What if one of the most important conversations in residential life isn’t about programming at all, but about the spaces students come home to every day?

Some of my favorite ideas for Beyond the Bell don’t come from sitting behind a laptop.

They come from conversations with people who make me think differently.

This one started with John Christiansen, Assistant Head of School at Kents Hill School.

One of the things I enjoy most about this profession is finding leaders whose experience challenges my own thinking. John has quickly become one of those people. He has a rare ability to take what seems like an ordinary observation and turn it into a question that lingers for days afterward.

Our conversation began with something surprisingly simple.

Dorm hallways.

Common rooms.

Reading nooks.

The kinds of places students naturally gravitate toward after classes end.

But before long, we weren’t talking about furniture anymore.

We were talking about belonging.

John posed a question that I have not been able to shake:

What if residence halls were intentionally designed around the different ways students experience community instead of assuming every student experiences it the same way?

That question stopped me.

So, John, since I know you’ll probably read this, thank you!

Thank you for always being willing to entertain one more idea, one more “what if,” and one more conversation about boarding schools. I also owe you an apology in advance because if history is any indication, this article will probably turn into several more texts, phone calls, and emails where I keep picking your brain.

That’s the downside of having really good ideas.

People keep coming back for more.

We Design Learning Environments. Why Not Belonging Environments?

Boarding schools are remarkably intentional when designing academic spaces.

We think carefully about classroom layouts.

Natural light.

Collaborative workspaces.

Flexible seating.

Technology.

Acoustics.

We ask how a classroom can support different ways of learning.

Yet when it comes to residence halls, we often become surprisingly practical.

How many beds?

How many bathrooms?

Where is the laundry room?

How large is the common room?

Those questions matter.

But they don’t answer the most important one.

How does this building help students belong?

Because unlike classrooms, dormitories are where life actually happens.

This is where students celebrate birthdays.

Cry after difficult phone calls home.

Meet roommates who become lifelong friends.

Stay up too late talking about the future.

Navigate conflict.

Learn independence.

Discover who they are.

Residential life is not something that happens after the educational experience.

It is part of the educational experience.

One Common Room Cannot Meet Every Student’s Needs

Imagine a typical Tuesday evening.

One student wants to watch a basketball game with fifteen friends.

Another wants to study beside two classmates.

Someone just got off a difficult FaceTime call with family and needs quiet without wanting to feel isolated.

An international student wants a comfortable place to call home.

A new ninth grader wants to leave their room but isn’t ready to walk into the loudest space in the building.

All of those students are looking for the same thing.

Connection.

They’re simply looking for it differently.

Yet many dorms unintentionally ask students to make a choice.

Stay alone in your room.

Or jump into the busiest space on the floor.

I wonder how many students fall somewhere in between.

Maybe We’ve Been Thinking About Introverts and Extroverts All Wrong

This isn’t really an article about introverts.

Or extroverts.

It’s an article about people.

The outgoing student may crave a lively common room after dinner but desperately need a quiet place after a difficult day.

The quieter student may spend most evenings reading but still want to feel connected to the energy of the dorm.

Most of us move between those experiences more often than we realize.

Belonging isn’t about personality types.

It’s about having choices.

The Spaces Between Matter

One aspect of my conversation with John that particularly stuck with me was his observation about hallways.

A narrow hallway gets students from Point A to Point B.

A wider hallway can become a place.

Add a bench.

A window.

A couple of chairs.

Suddenly students stop.

Conversations happen.

A dorm parent notices someone who seems quieter than usual.

A senior sits down beside a new student.

None of that was scheduled.

It simply became possible because the environment invited it.

Architecture doesn’t create relationships.

People do.

But architecture quietly influences whether relationships have room to grow.

Research Is Beginning to Catch Up

Interestingly, researchers are beginning to explore this very idea.

A 2018 study published in the Journal of Architecture and Planning examined how the design and connection of common spaces influence the way people use shared environments. Rather than focusing only on individual rooms, the researchers found that openness, visibility, flexibility, and the relationship between spaces all affect how people move through, observe, and participate in community.

The study focused on university campuses, not boarding schools.

But the principle feels incredibly relevant.

Belonging isn’t only created by people.

Sometimes it’s encouraged by the places where people meet.

What If Every Dorm Had Different Ways to Belong?

Imagine a residence hall designed with intention.

A lively commons for games, celebrations, and conversation.

A reading nook overlooking campus.

A small lounge for meaningful one-on-one conversations.

A quiet study room where students naturally help one another.

A comfortable place for international students to call home.

Wide hallways where conversations happen naturally instead of blocking traffic.

None of these spaces exist to separate students.

They exist to give students options.

Because not every student needs the same environment every day.

This Matters Even More for Neurodiverse Students

Students with ADHD.

Autism.

Anxiety.

Sensory sensitivities.

Executive functioning differences.

For many of these students, the environment itself becomes part of the support system.

Lighting matters.

Noise matters.

Predictability matters.

Furniture placement matters.

Visual clutter matters.

A student avoiding the common room may not be avoiding community.

They may simply be avoiding sensory overload.

That’s an important distinction.

Sometimes we respond with more programming when what students actually need is a different space.

What Admissions Offices Should Notice

Families tour classrooms.

Athletic facilities.

Arts buildings.

Residence halls.

But I wonder if admissions teams should spend a little less time talking during the dorm tour.

Instead, encourage families to notice.

Where are students naturally gathering?

Where are the quieter students?

Does the dorm seem to have places for different personalities?

Does it feel like every student could find a place to belong?

Those observations may tell families more than another presentation ever could.

The Dorm of the Future

I don’t think the future of residential life is necessarily bigger buildings.

Or newer buildings.

Or more expensive buildings.

I think it’s more thoughtful buildings.

Buildings that recognize students are wonderfully different.

Buildings that acknowledge belonging doesn’t always look loud.

Buildings that understand community isn’t measured by how many people are in the common room at one time.

It’s measured by whether every student feels there is a place for them.

This entire article began because John Christiansen asked a question that changed the way I think about residence halls.

The best conversations have a way of doing that.

They don’t give us answers.

They give us better questions.

Maybe the next evolution of residential life isn’t asking how we can create more programming.

Maybe it’s asking whether the spaces we’ve already built truly reflect the students we’re asking to call them home.

Because when we intentionally design for different ways to connect, recharge, and belong, we do far more than improve a dormitory.

We quietly tell every student who walks through the front door:

There is a place for you here!

Sources:

School Leadership – Kents Hill School. (2024). Kentshill.Org. https://www.kentshill.org/about/school-leadership 

Yasumori, A., Ezure, T., & Matsuura, T. (2018). The openness of campus architecture from the viewpoint of spatial connection centered on multipurpose common space. Journal of Architecture and Planning (Transactions of AIJ), 83(747), 833–842. https://doi.org/10.3130/aija.83.833