As a former RA, hall director, and area director, I’m pretty surprised that this worked for so long. Somebody was definitely asleep at the switch. It’s easy (and obvious) to go after the RA whose floor she lived on - as it’s pretty much standard everywhere I’ve worked to get a printout of who should be where, and occasionally you have to move registered students who’ve illegally swapped rooms. For a number of reasons, it’s essential to know who lives where.
Time to fight some ignorance… Ethnic-themed halls or houses have been around since the 1960s, and are most prominent at selective schools (Cornell, MIT, Stanford, and Berkeley are schools I know that have them off the top of my head). When students of color first arrived (in large numbers) at predominantly White campuses after 1965, they often experienced outright racism (“you’re not qualified to be here”) to subtler forms of microaggressive actions (“can I touch your hair,” “what is the Latino perspective on [insert large societal issue here]”). Students in many cases lobbied and protested campus administrators for spaces for the members of a community to “let their hair down,” and be in environments that were more familiar and sustaining. In the case of MIT’s “Chocolate City,” it’s been around for about 33 years.
It’s assumptive and a marker of White privilege to prioritize the importance of integrating and exploring other cultures while not considering that markers of other cultures are not necessarily present or apparent. All students are well immersed in WASP culture at predominantly White institutions, because that is the very cultural context in which these schools were established and founded. It is only in the past 30 years that students of color, alumni, academics, and philanthropists have been able to have a say in the direction of school governance.
Not every student of color wants to live in an ethnic-themed house, and the students tend to do so for very individual reasons. One trend among African-American students in Black theme houses is the ability to live in a community that is predominantly African African, after a childhood of being “the only one” in majority White schools. Theme houses exist, and have existed for years - for students who are LGBTQ, for students interested in certain activities (outdoors, speaking a foreign language), and let’s not forget the Greek system. I’ve discovered that students do not always stay in the theme houses for their entire college experience - it has as much to do with individual racial identity formation and preferences. The theme halls also often have a social justice and programming mission, and students who live there will often say that the only reason that they feel a strong connection to their institution is the fact that they have a link to the friends and programming in the theme house.
(FTR, I never lived in a theme house or a frat house, though I had the chance to do the latter. It’s just a topic I’ve researched in the past. I certainly can relate to the weirdness of being one of five Black kids in a 900 student residence hall, though.)