Back to School

My elder daughter had an interview today at Manchester University and asked me to go with her, which of course I gladly did. Apart from the chance to spend the day with her and have her stay over an extra night beforehand, which is always welcome, it meant I could revisit the hallowed halls of my university years - or at least very close to them since I was a UMIST man.

We arrived early and wandered up and down Oxford Street for a few minutes taking in the University Precinct and the student cafe until it was time to register for the event. Most of the early birds seemed to have come alone or brought young friends with them and for a while I thought I was going to be the only parent there, but after ten minutes or so it became clear this wasn't the case and I relaxed a little on Natalie's behalf. Registration complete, the "ambassadors" called us up to Whitworth hall - a most impressive oak-pillared hall already laid out with lunch which we helped ourselves to, found a seat and sat watching the rolling Powerpoint presentation detailing the Life Science departments successes while we munched on our sandwiches and canapes.

After lunch students and guests separated, and Natalie went off for her interview. Us parents and friends were treated to a tour of the campus which I found very interesting given that I'd not spent a lot of time in "Owens" buildings. I was a little insulted to find that, since the merger of the two Universities in 2004, UMIST was now referred to as "the North campus." It seemed to belittle the achievements of that fine institution and reduce it to the status of an annexe. I was reminded of the agricultural department of my home town Uni - Nottingham - which is situated in Sutton Bonington several miles south of the city and always feels like a second class citizen. Now here was my old stomping ground reduced to a similar status. I was affronted!

Still the girl assigned as our ambassador for the day - Dannika - did an excellent job showing us around the main library, the students' union, the university precinct and health centre and the main life sciences block. I was struck by how much had changed in thirty years and how much had stayed the same. The demonstration plastered all over the union building concerned abortion being a woman's right to choose - exactly the same topic as we had campaigned on in the mid 70s - and in the laboratories, aside from the water and gas taps being colour-coded and the benches being equipped with LAN points, things were pretty much as I remembered them to be. Yet in speaking with Dannika I learned that her degree course was in a branch of Biochemistry that hadn't been invented when I was at UMIST. Back then, the whole subject had been lumped together in a single course. In the interim thirty years so much more has been learned that the course has been split several times, and now there are many different Biochemistry degrees one can study.

One tradition I was glad to hear hadn't changed was the Friday Night 'Bop' at Owen's Park hall of residence. Some things are worth hanging on to! When I found out this was still going on it turned me all philosophical, wondering why it is that good things have to change - or be changed by people who don't understand their importance. I decided that outside of academia (I hesitate to call it the "real" world) things often become jaded. If you are working at a job or in a company that is the same year after year, you might feel you have to ring the changes just to keep your interest from flagging. Students never hang round long enough for this to become an issue. Most people are conservative (with a small 'c') in nature and most degree courses are only three years long, so by the time a student has become familiar with a local tradition like the Bop, or even grown with it to the point where they take over its organisation and running, it's time to hand the baton to someone else who has arrived and become enamoured with the tradition and keen to keep it going. No-one has time to get bored with it and think it needs changing.

Returning to the main hall and reunited with Natalie, we were treated to a final, in-depth look at university and faculty life. I watched the glossy presentation with half my attention, but having already switched into philosophical mode I couldn't help but be distracted by the thought that this time next year my first-born daughter would be here, or somewhere very like here, spreading her academic and social wings and (if you'll forgive the mixed metaphor) swimming in a much larger pond than she is used to.

I well remember the excitement of those first few weeks at UMIST (sorry, the "North campus") and in a way I envy her the burgeoning opportunity. Only it's not envy. I wouldn't take her place and deprive her of the chance to do it. It's more ... second-hand excitement. Excitement at the thought of all the experiences she has to come: the new friends she'll make; the new things she'll learn; and the growing she'll do as a person.