When I was sitting in my room again one night, I tried to work out what everyone else was doing. I decided that they had all made friends at events and bars throughout the year, and were now spending time with them. Personally, I knew my limits. I knew that I didn't have a good time when out at bars or events, but I thought that people like me deserved to have friends too, and have things to do where they felt comfortable. There was no reason why everyone should have to spend their time in the same way, just because the majority does so.
We had been told from Day One that the societies were the heart of University life, and if there wasn't one out there, then we should make our own. I discussed my idea with a couple of my housemates. They thought it would be really worthwhile, and told me to set it up, and they would be behind it. I got myself a stall at the next Freshers Fair, and felt very pleased to be doing something which would help quieter students get on at University.
At Freshers Fair, QuietSoc proved to be a more troublesome name than I had thought. I'd chosen the name to try to strike a balance between ostracising our members, and yet still actually advertising what we did. However, many people seemed to find a stall with the sign QuietSoc, and a man sitting quietly underneath it, funny. I didn't mind this. Those people who decided to actually ask what QuietSoc was seemed to be impressed. They found that QuietSoc was a society set up for quieter people to meet other quieter people, since not all students find events and bars comfortable, and we want to provide those students with an alternative. This statement provided one of three responses:
1) "That sounds really good, but I'm not really a quiet person."
2) "That sounds really good. My housemate would be perfect for this."
3) "That sounds really good. I'll sign up to that."
Obviously, this was a good sign. People thought it was a good idea. It wasn't just my housemates stringing me along to make me feel better. At the end of the day we had about 60 people on our sign-up sheet. This was good. It wasn't hard, since we weren't charging anything for people to do this. QuietSoc didn't, and still doesn't, charge any membership fee, so there's less inhibiting people from signing up to our list. Contrary to popular belief, you don't need to charge money to be a YUSU society. It just means that YUSU don't give you any money. You can still be a fully ratified society, as we are. In a few days, I sent out an email to all these people, inviting them to James Junior Common Room, a location I'd chosen for its comfort and seclusion. I was pleased to see people there. They were very timid. I'd invited a couple of my friends to come along who were less quiet than me to help with conversation. People seemed pleased with the idea and pleased with the society.
Throughout the year, QuietSoc continued these meetings, and they continued in a similar fashion, where we played board games, card games and just had fun. Other events were organized, where we went to the cinema and went bowling. Others organised going to see music performances and the like with people they had met at QuietSoc. I spent my time trying to encourage people to use the QuietSoc message board on the internet, where people could leave messages at any time of day, to try to arrange events or meetings or just talk to each other. This was supposed to be the central focus of the society, since it was frequently the most used medium amongst quieter people. We kept up all the other methods of communication, because we wanted to provide as many opportunities as possible, but we wanted to focus on the internet.
Now, QuietSoc is ready for its second year on campus, planning to make sure that all students know of its existence and continuing to provide an alternative for quieter students. For more information, contact the society on socs521@york.ac.uk (or check the societies page on www.yusu.org for updated contact details).
Adam Bissett
QuietSoc Chair 2004-2006