Security, or the Show of It?

Misunderstood, miscommunicated, and mostly ineffective, Middlesex’s new welcome booth has created more problems than it has solved. 

Photo by Lucy Wang

When the new welcome booth appeared at Middlesex’s entrance this fall, confusion spread fast among students. Was it a security measure? A response to rising national concerns about school safety? Or simply a logistical checkpoint for deliveries?

No one seemed to know, because the school never clearly said.

In the absence of communication, speculation filled the void. Many students assumed the “guardhouse” represented a step towards fortifying our once-open campus. Fueled by the belief that the structure was meant for protection of students, opposition quickly grew. After all, if the goal was student safety, why construct a flimsy “shack” with an unarmed attendant at only one entrance to our campus? Why invest in formality over function, especially with something so jarring and unwelcoming into our otherwise bucolic landscape?

The truth, as Director of Campus Security Mr. MacIsaac explained in an interview, is less about safety than about management. The booth functions as a “visitor management point” intended to direct drivers, delivery vehicles, and other visitors to the correct locations. It was never quite intended to serve as a line of defense during threats of attacks. For that, Middlesex continues to rely on the nearby Concord Police for emergencies. The welcome booth, according to Mr. MacIsaac, serves as the “eyes and ears” of the campus who can observe and report irregularities if they arise. 

This clarification matters, because if the welcome booth is never about physical protection, then it must be judged on its practical effects. Here, the evidence about its success is mixed. 

For day students, the booth has created persistent morning traffic jams. Lucy Wang ‘26 reported frequent hold ups in the mornings when vehicles in the front of the line didn’t have their parking permits. Faculty have also encountered issues: one teacher who wished to remain anonymous recounted that the barrier gate nearly struck his car as he was driving in on multiple occasions. Delivery vehicles, especially large UPS or Amazon vans, often struggle to turn around on the narrow road, which lacks designated turnaround zones for maneuvering. Ironically, a system designed to “manage” visitors has instead congested them. 

Another justification for the booth has been the safety of faculty children living on campus. Many of the faculty living on campus I spoke to admitted that they feel reassured by the booth’s presence, believing it deters drivers from speeding and posing a risk to children playing near the Circle. However, while this comfort is understandable, it is, at best, symbolic. A driver stopped at the entrance can just as easily accelerate once they’re waved through. The booth, indeed, does not physically prevent speeding. It merely gives the impression of oversight. 

The most significant issue with the welcome booth, however, lies in its inconsistency. Multiple students have reported that the booth attendant rarely checks leave requests or verifies who enters. Delivery drivers, despite the new system, still appear disoriented, wandering aimlessly across campus or even knocking on faculty doors in search of the drop-off location. In short, the booth frequently fails to fulfill even its stated logistical function.

To the school’s credit, the booth is not an unnecessary structure. In its current form, it was built with reasonable intentions to regulate campus traffic. Yet the lack of communication about its purpose led to widespread misunderstanding, and its flawed implementation has complicated certain aspects of daily life more than it has improved them. 

In the end, the hasty execution of the welcome booth created a gap between the school’s intentions and its actual implementation. Had the planning process involved a bit more dialogue, the outcome would have been far more effective.

By Jessica Wu ‘27

image by: Lucy Wang