Tag Archives: drinking

How to Avoid: Bumping into students in public

There is no foolproof way of avoiding bumping into your students in the street and the more you teach, the worse it inevitably becomes. There are a few ways to minimise seeing students outside of the university, especially when you’re in compromising situations, like; drunk, eating or making out with a stranger.

Drunk or otherwise impaired is the worst way to bump into a student, especially a current student, because your memory and judgment is inhibited and you’re probably not going to remember their name. Don’t worry, if they’re a girl, their name is probably Laura, or Lauren. If they’re a boy, their name is probably Michael or John. Mumble the most appropriate sounding of these options, and hope that they’re drunk too and don’t notice. It’s also important not to choose a bar heavily frequented by undergraduates (or anyone else under 20). This is probably something you do anyway, but sometimes they sneak in unexpectedly. Therefore, avoid drinking within a 2km radius of the university you teach at. This will help you avoid the students who live on campus, who are the worst because they’re the richest and the most obtuse. The only exception to this rule is a pub near campus so scungey and full of old men that an undergraduate would never enter it. If there is one of these, make it the secret drinking destination of choice after class.

Trendy bars and cheap bars are also very dangerous, but the danger should probably be endured because what are you doing in a bar that is neither trendy nor cheap? What sort of research student are you anyway? Medieval Literature?

Avoiding students when eating out is a problem because undergraduate students either enjoy impoverished eateries for the charm, or are actually impoverished, like most graduate research students. Try to convince the nice waiter at the dumpling place that you need to sit in the darkest corner of the room if you see a student approaching, clutching at their $5 long neck of Tsing Tao. If your student still spots you, and is not content to politely wave, try not to have a mouth full of food when they approach, their clothes are probably more expensive than you can afford, so you probably don’t want to spit food on them. The fortunate part about eating somewhere extremely cheap, is that the restaurateur is all too happy to be rid of you, so they can peddle their steamed carbs to the next table of half-drunk hipsters. This means that you can excuse yourself from a conversation with your student at any time with minimal apology, and leave quickly without being notably rude.

Finally, it can be quite awkward to be found making out with someone in the dark corner of a bar by a student. (Or really, by anyone, especially if they have a camera and access to the internet.) The best way to avoid this, is not to be a such a skank that you would do that in the first place. But failing that, just make sure the person you are making out with doesn’t suddenly become one of your students. Or you may have to dob yourself in and wear the shame of double-marking.

How to Survive: Students attempting to ‘freak’ you out

Students really enjoy trying to freak their tutors out. I think it probably makes them feel cool or smarter or better about themselves or whatever, and variations on this theme also seem to involve trying to make their tutors feel old, inadequate or poor. Of course, we are almost always all three. Anyway, I think at these moments, however stunned you might be (and I am usually pretty stunned) it’s important to try not to look like a fuckwit (thereby denying the student their jollies).

Recently, I had a student bail me up, and tell me that his bestie (who was standing beside him, grinning) was a poetry major, who delivered his performances via telepathy. This was supposed to mean he held a microphone to his head for three minutes while performing, and thought his poem for an unsuspecting (open mike?) audience. My student insisted the rustling coming from his microphone was his “synapses firing” rather than very obviously, his hair. In this instance, I went with it, grinning, and asking when and where he was next doing a reading, while being coy enough to not appear gullible. Or in other words, fight petulant irony with petulant irony.

Undergraduate students often think they’re being super original and fascinating when they’re not. I can forgive this of those who are straight out of high school because they’re young and silly and it’s all fun and games until someone loses a theorist. However, on occasion, as a tutor, you will be required to teach someone who is as old, or older than you. This shifts the teaching power balance in a pretty significant way, especially if that student notices, and decides to make an issue out of it.

When I was an undergraduate student, I witnessed a classics tutor in his late 20s being called a “young upstart” by a rather mature age student in my class. She was a retiree, doing the class for the novelty, and was upset by being failed for handing in half a page of dot points, in the place of a 1500 word essay.

One of my students recently told me she was old, but not as old as me. Which was a fascinating calculation considering she’d been in and out of university for several more years than I, thereby making her significantly older. Regardless of the mathematical situation, she felt like we shared a special ‘oldies’ bond that gave her license to giggle inappropriately and disengage from any theoretically rigourous discussion by observing that it was “stupid”.

Another variation on the freak out, where you really need to keep your head, is when your thesis supervisor or some other tenured member of faculty tries it. Usually, they will slip something along the lines of “when I was sunbaking nude on the weekend…” or “while I was snorting coke in the toilets at the conference…” into an otherwise tame conversation. This is a test. It is essential not to let your face register any affectation of shock, no matter how outlandish the original comment was. Otherwise, you will be considered puritanical, conservative and as dull as the undergraduates.

How to Survive: End of Semester Drinks

This week was my final week of teaching for the year, as it was for many of us. This means that there were, and will continue to be functions at which you, as a graduate research student will be forced to drink with the undergraduates that you teach and/or senior members of faculty and permanent staff.

As there is never a decent budget (or any budget) for end of semester events, you will find yourself in a position where you are expected to buy alcohol for your consumption, and in many cases, the consumption of those around you.


This is particularly galling, as undergraduate students and faculty staff members are inevitably in a more stable financial position than you. Especially as the end of teaching also means the end of your meagre casual salary for the next four months, and the beginning of careers in bar work, retail or unemployment benefits.

In the case of drinking with your students, all the usual techniques for avoiding purchasing alcohol will be detected in such an exposed setting, so it is best to give in, buy a jug or two of the cheapest beer the uni pub has to offer, and accept your place as the hero of all students with minimal outlay. The only issue that then presents itself is that you have to be seen to drink some of the beer you have purchased.

Faculty members tend not to demand alcohol en masse, but rather approach individually, so as long as you can avoid talking to some of them until someone else has gotten them drunk, you should be fine.

Aside from the financial obligations synonymous with the end of semester, there are also many social pitfalls. Most importantly, if you get a bit tipsy drinking the swill you bought your students, try to resist encouraging them to tell you about all the other tutors and lecturers they hate. Especially avoid confirming their cynical observations about your colleagues, no matter how accurate the accusations may be because they are usually the ones *kind* enough to employ you to teach, and they’re usually behind you when you are talking about them. Remember that students probably say the same things about you behind your back and some of them could be spies for your subject coordinator.

Similarly, at staff functions, try not to get drunk and let a fellow tutor or faculty member manipulate you into divulging who you’ve slept with, or hate, within your field. No matter how fun, gossipy and secretive it feels when you’re giddy on cheap gin, it always gets back to them, and the academic world is way too small for that sort of thing.