Labs: It’s 9am. It’s cold and grey outside. Your mouth still tastes like vodka and that (probably not so) special someone from Bridge, and all you want to do is hide away from the world under your duvet. What you probably don’t want to do is spend three hours in a halogen-lit room, handling liquids that smell like last night’s toilets, looking down microscopes at things that are surely too small to be important, and desperately trying to get results which tell you things you already know - just so you can return to the comfort of your room where you can wallow in self-pity in peace. Standing between you and this cherished goal are the demonstrators, the people responsible for running your lab session, who must sign off your work before you can leave. You will no doubt come to hate these heartless postgrads and lecturers, who seem to be paid on some sort of commission based on how miserable they can make your life. Allpowerful individuals, invariably immune to flattery and physical intimidation, they must nonetheless be overcome. Sadly, the only known method for persuading them to give you their blessing to go home is (heaven forbid) actually doing the science. Yes, labs are a source of pipette-ual annoyance to even the most hardened and inquisitive of scientists, and it seems
Tutorials: Essential tips for surviving tutorials: 1. Pretend To Know Thy Shit 2. Know Thy Shit These two steps are the backbone to surviving at Oxford. If you’ve actually done some work: well done, go in there and shake it like you want a First. If you’ve not quite managed it this week/ are offensively hungover, then whip out the blagging guns. Firstly, ascertain danger level. Have you just done ‘not that much’ (Oxford slang for ‘enough to pass an exam and impress everyone in the pub, but not enough to beat the senior tutor in a quiz), or have you literally done nothing? If it’s the latter, a strong avoidance strategy is key – i.e. ensuring the tutor on no account pounces on you. The best way to do this is to seem engaged and keen, as you would if you knew what you
the only way to avoid them is to trade in your future prospects and switch to an arts degree. Still, you can make your life that little bit easier without such drastic action: simply follow these do’s and don’t’s, keep your head down, and it will all be over faster than you can discount a career in research. DO: Read through any prep material before you go. The people that have done this finish faster, and have even been reported to have understood what is going on (a rare occurrence in any lab). DON’T: Make eye contact with a demonstrator, or worse, with a wandering lecturer in the practical. If you do catch their eye, take a deep breath, stare straight back and appear competent nothing says “come and pick on me, I know nothing” like a furtive glance at the floor. DO: Sit next to someone who looks like they know what they’re doing when pairing up (note – this will probably only work for, at most, half of the group, so act as fast as your fuzzy morning head will allow).
this might be. As memorable as the ‘putting the blue stuff in the purple stuff’ experiment seems now, it’s extremely unlikely that you will remember the details in four months. DON’T: Answer questions asked to the class as a whole. You may think you know the answer, but this probably means you either a) have misunderstood the question, or b) will be immediately destroyed by a follow-up question more challenging than your hungover crawl to the shower. DO: Ask questions. Not only does this open up the possibility of you actually learning something, it is an excellent way to keep demonstrators on the back foot, and prevent them asking YOU any questions. DON’T: Be afraid to ask stupid questions. Nobody will judge you, and it’s always better to look a little bit silly for one minute than to be the reason everyone has to wait outside for an hour, in the rain, waiting for a biohazard team to arrive.
DO: Fill out books/reports/write-ups as you go along, not the night before they’re all due in in Trinity - tempting as
Follow these basic instructions, and there’s no reason you shouldn’t breeze through your lab work. Find a friendly demonstrator and make them your own, befriend someone who seems slightly less inept than the average person in your class, and you’ll be reunited with your bed before you know it.
were talking about. If you’re a scientist, and therefore, making up formulae seems an unlikely route, just ask a lot of questions. Under no circumstances remain silent and look guiltily at the clock. They can spot this a mile off. Instead, really go to town on your pretend knowledge – imagine you’re in a film, ad-libbing a teaching scene. Namedrop anything you do actually know, nod knowingly in agreement, squint your eyes as if you’re trying to understand something immensely complex, go “Yes, I thought that!” and do that thing where you sort of echo what the tutor says but in different words, as if the whole time you’ve been totally on the same wavelength! Do be careful though, as the faux-enthusiasm trick can backfire. I took it too far once, accidently making something up that was actually slightly relevant, and the tutor asked me excitedly, “Exactly! What did you think of the PearlMaiden’s ending? Why did she deserve it?” Having not the faintest idea what she was on about, or who indeed the Pearl-Maiden was, I had no option left but the Last Resort Note Fumble. “It’s
funny,” you say, “I had some notes on that exact point! Let me just have a look in my file – it’s a bit messy, sorry! Ha ha!” If you spend enough time ‘looking’, pray to God, the tutor will tire and move on. Luckily for me, this worked, but you’re screwed if they sit there and really wait for you to find those imaginary notes. Also, this trick has a once-per-tutor shelf life. Use only in the worst case scenarios. Note also, that this does not work for times when you are meant to be reading out that essay which you definitely brought with you. Try the printer excuse or feign a strong belief it was your tute partner’s turn this week. So, even if you have not read a single page of the book in discussion, delivering these subtle performances with confidence will, hopefully, ensure that the tutor leaves you alone and picks on someone else. This is your primary aim if you just need to survive one hour without being rumbled, before heaving a huge sigh of relief as you walk out of the door going, “Never, ever doing that again”. Until next week.
DON’T: Look like you know what you’re doing (see above).
WORK
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