Dorm partying carries harsh consequences

An array of liquor, 20 college freshmen and a strobe light didn’t exactly produce the greatest batch of birthday fun.

It was midnight Feb. 4, 2007, and I was 19.

The friends I’d invited squeezed into the over-crowded room in Armstrong Hall.

The partiers passed bottles around and I stood near the door to welcome the guests pouring in the room.

The sounds from my room circulated throughout Armstrong and the resident mentors and hall director were fed up.

I dreaded the knock at my door at about 1 a.m.

The guests scattered into corners of the room, hiding their bottles, pretending like the party was an innocent social gathering.

The staff was not fooled.

The mentors wrote down everyone’s name, even the sober ones, because we’d all participated in a violation of residence hall regulations.

There were far more than three guests in the room – the limit for each resident after midnight – there were cups and bottles of alcohol everywhere, and the fact that we were all under 21 years old was more than a violation, it was unlawful.

“But it was my birthday,” was the only excuse I could make to Dwayne Jones, director of Armstrong Hall, as I sat in his office a week later.

He gave no sympathy.

Though I’d been warned of the impact of such an extravaganza, I was still naive.

I faced a lingering punishment that would end my “Thirsty Thursday” partying and take at least an hour out of my Monday evenings.

Six weeks of working as a night receptionist in Brody Complex with no pay and mandatory attendance at MRULE (Multi-Racial Unity Living Experience) meetings for the rest of the year was an unprecedented punishment.

But there was no way out. I did the crime, so I paid the time.

The nights I spent on night receptionist duty were three-hour shifts of boredom.

I often sat in the corner and watched intoxicated residents stumble through the doorway, scrambling to find their student IDs.

I couldn’t assist the employed receptionist for liability reasons so homework was the only thing I could do to keep myself from falling asleep.

There was something about this entire situation that made the penalty seem overbearing but deserving.

MSU students typically learn during their first year that dorm room partying is something that the MSU residence halls don’t permit.

I’d heard of other Armstrong residents facing similar punishments, but I never pictured myself in their shoes.

Although MSU has turned out to be the party school I’d always imagined, I never thought I would today be learning from a “partying mistake.”

But students will continue to have power hour on Friday nights in the dorms until they get caught.

And when the mentors bust them, they will cry and complain that they deserve a second chance, just as I did.

Published on Sunday, September 30, 2007