Here’s some advice: don’t listen to ‘advice’

People who have already been at university for a while throw a lot of advice at those in younger years, particularly towards the freshest arrivals. Having had it shoved down my throat almost continuously for the month before I even got here, two weeks in I can now guarantee that most of that advice is bull. Well-intentioned, but bull all the same.

Some of it comes in the form of hand-me-down myths that not only students, but the press, perpetuate. There is a heavy focus surrounding the drinking culture of university that makes freshers think that ‘if you don’t drink at uni, you’re going to have a bad time.’

> ‘I Have Never’ is a great way to get to know your hall mates; but it is not the only way

As someone who does drink, I can tell you truthfully that yes, ‘I Have Never’ is a great way to get to know your hall mates; but it is not the only way, and the growth of this myth puts undue pressure on those sober students at uni.

Other advice includes the specifics of which modules you should take and what you should and
shouldn’t do. The problem with this is that it means the receiver of the advice moulds their university experience around the giver – university is meant to be a period of self-discovery, after all. If you want to take Medieval Literature, do. Likewise if you don’t want to spend a tenner on seeing Tinchy Stryder, just don’t.

The worst advice of all, however, is that you need to make the most of Freshers because “it’s the best two weeks of your life”. I don’t object to making the most of Freshers’ – it’s the clause that irks me. It places a pressure on you to spend every second laughing or drinking or embracing, with guilt following every pang of homesickness you feel. There is work you have to do and paperwork that needs to be filled out: you shouldn’t be berated for taking the time to do it, even if it isn’t particularly enjoyable.

Not only that, but if anyone ever says a period of time will be the best of your life, it makes me think how they must spend the rest of their life savouring the anti-climax. If your
life peaks this early, you’ve not got much to look forward to.

It boils down to this: you’re paying the fees, so you do what you want, regardless of advice. If you want to Skype your mum, do. If you don’t want to play Ring of Fire, don’t. The only truly useful advice you can give a fresher is directions or instructions on how to use the
washing machine.