That Girl from Derwent dwells on the value of religion this Christmas.
That Girl from Derwent has learned a few more things about prejudice since moving up North.
That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
So when a friend asked me to go along and help her STYC, I jumped at the chance to do it all again. Not having had the wildest Freshers' Week myself, I was itching to get out and show these new students just how partying in York was done.
Imagine my dismay when I realised it just wasn't the same. When I arrived at a college party to discover I was finding it all rather boring this year.
I rocked up to the block and waited to be let in with my enthusiasm decreasing by the second. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sit on my sofa and watch a film with a housemate. But I was worried that this made me a boring person. A bit of a fail, if anything. On the walk from my cosy house I'd run into hordes of freshers heading into town for a good time. Every other one clutched a can of something, whether alcohol or energy drink, and shouted to each other which bar they had heard was the best and where they wanted to end up (those who ended up in the Willow, probably didn't intend to, but it doesn't mean they didn't have an epic time.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to these things at all. In fact, I actively participated in them as lately as last term. But there's something different now.
When someone finally let me into the building, I went to meet my friend in the kitchen, recognising the familiar sight and sounds of about fifteen freshers participating in a drinking game. Now, I've never been a big fan of drinking games that involve tipping bits of every players' drinks into one jug, for the reason that I reckon they were designed by people who buy beer to allow them to drink other peoples' spirits: and I could see these freshers were just interested in getting as plastered as possible. I wasn't interested full stop. All I saw was a group of strangers that I had no inclination to get to know when they were drinking this amount of alcohol. There wasn't so much an age gap as an experience gap. I could see no common ground between me and these new students. Like when I moved from Lower School to the Sixth Form, I felt removed from the action.
This was when I realised I was glad I had missed the deadline to apply to be a STYC rep. Yes, I wanted to help the freshers, but I didn't want to be them. I had forgotten the quiet desperation of Freshers' Week. I had forgotten the forced camaraderie – I may have made some of my best friends in the first few weeks, but I also made most in the terms that followed.
Then I realised that I didn't need to go through the ordeal of Freshers' Week again. I already had the friends I wanted. And I needn't worry that I've become a boring old second-year because I can't be bothered with the binge-drinking and crazy amounts of enthusiasm for things I may or may not have liked – just because I want to do different things now doesn't mean I'm any less fun. Sometimes, a night-in watching a film in the new house with your select friends is what's needed. Sometimes a local that's not packed with students all looking for the cheapest deals is better than a night-out in York.
Personally, I think that I grew up more, and quicker, last term than at any previous point in my life.
I am not a fresher any more.
But that's okay.
Brilliant. You've described the feelings of nostalgia that many second and third years will be having at the moment and offered an interesting, observant opinion about it. Fast becoming the Yorker's best writer - you should get involved with one of the print papers if you haven't already.
Totally agree! As I fought through a crowd of freshers to get to the bar at Monty's last night, I thought to myself 'I'm too old for this'. Ironically enough, due to gap years and so on, a lot of freshers will probably be older than me.
"There wasn't so much an age gap as an experience gap." Yes, exactly. On the one hand you do sort of miss the excitement of first year, but on the other you don't want to go through it all again, because you're really a different person now. I agree with Lizzy, in that when I'm around freshers I do feel like Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, muttering to myself that I'm too old for this shit.
comment deleted by the author i completely agree with everything you have said. my fresher days were phenomenal but we all move on, relax, chill out and enjoy early nights with pj's and housemates in the end. i do feel its unfair when i get 'annoyed' at the roaring freshers and their stycs, but im just a grumpy old girl now and anyway, next year these guys will probably be thinking the same as us.
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