As an undergraduate student at Georgetown, I am specifically in the McDonough School of Business, which is based in the Hariri building on campus. Hariri is beautiful. It has a grand atrium with a beautiful mixture of wood and glass, staircases that run through it, and nice classrooms and breakout rooms that line its perimeter. I am a student in the MSB to learn, grow, and gain a mastery of various fields in business to prepare myself for a successful career, so why do I care about the beautiful exterior and interior of Hariri? The answer is, simply, that it feels pretty cool to walk into this building and know that it’s mine. Of course, that is a symbolic “mine,” and it feels so petty and superficial to admit, but the appearance of things impact the way we see them. McDonough could have unquestionably the best academics of any business school in the world, yet the building it operates in still somehow provides added legitimacy and prestige to its essence. I know this is silly, but, in truth, appearance impacts the way we perceive things. It’s the same reason that, like the example that Professor Hoskins provided while framing the Commonplace Book project, there is planned, man-made green space upon entering the front gates of campus: it makes us feel good, or it comforts us, or it provides some subconscious reaction and feeling that makes it worthwhile. I suppose that my ability to recognize this is a start to getting past a silly emphasis on looks, but I’m still going to feel like a baller walking into Hariri for my next class.