It was a strange couple of days.  I came back from my beloved Anam Cara Writing Retreat where for over a week I was blissfully unaware of anything except my work, the work of my friends, and the incredible cold.  Here are a few photos I took of the surrounding landscape of the Beara Peninsula, which is where the retreat is located, on the southwestern most point of Ireland.

I then came back to London and the student demonstrations.  I have found this to be an especially tricky issue for me, one which I can’t completely unravel from my own past.  I grew up in the US in the 70’s when student demonstrations were the primary force for change in my deeply troubled country.  It was the efforts of the students that helped bring about civil rights and a first attempt at racial equality, and it was the student demonstrations which helped force the end of the Vietnam War.  I deeply believe in a citizen’s right to demonstrate, and I also believe that it is, in some ways, part of the learning experience of the university student to find a cause and find his/her way of standing up for it.  And so I am instinctively drawn to the side of the students.  But I don’t believe in violent action.  I don’t believe that violence ever moves an argument forward. I can never support a violent demonstration.  Then there is the added difficulty of my understanding that the universities are going bankrupt.  There’s no use ensuring access for all to a university education if there are no longer any universities worth going to.  The reality is that it costs a great deal of money to keep universities open and to provide them with facilities in keeping with the needs of our changing world.  As someone who went to private university in America and is now sending a child to a private university in America, I can’t help but find myself thinking that Brits don’t know what expensive is. But there is the problem of the recent campaign’s broken promises and the breaking of a social contract — things that don’t apply to the American paradigm. But I don’t really want to get into this argument now.  What I want to discuss is that in the midst of all this, I found myself at the End of Year Party for the Asian Department of SOAS (the fantastic School of Oriental and African Studies).  I was there to talk about “A Clash of Innocents” and show some of the photographs by the kids of Anjali House.
       The event was originally going to be held in one of the larger assembly rooms.  But that room was still under a student occupation, so it was moved to a much smaller conference room.  At first I was concerned — would I somehow have to cross a barricade, would I be doing something that might go against my belief in a student’s right to protest?  But of course not.  Despite the deep sense of solidarity among the students and professors at the event, and their disappointed worried comments, everyone was there doing what they as students were there to do in the first place, namely meet and talk with people of similar interests and celebrate the efforts they are making in pursuing their education. Despite a week of extreme turmoil, the students were all still there being, well, students, and it gave me hope.  Education is both a right and a privilege.  It is something worth fighting for, but also worth working and sacrificing for.  Many of these students will now have to work harder than they had originally thought in order to get the education they deserve.  But as we all know, the harder we work for something the more we appreciate it. It’s a difficult and tricky situation. I think Nick Clegg’s face says it all:



thanks to Baroque in Hackney for this photo.