Housing professionals are well accustomed to the process of handling a crisis. When your work involves maintaining the everyday homeostasis and safety of an unpredictable community, your ability to maintain calm and handle a situation can become almost uncanny. In our roles, we encounter a variety of urgent issues, from the most ridiculous of situations to some of the most dangerous emergencies. But what happens when the tables turn and we are at the center of said emergency? Recently, this is a challenge that I unexpectedly have had to encounter.
As winter break came to a close and the spring semester came to a fresh start, my excitement to set a new standard for myself and my work in my final semester of graduate school was at an all time high. At the time of my return, I was still in the midst of recovering from an infection that blocked my ears. Though I was battling with the possibility of depleted hearing and a seemingly never ending bout of vertigo, I decided to proceed into the semester with positivity. The recovery was slow, and I couldn’t have imagined how my life would change moving forward. But things changed faster than I could have ever imagined.
At the end of January, I suffered an occurrence of presyncope in my on campus apartment. If you aren’t familiar with presyncope, it can be a very scary experience. Your world starts spinning, something feels strange, and suddenly your vision goes black and you’re on the floor. Although I had felt weak before this happened, I was almost positive that I was on the road towards recovery from my previous condition. Instead, a journey that I didn’t expect for my last semester was ahead.
In the past 2 months, I’ve been to the emergency room twice and have had my blood drawn multiple times. I’m set to see all types of doctors, from cardiologists and neurologists to physical therapists and immunologists. This has all been on my journey of dealing with dysautonomia, or a dysfunction in my nervous system. At the end of March, my cardiologist diagnosed me with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic condition that falls under the umbrella of dysautonomia. The more serious my situation became, the more I wondered what it meant for my role as an Assistant Hall Director.
My journey to a new normal is still in progress. But my experience has since opened my eyes to many things, and changed how I go about my role.
Being Honest with Myself and Others
As someone who now deals with a chronic illness, I have a lot of relearning to do of how to approach self-care. The topic of balancing work, play, and self-care is not a new subject for housing professionals. My experience made me realize how much I neglected to practice what I preach. Oftentimes, our occupational roles require those extra hours, the extra mile; we put off our exhaustion for that one extra task that might assist a student. Personally, I became comfortable with often pushing myself past limits for the sake of others. While compassion and helpfulness are primary characteristics that make our jobs unique, this is not always a healthy approach to work.
Intentionally pushing past limits will result in worse outcomes for me now. If I don’t prepare to overexert myself, my body will remind me the next day that I have my limitations, and that surpassing those limits means consequences. Although not everyone has the same limitations, I believe that this rule applies to us all. Each of us should learn to recognize what our limits are. What are your signs of burnout? How does your body respond to stress? When does a ‘yes’ need to become a ‘no’? While these can be difficult questions to navigate, knowing the answers to them will prove helpful in navigating the balance of the building’s demands and your personhood. Furthermore, you’ll be able to improve your communication with your staff. The ability to be honest and say that you’ve reached a limit or lack the capacity is a skill, and while it can be a nerve wracking conversation to have, a positive environment will cultivate space for professionals, both paraprofessionals and senior staff members, to be open about it within reason.
Community Support is Special
Many people outside of higher education fail to comprehend what exactly a Hall Director does. The common joke is that we plan the pizza parties. We laugh at this silly notion that programming for college students is the gist of what we do. However, it is a significant part of what we do. We don’t just plan the pizza parties. We create the community. We cultivate safe spaces. We build relationships. We inspire our students to create environments that they would like to see reflected in ‘the real world’ when they graduate. There is good humor in this lack of understanding of what goes on behind the closed doors (no pun intended) of the residence halls on campus. However, my experience showed me just how special the people who dedicate themselves to this field truly are.
Because of my condition, I was informed by my doctor that I was unable to be on-call for the time being, a huge commitment for housing professionals. Although navigating this issue wasn’t simple, the community built around me contributed to making sure that my health was a priority. Every kind word and moment of understanding meant the world to me. From beautiful get-well-soon flowers to check in text messages, I realized that I am lucky to work in a world where fostering community is a primary value of the environment. Much of what we do and discuss may seem silly to outsiders, but the kindness and dedication of the people in this field is often unmatched.
Ability is Invisible
Invisible disabilities are often discussed in passing in our world. As with many identities, it is difficult to understand the tribulations at play without having experienced it first hand. Within the past two months, things that were once simple for me became far more difficult. Suddenly, I became more appreciative of the ability to do things such as standing in a long line, walking to class, or skipping the elevator for the stairs. On the outside, I’m often able to project my same happy-go-lucky attitude. After all, I am still myself. My personality hasn’t changed. However, internally, I’m likely struggling at any given moment. I went from spending hours reading as a graduate student to having vision problems and brain fog from being upright, let alone staring at a screen.
The world around us caters to the able-bodied and neurotypical majority. This includes the buildings and communities we serve every day. Although many of us do the best that we can to be as inclusive as possible, my experience has shown me that there is so much about the world that many of us remain uninformed on how to improve. It isn’t our job to be physicians or therapists. But it is our job to ensure that all students have the opportunity to feel safe in their home, temporary or otherwise. Additional research on how to best improve your community is often required. Sometimes, this means going above and beyond the training that is possibly provided by your department. In the end, it will make a significant difference in someone’s experience.
Putting the Pieces Together
I still don’t have all of the answers about my health. There’s a chance that it will be years before I do. However, I certainly have more answers about who I am. Although I may not be achieving my professional goals in the ways I expected to at the start of 2024, I have developed professionally in knowing what I want from both myself and my professional work environment. I value honesty, balance, a strong sense of community, and a team willing to dedicate itself to inclusive practices. Although no environment is perfect, I can tell you from my experience that these things are most certainly feasible. Perhaps you have your own standards and ideals for your role in Residence Life. Just like we all have our own‘why’, we each have unique needs and expectations. I recommend that every professional discover their own and stand firm in their discovery. My journey may not be optimal, but it has led me to a strong sense of purpose and peace in the community around me.
