Why I hate first years…

Hate is a strong word. So I can confidently say that I don’t hate first years – far from it in fact. I think first years are cute, like a new puppy – excited, eager to please and completely clueless.

I clearly remember my own experiences as a first year student – finally being released from a strict school timetable and the constraints of school uniform (my own being a delightful brown and white barcode-stripe sack-style dress); the freedom of showing up whenever you wanted to and of course the endless 18th celebrations.

University undeniably marks the beginning of being an ‘adult’, but five years on from my own first and after careful examination, I believe first years are nothing more than pests designed to enrage other students.

Don’t believe me? Think about how often you have encountered the following situations:

How many times have you been required to take drastic and immediate evasive action to prevent yourself from running into the person in front of you, who for some unknown reason has decided to suddenly stop? I guarantee you it was a first year student.

Remember that time you were running late for your lecture and just as you hit your top power-walking speed a group of five people appear out of nowhere and begin to walk torturously slowly, blocking your path? They were first years.

What about when you were frantically trying to finish your assignment in the computer labs but all you could hear was a loud high-pitch voice talking about, like oh my god, how incredibly drunk they got on the weekend? First year. And newsflash first year – no one who is over 18 actually cares.

But even though I find first year students the most annoying part of university, and I’m not one to discourage you from joining the ‘I Want To Punch Slow Walking People In The Back Of The Head’ group on Facebook, they do have their good qualities. They are generally nice, eager to help out and it can be fun to open their eyes to the wonder that is Taco Tuesday.

So next time someone stops suddenly in front of you or blocks your path or distracts you with their boasting of exploits from the weekend – take a moment, breathe, and remember that was once you. And you turned alright, kid.