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Rags to riches: unravelling the stitched up class divide in fashion

By
Connie Hilton
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Image Credit: Chris McCauley CC BY-SA 2.0 via Geograph.

Fashion trends come and go as quickly as the seasons change, but is the UK class system still entrenched by these shifts in style? New movements in vintage fashion have caused a surge in charity shopping: hand-me-downs are all the range, yet certain ideas about class are handed down with them. Buzzwords are used across social media to describe rising aesthetics, which makes it a more accessible environment to judge these different styles. It seems as though there is still an element of class culture to fashion, despite more fluid styles that don’t necessarily require a designer label. Rising trends cause rising prices. Suddenly, the world of budget shopping has become a cesspool of consumerism. 

It should not come as a surprise to anyone interested in fashion that second-hand clothing has experienced a surge of popularity over the past few years. With the recent acceleration of fashion trend cycles, vintage styles are constantly making their way back into the mainstream. As such, charity shops have gone from being the place to shop for clothing necessities on a budget, to being visited by people from different classes on the hunt for new additions to their wardrobe. However, despite ownership of second-hand goods being less stigmatised, and often celebrated in the modern fashion landscape, there is still a class divide in how people shop for vintage fashion. 

Charity shopping in the UK became widespread during the Second World War. One of the most popular charity shops, Oxfam, opened in 1947 in Oxford. These shops would take in donations and sell goods at heavily discounted rates compared to original retail price. The proceeds would then go to a variety of different charitable causes. Naturally, the low prices attracted people in need of affordable clothing. With the growth of online fashion spaces, charity shopping has become less about budget clothing, and more about finding unique, trendy pieces. Part of the popularity of second-hand shopping can also be attributed to the growing desire to be environmentally conscious and sustainable amongst younger generations. 

Not all second-hand shopping is created equal. With the demand for vintage clothing growing, both dedicated curated vintage stores and online resellers have provided a way for those willing to pay a premium to buy second-hand items through an easier and more tailored shopping experience. In this subtle way, those with more money are able to shop for more desirable clothing pieces and curate their wardrobe to fit an aesthetic more easily. This is one of the ways in which the relationship between class and fashion still persists, although it is not as glaringly obvious as it used to be; previously class was signified by the brand you could afford to wear. Further divides between classes in fashion can also be found in the different online aesthetics.

In particular, the ‘20 year cycle’ conveys the continuous resurgence of trends from past decades. In recent years, fashion has experienced a rise in the ‘Y2K aesthetic’, which has allowed for different social classes to align as young people scoured second hand retailers for low rise jeans, graphic tees and glitter. However, as demand for these items increased, so did the prices. Once again, what was a widespread excitement towards the revival of an aesthetic became a hierarchy that lower classes could not access. The buzzwords used to describe these trends have demonstrated that this divide still persists, even when it is more of a look than a label that is sought after. 

Social media platforms like Instagram and Tiktok have heavily influenced the rapid rise and fall of fashion movements through the use of these buzzwords. It can be argued that while demand for these items has maintained the class divide, society’s own perception of them has upheld ideas about social class that cannot be ignored. Phrases like ‘cigarette mum’, typically referencing working class stereotypes, have been used against the Y2K fashion and beauty trends online. These have perpetuated the class divide as while some people are praised for modelling these aesthetics, others are unable to escape presumptions about their background based on what they wear.

The increased demand for vintage fashion, combined with persisting attitudes towards class culture, have maintained the existence of the class divide within fashion. The reinforcement of stereotypes along with the high prices that follow these trends indicate that while the rapid cycle of fashion perseveres, so does inequality within the fashion sphere.

Tutorials and the art of the blag

By
Alfie Roberts
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Jorge Royan / CC BY-SA 3.0 DEED via Wikimedia Commons

Oxford is a unique place to study at an undergraduate level. Its centuries-long history of elitism, pomposity and academic excellence separate it from the other Russell Group universities. However, as the only member of my ‘home’ friendship group to have gone on to study at Oxford, I find myself trying to convince them that it is not all that different.

When my friends have come to visit, they have enjoyed the novelty of punting and the charm of Turf Tavern. Seemingly, they have always left with a sense that, while Oxford may have its quirks, the place and its people are not fully alien. They’re not completely wrong – as brilliant as it is to go to Oxford, it’s ultimately just another place to get a degree. When it’s all over, we will still struggle to find a job and have heaps of student debt to pay like everyone else.

However, the notion that Oxford is in any sense normal is a brazen parody that can often deceive the visitor. The Oxford that I present to my friends from back home is a much more ordinary version. This is because the people here, myself included, are masters in the art of the blag.

When I, or any of my friends from Oxford, have hosted ‘externally educated’ companions, we will tend to pick a time that contains the least amount of work possible. Oxford won’t allow you to take a friend into any of its grandiose, historic libraries, so the prospect of working with a friend when they come up to visit is a near impossibility. Luckily, this practical issue works in our favour, presenting the illusion that at Oxford we don’t just work. While this may be true – we might, from time to time, have the chance to go to the pub in the evening – this is only at the end of another seemingly endless 9 a.m. shift in the library.

Alongside pretending to do much less work than I truly do, I will also host my friends to a night at ‘The Bullingdon’ with the sweet melodic rhythms of drum and bass ringing, rather than the incessant compilation of ‘Love Story’, ‘Timber’ and ‘Angels’ at the moribund club, Atik. I try to convince them that we don’t do the latter far more often.

Ultimately, I suspect that I am not the only one who commits this act of tampering with Oxford’s coolness scale. I think, like me, some Oxford students are rather successful at this forgery because they have learnt how to be somewhat economical with the truth. The tutorial system is one of the key culprits.

Before my first tutorial at Oxford, I was shouted at for coming in too early, accidentally disturbing the tutorial before mine. This gave me the sense these were incredibly personal, intense, even sacred spaces that must never be interrupted. But, over the last five terms I have spent at Oxford, I have had other tutorials with a much different feel. One of my tutors once popped out at the beginning to buy some Twix and Cherry Bakewells, something that effectively threw away my initial fears as a fresher. Even worse, the last tutor I had would vape as the session took place. Maybe this suggests that our meetings were so intense that he needed a hit to relax, though I lean more on the side that it may have just been a nicotine addiction.

During my time at Oxford, I have had a range of tutorial experiences. But what they all have in common is that they forced me to think on my feet. The system teaches you to try to come up with something profound and interesting on the spot. This means I often find myself arguing a point with the conviction that suggests I have been reading on the topic for at least several weeks when, in reality, I came up with it five seconds prior. Tutorials teach you to give the impression that you know more than you actually do.

Tutorials do have other merits of course. You are taught not to consult your notebook of information and produce a heavily evidenced opinion with several points to prove your argument. Yet that’s not the point. It’s to be able to cope with the scrutiny of a world-leading expert, on a topic they have studied for many decades, and come up with something interesting. Through this process, you are taught to make connections you have never made before. The tutor will sneakily puppeteer you to an answer, making you join the dots. I have found through this process that these freestyled ideas are my best ones, which stick in my head when it comes to an exam.

By this point, you may suspect I’m a paid employee of the Oxford tutorial system. Perhaps I can reassure you by arguing that fashioning new ideas for a future exam is not the most useful element of the tutorial system. The most extraordinary, and potentially most surprising, consequence of the unique pressure of tutorials is that it teaches you to become a masterful ‘blagger’. To be able to deceive the tutor into thinking you’re much better read than you truly are, which is a necessary skill in such an environment. Tutorials have taught me the art of false impressions. This has allowed me to convince my friends at other universities, where they may have spent half of their first year hungover, that Oxford is a much more normal university than they might think. I have been able to assure them that we shop at Tesco, not Waitrose (this is actually true); we hardly ever go to formal dinners (less true); and that we always go to ‘The Bullingdon’ to enjoy our weekly dosage of EDM (completely false).

Oxford presents many opportunities, including teaching us how to create an illusion of knowledge. By extension, this offers us the ability to create an illusion of ‘coolness’, an underrated skill. We have the tutorial system to thank for this.

Review: ‘The Achilles Trap: Saddam Hussein, the United States, and the Middle East 1979-2003’ by Steve Coll

By
Hassan Akram
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Image credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

Tyrants should only be brought down by their own people; they become martyrs when brought down by foreigners. This axiom used to be applied to Napoleon, and there is no better example of it in our own century than the case of Saddam Hussein. Saddam was a maniac and a tyrant, but tyranny is always preferable to anarchy, and anarchy was what followed his deposition by the US-led invasion in 2003. The death of hundreds of thousands and decades of political chaos were the only products of the Iraq War.

Steve Coll’s new book is the best which has been written so far on the decades of leadership, geopolitics, strategy, and espionage which led to the invasion. Significantly, it draws on newly declassified resources, including almost 1,000 hours of tape recordings of Saddam’s conversations with comrades and generals. The result is a detailed, at times uncomfortably intimate, portrait of him. He was a murderous dictator, a military aggressor obsessed with conspiracies and paranoid for decades about American intentions. He also enjoyed the novels of Hemingway and Naguib Mahfouz, and at the time of the US invasion was applying himself to the study of Arabic grammar. Coll’s uniquely multifaceted picture of him will go down in history as the most memorable one. For that portrait alone, this book would be well worth reading.

While of course Saddam is the “main character”, Coll has an equally cool and sharp eye for other world leaders –particularly US presidents. Bill Clinton is found complaining that he has no telephone access to that “sonofabitch” Saddam; George W. Bush “might just have been bored” when he rolled his eyes upon learning that some Iraqi weapons had been destroyed.

Saddam’s career-long paranoia about American intentions was probably justified – not only by our retrospective knowledge twenty years later, but by the skulduggery that was underway well before 2003. During the Iran-Iraq War, for instance, the Reagan Administration gave Saddam detailed maps to help him fend off the Iranians while simultaneously approving arms sales to Tehran. 

A far greater historical irony is that, when Britain and the US removed Saddam, they were removing a regime for which they themselves had created the conditions: Britain seventy years earlier by occupying and then withdrawing from an unstable Mandatory Iraq, and the Americans in 1963 by sponsoring the coup which first brought Saddam’s Ba’athist party to power.

The central misunderstanding which Coll recounts – the one which, finally, ensured the 2003 invasion and the resultantbutchering of hundreds of thousands of Iraqis – regardsweapons of mass destruction (WMD). Iraq had no active weapons, but “after 1991, Saddam assumed that the C.I.A. knew that he had no WMD, and so he interpreted American and British accusations about his supposed nukes and germ bombs as merely propaganda lines”. By the time each side realised its miscalculation, it was too late.

Much of the overall scope and detail of this book defy summary, and to understand every facet of US-Iraqi relations, it must be read in full. Every chapter, with thriller-like headings such as “Project 17” or “The Edge of the Abyss”, makes for gripping reading. By means of its cold, crisp prose and its grasp of high-level espionage, The Achilles Trap is as readable and complex as a John le Carré novel while managing at the same time to be a serious piece of historical research.

Oriel College removes 18th century painting ‘over fears it would offend students’

By
Tom Gardner
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Image Credit: Steve Daniels / CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

In March, Oriel College removed an 18th century painting featuring a Duke with a black servant in the background. Critics have said that the painting was removed over fears that it would offend students, while Oriel has maintained that the move was due to the college’s ongoing renovations. 

The Duke, Henry Somerset, graduated from Oriel college in 1763 and was a benefactor to the college. The painting features him and a black servant boy positioned behind him and holding the Duke’s crown. 

A spokesperson from Oriel college told Cherwell: “Due to extensive renovation of our senior library where the Duke of Beaufort’s painting is normally hung, we have loaned the painting to Badminton House for safekeeping.” The college is currently undergoing extensive renovation to the bar, dining hall, and kitchen. The Senior Library, where the painting had been housed, was converted to a temporary servery and dining hall prior to the painting’s removal. 

Badminton House, the ancestral home of the Duke’s family since the 17th century, has no modern connection to Oriel. It is unclear why the painting was not rehoused in college during the renovation period. The college did not reply to questions of whether other paintings were removed during renovations or whether the artwork would be returned in the future.

Alexander von Klemperer, a former PhD student at Oriel college, had called for the removal of the painting and one other, also featuring a black boy in the background, prior to its removal. He said: “While both images are products of their time, they are also racist depictions of people of colour as subservient and to some extent dehumanised. The way in which portraits and people are represented in a space can deeply alter how comfortable or welcoming that space is to people.” 

Oriel college has previously been criticised over its handling of past benefactors, most notably in the case of alumnus Cecil Rhodes. After calls to remove its long-standing statue of Rhodes, Oriel college opted to keep the statue and to erect a plaque contextualising Rhodes’ legacy.

Other Oxford colleges have also taken steps to remove contentious artwork. In 2017, Balliol college removed a portrait of ‘colonialist’ statesman George Cursor from its dining hall. And in 2021, members of Magdalen college MCR voted to remove a portrait of the Queen from their common room after it was deemed a symbol of “recent colonial history.” 

Why you should be political

By
Roy Shinar Cohen
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Manfred Werner (Tsui) / CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Many of us have been told that the only political thing we must always do, and the most important thing we can do, is to vote. Whenever we are called to duty by the ballot box, we must read about the candidates, decide, and mark a little piece of paper. I won’t claim you should not vote. However, I believe just voting is far from fulfilling one’s political duty. While change sometimes comes from the ballot box, more often it comes from direct action. If you want to cause change, you must do more than vote – you must act.

Whether you care about healthcare, climate change, ongoing wars, or an annoying traffic light, political questions are all around you. Theoretically, or rather, hopefully, there is a politician or bureaucrat tasked with fixing the specific problem you care about. But that is far from certain. In many cases, when it comes to changing the status quo, these officials need to be constantly (and loudly) reminded that you need their help. In fact, they often need to be reminded that, essentially, they work for us. The way to do that is with civic engagement.

Civic engagement includes many things, anything between community group chats and protests outside politicians’ homes. People across society are likely to find different issues they care about and diverse avenues to express their opinions – and that is the point! If every single person who cared about a problem actively sought a solution, our streets would be cleaner, our schools better, and our water fresher. To twist Kennedy’s famous words, if we stopped asking what society could do for us, and started asking what we could do for society, I think we would all be happier.

This issue has been around for a long time, at least since the early nineteenth century, but I think it is uniquely important today. Although 2024 is the biggest election year in history, with billions of people around the world set to cast votes for all levels of government, democracies around the world are backsliding into crisis. Multiple regions are utterly devastated by wars, famine threatens the lives of millions, and unforeseeable extreme weather events are ever stronger. So many things seem to go wrong, and change seems almost impossible. But it is.

Changes, for better or worse, are brought about by people. Some people start atrocious wars, others secure long-awaited peace. It is usually individuals who fight against all odds that create change, and it is often only in retrospect that we hail these changes as great progress. As Martin Luther King said: “The arc of history bends towards justice”. Activists help ensure the arc of history bends in the right direction and reaches its destination as soon as possible. There are few individuals like King who led fights for liberation and independence, and we rightfully commemorate them. But, without many ‘regular’ people who followed them, they would not have made a difference. Only with the help of people who joined their struggle did the leaders and causes gradually become stronger.

As Oxford students, we have endless opportunities to join groups in their ongoing struggles during our daily lives. Whether you are interested in national politics, human rights, climate change, or helping refugees, there are students already hard at work. A simple search on the Internet or social media can introduce you to the relevant society. These societies often organise discussions, lectures, protests, and campaigns. The beauty of it is that they always need more people, and new students are very welcome.

I suspect readers will already be busy enough, and that you won’t entertain my argument much longer. So I will be very clear about what you will gain by joining such groups. By finding people who share a similar passion, you will find a community. By working on solving a problem you are passionate about, you will gain a sense of fulfilment. And, with a good community and that sense of fulfilment, you will have the courage to keep fighting for the things you love even when times are hard. At that point, you will also be reminded where your priorities lie, which will help you get a better work-life balance.

Anyone who wants to see change in the world should want to support such groups, organisations, and societies. There is no single cause or way to act that is right. You could join a reading group, attend demonstrations, sing in a choir – even share your unsolicited views, like I’m doing right now. What is important is that you try to make a difference based on what you think is right, and look for people who want to do it with you.

Far-right populism spreads to Portugal

By
Morien Robertson
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André Ventura, leader of the Chega Party. Image credit: Agência Lusa / CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The Portuguese elections in March delivered not only a resounding rejection of the corruption-riddled centre-left government, which a few years ago was viewed as an inspiration for progressive parties everywhere, but it also saw a huge surge for the populist far-right. This result means Portugal follows the trend of the rest of Europe, which it had previously bucked, with stark implications for both the future of the left and the liberal system of rights.

The centre-right Democratic Alliance (AD), a coalition of parties led by Luís Montenegro, leader of the Social Democratic Party (PSD), received 29.5% of the vote, whilst the incumbent centre-left Socialist party (PS) was close behind with 28.6%. The major shock, however, was that of Chega, the far-right populist party which got 18%, more than doubling its 7% showing in 2022: an unprecedented result for a party which was only founded in 2019 and operates in a country long regarded as the exception in Europe due the lack of any far-right parties in Parliament.

For most of this century, Portugal has suffered from economic crises, governmental mismanagement, and related austerity measures intended to ensure fiscal credibility. The problems became especially severe after the 2008 financial crisis and the Eurozone debt crisis which started in 2009. Along with Spain, Italy, Greece, and Ireland, Portugal faced problems with repaying its public sector debts and in 2011 agreed a €78 billion bail-out package with the EU, ECB, and IMF. The money came attached with ‘fiscal consolidation policies’ – strict austerity measures aimed at reducing governmental deficits which led to soaring unemployment, reduced public services, and public discontent with democracy.

Unlike in much of Europe, however, these socio-economic conditions didn’t precipitate a rise in support for the far-right: the most prominent far-right party at the time, Partido Nacional Renovador (PNR), got only 0.5% in the 2015 elections. This is possibly due in part to their association in the minds of many older voters with the dictatorial Salazar regime, which only fell in the 70s and has left many Portuguese with a deep fear of a return to authoritarianism. Instead, the results were quite evenly split between left and right, and PS formed a minority government, supported by two far-left parties. Despite worries that this government would collapse instantly, it was very successful, profiting from favourable economic conditions which saw the reversal of many austerity-era policies, whilst sticking to the EU’s tight budgetary constraints.PS and its then leader António Costa were seen as a model for left-wing governments – the New Statesman 2018 described Costa as: “popular, in power and pursuing a successful alternative to austerity.”

However, in November last year a slate of corruption scandals forced Costa to resign and brought about early elections. The victory of AD reflects widespread discontent with the corruption of PS, which follows a long line of kleptocratic incidents from both left and right. Yet reasons for the breakthrough of Chega now rather than in the previous decade, as with the rest of Europe, are less obvious. One explanation is the convergence of the mainstream parties, something best encapsulated by the former PSD leader Rui Rio saying in 2019 that his party was “not a genuine right-wing party.” Whilst Montenegro has since distanced PSD from PS, there is still a broad economic consensus between the two major parties, with PSD considered much more moderate than other centre-right parties in Europe. Other reasons include the leadership of Chega’s telegenic leader, André Ventura, who has had extensive media coverage, as well as the opposition directed against Portugal’s liberal social policies, such as on LGBTQ+ rights, euthanasia, and drugs. 

More broadly, there is a growing sense that the country is at breaking point, and positive recent economic data has done little to attenuate widespread anger with current economic conditions. Most of Chega’s support is concentrated in rural regions and smaller cities, and areas such as the Algarve which feel left behind and neglected, emblematic of the long-term effects of deindustrialisation. 

Yet the party is still politically isolated: Montenegro seems to have stuck to his pre-election promise of not going into coalition with them, and instead AD will form a minority government, with Chega and PS choosing not to oppose Montenegro taking power. However, difficulties are already arising, with a dispute over the election of a parliamentary speaker, which saw AD fail to get their chosen candidate elected for the full term, illustrating the fragility of Montenegro’s position. The passing of the 2025 budget also looms as a major challenge which will force compromise and negotiation on all sides. If PS and AD are unwilling to reach an agreement, Chega may become decisive in passing legislation, a monumental change for a country once considered free from far-right politics. Even if Chega remain excluded for now, the fall of PS is a sad tale of corruption and profiteering, something which only adds ammunition to anti-establishment populist rhetoric. 

Self-Portrait of a Stranger: A Review of Frank Auerbach’s Charcoal Portraits

By
Taya Neilson
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Image Credit: Taya Neilson

The Griffin Catalyst Exhibition, The Charcoal Heads, shows the early career of Frank Auerbach and the creation of his portraits in the 1950s and 1960s. As a young Jewish artist alone in post-war London, the charcoal portraits reveal a lot about the artist’s own personal experiences and the valuable relationships he established with the sitters of his portraits. As such, when observing the visitors of the exhibition at the Courtauld Gallery, it became clear that they, too, were attempting to uncover the metaphorical layers of discovery and experience present in his portraits.  

It was almost as if a conveyor belt had been installed within the gallery as each drawing was observed by a different visitor one after the other. The visitors matched the pace of their neighbours, taking their time to examine the charcoal heads on display. Whether meeting the sitter of the drawing at eye level or bending forward to see the portraits in more detail, visitors were face to face with the solemn individuals drawn by Auerbach. As such, whilst the sitters of the portraits appeared close to death in their sunken cheeks and solemn eyes, they remained omnipresent within the art gallery, holding their presence as visitors circled the room.

Image Credit: Taya Neilson

However, one drawing, in particular, broke this cycle as a crowd of visitors surrounded Auerbach’s 1958 self-portrait at the age of 27. It was common for Auerbach to rework his drawings, yet the self-portrait on display appeared to have undergone excessive alterations. Its textured and layered appearance resulted from it being patched up three times, which led to the image of the young man becoming warped and disfigured. The scars created from his own human experiences were translated through the white folds which radiated in contrast with the dark charcoal shadows of the piece. It was in this moment that I understood Robert Hughes’ statement in the 1990s that “an overriding sense of being alone in the world” was at the centre of Auerbach’s work.[1] The artist was just as much a stranger to himself than his sitters and it was only through numerous sessions and changes that he could come to terms with his own experiences through the artwork he created.

Auerbach’s self-portrait of a stranger reveals that, rather than Auerbach imposing order through his artistic processes, the creation of his portraits was an attempt to make sense of his own position during a period of chaos and displacement. Auerbach continually revisited his artwork, where his finished portraits are highly textured and reflect on the deepest experiences he faced. Therefore, whilst his work was highly considered, Auerbach continually reviewed his work as part of a process of self-discovery. This is illustrated by the unexpected strikes of pink and blue that appear throughout his portraits, suggesting a sense of emotional and artistic spontaneity.

The power of Auerbach’s artistic process is further evident in three drawings of Gerda Boehm. Gerda and her husband had fled Nazi Germany in 1939 and settled in London. Earlier that year, Auerbach was also sent to England under the Kindertransport scheme whilst his parents died in the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1942. Hence, initially, the Boehm family were the only relatives that Auerbach had in England. Gerda, now a widow, first sat for Auerbach in 1961 and would attend sessions weekly until the 1980s.[2] Auerbach’s initial drawing of Gerda is displayed at the Courtauld. Despite the numerous sessions Gerda had with Auerbach, there are no signs of rips or tears as seen in his self-portrait. The portrait embodies a sense of familiarity and maternity that the artist likely felt towards his sitter. The drawing, therefore, reveals a sense of harmony between them, which was a consequence of their shared experiences of hardship.

Image Credit: Taya Neilson

Whilst there is an overwhelming sense of darkness to Auerbach’s portraits, the artistic and real-life challenges faced by the artist are symbolically overcome by the final creation of his drawings. At a time of post-war reconstruction and reflection, Auerbach appears to reimagine the identity of his sitters, providing them, and himself, with a new and vital presence. Just like the streaks of blue and pink that remain vivid against the dark smudges of charcoal in his drawings, the individual figures emerge as alive, despite the struggles they faced.

[1] Dale Berning Sawa, “’I’m doing what may be my last paintings’: Frank Auerbach on his new self-portraits and turning 92″, The Guardian. April 2023. https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2023/apr/25/frank-auerbach-artist-self-portraits-last-paintings.

[2] Tessa Lord, “Reclining Head of Gerda Boehm”, Christie’s. 2021. https://www.christies.com/en/lot/lot-6309474.

Oxford University releases new mental health toolkit for students

By
Éilis Mathur
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Image Credit: James Morrel/

During Hilary vacation on University Mental Health Day, the University of Oxford released a new mental health toolkit for students as part of a research trial led by the Department of Psychiatry. 

The digital toolkit, named Nurture-U, is a national project that has already been made available to students at several universities across the UK, including Exeter University and King’s College London. Around 200 students have already taken part in the project, which aims to “find better ways to support university students’ mental health and wellbeing.” 

Nurture-U creates “customisable plans and assessments” based on student feedback. It also directs students to university-specific and community resources. As a result, according to the Project Manager for Oxford, Dr Kevin Matlock, the toolkit can function “as a stand-alone, self-directed mental health aid or a supplement to ongoing counselling or pastoral care.” 

The toolkit is a collaborative project from six universities across the country, including Oxford. It is also funded by several Oxford University Research Councils, including the Medical Research Council and the Arts and Humanities Research Council. 

Dr Matlock noted that in spite of a growing need for mental health support among university students, “many apps only provide general information.” Nurture-U fills that gap by providing personalised wellbeing advice on areas related to sleep, stress levels and exercise. It also tracks progress over time. 

The toolkit’s release to Oxford students comes as mental health issues rise among the student population. A survey conducted by Nurture-U found that 34% of Oxford students experience “high levels of anxiety and depression.” Additionally, the 2022-2023 report from the Student Welfare and Support Service showed that it took up to 15 days for eight out of ten students to meet with a professional through the Service. Accordingly, part of Nurture-U’s mission is to “identify barriers students encounter when accessing mental health and welfare services at Oxford.” 

Oxford University Press’ American workers prepare to strike

By
Selina Chen
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M stone/CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The US National Labor Relations Board, an American government agency, has filed a complaint against Oxford University Press (OUP) on charges that OUP has refused to bargain and moved work overseas. News Media Guild, the union that represents the OUP USA, said that workers may organise a strike. 

OUP, the largest university press in the world, employs over 6,000 people with offices in multiple countries. OUP USA, based in New York City, employs around 150 of them.

An OUP USA Guild spokesperson told Cherwell that the last starting salary counter-offer from OUP was $46,826 in November of last year, an amount “far below” the New York City living wage estimated at roughly $70,000. The current starting salary is $40,000. Since OUP’s proposed salary was “overwhelmingly rejected,” the Guild has responded with three counter-offers, the latest of which was $50,000.

The spokesperson told Cherwell: “We are willing to work with the Employer to attain a contract that is fair for both sides, but the Employer has been unwilling to be reasonable in the last several months by refusing to budge.”

OUP USA workers belong to a bargaining unit which is acting to bar OUP USA from relocating these workers’ roles to outside of the United States without first negotiating with the union. Despite this, in 2023 the Guild learnt that OUP was hiring roles in the UK and India to perform OUP USA’s work. OUP stated that “they were a ‘global company’ that would move work around in whatever manner they deemed necessary.” 

The Guild then filed an Unfair Labor Practice Charge with the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), which investigated and found merit in six of the seven charges.

The spokesperson said: “The case will now move forward as the NLRB will now charge OUP with violating the law. The OUP USA Guild remains resolute in maintaining the sovereignty of our unit: Bargaining unit work must stay within the bargaining unit, lest our unit get slowly eroded until we have few members and little power.”

Cherwell has contacted the OUP for a reply.

“Everywhere we go, we ask: ‘What are the dominant narratives about the city? And what are they hiding?”

By
Amelia Dovell
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Founders Olivia Durand and Paula Larsson. Image credit: Uncomfortable Oxford

I’ve walked past the Clarendon Building on Broad Street many times – but I’d never thought to ask what it had been used for in the past. While today it innocuously houses the Bodleian Library admissions department, in the 19th century, its basement was used as holding cells for the university’s ‘Nightwatch’ police unit.

“It was separate from the city police, operating from sundown to sunrise. Its specific role was to apprehend suspect women who were walking on the streets of the city… This marked women, meaning it was hard for them to go into other types of employment.” Olivia Durand, one of the founders of Uncomfortable Oxford, explains to me. 

“Even for several decades after female students were admitted –  they couldn’t go out without a chaperone. They always needed to walk in pairs, otherwise they risked being apprehended by the ‘Nightwatch’.”

Untangling Oxford from its complicated, imperial past is a process which is certainly still in progress. One voice in the conversation is Uncomfortable Oxford: a social enterprise which seeks to uncover and tell forgotten stories of inequality within Oxford – as a city, and University. Founded in 2018 by two doctoral students, Olivia Durand and Paula Larsson, the walking tours cover a broad range of ‘uncomfortable’ topics and power dynamics: the legacy of the British Empire, the ethics of donation, the exclusion of women in academic spaces. I spoke to Olivia and Paula to hear how their doctoral research led them across academic thresholds, to public outreach.

The pair’s research seems strikingly relevant to contemporary politics. Olivia studies settler colonialism, comparing the USA and Russian Empires in the 19th century. “I started in 2014, looking at narratives of colonising coming to the fore in public discourse. Since 2022, this has emerged more prominently as the invasion of Ukraine has received more attention than the 2014 annexation of Crimea at the time.”

Paula studies the history of medicine, specifically the history of vaccination and medical power. “In earlier research I looked at how [vaccination] was forced upon indigenous communities within the colonial Canadian past”, a history which she herself was personally connected to. “When I learned about that, in my undergrad years, that raised a lot of questions about policy, of how it’s applied to communities as a whole… who gets to say yes or no to a vaccine, and why?”

“For me, history was really about justice in lots of ways, and understanding better approaches to modern approaches to policy.”

Both were drawn to Oxford for its specialised research centres – but also the name and the prestige which comes with it. “It’s a big name – it’s where people tell you that you have to go if you’re gonna study history successfully. It has an allure, largely because of its history in association with British colonisation, that has perpetuated the glory of ‘Oxford’ as a title.” Paula says. 

“Oxford serves as this competitive branding in some way for you as a historian, to get a position or even to succeed in academia. That’s what we both wanted to do originally, as every youngster is told to do: go and do a PhD, become a postdoc, and then go into an academic setting. And our views have changed since then.”

She sounded rueful. I asked her to elaborate on her view of academic careers. 

“I think our view on it has changed largely from just the possibility of having one, which in the past I think would have been a lot easier to do. In the modern sense, especially humanities and social science programmes are being underfunded, undervalued, and are incredibly, incredibly insecure. Once you’ve finished your postdoc, you’re in an endless cycle… chasing a long term full time contract. All of this, and also trying to have fulfillment and meaning in the work that you’re doing. I want my research to have an immediate real world impact in some way.”

Both of them were doctoral students at Oxford at the same time. “A lot of the conversations we were having in the seminar rooms remained theoretical, abstract. Everything took so long to happen. There was a bit of frustration with what we were interested in, and how applicable it was.” Olivia says. “We knew there was a lot of interest in trying to reassess history to engage critically with the past and the way that they shaped inequalities and injustices in the present” – and so, Uncomfortable Oxford began. 

“I was already a tour guide in the city I did as a part time job just to support myself as an international student.” Paula says. “My gosh, was I tired of talking about David Cameron! This image that people hear when they visit Oxford is one of the old white boys clubs… it’s the draw of a lot of tourism, which is really uncomfortable to think about.”

“I think there’s still a lot of idolisation of that lifestyle, that historic view of what an ‘Oxford University student’ used to be… maybe ‘Saltburn’ hasn’t really helped that image. But that is still the image people get.”

“It’s just so divorced from actual reality – the University is incredibly diverse. It definitely still has problems. But I don’t want every single one of those 9 million visitors to come into the city and get told it’s Boris Johnson’s university. That doesn’t need to be the narrative.”

Public outreach and sparking conversations across different communities is at the heart of the Uncomfortable Oxford ethos. “In my mind it’s like, what’s the point of doing history if no one knows what you’re doing?” Paula says. “This is, in lots of ways, the answer to that – Uncomfortable tours. You can have a researcher who is doing really important work and research, and is able to communicate that everyday to new people constantly. It’s allowed for a lot more moments of cross pollination between academics who are doing a lot of really interesting research, and people who are living those legacies in the present.”

Following the surge of public attention of imperial pasts in 2020 – the toppling of statues and renaming of buildings which followed – in Oxford, it reignited the ‘Rhodes Must Fall Movement’. Over a thousand people gathered, demanding the removal of Cecil Rhodes’ statue. Though the attention it drew to the cause did not bring about its removal, work has been done on contextualisation and matching the Rhodes fund on BME initiatives.

“With activist movements, burnout is a huge problem. Growth, enthusiasm, comes in waves – it’s usually volunteer-led, based on the passion and drive and capacity of individuals.” Paula says.

“Funding is a huge part of that. This is free work, demanding work, and emotionally tolling work for a lot of people. And so what we kind of tried to be is a sustainable intervention. We really believe that the only way to defy systems at all is to value labour, to pay for it and to avoid exploitation of people’s energy, time and research and work that they do. 

Uncomfortable Oxford has gone from a one-off summer project to a model which runs in Oxford, Cambridge and York. Each city is different, and holds a complicated legacy to uncover. “Everywhere we go, we ask: ‘What are the dominant narratives about the city? And what are they hiding?’” says Olivia.

The pair look forward to expanding their model of discussion based talks across the UK and even internationally, as well as developing more educational resources on histories of colonialism and power. “We’re really interested in access to education, access to narratives, and collaborating as much as we can with other organisations doing similar work. So that’s where we’re going.”
At Oxford, sometimes learning can feel confined to a book, a library, or a tutorial. Uncomfortable Oxford’s mission served as a reminder that there is much to be learned everywhere – you just have to look around.

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