Reaffirming the Campus as a Sacred Space: A Japanese Case Study

In light of the considerable transformations in higher education that have had an impact on traditional campus experiences, this paper explores the role of university campuses as sacred spaces for young people. In particular, it examines the significance of the material environment in shaping young peoples’ experiences and social memberships within higher education institutions. Drawing on qualitative research, namely digital walkthrough interviews conducted at a Japanese institution during the COVID-19 pandemic, this paper argues that the physical spaces of a university produce special meaning and unexpected attachments for young people, and thus warrants greater attention as a site for social interaction and exchange. It will be shown that there is a need to look beyond the instrumental and purely pedagogic needs of students and place a greater emphasis on efforts to build more socially supportive campus environments. As universities continue the process of reinventing themselves to better fit the ‘new normal’ in a post-pandemic environment, this paper advocates for more consideration of the everyday needs of young people with regard to meaningful interaction, connection and belonging, and how regarding the campus as a sacred space for practices of placemaking and shared experience offers a pathway to fulfill these needs.


Introduction
For some time now, factors such as changing fiscal environments, shifting student demographics, and the vast possibilities opened up by digital technologies have reshaped higher educational landscapes.Such directions were already underway before the COVID-19 pandemic, which forced a reimagining of pedagogy, as well as the modes and places of learning.Arguably, sustainable digital development was already underway across the sector, and the pandemic merely brought forward the ceasing of on-campus lectures (Kinash et al. 2021).However, although the experience may have varied within and between countries, in 2020, instead of spending their first days wandering through a vibrant, bustling campus, enjoying the many social bonding opportunities found in clubs and societies, young people, particularly first-year students, were more likely to be at home in front of computer screens than 'out there' securing a sense of belonging to multiple sources, such as place, career/ work, and other connections (Franklin and Tranter 2022: 155).For countries like Japan, although the lockdown and restrictions were less strict, students were nonetheless displaced from university campuses for up to 2 years.By the second year of online learning there were reports of anxiety over fears of not being able to 'fit in' to university life when back on campus, due to being denied traditional orientation and bond-building activities that occur at the start of the university year (Tahara et al. 2021).As a result, social media was flooded with calls for a full-scale restart of in-person university lectures with the hashtag 'the everyday lives of college students also matter ' [translation] (NFUCA 2020).
In consideration of the transformations that are reshaping higher education environments, including as universities emerge from the pandemic, there is a need for renewed focus on the role of campuses as important social destinations for young people.Drawing on qualitative research, namely walkthrough interviews conducted at a Japanese institution during the pandemic on students' use of campus spaces, this paper argues that the material environment of a university campus produces special meaning and unexpected attachments for young people, and thus warrants greater attention as a site for meaningful interaction and exchange.It will be shown that there is a need to look beyond the instrumental and purely pedagogic needs of students and place a greater emphasis on efforts to build more socially supportive campus environments.
Sherry Turkle first advanced the idea that universities need to protect spaces for solitude and conversation.She contends 'When we wired the universities, every last room of them, we didn't consider that we were making it harder for students to attend to their peers or their own thoughts ' (2015: 321).Central to this assertion is the view that physical places are where conversations occur, and while Turkle recognises that the virtual world provides spaces for conversation, she argues that the material environment '… supports continuity in a different way; it doesn't come and go, and it binds people to it.You can't just log off or drop out.You learn to live things through ' (2015: 331).For this reason she, as advanced in this paper, views campus social spaces as sacred and in need of protection.As universities commence the process of reinventing themselves to better fit the 'new normal', this paper contends that human connection brought about by campus-based interactions is irreplaceable in the student experience.There is therefore a need for more consideration of the everyday needs of young people with regard to meaningful interaction, connection and belonging, and how regarding the campus as a sacred space offers a pathway for the achievement of this.
It is worth noting that, in a Japanese context, there is a precedent for using sacred in a secular sense.The term sacred is widely employed in popular culture and tourism to describe visits to beloved locations from movies, drama, and anime.The use of the term seichi junrei, originally a religious term meaning "pilgrimage to a sacred place," has been coopted by fans and the industry alike (Seaton et al. 2017), illustrating that the concept of sacred can transcend religious connotations to encompass places of cultural and emotional significance.

'Place Affordances' and Belonging
The concept of belonging has 'many registers', including social, political, economic, cultural and spatial (Harris et al. 2021: 4).A sense of belonging is built and re-built through our surroundings and the interactions taking place within them, and as such resides in the nexus for the connection between the self and the social structures we engage with through our daily lives (May 2011).Importantly, changes in our circumstances prefigure changes in our sense of belonging, corresponding with changes in the self that take place at the same time (May 2011).For young people, Harris et al. (2021) identify a normative construction of 'conditional belonging', whereby membership is limited to their participation in education, training and employment realms.A sense of 'belongingness' arises from complex connections to place, occurring at specific times in an individual's life that are narrativised through agespecific cultural scripts (Franklin and Tranter 2022).A constellation of 'belongingness relationships' are mapped onto temporal narratives that provide the coordinates through which individuals 'arrive at a sense of belonging, or lack of, depending on our place and time trajectories' (Franklin and Tranter 2022: 161).These belongingness relationships are forged in 'place affordances' such as workplaces, public areas, entertainment venues and religious places, where practices of belonging can be performed.This also includes universities, with research on belonging among students suggesting that senses of belonging and connection arise through the multiple and complex interactions operating at the institutional culture, curriculum design and student experiential levels (Brooker and Vu 2020;Brownrigg and Try 2019;Diehl et al. 2018;Kahu and Nelson 2018;Whyte 2019).Nørgård and Bengtsen (2016: 9) signal a broader reach in their assertion that '… academic contexts are lived contexts, embodied and inhabited -education is taking place through the life and being there of university and academics'.

Campuses Reconsidered: Sacred Spaces for Belonging
Some idea of personal transformation underlies young people's notion of a university and their perceptions of themselves as students.The transition to university can signal an important point in young peoples' lives as they experience increased independence, new roles and greater autonomous decision making (Diehl et al. 2018).However, accompanying changes in living arrangements and peer networks can give rise to 'social loneliness', which has been shown to be prevalent among first-year university students (Diehl et al. 2018).In inviting specific forms of social interaction that promote meaningful connection, social membership and sense of belonging, university campuses serve as important social destinations for young people.
The idea of campuses as providing important social spaces is not new.Bennett's (2005) original call for a 'domestication' of library spaces, in recognition that student academic discussions take place in domestic spaces that have a communal feel such as campus halls and dining rooms, led to the early iterations of Learning Commons.Subsequent trends in campus and informal learning space design started to redefine universities as learning environments by placing greater emphasis on the promotion of student interaction and opportunities for learning in 'in-between, leftover, and non-teaching-designed spaces' (Carvalho et al. 2018: 41).Nørgård and Bengtsen (2016: 9) use the term 'placeful university' to refer to the shared values and interaction located at the centre of participation that '... springs from placeful qualia and place-making potentialities of a specific place'.Meaningfulness and belonging, it follows, emanate from being in place (at a university) with others.Importantly, the sharing of ideas and values are intertwined with students' 'perceptual-action experiences' of the material environment of the university (Carvalho et al. 2018: 44).Thus, an emphasis on campuses as sacred spaces for belonging provides an opportunity to reflect on the specific features of campuses and the ways in which they provide opportunities for social connection and support.
With a view to taking a closer look at how the university campus environment 'binds students to learning and social interaction in complex and meaningful ways' (Turkle 2015: 331), the qualitative research undertaken for this paper centres on young people's experiences of informal campus spaces.The objective of this study was to gain an understanding of how social reality and meaning-making is constituted by the everyday, situated practices of youth in a highly particularised and instrumental social setting.Originally, this included an exploration of how activities are enacted between and in relation to students and the role of the sociomaterial environment in configuring these practices.However, as will be discussed next, the disruption of COVID-19 had a detrimental effect on the original focus of this research, necessitating a significantly adjusted approach.

Method
Traditional research on students' use of campus spaces has incorporated a diversity of methods including spatial and observational methodologies, such as behaviour mapping and seating sweeps (Cox 2018;Given and Leckie 2003;Harrop and Turpin 2013), to more participatory methods that include diaries and photo-elicitation (Clark 2007;May and Swabey 2015).Such approaches are designed to highlight practices that 'become possible and impossible' with the production of space and spatial conditions (Jones et al. 2016(Jones et al. : 1129)).For this investigation, the original research questions sought to understand the ways in which young people are both producing and being produced by campus spaces, and likewise what forms of behaviour are being implicated in their designs.Using ethnographic methods, it sought to understand how young people negotiate this experiential realm with a focus on the embodied, affective, and relational characteristics of these settings.

Planned Approach
At the beginning of 2019, prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, a 3-year investigation into the role of informal learning spaces in a Japanese university context commenced.The ethnographic method of walkthrough interviews, combined with site visits and observations within one multi-level informal learning space at a university in Tokyo, was chosen as the most suitable method for understanding the complex interplay between space and social relationships, and the meanings and values students attach to both.

Walkthrough Interviews
Emerging out of symbolic interactionism, the walkthrough interview, variously described as 'go-alongs' or 'bimbling', is a hybrid of an interview and participant observation, whereby the researcher walks alongside participants as they move about their natural environment and engage in spatial-social activities (Kusenbach 2018).The method has been applied to research on neighbourhoods and community identity (Kusenbach 2012), health-related studies involving local areas and their role in shaping health outcomes (Carpiano 2009) and schools to examine children's behaviour in school grounds (Pawlowski et al. 2016).For this study, the walkthrough interview approach was considered a suitable match for getting acquainted with the experiential realm of the building, including any rituals and practices and how these might be enforced through the architecture, while at the same time enabling a reconstruction of how sense and meaning emerge in place through participant descriptions.It was anticipated that walking through the setting with students would stimulate an imaging of their encounters in a more immediate, tangible and affective way than having them sit statically in a room (on-or off-site) responding to questions.
By the end of 2019, participant recruitment was scheduled to commence when the pandemic rendered university campuses inaccessible.The chosen field site was closed off to students and the public for 2 years, with academics only having limited access.In response to these circumstances, a novel alternative in the form of digital walkthroughs was devised.This entailed purchasing a small handheld camera (Osmo Pocket) and filming the various areas of the building.The edited footage was then played for participants in a Zoom session.Once they identified a location of interest, the video was paused and a discussion concerning activities, attitudes and any limitations around access to or use of the area ensued.This continued until all five levels filmed had been viewed together.On average, each digital walkthrough interview lasted between 40 and 60 min.
While this improvised modification developed out of necessity, there was also a hope that the element of novelty would facilitate greater engagement in the interview process as the students were given the role of a tour guide.Similarly, the ability to have an immediate ('live') image of specific areas assisted with recall, particularly as the students had not accessed the building for over a year.A tangible prompt for the more affective dimensions of their experiences helped in eliciting the lifeworlds and social practices of the students.Another benefit of using video was the ability to skip ahead or go back to locations without having to physically walk, freeing up time.Finally, the absence of other students during the filming meant there was no risk of infringing on privacy.However, this meant the building in the footage was desolate, quite different to how the students would have experienced it the last time they were there.
On a few occasions, students spotted adjoining areas of interest which steered the conversation towards these peripheral spaces that were not included in the footage.While these occasions were opportune, they also highlighted the lack of flexibility requisite in pre-shot locations.Another limitation of the method was the need to use Zoom, which presented a significant recruitment barrier from an already over-Zoomed group of students.Despite the challenges and stresses this empirical 'pivot' engendered, the need to re-imagine the method provided an opportunity to explore previously unconsidered dimensions of students' experiences with and relationship to their campus environments.To this end, this alteration to the original approach was fortuitous.
The original intention of the research was to explore the use of campus spaces in a non-pandemic context.However, the unforeseen and dramatic change in circumstances that led to the interviews being conducted 1 year into the pandemic, at which time students had been away from campus for a year, meant that what commenced as a potentially uneventful investigation into students' use of informal learning spaces was transformed into an invaluable narrative of newly imagined forms of attachment that were previously unconsidered.Being deprived of access to these spaces forced a reframing of participants' meanings and connections to place, and these were often accompanied by a timbre of nostalgia and longing, that ultimately added a unique element to the interviews.

Case Study Context
The field site for this investigation is a recently-built 17-floor learning space at a high-ranking private university in Tokyo.Sophia University is renowned for its global education, with a high number of international students (1500 +).Sophia Tower was chosen for its hybrid, business/community/university characteristic.The upper half of the Tower is occupied by commercial office space.The lower five levels are dedicated to fully equipped classrooms, interspersed with study areas containing tables and chairs, and the occasional bench parked along a wall.The ground floor includes an exhibition space displaying historical and cultural imagery of Sophia, an 800-seat hall, a small café, and the Language Learning Commons.
Fifteen full-time students between the ages of 19 and 23 participated in this study.Twelve were Japanese, two Japanese and African American and Canadian, respectively, and one Sri Lankan.All were majoring in English studies/literature and other humanities subjects and had completed at least 1 year on campus (where they used the Tower approximately 4 days per week) prior to its closure.By the time of interview, they were in their second or third year.The research was conducted in accordance with both Tokyo and Sophia Universities' research ethics processes.Data was initially organised according to themes of the original research questions.However, as new understandings regarding the impact on students emerged, the data was reanalysed with a greater focus on the special meanings and forms of attachments students have with campus environments amid the significant alterations to their lives.The interviews were conducted in English and the students' responses are presented here without any grammar corrections.

Place Engagements
This next section provides an exploration of the various 'place engagements' (Franklin and Tranter 2022: 161), including the practices of belonging, as a framework to understand student encounters with and connections to the Tower.In particular, it shows how connection and sense of belonging to place are forged through social interactions and meaning-making practices, as well as an '… intimacy with its particularity, character and uniqueness' (Franklin and Tranter 2022: 160).This quality, as well as the performative and embodied character of attachment to place, was a key feature of the student narratives.This section first charts a brief level-by-level account of the Tower as narrated through the student interviews.

Socially and Culturally Coded Spaces
For the student participants of this study, shifting class, work and social schedules gave the Tower distinct importance as a site for social interaction, connection to community and a place to de-stress, unwind and recharge.Specific features such as ease of access, clean toilets, reliably strong Wi-Fi, availability of cheap food (and bins), as well as 'regimes of light and visibility' (Cox 2018: 1083), were all highly regarded.
The uses of the Tower vary widely, with spaces that support a diversity of activities being most attractive.To this end, the Tower serves as a 'transactional space' (Ghel 2011), with each level inviting specific forms of behaviour via planned and unplanned activities.The lowest level, Level One, was accessed primarily for its hole-in-the-wall crepe shop where students would seek out cheap breakfasts.At Japanese universities every morning between 7 and 9am campus eateries offer hyakuenchoshoku (100-yen breakfast) for students.Usually considered more on the expensive side, the creperie on the first floor was a popular option for students who lived in the dormitories or arrived early for a first period class.This desire to have basic needs, such as sustenance and rest, met was a recurring theme in the interviews.The rest of the level is relatively unremarkable, commonly bypassed by students.
Unlike the uneventful and largely overlooked Level One, Level Two was perhaps the most fondly viewed of all destinations in the Tower.This level was seen as a place to retreat from a busy schedule and find moments for relaxation and restoration.The mezzanine-type structure, containing no classrooms, is bordered by large floor-to-ceiling windows, each separated by pillars to create a series of inviting, semi-secluded inlets.This and the carpeted floor turned out to be highly attractive features as they give off a quiet and cosy atmosphere.Students who wish for reflective moments to release pressure, escape crowds, sleep, or simply watch the outside world from the vast windows, were drawn to this area.Previous research affirms students longing for spaces for conversation, community and retreat, as well areas to spread out near a window and power supply in a comfortable and calming environment (Harrop and Turpin 2013;May and Swabey 2015).
During certain times of the day, the frenetic bustling of students moving between classes, levels and an adjoining building created a distinctive quality to Level Three -the heart of the Tower.The constant traffic and activity gives this level a pitstop-type feel where students find moments to re-group, gather friends, or make quick adjustments to assignments at the end/beginning of a class.
Perhaps anticipating the high pace of this level, the designers of the Tower incorporated more calming elements in a vast, spacious atrium, supplying an abundance of natural light, expansive wooden walls and widely dispersed tables and benches.One student commenting on the atmospherics of Level Three noted it is '… not dark, but not bright … I really like it, it makes me calm, calm down, and … It's very, how to say "ochitsuku", like, we can calm down'.(Student 3).
Level Four is less of a central hub for student gatherings and more a solo lunch spot afforded by a cluster of tables bracketed off by a half wall.This level is perhaps the most unpopular of the five, due to a lack of direct access from the first floor.Level Five was mostly known as for its non-Japanese ('foreign') occupants.While it is the least accessed of all levels ('it is exhausting to get there', Student 14), those who did make the effort pursued mostly group gatherings, as the lack of nearby classrooms made it a semi-private space where personal topics could be discussed.

Restorative Environments: Found Spaces
In an overcrowded metropolis such as Tokyo, the competition for space both within and outside of the university borders can be taxing.The strong desire to seek out spaces to be restored characterised many of the students' uses of the building.This included repurposing found spaces or dead zones for rest and recharge: My favourite place is the place that I always take lunch and take a nap sometimes, that's my favourite place.It just simply calm and everything . . .and I think very important for me . . .we're in the city, I live in this middle of city I'm always surrounded with people and taking those packed train and then going to a packed school, so I'm really tired of people sometimes, and for me it's very important space to just take some time for myself and just be a little bit away from people.(Student 5) The attraction of carpeted areas for sleeping was an unexpectedly common theme.Its cosy appeal was conveyed again and again by students.Other unclaimed spaces such as empty classrooms or halls were utilised for similar purposes, and on more than one occasion students referred to a seemingly accepted custom of sports teams napping on Level Two after practice sessions.This all took place under the gaze of patrolling security guards who would repeatedly attempt to move the nappers on.That this was mostly ignored by the students highlights a curious tension between authority and freedom (rule-bending) within the Tower: 1 3 Journal of Applied Youth Studies (2023) 6:117-131 I think it's not allowed, but.Um, I use, I'm pretty sure it's, where, like the security guard kind of get, gets mad at us but, we use this space to like lie down and then sleep for a couple of minutes, or yeah, we sleep here.(Student 14) The fact that the students view a librarian as more authoritative than a uniformed security guard is indicative of how architecture enforces norms of behaviour and, in this case, compliance: In the library there's a sofa … but whenever we like, lay down, the librarian would come up to us and say like 'this is not a place to sleep'.But for the Tower I don't, I haven't had any concerns about that.(Student 9)

Evocative Spaces: Pride and Connection to Place
The interviews revealed a distinct affective attachment to the Tower.A deep sense of connection to place, manifesting in expressions of pride, was a recurring theme throughout the student narratives.Repeated praise for its newness, beauty and presence was common.Feelings of pride were expressed in references to the building as a 'spectacular' monument.Some would invite friends to visit the Tower and offered 'a little bit of tour guide' to show it off (Student 13).Some students noted how their friends who did not have classes in the building were envious.Part of this connection to place stemmed from how the Tower symbolised their achievements in gaining access to the university in the first place.Such strong ties with the physicality of the place are evident throughout statements such as: Building no.6 [the Tower] is one of my favourite buildings because the very first time that I used, the entrance exam is held in building no.6 and that the building itself is really high and spectacular and I was like 'oh I really want to enter this school' and that's where everything started . . .I have so many memory and that's what I'm part of proud of about uni too.(Student 12) Students actively and continually engage in forms of identity-making through taking photos and making videos.Occasions where spontaneous Instagram or You-Tube posts were created show how students practice '…memorialisation in and of place -an implacement of memory, feeling and capacities' (Duff 2010: 892).Studies have shown the role social media plays in forging a sense of belonging (Liu and Guo 2015;Vincent 2016).These performative and affective displays of belonging enabled students to express connection to place by depositing fragments of subjectivity, memory and purpose in various locations throughout the Tower (Duff 2010): Actually, we used to take a lot of picture, I mean, specifically, not only for Instagram, but like we wanted to take something cool, right?And building no.6 is one of the sophisticated place, right?It use woods and we liked that sort of vibes . . .and we used to take a lot of pictures here.And also for Instagram stories, we used to take a lot of pictures and movies here.(Student 12) Such sentiments illustrate how the affect of a space reflects the complex interrelationship between elements of space and resulting rituals and experiences that individuals bring to it.Duff (2010) describes affective atmospheres as being expressed through a converge of practice, co-presencing of bodies and the materiality of place.The Tower, therefore, plays a critical role in the creation of affective atmospheres by presenting certain affective possibilities, which in turn can inform practices and activities that are realisable in that space.Importantly, and as exemplified in the student accounts, these can be 'refashioned anew' depending on the practices taking place within (Duff 2010: 891).

'Party' People
The carpeted space under the escalators is bordered by a low ledge wide enough for sitting.The underside of the escalators is backlit, providing an ambient, although still very public, nook.One student spoke of a sense of safety evoked in the area: Me and my friends used to call here as "kindergarten".Because, it's like a kindergarten or like child like playground … it's like, kind of like circled so I think we kind of, maybe feel like safe place, like we're inside of some circle.(Student 10) Both areas were identified as popular destinations for Faculty of Liberal Arts ('FLA') students.Frequently referred to as 'party people', this group is characterised by their English proficiency and being non-Japanese.Under the stairs and Level Five were regularly claimed by members of this group for chatting and sleeping: Um there's usually this kind of a pattern that FLA students are really distinct on campus.They speak English, they're really fashionable and elegant, and a lot of other departments are kind of envious of them, so when they sit around here, it makes it kind of unapproachable I guess.(Student 2) Some other department students I guess tend to refrain using this point because someone feel like isolation or something.(Student 13) Such practices of zoning or territorialisation by a minority group signal a performed social order.Although the Japanese students were reluctant to think anything was wrong with this sort of behaviour, they would not do this themselves: So, it's kind of like, not like Japanese, like foreign vibe, I feel like it's kind of foreign vibe because well -I guess Japanese, in my opinion, Japanese student tend to sleep down on the chair … I guess, my impression of people who use this are is like not, not, hmm is otonashi, is modest.(Student 13) Another student agrees, noting: Lots of people pass around but um, FLA people, you know, culturally don't really care others, what, looking at them, you know, if it's Japanese people I think hanging out there or taking a nap there, they will feel embarrassed or something because there's lots of people passing but I don't think there's much of that culture in that place.So, they, yes, I think they have no problem hanging around there.(Student 5) The 'cool set' appropriate spaces in a manner that symbolically accords to an implicit socio-cultural ranking.Indeed, spreading out on the floor for sleep and chatting for hours at a time is in part what gives them a type of non-conforming hub of coolness.In this way, the data shows how an unspoken cultural hierarchy is mapped onto different zones in the Tower.This is reflected in research by Reh et al. (2011), which found that just having an open space for students to congregate in does not resolve tensions and conflicts.Open spaces in classrooms, for example, can give a false impression of freedom and choice, and removing boundaries from learning spaces does not alter the social order, nor the discourses of power and inequality engendered within.This has implications for belonging, which is likewise often shaped through exclusion (McCann and Killen 2019).By illustration, Antonsich (2010: 650) offers a bifurcated concept as being constituted by '… the side that claims belonging, and the side that has the power of "granting" belonging'.As evidenced in the student narrations, recognition of differences between groups and concomitant uses of the space becomes the nexus for tensions and conflicts in identity and belonging.

Canoodlers
While the majority of students spoke about the Tower in terms of opportunities for connection and feeling like they were part of something, more than a few interviews referenced romantic engagements.Level Two was identified as a romantic retreat of sorts, as it afforded much privacy and thus freedom to discuss personal matters, gossip or simply engage in romantic relationships: I see a lot of couples hanging around here.I thought it was really cute because, again, there's not much places where, there's not much quiet places on campus and, you know, usually couples they don't like to be seen by other classmates or other teachers, so they would prefer to be up here where there's not many people.(Student 2) Such affective encounters reinforce the significance and value of space by providing a lived sense of belonging, while at the same time giving form to the meaning and purpose of the social practices that take place within (Duff 2010).

The University Campus as a Sacred Site for Belonging
Thus far, this analysis has revealed that the spatial configuration and atmospherics of the Tower encourage specific practices of belonging in the form of immersion in social life and the types of spontaneous activities, conversations or just lingering in the environment that such immersion gives rise to.Students want places where they can be part of something, among friends, or watch their surroundings whilst in a quiet place to relax and revive.Connell argues that student peers are an important resource for dealing with stress and providing support through exchanging ideas, encouraging one another, or simply sharing a joke (Hil and Connell 2022).It was these social intangibles that students would keep coming back to throughout their stories of experience in the Tower.
This broadly mirrors the findings from existing research on informal learning spaces that persistently highlights the importance of co-presence for students (Cox 2018).This desire to be around others evokes a sense of safety and security, which Harris et al. (2021) argue is a key part of belonging.The importance of safety and a sense of shared identity is captured by one student who notes: It's safe here because people around here, like people around here, we know, we kind of know each other.We see that we are like students, so no one is trying to take their belongings so yeah.Some people like leaves just MacBook, and at first, I thought it's really dangerous, but turned out like this is, stealing things rarely happened, so it's kind of safe place.(Student 10) One of the most important qualities of social relationships, according to Franklin and Tranter (2022), is the extent to which they offer a sense of belonging.That belonging, actively constituted through everyday performances and practices, including both meaningful and mundane daily habits, routines, rituals of membership and responses of individuals within their social networks and places (Harris et al. 2021), is illustrated in the analysis presented here.The campus imaginary narrativized in student responses underscores Gravett and Ajjawa's (2021) assertion that 'spaces and places matter to students' experiences of belonging in higher education … students may experience belonging at some times and not others, in some places and spaces and not others, and belonging becomes an individual, situated and sociomaterial experience ' (2021: 6).
That the interviews were conducted during the pandemic has enabled the capture of a set of particularised meanings and attachments through which students viewed their campus.The Tower was a significant part of a general experience of displacement from familiar and important places.As one student laments: Now I really miss my university life because, you know, at that time I really like to be proud because I can see so many friends (Student 12).These affective identifications with other young people and place, and 'the emotional and social bonds that come of feelings of being part of a larger whole' (Harris et al. 2021: 3), are central to belonging.However, such experiences of connection and inclusion are, likewise, contrasted by processes of exclusion.It has been previously argued that in placing an emphasis on forms of community and collaboration as if they are unproblematic, discourses around informal learning campus designs can disguise the ways in which these spaces might reproduce marginalising or exclusionary social practices (Berman 2020).Certainly, the existence of territorialisation and stereotyping of students who use certain spaces in a certain manner in this study, indicates a need for further attention as an area for investigation.

Conclusion
In the same way that workplaces are currently reviewing office spaces and work arrangements under a new set of social and economic circumstances, a similar focus should be applied to university campuses (Kane et al. 2021).This research has attempted to show how students relate to the built environment of a university, bringing into sharper focus their role as important social destinations for young people.The sweeping reforms to higher education institutions currently taking place provide valuable opportunities to prioritise the promotion of shared experience embodied in multipurpose social activity spaces.Drawing on stories of experience that re-affirm students' attachment to place and how their connection to the university has been tested over the past few years ('Oh I miss uni campus so much, I forgot' -Student 7), this paper has argued for the importance of a campus as a sacred space and how it is implicated in positive outcomes for young people's sense of social membership.In doing so, it calls for a deeper interrogation of the broader concepts and ideas framing our previously taken-for-granted understandings about the role and social purpose of universities within an everchanging set of conditions.
In light of the recent turbulences that severely curtailed young people's ' … capacity to perform and create the connections essential to cultivating a sense of belonging to place' (Franklin and Tranter 2022: 151), the question of how the pandemic has reframed young peoples' understanding of themselves and their relationship to the university remains worthy of further consideration.By using a Japanese university example, this paper has attempted to explore young peoples' emotional responses through the lens of attachment to place, imagined and real, that bind feelings to both the university and its built environment.The narrations presented here, although not originally sought, illuminate how the pandemic activated a different lens through which students viewed and made sense of campus spaces, including implications for social membership and belonging.
In a context where universities are continuously adapting to sweeping, and sometimes sudden changes, Connell's (2019) original question regarding what kind of university would be good to work in, study in, and fight for continues to be relevant today.Her model of the good university provides a possible framework for understanding the future social purpose of universities in a post-pandemic context, and the role of the material environment in this relationship should be a critical part of the discussion.The notion of a campus as a sacred space offers a springboard for future research.