When the construction fences came down around the University of New Mexico’s Duck Pond on Aug. 4, students expected the return of a refreshed campus landmark. The dearly missed duck pond was a place where students could breathe, study and watch the ducks and turtles float lazily by. What students found instead looked less like an oasis and more like a Cold War set piece.
The newly renovated pond doesn’t look like a sanctuary; it looks like brutalist architecture in miniature. Stark concrete borders, harsh angles and the erasure of natural flow have left the space cold and unwelcoming. What was once a green, organic centerpiece of campus life now feels more like a monument to efficiency and bureaucracy rather than beauty and community.
Several longtime features are missing: trees that shade students and hammock-hangers alike have been cut down;benches and chairs that made the pond a social hub have been reduced; ducks were relocated to the UNM Championship Golf Course during construction, and the turtles will not return. Please, bring my turtles back.
It’s true that some changes are for the better. Rosie Dudley, director of Campus Capital and Space Planning, said in a UNM Newsroom story from October, 2024 that, “The Duck Pond has been a loved and recognized destination on UNM's Central Campus for decades,” and “is in critical need of restoration to improve and sustain the environmental health of the pond and surrounding landscape.”
Michael Pierce, a UNM project and construction manager, told the Daily Lobo in June that improved lighting and a safety shelf to help people who fall into the ponds and ADA-compliant pathways were added.
While these changes are important and necessary, do they need to come at the expense of the pond’s character? Could trees, seating and wildlife have been preserved instead of minimized?
This isn’t the first time campus aesthetics have clashed with student sentiment. When the Center of the Universe sculpture was first installed outside Zimmerman Library, it was widely mocked as an eyesore, according to UNM Newsroom. Over time, though, students grew to accept it — some even embracing its quirky presence. The Duck Pond, however, is different. It wasn’t meant to be an abstract installation or a conversation piece. It was a living, breathing part of campus culture and its redesign has stripped away that character.
The Duck Pond has never been just a pleasant place to stroll through as we’re heading to class like the Center of the Universe. Students enjoyed the space by sprawling on its grass, families fed its ducks and tightrope walkers perilously traveled between its trees. It was messy, soft, and alive. Now, the space feels sterile, more suitable for a military parade than for frisbees and a relaxing conversation.
The Duck Pond wasn’t perfect before, but it was ours. Now it feels like it belongs more to architectural plans than to the students who built their memories around it.
We deserve a campus that inspires us — not one that makes us feel like we’re living in the shadow of concrete walls. The ducks may not mind the redesign, but for the rest of us, the pond has lost its soul. The pond’s concrete may hold water — but it won’t hold our tears.
Nate Bernard is the managing editor for the Daily Lobo. He can be reached at managing@dailylobo.com or on X @natebernard14
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Nate Bernard is the managing editor for the Daily Lobo. He can be reached at news@dailylobo.com or on X @natebernard14
