Mia Lasic-Ellis

Last March, when we found out which blocks were in MacMillan House (Mac), I was honestly just confused. I didn’t quite see the vision, and I was unsure if we could bond when it felt like the only thing we had in common was that we were going to live under the same roof the next year. I was also confused on whether to spell MacMillan with one “i” or two.

Our first meal in Thorne together only proved my point. I thought I didn’t remember it correctly because there are large gaps in my head. Turns out, I remembered it pretty perfectly—we actually had awkward silences where blocks silently communicated with each other via eye contact, urging the few people they already knew in the house to ask a question.

Our committee leader elections were similarly uninspiring. We didn’t even have enough people to run for the positions, so I decided to “run” on the spot for the house bonding role. After winning that extremely competitive race, September passed by in a blur, with our house advisors urging us to create house energy through volunteer opportunities, committee events and bonding activities to set us up well for the rest of the year. Though we did a lot our first month, I think we fully clicked later in the year, in October. It wasn’t a big event that did it, like when we went apple picking—but the result of many small yet effortful moments, like weekly house study nights (with more snacking than studying), Sunday dinners and house meetings.

Suddenly, finding an empty seat at the dining room table felt more competitive than that awkward room lottery just a few months ago. The chalkboard filled with quotes taken out of context and a birthday calendar was also drawn, as investing in each other became something we did automatically, unprompted. Being a Mac member became part of our sophomore year routines. Once we got the ball rolling, we didn’t need a “reason” to show up and hang out because we were already always there. I think I could count the number of times I’ve come home at night to an empty first floor on one hand.

To me, that is the potential of the college houses, or, frankly, the potential of any new space or group at Bowdoin. When discomfort and awkwardness are replaced with inside jokes and noticing that someone has told that story before. These are the signs of the amount of time we had all put into these relationships with each other. I know that what made Mac click this year wasn’t just luck. It was repetition. Our success came from creating opportunities for the community we wanted that fit into the habits and routines we already had.

After going to a residential boarding school for all four years of high school, I came to Bowdoin hoping I would find a similar kind of community to the dorm life I had, where nights were spent in the common room chatting and a knock on your door was common. Where pride for our dorm and the community we had built was a tradition, passed down for generations.

Mac looks like your housemates coming to say hi at your track and field tournament because they have frisbee regionals at the same school. It looks like your housemate knowing that you had your least favorite class that day and letting you vent for too long. Where people you didn’t know eight months ago all go bowling together and can both trash talk and cheer you on when you finally knock a singular pin down.

According to the Offer of the College, to be a Bowdoin student is “to make hosts of friends … who are to be leaders in all walks of life / to lose yourself in generous enthusiasms / and cooperate with others for common ends.” One year later, I still don’t quite understand who the house is named after or how it is spelled. Nor do I understand why only some of the TV remotes work. But I do know that I should buy the 40 (not 20) pack of Welch’s for house study nights and that when you get asked to go to Thursday Supers, it’s not so much of an invitation as an order.

While we will move out of the house in just a few weeks, I know that my time with these people is just beginning. This house gave me a home, people I will continue to panic about problem sets with, catch up with over a Sunday dinner and rely on for advice. I’m grateful to my housemates for being the “hosts of friends,” people who occupy different corners of campus life, but still meet me at the dining table to ask how my day was. I’m most grateful that they taught me how to invest in building community and showed me how much Bowdoin has to offer. In fact, the ones going abroad to Europe in the fall, including me, are already planning to reunite. It turns out that all those nights not doing my homework at the dining room table paid off.

Anna Kim is a member of the Class of 2028.