High School, you gotta love it. But seriously, didn’t you just. Everyone was just so kind and friendly, the work load was just right so that you could go and enjoy the precise sunny days in the sentimental summers spent with friends.
LOL JOKES! High School was an absolute bitch. The torture of double PE, the enduring pain of Biology, the long-lasting heartache that was Maths and the never ending sessions spent in the library doing fuck all, all amounted to the one thing; six years of hard graft with very little to show for it except a job for some, a college place for others and a university offer for most. Joy of joys. More work. But this being the goal, it marked a transition between the monotonous chore of High School and the ‘Real World’.
But with this mysterious ‘Real World’ came the expectation that things would be different than the utter joy that we know as the education system. We could say NO to crappy subjects that would have no relevance to anything we could see ourselves doing in the future, and NO to being forced into friendships, because heaven forbid we inadvertently offend what’s-her-face because she was friends with name-escapes-me, who you slagged off behind her back and then the whole world ENDED, etc, etc………And so you fly the nest, full of hope and expectations about the future, saying to your friends “Won’t it be sooo good to actually be studying things that we actually care about?”, or “I’m sooooooo excited to be able to just make a fresh start”. Ah, how cute and naïve we were.
The car was filled with useless crap that I knew I was never going to need but thought I‘d take anyway, fresher’s week began, drunkenness ensued (and continued) and friendships were made. Student life most certainly did start with a bang. And ended with a wallop. Lectures, tutorials….oh, I suddenly remember what it is we are actually here to do. Sigh. Not that that really affected the pure excitement of the whole thing. Sitting in a room with a group of people arguing about literature, or world affairs and politics, makes you feel like you have entered an intellectual Narnia. The main difference is that there is no friendly/horrendous/brutal/kind/encouraging (circle the one that applies to you or place another relevant adjective here____ ) teacher standing over your shoulder saying “Now, don’t forget this homework is due in A WEEK TODAY”, etc…Things aren’t spelt out for you. Another sigh. The main thing that you miss is ‘the fear’. ‘The fear’ stems directly from the pressure put on you by the above mentioned teachers of high school. The panic you get when you have a maths exercise due in on Thursday which you only started on Wednesday night doesn’t have a place at university because what is really going to happen? A harshly worded email about how you really should practice punctuality, or a shitty mark? Both you can decide you can live through if Tiger Tiger are hosting another banging Vanity club night and can boast £1 sambuca shots! But, as a student, going it on your own, you have to make the fear yourself. Easier said then done, trust me. Because, before you can even consider university work, you have to fill your mind with the conundrum that is the social network and were the hell you fit in.
Shall we take my own personal experience as a case study? Yes? Yes, ok then. I stay in university halls and within the walls of this very building there is a hierarchy, a rigid social structure where there are very few exceptions to the rule. According to this imagined and utterly nonsensical hierarchy, which I in no way advocate or indeed approve of, at the bottom of the “pecking order” are the social outsiders, the ones that sits in the TV room socialising with their fellow outcasts playing ‘World of War craft’ or ‘Dungeons and Dragons’, and not helping their cause at all by being, simply put, stereotypical nerds. Just above them are the ‘inbetweeners’ (a group to which I’m certain I belong, and I’m proud of it) . Now this plateau can encompass a wide variety of groups. For example, you will have the Christen sect, the indie kids, the arty group and the foreigners. Directly above them are the Medics. Now this group are separated from most as they believe themselves to be above everyone else. Direct quote from a medic to myself; “I know I worked harder for my exams then you did, you know, being an art student”. This medic friend failed the exams. All of them. But that is just a wee example of the ‘Medic Superiority complex’ shown throughout university life. But there is one group that the medics would consider themselves part of, indeed, they are probably roughly on the same level.
This group is the ‘Rugby Lads’, also know as the ‘Private Schoolers’. Don’t let the name fool you, this group does include girls too. The typical “But daddy, I need that pony” types. They rule the roost, or at least like to believe that they do. They are the university equivalent of the High School ‘plastics’. They are the ones that everyone either wants to be, or wants to be with. The ones that can blow a grand in a strip club in one night and view it as pocket change. This actually happened. People-are-so-crazy SIGH! The guys that believe that they can have their pick of all the girls, and never get an unfavourable answer. And this tri-level social structure is not without its rules. It follows a one-up-one-down policy. You may only interact with member of a group with which you are either on the same level or if they are in the group above you by one move or below you by one move. But, it is much safer to just stick within your own field. For example, an ‘inbetweener’ can acknowledge the nerd in the TV room without their right to hold a conversation with a medic or a ‘Rugby Lad’ being revoked. But for the social outcast group to dare speak to a ‘Rugby Lad’ would be the equivalent of social suicide. It just would not happen. In fact, if the ‘Private Schoolers’ decide that they want to watch something in the TV room, the outcasts leave, they have to move. No one makes them move, and no one of the top sector would ever tell them to leave, but it is implied. Coming straight from High School this subservient nature takes over. Unfortunate as it may be, it cannot be avoided. The hierarchy is put in place before we even know its happened and before we can do anything to stop it. All girls in the hall may have a crush on one of the ‘Rugby Lads’, but only a girl on the same social level will nab him. The rest are left to believe that he is ‘out of their league’. Like hell he is. But he thinks so. Power stems directly from confidence, and that group has it in abundance.
I will be the first person to hold up my hands and say yeah, this is bitchy and it is harsh. But who can honestly turn around, look people in the eye and say that one word of this is a lie? Seriously….Who? This is the harsh reality. It’s harsh….but true. They say that university prepares you for life, more than High School does (which isn’t hard), and if that is the case I’m scared. Does this hierarchy last forever? Will it follow you wherever you go, whatever job you end up doing and if so, do we just have to accept it? The sad truth is probably. No one waltzes in to their dream job which means at some point you need to start from the bottom up. The only difference is, in the real world, you have a chance to move up the chain. And that is a much more exciting prospect.
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