Inspired by Marina Keegan’s “The Opposite of Loneliness”
Are we intentionally designing spaces and experiences that cultivate “the opposite of loneliness”? Or are we letting students fall through the cracks of transactional housing, institutional dining, and fragmented student life?
When Marina Keegan wrote her now-iconic essay, The Opposite of Loneliness, just days before graduating from Yale, she captured a feeling so universally understood and yet so rarely named: that electric, almost sacred sense of belonging that can form among a community of peers at a pivotal moment in life. She called it “the opposite of loneliness,” and in doing so, gave voice to what countless students feel as they prepare to leave the safety net of college for the uncertainty of adulthood.
Her words were tragically elevated to gospel when she died in a car accident five days after graduation. She was just 22.
Marina’s reflection, an equal parts love letter and call to action, is about more than nostalgia. It’s about the human hunger to belong. To connect. To matter to others. And it begs the question for those of us in the business of higher education and campus life:
Why This Matters Now More Than Ever
Today’s students arrive on campus more digitally connected yet emotionally isolated than any generation before. Rates of loneliness, anxiety, and depression are skyrocketing. One in three college students reports feeling “so lonely it was difficult to function,” according to the American College Health Association. The freshman dropout rate remains alarmingly high, with 20–30% of students not returning for their second year.
The enrollment cliff is real, but perhaps more urgent is the connection cliff, the invisible moment when a student decides, “This isn’t for me,” and begins the slow fade out of campus life.
So, the question becomes: what role should physical and operational campus infrastructure, specifically dining, play in combating this epidemic of disconnection?
At Porter Khouw Consulting, we believe the answer lies in SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™ and the purposeful creation of NextGen Residential and Retail Dining experiences. These aren’t just food halls and dining plans; they are emotional and social engines that can change the trajectory of a student’s life.
Dining Halls as the New Town Squares
When designed through the lens of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™, campus dining becomes far more than a place to eat. It becomes a platform for human connection, the modern-day town square where friendships are sparked, ideas are exchanged, and students stumble into their own version of “that night with the guitar,” as Marina so poignantly described.
We’ve seen it time and again: when dining spaces are engineered to promote engagement, with open sightlines, mixed seating zones, curated social programming, and hours that align with the rhythms of student life, they become magnets for belonging.
More importantly, they become ritualized gathering points, places where the sheer consistency of interaction forms new social webs. These are the “tiny circles” Marina referenced: clubs, teams, tables, and text threads that make you feel safe and part of something even on your loneliest nights.
“We’re So Young. We Have So Much Time.”
Marina reminds us of the fragile beauty of this window in a young adult’s life. She writes, “We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time.”
And yet, the first 45 days of the freshman year remain the most critical for social integration. Students who fail to establish a friend group or meaningful routine in that window are exponentially more likely to leave.
Dining is one of the few shared experiences that can be counted on daily. Unlike academic schedules or extracurricular commitments, everyone has to eat. When that act is transformed from a transaction into a meaningful moment of community, it becomes a force multiplier for belonging.
At PKC, our most successful campus partnerships are the ones that lean into this reality. Schools that embrace the why behind SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™ are building spaces that foster “the opposite of loneliness” by design, not by accident.
What Does This Look Like in Practice?
- Anytime Dining: Unlimited access to residential dining that supports spontaneity and freedom, allowing students to “stay at the table” long after the plates are cleared.
- Daypart Extension: Hours that reflect students’ real lives, late nights after rehearsal, early breakfasts before exams. Loneliness doesn’t keep a schedule. Neither should dining.
- Open Plan Social Zones: Mixed seating types, long communal tables, soft lounge clusters, bar-style counters, create flexible zones for every kind of interaction, from one-on-one vulnerability to group celebration.
- Inclusive Menu Programming: Food that reflects cultural identity and dietary needs, eliminating the silent exclusion that can come from not feeling seen.
- Strategic Retail Placement: Purposeful distribution of retail dining around campus encourages movement and discovery, bringing students into contact with others outside their immediate academic or housing bubble.
The ROI of Belonging
Let’s set aside the emotional case for a moment and talk bottom line. We know that students who feel connected:
- Are 3x more likely to persist to sophomore year
- Have higher GPAs and academic engagement
- Are more likely to live on campus for multiple years
- Are less likely to seek food off-campus or meal plan exemptions
- Are more satisfied with their overall college experience
A $30 million investment in next-generation dining designed through the lens of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™ can yield results a $300 million residence hall cannot. Beds don’t foster friendships. Food does. And no student leaves a school because their mattress was too firm.
We’re In This Together, 2012 and 2025.
Marina ended her essay with a simple rallying cry:
“Let’s make something happen to this world.”
We couldn’t agree more. At PKC, we believe our work isn’t about food. It’s about fuel, for connection, for purpose, for the kind of moments that give students the courage to begin a beginning.
We owe it to them—and to her—to make something happen.
Let’s build campuses where “the opposite of loneliness” isn’t just felt by a lucky few, but designed into the fabric of daily life for everyone.
In honor of Marina Keegan (1989–2012), whose words continue to inspire us to build lives and places, worth belonging to.
