I’ll admit it, I was one of those student affairs professionals who happily declared themselves a “ResLifer for Life”; I might as well have gotten it tattooed on me. Well, good thing I didn’t, because I had the curious experience of being asked to leave residence life and, this academic year, step in as the interim Director for Religious & Spiritual Life at my school. It’s a good thing my job helps people with soul searching, because I’ve been doing a lot of it with this change in my life.
That said, I am deeply thankful for my time in residence life, but it’s been an amazing journey of learning for me in a new functional area. So, here are three things I learned in residence life I’ll take with me forever and three things I am glad I learned if/when I ever go back to residence life.
Part 1: The Perspective I Found Outside
1. Rapid Response vs. Emergency Mentality
In ResLife, we are conditioned to treat every phone call at 2:00 AM as a potential catastrophe. Leaving ResLife taught me a vital distinction: responding quickly is not the same as treating everything like an emergency. Outside of the “on-call” life, I’ve learned how to address student concerns with urgency and care without letting the stress of the situation spike my cortisol levels. If I went back, I would lead with a calmer nervous system, knowing that most “fires” can be extinguished with a steady hand rather than a frantic one. More on this below, but I am slowly beginning to un-program myself from being too stressed to stop.
2. The Radical Act of Leaving the Laptop at Home
There is a pervasive “martyr culture” in housing where being reachable at all hours is seen as a badge of honor. Since leaving, I’ve realized that the world doesn’t stop turning if I am unreachable for dinner or a weekend. I’ve started leaving my laptop at the office, and the result is that I am significantly more present when I am actually at work, and I’m a better human to those I love. This boundary isn’t a sign of laziness; it’s a prerequisite for longevity. If I returned, I would model this for my staff: that being a high-performer requires being a high-rester. I’ll also add in there that you should leave when the workday is done. I’ve had my share of 9 AM to 9 PM days (not even counting staff meetings) and I now know how much those were wearing me down.
3. Reclaiming the Joy of the “Task-Free” Connection
When you live where you work, every interaction with a student often has an underlying “need” or “task.” You’re checking in on a roommate dispute, verifying a floor meeting attendance, or conducting a conduct hearing. Stepping away has allowed me to remember the pure joy of connecting with students just because they are interesting human beings. I’ve remembered how to listen without a rubric and how to mentor without a checklist. This “human-first” approach is why many of us entered student affairs in the first place, and it’s the most important thing I’d bring back with me.
Part 2: The Toolkit I Carried Out
1. The “Swiss Army Knife” of Facilities Knowledge
In ResLife, you aren’t just an educator; you are a pseudo-plumber, an electrician, and a furniture mover. I learned how to identify a burst pipe before it flooded a wing and how to navigate the intricate jargon of work orders. This practical, “get-it-done” mentality is a superpower in any field. Understanding how physical spaces impact human behavior and productivity is a skill that makes me an asset in any organizational setting. When my new building had everything from a flood to a down elevator to a pest problem, all the way to exploring capital improvements, I am so glad my relationships and knowledge of our physical spaces had some ResLife training.
2. The Power of the Curricular Approach
Back in my early days of ResLife, I thought “programming” was just about getting people into a room with free pizza. ResLife taught me how to be outcome-driven. By utilizing a residential curriculum, I learned how to work backward from a goal: What do we want them to learn? How do we measure it? Applying this level of intentionality to projects outside of housing, and in my case, building out a curriculum around spirituality, ensures that I am never just “doing things” to do them and I am able to put some good design thinking into a space that hasn’t seen it before.
3. Navigating the Labyrinth of Department Politics
Few environments are as politically charged as a housing department. Between balancing the needs of auxiliary services, dean of students’ offices, and campus partners, I learned the art of the “soft ask” and the “hard boundary.” I learned how to read a room, identify stakeholders, and understand the unspoken hierarchies. This political literacy allows me to move through any organization with a map instead of a blindfold. While my new department context may be specific to me, these skills have helped me be my best director self and advocate in a nuanced way for my department and our students.
