I spent both my third and fourth year as an RA in Old Dorms. And, for the most part, I loved my job. The guys on my both of my halls were great, and I'm still pretty close with some of them.
I remember them, wide-eyed with wonder, on their move-in days. I remember watching them struggle through classes, get in trouble, break up with high school girlfriends, and even learn a few things along the way. This was a group of well-meaning boys who, despite exasperating me to no end, were also pretty endearing.
I loved when they suggested that we do a Secret Santa exchange during the winter holidays.
I loved when they let me hang wreaths on their doors and then decorated stockings with their own names.
I loved when we had fancy dinners in the Rotunda, but then stopped to take goofy pictures together in front of TJ's statue afterwards.
I loved when they left creepy (and thankfully inaccurate) predictions about my future on my white board.
I loved that the other RAs in Humphreys my fourth year were obsessed with Harry Potter enough to make our dorm theme "Humphrey Potter."
But don't be fooled: it's not always rainbows and butterflies. It's compromise that moves us along. (HA!) Yes, there are a lot of things that are not great about being an RA.
Sharing a bathroom with 40 guys? Not fun. Waking up on Monday morning to find four out of five toilets clogged with vomit? Not fun. Staying in on one weekend each month to patrol the halls for underage drinking? Not fun. Reprimanding 18-year-olds for breaking the University of Virginia Standards of Conduct? Not fun. Endless hours of paperwork? Not fun. Almost getting fired for taking a picture with my residents at an off-grounds party? Not fun. Living through the heat of August without air conditioning? Not fun.
All of that combined means one thing. You can better your bottom dollar that:
4. I'll never live in a hall with 20 other guys again.
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