Hello bloggers, the name is Jay Bazylewicz. I could be witty and hipster with my words and write to you about thedeep meaning of being an RA, but lets be honest we get enough of that in training. Nope, this post is like a sit down coffee chat with the girls, its the good, bad, and ugly truth about being an RA. We can share laughs, swap stories, and generally show our complete love for the job by complaining and acting like we don’t really like it. Isn’t that what everyone does to show their dedication? So sit down, take the polo off and slip in to your sweats, its about to get real from one RA to another.
The Ugly:
Lean in, a little closer, whoa whoa back up, this is juicy gossip but I don’t need to eat your ear. All good stories start out with the worst. No one ever starts a story with, “Kesha is completing therapy and changing her image”. Lord No! We all want to hear about how Kesha is struggling with drugs and an eating disorder. Or how the paparazzi got a nude shot of someone sleeping around. I kid you not, this is the same play out when talking to RAs. One RA will go, “You would not believe what my resident did…” and as we all know there is always another RA there to one up the story and say, “No no, get this one,”. It becomes a group of middle schoolers, trading horror stories like Pokèmon cards. Living on fourth floor Bigelow, so fondly called the clubhouse or 4B, I have collected the ultimate hand of Pokèmon story cards. Like all good stories, mine starts with a crazy Whitewater on any given Thursday and some of my residents going to “The Library”. The way most of the girls dress when going, it being a whole new meaning to “checking out stuff’ at the library. It was around 1:30 am and Netflix had taken me as hostage when I first heard some commotion. I peeked my head out the door cause by then my messy bun had a mind of its own. Not to mention my mascara had ran so much you would have thought I was trying to paint like Picasso on my face. I mean come on, I didn’t call this the “ugly” section for nothing. I saw three boys towards the end of the hall. Here’s an RA tip, if your residents yell out your name with a ton of sheer immaturity, I beg of you…DO NOT LOOK. However, I did and to my dismay there were three full moons that night on my floor. Before I could even get a word out to sarcastically sing, “Blinded by the light” back to the three bare butts starring at me, there was a tap on my shoulder. Now if you ever wonder what “turn up” looks like, let me break it down.
-Eyes wide
-Deer in the headlight look
-Some article of clothing so twisted, you consider giving the closet a map
-Strong stench of cheap alcohol and regrets
-The vocabulary of a toddler
Its at this point that you wonder if there’s any hope in humanity when you ask, “Whats up?”. What came next was a string of bad choices, “WewereAtAPartyAndHeCutHisFootAndWePouredvodkaOverItandSuperGlueAnd”. It was at “and super glue” that I drew the line. I rushed to the room, putting all weirdness aside and grabbed the glued foot. I am not sure what response I was looking for when I asked, “what genius thought super glue would solve this problem?” cause by the time they manage to spit out a decent answer, I had already looked up the directions to the hospital. This was no cut folks. This was like someone tried cutting a huge piece of pie out of his body. Of course like any great drunk person, his non sober friend said, “I can take you bro”. Nothing about this situation was pretty, in fact it was mess. It was then that it dawned on me what kind of importance I had. In training we hear, “ RAs are going to be the front line soldiers ensuring the safety of the floor”. However all those words never felt real. It isn’t until you’re in the moment that you realize that you can make a difference. If I wouldn’t have gotten his foot checked out, he would have had a serious infection. It doesn’t matter the chaos, the number of naked butts, or moments of holy ****, at the end of the day you can look back and know you made a difference in someone’s life.
The Bad:
Remember that contract that you signed at the beginning of training? No of course not. For most of you the excitement of deciding what door dec and programs you were going to make or for others it was the dooming sound of responsibility about to hit you over the head that made it hard to pay attention to anything. Especially the fine print. However it’s the fine print that will get you. Its not the behind close door scenarios you get trained on that will throw you, it’s the behind any door, on the stairs, while eating, or at Walmart moments that show you what being an RA really means. You see bloggers, RA doesn’t stand for “Resident Assistant”, it stands for “Really Anything”. If RAs were trained on what really happens in the job, these questions would then be added to the interview.
-How are your hair braiding skills?
-On a scale of one to I’m Dr. Phil, how confident are you in your therapy skills?
-Have you ever created peace in the middle of a civil staff, I mean war?
-What are the best pick up lines for students to use?
World, here it is simple: you are what the students need. I have had the duty of being “Hitch”, helping a resident set up the perfect date around Whitewater. If I do say so myself, I’m no Will Smith but by the sock on the door, I would say it was a success! I have been the fashion consultant, to decide whether it’s the skirt or if the tie really matched. 4B’s long hall makes the perfect runway and if enough people come or watch then heck it’s a floor program. I have been the professor, to sit down and teach material even Google cant answer. We all know we have had to be the life coach and have the “please shower and use laundry soap” talk. Late night movies, long talks, resume checking, advising giving, name for a reference, the list goes on forever. One time I had to be a nurse. A resident frantically knocked on my door at 1am. If you ever wake me up anytime after 12am there is no guarantee about what comes out of my mouth. One night I said, “Is it on fire? No? Okay see ya later suckers!” This night was no better. I cracked my door and blurted out, “You look like death bro, like Grimm Reaper, l’m not ready to go so come back next week okay Grimm?” He did too. His face was all green, his hands shaking, and there was a layer of sweat on his forhead like he he had spent the last four hours at the statefair in late July. No man should sweat enough to water a small garden. He said, “Jay its an emergancy, I don’t know how much Nyquill you’re supposed to take and I’m worried I will OD”. With two eyes barely open, I measured out 2 Tbs. Bloggers, I stand corrected, RA has many means. In this instance it stood for “Really Again?”. See folks, a week prior this same boy had walked into my room explaining that he did not know how much Ibuprofen he should take. Here is the thing about RAs we are really good at thinking one thing and saying another. I was thinking, no internally screaming, “Do you know how to read? Seriously Kid!” However I calmly said, “Let me show you where to find the information.” The next morning I woke up and couldn’t help but feel tired. We spend all day giving ourselves to the floor and staff without little time for ourselves. I had reached my low point and it was pretty bad. Ever get that Icona Pop song feeling, where you want to shout, “I don’t care!!” as you aggressively strut down the hall? I was there. I sat down and made a list of things I had done for other people. After completing the list I thought I would feel confirmed in my frustration and tiredness. However something odd happened. I felt proud like a breathing turkey on thanksgiving. Everything on that list was a skill I had. This job pushes you to your very wits end, but when it is all said and done, there you are with a list of new skills. So bring on the next challenge 4B, cause I don’t mind this list growing.
The Good:
This is about where my coffee cup dries up and the pile of sweeteners is about to tip over. This is also where our conversation has reached the point where I get a wee bit gushy. Like I said earlier all good stories might start out with the worst, but they always end with the best. I spent most of my life getting picked on. Hard to believe because if you know me, most would say I was pretty happy and confident. And shucks, I am for the most part but it isn’t always easy. I was never one of those “fitter in” people. I was always the kid who stuck out. You know at the Christmas program in elementary school, there is always that one kid who waves their whole arm off, giggles when it’s silent, and sings way off key. Every parent sitting there goes, “oh lord that kid is eccentric (which is the parent way of saying total weirdo)”. While my parents have their head so far lost in their hands mumbling on about how it’s a phase. Well if they were right and it’s a phase, its sure been a long one. I remember my first grade teacher talking to my parents during career day. Instead of saying a singer or dancer like the rest of the little girls, I proclaimed I was going to be a secret agent in the CIA. That’s how it always was, I was trying so hard to fit in a circle hole when I was a square peg. On every penny thrown into water fountains, every birthday candle blown out, and every star that I wished on, I asked the same thing. I wanted to find somewhere that I could belong. Its been three years now being an RA. As I look out onto campus I don’t see empty places. I see the baseball field where I watched my friends play a killer game. I see the tennis courts where I spent many afternoons hitting the ball around and talking about life with my residents. I see the table in the UC where a group of crazy RAs meet every Monday at 1pm just to eat and enjoy each others company. I see the streets lined with faces that I grew to love and watch grow. I can hear, see, taste, and feel a thousand memories all shared with old friends, past and new residents, staff members, and new friends. I know that this job allowed me to meet some of the most inspirational, positive, creative, and beautiful people creating a one of kind family. The best part is, when you’re with family you always belong. So here’s to you, all the new RAs, welcome to our family. We will love you through the good, bad, and ugly.
Thank you Jay for your contribution and your creative reflection. 