Nothing brings more joy than those two magical words: Hall Closing! For live-in professionals, these delightful moments are what make the semesters of judicial hearings, 3am fire alarms, and residing with residents bearable. On closing morning, I can hardly contain my desire to use my boots to push out the stragglers. However, with the promising bliss of a quiet hall comes the inevitable annoyance of searching rooms and documenting violations.
With each year, our lobby and hall signs become bigger, brighter, and bolder. We want to ensure that EVERY resident knows when we close and that they need to get out. Yet, every semester, there are at least 5-10 residents who are still in bed or half-dressed when the RAs knock on their door for inspections. Their excuses are variations of “I didn’t know I had to leave” or “my plane doesn’t leave until the afternoon”. They beg, cajole, and argue with my staff until I am called in, which results in me yelling at them for not reading the notice they signed for, ridiculing them for holding up our closing process, and scolding them for harassing my RAs. One semester, I had a resident take 90 minutes to shower, pack, and leisurely leave her room, only to try to swipe back into the building because she forgot her Twilight books. Neither Team Jacob nor Team Edward won that day.
Whew. Okay, building cleared—usually 2 hours behind schedule. Now comes the interesting part. And when I say interesting, I mean mostly disgusting. Checking the rooms flagged by my staff for outrageous violations can be hilarious, bewildering, or just plain described as a bio-hazard. One would think that if the residents are old enough to live on their own, they are old enough to flush the toilet, toss their trash, or fold their clothes. If you are one of those people, you’d be WRONG. The short list of issues I have found include: pet squirrels, a molded mayonnaise self-portrait on the floor, and brown stained women’s underwear tacked to a bulletin board. You do not know vile living conditions until you have inspected a dorm room. Thankfully, I only take photos and send judicial letters. However, at times like these, the question begs to be asked: who raised these slobs?
For the parents out there, please emphasize to your children that cleaning is a part of being an adult. You may have spent their first 18 years doing their laundry, vacuuming their bedroom, and washing behind their ears for them. However, once they move into my building, they are expected, and required by the student handbook, to maintain a level of cleanliness. By ignoring this crucial element of parental responsibility, you are harming both your child’s development as well as the experience of their roommate. If your child is a pig, I assume you are as well.