Conform to the Dorm: Shared Living as a Tool for Success

“I’m the ‘American-in-St Andrews’ starter pack,” I tell people. Whether an effort to remain self-aware or to separate myself from the frat boy epidemic, I’m not sure. Nevertheless, my horribly unoriginal introduction goes as follows: I study International Relations and Economics, I’m from Boston, and I live in McIntosh — a hall with a population primarily from the U.S. 

My hypothesis as to why McIntosh is so American is that the idea of having a roommate, sharing a bathroom, and eating in a dining hall is inherently American by nature. While it may seem as though American students opt in to the dorm-living style in an effort to remain rooted in familiar customs, I actually find that most of us choose the communal lifestyle for one outstanding reason: the fellowship that comes with dorm living. 

At the core of maintaining such a community lies the dining hall. While I don’t always make it to the 8:30am breakfast, having three times a day when I can join some friends for food is, simply put, nice. An expansive wooden table groaning under the weight of 50 kids prompts the opportunity to ask about each other’s plans, or perhaps make some together. Last week alone, I found myself knee-deep in sidequesting culture after just a few brief dinner conversations. I bedazzled my plant pot, I tried my hand (and failed dismally) at life drawing, and I got three friends to join me for a highland dancing class. I’m a big believer that spontaneous decisions lead to the best friendships.

Secondly, there’s that roommate-and-shared-bathroom thing. While, yes, I must admit that I occasionally envy my DRA friends — primarily the fact that they have showers with hairless drains and a designated space to call ‘theirs’ — I wouldn’t trade my roommate or shared bathroom for the world. For starters, the bathrooms are almost always empty and immaculately clean (aside from the aforementioned shower drains). And, on the roommate front, it’s as though I had a built-in friend upon arrival. My new favourite part of the day? Spilling nightly tea — both literal and figurative — with my roommate. I’m eager to see just how long we keep that ritual running, but nevertheless, it’s a reliable delight. 

The connections reach further than just within the dorm, though. I can confidently say that I recognise the majority of my fellow McIntosh residents’ smiling faces (names — not so much) after attending numerous dorm socials during Freshers’ Week. Even out on the deceivingly vast streets of St Andrews, I always find myself passing someone from McIntosh with whom I can sit and grab a quick coffee between lectures. 

Within the dorm, walking down the McHallway from the McLift to my McRoom, it’s nice to exchange a smile or brief moment of small talk with a friendly face, as well. I mean, Charlie — the Porter for McIntosh Hall — is the jolliest guy I know, always asking about your day and giving you that little midday pick-me-up everyone needs. Those small exchanges of humanity, however minuscule or irrelevant one might tell you they are, amount to something substantial: a feeling of belonging, perhaps even of home. Even for those who live an hour’s drive from St Andrews, the transition to university can be a massive challenge — let alone for those who come from Singapore, Australia, or Los Angeles. Having that feeling of home, whether it be for the sake of self-preservation or the occasional sensation of familiarity, is priceless. 

Plus, McIntosh has a resident dog, Marlowe. I’ll let that speak for itself.

So please, call us stereotypical, cast a raised eyebrow at the idea of a shared space, and say that we’re catered because we’re not responsible enough to cook every day (true). However, I chose this unglamorous, communal lifestyle for myself, and that’s a choice I’d take any day of the week. Especially if it comes with nightly tea.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons