<p>Ok, I’ll pipe up. I was an RA in the dark ages. Not only had to pay for room and board (rendering my net pay a staggering $150 a quarter in 1982 dollars), but I had to share a 10x12 cement block cubicle with a roommate.</p>
<p>Training was one night a week focused on respecting individuals’ choices and not being judgmental. Suicide? Depression? Tutoring? Date rape? Pregnancy? STDs? Never mentioned. I was on a 24-hour visitation floor, which was defined as “boys can’t bring a teddy bear or toothbrush.” </p>
<p>Heck, I was the <em>RA</em> and a drunk roommate brought home a guy in the week hours before one of my finals! I had to tell her the next day what she had done because she had no recollection. Also had a chat about whether we should arrange for “private time” for each of us so she could have visitors. (It is hard being a RA’s roommate.) Once had a parent call the dorm head to complain that the D’s roommate was bringing her BF over on weekends when the roomie was gone. I was there every weekend – never saw the BF. </p>
<p>Being an RA was a tough job – lots of perceived responsibility, no authority. Turnover was incredibly high. Eventually the school revamped the position, got the RAs some REAL training, paid a decent wage and gave them private rooms. Every school has a different vision of the role an RA plays, and I think to say that the RA has more of an integral role than in the past. I can say that in the two years I was an RA on a freshman floor, I never heard from parents about roomie issues, grades, drinking/mental health concerns, etc. We were just not in the loop. I had an open door policy and folks felt comfortable talking to me, and I made a point of informing myself about various issues, but at the end of the day, short of an immediate suicide threat, my hands were fairly well tied.</p>