There's a Prof in the Dorm

that faculty have is that the residence halls are out of control,” he says. “Students have fun, but they study.”

LIVE THE COLLEGE LIFE

Early on a warm October evening, Hums and his wife put their 16-year-old gray tabby, Squeak, on a short leash Hums made out of a lanyard. They like to sit with him outside their new home.

The cat provides an in with the students. The residents know Squeak and like to pet him, Hums says, since he reminds them of their own pets back at home. His owners have even printed up business cards for him, encouraging visits.

The Humses station themselves on an outside bench and wait.

A young woman strides by in booties and a striped dress, eyeing 
Squeak out of the corner of her eye. She gets almost into the door of Lyons before she turns around and comes back. “Can I pet him?” she asks, suddenly shy. It turns out she has a beagle at home.

A second student doesn’t even have to ask. “There’s Squeak at his post!” she exclaims.

Ritually, the Humses have dinner together in the South Dining Hall, then retire to the bench with Squeak as evening falls. Students can observe how respectfully the couple interact. When husband and wife are both asked a question, for instance, Hums holds a hand out, deferring to Shirley.

The Humses have been married 33 years. Hums spotted Shirley on his first day of work at Notre Dame: March 1, 1975. She worked at the ticket office (and has remained with Notre Dame Athletics ever since). After three months, Hums worked up the courage to ask her out.

The professor and his wife know they are watched by the students. “They notice what color my nails are,” Shirley says, holding out a home manicure in purple, “or how high my heels are. And they [give compliments].”

The close observation extends to their marriage; the Humses have become marital role models for the young women. “It actually gives me an example of what long-lasting, true love is,” Aubreanna Bobb says. “Sometimes at night you can see them slow-dancing or cooking together, and a small smile comes to my face every time.”

Hums also exerts his academic influence. In early fall, he held an open house for everyone taking his class; eight or nine students showed up for Chex Mix, Cheetos, cookies, mexican dip and conversation. Clusters have met in his apartment to work on group projects, too.

Sophomore Tara Molson has taken advantage of all the in-person access to accounting knowledge: Attending the apartment meet and greet. Emailing to have a concept re-explained in the Lyons lounge. Calling the phone number Hums has offered to have a quick question answered.

Molson has learned that professor-student relationships can be relaxed and informal. Hums is now writing her a recommendation for studying abroad. “My expectations of professors were that you really had to seek them out and go to their office hours and make it a very formal thing,” she says. “I like this a lot better because I get to see him as a person.”

The Humses say they’re open to a multi-year commitment to living on campus. The residents of Lyons Hall hope they do. The students believe having a professor live among them is just another special advantage of Notre Dame.

“I asked my friends who go to other schools—this doesn’t exist,” Bobb says.