Every year (yes, academic AND calendar) I like to spend some time with my tarot cards as a point of reflection on what I’ve done and where I might need to go to live my best life. I think a lot about the messages that we can learn from the Major Arcana, which tell an interesting story of growth, challenge, and success. One of my favorite cards of the deck is the Fool card. New to tarot? Don’t worry, if you work in Residence Life, you know the feeling. It’s that specific mix of adrenaline and anxiety that hits right before Move-In Day. The building is (mostly) clean, the nametags are on the doors, and the RAs are fueled by pizza and nervous energy. You are standing on the precipice of a new academic year, staring out into the unknown.
This moment is perfectly captured by one card: The Fool.

Often misunderstood due to its name, The Fool is not about stupidity or ignorance. Numbered “0” in the Major Arcana, it represents infinite potential, new beginnings, and the leap of faith required to start a journey. For Student Affairs professionals who live and die by the cyclical nature of the academic calendar, The Fool offers profound wisdom on how to survive and thrive in the residence halls.
Here is what Residence Life professionals can learn from the spirit of The Fool.
Embrace the “Zero” State
The Fool is the card of the blank slate. In the traditional Rider-Waite-Smith imagery (the most common starter tarot deck), the figure stands at the edge of a cliff, knapsack in hand, ready to step off. They aren’t burdened by the past; they are fixated on the horizon.
In ResLife, it is easy to let the “ghosts of residents past” haunt your current work. We carry the trauma of last year’s conduct cases, the exhaustion of the previous duty rotation, or the cynicism from a policy that failed.
The Fool teaches us the power of The Annual Reset. To serve our new students effectively, we must adopt a “beginner’s mind.” We have to look at our buildings not as the sites of last year’s floods and fire alarms, but as empty vessels of potential. The Fool invites us to shed the cynicism that often creeps in after a few years in the field and approach August with the radical belief that this year can be different.
Check Your Knapsack: Travel Light
Look closely at The Fool card, and you will see a small knapsack tied to a staff. It’s tiny. The Fool carries only the essentials.
As professionals, we are notorious hoarders, both physically and emotionally. We hoard programming supplies “just in case,” we hoard outdated policies, and most dangerously, we hoard emotional baggage. We take on the emotions of our students, the stress of our RAs, and the pressure of administration, stuffing it all into our metaphorical backpacks until we can barely move.
The lesson here is essentialism. Ask yourself: What do I actually need to carry to get through this semester?
- Do you need to hold onto that grudge against the facilities department?
- Do you need to micro-manage that bulletin board process?
The Fool travels light because the journey is long and the terrain is rough. If you want to survive the marathon that is Residence Life, you need to declutter your emotional load.
Respect the Cliff (and the Dog)
The imagery of The Fool is precarious. The figure is steps away from walking off a cliff. Beside them, a small white dog barks, nipping at their heels.
Interpretations vary here. Some say the dog is a warning; others say it is a companion (I’ve been reading Tarot for about 25 years… finding multiple meanings is not uncommon!). In the context of Residence Life, the “Cliff” is the risk of the job: the crisis that happens at 3:00 AM, the student of concern, or the bold new curriculum you want to implement.
You cannot do this job without walking near the cliff. You cannot help students grow if you are terrified of risk. However, you must listen to the dog.
In our world, the “dog” represents your intuition and your safety net. It is the colleague who says, “You look tired, go home.” It is the gut feeling that tells you a situation is escalating. The Fool is brave, but a wise Fool listens to the warnings. Be willing to take risks in your community building but respect the boundaries that keep you from falling into burnout.
Optimism is a Strategic Choice
Perhaps the most striking feature of The Fool is their posture. Their head held high, looking upward, surrounded by sunshine. It is a card of unyielding optimism.
In the conduct meetings, room change requests, and roommate conflicts, it is easy to become jaded. We often see students on their worst days. It is easy to assume that every knock on the door is a problem waiting to happen.
The Fool challenges us to maintain a spirit of strategic optimism. This isn’t toxic positivity (ignoring the bad); it is the conscious choice to believe in the development of the student. It is the belief that the student who failed today can succeed tomorrow. Without that fundamental optimism, ResLife becomes merely property management.
The Fool’s Journey is Our Journey
Every first-year student walking into your hall is The Fool. They are standing on the cliff of adulthood, carrying a backpack of mismatched expectations, ready to jump.
As Residence Life professionals, we are the guides on that journey. But we must never forget that we are on a journey of our own. This semester, I challenge you to channel The Fool.
Take the leap. Travel light. Trust your gut. And keep your face turned toward the sun.



