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Meet the FBL Student Experience Assistant Team – Kayleigh
My name is Kayleigh, and I am one of the Student Experience Assistants (SEAs) for the Faculty of Business and Law at UON.
I graduated from UON in 2024 with a BA in Psychology with Criminology, and alongside this role I have just started a Master of Research degree. I also work in mental health for the NHS at the weekends. My academic and professional interests are largely around peer support, diversity and inclusion; particularly around the value of lived and living experience, forensic mental health, and neuroscience.
I came to UON in 2021 as a mature student having worked and volunteered within various forensic mental health settings, and I assumed this would be the area I went back into when I finished my degree, but now I’m not so sure… Despite a lot of adversity, university was overall a hugely positive and pivotal experience for me and so I am currently exploring a more academic path. I have a lot of experience to call upon and to share and I’m hopeful that I can support you so that your time at university is positive too.
I am here to support both students and staff in the Faculty of Business and Law by meeting with teams to identify their needs and ensuring students get the right help. As a recent UON graduate, I understand the challenges you might be facing and can offer guidance, connect you with the right people, or just have an informal chat. I have been assigned to support Criminal Justice Studies and Strategy & International Business teams, but support to students is not necessarily limited to these subjects. You can reach out to any of the SEAs for help.
Contact the team at fblseat@northampton.ac.uk, or me directly at kayleigh.willis@northampton.ac.uk. We also hold a drop-in outside LH201, Monday to Friday, 10am-4pm, no booking needed.
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Welcome to the University: How can I help you?
In recent years, and to be more specific, ever since universities were forced to introduce fees, a wider discussion emerged regarding what the Universities are for. The fees changed the nature of education and from a right, it became a privilege. The choice of going to Higher Education [HE] to improve oneself was combined with what the universities can offer to make their education “value for money”! This of course had to be done in line with consumer policy and practice. That led to a shift from educational principles to commercial concerns. Changing the process from what universities do, to what they can offer for their prospective students. Talking consumer law and setting thing up to align with what we can offer, not what students can achieve. This led to a fierce competition in the sector about which university offers the greatest value for money.
“Come to our university, we have nice buildings”, “come to us we have nicer laptops”, “no, come to us we have fabulous sports facilities” “no please come to us we will take you away on great trips”. Although telling students what to expect and how this is offered is great, it does miss the fundamental principle of what a university is! Universities evolved from philosophical academies that posed questions about the world. The participants engaged in dialogue that challenged their perspectives and viewpoints. Out of their works our collective understanding on nature and the world, was and is still, being shaped.
A university is an annex of learning. It covers a wide variety of disciplines and provides opportunities for advancing education locally, nationally and internationally. Academics who teach are experts in their field, having undergone a long educational process themselves. The people who come to the university to learn, are adults, the majority still young adults, who wish to develop their skills and advance their education to the highest level. The last point is the most poignant when it comes to Higher Education. It builds up learning experience together with hard and soft skills on academic writing and articulation, advancing disciplinary knowledge and a profound understanding of self; “a know thyself” moment.
The services offered pale into comparison with what students can really acquire from a university education. No amount of consumer products can replace the insight and of course the transformative nature of Higher Education. A number of helpful services are a great addition to the educational experience, and I am forever grateful to the hard work to all of our colleagues in students’ services and other administrative services that makes our lives, and the lives of the students so much better, but they are not the main reason why so many come through the doors of HE. The university has its place in education and what it does is already clear. It gives people the opportunity for employment and personal advancement, and that is great, but what it really does is to be transformative. People get time to consider things they may have never thought before and discuss them with people who have spent a considerable time in studying them.
As this week marks the start of the academic year and we are all happy welcoming our students, I would like to remind everyone that Higher Education is not a passive process but an active one that allows each participant to interact with and to interrogate the materials and ideas they are presented with. Whilst some students influenced by a consumer mentality may be asking what I am getting, this may not be a satisfactory question because each person wants different things, but we all aspire to improve ourselves in the process. So to paraphrase a US president: “Ask not what your University can do for you – ask what you can do for your University studies”.
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Starting a new school year
What makes university unique?
Unlike school, students make the choice to come to university. What’s more, it is often a student’s first-time experiencing independence from caregivers, e.g. outside the purview of their own parents. For many, this may mean learning how to shop, cook, budget, clean and take care of their own stuff. This is an entirely new series of decisions leading to the person you will become. Never shy away from seeking help, support and advice, and use every resource at hand, including and especially people.
Build relationships. You will undoubtedly be tempted to spend lots of time on your digital devices – alone – but this will most certainly lead you down a dark path towards isolation, loneliness and the false feeling of control. Instead, accept that you must fashion a new independent self. Who are you outside your caregivers/parent’s home? Put the phone down and give yourself a fighting chance to find out!
Find kinship beyond superficial similarities, and sow the seeds for happiness in your new environment. At our university, the biggest mistake I’ve consistently seen students make is failing to create community here. Often, for example, UK-based students are anxious to spend the weekend at home with their parents or school friends. International students may either indulge in regional tourism, indulge their homesickness, and/or only seek to build relationships within their own ethno-linguistic group. Again, this all feeds a false sense of control.
This mirrors my experiences at Hanoi University of Science and Technology, where I taught during my sabbatical year in Vietnam (see featured image). There, I had to not only learn from my students how to navigate the local environment, but crucially, learn local classroom norms from both them and colleagues so that I could teach more effectively.
With that said: Build relationships right here through the university community. Join a club, explore and develop your interests and cultivate support networks. These may overlap or be three different ventures. If you work, then find employment that anchors you here in Northampton. Use every job experience as A) An opportunity to improve your communication skills, and B) As building blocks towards your own goals.
Within the first few weeks of starting university 30 years ago, I met a student who quickly became my best friend. He came from a country I couldn’t have pointed out on a map, was from a different religion, and studied something far from my own interests. As our friendship blossomed, we easily discovered that we had far more in common than not, which in turn fed my own curiosity and confidence to get to know more about this planet we all call home. Even though he’s passed away, our friendship still sustains me to this day (Rest in Power, dear Numair).
On the mentor/disciple relationship between students and teachers
At university, there is no separation between staff/students, adults/youth like in school. Please find opportunities to develop mentor/mentee relationships with your tutors*. Find a tutor with whom you can share your new world and reflect upon your growth. Ask them exactly what excellence looks like in their classroom and on assessments so you can foster the right study skills.
Yes, find mentors and become one, too! Learn from others who are further along the journey you now tread. At the same time, find ways to work with youth to inspire those who follow your path. This not only develops your own confidence and communication skills, but collectively contributes to a vibrant university community.
As someone who has studied and practiced Buddhism my whole life, I am convinced that what we give, we get in return. Cultivate a spirit of generosity and feed your own open-mindedness. This support and tolerance will be returned to you ten-fold.
*hooks, bell (2003). Teaching Community: A pedagogy of hope. New York ; Routledge.
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Ain’t Nobody Never Muted No Gadget BEFORE No Class!
The cyber-lure and lull in class.
The solutions are simple, though the problem is grand and manifests in many micro ways; it’s so common that it’s difficult to see. Digital distraction looms over classrooms like a heavy fog.
You see them ensnared by invisible threads, blocking hallways and doorways, halted as they stand, transfixed and feverishly glued to their phones. Many arrive with restless fingers tapping away on these small screens. Others make a beeline for the nearest socket upon entering the classroom, clutching chargers and cables like lifelines. Some arrive engrossed in video calls – often on speakers – their faces illuminated by the glow of their screens. Still, others refuse to dislodge and stash their earbuds; perhaps they are simply unaware or incapable? Few arrive untethered from the grasp of cyberspace, their connection to reality tenuous at best. Throughout the session, the anxious behaviours rarely subside, as I witness them struggling to break free from the digital embrace clearly holding them captive.
Upon arrival, most students sit and place their phone right on the desk in front of them, ready to escape into cyberspace at a moment’s notice. Then, come the laptops and tablets. Most have two gadgets or more – including smartwatches – anything to shield them from being here, and anchor them there in cyberspace. A larger part of the educator’s role now is to reach: S T R E T C H into cyberspace and teach students how to anchor themselves here IRL.
Ain’t nobody never muted no gadget BEFORE no class!
Arriving in class, they are poised and prepped by social media for distraction, and entertainingly so. Through hours of rehearsal, they get to pay attention to whatever they want with a mere swipe. This applies to messaging, social media and news, dating family and group chats, spam emails and university announcements. The F2F classroom environment is competing with all this lure of the cyberworld. In spite of this daily evidence, folks still feel we’re in charge of the focus of our own attention, according to psychologist Prof Sherry Turkle. Worse, all this constant craving and distraction is diminishing our capacity for empathy.
Once distracted, UNESCO reports that “it can take students up to 20 minutes to refocus on what they were learning” according to one study. Subsequent studies have confirmed the attention lull, as have bans on phones in schools. A 2018 study found “More frequent use of digital media may be associated with development of ADHD symptoms.” When students arrive at university classrooms, it’s a blur.
Despite our initial hopes, the pull of the wholistic virtual environment has ultimately pushed away F2F dialogue. What’s more, the passive attention paid to social media creates a deficit in our conversation skills. We easily get caught up in the loop of reporting and responding to ‘what google said.’ In Teaching Critical Thinking, bell hooks says smashingly: “we are living in a culture in which many people lack the basic skills of communication because they spend most of their time being passive consumers of information” (44). Like a group of friends out for a night using google reviews to dictate every step, too often conversation in the classroom is reduced to trading ‘what google said’. Little attention is given to who said what and, why. Or, less so, what one thinks.
A low tech class.
While there are endless Apps, and gadgets to get students involved in learning, the few hours spent in any face-to-face session can be a respite from such hyper-cyber-immersion.
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Welcome to class. What’s your name?
Often when I ask my newest students to introduce themselves in class – to say and hear their names called out loud – I am reminded that this part of the classroom experience is a fresh opening-up of the classroom as a learning space. I share my full name and invite students to address me as they please. First-year university students often arrive with the weight of their own names – and identities – from their school days. There are often unseen wounds, perhaps unknown. They often arrive in “our” classrooms primed to refashion their own professional personae. A great introduction is their most important networking tool.
On the first day of second grade at my new school, our teacher said my name was so complicated that she nicknamed me by my initials, D.K., which I was called until I decided otherwise. That happened precisely, and abruptly, in the summer between middle and high school, culminating in September 1989. I remember begging my aunt to take me to the music store so I could buy the new Rhythm Nation 1814 cassette.
By then, most of us had attended this same, small school the whole time, so we all knew one another well. I decided to return as a high schooler, and asked folks to call me Diepiriye, no longer D.K. All did, seamlessly.
What’s more, when we’d have a substitute teacher, several of my classmates would yell out my name when they stumbled in taking the roster. They’d always stumble. I’d memorised the roster early on in elementary school; I knew I came between J. King and M. Love. I’d wait.
Caldwell, Cannon, Cummings, Dunbar, Eubanks, Friedman, Gage, Howard (getting closer). While waiting for my name, I’d even write sentences in my mind’s eye using the last names of the kids sandwiching mine – King, Kuku, Love. I could see our names lined-up on the printed page, put together in this order – for years – by the hands of fate. I’d manoeuvre the words around in space, hear how they fit together differently, or in phrases. Stevie Wonder would have a field day with these three words.
I wouldn’t understand this until decades later, but this is one of the typical sorts of imagination that comes along with dyslexia. It’s not just that we mix-up letters and words, rather, our imaginations are less fixed to any simple meaning like in neurotypical people’s minds. Love, King Kuku could have many deeper endings than last names, depending on how you see it. I’m depending on you to use your imagination, here, too. Depending on how you see it, the ship is free, or it is sinking.
McConnell, McGimsey, Montgomery, O’Neil, Palma, Palmer…Todd, Trimmer… Watkins, Welsch, Williams.
It seemed like all but I and one of my classmates’ last names were not English (or Anglicised). Not only that, both our two dads were actually from Nigeria, and our were mothers were best friends from college. Not only that, both our parents grew up on the east and west sides of their respective communities/countries. While I have a funny African name – according to kids – my friend had a Christian first name, and his last name is recognisably Yoruba.
Of course, there was never any civil war between the east and west ends of Louisville, Kentucky – both had black ghettos. Also, both our mothers had ‘desegregated’ every classroom they’d ever entered since elementary in that era’s culture wars. Kids were placed on the frontlines of that war, as author Toni Morrison was quick to remind us.
Both our dads had ended up in America on government scholarships at the University of Louisville, in the aftermath of the chaos of the Nigerian Civil War, albeit through radically differing paths. My dad was a Biafran child soldier. His mother rescued him from a camp, and whisked him out of the country. She named me.
Now, as an educator, I hold the roster. Today, in the UK, roster power is even tied to enforcing national borders. Also of critical value, students’ names will be called many times in class: Called upon to read or respond to text; comment on images; offer perspective or analysis; share lived experience; and crucially, pose critical questions to instructors and peers. The classroom is a busy place.
Call me by my Name.
Too often, in the business of running the classroom, we may overlook simply honouring one another by name, to make the effort to call, recall, and call upon one another in the learning space. As educators, we are called upon to continually demonstrate good practice, shows of good faith.
Everyone uses nicknames in the American South, and uniquely at my school, we called our teachers by their first names. This was one of many ways our ‘liberal’ school broke away from traditional power hierarchies. My second-grade teacher gave me a nickname as a way to shield myself, so I could enter and participate in the learning community untethered. I used this shield until I was strong enough to fly in my own right/light.
University students are in the unique position of fashioning their authentic professional selves. Our students need space to practice calling their names as they wish to be called, professionally. We can share our own curiosity with the stories of all our names, yes, even when we have to be reminded a million times. Yes, even when they have funny African names like Doctor Kuku. Yes, it’s also the proverbial ‘you’re a name not a number’. Sharing is the ethos of community… and crucially, learning. Call me by my Name.
It’s not just my ‘magination, but, we’ve all seen someone respond to an unfamiliar name with the ugly, squished-up face. No one should have their name responded to with what looks like disgust, let alone a child…let alone any student, at any level, in any learning community.
Calling students by name is an important first step in building trust. “Trust,” bell hooks reminds us in Conflict, the 15th the 32 short chapters of her Engaged Pedagogy guide, Teaching Critical Thinking, “must be cultivated in the classroom if there is to be open dialectical exchange and positive dissent.” Trust provides space for students to allow themselves to be known.
Trust also reifies mutual respect. In turn, mutual respect forms the needed basis for the rigorous inquiry, discussion, and crucially, dissent and debate which enlivens and enriches each collective learning experience.
As Badu says: I think y’ betta call Tyrone. Call him! And tell him c’mon … let his voice be heard in class. Call Keisha, Tasha, Joanne, Sian, and Jo, Joey, Joachim, Jane, Paul, Precious, Jean-Paul, Ali, Aliyah, Amadou, Kalliah and Khalil … all of “they and them,” too. And, teachers, let students know stories of your name, too. For example, I wasn’t born Dr. Kuku, but now you can certainly call me by my name!
Pictured here during my first year at college. A high school classmate & I honouring Lyman T. Johnson, a civil rights leader/educator we’d interviewed for our 12th grade oral history project.
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The True Crime Genre and Me
I have always enjoyed the true crime genre, I enjoyed the who dunnit aspect that the genre feeds into, I also enjoyed “learning” about these crimes, and why people committed them. I grew up with an avid interest in homicide, and the genre as a result. So, studying criminology felt like it was the best path for me. Throughout the three years, this interest has stayed with me, resulting in me writing my dissertation on how the true crime genre presents homicide cases, and how this presentation influences people’s engagement with the genre and homicides in general.
With this being my main interest within the field of criminology, it was natural that True Crime and Other Fictions (CRI1006) module in first year caught my attention. This module showed me that my interest can be applied to the wider study of criminology, and that the genre does extend into different areas of media and has been around for many years. Although this module only lasted the year, and not many other modules- at least of the ones that I took- allowed me to continue exploring this area, the other modules taught me the skills I would need to explore the true crime genre by myself. Something- in hindsight- I much prefer.
I continued to engage with the wider true crime genre in a different way than I did before studying criminology- using the new skills I had learnt. Watching inaccurate and insensitive true crime dramas on Netflix, watching YouTubers doing their makeup whilst talking about the torture of a young girl, podcasts about a tragic loss a family suffered intercut with cheery adverts. This acts as a small snapshot of what the genre is really like, whereas when I originally engaged with it, it was simple retellings of a range of cases, each portrayed in slightly different ways- but each as entertaining as the next. To me, I think this is where the genre begins to fall apart, when the creators see what they are producing as entertainment, with characters, rather than retellings of real-life events, that affects real people.
Having spent so much time engaging with the genre and having the skills and outlook that comes with studying criminology, you can’t help but to be critical of the genre, and what you are watching. You begin to look at the reasoning behind why the creators of this content choose to present it in such ways, why they skip out on key pieces of information. It all makes a bit more sense. Its just entertainment. A sensationalist retelling of tragic events.
Although studying criminology may have ruined how I enjoy my favourite genre of media, it also taught me so many skills, and allowed me to develop my understating in an area I’ve always been interested in. These skills can be applied in any area, and I think that is the biggest take away from my degree. Considering I now work as the Vice President of Welfare at the Students Union– and getting some odd looks when I say what my degree was- I have no regrets. Even if I walk away from my time at university and never use the knowledge I gained from my studies, I can walk away and know that my time was not wasted, as the skills I have learnt can be applied to whatever I do moving forward.
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Navigating Clearing: What’s next?
Today marks the second day of clearing at our prestigious University of Northampton. Firstly, I’d like to congratulate those who have secured a place in the university to study their dream course, and to other applicants that are currently navigating their way through clearing, I wish you the best of luck.
Clearing may seem quite overwhelming – many of us have been there – but as you may know, it provides an alternative route for first-time applicants, those who may have missed out on offers, and those that may have missed their required grades or other reasons. For those at this stage, this blog is to provide some tips on how you can make the most of clearing:
- First, try not to panic if you have not met the grade threshold. Panic will only cause more anxiety – so relax. Remember, clearing offers plenty of opportunities – so when you make that call – ask as many questions as possible. Remember the saying, closed mouths don’t get fed. Ask for your options, think it through before you decide, and ensure a plan B.
- Make sure to have done your research about the course you are applying for. Demonstrate enthusiasm, passion, and motivation for the course during your interview (if any). Look at the university websites and academic staff profiles to see what they offer and where graduate testimonies are.
- I’m sure this is no news to you – but remember that popular courses like Criminology, Psychology, Law and others fill up fast through clearing. Wake up early, get on the call queue and maximise your choices. The admissions team at the University of Northampton is one of the quickest when it comes to processing applicants’ offers. These emails are sent within an hour after you have made your call – so ensure to set up email alerts so you don’t miss communications.
- You may find it beneficial to keep an open mind about other courses. This is so because you don’t get disappointed if you don’t get a place on your desired course or if what you are looking for is not for you after speaking to an academic. Again, ask questions.
- As I pointed out earlier, the university website should be your first call, where you will find all the necessary information regarding clearing. On the website, there is lots of support available – so make the most out of it.
- Generally, clearing often turns into a great university experience. Focus on the opportunity ahead; your effort will pay off with time, and don’t give up if your first plans don’t work out. Remain optimistic, be thorough, and embrace this next step towards your future.
Remember that the transition into higher education takes time and adjustment. Overcoming obstacles will build resilience. Progress may feel slow, but your growth is constant. Embrace uncertainty, connect with others, and take chances. By doing so, you will gain skills, knowledge, memories, and relationships to last a lifetime. Your adventure begins now – enjoy it!
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Reflecting on Research Access
I am currently undertaking a part-time PhD and, as part of my qualitative research project, I need to keep a reflexivity diary, reflecting on my own position in relation to the subjects of my research. My first entry reflects on the process of negotiating access, and I thought it might make an interesting subject for a criminology blog!
As a reflexive qualitative researcher it is important constantly to reflect on my own position in relation to my research and my participants. I am about to start collecting data but only after a very lengthy process of negotiating access (12 months). This process was one in which my own position and history had a significant influence.
For my first project, I am conducting detailed qualitative interviews with serving prisoners. This required approval from the HMPPS National Research Committee (NRC). As a former HMPPS employee, I thought that my inside knowledge would be helpful – indeed at a later stage, in negotiating access to specific prisons, I think it has been. However, at the stage of submitting my application for national approval my prior experience added emotional baggage.
I worked for the Prison Service for nearly 12 years. I really enjoyed working with prisoners and I also enjoyed the camaraderie of working within the tight community of a prison. I worked with some lovely individuals who were dedicated to helping people and who supported me personally in my career. However, the Prison Service is a large, unwieldy organisation and large unwieldy organisations do not always treat individuals well. There were several times in my career when I felt that the organisation had treated me badly: when a recruitment freeze was introduced just after I passed the assessment centre so that I was stuck in limbo without a permanent job; when the in-house MSc was abolished (with no replacement) just before I was due to start it; when I ended up taking on my boss’ responsibilities as well as my own with no promotion or increase in pay; when my request to work part-time after maternity leave was declined; when my post was put on the “surplus list” during a phase of job cuts. It was not all negative – as I say, I enjoyed the work very much, I was proud to be a prison psychologist and there were times when the organisation was good to me (I eventually had a different distance learning MSc funded by the Prison Service, and I was able to take a 12 month career break following my maternity leave) but those negative incidents felt like personal insults when I was working hard. The biggest kick in the teeth came more recently in 2020 when I applied to re-join HMPPS when my tenure on the Parole Board came to an end. I had an unremarkable remote interview and was then turned down. I knew that HMPPS advertised for qualified psychologists every month, so there were plenty of vacancies – that they didn’t want me when I knew I was a good psychologist and had already given them the best years of my career really hurt.
Since then, I have started my PhD and secured a great job with St Andrew’s Healthcare which suits me better and has taken me in a new direction. The memory of the rejection was still lingering, however, when my initial research application to the HMPPS NRC was rejected. I felt like they were kicking me in the teeth again. My initial application was for a piece of research with both a quantitative and a qualitative element. The feedback in relation to the quantitative project was so devastating that I scrapped this part of the research altogether and focused on the qualitative part only. To be fair, the feedback was justified and the re-written proposal is for a much more methodologically sound piece of research, but it still felt personal at the time.
Conducting research during a pandemic is not easy. By the time I had responded to the NRC feedback and was ready to re-submit, there was a resurgence in COVID-19 cases and the NRC were not accepting any further applications. I was advised not to re-submit until applications were being accepted again, otherwise I would have been rejected with no chance to re-submit again. This caused a three-month delay and I had to chase to find out when applications re-opened. When I finally re-submitted, my application was not rejected, but I did receive a long list of requests for further information. Some of these seemed very petty. Responding to them was a significant piece of work and the sense of personal rejection and being made to jump through hoops returned. I was very grateful to one of my supervisors who read my responses before I submitted them and helped to remove the irritation that was evident!
Having submitted the answers to these further questions I waited for ages for a reply. By this stage, I was on first name terms with the reviewer on the NRC. She had sent my application for further feedback from the HMPPS Interventions Team (one of whom I had worked closely with in the past). I was given further questions to answer (which seemed to miss the point of what I was trying to achieve). I tried my hardest to remain positive and to suppress the irritation. HMPPS had the power and were entitled to it. They had every right to reject my research application. Just because I had been a good employee in the past, did not oblige them to give me research access. I resigned myself to receiving a final rejection and started to think of other ways to explore my research questions. And as I reached this point of acceptance, I finally received a positive response saying that my application had been accepted!
Since then, things have moved quickly. I revised my University ethics application in the light of all the amendments I had made following the HMPPS feedback and this was quickly approved. I approached individual prisons for specific access and received positive responses from HMP Grendon and HMP Onley – in these cases possibly reaping the benefits of personal connections from my time in the Prison Service. I will be going into HMP Grendon in early January to start to recruit participants. I no longer work for HMPPS or for the Parole Board, but my status as a Forensic Psychologist and as a former HMPPS employee and Parole Board member will have an influence on my relationships with participants. They will have had experiences with psychologists (and may have had experiences with the Parole Board) which may be positive or negative and which may facilitate or hinder trust in me as a researcher. I will need to look out for these influences and reflect on them as the research progresses.
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What to do with my criminology?
Let’s arrange time and set out two temporal constants: point one: a random meeting now and another one about three years later! The first one occurs during a standard University Open Day; a young person coming to a session to hear about criminology; they have seen crime programmes, read crime fiction, bought some real crime literature and now they feel fascinated. There is an interest there; what happens next? Why did they do it? How did they do it? Many questions and even more ideas of what to do to those who do horrible things. The Open Day is not just a response to singular identities, in fact it takes these curiosities and turns them on their head. Crime is bigger and smaller; its is more and less and, of course, most importantly is socially constructed, meaning that is does not mean the same thing across time and space.
This first encounter, was interesting, informative, and on the way home generated more questions and more curiosities. It is the first step to a decision to come back to read the subject, to get involved studying the course material and engaging in discussions. Suddenly the crime programme seems artificial; it does not explore social realities; the methods employed are too expensive and the investigation timeframe random. Knowledge is constructed on information but challenging the source of that information becomes the tool of academic exploration. Reading the crime novel or exploring true crime literature is not simply a guilty pleasure, it is a means to get narratives to ascertain cultural dominance and to address crime prioritisation (you wish to know more…then join us!).
Point two: an event sometime after the three years; a graduation. Wearing a gown and taking pictures with family and friends. A recognition that three years of study have come to a successful conclusion. The curiosity remains; there are still a lot of questions to ponder but now there is a difference in how this takes hold. The concept of crime becomes complex, interconnected with social and personal experience, but this is just the beginning. Studies haven’t answered the original questions, in fact they have added more questions, but they have given a “methodology of thought”. A process to relate to any situation that is known or unknown and explore the criminology within.
The completion of studies inevitably bring the issue of what to do next. How to use criminology; professionally, educationally, academically. As a social science, criminology contains plenty of theoretical perspectives and those relate to the lived experience and in many ways explain it or even predict future criminalities. Some decades ago, criminological imagination, considered cyber justice as a model of swift resolution, international justice was seen as the tool to prevent conflict and global crisis. Suffice to say that neither worked. Criminologists are more than keen to explain why neither of these work.
At both points we have been there; we saw you struggle at first to set the question, to consider the merit of the argument. We also saw you growing in confidence and writing work that you never thought you would, but most importantly to consider perspectives never thought of before. Your criminology is a tool; an instrument to understand social realities, when people are at their worst. To observe, study, analyse and explain crime without judgment or bias. Your criminology is a tool to let you join those groups that will ask “what about the human rights” that will consider “what is the value in this rehabilitation” that will advocate the objections for those people who are deprived a voice and for you to give them space. It is not always easy working with people who are kept locked up for the protection of others but it is in that point that your criminology lights up their lives. When all others give up and when the systems seem not to be working and when all seems so hopeless, your criminology will give hope and clarity to those who need it.
From a small personal curiosity, this is not a simple journey, but it is definitely one worth taking and now that you finish, you take with you that mindset and the professional obligation to carry it further. It’s your voice and the way you articulate it; it’s your appreciation of the complexity and these are invaluable skills to carry with you. From us, all we have to say now is…Happy journeys.
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“Over-policed and under-protected”- School children and policing: some criminological discussions
During the first week of Semester 2, the Criminology team put on a number of small sessions designed around topic areas to encourage some ‘radical’ discussion. Topic areas were designed to deliberately encourage debate and critical consideration. Due to the increasing use of police in schools, and relatively recent (within the past few years) issues around police stop and search in schools, disproportionately being used in schools with a majority Black and Brown cohort, often framed as ‘urban’ schools: it is an area of great interest for both Stephanie and myself. We were expecting some lively discussions around whether the Police should be in schools, and if so, in what capacity: and whilst the students did not disappoint in relation to this matter, they also raised some excellent points around the policing of school children and the control the school forces upon them. It is this area of the discussions that I would like to share with you.
Policing as a form of social control, exerted by schools, not necessarily the Police force, is rife within schools: something the students were quick to draw attention to. This was raised in relation to the policing of Black children’s hair. They are told to alter their appearances based on white standards, have been sent home for not conforming to the school dress code, sent to the back of classrooms for having distracting hair: in both primary and secondary school settings. This power over Black children’s hair, stands in contrast to the idea that children have no say over their hair, and are held to white westernised standards, yet can be held criminally responsible and subject to the force of the law as they are recognised as mature enough to understand crime and its consequences.
This baffling, controlling narrative is also evident in the use of school uniforms. Students raised the inappropriateness of some of the school uniforms in relation to the length of skirts, banning trainers, and piercings, which was a method of control which removed all sense of individuality and identity. It was recognised that children are encouraged to ‘grow up’ and ‘mature’ and ‘figure out’ what they want to do, but they had the methods of exploring this, especially in relation to their identity, restricted and policed. The limited autonomy over hair, clothes, piercings and children’s bodies stands in stark contrast to the legal discourse of children being criminally responsible at the age of 10years old in England and Wales. This was baffling to us!
A further way of policing students in school was through the surveillance the schools exerted over children. The use of CCTV, fingerprints as a method of purchasing lunch was originally considered as a form of security: the all seeing eye of big brother, oops sorry the school, and the attempt to reduce bullying by removing the carrying of cash was originally framed as a way of protecting children. However, the students were very critical of whether this surveillance was intended as protection, or rather as control. The idea of being deterred from delinquency through the use of CCTV, and preventing bullying by removing the possibility of money was considered, but again this refers back to the controlling of children’s behaviour.
There isn’t enough space to include all areas of the 2 hour discussion, and the time flew by quickly as the students and staff lost themselves in considering the role police play in schools, and the role schools play in policing children. The session concluded with us considering the school as an institution and whether its primary role was that of education, or of the creation of obedient bodies. I won’t tell you where we settled, but it is worth a ponder…
With thanks to all those who attended and stimulated the critical discussions around over-policed and under-protected: school children and policing: Gloria, Lucy, Kayode, Uche, Christivie, Joseph, Rosemary, Katya, Kayleigh, Chrissy, Diamante, Shola-Renee, Ellie, Sarah, Zoe, Stephanie and Jessica.
Thoughts from the criminology team 