Six years is a long time to spend in this place. If my Imperial career were a child, it would be preparing for its first year of primary school by now: shiny new rucksack perched on its back, lunch money nestled in its pocket. Like a parent leaving his child at the school gates, it’s time I let Imperial go. Will it miss me? Probably not. It’ll be too busy fighting the other boys and girls for its place in the league tables. Still, watching it scamper across the playground has got me reminiscing.

According to its website I’ve written over 40 articles for Felix and it’s a strange thing reading over them. I start as a convinced Catholic, then an atheist. I start as a Libertarian, then wise up. I start unsure about what I’m doing with my life, then… best not to ask. I start a frightened fresher, then an Imperial Graduate, then an Imperial Postgraduate. I don’t expect I’m alone in changing so much here. As I changed, so did my perspective on Imperial.

“It’s a strange place” is how I reply when asked what Imperial is like, I’ve never really managed a more precise answer. Cramming tens of thousands of scientists into a small square in the most expensive part of the country was always going to make for strange results. The lack of arts students does leave a hole in the College but a hole that students then partly fill up themselves, with Felix, Leo Soc, STOIC and others giving science students access to creative stuff that at other universities might be dominated by arts students. There is a great buzz around science that you don’t really get elsewhere; who didn’t have a spring in their step the day the Higgs Boson was discovered?

There are fewer women at Imperial than at other universities. This is pointed out so often that I wonder if people expect a medal or at least a congratulatory pat on the back for noticing. Contrary to popular opinion, the worst aspect of the “gender ratio” is not that straight Imperial men don’t get laid as much but that too few women are taking up science degrees, much to the loss of both women and science. A campus conversation that focused less on sexual frustration and more on the “ratio” as an intellectual loss to science would be a big help.

It is both a blessing and a curse that we care so little about politics at Imperial. A blessing because political debate tends to focus on evidence and statistics, with little heed paid to ideology and few tribal loyalties to political parties. There are student unions held at pointless gridlock over debates on the Israel-Palestine conflict or what the top level of income tax should be - ours couldn’t be further from that. But when this apathy extends to issues that directly affect students, we all lose out. We see this at the Union.

The Union is very good at being ok. They provide excellent facilities, equipment and support to their many societies, on which so much of Imperial’s social life relies. Representing students to College, the story is very different. In this David vs Goliath story, David is mostly ignored, then finally grabbed by the ankle, swung overhead and thrown to the other end of the Earth. North Acton, to be precise. Whether it’s unaffordable and distant accommodation, an underfunded counseling service or careers advice given almost entirely by investment banks, the Imperial business machine churns on and we students bask in complicit apathy.

Imperial has so much potential. I know I’m not the only one who thinks that a CV boost need not be the only reason for engaging in student politics. Nor am I the only one who thinks that there are uses for a science degree other than research or investment banking. That there is more to a university education than what can be learnt in a lecture or a seminar. Imperial could do with a little more soul.

As I leave my adorable six year-old to its own devices, I suppose I’m more critical than most parents but, in the age-old excuse, I only say these things because I love it. Too many people say they’ve had fun “in spite of” Imperial. What could we do to make “in spite” into “because”?