Thursday 16th October 2025
Blog Page 1153

Oxford academics sign open letter supporting Israel boycott

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Eleven Oxford academics have joined a pledge signed by 500 professors and lecturers to academically boycott Israel.

The pledge, published in the Guardian earlier this week, was titled “A commitment by UK scholars to the rights of Palestinians” and has been condemned by both the British and Israeli governments. Initially featuring 343 signatories, around 160 more academics added their names within 24 hours of publication, taking the total number past 500.

The advert states the signatories are “deeply disturbed by Israel’s illegal occupation of Palestinian land, the intolerable human rights violations that it infl icts on all sections of the Palestinian people, and its apparent determination to resist any feasible settlement”. It also says that those who have signed will still work with Israeli academics on an individual basis but will not accept invitations to visit their academic institutions, nor attend events organised by them.

Of the signatories, eleven are Oxford academics. These are Prof. Karma Nabulsi, Dr. Walter Armbrust, Prof. Clive Holes FBA, Prof. Tariq Ramadan, Dr. Peter King, Prof. Klim McPherson, Dr. Stephanie Cronin, Bernard Sufrin, Dr. Rosalind Temple, Dr. James McDougall and Prof. Laurence Dreyfus.

Clive Holes, Professor Emeritus for the Study of the Contemporary Arab World, told Cherwell “Whilst the Israeli state presents itself on the international stage as an enlightened funder and supporter of academia, it has for many years, in its own back yard, systematically denied Palestinian academics and students many basic freedoms, such as the freedom of movement necessary to attend international academic conferences, or simply to get to lectures on time.

“This boycott is not aimed at individual Israeli academics, with whom, like many other signatories to the Commitment published in the Guardian, I have close working relationships which will continue. It is aimed at the institutions of the Israeli state, including its universities, some of which are actively engaged in developing the government’s machinery of Palestinian oppression… We have had decades upon decades of wellmeaning calls for ‘dialogue’ and ‘building bridges’, to repeat JK Rowling’s tired and ultimately empty phrases, and it has led precisely nowhere. The Israeli government isn’t listening. Time for action.”

Dr James McDougall, Professor of Modern History at Trinity College, said, “I was for a long time sceptical as to the value of a boycott campaign, given that it risks playing into the hands of those very infl uential constituencies in Israel whose position has always been that Israel cannot count on the outside world and can only be secure by constantly escalating its military dominance in the region and over its Palestinian neighbours. But the unprecedented ferocity of last year’s assault on Gaza, and the continued extreme-rightward shift of Israeli politics, making a viable peace settlement ever less likely, convinced me that there is nothing left to lose in that respect.

“This is the only means of responsible, nonviolent protest which we as academics engaged in the region can use to bring pressure to bear on Israel’s political establishment, and the fact that the Israeli right has identified BDS as such a threat suggests that it might even achieve something.

“People calling themselves friends of Israel will doubtless oppose this – but they should realise that this is a stand against the ever-increasing militarisation of Israeli society, against the continuing refusal by Israel’s government to pursue a just and lasting settlement by which Israel can live in peace and security, against the increasingly unsustainable, blind and destructive policy of the Israeli right that is leading its country down the road of ever-deepening confl ict. I have friends, colleagues and former students in Israel, whom I shall continue to support and with whom I shall continue to work, in their individual capacities; the commitment to Palestinian rights is also about their future.”

Klim McPherson, visiting professor of public health epidemiology at Oxford University and Fellow of New College, told Cherwell, “Israel is, in my opinion, the closest country politically to South Africa before Mandela was President. I visited there in the 1960s. The hostility towards the Palestinians from Israel since 1948 is palpable and the occupation of their territory mostly illegal. I think that one’s relationship with Israeli academics is a matter for personal choice. But when I went to Ramallah to visit some Jewish colleagues working there I tried to see and visit some Israeli colleagues on the way – who I had worked with in Oxford. I was ignored and failed to arrange any successful meeting.

“I felt boycotted myself then by my colleagues in Israel. I think the way forward is to try to build any academic links possible between the West Bank and Israel and to stop the ludicrous occupation by Israel of Palestine. Once that can happen then a solution becomes possible.”

Universities UK, the representative organisation for the UK’s universities, maintains their opposition towards academic boycotts which they announced in June. They stated, “The board of Universities UK is committed to the free exchange of ideas between universities and between academics, regardless of nationality or location. The board therefore fi rmly opposes academic boycotts on the basis that they are inimical to academic freedom, including the freedom of academics to collaborate with other academics.

“Given the reported perception in Israel that UK universities support an academic boycott, the board of Universities UK wishes to confi rm its previously stated position that it is fi rmly opposed to any academic boycott of Israeli universities. The board also confi rms its view that all universities must uphold, in the interests of free expression of ideas, the fundamental right of academics to question national and international policies.”

Cherwell understands that the position of the signatories to the pledge has no impact on students and there is no reason for students to not continue to be able to work or study in Israel. Israeli academics and students will also continue to be welcome at Oxford University.

Churchyard sleepers face legal action

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The vicar of St Giles’ Church has warned of legal action against the homeless who sleep in the churchyard at night.

In a letter addressed “the Rough Sleepers of St Giles’” Revd. Canon Dr Andrew Bunch asked the homeless to leave, or the Church, which is named in honour of St Giles (c.650- c.710), patron saint of beggars and the poor, would “seek out a court order of your eviction from the churchyard.”

Reverend Canon Bunch told Cherwell, “From time to time, people have slept in the churchyard overnight and this has caused no problems. However, issues do arise when people take up residence in the churchyard for more than a couple of days, especially when they set up camp (…) We receive reports of needles being found and sometimes the memorials in the churchyard have been displaced.

“As a consequence the level of complaints from the general public increases and people feel uneasy about using the churchyard or walking through it in the evening.

“This October, all of these considerations caused us to request that those camping in the churchyard should leave. They refused to do so and thus we started the process of seeking an eviction order.

“In the end this was not required as the churchyard is closed for burials and thus the care and maintenance of the churchyard has become the responsibility of the local Council. Once this was confirmed by our lawyers, the Council moved the rough sleepers away from the site.”

Oxford City Council was unwilling to comment on this specific case, but maintains that the Council is “committed to reducing the number of individuals sleeping rough.” On its website, the Council states that, according to the last official count in November 2014, 26 people were living on the streets in Oxford. The Council works with St Mungo’s Broadway to deliver services to those rough sleeping, and provides three homelessness hostels in Oxford with a total of 169 beds.

A formerly homeless person in Oxford, who wished to remain anonymous, told Cherwell that the homeless people camping at St Giles’ church were reluctant to use the hostels provided by councils because of the enforcement of a midnight curfew. The curfew, the source claimed, was unpopular with those sleeping in the churchyard because it meant that the homeless were not able to beg from students returning from a night out. St Giles’ churchyard was a convenient location to access students. Unfortunately those using the St Giles’ churchyard could not be contacted for comment.

When asked about Reverend Canon Bunch’s threat of legal action, Graham, a Big Issue seller on Broad Street, told Cherwell, “I can see the problem if there are children using the nursery next door, and if the homeless are being offensive. It’s hard because sometimes a few homeless people are offensive and then make the rest of us look bad (…) But I feel like more could be done to help the homeless in Oxford in general.”

In defence of St Giles’ record on homelessness, Revd. Bunch added, “St Giles’ has worked with the issue of homelessness in our city for many years. In the 1980s, St Giles’ was the location for the start of the Gatehouse, a charity for the homeless. Since that time we have hosted the work of the Salvation Army Outreach Team, a shower project, Aspire, the Big Issue sellers and, in the last couple of years, The Gatehouse. During this time we have undertaken many works in St Giles’ Parish Rooms to support the operation of these charities working with homeless people.

“Working with homeless people has been and remains an ongoing issue at St Giles’. We aim to encourage mutual respect between homeless people and other members of society and eliminate issues that can alienate anyone from our neighbourhood.”

‘Midget Night Bridge’ condemned

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For the second year in a row, The Bridge Nightclub has hosted a controversial club night called ‘Midget Night Bridge’ in its usual ‘Monday Night Bridge’ slot.

The Oxford Brookes night, which took place on Monday, was marketed with a Facebook banner featuring two men of short stature dressed up as superheroes.

“Back from popular demand” according to its Facebook marketing, the event description refers to “our very loved SUPERMAN and BATMAN mini men coming down for the rescue”. 297 people had confi rmed their attendance on the Facebook event by Monday night, including many Oxford University students.

The president of Oxford Brookes Student Union, Andy Pedersen, told Cherwell, “At Brookes Union we are disappointed to hear that the off ensively labelled ‘Midget Night Bridge’ event was held again this year.

“We would take this opportunity to clarify that neither Brookes Union, nor Oxford Brookes University has any involvement in this event, nor are we affi liated with the venue.”

Lindsay Lee, Disabled Students Offi cer for OUSU, stated, “Events like this are a modern manifestation of a centuriesold global tradition of the ‘freak show,’ where disabled people are put on display, used as play-things, mocked and derided for the pleasure of people without disabilities.

“This event further stigmatises disability and does nothing to break down the barriers that disabled people face in all parts of society.’’

National outrage was also invoked by the controversial club night. A spokesperson for the Restricted Growth Association (RGA) told Cherwell, ‘‘The term ‘midget’ is considered to be highly off ensive and should not be used in any context.

‘‘We were surprised and saddened to learn some students seem to think abuse towards people with dwarfi sm is acceptable. We would sincerely hope these views are not representative of the rest of the student body.”

The Bridge is yet to respond to Cherwell’s request for comment.

A view from the cheap seat

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A selection of our favourites…


“M9 – Wadham tonite 7:30… be there yeh”

“Dear Sir or Madam,

We would like to extend our warmest invitation to the hallowed halls of ‘the house’ (Christ Church, Oxford). We would be delighted to see you (if you can, it’s to your convenience of course), not half an hour after evensong this Tuesday in two weeks time. We hope to presume upon your correspondence. Bring a tie.”

“HEYA!!!!!

So like we have the most amazzzzzballzzzz show happening at the BT in a few hours and we like, oh by the way my name is lottie, haha- hahahah sorry lol should have said. Anyway it’s like at the BT in two hours so like if you could do a preview, write it up put it on the website that is totally what we’re entitled to. “

“To whomever believes they own the meaning of their words,

Death/////

Life//////

Light/////

Darkness//

Inter-textuality///////////

Language, and movement, and meaning

and life and… silence…and preview… please? (no complementary ticket)”

“Hello,

I am currently writing a thesis on the representation of representation as represented in the seventeenth-century representations of theatre. I have decided to stage a production in light of my findings. I do not yet know what the play will be or when or where but I assure you it promises to be thrilling. Could I count on your presence?”

“Right, you fucker. Not once have you shown up to my previews or plays. I am writing to inform you that OUDS has set up a designated hit squad for negligent reviewers. You monster. We are going to sue you for gross professional misconduct – have you any idea the serious damage you have caused me after not receiving my twice-termly self-affirmation from reviews? “ 

Review: If Alice

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★★★★★

Five Stars

Three chairs, three sets of overalls and a blank space… My pupils also rolled into the cynical depths of my theatrically weary eye sockets. I bet even now you are also savoring the pleasure of a self-satisfied sigh; what a luxury it is of knowing that one’s prejudices have been confirmed (yet again!). Yes, I agree, it sounds like yet another entry into that lengthy catalogue of pretentious student drama at Oxford. But allow me the luxury of a cliché when I say – this one is a bit different.

For one it is directed by theatre luminary Jack Clover whose piece Beachcombing was one of the most impressive pieces of new writing last year. Ever since he won drama cuppers last year, Clover has deservedly been one of the big names on the drama circuit. It explains the second reason why If Alice is a bit different.  Clover has been able to call upon the expertise of ex OUDS president Aofi Cantrill, Revue co-president Georgia Bruce and Zennor playwright Lamorna Ash. Basically the thesp A-team if ever there was one. 

The play is constructed from a series of loose episodes that contrast the everyday life of Alice with the futures and outcomes she could have had. These fragmentary glimpses establish that Alice is in a mediocre relationship with a domestically challenged Iron Maiden fan and that she suffers regrets about not pursuing her full potential at university. Her dissatisfactions are understandably taken out on Mr Iron Maiden when they have an argument one night. As we gradually learn more about the banality and pettiness that characterizes her life, we see a series of stylized interludes in which Alice listens to a voicemail from her boyfriend the morning after their argument. These interludes are set to ‘be my baby’ by the Ronnets and the music becomes more distorted with each successive interludes. They give an undefined sense of escalation that makes sense in light of the eventual meaning the voicemail will have. 

Like Beachcombing, If Alice… has a very distinct tone. Unremarkable people talk about a lot of very unremarkable things and Clover plunges us into this world of uniform unremarkable(ness). But he allows us to learn the codes and patterns that betray the meanings behind the unremarkable signifiers of his characters’ lives. Jay cloths for example initially come up as a side detail, but as we see by the end (without wishing to spoil the end) Jay cloths mean rather a lot. This love and attention for banality is part of what made both productions distinctive. It is what gives them a very comfortable almost homey feel. Its very hard to describe, but its definitely there. There is very little pretension about any of it.

Yet the superficial modesty of the proceedings, belies the enormous skill required to pull it of. It is very hard to make the unremarkable interesting and compelling. Georgia Bruce’s versatility allows her to create a character that is interesting and sympathetic despite the fact she plays a character distinguished by being totally undistinguished. Cantril and Ash likewise do a tremendous job in switching between diverse characters in a variety of styles, often moving between stylization and naturalism with great ease. Were it not for the dynamism that their role swapping brings, the play would be as grey, dull and mediocre as the people it portrays.

The play is however far from sharing the greyness of its character’s lives. Rather it makes for an extremely captivating, engrossing and compelling story. All of this of course would be impossible were it not for a script that cherishes the details of everyday life and gives them a sense of value all of their own. This again would not however be enough. Clover’s confident directorial voice tells the story with the necessary control and moderation that the script demands and were it not for this, the production would not convincingly come together. 

So all in all we’re talking about a production with some very impressive and well-oiled parts. Yet my one complaint is the same I had with Beachcombing. It does not feel as if there is much of a summation of these excellent parts. It does not feel to me as if we are being offered much more than a story (or the suggestion of a story). This is perhaps an unfair criticism, for it is totally vague in defining what more is left to do. And yet I feel something is still ever so slightly lacking. I’ll stop there before you role your eyes again. But do go and watch and see what feeling the play leaves you with. I have a feeling it will be one of this term’s most worthwhile productions. 

Hecuba as never seen before

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The endless legacy of the Greeks is per- haps best summed up in the playwright Marina Carr’s own words: “When we write tragedy, we write tragedy because Troy is in rubble”. And Troy is certainly in rubble in her new adaptation of Euripides’ Hecuba, which closed on Saturday at the RSC. More to the point, the people are in ruins and it is hard to know who’s the winner of Carr’s version of the Trojan War.

Staged on a tarnished reflective floor with a backdrop of moveable mirrors, Erica Whyman’s production is stark, most of the scenery and rubble verbal: the play opens with Derbhle Crotty’s powerful Hecuba sitting on a bare throne in a largely empty room, conjur- ing the bodies of her fallen sons with her voice alone. It’s the voices that make this play; a sort of verbal punctuation happens with an endless “I say, he says” which has the charac- ters speak their own lines, the lines of other characters, and describe their experience of events. When Hecuba says that the head of her husband Priam is at her feet, you believe it.

The rollicking energy of Carr’s dialogue is enthralling. Agamemnon (Ray Fearon) and Hecuba demonstrate their conflict by each speaking the other’s lines. The movement of the actors is often different to their description. A particularly striking moment comes as Cassandra declares “I take my sister’s hand” while the two daughters of Priam stand on opposite sides of the stage, staring at each other, totally isolated in their suffering.

The violent interiority of the play’s dialogue is the true masterstroke, Whyman’s direction expertly rendering every single character a victim in this tragedy. When Agamemnon finally breaks out of his appearance as the villainof the piece, the audience reels back at his declaration that he does not wish to kill any more children, but feels he has no choice. The tables are turned as soliloquy and editorialisation of the lines of others renders every character a sympathetic one; even the sneering, strutting warrior Agamemnon, who seems to shrink onstage as the play unwinds. It’s an ongoing witness statement to the horrors of war, the sacrifice of Polyxena rebounding through different voices, all united – for perhaps the first time in the play – in their absolute despair. I’ve rarely sat in a theatre so silent, so rapt by the action presented.

The play builds and builds at a perfect pace, the action never feeling stilted by the profusion of words bouncing around the stage. In fact, the dynamism of the leads, Fearon and Crotty, along with the vicious energy of Cassandra and a knockout performance from the young boy playing the final grandson of Priam and Hecuba, brings the play to visceral life, each and every character one to whom the audience feels tied, inexorably, to the bitter, heartbreaking end.

The ending of Carr’s version is different to the Greek original, and it’s a change that makes the play even more heartbreaking. We are left with a story where everyone has been written into particular parts, paths they cannot break from, and so Cassandra’s final prophecy of a different future, declared quietly to an empty stage for the first time in the play, rings with a damning lack of catharsis. Who was the winner? No-one, this play seems to say.

Marina Carr’s latest is a testament to her skill as a dramatist, and to the way that Greek tragedy speaks to the deepest cruelty and suffering humanity is capable of, and more importantly, to the way that inflicting the former cannot happen without incurring the latter 

Review : Turn Of The Screw

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People don’t go to the opera to be frightened. We might love a good ghost story and, whether we like it or not, the uneasy fear on which they draw is bound to get us all. Director Timothy Coleman comes, as he says himself, from a background of theatre, and for him opera is all about “telling a story”. And what a story he and his team (Katie Jeffries- Harris and Tomos Watkins) have picked for

their second operatic endeavour at Oxford. The Turn of a Screw is the story of Miles and Flora, two children whom their uncle has left to the care of a governess and a housekeeper in Bly House, an old estate with uncertain history. Soon it becomes clear, that the four of them are not alone in the house.

The plot contains enough ingredients of fear already: an old house, two little children and a governess’ insecurity in the face of this situation. On top of these come the typical features of twentieth-century music, a certain abruptness, a very fine texture of melody and accompaniment and the luring fall into atonality, through which Britten brings the music in sync with the mystique and suspense of the story itself.

But the production’s merit in enticing the audience into the characters’ fears is immense. It begins with the director’s choice to do away with synopses, which can only be one of two things: either a sign of his immense trust in our knowledge of Henry James or, which I think is more likely, a means to commit us to the stage in front of us.

The church as a performance space has become somewhat of a convention in opera at Oxford and the reasons are as simple as they are ingenious. The singers have a natural microphone in the resonance and even a small orchestra can immerse the entire audience space in their harmonies without coming off as a chamber orchestra. But in a church, vision and acoustics distorted, fear can break the fourth wall and creep into the benches. That isscary.

Standing out from the orchestra of excellent soloists, conducted by Tomos Watkins, was the piano part (James Orrell), which plays such an integral part of the drama at various points throughout the opera, supporting and emulating the characters’ emotional dispositions. But at all points, the harmony between the cast and the orchestra was exemplary. Sonia Jacobson’s interpretation of an emotionally confused governess came out in her direct and strong soprano, which contrasted nicely with the more elusive tenor of Guy Withers as Quint.

Particular highlights of the cast were Emily Coatsworth (13) as Flora and Danny Wymbs (12) as Miles, whose singing belies their age. The perfection of their performances pays tribute not only to their natural gift to see through the musical surface to the crux of an operatic scene, but also to the great efforts of both Coleman and the older singers to guide them along.

Via the combination of a Baroque opera and a modern piece at the edge of its genre, I was quite literally kept on the edge of my seat 

The fatal beauty of the cliché

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“A few clichés make us laugh, but a hundred clichés move us because we sense, dimly, that the clichés are talking amongst themselves, celebrating a reunion,” Umberto Eco once wrote, regarding the cult movie status of 1942’s Casablanca; and his appraisal is still an excellent guide for ascertaining the authenticity of movies which make claims to cult status today.

Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak is a “Victorian gothic horror”. Because, well, what else could it be from the doyen of that genre, whose back catalogue includes those two iconic projects, Pan’s Labyrinth and Hellboy? Piggybacking onto his more mainstream Pacific Rim, this 2015 off ering is about as cult as things can get. To begin with, it riffs off every genre cliché going: the opening sequence features dying parents and dusty old tomes, creaky floorboards and handsome strangers. Oh, and a ghost. From thereon in, the predictabilities keep churning out: an ethereally blonde Mia Wasikowska, as protagonist Edith, is Coventry Patmore’s archetypal ‘Angel in the House’, with just a hint of the bluestocking about her (this is designed for a postfeminist audience, after all), while her dark double is in an enigmatic, raven-haired Jessica Chastain. Meanwhile, the Byronic antihero is given an elegant makeover by a preternaturally compelling Tom Hiddleston – who, I’ve come to the conclusion, largely plays variations on Tom Hiddleston for every movie he features in. (N.B. this is no criticism of Hiddleston. The starriest stars of previous eras, from De Niro to Bogart himself, have mastered the same). 

Crimson Peak’s magic lies in its understanding the fatal beauty of cliché. Lesser filmmakers would try, ham-handedly, to obscure genre signposts, unwittingly turning formula into failure. Del Toro deftly circumvents that problem by simply promising the familiar originality of his own kooky-creepy aesthetic, rather than trying to make his story (which basically melds themes from Jacobean melodrama with all the subheadings found in a Routledge Companion to Victorian Literature) pass for ‘new’.

It delivers. The results of Thomas E. Sanders’s production design are eccentrically gorgeous. The cast are eccentrically gorgeous, a winning trifecta of angular suspiciousness. Del Toro’s chosen combinations of SFX and CGI flesh out gruesome ghosts with tendrils of guts that look as though they’ve been crafted from manilla lace. The mood is sombre, but offers flickers of campy humour – largely delivered by the forever-scene stealing Chastain – to occasionally remind the old Hellboy crowd of his writerly talent for levity. And while there is nothing subtle about the symbolism of its white-versus-red palette, cinematographer Dan Loustsen forgivably presents Crimson Peak’s audience with a visual feast for the eyes. Perhaps most striking, however, are costume designer Kate Hawley’s contributions. As Jonathan Faiers recently posited in Dressing Dangerously, yellow is the new red for go-to wardrobe department colour psychology: its unsettling potential is wonderfully realised in one of Wasikowska’s vividly garish ballgowns.

Is the film easy viewing? Strangely, yes and no. Parts are certainly uncomfortable. But the taboos that, ten years ago, it might have been impressive to transgress, are now glided across with only a faint murmur of shock value – overshadowed, like much of today’s cinema, by what TV has already dared to explore.

In the wake of, say, American Horror Story, this movie is virtually archaic. Yet perhaps some things are meant to be. For Crimson Peak gains from what is, in the end, a quiet respect for the traumas of our pasts. Stripped to its barest bones, there is a satisfying dilemma at the film’s core which means it will probably endure as a cult staple of its genre when more sensational works have faded away.

Love may be gruesome – but it’s bloody beautiful.

Oxford’s mental health: time for change

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What do we get from Oxford? We get the opportunity to learn more and faster than our peers, we get better job prospects, and we get a justified sense of achievement for all that work we put in to get here. We all know these headline benefits, but if you ask an average Oxford student what it feels like to be at Oxford two more telling words come out: “tired” and “stressed.”

People expect to work hard, but that is not the only thing which hides behind these words. The truth is they refer to the exhaustion and weekly peaks and troughs of stress, to anxious tension building up in our minds as that week’s deadline approaches, reaching fever pitch before crashing in a blowout of relief, the next tidal wave already visible as the second or maybe even the third deadline of the week approaches. The pounding of this tide of work takes its toll on all of us – it doesn’t take a psychology DPhil to tell you that such regular extremes of mental tension are unhealthy. But it’s Oxford, it’s expected, right? 5th week blues are just a fact of life, our predecessors did it, and if we want the benefits we should persevere too. But the thing is, our predecessors didn’t know the costs as we now do; the impact depression and anxiety has on our physical health, on our academic productivity, and most importantly on our happiness.

Now we know those costs. In a much-cited Tab survey of mental health in Cambridge 21 per cent of respondents admitted that they had been diagnosed with depression with a further 25 per cent believing themselves to be suffering depression or other metal illness undiagnosed. That comes to a total of 46 per cent of the 1,749 respondents (making up around 15 per cent of all undergraduates in Cambridge at the time,) reporting difficulties with mental health compared to 6.7 per cent nationwide. As a baseline this is bad enough but when I dived into the stats of the extreme manifestations of this stress it took the meaning of those statistics to a whole different level. Eating disorders, panic attacks, self-harming and suicidal thoughts were rife. These are pains which leave lasting scars – to realise their extent disgusted me.

Higher Education should be liberating and yet so many of us have felt imprisoned by it. It should be self-improving instead of giving rise to such self-destructive tendencies. Above all it should be a light we look back on, not the dark hole we escaped. As JCR President of Catz last year I realised the extent of the problem; acting as advocate in many rustication meetings I saw people at the point of breakdown time and again. Then, in Trinity term, I felt it for myself.

I like to think I have always had quite an objective view on stress and work which has protected me. Watching my parents both in unhappy jobs, my mum’s temper shortened by the looming stress of redundancies while my dad being regularly brought down by stress-induced migraines made me promise myself to never do any job which made me fundamentally unhappy. I knew when to take breaks from work and when to give up on it and seek help, but last term I couldn’t take a break – under the weight of a nightmarish battle with Catz finance committee over independence, with more rustication meetings in the lead up to finals than ever before, and with University Hockey commitments and completely unintelligible models, I found myself unhappy. I wanted to go home, I didn’t want to get out of bed in the mornings. I wanted to say sack this and walk away. Thankfully my housemates supported me and pushed me through to the holidays.

These experiences have hardened me in the view that something needs to change fast and to call bullshit to the claims that this level of student mental health is an unfortunate but necessary side effect of our world class education. We at Oxford are at greater risk; having become accustomed to success we are therefore unequipped to cope with perceived failure. Because of this our solutions need to be more structural and more proactive.

I don’t think that anyone is willing to demand the adjustments necessary to pre-empt the rustication culture we have established in response to the mental health crisis on our campuses. I also don’t think that those who have become the student politics elite truly believe that we can effect change where it counts – in caps in weekly work load, in college in-house counselling services, in an end to term time punitive collections, in term lengths, and in reading weeks.

OUSU needs new people who know the power we have as students and who know how to communicate it in terms the new generation of academic administrators understand, as consumers. People who won’t accept that conference income is the most important thing. At the moment the debate is over reactive policies like access to libraries for rusticated students. Together let’s move that debate to a place where we can stop those people needing to rusticate at all.

The Coloured Market

Creative Direction: Emmanuelle Soffe
Styling: Emily Pritchard
Photography: Mark Barclay
Models: Shannon Gunawardana and Ben Christopher

 

A pair of great black jeans never go out of style. Don’t be afraid to add excitement with other pieces- as model Ben shows, too much is never enough.  

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Yellow mac, Vintage. Shoes, Lathbridge.

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Jumper, Kenzo

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Bomber jacket, Lulu’s Vintage Fair

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Use tobacco as a base for dark autumnal tones and faux fur textures, or lighten up with stark white and pops of colour. One pair of trousers, three ways to style- the tailoring speaks for itself.

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Trousers (worn throughout), Topshop. Cami, H & M. White shirt, Topshop. 

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Earrings, Freedom at Topshop

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Blue suede shoes, Zara

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Jumper, Marks and Spencer. Brogues, River Island.

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Clutch bag, Zara.

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Cami and leather jacket, both River Island. Fur, Primark. Purse, Acne.

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Court shoes, Topshop.