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The smallest place I have ever called "home" was a dorm room. Actually, I had several of them during my four years of college; I lived in the dorm from September to May, every year of that four years. And most of the time, I shared a room with another female college student. We even had to go down the hall for showers/baths and to use the bathroom! But those rooms were definitely HOME to me!

As the first female in my family to decide to go to college, and as the next-to-youngest child, I was not quite prepared for dorm life. I had lived at home with my family, and was suddenly in a three-story dormitory that housed over 150 females, and I was on the third story! However, it was home to me, and I felt that way as soon as my brother and his wife, who drove me there, drove onto the property! They helped me unload my things and get them upstairs, and then they had to leave; it was a two-hour drive back to their house, and it was already getting late.

My roommate didn't show up until the next day, but I got my first real taste of dorm life that night about nine o'clock. As soon as the dorm closed at nine, the upper-classmen in the dorm called all the freshmen into the hall on my floor, where we learned that we were their slaves and were to do whatever they said. Some of the girls didn't like it, but I loved it! We had to do some silly things, but they were all designed to shape us into a cohesive group and a part of the larger group of women students. In less than a week, we had learned the school song and many of the cheers we were expected to shout on command. As a part of our hazing experience, we were "ordered" to attend every home football game and yell for our team. The only game I missed that year was one that I was too sick to attend.

I enjoyed the entire experience of being a freshman so much that I was told, continuously, to "wipe that smile off your face and bury it", but I never could manage to keep it off! I'd wipe it off, but while I was "digging its grave", I would be smiling again! They finally gave up on me ever getting the smile off my face, and accepted me as someone they wanted to have around them. We did a lot of other silly stuff, but I loved the entire experience, unlike many of the other students.

During that year, I actually had two different rooms and roommates. My first roommate decided to move back home, and a new friend's roommate had moved out of their room, so I moved in with her. One of the upperclassmen wanted my room, anyway, since it was a corner room and at the end of the hall. It was also just a tad bigger than the other rooms.

The next three years, I lived in the other women's dorm that was there when I started. Most of those years, I also shared a room. The women I roomed with all became good friends of mine, but I have lost touch with them in the last few years. Spending time studying together, washing clothes together, sharing a community bathroom and showers, as well as one hall phone on each floor, everyone gets to know everyone else. And some people you remember for years; others you can't remember the next year when you meet them on campus!

But those dorms rooms, even though they only had a twin bed for each side of the room, a closet on each side of the door, and a bureau for each person, were truly HOME for those years!

As a matter of fact, the first year I was in college, I made my mother mad at Christmas. I was wandering around the house one day, in a funk, and she asked me what the matter was. I told her I was ready to go home. She almost jumped down my throat, telling me that I was AT HOME, and was NEVER to say something like that again. I never did, but it didn't change the way I felt about my dorm room! IT was HOME!

Learn more about this author, Barbara A. Black.
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