Stern College for Women is a mysterious institution. What is it about pizza as snaps that keeps us coming back? They’re not even that good! Why can you only sign up for the Career Center on the phone? Why does every chagiga need to be so dark that you need ultra violet to see what’s in front of you? Why, oh why, does YUWireless uninstall so often? But, there are few mysteries as great as floor 2M. As many of you have probably noticed while walking up the stairs in 245 Lex., in between floors 2 and 3 there is a floor 2M. Posted on this door are signs reading, “Do not enter,” “Alarm will sound,” and others of the like. Most people assume that behind this door is the second floor of the Heidi Steinberg library. This is a very logical assumption; the library has a stairwell inside which leads to more study space, from which one gains a bird’s eye view of those studying below. This would seemingly explain the existence of a floor 2M. What should strike you as odd, though, is why is this door alarmed? If the door merely leads to the second floor of the library, why can’t students use this door to easily access their preferred students spots?
This problem has been troubling us since our arrival on the Beren Campus. As senior Elisheva Matanky (SCW ’13) wonders, “I try to take the stairs in an effort to avoid the elevator rush. I am simply going to the third floor, and I can easily walk up three flights of stairs. When I get to the third floor, though, I am unusually out of breath. Why are my legs beginning to wobble? Why am I leaning over the stairwell to catch my breath? Why am I panting uncontrollably? And then I remember I had walked up four flights of stairs. What is 2M’s purpose?” This sentiment has been echoed by hundreds of Stern students, as the puzzle of floor 2M continues.
As investigative journalists, we could not live with this unsolved mystery. We took matters into our own hands, and opened the door. What first struck us as odd was that no alarms went off. We had been prepared to hightail it out of the there at the first sound of a bell ringing. We had even worn gloves as to cover up in case they dusted for fingerprints. The door easily opened, though, and what we found was unlike anything we had seen before. Actually, we had seen it all before. In a place called Washington Heights.
When we first stepped through the doorway, we felt a gush of cold air hit our faces. We looked at each other, unsure of what was happening. All of a sudden, we felt ourselves being lurched forward, by an invisible force. We quickly held hands, frightened as ever. The next thing we knew, we feel our feet landing on the ground. We tried to get our bearings, and quickly realized we were in a familiar place. The mounds of backpacks and LeSportsac luggage gave it away: we had landed in the locker, outside of the girls’ bathroom, in the Heights Lounge. This basement meeting place is well known to the women of Stern College as it is both a gathering spot as well as an excellent place to store belongings during one’s stay in the Heights.
Once we processed what had just occurred, we had so many questions. Floor 2M was a portal to the Heights Lounge? The school had been keeping this a secret? When had this come into existence? Who else knew about it? We felt privileged to be the keepers of this information but knew that with great power came great responsibility. Being the curious women we are, we decided to investigate the matter. We searched high and low for a portal back to Stern, but could not find one anywhere. Since we were in the Heights, we decided to go to Campus Security to see if they had any information on this mysterious portal, and also to sign up for the next shuttle. On a side note, we were not able to sign up for any shuttle before the 2AM. When speaking to the security guards, they were as shocked as we were. “This is a serious breach in security. We pride ourselves on the fact that we check each and every ID of anyone who comes into the library, and to think that someone could simply materialize in the women’s bathroom is frightening,” said an anonymous member of Securitas.
We needed answers. We had been signing up for shuttles uptown and taking hour-long subway rides for absolutely no reason! While some were happy to hear of this new travel mechanism, others were outraged. Miriam Seidman, (SCW ’14) stated in an exasperated tone, “I’m in the Heights every night! If I had known about this, I could have saved tons of time! This type of bittul zman is preposterous!” We knew the students needed answers. We needed answers. The world needed answers. We approached the head honcho herself, Dean Karen Bacon to ascertain the truth behind the portal. Throughout the interview, Dean Bacon seemed alarmed and skeptical. What she told us shocked and concerned us.
We were told that the portal had been funded by the Center for the Jewish Future’s program, YUConnects. “YUConnects conducts educational studies and develops programs that foster healthy meeting opportunities and relationships toward marriage,” as explained on the CJF’s website.Dean Bacon explained to us that about fifteen years ago, research was begun to develop an easier way for the women of Stern College to travel uptown. YUConnects believed that this portal was necessary to connect the two campuses. The portal was finalized, placed on the third floor of 245 Lexington, and was expected to be utilized in the fall of 1995. At this point, Dean Bacon looked at us and said, “You know girls, sometimes good intentions just aren’t enough.” Pressed on the issue, she explained to us that the portal was being misused as a prankster’s paradise. The class of ’95 was notoriously known to be quite mischievous. Day after day Dean Bacon would receive calls from the administration at YC, complaining of objects appearing in the portal landing. One day, they found a few goats that the women of Stern College had sent down the portal. One particularly sneaky Senior wrote a sign on the door to the portal reading, “Writing Center has moved here.” May girls expecting help with their essay found themselves on 185th and Amsterdam. Dean Bacon couldn’t help but smile recalling the innocent freshman looking to expand her horizons who believed portal to be an acronym for “place of rational thinking and literature.”
Due to the misuse of the portal, the university was forced to erase the portal’s existence from YU’s history. Instead of a commemorative upon the door, a sign was put in its place, reading “Floor 2M.” The portal still exists, as the CJF did not have the funding to destroy it. Instead, an alarm was put on the door to ward off any curious students. YUConnects has since changed their tactics to promote mingling. They now use free sushi. Through all of our investigations and inquiries, we never found the portal from the Wilf Campus to Beren. If anyone has any information on unmarked or seemingly useless doors on the Wilf Campus, please contact us immediately, if not sooner.