Animal House

As one of many the freshmen who eagerly awaited Housing Day, I was slightly overwhelmed by the impassioned spirit that each House displayed. Upon seeing the Mather gorilla ascend the stage without hesitation during my Ec 10 lecture, I began to question the extent to which House spirit influences the student body, and what purpose it could really serve. Rallying House spirit is a fine way to build general excitement for Housing Day. However, pre-Housing Day rabidity hurts the possibility of a freshman being happy with their Housing assignment. Therefore, instead of expending energy on the days leading up to Housing Day, Houses should simply reserve their spirit for the day itself.

The videos, dancing mascots, matching t-shirts, and general paraphernalia in which House members bedeck themselves are wonderful ways to promote solidarity within the Houses. They give newly sorted freshmen a reason to take pride in their homes for the following three years, and they cultivate an individual personality for each of the 12 Houses, giving freshmen a unique House-wide culture to which to look forward.

But the best way to galvanize future House residents is to express House pride during and after Housing Day—not before. As a way of promoting Housing Day itself, active House spirit works well. Yet as a plug for the individual Houses, it unnecessarily builds freshmen hopes about a situation they cannot control. Since many are randomly slotted into Eliot or Cabot, which lie at opposite ends of FlyByBlog’s rankings as well as opposite ends of campus, ranking Houses based on their projected personalities can set up unfair expectations and, worse, can ultimately disappoint.

Therefore, until Housing Day, getting students to favor certain Houses over others serves no purpose as, in the end, they will be forced to accept and make do with whichever House they are assigned. Once freshmen know where they will live for the rest of their college careers, however, House unity can begin to make a difference in how they view their assignments. Often, students seem to be happiest in the Houses where they least expected to be, but no matter how many times proctors and peer advising fellows repeat this statement, their efforts are undermined by the House one-upmanship that goes on over e-mail lists.

Granted, House spirit mongering is largely harmless, serving largely to add to existing reputations. For example, before I stepped inside Adams House for the first time, enough upperclassmen had either raved or warned me about its supposed “artsiness” that I thought I had an idea of what to expect from the residents. Students’ perceptions of each House are fairly set based on what they hear from sophomore, juniors, and seniors; existing promotional videos or performances only add to a House’s standing as “crazy,” “artsy,” or “elitist.” As long as Houses keep negative impressions from creeping in, some of these preconceived notions, however stereotypical, serve well in bolstering House pride and celebrating tradition.

As underscored by countless administrators in their attempt to reassure nervous freshmen, the housing lottery is indeed random. House spirit may make students want some Houses over others, setting up expectations while knowing full well that they may not be fulfilled. Nothing can be done about the assignments, however hard we may pray to the river gods. Call me a river atheist; I got Pfoho. But who’s complaining?

Vidya Rajan ’13, a Crimson editorial comper, lives in Weld Hall.