Learn To change the world

Profile: Caroline Murphy Racette (2018, Classics)

Caroline is in her final year studying Classics at Somerville. She is also Captain of the Oxford University Fencing team, which is currently ranked #1 in the UK. Here she tells us more about her sporting life, her studies and volunteering at the Ashmolean (as well as the all-important Varsity match).

Why did you apply to Somerville for Classics?
I didn’t actually apply to Somerville; I applied to Brasenose and was pooled here. That being said, Somerville has a great Classics program. We have an in-house literature specialist, ancient historian, ancient philosopher, and archaeologist, who can help students pursue whatever interests they would like.

Has anything surprised you about Oxford/Somerville/your course?
I’ve been really surprised about how Oxford has helped me develop as a thinker. The tutorial system is great for encouraging students to think more flexibly and come up with creative ways of approaching different topics.

What do you do outside of your studies?
Outside my degree, I captain and compete on the university fencing team and am a Choral Scholar for Somerville’s choir. I have also been volunteering with the Ashmolean for the past two years; my projects have included researching and selecting museum items for online posts, enhancing the accessibility of the Ashmolean’s online gallery and information, and giving presentations on items from the Ashmolean’s Cast Gallery. I have also participated in two archaeological digs through the University; one of them was led by Somerville’s archaeologist, Professor Charlotte Potts.

How does it feel to have taken Oxford to the top of the league in fencing, and how did you achieve such an amazing result?
It feels great! I’m captain this year, which is extremely rewarding, as I am able to help my teammates thrive as fencers. I’m also anchoring one of our weapons, sabre, which means I fence last in our relay, so the pressure is on! Being captain is challenging because I have to make difficult strategic decisions to ensure we are successful, and we’re all working so hard to catch up from a year without fencing due to COVID. So far, we’ve had an unprecedented year; not only are we ranked #1 in the UK, but we are also the only sport at Oxford that is in the Premier league for their sport and has been undefeated in all competitions this year, undefeated in the league, and holds a position at the top of the league.

Right now, we’re focusing on preparing for our Varsity match against Cambridge in March and on doing well in the BUCS playoffs, so it’s been a pretty busy term! Varsity is a match held against Cambridge; every university sport at Oxford has one, and fencing Varsity match has been held every year since 1907 (except in 2021 because of the COVID). While it doesn’t count toward our national rankings, it’s always the most charged match of our season, given that the traditional rivalry runs so deep. Oxford’s women have won every year for the past few years, so we’re working hard to defend our title. My team’s ultimate goal for this term is to do well enough to get Blues; we would have to both win the Varsity match and finish top 4 in the UK. We achieved this my first and second years, so want to maintain our position as a leading fencing team in the UK.

What would you like freshers to know about fencing?
I would encourage freshers to try fencing out, even if they have never done it before! Oxford has a robust beginners’ program with excellent coaching opportunities, and there are many novice tournaments across the UK that can help people gain competition experience. The most important thing is to be persistent and resilient; fencing is unusual in that it takes years to become even
decent. It took me years of coming last at every competition before I started seeing good results.

Do you have any comforting words or words of wisdom for interview candidates?
Don’t worry even if you think it’s not going well! I didn’t think my interview at Somerville went great, but I still got in.

Overcoming Imposter Syndrome

by Ellie Newman (2019, MSt Classical Archaeology)

My pre-university education was unexceptional. I attended a state secondary school and a local sixth-form college and, although I thoroughly enjoyed my time there, it’s fair to say that attending Oxford wasn’t even a consideration for most of us (myself included). So, when I found myself with a place for postgraduate study at Oxford, I was extremely proud. I knew I had worked hard at my previous university and felt I deserved this wonderful opportunity to continue my studies. Upon arrival in Oxford, though, I felt like I was walking in a dream that I would wake up from at any moment. I was living a lie and I was going to get caught. Was my application really accepted, or was it a mistake? Am I as smart as everyone else here? Can they see that I don’t belong?

This feeling is often called Imposter Syndrome, which can manifest itself in response to many different aspects of a person’s identity, all of which are valid. For instance, I feel academic Imposter Syndrome as a result of my schooling experience, but it can be sparked in response to a person’s class, race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, physical and mental wellbeing, and more. It can be smothering, but it’s important to know that you’re not alone. The reality is that this feeling of being an outsider is so very common at Oxford. And while it can be overwhelming, there are ways to manage it. So, with hopes that they may be helpful to others, here are 5 tips that have helped my own feelings of Imposter Syndrome.

1. Try not to compare yourself to others.
This is much easier said than done. You’re bound to come across people who like to brag about themselves, which can spark feelings of inferiority. In these situations, it’s important to remember that you’ve both made it to Oxford, you both deserve to be here, and that you aren’t in competition with each other. It’s also important to remember that Oxford students come from all kinds of backgrounds, and not everyone has had the same life experiences or privileges. Yet we’ve all made it here, and that’s something to celebrate.

2. Remember that no one can know everything.
My supervisor recently asked me an unexpected question about my research. Much to my horror, I didn’t have an answer. I expected for him to tell me that I’m useless and to question why I had been accepted in the first place. Instead, his response was “I don’t know either, I was hoping you would tell me.” No one comes into the academic world knowing everything. Even the top professor in your department will have areas of expertise and areas of unfamiliarity. We come to university to learn and so there’s no shame in doing so, even if you’re starting from scratch.

3. Find a balance.
Whether in your department, in college, or in societies, get as involved as you like. All these places are great for meeting like-minded people, and you can really make friends for life in Oxford. However, don’t feel pressure to get involved if you don’t want to. It can be easy to get carried away, which can result in you neglecting your personal welfare or your studies. This can exacerbate feelings of Imposter Syndrome, and so it’s important to find a balance.

4. For every person that you don’t like, there are 10 that you will.
This may be a bit pessimistic, but in a place like Oxford it’s unlikely that you will be friends with everyone you meet. And that’s okay. Just remember that the beauty of a place so diverse is that there are going to be people who think similarly to yourself. Some of the best friendships you make might even be with people completely different to yourself. So, if you come across someone you don’t like, remember that they are just one person and for every person that you don’t like, there are 10 that you will.

5. Look after yourself.
This is the most important. If you struggle with Imposter Syndrome, reach out to someone. Your tutor/supervisor, your friends, the University/College welfare teams, all these people are here to listen and provide different forms of support. There’s no shame in speaking up and admitting that you need help. Prioritise your own wellbeing above anything else. And always remember, you aren’t alone.

Perks of being in the Somerville Choir

by Finlay Dove (2018, Music)

Being part of the College Choir may seem a bit strange to the majority of Somervillians. Whether it be gathering en masse in Terrace (dressed entirely in black), performing unusual contemporary music in the middle of formals, or running towards the chapel at 17:14 on a Thursday (to avoid the penalty for lateness; humiliation via music theory test), the people in Somerville Choir are all at least slightly eccentric. However, after three wonderful years of membership, I’d like to present three reasons as to why being in the choir is one of the best decisions a Somervillian can make during their short time at the college.

1. Choral contemplation

Being part of Somerville Choir is centred around the weekly Choral Contemplation events, which take place every Sunday evening. Our chapel is unique in having no religious affiliation, providing a welcoming space to students of all faiths and none. This enables the choir to perform a limitless variety of music, spotlighting under-recognised composers from across the world alongside more standard choral repertoire. In combining music, poetry and talks by guest speakers, Choral Contemplation always provides a thought-provoking experience.

2. The social side

The musical opportunities of being in Somerville choir are complemented by an equally enjoyable social experience. Its close-knit atmosphere has produced countless great memories over the last three years, including some wild formals, unlikely international adventures and our intensely average campaign in the Oxford Choir Football competition. There’s something about singing together that builds unique relationships. I’ve made some of my best friends through the choir, and I know the sense of community will stick with me post-graduation.

3. New musical experiences

 The choir performs in a wide variety of contexts beyond our weekly rehearsals and contemplation events. Particular favourites of mine include a joint concert with the Basin Street Brawlers (a 1920s/30s hot jazz group), a magical carol concert in the Savoy Chapel of Westminster and our tour to India in December 2018. Going to India was a truly fantastic experience, as we explored Mumbai and Goa whilst performing to large and appreciative audiences. Even during the pandemic, we’ve held music appreciation sessions on Zoom, which have included a quiz on ‘90s hip hop, a presentation from an expert voice doctor, and a conversation with a Kenyan traditional musician.

4. Daddy Dawes

Will Dawes (our director) does an incredible job in fashioning a musical experience that is both top-quality and enjoyable for all members. For me, this was epitomised in our 2020 performance of Bach’s St. John Passion. Despite the length and demanding nature of the piece, Will broke it down and used masterclasses to make learning it an enjoyable experience. His ability to successfully balance serious musical performance with the pressures of an Oxford degree is incredibly valuable, in addition to his careful selection of music from composers of a range of nationalities and gender/sexual identities. 

5. More than just singing

In sum, being part of Somerville Choir is not your typical Oxford choral experience. I would encourage anyone to have a go and audition – who knows where it might take you!

In Defence of Downtime

by Katie Bastiman (2016, French and Italian, MSt Modern Languages)

When I arrived in Somerville as a fresher in 2016, I realised quickly that I was going to have to handle my work-life balance very carefully.

I knew from the start that Oxford would be stressful and would push me further as a student than I had been pushed before, and so I decided from day one that my priority was to remain happy and healthy during my time here. I worked hard, but my number one focus was always to keep my life as balanced as possible. Five years later, I am very pleased that I made that call so early on. 

Oxford is always going to throw challenges at you, be they academic, emotional, or otherwise. And it sounds obvious, but the more energy you can put in to keeping things balanced, the better equipped you will be to handle those challenges. Everyone works differently, but for me at least, I really need to be in a good headspace to do my best work.

Taking some time out to relax is just as productive as writing that essay or learning that vocab. If I let myself get too tired, or don’t take enough breaks, suddenly every little hurdle in my work feels insurmountable. Taking a more balanced approach isn’t just helpful for my overall productivity, but (more importantly) it helps me to enjoy my degree more and feel happy in what I’m doing. 

It can be very easy to get swept up in the ‘Oxford bubble’ and to forget that it isn’t actually normal to be studying all day every day. It is really valuable to take little breaks to get some fresh air or see your friends, and it’s also important to know and respect your own limits. Studying from home for most of this year, I found that without all of the socials and the fun of normal university life, I worked best when I took weekends off.

That is never something I would have considered implementing in my undergrad days – at that point, I found I worked best when I could spread my work over all seven days of the week rather than condensing into five and then taking two off. When I was working from home, though, I needed that time off to look forward to during the week and to let me unwind and think about other things for a day or two. It’s not a strict rule – sometimes I get an hour or two of work done on a Sunday, or more if I have a deadline looming – but it has helped me to maintain a feeling of control and balance.  

The period of time in which I relied most on downtime in my time at Oxford so far has been my finals. I finished my undergrad degree in the summer of 2020, so I was at home living with my family at the time. My dad and I got into a routine of playing video games together (Breath of the Wild, mostly) for a few hours every evening. I would do enough work during the day to feel like I’d accomplished something, and then switch off and just relax into the escapism.

Being taken out of Oxford for my finals is never something I would have wanted, but being back home made it easier to resist falling into the mindset so common among Oxford students – that there aren’t enough hours in the day, that work comes before everything else, that you have to make sacrifices to get the results you want.

There are enough hours in the day, for work and for relaxation, too. Work does not come before your health and happiness. And you are more likely to get the results you want by taking care of yourself and investing in your own wellbeing.

Katie Bastiman

20 Things I learned from 2020

by Pippa Gleave (2018, DPhil Pharmacology)

2020 was no ordinary year. In between finding out during the holidays that it might be a long time before we got to come back to Somerville – twice – and having to get used to all-new ways of doing even the most basic academic and social tasks, there was plenty to get to grips with.

But amongst all the challenges, I also learned a lot more than I expected. Here’s 20 things I took away from last year:

1. How to dance in a tiny space

Lockdown led to dance teachers all over transferring their classes to Zoom and modifying their classes for participants who were short on space. Ever since I returned to Somerville in July as the first lockdown drew to a close, I had to battle with my room’s very wonky carpeted floor. However, I still managed (despite falling out of even simple steps) and my dance classes were a saving grace throughout the year that brought me a lot of joy. 

2. How to be on my own

Being alone doesn’t mean loneliness. After getting very ill when I started my Master’s degree at a new university 4 hours from home, knowing no one, I found being on my own difficult. I finally made peace with myself in lockdown and found lots of things I enjoyed doing in my own time, like painting. 

(Side note – I really could have done with Oxford’s collegiate system when I did my Master’s. It is excellent for graduate students who may otherwise only get to know their supervisor/research group.)

3. I am an extrovert

I always thought I was introverted, but it turns out that I am a highly sensitive person and an extrovert. I get energy from socialising, but only when I feel comfortable; and I am easily overstimulated. When I mentioned this revelation to some of my friends at Somerville they looked at me incredulously. Apparently, I come across as very extroverted.

4. Ditching fast fashion

My 2020 resolution was to not buy any “new” clothes, only second-hand clothes, unless I really needed something and was unable to find it elsewhere. I stuck to it, gaining a new wardrobe of pre-loved clothes. 

5. Making my own clothes

I caught the sewing bug in April, got my mom’s old sewing machine fixed and have been learning dressmaking ever since. It’s been great for my mental health and work/life separation when working from home. I also got a wellbeing grant from Somerville’s MCR towards my sewing efforts. 

6. My need for nature

Nature helps me feel peaceful and relaxed, gives me a change of scene and somewhere to go. I really notice how I feel when I haven’t left the house all day. Being so close to Port Meadow and University Parks at Somerville, as well as having the college green spaces, is very helpful. 

7. Having outdoor space is a privilege

When we all were told to stay at home I was already back at my parents’ house. They are fortunate to have a lovely garden, but sadly far too many people have no outdoor space at all. Access to green space is often linked to income and the pandemic has made this clear what a privilege this is. 

8. Quizzes make group zooms more fun

Zooms require a lot of energy and there is no natural flow of conversation. Quizzes really helped make my family Zooms less painful! 

9. Learning a new (sign) language

My mom has suffered from glue ear her entire life thanks to dodgy eustacian tubes. When lockdown hit, she decided my family would all learn BSL to make her deaf periods more bearable for her. I can’t claim any fluency yet, but I think it is a skill we all should lean. 

10. How to say goodbye

My beloved neighbour, Bob Hill, passed away on the 31st of March 2020 from covid-19. I met him when I was 3 by singing to him across the road when he was working in his garden, and was a regular visitor until I went to university. 

11. Getting through when my illness flares up

I entered 2020 during a flare up of my autoimmune disease/chronic illness. This took months to bring back under control with medication. I was well versed with pacing, but pacing is hard when you have no idea how much physical and mental energy you’ll have on any given day. I gradually got my capacity back and found that the next point is key:

12. I need food, specifically enough protein 

Ever heard of hanger? I had more than that. If I didn’t eat enough or regularly I would sometimes collapse, a lovely shade of grey. Chicken broth (Jewish penicillin, as my mom says) was a lifesaver. 

13. Baking treats I can eat 

I’ve found that various foods trigger my autoimmune flares and I went on an elimination diet to identify said triggers. Finding and making recipes that suited me was a lot of fun and reduced my feelings of missing out. 

14. How to express my emotions in a healthy way

I was dealing with a lot of pain and anger from the beginning of 2020. I wasn’t letting myself express it and so it was coming out in unhealthy ways. Thankfully, with help, I identified triggers, did a lot of processing and work on expression, and grew to understand myself and how my emotions worked. 

15. My value is not determined by my productivity 

I struggled a lot with feeling like I had to use my free time well. I had to learn to ignore my over-ambitious ideas and perfectionism to acknowledge that downtime is essential to wellbeing. 

16. Routine keeps you sane

With the blurring of home and work, it became difficult to know which day was which. Routines helped to define the day, helped with productivity and my expectations. 

17. Flexible working is almost always possible 

Being chronically ill myself, I’m aware of many chronically ill/disabled people who have been denied flexible working for years, making the workplace inaccessible for some. I’m hopeful that from now on accessibility will be at the forefront of workplaces. 

18. I cherish my independence 

Being stuck for an undetermined time at my parents’ house after not having lived with them full time for 5+ years was … interesting. It was nice to be looked after when I was unwell, but I felt like I had no space of my own and no independence and it was stifling. 

19. People communicate in different ways 

To my slight frustration, I found that some of my good friends were difficult to converse with using messaging, and never wanted to video chat. It didn’t mean anything about our friendship, they just didn’t communicate well that way. Once I saw them again in person it was like we’d never been apart. 

20. You cannot control others 

From frustration at people flagrantly disobeying rules to stop the spread of covid-19, to anxiety at others walking too close to me, I learned that I can’t control them, only how I allow them to affect my feelings. 

20 Things I learned from 2020

by Autumn Clarke (2020, English)

April is Care Experienced History Month. Don’t worry if you haven’t heard of it. Despite having been brought up in care since the age of 13, I hadn’t heard of it either until this past year.

For many years, my only reference point for the experience of fostered children in the UK was, like most people, the CBBC series Tracey Beaker, based on the books by Jaqueline Wilson. What better phrase is there to describe the perpetual self-censorship undertaken by young, fostered individuals than ‘It’s just hay fever!’ I myself never told any of my friends or peers at school that I was fostered.

Not telling anyone at school I was fostered meant that, for years, I lived a double life. So many excuses were made for the times senior members of staff had to pull me out of class to have private discussions about how things were going at home. Meanwhile, the fact that I excelled academically at school only served to preserve the illusion that I was, by some miracle, unscathed by the events that led me into care and my experience in care thereafter – none of which could have been further from the truth.

Living a double life is lonely. When you’re fostered, it’s also, very often, shameful. I carried the stigma of my adverse life experiences wherever I went. As a teenager I grew up feeling as though I was essentially “the last man standing” in my family; that it was down to me to break the unhealthy patterns of behaviour or ways of life if I was to move forward and have a chance of having a loving family and successful life of my own.

This narrative is all too common for fostered and estranged children. Often, they carry the trauma with them into later life with crippling effects on their relationships and prospects. Many are thrust out of care as soon as they turn eighteen, with very little hope for the future. Only recently did government legislation come to mandate the new term ‘Former Relevant Child’ for ex-foster children. I suppose the label makes it easier to categorise levels of concern for young people who have travelled through the care system. But when does anyone’s childhood become “formerly relevant?” Especially not the childhood of someone who was previously fostered.

Many people are kind when they learn about these experiences. In my case, Annie Sutherland, my personal tutor here at Somerville, has been unbelievably supportive – not least by letting me take her lovely dog, Betsy, out for therapeutic walks when I’ve been struggling to weather the turbulence of an Oxford degree! However, one thing I’ve come to realise over time is that, for all the people who are kind, most people don’t know how to react, respond or help a person who might still be in emotional trouble from these traumatic experiences.

To those people, I would say try not to avoid these difficult topics, but instead embrace them. Though remembering the past is extremely painful for care leavers, there is nothing more powerful or guaranteed to help than finding someone who is willing to act as a guide through those memories when they arise.

Memory is so important to care leavers. Though we struggled in many ways, something I remember so strongly from my early childhood is the determination of my mum in ensuring she kept a memory box. I remember it so vividly: it was a violet-coloured box covered in Disney princesses that had previously been the container for a television. It was a bit impractical (it was very large and had no handles), but it was important. In there were hundreds of bits of ephemera from my childhood – all those silly paintings that children do, and videos of me wobbling around the living room as a toddler. And yet, when we had to move and I transitioned into care, it was lost.

Thanks to the determination of my mum to preserve whatever she could, I do still have several photos of us all together from when I was little. But the fact that my own memory box was lost – the fact that I lost that physical manifestation of memory just as so much else was being lost – is what convinces me of the importance of remembering.

So I may not have heard of Care Experienced History Month before now. But I know I’ll remember it next year and in years to come. I hope you might, too.

Autumn Clarke, in a childhood photo preserved by her mum.

Reflections of a Young Carer

By Holly Cobb (2021, French and Linguistics)

My life to date has been shaped indelibly by my experiences as a young carer. So when I got my place at Oxford, it seemed natural to me that the first thing I should do was google ‘Oxford University carers’. Full of nerves, of hope as well as guilt, I was anxious to see what support might be out there if I accepted the offer, and how that part of my identity might find expression.

Unfortunately, Google didn’t seem to understand the question. ‘Did you mean “Oxford university careers”?’ the search machine asked, before serving up 2.5 million search results on just that topic.

Sadly, this experience is not an isolated one. Indeed, the term ‘young carer’ is often unfamiliar not just to search engines, but many of the people one meets. When you explain what it means, people tend to look blank, or awkward. Some respond with pity, while others seem hardly able to imagine such worlds exist.

It doesn’t help that the scale and diversity of experiences encompassed by the label is so vast. Legally, a young carer is defined as “a person under 18 who provides or intends to provide care for another person.” Most often, a young carer is someone who helps another family member with a mental or physical illness, a drug or alcohol dependency, or a disability, by providing a mixture of practical and emotional support usually expected of an adult.

However, the reality is much more complicated than this. According to The Children’s Society, there are at least 800,000 young carers in the UK alone – but the true number is likely to be a great deal higher. Most young carers do not know that they are carers, or do not see what they do as unusual; many are involved in household tasks and personal care from as young as five. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that they don’t see tasks such as administering medication, ringing the doctors, helping a family member get dressed, as well as acts of less easily defined emotional support, as anything unusual.

Taking on these kinds of responsibility from an early age can foster close familial relationships and lead to higher levels of emotional intelligence from a young age – but it comes at a heavy cost. Young carers regularly report higher levels of stress and low mood because of their caring role. On average, they achieve an average of one grade lower at GCSE than their peers, who are less likely to take time off school or dedicate as much time to helping around the house. Some studies report that over 13,000 young carers are spending over 50 hours-a-week caring, on top of schoolwork.

Holly catching up with Somerville College’s Access and Inreach Officer, Orlá Lavery

Under such circumstances, it’s hardly surprising that many young carers never even consider higher education; they simply cannot imagine how their families would cope without them. Schools and universities are often unaware of the extra burden facing young carers, so their needs are rarely considered. In terms of widening participation criteria, young carers are often missed out, despite the link between being a young carer and identifying with other socioeconomic markers of disadvantage.

Happily, the situation is changing: many schemes and programmes for young carers across the country are becoming much more well established. Within Somerville, our wonderful Access and Inreach Support Officer Órla is very keen to recognise and celebrate young carers and young adult carers.

As for my own story, I am one of the lucky ones. After discovering the concept of a “young carer” for the first time during a school assembly at the age of 14, I, and other young carers in my school, were offered a constant network of support through youth groups, respite trips, and access to 1:1 project workers. Most importantly, we had a community who truly understood what it was like to have a sibling seriously ill in hospital, a parent who may not get out of bed every morning, or a daily routine involving everything from administering medication to discussions about upcoming hospital appointments, meltdowns, seizures, and so much more. Whilst I love my family, accessing this support was, quite literally, life-changing for me.

Coming to university has made me much more reflective. In moving here, I have been forced to truly confront my own identity, and to question how much I was, or am anymore, defined by my caring role. What was and is still strange to me, is the realisation that for the first time, I am forging an identity for myself entirely divorced from being a young carer, from being known as “my sibling’s sibling”.

Yet, even as this new self gradually emerges, I am conscious of still being different. While my peers ring home to catch up each week, I ring home to discuss hospital appointments, general health, the level of independence my sibling will have, and where I fit into that. I cherish both my upbringing and my time in Oxford, but sometimes they seem to be entirely separate lives, and I often feel a sense of guilt about the detachment I am able to have from the day-to-day stresses I know my family is constantly facing.

In acknowledging this inner conflict, I try to reframe my guilt as gratitude; I remind myself how lucky I am to have the opportunity to live and study here, and that I was not stopped from applying because of my caring by any self-imposed or practical barriers. I would also like to think that, while my experience can in no way compare to that of someone with lived experience of disability, I can perhaps be more empathetic and more attuned to inequalities that disabled people face, than I might have been had I not been exposed to this growing up.

I now volunteer for the same charity that identified and supported me for so many years, helping at some of the very same groups from which I benefitted. I see my younger self in so many of the young people attending, and I can only hope that one day they are able to plan their futures just as I once did, just as their peers do without thinking.

Finally, I would like to say to anyone reading this for whom this story resonates, even if only slightly: you are seen and you are heard. No matter how big or small your caring role, no matter whether you were the primary or secondary carer, whether you cared for one or multiple people, whether you were a carer for your whole childhood or just a small part, or whether you have even considered yourself a “carer” at all; please know that the invisible work you do, may that be practical or emotional, is not insignificant. If you think any of this applies to you, or would like to discuss any of this, I would always love to chat and listen to your experience: carers care for others, but do not always have someone who cares for them.

Holly practising for Dancesport Cuppers on the Somerville College quad with Keziah Carlier (2021, Experimental Psychology), April 2022.