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  • The Scottish Students Campaign

    This article was written by Daniel Geen, Lauren Galligan and Eve Simpson and discusses responses that were submitted by Scottish students at The University of Edinburgh regarding their experiences of classism, elitism or feelings of marginalisation based on their Scottish identity. The idea for this article emerged as a response to an article written for The Guardian that discussed issues of northern-English identities at northern Universities as it was felt that similar issues faced Scottish students in Edinburgh. Many of the student responses detail how their Scottish identity has led to varying magnitudes of elitist microaggressions, which are also occasionally entangled with sexist and/or racist comments. Microaggressions can be defined as ‘everyday verbal, non-verbal and environmental slights, snubs or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, which communicate hostile, derogatory or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalised group membership’ (Sue et.al, 2019). ‘We become a novelty’ one respondent remarked, referring to the position of Scottish students, particularly those from state schools, in Edinburgh’s student population. This position of Scottish students results in a power dynamic in which majority groups, ‘posh’ and/or privately educated students – as mentioned in student responses, feel entitled to immediately disregard and belittle Scottish students for their accent or their hometown/city. This position of Scottish students results in a power dynamic in which majority groups, ‘posh’ and/or privately educated students – as mentioned in student responses, feel entitled to immediately disregard and belittle Scottish students for their accent or their hometown/city. Nearly all respondents raised experiences of (micro)aggressions that they faced as a result of their Scottish accent, which, although not necessarily an instance of elitist discrimination, there remain striking parallels between the two. This follows as a result of harmful stereotypes of Scotland as ‘uncivilised’, ‘scummy’ or ‘crime-infested’ that as student’s assert, result in their being classed in the eyes of their non-Scottish peers. This is most explicit in a response from a ‘comfortably middle-class’ Scottish student who felt the weight of these stereotypes, resulting in a simultaneous mixture of being disregarded whilst also being subjected to ‘hyper-attention’, as if their peers were waiting for them to ‘slip-up’ whilst speaking in a seminar. Here, what is notable is how elitist assumptions about Scottish identity are projected back onto Scottish students as their position in the student populous results in a persistent feeling of difference and alienation. This feeling of alienation is salient in those responses of working-class or socio-economically disadvantaged Scottish students. Scottish student who felt the weight of these stereotypes, resulting in a simultaneous mixture of being disregarded whilst also being subjected to ‘hyper-attention’, as if their peers were waiting for them to ‘slip-up’ whilst speaking in a seminar. Such harmful stereotypes are not only an issue within academic contexts but regularly punctuate Scottish student’s social lives. Students that referenced their working-class background were often seen as stupid and used for comedic value by other students. One working-class student felt they were seen as ‘lesser’ because of their Glaswegian accent, with another being told they ‘speak gibberish’ and sounded ‘funny’. Another student from the Scottish borders described feeling alienated from peers who spoke in ‘posh’ accents, contributing to the impostor syndrome they felt in their first year, which ultimately led to them dropping out of Edinburgh. Working-class students with Scottish accents are often actively mocked, perceived as objects of fascination, with one student being asked to ‘repeat certain phrases and words over and over so that they could mimic my accent’. This trend is common, with another student saying: ‘I come from a poorer area in the West of Scotland, and I have a thick accent and use lots of slang. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and they all just kinda laugh at the way I speak and don’t actually listen to what I’m saying, asking me to say different words.’ Such ridicule is inherently entangled with elitism and usually stems from students with received pronunciation, a luxury typically afforded to grammar or privately educated students, who conflate this with intelligence and social worth. Working-class students with Scottish accents are often actively mocked, perceived as objects of fascination, with one student being asked to ‘repeat certain phrases and words over and over so that they could mimic my accent’. Therefore, having a Scottish accent generally leads to feelings of isolation amongst Scottish students. Yet, Scottish students with accents from low socio-economic backgrounds seem to experience more active forms of discrimination than those who did not reference their socio-economic status: ‘add to our Scottish accents our working-class backgrounds and we became a rare relic in Scotland’s own capital city.’ The pervasiveness and power of such elitist assumptions of Scottish identity is evidenced throughout student responses; not only are these assumptions classed but they are also racialised. BAME Scottish students have detailed the (micro)aggressions they have faced as a result of harmful stereotypes that ‘whitewash’ Scottish identity, which in turn has resulted in BAME Scottish students having their ‘Scottishness’ questioned or denied. That privileged students at this University feel entitled to question or belittle another student’s national identity on too many instances makes emphatic the hierarchies such students continually impose, however unintentionally this may be. Many of the preconceptions about Scottish students at Edinburgh University originate from misunderstanding and a lack of self-awareness on the part of English students in particular. This is evident in many of the contributions which touch on the feelings of exclusion as a result of a general unfamiliarity with the Scottish system of education and the structures of grading, which often leads to a dismissal of any grades which do not fit the A-level system and sometimes even evoke claims that they ‘don’t count,’ or are lesser. According to the students who contributed, there is a consensus that Scottish students are often made to feel inferior, with phrases like ‘you only got in because you are Scottish’ implying they are less deserving of a place at the University or did not try as hard as their non-Scottish peers to get in. On top of this, the resentment towards Scottish students seems to have a great deal to do with the difference between fees, which is manifesting itself into a general undermining of Scottish students’ potential and their right to be at the University of Edinburgh. According to the students who contributed, there is a consensus that Scottish students are often made to feel inferior, with phrases like ‘you only got in because you are Scottish’ implying they are less deserving of a place at the University... These preconceptions about Scottish students and their admission to University seem to be tied in significantly with prejudices about areas in Scotland more generally. From many of the contributions, it is clear that there is a harmful consensus amongst classist students about Glasgow in particular, with many of the prejudices stemming from ideas about crime rates and class structures, with working-class Glaswegian students feeling particularly alienated. These elitist stereotypes and prejudices result in a further difficulty for Scottish students who are made to feel as though they must legitimise their place at the University. These elitist stereotypes and prejudices result in a further difficulty for Scottish students who are made to feel as though they must legitimise their place at the University. Whilst the experiences of Scottish students can not be homogenised, our campaign has sought to highlight general trends of classism and elitism prevalent within academic and social settings at The University of Edinburgh. This campaign aimed to give a platform and visibility to issues faced by Scottish students at a Scottish University, as well as highlighting the intersections of class, race and national identity. Hopefully, with greater awareness of the variety of negative experiences facing Scottish students our campaign can work to expose and challenge harmful stereotypes and prejudices. Daniel Geen, Lauren Galligan and Eve Simpson are students at the University of Edinburgh. This article was edited by Kirsty Thomson (sourced) and Tamara El-Halawani.

  • In Conversation: Gabi Livingstone

    Chloe Lawson interviews Gabi Livingstone, the student behind the Instagram @theunheardgroup, which recounts the experiences faced by young people who have lost a parent to cancer or who have a parent currently fighting the disease. At age 15, amid National 5 exams, Gabrielle Livingstone was told her Dad had been diagnosed with terminal skin cancer. Her life was irrevocably changed. In her first years at University the anger and sadness she felt spiralled into a “fuck everything mentality”- her mental health deteriorated, effecting her life and studies. With around 1000 new Cancer cases daily in the UK alone, there is an abundance of support for those suffering from cancer themselves. Yet Gabi felt isolated in her experience due to a distinct absence of conversations and spaces dedicated to the young people whose parents are diagnosed. In October, she set up ‘The Unheard Group’ (@theunheardgroup) as a response to this absence. Primarily, the page is a space for the teenagers and young people such as herself who have lost a parent to cancer or have a parent currently fighting the disease. Alongside this, Gabi offers advice for students struggling as a result of the imposed solitude that has come from our current covid-19 reality. A frightening side effect of the Global pandemic has been the deterioration of the mental health of young people, with 8 student suicides in the first month of the last semester. This page offers much-needed advice and reassurance to those feeling disconnected and helpless as the world battles the coronavirus. The inviting, pastel-coloured grid includes self-care tips alongside personal and touching stories from Gabi and her friends. In the short space of time, the page has been met with enormous enthusiasm and appreciation, which is clear from just a short glance at the comments left on her beautifully curated and strikingly honest posts. At the time of writing, the page has nearly 2000 followers and has recently reached the attention of the BBC. I met Gabi on a typically cold Edinburgh morning in the Meadows. What became most evident during the short conversation was her bubbliness and dedication to her page and its followers. What has blown her away is the strength, resilience and support shown by the people who have reached out to her. She has plans to establish a Facebook page to properly respond to the copious amounts of messages she receives, as she emphasised how important it was to her to reply wholeheartedly to the incredibly personal and moving stories she receives. I ask her if she expected such a big response so quickly- “No!”, she says emphatically, “I am absolutely shocked at how crazy this has been, with the BBC involved and the incredible messages I have received”. Gabi has been heard on BBC Radio Scotland multiple times, appeared on BBC Scotland ‘The Nine’ last week and she can currently be spotted on the official BBC Instagram. The reception for her page and the emergence of such a compassionate community has allowed her to find new ways to cope with her Dad’s illness, “It’s such a great outlet to just rant and get out all my feelings and then to hear that all these people feel the same is just… wow, I have no words!” she says, with immense gratitude. The posts and stories on the page cover all manner of issues that affect young people today, including University drinking culture, ‘Hangxiety’ and Seasonal Affective Disorder (I followed the advice to buy a SAD light and I can highly recommend it!). In this way, the page brings together all teenagers and students, including those who have not been through the same experience as Gabi. One aspect that we discuss is the pressure to drink and use drugs at University, and the gut-wrenching ‘Hangxiety’ all too familiar to many students. “I think in the UK we have a big issue with glamorising alcohol and drugs, there’s so much pressure to ‘fit in’”, she says, able to reflect on her own experiences with drug and alcohol abuse in her early years at University. One of the aims for the page is to create an open conversation about the dangers and effects of drugs and alcohol. Gabi is incredibly honest about the experiences she has had in the past in efforts to cope with her Dad’s illness, encouraging others not to succumb to peer-pressure or FOMO. I finish our conversation by asking how she has found living in Lockdown for most of this year, and, like the majority of people, she struggled. Living in a flat in Glasgow was incredibly restricted, and it took a toll on her mental health. Back at University, she appreciates the Tier system and absence of the second lockdown in Edinburgh, but “I feel so much for people back in a proper lockdown” she sympathises. She is lucky to have supportive flatmates, whom she describes as “her sisters” and is enjoying spending time with them. Her methods for coping have been to “go on big walks, cook good food, watch good TV and focus on me!” Chloe is a History student at the University of Edinburgh. Gabi is a student at the Edinburgh Napier University. This article was edited by Tamara El-Halawani, a student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • Activism and the internet: A true power couple?

    Lucy Gavaghan takes a retrospective look at activism over the last few years. She tackles 'slacktivism' and the power that online activism can have. Image description: As a group, we’re based in different cities (even different countries) so in one respect our organising hasn’t changed significantly - we still communicate online (via Zoom and Slack) and much of our work is spread via social media. We also released a set of eight housing posters just before Christmas, because we see the need for housing organising as a response to people losing their jobs, not being able to pay rent etc. in the pandemic. We're giving these out for free for people to put up (just send us a message), or you can buy one for your room and support our work. If you’re a social media user, it’s safe to say that you will have likely seen or conducted some form of 'clicktivism' in the past weeks and months. The murder of George Floyd, coupled with the constraints on physical organising and protest produced by the pandemic, saw an explosion of internet activity and exemplified the powers of (and doubts circling) virtual activism. ‘Clicktivism’ refers to the relatively new phenomenon of digital campaigning and, namely, online petitions. Whilst many embrace e-petition platforms as a tool of empowerment for otherwise stifled issues and voices, some claim that online signatures only evidence shallow commitment to a cause and may even serve to quash more meaningful action. The argument sounds something like this: we see a trending campaign as we scroll down our social feeds; moved by the cause (or its perceived popularity) we press a link, fill in a few details, and voilà. Problem solved! This is where the idea of ‘clicktivism’ picks up a different neologism - ‘slacktivism’. Delving into this term can help us to challenge the assumptions it makes and the realities it obscures. Some would suggest that acts such as e-petition signing are ‘too easy’, that there isn’t any real commitment to the cause, or that it simply can’t create substantive change. This in itself is a lax argument to make. There should be no barriers to this kind of engagement - this is a key niche in politics and social change in the online world. Anyone and everyone regardless of identity or history should be able to use these platforms to put forward their call for change at any level of politics and society. It isn’t the fact of a petition taking an electronic form that determines its success, rather, it is the people behind it and the minds and voices it attracts along the way which infuse it with potential. Soaring signature counts are the product of passion and drive from the individuals and groups - and it would be a brave critic who calls the concrete changes sparked by online petitions a product of ‘slacktivism’. From overturning the Boy Scouts of America’s ban on gay youth in 2013 to galvanising demands for justice following the murder of George Floyd this summer with nearly 20 million signatures, petitions are proving their centrality in defending human rights and calling out systemic brokenness the world over. In our present era of information and technology, we need to envision e-petitions as an impeccably powerful, oftentimes crucial, tool in social change as opposed to an isolated means to an end. ‘Clicktivism’, be it sharing content on social media to spread awareness, viral hashtags, or e-petitions is an instrument and catalyst of deeper movements and a temperature gauge for public opinion. Laura Coryton launched the ‘Stop Taxing Periods’ petition in May 2014 and has been a key voice in the build-up of pressure on the government ever since. Campaigners have been working on the issue for decades and Rishi Sunak’s budget for 2020 marked a watershed moment for an inspirational force of activists including Laura. The battle for progress persists and Laura has captured the imaginations of many. Her supporters have been active in maintaining pressure over time, pulling issues of menstruation and inequality from the shadows of stigma and taking Sunak’s commitment as a step in the direction of a continuing movement. ‘Clicktivism’ is the public contribution to a rallying cry of others. The initial impetus to turn to the internet can stem from the most human of frustrations, often compounded over time and triggered in unexpected ways. Yes, virality is fickle. It often fades following an explosion in popularity, and some issues do slip beneath the radar of public attention. What we need to hold onto is the idea that successes embody more momentum, human energy and struggling than anyone headline can capture. Like-minded people who may be geographically or socially dispersed can join in solidarity. Activism is messy. In a way, that’s what makes it so beautiful. It’s easy to construct a critique of clicktivism by equating success with, for example, immediate policy changes. In this framing, if the calls of a petition or a movement birthed in online networks aren’t seamlessly absorbed into the political agenda, then we can dismiss those involved as slackers. Campaigns, whether they exist and play out online, in public spaces or develop in communities or homes, share a need for momentum. Energy is built over time and carried, not just in a click or any defining moment, but from the trials and tribulations of seeking growth and traction. COVID-19 has reinforced the value of online communication and the petition website Change.org has witnessed a remarkable spike in activity: recording 3 times usual rate of petitions started and 7 times the number of signatures. To extract the full potential of our current moment and seek a future of richer social and political engagement, we need to take a more conscious approach to online activism. One in which we challenge lazy dismissal of online engagement as pointless or performative. When the inherent power of the internet is harnessed effectively, marginalized voices and stories can be elevated alongside our understanding of our milieu. Couple that with the power residing in us all and we can crystallise our compassion around injustices on every level. Ultimately, ‘clicktivism’ has as much potential as we choose to vest in it. Lucy Gavaghan is a 1st Year International Law & International Relations student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • Gender Politics in The Queen’s Gambit

    Kiera Mann provides an interesting review into the series 'The Queen's Gambit', revealing where it falls short and where it may be redeemed. Artwork Description: Clean beauty’ is a collage which refers to a standardised and regulated idea of beauty that has persisted throughout western popular culture and is still ever present in today’s ‘progressive’ society. There is an obvious double standard in the ways we view beauty in terms of gender. The perpetuation of idealistic beauty standards and over sexualisation of women in the media is demonstrative of ideas which still place women’s physical appearance as a marker of their worth. The black gloves in the image serve to represent a sort of enforced sexuality that is never an expression of the individual, but rather an expression of what is expected of the individual. The Queen’s Gambit has taken Netflix by storm since it aired last month, and for good reason. If you’re one of the few people yet to watch, or should we say binge it, then this article is your sign. Following Beth Harmon, a Kentucky born orphan in the 1950s, the show tracks her journey to becoming a national chess prodigy. Being set against the backdrop of the Cold War, and showing the interactions between American and the Soviet chess stars, the show was always going to have some interesting politics. But, overshadowing the Cold-War references are the colourful and provocative gender tropes tackled by the producers. Despite revolving around the heavily male-dominated world of competitive chess, it is the plethora of strong female figures that advance and facilitate the plot. In doing so, they draw attention to long-standing, and all-too-familiar gender tropes that are still prominent in today's world. Beth’s adoptive mother, Alma Wheatley, tackles alcohol dependence, a distant and arguably abusive husband, and a shattered dream of being a concert pianist. Her virtuosity is something she shares with no other; her love of classical music thus becomes a guilty pleasure. She is the product of an invisible and mundane domestic life, with seemingly no friends or extended family. She is stuck in an unhappy marriage with Mr Wheatley, a cold and heartless man who is the embodiment of the individualistic 'American Dream’: a white man who has dedicated his life to travelling the country for work, whatever that mysterious work may be. Despite this unhappy existence and her initially rocky relationship with Beth, Alma is eventually seen in a favourable light through her dedication to aiding Beth in the pursuit of her dream as an international chess player. She is a lonely woman who is a representation of the outwardly-happy, inwardly-depressed housewife of 1950s America; she has the house, the husband, and the car, yet still feels unfulfilled in her seemingly meaningless day-to-day existence. It is unsurprising that as she passes through her teenage years, we see Beth herself begin to face some of these same demons. Maturing from an awkward schoolgirl into a sophisticated and chic young adult is not a smooth path for Beth. Her dependence on the tranquillising ‘green pills’ in her childhood orphanage safely plants the seed for her later drug and alcohol abuse. After errand-running for Alma in the local pharmacy, and becoming reconnected with the pills that played such a huge role in her young life, Beth succumbs to them once again. This growing dependence culminates in the months after the sudden death of Alma, where we see an on-screen depiction of Beth painfully mourning alone, in an unhealthy and upsetting way. These binges, unsurprisingly, threaten to ruin her chess career, something that could be taken as a reinforcement of the ever-present idea that women are biologically too emotional for important careers. However, a closer look into Beth’s lonely reality as the sole woman in the world of competitive chess offers a far more sympathetic understanding of her actions. As her success grows, we watch Beth amass some wealth and splash out on all the things she longed for growing up. Despite this, her way of life is an isolated one, and these material goods do not bring Beth the happiness she once thought they would. She has pushed everyone who cared for her away, most notably her ex-rival turned situationship Harry Beltick, and is left with nothing other than her material items. It is also interesting that after embodying the ‘not like other girls’ trope throughout her childhood, Beth undergoes a transformation by which she conforms to prevailing beauty standards as soon as she has the financial means to do so. This conformity is an interesting choice by the show; it appears to stick to the narrative that to become noticeable, women must first become physically desirable. It’s Anne Hathaway in The Princess Diaries, except this time, it’s 2020. The saviour of the show’s representation of female characters is Beth's childhood best friend, Jolene. After we see her struggle to get adopted as the only black girl in the orphanage, Jolene makes a surprise return when Beth is at her lowest, pulling her out of the darkness. Jolene breaks every on-screen stereotype she could have been subjected to as a woman of colour: she is independent, successful, and a kind and supportive friend to Beth. She also breaks down the societal norms of the time, being the only black woman at the law firm she works at and striving to become a qualified lawyer. Despite her limited role, a result of the fact that she never escaped the orphanage until she reached adulthood, Jolene’s character is a fan favourite, with many even calling for a spin-off series revolving around her future success. I think we can all agree that this would be an excellent and uplifting show, albeit in very different ways to Beth’s story. This is proof if proof were needed, that audiences respond to well-rounded, autonomous, female characters. Despite this last-ditch effort to portray a more balanced depiction of the plight of women in the 1950s through Jolene, I think audiences expect more than this in 2020. It is disappointing to see a modern show with so much potential for a progressive tackling of gender politics revert to the classic trope that a woman’s beauty can solve all her problems. Whilst the style transformation of Beth is impressive, through presenting this exterior change as a solution for her wider life problems, it perpetuates the message to the young girls of today that it is not what’s on the inside, but what’s on the outside that counts.

  • In Conversation: Nayna Florence

    Nayna Florence Patel (@naynaflorence) is a 20-year-old influencer from London who studies at Edinburgh University. She has 202k subscribers on YouTube, and if that isn’t enough she also has 80.7k Instagram followers and recently became a podcaster. Her ethos consists of veganism and maintaining a sustainable lifestyle while being a student. She manages to build a connection with her followers which feels more like a friendship than anything else. Let's get to know her a little better ... Edinburgh - a guide to Edinburgh during a pandemic - Okay, that was all that was just like the little like Edinburgh guidance. R: So you study at Edinburgh University and have spent the past semester there. What have been your favourite things to do while being restricted by the pandemic? N: I recommend visiting Portobello beach, I sometimes even go swimming in the sea! I went to Stockbridge for the first time this semester, and it is nice, with some good charity shops. R: Since you are a big foodie, what are your favourite Edinburgh take-aways? N: Hula is an all-time favourite. I also love Brochan, the porridge place in Marchmont and Paradise Palms. University R: How do you balance the work that your degree in Economics demands of you, with creating content for Youtube, Instagram and now a podcast as well? N: Being organised and disciplined. I make lots of to-do lists and also try to have separation. So I'll try and do uni work in the library and then YouTube stuff at home. To be honest it is not that hard though. After a long day of University work, I am genuinely looking forward to editing a video or something. I find it enjoyable. R: After finishing your degree do you think you will want to go into a job that is Economics focused or would you consider giving all your time to this career you have created for yourself? N: I don't think I'd ever want to do solely this. I think what makes my content interesting is the fact that other things are going on in my life. Additionally, I think it's the kind of thing that if you were like relying on it for an income, it would be really stressful and potentially damaging to your mental health as it is all relying on other people's opinion of you. But I also don't know if I'd necessarily want to do something in Economics, I think I’d prefer to go into a business-focused career, or maybe humanitarian. YouTube R: You started your YouTube channel in July 2018 but often speak about wanting to start it up way before then. So I was wondering what gave you that final push of confidence to go for it? N: I think I was just scared of what people at school would think. I started it up when I finished school so I had the mindset that either no one could say anything or if they did, I could just cut them out. I wouldn’t have to see them anymore. Also, because I was going to University I thought that'd be interesting to document my time and look back on it even if I never posted the videos or anything. It would just be cool for me. R: Let’s talk about the growth of your channel - you are now at 202k subscribers which let’s be honest is a huge amount of people. What do you think were the main contributing factors to this growth? N: I feel like in part, you just kind of get lucky with some videos getting pushed to loads of people. I also try to make videos that are what I would like to watch and I try to have a different style of editing I guess. But honestly, I'd love to know why as well. R: Do you feel like you've come to terms of this growth yet? N: It feels unreal to me, especially because so much of the growth was during the pandemic. So I haven't gone to meet anyone or done anything like that, so it just looks like a number on a screen sometimes. In short, no definitely not. R: What is your favourite thing about doing all of this? N: Building a following and having people to talk to that are interested in the same things that I am. That's cool. Also because my degree is maths based and academic, it's cool to have something a bit more creative to put effort into. Especially this year I don't know what I would have done with my time if I didn't have all of this. Podcast R: You have recently started a podcast ‘Growing With The Flow’. I know you are a fan of podcasts - can you tell us your 3 favourites? N: The High Low is amazing but that has just ended. It is hard to narrow it down but I also love What We Said and the Deliciously Ella podcast. R: What made you want to branch out into podcasting? N: I think some topics don’t work well in video form because it's just me talking and I don't feel that makes for an interesting video. Also, the length of a podcast is a lot longer than a video so you can go into more depth. I always just want to be part of the things I like. I liked watching YouTube videos so I decided to make some, and I like listening to podcasts so I started recording them. R: For those who haven’t listened yet, what kind of content can they expect to hear. N: I want it to be a mix of stuff. I've done an episode on veganism and a couple of chatty episodes as well. I will also be covering topics such as sustainability and the pressures of University and imposter syndrome. I think whatever's relevant at the time as well. R: How has the reception been from the first three episodes you have already released? N: I think it's been really good. Podcasts are a bit different from YouTube because there's no comments or likes or anything. There have been a few reviews and I have positive DMs about it. Morals and ethics R: You have been vegan for 5 years now. How have you found maintaining the lifestyle and has it gotten easier over the years in terms of your personal growth and also how society has shifted? N: For me, at the start, I was focusing more on the health benefits, whereas now I do it more for the environmental benefits for the planet and animals. I think it's easier to maintain something if you're doing it for other people than yourself. In terms of more widely, I think it's become a lot more accessible. You can buy way more stuff in supermarkets and most restaurants will have at least one vegan option now. So that's better. Additionally, there's a lot more in the news and just in general, on social media etc., about climate change, and that sort of thing. So I think that's changed a lot in the last five years. R: It was more recently that you decided to boycott fast fashion brands and only shop second hand (like from depop and charity shops) or from ethical, sustainable stores. What made you decide to adopt this lifestyle, and how would you encourage others to do the same? N: I watched a couple of documentaries on it and I got emotionally invested in that sort of thing. Once you have been shown the truth of where clothes are coming from, I find it difficult to ignore. It is important to remember that anything you do to make a change is positive. It doesn't have to be like all or nothing. Christmas R: What is your favourite vegan Christmas food? N: I love a nut roast, although I think we are having a mushroom Wellington this year as my whole family is now vegan. R: Finally what Christmas day activities do you enjoy the most? N: We don't have loads of crazy traditions. We normally go on a walk and I like a board game as well. My favourite is articulate. Nayna was interviewed by Rachel Watkins, a third year Economics and Politics student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • In Conversation: Audacious Aunties

    With national lockdowns and far more free time than we had been used to, more students than ever are starting up podcasts. A really fun way to share ideas and spark conversation, there are so many great ones local to Edinburgh run by students that we just had to chat with them. Starting off, we want to introduce you to Audacious Aunties by Mavir Dobb and Asyia Iftikhar, who have embarked on their third sensational season. K: Let’s start off easy: When did you guys start the podcast? What made you decide to do it? Why this particular subject? M: We started it out in the summer of 2019, after spending a long time thinking and chatting about all we had learnt at University in our first year; we were both unimpressed about how our curriculum hadn't really widened up to the world and was incredibly Western-centric. I study History and Spanish and Asyia does Classics and while they tried a little, neither were quite there. It’s frustrating for me that we’re at such a high level of education and nothing was being done to try and decolonise the curriculum; if it isn’t happening at university it won’t be happening at any of the lower levels. We also thought it would be a really great learning curve for us both; you’ll see in the podcast we don’t act as though we are professionals, we genuinely are just going on this learning curve with our listeners. It’s been really fun, I think especially within the arts which are considered to be heavily whitewashed. I know within countries like the UK its hard for people of colour to feel as though they are being seen and represented, but we’re able to show that art is happening everywhere. It’s nice to open people’s eyes to just how diverse the arts can be. A: I honestly couldn’t add any more. Manny’s genuinely summed it up perfectly. K: I love that. I do History too with English and we’re actively trying to write to the people higher up about how they need to change things. Do you think Edinburgh specifically is particularly bad and lagging behind? Within both the university and beyond? M: I think they are trying but sometimes I feel as though it's tokenistic; I remember in first year we had a course in medieval worlds. You’d think the course would be about the world because it literally says so in the title but they spent barely two lectures talking about what was happening outside of Europe. If the course is 22 lectures, it's really upsetting that we weren’t learning more. I’m in my third year now and I look at all the courses and whilst there’s a couple which are really good and very interesting when you look at them compared to the endless list of Western courses, it’s really problematic. I find it funny that there are courses dedicated to tiny moments in Western history, but there’s nothing that goes into that level of focus for the rest of the world. K: You can’t really specialise till honours level either so for all the first and second years, you only have what they feed to you. I’m not sure about Classics but within History and English, you can’t delve into things at all. A: It’s much the same really, you have a lot of compulsory stuff but we are given the opportunity to do some modules outside of the discipline. Often though they are very competitive so a lot of the ones I applied to I just didn’t get into because they were either already full or other students were given priority. I feel it’s very much for show; if you say to the department that you want more modules on something else they just dismiss it, saying that you do have the option. We don’t really though. M: The fact that it is so oversubscribed in itself shows that there are people who want to learn about what’s happening! A: Exactly. It’s infuriating. K: It’s important they try but it's so clear that there is just so much more that can and that should be done. I wonder if perhaps five years or so down the line whether or not things will have changed. I have this very real hope that things will change for the better-especially amongst students there is a clear demand for change. I just hope it does happen and the people higher up listen. M: Me too. I see there is this sort of attitude where they are patting themselves on the back thinking they have achieved it but clearly it’s not true. I think though at the moment with the added pressure of things like BLM and student protesting they will be forced to reanalyse the systematic racism in their departments. K: Goodness. Right, on a much happier note, the podcast! I absolutely love it; I’ve not found anything else like it and I love that it is so unique. There isn’t anyone else really who does what you guys do. I’m a big fan of the student podcast scene right now but especially in Edinburgh, I don’t see the diversity that we have in the city. A: Yeah. K: What are your hopes with it? Where do you see it going? I know the third season is upcoming but have you got any exciting things planned? What’s in the pipeline? A: Well! I guess it is kinda fitting that we are doing another season during this lockdown period; it’s funny because our last season was pushed on by the last lockdown. We are sort of hoping to expand out of just looking at specific areas of art and moving into wider movements which we think is quite relevant to what we have been seeing over the last couple of months. At its core though, no matter how many seasons we do it’ll always be us laughing over art, which I think is beautiful. M: We have to though don’t we, otherwise you’re always going to be inundated with stories of people of colour going through things. It’s always about the problem, whereas with us we’re showing that we actually can smile and have a giggle too. A: Yeah, definitely. K: Yes, completely. It’s funny you mentioned lockdown, I was going to ask about that actually. Has it made things harder? I know you aren’t living together so it’ll all be done digitally. How have you found that? M: We bought a microphone for Audacious Aunties which I own and Asyia, unfortunately, doesn’t have one. The way we work it then is that Asyia is on a phone-call with me and I record it through the microphone. It sounds very dodgy but so far the sound quality has been okay. It’s difficult but it has been a really fun challenge to try and navigate through. If anything really, not much has changed: we still have our chats pre-show and it’s still a very natural flowing conversation. Of course, there are bits when the Wifi goes a bit weird but thinking about it lockdown has forced us to think about the podcast more and think about what we want to do with it. A: Last time when we were restricted to recording in person because we were both at uni whenever we saw each other we would have to treat it like a business meeting and bulk record! We’d go delirious by the end of it! This though has opened up a whole new world of just being able to record when we are both able to and not record five at once. M: It’s hilarious, we listened over to bits of season one and there are points when someone is talking and it’s just so monotonous because we were so tired by that point. The other person was just kind of like ‘yeah, that’s great, yeah.’. K: I love it. That’s brilliant. With the future in mind, I don’t know what you’re thinking but I am hoping for seasons upon seasons upon seasons. Where do you see things going? I envisage so much change, I know it’s opened my eyes to a whole world of new things which now I love. What’s the dream? A: With Audacious Aunties, we want to get the listeners more involved and get more input and more voices. Up until this point, it’s very much me, Manvir and a Wikipedia page conquering the art world together. I’d love though to get guests in and incorporate more voices and just see where it goes from there. More generally though it would be nice to see change over the next couple of years or so. Right now, we’d find an artist or a poet and there would be very limited information on them; we really have to work with the one or two pages we can find or that one thesis someone wrote ten years ago. It would be nice to see active change and far more information out there that we can use and learn from. That’d be nice. M: I agree with everything you just said. I kinda have this hope that Audacious Aunties will someday take on the BBC? K: YES! I’d absolutely love that. M: It’s baby steps! Really though I just want it to grow. If we look at our audience at the moment it’s very heavily dominated by women, which is great, but I’d love to open things up to a wider audience. It’s great that we have the support of so many women and women of colour, but the white man is the one who needs to listen to it the most. Really, we just want to find a way to coerce them into coming over to our side. With the world though, as Asyia said it would be great to see more information that properly reflects the rest of the world and that generally, people are just more aware. Hopefully to the point where Audacious Aunties isn’t really even needed because people are already filled with so much information about the things we talk about. K: When you think about the fact you have only done a couple of seasons, the amount you have achieved already is incredible. I can only see you guys getting better. I know you were joking about it but I would love to see you guys on the BBC. M: We’ll put it in the plan. A: I don’t know how our chaotic energy will fit in with the BBC… K: It’d be fab. I guess finally, with the second lockdown looming up here in Scotland, I’d love your recommendations for stuff to listen to, read and watch. I’d love to discover some new things at the moment and I know there’s loads you chat about on the podcast but if you did have any recommendations what would they be? M: I can see Asyia rattling her head for just one recommendation already! Okay so barely five minutes before we started chatting I was reading this book; it’s partly for coursework but also for my own reading. It’s by the Nicaraguan writer Gioconda Belli and it’s called ‘El pais de las mujeres’ which means ‘the country of the women’. It’s about this world where women are in charge of everything and I think it’s going to be a really interesting take. It gives me Lord of the Flies kinda vibes but in a good way with women instead? We’ll see how it goes. I think in the 1980s there was a telenovela soap opera made about it as well, which I reckon especially in the 80s when feminist ideas were still evolving would be really cool. A: Recently I watched a series on BBC iPlayer called ‘The Art of Persia’ which was really really interesting; it takes you outside the Western perspective of classics as well as giving you the general history of Persia. I really enjoyed it, super interesting and good vibes. K: I’d love that. It pains me to say; I’m rubbish with world history. My sphere of history is very much Eastern Europe, I’ve dug deep into my Polish heritage, but I would love to know more. With what I want to do after uni, I want to celebrate and be able to tell people about the exciting things happening all over the place. A: That’s what I love about Audacious Aunties though; it can feel so scary and difficult to know where to start so I really believe in making things accessible. Hopefully, we can act as a good springboard for people to find things they didn’t know they would be so interested in. Interview conducted by Kirsty Thomson.

  • Defining Identity in a Digital Age

    Maddie Noton explores how identity is impacted by digital media in what we are shown by others on social media and how we choose to show ourselves. Biometrics by Ross McDonald (Instagram: @weelecht) Description: My work focuses on the relationships between the physical and digital world and the possibilities that a mixed reality might entail. We often entertain multiple digital personalities that are loosely based off of our physical identity depending on the website we are using, It's humorous since the internet democratised information and communication, we've become free to be whoever we might want to be. I've been exploring new artistic mediums such as oscilloscopes, machine learning, VR environment design and generative/algorithmic arts. Having been the subject of philosophical thought and debate over centuries, the notion of identity remains, ironically, unidentifiable by finite definition. Throughout our lives, our self-image fluctuates back and forth, owing to chronological changes, external influences and our psychological programming. The statement “describe yourself” - in a non-physical context - elicits varying responses from an individual throughout their life as our interests and beliefs shape and reshape with time. However, identity and self-image are becoming slowly more ambiguous alongside the rise of technological advances, which glorify falsely constructed versions of ourselves through an online medium. Although social media profiles reveal certain interests and characteristics of a person, they also obscure our objective reasoning and detract from reality, suggesting that numerical popularity defines a person’s worth. Media exposure is undoubtedly potent in its contribution to self-image, especially in an age where we routinely encounter more online faces than we do real ones. Although social media profiles reveal certain interests and characteristics of a person, they also obscure our objective reasoning and detract from reality, suggesting that numerical popularity defines a person’s worth. What forms an identity? We often exhibit our personality traits through an amalgamation of interests, reflections of aspects we admire and potential familiarities which induce a sense of comfort. However, what subconsciously draws us to associate with these interests and hobbies is said to stem from early psychological development. Incapable of independently forming opinions and judgements from birth, we are naturally inclined to echo those of our superiors: perhaps teachers, parents and role models, among others. Interestingly, although our range of ‘role models’ broaden with age, we still aim to replicate those we deem icons: no longer a parent, but perhaps a globally recognised figure or celebrity. Memories and experiences often contribute to our current likes and dislikes and fears. For example, a fear of spiders is likely to have surfaced due to seeing a parent or carer negatively react when in contact with them. In particular, arachnophobia is further perpetuated by cultural influence. Owing to its celebration of horror and the grotesque, Halloween maintains the notion of spiders as something to fear, irrespective of their physical, harmless behaviour. Culture and tradition are large contributing factors in ascertaining how we define ourselves. Growing up in a religious household may encourage the continuation of cultural festivities and determine rigid belief systems. Not dissimilar, being born into a musical or artistic family often predetermines later interests and hobbies, which may even evolve into careers and full-time occupations. Perhaps the reason for this is an established sense of familiarity, which we seek to replicate within our own lives. Familial comforts and routines provide us with a sense of psychological direction and stability, owing to our primal instincts to establish safety in foreign environments. This could include moving away from home or certainly, for many of us, the move to university. It hints towards logical reasoning for our subconscious actions and points to the importance of our past: we collate our former experiences and manifest them within our modern self-perceptions. We collate our former experiences and manifest them within our modern self-perceptions. Aside from characteristics and qualities, the definition of identity also seems dominated by physical representations, an argument supported by our increased attention on appearance and image. Although our physical appearance has always been a large factor in our identities, the movement to an online existence forces greater attention to detail on our digital profile. Alongside an overwhelming reliance on technology to stay up to date with current events and affairs, our instinctual need to remain heard has shaped our digital presentations, casting light on a culture that values individuals through physical representation. Face-to-face interactions and social meet-ups in the modern-day rarely occur without the presence of a phone or item of technology. Indeed, we cannot be separated from our digital identities for a prolonged period. Dating apps like Tinder have eliminated the need to socialise in the real world, as we are presented with the necessary information all through a screen. Suddenly, finding a romantic match no longer requires a process of copious amounts of meet and greets - we now sieve through potential partners with a simple swipe of the thumb. However, this technology poses as many disadvantages as it does benefits. Despite a growing sense of established control over our identities and the choice between which photos and images we wish to share, owing to its anonymity, users are granted the publication of mostly unmonitored opinions and judgments – not all encouraging or supportive. This leads to physical appearance and presentation being defined and categorised into standards of beauty according to public opinion, often with ostracising and demeaning effects. Already fragile self-perceptions turn inwards and eat away at our confidence, leading to a desire to change and conform to outsider opinion. Already fragile self-perceptions turn inwards and eat away at our confidence, leading to a desire to change and conform to outsider opinion. As we slowly transgress into a society which attempts to categorise us, I bring to light Oscar Wilde’s perhaps bleak discernment on our existence in respect to its both contemporary and modern significance on our understanding of identity “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.” (Oscar Wilde, De Profundis). He deconstructs the very roots of our identity down to simply reflections and fragments of others. In an ever-growing world of digital media instructing us on what to think, wear and eat our self-presentations are being emptied of individualistic qualities and conforming to more collective identities, those approved by social standards. Therefore, our online presence becomes not a digital reflection of ourselves, but, instead, manifestations of how we seek the approval of others. We are careful about what we post because the repercussions threaten our online reputations and detract from a socially acceptable profile, regardless of whether or not they reflect our true selves. Therefore, our online presence becomes not a digital reflection of ourselves, but, instead, manifestations of how we seek the approval of others. Although the establishment of ‘Mass Culture’ is no new phenomenon, its effects seem to be advancing as we stagger in individualism. Most notable writers, who vocalised their despise of this cultural movement include T.S Eliot. I draw attention to Eliot in an attempt to outline the universality of Mass Culture and convey its representation throughout generations of time. Through poetic means, Eliot is openly critical of how we submerge ourselves into a collective and bleed dry independent representation. However, this explicitly pejorative approach to collectivism may possibly be rationalised by a more united perspective. In as much as it removes unique characteristics, collective identity also seeks to strengthen our feeling of belonging. Through association and familiarity, we may bond and connect to others with similar interests and qualities. This likewise stretches as far to ethnicity and cultural similarities. For example, finding a person who shares an interest in something as simple as a film or book may ignite an attachment and permits us to deepen our relationship to that individual. Internet activity has likewise fuelled this via the creation of terms such as ‘trending’, ‘trend-setters’ and ‘influencers’, jargon that simultaneously affirms our association with a collective, yet also unites us as a group. Thus, alongside the removal of individualistic traits, we may take comfort from a growing sense of united identity. Internet activity has likewise fuelled this via the creation of terms such as ‘trending’, ‘trend-setters’ and ‘influencers’, jargon that simultaneously affirms our association with a collective, yet also unites us as a group. As a final point of interest, I would like to refocus attention to our own understanding of what makes an identity. In an age where digital media seems to occupy an increasing proportion of our lives, we often struggle to disassociate ourselves from our online representations, believing these profiles to be the pinnacle of our reputation. However, our identities seem not to be a fixed concept. As previously mentioned, the aspects which both physically and psychologically stabilise us, as well as external influences such as culture, are continually shifting and developing. These, overall, are unable to distinctly and finitely categorise us. In attempts to find comfort, we often seek to withdraw into our past and self-reflect on aspects of ourselves which have made us who we are today. Thus, constructed on both a physical and psychological representation, identity remains a subject of unidentifiable ambiguity. Thus, constructed on both a physical and psychological representation, identity remains a subject of unidentifiable ambiguity. Maddie Noton is a second year MA Italian and English Literature student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • Pink equals Girls and Blue equals Boys?

    Pranavi Hiremath examines the human evolutionary view of gender roles and identity, whether this is integral to our survival and if other species adopt such roles too. Above: 'Vacancy II', 11 3/4 x 16 1/2, 2019. The image is part of a series of collages produced through play with light and shadow on film. In this silhouette still, the composition is balanced with various found and cut paper media that bring colour into the black and white film still. In direct relation to the article, the deformation of the shadow against the wall may represent the culturally constructed gender norms and roles which come to deform our true self. Gender roles have been ingrained into our society for generations. We became slaves to this social construct from the time our parents took us to the toy store. The girls went to the pink aisle with barbies, dollhouses, kitchen sets while the boys went to the blue aisles with superheroes and cars. We also became supporters of these ideas by adhering to them and often rejecting anyone who didn't. Only recently have we been able to open our minds and recognise the flaws in this social construct of gender roles. It is important to state the differences between the often-confused terms sex and gender or gender role. Sex depends on biology to differentiate between males and females (e.g. sex organs), while gender or gender role is described as a socially constructed and accepted behaviour of a male or a female. Humans or homo-sapiens are animals too and we have well-defined gender roles in our species, and it has helped us develop our civilisation. So, does this mean it is a vital component necessary to survive? Does this imply all other animals on this planet also have such roles? Research shows that the answer would be not really. Gender roles are thought to be a product of culture. Culture in this context means the transfer of information from one generation to the next. A young boy and a girl aren’t brought up with the same values. A different set of values are taught to each sex. They are assigned a gender at an early age; boys are taught to earn for the family and not cry while the girls are taught to be caregivers and sensitive. This is also often why people associate higher positions like CEOs with men over women because women are thought to be emotionally-driven, while men are thought to be rational. This isn’t the case with animals, like killer whales, where females don’t learn special behaviours but all whales simply learn from each other, like strategies to kill prey. They don’t necessarily have a sex-specific cultural training that humans do. But unfortunately, it isn’t that straightforward. Sex and gender are intertwined together and it is an on-going debate whether gender roles are biologically determined or are a product of social construct. It becomes an even more complex study once the variations in sex and gender identity are included. Human females may be considered to have more nurturing attributes as a product of childbearing. The role of carrying and caring for an infant and the father providing resources are said to be the root and evolutionary consequences of the gender roles we see today. It is presumed that sex might have been just the simplest way responsibilities could have been divided (division of labour) because the females had to stay back and look after their offspring and couldn’t go hunt at the same time. Although it is important to note that the extent to which gender is determined by biology is unclear. Since, anthropologists have found from analysing skeletal remains that even women were hunters, gatherers and they fought in battles. From about 1700 through 1900 women also served as soldiers. It is also important to account for the variations and the spectrum of sexual identity. Gender roles and conformity to them get in the way of humans expressing their identity. In this study, it was shown that in an anti-homosexual society with rigid gender roles, a part of being a homosexual included believing that only heterosexual relationships are appropriate. Thus, it is important to include and understand that sometimes a person’s genetically assigned sex doesn’t line up with their identity: transgenders, non-binary or gender non-conforming. Our society today goes as far as to stereotype individuals based on their sex and almost force them to adhere to the “acceptable behaviours”. These ideas have led to discrimination, inequality and sexism. There might be both socially and biologically determined factors affecting the behaviour of females and males. Culture plays a significant role. Humans have many different cultures, and gender roles are not always the same in each culture. But each human does go through cultural training and are expected to behave in a certain manner. It is our responsibility to understand, respect each individual and their self-identity. Oppression for one means oppression for all. If women are forced into certain gender roles, men are thereby forced to fill the vacant space. Eradicating rigid gender roles and the associated inequality is vital as it prevents violence, promotes self expression and as a whole our community becomes safer and healthier. Gender equality is good for the economy as well, it is a step towards ending poverty and witnessing the full capacity of a country. Therefore, our society is capable of becoming more peaceful and successful once gender roles are eradicated. More on what you can do: 6 Everyday Ways to Bust Gender Stereotypes: https://www.girlscouts.org/en/raising-girls/leadership/life-skills/everyday-ways-to-bust-gender-stereotypes.html 10 ways to eliminate gender bias in the workplace: https://www.sagepeople.com/about-us/news-hub/eliminate-gender-diversity-workforce/ 12 steps to achieve gender equality in our lifetimes: https://www.theguardian.com/global-development-professionals-network/2016/mar/14/gender-equality-women-girls-rights-education-empowerment-politics Further Reading: Is gender identity unique to humans? https://www.discovermagazine.com/planet-earth/is-gender-identity-unique-to-humans Harm caused by gender stereotypes: https://www.ohchr.org/EN/Issues/Women/WRGS/Pages/WrongfulGenderStereotyping.aspx Evolved but Not Fixed: gender roles: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6664064/ Pranavi is a second year Astrophysics student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • A Summer of Injustice: Six Months On

    Lucien Staddon Foster provides an incredibly important reflection regarding the horrific racial traumas that Black people have had to face over the last six months since George Floyd's murder. It provides a strong reminder of what not to forget and what needs to be done to stand in solidarity with the BLM movement. As I write this, it has been exactly six months since Derek Chauvin, aided by Alexander Kueng, Thomas Lane and Tou Thao, knelt on George Floyd's neck for eight minutes and forty-six seconds. Ultimately, taking his life over a dispute regarding the validity of a $20 bill. In response, we saw public outcry on an extremely unprecedented scale, with protests occurring in over 60 countries across all continents, making this summer of protest one of the largest demonstrative movements in history. But where are we now? Like so many other important issues this year, the spotlight has slowly drifted away; spurred by our constantly wavering attention spans and active dismissal from mainstream media outlets. Justice never seemed to reach George Floyd’s killers, their trials don’t even start until March and conviction is always unlikely in these cases. Even Breonna Taylor’s murder was reduced to nothing but a debate topic, despite the public pressure from the huge numbers that came out to seek justice, both on the street and in petitions gathering over 11 million signatures. We saw her name become an empty phrase thrown around by those who really couldn't care less about what she, as a brilliant daughter, friend and employee, had taken away from her and the huge loss to her community. We saw her name become an empty phrase thrown around by those who really couldn't care less about what she, as a brilliant daughter, friend and employee, had taken away from her and the huge loss to her community. The solidarity displayed over the summer, with protests on the street and our feeds packed with pro-Black content and anti-racist infographics, has gradually drained from the mainstream, leaving me, and many other Black people, feeling arguably more alone in our struggles than ever. Whilst I have had increased success in talking to white peers about issues of race, something I never felt comfortable or able to before the summer’s heightened focus on racial inequalities. However, this local and circumstantial change is meaningless when the neighbour’s walls got more justice than Breonna Taylor herself (1). Most morbidly, the supposed engagement with racial justice from my white peers has appeared to all but vanish in some cases. I've sat by as the president-elect, Joe Biden, is paraded as a hero, a saviour of their normalcy, with little regard to the insult or damage he has caused to Black communities. We're told to shut our mouths and play along, as though our criticisms can only be a direct endorsement of Trump and his hateful presidency. We’re expected to celebrate a man who's challenged our Blackness (2), called Black men "predators" (3), caused the mass incarceration of thousands under his 1994 Crime Bill, and ultimately promised donors that "nothing will fundamentally change" between his presidency and Trump's (4). Given how listened to I felt in the summer amongst widespread anti-racist discussion, although outrageously performative at times (see Blackout Tuesday and the BLM tagging challenge), it's so incredibly disheartening to see this momentum stall while we continue to suffer and die ourselves. This year alone, there have only been 16 days where the police did not kill someone in the US, 237 (or 28%) of these victims have been Black, despite only accounting 13% of the population (5). But what action is actually coming from all the woke talk of the summer? We're told to shut our mouths and play along, as though our criticisms can only be a direct endorsement of Trump and his hateful presidency. When calling out these issues, I'm regularly told to stop being divisive and work towards bridging the gap in our polarized society, to practise compassion and healing with those who barely regard Black people as human, let alone believe in their struggles. How am I expected to find commonality with those who both morally and financially supported Kyle Rittenhouse? Who received brand deals and a publicly crowdsourced bail release following his triple-homicide at a protest. How out of touch must our leaders, and many of their followers, be to suggest that overcoming these differences is even possible? Even in the UK, opposition leader, Keir Starmer, has dismissed the Black Lives Matter movement, calling some of their aims “nonsense” and simply saying it’s dominated by “radical Marxist agenda” without actually addressing the problems behind the demands (6). On both sides of the Atlantic, it has become obvious that our leaders and those meant to hold them accountable continue to disregard Black struggle. How am I expected to find commonality with those who both morally and financially supported Kyle Rittenhouse? Who received brand deals and a publicly crowdsourced bail release following his triple-homicide at a protest. How out of touch must our leaders, and many of their followers, be to suggest that overcoming these differences is even possible? The injustices of the summer are not exclusive to diasporic Black populations either. Recently, we’ve seen just how widespread crises of police brutality and inequality are with the End-SARS movement concerning Nigerian injustices and the Lekki Massacre, on which the EDI magazine has already run a piece (7). All across the African continent, militarized police forces, often supported by our governments (8), harass, oppress and kill their citizens. However, public concern has appeared to fade again, as pleas for justice and an end to brutality become just another social media fad. It’s understandable that many only want to focus on issues widely regarded as close to home (such as US and European injustices), but for many of us, these issues are incredibly close to home and the decline in attention and discussion leaves us feeling demoralised and alone in our struggle. As Black students, many of us have had family and friends affected or displaced by this violence across the African continent; for me, it’s my mother, who has had to move cities in Nigeria due to the instability and lack of safety from police-protest clashes. Additionally, the university offers little support to those of us who are affected immensely by these issues; we're expected to work business-as-usual despite the stress, hurt and frustration brought about by injustice and violence against our people. However, the university’s student support and its shortcomings are part of a much wider issue that I won’t touch on any further in this article. Whilst there have been many further injustices and a decline in the momentum of protests over the last six months, perhaps I have been overly negative, as there have also been significant developments and achievements. Since May, many more people are aware of and educated on systemic inequalities and are actively trying to better themselves concerning their privileges. We've seen policymakers put under pressure to address these issues, and devise strategies to correct our path towards one of equality. We even saw the first Black female vice-president, Kamala Harris, elected in the US, although this has its own complexities that I won't get into now, either. Here in Edinburgh, we've seen the launch of BlackED, a group dedicated to providing for the unique needs of Black students and establish a better sense of community and anti-racist culture at the university. Their efforts even made the front page of The Times (9), with their campaign towards the renaming of the eugenicist-celebrating David Hume Tower (now 40 George Square) getting national coverage, and of course, a significant backlash from racists and the Conservative Party (Tomato or tomato?). Here in Edinburgh, we've seen the launch of BlackED, a group dedicated to providing for the unique needs of Black students and establish a better sense of community and anti-racist culture at the university. There's a long way to go before anything resembling equality can be reached, but following a summer of heated debate and protest, a large step has been taken and eyes all around the world have been opened. Even though public attention has drifted, the lessons learned from this summer are unlikely to be forgotten, and the legacy of George Floyd, and too many others, will continue to drive the movement for a better world. Keep listening, keep learning and speak out on injustices where you see them - we can't let our progress go to waste. Guide for further resources: Follow @blcked_movement on Instagram - they’re a great place for information and support surrounding some of the aforementioned issues. Read ‘Beyond Breonna: Louisville Police Make the Case for Abolition’ https://theintercept.com/2020/11/27/defund-police-louisville-breonna-taylor/ Watch ‘The Black Voters Who Could Swing Pennsylvania’ to better understand some of the criticism surrounding Biden: https://theintercept.com/2020/10/29/philadelphia-black-voters/ References: (1) - Brett Hankison, one of the officers involved with the illegal raid on Taylor's apartment, was charged with 'wanton endangerment'. This was the only charge to come out of her death. (2) - Biden: 'If you have a problem figuring out whether you're for me or Trump, then you ain't black' https://edition.cnn.com/2020/05/22/politics/biden-charlamagne-tha-god-you-aint-black/index.html (3) - Biden in 1993 speech pushing crime bill warned of 'predators on our streets' who were 'beyond the pale' https://edition.cnn.com/2019/03/07/politics/biden-1993-speech-predators/index.html (4) - Joe Biden to rich donors: "Nothing would fundamentally change" if he's elected https://www.salon.com/2019/06/19/joe-biden-to-rich-donors-nothing-would-fundamentally-change-if-hes-elected/ (5) - mappingpoliceviolence.org by Samuel Sinyangwe (6) - Black Lives Matter UK criticises Labour Leader Keir Starmer for dismissing calls to defund the police https://www.standard.co.uk/news/politics/keir-starmer-defund-police-black-lives-matter-backlash-a4483981.html (7) - #EndSARS: The Edinburgh Voices https://www.theedimagazine.com/post/endsars-the-edinburgh-voices (8) - End SARS protests: UK police trained 'brutal' Nigerian security forces https://www.independent.co.uk/news/end-sars-nigeria-protests-security-forces-uk-police-training-b1254970.html (9) - Edinburgh University ditches David Hume over slavery link https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/edinburgh-university-ditches-david-hume-over-slavery-link-kz9dl2p3v Lucien Staddon Foster is a Third Year Geography student at the University of Edinburgh

  • The Art of Teenage Tumblr

    Laura Baliman describes how revisiting her old Tumblr blog was a reminder to appreciate art, rather than overcomplicate it now as an Art History Masters student. The micro-blogging site Tumblr is quite a strange place, full of fandoms for everything you could imagine, but as a teenager, I spent a lot of time on the “artsy” side of it. Having rediscovered my old blog recently, I realised that the art of Tumblr is something worth exploring. It became apparent as I scrolled through my old posts that the site was not just a space for teenager’s doodles or rudimentary memes, but also a space in which fine art was shared – like this painting, November Wind by Eric Sloane: If presented with such artwork now, as an Art History Masters student, I would think immediately of texture, shadow and historical context – all of which are helpful categories, but at the time of sharing this work, I probably just thought it was cute. Similarly with this artwork, “While We Frame Our Happiness, Sadness Frames Us” by Mahmoud Al-Kurd, I’m sure I was just struck with awe: Looking at it now, I jump quickly to thinking about postmodernism, digitality and perspective, but in many ways, I wish I could go back to seeing it like I used to. I don’t remember ever thinking about art or theory or anything like that, because it wasn’t taught at school: we were still drawing our shoes with HB pencils back then. Our relationship with art is definitely complicated by academia; having finished my Literature BA, I’ve found it difficult to pick up books and only recently coaxed myself into reading a page or two of Milan Kundera. I no longer enjoy art in the simple way I used to. This doesn’t mean that academics aren’t valuable – I can appreciate art so much more now, and understand it with far more nuance and complexity. But I think this appreciation and understanding could be enhanced by childish and simplistic enjoyment. Enjoying, or simply liking a piece of art doesn’t advance your intellect or bring great career prospects, but it is pleasant, and that’s what Tumblr art offered to me at the time. However, I probably did realise that the above works were fine art and that someone older and more educated would have a lot to say about them. But this awareness was not present for most other posts on Tumblr, which I just thought were pretty pictures. I assumed that fine art was just inclusive of the traditional canon – an assumption that I now firmly reject. I thought that I couldn’t possibly understand art, because we often tell children and young adults that they “simply wouldn’t understand”, or that certain books shouldn’t be read because they would be too advanced. Although I definitely didn’t have the vocabulary to properly examine these artworks, I do think I still “got” it. For example, I did not realise that a series of three photographs of undulating velvet material by ‘foxydreamgirl’ (since deactivated) could even be classed as art. Still, the sheen of the fabric caught my eye, and I saw that the three strong primary colours were put beside one another but softened by the velvet texture. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to explain that effect, but I knew about it. It is unhealthy to tell young people that art is a certain kind of thing that sits on the walls of museums and in textbooks. I believe now that pretty social media posts are art – just of a different category (and perhaps an even more fun one). Sharing such “pretty pictures” still goes on via many platforms – Instagram recently being more popular, but I hope now that we can see such posts as artistically valid themselves. One issue with Tumblr art is that credit was not always given to the artists. The velvet trio was uncredited, and I can only assume that the photographs were taken by the original poster. This reveals itself as a widespread issue as I scroll down my old feed, which is full of uncredited photographs and artworks. At the time and as teenagers, I don’t think we were aware of the necessity to credit artists or to support them, because we didn’t know anything about the art economy. Tumblr was also a particularly complicated place to credit artists because, with each reblog, the captions and tags got lost. But nowadays I don’t think there is an excuse for not including the name of the artist, especially when such a system like tagging is available on Instagram. Revisiting my old social media stomping grounds has reminded me to sometimes look at art and just feel it. It has also reminded me to follow accounts and artists because I like and support them – and to not always write essays on them, so that I don’t completely lose that romantically naïve outlook that defined my formative years. Laura Baliman is an Art History Masters student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • A Bit of a Stretch: A Community Silenced by Modern Stigma.

    Reviewing Chris Atkins’ autobiography A Bit of a Stretch, Maddie Noton investigates the realities of prison life and the damaging effects that public opinion and stigma can have surrounding prisons. Inspired by the song Ocean of Tears By Caroline Polacheck, the artists fused their unique illustrative and digital styles into a collaborative work. The piece responds to the pain of a long term relationship reimagined in the current global context, as both artists created the work in isolation halfway across the globe from each other.The artwork resonates with the book "A Bit of a Stretch": the depicted chains which entangle the figure represent physical imprisonment itself along with the prisoner's ties and struggles with sexism, budget cuts, coming to terms with guilt, drug abuse and suicide attempts which sucks them into an ocean of anguish. Currently confined within the four walls of our own homes, it has become commonplace to comparatively view our own miserable predicament with that of a prison institution, especially alongside a rapid decline in mental health awareness. I had similarly found this a helpful analogy in communicating the entrapping repercussions of COVID-19. However, after reading about the trials and tribulations that prisoners routinely face in Chris Atkins’ autobiography A Bit of a Stretch, this seemingly fitting comparison has become somewhat inappropriate and it appears, to me, abundantly naive to attempt to identify with this idea. Comfortably encumbered on a coffee-shop armchair, drinking in both my cup of tea and the details of conventional brutality of prison life, I felt greatly unsettled as Atkins painted a picture of the structural fragility within this society: prisoners denied family visits because of guards forgetting to sign slips; suicidal inmates ignored and forgotten; officers either drunk with authority or subjected to harassment and abuse – particularly the female staff. Neglected by mainstream media coverage, these residents often fail to arouse our pity due to the unethical backdrop of their crimes, a concept nurtured by modern media that installs fear in us through the mere mention of punishment. However, it is important to give attention to prisons - the squashed and silenced aspect of society which we falsely believe has little impact on our own lives. Yet, as Atkins draws upon, the consequences of these corrupt institutions affect us as much as they do their residents. Upon being sentenced to five years at HMP Wandsworth in London on charges of fraud, Atkins uses his role as an inmate to expose the life of prison community, not from the perspective of an ambitious journalist composing a documentary, but as an actual subject: the prisoner, leading to the exposure of a deteriorating institution, held together by a weak thread of government bodies who would rather shun than rehabilitate convicts. Throughout this book, Atkins collates a mixture of personal anecdotes and secondary accounts from peers, all supported by facts and statistics which add to the credibility of his argument. His narrative of experience is interwoven with humorous middle class concerns and heavy waves of remorse, making himself a character easy to empathise with, especially as we (accompanying Atkins himself) enter a world which adheres to its own rules and customs and receives little to no media coverage from reliable sources. Submitting himself to naked vulnerability, he spares no details and fully admits to his crime, instead of expectantly wiggling his way out of accountability. By stripping himself of any cries of innocence and coming to terms with his guilt, our protagonist enters prison an equal, with no more moral superiority than that of his convicted neighbour. Much like a quivering foal learning to walk, Atkins stumbles along in his prison journey, eventually scaling his way up the institutional hierarchy. It would appear that much of his success, however, is accredited to overwhelming good fortune, rather than an abidance to inmate rules, which regularly rewards misdoings and punishes good behaviour. He also makes note of the privilege he receives in being both educated, white and middle-class which serves as harsh commentary on the backwards nature of this system, despite modern efforts to unpick archaic injustice. There is undoubtedly an overwhelming sense of racial, class and religious divide within prison life. Almost to the extent that our writer becomes increasingly numb to his cellmate’s explicitly derogatory comments, and it is frightening how simple the steps seem to be to becoming radicalised. Systematic sexism is also frequently drawn upon in this text. One cellmate of Atkins’ plasters his walls with atrocious images of naked women and pornography, even reluctant to allow a picture of Atkins’ son to minutely cover a fragment. This inherent sexism carries through in physical interactions too: the female officers are routinely subjected to sexual harassment, which they dismiss with shocking nonchalance. We would not be far wrong in describing prison as an entirely separate world, where moral standards are fractured by unchangeably, backwards mentalities. What I found as further shocking, however, was the passive acceptance of these thought processes. Rather than discouraging misogynistic mind sets like Atkins’ cellmate, this system allows room for this behaviour to continue and may provide reason to the 50% reoffenders statistic. Over the course of his writing, Atkins points to the bigger picture: budget cuts. Budget cuts which lead to understaffing, prisoner overflow and subsequent improper care and rehabilitation for inmates. After two and a half years in the system, our author has not readjusted his moral perspective on the charges for which he was convicted, but instead has seen the ever-growing fractures in the prison institution. His writing is often accompanied by statistical and factual backing, although much of his research notes a suspicious absence of prison published data, adding to an already unsettling array of institutional miscommunication. It appears to readers, as much as it does inmates, that these systems function on the authority of its residents, with the prisoners being assigned power by accumulation of jobs that help to operate the everyday prison life, and permit inmates as much time outside solitary confinement as possible. Atkins writes that these laborious jobs also provided workers with benefits such as access to the phone, showers and a flourishing reputation, which would come in handy when in need of a favour from higher powers. Although mentioned throughout, government influence and input remain unsurprisingly absent in our writer’s experience. Able to maintain a steady connection with the outside, he follows the political career of Elizabeth Truss – the former Secretary of State for Justice – who appears in physical form but once. Her singular visit and hasty retreat are a stark reflection of the dismissal of proper attention, which the prison systems crave. This is hardly a shocking revelation given modern society’s downcast view on prisoners and those in the system. It seems highly unlikely that we, as a nation, would choose to donate to rehabilitation programmes for convicted felons when there are other compelling charities which don’t associate with the notion of punishment and reform. It remains, however, a harsh comment on public judgment that we feel comfortable enough to sweep these issues under the carpet, believing that they have no impact on our own lives. In fact, if reformation programmes were properly developed, our rate of re-offenders might not skyrocket to the extent it currently does. Another saddening fact of this text dealt with the consistent and almost normalised repetition of drug abuse, alongside shockingly high suicide and mental health statistics. The two of which appear to go hand in hand. Atkins’ reoccurring mention of the drug, coined by the term ‘Spice’, appears to be more easily attainable inside than it does out, making drug rehabilitation an almost impossible feat. Beginning in his career as a ‘Listener’ – inmates who sit with and attempt to comfort peers in psychological distress – Atkins divulges into the dark and tormenting encounters that he was forced to deal with on a regular basis. Owing to a lacking number of mental health professionals, the gruelling effects of deteriorating psychological stability is thrusted on inmates who take on these jobs. Atkins details horrifically violent incidents as well as unsettling conversations and makes reference to several cases where suicide and self-harm are ignored, overlooked or simply written-off as bad behaviour. Atkins’ coping mechanism manifests itself in humour and communication with peers. However, readers may struggle to share the joke, especially as we consider the impacts of COVID-19 on these men. Indeed, 23 hours confined within a cell hardly helps anyone’s psyche. As a reader, I was undoubtedly shocked and unsettled by the messages within this book, as it implored its readers to perhaps simply acknowledge the struggles of those outside of regular society and shunned by all areas of authority, which have the ability to help. However, Atkins’ words were not properly brought home until a startling conversation with a close friend of mine tore down the usual walls between reader and writer. She rejected all notions of sympathy for prisoners, claiming that their sufferings within these institutions served as acute recompense for the crimes which landed them there. Despite my attempts to humanise her argument, she adamantly refused to pity the victims of this finitely damaging system of improper care. Indeed, we are all entitled to our own opinions, irrespective of how much they challenge our own. However, the realisation of this general passive acceptance of injustice within prison walls was not properly highlighted until this moment. It made me realise the systematic and cyclical nature of the damaging effects of public stigma surrounding prisons; damage that will cease to change unless our own attitudes do. This book is certainly clever in its unmitigated description of life from inside. Chris Atkins actually ends his work by didactically noting that we should all spend some time in prison. He claims that his experience was revolutionary and educational, proving that documentaries from an outside perspective do very little to expose the corruption of these systems from within. Indeed, it would be easy to subscribe to the cliche mentality of “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time”, yet this overly simplistic and naïve approach to criminality comes from an incredibly privileged attitude. Inmates like Chris Atkins are an anomaly within the system, and he reminds his readers of his good fortune, having financial stability as well as a healthy support network of friends and family on the outside. This is rarely the case for repeat-offenders and it is important to challenge our own perspectives and our own upbringings before we judge others for their actions which delivered them to the prison institution. Maddie Noton is a second year MA Italian and English Literature student at the University of Edinburgh.

  • Invisible Eating Disorders

    T.W. this article discusses eating disorders Lauren Deveney provides an open experience of her eating disorder, OSFED, and how a Doctor at the University of Edinburgh was unaware as to what this actually was. This is a call to action for raising awareness around, and getting rid, of the stigmatisation attached to eating disorders. Description: Under the scrutiny of the modern world and how we look at ourselves not truly for who we are but as we feel others look at us. We objectify ourselves and become detached from the self. Earlier this year I was diagnosed with an eating disorder called OSFED, which stands for Other Specified Feeding or Eating Disorder. After suffering from the illness for over half of my life, I was relieved to have finally been given a name for what I was experiencing. For me, this made the illness a physical, tangible thing which was easier to comprehend and manage. OSFED, previously EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified), began as a category of eating disorders which did not necessarily fit the specifications of the better known illnesses such as anorexia or bulimia. Therefore, there has been little research on this category of eating disorder, with many sufferers being diagnosed with OSFED simply because there is no other clear diagnosis available. Due to this lack of refinement, it took almost ten years of having a seriously bad relationship with food for me to be officially diagnosed. I was not diagnosed until I saw a counsellor at University, who I spoke to about my restrictive and obsessive habits when it came to food. Despite being given this generalised diagnosis, I was not aware of the stigmatisation and ignorance I would later encounter on my journey to recovery. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder, with approximately 1.25 million people in the UK suffering from disordered eating (Source: BEAT). Despite the statistics revealing that it is not exactly an uncommon illness, I encountered a surprising stigma in society and insufficient knowledge from medical professionals. Granted, OSFED is not exactly a ‘well known’ eating disorder, such as anorexia or bulimia, but it is one of the most common. It is a tricky illness, characterised by all the same symptoms of anorexia, bulimia, binge eating disorder and restrictive intake disorder, but for some reason the sufferer’s BMI remains steady. Therefore, as there are often no apparent physical signs of weight loss, I found people struggled to take my diagnosis seriously. Recently, I spoke to a doctor from my University who asked me if I had anorexia or bulimia. I explained I had neither but experienced aspects of both, and that I had been diagnosed with OSFED. From his response, it was clear to me then that he actually had no idea what OSFED was. I was in disbelief. How could this doctor not be aware of the illness that has taken over my entire life? An illness that has caused me to do irreparable damage to my body and my mental health over so many years. I was so overwhelmed with so many emotions from anger to complete hopelessness. Illnesses such as OSFED and BED (Binge Eating Disorder) account for almost half of all eating disorders. With anorexia making up 10%, and bulimia making up 40%. It strikes me then, as to why OSFED is not as widely recognised or taken as seriously as other eating disorders? Is it the long standing issue of medicine overlooking mental illnesses in favour of physical ones? Indeed, it was only when I had lost almost a stone in weight that I was officially diagnosed by my doctor noticing a physical problem in my body. After considering this question, I came to the conclusion that there really was no good enough answer or ‘excuse’ for not recognising this deadly illness, whether the signs are physically noticeable or not; especially as a medical professional at a University where the majority of students are young adults, and so fall under the ‘at risk’ category for developing eating disorders. I argue then, that this is not an individual problem, but an institutional one. The only way forward to combat, what I will call DESI (Disordered Eating Stigma and Ignorance), is education. Starting at the root of the problem, medical professionals need to be better equipped to deal with patients suffering from disordered eating. In addition to this, we need to normalise this illness in society and the media, starting by having difficult conversations about DESI with family and friends before turning to the wider picture. I know personally I have encountered friends and loved ones who have not understood the full extent of DESI until I have sat down with them and spoken about my personal experiences and my overwhelming feelings of shame in relation to food and my body image. Charities, such as Beat, work fervently to provide critical support through helplines and online chat rooms for sufferers who are in desperate need, as well as raise money for life saving research. Recently, there has been an increase in media attention and coverage in regards to eating disorders. Many mainstream celebrities have revealed their struggles with body image and disordered eating, such as actor Sophie Turner who recently opened up about her battle with body dysmorphia. It has come to my attention too, that many celebrities are wanting to openly speak out about their experience with disordered eating. Sportsman and television personality Freddie Flintoff, along with actor Christopher Eccleston, have both recently released raw and heart wrenching documentaries in which they open up about their experience with disordered eating. One thing which was synonymous with both documentaries, was the fact that they were each working towards battling the ingrained stigma of eating disorders in contemporary society. The fact that they both identify as men is also significant, as previously men have been forgotten about in much of the discourse surrounding eating disorders. Whilst it is true that the majority of sufferers are women, men account for approximately 25% of eating disorder cases (Source: BEAT). However, throughout the COVID 19 pandemic, Beat has seen a staggering increase in demand for their services. Should one charity really have to carry this burden on their own with minimal assistance from the UK government? Perhaps then, we should look to the government to better equip the NHS with more specialist facilities for those with eating disorders. These facilities may include; more specialist medical centres in addition to the few present already, more trained professionals specialising in eating disorders, and inclusive access to these facilities for all. I received my referral to one of these specialist centres 10 months ago and I still have not been seen. This has forced my family to set aside hundreds of pounds for counselling, which a lot of people do not have access to and should not have to pay. Looking at the wider issue, does this ultimately come down to medicine’s continuous failure to support those suffering from all mental disorders? Historically, mental illness has been received by society with prejudice, judgement and ignorance. In a sense then, this failure from professionals, such as employers and the doctor I personally encountered, to recognise eating disorders as a serious mentally and physically debilitating illness, really is not that surprising. Therefore, we need to initiate discussions surrounding eating disorders and DESI in order to slowly break down the barriers of stigmatisation and peel away the layers of shame which shroud this illness. I would like to offer my ever enduring appreciation to those at my University which have offered their continued help and support, along with my friends and family. If you or someone you know is suffering from a potential eating disorder, here are some useful resources; Beat- https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/ Samaritans helpline- 116 123 Edinburgh Crisis Centre- 0808 801 0414 Sources- The Priory Group, https://www.beateatingdisorders.org.uk/ Lauren Deveney is a Third Year Ancient History student at Edinburgh University

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