The Art of Event Planning/Events 101/In Canva We Trust (and in RSVPs We Doubt)

Written by Lily Brown

There’s a very specific kind of panic that sets in when you realize your event starts in fifteen minutes and no one—literally no one—has RSVP’d on EmConnect. Maybe they’re just fashionably late? Maybe they didn’t see the poster? Maybe everyone in LB decided to collectively take a nap at 7 p.m.?

And then it hits you: you’re about to host a craft night for one. Cue “Me Party” from The Muppet Movie because it’s officially just you, your tool kit, and a dream.

Being an RA at Emerson isn’t just about bulletin boards and sign-up sheets—it’s about producing experiences. We’re creators at heart. Every event is a chance to tell a story, to experiment, to make something that leaves people feeling a little more connected than when they walked in.

No one tells you how much planning really goes into an RA event. It’s like being a wedding planner, a caterer, and a therapist all at once, but it’s one of the RA requirements I secretly (and sometimes not so secretly) love. It’s me, hi, I’m the event planner, it’s me. And let me just tell you that I’ve hosted some pretty fire events over the three years, from RuPaul’s Drag Race watch parties and Just Dance showdowns to Writer’s Block Pitch Fests and JackBox Game Nights.

Flashback to last fall when I was RA’ing out in L.A., throwing a “Fall Birthdays Bash.” To be fully transparent, the week I needed to hold this event was after my birthday, so why not kill two birds with one stone and throw the ultimate birthday party combined with a DH monthly tradition? So, I’m in the community kitchen, trying to inflate twenty balloons while balancing a mini cupcake tray in one hand and a roll of streamers in the other. A resident walks in and asks, “Hey, is the event canceled?” I smile with the dead eyes of someone who’s been taping decorations for an hour and say, “Nope! We’re just getting started!” Little did I know that over 90 people were going to show up.

And this seriously couldn’t have happened without my trusty sharing skills and my epic event posters. At this point in the game, Canva and I are like this (Please imagine me slowly crossing my fingers to show you how tight me and this inanimate digital platform really are). We’re in an extremely committed (and slightly unhealthy) relationship. Ever since I upgraded to Pro, the graphic designer in me has come alive. I’ve spent more hours on that pastel-filled, font-happy website than I have on my own homework. I can make a flyer for anything now. “Friendsgiving Friendship Bracelet Making”? Boom. A warm autumn gradient background, a cozy cursive font, and even dancing turkey emojis wearing different friendship bracelets.

Every RA knows the flyer-making struggle. You spend thirty minutes debating which shade of pink says “community,” move the same text box around seventeen times because it’s not quite centered, and suddenly your coffee’s gone cold and you’re spiraling over whether “Trivia & Tacos” needs an Oxford comma. (For the record, this is actually something that I would never spiral over because it absolutely does not. Grammar freaks unite.)

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten an email from my RD saying, “Hey, could you send me your event flyer?” and I’ve had to pretend I didn’t already make three versions of it—each with slightly different vibes (one aesthetic, one goofy, one that looks like a corporate training module). Call me Canva Montana because I’m designing the Best of Both Worlds.

“Please Come to My Event”

There’s always that one event that humbles RAs. You plan your heart out, you buy the best snacks, you make the world’s cutest poster—and then… no one shows up, and it’s flop city. Not even your residents who said, “I’ll totally be there!” in the hallway three days ago (we both knew this was the case, but can’t a girl rant?).

I once hosted a “Brainstorming Tea Party” and thought I’d cracked the code. I mean, caffeine and Insomnia Cookies? Literally Emerson’s lifeblood! There was no way this could fail. I brewed enough to power a small city.

Five minutes past start time: no one.

Ten minutes: still no one.

Fifteen minutes: my co-RA walked by, saw me alone, and said gently, “Do you… want a cup?” I did. I had three. (And did not sleep that night.)

But here’s the thing—you can’t take it personally. (You will take it personally for about twelve minutes. That’s normal. You’re human.) Sometimes it’s midterm season. Sometimes your event conflicts with a Taylor Swift album drop (I will never make that mistake again). Sometimes people just aren’t in a social mood. And then sometimes you host something random like “Bottoms Movie Night” and suddenly the lounge is packed and is transformed into a shrine to sapphic cinema. People are sitting on the floor, bonding over their shared devotion to Ayo Edebiri and the art of unhinged gay chaos. You’ll never fully understand the formula, and that’s kind of beautiful. Apparently, it’s Rachel Sennott, camp violence, and the eternal question of who’s the PJ and who’s the Josie in your situationship.

The Community Building Model

Okay, here’s where I pretend to be serious for a second. Let’s talk about theory! (Don’t scroll past this part—I promise it’s not boring.) The Community Building Model (CBM), AKA the RA Bible or the HRE Holy Grail, is what guides everything we do. It’s not about forcing people to come to your event; it’s about creating moments where connection actually happens. Ultimately, it is about meeting residents where they’re at—in the residence halls.

There are three main learning pillars—Individual Development, Community Development, and Social Justice. At the end of the day, that translates to self-awareness, connection, and inclusion. So, here’s how that plays out in real life, not just in our staff manual:

Individual development isn’t just about journaling your feelings (though, shoutout to those who do). It’s about beginning to identify personal goals and exploring values and beliefs. It’s also about developing life skills, especially now that many residents are living on their own for the first time. This could include gaining a basic understanding of resources for wellbeing in areas such as mental, emotional, physical, spiritual, financial, and academic health.

That personal growth also applies to us as RAs—understanding our own style is a key part of how we show up for our residents. Are you the chill “my door’s open” type? The hype event planner? The quiet connector? Knowing your vibe helps you plan stuff that actually works.

I realized I’m the “chaotically friendly older sibling” RA. My events only work when they reflect that energy—low-pressure, maybe a little unhinged, definitely snack-heavy. When I tried to host a serious “Goal-Setting Workshop,” it was a ghost town. But a “Make Your Own Vision Board Night”? Packed. Turns out the same content, with better marketing and less PowerPoint, goes a long way.

Once you’ve got a handle on who you are as an RA, the next step is helping residents connect—with you and, more importantly, with each other. That’s not just the second component of the CBM—it’s the heart of it all. The best events are the ones where people leave saying, “We should hang out again.” That’s the dream. That’s the CBM in motion.

Every event should have a “why.” (And no, “because I need one more event for my programming quota” doesn’t count.) Ask yourself: what are three things I want residents to really get from this? Maybe it’s relaxation before finals, learning about campus resources, or just getting people to leave their rooms for the first time in three days.

Not just because it’s required for event submissions, but because it genuinely helps you reflect on your purpose. It really makes you think about your community, challenges you as an RA, and creates an opportunity for genuine connection. Even something as simple as “DIY Bingo Board Night” can have purpose—creativity, stress relief, self-expression, sustainability. You just have to frame it right.

This one should be obvious but deserves repeating: not every resident feels comfortable jumping into big, loud events. Some need quieter spaces, smaller groups, or different timing. The best communities are the ones where everyone can show up as themselves, without feeling out of place. I try to host a mix—some chill, some social. The goal isn’t just attendance numbers—it’s making sure everyone can find something that feels like theirs.

In LB, we also love to create experiences that reflect the moment we’re in—celebrating the seasons, honoring national awareness months, and sparking meaningful conversations. That might mean spotlighting Black filmmakers and actors in February, uplifting women’s voices in March, or bringing attention to the “winter blues” in December.

In October, for example, the spooky season gives us a chance to mix awareness with creativity—like a Halloween-themed alcohol and drug safety simulation where residents can test out impairment goggles, laugh with friends, and learn how to make safer choices during the weekend. We’ve even partnered with the Nightcap Scrunchie Drink Cover team to provide kits that promote safety in a fun, accessible way.

As a RA, it’s not just about raising awareness. It’s about building a community that looks out for one another and doing it with some of that signature Emerson creativity.

Free Food, Free Merch, Free Credit—Oh My!

Let’s be honest: half of event planning is begging. Politely, of course. But begging nonetheless. We’re out here handing out candy in common rooms, slipping flyers under doors, making shameless plugs in the floor Slack channel like, “Hey y’all!! If you’re bored (or hungry), come thru to the lounge at 7 👀.”

You quickly learn the art of the pitch and find yourself saying things like:

“Hey, you should totally stop by my event tonight. It’s gonna be chill!”
“There’s free food!”
“No seriously, free food!”
“Okay, I’ll save you a cookie if you come.”

RA marketing strategies could rival full-blown ad agencies. But let me tell you that free stuff is the backbone of RA events. Free snacks, free merch, free anything. You could host “Tax Form 101” and people would still come if you said there’s free pizza.

Events? In this Economy?? Believe it or not, we get a budget—and we’re not just spending it on random stuff we think people might like. We hunt down the good stuff: local Boston treats, fun campus experiences, or cool activities that make people actually want to leave their rooms. And if you ever manage to get a professor or campus partner to co-sponsor your event and offer participation points? Congratulations—you’ve won.

RA event planning is basically a rollercoaster. You’ll spend hours prepping for things that won’t even last 45 minutes. You’ll stress about attendance. You’ll burn out a few glue sticks. But every once in a while, you’ll have an event that just clicks. The vibe is right, people are laughing, music’s playing, and you realize that you built this. You made space for joy.

That’s the magic of it: watching residents open up, make friends, and slowly turn into a real community. And when someone says, “Hey, that event you did last month? That was actually really fun,” it’ll mean everything.

Somewhere between the balloons, the Canva-induced carpal tunnel, and the mild existential dread of an empty RSVP list, you find yourself smiling. Because whether one person shows up or twenty, there’s magic in creating connection. That’s why I keep doing it.

And if no one comes to your event? That’s okay too. You still showed up, and that matters. Plus, more Raising Cane’s for you, bestie.