Housing is where the heart is

The typical first-year Columbian wanders to his or her residence hall, searching for that perfect, adequately justifiable means of procrastination. The most prevalent of words passing through the first-years’ rooms nowadays is some variation of “housing.” Second-years have this down—they’ve struggled through the bitter winters of unsatisfactory conditions, incompatible roommates, and the ever-troubling sacrifice of privacy. It is the first-year—poor thing—that is still troubled by such decisions—should he or she pick McBain and give up cleanliness, pick Wien and give up modern technology, or pick Furnald and give up life in general? And—please tell—how can he or she possibly, possibly, end up with a single?

Such are the questions tumbling through the minds of Columbia’s youngest intellectuals. The environment in which we live throughout the nine months of Columbia’s academic calendar has an extreme influence on the quality of our year. Therefore, in deciding which building we shall choose to call home for the next chapter of our studies, much information must be considered. In choosing a home to purchase, even a hotel to book, an individual must be properly educated as to what he or she is getting him- or herself into with that decision. We’ve all heard the stories. Kimberly wanted Carman but got John Jay instead. Johnny wanted Furnald but ended up in Carman. Such circumstances could not be avoided—there was no choice in the matter. However, we must take a step back and consider whether Johnny or Kimberly ever really knew why they wanted Carman or Furnald.

Each of the dorms on campus comes with its own label—the unsocial Furnald, the wild Carman/McBain, the studious Hartley/Wallach, the coveted East Campus. Yes, we all know them—but do we really? How many members of the class of 2013 have actually been inside McBain or East Campus?

In making such an influential decision, students must base their reasoning on fact, not myth. Who would have known how nice the rooms of Furnald can be, or how quiet the halls of Carman remain many-a-day? We must educate the students of Columbia about the true characteristics of each individual dorm. The rumors may be true, but in actually experiencing life in each particular dorm, your average Columbian would be better-suited for making such an important decision.

Therefore, we must find a way to properly display the traits most unique to each residence hall. Don’t we deserve, as potential residents, to test out the life of a [insert residence hall here] resident? A great solution to the perplexity haunting baby Columbians could come in the form of more open “Days on Campus” for undergraduates. Just as we did in the early months of Spring 2009, we should have the opportunity to stay with an overnight host in a residence hall—only this time, a residence hall of our choosing. Being able to actually experience the residents’ life from within would give us the perfect opportunity to test the labels that are so tightly glued to each dorm. A mere tour cannot do the trick. We must live as we would as second-year residents.

Though this could not begin to answer all of the questions currently troubling first-years, it might provide them with a bit more confidence as they face the second year of their Columbia education. Roommate horror stories, unhappiness, and the “I-wish-I-were-an-upperclassman” speech will prevail, but perhaps next year there will be a lower percentage of sophomores wondering whether they made the right choice. There must be a reason for each dorm to hold its respective definitive label. These stamps of generalization have obviously developed and lasted through many generations of students. But, as we live within a diverse population of young minds, we must ask ourselves whether these labels mean quite the same thing to each of us. Is it possible that the Columbia student body may reach differences of opinion in certain areas of life? I think so. My Furnald may be your Carman. So, freshman, do your research. Don’t ask whether McBain is the best place to live as a sophomore—rather, try to find out whether McBain is the best place for you to live as a sophomore. And good luck with snatching that single.

The author is a Columbia College first-year.