Freshers’ Week: A final year view

A Fresher-less Oxford Road. Credit: Mr MPD @Flickr

So you’ve been at uni for two years but it feels like yesterday you first unpacked your bags in halls? Tell me about it.

I arrived back in Manchester yesterday to commence my final year here. I was here two weeks ago for some training for the student paper but oh, how different it seemed today.

Oxford Road was abuzz with new, eager students. I volunteered on The Mancunion stall at the Welcome Week Fair all day today and it was great to see so many students looking enthusiastic to try out everything the university has to offer. I remember the same fair two years ago. I got a bit snap-happy with sign ups and gradually had to unsubscribe from various mailing lists throughout the year. It’s a shame, I totally could’ve been a pro-Scuba Diver by now had I followed up my society membership…

I kept trying to get sign ups for writers today by telling them it’d look great on their CV. I may have then gone on to say it decreased the chance of graduate unemployment (ok, that was a bit ambitious), but I still whole-heartedly believe in getting involved with student media at uni. Even though I don’t necessarily want to go into journalism, I’m still picking up so many transferrable skills that makes it totally worthwhile. Plus, seeing my name inside the first page as ‘Sub Editor’ is pretty cool. Even if there is a glaringly obvious incorrect apostrophe on the front page.

Anyway, I’m feeling very old at the moment. I’ve been mistaken for a first year on numerous occasions already but my life seems to be taken over by sub-editing and graduate recruitment as opposed to nights out. Then again, did I ever really indulge in a true Freshers’ Week?

It’s my first candidate information evening for a graduate scheme tomorrow night. It’s an informal thing run through a recruitment agency but it sounds really interesting and looks like a great opportunity to learn more about the scheme and talk to those who’re on it. Well, it definitely sounds good enough to warrant the four hour return trip to London for the evening.

Here’s to the best, most productive year of university. And to not being unemployed in a year, of course.