The case against academic children

Note: All articles in the Opinion section are the views of the individuals expressing them and do not represent The Stand’s official stance on anything.

Third year at St Andrews brings with it a host of new significant concerns: the terrifying entrance into Honours, the realization that you’re halfway through your university career and the opportunity to adopt academic children. For most, this is a seminal moment in your academic career; something to brag about to all your friends back home. Third years flock to the Union during fresher’s to secure academic children, or berate their friends still living in hall to tell them about the up-and-coming freshmen class. Within the first week, academic mums and dads have usually accumulated a sizable family, and arrange get-togethers to socialise and build camaraderie.

But there are a few of us, the minority to be sure, who are not as keen on the whole idea. Rather than actively adopt as soon as possible, we mindlessly field questions and deny academic children, writing it off by saying, ‘I’m not adopting’. Why are we not eager to engage in what is arguably the most famous tradition in St Andrews? A host of reasons abound, such as the added stress it puts on parents. What with Honours readings and work taking up the vast majority of our time, it takes effort to organise functions and play matchmaker with your kids.

Let us not forget the widely accepted taboo of ‘academic incest’. Before descending on the veritable St Andrews for the first time, I had never before heard this term, but within days it had become a common saying. Getting with your siblings on Raisin is pretty standard practice. Some say you haven’t had a proper raisin if you haven’t. Certain parents will keenly adopt sons and daughters based on their level of attractiveness, a shallow but unsurprisingly common occurrence. For those of us who hope to avoid such practices, forgoing adoption is a solid plan. Perhaps you had a regrettable academic incest experience in first year. You don’t wish to further the tradition.

In first year, my two mums had prepared dozens of drinking games and a smorgasbord of snacks at their flat for our Raisin Sunday. Within minutes of arriving, I was already drunk, and the rest of the day is a hazy blur. On Monday, my siblings and I were kitted out in matching butterfly costumes, before escorting a massive stroller to Sallies Quad as our Raisin receipt. Though in hindsight I can see exactly how much time and money were spent on creating this weekend, at the time I remember feeling envious of my friends, who embarked on massive ‘scavenger hunts’ around town and got to dress up as Disney princesses. Were I unable to live up to the hype of Raisin, I may feel I was letting my kids down.

There’s a lot of pressure to ‘show your kids a good time’. It’s not so terrible to avoid adopting because you don’t know whether you’ll be able to stand and deliver. Coupled with the cost and creative involvement required, it’s not so surprising that some of us choose not to adopt. Besides, do you really want to clean up your children’s vomit after they’ve been sick on your Pagan Osborne carpet?