Cambridge – like much of the country – was bathed in sunshine, hot sunshine this weekend. It was that weekend when our roads are cluttered up by cars full of suitcases, assorted bulging bags and guitar cases, and with bikes attached to the roof. It would normally have been the weekend when the railway station was heaving too, except that Railtrack (presumably) decided to select this particular weekend as the one when there were no trains to and from London so that a new footbridge could be installed. This bridge will serve the additional platform that is currently being built to enable longer trains to serve the city. One hopes the consequence means trains will no longer have to lurk outside the station waiting for a platform to be vacated – to the enormous frustration of cooped-up commuters in a hurry. In due course this all sounds like it will be a marked improvement, but for the irritated undergraduates reduced to buses for the last stage of their journey, I am sure it did not feel like one this weekend.
Yes, the new academic year has arrived even in Cambridge. Freshers will have consumed vast amounts of caffeine and alcohol (do they still offer sherry at the various start of year functions for the plentiful societies, or is it tepid Chardonnay these days?) and be getting used to college food. They will have met many new faces, some of them who may be friends for life, some of whom will rapidly irritate the hell out of them when they play loud music next to their bedroom in the small hours (or conversely be the neighbours who complain about their own behaviour if guilty themselves of this act). Maybe they will be hard at work trying to network, to guess who might be a future cabinet minister or CEO of a multimillion pound business or indeed the person who will show them the light in some less academic way or other. Or maybe they will be more reclusive and just want to be able to think and be stretched by a regular diet of lectures and supervisions, once they have worked out what a supervision is. They will be trying to get to grips with when and where their lectures are, probably not helped by Directors of Studies feeling a bit lost now that the official Cambridge University Reporter containing the Lecture List is no longer produced in print form but only on the web. Even when they know where the lectures are, they still have to find them, weaving their way uncertainly around the streets on unfamiliar bicycles. There is something fairly terrifying about watching the undergraduates from Fitzwilliam and Girton speed down Castle Hill in their serried ranks at a few minutes to 9 on the first day of lectures which, logically in Cambridge, falls on a Thursday. Do they know the rules of the road? Have they checked their brakes work? There are few places where brakes really matter in Cambridge, but the crossing of Castle Street with Chesterton Road is undoubtedly one of them.
As they have walked around the city centre, unnaturally bright and hot for October, they may be misled into thinking everything they have heard about Cambridge weather coming straight from the Urals is wrong. In a few weeks they will reconsider, as icy blasts of winds face them as they battle to get to lectures on time and the wonderfully historic windows in their old-fashioned rooms rattle but do little else to prevent the cold air entering their bedrooms. They will be counting their blessings that their education is still regarded as a public good, unlike their successors who will face a much more uncertain future. I am sure my university will not be expecting to find the supply of first rate applicants drying up, but we may well expect hiccoughs over our admissions, particularly in terms of those from socio-economically deprived areas, however hard admissions tutors and others work to get the message out their our admissions policy is not weighted against them and generous bursaries really are available.
I would like to think these new undergraduates (and indeed those returning for later years’ study) will take a minute to read our response to the Government’s HE white paper. University Council has not pulled its punches. As the THE described it, Cambridge ‘savages’ the white paper, expressing dismay over various aspects. (Oxford too is quoted as savaging it, but I haven’t yet seen their response on the web). Having been at the Council meeting when the decision was taken to sign the response off, I know just how strongly we collectively feel about what the White Paper may mean for the sector; as with the statement we made in the autumn on fees, we are willing to put our views out there for all to read without waiting for an FOI, I suspect to many people’s surprise. As dons we may usually be described as eggheads living in an ivory tower, but that description would probably fit remarkably few of us, and certainly not those of us who are willing to put in the dedicated work serving on Council implies. At this point I would also like to pay tribute to those students – undergraduate and graduate – who serve with us. During the nearly 3 years I have been on Council I have been tremendously impressed by all of our student members who are so articulate and have the courage of their convictions to speak out and challenge us older folk, as well as work closely with us to do what we can to maintain our freedoms and our excellence.
Cambridge at this time of year hums with promise and promises, with excitement and expectation. Long may it continue to do so.
