Honi Soit: Week 12, Semester 2, 2024

Acknowledgement of Country

Honi Soit is produced, published and distributed on the stolen land of the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. Sovereignty was never ceded. For over 235 years, First Nations peoples in so-called ‘Australia’ have continued to suffer under the destructive effects of invasion, genocide, and colonisation. As editors of this paper, we acknowledge that we are each living, writing, and working on stolen Gadigal, Wangal and Bidjigal land, and are beneficiaries of ongoing colonial dispossession.

We acknowledge that the University of Sydney is an inherently colonial institution which is not only physically built on stolen land, but also ideologically upholds a devaluing of Indigenous systems of knowledge and systematically excludes First Nations peoples. We recognise our complicity in such systems. We strive to remain conscious of, and actively resist and unlearn, colonial ideologies and biases, both our own and those perpetuated by the University and other institutions like it.

As a student newspaper, we pledge to stand in solidarity with both First Nations movements and all Indigenous struggles toward decolonisation worldwide, endeavouring to platform Indigenous voices. Honi is committed to countering the exclusion, censoring, and silencing of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander perspectives in mainstream media.

Always was, and always will be Aboriginal land.

Editors

Huw Bradshaw

Valerie Chidiac

Aidan Elwig Pollock

Victoria Gillespie

Ariana Haghighi

Sandra Kallarakkal

Zeina Khochaiche

Simone Maddison

Angus McGregor

Amelia Raines

Contributors

Jacobina Elordina

Sidra Ghanawi

Lachlan Griffiths

Gemma Hudson

Grace Mitchell

Imogen Sabey

Shreya Sahdev

Vince Tafea

Jamey Wang

Kate Zhang

Shayla Zreika

Artists

Persia Dell’Aquila

Deepika Jain

Dana Kafina

Laudy Kareh

Deepika Jain

Crossword

Editorial

I am sitting in the exact same park that you see on the cover before you, and writing this editorial. I grew up walking or riding my scooter down the street, carrying a bag filled with my usually deflated basketball and pump, some snacks and sunscreen. Ever since I moved away from this particular childhood home, I have yet to return to the park as frequently.

Having chosen the (loose) theme of “Take Me Home” weeks in advance, I was not expecting this week to hit as hard as it did. Not only was I feeling the pressure of this being Flirt for Honi’s final ordinary edition but a friend in hibernation reappeared: imposter syndrome. This was followed by some emotional turmoil that will remain untold.

A few weeks ago, I listened to three Palestinian authors recount their struggles to write during the last year, including journalling. Their words resonate now more than ever as I find it daunting to write anything about my own home, Lebanon. Because I see myself struggling for a while, I will let May Ziadé explain what I cannot: “Goodbye, Lebanese mountains. I’m going far from your pink rose garlands, your bright red satin strawberries. Egypt called in a serious voice, and already my boat’s rocking bears new fruit — But sea, whisper your lullabies please, because I hurt so much. Soft waves of home, sob for me. Don’t go away so quickly, my love.”

This week, I have had to rummage for time for writing and editing between my volunteer shifts at SXSW Sydney. SXSW was the only thing that motivated me to wake up and get out of bed (sorry to everything and everyone else). It was a temporary refuge I could go to, a place where the outside world could be put on hold. To each volunteer, team member, and festival attendee I interacted with, thank you for helping me remember that human connection is the most enriching medicine of them all.

In this edition, you’ll read Shreya Sahdev’s analysis of Israel’s contributions to climate change (pg. 8), Vince Tafea echoing the voices of psychology students demanding the abolishment of mandatory in-person lecture attendance requirements (pg. 11), Shayla Zreika’s lived experience as a second-generation migrant (pg. 15) and how Jamey Wang navigates small talk as an international student (pg. 18). For some much needed levity and escapism, join Jacobina Elordina in their final rendezvous with Jacob Elordi (pg.17).

Emergency rally at UTS Wollongong encampment closure 4

Stujo friends over at Macquarie Poet laureate: yes or no

about domestic violence

Back Cover

Zeina Khochaiche

To everyone who has followed our team as we produced Honi, thank you for giving us your time. To my reporter group, thank you for pitching again and again, and for drafting and redrafting based on my long-winded “suggestions”. To everyone who helped produce Honi, it’s time to take care of yourself now and open some windows. To my co-editors, thank you for indulging in my vision for the back cover and providing images of what home is to you. As for the incoming team, I hope you make Honi your own, and a home that students visit each week.

Sitting at the park, I have lost track of time. I will never finish this editorial if I don’t take a step back and protect my writing from my overthinking.

Goodbye (for now) because it’s time to walk back home. Wherever that is.

ISSN: 2207-5593. This edition was published on Wednesday 23 October 2024. Disclaimer: Honi Soit is published by the Students’ Representative Council, University of Sydney, Level 1 Wentworth Building, City Road, University of Sydney NSW 2006. The SRC’s operation costs, space and administrative support are financed by the University of Sydney. Honi Soit is printed under the auspices of the SRC’s Directors of Student Publications (DSP): Dustin Dao, Jasmine Donnelly, Lia Perkins, Tiger Perkins, Victor Zhang, Lucinda Zheng. All expressions are published on the basis that they are not to be regarded as the opinions of the SRC unless specifically stated. The Council accepts no responsibility for the accuracy of any of the opinions or information contained within this newspaper, nor does it endorse any of the advertisements and insertions.

Cover Art

Valerie Chidiac

Victoria Gillespie

Valerie Chidiac News

Cartoon caption contest

Wednesday 23

What’s on?

National Day of Action for Palestine: students and staff walk off campus and march to UTS, 1pm

A feathery undercover shopper was spotted casually strolling the aisles comparing prices on bread crumbs.

-Magnus Grocer

Winner’s caption Winner’s reward

A pigeon with cunning and flair Was spotted while shopping with care. Comparing each crumb, He’d squawk and then hum, “These prices? Too high! It’s unfair!”

Artwork: Laudy Kareh

In Memoriam

In memory of Kade Fenwick, who was a diversity and equality consultant within the University’s Diversity and Inclusion Team, working extensively with the Queer Network and Disability Services.

BDS and the University virtual forum: Sami Hermez in conversation with Jordy Silverstein, 7pm. Visit APAN to register for free.

Thursday 24

ACAR x GardeningSoc “Sowing the Seeds of Resistance” Workshop @ USyd Community Garden, 3pm

Friday 25

National Day of Action for Palestine: ‘No Universities Left in Gaza’ webinar on scholasticide, institutional complicity and the case for academic boycott, 4:30pm. Visit BDS Youth to register for free.

Saturday 27 October

Palestine Action Group protest @ Hyde Park, 1pm

Thursday 31 October

Disrupt NSW Weapons Summit @ Swissotel, 68 Market St, 8:30am

Wednesday 18 November

Sydney Peace Prize Lecture honouring the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement @ Town Hall, 6:30pm

Honi Soit ’s statement on Israel’s continuing attacks on Gaza and Lebanon

After several high-profile assassinations of Hamas and Hezbollah political and military leaders, it is clear that Israel will not stop its attacks against the Palestinian and Lebanese people.

In particular, the situation in northern Gaza is at its most dangerous. Last week, Israel razed Jabalia camp to the ground, burning Shaaban Al-Daou and his family members alive. Israel besieged the Indonesian Hospital, destroying the generator, which left patients in the intensive unit to die. Israel then forcibly detained Palestinians sheltering nearby, forcing them to strip their clothes, then tying them up and blindfolding them. These incidents occur over and over, yet every massacre feels like the first.

Israel continues to strike Beirut; Israel continues to strike Lebanon’s north, northeast and south. It struck a car alleged to carry a Hezbollah member on one of the busiest highways in Jounieh, north of Beirut. It has decimated entire villages in the south, including Yaroun and Mhaibib, the latter being the site of a 2000-year-old shrine dedicated to the Prophet Benjamin.

With the winter season fast approaching, major concerns are being flagged regarding the difficult conditions that over 1 million displaced people will face. There is ongoing uncertainty over whether sectarian tensions and geopolitics are being provoked in order for a civil war to occur.

Throughout the last year, Honi Soit has written statements condemning Israel’s actions, marking key dates and demanding a ceasefire, an end to the occupation, and a free Palestine from the river to the sea. While these statements are unable to bring about tangible change, their inclusion is important so that current and future readers of Honi Soit remember the atrocities committed in the genocide against Palestinians and the war in Lebanon.

Long live Palestine and long live Lebanon.

Cartoon: Airlie Cullen

‘The Dollhouse’

Artwork: Deepika Jain

Last student encampment in Australia forced to shut down at Wollongong

Kate Simpson

On September 24, the Gaza solidarity encampment at the University of Wollongong (UOW) was sent an official direction to shut down and pack up their encampment from an ‘authorised person’ acting on behalf of the University administration.

The direction gave members of the encampment until September 26 at 5pm to leave with all their belongings.

Not complying with the direction may result in students suffering disciplinary penalties.

UOW argued that the encampment was in breach of UOW’s recently updated ‘Campus Access and Order Rules’ policy. The policy was amended recently to explicitly prohibit camping on University grounds.

The updated policy imitates the University of Sydney’s Campus Access Policy, which was heavily condemned and protested by students and staff. UOW students were not made aware of the policy until it was emailed to members of the encampment.

The direction to remove the encampment follows an overwhelming vote in favour of disclosure and divestment at a Student General Meeting held at UOW on September 4, and after months of Pro-Palestinian activism on campus.

The UOW encampment was established on June 12 this year. It was erected by students to protest the ties between UOW and Israel. UOW is a founding member of the Defence Materials Technology Centre (DMTC) — a national collaborative research

centre in partnership with defence industry and research providers which is supported by the Department of Defence.

UOW has research collaborations with Bisalloy Steel. Israel was Bisalloy Steel’s largest export partner in 2017, and in 2018 it announced a $900,000 defence contract with Israel-based Rafael Advanced Defense Systems.

UOW also has connections to weapons manufacturers Lockheed Martin, BAE Systems, and Thales.

UOW has not committed to disclosure or divestment from these ties to defence companies and Israel.

The Human Rights Law Centre, NSW Council for Civil Liberties, and the Australian Democracy Network all wrote to Vice Chancellor John Dewar to support the existence of the encampment.

In a statement to Honi Soit, a UOW spokesperson said that “UOW upholds the principles of academic freedom and free speech, encourages open expression, free and respectful debate, and respects the right to peaceful protest.”

“The University has kept open lines of respectful communication with protestors, impacted student groups, and other relevant stakeholders.”

Members of the encampment have told Honi that they are firmly committed to sustaining their movement until demands are met. They are currently running a petition that demands disclosure and divestment.

UTS threatens disciplinary action for flyering about Palestine

On October 16, students at the University of Technology Sydney (UTS) were threatened with academic disciplinary action for handing out ‘Students for Palestine’ leaflets on campus.

The leaflets were promoting a forum taking place on Thursday 24 October. The forum was organised by the UTS Students for Palestine club, aiming to raise awareness of the information found through a Government Information Public Access (GIPA) request into UTS connections to corporations that manufacture weapons, military hardware and military software.

Head of Campus Security, Shaun O’Mara, informed students that these instructions were proposed directly from UTS Vice-Chancellor, Andrew Parfitt. Parfitt deemed the leaflets as a threat to student safety, due to the use of the word ‘genocide’.

This is following the recent incident at Western Sydney University

Multiple students report harassment, non-consensual filming by “Lifestyle Coach”, Minje Kim

Huw Bradshaw and Zeina Khochaiche

Multiple women have come forward to report harassment and nonconsensual filming on the University of Sydney Camperdown campus by an individual known as Minje Kim.

Kim runs a highly popular ‘personal coaching’ service via instagram, where he claims to “Guide Men to build social confidence” and provides instructional videos on how to approach women.

In many of his videos, Kim approaches women on the University of Sydney campus while recording the interaction on a pair of Rayban Meta Smart Glasses, which come with a discreet in-built camera.

Many women have claimed that content posted to Kim’s instagram page of 384,000 followers was both recorded and uploaded without their consent. In the past week, a Reddit post in r/usyd warning students about Kim was circulated around student communities and social media, prompting multiple women to come forward with victim statements against Kim.

Statements provided to Honi allege Kim did not tell students about the nature of their interaction, in which he often requested phone numbers or social media contacts. One student reported they were told by Kim that he was not recording them, only to later find their conversation shared online.

“When I asked if he was recording, he lied and said no”, the student stated. “We talked briefly, and he asked for my phone number, but he didn’t mention that his glasses could record video. Later, I found out he had posted our conversation on Instagram, where it got over 3,000 likes.”

One victim told us that they attempted to bring the alleged harassment to the attention of NSW Police, stating “I reported this to the police, but they said filming in public is legal.”

cases, the personal social media pages of individuals depicted — to comment on womens’ physical appearances. Comments on Kim’s videos make statements such as “women have it so easy”, “ask what is your body count” or express disapproval when women in the videos state they are in a relationship.

Along with these allegations of non consensual filming, one student stated that Kim “asked if I was Chinese because of my clothing style, which made me really uncomfortable.”

Another student, who was also secretly recorded, stated that after the video was uploaded to social media, they faced online harassment, “Many derogatory comments attacking my appearance and making anti-Chinese remarks have appeared, causing me significant mental distress.”

One student reported an instance where Kim “started making me uncomfortable with small actions, like deliberately getting closer, putting his hand on the back of my chair, and even trying to hold my hand multiple times.” The student also stated that upon her leaving the situation, Kim asked where she lived and if he could come to her apartment.

This student recounted ongoing harassment from Kim after the initial in-person interaction, stating that “Later, he sent me a few photos showing off his muscles, but I didn’t reply”.

The majority of the women who have come forward against Kim are international students. Victim statements indicate that Kim’s behaviour has been taking place for over a year, with the earliest known instance dating back to September of 2023.

where two students were arrested at a pro-Palestine protest.

“The university is weaponizing ‘student safety’ to wage a dangerous assault on freedom of speech.”

One of the Forum Organisers and postgraduate student, Lily Campbell, says,

“After a year of genocide in Gaza, Israel’s war on the middle east is only growing more deadly. Just yesterday, at least fifty people were killed in Israeli attacks on Northern Gaza. Students have a long history of standing up for justice. We have to defend our right to speak out and organise against the complicity of Australian institutions in these horrific crimes.”

On October 17, UTS management have removed the ban and permitted the flyers to be handed out, with the conditions that the word ‘genocide’ is taken out or censored.

The forum on Thursday 24 October is still going ahead at 1pm at UTS Building 10, Level 3, Room 480.

While in New South Wales, the Surveillance Devices Act (2007) prohibits the recording of a private conversation, the definition of private conversation under this act does not include conversation to which it can be reasonably expected might be overheard.

Due to the majority of Kim’s video’s being filmed in public spaces on the University campus, pursuit of legal action may be difficult for individuals recorded without consent. If the content, however, was being filmed for commercial purposes, consent likely needs to be obtained.

In this incident, students claim they were not made aware that their conversations were being recorded until they were published and distributed on Kim’s social media.

As with many popular maleoriented lifestyle coaches, Kim’s viewership seems to largely come from young men, who often take to the video’s comment section — or in some

It is unknown at the time whether Kim is a student at the University of Sydney. Victims state that Kim has claimed to be both a student of pharmacy and engineering at the University, though his actual student status remains unclear to Honi.

Following the backlash of the Reddit post, Kim has taken down the videos of the students on campus in the last few days, but videos of Kim approaching women in other public settings around campus — such as Victoria Park and Broadway — remain.

When contacted for comment, Kim denied the existence of the videos, stating, “There is no uni videos bro”.

When asked for comment, a University Spokesperson stated that, “We’re committed to creating a safe environment for our students and staff and are deeply concerned by these reports. We’re taking steps to investigate and protect our community, and have reported the matter to the relevant authorities.”

The SRC Women’s Officers were contacted for comment but did not reply.

Ellie Robertson

Emergency rally held at Town Hall after Al-Aqsa Hospital massacre

Sandra Kallarakkal and Valerie Chidiac

On Tuesday October 15, Palestine Action Group held an emergency rally outside Town Hall following the Al-Aqsa Hospital massacre, where Palestinians were burnt alive in their tents.

There was a notably large police presence, with police lined up past the steps of Town Hall leading to the rally.

Patriotic music preceded the rally, which began with chants, led by co-chair Amal Naser, such as “From Lebanon to Palestine, resistance is not a crime” and “Albanese you can’t hide, we charge you with genocide”.

Naser began by speaking to the horrific images and footage from the Al-Aqsa Hospital massacre, highlighting that this massacre “wasn’t the first, and won’t be the last”, as “this is the horror…and terror of the Zionist regime.” She then highlighted Israel’s advancement into, and bombing of, Lebanon, noting that Israel was attempting to cause “sectarian division in Lebanon [in an] attempt to incite a civil war”.

Co-chair of the rally Josh Lees noted the increased presence of NSW police at all Palestine protests, stating that “authorities…[are] trying harder to clamp down on Palestine activism”. He also spoke to the increasing policing of university campuses, commenting on the arrests of activists at Western Sydney University in the past week.

Ahmad Abadla, a Palestinian activist from the Palestine Justice Movement, connected the struggle for Palestinian liberation to the struggle for First Nations justice here in socalled Australia. He commented on the negative message of the word “radical” by authorities as “opposed to our normal way of life”, and noted that the “road to justice and liberation is getting harder and more brutal”.

Calling on the rally participants to “decolonise [their] mind,” Abadla ended by asserting that “there can never be peace without justice… there can never be justice…without liberation and there can never be liberation without the eradication of Zionism.”

Raneem Emad, a Palestinian from Gaza and law student, elaborated on her ongoing experience of feeling speechless: “I don’t know what to say today, I didn’t know what to say yesterday when we saw tents on fire… children burning”.

Emad followed this by reassuring the crowd that “it is hard not to feel overwhelmed” especially as this was not the first time that tents were set alight, referring to a massacre in Rafah in May of this year.

She then reiterated that these protests are not “useless” and that “condolences” by politicians and the government have never saved lives. Emad stated that “in that fire in Deir El Balah, we saw international law

burn to the ground again” and that it was the international community’s silence that “poured the gasoline on my people and Israel set it alight.”

“At the bare minimum they do not deserve to be burnt alive… and [deserve to] bury their loved ones as whole bodies,” she said.

Lees then spoke about how talks of ceasefire discourse is a “sham” given that the US is providing the “green light” to Israel and is also “sending US troops to the region… to protect Israel”.

Rula Khanafani, Palestinian activist, began by saying that this “live holocaust” is “beyond what the nervous system is able to comprehend.”

Khanafani spoke to the resilience of the people of the Jabalia camp who chose to stay “when roads were open to the south…knowing that they will be dying in the most horrific ways.” She also said that they moved their tents to the hospital courtyard “thinking they’ll be safe” but instead “the world is telling us that it’s time for Palestinians to wither away”.

Kunafani noted that any talk of an Israeli Left is a “myth, except for a few voices here and there” before stating that “there is no peace with Zionism”. She concluded by sending a message to Israel that “no amount of bombs will kill a nation that seeks liberation”.

Naser led chants including “Gaza will free us all, Zionism will fall” and “1, 2, 3, 4, open the prison doors, 5, 6, 7, 8 Gaza we will liberate” before handing over to final speaker and activist Damian Ridgewall.

Ridgewall began by addressing the images from the fire at Al-Aqsa Hospital saying that he is “constantly horrified by a world that allows these acts of terrorism” and continues to fund and arm Israel.

“Israel is a terrorist state, we have been chanting it every week… we are not saying this to try and heighten Israel’s crimes,” he continued.

Ridgewall argued that “if you had any doubt, the actions of these last 24 hours prove it” and reminded attendees that the state of Israel was “born out of acts of terrorism against the Palestinian people”.

Turning his attention to the war in Lebanon, Ridgewall condemned the US President Joe Biden’s commitment to further support of Israel if it “struggles in [its] war on Lebanon”. He demanded that governments take action to hold Israel to account, stating that they remain “part of a system that profits from these injustices”.

Lees concluded by saying that the Palestine solidarity movement will remain “steadfast.. defiant…and hopeful” before urging everyone to attend the weekly Sunday protests.

The rally ended with a march on the footpath and around the block.

OLEs to be made pass/fail as simple extension changes are stalled

Khanh Tran

A key proposal to reduce simple extension from five down to two days is still being considered by the University after intense discussion between the Academic Standards and Policy Committee (ASPC) and the Students’ Representative Council (SRC). The proposal is part of what the University labels its postCOVID-19 strategy, claiming that the measures are necessary to reflect the post-pandemic teaching landscape.

Current SRC President Harrison Brennan told Honi Soit that he is “disappointed” that the proposal has resurfaced once again despite a petition that garnered 900 signatures last year opposing the measures.

“Simple extension has been providing significant relief to students suffering with COVID-19 and with the ongoing rental and cost of living crisis. Right now, students are working more than they are studying due to a brutal rental market and unforgiving cost of living crisis,” Brennan said.

“Five days simple extension must remain if the university has any care for the wellbeing of students and any care for its performance in the Student Experience Survey (SES) where USyd is one of the lowest for student support and satisfaction.”

The proposal will next be discussed at the ASPC meeting on the 28th after the ASPC was told on the 8th that no vote would be held.

Another significant proposal involves sweeping changes to the University’s assessment structure, with the University arguing for adopting a “two lane” approach. The two lanes are labelled as “secure” and “unsecure/ open” assessments.

For secure assignments, course coordinators may prohibit the use

of generative artificial intelligence (AI) whereas, for unsecure or open assessments, the use of generative AI is supported and scaffolded.

The University expects a transition period of approximately two years until 2027 when the institution is expected to fully adopt the two-lane approach.

Another significant proposal is grading all Open Learning Units (OLE), regardless of their credit value, on a pass/fail basis due to concerns over the units effectively acting as de facto grade boosters.

According to an analysis conducted by Professor Hayley Fisher, OLE units are yielding disproportionate benefits for students, with the average weighted average mark (WAM) for all OLE units being 82.5. This is markedly higher compared to an average WAM of 69.4 across all other units.

Faculties seeing the highest return are Engineering and Science, with the former achieving a whopping 91.3 when OLE units are considered whereas this figure drops to a mere 66.2 when these units are excluded.

In contrast, Business students experienced a reduction in their average mark when OLEs are factored. Honi understands that the Business School is among the few that opposed the proposal at the ASPC meeting.

Unlike the other proposals, this is embraced by SRC President Harrison Brennan whose support is grounded on his preference that OLE units will become redundant in the future.

However, due to stalemate and mixed opinions between faculties over implications on six credit OLE units, with some pressing for applying pass/fail only on two credit units, the proposal will be further amended by the University before being presented to the Academic Board in the near future.

Protestors gather around Town Hall surrounded by a heavy police presence

From Gaza to COP29

The hidden carbon cost of genocide and the climate crisis

Shreya Sahdev analyses

One year of conflict. Over 41,800 lives lost. 281,000 metric tonnes of carbon dioxide emitted within the first 60 days. The war and genocide in Gaza is not just a humanitarian disaster: it is a climate catastrophe.

Since October 7, 2023, Israel’s attack on Gaza has displaced thousands of Palestinians, leaving them without essential resources such as food, water, and shelter. While the humanitarian impact is severe, the environmental consequences are equally alarming. This crisis not only highlights the intersection of human rights and climate issues but also contributes significantly to global carbon emissions.

CARBON EMISSIONS OF WAR

Bombs, rockets, artillery, and supply chains involved in warfare have generated more emissions in a few months than the annual totals of 20 nations combined, according to a preliminary study published by the Social Science Research Network. The environmental damage extends beyond temporary spikes in emissions, its long-term impact on the planet is profound and potentially irreversible.

Decades of military occupation and conflict have degraded Gaza’s resources. The blockade and recurring violence have rendered 9095% of the water undrinkable, and deforestation for buffer zones has worsened environmental degradation. Rebuilding Gaza could release 60 million tonnes of carbon dioxide.

Gaza, located in the Mediterranean Basin, is a climate-vulnerable region that faces rising temperatures. The area has already experienced a 1.5°C temperature increase, and projections suggest that by the end of the century, temperatures could rise by as much as 4°C.

Millions are left without aid; 100,000 tons of solid waste has overflowed across the city and diseases such as skin conditions, Hepatitis B and diarrhea are spreading rampantly.

However, one of the most concerning yet overlooked environmental factors has been Israel’s use of white phosphorus bombs.

The use of white phosphorus bombs — prohibited in dense, populated areas under international law — has further compounded the environmental crisis. White phosphorus contaminates soil and water, decimating ecosystems and posing severe health risks, including lethal internal burns.

THE SECRET EMISSIONS OF WAR

Military activities contribute approximately 5.5% of global greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions, yet these emissions remain unaccounted for in international climate negotiations. A report by Scientists for Global Responsibility and the Conflict and Environment Observatory highlights how military emissions, including those of Israel, are excluded from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) protocols.

This lack of transparency makes it difficult to hold nations accountable for the environmental impact of their armed forces.

A significant portion of Israel’s military operations relies on U.S. support. American cargo planes delivering military aid have emitted 133,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide — more than the annual emissions of Grenada. By early December, 200 American flights had transported 10,000 tonnes of military equipment to Israel, burning 50 million liters of aviation fuel in the process.

Since the war began, the U.S. has provided Israel with $17.9 billion in military aid, according to Brown University’s Costs of War project. However, this aid, which fuels ongoing genocide, also contributes to environmental destruction and worsens the climate crisis.

COP29 AND MILITARY ACCOUNTABILITY

Conference of the Parties (COP) is an annual convention where members of the United Nations gather and discuss climate change and design a plan under the guidelines of the UNFCCC. Representatives for members, industry representatives and lobbyists attend to participate in global negotiations e.g. net-zero emissions.

The climate agenda was overshadowed by conflict at COP28 in Dubai, where discussions on war, security, and the climate crisis yielded little progress. Military emissions remained off the table, despite the growing acknowledgment of their environmental impact. Israel has used its participation in COP events to promote “green” initiatives while continuing to exploit Palestinian land and resources: a strategy critics label as greenwashing.

COP29, set to take place in Azerbaijan from November 11, 2024, will again raise the issue of fossil fuels and renewable energy. A key topic will

be financing climate adaptation for developing countries, but there is still no consensus on how to secure the trillions of dollars required to match these efforts.

Azerbaijan, which aims to position itself as a peacemaker at the summit, plans to call for a global truce. However, its credibility is in question due to its poor human rights record and recent military action in Nagorno-Karabakh, which displaced over 100,000 people.

THE CALL FOR SOLUTIONS

A ceasefire in Gaza is essential to curbing further humanitarian and environmental damage. Although the U.S. has not formally called for a ceasefire, it has warned Israel that continued restrictions on humanitarian aid could result in cuts to American military funding within 30 days.

Here’s the catch — the specifics of these conditions remain unclear. It is uncertain what level of humanitarian access the U.S. considers sufficient or how it would enforce funding cuts if its demands are not met. In addition, the warning to Israel was sent the same week the U.S. chose to send Israel one of its most advanced air defense systems to fight against missile attacks from Iran.

Countries like The Netherlands, Spain, Canada, Belgium, and Italy have decided to suspend all arms sales and military support to Israel, however, the military emissions from ongoing attacks in Lebanon and Iran, and Russia’s war on Ukraine is further pushing us away from reaching the goal to limit global warming to 1.5°C under the Paris Agreement.

The devastating effects mirror those of Hurricane Milton, with sea levels continuing to rise, the Gulf of Mexico experiencing record-breaking temperatures, and recent earthquakes in rural Australia underscoring how the war in Gaza will leave a lasting impact on future generations.

Military operations generate enormous emissions, and the environmental destruction caused by conflict worsens climate change. Without greater transparency and accountability for military emissions at global forums like COP, the world risks ignoring the hidden carbon cost of war. As nations gather for COP29, addressing the intersection of conflict and climate change must become a priority.

Humanitarian organisations like The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) need our support to provide relief for Palestinians, with Amnesty International and Greenpeace UK calling for an arms embargo that aligns with national and international law to hold Israel accountable for the actions and be required to reparate recovery in Gaza.

Locals push for para-rowing initiative

Amelia Raines investigates.

Members of the Community Rowing Club’s para-rowing program currently have to descend down a rocky, steep pathway to access their boatshed in Lane Cove. Previously held at Balmain Rowing Club until it closed for renovations, this shift in location has meant that many previous members are now unable to participate.

The shift in location has incentivised a years-long campaign for a new community boatshed at Iron Cove, allowing disabled rowers to access this sport together with athletes from diverse backgrounds. The campaign, which has received support from the Local Aboriginal Land Council, describes the proposal as follows:

“The entire build is constructed over water, with the exception of the walkway that links it to land. The design facilitates effortless movement throughout the proposed structure for all — whether ambulant, or person who relies on a wheelchair, those with a visual impairment, those diagnosed with cerebral palsy and those with any other disability.”

When invited to join to see the current club by co-founder Barbara Ramjan, I was met with an immensely warm sense of community. Promptly after, Barbara essentially chucked me into a boat as a coxswain for the first time. The sense of community in the club extends onto the water. The boat of eight rowers showed me so much support and encouragement through my clueless coxing and overzealous steering, resulting in only one (tiny) collision with a buoy.

The boatshed project aims to service the wider community, as well as to facilitate 20 para-rowers vying for selection for the Paralympics, fostering the development of a para 8 crew, and to facilitate an Indigenous 8 crew competing in the NSW State Championships.

Inner West Council, pursuant to the Disability Inclusion Act 2014 (NSW), have a Disability Inclusion Action Plan 2023-2026, which sets out various targets for the council to implement within the community.

Some of these targets include:

• Article 9: Identifying and removing barriers and obstacles so that persons with disabilities can access their environments, transport, facilities, services, information and communication technologies

• Article 19: Creating environments, services and programs that enable persons with disabilities to be included in the community and to live independently

• Articles 29 and 30: Ensuring persons with disabilities can participate in the political, civic, cultural and recreational life of the community

• Point 1.5 under the Social Inclusion subsection of the Action Plan states as an actionable:

“Increased participation of people in health, wellness, recreation programs and waterbased recreation,” with point 1.8 reading: “Build capacity with local sporting and recreation groups to attract participants with disability.”

I interviewed Zarni Tun, who has been part of the program since 2014.

“We’ve been left behind for so long, that it’s hard, it’s hard to understand unless you really want to dig into and learn about how to help people with disabilities,” he said, with the lack of authentic and substantive inclusion prominent in “a lot of the systems that we’ve built now.”

“You can either see a person with a disability in a car crash ad, or in the Paralympics. Both of which are extreme ends, right? And my thing is, like, whenever you put something on a pedestal, you kind of detract everybody’s attention from what it actually is about.”

When asked about the importance of avenues for inclusive sport, he noted that “with sport, I don’t, I don’t do it for any competitiveness anymore. I just do it for myself and just to be part of the community. And so I can engage in the community.”

“I’m trying to get back into this community, because I feel like it’s the only disability outlet that I have. Like all my other outlets are the creative scene, or at work where everybody’s like 40, 50 years plus. Like I’m the same age as their kids, you know what I mean?”

He spoke to how the push for the club has been a lengthy process:

“We’re working on the development of the new club, and I’ve seen it back and forth, and it’s a bit of a, it’s crazy, but a development like that shouldn’t take that long, and it’s only now that we’re getting started.”

“It’s been a back and forth with almost everybody. People, they say, oh,

we’re welcoming and stuff like that. The people in management or like, I don’t know, people in power just see it as a burden rather than an opportunity.”

“Like, if only they invested a little bit more into their diversity kind of funds, like. It’s messed up that I even have to use the word diversity funds, like. It’s just like, it’s the only way people understand it.”

He spoke to the club’s current location, emphasising that “the fact that we have a really, a temporary club that is not that accessible,” means “we can’t bring in as many people that we want.”

When speaking about their previous location at Balmain rowing club, Zarni said “We had people in wheelchairs come through, even though there was like a flight of stairs set up… you had to walk down the flight of stairs to get to the pontoon, and you couldn’t renovate it because it’s heritage and old.”

“Looking back at it now, they did renovations, because we had been asking them to build a ramp and what not… they finally built accessible bathrooms. And asked somebody from the para-rowing club to cut the ribbon for it. I didn’t think about it at the time. But I was like, damn. I should have never said yes to that.”

Zarni spoke to the further wellbeing benefits the club would promote: “If we could have a fully accessible gym, that would be great, like, it’s a community space, like, we don’t have to feel uncomfortable in our bodies when we go to the gym.”

Student Representatives’ Council Disabilities Officer Khanh Tran said:

“We are disappointed and concerned about the state of the Tambourine Bay rowing club” pertaining to the current steep decline which renders the sport inaccessible for some participants.

“The club is a great grassroots community space for disabled rowers,” they said, “and we urge the Council to take action,” endorsing the building of the Iron Cove club to ensure that rowers can enjoy a space which is both “accessible and acceptable.”

As it stands, the next hurdle for the local campaign will be approval from the Sydney Eastern Planning Panel. The endorsements and support for the project are vast, with letters of support including statements from Paralympics Australia, Rowing Australia, Metropolitan Local Aboriginal Land Council, and Vision Australia.

At the 2024 Paris Paralympics, the Australian para-rowing team took home Australia’s first gold medal for the sport. This comes 16 years after the sport was first introduced into the paralympic program.

Rowing clubs on the Bay Run currently service many able-bodied rowers: Leichhardt rowing club, Haberfield rowers, and Drummoyne Rowing Club. The members behind Community Rowing Club have been advocating for greater access to the sport for both para-rowers and non-para rowers regardless of their background for over 15 years. It is incumbent on the council and our community to ensure that the space, and the sport, can be accessed by everyone.

The NSW History Syllabus has recently undergone its biggest overhaul in over a decade. Much of the content from the 2012, and currently taught, iteration has carried over into the new syllabus. However, the reform has resulted in fairly large structural and pedagogical changes, as well as additional mandated content

interpreting and presenting specific versions of the past, the teaching of history has direct implications on the development of a nation, and thus is subject to much political scrutiny as this allows for control of the master narrative of a national history. To imagine who we are, and want to be, we have to first imagine who we were. Decades-long ‘history wars’ over what histories, and whose histories, should be taught in schools reached an apex during the Keating and Howard years.

Debates over teaching settler colonial frontier violence resulted in former Prime Minister John Howard’s popularisation of the term

process of picking and choosing the content to be taught does have ideological implications, despite the claims that the Syllabus develops skills. There will always be absence. For example, while it is important and necessary to teach the impacts of colonisation on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and communities, and develop understanding of their continued resistance, there is a lack of content around pre-colonial Indigenous histories and cultures. Similarly, most of the studies of Asia are framed around experiences of colonisation and imperialism, framing that what is important to know about the histories

What does history education teach?

and studies regarding civics and democracy. Pushing for the teaching of history skills and concepts, in order for students to emulate the work of professional historians, the move toward higher content prescription and skills-based learning is based on the NSW Education Standards Authority’s (NESA) aim to ensure syllabuses “are steeped in evidence, not ideology.” But why does all this matter?

History education has long been a site of ideological contestation for the political elite in Australia. With its potential to mobilise collective memory through selecting,

‘Black Armband’, referring to a view of Australian history that seemingly overemphasised the mistreatment and disenfranchisement of First Nations peoples at the expense of developing national pride in students. The establishment of the Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA) — the body which now develops national curriculum — in 2008 has been studied as a settlement of this debate, with each new version of the national history curriculum pushing the focus on increasing students’ historical awareness while also developing students’ disciplinary competencies. The matter of how the national curriculum is implemented in each state, however, is up to the regulatory curriculum authorities in each.

Debates around the teaching of history in schools reignite every few years, manifesting in public outrage as to what is taught, and not taught, especially within spheres of world and national histories. The new NSW History Syllabus has mandated several areas of study, from studies of Asia to First Nations experience of colonisation to the Holocaust. And already, there is much praise about the inclusions.

However, there is an irony in prescribing and mandating content and it purports that there are certain histories that are deemed more useful than others. Of course, curriculum cannot teach everything, but the

of Asian cultures are to do with their relations to the West.

Though the Syllabus pushes for the teaching of disciplinary skills in ‘doing’ history — such as rigorous source analysis and critical consideration of historical perspectives — this focus surmounts that the aim of history is to develop rational and logical methods of understanding the past legitimising the importance of methodology over directly contending with the intersection between politics and history. While methodology is important to the work of professional historians, the discipline of history discipline does also regulate what kind of questions can and should be asked within historical inquiry, with these questions never being neutral. Though teaching History through its disciplinary skills is seen by the Syllabus as a logical and rational way to move students away from memorisation of dates and events, this approach does also fail to consider that history, the past, and the ways in which we contend with them, are not always rational or logical, nor should they be taught as such.

All this to say that the teaching of history has a real impact on how identity, personal and national, is developed. And history is not a neutral discipline. The content of the incoming NSW History Syllabus, while broader than previous iterations, is still limited in scope. How this will impact students is now left to be seen.

Sandra Kalllarakkal assesses the textbooks.

Vince Tafea analyses.

All quotes are from psychology students who filled out a survey sent out via snowball sampling in Week 10 and 11. 19 responses were collected at the time of writing and submissions are still open (visit the linktr.ee/usydpsychologystudents).

Preliminary statistics are referenced but an extensive summary will be available at a later date.

End ‘Mandatory’ In-Person Lecture Attendance

“The School of Psychology frequently emphasises that we are responsible for the effort we invest in our own studies. Making lecture attendance mandatory seems to contradict this principle. Attending lectures in person, and gaining the benefits from it, should be a choice each student makes based on their own goals and learning style. If I believe I can succeed without attending in-person lectures, that decision should be mine to make. While it’s important to educate students on the advantages of attending lectures, ultimately, the choice to take advantage of them should rest with the student, not the teacher.”

— Respondent 12 (2nd Year, B Psychology)

each week.”

Students already deliberately plan their on-campus attendance to fall within a narrow set of days to accommodate their commitments or travel requirements.2

Consider, in addition to full-time students, how ridiculous it is for parttime students — often taking a single subject — who are now forced to either a) organise their life around going to campus 4 times a week or; b) undertake the Herculean task of wallowing through bureaucratic procedures with no clear idea of whether their reason for not going to lectures is permissible in the eyes of the overseers.

This is not to say that the fault lies with individual academics or that the School of Psychology is out to disadvantage students. There is undoubtedly a pedagogical rationale or appeal to some observational correlation. Nevertheless, the effects of the policy are de facto classist and cater towards a platonic form of an ideal, privileged USyd student, whether intentional or not. That student is one who does not have to work, who does not have responsibilities, who learns best

Semester 2 of 2023, and there was plenty of robust feedback given in the end of unit surveys. It seems these are sent out into the void.

Obstacle 2: The unit coordinator must contend with the notion that students may be adversarial to what they would like to implement.

In the case of ‘mandatory’ lecture attendance, it probably doesn’t take too much ingenuity to predict that this is the case. Deliberation like this is difficult and somewhat unprecedented. As cynical as it may be, if the unit coordinator is the ultimate arbiter of course structure, and students are going to be difficult about it, why go through the hassle?

Obstacle 3: Even if in good faith the unit coordinator desires to have meaningful dialogue with students; they are overworked academics in an increasingly corporatised university.

Academics themselves are workers that are beholden to a corporate management in which a democratic culture is a hindrance rather than an asset. Each day academics face looming austerity measures — despite billions

between psychology students and academics.

What this may look like is itself a point of discussion, but for the meantime, a tangible thing students can do is complete the survey (in the QR code) and make other psychology students aware of this article and what we’re trying to do.

I am optimistic about academics recognizing the place we’re coming from. After comments about their unit being one of the few that does not have mandatory lecture attendance, one coordinator noted during their lecture; “this is from my own background. I do a lot of work in equity and inclusion and I know there are reasons people can’t be here in the lecture theatre today.”

I propose open forums that allow reciprocal communication on a collective level and earnest engagement from students and unit coordinators alike. Knowing the radical history of our university, I believe this to be very possible.

For now we have one demand of the department: no in-person lecture attendance requirements for 2025 and beyond.

Mind over mandate: Psychology students get organised!

In the past year, a significant portion of unit coordinators in the USYD School of Psychology have introduced ‘mandatory’ in-person lecture attendance components.1

“You couldn’t really opt out… you would just have to forfeit a portion of your grade.”

— Respondent 17 (1st Year, B Commerce).

Psychology subjects are notorious for being content-heavy, with three lectures a week being standard for first and second-year subjects. In addition to a tutorial, the current structure compels students to be on campus up to four times a week for a single subject.

The requirements can look like a quiz question during each lecture or a QR code to scan, and the particular percent of attendance required varies from unit to unit. The key point is that they’re in-person and, according to 15 of 19 respondents, inconsiderate of the diverse needs and responsibilities of students.

Two major barriers to in-person attendance cited by students were “workplace commitments” and “distance / transportation”, sitting at 68.4% and 52.6% respectively. As Respondent 2 (1st Year, B Arts) aptly wrote: “Most people have other important commitments like work which they cannot skip out on which are affected by the three lectures

with in-person lectures, and who lives close to campus. Indeed, with part-time and international students not having access to travel concessions and students like myself from Western Sydney having treks upwards of two hours, the policy is at best out of touch and needs to be abolished.

Obstacles to Consultation

100% of respondents agreed that the School of Psychology should consult students before implementing course changes that may affect students. The iatrogenic consequences of the attendance policy are significant. Yet, the fundamental problem that enables the implementation of such out of touch measures is that students aren’t proactively engaged with in regards to issues that predictably affect them. The recent introduction of ‘mandatory’ lecturers can offer insight into some obstacles to meaningful consultation.

Obstacle 1: The notion of consulting the students, even tokenistically, needs to enter into cognition for the unit coordinator.

In my three years studying psychology, there has been no major indication from coordinators that consultation is needed. I say ‘tokenistically’ because it does not even seem to be a box that needs to be checked. Myself and many of my friends were the first to face the PSYC2016 lecture attendance experiment in

of dollars in profit annually — the publish or perish imperative, and the reality that one must work well over the hours on paper required to survive.

Considering this, it’s no wonder that pressures imposed by the corporate university structure encourages a view that students are another problem in the backlog of many others to be solved rather than important stakeholders to work with. Academics are at capacity and something must give.

Obstacle 4: There is an implicit power dynamic between students and academics that needs to be carefully considered.

Students deeply respect and revere academics and are often afraid to voice dissent or risk being looked upon unfavourably. Lecturers and tutors sometimes forget how much of an impression they can make on students both positive or negative. For the few students that do voice concerns, the potential for momentum is not there because of the atomized nature of interactions.

Where to next?

Psychology students are not aware of their collective power. While my immediate goal is to advocate and work towards abolishing ‘mandatory’ in-person lectures, I ultimately would like to cultivate a culture of grassroots democracy and direct consultation

1 I put ‘mandatory’ in quotation marks because a tutor launched a semantic argument of them technically not being mandatory. I concede, in the same way it is not ‘mandatory’ to eat and drink in life, it is not ‘mandatory’ to pass a course or get good grades at university.

2 I’ve even heard before the days of recorded lecturers that undergraduates of old used to have rotations in which it would be someone’s turn to go to a lecture to take notes or get the slides!

3 I have seen it done out of the volition of the individual lecturers who send out their own surveys but this is the exception not the rule. Coincidentally, they have been my favourite lecturers.

Find a comment from the University of Sydney’s School of Psychology online.

Scan here to participate in the survey.

Student Media Spotlight:

Zeina Khochaiche lends an ear

A few weeks ago, I met some new media comrades from Macquarie University, eager to know more about one of the youngest student publications in Australia. However, this instalment of Student Media Spotlight ended up looking a little different than expected.

Meet Grapeshot — Macquarie University’s student publication since 2009, this fruity publication is known for variegated perspective pieces, thrilling creative short stories and captivating campus writings.

Where I expected bright-eyes, new events and vibrant stories, I was instead met with fatigue, recounts of censorship and demotivating budget cuts. Grapeshot is still all the former qualities, but have spent the last 8 months of their tenure battling intense editorial board reviews and decisive censorship of Palestine coverage from University management.

Meeting with me was the Editor-inchief, Clara who studies Environment Studies and English, and wittily described herself as “queer as fuck who loves to write”.

Joining Clara was Deputy Editorin-chief, Zeinab — a budding Media and Communications and English student.

The name ‘Grapeshot’ (colloquially Grapey) refers to the medieval contraption that shoots small iron balls that sit tightly packed in an open structure, resembling a cluster of grapes. Clara revealed that “depending on who you ask, the publication started in 2015 when the name Grapeshot was instated.”

Lachlan Griffiths writes.

In recent times, Grapeshot has experienced significant pushback and alleged censorship from University management. Unlike Honi Soit, the publication does not have editorial independence and must get every edition checked and approved by the editorial board. Zaynab told Honi the editorial review has consistently stymied articles on Gaza.

Earlier this year a Macquarie student wrote an article about the USyd Gaza Solidarity Encampment, explaining what the encampment was protesting for, discussions with USyd management and the overall student experience. However an image of a tent that had the liberation chant, “from the river to the sea”, was flagged for being allegedly anti-semitic, preventing its publishing unless the image was removed. Likewise, whole articles were being cut and editors were allegedly forced to change words such as “genocide” and “Gaza” to University-approved language.

Zaynab recounted working on a tribute to Aaron Bushnell and a timeline piece, mapping the events from October 7 through to the new year. She ran both articles by the team who agreed the article was robust and endorsed it but they were not approved to be published. According to Zaynab, the articles were “[the board said it was] supposedly not in the interest of students. Even though we have a Macquarie Students for Palestine and the article was written by a student”, she recalled.

“Macquarie is very neutral. They

make that very clear in their statements and public presence claiming they represent every student. But that also means silencing the voices of Arab students like me who want to talk about what has been happening in the Middle East”, she stated.

But the pushback did not stop here. Grapeshot is supposed to put out six editions every year, divided between semesters, but the editorial review board did not get back to the editors regarding their first edition until later in the semester. The change of the Dean of Students, who oversees the publication, along with a lack of cooperation with the editors has only exacerbated their challenges.

At the time of the interview, Grapeshot had published two editions and remained fervently committed to publishing the remaining four despite the challenges. Even through their fatigue, a dedication to “student expression and holding the university to account” remains their priority. Grapeshot looks forward to two themed editions; FREAK (sex) and ROOTS (Australiana)

On top of this, no one gets paid. Editing and writing for Grapeshot is an entirely volunteer-based position. So far in this Spotlight, even if it’s minimal, editors we have interviewed receive some form of remittance. According to Clara, there used to be an honorarium in 2023 but a major budget cut axed this funding.

Even though they are not

This be the Verse

Australian poetry rarely makes the news.

So, when the position of Poet Laureate was announced, it was a redletter day. Or was it? Many countries have a Laureate. Britain’s is perhaps the most famous, its seat being warmed by Tennyson, Wordsworth amongst a long list. Their government once promised an “annual butt of canary wine” in exchange for verses produced on official public occasions. This announcement hopefully means that the arts might be seeing some increased funding in the next few years. This would be a welcome reversal of the traditional pittance. Sarah Holland-Batt has said in a recent piece on this subject that Australia has a “wilful neglect” of poetry. Ours is a society where poetry is often dismissed as dilettantish, if it is considered at all. With the increasing removal of English units in Universities, the reading and celebration of poetry has been increasingly forgotten. Australian poetry often has historically been relegated to a place of childish mockery, cheap petty-politicking and the tawdry balladry of jingoistic nationalists wanting to ramble about stockmen and gambolling horse-thieves.

Lawson and Paterson ring out as bad advertisements of tired rhyming verse with very little by way of literary value. To introduce a poet laureate is to go part of the way to reclaim Australian poetry from the stain of its at-once perceived unseriousness and perceived elitism. Poetry is the encapsulation of humanity. How can poetry be elitist if it is a product of something so human: emotion. By lauding a poet in public, we laud poetry. Appointing a poet laureate becomes an opportunity to make poetry known in the public eye outside the classroom or small reading. It acknowledges that those who hold the purse-strings think of it as something to be valued.

However, a few major issues with this proposal make me inclined to be against it. Appointing a laureate takes poetry out of the hands of the poets and into the hands of the government. The one lucky winner becomes expected to dish out pithy little rhyming ditties to celebrate public events. Every time an official gets out of a car they’ll be expected to be there with a notepad, ready to compose a tawdry couplet in adoration. It’ll be a conveyor belt for songs of mediocre supplication. Poets laureates always

paid, Zaynab noted this means the submissions and culture around Grapeshot is built from pure passion. “People view it as less of a job and view it the same way people are in bands together but we experience a lot of flaking and instability because it is volunteering.”, she said.

When asked how Grapeshot connects to their student community in spite of institutional challenges, the editors remain hopeful for a fruitful future for Grapeshot. “We love our team, we love writing, we love this magazine, we are all here to do the same thing, which is to express ourselves and there is always a place for you.”, Clara added.

The editors’ commitment to their publication is an outstanding feat of perseverance and dedication. We hope to see Grapeshot and all student publications continue their fight for student expression.

seem stuck being expected to write what Dryden called a “complimentary address.” Poetry written as a vehicle of patronage serves the patron more than the poet. Consider Tennyson’s Ode on Wellington’s Death: would he have written that if he hadn’t been expected to by the conventions of his office? Further, picking the laureate is a mess. Who gets to choose? Is there a kind of poet they are looking for?

Picking one poet excludes every other. Furthermore, claiming that a single poet can represent the whole corpus of Australian poetry writing today is impossible. Creative writing is too personal to be turned into the output of a government department. Perhaps the clearest argument against the Poet Laureate is this: What’s the point?

Having one seems entirely superfluous. Yes, it raises the awareness of poetry in the public eye, but proper funding to Arts courses and cultural institutions or publishing grants would do the same thing with a more tangible effect. It would help the state of poetry and not just the career of one writer who would have won a kind of perverse lottery. We are going to go on writing verse regardless of whether one of our number is ordained as town

crier for the profession. If anything, the announcement feels like a means for an end, with the poet laureate being simply used by the government to say ‘look, we aren’t neglecting the arts.’

I am, however, glad that the government is trying. Well-meaning initiatives like this give me hope that at least somebody publicly is interested in poetry, even if I don’t think they will change anything. People write poetry because it is a compulsion that lies deep within their souls.

They are still Shelley’s “unacknowledged legislators of the world,” and will be able to produce works about public events that are far more meaningful because they haven’t been asked to write them as a condition of their employment. Poetry is an art, not a job. Only a slightly Yeatsian “lonely impulse of delight” should make a writer put pen to paper. Neither law, nor duty should bid them to write; the roar of cheering crowds should fall on deaf ears. Poetry cannot risk being reduced to fodder for a political soundbite.

The arts minister has not commented on whether Australia’s laureate would be showered with libations as part of their payment.

Let’s laud poets and poetry, not a poet laureate.

Written by the

Huw Bradshaw purges the records

Awhile ago, an ex-employee of the University wrote to Honi Soit about an article. For the sake of familiarity, we’ll call them Bob. The article in question, Bob alleged, was not only unfactual and inappropriate, but impeding on their professional life, living on in Google searches. Driving Bob’s concern was the fact that employers and clients were seemingly mistaking this article for real journalism, stating that “they don’t realise that Honi is student media”...

Such seems to be the fate of student journalism at large: loathed by all, respected by none. Of course, such a request to alter past work in Honi was ultimately denied. Even if the original writers and editors of the piece consented to itsit’s alteration or deletion, to do so would put us in a serious ethical dilemma: how could history simply be rewritten?

This instance, unfortunately, seems to be in the minority of cases. While nearly every student media organisation and their publishers love to pronounce their fierce editorial independence, anyone on the inside will know this is far from the truth. Though naive in their approach, Bob was ultimately correct in their understanding that the record could simply be changed at their will. Between shifting editorial teams, the whims of the student councils, overzealous presidents, lack of funding, and the everpresent threat of litigation, publications like Honi Soit are far from free.

Without further ado, I’d like to lend dear Bob a helping hand by providing a short guide to censorship in student media.

Phone a friend

In 2016, past Honi editor Max Hall penned an article critical of then SRC President Chloe Smith for her poor attendance of University committee meetings. Curiously, in the following year, after Hall’s term as an editor had expired — with a new editorial team and SRC President taking over the shop — the article goes missing.

While of course, there is no way of knowing how and why this article disappears from the website at this time, we do know that the only people capable of such an action are the SRC President and the Honi editorial team. From time to time, USyd Presidents have been known to lean ever so slightly on their student publications. This can encompass the obstruction of online articles, entire print editions, social media content, even gossip sections: at the end of the day, the President holds a near total control over the publication. Whether this control amalgamates through hostile, unnegotiated alteration — as in the case of 2019 President Jacky He — or the softer, more amicable ‘suggestions’ typical to Grassroots presidencies — often invoking shared left-wing views and terms such as ‘transformative justice’ — in both cases this authority is asserted through the President’s constitutional powers as publisher.

It’s not a great look, of course, for a President to pressure the media to delete a critical piece about them. Yet the following editorial team, with likely little attachment to the piece, and the ability to receive seemingly infinite difficulties from their own President, may be much more willing to comply.

Nowadays, Chloe Smith sits on

victors

the Inner West Council as a Labor councillor for the Stanmore-Damun Ward. Being one of the eight Labor councillors on the Council fiercely criticised for voting against the motion for a BDS review of investments, she clearly has bigger fish to fry than old Honi articles calling her a crappy SRC Prez. That being said, it’s goodglad to know the article went back up on the website in 2018. Some hope remains.

Better yet, do it yourself!

When writing our own Office Bearer report cards, the Honi team spent a lot of time reflecting on the highly controversial 2021 report cards. This led us to notice a small issue with one report card: it seemed the names of the Vice Presidents had been entirely removed from the article. Thankfully, because of the handy edit history function of wordpress, we were able to see this change was made on October 18, 2022. Curiously, the alteration made to this highly critical article came at a time where one of the individuals whose name was removed from the report, Roisin Murphy, was an editor of Honi Soit

One of the greatest strengths and weaknesses of student media is the fact that all editorial terms are finite. While it would be great to see where Scoop might have taken the paper with a five year extension of their term, then we would also be denied the great strides Spice, Fit, and Bloom made in student journalism. However, while at a regular publication, a consistent editorial team would be able to establish the checks and balances needed to ensure

journalistic integrity, with a student publication such as Honi, journalistic, political, and ethical standards are free to be thrown out the door as soon as a new team walks in.

While generally there seems to be an atmosphere of camaraderie between Honi editors, the inevitable leaking of factional allegiances and political careerists into editorial teams at times conflicts with this larger solidarity. When asked whether they were consulted about this change made to the report card, the 2021 editors stated they had received no such notice. The piece has since been returned to it’s original state.

The L Word

The Achilles heel of student journalism, of course, is material. While some publications engage in intense disputes for editorial independence, others are just barely able to hold on to their funding for printing. The universal language for gagging student media is any combination of the words “lawyer”, “sue”, “defamatory” or “litigation”. If this doesn’t shut your student journalists up, their legal advisors will likely do that for you. Every decent publication has had at least some experience with legal threats, whether that come from massive institutions, federal politicians, or even their very own SRC President. At the end of the day, we simply don’t have the funds to deal with serious threats of litigation.

While Honi is backed by a great legal advisor whose knowledge of defamation law is only bested by the length of his moustache, we too are still limited in our resources. While

we would never shy away from topics that may draw threats of litigation, at times we are nearly defenceless in this capacity.

In Conclusion…

To briefly return to Bob’s dilemma, it seems unlikely that such a request would have been made of a serious publication such as the Sydney Morning Herald or ABC. Only an unserious publication such as Honi would be asked to scrub it’s archives at anybody’s whim. Yet this only raises the question: in all these cases, if Honi is so unserious that it may be purged, altered, and censored without a care, then why do we make them so scared? Ultimately, it is the fundamental unseriousness at the heart of student journalism that makes it so serious. Honi Soit, as with all student publications, has a serious place to play in the wider media landscape, and it will certainly not fulfil this role by aping the SMH or trying to do ‘serious journalism’: whatever that means. While the ABC sacks career journalists for speaking out against genocide and the New York Times reaches new heights of passive tone, Honi Soit will continue to be unserious, to be considered “student media” as a pejorative, to be defaced and censored wantonly, because these exterior defects are nothing to the immanent corruption found elsewhere. We’re a little silly, a little fucked up, but at the end of the day, we still have teeth. Try not to get bit.

Everyone knows domestic violence is an epidemic.

Why can’t I talk about it?

Anonymous tells their story.

Content warning: This piece discusses domestic violence.

Domestic violence lived in my house and it watched me grow up. Home was not a constant storm, but like living on the Ring of Fire: you’d be a fool not to prepare for the next earthquake. You didn’t know how long you had on solid ground, or if the next tremor would be better or worse, but you always knew it was coming. And it always came.

I diverted questions from teachers, nodded when friends told me they found the abuser warm and funny, shut down if family tried to raise the topic. I can’t remember ever being explicitly told to keep quiet, but I gathered as such from family glances and whispers.

Apart from telling one high school friend, and trembling like a dog in a storm on my way home, I helped keep up the pretence of a normal household. The abuser constructed an artifice in order to protect his image and reputation. Instead of unveiling the truth, I lathered on a coat of varnish, I made the lies shiny and I protected his work that threatened my mum and I behind closed doors. At times, it makes me question where I sit between victim and bystander.

After years of silence, I craved to tell some friends the truth. I refined the story, ready to deliver. I selected memories which convey the seriousness of the situation, whilst omitting the ones which are too scary or strange to seem believable. I inserted pauses to check that the listener is feeling okay. I whittled it down to a haiku, a sonnet, or sometimes I prepared to tell a best friend the epic, the mountain range of beginning to end. I needed to lend someone else the text that I’ve been reading and re-reading in search of answers.

After years of editing, proofreading and fact checking the story, why does telling people still feel impossible? Why, why, why, when I open my mouth to bring it up, do I feel like I’m lying? Or that I’m fraudulently appropriating someone else’s story to seek attention?

At catch-ups with friends, I’ll mentally set a time to bring it up, or I’ll text them beforehand to warn them. Almost every time I give up, convincing myself it’s for their sake rather than mine — I don’t want to dampen their sunny work lunch break/Saturday pre-drinks before the party/Sunday morning run. Often I make a limp attempt of sharing that my parents are getting divorced: Yes, it’s okay! Yes, it’s been a long time coming. And yes, it’s mostly amicable, though I’m staying with Mum.

One sentiment hard to shake is that people won’t believe you — an invalidation that reminds you of the layers of denial which cloak abuse. The innermost is self-denial, where you refuse to admit the severity of the situation. Applying language such as “abuse” or “domestic violence” would require action, and you either are or feel powerless, so

you borrow everyday euphemisms such as “anger management issues” to laugh the situation away. Then there’s denial from other victims in the household, which compounds your own. Their recollection of the events may clash with yours and can sow disagreement — so it’s better not to prod the elephant in the room. Of course, the largest force of denial comes from the abuser, who in one breath apologises and denies everything in the next.

Since you barely believe yourself, your biggest fear is a flicker of doubt in the listener. You watch for a raised eyebrow or conversation pause that conceals their passing thought: “is that really abuse?”. If that’s what they’re thinking, it would validate your greatest fear — that what has tormented you for years was really nothing at all. Nothing worth worrying, complaining, or having nightmares about.

Once you tell someone, you lose all narrative control. Listeners, without trying, insert their own perceptions of you or the abuser into the story, and project their own experiences onto it. In a situation over which you had zero control, the one time you find authority is when you mentally piece together what actually happened. All of a sudden, once this story is out in the world, you say goodbye to that too.

You also greatly fear how people’s perceptions of you will shift after digesting the story. In one undesirable extreme, they pity you as a helpless victim: considering this issue lived beside you since you were knee-height, a sudden outpour of compassion feels confusing.

On the flip side of the coin, and unfortunately the one which has landed the most in my experience — friends take the snippets you feel comfortable sharing and stitch together the best case scenario. One of a messy divorce, or an unfortunate breakdown of communication between father and child. Often they relate their own, clearly unrelated, experience of familial discord.

Of course, I know the motivations to normalise or even trivialise my experience come from a good place — no close friend wants to presume their loved one is experiencing abuse. However, once I sense that people have set the benchmark of my situation as not that serious, I water the story down to meet their expectations and walk away from the interaction feeling lonelier than before.

All this considered, maintaining silence is deliciously tempting. It’s what you’ve always known. But how could you forget: silence is how you ended up here. Domestic violence feeds on silence and it is only when it is deprived of it that it starves and dies.

One of the most surprising experiences about lifting the lid has been feeling more validated by institutions than the people around me. Famously dismissive and problematic

establishments, both the university and the government treated my situation as urgent, even when I was reticent with detail. I was referred to free services I never would have thought I were eligible for until explicitly told — Safer Communities at USyd and the NSW Government’s Victim Services counselling program. My experience with these programs may not be representative of all interactions with these systems, but they were the first forms of validation I received that what I experienced was real and worthy of attention.

The process of telling people has felt hopeless. Faced with lacklustre or invalidating responses, often I wish I had kept my mouth shut. But for every offhand comment, I’ve seen recognition unfold in a friend’s face. I’ve had friends confirm that things were abnormal. That words like “abuse” and “domestic violence” were not exaggerations, but descriptors I deserved to use. I’ve been told that I’m resilient — and I’m starting to believe it.

Support services:

Book a free confidential chat with the University of Sydney’s Safer Communities service: call +61 2 8627 6808 or email safer-communities. officer@sydney.edu.au

Call the NSW Domestic Violence Line (1800 656 463) for free counselling and referral services.

The NSW Domestic Violence website can provide you with a wide range of information about domestic violence if you are at risk or are concerned about another person.

The Women’s Domestic Violence Court Advocacy Service can provide you with information, advocacy and referrals if you or your children have been experiencing domestic and family violence. Call 1800 WDVCAS (1800 938 227).

If you have experienced or witnessed a violent crime in NSW, you can apply for 22 free counselling sessions under the Victims Services scheme. There does not need to be a charge for you to access this support.

Woman, Interrupted:Remembering May Ziadé

Years ago, I stumbled upon the name May Ziadé (or Ziadeh). Unless studied in academic spaces, the average person will not be familiar with who she was. Yet Ziadé is credited as one of the first writers to invoke the phrase “women’s/feminist cause” in the Arab world, and is referred to as a “pioneering female model” in the Arabic literary canon. Despite this, her life’s work is not readily available for the masses, and has been mostly lost to time. The narrative behind Ziade’s career as a ‘woman writer’ has since taken on a life of its own.

Born in Nazareth in 1886 to a Palestinian mother and Lebanese father, Ziadé primarily studied in and lived in Egypt, and dedicated her life to writing and translating stories. She was known for advocating for women’s rights and was a proponent of studying women’s history when that was not encouraged. She was also the first professional writer to apply a critical lens to women’s stories or stories written by women. She published articles in her father’s newspaper, Al Mahrousa, under pseudonyms like “Shejia”, “Khaled Raafat”, “Isis Kobia”, “Aida”, “Kanar”, and “The First Marine Sindadah”. Her first published book was Fleurs de rêve (1911), a poetry collection in French.

“If men are the material, women are the soul. If men are the fiction, women are the prose.”

Every Tuesday, Ziadé would hold her women-run, gender-inclusive literary salon which was renowned for its intellectual freedom and a welcome space for literary production. However, there was always a double standard at play. Male colleagues like Abbas Mahmoud Al-Aqqad would say, “What you talk is as pleasant as what you write after vision and preparation” only to fixate over “her looks that resemble a beautiful museum packed with good taste.”

Her 20-year relationship with Lebanese-American writer Gibran Kahlil Gibran has proved most captivating for those writing about Ziadé’s life, centring their “complete[ly] virgin love” which unfolded over written correspondence only. Even the Al Jazeera documentary spends time on this element of Ziadé’s life, with some participants theorising whether Gibran truly loved her or whether she loved him more.

Unlike her work, endless speculation and conspiracies about Ziadé survived the test of time. One of few to condemn this phenomenon, Jihan Ghazawi Awni would write in a letter to Samira Azzam: “They accused her of being a lesbian, and claimed that she never loved anyone, not even Gibran. Others accused her of coldness and lack of emotions, as well as sexual perversion. Others claimed that she was extremely weak and pessimistic, to the extent that she lost control when her letters to Gibran were stolen. Not even one of her critics attempted to study Ziadé through what she wrote.”

In 1964, Ilene Abboud noted that “had our literary community switched from analysing Ziadé’s love life to analysing her literary works within the context of the time she lived in, it would have contributed to making her works popular among the majority of young men and women who remain unaware of such a great Arab writer and thinker.”

“I am a woman who has spent her life between her pens, stationery, books, and research. All my thoughts have been centred around ideals. This idealistic life has made me oblivious to how malicious people can be. I have ignored the malice and certain people’s deadly poison disguised as gentleness.”

During her 50s, Ziadé was accused of insanity by her own family, put on house arrest before being forcibly entered into a sanitarium. For a person who sought freedom for women, men and the nation, this functioned as a cruel punishment for being a successful woman.

It is clear reading about Ziadé that she suffered from mental health issues, namely depression after the passing of Gibran, her parents, and younger brother. However, like many women before her and many after her, this has been exploited to financially benefit the people around her.

Having voiced the sentiment that she did “not want to die outside of [her] home”, Ziadé was released after taking a “post-insanity” test. She gave a final speech at the American University of Beirut in the presence of judges overseeing an inheritance dispute between her and her same relatives who imprisoned her unjustly.

“I hope that after my death someone will do justice to me and find the sincerity and honesty contained in my small writings.”

In 1997, Joseph Zeidan wrote The Unknown Works of Mai Ziadeh which collated and edited many of Ziadé’s previously unpublished writings. In 2018, Algerian novelist Waciny Laredj wrote May — The Nights of Isis Copia (2018) which served as a fictionalised biography. In 2024, Carmen Boustani published La Passion d’écrire which also centred other Lebanese writers.

While many famous writers interacted with Ziadé and attended her salon, no one wrote about her life. Ziadé was rumoured to have written an autobiography titled The Nights of Usfouriyya during her captivity, however, it is said to have been lost to time. As such Ziadé, continues to be defined by the perceptions of other writers, even if the intention has shifted from that of undermining her intellect, womanhood and being to depicting her life, career and struggles with utmost care.

The onus remains for many readers and writers to discover who she was, what

she did, and what happened to her, in the hope that her name lives on. While we can never truly know her, the least we can do is not parrot the very criticisms that hurt her during her life, and persisted long after her death in 1941, just a few years before the 1948 Nakba and where only three people attended her funeral.

Unfortunately, Ziadé was not praised for what she did or who she was, nor was she respected as a writer. Her writing was met with admiration but her personhood met with indifference. She was praised as a writer fighting against confines of gender, only to have that very label weaponised against her.

the day begins

Thuận Ánh

writes.

the day begins, when the cloud blurs the sun, brushing off blonde rays from my braids, coloured an ocean, little ballerinas pirouette in my chest, as fate heads me towards a beloved woman.

she stands with her back against the door, loneliness looming over her like a carnivore, fidgeting, shrinking, mumbling, poison pouring, “i don’t think we should see each other anymore”

the floor under me starts to crack, while my head fills with so many questions to ask, it’s suffocating — invisible hands gripping my throat, to admit defeat, holding a white flag.

the world loses its colours amidst the spring i shatter into nothing consumed by my own grief until i hear a ting!

the day begins, when the spring comes green, i arrive at the place, bubbling with caffeine, eager for her smile, her kiss, her warmth wrapping me in satin.

her silhouette was bigger than before conjoined with a figure she often draws by a gentle kiss on the lips clueless of the surprise tearing me raw.

cloudy day falls with me in sync, heavy steps sinking, lost between strange cold buildings, waiting for a big wind to sweep me away, until i hear a

ting!

the day begins, when i lie awake in the same place until the silence breaks, “why don’t you come,” she calls in anger, as guilt paints my vision opaque.

emptiness flows down my throat and becomes all i can drink, throwing me in a spiral, pushing me on the brink, cutting my thoughts short, until i hear a

ting!

the day begins,

ting!

the day begins, ting!

Valerie Chidiac goes to the salon.

Looking for the homeland, living in the diaspora…

Shayla Zreika checks in her cultural baggage.

One day, you can picture the cedar trees and running rivers of the small village town, dreaming vicariously through the stories of your father’s childhood. And the next, you are bearing witness to horrific scenes of rubble, fire and fear on your Instagram feed.

Second-generation migrants exist in the trifling paradox of ‘East’ and ‘West’. Born in a diaspora where one’s entire life occurs outside the homeland, you are disconnected by geography but entwined by blood — a zone that is neither here nor there. As children, you are taught to call “home” in a language foreign to your parents’ tongue before being left to navigate a hazed sense of belonging and endurance.

As the daughter of Lebanese migrants, I have never felt more connected to my Arabic roots than I do today. It is a curious paradox, given that I have yet to visit Lebanon. And so, it can take a little longer to become in touch with my roots.

Growing up, Arabic was not my first language, so my parents ensured my siblings and I learned it well. I began attending Arabic school at four years old in a small madrasah and continued my studies through primary and high school. However, I always treated Arabic as a secondary priority — English and Mathematics were my primary focus, and so I would only speak Arabic with my grandparents or when reading the Quran.

About a year ago, it occurred to me I was losing touch with my mother tongue, and so I took it upon myself to challenge my speaking ability. During a casual family dinner, my parents began to reminisce about the popular Arabic music they played in the ‘90s and early 2000s. What was fascinating was the instant connection I felt with the songs they played; a switch had immediately flipped, illuminating the abandoned memories of summer drives around the neighbourhood, and family weddings of my childhood. The lyrics became as clear as poetry, and the familiar melodies struck a sense of nostalgia so joyful I can hardly put it into words.

Today, I am struck with the same nostalgia whenever an Arabic song comes on shuffle, captured by my cheesy grin and fluttering fingers. In these interactions with the Arabic language, I find myself more in command of my native tongue. By appreciating the richness of Arabic culture for myself, I have grown a stronger connection with my roots. I see it in how I now speak with my grandparents and observe the mannerisms of my parents. Beyond their immense knowledge and

wisdom, the migrant generation holds the utmost respect for their culture — their traditions are sacred rather than rigid. I hope to display this to my children one day.

For many of us, we live in a time of immense tribulation, where we are all witnesses to the immense pain and suffering of our home countries. It is a harrowing experience from afar; having to contend with the all-consuming fear of never living in your homeland, let alone the prolonged destruction of that homeland and your people.

I recently found myself closely observing Arab elders within my community — each with a story of endurance and diligence as migrants, most of whom fled the Civil War in Lebanon in the 1970s. Despite the pressures of assimilation into the Australian lifestyle, they carried the traditions of home to a new land — not only through values and cultural recipes but the physical manifestation of their home country. The way my grandmothers took pride in the jewelry they chose at the local Arab jeweler, seeing it as an investment rather than a trinket, changed the way I viewed my fashion choices and its direct link to my identity.

Like my grandmothers, I choose to project my Lebanese roots in my appearance, specifically through the mixing and matching of jewelry. In Westernised spaces, including university, my bangles and ornament earrings are subtle reminders of my Lebanese heritage. When I am asked about the Arabic pendant I wear on a necklace, it almost always strikes a meaningful conversation about my culture.

It saddens me to think I have yet to visit Lebanon. With the current war imposed on my home country, it is easy to feel disheartened and numb. And so, I write to assure second-generation migrants that while there is truly no place like home, we will always carry our homeland within us wherever we go. It is in our numbers and community that we can sustain the narrative of our ancestors in the ‘West’.

For the diaspora, there is no place like home. Yet, it is also in living in the diaspora that we can create a home for ourselves. A home where descendants of immigrants can exist within the paradox between their cultural roots and their current home.

After all, that is the only way that the homeland feels less distant. It can and will live on for us, and within us, for generations to come.

Photography: Valerie Chidiac

The politics of the (un) civilised:

Remnants of the coloniser loom over us like a shadow, etched into the very fabric of our daily lives across Middle Eastern and North African cultures. For centuries, nay, millennia, my people have eaten with their hands. It was not a practice exclusive to us, nor was it stigmatised, it was simply the way things were.

Then came the coloniser.

“It’s unclean”, they said. “It’s uncivilised”. But, what they really meant to say, was that our eating practices could not possibly supersede that of the coloniser.

In the colonial imagination, to accept the validity of the colonised people’s way of life would simply serve to undermine the very foundation of their own supremacy. As Frantz Fanon proclaimed, “In the colonial context the settler only ends his work of breaking in the native when the latter admits loudly and intelligibly the supremacy of the white man’s values.” This is the crux of it. Colonialism is not merely the assertion of physical dominance, it is the systematic imposition of a cultural hierarchy in which European customs were the epitome of so-called civilisation, and Oriental cultures only a juxtaposition.

Conveniently enough, this notion did not extend to European and Western cuisine. No one blinks twice when pizza, burgers, or hors d’oeuvres are eaten with hands. So, why must the ethnic origins of food determine the social acceptability of eating with your hands? It seems that a classic principle is at play here: as long as a white man is doing it, it’s not just accepted, but celebrated.

Yet when we approach Middle Eastern and North African cuisines, the practice becomes controversial. Issues of hygiene and manners

are plastered over Orientalist and colonialist tropes. Suddenly, the act of tearing bread or scooping rice is met with judgement, and double standards become entrenched.

In Syria, our traditional breakfast is 7awader: a spread traditionally consisting of zaa’tar, zeit (olive oil), zaytoon (olives), jibneh (cheese), labneh (savoury yoghurt), makdous (pickled eggplant) and assortments of fresh vegetables. When translated literally, ‘7awader’ means ‘present’, simply whatever is there; a beautiful concept that emanates the resourcefulness of my people. Every morning, without fail, we get up to adorn the table with our spread. Before long, the sound of tearing khubs (bread) perforates the morning air. As I dip the khubs into the zeit (olive oil) w zaa’tar , the scent of the freshly picked oregano leaves follows me, an origin story waiting to be explored through taste. The act of scooping my food with khubs is a visceral experience. It is grounding. Eating with your hands is not simply convenient or functional, it’s a way to connect, to slow down, to engage all of your senses and appreciate every aspect of your meal. It’s a deliberate, mindful act — one that predates the invention of cutlery. Historically speaking, the first concoctions of ‘cutlery’ were rudimentary, with seashells for spoons, two-pronged forks, and blades for knives — tools used across various ancient civilisations. Even after the evolution of cutlery, people continued to eat with their hands, with the occasional exception of a knife or ladle. Rather, this is a call for introspection. Winston Churchill once famously suggested that Dr. S Radhakrishnan use cutlery to be more “hygienic”, to which the Dr retaliated simply

by exclaiming that unlike cutlery, nobody had ever used his hands to eat before. Thus, the coloniser’s rewriting of the narrative should come as no surprise, as our cultures continue to be delegitimised. Cutlery can be steel, silver, gold, or even crystal… but hands, well, they stay hands, and their worth exceeds any currency or material value.

This cycle is relentless. What’s really at play here is the intersection of colonialism and capitalism, which then thrives off the need to erase and repackage culture for profit. Practices that white society once deemed uncivilised – eating with hands, bidets, henna or mehndi — are eventually, and at this point, inevitably appropriated and rebranded as groundbreaking discoveries. In an intriguing turn of events, the same people who once scoffed are now asking, “Why isn’t everyone eating with their hands?”.

Not only does this cycle rob us of our traditions, but it distorts their meaning. Once practices are stripped of their cultural roots, or hyperexoticised, they are then repackaged for Western consumption. Eating with your hands is no longer about connection to your community or land; Instead, they are divorced from their origins and rich histories. This mirrors the colonial project itself, exploiting not only our lands, but erasing our ways of life, subsequently appropriating them on their own terms.

In the end, it’s not just about how we eat, and this is not to say we must abandon cutlery. It’s about decolonising the mind, decentering the coloniser’s attitudes, and how the very things that make us us are treated as commodities to be consumed, rather than lived experiences to be respected.

On

Sidra Ghanawi washes her hands of colonial narratives.

Art: Dana Kafina

A Chinese international student cracks the code to small talk

Lefan (Jamey) Wang has a conversation.

Having lived in the suburbs of Brisbane for the first 6 years of my life in Australia, moving down to Sydney for uni was an exciting change of environment for me. But it also made me realise how much I have assimilated into the Australian way of life, that I now take a lot of what I do and how I act for granted.

“How are you?”

This has become the start of everyday conversations with almost anyone, especially when we’re meeting them for the first time. It wasn’t long ago that the uniformed response I would give to “how are you,” would be: “I’m good, and you?” As though it were taken straight from my primary school’s English curriculum. For me, that used to be the end of my conversation with people. That was until I discovered the unknown universe of small talk.

Now that I am equipped with years of practice of responding or initiating a conversation with a stranger, whether that is with the lady walking her dog on the footpath, or grandmas and grandpas waiting for the bus, it has become almost a natural instinct of my body. Whenever I go back home to China, my parents

There are many contingencies to worry about in the weeks leading up to a graduation ceremony: who to invite, what to wear, and when to arrive are all important details. When I arrived at the Quadrangle earlier this month to receive my Bachelor’s degree, I was certain I had accounted for everything. But then, it was time to get fitted for my cap and gown.

Before I had finished sliding my arms through the mandatory Arts fur-lined robe, I could feel it was undeniably too big and too heavy. “These gowns are typically made for people with broader shoulders”, my dresser said. “But we only have one size.” She pinned the lapels in place, pulling both shoulders until they aligned tightly across my chest. My cap fell off as soon as it was placed on my head. Wearing a puddle of fabric and a lopsided tassel, I was sent off to the Great Hall for my ceremony. It quickly became obvious that academic dress was not made for people like myself; that is, people who are not men. I had not anticipated I would confront this issue during my

always find it absurd that I would strike up conversations with strangers so easily.

Back at home, the closest thing to “How are you?” is probably “Have you eaten?” (你吃了吗?), but this is often limited to the people you’ve already known and rarely extends to strangers. However, there is to some extent, the Chinese version of small talk when meeting new people. Depending on who you are speaking to, the place you are from and what you do for a living are the main topics of discussion, while for older individuals, topics of family and kids would always come up, as my grandma used to always tell people around her nursing home that her grandson was in Australia. Nevertheless, Chinese small talk can be very personal but genuine at the same: it is often used not just as an ice-breaker, but as seeds for long-term relationships.

Culturally, there is also this construct of “mianzi (面子)” that literally means the “face” , which reflects your personal image and reputation as perceived by others. Growing up, whenever I would do something stupid in public, my mum would always yell

graduation — or that it would even be an issue to begin with. It appears that, until now, this gendered legacy of the University of Sydney’s academic rituals was swamped underneath sheets of dark blue taffeta.

The advent of academic dress at the University of Sydney

The academic dress familiar to students at the University of Sydney is modelled on their mediaeval predecessors at the University of Cambridge. Evolving from a sleeveless cappa clausa cloak to an open gown by the sixteenth century, these outfits were designed to be as heavy and warm as possible for scholars graduating in draughty sandstone halls.

Known commercially as The Churchill Gown, our University’s undergraduate robes feature waistlength, open-slit sleeves and unique hoods for every degree. While there are no rules around what graduates must wear beneath the gown, clothing like a suit or blazer is often considered ‘appropriate’ or ‘formal.’ Perhaps coincidentally, these items usually

at me, “Don’t lose your ‘face’!”I would care so much about my mianzi, and striking up small talk with a stranger in public would always seem to put my ‘face’ in jeopardy, because I would risk making a fool of myself to others in doing something that is not socially accepted.

That is perhaps why I used to feel so awkward and afraid when talking to someone new, as if there was some sort of pressure in speaking in a way that is socially accepted by others. There is also this burden of coming up with topics that would be inclusive and appropriate enough for someone to participate in, and that could almost always outweigh the benefit of engaging in that conversation. So I would rather stay silent and let the awkwardness continue.

To be blatantly honest, after years of living here, I am still not sure how I got around this hurdle, or what the point of it all is, but my body does it almost intuitively now. Maybe it’s my inner-extrovert or maybe it’s the effects of my social osmosis within Australia, I don’t know.

Nevertheless, comparing the two cultures often makes me question, do

‘bulk up’ the wearer to carry their heavy cloaks, and cater explicitly to male fashion trends.

When women graduate Gowns, hoods, and caps were designed at a time when men were exclusively granted passage to universities At first, this applied to male monks and clerics hailing from the Roman Catholic Church. By the time the University of Sydney was founded in 1850, this extended to the sons of the British Empire’s richest colonial families. It is important to recognise that this classist and imperialist history exists alongside the misogynistic legacies of academic dress.

When the first women graduated from the University in 1885, they donned the same robes as their male counterparts. Today, 15,000 women who comprise 58% of the University’s undergraduate cohort wear the same outfits designed almost 150 years prior. Although standardised gowns can be considered a marker of gender parity, the refusal to offer sizing options and

How to (not) dress for graduation

we really care about other people’s own business? Do we ask someone “how are you” when we don’t often mean it? Have we ever prepared ourselves for the day when your local pub’s bartender tells you they are having a bad day, or are we ever prepared to admit to a stranger that we are feeling down? I feel that “how are you” has become a norm of mannerism and lost its original meaning, where we end up responding mechanically that we are fine.

Regardless of what the social norm is, small talk itself is an art, that is probably the reason for the thousands of networking events you see across campus. I’ve also heard plenty of times that understanding how to network and form professional relationships would open doors for many opportunities.

One thing I do appreciate about small talk in Australia, is the sense of belonging it brings and the community it builds surrounding me. People are willing to engage with you, to smile at you, making me feel that we are no strangers. It is really heartwarming. That is when I feel at ease, and when I feel at home.

alterations reinforces the exclusion of women and gender diverse people from academic institutions.

Cutting a new pattern?

However, academic dress as it manifests in Sydney and Cambridge is increasingly outdated. Since the Student Movement of the 1960s, most German universities have rejected graduation gowns as symbols of right-wing conservatism. Black caps and trimmed hoods are also often an expression of elitist, colonial power around the world, with many universities across Asia, Africa, and South America replacing Western trends with traditional dress. While few of these examples reflect an appetite to make academic dress more gender inclusive, they do demonstrate a capacity for change.

Conclusion

The remainder of my graduation day was painful. My shoulders ached from the weight of the graduation gown, and my neck became stiff for fear of moving my head and tipping my cap off. This experience is not isolated, nor is it an argument in favour of modifying academic dress to comply with gendered aesthetics or styles. Rather, it is a testament to the importance of sewing together comfort, accessibility, and inclusion in tertiary institutions — and unpicking their obsolete legacies.

Simone Maddison schedules a fitting.

In defence of Canberra

Whenever I tell people where I’m from, where I grew up, they always make some funny little face. Whether they laugh, then ask if it was boring. Whether they’re surprised, because it just doesn’t seem like a place I would be from. Whether they tell me that one of their friends now goes to ANU. They may as well be asking, “aren’t you just so glad you’re finally escaped?”

And I am. I’m glad I now live in Sydney, with its trains that let me go wherever I want, its beaches, its anything you could dream of. At age 18, I thought moving away was like making a prison break.

Now I’m 22, and I would not trade growing up in Canberra for a childhood in Sydney or Melbourne. The endless opportunity of a big city would have overwhelmed teenage me, who had no clue who she was yet, but wanted to be it all. In Sydney, I would have had far too many opportunities to do absolutely everything; nothing but excellence would be required of me in order to compete with so many peers. The abundance, the fear of failure, I’m sure it would have exhausted me. A big city is so magical, but the magic is overwhelming.

Regardless, there’s things I still prefer about Canberra. A large coffee costs the same as in Sydney, but it’s the size of your head. Not being late to anything because everywhere is a 20-minute drive. There’s something about crisp, genuinely frozen air in the morning. Being able to see your breath in front of you. A real sunset every night, electric colours across the sky. Real seasons, from a genuinely sweltering summer to below-zero winters. Feeling like you know everyone, just a bit.

Growing up without having a thousand cool things to do, despite the cliche of it all, is character-building. I know I don’t need a place to be interesting, because I’m interesting enough on my own. I don’t need the city of Canberra to be funny and entertaining, because the people are. And all in all, maybe I like boring. Boring is stable, secure, reliable. I know that no matter what happens, if the city feels as turbulent as the waves, I can escape Sydney. It only takes a three hour bus ride to go somewhere I know for sure that I am loved.

In transit

Travel alert: Coffee snobs ahead

Radio Monash has issued a warning to all Melbourne denizens making the journey to the sunnier city, and I think it only fair to forewarn our own citizens of the snares awaiting them once they depart a blissfully brief plane flight only to be greeted with a 45-minute bus ride to the city centre.

With a central planning system that rivals Adelaide’s (take that as you will), Melbourne is a city of laneways, street art, great food and art snobs. If you’d like to visit a café where you can spend over $20 on a slice of cake, you won’t have to look hard to find one.

Melbourne has invented the ‘café complex’: that is, it takes its coffee so seriously that the enjoyment of a decent cuppa is more about the psychological experience than the taste. If one hasn’t queued up for forty minutes at Lune for an eye-wateringly expensive croissant, have you really been to Melbourne?.

For those carefree Sydneysiders who joyfully jaywalk around the city,

beware that Melburnians take it to a new level: rather than walking across the road, they elect to stand in the middle of it for minutes at a time waiting for their trams. Has it occurred to anyone to install proper platforms? We suspect not.

A rude surprise for visitors will be the public transport system, which, unlike Sydney’s, does not even pretend to run on time. The state government might make trips free in the CBD — but don’t let that lull you into a false sense of security. It’ll still take you an hour to cross from one end of the city centre to the other.

In their furious attempts to prove themselves better than us — which they spend a significant amount of time doing — Melburnians often preemptively mention climate and beaches, a sticking point of the two cities’ comparisons. We all know that Sydney’s weather is better, and you don’t need to shiver on the banks of the Yarra in 17°C to prove it. Don’t

bother bringing your togs; nobody can make swimming at St Kilda look pleasant.

However, Melbourne is rightfully lauded for its arts & culture scene. It self-promotes as if it’s the only Australian city to produce decent art, which is flagrantly incorrect, but some of its best exports (other than overpriced coffee) include television gems such as Fisk. Kitty Flanagan is a joy to behold — she was born in Manly, but we’ll overlook that. Finally, avoid talking about football, or going anywhere near the Melbourne Cricket Ground when there’s a game on. In fact, don’t go out at all when there’s a game on! Everyone will either be at the game, at the pub, or on their way to the game/pub. At the sound of the word “AFL,” a local will instantly prick their ears up and ask what team you barrack for. Always say Collingwood.

Gemma Hudson looks back.

Imogen Sabey heads to Naarm.

Print-making by Persia Dell’Aquila.

The final chapter: Euphoria at last

You wake up to the sound of the door slamming, your neck is sore. Beneath you, the shabby Facebook Marketplace couch that Paul swears he washed. Memories from last night wash over. Jacob. Paul. Missing the train. Your mouth is dry… definitely too many Young Henrys.

You spot your phone, famously on low battery and see a text from Paul. Had to head to run club. Stay as long as u need. X

As an English major it always bothered you that Paul would use ‘u’ instead of ‘you’ but you can’t tell him that. After percolating on Paul’s use of ‘x’ at the end of his text you notice the time. 10:42am. You have ENGL2650 at 11 and you really don’t want to lose any participation marks. You contemplate grabbing an iced oat latte from Soulmates but unfortunately, time is not on your side today. Rushing past the coffee shop, you catch a glimpse of a Drew’s Jersey. Who told them about Soulmates? Annoyed but desperate to make it to Old Teachers’ College in time, you race down King Street.

Panting and sweaty you fall into your seat. Amidst all the chaos of the morning you finally have time to think about Jacob. His seat is noticeably empty next to you. You were still furious with him walking away last night, but perhaps you overreacted. The door creaks open and Jacob walks through, dipping his head to make sure he doesn’t hit it on the way in. He throws something in the bin and walks towards you. You feel yourself straighten up, ready to have your usual witty back-and-forth with Jacob when he slides into the empty seat two rows ahead of you. Is he serious? You were willing to let things go but this is how he wants to play it? You still have to do your final presentation and he’s going to make things awkward.

Class passes by slowly; you feel yourself getting more enraged as the minutes tick by. You can barely focus on Graham Norton discussing the significance of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 43 and its commentary on conventional society. All you can do is furiously chew on your spearmint Extra gum and glare at the back of Jacob’s head.

When class wraps up, Jacob is out the door in an instant. As you exit the room you throw away your gum and see a Soulmates takeaway cup at the top of the bin. Then you remember Jacob saw you leave Paul’s house. Could today get more complicated?

While several weeks ago you would have sworn the universe was playing a trick on you for all the times you ran into Jacob, now he was nowhere to be seen. Anytime you jump on the shared google doc for ENGL2650 you would catch a glimpse of Jacob’s icon before he quickly jumped off.

You text Jacob and ask him to meet you at Courtyard.

Sorry. Can’t. College Rugby.

After a week of Jacob being MIA you went from feeling guilty to irritated. How dare he make assumptions like that? He hasn’t had a chance to hear you out and has consciously chosen to ignore you. You decide that enough was enough. You made sure Jacob got to class before you and sat down in the seat next to him.

“We are going to have a chat after class today.”

Jacob doesn’t turn to look at you. “I’m sure whatever you need to talk to me about, you can talk about now.”

“Jacob, please. You’re not being fair to me.” Jacob lowers his head.

“Fine but it needs to be quick, I’m helping plan end-of-sem Drew’s formal”. You force yourself to not roll your eyes.

“That’s fine. Let’s go to Manning after class.” ***

You and Jacob sit down on the plastic chairs. Jacob is fiddling with his ring.

“Fine. I guess I’ll go first,” you say. Jacob looks at you, his whiskey coloured orbs clouded with an emotion you can’t quite read.

“I know you saw me leave Paul’s.”

“You do?”

“Yes but I am trying to tell you that there’s nothing going on there. I just went there because I missed the last train after our fight–”

“I’m so embarrassed, Y/N, about how I behaved that night. I knew I shouldn’t have walked away. That’s why I went to Soulmate, to get your iced oat latte from your favourite cafe. It was a cheap ploy to ask for your forgiveness but I thought it may be a start.”

Your chest tightens. “Really?”

Jacob begins to move his large hand towards yours, when a copy of Great Expectations lands in the middle of the table. You see Y/N written on the back.

“You can’t keep leaving your stuff like that at mine Y/N,” Paul says as he wraps his arm around yours.

What is this? Had Paul been carrying this around all week? You had seen him at the Vic on the Park for drinks after bouldering, and Wednesday trivia at the Lord Gladstone.

“She’s constantly losing her things at mine,” Paul interjects.

“Right, then. I’ll be leaving. Y/N, I think it’s best we work on our parts of the presentation separately.” Jacob gets up and leaves.

“Good riddance, hey,” Paul says as he takes over Jacob’s seat.

“What was that?”

“I don’t mean to undermine your autonomy. I just think you’d be better suited to a guy who’s more like you.”

You can feel an overdue monologue coming on. “You mean a guy like you? Paul,

Jacobina Elordina pines again.

you were the one who wanted to keep things casual. I can’t do casual. We are better as friends. You thought so too until Jacob turned up. You’ve got some grudges from school, fine. But get over it. I don’t need you acting like my white knight, I can think for myself.” You stand up and grab your book off the table.

Another week passes without Jacob. He doesn’t come to class. You know he’s still alive because you can see that he’s been working on his part of the presentation. The following week is a reading week, so you’ve had no chance to try and speak to Jacob. You begin to miss that nautical striped jersey.

After two weeks of feeling trapped in a cycle of frustration and sadness, you decide to take matters into your own hands. If Jacob won’t speak to you, then you’ll find a way to get him to at least hear you out.

You enter ABS on a mission: find Timothee Chalamet. After what feels like years of hearing future finance bros discuss their vanguard portfolios, the mop of curls enters the lecture hall.

“Bonjour, Timothee. I don’t know how much you know but –”

“I know that you hurt Jacob. I know that he cared about you and you took that for granted. You aren’t the person for him. You aren’t one of us.”

Exasperated, you reply. “I know I’ve been judgemental about colleges and I still think they are largely problematic. But I was harsh, and I guess it was easier to assume all college kids were alike. And while I don’t think that the college system - “

“Jacob is devastated, he was vulnerable and you -”

“Timothee, listen. It was a miscommunication. There is nothing going on with Paul and I... I care about Jacob.”

Timothee looks at you. You can see the thoughts processing. Then, he smiles.

“If you really care about Jacob, come to Drew’s Ball. Tell him what you told me. I have a spare ticket, my date decided to go to Byron Bay last minute.”

You hold back the scoff. If this was the only way to be in the same room with him and talk, so be it. “That would be great. Thanks Timothee.”

“Yeah, sure. Don’t expect a corsage or pictures with me though. I’ll send you through the details.” He begins to walk off.

“Oh and just so you know it’s a masquerade ball. I’ll sort out your mask.” ***

When you arrive at Drew’s, you see several well dressed and masked students, some boys responsible for the noise pollution. You hold back an eye roll, this is about Jacob. You eventually spot Timothee leaning against the sandstone wall, looking uninterested in the entire affair.

“Timothee! Bonjour,” he simply nods in response. He extends his hand, revealing a mask and you let out a breath of relief, you were worried that perhaps he would’ve picked something embarrassing. You put the mask on and follow Timothee through the grand corridors.

While your own formal had been quite luxurious, nothing could have prepared you for this. It was something out of a Gossip Girl episode. Timothee leads you to his table and there he is. Jacob. You can tell it’s him despite the mask. He sticks out from the others due to his height, placing him two heads above the rest of the people at the table.

“Bonsoir, Jacob,” Timothee waves at him.

“Timothee, I knew you’d come. Who’s this?” Jacob nods his head towards you. You take the mask off.

“Y/N!” His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t stop talking about Y/N and she kept bothering me about you. You clearly have things you need to talk about, so…” Timothee says with disinterest.

“Look I agreed to it, Jacob. We need to talk.”

“So you came to Drew’s formal! Not getting a migraine, Y/N? Any nausea? I don’t know how you are coping in a room with so many college kids.” He turns his attention back to his friends at the table. As much as you want to fall into your natural repertoire with Jacob, you know now is not the time.

The meal passes uncomfortably, you can feel Jacob’s gaze on you and whenever you look at him, he quickly shifts his eyes away. Timothee doesn’t provide much comfort, he responds to your questions with a shrug and returns to his previous conversations.

Reality starts to hit you. You are at Drew’s formal with a date who won’t talk to you. You actually do begin to feel dizzy. What are you doing? This isn’t a Jane Austen novel.

“I-I I’m going for a walk, just need some air,” you tell Timothee, who responds with his usual shrug.

You weave your way through other college kids trying to find some peace and quiet.You eventually find the tennis courts. Finally, a little reprieve. Your head is full of noise. Why did you come? Did you really think Jacob would forgive you? Are the trains still running?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a gentle voice. “Not running away, are we Y/N?” You turn and see Jacob with a small smirk on his face.

“At this moment, I’m very tempted, Jacob.” He chuckles. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to ambush you, but you weren’t talking to me. Whatever you think is going on with me and Paul, it’s not true. I promise you that and Jacob–”

“Y/N, let’s not talk about it now.”

“Please let me explain, Jacob I –”

“Y/N, I promise we can talk, it’s just I am presenting the awards. Let’s chat after that. Okay?” He gives you a crooked smile.

“Okay. I’ll be right behind you. I just need another minute.”

“Of course.” He starts to walk away. “Oh and Y/N, nice mask. You really look like you could be a college student yourself.”

“Oh please, I would absolutely not–”

“Relax, Y/N. I am just saying you look good.” He turns and exits the tennis court.

The formal section of the evening is over after Jacob presents the awards and it’s time for the dancing. You couldn’t help but smile as he spoke, he seemed so confident. You head to the bathroom for a quick touch up. You return to the main room and there is no Jacob in sight. Perhaps he’s waiting for you back at the tennis courts. You feel your heart beat faster with every step you take. The night air is cool on your skin when you step outside. You see Jacob and this time he’s not alone. It’s a girl, but you can’t recognise her from her back. Despite yourself, you stay hidden and watch the interaction. She taps Jacob on the shoulder and leans in. He leans in as well, craning his neck down to meet her. Your heart plummets. It’s Olivia Jade, his ex-girlfriend. You have seen enough. You block Jacob’s number and take the train back home. The 40 minutes give you the perfect amount of time to wallow and feel sorry for yourself.

The next week feels like a blur. Tabitha tries to take your mind off it; she takes you to BlocHaus and she tries to keep your spirits high at Glebe markets. But, you still can’t stop thinking of Jacob. You skip ENGL2650, you can’t face him. But unfortunately, another missed tutorial will affect your participation mark. So you put on your doc martens and a brave face and make your way to Old Teachers’ College, getting more nervous as you walk past the taxidermied animals lining the hallway.

You make your way into class and sit on the opposite side of the room to your usual seat. You’re early and you hold onto the small hope that Jacob may have decided to skip class. But right on time he strolls in. If he spots you, he doesn’t let it show. You try to focus on what Graham Norton is saying but you get lost in his discussion of metafictive texts. In the middle of the tutorial, Jacob goes up and quietly speaks to Graham. You try to stop yourself from spiralling. He’s not your problem anymore.

“Now, before we wrap up. Someone here wants to do something very brave,” Graham Norton begins. “Mr Elordi, will you join me at the front?”

Jacob slowly rises from his seat and makes his way over to the front, you spot his leatherbound notebook.

“I wrote this for someone, who I really care about.”

“As all great artists should!” Graham Norton interjects. Jacob gives a nervous laugh.

“It’s called Soulmate.” Jacob smiles and opens his notebook.

“In the heart of the city, where whispers entwine, Lies a café called Soulmate, so cozy and fine. With laughter and coffee, you sit in the glow, Your smile like sunshine, a soft, gentle flow.

The barista knows you, with your iced oat latte treat, In this warm little haven, our hearts skip a beat. Every sip is a promise, every glance a delight, In our favourite café, everything feels right.”

Home is where the Honi is

Kate Zhang comes home to the newspaper.

“Your home is sometimes a place you travel long and far to find.” I love this line at the end of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt. Since I filled in the form to join Honi as a reporter last year, I’ve been ready to travel to find my home.

Home is somewhere where you feel comfortable. I started writing about things I felt comfortable about: recommending video games I’ve played. I found home in online social deduction games, and other games I play with my friends across the Pacific. I found a home in Kind Words, where I have a family of strangers. We share similar worries, but also kindness to others. We were locked in our “homes” during Covid – but we can travel online to find where our hearts belong.

I found that home is my inspiration, and I wrote to share my perspectives, the things I love or resonate with. I wrote about the food and history of my home country China. I wrote about the independent supermarkets that I like. As an international student who travelled long and far to Australia, I wrote about student accommodation, scams,

transportation, and the struggles to find ideal jobs. I wanted people to listen to our stories, and build a better home for us. When I arrived late at the Student Media Conference Opening Ceremony, people were leaving the lecture room together to get some food. I met several friends — sometimes we only knew each other’s names, but the title “student journalists” tied us together. We are like a flock of birds. We fly together, and apart sometimes but it will never be forever, because we all have a dream of writing, and we encourage and accompany each other along the way.

Thanks Shake and Flirt, who led me through the way, and a special thanks to my editors Veronica and Angus. I have grown a lot better at flying just because of you.

I remember I said in the Honi application form that English is not my first language, and I was worried about how I could improve my writing. But after I joined Honi, I found that I didn’t have to worry. Writing is my thing and I’ll just do it. Let’s travel long and far to find our home.

You feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Well, colour me impressed Mr Elordi. This is what I want to see! Big round of applause”.

Once the class is done signing Jacob’s praise everyone files out. You rush out the door and make your way to the Chancellor’s Garden, you need to gather your thoughts. You sit on the bench with your eyes closed.

“Y/N,” you open your eyes and see Jacob.

“What was that?”

“You needed to know how I felt.”

“But, you and Olivia –”.

Jacob groans. “It’s not what it looked like. I know this is going to sound like a cop out but I swear, I thought she was you. She was wearing the same mask as you and one of those satin dresses. Timothee sent her out there.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He doesn’t want us together, he wanted to nip it in the bud. But Y/N, I don’t care about college or anything like that. I just… I just care about you.” He looks down at the ground.

“I am leaving college next semester, I found a sharehouse in Marrickville, one of Tabitha’s SUDS friends told me about it.”

“You’re leaving Drew’s?”

“Yes, it doesn’t make me happy. But you, you Y/N you make me happy”. Your heart flutters.

“You… you make me happy too.” You take a step towards him. You lift your head to meet his gaze.

“I am so so sorry Y/N. Meeting you has changed me, for the better. I want to be better. I want to act. I want to make new friends. Is there any way you can forgive me?”

You lean in and kiss him. It’s like fireworks.

“I forgive you.”

He smiles.

“Shall we go to the Fine Arts Library?”

“Absolutely.” He takes your hand. It looks tiny in his massive palm. You walk hand in hand towards the Fine Arts Library.

THE END.

Reflections from a retiring Honi reporter

Grace Mitchell looks back. Recently,I have found myself reflecting on my time at university. As my fiveyear Education/Arts degree comes to an end this semester, I am constantly reminiscing about the wonderful people I have met; the ideas, concepts, and skills I have learnt; the politics and failings of this institution; and the large number of Courtyard coffees I have consumed while writing an essay, report, or Honi Soit article. In a way, Honi became a home for me, a familiar space to find my voice as a student, history-lover, and writer.

Most prominently, Honi has deepened my understanding of the importance of student publications in helping students find their voice as writers. Indeed, this newspaper is a notable platform where we can express the ideas taught in tutorials or debated over lunch outside Fisher Coffee Cart to a wide and interested audience. Honi allows us to grow into fully formed writers and thinkers before we throw our graduation hat up towards the Quad’s gargoyles.

Personally, Honi dramatically helped me find my voice as a writer of Sydney women’s history, granting me the opportunity to adapt essays I spent hours researching for at Fisher into a digestible piece for all to enjoy and learn from. In fact, a Sydney women’s history piece was the first article I pitched and published for the paper. I

vividly remember the excitement that occurred when I first saw this article in print: to see not just my ideas being disseminated to a wide audience but also how the Honi editing team had so wonderfully turned my messy arial Google Doc into a stylish article complete with illustrations and a funky title. Suddenly, I was a real writer! However, the best part of writing for Honi has been feeling like part of a community in this often isolating institution; the newspaper allows us to connect with other like-minded student writers, a necessity in our increasingly fragmented society. Importantly, through this community, Honi allows us to learn from others and so transform our way of thinking. From learning about the forgotten histories told from those engravings on the lecture theatre desks in the John Woolley Building, to reading about the endangered state of cheese in our contemporary zeitgeist, Honi is arguably where I have learnt the most about the world at university. Like many of those who have come before in the paper’s almost one-hundred year history, it has been a privilege to have the opportunity to write for such a renowned and dedicated platform throughout my student life. Honi has indeed been a home for me here at USyd; this newspaper will be the thing that defines my precious student days.

President’s Report

Harrison Brennan

The President did not submit a report this week.

General Secretaries’ Report

Rose Donnelly & Daniel O’Shea

Hi Everyone,

This is our last report for the year and our last ever in the Honi Soit. It has been a fulfilling, eye opening experience that we will never forget.

I started off my Vice President term promising to advocate for the mental health of students, promising to create a more welcoming SRC that students could genuinely engage in. I also promised to work on the Voice to Parliament referendum and the operations of FoodHub. Alongside Daniel (Bowron and O’Shea) we saw a Foodbank which highlighted the cost of living crisis at USYD, with 2000 students using the service in the first part of the semester. Those number showed that our SRC has a role to play in service provision. Daniel and I firmly believe the SRC must engage with both activism and service provision in its endeavour to improve students lives.

Earlier this year, I campaigned for and hosted a panel to push for drug reform and a Drug Summit alongside my comrades Chloe Linstrom and Alexander Poirier. In an act of sheer talent in activism. The Drug Summit 2024 will go ahead on the 4-5 of December. I also hosted an event for Change the Age & End Student Poverty, two campaigns by the NUS that I hope someday soon, we see come to fruition.

We also hosted a Unions Week, (with barbecues of course) attended by Unions NSW, the Australian Services Union, the United Services Union and the Health Services Union I firmly believe student unions must communicate and work with the National Union of Students and the broader union movement. We as students can improve the lives of workers, and that starts with joining your union.

The student movement must continue to fight for a Free Palestine. Today, we cannot establish a death toll in Gaza. It is possible in the hundreds of thousands. We need to raise awareness of and practise boycott, sanction divestment (BDS), the University of Sydney must divest from weapons manufacturers driving this genocide. It is a frustrating and heartbreaking time.

Last week marked the devastating loss of the Voice to Parliament referendum. This loss will never be forgotten, and Daniel and I both pledge to continue to fight for Voice, Treaty and Truth after our time in the SRC ends.

Thank you for your confidence in us during our time in in Vice President, General Executive and now General Secretary.

I must thank my slayest, radical chicist National Labor Students and my sister

Jasmine Donnelly.

I am excited to see what the next student representative council does. I know they will make a positive impact on the USYD student body.

Thank you for everything.

Rose Donnelly and Daniel O’Shea

Vice Presidents’ Report

Deaglan Godwin & Jasmine Donnelly

Dear student body,

We have come to the end of the semester, and my last report. It’s just so crazy to think I’ve been tapping up fortnightly here for two years now, but fate would have it…

I’ve had my fair share of con-troversy in the reports section… I have subtweeted, I have mused, I have shared my poetry to the delight and disgust of all… I don’t want to let it go… it’s so hard to say goodbye.

My time on the SRC executive has been characterised by psychopaths, which some may consider me among. But it is not true. I am the realest Gensec/VP to have walked this section. During my time, I invented RADICAL-CHIC, a thought movement that countless people have been affected by, it has infused itself into campus culture with frustrating persistence. I have helped #MAKESTUPOLHOTAGAIN, seen in the election of Angus Fisher to SRC President.

Lots of people have accused me of being “unserious”, which I find offensive. I reiterate my commitment to the pillars of feminism, socialism, unionism, and democracy. As I said one time, it’s always been about bringing some irony back to the SRC. The power of Radical Chic lies in its ability to create meaning that is in conflict with the literal meaning. An ironic statement exposes a raw truth, and can also increase social literacy, which is needed for student politicians.

Radical chic is the synthesis of the possible and the now, against the probable and the past.

Radical chic is the harmonisation of pop culture and politics.

Radical chic aims to realise a sense of community.

Radical chic is equal parts witty, tragic and sarcastic.

But enough about Radical Chic. I have been led to say even this much because I know that there are many people who condemn and hate it, because they do not understand it, just as dogs always bay at strangers.

From my brief and dramatic life as a celebrity, a word on betrayal. The human creature can either degenerate (Groots) or realise his/her vocation– through moral transformation, intellectual research and ultimate perfection in the identity with the absolute reality (staying in touch with the student body). An unwillingness to embrace the new is the death of everything. I want to end this report with an invocation to the angels— my sister Rose Donnelly and I. WE WILL NEVER DIE. We will smash the ceiling. I love you USYD. We are the truth.

– Jasmine Donnelly

Ethnocultural Officers’ Report

Ravkaran Grewal & Sidra

Comrades,

As the university year comes to a close, let’s reflect on the amazing antiracist campaigns we’ve been a part of this year! ACAR is proud to have helped lead the Palestinian solidarity movement and mass mobilisation this year and will be committed to furthering them as our government and university remain complicit in Israeli aggression and genocide.

This week BDS Youth and many other SRC collectives have called for a National Week of Action for Gaza! We have a multitude of events all across the country. This Thursday join us for our “Sowing the Seeds of Resistance” workshop @ 3pm at USYD Community Gardens and our Student STRIKE on Wednesday starting at the Quad at 1pm before we march over to UTS! Finally, on Friday register for the BDS Youth webinar: No Universities Left in Gaza.

Also, the NUS Ethnocultural Conference is coming up on 30th-31st October at Western Sydney University, Kingswood campus. This serves as an opportunity for students around the nation to collaborate on anti-racist campaigns.

Over the break, ACAR will still be active and channelling its energies into supporting and organising the 2025 Invasion Day protest - we hope to see you there. We are very proud to have been your Ethnocultural officers for 2024 and are excited to see the future of ACAR.

Until liberation, Rav and Sidra.

Disabilities Officers’ Report

Victor Zhang & Khanh Tran

Hi everyone!

We wish you all the best in the coming exam diet. Over the course of the past few weeks, we’ve been busy fighting against the University’s proposals at the Academic Board and are currently in consultative workshops with the University to work out major assessment reforms that are

happening due to generative artificial intelligence. We and SUPRA will be producing a more detailed explainer to map out exactly how these proposals work.

We also recently learned that St Paul’s College has banned admission of new students who wish to live with their children. We released a formal statement expressing our condemnation and disgust at the College’s decision. The University of Sydney is also complicit in aggravating the dire straits facing parents-students by not offering any rooms to families. We are in the unenviable position of being one of the only universities in the country to not offer dedicated housing for families or students with children. St Paul’s sexism and the University’s deep apathy not only for women but families is disgusting and we will campaign in the coming weeks to challenge St Paul’s ban and the University’s lack of affordable housing for all students, including parents.

We encourage you to join us in campaigning for these changes. Much is at stake and we have a better future ahead of us if we campaign together.

Khanh and Victor (2024 Disabilities Officers)

Welfare Officers’ Report

Gerard Buttigieg, Jasmine Al Rawi, Julius Wittforth & Ellie Robertson

The Welfare Officers did not submit a report this week.

Union 2025 Summer Internship

This is a three-week paid internship at a trade union running from January 28, 2025 until February 14, 2025. Union Summer is targeted at young progressive activists who want to gain experience of what it is like to work in the union movement. Head to the Unions NSW website to access the application link. Applications close at 5 pm on Sunday, November 17 with interviews scheduled for late November. For questions contact Barsha Rai via brai@ unionsnsw.org.au or +61 2 9881 5916 or Sam Priebee at spriebee@ unionsnsw.org.au.

Tips for Navigating the Centrelink Bureaucracy

Most of your interactions with Centrelink will be online. This helps them to manage their huge workload with minimal staff but does not lead to you having a good experience or an easy time managing your payment.

Give them documents

When applying for a payment you will be required to provide them with a lot of information and documents. Your application will not usually be processed until they receive all of this, so take the time to double-check that you have submitted everything they have requested. Sometimes there are delays in processing applications, so it might be helpful for you to see if you are eligible for any of the uni’s scholarships, bursaries, or loans.

While you are on a payment there may be occasions where you are asked to provide information and documents. Carefully note the dates they give you as missing a deadline may lead to a reduction or cancellation of your payment.

It is important to note that providing false information or documentation is considered fraud and may lead to prosecution. This might not just mean a reduction or cancellation of your payment, but it might also lead to criminal charges.

Tell them everything

Report any changes in your circumstances, even if you don’t think it is relevant. This includes a change of address or living arrangements, change in study load, receiving an inheritance or scholarship, going overseas, or changes in your relationship status. Any unreported events can be used as a reason to reduce or cancel your payment.

Always report income when it is earned. It does not matter to them if you’ve been paid yet or not; it’s all about when you earn the money. If you are working while studying,

the SRC has a leaflet about how your income affects your Centrelink payment. Use this information to calculate what your payment should be and if you notice any mistakes talk to an SRC caseworker about your options.

What did you say

If you speak to a Centrelink staff member on the phone or in person, ask them for a receipt number for that conversation. Email that number to yourself together with a short description of what you discussed, so that you have your own record.

What did they say

Check your inbox regularly for messages, as it is assumed that you have read them. Respond as soon as possible to any requests to ensure that you do not miss any deadlines.

Centrelink can be difficult to deal with It’s not just you. They are difficult for everyone, starting with ridiculous wait times for telephone calls, through to onerous application processes, and hefty penalties to people who simply cannot afford it. The SRC has lots of relevant leaflets that can give you more information on a range of Centrelink issues. Usyd undergraduate students can talk to an SRC caseworker for free, independent, and confidential advice.

Additional Centrelink information: Payments for students Independence Parental income: Effect on payments Your Savings: Effect on payments Your Income: Effect on payments Relationships: Effects on payments

Need more help or advice?

If you need more advice about your specific situation contact an SRC Caseworker by completing the contact form (below) or call 9660 5222 and our reception team will complete the contact form with you.

To read the full article on Navigating Centrelink including links and resources, scan the QR code

Ask Abe

SRC Caseworker Help Q&A Procrastinatioon

Hi Abe,

I have a million things due soon, and I can’t seem to get started on any of them. Every time I sit at my desk, I find all sorts of other things to do, then I get overwhelmed with how much other stuff I have to do, and decide it’s easier to not do any of it. I hate that I haven’t been able to get anything done, and it’s really starting to get me down. What am I doing wrong?

Delayed

Hi Delayed, What you’re describing is often called procrastination. I’m sorry to hear you are experiencing this.

Please don’t think of it as being lazy or undisciplined. There is a reason you are not able to start or finish these tasks. The best thing you can do to help this situation is to speak to a counsellor. They can help you develop strategies, depending on the underlying cause of your procrastination. No matter what it is, there is no reason to feel disappointed with yourself. Book an appointment with a counsellor (e.g., the Uni’s Wellbeing team, eHeadspace, or Uplift Psychological Services) or if you have difficulty doing that, ask one of your friends to book it for you. Maybe they would go to your first session with you.

Abe

If you need help and advice from an SRC Caseworker, start an enquiry here.

bit.ly/contact-a-caseworker

If you withdraw from a subject before the last day of semester (3rd November) you will receive a DF grade. It still counts as a fail, but in many cases will not affect your WAM.

information >>>> sydney.edu.au/students/ discontinue-unit-of-study.html

Weekly quiz

1. King Charles stated that his car runs on “wine and cheese” What brand of car was it?

2. Dunhill, Gold Flake, and Mayfair are all brands of what?

3. In They Live, which item allows the protagonist to see aliens?

4. What type of gun is a ‘Beretta’?

5. Farfalle pasta resembles which fashion item?

6. This item is sold in sets of 52.

7. Which common stationary item is also the name for an adult female swam?

8. What is Australia controversially paying up to $368 billion for?

9. Rollie is slang for which luxury item?

10. What connects these answers?

Dusting off the cobwebs

Crossword

Across:

1. Initial strategy

6. Pink ___ (grocery item)

10. “___: Automata”, Action RPG of 2017

14. Erode

15. Gen Z slang added to the Scrabble dictionary this year

16. Member of an oceanic pod

17. Ménage à ___

18. Good rep

19. Macabre, say

20. Mobile home?

22. Raise, as one’s interest

23. Motown legend Martin

24. Pelts

26. Streaming service recently merged into Disney+

29. Take home?

34. Pancake of Eastern Europe

36. Tiny guitars, briefly

37. Clean air & water org.

38. Bit of computer code, say

39. Least joyous

42. “___ Enterprise”, the longest naval vessel ever built

43. Round location, in brief?

44. ___ Sea, shrinking lake formerly the world’s third-largest

45. Folklore beasts

47. Head home?

51. Like porridge or some lattes

52. Smack aftermath

53. International traveller’s concern

55. Ancient epic poem set during the Trojan War

58. Hammer home?

63. Eve proceeder

64. One online might be blue or purple

65. “Oh well…”

66. Fervent

67. Friend in France

68. Classic game character’s arch-nemesis

Down:

1. Org. against 24-across

2. Be in-character at a Renaissance Faire, say

3. Sitting on

4. Central prop in a dangerous Penn & Teller routine

5. On a voyage, say

6. Common boba tea flavour

7. Prefix for space or nautics

8. Modern fraudster’s impersonation tool

9. January - now, in brief

10. Media player’s error message, say 11. Modern-day location of the ancient Sumerian empire

12. Beige tone

13. Tool for an outdoor chore

21. Home to most people solving this puzzle, in brief

22. “And... voila!”

25. Tradies’ transports

26. Thermonuclear threat, in brief

27. Forearm bones

28. Medieval higher-up

30. Compiled version, as in video game development

31. Train stop on the Blue Mountain Line

32. Surprise tournament outcome

33. With a big bottom-end, as a mix

35. Took an X-ray, say

40. ___-B

41. Like many students’ jobs

46. “Be my guest!”

48. East African country whose capital is Kigali

49. Calls to mind

50. Zero points, in sport

54. ə

55. Islamic prayer leader

56. Zero points, in sport

57. Pupil controller

59. “Working as we speak!”

60. “Jane ___”

61. Word after space or before shape

62. Boast, as with one’s own horn

64. Kind of party popular in the late 90’s - early 00’s Answers:

69. Flat-topped geographic formation

Cigarette

Sunglasses

Pistol/Handgun

Bowtie

Playing Cards

Honi Soit, Health Issue. 1988, Issue 8.

Crossword: Michael Smith

Always Balanced Coverage

NEW CHARTER REQUIRES ALL UNIVERSITY POLICIES TO BE TITLED LIKE MAOIST ERA ECONOMIC REFORMS

CAMPUS ACCESS POLICY

PURGE THE STUDENTS OF RIGHTIST THOUGHT SIMPLE EXTENSION

RESPITE OF THE LONG MARCH ACADEMIC HONESTY

THE PLAIN-SPOKEN PEASANT AND THE THEIVING LANDLORD MANDATORY GUARDRAILS FOR AI

THE TWO GREAT RULES OF PRODUCTION

I’M GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD WITH MY ARTICLE ABOUT INNER WEST GRAFFITI

GAL GADOT ACCIDENTALLY JOINS SAG AFTER MISUNDERSTANDING ‘MILITANT, FIGHTING UNION’

NOBODY UNDERSTANDS WHATS WRONG WITH THIS GENERATION, EXCEPT ME, A WHITE GUY WHO DOES PHILOSOPHY AT USYD

“THIS IS GOING TO RUIN THE TOUR”: TELEPHONE REMIX FT. KING CHARLES & QUEEN CAMILLA TO BE RELEASED IMMINENTLY

OPEN LETTER FROM ‘HAIRDRESSERS FOR PALESTINE’: JOSH LEES, PLEASE LOSE THE MAN-BUN

OVEREAGER SRC PRESIDENT SHAVES EVERY INCH OF BODY AND TAKES AN EVERYTHING SHOWER BEFORE ACADEMIC MEETING

MAKING AMENDS: ALBO TO HOST FREE SCREENING OF US ELECTIONS AND A HOUSEWARMING PARTY IN HIS NEW CENTRAL COAST HOME