Anthony Burgess’ Alex de Large would certainly have great pains in his gulliver if he somehow were forced to sit through a Macalester first-year orientation. Granted Macalester is one of many colleges that facilitate such suffering through its first-year orientation every fall, but this does not excuse the practice. For the sake of those on campus who have already lived through the ordeal, hopefully those of us who happened to survive last week’s barrage of icebreakers and name games will not resort to Alex’s characteristic ultra-violence to release our frustrations.

That being said, I’ll apologize in advance for complaining about what all of you have indeed experienced and, evidently, survived without any lasting damages. Regardless, the complaint is necessary, and as this is the second week of class, both first-years and everyone else can appreciate such an article. First-years will identify with the recentness of the ordeal, and everyone else can simply be thankful that their orientation is far behind them, and now it is a new class’s turn to suffer.

So you may ask: how can orientation be this horrible if it presents the beginning of a stage in our lives when we can leave our parents, eat “free” food, study what we want, and come home drunk without having to sneak in to avoid getting caught? What more could one ask for in life? The problem arises when one realizes that while orientation does finally create clear separation from our parents, it means we must first spend two days with them full of nagging, unanswerable questions, undesired reassurances and the necessary but still horribly annoying outpours of formerly reserved emotion. And while we deal with our parents, we must also deal with a number of arguably more important concerns.

Most importantly, after recognizing that we will be living with a group of people who are essentially strangers, we instantly desire companionship and must work to turn the strangers into friends…because everyone knows that in order to make friends you have to put forth lots of effort, and be super cool and nice and friendly. Ah, lessons from high school. Anyway, after the parents are gone, we are faced with the reality that we are in fact alone, and we have to make friends so we can feel comfortable. Thankfully, as we are evidently incapable of meeting people and finding common interests among ourselves on our own, orientation does everything for us! Or, rather, it makes a feeble effort at doing so, through endless:

Orientation groups! Floor meetings! Forced social interaction! What more could one ask for to quell the obvious social unease that arrives with the first few days of college than repeatedly telling random groups of people your name, where you’re from, and some interesting yet soon-to-be-forgotten (along with the name) fact about yourself? As an alternative, I strongly believe that a mandatory nude dance for all the first-years would prove to be an exponentially more effective means of introducing fellow classmates to one another, and would certainly ease any social awkwardness that comes with the first few days, as what gives one more humility than being thrown in to a room with disco music and 500 naked people they have never met before?

This is an idea which, despite my complaints, leads me to admit that orientation affords many valuable experiences, as well as opportunities to enjoy or amuse oneself. Comparable to the mandatory ice-breaking nude dance, orientation creates an incredibly awkward yet oddly rewarding sexual social construct among first years. As an outsider with a girlfriend (and to all fellow cynics, yes, it will last, in spite of common wisdom), I had the benefit of viewing the sexual atmosphere during orientation as a humorous ordeal, rather than a situation in which I must participate.

The situation is created because people don’t know each other well and don’t feel comfortable around one another — so, as kids will do, in an effort to feel close to someone, hormones run rampant, and everyone is looking for the requisite hook-up. While I’m glad I didn’t take part in this, it was certainly fun to watch. For many involved however, it certainly appeared to be an enjoyable experience. As a floor-mate eloquently exclaimed the third night on campus at 3:15 in the morning when he/she got back to the dorm, “I just made out with , and I’m still drunk! It was so sweet!” So…we have orientation to thank for that.

While there are countless other insights and opportunities orientation affords us, I should simply close by arriving at a necessary conclusion: orientation sucks, but it’s fun in some oddly sadistic way. Just like watching Titanic, it is something none of us would ever want to do a second time – even though we secretly enjoyed it.