Featured, Life @ BC

The Rock Class of 2018 Presents: A Guide to the Housing Lottery & Sophomore Housing

The word sophomore is said to come the Greek sophos, meaning “wise,” and mōros, “fool.” The etymology is incredibly fitting, as most sophomores would agree we’re completely clueless about our future career plans and how to be an adult in general. However, we are considerably more knowledgeable than our freshman counterparts in some areas pertaining to BC, namely housing. The sting of the 8-man that could have been is fresher for us than any juniors or seniors, and we are still in the throes of our unexpected affection for Walsh and Coro. And in that spirit, the current Rock sophomores give you our guide to the housing lottery.

College Road (“Coro”)


emma room

“Ronc is the greatest, don’t sweat it if you get Coro. I never have to clean my own bathroom!  I don’t have to deal with awkward suitemate issues when someone leaves their dishes in the sink or choose who is going to take the fall for that handle of Rubi the RA’s found expertly hidden in plain sight because you forgot about it. Mac and PASTA TOSS are 152 steps from my room (I counted) and you can continue to use that ‘it’s too far’ excuse to never go to the Plex!  And if we’re being honest, I think my social life has expanded because of Coro.  I did block with my friends, but because we don’t have our own common room into which we can retreat, we’ve made incredible friends with the girls on our floor.  I make it to Lower every weekend.  You’ll have friends in Walsh and Vandy anyway, so you can sleep on their couches, in their beds, and stash your sweatpants in their closets on those freezing Boston nights.  Ronc is objectively the best dorm on campus, and while it probably isn’t your first choice, all’s well that ends well, amirite?” – Emma Allen ‘18


“Nick and I wrote an article together in November.  This is the first time we have communicated since.  Such is life in Welch.  Most of the people who live here are basically Smeagul from Lord of the Rings.  To be honest, we had to count the number of tallies that we’ve scratched into the side of our dressers to determine how long it has truly been since we last had human contact.  Welch is reminiscent of the Dark Ages in that there are no modern technological advancements available and several warring factions clashing for control of the basement lounge.  Life on any other floor of Welch gives the illusion that this building offers the typical Coro experience of a slightly shittier repeat of freshman year living.  However, our residence in the basement affords us a unique perspective on the true reality of this hellish landscape.  The isolation of Coro living is strangely juxtaposed by the frequent public displays of the basement residents at their most vulnerable; not only must we walk through the main laundry room of Coro to enter our bathroom, but we must then cleanse ourselves in what can most aptly be described as a grimy public shower that would befit Average Joe’s gym from Dodgeball.  In addition to the usual shampoo and body wash, each member of the basement keeps some form of weaponry in their shower caddies, in order to ward off a potential attack from a neighboring faction.  If Roncalli presents a friendly, harmless face of life on Coro, Welch serves as the dangerous underbelly that illustrates Coro’s obfuscation of human nature. You guys read Lord of the Flies? Ronc is the plane.  Welch is the island. You are Piggy. Welcome to sophomore year.” -Nick Flowers and George Chunias ‘18


“The last frontier of Coro. I’m actually eternally grateful for my double in Williams. My group of three last year (our goal was to get to 66 if that says anything) got a pick time that was THE LAST ONE before Coro was actually full. So in a timespan of about 2 hours we had to let go of our 66 dream triple and pray that there was still enough room on Coro. You’ll grow to love being able to wake up at 10:45 for your 11am (hopefully you’ve learned that no good can come from a class scheduled before 10:30) and food is almost a little too convenient to reach. Also, you get to share a building with a floor of freshman guys!! Just a friendly reminder that Upper (which you will still be considered part of by all your friends on Lower) is a few steps away. But hey, the stairs to Williams are not nearly as bad as Upper and I’m just going to go out on a limb and say they’re a lot better than a bus to class everyday.” – Michelle Castro ‘18

Lower Campus

Vanderslice Hall (“Vandy”)

“Living in Vanderslice by most counts makes me one of the lucky ones. It’s established enough to actually have a name and new enough that my Mom doesn’t have friends who lived there in 1983. The walls and ceiling tiles are intact and it lacks that generally pervasive Saturday night smell of warm bodies and warmer alcohol. Most importantly, Vandy is central to all the hotspots on Lower Campus- the Mods, Walsh, Lower and St. Ignatius (if that’s what you’re into). And if you don’t want to leave the building on a weekend night or perhaps aren’t in a state to make it out, Vandy has enough going on in its own right.  All of this is great, but capturing Vandy for all that it is would be a failure without addressing a key component – the enigma of BC housing that is the 9-man. I often get questions like “How is it…living in a forced triple?” or “You live with EIGHT other girls…don’t you argue all the time?!” Well, it’s not exactly a forced triple, or at least I don’t get any discount (thanks, BC). And yes, we do argue – over how much to turn up the AC, the amount of food stuffed into our full-size refrigerator, and how many people to invite to the pregame that will never be written up. When the going gets tough, we pride ourselves in being able to make multiple trips to Lower before anyone else can get to and from their dorms (yes, two dinners is a thing) and not having to worry about losing our coats, as we can sprint the 100 feet to Walsh in sub-zero temperatures (probably not advisable). In short, Vandy is the best of everything, and we get the experience times nine.” – Morgan Coakley ‘18

90 St. Thomas More Rd. (“90”)grace room

“Admittedly, the housing lottery wasn’t incredibly stressful for me. I was my group leader and the extent of my panic was not being able to see when our pick time was because the system crashed after receiving the email saying we’d gotten a pick time for an 8-man. We were lucky enough to score the last 8-man in 90 with a somewhat later time because of certain boys who chose Walsh with earlier times for ‘the prestige.’ I do laugh hearing freshmen try to decide between Vandy and Walsh. 90’s nobody’s first choice, but I couldn’t be happier here. I have air conditioning, a fridge, a spacious bathroom, no security desk, prime dining hall proximity, a killer view (just kidding, it’s literally the cross on the side of 66) and a quiet place to come home to after spending the night in Walsh. Viva la 90.” – Grace Rice ‘18

Walsh Hall

“It was the best of pick times, it was the worst of pick times. Well, technically it was the worst of the best pick times, being the 2nd to last group to pick for an 8-man, but who cares. The prophecy had been fulfilled. I was going to live in Walsh. As the child of someone who had to suffer through a miserable Coro existence in Welch (sorry, Mom), I finally got what my bloodline deserved: a chance to live in the Promised Land. Now, people tend to trash on Walsh for being gross and all. That is, until they need something to do on the weekends; then they’re all about us. All that is fine by me because honestly we’re here for a good time, not a long one, and that’s what Walsh is. A short, but beautiful and fun, year. Sure, you may sweat like a whore in church for the first month due to limited (aka nonexistent) AC. But I haven’t had to leave Walsh once on a weekend night this winter (unless I dare the cold for some mozz sticks). So who’s the real winner here? Walsh may be a shithole, but it’s my shithole, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. #Walsh4Lyfe” – Korey Ryan ‘18

“Walsh Hall is a hereditary right in the Sullivan family. My mom lived on the fourth floor, my dad on the third floor, and I am now carrying on the legacy on the second floor. To reiterate Korey’s eloquent words, ‘Walsh may be a shithole, but it’s my shithole.’ It must be noted that Korey uses the term ‘shithole’ figuratively and literally. I will never forget the email I received from the Walsh Resident Director that included the heading ‘A Few Community Concerns.’ Not just one, but two paragraphs were dedicated to reminding college sophomores that the ‘appropriate place to go to the bathroom, be it to urinate or to defecate, is also your bathroom toilet.’ That being said, I wouldn’t trade my year in Walsh for anything. The location is prime, being minutes away from the Mods, Vandy, Lower, and the Plex (haha). On weekends, the elevators allow you to find yourself in an overcrowded, moist 8-man with Rubinoff infused jungle juice or your bed in a matter of minutes. If Walsh could talk, I know it would borrow words from the inspirational Rob Gronkowski, ‘Yo soy fiesta.’” -Sarah Sullivan ‘18

66 Commonwealth Ave (“66”)

caroline 66

“The first time I told my parents that I was going to be living in 66, my mom asked, ‘Wait, so what’s the actual dorm called?’ I then had to explain to her that my dorm was so unforgettable that it didn’t even get a real name, and that it was only one 6 away from being totally not Jesuit at all. In all serious, though, 66 is the bomb. I didn’t exactly think it’d be great at first, although that might have been because I had emerged from the housing selection process with what felt like no sanity or dignity left to show for it. After living here for a few months and having time to rationalize, I can honestly say that this is not a horrible place to live. It’s clean, quiet, and right next to Dunkin’ Donuts. I can go out on the weekends and stumble back a few hours later to a room that doesn’t have that charming prison-like aesthetic (I’m looking at you, Walsh). Ellen, the Resident Minister, bakes the whole dorm cookies every Wednesday night, and the whole fourth floor is filled with study lounges. For anyone that wants to say 66 is “lame honors housing” or “totally not as lit as my super cool 8-man,” I’ll be sure to NOT invite you to the amazing pre-game I’ll be having in my glorified forced triple on Marathon Monday: the one day that I won’t even care that I can’t have a Keurig or my own shower.” – Caroline Lewis ‘18


Call it what you want: the inferno, the island of misfit toys, or the dorm whose name shan’t be uttered, but it’s formal, BC-given name is Greycliff Hall.  Situated at 2051 Commonwealth Avenue, this “on-campus” dorm is not on campus, and to call it a “dorm” is stretching the word to its very limits.  The number of students who have stepped foot in Greycliff on any given year, let alone lived there, is probably far less than 1 percent of the student body, so anyone scared of ending up there should be assuaged by that pseudo-statistic.  Furthermore, a good deal of students living in Greycliff are, like I was, transfer students.  The stuffy, thick carpeting covering the creaky wooden stairs and floor, coupled with the, ehm, “diverse” mixture of people, conjure up thoughts of a depression-era orphanage that has had a pile of whitewashed plywood stapled to the walls to make it seem more bearable.  While it has all the “amenities” of a normal dorm—vending machines, common room(s), washing machines—it’s safe to say that all the negative aspects of it do make it a generally unappealing place to 99.99% of students (a select few do choose to live there, sometimes for multiple years).  Though just as safe as any other BC housing, I left Greycliff last year feeling robbed: robbed of a year of housing, robbed of a $5000+ mandatory meal plan that I had to walk a half of a mile to take advantage of (which is especially annoying in a snowstorm when the buses stop running), and, finally, robbed of my dignity.” – Scott Carlson ‘17

Gabelli, Voute, Edmonds

“Lol, in your dreams. Also, RIP Edmonds.” – Edward Byrne ‘18

“Edmonds Hall, forever in our hearts, 1975-Infinity” – Korey Ryan ‘18

All Photos Courtesy of Rock Staff

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