Taking part in Generation UCL: 200 years of student life in London as an EPSURF researcher is probably the most exciting memory I have from this summer. I want to use this blog as an opportunity to look back at this journey and, more importantly, to reflect on a specific oral history interview recording with a UCL alumnus.
Overview of My Journey
My EPSURF research involved two main tasks. First, I delved into the lives of former UCL students in London from the late twentieth to early twenty-first century by exploring ten assigned interview recordings from the oral history project run by Sam Blaxland. For the second part of my journey, I sifted through the archives looking at UCL student magazines – particularly Pi, as well as a collection of student letters, SIG, from the UCL School of Pharmacy, in search of eye-catching content.
An Inspiring Quote from One Oral History Interview
“What was great was, ..., you had your student life but then if you wanted to, you could step out onto the pavement and you weren’t a student and you just merged into London life.”
This quote from David Bateson recollecting his experience as a UCL student from late 1970s to early 1980s is one of my favourites from listening to interview recordings. His mention of the UCL campus’s proximity to the surrounding city life influenced his experience and pointed out something that I wasn’t aware of before – the close spatial relationship between UCL buildings and the nearby streets could impact a student’s sense of identity, as they switch between being a UCL student and a pedestrian in bustling London.
Inspired by this oral history interview, I looked up UCL’s architectural designs and discovered a simplified site layout, a block plan, that architects use to illustrate how buildings interact with one another and the surrounding environment from an overhead view. As shown below, the block plan of UCL includes date annotations for each building’s erection and occupation, dating back to 1827 and continuing until 1937. Unlike educational institutions with grounds partially or completely surrounded by chain-link fences, I noticed dashed lines around UCL buildings in the block plan, especially where they cut across streets like Gordon Street and Malet Place. The lines indicate soft boundaries, such as roads or pedestrian access, rather than hard boundaries like walls or fences, suggesting that there isn’t a strict separation between the university and the surrounding city.
You may also notice that the Main Quadrangle opens out toward multiple wings and streets, which is another indication that UCL has been connecting with a broader network of buildings and streets, making the campus feel more open and integrated with its surroundings.
This idea of openness reminded me of UCL’s historical endeavour to embrace students regardless of gender, race, class, or religion—which was quite revolutionary when such diversity was less common in academic institutions in England at that time. This endeavour has thus shaped UCL’s unique ethos. The physical layout and design of the UCL campus reflect and externalise this value, embodying the university’s ethos of openness and inclusivity.
This ethos embedded in the buildings of UCL and the surrounding streets still frequently interact with students today. From my experience, while lectures and seminars often take place at the Institute of Education on Bedford Way, students regularly walk to other buildings on Gower Street and Malet Place. These streets, woven into the fabric of UCL’s campus, are closely connected to dining and leisure spots, inviting students to move beyond the confines of university space.
Upon reflection, how David’s experience in the early 1980s resonates with my own today highlights that UCL students, both then and now, are not confined to a narrow perspective typical of educational institutions surrounded by fences that strictly separate students from the outside world. Students at UCL actively engage with both academic and public spaces, embracing a more integrated and inclusive approach to learning and community engagement.
Ending
History talks. When I listen to stories from the past, told by those who were there and lived it, it comes alive. It speaks when I unfold the writings and drawings in those diligently produced booklets and magazines. They talk about great things that I will definitely regret not hearing or seeing.
I want to sincerely thank Georgina for her very warm embrace of my interest in the project. Thanks to Sam for his oral history interviews; seeing every character in those tales come alive before my eyes was fantastic. And a heartfelt thanks to Abi Heath, and the wonderful School of Pharmacy library team for making my afternoon with SIG in June so special.
If there was ever a moment I began to love history, there’s no time better than this.