e truth behind living o campus as a rst year

Francesca Corno Staff Writer

We enter university on the promise of nights out, laughter, and a freshers u that is ohso-worth-it. Living on campus is the beginning of adulthood, an opportunity to understand yourself, gain independence as you learn how to cook, and try not to lose all your cutlery in the rst week. You distance yourself from home (even texting on the family chat is minimised) and focus on your new life objectives: interacting with peers and discovering the joys of being young and carefree. But what of those who don’t distance themselves? ose who choose to remain at home? And is it even a choice? Does the possibility of a social, lively experience slowly fade from our university life?

e short answer, thankfully, is no.

On the contrary, most LSE students gushed about their o campus experience, its convenience and practicality, assuring me that they did not regret the choice they made — and would gladly make again. Yet what is the true o -campus experience?

e nancial bene t of staying at home prevails above all else as the main motivator. Many students from London have found themselves unable to justify the cost of living at university when they could simply travel to LSE. With the current economic crisis and maintenance loans failing to rise in line with in ation rates, living at home becomes the natural and obvious choice for many. is comes alongside a judgement of LSE accommodations, with Sveva Lugnani, a rst year History student, asserting that living at home was simply “better value for money when compared to living standards on campus.” e familiarity and security of one’s home is understandably preferred to a plain university accommodation, allowing for some comfort and a fridge full of food, as freshers start this new chapter in their lives.

Where money was a clear rea- son to live o campus, a more unexpected advantage also came to light: time management. A couple of students from di erent years and departments agree on the necessity of detaching their university selves from their home selves, creating an academic work/life balance. e process of travelling in and out of LSE facilitates the ability to relax and distance themselves from the stress of university work and central London. It also provides a great opportunity to learn time management as a student, a valuable skill later in life. A second year Geography student, who preferred to remain unnamed, re ected on her time spent on the Tube as she travelled into university, telling me that “the commute gives [her] the opportunity to read ction a er a long day of lectures”. is separation is easier felt when one does not live with other tired and stressed 18-year-olds, all panicking to complete their latest assignment. e ultimate worry preceding the decision to live o campus is socialising (or lack thereof). Students fear being at a social disadvantage as a result of not living halls, which can seem like the perfect space for mixing. Especially during freshers, where events tend to be closer to campus, those living at home are likely to feel somewhat isolated as they uctuate between the party environment and home. However, in the long term, most say the worries they experienced were unfounded. “I don’t think that living at home has had a negative e ect on me like I initially thought it would,” says Sabaa Pasha, a rst year Economics and ISPP student. e key to a good social life is being proactive, Pasha also asserts, to encourage outings in order to forge friendships. e living arrangement can be a social disadvantage, but only if you let it.

Although the myth of a diminished social life and fewer friends has been disbanded, this arrangement has clear caveats. Despite providing extra time to work and unwind, travelling can become an irksome issue on nights out, as I quickly found out as the year began. “When’s the last train?” I had to ask myself, “How am I getting home?” Where living o campus provides for comfort and serenity, accommodation creates a sense of community and companionship - everyone goes home together, so going out becomes easy and accessible. Living at home provides the ond- and third-year mentors turn their focus to work, the scheme becomes ine ective. Departmental events and societies can pick up the slack, as they provide plentiful opportu- opportunity to learn how to get organised, but at the expense of that last joke, or that last dinner. e fear of missing out can sometimes get to you.

And what of LSE’s O Campus Support Scheme, the system meant to aid students living at home? e programme matches rst years to a student mentor, with the purpose of facilitating and connecting students who do not live in halls. ough great in theory, students say its execution is lacking. All agree that emails are occasional and meetings between mentors and mentees are scarce: it can prove to be useful at rst, but as sec- nities to meet new people both within one’s eld of study and interests, as well as a chance to talk to new people.

Living o campus is a new experience as much as living in halls is, lled with opportunities, insecurities, and choices. Although the glori ed ideal of a late-night chat in the common room with friends is not viable, that does not make or break the university experience. On the contrary, when asked whether they regret their choice to live at home, the answer was unanimous: no.

Zofia Gimblett Staff Writer Picture courtesy of the LSESU

For the second year running, Consent Ed stands as both a triumph and proof of the obstacles that continue to stand in the way of building consent culture at LSE. Launched by the student-run Hands O campaign in September 2021, Consent Ed was created with the intention of opening up the conversation about sexual violence among students to combat the shamelled silence that o en discourages victims from seeking support.

With a focus on empowering students to become active bystanders in situations where sexual transgressions may occur, the program consists of an online course and an hour and a half in-person session where trained student facilitators teach the ins and outs of consent in the context of British law. Participants are presented with high-risk scenarios to test their knowledge of consent and are informed of the services available inside and outside of LSE for survivors of sexual violence. According to one workshop facilitator, David Jehlicka, “three years ago, we didn’t have workshops, so there is an improvement,” but, “it’s just not of residence in September and October 2022 were cancelled. A small number of cancellations were due to disruptions caused by Queen Elizabeth II’s funeral, but most were because no students signed up, David claims. Facilitators ran workshops even if just one student turned up, but the Consent Ed database records that 35 out of the 94 in-person sessions planned to take place on campus and in halls were cancelled. is is partly down to bad communication between halls and the SU. Some hall sta claimed to have been noti ed of sessions only an hour before they were meant to happen. Although, facilitators suggest that even in cases when halls were informed in advance, the promotion of Consent Ed within halls was not energetic enough to secure substantial student sign-ups.

In contrast to last year, the SU has made Consent Ed optional this year. e SU website states that halls residents are “expected to attend if they feel able to”.

On the one hand, by leaving students free to choose, the SU has resolved the issue of catering to individuals of di erent experiences, especially those who have already encountered sexual violence in their lives. is year’s program includes survivor-led workshops and the option to opt out altogeth- letic Union’s Carol is a striking example of leniency: a massive all-day drinking fest in the penultimate week of Michaelmas term, for which AU members are meant to complete Consent Ed. However, many students were allegedly allowed to attend with no Consent Ed training, though the reasons for these occurrences vary and remain speculative. good enough yet.”

Moreover, an anonymous source told e Beaver about residents in halls ‘QR-code sharing’ in the last academic year. One person would take an unauthorised photo of the QR code, which students are asked to scan at the end of sessions to mark their attendance and would let people outside the workshop scan it. is allowed innumerable others to add their names to the list of people who have completed Consent Ed without ever coming to a single session. Perhaps a return to old-fashioned pen and paper is the remedy.

Attendance this year has been low. According to David and Consent Ed facilitator Zoé Vanhersecke, the reasons lie between poor LSESU organisation and a lack of student engagement, even subversion. While the quality of Consent Ed workshops is higher this year thanks to mandatory twelvehour summer training for all facilitators, nearly half of sessions scheduled to take place in halls er. On the other hand, some facilitators argue the opt-out option is used merely as an excuse by many to get out of the workshops.

Students have also created loopholes to avoid participating in Consent Ed. Training remains nominally obligatory for students who want to become committee members of any SU clubs or societies, but numerous students con rm this is rarely enforced. e Ath-

A 2019 survey of 1,000 students in the UK revealed that only a quarter felt su ciently prepared by earlier sex education to understand sexual consent properly. In the wake of the ‘shadow pandemic’ of intensi ed domestic violence during Covid lockdowns, Rape Crisis Centres saw a rise in requests for counselling for victims of sexual violence in every month of 2021. Just a year a er the subsequent spiking epidemic of the winter of 2021, sexual violence remains a serious problem. Moreover, al- though 62% of students report experiencing sexual violence at university, four in ve cases go unreported. e disparity between the prevalence of sexual violence and the number of reported cases indicates dismal student condence in reporting systems and students’ frequent inability to admit when consent has been violated. Consent Ed solves the latter. It empowers students to recognise when sexual violence occurs, teaching us how to prevent it from happening as active bystanders. Although the former is yet to be xed, providing tools to reach out for help is crucial to improving student safety.

Consent Ed also challenges LSE’s lack of commitment to encouraging sexual violence reporting. LSE’s online ‘Report It, Stop It’ form is lengthy and, according to Zoé, “makes you want to give up.” Firstly, instead of creating a form speci cally for sexual harassment, like in other UK universities, the form at LSE addresses bullying, harassment and sexual violence as one category, like all other LSE online resources. Secondly, it is unclear if any action will be taken a er a student makes the report. e form seems to ask victims everything — their ethnicity, religion, and the circumstances of the incident — except the name of the perpetrator.

Zoé speculates that as soon as an individual is accused, disciplinary action must be taken, something the university does not want. Disturbingly, until this year, LSE encouraged victims to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements to prevent word of sexual harassment within the university from spreading. Only in October 2022 did LSE pledge to stop using them. e university leadership’s policy of sti ing conversation about sexual violence impedes proper feedback on the e ciency of the School’s response mechanisms. Consequently, this not only leads to a lack of con dence among students in reporting incidents when they happen but also perpetuates tolerance of sexual harassment and violence, so long as it does not cause a public scandal. When speaking with Zoé, her de ance shone through: “LSE buries reports. at’s why I’m doing Consent Ed.”

In the triangular relationship between LSE, the SU and students that build consent culture, we certainly will not be receiving encouragement from the university to talk openly about or report sexual violence. Increasing student agency through Consent Ed is, therefore, all the more signi cant, even in spite of this year’s lagging student enthusiasm. e hope for next year is recognition by students of the power of attendance.