An RA’s apology to students with shitty RAs

‘But wait, I thought I was building community by wearing this RA badge now and then?’

I’m a resident assistant here at Purdue. If you’ve ever been a freshman, you’ve seen our kind stalking the halls at night, on the prowl for the slightest hint of marijuana, the tiniest clink of a bottle, the faintest hint of any sort of fun that might be happening behind the closed doors of a college dorm — or ‘residence halls’ as the butt-tight admins demand we say it.

Of course, the above supposition is ridiculous. Sure, part of our job is to address situations that violate the contract every residents signs when moving in (specifically regarding alcohol and drugs), but I’m not going to pretend like I’ve never used a more lenient style of professionalism. Moreover, being an RA is really less about enforcing policy than it is about building community.

A floor hiking trip is a great way to kick off a semester (apologies about the emoji concealing the identity of a fellow RA)

Buzz word abuse does not make a good RA

Honestly, I kind of hate that term — building community — just because it’s preached so much to the RA’s here during summer and winter training. It’s just become one of those buzz words any old RA can slap onto his or her resume. I imagine an overly sterile room, where an interviewer asks ex-R

A Jennifer about her experience as a resident assistant: “Oh, well, I built community with my floor with lots of programs.” (That’s another RA filler word, by the way.) “Yeah, just worked on making the floor one big family.” (There’s another.)

Again, it’s true those words are an integral part of my job description, but the reason they give me so much teenage angst is because some RAs who do next to jack-squat for their so-called “communities” will spit out those same words when asked about their position. That sad truth is a product of nothing more than these higher-up admins shoving that sort of language down our throats. It makes the shittiest of RAs believe that by simply being an RA and living in the designated resident assistant room, they somehow contribute to the success of their designated floor.

This isn’t meant to be a bash on the residential life administration here at Purdue, but maybe it will open some eyes up top on who exactly they are hiring to the position. I know some pretty awesome people who have applied to the position, and have been turned away without even a second interview. So I guess that means that those who get that next interview and eventually snag the position must be incredibly perfect individuals who will undoubtedly execute their jobs to ultra-lightbeam extents.

Yet, the truth is, there are some horrible RA’s. I mean shit-poor. As in I cannot for the life of me understand how they ever even made it to the interview process after they applied for the job.

 

Floor dinners are always a good time and a super easy way to get conversations going between residents

Once upon a shitty RA. . .

I have a really good freshman friend living in another dorm here on campus. Not only as an RA but also a brotherly friend, I care about her experience and perception of her first couple semesters here at college. I’m abundantly aware of how awesome my own RA allowed my freshman year to be, so of course I’ve done my best to have that same sort of effect on my own residents these past two years as an RA.

So it only makes sense that, when her first semester was underway, I would occasionally ask how her RA has been ‘building community’ on the floor. The answer she gave isn’t exactly uncommon among other dorm-dwellers: “I never see her.”

“Well what about programs?” I’d ask. “Yeah, she does like cookie-making stuff once in a while, but her door is always shut other than that.”

Wow. Unnamed RA, you fucking suck. Excuse my language, but you do. And here’s why:

Over the course of my time as an RA, I’ve dealt with around ten roommate conflicts (ranging from petty arguments to full-blown shouting matches). I’ve called an ambulance twice (one was for alcohol poisoning, another for a resident who was suffering from post-seizure effects). I’ve helped residents back to their rooms after they’ve wandered back onto the floor from some random party in a state of heavy intoxication. I’ve helped a number of residents with addressing the stress that college brings. I’ve stayed up until 4 a.m. as I assisted a resident dealing with suicidal thoughts.

But here’s the catch — everything I’ve listed above, I’ve done it all when I wasn’t on-call. As in, I wasn’t “required” to even be available to my residents.

So when shitty unnamed female RA (I’ll call her Lola, which to my understanding shares a Spanish root connection to the phrase “Lady of Sorrows”) keeps her door shut all day, every day, even when she is required by contract to be available to her residents, tell me how many roommate conflicts she’s resolving?

Sure, Lola might do the minimum amount of programs required of every RA, but when every single one is as lame as fucking cookie-decorating in her room — which by the way nobody ever sees the inside of — tell me how good of a ‘community’ she’s building. “But wait, I thought I was building community by wearing this RA badge now and then?” Nice try Lola.

Classy morning breakfast run to Mickey D’s

 

Being better is as simple as an open door

I have residents coming to me every single day. Yeah, it starts with programs, which is why I’ve taken them to movies, have driven them south to go hiking at Turkey run, have gone skiing with them at Perfect North — notice the lack of cookie-decorating (no offense to the good RAs who do partake in a cookie program now and then).

But, even if the programs are super engaging and draw a butt-ton of residents, it doesn’t mean anything if the days/weeks in between are met with a closed door. Whenever I’m in the building, I try and keep my door open.

My residents know to knock if I’m studying. I’ve put on solid programs. I’m lenient with ‘quiet hours’ —  by the way don’t get me started on those, just another great way for bad RAs to look like assholes while shutting down the opportunity for residents to go H.A.M. in Super Smash Bros late into the night after homework is finally finished. I make an effort to get to know as many of my residents as possible on a personal level. I have relatively consistent availability whether I’m on-call or not. The above means I’m interacting with my residents all the time. Not every resident has suicidal issues. Not every roommate situation produces conflict. It’s the small things — like just conversing with a resident after a tough day or chilling on the couch playing FIFA for an hour or two — that are much more common and just as important in the long run.

So, looking at Lola, and considering the remarkably amazing group of admins that went into her hiring, I can’t help but feel sorry for my friend and all the residents on her floor that might not have that someone to talk to. Loneliness in college is very real. Insecurity is as well. I’d like to give an enthusiastic shoutout to Lola for being there for her residents and doing her job — cue the heavy sarcasm meme.

At least I can sleep at night knowing that, if a roommate conflict is steady underway, or if someone needs to talk to through his or her symptoms of depression accompanied by suicidal ideation, or if a resident is seizing on the floor, at least Lola will be around and available when a resident rushes to her door for help.

 

On a less gloomy and angsty note

I’d like to give a very real, very authentic shout out to all of the RAs who I get to witness being incredible in their work. If you’re reading this, I hope you know, sarcasm aside, I am grateful there are individuals who sincerely care about the seriousness this job calls for.

Hopefully the higher ups can look to those individuals actually living up to their RA roles when future hiring opportunities arise, so we can finally bid adieu to all the Lolas out there. Our residents just deserve better.

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