Sidney Sussex
Where did all the time go? It seems in the heady whirlwind of fervently engaging in SidBar gossip, burying heads in revision in the Fellows’ Garden, and grudgingly making up numbers for Sidney Mixed Netball, three whole years have slipped through our fingers.
Nobody knew at Welcome Teas on the Master’s Lawn the eventual significance of this place, how much we would cherish the limestone, yearn for the gardens, or bemoan the state of Bin Court. It took time, the tendrils of connection beginning their growth in Freshers’ Week as we met neighbours, prepared costumes, and heard about joys (or fatal sorrows) of fire safety.
There were the big moments: frolicking at the May Ball, awards at Halfway Hall, and wholesome ruminations at Third Year Dinner. Yet this journey of increasing connection was ultimately bit-by-bit, constructed by innocuous but beautiful occurrences: the organ music permeating windows as you questioned 9am lecture attendance; the friendly face at brunch assuaging your supervision anxieties; or the wink of the night stars above Cloister Court as you stumbled in with chips and mild tinnitus.
It sometimes occurred to me that the emotional rollercoaster provided by Sidney might all be the content of a fever dream, the variety and vivacity of emotions and memories merely the work of an untamed imagination. The unadulterated joy at the May Ball silent disco, the gut-wrenching agony of a Sidney Football penalty shoot-out loss, the tear-inducing hilarity of the Porter’s jibes about your friend’s love life, or lack thereof. But pinch yourself; it was real; it was yours; it was lived. We immersed ourselves in the kaleidoscope of Sidney life at our own risk, knowing the colours would fade, the lights would blink off, and the time would run out.
Three years disappeared in a second but gave enough memories for a lifetime.
Oli Johnson,
Sidney Sussex JCR President,
Philosophy
