The relentless desert sun is setting on a long UA tradition: Next fall, Cochise Residence Hall will welcome female residents into its rooms for the first time in over 55 years. Living in close quarters with women has rarely been a source of male protest, and no one seems to be mourning over the change - except, perhaps, air freshener companies.
Still, Residence Life was wise to note that Cochise would be losing its old sense of identity in the transition - and wiser still to replace it with a new identity sorely needed: a supportive living space for undeclared students.
Why hasn't anyone thought of this before? Many of the halls have themed wings that cater to certain majors, such as engineering and fine arts. This year, engineering accounts for 2,708 undergraduates, fine arts for 2,160. It makes sense, then, that the university would provide them with the option of an environment that helps them make mutually beneficial connections early and outside of class.
The University College, on the other hand, houses all undeclared undergraduates. With an enrollment of 3,787 students, it boasts 13 percent of the total undergraduate enrollment and is the third-largest college. And yet, Residence Life is only now taking measures to address this formidable population.
Providing undeclared freshmen extra support in their search for degrees should have been a priority much sooner. If no one's noticed lately, the university has quite a problem on its hands: the freshman retention rate.
September 1998 brought to a close a student retention study that began in 1981. It found the first-year freshman retention rate at 77 percent - and the overall six-year graduation rate at an alarming 52 percent. So half of all students who will never graduate leave before their sophomore year.
Not only is this statistic an eyesore when national college rankings come along, but it also should serve as a humbling warning that, somehow, we are failing.
Residence Life is a great place to start looking: Living in dorms has been shown in multiple studies to positively impact freshman retention, which was one of the justifications for the smart decision to limit spaces to freshmen and sophomores in 2002.
Why do the dorms make such a difference? The key word in all of this is "identity." The halls are a place to meet people, to establish common interests, to find support for academic and professional goals and to simply get used to living away from home. On a campus where it doesn't require much imagination to feel like a Student Identification Number, it's sometimes nice to know that when you turn off the light each night, you've at least got a roommate nearby. If you multiply that by an entire hallway filled with people of the same academic interest or ethnic background, the emotional benefits soon become clear.
Residence Life has picked up on this in recent years with the establishment of the O'odham Ki Wing for Native American students in the Graham-Greenlee Residence Hall and the Transfer Student Community Wing at the Babcock Inn Residence Hall. Both are strategic in the retention battle. Transfer students need all the help they can get making social connections after stepping in late, and Native Americans had the lowest retention rate of any group in the 1998 study, with only 61 percent of its freshmen returning for their sophomore years - and only 20 percent graduating within six years.
The university eyes its diversity statistics with pride, and President Peter Likins is looking to expand minority enrollment. But if we draw on minorities to get a diversity badge on our chest and then leave them high and dry, we've made a terrible mistake ... and we're paying the price with every freshman lost in the shuffle.
Clearly, we must make an effort to find out who makes up our diverse freshman classes. Who's being served? Who's being overlooked?
Tragically, an international student committed suicide in his residence hall earlier this semester. Obviously, even the most competent and caring of living environments cannot be responsible for the psychological and emotional wellbeing of all its inhabitants, and we cannot know what factors played a role.
Still, it would be worthwhile to use this as an opportunity to ask if international students are generally finding the support and sense of identity they need in their halls. There are many multicultural organizations on campus that lend community, but there are no wings set aside specifically for international students.
Might there be a demand for this? Has anyone ever asked them? Surely there must be someone somewhere whose sole job is to be on top of these things.
Interestingly, one of the prescriptive recommendations of the 1998 retention survey was that all freshmen be required to live on campus. Many universities across the country already operate by this principle, and it's something worth looking into.
As Cochise finally gives the female and undeclared students a place to call their own, it's the university's responsibility to find out who's still left out in the cold ... and to invite them in.
Sabrina Noble is a senior majoring in English and creative writing. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.