As I sit here typing this, I’m in my dorm room. But the building no longer feels like a dorm. COVID-19 has turned it into a ghost town. Both southside buildings that I oversee usually have a specific energy surrounding them. They’re filled with residents that bring laughter, positivity, ambition, dedication and of course, a little bit of mischief. Many of the residents are gone, practicing social distancing. I remain—to serve the few that are left. But without the residents, I’m just not a VA, so this is my letter to you, residents. 

I miss you. I never thought I would say this, but I’m wishing for one more crazy on-call weekend because I know I’ll never get that again. The silence here is deafening. Usually, I would embrace the silence with open arms, but now I miss the random screams, the echoing footsteps, the explosive laughter, the click of the doors unlocking. 

I miss seeing you all in the halls and getting to interact with you, even if it’s just a quick few sentences about how your day is going. I miss the random duties that it’s easy to find annoying—fetching the ancient vacuum, unlocking a door, filling out a maintenance request. Right now, I wish I had someone knocking on my door asking for one of those things. I’d happily embrace it instead of internally rolling my eyes.

I miss the energy that only dorm residents can bring to a building. It’s infectious, whether it’s positive or negative. I even miss feeling the suffocating stress in the air during finals or midterms. I miss hearing laughter down the halls that would usually keep me awake at night.

Residents, you bring a purpose to our job. Not having you here makes us realize how much we value you, even if we do occasionally have to clean up your vomit or deal with a fire alarm after you burn a pizza. 

This whole coronavirus situation has thrown everything into a state of uncertainty. Right now, we’re all living one day at a time because we have no other choice. It’s hard for all of us, that much I know. 

I’m thankful that I go to a university like Augustana that has made the right decision to practice social distancing in the midst of a pandemic. I’m especially thankful for professors who are going above and beyond what is expected to make sure the transition for all of us is seamless. I’m thankful for an area director that makes sure we all feel heard and cared for in a time when we’re overwhelmed.

When I first started this blog, I thought I would be writing for the rest of the semester about my crazy, unreal experiences of being a VA. Now, that time has been cut short. That, however, does not take away all of the experiences I have had. Most importantly, it doesn’t take away the relationships I have built.

So, in the thick of this seemingly dystopian world, just know that I miss you. And I’m not the only one. I asked some other VAs to chime in, and here are some of the responses.

Janet Guerrero, Solberg VA: “I thought I wasn’t going to miss my floor—the loud, drunk shenanigans of my residents during the weekends, the smell of burnt food or the massive booming of their music coming from the bathrooms—but I was very wrong. I enjoyed coming back to an empty floor at first, but I realized that after the first night back, I missed interacting with my residents. From walking down my hallway and greeting anyone and asking how their day was, to the open doors and friendly group gatherings in the hallway. I miss it all. I miss seeing my residents—even if it might have been a three-second greeting during the day. 

To my residents of Solberg 3S: I know this is not how you would have wanted to spend the rest of your first year—quarantined and away from all your friends and peers. But keep in mind that you will have three more years that I hope you will be able to enjoy and make many great memories. This is a setback for many of us, and many of our plans have changed because of it. It will eventually pass and (fingers crossed) everyone will get back to campus and see each other again. No matter what happens next, I enjoyed meeting all of you, and I enjoyed the privilege of being your VA. Please take of yourselves during this COVID chaos. Stay safe, stay sober and stay out of jail. Much love, Janet.”

Tess Munshower, Solberg VA: “My dear residents, I miss you. Over the past seven or so months, I have gotten to know each and every one of you as cherished members of our floor. I have truly loved getting to know you all, and every interaction with you was better than the last. As a VA, I’ve always considered my number one priority as making you all feel at home. Through door decs, floor events, random decorations in the hall, and even just saying a quick hello in passing, I have tried my hardest to make you all feel important and wanted. However, I had no idea you all would make me feel the same thing. I was incredibly nervous in August, standing in front of all of you at our first floor meeting. But from day one, your smiles, your waves from across the hall, and your fake laughter at my terrible jokes have made me feel a part of a family. While I may be home with my biological family practicing self-quarantining, I am greatly missing my family at school. 

I guess what I want you all to know during these incredibly bizarre times is that while we may not be living on the same floor, city, or even the same state right now, I am still here for you. Missing out on such a big chunk of your freshman year must be so disappointing, and my heart goes out to all of you. You have every right to be sad, so to you I say: eat that pint of ice cream. Stay in bed until noon. Spend 3 hours skyping your school friends. Keeping up with your homework is definitely important, but make sure you still are taking time to keep yourself sane. I know I am. I truly miss seeing you all in the halls every day. Love, Tess.”

We miss you more than you can imagine, but we’re thankful that we get to call you our residents. Remember that when everything feels like it’s crashing down around you that we’re still here for you. Always.