Wednesday 9th July 2025
Blog Page 444

The‌ ‌Myth‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌Affluent‌ ‌International:‌ ‌the‌ ‌impact‌ ‌of‌ ‌Brexit‌ ‌on‌ ‌EU‌ ‌Students‌ ‌ ‌

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While voting for Brexit was never motivated by consideration for those not from the UK, universities are arguably a different playing field. On the 23rd of June, the Conservative government finally ended the ambiguous position in which many EU agreements were left in a state of suspension, and made a statement confirming what we all suspected: as of 2021, newly enrolling students from the European Union/European Economic Area will be subject to international status. This means they will no longer have access to home fees, to a loan from the Student Loans Company (SLC), or to a bursary from the university. This measure will have damaging effects for a myriad of actors, including EU students, universities, and, to a lesser extent, the UK as a whole. 

According to the University of Oxford, 43% of its entire student body is international. This might be surprising for many whose image of Oxford is an extremely Anglocentric one, whose experience of it is populated by mostly white and often London-based students. However, this impression isn’t fully inaccurate- the aforementioned number is inflated by the (often more reclusive) graduate students; only 20% of undergraduates are from outside of the UK- and half of those are from the EU.

The myth of the wealthy international student in the UK is a prevalent and pervasive one. Without a British accent, you are immediately presumed to be extremely wealthy- able to finance a decadent life abroad. This stems from the fact that being an international student is quite costly- often prohibitively so. If you do the math, tuition at the University of Oxford for undergraduate students outside of the UK and the EU/EEA ranges from £25,740 to £36,065. Then, there are the costs that are not commonly considered, such as air travel, or purchasing items which home students could easily bring from home (like pillows, a kettle, etc). Furthermore, these cannot be alleviated through any form of financial support from the government or the university.

However, people often fail to consider a subset of international students who might not fit this description of the affluent international: those from the EU/EEA. These are students who, albeit privileged, are often not more so than the average UK student. They might not be able to study in the UK with ease. This is especially the case in the wake of the Euro Debt Crisis of 2009, which had a debilitating economic impact on countries such as Greece, Portugal, and Spain, and which is still being felt potently today. The impending economic consequences of COVID-19 might be just as destructive. 

With Brexit, EU students lose any financial aid. It makes sense that without the economic alliance which bound the UK to other European countries, it would be “morally and legally difficult” to continue giving EU students preferential treatment, as Nick Hillman, director of the Higher Education Policy Institute, argued. However, Hillman has also predicted that these measures “could risk a decline of about 60% in the number of EU students coming to the UK to study”. He qualifies this by stating that “history suggests that the education on offer in our universities is something people are willing to pay for”, but he fails to see that after a certain point, it is not a matter of whether you are willing, but rather whether you are able. As much as we might try, we cannot will an additional £20,000 into our possession. 

Here, there is a clash of priorities. As an educational institution, Oxford (as well as other UK universities) has both a primary responsibility to UK citizens, as well as the role of educating, cultivating, and providing opportunities to the bright minds of the world, in the hopes that this will make them capable of one day making an impact. The former priority is often reinforced by the argument that UK taxpayers should not be expected to support non-UK students. However, this does not hold up well when one invokes the counterargument that many of these students stay on in the UK; in 2011, 54,045 students switched from a study visa to another visa (such as a work visa) to be able to remain in the country. It is undeniable that the UK is a beneficiary of the brain drain that plagues many other countries today. While Oxford disseminates placating claims such as that “our staff and students from all across the world are as warmly welcome as ever”, we have yet to get a clear statement or policy which addresses how they intend to continue supporting these students. It is not enough to merely “welcome them” if they cannot arrive here in the first place. On the latter priority, a less diverse university environment can only harm these institutions in their role as authorities of knowledge and its development. Ultimately, Oxford has never had any qualms about claiming credit for the achievements of their foreign notable alumni, be it political leaders such as Benazir Bhutto, writers like Vikram Seth, and more recently, Nobel Prize laureate Malala Yousafzai. 

For many, being able to study abroad is a lifeline. Students are given opportunities they would not have had in their home countries: the ability to study their subject with a near unlimited access to books and resources, better links to employers (in Greece, youth unemployment stands at 35.6%), and much more. Many use this knowledge and bring it back to their own countries, and thus can improve and contribute to society back home. Since these announcements, I have witnessed several parents distraught over their children’s future prospects- even parents with children only 14 years old. For many, the function of an overseas tertiary education cannot be overstated. Many of us might be considered “traitors” for this; I was recently informed by a fellow compatriot in the Facebook comment section of a Guardian article that I am “the worst type of Greek”. It is true that many still have access to an education in other European countries, such as the Netherlands, Italy, or France, however these offer considerably fewer English-speaking courses, and the language barrier is definitely an important consideration, even just in daily life. Furthermore, with English being such a widely spoken language, so many people have learned it explicitly because it would allow us to escape the confines of our own countries. 

The system is already imbalanced. It is impossible to justify why EU students should get benefits over other overseas ones, or why the privileged EU students should get more opportunities, or – even on a domestic level – why students from prestigious private schools should get in at higher rates than those from underfunded state schools. However, this measure merely serves to decrease the net level of accessibility for students, which seems unwise and counterproductive in approaching this inequality.

Universities should embrace an ethos of openness, and institute measures which will continue to ensure that students from around the world can still afford to come and study. Under the UK Equality Act, to continue to charge home fees to EU students could be discriminatory. However, perhaps this inevitable period of change will provide the necessary impetus for furthering these reforms: increasing the number and value of scholarships on offer for international students, or maintaining their commitment to offering financial aid to such students, potentially taking this chance to extend it to those outside the EU too. Still, it is worth noting that Oxford stands to gain £10 million a year in fee income through this measure, which reveals an important profit consideration.

The vote for Brexit already has an alienating impact on foreigners in the UK, revealing deep-seated antipathies for that which is ‘other’. So, if Oxford (among others), is as committed as they claim to “remain a thriving, cosmopolitan community of scholars and students”, they should put their money where their mouth is.

Review: Bridge Theatre’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Set in the mystical woodlands surrounding Athens, with its cocktail of magic, love triangles, and donkey-human hybrids, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream has always been dear to my heart as the first play I formally studied in school. Through the years I have seen several different productions, but none quite compared to the version staged at the Bridge Theatre, which I had the pleasure of going to see in person last summer. Who knew that Shakespeare was missing pole dancing and acrobatics worthy of a Cirque du Soleil show? The performance was a true spectacle for the senses, encompassing music, song, and dance, which only enhanced the actors’ fresh and extremely funny portrayals of the characters. 

The show’s visuals were engaging and very fun as one felt enveloped by the action. The standing audience formed part of the play itself, forming the crowd of Athens or a procession following the love-struck Oberon. The characters playfully engaged with them, most memorable was the Mechanicals’ selfie taken from an unsuspecting audience members phone as well as Puck’s crude comments which he uttered as he waded his way through the crowd. The unconventional in-the-round type of staging saw the action constantly shifting from place to place, the next scene always taking the audience by surprise. 

The opening saw restrained costume, suitably setting the tone for the King’s expectations for Hermia to marry Demetrius and neglect her true feelings for Lysander. Most striking was the fluorescently lit cage containing the new queen Hippolyta, its harsh glow only reinforcing the drabness of the opening scene. As the play progressed, the visuals transform, as if colour were a gateway to the humour and joy which the play brings. The hilarious Mechanicals of the human world sport colourful boiler suits, contrasting the greys and blacks worn by the young couples and their fellow Athenians. The fairy world saw glitter worthy of any Pride parade, which elevated the greens and earthy colours of the forest to ones worthy of more magical flora and fauna. The use of beds sprouting vines and aerial silks made from bedsheets merged the whimsical dream-like state of the play with its setting in the forest, cleverly and effectively merging the worlds of sleeping mortals with that of the fairies.

Sexuality and gender are what really bring this particular interpretation of the play into the modern era. Helena’s ‘frenemy’ relationship with Hermia as well as her fruitless antics to gain the attention of Demetrius would fit easily into any modern teen drama. The themes of love and sex are brought to the forefront in a flirty and comical way, embracing our modern concepts of love between all genders. This is most interestingly achieved by the reversal of roles between the fairy King Oberon and his queen Titania. The original script sees Titania fall in love with the metamorphosed Bottom, but it is in fact Titania who plays the prank on her husband Oberon, culminating in the hilariously cheesy sex procession of the King and Bottom on a giant bed around the staging area. The scene is perfected to the sound of Beyoncé’s ‘Love on Top’, which did not fail to bring a smile to everyone’s face as they danced along with the couple. A celebration of universal love seemed to resonate throughout the play, with the mischievous Puck playing around with the young couples’ desires for one another, transcending the boundaries of gender as Lysander and Demetrius share a kiss in a love-filled frenzy, soon to be followed by Helena and Hermia.

When I heard that the play had been uploaded to YouTube temporarily, I could not wait to jump back in to the glittering, hazy woods in which the action took place and relive the scenes which I had previously enjoyed. The play in itself was so immersive that I was curious to see how well this would translate to a screen. While the performance was just as funny as the first time that I saw it, I felt as though I was missing something. Being in the round meant that as an audience member, I could choose what to pay attention to, whereas the televised recording felt very guided and detached. This made me realise that a televised version could never do justice to a live performance, since the two require different criteria in order to engage their audience. While I longed for an entire shot of the staging area throughout the play, this would leave the footage very bland, yet, in its attempts to keep us engaged from the sofa, the artistry of the performance did not live up to how I remembered it. I count myself lucky to have seen it in the flesh, as I could fill in the gaps to an extent and recreate for myself that magic I had witnessed, but I can imagine that a first time watcher might be frustrated by the constant shift of angles. 

My virtual experience of the theatre was certainly not a negative one; if anything, I think it is a great way of increasing accessibility to theatre. It was vital in making me realise just how important it is that we maintain our theatre culture and I was encouraged to see that the audience had donated thousands of pounds to show their support. Theatre is more than the delivery of the lines, and in this case especially it has the ability to transport one to a world far from the bustle and routine of daily life. This artistic and particularly humorous adaptation of the play ensured that I had a good time both in person and from my living room, but did had me longing for the theatres to open again so that I could experience the joy and wonder which a play such as this is able to bring.

On my white window ledge

On my white window ledge

the shadows and the paint are cracked

by early Spring-soft sunlight which,

between my pots and jars and plants,

is fresh with birdsong 

and the sweet green scent of a morning lawn’s

cool perspiration.

My daffodils are drying.

All this week they warmed themselves

and beamed and bloomed upon my ledge.

Now I see them yield to the light,

papery and, with old age, translucent.

But still the stalks are green and wet!

Corpulent in the jar’s round light,

They guzzle.

I think of them dropped limp in a bin

Trickling against impenetrable black plastic.

No. Not yet.

Wrinkled and wafery as their faces have grown

they still bask and beam,

Never not beautiful,

Somewhat alive.

All this time a fly squirms in the water, twitching against the glass,

tiny legs and wings scrabbling for flight,

sunk,

by an unfamiliar gravity.

And all this time, those tiny legs and wings have been twitching in my chest,

But I chose the death of daffodils

and the scent of sunlight.

And even now my thought is only 

how best to capture 

those minuscule death throes?

What would be the most poetic way 

for that thimbleful of life

to splutter to a halt

in my vase

and on my page?

Illustration by Liv Fugger.

Boris Johnson criticises Oriel’s Rhodes decision

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In an interview with the Evening Standard, Boris Johnson said he disagrees with Oriel College’s decision to support removing a statue of Cecil Rhodes.

Responding to a question concerning the vote in favour of removal, Johnson said: “I’m pro-heritage. I’m pro-history, and I’m in favour of people understanding our past with all its imperfections… I want to build people up, not tear people down. If we go around trying to Bowdlerise or edit our history in this way, it’s like some politician sneakily trying to change his Wikipedia entry.”

Previously, Johnson has spoken out about the removal of statues, tweeting: “We cannot pretend to have a different history. The statues in our cities and towns were put up by previous generations. They had different perspectives, different understandings of right and wrong. But those statues teach us about our past, with all its faults. To tear them down would be to lie about our history, and impoverish the education of generations to come.”

He continued saying that “the statue of Winston Churchill in Parliament Square is a permanent reminder of his achievement in saving this country – and the whole of Europe – from a fascist and racist tyranny. It is absurd and shameful that this national monument should today be at risk of attack by violent protesters. Yes, he sometimes expressed opinions that were and are unacceptable to us today, but he was a hero, and he fully deserves his memorial.”

Johnson has previously written a biography of Churchill, which was described by The Guardian as “self-serving but spirited”, noting “Johnson’s not so subtle attempts to draw a parallel between himself and Winston Churchill.”

The question about Rhodes came after the Evening Standard challenged Johnson on allegations of male dominance within his government, which he denied. The interviewers wrote: “A culture war is rumbling on in this country and one that Johnson has not hesitated to play for advantage amongst the Tory faithful.” Johnson did not talk about racism or Black Lives Matter in this interview.

Johnson also discussed the recent announcement that up to three million Hong Kong residents will be able to settle in the UK following China’s violation of their freedoms. Johnson described China’s behaviour as “having a chilling effect on free speech and civil society in Hong Kong.”

Oriel College, Rhodes Must Fall Oxford, and Boris Johnson’s press office have been contacted for comment.

Image credit to Boris Johnson/ Wikimedia Commons.

In Conversation with India Hicks

Although having enjoyed a varied career, India Hicks is perhaps best known for two things: her eponymous lifestyle brand (now defunct), and being Prince Charles’ goddaughter – and the bridesmaid to Princess Diana at the 1981 wedding, watched by 750 million people. Second-cousin to the Prince, she is the daughter of David Hicks – renowned interior decorator – and Lady Pamela Hicks, daughter of Louis Mountbatten 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma, who was assassinated by an IRA bomb in 1979. 

Raised in Oxfordshire and attending boarding school in Scotland, India’s was an upbringing more traditional than her – perhaps unexpected – later relocation to the Bahamas, where she has lived for the past 24 years with her husband and their five children. Since closing her lifestyle brand in 2019, India has become increasingly dedicated to charity work, presently supporting her Bahamian community following a devastating hurricane in early September and – of course – the more recent outbreak of coronavirus, which has overwhelmed the area she calls home.

Speaking with India on Skype, she tells me that from a young age she was taught the importance of supporting those less fortunate in both the local and global community: “I’ve always done as much as I can; we were brought up to give back. I have grandparents who set a very good example of that.” India took with her this proclivity for charitable work when she relocated to the Bahamas in 1996: “Every year here, I would bike a hundred miles in a bike race, raising money for breast cancer in the Bahamas – which is very prevalent here in the Bahamas because of a gene in Black African women to have this predisposition to have breast cancer.” Indeed, India and her husband adopted their child Wesley after his Bahamian mother and aunt died from the disease. 

It was in September 2019 that a devastating hurricane hit the surrounding islands and destroyed two neighbouring communities. Hurricane Dorian, a Category 5 hurricane, was the most intense cyclone on record to have struck the Bahamas, and is estimated to have cost almost $3.4 billion in damage. Sitting on the advisory board of the Global Empowerment Mission, India says that she – following the coinciding closure of her business – “had the ability and the time to get very involved” in the efforts to support her fellow islanders in the wake of the disaster. 

To the foreign eye, India acknowledges that poverty and the effects of such disasters are “masked by sunshine and pink sand beaches, whereas in England it’s grey skies.” She tells me that people are distracted by the beauty of the idyllic island – the foamy coastline, leaning palm trees, cloudless blue sky. But 60% of the homes in Abaco were damaged or destroyed; the power grid serving the entirety of the islands was ruined. For several days, much of the island – including its airport – was underwater.

“I went out with them first [relief workers from the Global Empowerment Mission] to Abaco, and they were doing very interesting things; for example, taking batteries so that people could  actually get their phones charged in order to call people to let them know that they were still alive … Disaster relief work is very immediate. There’s the immediate horror of what’s happening … and then it disappears off, and people get very distracted by the next thing: it’s a bushfire in Australia, or there is a flood in India, or there is an earthquake in Sri Lanka. I wanted the attention to stay on the Bahamas because the work had hardly even begun. We’re coming up to a year later and people are still living in tents; there is still no power; the government is still fairly ineffectual when it comes to those hurricane victims.”

Though India built a social media following (some 223k followers) promoting her branded fashion items and sharing aesthetic glimpses of her life flitting between England and the Bahamas, she recognised immediately that her platform could – and should – be utilised to promote her charitable efforts: “I realised that I was lucky enough to have built some following from a social media standpoint, and suddenly there was some point to the social media – which was being able to tell these stories … I think people were ready to listen, so I was able to raise money as well as get a message out.”

“If we’re living in an age where social media has such an importance, then let’s use it if we can. The disappointing part of this, of course, is that people are much more interested in my dog, and my daughter making donuts than they are in the charity work we do – so I try … to come at it from a slightly different point of view. I’m now trying to think more creatively about the messaging of it all – but you have to be very careful that it’s not all ‘me, me, me’. And, yet, the way that we’re able to raise money is through me talking about it. So I feel slightly conflicted there.”

By experiencing first-hand the effects of the hurricane on her community, India describes feeling that she had been given “a new job – a new purpose”; she tells me about the importance of communicating stories when asking for people’s donations, emphasising the significance of how requests for help are conveyed in relation to securing contributions: “It’s finding ways of finessing stories in order to keep coming back to the same audience and asking for more.”

While the Bahamas might sound an exotically ‘far away’ location to the British reader, the desolation of the hurricane couldn’t have been closer to home for India, who described the aftermath as “happening right on my doorstep – literally. At the end of my drive, there are families who have been so affected by the tourism economy closing down overnight that there are a staggering amount of families who can no longer feed themselves.”

But as the devastation caused by the disaster are localised, so too are relief efforts: India works in a team which was drawn from residents of the community, each contributing skills to the operation of a wide-spread aid effort. India herself sits-in on discussions with their local MP, church and school authorities, and the local councils. 

India’s close involvement in the organisation of efforts to rebuild the island and support its inhabitants, she says, is crucial: “If I’m asking someone to donate money – whether it be $20 or $20,000 – I am able to assure that person … I can hear the decisions that are being made; I get out at 6:30am on a Saturday and I’m there packing the bags; I see the church vehicles going out; I see the recipients – I see the process from beginning to end … When you give us your dollars, I can account for it. I know where every cent is going – there’s transparency from beginning to end.” 

However, being so intimately affiliated with the community she and the team work to restore, she has come across the moral complexities of charity work: “It becomes really difficult when it comes down to the ‘need’ versus the ‘want’ – who wants the food bag, who needs the food bag.” A fair means of decision seems to be that the leaders of the islands’ churches decide who most urgently needs the food and supplies provided by the team.

The recent wake of COVID-19 added to the Bahamian devestation: with a significant proportion of the island relying on the profits from tourism and travel, the necessary halt of tourist footfall to the islands is perhaps a lesser-considered effect of the pandemic: “I’m daily having conversations with people about when the borders will open; when the tourists will be back; ‘when do we think the food bank needs to be teamed until?’; ‘when will life get back to normal?’”

While the residents of the islands are keen to see tourists return, bringing with them much-needed revenue, India reflects on her own situation amidst the uncertainty of travel. Considering herself a ‘global’ sort of person, India has children at school in the UK, the US, and a mother and family in England. “Suddenly, I feel much more remote,” she says; “much more isolated than I have for the twenty-four years [of living in the Bahamas] … it makes me very nervous that I may have to make tougher decisions about when I get to see my mother and if I’m able to freely travel and come back and forth.”

Reflecting on her childhood in Oxfordshire, India considers how it might be if she were isolating with her family back in the UK: “If I lived in Oxford, I wouldn’t have this innate fear, because I would be in a much bigger country, my mother would be two fields away, my kids could possibly go to college somewhere in England. But, because we’ve built a global life for ourselves, I am fearful what the future holds … My fear is that I have taken travel for granted. I’ve taken the fact that I live in the Bahamas, but can nip on a flight at a fairly reasonable price over to England. I’ve seen the world like that – that it is so global, that it is so easy to travel. And now, suddenly, that is probably going to be removed – the luxury of being able to travel when I want.”

India spoke of the precariousness of the situation – how she feels that she’s “blindly finding [my] way forward, because nobody knows when the effects of the closures will ease-up. Really, we’ve been doing a lot of work in raising awareness and raising money. The challenges are there, of course – as it’s global, it’s very hard.” But she continues to work hard to alleviate the twofold devastation of the hurricane and COVID-19 on her community, and she – along with her fellow Bahamians – will undoubtedly celebrate when travel resumes.

Donations can be made here to support families whose jobs have been lost or put on hold due to the coronavirus pandemic.

Ode to an empty Oxford

And all at once, the world of an Oxford undergrad seemed to stop turning. Those who had often barrelled into friends’ rooms to save them from “editing an essay” (scrolling through Facebook in a melancholy reverie) no longer intrude with a tea-mug in hand, cheap Prosecco swashing over the rim. The usual bustle of tourists, gaping at the spires of the Bodleian, no longer collide with students who, struggling to reach Exam Schools in time for their 11am lecture, impatiently brush past them, the sandstone heights of the imposing colleges jostling for space on the High Street so familiar that they have ceased to impress.

Gone are the moments of spontaneity that see books tossed into bags in favour of a quick drink among friends at the King’s Arms, or rushes to the Covered Market to shovel in a few mouthfuls of Thai food before a tutorial or an afternoon slog at the library. There are no more dawn-awakenings for a morning training at Cowley, treading the cobblestones of Radcliffe Square, silent for once, while the moon’s mellow face still lingers in the inky sky, cycling over Magdalen Bridge among other early risers as the city stirs from its slumber. No more sighs of relief as that particularly draining essay is finally submitted, nor grudging concessions to the cajoles of gin-softened friends dragging you from your desk to a late-entry at Bridge.

The college doors are barred, the books lie forgotten, their yellowed, curling pages unthumbed, the quads no longer echo with passing, light-hearted exchanges or 3am stumbling returns from Hassan’s. The bells of St. Mary’s do not disturb grumbling, hung-over students with their early chimes, nor do the windows of the Missing Bean overlooking Lincoln’s ivy-clad walls fog up from the huddles of bodies hunched over notes on Spanish literature and Freudian philosophy. The cider taps of the Turf Tavern do not flow, nor is the surface of the Isis broken by the slicing oars of Balliol rowers, the river carrying newly-hatched ducklings and snow-feathered swans rather than students balanced precariously on punting boats with a Pimms-induced confidence. No Mayday song echoes through the city’s sun-bleached streets from Magdalen Bridge, and no streamers and shaving cream paint the old cobbles, sodden with Lambrini and dotted with sunken red carnations. No-one blissfully strolls through the meadows of Christ Church, awash with a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues as wildflowers burst into life, nor are lichen-pocked college walls illuminated with the glow of dancing spotlights in the jubilation of a summer ball.

Instead, the gardens of Lady Margaret Hall spread forth their creeping vines without the restraint of a groundsman’s careful hand, and the grass of untrodden lacrosse pitches in University Parks grows freely. The geraniums crowding the window boxes of the Old Quad of Brasenose gleefully bask their faces in the sunlight that streams through the stained-glass windows of empty chapels still reverberating with their last Evensong. The winding wooden staircases of the Bodleian are given a moment’s respite from the constant creaking weight of students searching for that last vital book on their reading list, while the cobbles of the old streets, worn smooth by hordes of tourists and time-pressed students, begin to be softened by carpets of green moss growing through cracks in the stone. The statues of 17th century scholars keep guard over this hallowed place of learning, watching the house martins and sparrows flit between college bell towers, bursting with a birdsong that once competed with the cacophony of the everyday hustle.

Now more than ever, the city seems frozen in time, resembling a former age where those same moth-eaten pages were read deep into the sacred hours of the night, but by the light of a candle, dripping wax over a parchment of notes scribbled hastily by a feathered quill, rather than in the glow of a laptop screen. Where then, as now, the city was awash with a passion for learning and a hopeful yearning for a brighter tomorrow. Though stripped of the daily hubbub and empty of the flow of young minds and hearts that throng through college doors, seeming to power the very city with their energy, Oxford retains its charm.

The world may seem to have stopped turning, but the beauty and heart of the city remains to those whose eyes are open to it. Which begs the question, are the students the life-force of Oxford, or is it the city itself which breathes life into those who study here?

Illustration by Charlotte Bunney

After 30 years Liverpool are Premier League Champions

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1990 was an important year for Liverpool fans. Liverpool won their 18th league title and their last one before 2020. The Premier League was yet to be born, Pingu had just graced British TV, and Margaret Thatcher was still Prime Minister.

Many young Liverpool fans, myself included, weren’t around to celebrate that victory. For many of us, our fondest memories of Liverpool have taken place out of the domestic tournaments: Istanbul 2005 sticks out, as does our 4-3 comeback against Dortmund and 4-0 against Barcelona. Finally, under Klopp, we’ve all got another great memory with such an incredible club. Liverpool has finally won the Premier League.

I’ve heard us described as a ‘glorified Blackburn’ (by a Villa fan…). Many like to joke about LiVARpool (note: see any of the tables where Liverpool are still at the top when VAR is removed). Even Twitter users are going to have to move on to a new club with new jokes. Without (and partly thanks to) the snake Sterling, or Coutinho, or anyone else people said we needed to win a title, Liverpool have silenced the haters. Call us the unbearable if you must, but we’ve done it. Give us an asterisk or complain about starting the league up again in June rather than scrapping it; it won’t make this moment any less real or valid.

With a captain rejected by Alex Ferguson and young full-backs that are present in almost everyone’s fantasy team, Liverpool has proven that spending the most money isn’t the most important thing. There is something special about Liverpool – the passion from the team and fans is incredible. Look at Man City, who weren’t even able to fill their fan cams in the empty stadiums (which might still be a record attendance for the Emptyhad). The difference is clear with Liverpool: we wanted this, and it showed. Throughout the year, the fans have been incredible, and watching clips of the players celebrating Man City’s defeat show just how much this means to the squad too. Klopp was even willing to bust out some dance moves. Whoever said that those with LFC champions tattoos were prematurely celebrating have finally shut up.

A lot of people will say that we’ve ONLY won one Premier League. They want to believe that this is a one-off, and Liverpool will be waiting another 30 years for their next title. They argue that we’ve been lucky, Bobby Firmino isn’t the greatest centre forward in the modern game, and Salah is a one-season wonder. These are also, coincidentally, the supporters who think City is a club of great history, Rashford is as good as Messi or Everton are a club deserving of a Champion’s League spot. That is, they’re all in a state of delusion.

Liverpool are the reigning champions of Europe, the reigning champions of the world and now the champions of England. You Never Walk Alone.

Review: Repeat Attenders

In Repeat Attenders (2020), a legion of loyalists to musical theatre take their turn in the spotlight. The documentary introduces us to repeat attenders of theatre shows through a sensationalist lens. It opens with Sally Frith in Paddington Station, on her way to see Les Miserables for the 977th time. (Yes, you read that right). From there we meet a series of superfans, some of whose dedication makes even Frith’s pale in comparison. One fan, investment banker Joel Torrance, even has her beat on attendance numbers – he’s seen Rent 1,169 times.

Many of these superfans turn to musical theatre as a form of escapism. Gudrun Mangel suffered emotional abuse from her parents in her childhood, but finds comfort in watching Starlight Express. Christine Bogle loves dressing up as characters from Cats, but after explaining her love for the musical, says: “The worst part is feeling like me again”. Others leave you disturbed: Michael Falkner was jailed for stalking Beauty and the Beast star Debbie Gibson. At the end of the documentary, we’re left wondering if the repeat attenders are dealing with their issues in a healthy way. Even at a relatively moderate level of repeat attendance, there is the financial cost of theatre tickets and memorabilia; at its most extreme, the admiration can turn into obsession.

But short of that dangerous extreme, is the devotion of repeat attenders really so bad? I don’t think so. To me, the love and appreciation which drives the superfan’s repeat attendance is something which is very relatable. More than that, it empowers both the theatre industry at large and the repeat attenders themselves.

The intensity of the superfans’ devotion is not as strange as you might first think. Some might find watching the same show over and over again repetitive and uninteresting. But the avid superfans aren’t looking for something new or different each time they see a show. It is the sense of familiarity that keeps drawing them back for more. Just as comfort food or re-runs of The Office never seem to get old, repeated viewings of the shows don’t lose their magic for the devoted superfans. There is something about the stories being told that resonate with repeat attenders. The fact that they can laugh at jokes and revel in performances they have seen and heard so many times before is a testament to how captivating these shows are and the strength of the repeat attender’s empathy in connecting to the characters on stage.  

This relationship between repeat attenders and the shows they love is not just one-sided. It’s symbiotic. Repeat Attenders shows us how the fans rely on the shows for joy and catharsis. At the same time, commercial theatres rely to a significant degree on the business generated by repeat visitors, a demographic that includes those who see the same show twice or thrice to those who have seen it hundreds of times. Styhre’s empirical study in Perception and Organisation: Art, Music and Media suggests that Broadway musicals like Miss Saigon and Cats relied on the predictable demographic of repeat visitors to sell tickets, especially in off-peak seasons. For the underdog shows in smaller, independent theatres, the superfans’ support means even more. It could make a real difference to the theatre’s bottom line.

Then, there is also the close relationship which repeat attenders have with each other.  In Repeat Attenders, we see superfans discuss the shows they love, dress up in character, and perform in tribute acts together. They bond over their shared love of theatre. More than anything else, being a repeat attender is about connecting with other – both the actors on stage and their fellow fans. Although repeat attenders will have to miss out on their shows as theatres stay closed during the COVID-19 pandemic, they still have the camaraderie they’ve found in the superfan community. The heart of the superfan’s repeat attendance is in indulging themselves in what makes them happy and share their appreciation with each other. There are surely worse ways to live.

Review: The Radio Show at the End of the World

‘The Radio Show at the End of the World’ is a radio play by the Oxford University Light Entertainment Society (OULES), available for free on their YouTube channel. It is set during the end of the world, when multiple apocalypses are occurring simultaneously, with an incredibly vast cast of characters that need to face the situation – whether as heroes, villains, or simple spectators. We follow some peculiar scientists, obtuse soldiers, a radio station, an unlikely group of survivors, and many more. Thanks to very competent directing (Val Gladkova), this complex play manages to be a tonally cohesive, thoroughly enjoyable piece of media.

The atmosphere of the play feels very absurdist, with numerous comedic pieces but also some dark undertones. It is eerie and bizarre and chaotic, but in such a way that immediately captures the audience’s attention and holds it in place for the whole two and a half hours. This is a testament to the wonderful writing (Em Fawcett, Ekin Pehlivan), which shifts tones with ease – from satirical to serious, for instance – while still maintaining an underlying consistency.

The cast works incredibly well as an ensemble. All actors performed splendidly, from the adorably paranoid Mitchell (Charlie Gill) to the responsible, sensible Alder (Ana Pagu), and from the childish, weird Young (Maya Walker) to the slightly otherwordly, mysterious Brian Cox (Maddie Hall). Of note were the characters of Roger Blighty (Em Fawcett), an insufferable professional complainer, and Oakley (Val Gladkova), a pretentious Philosophy student, who manage to be terribly obnoxious while still making the audience care for them in the end. Tom Vallely also offers a great performance as the sensitive, world-destroying creature DVORSHAK, arguably one of the best characters of the play.

The sound editing of this play is simply incredible; the sound effects are never out of place, with great comedic timing. The variety of sounds used is also impressive, and the effort put into creating sonically interesting and cohesive definitely pays off. One of the best audio features of the play is the brilliantly written songs and catchy jingles. They are often unexpected and extremely entertaining, with good singing performances and arrangements. But what really stands out are the cheeky and textually-rich lyrics, which complement the zany tone of the play very well.

The world-building is incredibly intricate. Since the setting is contemporary, it may seem peculiar that so much time is devoted to showing the context. But the play starts in medias res, and the audience needs to adapt quickly to everything that is happening, so there are several setting-up scenes. It is quite pleasing to see how a play devoid of visuals manages to be so descriptive about the characters’ surroundings, as radio plays are often vague in this respect. This world felt very real and present around the cast, who were not simply reciting dialogue in a void: thanks to the brilliant sound edits, they seem to actively interact with their world, which makes for a very immersive experience.

The play is quite long, and with so many characters it can sometimes feel like one is losing track of who is who, or of whether we have met a certain character before. Luckily, that only happens with minor characters, and forgetting some names is not the end of the world, as the voices and personalities are distinct enough that the confusion is minimal. Still, at times some scenes may feel slightly pointless, or as if they are there only to offer some quirky, funny moments. While I think that there is some truth to that, I usually found that very scene served a purpose, even if just to set the tone or highlight particular aspects of the world. ‘The Radio Show at the End of the World’ is strongly recommended, as it handles a convoluted plot and a large cast of characters extremely well. With its sophisticated production, it makes for an exceptionally entertaining listen.

The Global Backslide of LGBTQ+ Rights: what’s happening and what you can do about it

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CW: homophobia, transphobia, mention of violence towards LGBTQ+ people

As Pride month draws to a close, it can be comforting to look back on the advancement in LGBTQ+ rights which much of the world has witnessed over the past three decades. In the 2019 British Social Attitudes survey, 66% of respondents said there was nothing wrong with same-sex relationships, up from 11% three decades prior. However, LGBTQ+ people in the UK still face discrimination and are disproportionately victims of hate crime, showing that Britain is by no means a perfect society when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights. Internationally, the picture is more alarming still. From Hungary to the USA, conservative governments have launched an all-out assault on LGBTQ+ communities, seeking to deprive them of hard won civil rights. Therefore, while Pride should be a celebration of Britain’s vibrant LGBTQ+ community, we must also always remember that queer people still face discrimination, even across much of what we would consider the developed world.

In recent decades following limited liberalisation in the wake of the USSR’s collapse, Russia has become the epicentre of LGBTQ+ rights backsliding. Infamously in 2013 the Kremlin enacted laws criminalising so-called “LGBTQ+ propaganda”. This has been seen by many as an attempt by Putin to sure-up his conservative base following economic stagnation; however, it created a deeply hostile environment for LGBTQ+ people within Russia, one which has only grown the years since. On the 1st of July, Russians voted in a constitutional referendum to, as well give Putin wider dictatorial powers, further entrench homophobic attitudes in Russian law. In particular, it will give constitutional authority to the view that marriage can only be between a man and a woman. These reforms have won the blessing of, among many prominent Russians, Russia’s deeply reactionary Orthodox Church. Alongside this, the violent persecution of LGBTQ+ people continues in the southern region of Chechnya, as documented on the new film “Welcome to Chechnya: The Gay Purge”, which will be available on the BBC in July. This documents how since 2017 the Chechen regional government have launched a violent crackdown on LGBTQ+ rights going beyond even any of Putin’s edicts, as gay and trans people face state sanctioned torture and abduction.

While Russia’s persecution of LGBTQ+ people is well known in what is considered the West, gay and transgender rights have also been under assault in countries like Hungary and Poland, both members of the EU and NATO. In Hungary, the totalitarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban, emboldened by new emergency powers, has passed transphobic legislation as the rest of the EU deals with coronavirus. Under Hungary’s new laws, legal acknowledgement of transgender people has been ended. The edict defines gender as based on chromosomes at birth, meaning trans people will be given neither medical help to transition nor legal recognition of their gender identities. The law also prevents people from changing their names to align with their gender identity, meaning their name on official documents may appear disjointed from the outward appearance of trans people. Opposition leader Bernadett Szél has pointed to this as a particularly repressive clause, as in Hungary it is required to show ID cards for a number of daily activities like collecting post, thereby meaning trans people will be forced to out themselves on a daily basis. In a country where 69% of the vote went to far-right parties, this obviously presents a danger to LGBTQ+ people’s safety.

Similarly, Poland has over the past five years seen increasing government repression towards LGBTQ+ rights. While this has been less extreme than in Hungary or Russia, the ruling Law and Justice Party are nonetheless avidly homophobic, having supported the creation of “LGBTQ+ free-zones” in more than 80 of Poland’s municipalities. However, on July 12th, Poland is going to the polls in a presidential election to choose between incumbent Law and Justice president Andrzej Duda and the more liberal Mayor of Warsaw, Rafał Trzaskowski. The former has campaigned on a heavily anti-LGBTQ+ ticket, calling LGBTQ+ acceptance an “ideology worse than communism” and vowing to defend Poland’s children from the so-called “ideology”. Duda has committed support from Poles in rural areas, with a majority of Polish men saying in a recent survey that the LGBTQ+ rights movement was the greatest threat to the country. Trzaskowski on the other hand, while having avoided LGBTQ+ issues on the campaign trail, has in the past supported protection for LGBTQ+ people and marched in Warsaw’s 2019 gay pride parade. In the first round of voting Duda won 44% of the vote to Trzaskowski’s 30%, with polls stating that the run-off vote is too close to call. Were Trzaskowski to triumph, he would be able to use the president’s veto power to block attempts by the Law and Justice controlled parliament to enact further discriminatory legislation.

However, it’s not enough to think that it is only in the ‘illiberal democracies’ of Poland and Hungary that LGBT rights are under threat. Under Donald Trump the US government in 2019 banned transgender people from enlisting in the armed forces unless they did so under their birth sex assignment. Further, in June 2020, in the middle of Pride month, the Department of Health said it would be basing its interpretation of sex discrimination on biology at birth. In effect, this meant that hospital and insurance companies would now be able to refuse cover for transition-related care. However, unlike in Hungary and Poland, American institutions have proven more resilient to Trump’s attacks on LGBTQ+ rights. This was evidenced by the Supreme Court’s 15th June ruling that workplace discrimination based on sexuality and gender identity was illegal, going against the policy of the Trump administration.

Other so-called Western countries have also seen a pushback against LGBTQ+ rights; notably in Spain the Vox Party, which calls for curbs on gay Pride parades and a ban on same-sex adoption, won 14% of the vote in last year’s election.

Therefore, while we might be tempted to celebrate the success of the LGBTQ+ rights movement, we must always be vigilant of following the dangerous path of places like the US. It is particularly worrying that British Social Attitudes mentioned at the start of this piece actually recorded a 2% drop in the acceptance of same-sex relationships compared to 2018. As well as being aware of the dangers our own society faces, LGBTQ+ people and allies should do all in their power to help the victims of LGBTQ+ discrimination abroad.

For readers in EU countries, the most effective way might be to contact your local MEPs to encourage the EU to bring action against Hungary and Poland. For Britons, while we are no longer a member of the EU, we can still write to our MPs to lobby for increased government action against regimes which threaten LGBTQ+ rights.

It is crucial that we remain constantly aware of the campaigns which brought us our civil rights, and continue the struggle to maintain them both at home and abroad. The cases of Poland, Hungary, and the US show the dangers of complacency, and we owe it to the disempowered in those countries to do what we can to stand with and support them.

Readers can find below a list of Stonewall’s partner charities for the countries mentioned in this article, many of which desperately need support.

Russian LGBT Network

Polish Society of Anti-Discrimination Law

Gay, Lesbian and Straight Educators Network

Acropoli

For confidential advice and support, you can contact Switchboard at 0300 330 0630, 10am to 10pm, every day, or email them at [email protected]. All phone operators are LGBTQ+.