Even under the best of
circumstances, living in a Residence Hall is a difficult undertaking. The
Residence Hall: a unique environment where nearly everyone is in young
adulthood (except for a few student-affairs professionals, and staff who live
on campus), devoid of children, middle-aged adults and the elderly, and with
the exception of small fish, any animals. Yet new students enthusiastically
embrace this artificial reality because their goal is simple. They want to
escape parents, family members and any kind of adult supervision in their quest
for independence and adulthood.
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| Students celebrating the first day of classes on September 1 as part of a parade in Klaipeda, LT. |
For those who have already
experienced university life are painfully aware that, without the right support
systems, Residence Hall living can be a recipe for disaster. Why? Because
people who are in youthful stages of their emotional, mental and social
development often behave in ways that are not socially responsible, civil or
respectful—of themselves or others. To envision how easily civilization can
turn into chaos when the young are left to their own devices, one only has to
remember the boys who devolved into savagery in William Golding’s classic novel
Lord of the Flies.
Every year our university’s
Residence Halls open their doors to hundreds of new students who will occupy
shared-living settings with a population density more concentrated than most
urban residential buildings. With the exception of a few encounters at
orientation or Facebook exchanges, most of these students don’t know
each-other. Nor have most of them ever lived away from their families, except
for perhaps a customary summer camp excursion. More and more students are entering
university have never shared a bedroom with a sibling, and in some instances
have never even shared a bathroom. Outside of directed social group activities
or participation on a sports team, most have not had to live or work
cooperatively with members of their peer group.
Some students have problems
with alcohol and drug use. Others are boisterous, noisy, messy or rude. Some
struggle with personal relationships, mental health issues, or hold racial and
religious biases that interfere with their ability to connect with others.
Others come with even more serious problems, such as a history of stealing or
violence that is not disclosed which eventually manifests itself in the close
quarters of residential living.
In some ways, residential
hall living and the students who occupy these spaces are just a microcosm of
the larger world, but with the inherent behaviors and characteristics of youth.
Soon after their arrival on campus, new students face the demands and stresses
of their academic programs—classes, assignments, exams, and papers—and tensions
and conflicts with their roommates and friends. These are the circumstances
that, every year, frame the fundamental challenge faced by the residential life
staff at universities—how to build healthy communities quickly and effectively
so that students can live together productively and harmoniously.
I wish I had a “magic potion”
that when dispensed, would enable students in the
residence halls to, at a minimum, allow students to get along with each-other.
Since this isn’t Hogwarts and no such tincture exists, we must settle for the
theoretical model known as “community standards.”
The community standards allow
students to utilize a mutually agreed-upon expectation that define how their
community will engage and function on an interpersonal level. The model relies
on a dialogue to create and maintain standard because peer-to-peer interaction,
according to Astin in “What matters in
College,” has been found to be the single most potent source of influence on
growth and development during the undergraduate years; and the simple act of
sharing feeling scan influence and change peer perspectives and behaviors.
With the use of community
standards, theoretically, staff members are no longer expected to control but
rather guide the community towards individual and group responsibility and
accountability.
What sounds great in theory
is difficult to implement in practice. On Monday, September 29 I had the
pleasure of serving as a guest Lecturer in the Conflict Transformation Models and Practice (CST 310) course here
at LCC International University where I shared about the discipline process at our school. We discussed the historical context for LCC’s
shift from a judicial approach to discipline, to one of Restorative Justice. I
introduced the E.P.I.C. Journey approach to student conduct, compare and contrasted
inactive vs. active restoration process, discussed our integration and defined
the new mentoring program.
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| Explaining the practical application of Restorative Justice on LCC's Campus to the students of the Conflict Transformation Models and Practice (CST 310) class. |
The last year of research,
reflection and networking brought us to the point of change at the beginning of
this school year. The previous model used fines and implemented tasks, often
unrelated to the violation, to ‘right’ the broken rule. This not only didn’t
teach the students anything about themselves or the reason for our standard,
but it separated the ‘haves’ (those who could afford such fines) from the
have-nots’ (less-fortunate students who would in turn go hungry because they
had made a mistake and broken the rules).
I pray that in this school
year, we can reach towards what Zehr described in The Little Book of Restorative Justice: “Restorative justice is a
process to involve, to the extent possible, those who have a stake in a
specific offense and to collectively identify and address harms, needs, and
obligations, in order to heal and put things right as possible” (Zehr, 37). Let us heal and put things as right as
possible.