Otwo opens its arms to UCD as Lisa Lavelle and Co. attempt to spread the love.
HERE IN OTWO, we try each week to share with you a little portion of our daredevil, try-everything-once journalistic spirit through the thrill ride that is Otwo Attempts. In the past, our intrepid journalists have attempted everything from debating to extreme sports for the sake of your amusement.
However, in this edition we have involved the student body at large to a greater degree than usual. This attempt was more of a group effort: an attempt to spread the love. Seán, Sinead and I attempted to bring love and unity to the UCD population. This of course presented the problem of being a much more abstract task than is usually required of us as journalists. There is no methodology to be mastered in the art of spreading love. We just had to put ourselves out there.
We embarked on our mission brimming with love for our fellow students, armed with homemade yet stylish Otwo Attempts ID badges. By which I mean we each had an A4 page proclaiming ‘Free hugs!’ sellotaped to our torsos. We were given a very wide berth indeed on the concourse – this was our first indication that our venture might not be too well received.
“Love spreading in UCD is a difficult business, at least by the sober light of day”
However, we held out great hope for the Newman Building. As an Arts student, I can attest that we will generally take anything that’s free. We are the ones that stock up on UCD’s toilet paper and sugar packets, and that emerge from the Freshers’ tent with our pockets bursting. And who doesn’t need free love?
Nevertheless, we were nervous. To the students who were watching our attempts with amusement, this just seemed to be a silly stunt. On the other side of the looking glass, this timid offering of love represented the distillation of every terrifying social ritual of our lives.
It turned out that our tenet regarding Arts students and free things doesn’t apply to strangers begging for physical contact, at least not outside of the comforting obscurity of a nightclub. We were rejected numerous times even before people caught sight of our photographer lurking ten paces behind us with the least subtle zoom lens the world has ever seen.
The cut and thrust world of free hugs wasn’t long in taking its toll. We learned that love spreading in UCD is a difficult business, at least by the sober light of day.
Oddly enough, we ended up having more luck with members of staff than students. We managed to collar an unsuspecting English professor (not literally) and cadge ourselves a cuddle with the very obliging Copi-Print lady. At the end of our task the cuddles had been few and far between, but we like to think each one was special. The bottom line is, if the student body refuses to hug eager young journalists, fine. We’ll just have to hug each other instead.