If you’ve been following the uproar over the new Residential Life room reservation fees, there are three things you probably know: First, that student groups are unhappy about it; second, that ResLife made the decision out of financial need; and third, that ResLife has not been open to student group input on the fee structure or on how this affects student groups.

These are all true, but they are not the full story. For example, the ResLife staff has worked heroically to negotiate workable rates with individual student groups. On the flip side, ResLife spends the equivalent of twice the cost of these rooms on free housing for Event Assistants.

But as compelling (and confusing) as all the talk about money is, it only obscures the larger issue: These new fees cripple student groups where it really counts—where they serve students, especially underclassmen, who have not yet found a place where they belong.

As President of WU-SLam, I can only look at this through the lens of our history. From the earliest days of meeting in common rooms to our expansion into Ursa’s Fireside, WU-SLam has relied on luck, charm, and whatever we could get for free. We held our first Grand Slam on a budget of zero dollars, and pulled five hundred people into Tisch Commons, which had never held a major event before. In short, we have always been a truly grassroots organization.

As a grassroots organization, we have been sustained by the consistent support of the student body, who have packed out show after show, workshop after workshop. And we have been sustained by the many opportunities available for student groups for free.

Without these opportunities, we would have had nowhere to hold our first workshops or slams. More specifically, under the new fee structure, we could never have moved our weekly meetings out of the Gregg common room and into Ursa’s Fireside, a move which has created a greater sense of legitimacy and a boom in attendance—from five or ten people attending each week to thirty or forty.

If the fees remain at their current level, we won’t be able to use Fireside anymore. Next year’s freshmen will have a harder time finding workshops, and fewer of them will make the effort to find us. We’ll lose membership, and they will lose the life-changing experience that WU-SLam has represented for so many.

But this isn’t really about WU-SLam. We’ve been incredibly fortunate in the amount of support we’ve received for workshops and slams alike, and as much as it will hurt us to move out of Fireside, ultimately we can survive it.

What I’m worried about is the next WU-SLam. The next group that starts off the sweat and dedication of a few students, with the potential to captivate the whole campus in a matter of a few years. The next group with so much raw talent it could change the conversation on a national level. The next group that brings students together across racial, cultural, academic, and other demographic lines, uniting people who otherwise would never have met.

Will that student group be stuck in common rooms because it can’t afford to move into Ursa’s or other well-known, central spaces? Will the loopholes and opportunities that allowed WU-SLam to become successful be bricked up by fees and red tape?

As students who care about the future of the Wash. U community, we have a responsibility not to let that happen. To say that on the 40 of all places, where people are finding and inventing themselves, we should be rewarding innovation and grassroots organization, not establishment or money. That every new student group deserves the opportunity for a space like Fireside, even if they can’t budget for it. We have a responsibility to email and talk to ResLife over and over until they realize that this is not something we are willing to accept.

In my three years here, I have seen WU-SLam born and struggle to find its legs. I have seen us become popular beyond anyone’s wildest hopes, and pack out Edison in only our third year. I have seen us gain national recognition, including ranking fifth in the nation last year. I know how much of that is because of luck, and because of the opportunities that were available to us.

Seeing how far we’ve come in such a short time is heartbreakingly beautiful. Even more heartbreaking is the thought that our success might never be repeatable.