Dorm showers are what you make of them. They are small, often cold, and have less water pressure than a kiddie splash pad. Nonetheless, they are apart of dorm life and serve their basic purposes. In addition, they have taught me life lessons I feel have improved me as a person and enhanced my college experience.

From day one, showering in a dorm shower has made me thankful for the little things, like hot water. It may sound ridiculous, but you do not know how miserable an icy shower is until it is the only thing available to you for the first week of living on a college campus. That's right, the first week. Luckily, the hot water was back shortly, and even to this day (six weeks later,) I still feel blessed whenever warm water comes out of the faucet.

The small shower space has also added a touch of bravery and adventure to my life. When I don't wash my hair (which happens more often than I'm willing to admit,) I have to be quick and agile to avoid the water. When I shave my legs (which happens less often than I'm willing to admit,) I have to get creative on how to best guide the razor without slicing my knee open. Every move is a risk. One move of the arm could result in a bruised elbow. Another step in the wrong direction may lead to your nose accidentally touching the - wait for it - shower wall. Yes, the same wall touched by every other student who uses that shower. Forget skydiving and cliff jumping. The dorm shower gives me my sense of danger.

The fact the shower I use is the same one used by anywhere from five to ten other girls a day should also be taken into consideration. When I see a long strand of hair around the drain, I cannot yell at the person. Most of the time, I do not even know to whom the hair belongs. Even so, I must pick my battles. I just have to take a deep breath, make sure my flip-flops are secure, and get in the shower.

That brings me to another topic: the hair.

Girls are worse than the average housecat when it comes to shedding. Within one shower alone, I will often find three different types of hair on the wall. It is not only disturbing, but makes me concerned for the eventual baldness of my fellow residents. That being said, this lack of awareness of the mess one leaves behind has made me aware of how important it is for me to shed my selfish self. Granted, I do not possess the strength to remove each hair from the shower without getting sick, but I do have the strength to be more observant of how my actions impact others.

In the shower, I can help others by picking up my loose hair or rinsing off the bit of shampoo I somehow got on the wall. Outside the shower, I can help others by being aware of how I respond to situations. Do I smile when someone makes eye contact with me on the way to class? Do I say "good morning" to the staff when I go to the dining hall for breakfast? Do I go just a smidge out of my way to give someone else a hand? I should.

Dorm showers, just as college itself, are what you make of them, and in return they have made me more grateful, adventurous, and hopefully a little more selfless.