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that identified monuments that represented Britain’s imperial past and demanded they be removed.

The most public display of this resistance was shown in the public’s removal and decimation of the Edward Colston Statue as he was known to have been a member of the Royal African Company which led him to trade tens of thousands of slaves. This symbolised the decolonisation of the streets of Britain that then led to many other institutions also being willing to purge themselves of the colonial remnants that remained within their system in an effort to try and combat the racism that had been present in them for so long. We have seen this in educational institutions, like universities and businesses as well as workplaces. In these areas, although it is not an easy task, decolonisation theoretically will lead to improvement but for institutions like Museums, especially British Museums, decolonisation is a loaded endeavour that requires a lot of contemplation before a pathway is forged.

Many museums have artefacts from all around the world, the British Museum itself containing a multitude of different country’s artefacts. The vital question that presents itself when looking at the vast collections from former colonies that exist in the British Museum, is whether we should be allowed to keep these given the circumstances they have been taken under. The reality of the situation is that many of these artefacts were taken when colonies were still under imperial British rule, so the level of consent that was given is questionable at best and non-existent at worst. To many people, the withholding of these artefacts from their countries of origin to this day shows a refusal to acknowledge and make amends for Britain’s colonial past. A past that snatched away the opportunity for millions of people to have a rich and beautiful past of their own.

Why Can’t I Be a Fairy, Miss Smith?

MOLLY AINLEY | CONTENT WRITER

‘What do you want to be when you are older?’, would be asked when we were only five. Like a song stuck in your head, we sang it over and over until our brains would hurt. ‘I do not know’, we quietly reply. Of course, at that age the world is so big you wish to do anything and all of it: the scary and the bad. We felt invincible, like superman. Source: Wikimedia Commons An effort is now being made to further the repatriation of artefacts – return them to their nations of origins - but only in France where President Emmanuel Macron called for a change in law recommending all African works that were taken illegally to be returned to their respective nations. The British Museum remains silent on returning the many colonial era objects that are still behind its doors. However, while repatriation is a process that is yet to be engaged in widely, other ways to educate people about the reality of artefacts within the museum have been underway and even welcomed by the British Museum specifically. Alice Procter’s Uncomfortable Arts Tours started in June 2017 and invites the small groups she takes to question the history and origin of objects and images as well notions of Britain’s empirical past in relation to them. Alice stated that she has never been stopped by the museum, and a recent statement released by the museums association with regards to decolonization indicates that it supports any effort to educate people on the real past of object and works, which seems like a step in the right direction. But is it enough?

As I grow, I wish we had never been asked. The pressure and the realisation we must decide is terrifying because what if I changed my mind? I thought that my uncertainty would be a flaw, that if I did not decide in that singular moment my life would forever be doomed. I now realise that I have friends who will have said vet but currently do art. Likewise, I have friends who said art that currently do science. They are all alright.

From the age of five, we face challenges, and sadness, and excitement, and inspiration which moulds our dreams. As said by Katie Martin, “Early messages about what is valued and what is accepted in both family and in social circles are translated by reactions to this question” (Martin, 2017), the simple question becomes an everlasting dialogue between society and child; a need to choose a ‘good’ career. In the last decade, it has become clear that pressure, from any young age, is dangerous for mental health and selfesteem, yet there is pressure over what we will be before we can even spell career. I like to change my answer even now (got to keep my Grandparents on their toes; ‘will she change her mind or will she not?’). The point is, you do not have to decide. Why should our joy be dependent on what we want to be when we are children? Can my goal not be happiness and love and success? I would love to be a teacher or a writer, but I am at peace with that evolving. Source: Drawn by Hannah Nevis, 19, the illustration is her take on the discussed ideas. As an artist doing fine art she has experienced judgement for her future plans, and feels a level of frustration towards the question of what she wants to be, and the false reality that everyone will have ‘stereotypical’ jobs.

I do not think five-year-old me would have foreseen me as a member of The Founder, and she definitely would not have seen me at Royal Holloway, University of London. But she also did not like quavers, so she is not the smartest.

It is okay to not know where you are going, contrary to many teachers who told me I should. I think the feeling of being a little bit lost is okay because you are enabled to explore options. In conclusion, ‘What do you want to be when you are older?’ should become a bad phrase and I think our five-year-old selves would be proud. There is an enchantment in letting yourself figure it out.

Oh, and Miss Smith never did tell me why being a fairy is not realistic.

A Cornerstone of Free Speech

Source: Wikimedia Commons

RUBY EASTON | CONTENT WRITER

In 399 BC at the trial of Socrates, he announced, “'If you offered to let me off this time on condition I am not any longer to speak my mind... I should say to you, ‘Men of Athens, I shall obey the Gods rather than you.’". This resounding defence of free speech has since echoed through the centuries, and, some may argue, finds itself consolidated in a corner of Hyde Park known as Speaker’s Corner.

If you were looking for an opportunity to get up on a soapbox, this is the place to venture, although it is wise to only begin speaking if you are prepared for the intense scrutiny of the British public. Speaker’s Corner is less so a marketplace of ideas than a row of stubborn screaming matches a vast majority of the time. The site makes for a great place of entertainment, awash with religious zealots of multiple faiths promoting the truths contained in their respective religious texts; conspiracy theorists; and the occasional drifting sceptics who meander between groups to point and laugh.

This is not to say that this meeting place is merely a crosssection of lunatics, despite this being its common reputation today. Those that stand there do so in good company, frequenters of the corner included Karl Marx, George Orwell, Vladimir Lenin, and Walter Rodney, all orators of great ideas.

Protests at the treatment of the working class erupted from this same place where you may now be accosted for receiving a vaccine and allowing the Government to ‘track you’. In 1855, discussions of the Sunday Trading Bill resulted in what Marx (fairly hopefully) described as "the beginning of the English revolution", public riots rampaging through London all stemming from the unfettered conversation. If you wander here, however, do not assume you will be able to quietly fade into the peanut gallery. It is difficult to remain an observer. Stepping into the arena gives people an open invitation to approach, question, and convert you to their heart’s content, be prepared for the jumble of free speech to hit you at full force.

Today, Speaker’s Corner is not viewed with the reverence that you would expect for the so-called ‘oldest living free-speech platform in the world’. In fact, most reviews of the place denounce it as a meeting point for the religious to reaffirm their ideas in groups rather than feel themselves being challenged. Often back and forth slogan chanting can be witnessed in an endless cycle of Christianity versus Islam, although, the productivity of a place like this is itself up for debate.

Nevertheless, if you want to try your hand at a spirited debate, if you wish to practise your public speaking skills, or you simply want to speak your mind (as loudly as you possibly can), there is a place for you in Hyde Park.

The Mundane Moments

SELA MUSA | FEATURES EDITOR

As the days of September unfold at a not-too-fast and nottoo-slow pace, everything the month entails and all its associations await, the images becoming less and less blurred as each day rolls over. It is the romanticising of life, the Tumblr pictures of coffee cups and turtlenecks, fineliners and days that get dark quickly, nights out, and rainy days in bed hearing the noises of housemates through the door as they make their food in the kitchen.

I am looking forward to it. I have the twinge of curiosity of what the first couple of months will hold that I think is very difficult not to have. I am intrigued about what the modules I picked will offer to me and I like having a routine, so I am looking forward to that too. I am grateful that I can have the organisation of doing my own food shops again. The mundanity.

But summer passed so quickly and I feel unsettled. I feel unsettled because I know that my notes will only be neat for the first few days. I feel unsettled because there is so much to do in the week and every time I tick off everything on my to-do list it just starts from the beginning again. I want to have time to read what I want to read but I know that I will not. Even if I did, I would just feel guilty for not using the time to read course material anyway.

I am unsettled because there are so many motions and I am afraid of getting caught in them, and I am unsettled because I worry that the lockdown days of last year have tainted my bedroom and I will be unable to depart from those associations. I want to have all the fun times and I know that I will, but I also want good grades and I want to be able to read a set reading and not be counting how many pages are left. I know that it is about balance and that I will find it, but it is not really about that.

I think, above all, I am unsettled because once it begins there is no way to stop it. The days will roll over so elegantly into weeks and months, and I will always just be waiting for that lecture to be done, oblivious to the fact that the time is so subtly floating away. Nights out will blend into hungover days and having one day out just means cramming work into the next one. The routine cannot be paused for a breath, and I find that a strange concept to comprehend. I want the time to see people from home and to facetime my mum and to do new things with my housemates, and I want the time to stay updated with the news because so many bad things are happening each day. I want to write a good dissertation. I want to be able to not wish a moment away, always anticipating the next one, and I want to escape the mentality that I just need to get that done and then things will be better. I feel unsettled because it is my final year and I know that when it is over I can only long for it, and I feel unsettled because I know that yet there is still nothing I can do about it.

Source: Sela Musa, Pictures of My Garden