I usually get reactions of doubt when I tell students who do not live on campus that UCLA undergraduate apartment rooms are separated by gender.
I ran into the issue last year during room sign-up, when my request to live with two female apartment mates felt all but revolutionary at first. Ultimately, I decided I’d feel more comfortable living with two female friends, and articulated this concern to the housing office.
Initially told to hope for the best and referred to the normal change-of-assignment request that students are not guaranteed, I was finally able to change my booking after 10 days of back-and-forth email exchanges and phone calls. It felt unnecessary having to jump through these hoops to get my current gender-neutral living situation.
The current system has the potential to place students into situations they’re uncomfortable with. It reinforces gender norms that have no basis in reason, and deprives us of agency in the important decision of choosing roommates.
To alleviate these issues, UCLA Housing should introduce gender-neutral rooms as an option that students can opt for in the housing sign-up process. Universally, we all have simple criteria for those we live with: They’re nice, and even if we’re not best friends, we get along. Gender isn’t a relevant parameter for everyone, and if it is, students could still indicate that in their preferences.
Gender-neutral rooms are technically possible in the status quo – as in my case – but only through a special request, making them more inaccessible to students. Exceptions to same-gender housing policy are relegated to a case-by-case basis, in which students either may not feel comfortable divulging their specific situations to housing employees, or simply don’t want to put up with the trouble of reaching out.
Why the rooms are segregated is a good question. Often, students, parents or administrators offer vague, unsubstantiated answers that tread concerns of student safety or comfort.
But it’s a question that UCLA Housing doesn’t necessarily have an answer for. Gender-separated rooms aren’t really in place for any given reason, but is rather just the way the room-selection technology has been in place as a norm. Sarah Quinn, director of UCLA Housing, explained that the technology needs to be updated, while still engaging the needs of all students. “It’s not necessarily us trying to make a statement in any kind of policy, one way or the other,” she said. She added that the room sign-up system evolves every year, and that housing services always values students’ feedback in the process.
A gender-inclusive option should be another default component of one streamlined housing process interface that serves everyone. And this inclusivity should also be extended to the Hill. With the arrival of 2017, the gender, sexuality and society-themed housing floor in De Neve Acacia remains the only institutionalized gender-inclusive housing building. However, this year a new checkbox has been added to the sign-up interface to survey students who would be interested in gender-inclusive and substance-free housing options, Quinn said. “It’s important for all of our students to feel safe, and our goal is to make the process support students as much as possible.”
An updated policy is a step in the right direction toward a university setting of gender equality. To subject thousands of our students to default gender-segregated living situation implies that we’re drastically different from one another in some way. This updated policy is in line with UCLA’s mission to allow us to develop a diverse, open-minded community.
Policy rooted in gender equality can take advantage of the fact that roommates are one of the most important and educational parts of the college experience. They’re a major part of our first exposure to living on our own and learning from the perspective of someone who may come from a different background than us. For some of us, living with other people signals our initial transition into adulthood.
And the policy will be favorable among a population of liberal-leaning students especially. In 2014, Rowan University, a large public institution in New Jersey, surveyed students, to which 71 percent of the participants responded they “felt students of any gender should be able to share an apartment or suite,” and 50 percent responded that they “were somewhat or very likely to select this option if it were available.”
The needs of students cannot be generalized under a framework of preconceived stereotypes, binary gender and heteronormativity. Student experiences are diverse – one cannot decide an ideal, safe or comfortable living situation for students based on their gender identity or sexual orientation alone.
This often applies to LBGTQ students, who are already subject to navigating gender norms differently in their lives.
First-year English student Armando Berumen, who identifies as queer, ran into the same issue. “The only other men I know are living on the Hill next year. Eventually, I solved the problem, but housing should be based on preference. People should have complete autonomy when it comes to who they want to live with and not have to jump hurdles around arbitrary and archaic gender rules.”
There is also the heteronormative myth that romantic couples will take advantage, and thrust themselves into a year of close-quarters tension, breakup and other issues. But the University of South Dakota states on its website that, “Research from other universities does not show a high number of couples applying for this housing option.”
Many would benefit from a gender-inclusive system like this in place; there is no benefit to maintaining default gender segregation, and UCLA is one of many institutions that are lagging in abolishing an outdated paradigm of single gender-designated rooms.
Persisting to get my current housing situation – living with two girls who are good friends of mine – was one of the best decisions I made toward having a pleasant living experience this year. UCLA shouldn’t be the one to make these crucial decisions for us. After all, this is the beginning of our adulthood.