Opinion: Don't Pity Me For Being a Freshman

Most male freshmen are preoccupied with thoughts of meeting girls, getting into Mod parties, and avoiding sausage fests. As a result, they flock to the Mods on weekends, uninvited, hoping to get a glimpse of Mod life. Usually, they are harshly ignored by upperclassmen "bouncers" or shown the door if they find a clever way to sneak in.

While the social scene at Boston College is exciting and attractive to me, I find the frowned upon aspects of it just as, if not more, enjoyable.

Sausage fests are a personal favorite as it leads to profound conversations with my peers and bonding time with people on my floor. Unlike the random upperclassmen that I have nothing in common with, I find comfort in the fact that we are all homesick and adjusting to new lives at BC.

Yes, I grin with pride when I get an invite from an upperclassman to a Mod party, but I got a grin to match when having lunch with inspirational upperclassmen at secluded locations like the Rat and Eagle’s Nest.

And I often find extreme bursts of enjoyment when my roommate and I bust out awful dance moves during spontaneous iTunes sessions, even without booze and girls, in our uncool Fenwick double next to the best RA at BC, Alan Lipchin.

My philosophy on freshman year social life can be best summed up in one line: The source of joy and ecstasy does not come from getting a foot into the door of a Mod party, but the long and exciting trek from Upper to Lower.

Recently, a group of benevolent seniors invited me to their Mods and explained how bad they felt for a freshman like me. And while at the moment, I was thankful for their sympathy, reflection thereafter made me realize that I was not in a situation to be pitied. After all, the beneficiary of pity must be in a woeful situation to receive such condolences.

Unfortunately, I have too much to be happy and grateful for here at Chestnut Hill: a wonderful floor, three classes and not living on Newton.

So hold onto your sympathy and distribute it to my brave, freshmen peers who decide to venture out into the cold and cruel party scene known as the Mods while I enjoy my portentous sausage fest back home on Upper Campus.

Featured image via Instagram/@bcgavel

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