Probably one of the best things about freshman year is my Resident Adviser (RA).
You think I'm joking. You think I'm a scheming little twerp trying to literately shimmy my way into the favor of the person who could bust me straight to the menacing jaws of pro-one. But I'm for serious.
He's my go-to guy Saturday mornings when I'm hungry and the rest of my floor is asleep — late night studying, I guess. Many folks would rather brunch alone than with their RAs, but not I.
As I bounded and skipped down the hall, my stomach all-a-grumble for some Dewick scrambled eggs, he was right beside me. Some of the best conversations I've had about Vermont and grapes have been over hash browns with my RA. Of the 80 free meals he is given, I plan to be present for about 73.
Even when we're not eating, my RA is a great guy to talk to. He can educate me about what really matters in college. He made sure my entire floor was assembled in the common room as soon as Fall Ball tickets went on sale. He knows how to optimize wall space. How many freshman halls get info boards dedicated entirely to the fine art of trick-turning? He can even make the mundane interesting. Without him, I never would have been moved to crack open the gem that is the Habitats guide to on-campus living. Don't think you'll find me "waterboarding" anytime soon — I see you, page 39!
With a ballin' RA, I don't need to resort to hall sports to occupy my time. After I finish my homework at around 9:30 — see Mom, if I put it in print, it means it's true — all I have to do is step out of my dorm room, and bam! There's my RA's Transport Phenomena weeknight study group for me to pester. That's right. Through this study group, I've spoken to, like, five or six upperclassmen. Have you ever met any chemical engineers? They're kind of a big deal. I'm also now quite certain that I will never, ever take a class on fluid dynamics. The only place I want to see that many Greek letters is on a doorframe.
He expects me to act like a freshman. I don't have to put up a front around him and pretend to be mature or anything like that. I can tell him about my first-year issues, and he's not allowed to just roll his eyes. If I were to hypothetically go to him in need of something like relationship advice, I know that he would hear me through. Hypothetically.
My RA cares about my hall. I truly believe that he's not just in it for the tangible benefits. Not all singles are created equal, especially when some come with 36 rambunctious freshmen in need of taming. He enjoys doling out advice and pretending to care about quiet hours. He knows my floor looks up to him, and he's quite adept at being both a role model and a buddy.
I've learned that it's OK to build a friendship with your RA. They are more than just the resident disciplinarians; they're instant friends living just a few doors away. They're also basically obligated to be nice to you. So I'm not going to pretend that I'm only trying to get on his good side for the times when a Saturday night gets the better of me. He's genuinely one of the best people I've met here so far.
Anyway, if I was really in trouble, I would just trick-turn him a cake.
--
Hannah Furgang is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. She can be reached at Hannah.Furgang@tufts.edu.
