This article was originally published in the April 2025 Print Issue of The Sophian.
It’s 12 degrees outside. In Northampton, that means the only adventure left is a two-hour bus journey to Hampshire College to indulge in the childhood whimsies of the Eric Carle Museum. The only direct bus inevitably leaves at 3 p.m. and gets you there by 4 p.m., just in time for the museum to close at 5 p.m., one hour later. After one hurried hour inside, we found ourselves stranded: The Pioneer Valley Transit Authority (PVTA) Bus 39 (the mini one) never showed up, leaving us on the side of an icy roadside without a sidewalk, slowly sliding back into a hill. Deep in Hampshire College’s furthest, most desolate bus stop in the middle of the woods, we took whichever bus came next and would get us out of there. Our only salvation? Chili’s.
The fast-casual chain restaurant off the highway was our only hope to redeem an otherwise dismal western Massachusetts afternoon. But reaching it meant another labyrinthine trip: the nearest bus stop off the B43 was at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. It was nighttime and no campus buildings were open, so we waited for the only miserly student who was leaving the Isenburg Business building on a Saturday evening and chased him down to sneak into a warm lobby. The next bus was coming in 30 minutes, and so we sat there watching the stock market ticker spin for what felt like hours while our limbs thawed.
The problem isn’t that the PVTA bus system is inefficient, it’s that western Massachusetts was never built for people without cars. Many of the accessible restaurants and stores on the main route out of Northampton, Russell Street, are essentially inaccessible on foot. Even fast-food restaurants here in town are unreachable without a car. In a town with bike lanes, how is it that basic crosswalks are missing? Pedestrians trying to cross major intersections must gamble with their lives, all while battling the brutal New England weather. This issue doesn’t just affect students. The PVTA bus system serves a wide range of riders, many of whom rely on it to get to and from work. Along Russell Street, sidewalks come and go, and street lighting is a myth.
This isn’t an accident. America’s infrastructure was designed to prioritize cars and the automobile industry remains one of the country’s most profitable. As I trudged through ice and snow just to get to a restaurant, and then sprinted to catch a bus that inevitably did not show up, of course my only thought was, “God, I wish I had a car.” For me, it was just an inconvenient afternoon. For many others, it’s a daily reality tied to their livelihoods. In rural and semi-rural areas like western Massachusetts, gaps in transportation aren’t just an inconvenience — they pose real dangers for workers, disabled people, and marginalized communities who have few, if any, alternatives.
Adding insult to injury, Smith College is a tax-exempt institution. Despite Smith’s $90,000 annual tuition, the college doesn’t contribute to local, state or federal taxes that might otherwise support better public infrastructure. Instead, millions flow into new administrative buildings on campus while the town’s essential systems stagnate. Every college in the Five College Consortium is tax-exempt, not just Smith. Although the PVTA bus system serves all five campuses, none of them contribute directly to its core funding.
Instead, broke college students and western Massachusetts residents are left footing the bill, even as millions of tuition dollars flow into the region every year. While students ride free during the academic year thanks to a Five College subsidy, and recent state programs have temporarily made buses free for everyone, it’s still not enough. Free rides do little to fix the underlying infrastructure problems such as the missing sidewalks, the vanishing crosswalks, the near-total dependence on cars. The money stays locked inside Smith’s gates, building more administration complexes, while the town’s basic needs are left to weather the storm, sometimes literally.
Is walking a mile in the frigid cold of Northampton’s winter worth the Triple Dipper? This is a question I ask myself every time I’ve exhausted Smith College’s eligible weekend activities. Maybe next winter, I’ll camp out and watch as my tuition builds another glittering new building I’ll never set foot in.
Be First to Comment