Dorms are our home away from home
I find it intriguing how people view their dorms. Since the start of the semester, I have had countless conversations with people about the dorms we live in. I always call my dorm ‘home,’ while almost everyone else calls theirs ‘dorm.’ I particularly recall a conversation I had with my friend Jimmy. He seemed surprised, even confused, about my nomenclature. He asked, “Home? Do you find that same sense of belonging in your dorm?”
Jimmy seemed to imply more through the name. To me, this conversation points to a clear distinction between home and dorm. And I presume most people would agree with him. My roommate calls his place in New York ‘home,’ while he calls the little room he lives on campus ‘dorm.’ But I couldn’t make sense of this distinction. The fundamental difference perhaps lies in our individual definitions of home.
The first factor that came to my mind for assigning the term ‘home’ is my parents. If I live in the same place as my parents, I will call it home. The same applies to my other family members. But if I value the emotional bond between me and my family, wouldn’t that also apply to my good friends, my pet, or my partner? Say I live with my partner, away from our parents, wouldn’t we deem that home? Many college graduates with a job now live alone with a pet. And from many of the ‘deep room cleanup’ vlogs I have watched, nice rooms render a sense of belonging.
Stability, presumably, is another important factor. Indeed, people rent apartments to go to work, and constant job switches could make people feel ‘homeless.’ It is our natural inclination to expect things that are familiar to us. Thinking back at the start of the semester, I really feel homesick because I said goodbye to so many things that accompanied me for most of my life: my bookshelf, my bike, my desktop, my bed…
Stability feels like a myth. We make an intricate apparatus that fabricates a lie, and we call it ‘stability.’ We are obsessed with stability. One more thing with which we confuse ourselves is how we think stability determines the future. We fantasize that every tomorrow will be the same as today, and do what we can to make that the reality. How foolish to expect that!
Some of my experiences illustrate my point. When I was little, whenever I saw a movie depicting how children weep over their deceased parents, I found it really unconvincing. I thought to myself that is not true—my parents are still here; that day seems so far away…
But now I realized that it is not fiction nor fantasy. That is someone’s reality. And it’s an imminent reality that became clearer when my friend’s mother passed away, a tragedy that takes a lot of courage to face.
‘All good things come to an end.’ A good friend has his life to live; if he wishes to pursue his dreams, would you be a good friend to stop him and say, “No, you have to be by my side!”? Someday, you might have to bury your pet with your hands. You might have to throw away your favorite toy because it’s broken… Life is not stable; it’s filled with uncertainties.
Home is precisely the same, but not if you actively establish a relationship with it. A well-organized, clean room creates a sense of belonging. I clean my room at least once a week to set things right. I use posters, flowers, lights, clipboards, and photos to decorate my room. I play my favorite music and video games at home. While these activities seem superficial, I have no better way to ensure my tie to my home. A home, to me, is comfortable, clean, and creative.
Life is still filled with uncertainties. But I never wished to say that the things we do are meaningless. The littles things I do assure that I am actively establishing, affirming, and creating. So, I should conclude, my dorm is home.
~ Conrad Wen ’25
