On paper, all academic institutions – schools, colleges, universities – are the same. Lectures to attend, professors and seminar leaders to listen to (get off your phone now), dry theoretical literature to delve into, assessments to write at 4am – they all run under the same procedure. Yet, as identical as they might initially appear, each one of them is entirely different. What works in University College London would not make any sense for students at City, University of London and vice versa, or pupils of the University of Aberdeen could not relate to the struggles and jokes of those stuck at the University of Westminster, which was my home for three years. Here are some gifs that accurately describe being a student at the University of Westminster.
At some point, the university was subsidised quite a few coins. But instead of fixing the things that desperately needed attention or allocating the fund to various services, they opted for…changing the colour of the stairs? Our cone cells experienced a massive shock when they first saw the bright neon pink stairs. We all hated them at first but after a slow recovery, our eyes got used to it and the stairs became a popular spot for Instagram shots.
A.K.A. ʻʻthe only kind of email I receive is from the MAD Placements’ team and Karen Foster’’ of a minimum of five emails from each every hour.
On the day of enrolling, no one had told us that right here-right now is where the photos for our university cards would be taken. My hair was greasy, skin was having a crisis and my eyebrows were not sisters (or related at all for that matter!). Suddenly, I was sat down in front of a camera when I heard a click, the lady shouting: ʻʻNext!’’ and the next thing I know I was stuck with a mugshot for three years.
The weekly Messy Mondays always made for an even messier Tuesday.
When I first started university, I had imagined a long day in the lecture hall making notes of four, hour-long lectures in a row to then attend seven seminars and head to a workshop afterwards. That wasn’t quite the reality (though we did not complain) – most of the time our days would start at 10am and finish between 12pm and 1pm. But that certainly does not mean that we weren’t exhausted. A trip to Central London for a well-deserved brunch was a necessity.
In the hundreds of classes I’ve attended during my studies, there was not a single one where someone wouldn’t rush in the room 15 minutes late and say: ʻʻThe Metropolitan line…ʼʼ
The students of Westminster really do struggle with finding motivation and staying committed to studies. Less than a month in and the only 17 people (of the initial 150) to be present at the lecture theatre would be the guest speaker himself, 10 seminar leaders and six students.
I’m still convinced that the Costa at the Harrow campus was a scam. My soya latte was nothing but a disappointment every single time.
Fire alarm. At 10am. Every. Single. Friday. And we never really knew if we were ought to run for our lives or just sit there and wait until the professor, who’d been standing there looking very uncomfortable, could finish his sentence.
ʻʻExcuse me! Do you know how to get to…You don’t? Okay..’’ and ʻʻI’ve never been to this part of uni’’ -ʻʻNeither have I’’ are probably the two types of conversations you’ll hear the most. Many blocks, corridors and rooms have still remained undiscovered. This definitely shows what it’s like to be a student at the University of Westminster.
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