure out what’s best for the campus and the community.” In other words, what may look like fightin’ may actually mean we’re finally talkin’. SLO LIFE

HOTEL POLY

Armstrong sees a “tremendous opportunity” in developing a “premier” hotel and hospitality school at Cal Poly. Citing the fact that the industry is booming, yet there is no hands-on learning facility on the West Coast, the university has a chance to take the lead in this area. As Armstrong notes with regard to the current hospitality program, “We have a lot of the pieces, but have not put the puzzle together yet.” The property would be an operating hotel on-campus, but would serve as a prime example of “learn by doing,” as those in the program essentially run the business with oversight from faculty. The conference center would be an adjunct to the hotel and would be available to the community for events and conferences, as well. Further, a type of sports complex, which may house larger events, on the level of 5,500 to 6,000 attendees is part of the feasibility study and could be adjusted to house a large diversity of activities from basketball games to concerts.

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