Semester two is well and truly upon us. The best seats in the Ussher are, once again, sacrificed to some over-enthusiastic first years. Essays have been (mostly) submitted: the last-minute graveyard shift in the library consigned firmly to the vaults of memory, to be forgotten until the next round of deadlines when, having failed to learn my lesson, I will sit twitching on the second floor of the 24-hour study hall at 2am, equipped only with highlighters, vegetarian Percy Pigs and a healthy dose of self-loathing – tools ill-befitting the behemoth task of turning around 5,000 words in ten hours. But I digress.
The beginning of second semester in Trinity means Ball season is upon us. February 2nd: Science Ball. February 6th: Law Ball. February 13th: BESS Ball. And then, before we know it, the daddy of them all in April: Trinity Ball.
The ball culture at College is an exciting part of the social calendar. It’s a great incentive to break away from the usual going-out uniform of “jeans-and-a-nice-top” to dance the night away with your best friends and to have a night of glitz and glamour.
Do you really, on top of such pressures of College, need to worry about keeping up with the spending of your friends?
But the financial cost is often left unsaid. Science Ball is €50. Law Ball is €45 (plus an additional €45 to stay overnight at the hotel). BESS Ball is €65. Even Player’s Ball, a comparative steal, still rocks in at €25.
And then we’ll have Trinity Ball, last year a cool €87. And that’s not even accounting for all the usual costs: dresses, tuxes, taxis and drink.
To be clear, I understand that a ball costs money. That chicken and gravy won’t pay for itself, nor will the dodgy band belting out Ed Sheeran covers. Balls are a great part of student life, some might even call them fundamental. But what concerns me about these social events, and life in Trinity more generally, is how horribly expensive it all is.
We live in one of the most expensive cities in Europe. We are students. And yet, here we are, paying extortionate sums for a single night out – a night that might be the best night of your young life. But more likely it’ll see you leave early, frog-marching a drunk friend to McDonald’s on Grafton St in your sequined ball gown.
In Trinity, just under 25 per cent of people receive a SUSI grant, which means that many of us don’t come from families with a lot of disposable income. Worryingly, a recent EU survey of Irish students found that 36 per cent of students experience serious or very serious financial difficulty. We students do not, as a rule, have a whole lot of spare cash jangling around.
That’s why it starts to become worrying when our social scene begin to be built around horribly expensive big nights out. Do you really, on top of such pressures of College, need to worry about keeping up with the spending of your friends?
Social life is huge at university. There’s a feeling of belonging and of a good support system. It’s a place where you put the world to rights over skinny cappuccinos and find people who love both Kant and the Kardashians. And it’s full of people to equally commiserate and castigate with you when Microsoft Word crashes at precisely 23.47pm the night before you have 5,000 words due.
Trinity is a place where you put the world to rights over skinny cappuccinos and find people who love both Kant and the Kardashians
Social life is huge for students, but it’s something you have to work on. Sitting in while the rest of the law class guzzle bottles of corporate-sponsored red wine isn’t conducive to bonding or to a feeling of belonging in the class.
Yes, there are other, cheaper ways to socialise. I get that. Even these events can probably be done on the cheap – there are less expensive after-party tickets, and you can wear your cousin’s debs dress.
But my point is that to partake in college life fully and to be able to really get involved in Trinity’s social scene, the chances are that you are going to have to spend rather a lot of money. And that’s prohibitive: it leaves people out. It makes Trinity a less integrated, a less inclusive place. How could it not?
What to do? I’m not suggesting getting rid of “ball culture” – not for a second. And the reality of venues – and life – in Dublin is that these events probably couldn’t be run much more cheaply.
But I still think that it’s worth talking about, and worth being mindful and sensitive towards the fact that maybe not all your mates can shell out for the course ball this year. We need to keep looking at our diversity in Trinity: how we can continue to foster and build a college that isn’t just inclusive in letting people in the door on day one, but also in making sure that everyone admitted is able to take part fully in our social life – regardless of whether or not they’re ‘ballin’.
