This is my fourth winter at Northwestern, and I have a confession to make: I have never used the Norris University Center ice rink. Whether or not gliding across its frozen surface is an integral part of the “NU experience” is up for debate. Norris’ aggressive ad campaign for the rink suggests as much. What I know for certain is that my ability to do so gracefully is out of the question. A cruel combination of clumsiness and incredible athletic inability has rendered me useless on skates. Still, I would love the opportunity to try.

The reality is that the ice rink provides something that is often lacking in Evanston: an inexpensive, fun activity that doesn’t entail listening to hours of country music in a sweaty off-campus basement, or eating at Chipotle for the third time this week (for the record, skate rentals cost about half the price of a burrito). It would be a creative date idea. And, if all else fails, there’s a gorgeous lake view.

I finally realized the nature of my inability to use the rink on a frigid Sunday morning last year while attending a student group meeting in the Evans Room. During a break in the discussion, our group watched as a graduate student flawlessly tore up the rink, twirling through the air and landing with profound elegance again and again, the pockets of his cargo pants rippling softly in the breeze. He gathered so much speed that at times I worried he would fall over the side, but always managed to channel his momentum back toward the center of the ice.

And then it hit me: This thing needs railings.

If I am to brave the ice, I need to be guaranteed that my time on the rink will not end with me faceplanting into the hard tundra known as East Lawn. Take a look for yourself; the rink is surrounded by a plastic enclosure that extends no more than two feet above the ice. Such a barrier is not a safeguard; if anything, it’s a tripping hazard. In short, I need something to crash into.

Newtonian mechanics are clear on this point: An object in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. I wish I were skilled enough to generate this force myself with a subtle turn of my skates, allowing me to slide comfortably to a stop. But the reality is that I am not, and that this force will have to come from somewhere else.

Adding railings to the ice rink does not sound prohibitively expensive; labor costs likely comprise the majority of the price for erecting enough plywood to prevent me from crashing through the barrier. Additionally, the University could save money in insurance by providing a safer skating experience to its students, helping to offset the cost of the project.

Ultimately, however, the addition of a railing is a question of student happiness. I know for a fact that there are many nonathletic students at NU who, like me, will probably never successfully throw a crumpled ball of paper in a trash can or win an arm wrestling match. But I believe that among us there are many who would make use of our campus’s ice rink given a far lower probability of our foreheads meeting the snow that surrounds it.

I freely admit that there are greater issues facing NU students, one of which being our inability to enjoy ourselves. This column is not intended to be my magnum opus on student life at NU. But add a railing to the Norris ice rink, allow me an hour to skate away my stress and maybe I’ll have the peace of mind to write it.

Noah Kane is a Weinberg senior. He can be reached at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this column, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected].