Residential college system hinders class unity

The Senior Masquerade Ball was a fascinating event. Not only did I get what will surely be a once-in-a-lifetime entrée to the Gotham Citi basement, not only did I see about 40 variations on the costume with wings, and not only did I hear every popular dance song from the past four years remixed and slapped into a medley, but I also encountered for the first time in close quarters vast numbers of my classmates. People I've probably seen before, but not in a memorable way. People I'm not going to remember after the Ball, for reasons relating to alcohol and disguise. So the fact remains that I know only a tiny fraction of the class of '02.

FILE PHOTO

I wish I were familiar with the members of my graduating class. I would probably go to more senior events if I didn't have to round up a JE posse to come with me (and then my class dues would contribute to the ruin of my own liver and not those of strangers, and that, I'm sure, is what the people who paid those dues would want). I would probably also be more eager to come back for reunions for exactly the same reasons. Most importantly, I would be able to sit on Old Campus on Class Day among people who are more to me than "my peers."

I accept that in a class of 1,000-plus students there will necessarily be many whom I don't know. That's okay; I chose that when I chose to attend Yale University instead of some tiny liberal arts cave in the wilds of Pennsylvania. I also chose the residential college system, which in many ways is the best thing about my life at Yale. I know a small group of students and adults and a small patch of land really well, and that's valuable. Considering just how small that group and that patch are, however, the residential college system is also rather limiting, especially to larger class unity.

Seniors are all over the campus, in at least 12 discrete locations plus all the random houses and apartments around downtown. We have good reasons for staying in our own corners: generally, we're busy and preoccupied and depressed, so we seek out the comforts of our own dining halls and common rooms and butteries and libraries. We also have a great reason for not venturing into other territories; namely, that we're locked out of them.

Dining halls especially could be ideal facilitators of intercollege socialization. Our severely lame meal plan, however, has ruined their potential. Why go eat nasty food somewhere far away when you could get the same nasty food only 100 feet from your bedroom? The few Pan Geos stations do something to counter this effect, but they are not reliably less nasty than the regular food. College renovations accomplish hardly anything. Despite the separate menus that apparently must be printed every day, Berkeley, Branford, and Saybrook still serve the same nasty food, only in shinier chafing dishes. The menu at Commons is painfully unattractive. So why leave home?

Since Yale does not have a student center, a place where all kinds of students could gather without having to be silent or purchase coffee to avoid being kicked out, dining halls are the primary social venues. Compare this to how the weakness of our fraternity scene results in the social prominence of a cappella groups. Neither is a perfectly open system with free beer for all; people are confined to some extent by their associations. And the Administration, as it repeats ad nauseam the silly platitude that college common rooms take the place of a student center, seems uninterested in creating common social spaces and events: dining halls can restrict transfers, common areas in colleges can be locked, fraternities can be poor, and a cappella groups can do whatever the hell they want.

Yale has no problem with exclusiveness. Or it has a big exclusiveness problem, depending on which way you look at it. Think of all the identity-based groups, among which residential colleges may be counted, and all the other groups based on acceptance (as opposed to interest). Not only are members sequestered from the general population, but they also often indulge in competition with other groups to emphasize their separation. And it's fun when my college steals your college's flag and pours ketchup on it, but it's not so great when I can't talk to Branford seniors at a pub crawl because I've "hated" them for longer than I've known them.

Keep the residential college system—its benefits heavily outweigh its downsides. But let the Administration do more to bring classmates together on a larger level. One class dinner in Commons per year doesn't create much of a bond, and it's hard to spontaneously generate a bond with strangers when you're already a senior. That is supposed to be the purpose of senior class events, but personally, I tend to view them as nothing more than opportunities to get drinks with my JE friends.

Back to Opinion...