When people ask me why I do what I do I have always felt like a simple reply never gave the answer justice. Yes, getting a free room is cool, even better when you get a discounted meal plan. Sure, it’s a great resume builder. Although, these are all good reasons, they are not the only reasons, and they definitely are not the best reasons.

Being a RA is a privilege and not one that most RAs take for granted. It’s not some job that stumbles upon us. It’s not an easy interview with a call back. To become a RA you must go through at least three interviews, be chosen from a select group, be assigned a building, and go through an extensive week long training. We are dealing with the lives of individuals. We are the people parents shake hands with when they send their babies off and most are leaving their homes for the first time. We are sometimes the first faces our residents see when they arrive to start a new chapter in their lives. It’s not something I, nor most RA’s take lightly. We have prepared for this. We have studied emergency plans like the back of our hands. We have practiced and acted out the craziest of situations so when the time comes we know how to handle it. We have stayed up late making upwards of 50 door decs to place neatly on our new residents doors. We have thought of and planned out programs and bulletin boards. When our residents arrive we are ready.

When I tell people I’m a RA they usually ask how many times I yell or write up my residents and to me that’s not what my job is about. Yes, there are a couple bad eggs and i’ve heard some pretty crazy RA stories but, like everything else the good ones far out way the bad ones. Our job isn’t to get anyone in trouble. Our job is to be there for our residents. Be there when they need a mentor, when they need a friend, when they need a little tough love. They often mistake that tough love for being “mean.” I remember my first incident where I had to send a resident of mine to the hospital because I felt like the residents intoxication level was enough to do harm. The next day I became the mean RA. The one people would shut their doors on when I walked by. At first I took it to heart and wondered what I did wrong. The truth is I didn’t do anything wrong. I started to wear the label “mean” as a symbol for something else. At the time of the incident I did what I thought was best, what my boss thought was best, what was best for my resident, for their safety, and for their future. If that made me mean i was ok with it i can sleep at night knowing that resident was safe.

There are moments that every RA goes through when they question why they do what they do. When the papers start piling up, the stress starts to overload, and you still have two more programs to plan. When you constantly worry about that one resident, and you want to scream it to the world that you too are a student. You want to tell all the residents that you need sleep too, and you need a little space of your own. It’s the moments when a resident says they hate you, or the moment when you honestly just don’t know how to handle a situation. It’s the moment when a resident self harms and you wonder if you could have done something to help, and you ask yourself “did I miss a sign.” These moments are scary and when they happen to you-you feel like giving up.

Let me tell you about the moments that make it all matter. It’s the friends you make along the way; from the people at the office, to the resident directors, and the fellow resident assistants. The moments that remind you that you are making a difference. It’s the moment your resident runs to hug you because they passed that test you helped them study for. It’s that resident that slips a thank you note under your door for staying up till 3am and just listening to them speak. It’s the resident that tells you, you made their day. It’s the pride you feel when that shy resident walks in with a whole new group of friends. It’s the feeling you have when your whole house makes it a point to come to your program just to be there for you. It’s the residents that color you a picture just to tape it to your door. Or the ones that tell you “hey, you made me want to be a RA too!” I can think of a million reasons, a million answers to the question on why I do what I do. Once a RA always a RA.