Frankly, the freshmen this year ““ at least the ones who don’t live in a place called Dykstra ““ have been missing something. A little something a friend of mine describes as “the aura of college.”
For me, “the aura of college” was living in Hedrick Hall last year: third floor, north side. End-of-the-quarter pizza parties in the lounge from people trying to burn swipes and spontaneous hallway conversations were commonplace.
In contrast, my floor this year is socially dead. And I think a lot of that stems from older residents’ general apathy toward socializing because most of them have already found their niche at UCLA.
My own experience has convinced me that living on an exclusively freshman floor should be integral to every UCLA student’s first-year experience to build that “aura of college.” But as it stands, Dykstra is currently the only building whose residents are primarily freshmen. The rest have been scattered into the various residential buildings.
I don’t think it’s unreasonable to block off a few floors in each building for only freshmen. Incoming freshmen should have the option of living in these communities: in plazas, in halls and in suites. And when the new halls on the Hill open up, certain floors in those buildings should be open only to freshmen.
Call it confirmation bias, but I can’t help but notice these days that the wide-eyed, earnest freshmen I met in the fall are a bit displaced. Since fall quarter, they have found their social niche and identity with various organizations around campus and not with their floor. Why?
The most common answer: “My floor is dead.”
At this point, the Office of Residential Life is unlikely to implement exclusively freshman floors, said Dana Pysz, assistant director at the Office of Residential Life. While specific plans for the new buildings are not defined, Pysz said the office did not want to take away a returner’s choice to live in a variety of places, including in dorms that are generally considered first-year dorms.
But UCLA could reserve more floors in buildings in less-than-ideal locations, like Hedrick, to be exclusively for freshmen. Returners would also be less likely to choose to live in these buildings.
As it is now, freshmen are stuck living in a social slump among sophomores like me.
I remember a scene from the first few days of the school year. A few guys on the floor were bunched in my room making the obligatory half-hearted attempt to meet people.
It was awkward: some small talk, more shameless name-dropping. So how about them Lakers?
Despite sharing a common floor, we struggled to find a common ground. Today, I still live in a room, but not on a floor.
Of course, that is not to say incoming students could not choose to live with older students. Some freshmen do flourish living with older students. Others flail and flounder. But older students are often valuable for advice and perspective or for simply being good friends.
But freshmen can also get to know older students outside of the floor and often in organizations more geared toward their individual interests. At the end of the day, a floor is only one of many means by which people are brought together.
I won’t pretend like I was part of the social nucleus on my floor last year. To be sure, in the end I found my niche outside.
Some fall in love with their floors. Some reject it. And still others are rejected by it. But to really build a relationship with your floor ““ well, that takes work. It’s as hard as anything else.
UCLA is a big school. And many of the students who have been here for a while already know their place on campus.
Despite the walk, this place just becomes a little smaller when you’ve lived on a floor in Hedrick.
Don’t think freshmen-only floors are a good idea? E-mail Hu at rhu@media.ucla.edu. Send general comments to opinion@media.ucla.edu.