Safety First: A Guide to Staying Safe During Freshers Week

As universities make their big return to campus, there are keen students all around the country preparing themselves for a freshers’ week to remember. Here are five top tips for staying safe during the week: 

1. Buddy up

The phrase strength in numbers couldn’t be more fitting for this first tip. You are most vulnerable when you are alone, so it is important to stay in groups when you are out and try not to let people wander off or go home alone. In a new city and unfamiliar surroundings, it can be really overwhelming for many people, so make sure you’re checking in with your friends or flatmates regularly to see how they’re doing. 

2. Keep your phone charged  

This second tip may seem obvious, but having a fully charged phone when you’re out and about in a new city is a must. Not only will it be able to capture those unforgettable memories, but it can be used to pay for things, communicate with friends, and order Ubers or taxis to help you get home safe. 

3. Be vigilant

One of the most important pieces of advice is to be vigilant when you are out. The majority of people that you will meet are usually there to simply have a good time, but unfortunately, there are some more sinister people out there who have a different take on having a ‘good time’. Spiking continues to be a huge issue at parties and in clubs, so it is important to keep alert to minimise the risk of it happening to you or your friends. You can do this by not accepting drinks from strangers and not leaving any drinks unattended. 

If you do end up in a position where you think yourself or a friend may have been spiked, tell a bar manager or security guard, get to a safe place and if the condition deteriorates, call an ambulance. 

More information and advice on spiking can be found: https://www.drinkaware.co.uk/advice/staying-safe-while-drinking/drink-spiking-and-date-rape-drugs

4. Don’t overshare 

During the week, you will come across a whole host of new people and fresh faces who are all looking to make lots of new friends. When making conversations, it can be easy to overshare personal information very quickly such as where you’re staying, where you come from and your social media platforms, leaving you more vulnerable. With social media being a huge part of people’s lives, it is common to instantly want to add every single person you meet on these platforms, but this isn’t always the wisest thing to do as your social platforms can give off more information than you think. So, hold fire with those friend requests and wait to see who really turn out to be your close friends.

5. Look after yourself 

The final piece of advice for staying safe during freshers’ week is to look after yourself. It can be easy to see the week as the time to go wild, and many people do! But, it is really important to know your limits. The freedom of being a fresher means that it can be easy to feel pressured to do everything and go out every night, but don’t be afraid of saying ‘no’ if you don’t want to. At the end of the day, looking after yourself should be your top priority and you shouldn’t have to give in to the pressure of doing it all in the first week. 

Ultimately, freshers week is a time to really let loose and enjoy the freedom of being away from home. Take the advice as you wish, but by keeping these safety considerations in mind, you are guaranteed to have a great time and to make some unforgettable memories. 

Kae Tempest is unmatched in their performance at Leeds Stylus

I knew Kae Tempest was a big name, but I didn’t expect their show to have such an impact on me. Their new album ‘The Line Is A Curve’ dropped just last month: a moving, searing record that I wish I had listened to before the show, but am so glad to have found now. Tempest is a distinguished poet, having won the Ted Hughes award and supported the likes of Benjamin Jephaniah and John Cooper Clarke. Their music is the kind to have listeners hanging on every word, dissecting and revisiting each lyric, making for a night of spoken word at its best. 

Shungudzo, Zimbabwean gymnast, TV personality and politically voiced artist, is a support act with enough energy to fill a stadium. Dressed in a long pink ruffled dress, Shungudzo leaves her macbook propped on the side of the stage, while she jumps and skips across the stage of Stylus like a child on a sunny day. She exudates a beautiful energy, her no bullshit statement lyrics received with glee from the Stylus audience; rather than hiding behind metaphors, Shungudzo says exactly what she means. Our generation is the one to make change, she voices near the end of her set: and in her demeanour is bold resilience as well as sunshiny positivity. Tempest’s and Shungudzo’s musical styles may be different, but they have in common a political fury. 

Kae enters the stage, and after yells of awe and appreciation have died down, they address us before they begin playing. ‘The Line Is A Curve’ will be played in its entirety, they tell us, and there will be no breaks between any of the tracks. A buzz fills the room; the anticipation of such an immersive album experience is palpable. ‘Speaking between songs cringes me out’, they joke, but there’s something so thrilling about this prospect: immediately the separation between audience and artist feels smaller, somehow, like we’re about to go through something not just standing in front of them, but with them.

Sound engineer for their tour, Hinako Omori accompanies Kae on synths, the sound waves rolling underneath Tempest’s cutting words. Like so many hip-hop artists, Tempest tows the line between rap and poetry. Something feels different about them, though. Their lyricism takes precedent over the fairly sparse production of their tracks, but they pull from the wide scope of sound: the featured artists on ‘The Line Is A Curve’ include Lianne La Havas, Kevin Abstract and Grian Chatten, to name a few, which together stretch out from the genre of hip-hop and bring known but surprising voices to each track. Tempest’s spoken delivery also sets them apart, of course, and their attention to detail is evident: there something that is needed to be said in their lyrics. 

And it’s their lyricism that is the main gift of the night, masterfully painting images with their words. In ‘Salt Coast’ we’re pulled into a tempestuous landscape: “soaked coast, foul wind, old ghosts, scrap tin”. Standing in pulsing golden light, the image of a twisted tree behind them, they personify nature – “the browning of your leaves” – and politicise it too – “the tyranny and hate of Britannia rules the waves”. Track ‘Smoking’ follows soon after, a commemoration to their past self. Having come out as non-binary in 2020, Tempest’s nods to their past female identity, “that girl from the past that laid the foundation stones”. They repeat, “there can’t be healing until it’s all broken, watch me break”. It feels like a celebration and separation, like a coming apart of something that once existed but no longer does. Kae’s recognition of her former identity feels like this throughout the new album, never taking over the tracks completely, but colouring them. 

It’s ‘Grace’, the album’s closing track, that brings me to tears. Ending ‘The Line Is A Curve’ section of the gig, Tempest’s voice rings clear over a simple guitar melody: “there are things I have to say about the fullness and the blaze of this beautiful life.” In all its unassuming nature, the track is breath-taking.

Kae Tempest’s set at Stylus was unlike any gig I’ve been to before. Performing their 2019 track ‘People’s Faces’ at the end of their set, they gesture to us, the audience: ‘My sanity’s saved, ‘Cause I can see your faces’. And every face is beaming up at them. You might already be a fan of poetry, or you might think spoken word is pretentious and underwhelming. I urge you to stick on a track of theirs, or better yet, buy a ticket to a show, and experience for yourself their brilliance.

“C’est le common sense”: Student Protests Take to the Streets of Montreal, Canada

In Canada, students face many of the same problems as they do in the UK: rising tuition fees, high rents, the threat of climate change, and a growing commodification of education. These problems are recognisable and close to home for many Leeds students, but do students in Canada respond as we do? 

I’ve been studying in Montreal this year and just at a time when our lecturers in the UK have been striking about their pay and conditions, I was surprised to learn that my lectures were cancelled for a week, because students across many universities in the province of Quebec had declared their own strike. It’s estimated that 80,000 students have been on strike across Quebec, and thousands took to the streets of Montreal this week, in protest against tuition fees that have skyrocketed in the past few years. 

This week, ten years after the height of the months-long ‘Maple Spring’ student protests of 2012, students held a protest for free education on the 22nd of March at the Place du Canada in Montreal. I went along to find out more – to see what Canada’s students think about the problems they’re facing, and what we can learn for our own student politics. The students I spoke to had varied opinions on the protest and what it could achieve, but all of them were unified in coming out to fight for change.

The goal of the protest was to fight for free tuition, and this was a critical issue for the students I spoke to was the cost of living. Many of them said that the repayment of student loans after graduation really threatened their future livelihoods and ability to feel secure in their degrees. Several protesters discussed the burden of having to begin life with an enormous loan to pay off.

These concerns were especially worrying for those who were studying Arts and Humanities subjects. In a move which has echoes of the UK government’s latest attacks on so-called ‘Mickey Mouse degrees’, the provincial governments, which are responsible for education in Canada, were said to underfund Arts and Humanities degrees – while simultaneously charging what were seen as extortionate rates for tuition. One student commented that “Being in literature, it’s not necessarily what’s most valued. It’s kind of seen as something that people do for fun, but it’s not really important. So that makes me wonder about my future – you know, is it viable economically?” 

Another familiar theme for us in England was the difficulty of managing work alongside studies, when money is tight and rents are high. Several students talked about how hard it is, commenting that your quality of life and your studies both severely suffer. I spoke to one student who was working a full-time job alongside their studies in order to be able to afford their rent. They said that “in many ways, my studies suffer because of that, because I can’t spend as much time concentrating on the things that I really do want to concentrate on: making good papers, or actually learning about the world around me.” The high costs of being a student in Canada means that for many, the work that it takes to pay for the privilege of being a student counteracts many of the benefits that you might hope to gain from being one. Another student, who argued that universal free education was a human right and had struggled with their own financial security, described it as: “the right not only to survive as a student, but to have the right to live – not just to eat ramen because we’re too poor”.

Across the board, protestors out in the street saw the cost of university fees as a massive obstacle to equality of opportunity. Many said it was their primary reason for protesting that day. They saw that the high price of education stopped many people from accessing it, creating an enormous loss of potential, and fuelling growing crises in our health and social care systems due to lack of doctors, nurses and social workers. If education is understood as an unequivocal right, then high fees deny that to people and threaten our way to societal improvement. Indeed, one protester strongly stated that “education is the only universal solution to all individual problems.”

The insecurities that had prompted these students to take to the are fundamentally the same in the UK and in Canada. Our governments make similar claims and policies, and we face many of the same problems. Fees in Canada vary, but according to Statistics Canada, the average for a home student is $6693 Canadian dollars – just over £4000. It might seem like a bargain to us, but it’s risen nearly 2% in just the last year, and with higher interest rates and tighter repayment requirements, the pressure is on. So what can we do? For me, the scale and organisation of this strike and protest by students really drove home the question of why we don’t organise effective protest against the problems we face as students. Where are our strikes? Where are our thousands in the streets?

The protests and student organisation I’ve witnessed in Canada have highlighted the need for us as students to step up to defend our right to education and challenge the government policies that threaten the security of our future lives. We hear people constantly complaining, “Nine grand for this?”, and sharing horror stories of housing, high rents and terrible landlords. The protests this week in Quebec have shown that the power is in our hands to do something about it. Many of the student protesters I spoke to made reference to the ‘Maple Spring’ of 2012, when students went on strike for six months against a proposed increase in fees. The plans were finally dropped after a quarter of a million came out in protest. It’s no coincidence that ten years later, facing the same problems yet again, Canadian students are calling for a return to what worked.

As our current UK government threatens yet again to undermine funding for our universities, it’s time to stand up for our education in a way that they can’t ignore. Here in Quebec, I have seen the value of taking more concrete action. The problems that Canadian students face are much the same, and maybe the solutions are too. One protestor summed it up, describing how the Canadian student movement had taken inspiration from similar movements across the globe. “Bonjour UK!” he said, “Pour moi c’est le common sense que ça se rend partout.” [For me, it’s common sense that this (protest) goes everywhere].

Teetotalism: An impossible feat in Leeds?

Every year, nearly 1 in 5 adults commit to giving up alcohol for the entire month of January. There seems every reason for me to join these people; I’m fed up of hearing about my drunken escapades, my bank account is barren and it’s about time I stopped drunk texting my ex. That’s not to mention the several bouts of tonsillitis I’ve suffered which has not been helped by the lethal mix of antibiotics and wine. Dry January offers a mental and physical detox and for many people, a much-needed break after an indulgent Christmas. 

Dry January was started in 2013 with the aim to help people reduce their alcohol intake and to inspire healthier relationships with alcohol. Just a month away from the bottle positively impacts blood sugar levels, one’s liver and many report improvements in concentration and sleep. So, why is it that my Dry January lasted only 13 days? I followed all the advice that I found online and found myself miserable. The first part of Dry January is to have a ‘why?’ Why do you want to reduce your alcohol intake? To quote Lucy Spraggan, “I am fed up with beer fear’. I am sick of hangxiety and my ability to act like I’m not hungover in every seminar is wearing thin. I want to wake up safe in the knowledge that I haven’t phoned someone 10 times or posted 12 strange photos to my Instagram story. 

The first thirteen days started off quite well and I hardly missed alcohol being at home. It was easy to refuse a glass of wine in the comfort of my home in London. I was quite happy drinking green tea and whilst Sunday dinners weren’t the same without a glass of wine, Robinson’s Squash was a welcome alternative…kind of. I actually did more work than I’d ever done, my brain wasn’t a fog of vodka lemonade and I genuinely think my liver was healthier than ever.

But, of course, fruit squash does not stand up to the test against the Uni culture that we live in. RPP Tuesday’s would not be the same without a pint and I missed late night trips to Sainsburys in search of another bottle of wine to keep the night going. The entire university experience rendered sobriety fairly tricky. Imagine not being able to scoff a kebab at the end of the night. Imagine trying to flirt without the embrace of Dutch courage. Nobody wants to party with the boring, sober girl (although, arguably my drunk self is not much better). I will not lie, I lasted about 3 hours on a night out before I caved in and joined my friends in their boozy antics.

I thought I’d be disappointed in myself that I couldn’t last more than 13 days without alcohol. I felt instantly like maybe I had a worrying relationship with alcohol and that it was some kind of sign from above to stop seeking solace in the bottle. However, it was none of these things. I have a great relationship with alcohol; the ability to stop whenever I’ve had too much and to stay in control (most of the time). I realised to stop drinking in all the places that I have often associated alcohol with is a big ask, especially in a university environment. It’s not necessarily a temptation, but more of a habit and the desire to join in with friends. I don’t think enjoying being drunk should instantly constitute an unhealthy relationship with alcohol.

Of course, it goes without saying that if you do have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol that Dry January is not the answer. And on reflection, Dry January only set me up for failure. In a month full of exam deadlines, bad weather and failed New Years’ Resolutions, I really don’t need another failure.

On the whole, teetotalism seems nice in theory, but if anything it only made me more miserable. I think for most university students, going cold turkey for a month is unrealistic and actually more problematic than beneficial. Feel free to prove me wrong if you have had 31 days of uninterrupted, blissful sobriety.

I did, however, enjoy reducing my alcohol intake. I’ve realised I don’t need a drink at Terrace after every library session and I don’t need to have a whole bottle of wine on every night out.

Hooda: New social networking app, lands in Leeds

Hooda have introduced a new mobile app that is sure to revolutionise the student experience. The initial release is exclusive to both the University of Leeds and Leeds Beckett students, and is available now for free download on the App Store and Google Play.