“College is like a fountain of knowledge - and the students are there to drink”

I don't know who said the above quote, but dammit if whoever it was isn't write. Read on for more details.




We are entering in what I consider the most wonderful time of year in student affairs.....conference season.

People are all atwitter about their plans; what conference they are attending, how they're getting there, and who they're going to see. Spring just carries an infectious energy to it, especially now as a new professional, because not only does conference season give you the ability to stretch your professional development abilities, it's also the time to get out of being at work :)

I got hip to conference season 2 years ago during my first year of grad school when I went to the NASPA/ACPA joint conference. It was an amazing experience and I realized that I enjoyed nothing more than being able to be around a ton of other people that love doing the same other things as me. Last year I was at ACPA as a placement candidate and that worked out incredibly well, as I managed to keep my sanity and still have fun while interviewing what felt like non-stop. This year I'm heading back to ACPA again, looking forward to going to some sessions (I didn't get to go to any last year) and also enjoying be back in DC again. I'm branching out and going to another conference a little later in the spring, but I'm presenting! Something else to add to the resume.

Meanwhile I am also looking forward to spring break and closing up my hall. Everyone in my hall has suddenly lost all sense, and alcohol is flowing freely. They are shocked when they are written up, and I suddenly get flooded with emails asking how they can appeal such a charge. With such cut-and-dry situations, I wonder what they think they can possibly appeal - not only are they underage, but they're in a dry residence hall. The only thing that minimalizes the annoyance of having to follow up with all of these students is the amusement that I get in listening to their sob stories. I don't think I have a sympathetic bone left in my body.