Asleep one minute. Awake the next.
I was nearing the end of my first week as a resident at Selwyn College, and the events of O Week had left me exhausted. But at 3am on February 20, 2015, my peaceful sleep was shattered by the sounds of voices yelling, banging on doors, and chainsaws roaring.
We first-years were woken up, told to throw on some warm clothes and shepherded outside into the quad by the second-year returners, dressed in bed sheets and white masks.
Some were stationed at various points outside with flaming torches in their hands; a couple of others were holding chainsaws and revving them loudly.
Huddled in a group on the grass, we were introduced to the weird, wonderful and sometimes wacky tradition of Selwyn, its culture, and the legendary gnome hero of the college, Verne.
This year marks 125 years since the college’s establishment. While much has changed since Selwyn’s inception, the core values of the college have remained the same.
Selwyn College was named after Bishop George Augustus Selwyn, the first Anglican bishop of New Zealand, as a memorial to his legacy as a missionary here and around Oceania.
Founded by Bishop Nevill, the college began with the intention of training prospective members of the Anglican clergy, an ideal that has disappeared from college life as engagement with the Christian faith has declined among students.
While Bishop Nevill might lament the decline of religious dialogue between youth, he would be pleased to see that the college still exists as an institution that fosters growth and encourages excellence in education.
Where the college began with just five theological students and one medical student in 1893, today the number of residents sits around 188, with up to a third of these being second-year returners.
Women were first admitted to the college in 1983, a prospect unthought-of a few generations ago.
My first-year room was one of seven that were part of the so-called "Queers’ Corner", a name given to the area of the college a group of boys who were against the acceptance of girls at the college moved up to in protest.
The college motto is "Vitae Lampada Tradunt", which translates as "Pass on the Torch of Life". Taken from Sir Henry Newbolt’s well-known poem Vitai Lampada, the motto is a reference not only to the college’s role in fostering the growth and development of the new generation, but also to the history of crazy and sometimes notorious traditions that are passed down between generations of Selwynites.
Arguably the most well-known college tradition is the much-anticipated Selwyn Ballet, which was established in 1928. Now seen as a rite of passage for first-year boys, the ballet is a core feature of the University of Otago’s Capping Show.
The ballet careers of Selwyn men are usually short and fleeting, but filled with excitement. Six weeks of training and practice are key to transforming a bunch of blokey lads into twinkle-toed ballerinas.
There can surely be no better bonding experience for a large group of young men than laughing at each other’s clumsy attempts to plie, port de bras, and saute.
Former lead dancer Eric Munro remembers his time in the ballet fondly, saying "nothing makes you more comfortable with yourself than dressing up in a tight-fitting leotard, dancing the ballet with 30 to 40 other lads, and pashing your mate in front of a cheering crowd".
This year marked the 90th edition of the Selwyn Ballet.
Another rite of passage for Selwynites is the Leith Run, which involves carrying a bath down the Water of Leith.
First years struggle to keep the bath from falling,while second-year students use cardboard shields to protect their younger peers from the hail of eggs and flour directed at them by ex-residents, nicknamed "exies".
Selwyn tradition dictates that the bath was stolen from the "filthy Knoxies" up the hill. To this day, Selwyn maintains a fierce competition with Knox College for the rights to hold the sporting Cameron Shield and the cultural Nevill Cup trophies, named for the founders of each college, Dr Andrew Cameron and Bishop Nevill.
The rivalry between Selwyn and Knox College is well-known. During the summer of 2015-16, a brand-new sculpture of the legendary Selwyn gnome Verne was installed above the entrance to Sargood Hall. For years, that perch had been empty — the result of a Knox attempt to steal the original Verne, which broke when they pulled it down with a rope.
I spent two years at Selwyn, the second on the student committee responsible for organising social, sporting and cultural events for the residents, as well as the continuation of long-held traditions. Many of us were fortunate enough to strike that balance between studying hard and enjoying all that student life has to offer.
Others were not so lucky, having sacrificed some aspects of their lives to chase A+ averages. Some didn’t enjoy the culture of the student lifestyle, while some enjoyed it far too much. Others were simply homesick.
The shift from high school to university marks a major transition for students, and residential halls play a large role in university life. Around 80% of students spend their first year at one of the 15 halls around Dunedin.
Current Selwyn warden Ashley Day is no stranger to this environment, having spent years at Aquinas, University College and Te Rangi Hiroa before arriving at Selwyn last year. Like all university college wardens, Mr Day realises the need for halls to support students through what can be a tumultuous first year.
He says a standout feature of Selwyn College is the feeling of community, a culture that can be credited to the presence of returners and "exies" in college life.
He is also dedicated to cracking down on some of the more negative aspects of the drinking culture in Dunedin, such as initiations. Some traditional groups, such as the infamous "Streak Squad", have disappeared in recent years, which has left more than a few Selwynites grumbling.
Nevertheless, Selwyn remains a place where students are invited to join a special community, pursue excellence and enjoy the experiences of growing up.From an outsider’s perspective, having flaming torches and chainsaws at a welcoming ceremony may seem just a little bit unusual. And it’s fair to say that some of the Selwyn traditions do not appeal to everyone.
The same goes for student life in Dunedin. Where students may not enjoy some elements of student life, they may enjoy others.
Many of our traditions may seem weird to non-Selwynites, but they were for the most part inclusive, well-meaning, and fun.
Long may they continue.
- Vincent O’Connor is a University of Otago student.
