The Boston College bookstore in the McElroy building is the central retail center for the university's entire campus. The crowded little store carries basically everything that a student living on campus would ever need. Whether it is a shirt from the large selection of BC clothing, some notebooks from the array of school supplies, a fold-up lounge chair decorated in the school's colors, a magazine, a pack of gum, or simply a few books that all students are required to purchase, the bookstore has it in stock -- it is the Wal-Mart of Boston College. However, students get so distracted by the purchasing requirements and convenience of the store that they fail to realize that the friendly little bookstore is ultimately ripping them off.
"Expensive" is a generous assessment for the bookstore's goods -- "ridiculously over-priced" is a more accurate label. It is a personal financial burden for me, as well as many other students at Boston College, to have these lofty book prices rubbed in my face with the realization that I have no other choice but to pay for them in order to continue my college education.
My frustration with the pricey bookstore is only fueled more by constant reminders of how much I am actually getting ripped off. I was wandering around Borders Bookstore at the local Atrium Mall several months ago when a familiar novel caught my eye. It was a small, one-hundred and fifty-page book that was reasonably priced at $8.50. After a minute or two of trying to recall why the title sounded so familiar, it hit me. I had purchased the same book from the Boston College Bookstore for my first semester Courage to Know course for a stunning $18.00. Growing quickly irritated, I had to double-check the price of the Borders' novel to make sure I was seeing this extreme price difference accurately. How could the BC bookstore be charging over double the price of the novel from the already expensive Borders Bookstore?
Price comparisons with the BC bookstore and other retail services only became more frequent and equally exasperating. A brand new Oxford Annotated Bible priced at $15.00 at a downtown store seemed like a bargain compared to the $25.00 or so that I paid for a used copy at the bookstore. Authentic Boston College hooded sweatshirts at a small Quincy Market shop, identical to the ones carried in the bookstore, ranged anywhere from ten dollars to twenty dollars less than those at the super-expensive McElroy location. And even for notebooks, simple one subject notebooks that every student needs, it seems like the good old bookstore could at least hand those out for a reasonable, friendly price, right? Wrong. An almost identical notebook, with everything but the fancy, embroidered Boston College gold logo, was one-third of the price at CVS than that of the same notebook at the convenient little BC bookstore. Now that's one, expensive logo.
Perhaps if I was in a different financial situation or as wealthy as some of my other peers at Boston College, this extreme overpricing at the bookstore would not bother me quite so much--but I'm not. I pay for every single textbook or school supply that I need, as well as some of my tuition. While back in my hometown of Toledo, Ohio, I work forty hours a week in a warehouse just to afford Boston College and the loans that will be ripping my savings account apart in a few years. Over this past winter break, I worked just about every day for nine hours a day. As profitable as that sounds, the Boston College bookstore made sure that none of that money would be around for very long. I spent well over half of what I made over break on books alone, and the rest went into my account that will eventually pay for my tuition.
I guess the sole problem is that I am actually paying for my own books and I am able to feel the harsh impact of these ridiculous prices. It is very discouraging to think that one nine-hour day in the cold, dusty warehouse paid for not even half the price of one textbook for one class. Something seems wrong with that statistic. Upon figuring out the multiple books I need for each of my five classes this semester, I realized that the final cost completely depletes my savings that I worked all winter break to earn. And believe me, there is nothing more motivating at work than realizing every dime I earn is either paying for a book I'll use for a few months or an incredibly small fraction of my tuition.
Two solutions are possible for eliminating this increasingly aggravating dilemma of absurdly over-priced merchandise at the Boston College bookstore. The first seemingly obvious resolution would be to lower the prices of the books and apparel to more reasonable prices. It would lead to a small decrease in income for the university, but they still certainly would bring in a sizable profit and have a much happier student body. I'm guessing the giant, extravagant Borders Bookstores, with their mere garage-sale-type prices next to those of the McElroy store, are not having much trouble turning in a hefty profit.
The second is less of a financial solution and more of a moral cure for those students suffering from the lofty bookstore prices. If the McElroy Stop'n'Shop really cannot afford to lower the prices, then a reasonable price should be added to the school's tuition for required books. Not that this concept would actually save any student money, but by combining the expenses of the bookstore and tuition, the ridiculous book and merchandise prices would at least not be rubbed in our faces semester after semester. The cost of books would in turn become part of the large sum of tuition (either paid off by one's parents or added to the loan that the student will eventually pay off) and the stress and frustration and of paying for books every semester would be nonexistent.
From the information that I have absorbed in dorms and through friends since arriving at Boston College, a small percentage of students help pay for their own tuition while about a third of the students have admitted to paying for their books. Cutting the cost of the bookstore prices may lead to a slight loss in Boston College's retail business. Yet with a tuition of $44,000.00 a year, a mandatory $3,600 meal plan, and however much money each student puts on his or her eagle card for other expenses, I have reason to believe that Boston College does not have much of a problem making money. Perhaps the first solution fails and costs in no way can be cut.
The second solution is the perfect remedy. Not only would that fraction of students struggling to pay for their own books benefit, but those generous parents would much rather see one large sum in front of them rather than pesky little payments popping up constantly.
If one were to suggest that the Boston College bookstore would lose profit in accordance to my proposals, then I would simply point out to them the thousands of dollars that they lose every year from all those students buying their books online instead. Believe me, it's by no means convenience that drives one to search the web for used books, it's the hundreds of dollars they save every year by buying reasonably priced books at the online stores. The issue of every student needing a different budget for books might also raise some concern. But a universal budget, similar to that of the university's meal plan, is the simple explanation. A generous amount of four hundred dollars or so per semester, tacked on to the overall tuition, would allow for a student to comfortably afford books for the semester. Any unspent money would carry over every year for all four years, and students would be reimbursed for any remaining book money before graduation. Students would not have to come up with that wad of cash every semester for books, and that basic convenience would allow the bookstore to remain a priority over the online stores.
The Boston College McElroy bookstore is a corrupt business. Its system punishes those students who pay for their own books, and only sucks more money from the parents of those who do not pay. As I look ahead to my sophomore year, I cannot help but to dread that awful first couple weeks in which I will drop several hundred dollars on textbooks alone. I will work all summer in anticipation of this shopping spree and will most likely have more than enough money saved up to cover the expensive books. But the harsh reality of those devastating bookstore prices will still plant a deep seed of aggravation and frustration inside me when the time comes.
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