Snitches Get Stitches...

It's an odd code, this idea that "snitches get stitches" which seems to pervade the philosophies and mental dispositions of most Black and Latino Americans. I specify minorities because in my experience, White Americans have the common sense to point fingers, make outrageous threats and call the police if they know someone has committed a crime. (Sad, but true). On one hand, witnesses refuse to come forward because even if they do not personally subscribe to the theory that snitches get stitches they are relatively sure that whoever committed the crime does. Yet everyone complains that the authorities fail to respond and produce results whenever something goes wrong.

Why, do you ask, would I be concerned with this as a Community Director? Because a resident just reported to me that someone appropriated the Residence Hall Master Key, went in his room and stole $260 from his hiding place in the ceiling. Clearly this is someone he knows. He had to have told someone else where he puts his money. Still, the master key was involved, and this is something I have to investigate.

The only problem is that he feels that "it could have been... *cough* *cough*" Yeah, one of those. He refuses to name names. he only wants people to know that he knows a crime was committed. On one level I applaud his casual attitude towards the money itself. "It's only money," he says. But still...name the names man! Point the fingers! My hands are tied if you can't even tell where I should begin looking. I can search rooms if the purpose is to restore order. If there is a valid complaint and sufficient evidence, I can look. In this case, his door was locked and the money was hidden somewhere that you needed previous knowledge to locate. But fine, whatever. It's not my money. Snitches get stitches...please. We're not talking about pointing out the murderer. I don't care who killed Pookie or where Nino Brown's been hiding the drugs. I refuse to ever be afraid to name another...college student.

I can do all the things that are within my power to do. I can tighten security even more than I already have. I can change protocol for the handling of the master key. And...that's it, really. There were no names given, no information to check out because he doesn't want to be involved in the naming of names. Pfft. Me, I point fingers, and make outrageous claims like "This is a citizen's arrest." Then again, I guess that's why I still have all my stuff.

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

These Fire Alarms...

are going to be the death of me. Having worked in Residence Life for the past 13 years, I have dealt with my fair share of fire alarms. The main problem has always been that, in my first building (I have now worked in two), the smoke detectors were extra sensitive. There was an alarm that went off every day for at least the first two months until everyone realized how sensitive they were. And then it still went off at least once a week. for the rest of the year.

Over time it becomes like anything extreme but present in large amounts; i.e. sex, violence, gangster rap. You naturally become desensitized to it. As a resident, it's very easy to do. As someone who works there...I always had to fight the feeling. Because eeeeevery so often, it would be the real deal. There would be an actual emergency and I couldn't stay in bed. Over the past 13 years I keep having to remind myself that I am responsible for the lives of these residents. As a Resident Assistant, a Graduate Assistant and now a Community Director, they kind of rely on me. Luckily for me, I had a great mentor in the Community Director I used to work for, who would always get up. Two, three, four in morning, when it would be all to easy to roll over and trust that someone else on the staff would respond to the alarm. So now I can say....I get it from my boss.

Last week a resident set something on fire and threw it down the trash chute. Middle of the day. When the alarm system told me "Basement," it would have been easy to dismiss it and cut the alarm off. But then we would have had a problem. Because there was a real fire. Today however...just a contractor doing work a little too close to the smoke detector. And now I can't go back to sleep.

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

The Impossible Standard of Myself

I've worked at the same university, in the same department, for 13 years now. That's a long time to work somewhere when you're not yet 30. I've worked in a lot of different positions; I've been a Lobby Monitor, a Front Desk Receptionist, a Linen Assistant, Student Assistant, Conference Assistant, Resident Assistant, Residence Hall Staff Assistant, Graduate Assistant and finally a Community Director.

Every time I've been promoted, the very first thing I always have to do is replace myself. How to do it this time? I like to believe that I have been very good at this job. Maybe not the best, but certainly not the worst. But when it comes to replacing myself as Graduate Assistant, how do I find someone else with the patience, the firm belief that this is not just a way to pay for school but a way to make life better for others?

It really is the impossible standard of myself. I hope that I choose well. We shall see.

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

The Dance of the Pointing Fingers

Just about a month ago, I got a phone call from someone who had just been to my building to get out of the heat. He was calling to let me know that I no longer had a television in my lounge.

I was a little disturbed by this news. I mean...it's a 63" television. I don't understand how something that large works its way out of the building. It's not the heaviest thing in the world, but it is pretty awkward to carry around. Trust me, I know.

Later that afternoon I took a colleague of mine out for her birthday, and a few hours later the Dean of my Department, a man I often refer to as "my supervisor," decided to join us. I followed up on this television matter with him, and he told me that a television repair company had been hired to evaluate and fix the TV, (which by the way was/is broken), and that they most likely had it. Good enough for me.

Fast forward one month. I receive an email from the head of Environmental Management discussing the televisions in the residence halls, to which I reply "don't they have my television already?" Long story short, they do not. My supervisor had been copied on these emails, which led to the foundation of a brief argument. He's questioning me on policy and procedure. I assured him that policy and procedure regarding my hall had been followed. My hall is closed for the summer. The front doors usually stay locked, except for when the contractors are here during the day, and sometimes when the security guards are here in the evening. Also, for the past two years I've been discussing the broken gate and doors in the back, and the overall lack of security. In every weekly report I've ever filed, I've discussed how easy it is to enter the building from the rear. Why is this important? It's important because the lounge is tied directly to the back door. Either one of the security guards helped steal the television, or someone walked in and out the back door...with a 63" TV.

My supervisor, however, seems to only focus on the possibility that I may have left the front door unlocked, and that is the major problem here. He ignores: the fact that the doors are usually locked, that anyone walking out with the TV during the daytime would have to deal with the maintenance staff and contractors, and that anyone walking out the front during the evening would have to deal with the security posted right at the door. Never mind the fact that once you have a television and walk out, where are you going if you walk out the front door? Nowhere that doesn't look suspicious. Were you to walk the television right out the back, however, you could be in and out the building and into a truck in less than five minutes. There's also the fact that we have a surveillance system with a camera pointed directly at the front door. It doesn't record, but no one knows that except for me, my supervisor and the video people who came to service it. Anyone stealing anything would probably try to avoid it. But it's not like anyone listens to me. I'm simply an objective analyst.

Hopefully when he gets back into town he'll see my point. If he doesn't, well I guess I'll be joining the ranks of the unemployed. Lot of jobs on Craigslist...

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

Performance Evaluations

Last week I chose to opt out of my performance evaluation but my supervisor called me in today to have one. I don't think he really read my memo...

Anyway, after going through my first official Annual Performance Review I have to say that...I am not cut out for any position where every year I have to discuss my level of performance with you for the year. Even when you raise the fact that my score on the APR is tied to a raise you will fail to get me excited. I've done the math. A 3% to me right now means that I will make in the area of an extra $17 per week. My personality refuses to allow me any excitement over the price of a regular movie and a large beverage, or a 3D movie and a small beverage.

Besides the raise, I realized today that I am not ever going to be good at certain positions. Anything where we have to sit down and discuss how I did over the past year, even though we both already know the answer...that's ridiculous to me. We really could have been in and out in under 10 minutes instead of the hour plus that it took. There was no need to explain to me why he chose to put what he did. I may not be "The Great Initiator" when it comes to projects and programs, but the long nights that I put in with the residents and the time I spent trying to provide guidance to people who would never accept it in a typical manner are not things that are going to be factored into my performance, which means that I'll always look mediocre at best.

9 to 5s have never been my thing. Not because I think that I'm too good for them but because I think that I just can't handle them. My supervisor asked about my future goals, specifically how I'll be using my law degree once I transition away from this environment. Honestly, I don't think that I will be using it at all. I went to law school because I thought it fit my skill set, but I can't even begin to imagine myself.

Hunter S. Thompson said this:

As things stand now, I am going to be a writer. I'm no sure that I'm going to be a good one or even a self-supporting one, but until the dark thumb of fate presses me to the dust and says, 'you are nothing,' I will be a writer.

That happens to be exactly how I feel. I may never make it as a writer, but I certainly am going to try. Something else may pay the bills, but this is the only thing I know how to do. I certainly don't think that I can sit through another performance review.

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

Overworked and Underpaid...

As I sit here in this conference room waiting on this meeting to begin, on what is perhaps the best morning weather of the past three weeks, I can't help but to think that the subject of this post captures what it means to work for someone else.

Overworked and Underpaid.

It's not just true as a Community Director, or within the Office of Residence Life, or anywhere at my University. It is a phrase that could be applied to any of a million employees in America, or any of the billions around the globe. Working for someone else means that they will always put their expectations onto you, will always think that you're there only to pick up someone else's slack, and that you enjoy doing it.

Well that's not entirely true. Most don't care if you enjoy it or not.

I'm thinking about this because of the purpose of this meeting. It is a recent edict of "the higher-ups" that the Director of each residence hall needs to begin planning a course to be taught beginning this academic year.

WHAT? Yeah, I know...

There's nothing in my job description that said I would be teaching anything. When I went online, the only mention that I could find of Resident Directors teaching classes was as part of a study abroad program. As a Community Director, I officially manage a building. In managing that building I take care of and help provide for the growth of the residents within that building. My supervisor and his supervisors have taken that to mean a lot of things that it doesn't mean at at least 80% of the universities around the nation. We certainly do more than the Resident Directors at every other university in the District. I know this because I looked it up.

Really, there's a lot that I put up with simply because I don't care, or I don't think that it's really asking all that much of me. You want me to chaperone something put on by another department? That's fine. You want me to coordinate a weeklong activity that by rights should be handled by another office on campus? You know, whatever. But now you want me to facilitate/teach a class. Here I have to lodge a protest.

This is a department that has not given even a COLA (cost of living adjustment) in as long as I can remember. This is a department that makes us fight for raises and gives quite the clear implicit (yeah, I know...) statement that not everyone will receive, despite all the extra work that is always forced upon us. And now you want us to teach a class.

Sadly, this is not to say that I did not go along, that I railed against the machine and protested at the top of my lungs. I did. I designed a class just like I was told to do, because I know that some people would just use this as an excuse to either write me up or get rid of me altogether. Trust me, I know the problems my mouth can get me into. Having a job that under pays me is infinitely better than having no job at all.

As my colleagues finally begin to shuffle in, I end this post, with a clear understanding of something I once said to someone. "The longer I work here, the more clearly I understand that I need to be somewhere else."

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.

Battle of the Dorms...

It's that time of year again, as common sense and patience get thrown out in favor of more visceral responses, where men become boys and staff become children, all in pursuit of a plastic trophy that marks them not as the best dorm, just the one most filled with people who have nothing better to do.

It's not that I don't like our ResFest, which is how we at my University refer to our battle of the residence halls. I simply do not like what it has become, nor do I enjoy knowing that it could be done so much differently. 8 years ago, when the battle of the dorms was brought back to HU, the then-Dean of Residence Life had a very adversarial mindset. Rather than promoting unity at the university he chose to mold a week of events pitting residence halls against each other in a way reminiscent of professional sports. The slogans reinforced this: "The Ultimate Competition," "This Ain't a Game," "This Time, it's For Keeps," "blah blah blah..."

Since then, despite the fact that he moved on to greener pastures, the spirit of what I like to call "unhealthy competition" has remained. During ResFest, people cry. They whine. They get angry. They curse at each other. Shouting matches escalate into physical altercations. There are both sore winners and sore losers. And yet we continue to host these events every year.

So far this year we have only had our game night and our flag football competition. But they've provided small glimpses of what is to come. It's almost as though we put a veneer over the department every year for ResFest, and slowly but surely the cracks are beginning to show. It has become almost a tradition that the all-male hall I run gets into some sort of altercation with the other all-male hall on campus. Oh it hasn't been pretty. And it's already started this year. I hope that with my presence I can keep my guys in line, and nothing serious happens this year. I don't have the patience for it.

I don't want anyone to think that I have only a negative view of ResFest. I loved it in the very beginning, and even later when I couldn't participate because of law school. I just want it to be fun again. I want us all to compete in the nature of friendly competition because that's all this is. No one goes pro in ResFest. I understand wanting to win but in this case there's nothing on the line except pride, and pride goeth before the fall...

Let's have fun, everyone.

Legal Note: Opinions in this post are my own and not representative of the university I work for or the people I work under. All suppositions, presumptions, theories, hypotheses, etc. are my own. This blog is for entertainment purposes only, blah blah blah. There are purposely no names included in this post, and I have revealed nothing that violates either general expectations of privacy or the University confidentiality agreement, which, actually... I never signed anyway. All of that is to say...don't be trying to sue me.