Upon one’s transition from high school to college, the world seems to over-turn itself: your personal living space is reduced to 100 square feet, cafeteria food becomes a gourmet dining experience and it seems to rain at least three days a week. Most notably, unlike their lowly status in high school, college freshmen seem to have it all – in particular, the greatest quality of life in the dorms.
Thinking back to my own freshman year in Webster Hall in the Orchard Hill Residential Area, several images come to mind: silly ice-breakers, overly competitive Floor Wars dodge ball tournaments, chronically open doors. I easily befriended people I had nothing in common with but a shared residence hall simply because I could – and it was awfully convenient. Dinner was an effortless social affair that occurred by casual knocks on doors evolving into large gatherings in the lobby and over-flowing tables in the dining commons. Homework help and collaboration was usually within a 10 foot radius. Freshman year was a time of open social opportunity and inclusiveness which I at the time took for granted.
Eager to hold onto the positive dorm experience I had my freshman year, I opted to live in the same residential area this year with the hopes of a similarly communal environment. But alas, my expectations have not been met. Following a hasty floor meeting the second night of school, rarely do I see the faces of those on my floor, and the names of my next door neighbors are tragically foreign to me. My friends in various living areas on campus have all reported a similar predicament of a lack of community in their residence halls.
Admittedly, I do not exactly make an effort to reverse these trends. Since I have finally come to my logistical senses, I no longer make the effort to trek up the hill more than once a day, and once I do muster up the energy to brave this physical and mental obstacle, my dorm has primarily become a place to work and sleep, which I prefer to do behind a closed door. So unfortunately I, too, am at fault in creating such an anti-social atmosphere.
Perhaps the less communal environment in upper-classmen dorms is a natural part of the increasing independence that older college students come to prefer. As most students are already socially settled on campus, the dynamics in the dorm become much more like those in the real world, where the odds of befriending one’s neighbors usually rests on the quality of the pasta salad you bring to your annual block party. But this is college. Why rush into the real, indifferent world before its time?
Several weekends ago, I attended the Residence Housing Association retreat in the Berkshires as a member of my House Council Programming Board. Away from my default group of friends and stuck on a rustic campsite with no electricity, I entered a mode of aggressive friendliness similar to the one in the early weeks of my freshman year. Through team-building activities such as a high- and low-ropes course and canoeing, instant connections were formed between House Council members from all living areas. The retreat was an incredibly liberating experience that awakened me to the potential a group can have so long as its members are cooperative and open to change.
It is the role of RAs and Residence Life staff to do their utmost to promote a sense of community within their residence hall (read: provide free food). As for students, next time you’re about to leave the comfort of your room to go brush your teeth, put your best smile on, and look both ways before you cross the hallway.
Merav Kaufman is a Collegian columnist. She can be reached at [email protected]
