Drunk On Tradition

Reminiscing on our infamous Raisin Weekend and the fine line between fun and frenzy.

At the University of St Andrews, where cobbled streets go hand in hand with centuries-old traditions, student life is steeped in ritual and revelry. Nowhere is this more evident than during Raisin Weekend, a chaotic, affectionately infamous celebration that blends mentorship, mischief, and more than a few bottles of cheap prosecco.

At the heart of Raisin are the university’s academic families—a long-standing tradition where older students ‘adopt’ first-years, offering guidance, friendship, and a sense of belonging as they navigate the ins and outs of this little town. After a few weeks of pub crawls, sports socials, and bonding over bad hangovers, Raisin Weekend arrives as the ultimate family ritual. Once upon a time, ‘children’ thanked their ‘parents’ for welcoming them to St Andrews with a pound of raisins. These days, however, parents are far more likely to receive a bottle of wine. 

Or vodka. 

In essence, Raisin allows academic parents to reward (or punish) their children for surviving their first few weeks of university with a few days of fancy-dress antics and a healthy dose of absurdity. What starts as innocent fun can, however, stray into the realm of hazing, raising questions about where playful tradition ends and peer pressure begins.

St Andrews isn’t alone in this cultural balancing act. Around the world, university drinking customs – from legendary American fraternity initiations to Australian ‘O-week’ pub crawls – reveal a shared desire for connection through ritual. Alcohol often becomes the social shorthand for belonging, a way to bond quickly in environments that can otherwise feel intimidatingly new.

But as research continues to highlight the physical and mental toll of binge drinking, many students are rethinking how to celebrate without crossing the line. The modern challenge? Keeping the spirit of tradition alive while rewriting the rules to make space for everyone–drinkers and non-drinkers alike.

Raisin Sunday: Expectations & Preparation

So what exactly does Raisin Sunday look like? Honestly, most children find themselves texting their ‘siblings’ that evening like amateur sleuths, trying to piece together what the hell their parents had them do earlier that day. The rest suffer from a mild to severe hangover, somewhat nauseous and sensitive to the late-afternoon sun, as they make their way back to the pubs later that evening. Luckily, I have a (somewhat) accurate memory, so let’s go back to the beginning and have a deep dive into the hazy – or, instead, hazing – events of the weekend. 

In the days leading up to Raisin, most of the children will have received a text message from their parents with clear, detailed instructions, which look something like the following:

• Bring a liter of wine.
• Bring a liter of ‘hard alcohol’
• Bring a vegetable, a carb, and a condiment
• Bring a towel. 
• Bring a bathing suit. 
• Bring a good attitude.

Oh, and naturally, you’re expected to arrive with your list of supplies by 5:00 AM, sharp.

Good Morning Raisin Sunday

As the sun rises over the old course, any onlooker could peek into this flat, down that alleyway, or onto the course itself and catch hundreds of eager first-years guzzle wine, down pints of Tennents, and shoot tequila like it’s no problem. This drinking is often worked around a plethora of games and challenges, the morning having been meticulously organized by the parents, occasionally with the help of academic aunts, uncles, and perhaps even a grandparent (some traveling back to town just for the occasion). More than a few of these so-called games are designed to lower the dignity of those participating, but it is all in jest. Moreover, while it’s true this morning does somewhat revolve around ‘pushing the limits’ of these first years’ livers, it is essential to note that drinking is in no way mandatory to join a family or participate in Raisin revelry. In fact, academic families are generally extremely accommodating towards those who don’t drink. They may still draw on your face with a Sharpie, however. 

It is rather fortunate that Raisin precedes St Andrews’ Independent Learning Week, during which students may find a few spare moments to really, truly rest. And, upon our return, we may find ourselves watching helplessly as the brightness of the first few months fades away with daylight savings. The calendar starts to fill up, deadlines creep closer, and those once-effortless catch-ups over coffee suddenly need to be penciled in between lectures and laundry. Trying to recall the gloriously manic, dizzyingly blurry but altogether unforgettable memories of the weeks preceding Raisin, many first-years may be asking:

How can it be over already?

The truth is, it’s not ‘over’, just shifted. A slight adjustment in your priorities. This is where balance comes in. It should never feel like one or the other. Balance doesn’t mean eliminating fun; Molly’s, the Union, house parties will continue, just perhaps with a wee bit less frequency. Balance means making room for both the big nights and the quiet ones. There’s nothing wrong with dressing up, dancing it out, and enjoying the chaos of student life. But equally, there’s something powerful about saying no, prioritizing your textbooks, or finalizing last-minute edits on that essay. Maybe curling up with a film or cooking dinner with friends is what you need. One fuels your social spark; the other recharges your energy. You need both.

In the end, Raisin is less about the pints or the prank, and more about what it represents: finding your place, learning your limits, and discovering that balance—like adulthood itself—isn’t something you’re handed. It’s something you make for yourself.

• #culture
• #family
• #tradition
• college