Project LB

Written by Lily Brown

(Official RA Disclaimer: I am required to say here that I do not condone any parties that happen in any of the dorm buildings. Cool? Cool.)

Okay. Hi. It’s been about a month since everyone stampeded back to campus (stop running around in the hallways), and I need us to have a little community chat. Because whew. Friends…it’s been a lot.

I get it. Truly. You escaped your hometown. You’re back in Boston. You’ve reunited with your college besties. It’s cold AF, we keep getting snowed in like there’s no tomorrow, and suddenly everyone has the overwhelming urge to feel something. So yes, of course you want to party. Of course you want to feel alive. But please. I am begging you. Slow down, Speed Racer.

Being back on campus does not mean we go to partyville the second you’re back in the dorms. Now is not the time to immediately go full Rodrick Rules house party mode. This is not the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie, and there is no slow-motion shot of you walking through a trashed house while “Jump In The Line” plays. There is, however, an RA showing up to your lightwell looking deeply disappointed.

And don’t get me wrong, I love a good function. Just preferably off-campus, not underaged, and absolutely nowhere near the place I both live and work. Big ask, I know.

And yes, before you ask, this is sadly coming from recent experience. I’ve been dealing with more of this than you probably realize (feel bad for me fam; I accept sympathy in the form of Pick ‘N Roll). I kind of did this to myself by taking extra duty shifts in January thinking, “Oh, I’ll just power through now and have a chill semester later.” That was… optimistic. Incorrect. A mistake.

Obviously, I can’t spill all the details, but I am making it my personal mission to say my piece before LB gets Project X-ified. Rager or not, I do not want to show up to your dingle (single double dorm room). You do not want me there. Trust me, no one wins. It’s embarrassing for you, for me, and for my duty partner.

Trust and believe, I am NOT trying to be the fun police

Some RAs get a bad rap, like our only personality trait is party busting, which is simply not true. That stereotype is wildly inaccurate, and many of us were literally you not that long ago. We know what it’s like to want to blow off steam, especially when it’s cold, dark at 4 p.m., and your professor just assigned a 10-page midterm. We’ve been there. We are there. Half of us are also avoiding our responsibilities in very creative ways.

Before anyone gets defensive, pause. Breathe. I promise I am not lurking around corners waiting for my moment. Contrary to popular belief, RAs do not wake up excited to ruin your night. We don’t sit in our rooms foaming at the mouth, hoping the phone rings so we can sprint down the hallway like it’s the Olympics. Most of us would rather be watching Netflix, doing homework we’ve been procrastinating for an impressive amount of time, or having a mild existential crisis like everyone else (or maybe that’s just me, but still).

There’s a big difference between having a good time and accidentally turning the floor into a safety hazard, noise complaint hotline, or future group chat scandal. When we knock on your door, it’s not personal. It’s usually us thinking, “Let this be quick so we can go back to my bed.”

At the end of the day, RAs want you to enjoy your college experience and, most importantly, stay safe. We want you to make memories, laugh too loud sometimes, pop off, and have stories you’ll tell later (preferably ones that don’t involve incident reports). We’re here to make sure everyone gets home safe and that things don’t cross the line from fun to “this is going to be an issue.”

Be wicked smaht

I have to be very careful saying this, but if you, on your own free will, decide to hold or do something that might be toeing the line of community standards, your choices matter a lot more than you might think. And I’m not saying that to scare you. I just genuinely want you to be super duper uber safe. Not sorry.

Here’s the thing though, and I say this with so much love: you have to be smart. Not sneaky. Not lucky. Not hopeful. Just smart. And by smart, I don’t mean “hide it better” smart. I don’t mean “turn the music down when you hear footsteps in the hallway” smart. I mean actual, real-world, frontal-lobe-engaged, think-five-steps-ahead smart.

Because yes, technically, there’s no judgment… until there is. And when that moment hits? Oh, it hits. Trust is one of those things that feels invisible when you have it and extremely loud when you lose it. Once it’s broken, it doesn’t just crack; it shatters. In the wise words of Rowley, “Don’t call me. Don’t come by my house (dorm room). We’re done.”

Once an RA can’t trust you, everything changes. The vibes shift. The benefit of the doubt disappears. Suddenly, every interaction feels a little more serious. Every knock on the door feels heavier. That’s not fun for you, and it’s definitely not fun for us. We just want chill nights, good vibes, and residents who, frankly, respect us and their floor.

So if you’re going to make choices, think long-term. Think about the consequences. Think, “Is this worth it?” Because once that trust is gone, it doesn’t magically reset at the end of the semester.

The good ol’ help seeking policy

Super important PSA! Please please please know that we have a Help Seeking Policy, AKA Good Samaritan. It exists for one simple reason: keeping you alive and well. If things go sideways (and we mean really sideways), and you or a friend needs help, you should call it in immediately. No hesitation. No group huddle. No “let’s wait 20 minutes and see if this fixes itself.” Just call us.

When RAs or professional staff show up in alcohol or other substance situations, we’re checking in because we genuinely care about you and want to make sure you’re okay. I know I’ve said this a million times already, but it’s worth repeating: your safety is our number one priority.

That said, do not abuse this policy. This is not a golden ticket you can swipe every weekend like it’s a CharlieCard. If the same names keep popping up, yes, the school will notice. And that follow-up conversation? Painfully awkward. Avoid it at all costs.

And I’m going to debunk this rumor right here, right now: it is completely free for EMS to come check you out.

Yes. Free. Zero dollars. No copay. No secret bill at the end of the semester. If you’re transported to the hospital, that’s a different story, but don’t let fear of cost stop you from calling for help. Your life is worth more than a hypothetical bill or an awkward explanation later.

We want you here. We want you safe. We want you to graduate, thrive, and someday tell mildly embarrassing college stories that don’t involve hospital bracelets, IV fluids, or your mom finding out via an emergency contact call.

So, look out for your friends. Know your limits. Respect the shared spaces you live in. And on behalf of every tired RA everywhere: please stop dorm partying. There is a whole city outside of LB. Go explore it.