Yesterday at noon, about three dozen Cornell workers and students gathered in front of Day Hall carrying signs that read “Cornell workers deserve a fair contract” and cheered as passing buses and cars honked in agreement.

“What do we want? Fair contract! When do we want it? Now!” yelled participants in the rally. “When working families are under attack what do we do? Stand up, fight back!”

Overgrown quads crawling with ticks. Cracked sidewalks unplowed in mid-winter: impassable. Showers caked with inch-thick mold. Classrooms dusty, dirty and unkempt. Dorm bathrooms still reeking of last weekend’s now-hardened vomit. Dining hall buffets empty. Scared, starved students calling out to mommy in bewilderment. A university unhinged, rendered inert.

This description of life without Cornell workers is overly dramatic, of course. A lame attempt at shock and awe. But what would become of our school without the services provided by these workers? How much are their services worth?