If you work in Residence Life, you’ve probably been at a family gathering or social event where someone asks, “So… what exactly do you do?” And then you find yourself trying to explain a job that somehow includes crisis response, student development, event planning, facilities management, counseling, and occasionally amateur plumbing. So, for everyone who has a friend, family member, or stranger who doesn’t quite get it, this one’s for you. Send this to them.
No, I am not an RA. You know, Resident Assistants, the college student leaders who live in the residence halls, plan events, help with lockouts, and answer their door at 2 AM when a first year student needs help? Maybe I was once, and maybe that’s how I fell in love with this field. But now, I supervise RAs. Or I supervise their supervisors. Or I manage housing operations, leadership programs, or student conduct and crisis response processes. The job title may vary, but trust me, it’s not just “being an RA forever.”
Yes, I do have wild stories. Roommates fighting over dishes or thermostat settings? Check. Students setting off fire alarms at 3 AM? Double check. Parents calling to argue about their student’s housing assignment? Happens weekly. And don’t even get me started on the things we find in rooms during hall closing. Let’s put it this way: people leave a lot behind. Every residence life professional could write a memoir that’s equal parts comedy, horror, and heartfelt coming-of-age story.
I’m kind of like a property manager and also kind of like a school counselor. I know when the elevators are down, when the air conditioning isn’t working, and when the water pressure suddenly drops. I can fill out a work order faster than most people can blink. But it’s also a lot of student development theory, planning big events, coaching students to help themselves, behavioral intervention, and the occasional pep talk that turns into a cry session in my office. It’s a weird mix of maintenance and mentorship.
Unfortunately, it’s not all fun and games. Working where students live means you’re also there when things go wrong: floods, fires, medical emergencies, and moments that change lives forever. I see students at their best, but also at their most vulnerable. I’m with them through grief, conflict, and crisis. Just like any helping profession, it’s emotional work, and it’s not for the faint of heart.
I have plenty of knowledge on a variety of topics. Plumbing. Emotional support animal laws. Infectious diseases. Fire systems. Alcohol and other drugs. Large-scale event planning. Mail and packages. The difference between a candle warmer and an actual fire hazard. The list goes on…
My job is mostly meetings. Staff meetings. One-on-one meetings. Accountability meetings. Collaboration meetings. Roommate mediation meetings. Meetings to prepare for big events. Meetings to prepare for and debrief the other meetings. If it can be discussed, there’s a meeting for it. And no, it could not have been an email.
I can respond now and panic later. Chances are, I’ve called 911. Multiple times. Maybe dozens. Maybe even hundreds. About what? You name it. Even when I’m off campus, I’ll be the first one out during a fire alarm, the person who instinctively gives EMTs space, and definitely not the bystander waiting for someone else to act.
There are a few ways you can support me. Listen to my stories and respond with shock (yes, it really was that bad). Give me a little extra grace in the month of August, and maybe January, May, and December too (to be clear, you’ll be lucky if I respond to a text then). And please, for the love of all that is good, set your ringtone to something different from the one on my duty phone.
It’s difficult, important, exhausting, and rewarding. This job is unpredictable, tiring, and sometimes thankless. But it’s also full of small, incredible moments, like watching a student grow into themselves, seeing a community come together, or getting a simple “thank you” from someone who made it through a hard year.
