As the day of my induction into adulthood rushes towards me, I can’t help but wonder on how I ended up in a place like this. A castle.
As a kid, I guess everyone (no matter how vehemently they deny it today) waited for their Hogwarts letter, wishing that a gargantuan, umbrella-toting bikie would break down the door of their rented lighthouse, punish an abusive sibling with hoggish anatomical attributes, and invite them to live in a magic castle. Lets be honest here; not even Hagrid’s gruff bedside manner or grammatical ineptitude could detract from the the charm of living in a castle with hundreds of other wizards.
Yet here I am, sitting in the JCR, dabbling in journalistic procrastination and asking myself if I may just have been that lucky kid. It’s not exactly Hogwarts, mainly due to copyright laws, but there is an undeniable energy around Ormond College that I have truly come to love. The vibrant JCR, the magnificence of the dining hall, the eerie silence of the JM Young Room, they’re all cogs in the perpetual machine that is our home.
But the Ormond machine would be rendered ineffective without its human element, the people we see, hear, abuse and love every day. It’s listening to the clink of billiards and the consequent celebration or profanity, the rousing “HUZZAH” of us arrogant freshers at formal dinner, and that horrific yet inevitable moment when you realize you have to sneeze in the silent study room and will surely be judged by everyone around you, that make Ormond…Ormond!
As one of the youngest Ormondians in 2013, I occasionally catch myself ruing my youth when events such as Boat Race Bus come whizzing by. No, it’s not the copious alcoholism that I miss (well, maybe a bit) but when you come to love a place like Ormond, the last thing you want to do is be out of the machine. You want to be in the loop with the friends you couldn’t possibly have imagined before you came here. You want to be part of it all.
And now, as I wrap things up and cringe at the prospect of being considered “adult” in a matter of days, I sit back with my toasted ham & cheese croissant in the rustic JCR chairs and think. Think about lucky we all are to be here. And think about how much I’m going to tear it up come the 14th of May.