Hugh O’Neill ¦ Contributing Writer
Upon browsing through some pieces written by Trinity students one can often be left with a warm and contented feeling. The writer portrays the follies of their time in College, lacing the piece with anecdotes, both humorous and meaningful, but the same end result often prevails. The writer had a marvellous, well-rounded experience, the feelings of which they so endearingly pass onto the reader.
Ashamedly I have not had a brilliant College life filled with new experiences. Does this make me a pariah? Reading the writings of my peers in College publications may suggest so. Now you may think: why is this bitter idiot complaining about circumstances he created? If he didn’t jump into College life head first then that’s his own fault.
And you would be correct. It took me three and a half long years to finally come to a realisation that the majority of students make on their first day at Freshers’ Week: grab this opportunity by the proverbial… you know the rest.
I rationalized in my head that everyone in BESS had obviously already become inseparable friends, forming an impenetrable giant three hundred person clique, about which I could do nothing to gain access.
I had an unusual start to Trinity life. A ready-made excuse which I used as a shield against integrating into the College fold for two whole years. I started out as an arch rival of Trinity, as a UCD heathen. A CAO point anomaly, of which I was informed the day after my Debs, meant that I had been bumped up from Commerce to BESS, should I wish to make the switch. With my brain in a post-Debs vacuum, whereby all I could remember was the overwhelming swell of adolescent debauchery that prevailed the night before in the function room of a Meath hotel, and buoyed by my parents’ enthusiasm for me to take an opportunity that had not been afforded to them, I answered yes.
Those two months in Belfield were my safeguard from ever having to interact meaningfully with anything or anyone. I missed Trinity Freshers’ Week. I rationalized in my head that everyone in BESS had obviously already become inseparable friends, forming an impenetrable giant three hundred person clique, about which I could do nothing to gain access.
I dismissed Trinity in every way possible. I had a strong group of school friends, and being from Dublin it was easy to keep in regular touch with them. I didn’t attend class nights out, or look to join a society. My warped logic had led me to believe that only students from outside Dublin would bother making friends in College! This same ill-informed logic closed off every single society to me. With no disrespect to the Phil, Hist, or any other debating society, I honestly believed every society social occasion comprised of attending an endless number of debates. This was not something I had any interest in, especially coming from a school where first year students were forced to sit through drudging, predictable and poorly executed lunchtime debates. Thinking that the rock-climbing or DJ society involved debating leaves me rather worried as to how I chose to use my brain faculty not so long ago!
I existed among the Trinity eco-system as a background extra who rarely, if ever, had any lines. I revelled in my anonymity
Armed with my excuse and ready to swiftly silence any detractor who suggested I take an interest in College life, I existed among the Trinity eco-system as a background extra who rarely, if ever, had any lines. I revelled in my anonymity. I took pride in the fact that I wasn’t part of whatever Trinity was. I can only rationalize this as a form of late teenage rebellion; completely ill-informed ignorance and stubbornness with not an ounce of logic used to determine my stance on the matter.
My detachment from College life was compounded after I failed my second year exams. I then ceded from Trinity completely when I was doomed to repeat the entire year. This, I felt, was the ultimate injustice; to wear the conical dunce hat, to feel like Ralph Wiggum.
How in the world could I become friends with people whom I didn’t regard as my peers, as I had lived one insignificant year longer than they had! I mean, they were still planning their first J1…. I was booking my second.
Entering a new class should have been my chance to assimilate, my ticket out of obscurity. Instead I chose to hold Trinity at fault for my failings. I resented having to repeat for two main reasons (other than the fact that it was a completely avoidable year taken from my working life). Firstly, being held back with students one, and some even two, years my junior. In my head, I was older and wiser. I felt I didn’t belong among these mere children. How in the world could I become friends with people whom I didn’t regard as my peers, as I had lived one insignificant year longer than they had! I mean, they were still planning their first J1…. I was booking my second.
Reason number two was a whole lot more frustrating. Every day I was hearing miraculous but vague stories of how others in my situation were able to somehow bend rules, find obscure loopholes, or simply keep repeating till they passed. I was not among these miracles. The events leading to my repeat year were very blunt; do exams, get results, fail, do repeats, fail, repeat year. No arguments, no appeals, no year X.
This incident allowed me to further validate my stance towards Trinity; why should I bother with this place? After all it had chewed me up and spat me back out. I went through second year for the second time in a similar vein as my first attempt.
By third year, I finally regained a semblance of sanity. My epiphany was gradual. There was no eureka moment. I started to realise things didn’t have to be this way. The rumblings of change began when I started to see less and less of the five or so friends I had in Trinity as they were kept busy virtually non-stop with final year study. Rest assured these were old school friends. I had not inexplicably made acquaintance in Trinity by mitosis.
Just remember that it’s never too late to change.
When I realised the error of my ways, I set myself the task of changing my attitude towards Trinity. Fearing I had come to the party not just too late, but on the wrong day altogether, I struggled to etch out a personal presence within College. However my determination to leave some mark behind, no matter how insignificant, before I leave in four months’ time led me to write my thoughts down on a page. Those thoughts form this article. And this article is my one man resistance to the stubborn me from the past. When I didn’t care about Trinity I thought I would leave the place with no regrets. Now that I do care for it, having realised how wrong I was, I will still leave with no regrets. I’m just relieved I figured it out while there was still time to do something about it.
So if you, the reader, feel like I once did, just remember that it’s never too late to change.
Photo by Andrew Murphy
