With every break, I find myself dreading the same two questions that every college kid in America knows all too well. One is the time-honored classic, “How is college going?” followed by the even more novel and cutting-edge, “Where do you live?” Now, I am incredibly grateful to attend Vanderbilt, all the more so for those genuinely interested in hearing me talk. Still, I would be lying if I said that I have not had the same word vomit of a response perfected since I was a first-year: Yes, it is costly to attend Vanderbilt. No, my dorm isn’t that nice, and, honestly, it’s quite old. Well, Vanderbilt forces you to live on campus. Why would they do that? Because they want our money.
Although this was not my smartest moment, I never bothered to look up Vanderbilt’s housing policy prior to committing. In retrospect, I never really bothered to look up any of its policies once Google informed me it was one of the “top colleges in America” — I immediately started my application. I was aware that, like most universities, I would have to live on campus my first year. I was more than happy to abide by that rule. I recognize and concede that being forced to live with your peers your first year — although I could have done without the cramped Gillette dorm room — pretty much guarantees that you’ll find some source of connection and support for the next four years. However, I would be lying if I said I was not in absolute shock and looking at transfer schools when it was revealed to me that Vanderbilt requires students to live on campus all four years.
Three years later, in the trenches of my junior year, I have found — as you have probably already inferred from this article — my feelings about Vanderbilt student housing to be stronger than ever. Ultimately, it all boils down to one question: Why not allow students the choice?
Vanderbilt leaves little ambiguity concerning its student housing policy — I will spare you the time of having to read it off of the housing portal. To put it simply, the only real possibility students have of getting approved for off-campus housing is if they are a senior, if Vanderbilt tears down yet another residence hall or if they are willing to get married at the chance for their own bathroom. Now, I say it’s only a possibility because, even if these events were to transpire, it is not guaranteed that — after years of dealing with broken washing machines and communal showers — a student would have earned the right to live outside of the Vanderbilt bubble. I find this rule baffling.
As stated in its student housing portal, Vanderbilt argues that “living on campus can lead to academic and social success and helps students develop a strong sense of community and class identity.” As previously mentioned, I completely agree that on-campus living is critical for a first-year’s experience. Not only does it ensure a tight-knit community with your peers, but it also eases the transition to college life and adds the convenience of being near your classes, library and other campus resources, facilitating students’ ability to succeed. That being said, I do not believe this experience is transmittable to the rest of a student’s undergraduate experience. At times, it is incredibly limiting.
I believe this trend to be widely understood and in need of no mention — Vanderbilt students are generally highly well-rounded individuals. Most of us have high aspirations — with that, there are pressures to do it all: join every club, go out every weekend, have perfect grades and seek the best internships or job offers. Eliana Reyes, a third year neuroscience student, embodies these traits. Running us through her typical day as a Vanderbilt student, she states, “I have a 6:30 AM pilates class, followed by responding to work emails and running errands. After that, I attend two classes, tackle hours worth of schoolwork and run participants in the lab. My evening wraps up with a three-hour instructor training session at the studio.” Her situation, although challenging, is not unique. Many Vanderbilt students share a similar experience. Although this element is part of what makes Vanderbilt such a top-tier school, it can also be suffocating at times. For everything Vanderbilt does to prepare us for post-college life, the housing policy holds us back the most.
Being a “Vanderbilt student” 24/7 is draining. Having to see the same high-achieving individuals from class — who seem to be doing more than you — in the dining hall, in the library, at the tailgates and while brushing your teeth does nothing to alleviate overachieving pressures. The supposed sanctuary — four walls of a dorm room — offers no consolation when there is consistently a desk full of work, an endless stream of noise flowing from the hallway and a friend barging in through the door. Furthermore, it creates a false idea of what it is like to live independently, limiting our ability to grow outside of school. Practicing and developing lifelong skills such as budgeting and managing household responsibilities is essential in preparing us for the demands of post-college life and necessary for a smoother transition into adulthood. Sure, you might be Wall Street-ready by the end of your four years, but that won’t mean much if you are unable to wash a dish.
I would like to contend here that I would not have as big of a problem with Vanderbilt housing if its housing reflected the amount of money students give to the school. Vanderbilt students pay over $7,000 a semester for on-campus housing, plus another $4,000 for the dining plan, which is required and automatically applied to any person on campus. Paying $12,000 a semester just to live on campus, it is expected that a prestigious institution such as Vanderbilt — which received almost 10 billion dollars in endowment last year — could offer higher-quality living conditions. Students often report outdated facilities, constant maintenance issues and limited access to amenities such as common rooms and bathrooms because of quality and size. Not only does this problem create an impression that students’ needs are not a priority but it also fosters general concerns about whether students’ funds are being allocated in a manner that stands to benefit their Vanderbilt experience.
It is further unclear why students are expected to pay the same amount for housing regardless of the significant quality differences. By no stretch does a Branscomb double compare to a brand-new Carmichael suite. Until Vanderbilt can adjust pricing to reflect the actual value of its living arrangements, students should be given a choice to find housing outside of campus that they believe better reflects the price they are willing to pay.
On October 31st, Vanderbilt announced its plan to build four new residential colleges within their central neighborhood. This construction includes the demolition of Branscomb Quadrangle and McTyeire Hall, following the now-complete transformation of the West End neighborhood. Beyond the fact that this news has made it harder for me to complain about the student housing policy, I do thoroughly applaud Vanderbilt for finally conceding to the many concerns and grievances raised against the housing conditions. The opening of Carmichael College earlier this year should serve as a model of the dedication and collaboration Vanderbilt is capable of instilling. Going so far as to throw in a European-inspired cafe, Vanderbilt has demonstrated their ability and willingness to create comfortable and sophisticated housing that blends modern elements while preserving Vanderbilt’s unique flair.
That said, much of the campus housing remains below par, with many dorms across campus being extremely outdated. During my first year alone, it became almost routine to receive a “good luck” following any mention of me living in the notorious Gillette dorm. Built in 1963 and supposedly remodeled in 2006, this Commons house’s living style is less than optimal, equipped with old furniture, showers that don’t drain, light fixtures in the bathroom that never work and grimy carpet in the hallway. These conditions are not limited to Gillette alone; many dorms across campus are not too far off.
Vanderbilt’s housing policy would be better understood if there was an extreme housing crisis in Nashville or if rent was so high that students could not afford to live off campus. In such a case, I would fully back Vanderbilt’s decision to guarantee safe and reasonably priced student housing by forcing students to reside on campus. Fortunately for Nashvillians, this is not the case, as every time I step foot on Broadway, I see a new crane popping up and a new apartment building being built. As one of the largest growing cities in America, Nashville will never be in a better place to accommodate the number of students that would most likely reside off campus. After all, Vanderbilt is a small school. I do not believe a couple thousand kids living off campus will throw off the housing market. The recent announcement of the additional residences leads me to believe that Vanderbilt is of the same opinion. With hundreds of juniors forced to reside off campus next year, it is curious to see how Vanderbilt will navigate this change.
There is no denying that Nashville is a costly city; my dad has more than once sent me a picture of my monthly statements from Uber alone. However, there do exist many options for off-campus housing at or below the price students currently pay for a semester to live on campus. A junior 2-bedroom apartment at the Aertson, for example, comes out to less than $7,000 per person a semester and provides considerably nicer amenities while being conveniently located right next to campus. Of course, like any city, prices will vary. The key is to do plenty of research to find a living space that aligns with your needs and budget. It’s also important to mention that Vanderbilt allows students on financial aid to live off campus with no changes to their financial aid budget — meaning that a student would receive more than $18,000 to find accommodations and pay for food per academic year. A policy of living off campus, therefore, is advantageous not only to students with greater financial means but to students across various socioeconomic backgrounds.
Ultimately, my aim is not to cast a negative light on Vanderbilt student housing or claim that students should not have a desire to reside on campus. I simply believe that students have a right to decide where they would like to live. We are adults facing some of the most defining steps of our lives. We all work incredibly hard, sometimes just to get through the day, knowing that every setback we face and difficulty we encounter is an essential step towards our future. Having a comfortable and secure space to turn to during these moments is essential in keeping peace of mind. Unfortunately, the significant amount of money that we pay to attend this institution has not been sufficient to incentivize Vanderbilt to ensure equal housing across its student body. Although Vanderbilt argues that its student housing policy ensures academic and social success, it fails to account for the fact that the students, not the policies, ensure this success. Ultimately, Vanderbilt will continue to be a tight-knit community of academically and socially driven students regardless of where students happen to sleep at night.
