This post is directed at a certain Resident Director, in a certain building that I live in, with a serious superiority complex.

Allow me to paint this picture for you:

Not five minutes ago, I am walking back to my room from the dining hall—a cup of coffee in one hand, a plate of salad in the other, my book tote weighing my salad arm down at the elbow. It is evident that I am struggling with my balance on the icy terrain. I am close to the building, walking the along the windows that line the sidewalk, in fact. I feel the heavy footsteps of someone approaching from behind; it is my R.D. He barrels past me, nearly knocking me to the ground. No “excuse me,” no apologetic glance. I finally compose myself and follow behind, assuming that when he opens the door, he will hold it open so I do not spill coffee. Because, isn’t that just standard manners?

It’s my greatest peeve, when people blatantly fail to hold open a door, and even more so when they ignore the fact that you did. Say “thank you,” or prop it open with your hand; it’s not that difficult. This irks me to the core with strangers, let alone my Resident Director, who essentially opened the door just enough so he could slip through, then pulled it shut so it would slam in my face. Lucky for me, I kind of suspected this behavior from him; this wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced his rude tendencies. So I stuck my foot in the door, salvaging the tiny gap, barely in time. It’s not like he didn’t know I was there. He did the same thing with the next set of doors.

Now I can understand if I was some suspicious character he was trying to keep out of the building, but he’s been my R.D for two years. In fact, we’ve lived on the same for floor for two years, and he doesn’t care enough to even know my name. I pass his open office door, everyday—pass him in the hallway, everyday—and never once has he offered even the slightest smile. Even if, by some chance of complete apathy, he didn’t realize that I was a resident of the building, did I really look that threatening? Perhaps, with my big bad salad, he thought I was hatching some sort of plan that involved lettuce all over the walls, and scolding coffee down the back of some innocent bystander’s shirt.

So here’s my point. Don’t be rude. Hold open doors. Say “excuse me” or “thank you.” It could really make or break a person’s day, especially if it’s your job in the first place to ensure a sense of community.