There is a very specific version of first year that exists before first year actually starts.
The campus looks suspiciously cinematic. Frosh Week is incredible. Your residence floor immediately becomes a friend group. You somehow balance school, clubs, parties, sleep and a perfectly curated wardrobe. You meet your people almost instantly. Your life feels like a coming-of-age movie and, conveniently, nobody has assigned a midterm yet.
Sarayu knows this version may be slightly optimistic.
“This is so not gonna happen, but I’m expecting an amazing, out-of-a-movie experience,” she tells The Row. “I’m expecting Frosh Week to be the bomb dot com.”
Honestly? Respect the manifestation.
Before moving into University College and officially beginning political science at U of T’s St. George campus, Sarayu is heading into first year with a mix of excitement, nerves and a surprisingly packed list of hobbies for someone who describes her current aesthetic as “lazy high school core.”
She lives in Richmond Hill, around 40 minutes from campus, but will be trading home for a room in Morrison Hall this fall.
And she is very happy about it.
“I’m so happy. That is exactly the one I wanted,” she says. “I was gonna throw hands, I’m not gonna lie, if I didn’t get Morrison.”
Meet the girl bringing an electric guitar to residence
There are a few things you should know about Sarayu before September.
First: she is an Irish dancer.
No, she is not Irish.
As a kid, Sarayu had already tried ballet, hip-hop and jazz when her mom, a Riverdance fan, decided Irish dancing should be next.
“My mom really liked Riverdance, and she was like, ‘I wish I could do that.’ And then she sent me to do it.”
At first, Sarayu was unconvinced.
“For the first year, I did not like Irish dancing. I was like, ‘What am I doing here? This makes no sense.’”
Eventually, it stuck. Now it is one of the most distinctive parts of her life, even if most people do not discover the talent until around St. Patrick’s Day.
Her interests do not exactly stop there.
She plays piano. She plays electric guitar. She loves concerts and has seen more than 30 artists live. Her current rotation leans heavily into 2000s rock, including Oasis and Green Day, while Childish Gambino remains an all-time favourite.
She is also into fashion, has attended Fashion Art Toronto and, perhaps most importantly, enjoys bedazzling things.
The electric guitar is already a contender for the most important item moving into Morrison with her.
“I’m gonna keep my door open in my residence and start jamming,” she says.
The strategy is partially musical and partially social.
“I hope that people come in, they walk in, and they’re like, ‘Oh wow, she’s so cool,’ and there’s an immediate connection.”
It may genuinely be one of the better residence friendship strategies we have heard.
No rebrand necessary
University is often sold as the ultimate opportunity for reinvention.
New school. New people. New wardrobe. Mysteriously different personality.
Sarayu is not particularly interested.
“I feel like I like me right now,” she says.
Instead, she hopes university makes her a slightly more outgoing version of herself.
“As much as I like meeting new people, I also tend to keep to myself when I’m stressed, so I’m hoping that my stress levels don’t get in the way of me meeting new people.”
That last part is important because if there is one thing Sarayu seems determined to do in first year, it is actually have one.
She wants the classes and the academics, but she also wants the clubs, the residence experience, the nights out and the random stories that eventually become the things you remember far more vividly than whatever was on slide 47 of a first-year lecture.
Her ideal social life?
“Hopefully very active. Abundant. It needs to be popping.”
In Sarayu’s perfect world, friends will constantly be asking her to go out while she bravely attempts to insist she has studying to do.
There is only one problem.
“I’m weak-willed, so I’m gonna go out.”
At least she knows herself.
The surprising part: she’s actually excited for class
For all the talk about Frosh, residence and campus life, one of the things Sarayu is genuinely most excited about is her course schedule.
Yes, we checked. She really said courses.
Political science ended up giving her more flexibility than she expected, leaving space for electives that are slightly more interesting than the phrase “degree requirements” usually suggests.
One of them involves alchemy.
“I was going through the course calendar and I saw it, and I was like, ‘I need a blow-off class. I don’t know if it’s gonna be this, but this seems fun.’”
Her timetable also includes several online courses, a light Monday and only one Friday class.
In other words, the schedule currently looks dangerously manageable.
The challenge will be keeping it that way.
When asked what she hopes university teaches her outside the classroom, Sarayu has an immediate answer.
“Time management.”
Does she currently have a strategy?
“Nope. Starting from scratch here.”
A physical calendar is likely making its way into the dorm setup, along with a plan to write down deadlines immediately and, in theory, start assignments well before they are due.
Whether October Sarayu agrees with August Sarayu remains to be seen.
That is what the diary is for.
The actual first-year fear: finding your people
For all the joking, Sarayu’s biggest concern is one almost every incoming student quietly carries into September.
Making real friends.
“I feel like it’s just such an adjustment,” she says. “I’m gonna be introduced to so many people at the same time, and it’s like, how many of these people are actually gonna be my friends throughout university?”
Not just Frosh Week friends.
Not just the person you sit beside for three lectures before never seeing each other again.
Core friends.
She is hoping clubs will help.
Mock trial has been considered, although Sarayu’s attention has also been captured by some slightly less intense extracurricular options.
Namely, a cheese club.
“This seems so up my alley. Like, I need to join this.”
There is also a walking and hiking club on the potential list because, as she puts it, “I need to be outside.”
Greek life is another possibility. At the time of this interview Sarayu is considering recruitment, although she has not yet decided whether she wants to go through the process in first year or wait.
More broadly, she wants to build a campus life that extends beyond lectures and residence.
Her impression of U of T before starting is complicated.
“The campus itself is so beautiful, but people there just seem so unhappy, so I’m a little worried.”
It is a reputation most U of T students have heard before they ever step into their first lecture.
For Sarayu, the plan is to avoid becoming the version of a student whose entire university experience happens between a dorm room and the library.
What does she refuse to become?
“Someone who just stays in a library and in their dorm, catching me crawling out for food from the dining hall. I can’t do that.”
Some concerns are more immediate
There is one first-year fear that requires significantly less existential reflection.
Community bathrooms.
“If no one else has that fear, I don’t know what’s wrong with people,” Sarayu says.
Coming from a home where she has her own bathroom, residence is about to require some adjustment.
She has already considered surveillance.
“The first week, you’re gonna catch me every hour checking in when people are using the washroom, and then you’re gonna see me avoiding that.”
A 15-minute shower, however, remains non-negotiable.
Other things she will miss from home include her dog, who played a surprisingly major role in choosing a university close enough to visit.
“I need my dog. I need my emotional support dog.”
Luckily, Richmond Hill is close enough for emergency dog visits when residence life, midterms or communal showers become too much.
So, what does first year look like in Sarayu’s head?
A little bit of everything.
She wants to be studious.
She wants to be social.
She wants to try things.
She wants people around campus to recognize her.
She wants to say yes more often than she says no.
“If people actually know you, like they might have seen you, they’re so much more social to you,” she says.
And while she knows the fantasy version of university probably will not survive every 9 a.m. lecture, February slush puddle or surprise midterm, she seems committed to giving herself enough experiences to find out what her version of university actually looks like.
When we asked her to finish one sentence, she did not hesitate.
For now, that is the goal.
The courses have been chosen. The Morrison room has been assigned. The electric guitar is coming with her.
Next comes Frosh.
And when The Row checks back in, we’ll find out whether the movie-version of first year survived its first few weeks.