The Dirty Nil, from nearby Dundas, were the first band up. They made me wish I was drunk, and I mean that in the best way. They sounded like ‘90s college rock and punk, and like a soundtrack to a drunken party with your best bros. In other words, they were a great band for a crowd of first-year students trying to get to know each other.

Dirty Nil’s reckless energy was infectious, and every chorus seemed to involve a top-of-the-lungs yell.

They played a solid Replacements cover, but their version of “Immigrant’s Song” got a bigger cheer. I watched a guy form his hands into a passionate and completely un-ironic pair of devil horns.

When singer Luke Bentham announced that the last song was called “Fuckin’ Up Young,” the crowd let out a big cheer. Maybe they just liked hearing someone say ‘fuck,’ or maybe they were fans of the song, but to me it sounded like a rallying cry that the students would not fuck up being young.

The Dirty Nil made being in a band with your friends seem like the most fun thing in the world. My only complaint is that the guitar could’ve been louder.

The second band was the Toronto-based Great Bloomers. Where the Dirty Nil jumped, these guys bopped. Their sound was folk-indie pop.

I didn’t notice they had a keyboard player until I tried to locate the source of a loud, distorted farting sound on the third song. But then the guitar player brought out a surprise trumpet and all the sound-problem sins were forgiven.

Later, the singer hilariously misheard the “you’re hot” cheer from the crowd as “you’re high,” and I can only imagine how weird it would’ve been to have a couple thousand first-year students calling you out for smoking marijuana. But the Great Bloomers loosened up by the end of the set, and current single “I Wanna Die Young” was a nice highlight.

Then came the Sheepdogs, all the way from Saskatoon. I was totally prepared not to like the Sheepdogs, but I’ll be damned if all the three-part vocal harmonies and harmonized guitar solos didn’t sound great.

I think years of listening to formulaic classic rock from my parents has made me dislike anything that sounds like it’s from Q107, but the ‘70s rock and blues of the Sheepdogs was too catchy for me to hate. They sounded and looked like a bunch of guys who have a nerdy love for the music and fashion of forty years ago and wanted to lovingly recreate it as accurately as they could.

The Sheepdogs’ music exploded with such good vibes that I even saw the hint of a crowd surf. It took two attempts and only lasted about half a second, but it was there.

Near the end of the set, the singer thanked everyone for coming out. Even though there was no drinking, the guitar player then ran to his red plastic beer cup and handed it to someone in the crowd, to which the singer responded, “Well, that’s going to be taken away.”

Even if the beer was taken away, I’m sure the person got a good story out of it. But even more unexpected than having a Sheepdog hand out beer was that this Welcome Week concert kind of made me miss being in first year. Make sure you’re not “Fuckin’ Up Young,” kids.

It’s that time of year again. With a new group of first year students and a fresh team of reps, Welcome Week is once again in full swing. The difference this time is that every first year student has bought a MacPass.

Halfway through the week, MSU President Siobhan Stewart is already happy about the results. “I would say it’s better,” said Stewart of this year’s Welcome Week. “I think it’s too early to say one hundred percent, but my perception at least is that it’s better.”

This positive response comes in the wake of last year’s MacPass policy change. In a campaign run by former MSU president Matthew Dillion-Leitch, quorum was reached at the MSU general assembly, where students voted in favour of a motion to impose a universal Welcome Week levy on first years.

Rather than paying separately for the ticket to Welcome Week events, all incoming students are now charged the $110 though their student accounts with no chance to opt out.

The intentions behind this change were both “financial and philosophical,” explained MSU Vice President of Administration David Campbell.

In previous years, Campbell said, some students who wanted to purchase MacPasses on site were turned away.

“[Dillon-Leitch] saw that this wasn’t right,” he said.

Furthermore, he described the prices of years past as being “artificially low,” due to a subsidy from another university source.

“The problem that we were faced with…was do we want to jack the prices up, or are we going to find another solution? Because we need some sort of sustainable model.”

The new MacPass levy has translated to increased registration for Welcome Week. Although the fee is automatically applied, students were given the opportunity to register online in advance, explained Michele Corbeil, First Year Transition Program Coordinator at the Student Success Centre.

She described the response as “positively overwhelming,” citing an increase of 500 students in registration before the week began.

By Sunday, a total of over 4600 students had picked up MacPasses—roughly 800 more than in previous years and still rising throughout the week.

“The majority of that increase happened in off-campus students, which is really key,” said Campbell. “We were really pleased with that, because that was one of our big targets.”

Though the registration overall was up, it was difficult to say if attendance increased at specific events.

“It’s a growing year for SOCS,” said Stewart. “They’re really motivated and…excited about it.” Both Campbell and Stewart emphasized the expansion of programming for off-campus students, as well as other marginalized groups. “The programming is fairly diverse…and we’re always looking to expand that.”

The no opt-out policy doesn’t appear to be a major issue, for either off-campus or residence students.

Said Stewart, “I haven’t heard any complaints from any first year that I’ve talked to, but that’s just my experience thus far.”

Campbell notes that the no opt-out policy is something the MSU is still working on.

“In my ideal world, it wouldn’t be that we’d introduce an opt-out, but it would just be that every student was getting something out of it,” he said.

And in the end, that’s what Welcome Week is all about, said Stewart. “My sincere hope is that students find something to connect to during this week.”

Having fun? I’d hope so, because this is one expensive party.

The pool of money allocated to Welcome Week this year is about half a million bucks. Events, swag, bands, food and all the other hoopla adds up quick.

And whether you’re involved in the Week or not, you’re invested. A mandatory fee of $110 is pulled from every first year pocket. That’s new, and a little problematic.

Some Muslim students, for example, have expressed concerns over the inclusivity of Welcome Week, given conflicts between their religious observance and getting their money’s worth. It doesn’t seem fair to force that choice upon them.

But when you make exceptions for one group, do you extend it to others? Eventually it defeats the purpose of the mandatory fee, which was selected by popular student vote at last year’s students union general assembly.

And even if participation wasn’t an issue, how about enjoyment? Yeah, it’s a good time being a rep. But the Week is for you, first years, and it’s up to you to tell the McMaster Students Union and the Student Success Centre what you liked and what you didn’t.

Re-imagine the week. Eliminate this, add that. The money’s there, so do the class of 2017 a favour by making sure their Welcome Week is a blast.

Physiological

At the bottom of the pyramid, we find the most basic, physical needs of humans: breathing, food, drink, sleep and sex. Lucky for you, McMaster makes it easy for you to fulfill most, if not all, of them.

Breathing: Mac is conveniently located on the planet Earth, known for its abundance of oxygen. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably figured out the whole breathing thing and should move on to the next point.

Food: It’s pretty much everywhere. If you are on campus, you are never more than five minutes away from a meal, or at the very least, a snack to keep you going. Thode Library even has a café on the first floor, so you can satisfy your hunger for knowledge and croissants in the same place. And if you’re commuting from home, most parents come equipped with a full fridge!

Drink: You’re in first year, which probably means you’re not 19 yet. But don’t worry; you’ll find a way. For all you of-age fogies, though, the west-heading bus will take you straight to University Plaza in less than 15 minutes. It has the usual LCBO, as well as a Dollorama, a Coles, and a few food sources, if you’re still hungry after the last paragraph. On campus, you’ve got bars The Phoenix and TwelvEighty. Walk east into Westdale for The Snooty Fox, or south of campus for Ramshead, West End Pub and Emerson Pub.

Sleep: This is where Maslow and I disagree. He thinks sleep is an important human need, whereas I have a few years of anecdotal evidence to disprove the old man. Sleep? Forget about sleep. You’re in university now.

Sex: You sly dog, you. The Student Health Education Centre (SHEC) on the second floor of the student centre, room 202, is perpetually stocked with free condoms, lube and volunteers to answer all your health-related (sexual and otherwise) questions. Pick up some protection, find someone that’s into you, and getterdone.

Security

Security of Body: Campus is a safe place to be. There are emergency telephone portals, equipped with bright lights, smattered around campus. You can always see at least one, no matter where you are. And more than that, for the times you’re off-campus and trying to get home safely at night, you can call up the Student Walk Home Attendant Team (SWHAT) and they’ll send out a man and a woman to get you where you need to go. So don’t sweat, call SWHAT.

Security of Health: In addition to the student-run SHEC, there’s also the Student Wellness Centre. There you can get appointments with mental or physical health professionals, five days a week, all year round.

Security of Employment: Not yet. That’s what you’re here to attain, remember? But until then, there are many part-time employment opportunities on campus. Check out OscarPlusMcMaster.ca or the McMaster Students Union jobs portal for available job opportunities in the area.

Love/Belonging

This level of the Pyramid is similar to the one bellow it, in that it provides some stable support, but this time of the emotional variety. There are clubs for everyone at Mac (check out Clubsfest on Sept. 5), and finding one you enjoy gives a great sense of belonging, without having to join a gang. There are thousands of people to choose from at university, so you can surround yourself with people that keep you feeling energized and excited about your life.

Esteem

Now that we’re nearing the top of this pyramid, it’s time to get a little serious. Self-esteem and confidence might fail you in the first few weeks of school. You’re adjusting to a new environment, and might feel a bit out of place. Play your cards right, though, and you’ll quickly discover skills you might not have known you even had.

Look around.

To your left, the blinding fluorescence of multi-coloured coveralls shimmers. Just to the right of that, a mob of incessant cheering has broken out and will most likely ring on for about an hour or so. Right in front of you, people are probably parading around to the cackling of talent-bereft pop monstrosities, who, through relentlessly roaring radios, shriek on and on about a morally bankrupt society. Don’t be alarmed. Don’t be afraid. This is your welcome. This is your University.

After two years, your University – while still entirely new to you – has become my home. It didn’t start out that way, though. I came as you did, or perhaps more truthfully, even less than that.

Jump back a few years, and you’ll find me packaged in a pair of mustard-stained underwear. It was a slip of the mind, a mistake of nerves, anxiety and general uncleanliness. I was scared out of my pants (and clean tighty-whities) of the prospect of entering a foreign environment. McMaster was big and I was small and I wondered if I would really matter at all.

Yet in time, things changed and I was able to call McMaster my home. To this day, whether by sheer loyalty or my own volition, McMaster still is. It isn’t the University itself that conjures this feeling, however. Nor is it the community or unwavering kinship that I have developed over the years.

Instead, it is both the first warm smile I received and my first bitter disappointment. It is that day on a piano singing with strangers. It is finding a way onto the roof of Hamilton Hall only to wonder how anyone could get down. It is the best night that will never be remembered and another night that I only wish I could forget. It is that time looking up at the stars reading Kurt Vonnegut aloud. It is cramming before an exam. It is a laugh, a kiss, a conversation, a feeling, a thought, a hug, a cry, a test, a workout, a game, a secret, a dance, a drink, a car ride. It is an entire two years sandwiched into an article.

For what my home is and always will be is a single moment that is built upon brick by brick, memory by memory – just like a house would be. During both the good and bad times, it serves as a place for comfort and reflection. It reminds me of where I was and where I am going. Friends, family, and people that I will never have the chance to meet, people that I will never be able to talk to – all of them fit into that house, that shelter. My shelter.

My home.

Yet it is not mine alone. It will be yours, just as much as it is mine. It also belongs to the person who just passed you by. And the professor who is lecturing you. And the custodial staff who are working tirelessly. It is all of ours together.

This is because these moments, however fickle they may be, are the aggregate of 125 years. Arising from a Christian education centre in 1881, McMaster was founded as a Baptist seminary. In 1890, the first degree programs were offered. 1892 brimmed with zany sport cheers like “Boom on Star”. 1894 saw the first students graduate. 1902, and the school colours were chosen. Then, in 1930, McMaster found its home. Hamilton.

This is but a brief snippet of various instances that comprise McMaster’s history. It, however, barely scratches the surface. There were numerous accomplishments in education and research. There were times of uncertainty and hardship. There were harrowing accounts of students being drafted into the Great Wars proud but never returning.

Without all of these – a hundred unrecognizable faces and names, the sum of people before and after me, a collective spirit of students that yearned for knowledge and social interaction, all the alumni, all the professors, all the staff, all the people who walked where I walked, did what I did, and felt what I felt – my moments, my home, and everything else I value in this place, would not exist.

Perhaps that’s a tad dramatic. It is often said that while all atoms exist, not all are important. Maybe that’s true. Maybe we are truly inconsequential in the scheme of things. Maybe no one will remember me five years from now. Maybe this very sentence will fade into obscurity.

But understand that while we have probably never met and it is likely that we never will, I have been where you have been, and no matter what has happened here at McMaster, whether it be happiness or sadness, frustration or serenity, I keep coming back and back and back again.

For this place is what you make of it, and what you make is this place.

I’m not trying to make waves. I’m just saying, is all, that the incoming first years might be entitled to a one hell of a Welcome Week.

Well, maybe ‘entitled’ is the wrong word. Here’s the story. Remember the fee that was passed at least year’s MSU general assembly? The one that was to charge every incoming first year a mandatory $110 fee in place of MacPass sales? If you interpret the relevant documents in a certain way, you might find that the University is required to match that fee. In other words, they’d have to double the Welcome Week budget line to roughly $1.14 million.

It works like this. When the McMaster Students Union and University sat down to figure out how they were going to translate this general assembly vote into an actual fee, the University agreed to take on the administration of that fee. An agreement on ancillary fees between the two organizations says that the University must match any of its ancillary fee increases on full-time, undergraduate students, effectively doubling the funding for that particular cost.

There are some points of ambiguity. Is this a fee increase, or just the shifting of a fee from optional to compulsory? And does it count as a fee on full-time undergraduate students if it’s only charged to first-years?

But that doesn’t really matter; it’s not going to happen. There will be no Super Welcome Week this year. And that doesn’t mean that the University is in the wrong, or that the MSU has failed in its ploy to milk McMaster for customized nightgowns for the PJ Parade. Both sides understand that this was a fine solution to a problematic fee – why argue over semantics?

In fact, it was the willingness of our student leaders to work cooperatively with the university that allowed this fee to work out. Had they been sticklers over the agreements and demanded fee matching, McMaster would likely have withdrawn support.

So we’ll let this one go. To argue over it would defy the spirit of the fee cooperation. It would only do harm to the student-University relationship.

But perhaps the more concerning truth, if you’re the kind of person who grows concerned over this kind of thing, is that our students union is just not that kind of students union. It offers services, provides jobs and plans fun stuff for its members, all of which is great. We don’t antagonize the University, or the provincial government – even when tuition continues to rise, or when the University doesn’t heed our concerns with a new copyright deal that will see an increase to student fees, as happened earlier this summer. Sometimes cooperation pays off, and sometimes it doesn’t.

But the way we define “union” contrasts with some other schools in a big way. When members of Quebec student protest group CLASSE came to Hamilton on a solidarity tour through Ontario, executive committee member Jérémie Bédard-Wien called out the “shitty executive” of student unions in Quebec that were initially against the student strike. That’s executives like ours that he’s talking about. We stick with the lobbying groups that want to show support for the Ontario tuition grant, not the ones that would rather go on strike because tuition has continued to increase.

But it’s not their fault - if there is any blame to go around at all, that is. They know the influence a supportive and vocal student body has when they sit down for meetings with politicians or university administrators. And here, we just don’t have it. There’s no appetite for it.

In other words, we’re not that kind of students union because we’re not those kinds of students.

Please pardon the way I generalize. We do have active students on this campus who have been vocal about problems in the way our education and university experience is funded. They’re the kind of people who might walk into a university administrator’s office with a copy of the ancillary fee agreement, demanding some extra Welcome Week funding. But they’re relatively rare.

I’m not trying to evaluate. This is a debate student politicians have been having with one another across the country recently. I’m just trying to put us on the political map.

I guess what I’m saying is, if you’re okay with who we are, great. If not, then speak up.

And hey, maybe I’m also pushing someone to get us a load of Welcome Week dollars. Do you think Radiohead will come play for half a million?