Editorial #281

In this first issue back, we at The Saint have reported on the recent pier updates and, spoiler alert, the academic year has begun with the continued pier closure. Freshers, originally convinced by countless photos of red gown adorning pier walkers, have arrived with expectations of a tradition that are impossible to meet. ‘The Bubble’, in such a short period of time, has already deceived them. 

Looking back at my own time here, I am faced with the fact that for a university so focused and proud of its traditions, features of student life here in St Andrews are surprisingly dynamic. The differences year-to-year may seem insignificant and unimportant, until you add them up. Just with the library basement renovations, 601’s roof, the pier closure, Covid restrictions, and faculty strikes, the list of disturbances already starts to get lengthy. In the last five years, there has not been a ‘normal’ cookie cutter year here in St Andrews. In fact, despite the longevity of traditions here, I’d argue that there has not been a year that looked exactly like the last since 1413.

Take this declaration as a symbol of your freedom. No matter what our local Instagram creators suggest or what you hear out on the three streets, it is impossible to have a year like the last — for better and for worse. And that is why we keep coming back, why you are part of a tradition of over 600 years worth of students who decide to come to this tiny fishing town with ‘nothing to do’. Because life in Fife is like the North Sea: though constant, consistently changing and rarely smooth sailin’, the weather can shift on you in a second. You can gain (and lose) friends in the blink of an eye, you can stumble on the best thing or person to ever happen to you accidentally on a Tuesday, and one day you’ll leave the library and there will be alpacas outside. St Andrews is always small but it is never small in the same way, and we keep coming back because it is always different. Despite the figuratively stormy seas and literal wind, coming to university here was the best decision I’ve made and I am so excited I get to share it with you.

Now back to the closed pier, which raises the question: what, or rather, who is St Andrews without our famous traditions? I’ve found that it takes a unique kind of person to end up here, for whatever reason. Especially the person to be attracted by tradition but to thrive well without it anyway. The changing landscape of student life represents the dynamic and adaptable students that reside in our little town. That is who we are, the kind of people crazy enough to commit to it all. 

David and I hope you enjoy this first issue of the academic year; we know that no matter what kind of St Andrean you are, there will be something for you in these pages. If you have any thoughts or comments on articles, we’d love to hear from you! Email us at editor@thesaint.scot. Have a lovely weekend, Riley.