Do you want to live in a building that doesn’t respect you next fall? Look no further than The Standard at Dinkytown, a state-of-the-art apartment complex designed for University of Minnesota student housing.
A 17-story, awkwardly rectangular collection of skyscrapers under construction above Dinkytown looks more like the product of a Minecraft server than the product of a commercial construction company. Clad in a drab brown hue, The Standard is one of Dinkytown’s more intrusive eyesores among its “luxury” apartments.
The building features a variety of amenities including a clubhouse, gym, and outdoor pool. While some may question the usefulness of a rooftop pool in a cold and windy place like Minnesota, The Standard’s website notes that their building is designed to help future residents get the most out of their college experience. We guarantee that you will have a great time.
Standard can advertise as much as it wants by offering boxes of Insomnia cookies to students in its newly opened rental offices and promising “beautiful resort-style amenities,” but its marketing campaign is no different from the rise of luxury housing around the world. It’s pathetically distracting from the fact that it’s there. Dinkytown is negatively impacting our iconic campus district.
Before the 2010s, most of the housing in Dinkytown was clapboard homes and small low-rise apartments. As the university population grew and the demand for housing close to campus soared, the area experienced a real estate development boom. Sidney Hall was first, followed by The Marshall, Venue at Dinkytown, and Fieldhouse Dinkytown.
Having students live close to campus energizes the university community, but there is a right and wrong way to increase housing options for students. Unfortunately, much of Dinkytown is going in the wrong direction.
Myron Orfield, director of the Metropolitan Opportunity Institute, said the proximity to Minneapolis and St. Paul and access to a variety of public transportation options make neighborhoods around universities highly desirable, which helps with rising rent prices. He said it was a contributing factor.
“Through zoning, the city could be using density bonuses or set aside funds to ensure that housing is affordable, but the city is not going to do that,” Orfield said. Ta.
There is no owner of the building itself.
With prices for a single bedroom in a two-person unit at The Marshall nearing $1,200 and a one-bedroom unit at The Standard near $1,700, most students at Dinkytown are looking for a room of their own near campus. If you want one, you’ll pay a pretty penny. . As a result, living with a roommate is often unavoidable, meaning that only students who can manage such exorbitant rents will be able to live comfortably close to campus.
Ash Arbela, a sophomore at the university, said that when looking for an apartment, he primarily prioritizes buildings that are well-maintained, inexpensive and have unique features.
“We want to be able to have a variety of options, not just a white square,” Arbela said.
Crown molding and unique millwork may be too much for a college student to ask for, but Dinkytown’s new-style apartment complexes downplay the area’s architectural history.
“I feel like a lot of them have a gentrified, modern style,” Arbela said. “It looks nice from the outside, but when you go inside, it’s a bit dirty.”
One of the most iconic parts of Dinkytown are the old buildings, such as the former site of Gray’s Campus Drug, the Varsity Theater, and Al’s Breakfast, which give the campus district its unique charm.
New apartment buildings completely ignore that history, blanketing the cityscape with bizarrely colorful architectural monstrosities designed to cram as many students as possible into shoebox-sized bedrooms.
But beauty is not the only problem with these buildings.
Regan Freistak, who lives in the recently constructed field house, said her building already feels abandoned after only two years of student use.
“My microwave just broke this morning,” Frystak said. “We’re paying a lot of money to be there, so it should last a lot longer than it actually does.”
Frystak said the building’s smelly hallways, stains on the carpet from neighbor’s pet urine and peeling paint on the walls are affecting the quality of life inside the building.
“I would say it’s not worth the space you get for the price you pay,” Freistak said.
Although the conditions at the Field House are not representative of all of Dinkytown’s housing stock, other newly constructed apartment buildings have experienced similar frustrating issues. Taking identity as an example, Construction could not be completed on schedule last fall. And for the first few weeks of the semester, hundreds of students were left without an apartment.
All the drama these buildings have caused in the campus community begs the question of why college students need high-end living in the first place. Luxury is something you can enjoy if you land a six-figure job, rather than if you’re already paying thousands of dollars a year in tuition and have no reliable source of income.
What we really need during our college years is not saunas, vast fitness centers, or tanning beds, but housing that is affordable, structurally sound, and respects our rights as tenants.
There is nothing inherently wrong with expanding housing options for students. In fact, I would argue that we need to support students as they continue to grow.
But come on, Dinkytown, let’s cut the fluff.
