Lights on Laurentians: “We’re Living in Squalor”: The Plight of Theme House Kitchens

By Kate Angus and Kelsey Mattison

Susie* bounces up to the colorful porch of her theme house, opening the door and waving us through. We step inside and are immediately greeted by the organized chaos that inevitably comes with 12-plus college students living together in a small home.

“Sorry about the mess, you know how weekends are.”

She laughs, gesturing to the empty beer cans and solo cups that litter the front hallway.

“It’s such an amazing community. We really are like a family.”

She lives in one of the theme houses on campus, a unique feature to St. Lawrence University. Like the other Victorian townhouses surrounding the small liberal arts school, her house organizes and leads events, open to all students, contributing to the rich student culture.

She leads us into the living room, where we sit down on a faded and sagging couch.

“I think my favorite part of living here is the feeling of living in a real home. You just don’t get that in a dorm.”

She gives us a brief house tour, showcasing the beautiful front staircase and original crown moulding. The walls are lined with posters, photos, and fairy lights; you can tell it’s well-loved. We circle back to the living room, but we point out there was one room she forgot: the kitchen.

“Oh, you don’t want to see the kitchen,” she laughs nervously, “it’s so gross in there.”

But we insist.

After politely pushing past her into the kitchen, we’re shocked to discover just how truly disastrous it was. Dirty dishes are stacked quite literally to the ceiling, seemingly defying gravity. Not one square inch of counter space is saved, and the slivers that aren’t stacked with dishes were covered with crumbs and spills. Fruit flies swarm the trashcan, piled high.

“It’s gotten bad,” she says, finally joining us in the kitchen. Her tone seems…darker, all of the sudden.

The Susie in the kitchen that afternoon is a vastly different person from the bubbly sociology major we had met earlier on the porch.

***

It’s 10:30pm on Saturday night and Susie is starting to get a little loose in the juice at a party that her theme house is hosting. Stumbling over a boyishly handsome young man, Susie approaches her friend Jane*, a look of determination and slight rage in her eye.

“Jane, we need to talk,” Susie barks sharply at her friend.

“You have become a total slob. I can’t believe you let the kitchen get this out of hand this week. I’m thinking of       reporting you to the RC.”

“Wow, Susie, calm down, it’s just a couple of dishes…” responds Jane, shocked at her housemate’s reaction.

“Just a couple of dishes?! Jane, they are piled floor to ceiling!”

The dishes teeter precariously as the commotion increases and tensions rise.

“Susie, let’s talk about this tomorrow, when we are both in a better state of mind,” speaks Jane calmly, trying to level Susie in her fit of rage. She eyes the wobbling mass of ceramic in the sink, and maneuvers a safe distance away.

The next day is a little rough for all of the house members. The common room is littered with confetti and wounded soldiers, waiting for a first year to “odds are” their friend to drink one.

Groaning, Susie meanders her way through the mess to the bathroom to cleanse her belly of the toxins she poured into it the night before. After booting and brushing her teeth, Susie starts heading back to her room when she hears her name come through the door of her friend Mike’s* room.

“Susie was a total psycho last night, did you hear what she said to me?”

“What?” inquires Mike.

“She flipped out on me about the kitchen. Yeah, it’s a little gross, but I’m not the only one who makes dirty dishes!”

The next weekend, we learn that another drunken argument had broken out in the house, causing the colossal mountain of dishes to finally collapse, crushing Susie and seriously injuring her. This is the third accident of it’s kind and severity this academic year.

***

When we visit Susie in the hospital a few days later, the nurse tells us she’s sleeping; we should let her rest.

“These kids come in, seriously injured, soaked in dishwater, and I wonder, ‘how can we prevent this?’” the nurse tells us. “These kitchens are becoming a serious public health issue”

She isn’t wrong. The United States Census reports that kitchen-related accidents are the second most common cause of hospitalization of college students in the 2016-17 academic year.

Those numbers are only growing, affecting thousands like Susie on campuses across the country.

Back in the room, Jane is sitting by Susie’s bedside, tears staining her cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have been so lazy. We all should start doing our part,” she laments, tears once again welling in her eyes.

“We’re living in squalor, we can’t let the senseless tragedy continue like this!” She throws herself down on the edge of the bed, sobs shuddering through her body.

Susie remains sleeping, the collection of flowers by the window throwing a soft shadow on her cheek. She looks peaceful, safe, at least for now.

*Names have been changed for the anonymity and safety of participants.

If you or someone you know is living in hazardous kitchen conditions, please contact campus security. Or at the very least, do your dishes.