Throughout the summer before my freshman year, my heart would flutter with excitement over every new email notification in my Michigan inbox. Each time, I’d nervously click on the message hoping it would provide the answer to one salient question: where would I be living? Even during a family vacation in France with limited wifi, I refreshed my email at every opportunity, hoping to receive that one message with the long-awaited subject: “Your 2016-1017 Housing Contract.” In late July, the answer finally came: Bursley Hall. To say I was upset with this dorm placement would be an understatement.
Like many incoming freshmen from out of state, I had met my roommate on Facebook and had been periodically texting her throughout the summer, mostly with room decor suggestions, get-to-know-you questions, and compliments on her cute Instagram posts. She was born and raised in Michigan and already had many friends at the university, making her my primary advisor and source of knowledge about the large community into which I was about to plunge. When her reaction to our North residence was the single word “shit,” I knew our situation was less than ideal.
My excitement for college should have been increasing as my move-in date approached, but because of my living assignment, the nerves and dread were stronger. In late August I babysat for a young family in my neighborhood, and as I was leaving I found out the dad was a Michigan alumn. Before anything else, he said with a smirk, “Just make sure you’re not living on North Campus.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. I went home that day and googled “Bursley Hall,” only to find more negative adjectives: isolated, lonely, last pick. It seemed everyone at U of M had this mutual understanding that freshmen placed on North Campus were helpless victims of bad luck.
Despite desperate attempts to refute our assignment and negotiate our way into a different dorm, my roommate and I reluctantly accepted that we would just have to deal with Bursley. Neither of us expected the dramatic change in outlook we would experience six months later. Fast forward to February, and I am a fiercely proud and happy resident of the “Dirty Burs.” Living in any dorm is something that I never expected would be so much fun, and I can honestly say that the bond we share from living on North Campus makes it even better.
Recently, I came across one girl’s “finsta” post about her first time visiting North Campus. Her caption read, “Just gotta say sorry to people who have to live in the dirty burs like ur dorms are trash and ur like a 15 minute bus ride. Talk about getting screwed over by the number one public university in the country.” I don’t mean to single out this one post; there are many like it, and the pity expressed towards North Campus freshmen is not unique to this one girl’s caption. So I’d like to respond to the sentiment as a whole. First off, my dorm is not trash. My room on the fifth floor has a huge window overlooking a gorgeous courtyard, I eat in a renovated dining hall (the chocolate fondue last night was unreal), I work out in a gym located literally across the street, and as far as I’m concerned, the “dirty burs” is just as clean as any other dorm (no cockroaches here). And that fifteen minute bus ride? Yes, we do have to plan ahead to get to class in the morning, but I have met some of my best friends on that bus. It’s also a great time to read the Skimm or listen to some new music before starting a busy day. I can’t emphasize enough the power of an optimistic mindset– it’s all about attitude.
While I have addressed some of the physical and logistical features that certainly make Bursley bearable, it is the people who have made me most appreciative of my experience. I can already guarantee that some of the most memorable moments from my entire college life will be times spent in the dorm. At some point between sliding down the back stairs on our mattresses, taping paper bags to our doors and dropping candy in them on Valentine’s day, giving our guy friends face masks on Thursday nights, stealing raw cookie dough from the dining hall, and blasting music in the bathroom for shower parties long after “quiet hours,” my Bursley friends became my family.
I understand that dorm life can be inconvenient; hiking up five flights of stairs is a pain, the food is not restaurant quality, and someone always seems to have the flu. My roommate and I even considered moving into a swanky apartment our second semester. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by the sparkly four-bedroom apartment with a full kitchen and private bathroom. As we were leaving our tour of Landmark, however, I remember receiving a text in my 30-person North Campus group chat. One of my neighbors had gotten sick, and desperately needed ginger-ale. Swooping into mom-mode, I was able to pick one up from 7-Eleven and get it back to her within 20 minutes. In that moment, I realized the power of having a community – a group of people constantly looking out for each other, helping each other out, and lifting each other up. I would not have that community if I were living in a large apartment complex. Living as a first-year student in a dorm is an irreplaceable experience, and I am so glad I didn’t wish it away by spending the second half of it somewhere else.
To any future freshmen who are placed in a dorm on North Campus, don’t fret; if you treat it with the right attitude, you’ll soon realize that what may seem like isolation is actually the recipe for a special community that you will be lucky to be a part of. For me, there is no better feeling than getting on the Burley-Baits bus at the end of a long day and arriving back to my Burs fam. What was once the last choice on my housing application is now my favorite place on campus – it’s my home.
Images courtesy of: Meryl Rueppel, Giphy, and University of Michigan