Before I came to college, I didn’t know anything about any of the dorms – which of them were Honors, which had certain reputations – but in my first few weeks on campus, I quickly came to know a few. And a year and a half later, one prejudice I’ve never quite understood is the one so many UA students hold against those who live in Tutwiler.

“Slutwiler.” “Thirteen floors of whores.” Just about any derogatory nickname you can think of for Tut has already been invented.

I work in the MTLC connected to Tut, and I get the oddest reactions from people when I tell them where I work – and none of them are good. I’ve gotten everything from, “Oh, I’m sorry” to “Did you do that on purpose?” When I ask why it’s such a bad thing, however, they flounder, unable to come up with an adequate reason of why being in proximity of Tut is a fate worse than death.

I know plenty of intelligent, ambitious girls who live in Tut; it bothers me to see them lumped in with some of my friends’ preconceived notion of the vapid, materialistic sorority girl. Having lived in Honors housing since I started school last year, I can attest to the fact that not everyone in the Honors dorms are exactly Einsteins.

And certainly, those who live in the dorm may call it any number of the names, but they aren’t attacking its residents – it’s more like being in on a joke instead of the butt of one.

The community aspect of Tutwiler is something I honestly envy. Everyone knows everyone on their hall, presumably because they have community bathrooms. And while I do like my restroom privacy, I think I’d forgo that if I could actually know my neighbors.

I don’t know anyone on my hall. Not one person. When we pass each other in the halls, we perform the old “precursory smile then check your phone for nothing important” song and dance.

When I enter my suite after a hard day of class, it’s depressing to find all my roommates in their separate bedrooms, doing their own things. Meanwhile, in Tut, you sleep in the same room as your roommate. Again, privacy might be an issue there, but it must be nice to actually talk to the people with whom you live.

There’s even a Twitter account for Tutwiler (@SlutwilerProbz, appropriately). Why doesn’t Ridgecrest South have a Twitter? It’s not that we don’t have “probz.” It’s that we’re lacking that community feel.

So yes, maybe Tutwiler’s residents do have to deal with mold, but at least they know with whom they live, and that counts for something.

It’s gotten to a point where when I hear someone rag on Tutwiler, I wonder if they just don’t have any other comedic material in their arsenal. Not only is it prejudiced, but it’s also lazy. At least share the load by making fun of all the dorms. Just stop, please.

Beth Lindly is a sophomore majoring in journalism. Her column runs biweekly on Tuesdays.