Loyola Hall, the first of Fairfield University's residence halls. It is widely considered the worst of the buildings.
Loyola Hall: infamous for its lack of air conditioning and partially unrenovated bathrooms. Located in the Quad closest to the traffic circle and just a short walk from the Tully (and the food trucks), Loyola’s prime location on campus seems ideal at first glance. It is when you enter the building, however, that things quickly go south.
Over the summer, I eagerly awaited the posting of my housing and roommate assignments, which ended up coming absurdly late. When I got my roommate, we were caught up in a whirlwind of first-year preparation: what kind of wall decorations we wanted, whether all of our Amazon furniture orders would come on time and how the hell we were supposed to survive the treacherous conditions of Loyola Hall.
Of course, this sounds very dramatic, as we all know how lucky we are to be attending an institution like Fairfield, but we were left to wonder, “why us?” in response to our residence hall assignment.
Move-in day was so exhilarating that I almost didn’t realize how overheated the building was becoming, with rooms overpacked with blue Ikea bags and parents who didn’t want to leave their kids behind. I think my mom’s exact words were, “No, it’s nice!” upon arrival, which, if you couldn’t pick up on the sarcasm, actually meant: “You’re f—ed.”
When things settled down, my roommate and I began to assess our new living situation, and to our dismay, it was just as run-down as we had heard. I visited other friends’ residence halls with a look of absolute disdain as I mentally compared their pearly white bathroom tiles, kitchens, massive lounges and best of all, air conditioning, to the lack thereof in Loyola.
Even in the newer bathrooms in Loyola, the curtains are half the size of the entrance, leaving you feeling utterly exposed when trying to shower. There’s nothing worse than looking past the shower curtain and seeing someone staring at you from the sink as you try to wash your hair with the little dignity you now have left. The unrenovated bathrooms are like a time capsule, sending you immediately back to the last time the bathroom actually was renovated, which could honestly have been in 1955 when the building was originally built (although it does give off an ’80s type vibe, too).
Attempting to sleep in the early weeks of school when the summer heat persisted was an intense struggle. The fans spin on in each and every room as students yearn for the slightest breeze that may save them from passing away from heat stroke. Even on the brisker days when I wake up surprisingly chilly, I return from my morning classes, walk into the room and somehow, I immediately need to change into a T-shirt. “Maybe Loyola Hall just heats itself,” I think to myself, as with my window wide open on a forty-five degree night, I am forced to sleep above the covers.
To add on to my list of grievances, there is also no kitchen in the entire building. This may not seem like a massive deal, but sometimes a microwaved cup of mac and cheese made in your room just doesn’t cut it.
However, with the falling of the leaves and cool air of autumn moving in, Loyola residents have begun to realize the ultimate value of our struggle together these past few weeks. As we walk down the hall, it’s difficult not to see a friendly face or open door, both willing to welcome you into a conversation. The hallways are always active and music is constantly playing in the bathroom as people try to fill the monotony of the running water with karaoke and aggressive humming. I have actually heard a lot of people say that they were jealous of the social bustle of Loyola and I am forced to agree that there is truly never a dull moment here.
In response to the simple question, “What are your thoughts on Loyola?” first-year Gregory Boyle, a fellow Loyola-dweller, stated, “If I can survive a semester with no AC, I can survive anything,” quickly followed by a more wholesome take, “Loyola is where strangers became friends and college started to feel like home” (Gregory Boyle, Class of 2029).
Regular dinners at the Tully are now called family dinners as we all learn to make Fairfield our second home for the next few years.
So, although Loyola from an outside perspective is arguably the “worst first-year residence hall,” it’s difficult to ignore the bonds that many of us have built despite the severe heat and sickeningly pink and green bathroom tiles.