Loyola, Get Some Shuttle Etiquette

There are many unspoken rules at Loyola.

Among the range of being glared at for taking the Mundelein elevators to floor 4 and skipping classes the first day it breaks 50 degrees after winter lies another rule too obvious to ever be said aloud — if you want a seat on the shuttle during a rush, you better be prepared to fight for it.  

Loyolans are many things, but when it comes to boarding the shuttle at 8 a.m., fair isn’t one of them. I’ve been first to the Damen statue or winter waiting room on more than one occasion just to find myself standing — or fighting for my life to stay standing — on the bumpy route from Lake Shore to Water Tower Campus. 

Who am I not to love a campus tradition, one which has certainly lasted through my four years here and undoubtedly before? 

Who am I not to appreciate the moment where a group of students goes from aimlessly scattered across the waiting area, scrolling through Instagram or listening to Clairo through wired headphones, to attentive and serious, angling shoulders and elbows to get the best possible position in the shuttle line?

Perhaps line is a bad word. The shuttle cluster. The very best way to start the day. 

As a fourth-year student in the School of Communication, I’ve taken the shuttle downtown at least twice a week since my first year. Except for my time in Rome — when I had to trade in the shuttle for a whole different horror called the 990 — I’ve been subjected to the shuttle every semester of my college experience. 

Nearly every time the shuttle picks up at Lake Shore, people turn into the worst versions of themselves when the bus makes the turn onto Loyola Campus Road. 

Students swarm into a group, moving around for optimal angles to push through the crowd, disregarding whatever order they showed up in. In a matter of seconds, a person who arrived at the stop a minute ago could be comfortably lounging in the upper level. A person who got there 20 minutes ago could be uncomfortably crammed in the standing aisle.

I can’t pretend I’m not guilty. I, too, have traded in my morals and typically reserved nature to secure a seat. I, too, have knowingly been shoved by a classmate who was there before me. I, too, have sat peacefully listening to music as people glare out of windows in front of me. 

But I’ve also been on the other end, forced to shakily stand in the rows and awkwardly squeeze between the other standing passengers who insist on pausing in the front of the shuttle, disrupting the flow of traffic. Even if I was there first. 

I’ve had to balance awkwardly holding onto the camera equipment for my journalism class and the bar above my head. I’ve stumbled. I’ve tripped. I’ve felt unreasonable levels of anger when I see someone who got there 15 minutes after me sitting. 

So, I wonder, or maybe even plead, if we could get some shuttle etiquette. 

It’s a lot to ask, I know. The lack of a proper line at Lake Shore isn’t just expected; it’s a rule. In fact, it’s a way of life at this point. But life has gone on at Water Tower, where the confines of a Corboy hallway keep everyone in the order they arrived in. 

Can we please bring some of that order to Lake Shore? Can we please learn some shuttle etiquette? Can we make a few simple changes? 

Let’s start waiting our turn instead of cutting people off. Let’s keep moving down the aisle instead of pausing at the front of the bus. Standing passengers can put their backpacks on the ground instead of bumping them into everyone and their mother, and the 6-foot-tall man sitting next to me can stop manspreading. 

I know we all want a seat. I know, if we have to stand, we all want to stand at the front. But this has gone on for far too long. 

And please, don’t get me started on any other form of public transit, or especially the TSA.