on students for a free, free Palestine

i.

I’ve been a student of the University of Melbourne for a cumulative total of six years and counting. I was a student at the Parkville campus before all the construction works at University Square began — kids these days have never even glimpsed an unobstructed Grattan St — and will likely still be one when the new train station finally opens. From 2016 to 2026-ish, I will have spent a decade tied to this institution, with three expensive sheets of paper to show for it.

Here’s a bit of wisdom that’s often shared to aspiring PhD students: it’s your choice of supervisors, not the university, that will make or break the experience. If I’m honest, I didn’t really put that much thought into either; I defaulted to the familiar. I wanted to write a thesis, but I was not prepared to move to another city, across borders, to do so — not even for the right people. And thus, I simply contacted an old lecturer of mine, one I liked and respected and felt relatively culturally safe with, at the institution already known to me.

All this to say: I have a longstanding attachment to the University of Melbourne, but it’s one that has often felt incidental. I have chosen it again and then again, not because of any particular affinity or sense of loyalty, but for convenience; out of inertia.