Allow term to change you

It is well known that pride comes before a fall – an excessive assurance in one’s own invulnerability is a likely recipe for disaster. At university, however, an impenetrable facade and a certain self-conviction appear to have become the norm. My issue with this culture is how rarely – if ever – I hear about a desire to improve our skills. It often feels as if the term becomes about what one can prove, with social currency often being earned in the process.

The drama scene at Oxford frequently epitomises how student output can become more about personalities than prioritising the art itself. The Oxford University Dramatic Society (OUDS) venerates certain student actors, often drooling over the idea of a student elite. The most recent Playhouse production went so far as to proclaim its own project to be the “height of student drama”, while another recent play even featured a rotation of chosen students acting on different nights, presumably intended to have the feel of ‘celebrity-guest’ appearances.

The BNOC list produces another obvious example of this obsession with student reputation. Sure, revealing the campus’ popular names is just some light entertainment. But there is a danger in viewing students as “Oxford’s most famous – and infamous – characters”. This preoccupation sets a precedent that students are not in a process of growth, but rather formed figures to be put on a pedestal.

This unnerving attitude of projection over progress produces more smoke than there is fire; it becomes more about the ‘who’ than the ‘what’. The opportunities term holds appear to be approached by many with self-promotion or social kudos in mind; to my mind, they lack earnest desire to develop a passion. Students often act as if they and their peers are final products, as if we’re professionals already – we’re not. In the racket of this desire to prove ourselves, self-reflection appears to be a lost concept.

Our academic studies require a willingness to change – without humility, we would consistently be chained to our old methods and opinions, and would never grow. You would look ridiculous walking into a tutorial trying to prove yourself, rather than submit to being broken down and remoulded. Yet, look for this attitude outside the vulnerable confines of the tutorial room, and you will find that Oxford culture lacks this genuineness.

Stubbornness also shows up in the chaos of student life. Oxford is rife with poor management and even self-deprecation; admissions of poorly written essays or various social regrets echo around daily. The assumption that students here are put together is wildly incorrect. But amongst missed deadlines, cancelled plans, and failed projects (which are often a product of an admirable ambition to do anything and everything), a genuine desire to learn and improve from experience is rarely talked about – at least not publicly. It is acceptable to be in an ‘essay crisis’, or to not care about making your 9.00am lecture (or any other plan, for that matter), yet a sincere want to change habits or fix your failings is looked down upon; transparency is a weakness. 

It’s important to clarify that I am in no way taking issue with excellence. High standards are ideal, and Oxford consistently witnesses excellent student work that should absolutely be acknowledged. I’m also not saying that we shouldn’t have self-conviction and be aware of our talents – my issue is not with confidence, nor is it with skill-based hierarchy. It’s the lack of servitude. There’s a profound difference between timidity and humility that Oxford students appear to be unaware of. There is an immense grace in possessing talent (and knowing it) and still constantly submitting yourself to being changed and reformed for the better. Skill and personality should not be about reputation and popularity, but about using skill for greater purpose. Fostering natural talent in this way is an ultimate form of self-respect.

A genuine desire to constantly reshape and reform what you pursue will take you far. Treating term time like a showcase for your facade of impartiality or self-assuredness in the hopes of external validation has made Oxford’s student culture about protecting and perpetuating one’s image – throughout the spectrum of students parading their skill to apologising for a lack of it, it appears to be devoid of genuine humility and desire to improve. Passion has been confused (or at least overshadowed by) prestige, and a desire to serve true purpose and apply oneself seems rare. Why can’t we transfer the humility needed in the tutorial room to all aspects of our time here, whether socially, artistically, or practically?  

Ultimately, if student culture continues to work against the virtue of self-improvement, and we carry on being quite so unapologetic, the fall from pride may not be public, but will be a personal one – the loss of the most developed version of yourself. Immense strength can be found in allowing the term to change you, no matter how weak this is made out to be.