Thursday 24th July 2025
Blog Page 792

Dining al Desko review – ‘gently depressing but hilarious’

0

Dining al Desko consists of two back-to-back monologues delivered, rather un-dramatically, by a pair of workers in an open-plan office. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the second monologue as it was still in production so my judgment is only based on the first.

The first half of Dining al Desko is a narrative of decline and fall centred on Julie, a receptionist played by Julia Pilkington. She is a vivid character – paranoid, ambitious and totally at sea in the cut-throat world of office politics. Echoing Gordon Gekko, she boasts of the fact that she works through the lunch hour and is never seen away from her desk.

But her workaholic tendencies aren’t enough to prevent her from being displaced by Trish, her younger and savvier rival. First, Trish usurps Julie’s place at the annual audit. Then Julie finds herself saddled with dull proof-reading tasks and the daily coffee round. Finally, her desk is commandeered by Trish. Julie is confined to an increasingly marginal role as it seems clear to everybody except her that she is on the way out.

Julie’s awkward mannerisms and self-deceiving stoicism are well-portrayed by Julia Pilkington. At various points, we find her clambering under her desk, munching on a croissant, brushing off small snubs, pretending that she is in line for promotion and persuading herself of the merits of a desk-less existence.

She is a pathetic character but also a likeable one – a woman who hopes for more but doesn’t expect it. Alastair Curtis perfectly captures the humour and the pathos of her situation – his writing is wry, sharp and gently depressing. In fact, the writing carries the performance, sweeping forgotten lines and occasional missteps under the carpet.

I am told that the second half of the play is centered on Tom, the office’s finance manager, who is played by Christopher Page. He is briefly mentioned in the first half in connection with the annual audit and the action in the second half apparently concerns a financial scandal at the firm where he and Julie both work. The scandal turns the office upside down, and events take an increasingly absurdist turn. Given the quality of the writing in the first half, I am sure that the second half will be just as well-observed and wryly amusing as the first.

Dining al Desko has the seeds of a fascinating play. It’s amusing but not unserious; it is well-written and, from what I saw, well-acted. The play is only being performed once so it is perhaps understandable that the version I saw was incomplete – if you want to see the finished product then go along to the Old Fire Station on Gloucester Green at 7:30 next Thursday.

‘Citizen scientists’ discover rare star system

0

At the most recent meeting of the American Astronomical Society in January, researchers from Caltech announced the discovery of a fifth planet in the K2-138 star system. What could have been a fairly ordinary astronomical find, however, was made unique by the fact that it was discovered entirely by members of the public, looking at telescope data online.

The system’s five planets were discovered on Zooniverse, which is a website that allows researchers to crowdsource parts of their work which require very large amounts of data to be looked over. The researcher – in this case Jessie Christiansen and Ian Crossfield from Caltech and UC Santa Cruz – uploads a huge number of images to the site, and then the site’s visitors look at individual ones and try to determine simple facts about them, such as whether a star has a planet orbiting. Each picture is looked at by a large number of people, and the researcher who receives the results can see a score of how many viewers agreed on them, which gives a good idea as to exactly how reliable they are.

Using this site, Christiansen and Crossfield set the world’s ‘citizen scientists’ to the task of determining which of the thousands of stars viewed by the Kepler telescope had planets orbiting around them, and K2-138 scored very highly. The researchers have now verified that the system has five very likely planets and a possible sixth, making it the first multi-planet system ever to be discovered in such a way.

As well as this, the K2-138 system is interesting because it exhibits a fairly rare property called orbital resonance, which means that each planet’s orbit time is an exact multiple of the others’. This is due to the planets exerting a slight gravitational pull on the others as they go by, which brings them all into sync with each other. There are very few known star systems in which this occurs, and it is believed that in K2-138, the orbital chain formed very early – shortly after the planets took form.

Obviously, the discovery is a big win for citizen-driven science, which is becoming increasingly popular as researchers realise that they can use the enthusiastic non-specialist community to help out on really big projects. The technique is most commonly heard of when applied to telescope images, which record a massive number of stars that all require a human eye to analyse, but it’s also being put to use quantifying the variety of bird plumage, transcribing old handwritten texts and more.

In fact, you’ve probably done something similar yourself, as Google’s reCAPTCHA system, used widely to filter out computer programs that try to access websites, often shows street signs or words from books that they want a human to transcribe.

The success of projects like Christansen and Crossfield’s shows that the general public is very engaged by the world of science and eager to become a part of it – meaning that hopefully we can expect many more exciting discoveries like K2-138 in the future.

The Renaissance

0

Upon every era, we can look back to find inspiration, and the age of humanism provides more than any other. The glittering, bloody glory of the Renaissance provides a backdrop to scenes of love, lust and poetry.

What we are imagining is not a time period, but a specific cultural context that we identify with courts, artistic splendour and dramatic power dynamics. For Viveka Herzum, the inspiration for her shoot came from how the Renaissance produced many of her favourite heroes. She argues that ‘when it comes to fashion, the artistry and excess we associate with the period has left a powerful legacy that continues to influence our aesthetic and feed our collective creativity.’

This medieval genesis can be seen within High Fashion to this day; for example, the Milanese couture hegemony currently draws upon this cultural debt. Dolce & Gabbana have repeatedly drawn on an evocative, regal colour palette of red and gold, not dissimilar to the shadings of stained glass windows.

But on a more grounded note, in this photoshoot Viveka explores how ‘strength isn’t always physical; there are many more nuanced ways to show courage, to rebel and demonstrate merit. I found female protagonists who were clever, or brave, or kind, but none of them who were all of these and wore armor. I wanted quests and dragons.’

With this, Viveka conflates the notions of masculine and feminine. The clothes are symbolic of the values, and embody the multifaceted potential of the Renaissance for expression. She explains; ‘it is true that they are still held to the feminine ideals of physical beauty, chastity and loyalty to their lovers and husbands, but they also display the masculine in their agency over their own lives, their continual defence of honour, and their reflection of stationary traditionally feminine pursuits.’

Viveka examines history itself; contextually speaking, she notes that ‘the Order of the Glorious Saint Mary, founded in Italy in 1233 and disbanded in 1558, was the first Italian Knighthood granted to women. We already know of Joan of Arc. In England, the Order of the Garter was appointed to 68 ladies between 1358 and 1488.’ However, the storybooks didn’t talk about any of them, or their fictional incarnations, rather about Robin Hood and merry men, Richard the Lionheart, and about Arthur and his knights.

The constraints repeatedly encountered by female knights are explored through the modest stylings of Viveka’s shoot. The striking use of corsetry in these photographs notably reflects this; we are shown that while one approach to knighthood celebrates this uniquely powerful moments, it is not synonymous with liberation.

This is a trend which has continued in fashion, both low and high today, regardless of the presence of corsets. Where Viveka concerns herself with the ways in which clothing can be both in equal parts empowering and restricting, within fashion there exists major debate on the topic of female underwear, or indeed, the wearing of masculine or feminine clothing. With this shoot, Viveka encapsulates this dichotomy.

The Scythians British Museum review – ‘a vivid and intriguing exhibition’

0

In the English language, the word Siberia denotes a vast and bleak emptiness. That land’s ancient population are rarely thought about, and usually fall neatly into a caricature of the primitive, marauding barbarian. Yet as the British Museum’s recent exhibition demonstrates, Scythian culture was anything but primitive. The exhibition’s evocative imagery, of winged rams clutching broadswords, for example, or of gold- cast dragons and tigers engaged in battle, makes the culture of these ancient tattooed horsemen the focus of a vivid and intriguing exhibition.

The Scythians were the first great nomadic culture to emerge from the Steppe, and were forerunners to the Huns, Turks and Mongols. Across almost the entirety of the first millennium BCE they conquered everywhere from the Black Sea to Mongolia, and they were some of the first people to develop mounted warfare. However, unlike their successors, we know virtually nothing about the way in which their society functioned. Although they pop up periodically in Greek and Persian sources as traders and plunderers, historians have been forced to mostly rely on findings from a few isolated burial mounds literally frozen in time beneath the Siberian permafrost.

Like the tombs of the pharaohs, these vaults of treasure are fascinating windows into a way of life that – for the most part –no longer exists. One of the most interesting pieces on display in the exhibition is a felt and leather horse mask. A ram’s head erupts from the forehead like an alien symbiote, atop which a bird is nestled. This could have had various possible uses; we can’t be sure if it was a form of armour meant to intimidate enemies, or a part of a religious rite of protection in the afterlife.

Due to the cold frost from which the items were dug up, every one, without exception, is stunningly preserved. In the second room the viewer comes face to face with the shrivelled lips and tattooed face of a Pazyryk chieftan. Teeth and rotting gums still visible, he stares back at the observer through over 2000 years. Due to the frozen earth, the Scythians were only able to bury their dead during summer. Their bodies were therefore embalmed and mummified, until a time came when they could be built proper tombs.

The exhibition cleverly weaves what few historical records we have together with archaeological finds. A quote from Herodotus is placed above a scattering of hemp seeds and a miniature wigwam of sticks and felt. He describes the effect that such apparatus had on the Scythians, who enjoyed them so much that they ‘howl with pleasure.’ To demonstrate the Scythian’s various trade routes with other countries, the exhibition shows Greek wine cups, Chinese silks and Indian cotton found in Scythian property, as well as depictions of the Scythians found in the ancient Persian capital, Persepolis.

Interviewed about the show, Curator John Simpson described the unique challenges the museum faced: “mostly in this museum we are familiar with peoples who built cities, lived in a built environment and wrote their own histories… The Scythians had no written language… and as nomadic herders they built nothing permanent except their tombs.” As such ‘The Scythians’ feels utterly fresh, an exploration of a culture that has never before been seen in such vivid colour on Britain’s shores. One can only wonder how the British Museum will top it.

A feminist rereading of Austen for 2018

0

I have always held a self-confessed fear of ‘classic’ literature. After reading, and despising, Little Women in Year 7 English I decided the black binding of Penguin classics wasn’t for me. I instead spent the majority of my teenage years perusing the work of 20th century American men.

It was only coming to Oxford, and being confronted by friends and peers who insisted I was missing out, that I re-considered. They argued that rather than reading the stagnant, contrived, drearily sexist ‘marriage-plot’ books I imagined, I could be awoken by the likes of Austen and Charlotte Brontë.

So, with relatively low expectations, I read Pride and Prejudice. I don’t think it will be much shock to you that I loved it. It seems I am not alone in loving Miss Elizabeth Bennet as a feminist hero. Every woman I’ve spoken to about the book has learnt something from Lizzie’s wit and confidence. She’s funny, snarky and never afraid to tell people what she’s thinking (whether it be to the formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh or our beloved Mr
Darcy). But despite her strengths, she is not perfect.

When Jane asks her when she first fell in love with Darcy, she replies “I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley”. Austen does nothing to try and paint Lizzie as a woman taken over by love. Rather, a stark practicality (and possible shallowness) remains with her even when she is encountering her happy ending.

Austen is undercutting the conventions of the romantic novel, whist at the same time commenting on the constraints imposed upon both the protagonist and the author. Elizabeth Bennet’s strength and confidence as a woman transcend the times. She is an example for any woman in today’s society.

Whilst reading Pride and Prejudice one cannot escape the confines of Georgian society. Everything they do is strange. There was little chance Jane Austen encountered over 100 people in her lifetime. She knew the families around them, and occasionally went on holiday to ‘the north’, or ‘the coast’. So it is for the Bennets. They exist entirely within an almost feudal societal model. There are staff and there are gentlemen. God forbid there be a working-class character in Pride and Prejudice, let alone a person of colour. Lizzie may be able to provide us with examples of ferocity, -but we must be careful not to read the book with any nostalgia.

Yes, they had English country dances, and weren’t weighed down with the pressure of social media and Instagram, but they also lived in a patriarchal (or rather, to use Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza’s term, kyriarchal) society, in which the lives of those considered lower in status were entirely dictated by the powerful. This makes the achievements of Pride and Prejudice even more astounding. Rather than looking to Lizzie the character as exemplary, we should look at Austen the author. Female writers in Austen’s times were entirely pigeonholed. Marriage-plot books. That was it.

It was more than a mere expectation; it was a necessity in order to be published. Within this context Austen managed to invert as many of the societal confines as she could. It is not the man who tames the woman into submission, but rather the woman who tames the man.

Mr Darcy is awoken by Lizzie, and has a moment of self-realisation due to her berating. Lizzie laughs at the ridiculousness of her society, the situation of her sisters and the desperation of her mother. Through Elizabeth’s voice Jane Austen was able to criticise from within.

The optimist can read Pride and Prejudice and reflect upon how far we have come. There is no denying this: my freedoms as a woman in 2018 are far beyond what Elizabeth Bennet could have imagined in 1797. In the time after the work’s publication the world has witnessed a social and feminist revolution, where women have made huge strides in both social and political spheres. However, it was not the contrasts between today’s society and that of Austen’s that prevailed, it was the similarities. The disgrace felt by Lydia which forces her into a marriage with Wickham are shockingly similar to the feelings of embarrassment, disgrace and compromise which prevented people from speaking out against Weinstein for so long, shame and guilt are feelings which transcend literature, transcend time periods.

For a modern feminist, therefore, Austen is not just a reminder of what women have achieved in the last two centuries, but a stark notice of the institutionalised kyriarchy which continue to pervade modern society, a system which we must continue to fight against with
increased fervour.

Night Out: Dangerous dancing and drag queens

0

Going out to Plush before the start of term is always cracked up to be a weird night. No one you know is around, the vibes are pretty much non-existent and the clubs are full of forty year old men trying to relive the ‘good old days’. Add to this the fact that it was a Wednesday, and you can see why I wasn’t anticipating a good night.

Regardless, my housemate and I tried to hype each other up over predrinks, insisting that going out before term starts would be liberating. We could do what we wanted, with who we wanted, and most importantly, leave for a cheesy chips when we wanted. Boozed and glittered up, we headed out into the night, unsure of what to expect from Oxford’s non-student clubbing scene.

When we got to the entrance, we were met with what was possibly the smallest queue outside an Oxford club that I’ve ever seen. It made me slightly worried that we’d have no company once we got in, but hey, it was a freezing January night and we were just happy for the short wait time.

Once inside, however, my eyes widened. I had expected the club to be barren, populated only by desperate singles looking for a mid-week hook up, but what I saw was an eclectic, eccentric and electric bunch of people, having what appeared to be a phenomenal time. Drinks in hand, we headed to the dance floor and went so hard that I managed to almost twist my ankle (not my finest moment). However everyone around me was so friendly, excited and enthusiastic to help, that they managed to alleviate my pain as I soldiered through the rest of the set, eager to pay the sesh its deserved tribute.

Several jägerbombs later, I stumbled into the smoking area and started up a conversation with a drag queen. 20 minutes later, I had received an inspirational pep-talk, some killer winged eyeliner tips, and an extensive tutorial on twerking. I made my way back into the club, feeling like a new woman, ready to take on Plush’s most glamorous feature: the pole.

I’m not entirely sure what happened after 1am, but the snapchat stories seem to suggest that the rest of my night continued to be as enjoyable as the first couple hours. Anyway, if the copious amounts of glitter in my hair the morning after is any indicator, I’d say it was a good night.

Doctor Feelgood offers a happy release from Oxford stress

You’ve seen the same post on your Facebook feed for the past seven days – “looking for Doctor Feelgood tickets”. It seems like everyone and their uncle wanted to go to this night. Understandable, considering that it is the first big night after dreaded Hilary collections. The question is – what was the hype all about? The answer was a night very different to what is normally held at The Bullingdon – a promising sign for accessible, student-run club nights.

In contrast to most other big soldout nights in Oxford, Doctor Feelgood is bereft of big names. Boasting a line up featuring the likes of ‘DJ Saïd Business School’ and ‘DJ Solo Live Help’, this was a bold and light-hearted amateur affair compared to the nights of Joy Orbison, Call Super, or  Mr Scruff. A DIY attitude infected the event. DJs interacted with each other onstage, exuding visible chemistry. This brought a personalised attitude that showed care and attention to the table.

It takes a lot of resources to run a Bullingdon night. One has to manage two separate DJ rooms, and there is a lot of space to fill and take care of, not forgetting the significantly greater sum of money required in booking compared to Cellar or Emporium. As a result, the nights held at Bullingdon are rarely run by students – large and mature institutions like Simple or Musical Medicine typically fill the space.

While those institutions are great and attract international names, there is certainly something exciting and motivating about seeing students from the same college and university up there playing in The Bullingdon. Hopefully we can trust our own people to know exactly what kind of music we want to hear – they sat through the same collection as us after all!

In contrast to the usual claustrophobic, cavernous atmosphere of The Bullingdon, a grand disco ball, hanging lanterns and swirling blue lights gave the room an airy feeling. Some things never change though, with the usual pranged out ravers clinging to sweaty side walls. However, the dancefloor’s centre had a far breezier and more laid-back atmosphere. The décor and music encouraged punters to treat each other with less aggression than usually seen.

For the past few years, the kind of student night that has been in vogue has been much more focused on aggression. Ever since the triptych of grime hits in 2015, grime has been back on the scene as the sort of sound students look for in a night out – faster paced, rawer sounding and shouted lyrics. Genres like bassline, grime, and drum and bass are all the rage – the dirtier the drop the better. Obviously, there’s a place for this music and it is understandable why it is so popular right now – students have plenty to be angry about from tuition fees and house prices to Brexit and Trump.

Doctor Feelgood on the other hand offered laidback and upbeat vibes – something that we all need following collections. House was the main focus – globally big, but locally underrepresented. Highlights included Gerd Janson & Shan’s ‘Surrender’, Kink’s remix of ‘Sunshine’ and Todd Terje’s classic ‘It’s the Arps’ – all summer anthems of their time. Those looking for a night with a harder sound may be disappointed.

This is not to say that the night was a uniform mix of slow burning fun songs. The pace of the night varied considerably, the pressure would drop back as a disco oldie played out before slowly rising to moments of percussive techno, all the time maintaining a bouncy and free sound. ‘Calypso’, a Carl Cox favourite, was a particularly hyperactive moment of the night.

In terms of mixing, the skill on offer was mostly good. Pop jams like ‘Doctor Pressure’ and Dannii Minogue’s ‘Baby Love’ fitted seamlessly into more obscure tracks to offer something for everyone. There was the occasional sloppy mix, but – considering we are dealing with local talent DJing difficult to mix melodic house – that is to be expected. The entire night exuded a summery energy that almost made one forget that we are in the depths of January.

For all my talk of an accessible night, however, the underrepresentation of female DJs must be noted. It is not a problem unique to Doctor Feelgood – most other nights routinely have all male line-ups. Perhaps the organisers struggled to find enough female talent – women are rarely encouraged to learn to DJ or become acquainted with dance music styles. However, hopefully campaigns by groups such as Cuntry Living can hopefully bring more women into the DJing scene and enable student nights to host more balanced line-ups.

Doctor Feelgood, although very much accessible both to participate in and to enjoy, was something different: professional but homemade, clearly capable of pulling off a largescale night at The Bullingdon. The music offered something familiar but all too under heard in Oxford. It was a fun, encouraging night the likes of which I can’t wait to attend soon.

Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. preview – ‘bracingly honest’

0

A young woman pelts into the space. ‘I’ve absolutely fucking cracked it’, she cries. A young man darts in after her, turns to the audience nearest him and insists that he is never aroused by porn. Amidst the woman’s continuing celebratory shouts, the man turns and, like an enthusiastic market seller touting for business, calls out across the room, ‘Hymens! Unruptured hymens for sale’. The woman then starts to explain why she’s so excited, but swears and scarpers offstage as if she’s forgotten something.

So began my privileged, early viewing of an extract from this week’s Oxford production of Alice Birch’s Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again.

I was treated to a further twenty frenetic and exhilarating minutes, in which four actors (three female, one male) repeatedly dive-bombed the stage, each giving voice to numerous characters in a mind-boggling variety of scenarios. Chaos, you might think. But, if so, it’s of the most entertaining, provocative and affecting sort that I’ve yet encountered. The cast carefully delineate every character with sensitivity, never falling into caricature. And in any case, I’m informed that most other scenes follow a more obviously discernible plot. Concerned that this might, in fact, inhibit the cast’s breath-taking energy, I’m reassured that all the scenes are performed with equal panache, each as if an impromptu improvisation in response to a ‘revolutionary’ manifesto-speak slogan, projected above the performance space.

The scene that I saw, the penultimate in the play, was entitled ‘GALVANISE’. Who was to be galvanised and to what end remained unclear, but, rather than shoddy, this seemed to me bracingly honest. Without a doubt, the whole play’s prevailing emphasis is that the relationship between the sexes remains far from equal. In the section that I was shown an employer struggles to praise an able female worker (‘fiercely intelligent – a little on the aggressive side’), while a range of scenarios involving trespass and theft highlight the offensive incongruity that many today still find it easier to respect an individual’s property rights than a woman’s right to control her own body. The limited contextual details for each fragmentary interjection contributed to a pervasive pessimism: when a girl, aged 12, protests against marrying her rapist are we in a grim Atwoodian vision of the future, or in present-day Columbia?

In the concluding monologue to the scene, delivered with heart-aching beauty and sincerity by Lucy Miles, Birch inveighs against any possible pride that we might harbour in the position of woman in our society, but accuses us of having failed to enhance the rich legacy of earlier generations: ‘we stopped watching and checking and nurturing the thought to become the action at some point’. Many of the preceding exchanges reinforce this overall assessment: the production of ‘STOP BEING SEXIST’ t-shirts as mere ‘Merchandise’ suggests a dangerous hollowness at the heart of ‘popular’ feminism; a little boy’s anxiety about his ‘cellulite’ seems to question how many of society’s ills should actually be laid at the door of sexism; and I’d challenge anyone not to feel confused and disconcerted by a child’s concern for the bleeding feet of a convicted rapist, serving a sentence of community service. Directors, Emma Howlett and Lauren Tavriger accentuate this tendency to refuse neat and simple answers with their decision to stage their production in a traverse configuration, affording different parts of their audience literally conflicting perspectives.

Nothing in the play from what I witnessed seemed to proffer any remedy for the persistence of sexism. And, yet, on leaving, I didn’t feel frustrated or disheartened, but energised. The true wonder of this piece – and especially of this production – is that it confronts its demanding subject matter with such energy, such enthusiasm and, it should be stressed, such humour that an audience cannot help but feel positive and encouraged for the future.

When first performed in 2014 Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again was quickly hailed as feminist rallying cry for today’s generation. I have little doubt that in this student production, opening on Wednesday (2nd week) at the Pilch Studio, the play will again prove an outstanding hit. But, now after the last bruising year, with the revelations of the Harvey Weinstein scandal and the #MeToo campaign, I can’t help but view the play more as a plea for recognition of our current parlous position than as a cry for immediate revolution. Like the woman who thought she’d ‘absolutely fucking cracked it’, we may have to think again.

Lets talk about: cultural appropriation

2

Cultural appropriation is defined as elements of a minority culture being co-opted by members of a dominant culture. This misappropriation is mired in an underlying power imbalance, and often implications of a colonial past.

This disparity is made all the more harmful when members of minority cultures are often actively dissuaded from engaging with or exhibiting their culture, being told to assimilate and appear ‘less ethnic’, while members of a dominant culture are deemed trendy for ‘borrowing’ elements of that same culture. It’s easy to dismiss it as a hyperbolised issue, to claim that it’s not ‘real’ racism, or even state that it ought to be encouraged because it promotes diversity. But stripping symbols and artefacts of their cultural context is consistently damaging.

The Swastika, for instance, is widely stigmatised in today’s Western world as an emblem of hatred, bigotry, and white supremacy. This delegation has everything to do with the fact that Nazis adopted the symbol in the 1930s, and nothing to with the symbol’s ancient role in Hindu, Jain, and Buddhist iconography as an indicator of auspicious tidings.

In the United States, countless sports teams derive their mascots and names from caricaturing Native American culture and perpetuating harmful ethnic stereotypes, such as the Kansas City Chiefs, the Cleveland Indians, and the Washington Redskins – all of which capitalise on the Native symbols they have taken and reduced to props for their own franchises, which earn them millions.

No matter how much people insist this kind of hypervisibility is some sort of compliment to the culture from which a symbol is taken, the fact remains that cultural appropriation does little to benefit members of minority cultures, and often harms them. Native Americans themselves enjoy little to none of the financial gain borne of the flagrant disrespect of their culture – in 2013, only five players across the entirety of the USA’s National Football League were of Native American origin.

Those who argue that Native Americans should be grateful for the spotlight shone on their culture overlook the fact that the image of Native Americans being disseminated by these mascots is not an accurate one entrenched in any awareness of the culture, but rather one formed from a conflation of offensive ethnic stereotypes stemming from a history of racism and colonialism.

While dreadlocks have been adopted as accessories for white counterculture and the Hippie movement, the black communities from which the hairstyles originate must still contend with negative stereotypes and assumptions related to the hairstyle – often black people are banned from wearing their natural hair or dreadlocks in the workplace.

The Dotbusters were a hate group operating in America in 1987 who targeted South Asian immigrants, specifically women wearing bindis. Yet today, bindis are marketed as ‘festival face gems’ and worn as cheap accessories to festivals such as Coachella, with little respect for their role as Hindu or Jain religious motifs, as well as the violence and discrimination that South Asian women continue to face for wearing them.

The sharing and experiencing of other cultures is an invaluable tool in strengthening tolerance and diversity across communities, and is to be encouraged. But sharing implies something that is done on equal footing. It requires the consent of the minority community and must be done with an understanding that you are participating in something that is not your own.

To appropriate a culture is to approach a minority culture with a sense of entitlement, the feeling that the power you hold as a member of the dominant culture allows you to simply pick and choose elements of another person’s lifestyle as though it’s a dress-up box that requires no context, credit, or knowledge.

To appropriate a culture is to belittle it. Choose to appreciate different cultures instead. Try new cuisines, learn different languages, watch foreign films or listen to foreign music, buy handicrafts from fair trade shops so that your purchases benefit and credit their creators and their countries.

Just remember, when you copy work or don’t cite sources in an essay, it is plagiarism. When you illegally watch or download a film, it is piracy. Both plagiarism and piracy are, essentially, theft, and therefore so is cultural appropriation – the theft of respect and credit from communities and cultures who so sorely deserve it.

Period poverty is a national embarrassment, not a ‘women’s issue’

2

It’s somehow both brilliant and bleak that 2017 was the first year in which the word ‘period’ was first used in a house of parliament. Last year brought significant milestones in the fight to end ‘period poverty’, a cause that has been championed by the 18-year-old activist Amika George with her #FreePeriods movement.

Yet, as George’s campaign stresses, period poverty is an unacceptable part of everyday life for many children from low-income backgrounds – and one that has gone unchallenged for far too long.

“I think that the existence of period poverty only came to public consciousness as recently as this year, when reports of girls routinely missing school because they couldn’t afford menstrual products were thrust into the media glare” George told Cherwell. “What’s been depressing since then is the lack of any affirmative action by the government, despite outrage and horror that girls were often using socks stuffed with tissue, or newspaper.”

George started an online petition in April 2017 after reading a report about children in the UK who regularly miss school for up to a week per month, due to not being able to afford adequate sanitary supplies. Addressed to Justine Greening and Theresa May, it calls on the government to offer free sanitary protection to children on free school meals. George explains: “Justine Greening’s stance on period poverty is that the onus lies firmly with schools and parents and the government has absolved themselves of any responsibility in finding a solution.

“I think this is terribly myopic – we all know how stretched school funding is, and it’s clear that they’re facing a funding crisis, which is a real challenge for many educational establishments.

“In addition, there is such abject poverty in the UK that families are struggling to buy food and are dependent on donations at food banks. When there’s no cash for food, where is money for period products going to come from?”

The Free Periods movement has estimated that the cost of supplying sanitary products to children on free school meals would be around £4.78 million – a trivial amount given the billions of pounds currently spent on projects such as Trident.

Crucially, this would redress the damaging educational deficit being created by the embarrassment and fear which causes young women to miss school on a regular basis. It is important to remember too that this is a situation affecting many children worldwide. The charity initially approached by schools in Leeds, Freedom4Girls, focuses mainly on supporting girls in Kenya.

Even for those privileged enough not to have to worry about a lack of sanitary supplies, the embarrassment of a period (particularly in a school environment) is a familiar memory – sneaking a tampon up the sleeve here, slowly and quietly ripping open a pad there.

Encouragingly, there are a number of MPs who have declared their support for George’s campaign. A London protest on December 20 saw speakers including Jess Phillips and the MP for Oxford West and Abingdon, Layla Moran, who recently spoke candidly to parliament about her own memories of period shame at school.

As George told Cherwell: “it’s so important to have MPs who are vociferous in speaking out on behalf of women in the House of Commons because we are underrepresented in the House in the first instance and women’s issues may well get side-lined by other more ‘pressing’ issues.”

So far, George’s campaign has been hugely successful, attracting just over 138,000 signatures at the time of writing. It highlights the important link between educational potential and period poverty, and at the same time has crucially important things to say about how we are educated about menstruation in the first place, and the severity of this issue.

Period poverty should not be a ‘women’s issue’ when it is part of the wider fight against educational inequality. As George told Cherwell: “we need to dispel the culture of shame and embarrassment that we inherit from a young age about our periods and we need to work together to embrace them, to celebrate how ridiculously powerful our bodies are. “Education is key and will underpin any shift in perception on periods – the curriculum needs to change and schools must talk about periods with girls and boys must be part of that, too.”

George hopes that by fighting period poverty and normalising periods, we can take another step towards eradicating the sexism and hypocrisy that still looms over public discussions of what a woman’s body should be.

Positive change is happening in the way the media talk about periods, such as a sanitary advert using real blood rather than blue liquid, (though as George points out, it hasn’t yet been televised). With the continued campaigning of inspirational women like Amika George, we are already beginning to see a much-needed overhaul in the way we interact with periods.