Send Your Kids to Vic!

I entered the University of Toronto as an Innis College student and Frosh was one of the worst weeks of my life.

As an introvert, the very premise of Frosh week was enough to make me uncomfortable. Chants, screaming, and hip thrusts aside, a school as large as the University of Toronto is enough to make any lonely freshman nervous. It did not help that all my friends had chosen to go to Victoria College, and I knew absolutely no one else at Innis.

A few weeks before Frosh, inspired by the Harry Potter theme, I had snuck into Vic’s weekend-long Commuter Orientation. It definitely helped that it was a smaller group of students — only 40 first-years — and that I went with a couple friends. I had found myself instantly at ease — welcomed by the leaders, rocking the Harry Potter trivia activity, and actually making new friends at board game night. There was space to talk and make connections, which I really valued.

Nonetheless, I was determined to give it a shot being on my own during Frosh week at Innis. I arrived with my sleepover stuff, ready to billet in a dorm room for the week. After dropping my stuff off in the residence — home to five silent first-year girls who looked at me awkwardly as I lay my bags out in their living room — I headed to the quad for the meet-and-greet.

I lasted about ten hours. After learning the (quite sexual) chants — which entailed a leader screeching into a megaphone, surrounded by hundreds of students — we proceeded to scream our way down to the Harbourfront for the boat cruise. I found myself herded, lost in the masses, and pretty much terrified out of my mind from all the noise. The boat cruise itself did nothing to alleviate the headache, as the boat was shaking from the earsplitting music. When I did manage to make a friend — the one redeeming part of the entire week — our conversation was interrupted by a leader shouting at us to dance and literally grabbing and dragging us to the dance floor.

When we docked, I made a beeline over to Vic, where my friends were at a dance in the Goldring Student Centre. The building was glass, so I could see the entire room and everyone in it, but access was reserved only to Vic students, so I stood watching from the outside — the first night of many that I would experience serious FOMO.

For the rest of the week, I snuck into Vic’s events as often as I could and went home for the remainder of the time. The environment there continued to suit me better. Not only were there many more low-key events, but everyone seemed so friendly and respectful of different types of people. The leaders and execs all accepted me, and there wasn’t a moment when I found myself and my introversion unwelcome.

The following June, I switched colleges officially. I became a Vic Frosh leader in the fall, and was again struck by the difference during our leader training. Vic leaders were specifically instructed to recognize different people’s needs, to approach students one-on-one to talk, and to break off into smaller groups. There were still high-key events such as dances and a boat cruise, but also low-key options at the same time.

Being a part of Victoria College has not only made my university experience more fun, but has also taught me much about how to treat people around me. The moment that most reinforced my love for the college came at the end of Frosh week, at the parade (which I had skipped in my first year). This most recent year, as a don, a group of us stood off on the sidelines shouting “Vic loves (insert name of college or faculty)!” as they passed us. Most colleges would respond similarly, reciprocating our love, but not all. One group in particular upheld their tradition of shouting back insults and self-praise, but we continued to keep up our loving and supportive chant as they passed.

I was so proud of being a Victorian that day, because had I been on my own, I never would have reacted in that way. It was a shock to discover how good being kind can feel, even if kindness is not reciprocated. As Rupi Kaur says, “it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations,” and this has been such an uplifting (though not always easy) concept to take with me through life.

In the highly competitive world we live in — in which millions compete for a handful of jobs — it is very easy to adopt a “survival of the fittest” mindset. Nowhere has this been more clear to me that at the University of Toronto, where I have been driven to unprecedented levels of anxiety and inadequacy when I consider all the fantastic things that fellow students are doing around me. But being a Vic student showed me that it is possible to be intelligent, driven, and kind, all at once. It is possible to be genuinely happy for another person’s achievements, even at the expense of your own, because there is no pride in being successful if you are not equally supportive of those around you, and cognizant of the privileges that enabled your success and of the struggles that impeded others’.

Vic taught me the value of kindness and reaching out — not only towards terrified first-years for whom it will mean much, but also towards those for whom it will mean nothing. Before coming to university, I would have thought it weak to not stand up to someone who had insulted me. I could not be more fortunate to have landed in a community that has shown me otherwise. Kindness is its own reward, and as such, regardless of the outcome, it is in itself something to strive for and to be proud of.

Photos by Sadia Awan