University of Virginia Library

Myths And Mr. Main

The concept of dormitory counselors
dates back a long time to the days of house
mothers, curfews, and visitation hours. Many
of the old restrictions and rules which once
governed dormitory-dwellers' every move
have been lifted, but the idea of counselors
has survived...at least until recently.

Under the old counseling system at the
University, first-year students were
guided through their first mildly
traumatic weeks away from home by an
upperclass student chosen (allegedly) on the
basis of his maturity, judgment, and
compassion to live with the first-year students
in the dormitories and be their counselor. He
was also supposed to maintain relative order
and to protect the University's property and
the residents from harm that could be caused
by destructive behavior.

In the past year, we have seen the
purposes of the system reversed by redirecting
the efforts of counselors (now called
"resident assistants") from ministering to the
personal needs of residents to catering to the
fiats–and whims–of the Housing Office.

The change has been a de facto occurrence
for some time, though, even if it has only
been made in writing in the past year. The
strange and often pitiable nonsense which the
Housing Office has mixed into its list of
legitimate rules and regulations have been
bringing counselors into conflict with the
Housing Office and Mr. Main for several years.
Counselors, often feeling responsible to two
interests–that of the students and that of Mr.
Main–began to turn more and more toward
the students. As this alignment of priorities
has become more the rule than the exception,
the Housing Office has come to exert
increasingly far-reaching influence on the
affairs of counselors, or "resident assistants."

But even under the old counseling system
there were shortcomings not attributable to
the Housing Office. Most notable was (and is)
the tendency for the program (whatever you
call it) to perpetuate itself and perpetuate
some of the inequities that have gone with it.
The philosophy that extensive interviews by
the present counselors will assure that the
best people succeed them is at best naive and
at worst inequitable. Those who do not fit the
mold which has characterized the counselor
here have had difficulty surmounting the
built-in barriers to their acceptance into the
program. While the program has expanded,
and the requisite manpower assures somewhat
greater diversity among counselors than has
flourished in the past, there is still a large area
where student politics of the "ass kissing"
variety can make or break a candidate.

The University could exhibit its collective
wisdom in killing another myth which is
seriously undermining the quality of work
done in all University organizations. That is
the belief that the more activities in which a
student engages, the more qualified he is to be
a leader in any of them. It is the myth of
impressive overextension in which people are
rewarded and admired for the quantity of
their endeavors rather than for the quality of
them. While hundreds of students are rejected
for positions on the resident staff each year,
many of those selected are in positions of
responsibility in other organizations in which
they are not able to do as good a job as they
might if they were not spreading their talents
so thin.

Another myth which hurts the University
through its small-minded denigration of
diversity is the idea that resident assistants are
inherently more qualified to lead in other
endeavors than non-resident staffers, or that
they are the most hard-working or
accomplished members of the student body.

It has become almost axiomatic, for
instance, that to live on the Lawn one has to
have been a counselor. There is more than a
little truth to the notion because there are
presently 24 former counselors living in the
Lawn's 55 rooms. That, we submit, is a major
over-representation of the resident staff
insofar as those who have excelled at the
University are concerned. [And, while the
secret as well as publicity-seeking societies can
choose whomever they please, it is interesting
to note that at least 10 of 24 IMP members
were (or are) counselors as are 16 of 24 Z
members. Who can blame students for
believing that one must be a counselor in
order to be recognized as having served the
University when organizations which profess
to reward service to the University look so
highly upon counselors?]

We do not, of course, suggest that students
become parochial in their choices of what to
do in college. Rather, we suggest that the
guiding philosophy of those in the position to
select resident assistants or any other student
leaders base their decisions on performance
and fitness for the job rather than on their
visibility.

The Liquifactionist Party several years ago
displayed posters for their candidates which
cited as a qualification for office the
candidates "charisma quotient." It was a
clever satire that was dismissed as buffoonery
by many people, while it really come quite
close to the point– maybe too close for those
people who think that pleasantness and
prestige should be the criteria for choosing
students for responsible positions in student
activities.

Given this University's affinity for
traditions, myths, and bureaucratic excuses, it
would be naive to presume that the inequities
of any aspect of the resident staff program
will be alleviated this year, but that does not
mean they should be ignored.