Finding Common Ground

The Common Ground is one of liveliest and busiest places on the Queen’s campus – a welcome sight to anyone with a few dollars to spend on coffee, especially on those early, cold, Kingston winter mornings. But there is more to the Common Ground’s appeal than its coffee – although, the coffee is good – there’s something undeniably alluring. Perhaps it is the track lighting, dimmed in the evening to give the space a warm, welcoming feel. Or, perhaps it’s the soft arm chairs and plush couches that draw you in, and beckon for you to sit and rest awhile. Whatever the motivation, there’s a reason why people head back to campus on blustery nights for lattes and cookies from the Common Ground when they could just as well  stay in and avoid the cold.
 

 In many ways the Common Ground reminds me of the calm at the heart of the storm, although you might wonder how anyone could find a moment’s peace, what with the steady parade of people; the constant chatter and laughter, and music streaming from the speakers hanging from the ceiling; the clatter and scraping as furniture is dragged around the room; the whirr of the barista; the shouts of orders at the sandwich counter… But one look around the room, amid the confusion and the fanfare, and you see it – people curled up, relaxing as they read the newspaper or do their homework or close their eyes for a nap, and all seemingly oblivious to the crazy world around them.
 

The Common Ground, despite its name, is anything but common. If it were, what would there be to stop customers from going to the Tim Horton’s downstairs, or to the Starbucks up the street, or to any one of the other coffee shops – Second Cup; Coffee & Co.; the Sleepless Goat – that pepper the streets surrounding campus? Of course, factors like personal preference, convenience, time, and the availability of funds will always play a role in dictating where a person buys their morning coffee or mid-afternoon pick-me-up, but in a world where $4 lattes can be found in any number of coffee houses across the city, what is it about the Common Ground that ensures there is always a long line-up in the morning? Just as Starbucks calls forth images of busy street corners in the bustling urban landscape; just as Tim Horton’s rouses thoughts of Canadian suburbia and long drive-thru line-ups, so too is the Common Ground meant to evoke feelings from the Queen’s community.
 

How the Common Ground is perceived, and our response to its landscape, has been carefully engineered. The Common Ground, like Starbucks or Tim Horton’s, is just another brand whose image has been deliberately crafted, marketed and sold to us in an attempt to win our patronage in a world of endless competition. Every day we are sold the image of the Common Ground as a warm and inviting place, and every time we stand in line for a frothy latte, or sprawl out on a couch between classes we buy into the marketing of the Common Ground’s landscape, and in doing so we both acknowledge, and submit to, the power that branding and imaging has over us.
 

As its names implies, and its website attests, the Common Ground is a place meant to be enjoyed by all, despite age, race, gender, preference , and or ability. You don’t have to be a member of the Queen’s community; you don’t need to have a valid I.D.; you don’t even have to like coffee to find the Common Ground welcoming or accommodating to your tastes. The coffee house is meant to serve as a space on campus where all people are equal, where all people have, quite literally, common ground.
 

Whether or not this aspect of the Common Ground’s image is consciously recognized by those who frequent it is hard to gage. Generally speaking, I think the cues are subtle. One look around the Common Ground on an average day, however, will prove that a diverse group of people use the space provided – there are people of visible ethnic backgrounds; conversations in different languages and spoken in heavy accents; faculty jackets of all colours and decorated with many different year crests; profs on coffee runs; even local high school kids out on their lunch break.
 

What I do find interesting is that such a diverse group of people would find a coffee house at a Canadian university so appealing. Could this simply be the result of a very good marketing campaign, or is it perhaps evidence of a greater force at work in the world? Or is it a little of both?
 

Coffee enjoys universal appeal thanks to globalization – that all-powerful entity; that unifying, homogenizing force which, good or bad, has swept across the planet and left a global culture in its wake. Coffee’s popularity spread over the centuries with the forging of new global ties, and as such, coffee and the coffee house have become somewhat symbolic of our new, global culture, especially now that Starbucks dot the globe.

    For the most part people see in the coffee house something that is familiar, despite their place of origin – this is true, also, of the Common Ground. The Common Ground may not be identical to the American, European or Asian incarnation of a coffee house, but thanks to a new world order, huge transnational enterprises like Starbucks, and a global mediascape that perpetuates our love affair with coffee and coffee shops, places like the Common Ground are at least recognizable, familiar. With familiarity, of course, comes comfort, and people flock to what it is comfortable.
 

So, the Common Ground is inviting to the public because it is familiar and comfortable, and we find ourselves drawn into the landscape because it reminds us of places back home, however far off that may be. All of these notions, however, are discrete – they act on our subconscious. We do not recognize the Common Ground’s landscape as inviting because of its familiarity, we simply see in the landscape a nice place to sit and enjoy the relaxed atmosphere. But there is a real power embedded within this landscape, even if that power doesn’t seem readily apparent. The Common Ground’s landscape does have an influence on us – from the food and drink we consume, to the music we hear while we are there. More than that, however, it influences how we perceive and use the space around us, as well as the relationships, interactions and routines we establish while we are there  –  where we sit; who we sit with; the people we talk to; the topics we discuss; how long we stay; where we go when we leave …
 

But power is a two-way street. Landscapes are constructed and those who do the constructing – whether as a marketing ploy or as the foundation for a cultural movement – have power over what they create, how and why. Once created, though, a landscape is offered up for redefinition, and this time it is the consumer, the user, the everyday person who lives on and in the landscape, who has the power and the influence to reshape the space. In this sense, it is a very delicate symbiotic relationship, one feeding off the other, sharing power and continuously growing and evolving in a complex organic system. Just as the landscape of the Common Ground lends direction to our everyday decisions – of what to eat; when to head home after class – so too do we help mould the landscape in order to better suit our own needs.
 

In a world full of coffee houses, the Common Ground’s landscape is similar enough to the landscapes of other coffee houses so as to appear familiar, but not too similar so as to seem common. Indeed, in this day and age, with endless talk of global culture, there is a growing recognition of the importance of individuality and uniqueness of place. Yes, there is a distinctness about the Common Ground, a flavour that is unique to the  Queen’s community, and it’s the result of the influence of those who inhabit the Common Ground’s landscape on a daily basis.
 

The Common Ground is an integral part of the vibrant Queen’s tapestry. It is, itself, symbolic of the university’s landscape, created to provide a place where all aspects of Queen’s life can intersect; where numerous spheres  – academics; social relations; culture; politics; economics – can overlap. It’s where people come to do their homework before class; where they share stories with their friends over cake; where they watch movies on Thursday nights or catch amateur talent on Monday evenings at Open Mic; where they bring first dates; where they stay up all night long studying for finals; where they find dinner on the run; where they meet for informal tutorials, or to continue their debates after class is over.
 

In many respects the Queen’s community has constructed in the Common Ground a home away from home for its patrons. A place of refuge where you can curl up on a couch and read a book or have a nap, meet friends, enjoy a meal, work on assignments, listen to music, watch TV, or sit at the window and watch the world go by. And in a world of instant communication, enjoying the comforts of the Common Ground means that you don’t have to sacrifice your accessibility to the outside world. Cell phones allow for easy access to friends and family, the discarded remains of the day’s paper is evidence of the public’s desire to stay informed on national and international news, while wireless internet connections mean those with laptops can instantaneously link to friends, family and up-to-the-minute information without ever moving from their couch.
 

The Common Ground, then, is symbolic of a number of things. Not only is it a home away from home for busy students, but it represents a place where the various spheres of university life intersect and unfold. More than that, I think, it’s greatly symbolic of the effects of globalization, as are the people who frequent the coffee house. In a world where time and distance seem to have converged and compressed, it’s not so much that our lives have sped up, but that we have learnt to do much more in the time we have. My generation is that of the multi-tasker, and places like the Common Ground are our bases of operations. One glance around the Common Ground on a regular afternoon and it becomes clear that it is not merely a place to meet friends or have a bite to eat. It is a place to eat lunch, meet friends, finish the daily crossword, research a paper and chat with a friend in another city all at once.
 

I realize that not everyone would view the Common Ground as I do – my perceptions are influenced by my interactions with its landscape. I have a fondness for the Common Ground, but others might view it as a place that is too loud; too busy; too single-minded. Or, perhaps, others see it as being a space that is not accessible or welcoming to all. Ultimately, our biases taint how we view the world, interact with it, and perceive how others interact with it. Perception, of course, changes with time and new experiences. Four years ago, as a freshman, I hardly gave the Common Ground a second thought – there were too many things about it that just weren’t appealing to me. Today the Common Ground is my favourite place on campus. When and where and why that opinion changed I am not sure, but, I think it might have had something to do with a new appreciation for lattes and very comfortable couches.