I always thought that living in the dorms would be a lot like living in one of the houses from a Harry Potter book. Given the option I would choose to live in Slytherin. I think Voldemort is not evil, just misunderstood. I know I would be upset too if I heard people referring to me as “You-Know-Who” or “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” Can you imagine what that would to someone’s psyche? Here comes Tom Riddle (I assume he gave himself the awesome nickname Voldemort after some young wizard teased him about being a half-blooded wizard) walking around the grounds of Hogwarts and everyone screams and scatters. I would tend to get a little angry and hurt by these actions, too. Voldemort just wants to fit in. Oh, and people are all upset about Voldemort wanting to kill Harry Potter. Don’t they realize that Voldemort doesn’t have a choice? It’s a prophecy for crying out loud, and last time I checked a prophecy cannot be changed. But anyway, where was I? Oh, yes; dorm life. I have never moved into a dorm, and the full collegiate experience is nothing without dorm living.

I recently helped someone move into a dorm. The dorm rooms did remind me a little bit of Harry Potter in the sense that they were slightly smaller than the cupboard under the stairs where Harry spent most of his childhood. I risked life and limb to navigate across a sea of freaked-out freshmen, mournful mothers, and frustrated fathers, just so I could help a stranger move into a dorm.

When I got to campus I saw a group of people huddled around a microwave, a futon, and a couple of boxes. The telltale signs were there: this is a student ready to move-in. I went over and explained who I was and what I was doing. The student, sophomore Barry Davis, also introduced himself and eagerly accepted my help (if I were in that situation, I probably would have said, “I don’t know you. I need an adult!”). Together, with Barry’s family, we moved him into a room on the second floor of Young Hall. We got all of Barry’s belongings up in two trips (I think that is an SDSU record). As we were moving in, Barry’s dad explained that this year’s move-in went better than last year’s. Ordinarily, I would have just said “Ok” and left it at that, but the writer’s instinct told me to probe a little deeper. So I asked Mr. Davis what he meant. Mr. Davis told me that last year, as a freshman, Barry brought a lot more items to school and he lived on the fourth floor. I am glad all I had to do was help move a couple of things to the second floor.

I couldn’t live in a dorm room for a couple of reasons. For starters, they’re small. And I don’t mean small as in cozy. I mean small as in I have seen mausoleums with more square footage than dorm rooms. Also, I couldn’t get out of my lease, and if I did get out of my lease, I don’t think my wife would be too happy about us moving into a room on a floor with a bunch of guys.

I do want to thank Barry Davis for allowing me to help him move into a dorm. I am proud to be counted as one of the multitudes who call Barry Davis a friend. It’s true; he accepted my request on Facebook.

Tony Reiss is a non-traditional student majoring in economics. Contact Tony at anthony.reiss@jacks.sdstate.edu.