Everything looks the same in the snow, and since coming back to the U.S. from winter break, I think I’ve become a little stir-crazy. Every snowy, snowy morning, I traipse from Anderson Tower at 7:30 a.m. to Douglass and get the same thing every time and crash out when they change the cereal provision or when there’s no Breakfast in the Finger Lakes for my multiple morning coffees. While making cereal in Douglass is not much different from making cereal at home, my lunch and dinner used to take considerably more effort and time than just waiting in the queues at Danforth.
Having all my meals cooked and ready to eat has spoiled me. At my home university, and at most universities in the U.K., we have to cook for ourselves because we have access to kitchens that are more than tiny boxes with tiny ovens and stovetops. Yes, there are campus restaurants, but universities in general do not serve food for their student population at large, unless you are in catered accommodation, which is rare. Because of this, students in Europe either order food in (by far the minority, as takeaways are expensive), or learn basic cooking skills.
Cooking became one of my hobbies; my love for it really flourished when I was no longer living at home and so had to cook for myself in order to eat healthily and feed my participation in several sports. I had cookbooks aimed specifically at students, meaning recipes were cheap and easy to follow. The need to cook for myself served two functions that catered American universities are taking from their students. The first is that I now have a life skill that is useful not only when I go home during holidays, but will last all the way into adult and family life down the line. The second factor, arguably just as important, is that it gave me a confidence boost and improved my self-efficacy. If I can feed myself without giving myself food poisoning and get to the point of cooking complicated dishes that can take up to three hours to make (with a decent bit of yapping to my housemates between steps), then surely I can survive whatever academic challenge is thrown at me.
Because there is no necessity to cook, many American students don’t learn to juggle academic life, hobbies, daily chores, and cooking, leaving them with a nasty shock when they graduate and find a job. The concept of being forced to buy a meal plan also removes agency from students who must pay for catering services even if they were intending to cook entirely for themselves (as many commuting students do).
A lot of my upperclassman friends at URochester live off-campus, but it is university policy that first- and second-years must live on campus. This is, again, very different from home. Only first-years live in university accommodation, for the most part, which is usually on campus. Almost without exception, second- and third-years (an undergraduate degree is only three years at home) live in housing owned by independent landlords. Because of this, we have to contend with public transport and factor in longer travel times, which is exacerbated if you are also on a sports team and need to get to practice. In conjunction with cooking for oneself, the university experience in the U.K. in terms of housing sets students up to be far more independent from a younger age and learn how to navigate the world around them without the helping hand, or condescending eyes, of a Resident Advisor (RA). I have an RA on my floor and I’m 21 years old; she’s younger than me! While I do appreciate that an RA is there to help as much as they are to keep an eye on people, especially for first-years, it feels like the university experience in the U.S. is set up to coddle students and monitor them in a way that European universities do not. This also contributes to a secretive alcohol culture. Yes, the drinking age in the U.S. is 21, underage drinking is illegal and is against URochester policy, but by policing halls and accommodation, especially in halls with those that aren’t first-years, students are infantilized. People are going to drink either way, but by making it necessary to hide it, people are less likely to call a Medical Emergency Response Team (MERT) or ask for help if they need it.
The first year of university is hard, especially the first semester. I do see the benefit of having someone in your hall that you can go to with issues, and I do see the benefit of having all your meals cooked for you. It saves time so that you can focus on academics, sports, and other extracurriculars. However, the valuable skills gained by having to cook for yourself are worth the extra stress. Students at European universities become adults earlier, and have more time to become world-ready — life skills ought to be as much a part of education as academic ones.
