The dorm form: which dorm is the best?

In my first column for the Observer, appropriately titled “On Dorm Culture from the Outside,” I discussed my situation as a transfer student who did not receive on-campus housing this fall. I wrote my article in September, when the shock of my long daily walks and lack of residential community were still fresh; now, they feel so routine to me I was jarred last week to hear a girl in my class brag about making it to DeBart in under three minutes (well done to her).

I described my apartment in The 87, my place on the waitlist (lucky number 54) and the 2024 transfer dilemma: did I accept a spot on campus mid-semester at the expense of paying double rent? Or should I remain sequestered off-campus, in our little transfer community, and accept the reality that my first year at ND might look a little different? No matter my decision, at the end of my article, I promised to keep you (my enraptured audience) posted on the transfer housing updates as they unfolded.

Now, at the end of the semester, most of my fellow apartment-dwelling transfers and I still live off-campus. I got off the waitlist at the end of September, when I had already grown too attached to my brand-new bathroom and queen-size bed to make the move. Most, if not all, transfers were offered a chance to move on campus sometime throughout the fall — most of us chose to stay for the semester, and some are even renewing their leases.

Of course, the transfer dilemma has evolved since September. Those of us who plan to move on campus in the spring, which is most of us, face a new decision: how to fill out (what I call) the “dorm form.”

What’s the dorm form? It’s a form giving us the opportunity, unlike all other first-time on-campus residents, to rank our top dorm choices. Opening the form, I was at first excited — I had the opportunity to choose my dorm! I wouldn’t get stuck in any of the famously terrible dorms that people in my classes make jokes about. I would get to live somewhere with the best facilities, the best location, the best culture. My residential problems were solved.

Ready to begin my dorm ranking decision, I sat down to make a list of my ideal places to live. I began with the dreaded dorms I was sure I knew I didn’t want to live in. I was going to write down all the halls I was swearing off. As I sat thinking, however, I realized I couldn’t name one dorm that was actually so terrible. I’d heard bad things about all the dorms. I’d heard great things about all the dorms. People identify so closely with their halls here that it’s hard to even tell the difference between them — while everyone says their dorm is unique, they pretty much describe them the same. 

I am so completely disconnected from the dorms, in fact, that I couldn’t even match which stereotypes I had heard about which. I still mix up Farley and Flaherty (although I’ve been told they’re very different), and I discovered yesterday that besides Walsh Hall, there is a Welsh (Family?) Hall. Although many transfers are, of course, more aware of the halls than I am, I think my complete lack of knowledge speaks to how separated from the broader campus culture I have become while living in my apartment.

While I don’t really subscribe to dorm stereotypes, or really even that the dorm I get is very important (I’ll be relieved to be in one at all), I still grapple with the looming decision of which halls to rank as my favorites. As the dorm form deadline approaches, I have to decide which factors are most important to me: location, facilities, “culture?” Which dining hall do I want to go to? How many girls do I want to live with? Where will I fit best?

The reality is that I will likely only live in a dorm for two to three semesters of my time at Notre Dame. Nonetheless, as I make my final decisions, I invite anyone with a strong opinion on which (women’s) dorm is best to send me an email and make their case. Who knows? You might sway my top three.