Amidst Giants; A Tested Man

Since my last post I have done quite a lot. Towards the end of January I made a decision, one that would change my life formidably. I made a choice, and that choice was to run for the Presidency of the Student's Union. Although only a second year, I have been heavily involved in many areas of the union and I have more relevant experience than most of my competitors. I love working with students - this was my sole motivation.

The campaign lasted a few weeks, with the final week being active campaigning (i.e., fliers, posters, sweets and speeches). The few weeks before that were what I referred to at the time as a 'cold' campaign, in that there was little happening on the surface, but below many wheels were turning. Lobbying, pressing and rallying support is at no time an easily achievable feat - but trying to turn the tide without making waves is nigh on impossible. Nonetheless, I surrounded myself with a small but dedicated band of campaigners. They were my core support, the base from which my eventually victorious campaign would rise.

In total, I probably had more campaigners than my 4 competitors combined, I had 25 at last count, but I would never have more than 8 at any one time. I found that it was better to have more faces less often, to give the campaign a wider visual scope, than to have the same people banding the electorate for three days solid. Of all my campaigners, to all of whom I will be eternally grateful, there is one I must mention before the rest. The driving force behind the campaign, the man who picked me up when I felt most disheartened, the man who reminded me to eat when the pressure of the campaign meant that I forgot, my Campaign Director, Darren. Thanks mate.

January 31st, Hustings;
It took place in the Union club Asylum at 7.30pm. I was very nervous as there were around 150 people there, most (if not all) of whom were only there to cheer their own candidates for the eight various Sabbatical Positions up for election. It was because of that one of my competitors saw it as a bit of a waste of time, as everyone knew who they'd be voting for already. This was not the case, because although any one group may know that they were going to support their candidate for one position - they would not necessarily know who they were going to vote for in the other positions. I saw it as a vitally important chance to swing the votes of the undecided, yet passionate people present.

The five Presidential candidates went first, Harry, Myles, Me, Lee and Nat (in that order, alphabetical according to our surnames). Harry read from a piece of A4 and rarely raised his eyes from the sheet to meet those of the audience, Myles barely acknowledged his sheet which was good because it meant a lot of contact with the audience - but he did a lot of 'um'ing and 'arh'ing. Lee used index cards, as did I, the main difference being that I didn't talk about an anti-littering policy whilst dropping my used cards on the floor (perfect imagery from my point of view) and Nat used an A4 piece of paper and delivered a good, confident speech - not surprising for a Drama student. Of the four speeches, Nat's worried me the most.

Then followed three rounds of three questions per round, each candidate would have one minute to stand behind the microphone and answer all three. As fate would have it, most of the questions were related to the direct operational realities of the Union - something I appreciated more than most. For this I was most grateful, and the outcome was that I did better in the Hustings than the other candidates.

I was since told that I made a good impression at the Hustings, which was excellent for me, the downside (I later learnt) was that I was now deemed by most to be the front-runner for President, and as such I then became the main threat to each of my competitors campaigns. As good as this sounds in theory, it can be very detrimental in reality; I would have preferred to be the under-dog, but alas, this was not to be the case.

Monday February 6th, the start of Polling Week. Polling didn't actually start until the Tuesday, but Monday saw the start of active 'hot' campaigning - whereby you can go and address lectures, talk directly to students and talk about your policies. So on the Monday I spared no time as I filled my day with Lecture addresses from 9-6.

I would talk for 2 minutes in each one, the first minute was on why students should vote in general (to tackle the rising rate of student apathy), the next forty seconds were why they should vote for me and the final twenty seconds were used to reiterate why they should vote in general and then thanking them for their time. I addressed on Business Lecture of 400 people, with a microphone (most unexpected and surprisingly unsettling), after which I received a round of applause, which was a tremendous boost! I only addressed lectures on the Monday, and on that one day I spoke to over 1100 students - not bad for a day's work.

The following three days consisted of grabbing students as they walked threw the campus and convincing them firstly to vote, and then secondly to vote for me. I made a point of talking to every student I could, and using the self-patented 'humble-pie' method of being super polite whilst ensuring that I mentioned some of my many policies, so that I could 'earn the vote' of everyone I spoke to.

This intense week took over my life, so much so that the theft of my car on the Friday before bore very little relevance in the days that immediately followed - i was too concerned with winning! It paid off though, because after three days of active and exhausting campaigning, it was Election night on Thursday February 9th. A night of such mixed emotions that it made me feel physically sick. The democratic process of Single Transferable Votes was arduously long. It took almost an hour from the moment Lee was the first to be knocked out, through Harry's and Myles' evictions respectively, to the stand off between Nat and I for the Presidency. The final numbers came through.

I won with 634 votes, a mere 29 more than Nat. Just under 10% of students voted, around 1450. A record high in recent years, but still way too low for my liking. Elected by 4%, to govern 100%.

As of June 12th 2006, I will be President of Hull University Student's Union.

This is a role that will prove testing, draining and at the same time, invigorating. But more importantly it will prove to nobody more than myself, of what I am truly capable.

Keep Easy.

The Shape Of Things To Come

Fifty-one. The number of days that have passed since my post. I suppose the blog novelty kind of wore off. That and the fact that after my last sizable post (combined with lots of work) I was quietly adverse to posting anything anytime soon. So what have I done in the last seven weeks? Well despite the routine and painfully mundane I managed to work the princely sum of three days over the Christmas break, an effort which helped pay for my frantically executed Christmas shopping. I spent the last week at Uni preparing, albeit rather poorly, for the approaching exams. One of which I think I did quite well on, the other I'd rather forget.

As chance would have it, I did rather well on one of the essays I mentioned in my last post, I got a 2.1, not bad in my book for a weekends effort. However, as karma would have it, I did considerably worse on 'the other' as that essays module has now come to be known. Still, I had hoped that for my 72-hour adrenalin-fueled essay-binge, I would have received two mediocre marks, instead I received one cause for celebration and one cause for concern. The reality of my own lethargic practices bites like an-all-too-real ethic-inducing mosquito. The lofty encumbrance that is post-fact rationale is truly burdening. And in testament to that hard-learnt lesson I admit; I told me so.

The majority of my break was spent seeing friends and family. Christmas was nice and I did the rounds seeing the family around the city. New Year was fantastic because I went to Leeds with a load of mates as one of them is at uni there so we crashed at his house. We did the Ottley Road Run which was good and we ended it in a pub with a glass roof which was unexpectedly cool because it meant that we could see the fireworks at midnight. We then stayed up into the wee hours chatting about the usual benign fodder that marks no genuine significance in itself; which by it's very nature makes it the trademark of good conversations between old friends. Even though we hadn't seen each other together for weeks, even months, we talked as if not a day had passed since we were at secondary school together.

I suppose if I had the internet at home I would have maintained my blog over the holiday but as the case is I do not, so I did not. As I started uni again this week I tried to bear in mind all the reassurances I had given myself after my last chronicled escapade, regarding my 'work ethic', or lack thereof. But just as the realization of post-fact reality dawns on the mind after the event; so too does the return of haunting lethargic inhibitions. Old habits really do die a lot harder than new practices. With all this in mind, as the apathetic and the ethical battle for my better judgment, I ask myself the inevitable; is this the shape of things to come?

Keep Easy

And So At Last, Into The Palm Of The Devil

It was 11:57am. There were three minutes left between me and the deadline that had stalked me for two months. I marched into the departmental office like Neville Chamberlain; clutching my essays in my hand with a sense of victory! Although with a little less 'peace in our time' and a little more 'hernia in my side', I'd done it! After one of the most exhuastive weekends I have had since, well - this time last year, I had cleared the final hurdle. The essays were in at long last!

And it very nearly didn't happen. At 11:18am, after proof-reading and rereading and proof-rereading and reproof-reread-proof-reproofing (you get the picture), I made my way to my housemates printer to finally print off the essays that had successfully turned my whole weekend into one giant friday (and not in the good way). But, to my aghast, the pissy little thing was out of ink! And from last year's experience I knew that the Uni's computer centre would be crammed with similarly ill-prepared students. I knew that the French probably had some sort of pseudo-witty and wholly-apt proverb that applied to my plight perfectly, however the only thing I could think of was 'Bollocks'!

I ran with cause and mighty zeal to the computer shop a few streets away. Nothing would get in my way! (Except some scaffolding, a SCOPE coach and the ultimate cliché - an old woman!) I don't know what it is about old women, I never seem to notice them unless I'm A] in a rush (and they invariably get in the way) or B] I'm exposing myself in public and they're there to wag a finger! Despite this most challenging of gauntlets I had, at 11:27, arrived at the computer centre. Inside I had hoped to find the most ardent of shop-keepers sitting on a stool, patiently waiting for just one person to enter his realm so that he could (for a short while at least), escape the dreary confines of his monotonous existence by applying his full attention to them. To my surprise (and greatly out of the fashion of the last nine minutes) something had gone as I'd wished, for there was in fact such a character inside. The only problem was that, only moments before my own entry, someone else had entered the shop.

Bugger! The gauntlet continued! I immediately calculated the many variables in my head. Which was of a greater priority? My urgency in purchasing the necessary provisions, or my responsibilty as a gentleman to allow this young woman infront of me to finish her sale in her own time? Decisions, decisions. I waited silently for thirty seconds, then I began frantically assessing the shelves of ink with my fingertips. Blast - she was taking an eternity! Making the sort of insipid, pointless conversation that only young women know how to make! She was the sole focus of the shop-keeper's attention, and as such I would have to wait until this charade had played itself out. Or would I?

Then, for a split-second, Fate had smiled on me. The woman dropped her purse. As both the shop-keeper's and her own attention followed the purse to the floor I seized the oppurtunity that I had been delivered. I snatched the appropriate ink off from the shelf and as I made my way to the door I kicked the burly rump of the blonde nuisance sending her careering head-first into a mountain of Xerox! In the heat of the moment I had even spat on her unconscious head amidst a cry of 'Burn Wench Piggy!' and a Wookie-esque Wail! I left the shop with even greater pace than when I entered. To the shop-keep, whose attention lay entirely with the quadro-spazzed blonde heap on the floor, I had not existed. I covered the homeward journey with none of the hinderances I had previously faced.

By 11:35 I had the essays in my bag and I was en route to the university. My adrenalin was finally subsiding as I sat and completed the necessary forms on the floor outside the office. By the time the clock struck noon, I was sitting outside my tutorial room manically chewing on a Mars bar to replenish my sugar levels. I had once again survived the OK Correll. On my voyage home I passed the computer centre which had, by this point, been cordened-off with police tape. I was unmoved by the sight; collateral damage in my eyes.

The essays each account for 40% of their respective modules. The remaining 60% will be gained through examinations, which are due to begin in three weeks. And so it is with that stress, that I pass from the one, smaller hand into the next - the palm of the devil.

*THE AFOREMENTIONED INCIDENTS ARE BASED ON REAL EVENTS AND PERSONS. SOME CONDITIONS MAY HAVE BEEN EXAGGERATED BY THE AUTHOR FOR DRAMATIC PURPOSES*

Mutually Assured Diplomacy

Uh essays! Why do I always seem to leave it so late? I suppose I work more effectively when I'm under pressure, if only due to the lack of options available. I did this last year, and I told myself that this year would be different. Oh well, its all of my own doing. I set out to get it done and then I end up throwing more time into other commitments.
Ah politics, she truly is the most frigid of wenches. She takes up so much time and effort just to merely understand, and then just as you think you know her a little better what do you get in return? A headache and a lower sense of respect in your fellow man! Sometimes I think I'd rather do a degree in music, or art, something alot less fickle and alot more expressive. Although it must be said that once you have mastered a certain topic you get a real sense of achievement. For a short time its like you've finally found your footing and you really know the world a bit, and then it goes and turns again.
One day and 2,500 words down, two days and 2,500 words to go. We're still a very long way from Kansas.

Keep Easy

In Nog We Trust

Hmmm, how to begin? I'm not entirely sure. Although I'm fairly certain that its probably not the best idea to start with a question. Why make a blog? To be honest I don't know (how many people asks themselves that on their first blog?). Some of my friends have blogs and at a time when I should really be doing work I thought it a more abounding use of my time to venture into something new. Well what about me? You'll be surprised to know that I am, in fact, a student (albeit not a very studious one)! Yep, another student with little better to do than create a blog! It seems as though there is little I can say to follow that which would not appear to be a cliché. Except that. And that. And this.

Enough! Attention must be paid to the work that should at this moment be at hand!

Until next time, keep easy.