
Who’s designing these ugly buildings?
Seems like these shipping container buildings are everywhere. Totally ugly and cheap looking. Imagine a world where Alexandria kept designing like old town.

Seems like these shipping container buildings are everywhere. Totally ugly and cheap looking. Imagine a world where Alexandria kept designing like old town.
I tend to say M-elia/im-elia and for the nickname, M-E. I was recently corrected to say eh-milia and eh-me. What is right? U.S.
I've been associated with GW for a long time now. There is no denying that this is a university unlike any other. It offers life-changing opportunities, attracts ambitious students, and occupies a position in the heart of the nation's capital that few institutions can rival. There is also no denying that GW has struggled for decades with questions of identity, culture, and leadership. I'm writing this partly to vent, but also to offer a perspective that may help prospective students, alumni, faculty, and perhaps even university leaders think more critically about GW's future.
Many of America's most prestigious universities built their reputations during an era when access to knowledge itself was scarce. If you wanted to study with experts in a particular field, you had to physically attend one of a handful of institutions. Today, knowledge is abundant. Anyone can watch lectures online, access research, or teach themselves the fundamentals of almost any subject.
What distinguishes universities now is not simply the information they provide. It is their ability to create networks, communities, and identities. Universities no longer compete solely on knowledge; they compete on connection, belonging, and the opportunities that emerge when talented people come together.
This is where GW's greatest challenge lies.
The institutions that succeed in creating enduring loyalty do so through authentic experiences that make students feel part of something larger than themselves. Administrators often mistake activity for culture. Culture is not created through bouncy castles on a quad or midnight breakfasts during finals week. Those events may be enjoyable, but they rarely inspire lasting pride. Historic spaces become gathering places. Traditions connect generations of students. Clubs create continuity between past and present. Athletics often provide a shared language that unites students and alumni across disciplines and decades. These things matter not because they are superficial, but because they create the social fabric that transforms a university from a collection of buildings into a community.
GW possesses fragments of these elements, but they have never fully cohered into a unified institutional culture. Things need to feel classic and academic, not corporate and soulless. a unifying architecture could help, based off the hall of govt or lisner maybe...
The university has attractive spaces, but few that feel truly iconic. Even the George Washington statue in University Yard (a generic name that has been waiting for a donor) is a mass-produced reproduction. As President Trachtenberg himself acknowledged, many of GW's traditions and symbols had to be deliberately created. At times, campus can feel as though it is imitating tradition rather than expressing one that developed organically.
Student organizations exist, but they often feel disconnected from one another and from the broader university. Too much of the student experience feels temporary. Students pass through GW rather than becoming part of a tradition larger than themselves.
Athletics illustrate this challenge particularly well. Sports matter not because every student attends games, but because they create shared experiences and common memories. Alumni separated by decades can still discuss memorable victories, traditions, and rivalries. Institutions without that kind of unifying force must find alternative ways to create community. GW has never fully solved that challenge, and because of its urban setting, it likely never will.
To be clear, GW's greatest asset has always been its location (as everyone knows). Washington provides access to government agencies, embassies, think tanks, trade associations, nonprofits, media organizations, and some of the most influential institutions in the world. The university's ability to attract prominent speakers, host major events, and connect students to meaningful professional opportunities is nice though so much more could be done.
But location alone cannot create institutional identity.
The city belongs to everyone. Other universities, organizations, and employers draw from the same geographic advantages. The challenge is transforming proximity to power into a culture that students feel proud to belong to long after graduation.
The true measure of a university's culture is not how students feel while enrolled, but how alumni feel twenty years later. Many universities cultivate a lifelong identity that graduates carry with them for decades. GW produces successful alumni, but it has historically struggled to transform professional success into institutional attachment. Too many graduates remember the opportunities Washington provided rather than the role GW may have played.
What makes this especially frustrating is that GW already exerts influence far beyond what its rankings, endowment, or physical campus might suggest. Its graduates are disproportionately represented in government, policy, international affairs, advocacy, media, and many of the institutions that shape public life. The challenge is not relevance. The challenge is building an institutional culture worthy of the influence the university already possesses.
This is why leadership matters.
The central problem facing GW is not a lack of resources, talent, or opportunity. It is a lack of vision. For years, the university has often appeared content to occupy a comfortable niche rather than articulate a bold ambition for what it could become. Stability is important, especially after periods of institutional uncertainty, but stability alone does not inspire students, faculty, alumni, or donors. And stability is the current President's purpose for better and worse.
The opportunity before GW is not to imitate other universities. No institution is better positioned to become the nation's premier university for public leadership. GW should build traditions, spaces, and experiences that transform it into a university that would be worthwhile even if it was removed from DC.
GW is, in many ways, better than it appears. It enjoys a respected reputation, substantial influence, and an alumni network that reaches into the highest levels of government, business, science, and public service. It has achieved all of this despite shortcomings that are, for the most part, fixable.
The most remarkable thing about GW is that ambitious people continue to choose it despite these major gaps in a student's educational experience. They see something here worth believing in. They recognize the university's potential even when its leadership sometimes seems uncertain about it. If future leaders can match the ambition of the students, faculty, and alumni who already believe in that potential, GW could become one of the most distinctive and influential universities in the world.
Feels like GW should be able to get more well known speakers for the national mall... been a while since there was anyone really exciting. Georgetown has Tom Brady (just for the school of business), John Kerry (just for school of foreign service, and Cindy McCain (just for public policy school - not sure if GW even puts that much effort into their public policy school).