Sunday, May 18, 2025
Blog Page 21

Oxford ranks fifth for UK councils with longest waiting times for social housing

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People wait on average 5.2 years for social housing in Oxford, according to a homelessness charity called Crisis Skylight Oxford. Oxford City Council ranks fifth in the UK councils with the longest wait times, more than two years above the national average, and with over 3,400 people on the waiting list. 

In the UK, the average wait time for council housing is 2.9 years. Greater London came top with a 6.6-year average waiting time. The city council’s allocation scheme for council housing is based on how much people need a new home, rather than how long they have been on the register. Crisis Skylight Oxford say that they have around 20 new people registering for support each week.

Oxford Council Cabinet Member for Housing and Communities, Linda Smith, said that “in recent years the cost of living, record private rent rises and the delay in delivering a ‘no fault’ eviction ban, first promised in 2019, have fuelled a sharp rise in homelessness across the country. Oxford is no exception.

“Together with a longstanding affordability crisis, this means most people wait years for general needs council housing and there is no guarantee of a council home however long you spend on the list.”

She added that since the relaxation of government borrowing restrictions in 2018, the Council has built hundreds of new council homes and the current budget includes funding for a further 1,600 council homes in the next eight years.

“We know this won’t be enough to meet needs but as the only council in Oxfordshire building new council homes, we know every single one can make a life-changing difference.”

Director at Crisis Skylight Oxford, Kate Crocker, said: “No one should have to live without a secure roof over their heads. But this is the reality for so many in Oxford, exacerbated by the rising cost of living and lack of social housing in the area.”

She reported that many families spend prolonged periods in unsuitable, temporary accommodation, and that children are being “robbed of their childhoods” by celebrating birthdays in inadequate living conditions. She called on government ministers to commit to increased funding for social housing. 

The data on waiting times was gathered in a Freedom of Information request sent to 387 UK councils by the Alan Boswell Group, unoccupied house insurance experts.

Councillor Linda Smith, Cabinet Member for Housing and Communities told Cherwell: “We are doing what we can to ease Oxford’s housing crisis. Since the relaxation of government borrowing restrictions in 2018, we have built hundreds of new council homes. Our budget for 2025/26 includes funding for a further 1,600 council homes in the next eight years.

 “We know this won’t be enough to meet need. But as the only council in Oxfordshire building new council homes, we know every single one can make a life-changing difference.”

‘Hot Girl Hilary’ – A mid-term reflection on what this really means

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Better late than never, right? It’s the sentiment which lies at the heart of every tutorial essay, every near-sprint to a looming lecture or class (maybe even this article). Oxford time is a tin of treacle which seems to weigh down every step taken or word written, until you’re gasping for breath at the knife-edge of the essay deadline. It’s the 5th week of term, and you don’t want to run out of steam, but there isn’t much left in the tank. 

So you keep your mind fixed on sunny Trinity days, clubcard G&T, and Pimms on the grass, which you may or may not have been told to ‘keep off’ during the winter terms. Exams or no exams, it doesn’t matter when nights out no longer require queuing at the cloakroom, and when your skin is finally soaking up the first baby sunbeams of what we like to call a ‘heatwave.’ Wavering like a mirage on the horizon is Hot Girl Summer, Hilary’s bronzed, carefree counterpart. Or, maybe you think about the end of term: back into the family fold, or not – back into bed at least, temporarily leaving behind the days where it feels as if you’re waking up as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

But don’t get ahead of yourself. Hot girls in Hilary pace themselves; they know it’s a marathon, not a sprint. They’re taking it day by day; they’ve got their planners, Notion databases and Google calendars, and are colour-coding their way to time-management heaven. Despite this planning, though, they know that the best approach to surviving this term is seeing the present, not the future, as the time which should be made the happiest, the most productive: deadlines may come and go, but at the end of the day, you can’t get a moment back. 

Hot girls in Hilary take what most people think of as the bleakest term of the year and give it a makeover: for them, it’s not just cosy winter ‘fits (read: not pyjamas in the library) and clean-girl makeup, but filling up their free hours with social activities they actually want to do, and meeting up with the people who make life flow just a little easier. They seek out wholesome parts of Oxford – the communities within each college and society, the little thrill of knowing there are actually other people out there who enjoy yapping about funk music or board games or bread (though, Bread Society, you’ve been rather quiet lately). They exercise – not in a toxic way, but actually for fun, and balance it out with karaoke and cheap college cocktails. 

Yet, they know their boundaries. Some nights are meant for Netflix and face masks, or phoning a friend. They’re not always aesthetic, either – sometimes it seems as though bubble baths are all too often swapped for the bubble of Oxford, with all its quirks and oddities, which can turn into a mire of social politics you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. But hot girls bounce back. And when they do get their reading done and their bop outfit sorted, it’s a glorious thing to behold. 

But here’s the twist. The Hot Girl Hilary herself doesn’t exist. She is a figment of all our imaginations – the girl we curate, often in the middle of the night, when planning to turn our lives around. We want to be her, be friends with her, even date her (or maybe all three). But perhaps it’s enough to simply smile when she passes by, knowing that, deep down, you’re just as hot as she is. 

Julie review – Free shots, toxic relationships, immersive theatre

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My ticket to see Julie resembled an invite to a birthday party, promising a live DJ and that I would be greeted by ‘partygoers’ upon entry to the Pilch. This was the first play I’ve ever been to where I was offered a ‘free shot’ on entry (I politely declined). Combined with the muted thumping of the DJ set spilling out of the Pilch, it added to the feeling of arriving at a lively house party.

I was a few minutes early to the show and one of the first people to enter. I was greeted by a stage flanked by a dance floor. Some of the cast members were eagerly getting into the DJ set, moving between the stage and the dance floor, clearly acting out the drunken latter stages of a house party. They encouraged me to get involved, dance, and generally enjoy myself. 

As this pre-show ‘party’ continued and more guests arrived, I began to lose track of which dancers were cast members and which were people here to see the show; the cast members glided effortlessly from group to group, remaining in character, asking people to dance with them, and repeating the question: have you seen Julie? – before drifting back over to the alcohol cupboard to grab another drink. 

Of course, generating an exciting atmosphere in such a situation relies on the audience being willing to get involved, though a strong cast would be expected to create an atmosphere in which being immersed feels like the default. They did this well, encouraging those who remained seated to come and dance, get involved and loosen up. Given this was opening night, too, I am sure they will develop new tricks to build the atmosphere as the week goes on. Overall it was a fun idea, and a novel approach that tests the boundaries of student theatre. Julie, though, is not for the faint of heart. Or the socially awkward.

The play itself does, admittedly, fall flat in some respects. The dialogue takes a while to get going, and while the most emotional scenes are delivered with passion and gusto, unfortunately some stretches of the play feel a tad dragged out. Much of this, though, probably falls at the feet of the writing of the play, an adaptation of Strindberg’s classic Miss Julie, and are complaints that have been levelled elsewhere

The lively pre-play atmosphere is also absent most of the way through, as much of the action takes place away from the main party and the music becomes muffled. Our one return to the lively houseparty, despite being well choreographed, does feel a tad random and out of place in the context of the story. Where it is used though, the music is used well; when it finally turns off, the silence we experience is an eerie reminder of the intimacy of the situation.

What Rosie Morgan-Males’ interpretation of Stenham’s play does do excellently though is use the Pilch’s space. We remain immersed in the party throughout, despite feeling like unwelcome onlookers on a private affair, via the ensemble’s occasional off-stage hysterics, which serve well to remind us of the secretive nature of the action we are looking in on. Further to this, the audience being on all sides means that Julie (Catherine Claire), Jean (Rufus Shutter), and Kristina (Hafeja Khanam) face an uphill battle to ensure that all onlookers get a true sense of what our characters are going through. They do well, constantly turning to face different corners of the audience – and the Pilch is a perfect venue for such a play so reliant on feeling close to the characters and their emotions. 

Special commendations must go to Khanam, who steals the show in her eviscerating monologue towards the end of the play. She captures excellently the frustration of the one character we feel some sympathy towards by the end of the night’s events. The chemistry between the characters throughout the play is also strong: Claire and Shutter, as the only two people present for most of the play, are convincing in their execution of the descent of their relationship into toxicity..

The play is a chaotic watch, too. Possibly in a similar vein to Saltburn, Julie plays on the stereotypes of the excesses of the upper classes, with its fair share of out of touch comments and jaw dropping scenes (don’t ask me what happens to Julie’s bird). All in all, Julie is fun and unique, and the take on Polly Stenham’s play provides an atmosphere that is a blast if you are willing to make the most of it. 

Royal Society of Medicine CEO Michele Acton elected St Hugh’s Principal

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St Hugh’s College has announced that Michele Acton, the Chief Executive of the Royal Society of Medicine (RSM), has been elected its new principal. She will adopt the role in September of this year. 

Michele Acton commented: “I am delighted and honoured to have been elected as the next principal of St Hugh’s College and to join a community that combines academic excellence with such a friendly, welcoming, and inclusive environment. Reducing the barriers to an Oxford education was the principle upon which the college was founded and it is one I will work hard to uphold.”

Acton began her career in investment banking after studying PPE at Trinity College. She has been Chief Executive of the Royal Society of Medicine since 2019, prior to which she worked as Chief Executive of Fight for Sight – a charity leading research nationally into eye health – for twelve years. 

Acton’s work at Fight for Sight oversaw the bringing together of two charities – Fight for Sight and the British Eye Research Foundation – together to form one national charity focused on addressing sight loss. By the end of her time there, Fight for Sight had an £8 million research commitment to scientists and healthcare professionals at over 40 universities and hospitals. 

Acton guided the implementation of the RSM’s new strategy for 2021-2026, a response to the intensified pressure placed on healthcare professionals by the pandemic which set out to transform every aspect of RSM’s work and membership. The strategy aimed to widen access to healthcare education resources using easily accessible online collections. 

St Hugh’s’ Senior Fellow and chair of the election process, Professor Adrian Moore FBA commented: “We are thrilled to have elected Michele Acton as our next Principal. Her successful leadership experience, her passion for education and research, and her combination of warmth and strategic vision are exactly the qualities St Hugh’s needs as it looks towards the 150th anniversary of its foundation in 2036.” 

Current Principal Lady Elish Angioloni KC described Acton as “an outstanding leader in the charity and academic sector”, stating that she “brings strong finance, strategic and fundraising experience to St Hugh’s”. Speaking about Lady Angiolini, Professor More commented “Elish has made friends wherever she has gone: we look forward to maintaining our own friendship with her, and we wish her well for the future”.

Labour must do more for student renters

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One of the joys of being a second year at St Edmund Hall is making your first foray into the private rental sector. This year, as the bulk of the cohort ‘lives out’ in private accommodation, stories about the shoddiness of student houses have become a staple of college small talk. Tales of rats, mould, and leaking roofs are mixed in with the usual recruitment for Thursday nights in Bridge, complaints about deadlines and competitive comparisons of how little sleep everyone got. Taking the cake was the story from one group who moved into their home for the year to find a mural of naked presidents Trump and Putin painted on their living room wall. The response of their landlord when they asked what on earth it was doing there? “Oh yeah, I was going to cover that up, but I couldn’t be bothered”. 

But behind these comedic anecdotes is the much less funny reality: the state of the Oxford rental market is atrocious. The most pressing issue is the sheer cost  – the University estimates that students will be expected to pay between £745 and £945 in rent each month. This rapidly depletes maintenance loans, making the expectation that students avoid employment during term entirely unrealistic for those without financial support from their parents.  The massive demand and short supply also means private tenants have no bargaining power and are forced to accept the dodgiest of accommodations. Nor are these issues confined to the 2,500 Oxford University students who live out. As those at Wadham found out when it was announced last year that their rent would be going up by 10% over the summer vacation, enormous endowments do not insulate students from eye-watering costs. 

However, after fifteen years of business as usual, 2025 could be a year of change for Britain’s broken rental system. On the 15th of January, the House of Commons passed the new government’s Renters’ Rights Bill, expected to take effect this summer. It contains some substantial reforms supposed to provide safeguards for tenants. The key change is the abolition of Section 21 evictions, preventing landlords from reclaiming their property without justification. Instead, if they wish to repossess it for personal use or sale, they must provide tenants with four months’ notice. Perhaps more importantly, landlords have been restricted to raising rent once a year, and renters are given greater powers to challenge above ‘market rate’ rises in tribunals, without the fear of rent being backdated if the courts do not rule in their favour. 

So what does this do for student renters in Oxford? The answer, unfortunately, is not much. True to Starmer’s style as a diligent details man, it outlaws some of the worst practices and obvious legal shortcomings of the rental sector. The ban of Section 21 evictions is very welcome, on the mere principle that renters should not have to live with the constant fear of losing their shelter with little notice. But for students with reasonably secure yearlong contracts, however, this is not the principal issue. What Labour fails to recognise is that, even when landlords are on their best behaviour, the situation is untenable. There’s little use to courts that make sure rental increases are in line with market rates if those rates are themselves astronomical.

To put it simply, things won’t improve until there is more housing in Oxford. So, what are Labour’s plans for homebuilding, and will it be able to solve the issue? The government certainly seems to have big aspirations, promising 1.5 million new homes by the next parliament. Their ideas focus on reforming planning permission to increase approvals, which are at a record low, by permitting development on ‘grey’ sections of lower-quality land within the green belt.

There’s only one small issue – virtually everyone is in agreement that Labour’s commitment is a fantasy. Reforming planning permission may in theory allow for more projects to be approved, but the applications are simply not forthcoming. The handful of companies that dominate the market in the UK are keener to sit on the vast amounts of land that they have bought up than to take on the costly construction. This is because, as Barratt Developments explained whilst announcing it would reduce the number of homes it would build this year, a “combination of cost of living pressures, much higher mortgage rates and limited consumer confidence” had knocked out demand. Another jewel in the crown of Liz Truss’ impeccable legacy.

Nor do things look set to improve once inflation calms down. The homes being built are not necessarily designed for first-time buyers, whose numbers are dwindling as young couples remain trapped in costly rental agreements that hinder their ability to save. Whilst the government has committed to building more social housing, which used to make up the bulk of affordable accommodation in the UK, there are serious concerns about whether councils have the skills to do so after forty years of ‘Right to Buy’ preventing them from engaging in significant construction. 

This lack of serious solutions point to Labour’s biggest problem: its worrying lack of intellectual capital. In their time in opposition, Starmer and Co spent too long pointing out obvious Tory transgressions and not nearly long enough thinking about what they would do differently. The grand reveal of what fantastic policies lay behind the impenetrable promise of ‘change’ has been thoroughly fumbled. as the government contents itself with reheating many of the same policies which have been in place for well more than a decade. 

There are radical options out there which could improve the rental market for students – from measures to break up the oligarchic home building industry to the Joseph Rowntree Foundation’s proposal for councils to purchase rental units from landlords to rent out at below market rates. Assessing all the pros and cons of all of these is beyond me; I haven’t deluded myself into thinking I can fix the rental market in a thousand words. But you know who should be thoroughly examining these options? Our government. Until Labour starts thinking big, it looks like it will be more soaring prices, mould, and artistic depictions of naked authoritarians for Oxford’s student renters. 

Have an opinion on the points raised in this article? Send us a 150-word letter at [email protected] and see your response in our next print or online.

Cartoon: ‘The people’s Chancellor’

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Selina Chen responds to Lord William Hague’s admission as Oxford University’s new Chancellor and his professed habit of checking Oxfess.

Have an opinion on the points raised in this cartoon? Send us a 150-word letter at [email protected] and see your response in our next print or online.

University launches new Centre for Democratic Resilience

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The launch of a Centre for Democratic Resilience has been announced by the University of Oxford’s Department of Politics and International Relations (DPIR). The research centre will aim to understand and promote the resilience of liberal democracy in the context of rising authoritarian populism. 

Recent research shows that global freedom declined for the eighteenth year in a row in 2023 across all regions of the world and measures of democratic performance. The new Centre will seek to combat these trends by gaining a better understanding of the threats that authoritarian movements pose to liberal democracy and by working to promote greater democratic engagement around the world.

The Centre aims to produce cutting-edge empirical research using interdisciplinary technical expertise and data science to analyse threats to democracy at the societal, institutional, and international levels. This research will be used to develop concrete policy recommendations that can help policymakers, civil servants, and NGOs develop practical measures for strengthening liberal-democratic institutions and values.

The Centre is constituted with various different ‘policy labs’ which seek to provide flexible responses to urgent issues. They focus on four different areas: Social transformations, institutional innovation, international resilience, and observing authoritarianism. Between them they cover topics such as rapid shifts in voting behaviour, democratic engagement, multilateralism, and democratic sustainability. In collaboration with other research institutes, the Centre will develop early warning signals and intervention strategies to counteract democratic backsliding. 

Professor Petra Schleiter, Professor of Comparative Politics at the University and lead researcher at the Centre, said: “We have a proud tradition of leadership not just in education, but also in research, that sees us consistently ranked as ‘world leading’ in the UK and internationally. The Centre for Democratic Resilience is uniquely positioned to generate impactful research and forge vital collaborations to safeguard democracy in an era of growing uncertainty.

“This is one of the most defining challenges of our time. Our world-class research together with international partnerships will mean we can develop and implement impactful, agile, and scalable solutions to safeguard democracy for the future.”

Unboxing the past: Snapshots of self-reflection

My friends say I’m quite a nostalgic person. You name it, I’ve kept it. Concert tickets faded at the edges, postcards scribbled from far away places, love letters from a past that still lingers in ink. It’s all there, stashed away in a 6×8 Selfridge’s box given by someone I once held dear. The back of my phone is home to metro tickets from trips across Europe – scraps of memory preserved in flimsy plastic. My shoebox of a uni room is covered wall to wall with pictures of friends, family and holidays, offering comfort on days where the light shines less brightly. All around me are memories, reminding me of who I once was and who I have become.

Those who are fortunate enough to be subjected to my stream-of-consciousness-style Instagram posting, a concept to make even Virginia Woolf turn in her grave, know that they’re never safe from me and my trusty camera. Being the designated photographer friend means knowing the quiet trade-off: always the observer, rarely the subject. But this is part of the joy. These memories captured will last a lifetime, the smiles frozen mid-laughter, questionable bop outfits, and moments of pure chaos, all preserved for years to come.

But I’ve come to realise that these memories aren’t just windows into the past – they’re about preserving pieces of who we are now. Each ticket, photo and memento holds a moment of joy, a glimpse of growth and a connection to the people and places that have shaped us. In a world which never stops turning, these keepsakes provide a semblance of stability, serving as anchors connecting us to people, places, and feelings that might otherwise fade with time. These memories are not just our own, they belong to the people we share them with.

Through the lens of my camera or the slip of a metro ticket, these memories intertwine with the lives of others. As much as I love reminiscing, nostalgia isn’t just about clinging to the past, it’s about welcoming the future. With each new memory comes a new story to be told. Looking at the photos on my wall, I’m reminded of how much I’ve grown, how time has shaped me, and how the world around me continues to evolve. They are not just snapshots of what once was but reflections of change, evidence that every fleeting moment has led me to where I am now. Each photo holds a quiet reminder that the moments I once took for granted were shaping me in ways I never realised. Photographs aren’t just fragments of yesterday; they are stepping stones to the future, proof that life moves forward, and so must we.

So I’ll keep taking photos, until my box overflows and I must find another to fill.

Work hard, drink harder: Alcohol dependence and the Oxford experience

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CW: Discussion of alcohol abuse

Since I arrived at Oxford, alcohol has been woven into the fabric of my university experience. Drinking isn’t just expected – it’s encouraged, celebrated, and deeply embedded in student culture. Nights out, pub trips, drinking societies, formals: Oxford demands drinking, and I’ve obliged, over and over again.

Drinking seems essential to having a good time. It’s there after a long day, a social glue that binds people together. It’s a rite of passage, a measure of belonging. At university, you’re supposed to drink, and you’re supposed to drink a lot.

You’re praised for it. Being a ‘heavyweight’ is a badge of honour. If you drink heavily, you’re a legend. If you say no, you’re no fun. The pressure is relentless when you’re already overworked and overwhelmed and looking for an easy fix, and the embarrassment of being the only one without a drink in hand is enough to push you back into the cycle, again and again.

Oxford is a place where pressure is constant and relentless. The eight-week terms condense what should be months of study into an exhausting sprint, where essays seem to be due at an impossible pace, and the expectation is always that you will have read more, thought harder, and argued better than your peers. The workload is overwhelming, but the culture is such that admitting you’re struggling feels like admitting failure. So, instead of slowing down, you speed up.

Alcohol offers an escape from the suffocating perfectionism. After a day of tutorials where every sentence feels scrutinised and every idea must be defended, the prospect of shutting off your brain for a few hours is irresistible. A trip to the Four Candles with your friends turns the imposter syndrome down to a whisper and makes the academic intensity feel like background noise rather than a crushing weight. It’s the pressure valve that allows students to keep going.

But in a place where overworking is normalised, so is over-drinking. Post-essay drinks turn into post-tutorial drinks, which turn into “just one to take the edge off.” The college bar is always there, the pub is always full, and the idea of saying no feels like opting out of the student experience.

The toll of drinking isn’t just social – it’s financial, physical, and mental. I’ve spent money I don’t have on overpriced bottles of wine because I was too hungover to get to the cheaper shops earlier in the day. I’ve justified drinking over food because I ‘needed’ the bottle more than I needed my dinner.

Academically, it wrecks you. I can have a 10am I’m terrified of, not because of the work, but because I don’t know if I’ll be able to wake up. I’ve set four alarms just to drag myself out of bed. Once, I took cider in a water bottle to a tute because my accent had been mocked in the last session, and I needed the confidence to get through it. I’m never caught.

I can deal with anything, I tell myself – so long as I get to drown my brain again.

Despite everything, I can’t imagine myself stopping. The idea of sobriety frightens me. If I stop drinking, will I still be fun? Will I still belong? The scariest part is not knowing who I am without alcohol. I’ve rationalised it in every way possible. I don’t wake up in shop doorways, I don’t drink in the mornings, I don’t get into fights. I know my wines, I’m ‘sophisticated’ and I’m fine. But I’ve also taught myself that an £8 Mendoza Malbec is somehow essential. I’ve justified my drinking with knowledge, with culture, with class. I can do that at Oxford.

I read self-help books. I was once proud of myself for reading two books on the topic; only to realise I’d read it before and forgotten about it in the morning. I bought smaller wine glasses to drink less. They’re still in the box. I won’t go to a meeting. I’m too afraid they’ll tell me abstinence is the only way forward. If I can’t imagine a life without alcohol, how can I possibly stop?

How do we fix a culture that thrives on excess? Universities claim to care about student wellbeing, yet there are no meaningful conversations about alcohol unless someone reaches crisis point, and by then, it’s often already too late. What would it take to change things? Would students drink less if social events didn’t revolve around alcohol? Would we think differently if heavy drinking wasn’t normalised as ‘part of the experience’? And what happens to those of us who don’t know how to function without it? I don’t know the answers. I just know I’d like to.

If you have been affected by the issues discussed in this article, support is available. Please consider reaching out to the following resources for help:

Oxford dancers reclaim the spotlight with Varsity win

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In the dead of night, five figures emerge from the darkness. Blazers over their shoulders and hands on their hips, they start to sashay down a cobbled street. It looks like they mean business. Over the span of two minutes, we see a swathe of other performers, clad in a variety of colourful outfits, join them in strutting their stuff around Radcliffe Square to the tune of P!NK’s anthemic ‘Get the Party Started’. Despite what you might have heard in Saltburn, it appears that the groove is alive and well in Oxford.

There aren’t many other sports that can boast a polished, professional trailer for an upcoming competition (imagine a 2s football team trying to generate hype by doing keepy-uppies down Cornmarket…), but competitive dance isn’t like other sports. Though the video is actually a teaser for their upcoming showcase, it served equally well as a preview for Oxford University Competition Dance’s clash against Cambridge on Sunday, 16th February.

This year’s iteration of the Varsity Dance competition was fiercely contested to say the least, with both OUCD and their Tab counterparts bringing their A game. After tickets for the event sold out in under an hour, spectators crowded into St John’s College auditorium to watch the dancers go toe to toe. Among those in attendance were Raymond Chai, Lois Samphier-Read, and Amy Ireland, the three guest judges for the competition.

The two sides competed in a total of seven different disciplines, ranging from the more classical Ballet to more modern styles, like Hip-Hop and Contemporary.

After the action had concluded, a hush descended over the auditorium as the guest judges assembled in the middle of the stage to announce the results. Cambridge came out on top in the Hip-Hop, Wildcard and Solo/Duo/Trio categories, but standout displays in the Ballet, Tap, Jazz, and Contemporary rounds secured a 4-3 victory for Oxford. The narrow scoreline is a testament to the skill brought to the table by both teams, and marks only the second time that Oxford has emerged victorious in the competition since its inception.

Victory in Varsity was made possible by months of hard work, dedication, and rehearsing. In the words of OUCD president Josh Redfern and VP Niamh Tooher, “it was incredibly inspiring to see such a high level of dance performed by university students across a diverse range of styles. Beyond the competition itself, Varsity is about celebrating our shared passion for dance, and illuminating an often under-appreciated discipline which bridges the sports and arts. We are incredibly proud of both teams, and can’t wait for next year’s competition!” Anyone who witnessed the spectacle on Sunday can certainly agree with that last sentence.