A few observations of Oxford

Men wear jackets. The slightly rumpled tweed is still very much in favor for those who self identify as academics.

Women wear sensible, expensive looking leather shoes. A few of the younger women sport black boots and heels are occasionally seen on the younger, non-English women.

There exists a surfeit of men of all ages wearing neatly cropped beards. It seems de riguer to stroke or pull on one’s beard when one is engaged in conversation.

Vegetarian food usually means some form of pasta.

The double decker buses which run regularly are all electric hybrids and most are equipped with wi-fi.

Very few women color their hair. My white mane does not stand out like it does at home.

Likewise, very few women of any age wear make up. Clean faces shine everywhere except among the non-native English speaking women from other countries. Even then, it is artfully applied. However, curiously, nail polish seems big.

Double cooked chips are a “thing”.

There is more sugar involved in the daily English diet than I have seen in years. It starts with biscuits (which are cookies) or sweet rolls at breakfast alongside coffee or tea with multiple spoonfuls of sugar added, continues into lunch where one starch and perhaps a protein, or a whitebread sandwich, will be supplemented by a “pudding”, which is a sticky sweet cake, then afternoon tea includes a few twee little sandwiches plus a lot of cakes, custards or bicuits, and concludes with a dinner of one starch, a small portion of carrots, beans and/or beets if one is lucky, and concludes with a pudding, often a cheesecake or chocolate/caramel thing which is larger than the protein. I am desperately missing my veggies and a good salad. I try to avoid the biscuits and most puddings.

As a bit of a counterbalance to all of that sugar, most people do a good bit of walking. Though my bum has gotten weary from so much classroom sitting and I take my breaks walking in the gardens of St. Hugh’s. Strangely, very few of my fellows do the same.

There is a definite, though certainly unspoken (and perhaps even unconscious) hierarchy around here. At the very pinnacle are the German speaking professors actively teaching and publishing.

When I asked, “Why German?” I was told “Because it the language of the financial center of Europe”. And of course, since a big thread of this summer session includes Brecht and the post-dramatic community, German seems to be the ticket into the inner sanctum.

Following down the hierarchy, we come next upon the Professors currently affliated with a university. Indeed, the very first question I am invariably asked is, “What is your affiliation?  Uni or other?”.

Then, the students currently enrolled in University, and particularly those whose advisors are here as their fellows. Curiously, non-English students receive higher stratification than those who are England born.

Those of us who identify as theatre people enjoy a kind of “special” status and are accepted as intellectuals and artists who are desired in company.

Very strange to me is that the medical professionals are a bit apologetic about their status, especially if they are GP’s and not specialists.

No one admits to being a merchant of any kind and social workers are discussed as if they are an embarrassing necessity.

I have brought the word and concept of disability with me into every interaction and though I am open about my own, no one else mentions it. Not even the Professor who appears to be very much on the Autism spectrum.

One tiny success is that yesterday, finally, one of my fellows who was presenting on the topic of what should political theatre look like today actually included the words “people with disabilities” in her presentation as she discussed working toward a fuller inclusion. I felt a small frisson of success.

I have experienced repeated cognitive dissonance here, interacting with, and learning from, people who profess a commitment to “elevating the masses” and changing society while doing so from a position of total privilege and unaware of the irony.

When we discuss political action and I share my experiences Chairing two Human Rights Commissions, one Disabilities Commission, countless terms on school advisory committees or city planning committees or national policy making bodies I am always applauded for my efforts.

When I enquire or pursue what my fellows are doing, most of them discuss the books they have written or are writing, though a few do serve in political positions through their connections and money.

All self identify as radicalists or political leftists.

Cognitive dissonance from a blue collar Amerikan.