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Review: William Lowry’s ‘Zeitgeist’ at Trinity College

Image Credit: William Lowry


Zeitgeist
 

The general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of an era

One Sunday afternoon last term, myself and two friends went along to an art exhibition at Trinity College. Upon entering a darkened room, we were immediately struck by an intense, almost bewildering soundscape, and before us were strange, industrial sculptures. This, as it turned out, was merely a first impression. 

William Lowry is a recent graduate of The Ruskin School of Art, having also received the Ashmolean Museum’s Vivien Leigh Prize and the Emery Prize from Pembroke College. Lowry is a multidisciplinary artist, and his work combines drawing, printmaking, sculpture and sound to probe themes of personal and collective memory, masculinity and queer desire, myth and modernity. In this sense, Zeitgeist was no different. 

‘Structure I’, located in the centre of the installation was a Berghain-esque model of a building atop a metal stand which sat in something of a reflecting pool. Within the ‘windows’ of the building were detailed biro sketches of athletic men, with strange faces reminiscent of Goya’s Black paintings. ‘Structure II’, to the left, was the largest. A tall church-style window framed another biro sketch of athletic male physique, a man tumbling upside-down. The athleticism was further suggested by the artist’s use of a weights rack, such as one would find in a gym. On the floor, mirroring the frame, was a gravel track, flanked by chains and topped by miniature propaganda-style pennant flags, again displaying the male physique.

‘Structure III’ occupied the right-hand side of the room, a circular layered piece again surrounded by miniature pennant flags and a picket fence. What intrigued me most, however, were the waves of red light, which isolated the piece in an ominous glow. Behind this was ‘Structure IV’, a crooked church tower atop a stand which itself stood in an oil spill. Here, again, the windows revealed muscles and contorted faces. A lone searchlight, positioned behind the viewer, periodically brought one’s own silhouette into focus on the far wall.

But perhaps the most striking aspect of this installation was the series of images projected onto the back wall, accompanied by a dynamic original soundtrack. Clips of industry, metal fences and light shows were followed by ‘Zeitgeist’ or ‘Jetzt’ (now/nowadays) which were projected in huge letters, but only for a moment. Further images included strips of light, which flashed all manner of colours, and strange, undefinable shapes which were merely tangles of lines. The music was synchronised cleverly with the images, and ranged from calming ambient textures, to industrial techno and dark synthesisers. My friends and I stood watching this succession of images for ages. The audio-visual experience produced a trance-like effect, which was fascinating in its darkness, but also unnerving in its unpredictability. It was genuinely difficult to look away, there was something of an alternate reality about it.

However you may define art (be it through purely aesthetic qualities, the artist’s intention, its purpose etc.) this was an installation that held our attention for far longer than a moment. But in many ways, that was the genius of Lowry’s work. Once in that room, the depth of material and media made it impossible to soon leave. 

Alien structures and shapes combined with familiar human musculature to give a strange effect, as did the imagery and intense soundtrack. Whilst each piece could be appreciated as an artistic feat in itself, the strength of this installation lay in their coming together. Only by immersing oneself in the room for an extended period did one truly appreciate this as a consummate multimedia experience. It was intriguing and unsettling in equal measure, and it stayed with us long after we’d left Trinity.

William Lowry has an upcoming solo exhibition at Pembroke College Gallery from 2nd–6th March. See more of his work on Instagram: @williamlowry.art

The winter of of our discontent: Heating in Oxford’s student accommodation

Image credit: Quadrangleeditor/CC SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Winter in Oxford is decidedly cold. Starting in October, temperatures drop from over 20 degrees Celsius to freezing, sometimes overnight. While many student rooms at Oxford’s colleges still have vestigial fireplaces, the heating today runs almost entirely on gas and electricity. This system is certainly efficient, but it does give colleges the ability to control the heating that students receive in their accommodation. And what happens when colleges turn the heating off?

Heating and health

All student accommodation is required to be kept at a safe and healthy temperature, defined by the NHS as above 18 degrees Celsius for bedrooms and above 21 degrees Celsius for living rooms and other communal spaces. Below these temperatures, the NHS warns, people are more likely to suffer from weakened immune systems and fall ill. And the illnesses can be serious. According to the NHS, lower room temperatures make occupants more susceptible to increased blood pressure and can increase risk of heart attacks, strokes, and chest infections. 

The policy that colleges should adopt seems fairly straightforward in theory – keep the student accommodation at a safe and healthy temperature. But in practice, there are many questions that arise with no clear answer. Must colleges turn the heating on at night? Should students have control of the thermostat in their room? When in autumn should colleges turn on the heating? The policies that colleges adopt in light of these complications are crucial and influence how frequently students get ill during Oxford’s short terms, where missing even a few days due to illness can be an enormous setback.

On or off at night

Many colleges have policies of keeping the heating on during the night, albeit often at lower temperatures than during the day. At Corpus Christi College, for instance, the default temperature for student rooms is 20 degrees Celsius during the day and 17 degrees Celsius at night (10 pm to 6:30 am) and “non-peak hours” (10:30 am to 4:30 pm). For students who desire warmer temperatures, there is also a “comfort mode” that boosts the daytime temperature to 23 degrees Celsius and the nighttime/non-peak temperatures to 20 degrees Celsius. 

Other colleges have more controversially experimented with turning the heating off completely at night. At the beginning of Michaelmas 2023, Cherwell investigated Keble College’s new policy of cutting nighttime heating and the opposing student petition that resulted from the policy. One Keble student recently told Cherwell that despite the student petition and increased pressure on the college to keep the heating turned on at night, Keble refused to go back to its old policy. Instead, it set up a complaints form for students adversely affected by the lack of nighttime heat.

One of Keble’s stated reasons for limiting the amount of heat consumption was the college’s determination “to take action to address the climate crisis and become more sustainable.” However, some students have expressed scepticism that these environmental reasons, and not penny-pinching, are the true motivations behind the college policy. “They turn it [the heating] off … at night under the guise of sustainability” one student told Cherwell on social media.

Another student at St. Catherine’s College told Cherwell that she faced similar problems with insufficient heating in student accommodation: “Catz never has the heating on. They’ll tell you to fill in the maintenance request form, they come and ‘fix’ it and it still doesn’t work so I’ve had to borrow a portable heater from the porter’s lodge in winter. They told us the heating is off from 11 pm – 6 am officially.”

A second-year Lincoln College student complained about a lack of transparency on the issue of nighttime heating. She told Cherwell that, as a night owl, she preferred to do her work later in the evening but that it was “difficult to do work in [her] room when it’s freezing.” She further claimed that she did not remember receiving any advance communication from Lincoln stating it would be turning her heating off at night.

The hunt for warm October

The task of deciding when in autumn to turn on heating in student accommodation proves contentious each year. Colleges generally turn heating on sometime in October, but many have historically delayed the introduction of heating to the last possible moment and only reneged after significant student pressure. 

During Michaelmas 2023, with temperatures regularly dropping below 10 degrees Celsius, St. Hugh’s College elected to turn on the heating on 13 October ahead of the scheduled 31 October. A facebook post from the St. Hugh’s JCR President at the time read: “Complaints have worked and college will be turning on the heating early (today) instead of the 31st.”

Even after this announcement, however, students reportedly faced issues getting heating in their rooms. The college sent another email on 17 October that read: “As the system has been switched off for months over the summer and has had to be turned on in a hurry without the usual pre-checks, we experienced some start-up issues in a few isolated parts of the site earlier this week.” 

A first-year St. Hugh’s student told Cherwell that she did not accept the claim about “a few isolated sites” since the problem “was happening a lot in the main building.” Another St. Hugh’s student informed Cherwell on social media that in order to get the heating turned on students “were literally buying thermometers to show the college it was colder than 16 degrees in rooms.”

In response, St. Hugh’s told Cherwell: “It is our policy to turn the heating on early in the event of a cold weather snap such as the one forecast on 16 October 2023. The decision to turn on the heating was routine and not in response to any student complaints. The College did receive reports of problems with the heating in some buildings on 16 October, but these were all resolved either later that day or the following morning.”

St. Hugh’s was not the only college accused of employing this tactic. A Pembroke College student told Cherwell that his college did not turn on the heating in his room until three weeks into term (mid-to-late October). By this point, temperatures were already regularly falling below 5 degrees Celsius. 

Pay as you go

Another issue colleges must contend with is how much to charge students for heating. Most colleges solve this problem by adjusting the fixed total accommodation fees to reflect the cost of electricity and gas. 

According to one second-year student at Jesus College, however, the cost of heating at Jesus’ off-site accommodation is not factored into the fixed accommodation costs. Instead, students pay for the heating that they use during term. While this might seem like an efficient way to ensure that students use what they pay for and pay for what they use, in practice, it has the effect of incentivising less affluent students – who are looking to save money wherever possible – to freeze. One Jesus student affected by this policy told Cherwell: “My flatmates and I all winter have avoided turning the heating on because we know the energy prices are both expensive and opaque.”


He continued ironically: “Sometimes it is funny to wake up and see your breath condensing in a cloud of fog but I believe the experience overall has brought us together as friends and certainly saved us a few pound sterling.”

This policy of “pay-as-you-go” has attracted criticism similar to the criticism levelled against the policy of providing financial scholarships for high preliminary exam results. In both cases, detractors allege that the students who are the most well off and who thus require the least help are the ones who receive assistance, while the low-income students who are already at a disadvantage only fall further behind.

In response, some say that in the real world, people pay for heating on this basis. But others argue that at university, accommodation should be egalitarian, not differentiated based on ability or willingness to pay extra for utilities as essential as heating. 

This list of issues related to heating in student accommodation is by no means exhaustive. There were dozens of student complaints submitted to Cherwell, and they all deserve attention for which there is not sufficient space in this investigation. What should be clear is that with so many students suffering from lack of heating in their accommodation, we are in the winter of our discontent. And glorious summer won’t be here for a while.

A fresh(er’s) perspective on Michaelmas term

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When I transitioned from GCSEs to A Levels, my mum and I created a mantra: “you have to float before you swim, otherwise you’ll sink”. It was a way for me to remember that I was learning, not just academically – but also personally. Sometimes, you have to let a new experience come at you like a tidal wave before you can try to interact with it, control it, and make the most of it. One of the first things I did after moving into my accommodation in Freshers’ Week was to write this little mantra on a post-it note and Sellotape it to the wall next to my bed.  

University life is completely alien to anything I have experienced before. You would expect the excitement of being an ‘Oxford Student’ to disappear – after all, everyone here got into Oxford. For me, it did not disappear exactly; it was buried. Everyone has their moments of being excited about being here, whether it is their first walk past the Rad Cam on the way to a lecture, or simply Matriculation, but no one says it aloud. The reality that I was attending Oxford University didn’t hit me until I was taking down my room decorations at the end of term; I was imagining what I would say to my friends from home about my first term, comparing it to their university experience.   

I visited a friend at Nottingham University – my second week, her third – and I was outraged.  She had not written a single essay while I had already written three, and we were both studying English. But still I felt like she had done so much more than me: her flat-mates made her social life look just as exciting  as the one she had at home, while I hadn’t formed a close circle of friends yet. It wasn’t until that visit that I realised how completely different Oxford is as a university experience, defined by its short terms, heavy workloads, and small class sizes.  

My social life was strange to begin with. Looking back at photos of Freshers’ Week and seeing the crowd of people I befriended on day one, whom I have not since spoken to, is hilarious. Leaving Atik early on a Wednesday night because “I’ve got to translate some riddles tomorrow!” is never something that I imagined people to accept without mockery, but being surrounded by like-minded people is not just a cliché from a personal statement: it’s something that has made university life feel like everything I wanted it to be.  

My approach to Michaelmas term was that it was a trial run for the rest of my university experience. I signed up to many societies at Freshers Fair so that I was on the mailing list but did not have any time to attend any meetings. I don’t regret that. Now, I’m walking into Hilary feeling like I know how to live independently and how to do my degree (more than I knew in October, at least). With Michaelmas completed, I know how much time my degree takes, and therefore how much time I have left to dedicate to societies and sports. 

Stage one of my mantra has been completed: I have learned how to ‘float’ and how to get by at university. As I am packing my suitcase for Hilary term, I am preparing to start stage two – ‘swimming’, and thriving. The new term coinciding with the new year works perfectly – after a break for reflection, I get to give it another shot. 

Bled dry: the financial plight of international students.

Image Credit: Addison YC/ CC BY-SA 2.0 DEED Via Flickr

“Oxford is committed to ensuring that no one who is offered a place is unable to study here for financial reasons.” The financial anxieties of those browsing the Oxford University website will likely be soothed by such a reassuring message, highlighting the institution’s commitment to accessibility. The prospective international student may later be a bit confused by the Undergraduate Financial Guide, circulated across the different colleges at the beginning of the year. When advising students on how to assess financial struggles, the document simply asks: “Did you ensure that you would have sufficient funds to cover all costs before you came to Oxford?” If there was any hope of softening the financial blow of overseas tuition, it is surely long gone. 

Oxford is undoubtedly expensive. Whether from the UK or overseas, university in general is always an extra expense for all, in tuition and in living costs. It doesn’t help that, at £9,250 per year, UK higher education is among the most expensive in Europe (for its own home students!). Consequently, the satisfaction of getting accepted can be eclipsed by concerns about covering the costs. Financial anxieties are a reality for the vast majority of students; these worries are certainly not alleviated for international students, who must come to terms with the fact that the already daunting price of Oxford can be more than four times higher. Course fees for 2024 range from £33,050 to £48,620, and even the less expensive humanities degrees, like History or Law, remain at £38,550. 

On top of the significant fee increase, overseas applicants cannot access the state-funded UK student finance scheme, or even Oxford-specific bursaries. We have no general financial assessments or needs-based loan schemes. I remember studying for some of my last high school exams and procrastinating by using the scholarship search tool on the Oxford website. Unsurprisingly, the results came up blank every time. International students are limited to the very few private funds designed by individual alumni or external organisations that offer limited grants targeted to specific groups, like nationals of certain countries or particular degrees. If you don’t fall under the eligibility requirements, there is nothing else the University will do. The widest grant available is Reach Oxford, which includes a list of ‘low-income countries.’ Regardless, only around three of these grants are given each academic year, and the eligibility requirements automatically exclude many countries. 

Clearly, financial support for international students is less than ideal, and many resort to private loans (and possibly lifetime debt?). But, in the commendable effort of advocating for much-needed change, some arguments for financial support for international students make the mistake of disregarding the importance given to home students. Oxford University is a public institution, so a significant proportion of its funding comes from the state; more than £100 million a year come from the UK public sector just in research funds, per the University’s Financial Statements. Oxford is funded by taxpayers’ money, a demographic in which international students are not included. A university like Oxford, where excellence is possible precisely because of the British population’s financial contribution, must commit to ensuring the highest level of accessibility for home students. The support given to home students is still not perfect, and it is surely reasonable for UK universities to focus on access for UK students.

However, it seems nonsensical to accept that a University with an endowment of £1.7bn can only choose between one or the other. An institution that boasts about the large proportion of international students within its student population cannot afford to leave them to fend for themselves. If Oxford wants a shiny website advertising a “ready-made international community” and a commitment to making “significant contributions to society – locally, nationally and internationally”, then improving support for home students should not come at the cost of ignoring access issues for international students. 

From conversations with other international students, some of the frustration caused by the lack of resources has been inevitably directed back to our home countries. Oxford is a competitive university, and it’s easy to question why our governments won’t encourage us to get a good education and fund our degrees. But this is naïve: if your home country refuses to finance your Oxford degiree, it’s likely because it already has decent (or good, or excellent) public universities. A case may be made for STEM students, but what does an EU country like mine have to gain from my post-Brexit, English law degree? 

However, international students are not the only ones who benefit from studying here. At the end of the day, an overseas student is just like any other. Applicants receive offers based on their potential, regardless of origin. Presumably, any university will want to help the people it selects to actually be able to study there. Advertising a competitive admissions process would, in the same way, surely mean that there is interest in hosting those who succeed in it. 

It is also simply not accurate to say Oxford is only interested in international students for the high fees – before Brexit became effective, EU students paying home fees were still consistently being accepted. But even if this were true, I don’t think anyone expects international tuition fees to suddenly drop to £9,250. A general, needs-based student loan system for overseas students from any country would allow for some financial relief for students (without doing away with higher fees altogether).  

Additionally, diversity is beneficial to any university campus, a goal towards which support for overseas students is also key. As the University tries to fight its elitist reputation, it seems counterintuitive to restrict international entry only to those who are privileged enough to pay out of pocket while pushing any others towards substantial debt. 

Studying abroad is supposed to be a uniquely enriching experience, which Oxford prides itself on providing for international students. But, with a lack of financial support, the University simultaneously continues to cater this opportunity to a select few. The financial treatment of international students is both exploitative and hypocritical, especially coming from an institution that seems to milk its image as a global community. 

Wild swimming in Oxford: ready to take the plunge?

Hinksey lake looking tranquil and blue with a few swimmers and a jetty in the foreground.
Image credit: Reuben Meadows.

‘Wait, here in the river – the Isis?’ When I tell people I’ve just been out swimming this is usually the first question I hear. Assumptions of a gentle Iffley Sports Centre swim are soon broken and replaced by genuine concern. For most, jumping into the river is confined to a moment of fresher’s week craziness – a punting stroke gone wrong, or a drunken hurrah into the Cherwell. Come Trinity, some may venture into Hinksey’s welcoming waters. But in dreary Hilary? Well, that’s just insane.

But there’s something addictive about doing something crazy.

I’ve swam in lakes and rivers for as long as I can remember but began swimming in Oxford almost a year ago in Hilary. While less than affectionately known as Hellary, a trip to Port Meadow can be a  momentary respite from the library doom and gloom. It breaks up the endless rhythm of essays and tute sheets. You arrive early at Port Meadow. A morning chorus is building. Sunlight filters through the thin mist covering the fields. It feels like a  magical place, and a far cry from the High Street hustle and bustle. An escape. 

On entering the water, you’re shocked awake from the early-morning delirium in which you had convinced yourself this was a good idea. And it is a good idea – but perhaps the romanticised charm of these riverside pastures was a little too powerful. Too late now, you’re standing waist deep and committed to the plunge! Adrenaline is surging. You imagine yourself somewhere tropical (southern Spain perhaps?) until a duck floating past reminds you of the cold-water plunge you’re undertaking. It’s 6 degrees, 8 am and most of a reading list is waiting for you back home. But the shock of the water helps put things in perspective. 

It’s an increasingly popular Oxford pursuit, and I’m glad to see more and more people heading out into the city’s watery back garden. Port Meadow offers the chance to take a break from the internet frenzy – although I wouldn’t blame you for sharing your open-water bravery with all your friends online! It’s too good to keep a secret. And it’s a great chance to make some like-minded friends: whilst sharing a moment of numb glee, I have met some of the most open people along the Isis. 

If you’re not ready to brave the winter swims, you can wait till Trinity to try Hinksey: a not-so-secret paradise. It’s now a well-known summer term destination. Oxford’s Miami Beach draws in crowds of students during some of the year’s hottest days, filling the grassy banks with the sounds of laughter, and the splash of an occasional tumble from the pontoon. Located on Abingdon Road, it might be a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it. Once a former gravel pit for the railway, natural springs have transformed the site into an Oxford oasis. You may see a red-crested pochard, or perhaps a lesser-spotted Engineering student.

If I’ve convinced you to give it a go, but you’re not sure where to start, Oxford University’s very own wild swimming society offers a great outdoor community and a safe way to start out. One of the most popular events is an 11 am swim on Saturday followed by brunch at St. Anne’s College. Truly unmissable – the hash browns (and company) are to die for.

For me, swimming in Oxford offers a chance to leave behind the stress of the Radcam rat race. While it certainly isn’t a cure-all, I have found it helps me balance my student life. Not to mention, it’s a fun way to surprise people. Standing on a silty bank of the river Thames as a cool rain begins to fall, I do sometimes question what I’ve got myself into. But I couldn’t go back. Whether you join us for an early Hilary dip or wait for a sunny afternoon in Trinity, do give it a go while you’re in Oxford – it would be great to see as many people as possible get out and enjoy Oxford’s amazing scenery. 

‘Home is where the heart is.’

Image Credit: Nick Youngson/CC BY-SA 3.0 via Picpedia.org

The Michaelmas vac is a strange part of the Oxford calendar. For freshers, it is the first time they will be making the return home – having to stuff overpacked suitcases and newly purchased stash into their car after just eight weeks here. Some return to tiny villages, others to big cities and others remain in Oxford. Others spend a couple of weeks on the slopes of Val D’Isere. Very few of us, however, are as lucky as I am to be returning to the land of Milton Keynes…

Going back can be a challenge. The student returns to a familiar land, but everything feels different. I just started getting used to being in Oxford again and suddenly it’s time to move back. No longer are my weeks filled with hours at the Rad Cam, spontaneous Swan and Castle trips or Bridge Thursdays. Rather, I return home to find my younger sister has raided my clothes and makeup, and is somehow taller than me (although at 5’ 2, I have no right to act surprised…). While I was busy in the Oxford bubble, the familiar parts of my hometown have also grown in their own ways (like the number of roundabouts for example).

In my opinion, a good vacation should always feature copious amounts of sleep. Even if your tutors may have fed you the age-old line of ‘a vacation is just when you vacate Oxford and continue to work elsewhere’, it is important to take a proper break and to help yourself recover after the trauma of an Oxford term. The lack of impending deadlines is an exhilarating feeling and the threat of collections is not quite enough to destroy that feeling either. I like my recovery days to be punctuated by long naps, mum’s cooking and Netflix’s ‘Are you still watching?’. Although I found this term that Oxford managed to creep its way onto my screen regardless; thank you Saltburn and Wonka. 

At some point, the time for the vacation staple arises – the big termly catch up with home friends. This consists of life updates and embarrassing ‘remember when’s’ and before long all the time apart seems to just melt away. It feels like nothing has changed yet at the same time it feels like everything has. I catch myself accidentally letting words like ‘Michaelmas’, ‘Hilary’, or ‘rustication’ slip and have to make sure not to use the word ‘Oxford’ too much in conversation for fear of sounding absolutely insufferable. One of my friends has developed a Scottish twang in her accent (studying in Edinburgh), another has spent two years in the real world working after deciding not to go to University. There is a bittersweet feeling as I remember how we have all grown as people but also how much our lives have grown apart over the last two years. People are starting to think about jobs and where they might want to settle down in the future. Others are taking the ‘go with the flow approach’. It all feels as though it is moving a bit too fast. 

I often grapple with a persistent feeling of guilt about not staying in touch with home friends in the way I feel I should have. And yet, every year I also feel a sense of guilt for letting those earlier Oxford friendships wane. Throughout my time at Oxford, I have grown so much as a person that coming home almost feels like a bit of a culture shock – even though I live only an hour’s drive away.

It can feel like a bit of a conflict – the home where I grew up now feels like a waiting room before I get back to my ‘real life’ at Oxford. It’s been months, and soon it will be years since I walked down paths I used to take daily. But regardless of where ‘home’ is, or where it becomes throughout my life, there is no feeling quite like returning to the place you were made.

New Year’s Resolutions: Why are we so bad at keeping them?

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New year, new start. It is a terrible cliché. But the fact is, as another year ticks by, it’s a good opportunity to close down the open tabs in our brains and refresh the browser. However, having created some new, unused space, we fall into the trap of filling it with so-called New Year’s resolutions, stacking up new tabs and maxing out. According to a You Gov poll, 29% of 18-24-year-olds intend to start 2024 by making a New Year’s resolution. Yet, how many will actually stick? 

The custom of a New Year’s resolution dates back 4000 years to the Babylonians. They would celebrate the new year by promising the gods to pay their debts and return any borrowed objects. Whilst today we don’t make promises to the Gods, we do make them to ourselves. Has this innovation made it easier to stick to them? Well the same poll reported that only 9% claimed to have stuck to their resolutions throughout the year. Even after 4,000 years of practice, why are we so bad at keeping them?  

New Year’s Resolutions are about getting into the habit of doing new things. Too often, we set such overwhelming ambitions that we’re just lining ourselves up for failure. The first hurdle we trip down on is Mondays. Like the new year, starting something new at the beginning of the week is certainly enticing. The synergy of 2024 starting on a Monday should make committing and sticking to our promises easier. But the problem with Mondays is that there are 53 of them this year. There will always be another Monday to star again but before you know it, it will be 2025. 

In all seriousness, it’s because we’re muddled up between means, and our ends often confuse the difference between aspiration and practice. If the polling data is anything to go by, we make a practice out of setting goals and aspiring to achieve them. This is the wrong way around. If we are to stick to our ‘resolutions’, there has to be a change. The most effective habit to create this change is focus.

What is focus? The idea of focusing is often misleading. It’s not a switch that can be flicked on, where we say, “Right, I’m going to focus today”. Instead, it is a habit that, once formed, must be constantly maintained. That is done by saying no to other stuff. It means sacrifice. It means saying no to things you want to do with every bone in your body. Saying no to things you can’t stop thinking about from waking up until falling asleep again. It takes practice. Research shows it takes 66 consecutive days to form a habit in the brain. That is hard. Start small. Start with one thing to say no to and build it up from there. 

Optimism alone will not create the habit of achieving the goal you’ve set for yourself. This is the reason why so many resolutions fail. Without the ability to focus, it just creates an endless doom loop of failed ambitions. 

Why not form the habit that will allow you to create further habits? Change is big and hard. It’s also lots of baby steps on a bigger journey. Most importantly, refining your ability to focus will give you the confidence to decide what is essential and what isn’t. Therefore it sets the parameters for further change in the future. 

Meaningful and lasting change is a lot of little things done well. It will scare you how many goals can be achieved when you truly learn to focus. Otherwise, every year, we just become a nation of almosts and maybes. 

0th Week: ‘Dough(nut) trust strangers!

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Thursday evening. Eighth week. My head has finally stopped spinning after a tumultuous Park End (I think). A crinkled pastry bag is tucked under my elbow. I elegantly sit down on the landing of my college’s only building which predates the Russian Revolution (yeah Hilda’s!), lovingly refurbished with institutional blue-grey carpet which must be hiding a multitude of bacterial sins.

This landing is currently the locus that’s fuelling my body. With fuel comes growth. Although I’m not sure I’ve grown many inches since October, this landing, coupled with yummy food and great company, has probably been the site of my most productive (emotional) learning this year. So, this column hopes to bring you earnest musings from an (at times) foolish twenty-year-old. And maybe some culinary inspo from my college’s resident ‘Ottolenghi-in-waiting’ (a self-awarded title, sadly). 

Firmly positioned in the corner of the landing, I begin to inhale a creamy and decadent crosstown doughnut (it was the end of term; needs must). I glance up at this evening’s guest. My college daughter. Her azure eyes still twinkling with that fresher glow, she sighs before exclaiming: ‘Never, ever, leave your bike unlocked outside the faculty on the weekend!’

Whilst this doesn’t seem like a particularly revelatory thought – to not leave your belongings unattended – this throwaway comment lingered with me as much as the flavour palette of Crosstown’s Chocolate Truffle Doughnut still dances on my tongue six weeks later. 

The notion of a silly fresher leaving their unlocked bike out in the world, putting all their faith into their newfound city, has a vague naivety to it that intrigues me. The fact I’ve spent less than a year actually in my university city, and yet have amassed friends that I feel I’ve known for years appears both bewildering and paradoxical. 

Existentialism aside, I would have never built these friendships, without putting just a little bit of trust in the hands of complete strangers – leaving my metaphorical bike unlocked as it were. 

With it being the month of new beginnings, maybe those who feel a little too settled in the Oxford ecosystem and those who feel that Oxford still isn’t quite ‘home’, should have a little faith and welcome in some new characters. Leaving your ‘bike’ locked only limits your narrative. It can be all too easy to fall into a comfortable routine of library-lecture-bar-bed. Trust me (a stranger!!) and disrupt your daily ritual. January is too dreary after all. 

The Patience of Ordinary Things

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Pre-university packing is undoubtedly a chore. But it is more than the boredom of the task that makes deviations from it so enjoyable. 

I try to avoid procrastination. I find it is generally an exercise in dread and guilt; more ‘deer caught in the headlights of too many deadlines’, than ‘casual enjoyment of leisure time’. What little self preservation instincts I have in this matter, however, fall completely out of the window when it comes to the distractions I find during packing for my return to Oxford. 

The ease with which I am entirely absorbed by the (re)discovery of my own possessions is an offence with a myriad of causes. Latent hoarder-ish tendencies, the multiple misguided phases of my teenage years, and an embarrassingly eroded attention span all play their part – but the clutter of an old bedroom evokes a tenderness that extends far beyond the mere distractions they provide. 

The detritus of our pasts reflect the hopes, ambitions and disappointments that accompanied them. What may appear to the untrained (or undeluded) eye as a wardrobe full of ugly hats and ill-fitting jumpers, contains the narrative of all the joys and pains and lessons learned of navigating a shifting identity, while also slowly realising that a ‘signature hat’ is a CBBC  costuming prop, not a thing that any actual functional person should aspire to own. The rediscovery of a notebook half-filled with ‘potential future catch phrases’ is not only proof that in 2016 I truly considered saying ‘schwing’ at the end of every joke I made; it is an encounter with yet another discarded attempt at reinvention, a reminder of the old yearning for change. 

How truly can we say that our past selves are gone, when there they are, right now – pressed between the pages of an old diary (in my case, rarely kept), woven into the fabric of a poorly-knitted scarf, wound tight around gifted rosary beads from a long-forgotten Catholic education? How easy is it to put down what you’re doing and hold a fragment of your own history in your hands? What version of you painted these walls and chose these posters and arranged these books? Do you miss them? 

When I finally get around to packing my actual necessities, I will (tragically) have to leave behind my old fidget spinners and top trump cards, so spending so much time rifling through them may seem like a waste – but it provides a valuable space for reflection on the past, as we move into yet another new beginning. It’s almost a story in itself, really; once, a girl lived in this room. She couldn’t leave a beach without taking a pocketful of ‘cool’ rocks, and imagined a whole different life for herself every time she bought a new item of clothing. She isn’t here any more, not really. But her dog-eared books and used-up perfumes and unfinished plans are. And so am I.

South Park to be restored following Bonfire Night damage

Image Credits: Steve Daniels via Wikimedia Commons

The Oxford City Council has pledged to restore the city’s South Park “as soon as the growing season permits.” The beloved park sustained significant damage to its grounds during its Bonfire Night fireworks display on 5 November last year. The Charity Fireworks Display, now in its 55th year, is organised by the Oxford Roundtable, which deemed November’s display a “great success.” In an announcement after the celebration, the Oxford Roundtable said that “more than 20,000 people attended and [they] were hoping to raise £50,000 for local charities.” 

However, due to heavy rainfall in the week leading up to the event, the grounds had become overly saturated and particularly vulnerable to the heavy machinery used for the display. Locals noted that this was a usual occurrence after Bonfire Night and that they “have pleaded repeatedly with organisers” to ensure the ground is protected with sheeting – a policy reportedly rejected by the Oxford Round Table “on the grounds of cost.” One local even noted that the day after the celebration, lorries took surplus pallets to be burned on the remnants of the previous night’s bonfire, creating a “bonfire of the vanities.” 

When approached for comment, Neil Holdstock, chairman of the Oxford Round Table, said he was “absolutely heartbroken” after being “bombarded [by a] small number of residents,” contrasted with mostly positive feedback. He noted that the group, entirely composed of volunteers, did not get paid to organise the event but “are doing everything they can… as they do every year” to repair the park grounds. 

Despite a claim by Oxford Round Table Representative Christian Petersen that the areas affected “could have recovered by Christmas,” the wrecked grounds have continued to affect the park’s walkability throughout the winter period. Signs have been posted near the damaged areas to inform passersby of uneven, muddy ground.

In response to about 40 lodged complaints, the Oxford City Council launched an inspection of the grounds and announced that no long-term damage had been caused. However, it will be necessary to reseed and level areas of the park, which will be possible during the germination season in the spring; local stakeholders such as Friends of South Park and Oxford Preservation Trust will be kept informed of the restorations. The council has also revealed that the Oxford Round Table will fund the repair work, and they are in discussion with the group on how to best protect the park going forward while preserving the iconic Bonfire Night celebrations.

Councillor Susan Brown, Leader of the Oxford City Council, stated: “South Park is one of the jewels in Oxford’s crown… After all the rain we’ve had, the heavy plant used to take stalls and the funfair on and off the site churned up the ground in a way we haven’t experienced before. There are lessons to be learned to prevent this happening in future. We will of course ensure the park is fully restored, as soon as the growing season permits.

“At this stage I don’t want to rule in or out any options. I will also ensure we engage with the wider Oxford community before any final decision is taken.”