There are a lot of problems with the RPS dining services, and five Opinion writers weighed in with their specific grievances.
Carson Henley
Paralyzed under the fluorescent lights of Wright Food Court, tray in hands, Crimson Card at the ready, skeptically scanning my options, price is the least of my concerns.
I do not bother to stop and turn items over to see how much they cost. After cluttering my tray with options, I make my way to the register to pay, unaware of exactly how much I’m about to spend because, frankly, I couldn’t figure it out beforehand if I tried.
I have to stand there and watch them ring up a lunch that is all marked up to be marked down and converted to I-Bucks, despite the fact I view the total in what I understand to be real bucks. It’s because RPS wants me to be standing there, feeling exactly how I’m feeling: clueless and confused enough to blaze through a meal plan my parents are paying for without questioning it.
A far superior system is staring us in the face, seen at Purdue University, Ball State University and countless other universities. Meal swipes. They allow students to swipe their card once for a meal and walk away with as much food as they want as long as they don’t leave the dining hall with the food. Meal swipes are a less exploitative approach, and they ensure that students won’t skip meals to save points or ignore spending and hope for the best.
Elsbeth Sanders
One thing I have noticed in my three semesters living in the Southeast neighborhood of campus is the lack of vegetarian or vegan options at the dining halls. Yes, I can order a sandwich without meat on it, but ultimately the only option for vegetarians or vegans is a pile of vegetables and maybe some bread.
Forest’s dining hall, for example, is praised by many as the best on campus, however, each concept in Woodland Restaurants only has one or two vegetarian options. People who are vegan who eat in the dining halls run out of new things very quickly. And with the blandness of much of IU’s vegetarian options, this gets frustrating quickly.
When it comes down to it, IU needs to do better than supplying unseasoned vegetables or a veggie burger. Vegetarian and vegan proteins are sorely needed. This means seitan, tempeh or even tofu that’s actually seasoned.
A great example of what IU’s vegetarian options could be is The Traveler in Goodbody Eatery. About once a week it provides an all-vegan menu that often includes vegan protein and isn’t just vegetables and rice. Vegetarian and vegan students shouldn’t have only one day a week where they can eat good food that is actually filling, so if IU applies the concepts at The Traveler to its other eateries, the options would be infinitely better.
Ethan Smith
Personally, I am not a very picky eater. I can eat just about whenever, wherever and whatever. To me, food is just one of those little things that reminds you that life is worth living. Furthermore, I am irresponsible enough to not really recognize every time I am being ripped off because of the price of the food I am buying.
What I can’t stand, however, is waiting for my food. And it’s not because I am some irritable food monger, but rather because I am just a college student. I don’t have a lot to time to wait in line when I have only one hour in between my classes to finish my readings, run across campus and eat a quick meal to make my grandmother stop nagging me.
My biggest problem with dining on campus is that the vast majority of RPS employees are students, and these students work in different locations across a dining hall each day, rendering it quite impossible to adequately train them.
One day I will see that cute girl making my bean bowl at Caliente in Forest, then the next I see her making my coffee at The Round. Both times she takes much longer than she logically should because RPS keeps moving her around to where she is needed, but ultimately it just results in a poorly trained staff and me being late to French class.
Anne Anderson
As someone who has had the misfortune of navigating food allergies in college, I can honestly say RPS does nothing to ease the stress of finding food I can eat.
Almost every RPS restaurant is crawling with cross-contamination, and even if they have allergen-free options available, they’re excruciatingly limited. Even if the employees go so far as to ask if it is a dietary choice or allergy, they disregard the answer. My gluten sensitivity is high enough that if I eat something that is prepared on the same surfaces as foods with gluten are, my body notices.
After looking an RPS employee dead in the eyes and telling him that I need them to use the gluten-free toaster they provide, I watched him toast my gluten-free bread in the same toaster oven on the same tray as somebody’s sandwich with regular, gluten-filled bread.
I’ve worked in food service before and I know that the work can be draining, overwhelming and especially not well-paid, but if the University can’t make allergen-free options readily available everywhere, it should at least train the staff at its one restaurant to understand severity of food allergies.
We pay so much money in tuition, even more so in meal points and living arrangements, the least IU could do is make it possible for everyone to eat
Matthew Waterman
The food in IU dining halls is overpriced. Sandwiches, burgers and burritos tend to be upward of $8. A single slice of cheese pizza is at least $4, and one with toppings is more than $5. Once you add in a side and maybe something to drink, you’ll find that it’s hard to get a full, balanced meal for under $10.
But wait a minute, what about the deep discounts students get through RPS meal plans?
Those so-called “discounts” are completely bogus when you get the “I-Bucks 60 Standard” plan. Students get $1,400 in meal points with a 60 percent discount off posted prices. The price of the plan is $3,500, with $2,100 going to “operational costs.” This total for operational costs just so happens to be 60 percent of $3,500. In other words, students are paying the exact posted prices, dollar-for-dollar.
Flex Bucks work in a similar way. There is a slight discount, but it’s mostly offset by the mysterious “operational costs.” Students can get some genuine discounts with the larger, expensive plans, but all of the discounts are deceptive.
The University is taking advantage of the fact that many students are spending their parents’ money, so they’re willing to pay high prices. This doesn’t turn out well for those of us who have to spend our own money.
