There are so many pieces that make up the college experience. From my time as a campus tour guide, I’ve learned this in a very practical way. Parents want to hear about things like campus safety, academics, campus resources, and financial aid. Students want to hear about campus life, student organizations, signing up for classes, places to hang out, late-night food, Greek life, and more. Then there’s the one topic on my tours that makes both parents and students listen up, the one topic that’s the selling point for my university, arguably the most important piece of a healthy university: housing and residential life.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I was once like many others. I once threw around the D-word without a second thought. One of my favorite phrases had to do with rule enforcement, as in the criminal usage of hot plates or candles, “not in the dorms!” I saw university housing as a place to lay my head at night, a place with the dining hall on the first floor, and a place to run away from whenever my parents promised they’d cook for me on a weekend. For a long time, university housing was no more to me than the sum of its parts. I grew in my understanding of housing, though. And very soon into the process, I packed up my dorm and made the choice to move into a residence hall.

It’s a very slight change in language, but it means so much. At the beginning of my first semester as a freshman, I joined a hall government. Within that, I was introduced to an entirely new world of student affairs: putting on programs, promoting diversity and inclusion, and creating leadership opportunities for residents. All the while, as I was doing my civil duty as one who creates a culture of community, inclusion, and leadership, I found that a change in language, however small, can mean the difference between isolation and community.

A dormitory is defined as “a building containing a number of private or semiprivate rooms for residents, usually along with common bathroom facilities and recreation areas.” Now, I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t appear to me to paint the entire picture. Where’s the notion of student resources in this definition? Personal and professional development? How about community?

So I discovered, in my time in hall government, that the D-word is not enough to describe the dynamic, beautiful community in which we live. The D-word cannot contain all that we’ve experienced, all the makeup-smearing, teary-eyed, heart-to-heart late-night talks we’ve had, all the HGTV we’ve binge-watched, all the 2 a.m. pizza orders and study sessions and instant coffee we’ve consumed, and all the love we’ve shared. Because all of that is so much more than a building containing private or semiprivate rooms for residents. It is so much more than the sum of its parts. It’s the creation of a family, or a group of best friends, or a collection of experiences that we’ll have for the rest of our lives.

It’s not called a dorm; it’s called a residence hall. And switching from one mindset to the other will make all the difference. So pack up your things, check out of your dorm, and make the linguistic change to a residence hall. You won’t believe the difference it’ll make.