

In art and culture, we are constantly inspired to push boundaries and create things that bring the most value to us. As we publish the penultimate issue of Quench Magazine, I have taken the time to reflect on what inspires me and connects me to the magazine. For me, it is the freedom we have to experiment, make mistakes and grow as an individual. Having the agency and freedom to experiment with so many forms of media is something that I am truly grateful for. However, with freedom, there come many challenges. There will be instances when things do not go as planned. However, the power to be expressive outweighs everything. This would not be possible without out all of our talented contributors to the magazine, all of whom have incredible ideas to tell stories and increase our awareness, breaking boundaries and offereing insightful stories. Thank you for all of your commitment. To me this is what journalism and story telling is all about. We can use our skills and creativity to inspire, educate and drive forward change.
In creating this issue, we have explored different forms of media and photography techniques, from pressing flowers to including overlays. In doing so, we have not only had the creative freedom to experiment but also the ability to reflect on the pressing issues around us.
There is no question that we are living in tumultuous times, yet our commitment to persevere and stand for what we truly value is something that is incredibly motivating, and I hope you all strive to do the same. We can’t always take autonomy for granted. but we can utilise it to bring postivity in our day-to-day lives.
Autonomy is undeniably a powerful force that enables individuals to define their paths, voice their truths, and assert their presence in spaces often dominated by others. With freedom, there is delicacy, it can vanish in an instant and is something that should not be idealised. As a young
female I particularly resonate with this determination; it can be both healing, but equally incredibly frustrating at times. However, as suggested through the expression and drive of autonomy we can create a narrative to remind ourselves of the importance of standing firm in our own self-determination.
I hope that after reading this issue, you take the time to reflect on what you value and autonomy, while also driving forward the ability to stay in touch with what might be more pressing.
Autonomy brings community and helps us connect and this is what is important. This issue exposes you to autonomy in all of its forms, in the hope of championing it and advocating for your drive to bring about collective work that inspires all.
Too often, we only recognise the value of our freedoms once they have been lost, a cold truth especially pertinent in the face of the university’s continued consideration of the ‘scope’ of staff redundancy. That we have taken the integrity of our academic and educational autonomy for granted not only speaks to the tragic fragility of what we often perceive as guaranteed, universal freedoms for all, but also makes this issue of Quench more pertinent than ever.
For me, one standout piece from this issue is Tom Pilkington’s interview with Joe Semmens and Matt Muholland of the Cathays Community Centre, which has recently become somewhat of an unexpected yet indispensable lifeline for the local scene. Amidst an independent music epidemic in Cardiff, which has seen the culling of grassroots venues (see Buffalo, The New Moon and Porters’ cost-cutting relocation and Survival Fund), astronomical cuts to Arts Council Wales, and the planned extermination of Cardiff University’s very own music department; CCC emerges as an unlikely saviour of the DIY music circuit. The centre is a welcoming space for everyone (its popularity obliquely hinting to a society characterised by the gradual exodus of ‘third spaces’); particularly for young and emerging musical talent who, while they may not be old enough to perform in bars, are graciously offered a roof to blow off while raising money for the CCYCP charity.
Places like Cathays Community Centre are doing the real work; defending and championing the autonomy of those that have all too recently been subjected to a slew of cruel resource cuts and budget-trimming measures from the government, the university, and other institutions that seek to quell the creative autonomy of young artists.
Autonomy is a word that carries weight. It speaks to independence, self-governance and the power to carve out your own path. Autonomy is both exhilarating and overwhelming. For many of us, our lives at University offer us the first taste of true freedom; choosing when to wake up, what to study, where to live, who to be. But with that freedom comes the quiet pressure of decision-making, trying to navigate a world that suddenly offers fewer safety-nets.
Right now, conversations about autonomy are everywhere. Whether it’s the cost of living making independence feel out of reach, laws that threaten our right to protest, or the ongoing fight for personal freedoms. These aren’t just political debates; they’re about our everyday lives. Autonomy isn’t guaranteed – it’s something we have to demand, defend and hold onto with both hands.
For me, one of the simplest but most powerful symbols of autonomy has been growing flowers from seed. There’s something deeply satisfying about nurturing something entirely on my own terms; choosing what to plant, when to water, how to care for them. The photos of the flowers I’ve grown, included in this issue, mean more to me than pretty pictures – they’re my reminder that autonomy is about cultivating something for myself. Despite the chaos around me, I can still create something so beautiful following my own path.
This issue of Quench delves into autonomy in all its forms. We explore what it means to take ownership of our choices. We ask: How do we balance personal freedom with collective responsibility? In a world that often seeks to control narratives – how do we reclaim our own?
Features
Features
Culture
Culture
Hunaniaeth Gymreig Modern Gad dy Glebar Love 40
Roe Vs Wade: The end of an era of bodily autonomy
Culture 42
Fate or Free will Medieval Virtue to The Modern woman
Beyond 46
Interview
Starting university comes with change, and one of the biggest things I’ve noticed is how my “home” and “uni” personalities feel like two different versions of me, like Jekyll and Hyde (obviously less extreme!).
Though, we have to remember it’s not about being fake—it just happens naturally!
At home, I’m completely comfortable saying whatever I want without overthinking because I know my family and close friends will just get me. There’s a familiarity in how we talk, joke, and interact that makes everything easier.
At uni though, it’s a different story. There are more people than I can count, and I see new faces every day. With such a mix of backgrounds and personalities, I’ve found myself being more cautious about what I say—not because I’m pretending to be someone else, but because I want to connect with people in a way that makes sense to them. Not everyone will get my jokes or understand the references I make, and that’s okay. Adapting to different social settings isn’t a bad thing, it’s a good skill to develop.
Having a “uni personality” doesn’t mean that you are losing your true self, it just means you are learning how to navigate a new space. The bond you have with your home life will always be unmatched, but adjusting at uni can help you form deeper friendships too.
So, if you feel like you’re balancing two versions of yourself, don’t stress—it’s just part of growing into the person you’re meant to be.
words by: Arshci Ali
There are two of me and the two of us are working in tandem with one another, trying to fulfil the needs of the other whilst maintaining our new and old lifestyles. Coming to university truly makes you into two, as you can see your personality divide into two halves.
When I am in University the freedom that it grants is a sneak peek into the adult world; mulling over bills and rent whilst also attempting to scrounge together money for a cheap night out. When I am at home I would like to say I am different, but money has never been something I have been good at, so at least the two of us can shake hands over that.
Although at home I would class myself more on the lazy side, university has become a time for me to be more energetic and explore sports and the gym, something that I would shy away from before. My identity is changing and I am learning new things about myself and who I am.
As ashamed as I am to admit, there is a fear that when I leave university all my acquired interests and personality traits will vanish, and I’ll revert back to my quiet shell that I resided in beforehand. This, alas, is untrue. There will come a time when my two identities join together to unite under common interest when home and university me see their differences but understand they are what make me who I am.
words by: Harriet Venn
If you have ever felt like you change between your home self and your uni self, you’re not alone. It’s as if we all have a secret double life, switching between two personas depending on where we are.
At home, I live in a quiet village, I don’t mind the slow pace, following routine, and just being a calm, reliable presence. My family recognises me as someone who prefers predictability and the quiet comfort of a small, rural community.
But when I am at uni in the capital city of Wales, it is a completely different story.
The pace changes, and so do I. I get caught up in spontaneous club nights and side quests, take on new opportunities, and embrace the bustling energy of city life. Cardiff is a place where I feel free and more open to try new things. There is an independence which comes with that, the city brings out a version of me that’s more outgoing and more willing to push boundaries.
The only problem is, adapting between these two lives isn’t always smooth. When I go back home, especially in summer, I sometimes try to bring a bit of that city energy with me, but it doesn’t always fit. The longer I am at uni, the more I realise that this dual identity isn’t about changing myself, it is about finding a balance.
Each side of me has its place and learning to navigate both identities keeps things interesting.
But is social media actually shaping our sense of self? If so, how? And can any good come from it?
“We’ve heard it all before… “It’s ruining our lives!”
“We’re addicted!”
“Put down the phones and start normal-life-maxing!” Whatever that means?
It’s definitely not all bad, as social media allows us to curate highly visual representations of ourselves. We can be whoever we want to be, for all the world to see. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Tumblr allow for creative liberty and individualism to flourish. We can represent ourselves in any way we choose, using our own content and also by remixing any pre-existing content that resonates with us.
Traditionally, the bedroom was the key space where such tokens of identity could be found. The posters, photographs, and magazine cut-outs on the walls; the books and albums on the shelves, were all to some extent, physically bound. But now, we carry our own virtual bedrooms with us wherever we go. As long as there’s an internet connection, we can access our digitally curated selves. More than ever, people are like collages; not tied down by one style, genre, or subculture, but unique, multifaceted, and unfiltered. Yet, the desire to fit in appears to be at an all-time high, with true sincerity and self-expression taking a backseat.
Nowadays, social media isn’t something we do, but rather something we are. We are constantly on display, and live in fear of being misinterpreted, disliked, or even cancelled. The online world might be overflowing with information, but it lacks context, and we have become so self-aware of how we are perceived that we’ve stopped taking advantage of the autonomy that social media can provide. In theory, it has the potential to be a fantastic resource for showcasing one’s own ideas and creativity, but in practice it fails at fostering a sense of individuality. Our sense of self is incredibly intertwined with our social media presence, but the over reliance on remixing previous works, and appealing to popular trends and herd mentalities, causes us to feel like any other unremarkable cog in the machine.
words by: Tom Pilkington
I have a love-hate relationship with social media. It’s wrecked my concentration span and fueled my imposter syndrome. We all know not to trust everything online, but it’s hard not to compare when I see people traveling the world, hitting the gym consistently, or running their own businesses while I’m just trying to function. Still, despite all my gripes, I can’t stay off it. I’ve taken breaks, promised to limit my use, yet somehow always end up doomscrolling TikTok like nothing ever changed.
But for all its flaws, social media plays a huge role in shaping who we are. One of the biggest positives is connection. Distance isn’t as big of a barrier when you can keep up with friends and family through Instagram, TikTok, and Discord for example. These spaces can be a real support system, especially for people who struggle to find their crowd in real life. I know I’ve found my own communities through TikTok, joining Discord servers, gaming with people from all over the world, and just feeling like I belong somewhere.
Social media also introduces us to new ideas, hobbies, and interests we might never have discovered otherwise. Maybe you stumble across a niche photography account and suddenly want to try it yourself, or a random TikTok tutorial gets you into a new skill. Even thought-provoking discussions on Reddit (yes, those do exist) can challenge the way we think and help us figure out who we are.
Then there’s the creative side. Social media is an absolute goldmine for self-expression. Photography, video editing, graphic design—even memes—it’s all art in its own way. Apps like Canva and CapCut make it easier than ever to create without needing fancy equipment or experience. Even memes help us express emotions in ways words can’t.
Social media isn’t perfect, but it gives us spaces to be ourselves, in ways we might not be able to offline. This builds our identity not only online but it resonates with who we are in real life. There’ll always be trolls, but the right communities make it all worth it, to shape who we are.
At this time of year, I usually start to feel everything catch up with me, and the burnout begins to set in. Particularly now, with it being my final year at uni and having a dissertation to write, it’s a lot to cope with. There have been many times over the duration of my course, where I thought to myself “what if I just dropped out?”. What would happen if I just packed it in right now and left Cardiff without a degree. But then I remember how lucky I am that I am even able to attend university, all the things that had to fall into place to enable me to come to uni, and it would have been a waste of the past three years if I did drop out.
Education is a privilege. This is something many people don’t realise, and I include myself in that. In many countries, like Afghanistan, girls aren’t able to stay in education past the age of 11 or parents simply cannot afford to put their children in school, in places where education isn’t provided for by the government. We are so lucky to live in a country like the UK, where educational freedom is the norm, and the option to decide what we want to learn and what we want to do with the rest of our lives is our choice. But it is not just the country we live in that determines our educational future, it’s the culture we have grown up in and our upbringing that also affect how much choice we have in our own education. Depending on how you were parented, your life and career may have been planned out for you since you were born or the direction of your life may have changed five times already.
I am very fortunate to have extremely supportive parents and family, who just care that I am happy and enjoy life; there were never any expectations as to what I was going to do with my life, just that I find something I am passionate about and make a life from that. Though there was encouragement to go to university if that was what I wanted, I never felt any pressure from them that I had to go. My parents were just there to help me make the decision and to provide emotional and financial support once I was here. However, the pressure
was very much coming from society, school and myself. The pressure felt more intense whenever I thought about the fact that so many individuals around the world do not have the opportunity or means to go to university. Therefore, in a way, I felt like I had to attend and make the most of my fortunate background. In addition, in society, it is very much expected that when you leave school or college that you go on to university, which also weighed on me a great deal.
Another relevant issue with education, which is being discussed a lot in the media currently, is the cuts to creative subjects at schools and universities. While children aren’t being exposed to the arts as much at a young age, less funding is being put into arts subjects in secondary schools and degrees. As a result, there has been a decrease in students studying creative subjects in further education. When I was at school, I constantly felt like I was being put into a box, you either had to be academic or creative - you couldn’t be both. I loved English and history, but I also loved drama and textiles. By taking away the choice of creative subjects on offer, it takes away the freedom for young people to decide what they want to study, which is not fair.
Having the ability and freedom to be able to have an education and attend university is an immense privilege, I think it’s important for us to recognise that and appreciate the opportunities that we have been given in life. Being able to choose how you live your life, and what direction your life is going in is not a given for everyone. We live in a world where the level of education that everyone deserves is out of reach for many people, and instead of being a right, education is a luxury.
Hollywood acts as the microcosm of society. We see ourselves in the individuals portrayed on screen and look to audience reception for validation. Whether it is the characters or the actors, these people become beacons of admiration or inspiration—however—some may become targets for criticism. As women in this Western society, we are creatures of perception and appearance. From a young age, we are taught to be aware of how we present ourselves: posture, expression, and gait. Let’s take for example the recent criticisms of Millie Bobby Brown’s look. Matt Lucas mocked her fashion, comparing her to his sitcom alter ego Vicky Pollard. The actress responded and called out the relentless scrutiny she faces as a woman maturing in front of the camera lens. Constantly in an insufficient state, Brown is either too young or too womanly for the criticising public.
Female ageing is a highly spoken topic in the media; the fear of withering beauty seems to be so critical to the foundations of Hollywood. However, it calls into question… who defies these odds? While Millie Bobby Brown fights back against the insults involving her transition from girl to womanhood, actors like Julia Roberts and Meryl Streep show the essence of ageing into older life with grace despite criticism. Both these actors have aged naturally in the public eye, and both advocate against plastic surgery. Surgical changes are normalised in modern day culture to enhance beauty. Society has decided that there is a perfection that us women should aspire to, and yet this perfection has yet to be met. Judgement after criticism after insult, to be a woman is to be insufficient. After Julia Roberts posted a picture on Instagram with herself and her niece, Emma Roberts, playing cards at the breakfast table, there was backlash. A picture so filled with joy, as Roberts stated, twisted into a subject of interrogation. Exploding the internet with the offensive nature of her naturally ageing face!
The attitude toward feminine beauty and the idea that ageing is so abhorrent is so solidified today; it truly concerns the
normalised behaviour of degrading women and minimising their existence to subjective beauty standards. Can we move past this as a society, or will it always be controversial to be proud of your natural self? To be Pamela Anderson and Millie Bobby Brown; to be Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts… To just be you without criticism.
words by: Lowri
Player
For decades, Hollywood has dictated how women should look, imposing rigid beauty standards that force actresses to fit unattainable ideals. Florence Pugh is one of the few who refuses to conform. The British actress has become a powerful voice against body shaming and the unrelenting pressures placed on women in the entertainment industry. In an era where autonomy over one’s body is a contentious issue, Pugh’s defiance goes beyond personal resistance— it’s a cultural stance.
One of the most striking moments in Pugh’s resistance came in 2022 when she wore a sheer Valentino gown that exposed her chest. The backlash was swift and brutal. Social media erupted with criticism, with many reducing her choice to fuel misogynistic discourse. Rather than retreating, Pugh responded with unshakable confidence, calling out the deepseated fear and control surrounding women’s bodies. In a powerful Instagram post, she wrote, “Why are you so scared of breasts? Small? Large? Left? Right? Only one? Maybe none? What. Is. So. Terrifying.” Her refusal to apologize for her body struck a chord with many, reinforcing the notion that women should not be policed for how they choose to present themselves.
Pugh has also been vocal about the expectation for young actresses to conform to extreme dieting and unrealistic beauty standards to be deemed successful.
She has persistently rejected these norms, asserting that
her worth as an actress is rooted in her talent and hard work, not her physical appearance. By publicly embracing her body and resisting the industry’s pressure to change, Pugh is challenging the toxic culture that has long plagued Hollywood.
Beyond her own experiences, Pugh’s message is part of a larger conversation about how women’s bodies are constantly scrutinized and controlled—not just in the film industry, but in society at large. The expectation for women to adhere to ever-evolving beauty ideals is deeply entrenched in media and pop culture, reinforcing harmful standards that negatively affect body image and self-esteem. By speaking out, Pugh is advocating not only for actresses but for all women who have felt compelled to look a certain way to be accepted or valued.
Pugh’s defiance is part of a broader cultural shift toward body acceptance. She is actively redefining what beauty and success mean in Hollywood, proving that autonomy over one’s body should be a fundamental right, not something earned by conforming to outdated expectations. In an industry struggling with diversity and body acceptance, Florence Pugh is not just an actress—she is a symbol of empowerment, reminding us all that true power lies in self-acceptance.
words by: Wiktoria Gabara design by: Amy Miller
Left or right. Right or wrong. The choice between two futures, two paths to go down, has endlessly captivated audiences. As is often the case, choice and free will has been turned into a new form of entertainment. We have been introduced to the “Choose Your Own Feature Film” story promoted by entertainment giants Netflix as the next big advancement in moviegoing, a digital adaptation of the “Choose Your Own Adventure” book.
The beginnings of this adaptation came about in the mid-2000’s. The “Thrill Ride Edition” DVD for Final Destination 3 gave the viewer choices at crucial points on what a character should do. This branching path could unlock deleted scenes, change the fate of characters, and reveal new death scenes. However, the ending for the film remained the same regardless of the viewer’s choices. The next year, horror would try to go big on interactivity with the use of “Navigational Cinema” technology on the DVD for Return to House on Haunted Hill. This feature advertised greater choice, more expansive story paths, new endings, and was ultimately more of an influence on the interactive storytelling adopted in the late 2010’s by Netflix.
now reject the offer to progress through the story. Bandersnatch as a “Choose Your Own Adventure” story does offer different endings and paths; however, it is often forceful in telling the viewer what is a “good” choice and what is a “bad” choice, with the viewer being immediately punished if they choose what is deemed wrong.
Netflix’s most well-known venture into interactive storytelling was the 2018 episode of Black Mirror, “Bandersnatch”. The episode follows a programmer named Stefan developing a choose your own adventure game. It grows into a meta commentary as its characters become aware of their own place in a branching pathway and their ability to choose between certain futures. While this meta aspect earned the title high praise, its ability to give the viewer actual choice has been questioned. Early in the episode, Stefan is given the choice of accepting or rejecting help from a video game company in developing his work. If he accepts, the viewer is thrust into the first achievable ending where the game is released and hated. Stefan and the viewer then return to the choice between accepting or rejecting help, where they must
Film is not yet at a point where it can truly offer this freedom of choice in its medium, as there are only set endings and specific paths the viewer can go down, rather than fully being able to choose for themselves. In a behind the scenes featurette for Return to House on Haunted Hill, the film’s director praises Navigational Cinema as a way for the viewer to make their own director’s cut. Interactive storytelling in film is a new way for viewers to fulfil someone else’s vision rather than their own. When we talk about autonomy, we should ask if freedom of choice can ever truly exist in someone else’s story. It is a phantom of autonomy, an illusion of free will in a medium that has always been centred around one-way communication.
words by: Waseet Ahmed Naser design by: Harriet Ulett
Through art, we fully express ourselves. Music takes words and teachings and provides a platform for protest and self expression.
Lyrics and meanings of songs can often get lost in translation or overpowered by a song’s production but this does not take away from how music can and has historically been used as a voice of freedom and a platform for change.
From female bodily autonomy, to independence, to discussions about social and political difficulties, music has dealt with and explored numerous topics and artists have been able to make statements through their craft.
‘Zombie’ by The Cranberries is recognisable and catchy, the lyrics and meaning of the song go much deeper than most people realise. The song was released in 1994 and expresses lamentation about the death of two children by the Irish Republican Army in the 1993 Warrington bombings. The Cranberries are essentially criticising the state of the world as we knowingly fight one another and leave people for dead, or hurt either physically or mentally.
The Cranberries themselves have a strong tie to the issues they were protesting against and a personal connection as they were an Irish alternative rock band. The band’s lead singer wrote the lyrics during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The lyrics express anger, frustration, and grief over the senseless loss of life and the impact of the conflict on innocent people. The title of the song itself is metaphorical to describe the dehumanising effects of war and violence on individuals and communities. Alternatively, the title has also been seen as a reference to the mindless troops who followed authorities, whether this be to kill or harm, with no personal thought.
‘Zombie’ was released as the lead single from The Cranberries’ second studio album, No Need to Argue and since it’s release, critics have described the song as “a masterpiece of alternative rock”. The band’s record label were unsure and worried about releasing a politically charged song, especially as a single however it charted well, and reached No. 1 on the charts in six countries. The Cranberries took this positive engagement with their single and went on to release an equally informed music video in which the lead singer was featured and painted gold, while the visuals consisted of footage of a war-torn Belfast. Since the song’s release, it has remained popular, with it becoming the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on YouTube in 2020. Clearly, audiences had a strong response to the song, and has since become somewhat of an Irish anthem. Music defies boundaries and has always played a big role in bringing together marginalised groups.
Artists such as The Cranberries have allowed for themselves to be the voices of the people through their music and have let their craft speak volumes. Not only is it incredibly courageous to be politically outspoken, but it is often a controversial aspect of the arts. By using their popularity and speaking up for innocent people, The Cranberries are beloved and are considered Irish treasures.
Strong audience reactions reinforce how music is a vital form of protest, and defiance, and one which can bring about change.
It is imperative that we continue to use music as a means of expression and as a device to hold corrupt systems, violence and political discrepancies to account as it amplifies the weight of our words and is much more accessible to people than other forms of speech. With art always comes controversy, but controversy and being outspoken can bring about some much needed change in our society, and we can stop shying away from the upsetting or difficult conversations.
words by: Bhamini Khandige design by: Harriet Ulett
Whether it’s on the way to lectures, Lidl, or even YOLO on a Wednesday night; as a Cardiff University student, there’s a good chance that you have walked past Cathays Community Centre (CCC). Most won’t give it a second glance, but the truth is that for local musicians, it is essential.
CCC is not your average music venue. In fact, with its accessible and affordable practice rooms, local bands use it primarily for rehearsing. But last month, something new happened. Three bands took to a stage set up in the main hall, and the first gig from in-house promoters, Bŵt, was hugely successful.
I sat down with Joe Semmens and Matt Mulholland, two CCC workers involved behind the scenes with the new Bŵt gigs, to discuss their role in the local scene and the state of grassroots live music.
Let’s start with Cathays Community Centre. How do you serve the community?
Joe: The centre is run by the Cathays & Central Youth & Community Project (CCYCP). We work with and provide a space for lots of different people, whether it be vulnerable young adults, religious groups, university societies, local artists and musicians. It’s a real mix. Recently, we’ve used the same space for bothpre-Ramadan feasts and wrestling events!
Matt: It’s a space for everyone. We have coffee mornings every week that anyone can attend, as well as the events run by specific groups. It’s in the name – community – that’s what we’re all about.
What is Bŵt all about? What sets your gigs apart from others?
Matt: CCC have put on small gigs before, but not for a while. We wanted to relight the fire, and really drive through our mission statement of community and inclusivity. It’s not all about the profit for us; the money goes to the CCYCP charity and to the performers.
Joe: We have so many great young bands rehearsing here, and want to provide them with more opportunities. Our gigs are for all ages because there are bands that aren’t quite old enough to perform in bars.
Matt: Our physical setup is different as well. The stage is in the middle of our main hall, with surround sound. It’s important that bands aren’t just squeezed into a corner, and don’t have to compromise their performances. We’re encouraging them to expand their parameters and experiment with performance art.
What challenges have you faced so far as an independent music venue?
Matt: We’re very lucky to have an established space, with equipment and technical knowledge. CCC have been very supportive as we get this off the ground. As is the case for all grassroots music at the moment, financially nothing is easy. We’ve seen cuts in arts funding in Cardiff, great venues like The Moon permanently close, and music students being disregarded at Cardiff University.
Joe: We have to manage people’s expectations as well. We’ve had interest from so many acts but we’re a multipurpose venue that can’t put a gig on every other night. We’re prioritising our message of community by giving opportunities to bands that have developed in and around CCC and the local area.
What’s next for Bŵt? Any local acts you’re particularly excited about?
Matt: We’re aiming for one gig per month, and then we’ll build from there, depending on the CCC schedule.
Joe: Lady Garden are a great band we’re looking to have headline soon. The Family Battenburg are awesome too.
Matt: I’m really loving Casual Smart at the moment; they make great music.
You can keep up to date with new Bŵt gigs and Cathays Community Centre events on Instagram at @bwtmusiccymru and @cathayscommunitycentre
words by: Thomas Pilkington design by: Eleri Watts
Since its publication in 1987, Toni Morrison’s Beloved has repeatedly been the target of book bans throughout American states and high schools: censored, banned from school reading lists and removed from shelves at public libraries. The novel sheds light upon slavery and documents the Middle Passage, which are two extremely dark moments in American history that many people still find distressing to read and talk about. Beloved, in particular, is raw and unapologetic because it is inspired by the true story of enslaved Margaret Garner, who murdered her daughter in 1856 to spare her from the brutalities of slavery.
More than half of the novel’s power and activism arises from purposely disturbing readers, through features such as a deeply melancholic tone and a stream of consciousness monologue which allows us to experience the cruelties of slavery as the characters do. By censoring a book such as this, we are at risk of overlooking many of the lesser-known facts and prevailing consequences of slavery which, sadly, society often ignores. This includes slavery’s destructive legacy and the 60 million or more African Americans who died at the hands of slavery.
In relation to people’s desires to forget slavery, Morrison refers to this as America’s ‘national amnesia’, confirming that society’s censorship of this book is to preserve the image of a guiltless, righteous America. If books like these continue to be silenced, so are the real sufferings of people, and the most important message which this book transmits: that we must not forget.
words by: Soanna Khan
American novelist, Tim O’Brien, states that, ‘fiction is the lie that helps us understand the truth’. But what does it mean when the truth is being banned or censored?
Writers such as Aldous Huxley, Oscar Wilde, and Margaret Atwood have found ways to make social commentary through their literature and put more weight into their words. Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray is deemed a literary classic. Yet, the beloved novel has only been published in a censored form which removes passages that explicitly depict the homoerotic feelings of the artist Basil Hallward towards the titular character. Other references to sexual promiscuity have also been redacted in Wilde’s novel. For over a century, the novel has been deemed vulgar and unclean, and publishers made edits to make the novel more palatable for audiences often without the author’s consent or knowledge.
While Oscar Wilde is known as one of the most influential playwrights of the early 1890s, he will sadly always be associated with his controversy. Wilde’s criminal conviction for gross indecency for homosexual acts will always follow him and in some respect cloud his work, especially since the redacted themes in The Picture of Dorian Gray mirror the author’s criminal conviction. While Wilde’s novel is now a classic, and praised, the final published version is one that has been censored and is not published according to how Wilde intended, which means that it is loved yet doesn’t tell the author’s authentic, raw and unapologetic story. So, despite all societal progression, censorship still controls our society and denies us of our autonomy.
words by: Bhamini Khandige
Since its publication in 2003, The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini has been subject to a series of book bans across the United States in schools and libraries. Its array of intricate and emotionally compelling characters sits to the backdrop of political turmoil in 1970s Afghanistan. Which leads us through the many conflicts the country faces up until the early 2000s, whilst exploring topics of ethnic divides, religious extremism, and sexual violence. Hosseini not only does this with fluidity and intricacy but also sheds light onto the challenges and experiences of US first-generation Afghan immigrants. Regardless of this, the novel has been criticised for its ‘racially divisive’ rhetoric, its judgement on Christianity and some people’s belief that it ‘promotes terrorism’, deeming it inappropriate in certain US schools.
However, for many in Western countries, The Kite Runner, may be their first look into Afghanistan’s history, culture, and people. Hosseini has spoken openly about this himself, advocating for the right to explore and teach through literature, giving people the freedom to learn and understand events that many would not be exposed to elsewhere.
Not only this, but he stresses the significance of empathy and literature’s ability to deepen one’s relationships with others and the world around them. With the rise of nationalism and an increase in anti-immigration policies, particularly in the US, our communities are eroding under the strain of internal divides. The banning and censoring of literature such as Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, only robs one’s right to encourage empathy and harmony.
words by: Bethan Jones design by: Harriet Ulett
I was about 14 when I read The Handmaid’s Tale for the first time. The absurdity of the society in which the main character lived felt so fantastical and far too scary to be true. The second time I read The Handmaid’s Tale was when the US Supreme Court overruled Roe v. Wade, a court case from 1973 that, until June 2022, classified abortion as a constitutional right. This painted Atwood’s classic novel in a completely different light, proving that the fight for autonomy is not just found within the pages of fictitious literature. The story follows a young woman, Offred, navigating her life in a corrupt totalitarian USA as a ‘Handmaid’ – a fertile woman who serves as a reproductive vessel for her Commander and his wife. Her uniform is modest, and she cannot speak unless spoken to; her only asset is her womb. This may sound extreme, but Atwood insists that Offred’s oppressive government is not her creation – from Ceaușescu’s reign in Communist Romania, to the fight for reproductive rights in 1980s America, it doesn’t take much digging to realise that The Handmaid’s Tale merely reflects world history. This is what makes autonomy in literature so significant; stories like The Handmaid’s Tale force the reader to address uncomfortable truths about liberty and the dangers of freedom. In its final pages, we see Offred thrown into the back of a military van, uncertain whether those driving are the government spies known as ‘Eyes’, or the rebel group ‘Mayday’. She steps out of the van and into the light, and the story ends there. We never find out if she gained her freedom or was met with further confinement, because Atwood wants our focus to be on the struggle throughout the novel, not on a satisfactory ending tied with a neat bow.
words by: Kitty Connolly
Suzanne Collins, despite writing a trilogy of novels directed at a young adult audience, arguably succeeded with creating one of the most inspiring dystopian commentaries on state control and lack of independence held by the individual. In the series, twelve districts of ‘Panem’ (North America) live to serve the Capitol – the wealthy portion of the population. Each district offers up two tributes, male and female, to fight to the death in an annual competition broadcast live across the country, The Hunger Games. Capitol citizens place bets and treat tributes like pawns or animals, stripping away their freedom and dignity as they find entertainment in the bloodshed of children. Katniss Everdeen, the protagonist of the series, is aware of the hold that the Capitol has over the districts. The living conditions and poverty she has grown up in have cost her the life of her father, and she has learned to fend for her family from a young age to prevent starvation. When she threatens suicide at the end of the games, after the Gamemakers revoke the rule change of two potential victors, she unknowingly – yet expectedly – ignites a fire within the districts that threatens the system Panem is built upon. A rebellion starts, and a 16-year-old girl’s actions result in the freedom of millions of people, as well as the dismantling of an authoritarian regime. As a teenage girl, Katniss is forced to grow up quickly at the expense of her population’s freedom and autonomy – witnessing and abetting in the killing of other children, being sent into the games twice, leading a rebel force, losing her loved ones either to war crimes or torture, and even being shot by loyalists on national television. Throughout all this, however, she never loses her passion for change. Of course, her drive to lead such a massive cause dwindles due to the crippling weight of the responsibility it bears, but Katniss is an inspiration to all young readers everywhere that change can come from even the most insignificant individuals within the system. No person is too trivial to make a difference.
words by: Tegan Davies design by: Ola Rzeszut
The ability to customise pieces in fashion has become a symbol of creative autonomy. From designers to celebrities, having the power to decide how to interpret a theme is nowhere more evident than at the Met Gala. Known as the pinnacle of collaboration and artistry, the annual event celebrates individuality through bespoke, theme-driven designs. This year, the gala’s theme is ‘Superfine: Tailoring Black Style’, offering an opportunity to once more customise pieces to fit a certain style and be original.
Tailored clothing allows attendees and designers to craft outfits that not only adhere to the theme, but also reflect their own interpretations of the theme. This customisation process fosters a deep sense of autonomy, as designers and celebrities feel empowered by taking control of how they creatively use the theme. This autonomy can also provide a sense of community. In past themes, many celebrities found themselves having interpretations and ideas, regarding the theme, that could collide together.
During the 2019 Met Gala, celebrities such as Lady Gaga and Billy Porter, approached the theme in similar ways. They embodied the essence of Camp with performative, theatrical and playful acts. Lady Gaga arrived in a custom multilayered Brandon Maxwell ensemble, which she revealed in a performative and exaggerated way. Similarly, Billy Porter dressed as an Egyptian Sun God in a custom gold ensemble by The Blonds. His entrance was nothing short of spectacular and together, they proved how autonomy in custom pieces can lead to individual ideas, but also communal interpretations.
words by: Charlotte Hardie-Watts
In an era of fast fashion, tailor-made clothing seems like a thing of the past, or reserved for the rich. Clothes don’t need to fit perfectly or be made of high-quality materials; instead, they are designed to outlast trends, not the wearer.
But when it comes to jeans, one of the longstanding battles of women’s fashion, investing in a bespoke, tailor-made pair
can be worth it or seem a viable relate to spending hours in changing pair of jeans that fit perfectly are made of high-quality fabrics, great. Popular brands like Levi’s® jeans as part of their Lot-1 service, complete and is crafted by an this service seems to continue that tailoring is a luxury, as a £795! And, if you want a jacket it is an eye-watering £1155. It cities, making it an inaccessible
Although tailoring seems to remain to source, it has inspired those finding well-fitting clothes to making their own clothes. Community workshops are becoming increasingly people to exercise autonomy when Developing skills in haberdashery freedom to create personal items to their tastes and styles.
words by: Amber Al-Wafai
viable option. Many women can changing rooms looking for a on both the waist and hips, fabrics, and, most importantly, look Levi’s® offer bespoke tailor-made service, which takes 16 hours to an in-house “Master Tailor”. But continue in-line with the assumption pair of jeans will set you back jacket to complete the ensemble, It is also only available in five inaccessible option for many.
remain expensive and difficult those who typically struggle with explore DIY options or even Community repair cafes and increasingly popular as a way for when it comes to their clothes. haberdashery gives individuals the items that fit their body and align
‘Autonomy’ to me represents the power of choice; in today’s world, having the privilege of choosing how we present ourselves through fashion is an opportunity to showcase not only our personalities as individuals, but our presence as a part of a wider global community. Where we choose to buy our clothes, where we choose to spend our money, speaks to our personal manifestos - who we are, where our values lie, and even our hopes and aspirations.
Made-to-order clothes and the discussions around sustainable fashion grow increasingly relevant, as we continue to bear witness to the destructive consequences of fast fashion, for both people and the planet. Many businesses operate in a way where items are only made once they’ve been ordered, ensuring no waste is left during the manufacturing process. For example, you may not know that the popular shoe brand UGG, which mass-produces and sells their products on a global scale, is a different brand from the original makers of authentic Australian Ugg boots which are UGG
Since 1974, a family-run business which still operates on a made-to-order model. Sheepskin boots have been an iconic part of Australian surf culture since the 1950s, and Ugg Since 1974 are proud to uphold this legacy authentically. Customers are able to customise their shoes as they wish, and they are handcrafted specifically for them, with materials made to last - hence the 3-10 week dispatch time.
Made-to-order models show that, by making more sustainable shopping decisions, we don’t have to sacrifice our sense of community and care in the pursuit of individuality. In taking control of our own power and staying true to ourselves through our fashion, lets keep in mind and respect the communities who allow us to do so, by making our textiles, clothes, and even delivering them to your doorstep.
words by: Thandi Nia Carklin design by: Harriet Ulett
Independent creatives, whether that be in music, visuals arts, or even fashion all need spaces to hone their craft and share it with audiences. One of these creative spaces is The Sustainable Studio, a creative community hub founded by Sarah Valentin and Julia Harris.
Sarah and Julia had always been involved in the creative scene and often took trips to Manchester and London for community fashion events, exhibitions or to connect with local designers. Inspiration first struck when they saw a collaborative space on a trip to London and thought of how amazing it would be to have something like that here. At the time they had been given notice on their Cardiff Bay studio where they had been running community workshops in sewing and upcycling. So, they signed on a space in 2015 and hosted an open day. “We were doing what a lot of businesses do, they make it up as they go along, and that’s the best way you learn, by mistakes,” Sarah shares. Eventually they opened at the space I have come to know and love, located on Tudor Street.
One of the aims of their studio is to create opportunities for natural collaborations to happen amongst those using it. Their space acts as an incubator for emerging creatives and they have seen many success stories in the process. Eto Eto, Boutique de Nana, Work Shy, are just a few of those they can recall having come through the space. Sarah shares anecdotes of those who she has seen start their journeys with them. One that stands out to me is of Yousra Elsadig, a Sudanese fashion designer who they met through a six-week community course, was mentored by them and eventually went on to start her own successful brand Boutique de Nana. “I got to know her, saw that she had a flair for fashion and then we mentored her, over five years”. Along with the studio and mentorships, they also run their own sustainable fashion brand Dati clothing. When asked about the name behind the brand they tell me that it kind of means good on you in Welsh. “Good on you for supporting sustainability, or it looks good on you, it’s that kind of colloquial vibe to it,” they explain. The brand started out with pieces from their wardrobes, charity shops and deadstock and eventually they went on to try and create a collection from scratch with sustainable
fabrics which proved quite costly. They realised that people weren’t buying into the sustainability aspect but more on the designs and how things looked. “You’ve got to work with the commercial elements of what’s trending, but using sustainable fabrics,” Sarah tells me and discusses how she found kilo sales to be an amazing source for materials and how they chose to value keeping a low carbon footprint over making a profit.
“We’ve always been people that aren’t very good at being managed. Always set our own path, run our own race,” Julia tells me when asked about what creative autonomy means to them. Being able to set your own ideas into motion is what it’s all about and what’s worked for them. “People having more belief in themselves and running with an idea, knowing that there’s going to be a community of people that will support it, is brilliant because it adds so much more diversity to the city, adds to the cultural fabric, and it boosts the economy,” she tells me on the importance of encouraging and supporting the creative industries. Cities like Manchester and London are always discussed as creative epicenters but in the last few years, they’ve seen a real vibrancy in Cardiff through the independence people are finding which has shaped the city. However, one of the major threats to creative autonomy is money, especially since fashion has always been underfunded in comparison to music and film. “I’ve never seen any support for independent designers, especially sustainable independent designers or brands.” Even though it is improving with the rise of zero waste culture, cuts to the arts are still being made which can be a major roadblock for those wanting to get started. Even though it’s more accessible to start a brand now, “you’re getting a fast turnover of people quitting and saying I can’t do this anymore it’s too expensive,” and they can’t compete with major retailers.
While independent brands face many struggles and barriers to entry, collaboration and building a sense of community is what they’ve found is crucial. To be autonomous you still need to build relationships. Re-investing into the community is where their heart has always been and supporting the next generation of autonomous creatives. “To see these people just blossom and flourish is our hope.”
words by: Angelina Mable
design by: Ola Rzeszut
It took me two long years to get my driving licence – two theory tests, three practicals, one crash mid-lesson (of which I had hundreds, and spent thousands on) and numerous mental breakdowns. In August of 2023 I let out my first ever tears of joy behind the wheel, when my examiner told me I had passed my test with nine minor faults. I started to give up on the whole thing, and spent the rest of the day (month, more like) walking around dazed as if I expected an alarm to wake me up at any given moment.
Passing your driving test is one of life’s greatest accomplishments, and probably my biggest relief behind the stress of a successful Ticketmaster pre-sale. However, I still felt entirely incapable of driving, let alone worthy of the certification required to do it without supervision. Everyone says you only really learn to drive once you pass your test, and I hate to add fuel to a cliché, but it really is true. It took me until the following April to buy my first car (Pidge the Peugeot, who serves me well to this day) and months after that to finally be confident enough to drive anywhere without my mum in the passenger seat. Flash forward to now, I never thought I’d have been in the position I was in last week, in which I undertook my first ever solo roadtrip.
Longleat isn’t that far away in the grand scheme of things, an hour and a half at the most, yet my solo drive to Center Parcs was by far the longest and most ambitious that I had undertaken thus far. My dad’s side of the family had driven up on the Monday, and I was unfortunate enough to be in work at the start of the week. The plan was for me to join them in the middle of their stay on Wednesday morning. So, the night before, I psyche myself up with an early night and a packed suitcase and set my alarm for the next day in the hopes of an early start.
“It took me two long years to get my driving licence”
Except it’s me we’re on about here, isn’t it? I can’t remember the last time I saw a single digit on a clock. Snooze. Snooze. Snooze. Eventually I pulled myself out of bed at around
“Now, this retelling is all very dramatic”
midday, convincing myself that I had done the right thing getting some extra sleep, as tiredness behind the wheel kills (thanks, Smart Motorway signs). No harm done, just a little later in the arrival time than expected. Except, again, it’s me we’re on about here – autistic and extremely reliant on timings and plans – which, to my dismay, would only get worse.
I’m sat there, mulling over the last few items in my suitcase, when my mum shouts to me from the open front door. Kindly, she had offered to check my engine oil before I set off –Pidge has a tendency to guzzle the stuff as if it isn’t £30 a bottle. Out I go, met with the disappointment that the two bottles of oil I promised were in my boot, was actually half of a single bottle. We fill her up with what we have, and the dipstick is showing signs of a successful oiling. My mum proceeds to walk around the car to put the kitchen roll she had used to wipe up the excess in the bin, but halts and inhales a worrying amount of air before ushering me around to look at my back right-hand wheel, which was completely flat.
I try the AA. Nope – I’m only covered for roadside assistance, not HomeStart. My mum’s friend advised I do not try to drive it the mile down the road to the petrol station, either. The only option was to charge up the brand new digital tyre inflator and pray to God that it worked, and within a short enough amount of time. Queue mental breakdown. My dad tells me on the phone that it’s not a big deal (to me, it very much is) and my tears are starting to mock me with the salty residue that is not akin to the chlorine of the pool water I should be relaxing in at that very moment.
Now, this retelling is all very dramatic. The truth is, the inflator took a record time to charge up, and impressed us both by getting my tire from the 3 Psi it had deflated to back up to the needed amount of air – 32 Psi. I set off, a good few hours later than planned, to a relatively smooth journey – until roadworks led to a diversion adorned with painfully
tight corners and narrow country roads. Thank the Lord for Waze, because I’d have probably given up and driven Pidge into one of the animal enclosures at Longleat Zoo had the brilliance of technology not aided me with that one.
So, my first solo road trip? Completed it mate. At the cost of my nervous system, that is. My mate literally drove the seven hours to Scotland and back to see Taylor Swift last year, and I cried about a journey only slightly longer than my daily commute to work. But a step is a step, and a win is a win! Do I feel more independent now? Definitely – I know I can do it, and proved this to myself on that fateful Wednesday. And the few days away no doubt did me wonders. Someone call Jeremy Clarkson, I’ll be on Top Gear before you know it.
words by: Tegan Davies design by: Olivia Griffin
It was the summer of 2014, and we were in the car heading to Newark Airport. After a long drive my nerves really started to kick in; I was moving halfway across the world. Roughly 3,497 miles away from the place I was born and raised, away from family, friends, and just about everything I knew, traded for a bunch of unknowns. I did make the choice, but I didn’t know if it would pay off. I was getting on a plane by myself and setting off, meeting my mom on the other side. She had moved a few months prior to get everything set up in the tiny basement flat we were going to be living in.
My dad and grandparents accompanied me to the airport, helping me check in and ran through all the information I needed: phone numbers, emergency contacts, and all the other essentials. Eventually we ended up sat around a table outside one of those tacky gift shops that had New Jersey and New York themed trinkets. Eventually a very clean looking British woman walked up, she was one of the flight attendants and she was to be my guide through the airport and onto the plane. I was so nervous, and I remember holding the flight attendant’s hand as I said goodbye to my family. After the security gate there was a long hallway that you could distantly wave goodbye one more time before leaving. I waved, and we began to walk away; the nice lady told me not to look back. I listened. I am forever thankful to that flight attendant, she never knew that they are words that have seen me through tough times, however cliché they may be.
She took me to meet the pilots, both British men; I shook their hands and spoke to them for a short while. I asked about what it is like to fly a plane, and they told me a little about their jobs, and they promised me that they would get me across the pond safely. (spoiler alert: they did) The flight was long and boring for the most part; I watched a few films and tried to relax but I couldn’t quite settle from my nerves. Looking back on that journey it felt quite solemn,
I didn’t know what to make of what I was doing; being only twelve I didn’t quite grasp how different it could be.
It’s now been over a decade since then and I am now twenty two. If I hadn’t said yes to moving halfway across the world, I can’t imagine what my life might be like. I certainly wouldn’t be getting an education of the same calibre, have amazing friends from around the world, and I doubt I would be half as independent as I am. If I could speak to my younger self, I would tell myself a few things. No matter how bittersweet it might feel, it’s always better to venture outside of your comfort zone. It’s all too easy to settle into a life where you were raised, it’s a lot more challenging to move away and take a chance. To date I don’t think I have ever made a better decision than moving to the UK. I wouldn’t be sat here writing this nor would I be looking into the future of a few years’ time imagining myself as the first to be called Dr. Nilsen in my family. I would tell myself that culture shock and homesickness go away, and imperceptibly this will become home.
As scary and as challenging as that journey was, I don’t think I would be the same person without it. Travelling alone can be daunting, and you never know what to expect, but it’s almost always worth it.
words by: Olivia Nilsen design by: Julia Bottoms
Food, food, food. You can start the day with an English breakfast, have sushi for lunch, and finish with a bowl of spicy Korean ramen. Food globalisation has made it so easy to experience flavours from across the world, but embracing variety comes with the risk of losing sight of what makes a dish truly authentic.
Food is an expression of identity. Many take great pride in their national dishes and changing them risks diluting their meaning. A French croissant, carefully folded to perfection, is layered with generations of tradition and expertise. A Mexican taco, made with fresh corn tortillas and slow-cooked meat, is different from the Tex-Mex versions found worldwide. When food is heavily adapted to suit Western palates, we end up not really exploring food, instead constantly adjusting it with no appreciation for its true form.
A deeper cultural responsibility comes with food. If a dish is misrepresented or modified too much, it can lead to misunderstandings about the whole culture itself. For example, many Westernised Chinese dishes, like sweet-and-sour pork, have little resemblance to the complex, regional cuisine found in China. While these dishes are delicious, they don’t actually represent the depth of Chinese culinary tradition.
I believe food should be enjoyed in its original form to really understand different cultures and the significance food holds in people’s lives. Authentic dishes tell stories of migration, history, and survival. Eating a proper Neapolitan pizza or an authentic bowl of pho isn’t just about taste; it’s about respecting the culture that it stems from. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not against fusion cuisine or twists on classics. Food is always evolving and adapting dishes to suit the time they’re being made keeps them alive. Society changes, economic conditions fluctuate, and attitudes towards food constantly evolve. Wars and rationing created resourceful dishes, whilst economic booms led to experimental ones.
With all that said, food shouldn’t be frozen in time either. The best dishes often come from adaptation. War and economic hardship have shaped food numerous times. British wartime rationing led to dishes like Woolton pie (a vegetable-based dish designed to stretch limited supplies). The Great Depression in the US popularised peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as an affordable and filling meal. These dishes reflect their time and circumstances, proving that food is a response to its environment.
Food can be seen to adapt during prosperity as well! 20th century economic booms led to indulgence, like the cronut and the rise of fastfood chains. Fusion food, from Korean tacos (a mix of Korean BBQ flavours served in a Mexicanstyle taco with kimchi claw) to butter chicken pizza (a fusion of Italian and Indian flavours by topping a pizza with creamy butter chicken), reflects a world where cultural boundaries are increasingly intertwined. Although these aren’t really "authentic”, they introduce new audiences to flavours they might not otherwise try.
Should we keep food authentic or embrace food evolution? The answer is both! Enjoying a dish in its purest form is essential for understanding its cultural significance. You can’t fully appreciate Italian cuisine without trying a proper pasta carbonara. Likewise, you can't claim to know Indian food if your experience doesn’t go beyond the notorious butter chicken. Respecting tradition is just as important as food adaptation.
Globalisation becomes inevitable, and new interpretations of classic dishes keep food exciting. If we consider where dishes come from and continue to share their stories, there’s room for both tradition and evolution on the plate.
words by: Arschi Ali design by: Eleri Watts
Food is ingrained within our cultural consciousness. No matter your heritage, there will be a special meal with a long story behind it. Throughout history, food has often been at the centre of political and social tensions, whether caused by taxation, famine, or war. The curious history of food and its entanglements with political outcry have stretched through all recorded history; but certain periods seem to be more tense than others. So, why don’t we cast our gaze to the 18th century to the French Revolution and then subsequently the
I am sure you are all aware of the famed Marie Antoinette quote “Let them eat cake”. Though there is shaky historical evidence for this quote, it is steeped in context and persists in its association with the French Revolution (1789-1794). The political and social landscape in France was already tense in the years leading up to the revolt. After two successive years of crop failures in 1788 and 1789, the people were starved and enraged. The average French citizen normally would’ve spent half their wage on bread, but due to the bad harvests, the prices were inflated and the basic loaf cost nearly ninety percent of the average wage.
In addition to skyrocketing bread prices, heavy taxation fell on other foodstuffs: salt in particular. The gabelle tax had been introduced from the 14th century onwards, but during the 1780s, the heavy burden of tax fell onto the peasantry and those outside of the nobility or clergy. This sparked further anger from the French citizens, especially when the monarchy was benefiting from the heavy taxation, flippantly spending it on luxuries.
In the years building to the revolution, people were already rioting due to food shortages and bread prices. During April and May of 1775, there was the Flour War. Over 300 riots broke out and people pillaged grain from anywhere they could. The rioters even invaded Versailles, and Paris: when the people stormed the fortress of the Bastille on 14th July 1789, they did not solely hunt for arms, they were searching for grain.
Around the same time as the French Revolution the American Civil War began to gain traction. The War of Independence was fought between 1775-1783, the American people were fighting off British rule over the colonies largely because of the imposition of unfair taxes and the Americans’ desire for more independence.
In the summer of 1767, the British Parliament introduced the Townshend Acts, which were their attempt to assert control over the colonies. This consisted of four separate acts that served to collect revenue duties. The most notable of these acts was the Townshend Duties, also known as the Revenue Act, in short, it served to get more money into the British treasury. All of these acts had financial implications for the American people, ranging from arbitrary customs collections to lowering commercial duties on tea from the East India Company so they could effectively compete with the Dutch.
Such acts led to unrest amongst the American people, they were being consistently unfairly taxed, and things came to a head in 1773. Three ships full of tea was docked, as soon as the import was unloaded, the importers would have to pay the tea tax. The main issue was not the fact that it was tea, but rather it was the fact that the British were employing a monopoly over trade favouring the East India Company- it gets more complicated, but the main thing to know is that the British wanted to support their own interests.
This famed tea party was an act of rebellion against the British; Americans were enraged by the unfair taxation levied on them and decided to act. On 16th December 1773, ships arrived in Boston, the Sons of Liberty (the name of the resistance group) demanded that the imports be rejected and sent back to England. Their demands were not met, this led the Sons of Liberty to head to the docks dressed as Mohawk warriors. They boarded the ships, dumping three hundred forty-two chests of tea overboard. At the time this cost about $10,000, however, in today’s money it would cost an estimated $1.7 million. I always wondered if the harbour water would have tasted of tea.
It seems that food can act as a symbol of injustice, especially
Wrth dyfu i fyny ym Mhontypridd, daeth yn amlwg i mi pa mor hanfodol oedd diogelu’r Gymraeg, gan nad oedd yn rhan o fywyd pob dydd yn y gymuned o’m hamgylch. Fel yr unig berson yn fy nghartref a oedd yn siarad Cymraeg, roeddwn yn teimlo pwysau, ond hefyd braint i gadw’r iaith yn fyw yn fy mywyd beunyddiol, ac roedd hyn yn golygu bod fy nghysylltiad â’r iaith yn ymestyn y tu hwnt i waliau fy nghartref ac i’r gymuned ehangach. Yn yr Ysgol, roeddwn yn ffodus iawn i gael athrawon a ffrindiau a oedd yn cefnogi fy niddordeb yn yr iaith a’r diwylliant, ac wrth dyfu i fyny roeddwn yn teimlo fel fy mod yn rhan o rywbeth mwy, yn rhan o genhedlaeth newydd a oedd yn parhau’r frwydr i gadw’r Gymraeg yn fyw. Roedd y profiad hwn yn fy ngwneud yn fwy penderfynol i hyrwyddo’r iaith, nid yn unig fel dull cyfathrebu ond elfen annatod o fy hunaniaeth.
Dechreuais deimlo’n angerddol dros hybu’r iaith yn ystod fy amser yn y chweched yn Ysgol Garth Olwg, a sefydlais glwb siarad Cymraeg gyda’r gobaith o drio annog mwy o ddisgyblion i ddefnyddio’r iaith tu fewn a tu allan i’r Ysgol. Er roedd hyn yn llwyddiant, roedd angen i mi ddod o hyd i ffordd o gyfuno fy mywyd Cymraeg gyda bywyd fy nheulu. Felly, dechreuais gyflwyno darnau bach o’r Gymraeg iddyn nhw – geiriau, ymadroddion a hyd yn oed caneuon. Er nad oedd fy nheulu byth yn dod yn rhugl, roedden nhw’n ddechrau gwerthfawrogi fy nghariad at yr iaith.
Mae fy nghysylltiad â’r Gymraeg yn sicr wedi siapio fy hunaniaeth mewn ffordd na allwn ei ragweld. Roedd yr Eisteddfod ym Mhontypridd hâf diwethaf wedi gwneud gwahaniaeth mawr i’r dref, gan ddod a bywyd, diwylliant a’r Gymraeg i ganol y gymuned. Am un wythnos, roedd y Gymraeg yn brif iaith y dref, ac roedd hynny’n fy atgoffa o’i phwysigrwydd fel rhan annatod o’n diwylliant. Yn y dyfodol, hoffwn weld mwy o ddigwyddiadau trwy gyfrwng y Gymraeg, gan greu cyfleoedd i’w chlywed, ei ddefnyddio a’i dathlu’n fwy aml.
Wrth fyfyrio ar fy nhaith, mae tyfu i fyny ym Mhontypridd wedi chwarae rôl hanfodol yn fy natblygiad, rydw i nawr yn astudio’r Gymraeg ym Mhrifysgol Caerdydd sydd wedi bod yn gam hollbwysig ar fy nhaith bersonol ac ieithyddol. Trwy’r cwrs, rwyf wedi cael cyfle i ddysgu mwy gan ddyfnhau fy nealltwriaeth, ac mae bod yn rhan o gymuned fywiog o siaradwyr Cymraeg wedi rhoi’r hyder i mi ddefnyddio’r iaith mewn sefyllfaoedd cymdeithasol a phroffesiynol.
geiriau gan : Seren-Beth dylunio gan: Katie Storrie
geiriau gan : Llŷr Eirug
Beth yw dy enw?
Megan Lois Williams
Marged Alun G a d D y G l e b a r
dylunio gan: Katie Storrie
Beth mae dy ffrindiau yn dy alw di?
Megs
Tri gair i ddisgrifio dy hun?
Swnllyd,cymdeithasol a sporty
Pa gwrs wyt ti’n ei astudio ac yn mha flwyddyn wyt ti?
Criminoleg a Chymdeithaseg -Blwyddyn 1af
Ble byddwn ni’n debygol o ddod o hyd i ti ar nos sadwrn?
Clwb Ifor Bach
Beth yw dy ‘hangover cure’?
Diet Coke a Chinese
Hoff beth am ddinas Caerdydd?
Bute Park a Roath – llefydd mor neis i redeg!
Beth yw dy ‘go to drink’ ar nosweth allan?
Double vodka cranberry
Hoff beth am fod yn Cymro/Cymraes?
Mudiadau unigryw fel Urdd a CFfI -a bwyd (Welsh Cakes
Beth yw un arferiad gwael sydd gennyt ti?
Ddim yn gwbod pryd i stopio yfed ar noswaith allan!
Beth yw un cyfrinach sydd gennyt ti?
Dal yn obsessed â gwylio Tracy Beaker a Dumping Ground
Hoff gân?
Proud Mary -Tina Turner
Pwy sydd angen cau eu clebar erbyn tro nesaf?
As I am sure most of you reading are aware, Roe v. Wade was overturned in June 2022 in the US. This sparked waves of anxiety across the nation and rippled across the world. Millions of American women are now denied the right to dictate what happens to their bodies and this sets a worrying precedent for the future. The origin of Roe v. Wade dates to 1973 when a woman named Norma McCorvey, known as Jane Roe, challenged Texas state’s abortion laws when she was denied the right to an abortion because her life was not at risk. The district attorney Henry Wade defended the anti-abortion laws, thus the name Roe v. Wade. The court voted in favour of Roe, meaning that every woman in the United States was entitled to an abortion in the first twelve weeks of pregnancy. The decision was later furthered by Planned Parenthood v. Casey, which argued that any restrictions that placed an “undue burden” on the woman was unconstitutional.
In response to the banning, there were global protests and outraged women in the millions who feared the risk that their bodily autonomy would be infringed on. Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale boomed in sales, which speaks to the future that women viscerally fear, and a special fireproof edition was commissioned. It’s been nearly three years since it was overturned, in that time, twelve states have introduced an all-out ban (Alabama, Arkansas, Idaho, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, Oklahoma, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, and West Virginia) and others have introduced heavy restrictions. Some don’t even make exceptions for cases of rape or incest. I can’t hide my disdain for the decisions made by the Trump administration, and I won’t hide the fact that I cried for about a week when he was re-elected this past November.
Roe v. Wade being overturned is a stain on the history of women’s rights, it shows that the government in the United States has little interest in what the people want. Public opinion research shows that 63% of people are in favour of abortion in the United States, and yet here we are with bans and restrictions across the country. The US government continues to prioritise the evangelical Christian right and extremist views that leave a legacy of hate and oppression. The overturning speaks to a larger issue of the reversal of women’s rights, and it presents a worryingly perilous future ahead.
As an American woman with much of my family still living in the US, it makes me worry for their health. Unfortunately, it is all too easy for things to go wrong and if you happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, it can be a death sentence. It’s terrifying to think that women across America might have their lives cut short because they aren’t receiving essential medical attention. It’s an astounding prospect that a country that was founded on progress can regress so quickly.
Yet despite how upsetting receiving that news was, I have grown accustomed to being disappointed or even disgusted at what has become of the place I called home. It is a dystopian experience watching the country that was meant to represent freedom, liberty, and cultural diversity shift into a symbol of violence, misogyny, racism, and hate speech. It seems all too common that a sense of hopelessness grows when looking into the future. The seed of fear has been sown, that every right can be revoked, every agreement overturned, and voices can be silenced.
I look to the women in my life who carry the silent weight of misogyny on their faces and hear the growing anxieties about more and more violence against women. I remember protesting for women’s rights when I was a teenager, people demanding that our rights be protected and to honour the thousands of women who trailblazed before us. Those who fought tooth and nail for even the most basic rights, whether that be access to education or being given the right to vote. But America has made clear that it’s not up to us anymore and I worry that other countries may follow suit.
words by: Olivia Nilsen design
by:
Katie Storrie
The idea that we might be born with predetermined traits, or even lives, has sparked curiosity and debate in many cultures for centuries. Is it possible our choices are already set in stone to lead us along a pre-written destiny?
Ancient philosophies and religious views promote the concept of fate. In Greek mythology, for example, the Morai (Fates) were believed to weave the threads of life to decide each person’s destiny. Hinduism’s concept of karma tells us that our actions in past lives shape our current one, with Christianity and Islam holding the similar idea that everything is in God’s plan.
It's also interesting to see how often fate wins over free will in literature. For example, famous tragedies like Shakespeare’s Macbeth and Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex show the protagonists trying to escape their destinies, only to fulfil them in unexpected ways.
For those who don’t believe in these beliefs or writings, modern views like scientific determinism argue that all human behaviour, including every action and thought, results from a mix of genetics, environment, and past experiences. This really shakes the idea of free will, suggesting that everything we do is predictable and based on a cause-and-effect relationship. While it’s nice to think that we have complete control over our lives and what we do, we will never really know if we’re simply treading the path meant for us instead. Across history, fate remains a compelling answer to the unknown – are we really choosing or just naïvely following a script?
words by: Jessica Evans
The idea that we might be born with predetermined traits, or even lives, has sparked curiosity and debate in many cultures for centuries. Is it possible our choices are already set in stone to lead us along a pre-written destiny?
Ancient philosophies and religious views promote the concept of fate. In Greek mythology, for example, the Morai (Fates) were believed to weave the threads of life to decide each person’s destiny. Hinduism’s concept of karma tells us that our actions in past lives shape our current one, with Christianity and Islam holding the similar idea that everything is in God’s plan.
It's also interesting to see how often fate wins over free will in literature. For example, famous tragedies like Shakespeare’s Macbeth and Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex show the protagonists trying to escape their destinies, only to fulfil them in unexpected ways.
For those who don’t believe in these beliefs or writings, modern views like scientific determinism argue that all human behaviour, including every action and thought, results from a mix of genetics, environment, and past experiences. This really shakes the idea of free will, suggesting that everything we do is predictable and based on a cause-and-effect relationship.
While it’s nice to think that we have complete control over our lives and what we do, we will never really know if we’re simply treading the path meant for us instead. Across history, fate remains a compelling answer to the unknown – are we really choosing or just naïvely following a script?
words by: Alanah Blayney
design by: Eleri Watts illustration by: Eleri Watts
For centuries, society has dictated a woman’s role - a devoted wife, tireless worker, and now, a hyper-independent hustler. While expectations change, control over women’s choices and roles remain. Each era has crafted its version of the perfect woman, but are these shifts genuine progress or new ways of telling women what to be?
In the Middle Ages, women were either saints, witches, or wives. The Virgin Mary was the ultimate role model in medieval Europe - pure, nurturing, and selfless. The Church reinforced this ideal through strict laws and customs, ensuring women depended entirely on men. Similarly, Confucianism imposed its version of female obedience in the Song Dynasty of China. The Three Obediences dictated that a woman must submit to her father, husband, and son. Whether through Christian morality or Confucian hierarchy, the message was the same: female autonomy was never part of the plan.
As European empires expanded, they didn’t just impose political rule - they reshaped gender roles. With colonialism came the global export of Victorian ideals, reinforcing the idea that a woman’s purpose was to be virtuous, passive, and dependent on men. In British India, the British justified their rule by portraying Indian women as helpless victims trapped in a barbaric society. Practices like sati (widow burning) and child marriage were condemned - not to empower women, but to paint British rule as a civilising force. Yet, before colonialism, Indian women had been scholars, warriors, and rulers. Under British rule, new laws restricted their legal and economic autonomy, pushing them further into domestic life.
By World War II, the UK relied on women to maintain the war effort. Inspired by figures like Rosie the Riveter, women worked in factories and managed industries while men were away. Yet, post-war, the illusion of progress faded. The government reinstated marriage bars: a policy forcing women to leave their jobs after marriage and propaganda glorified domesticity as their true calling. The fight for autonomy had begun earlier; the Suffragette movement won the vote for women over 30 in 1918, but only for those who met property requirements. By 1928, women over 21 gained voting rights - a significant victory, however, women of colour, especially those in the British Empire, remained politically and socially excluded.
The narrative shifted again in the late 20th century with the rise of the career woman. Women were expected to pursue education and financial independence, but still within societal limits - films like Working Girl and Legally Blonde showcased ambitious women finding success. Serena and Venus Williams excelled in tennis, proving women could thrive in male-dominated fields. Cher’s remark, ‘Mom, I am a rich man’, symbolised a rejection of financial dependence on men. Yet, as independence became the new ideal, women faced pressure to ‘have it all’ with their social status, economic stability, and beauty, all without showing signs of struggle.
Fast forward to 2025, expectations have evolved once more. Modern women must be self-sufficient, financially independent, and effortlessly put-together. If the 1950s housewife was confined to the home, today’s woman is confined by perfection. Social media fuels this pressure. TikTok’s ‘It Girl’ aesthetic tells women to wake up at 5 AM, journal, exercise, have a six-figure career, and never rely on anyone else. Pop culture reflects these shifts. Artists like Lady Gaga challenge traditional femininity, while others, like Sabrina Carpenter, embrace hyperfemininity, proving independence isn’t one size fits all. TV shows like The Handmaid’s Tale and Scandal portray strong, complex women. Still, even these narratives often prioritise emotional toughness over vulnerability, reinforcing the idea that women, regardless of identity, must handle everything alone. Yet not all women have the privilege of being self-made. Pay gaps, gender-based violence, and unequal access to education and jobs mean that independence is still out of reach for many.
While women today enjoy more rights and opportunities than ever, freedom does not always equate to autonomy. Throughout history, society has dictated who women should be, each period imposing control under the guise of progress. The truth is, there is no single way to be a woman. True empowerment arises not from fitting into another mold but from the freedom to define one’s identity on one’s terms, without pressure, judgment, or limits.
words by: Samira Abbey design by:
In what ways did your academic experience prepare you for your career in journalism, including your roles within quench?
My time at Cardiff University played a huge role in preparing me for my career in journalism. My BA focused purely on the theoretical aspects of journalism, but I knew that I wanted to get a taste of the practical side too. Before starting university, I was writing a weekly blog, but had never really experienced writing copy to strict deadlines before. So I decided to join the Quench contributors page on Facebook to test the water. Volunteering to write articles for the magazine and website gave me a taste of what to expect, and I absolutely loved it.
As I progressed from a contributing writer into editor roles for Quench, I learnt how to effectively write a brief, edit copy, pitch stories, use content management systems and – perhaps most importantly – juggle brainstorming story ideas, filing copy, writing my own pieces, and staying on top of my actual coursework! My involvement in Quench without a doubt cemented my love for this industry.
While my BA was theoretical, my MA was entirely practical. The Magazine Journalism course helped me develop the skills I had learnt at Quench and prepared me for the fast-paced and multi-faceted nature of journalism. As part of my MA, I was required to complete compulsory work experience, which you had to organise yourself. I spent two weeks at Time Out, two weeks at Women’s Health, and two weeks at Woman & Home. This month was invaluable – it allowed me to take all the skills I’d learnt over the years into professional newsrooms, and allowed me to see that this is actually a viable career option for me. I managed to land my six month freelance contract with Woman & Home off the back of this two-week placement, and the rest is history.
What motivated you to pursue a master’s degree at Cardiff University after completing your undergraduate studies?
I absolutely loved my time as an undergraduate at Cardiff University, and felt that the staff within the school of JOMEC always went above and beyond. I began to seriously consider my post-uni options towards the end of second year, and completing a master’s degree seemed to be the only thing that I actually wanted to do.
My time spent writing and editing for Quench helped me to realise my passion for storytelling, and helped me to recognise that I could begin to make a living from writing. When looking into course options, many staff in JOMEC encouraged me to take an academic route with a view to perhaps going onto complete a PHD. But I knew that my heart lay with the practical side of journalism, and specifically with magazines. I looked at similar courses at different universities, but Cardiff University’s Magazine Journalism course seemed to cover the most ground. And it was an added bonus that I was already settled in the city.
The course was one of the most intense years of my life, but I use the skills I learnt during my Masters every single day in my job now. It is a crash-course on how to succeed in this industry and covers literally everything you need to know, from commissioning stories to media law practices. I knew that if I wanted to carve a career in journalism, I needed more real-world experience, and I really believe that without my MA degree, I wouldn’t have landed a job so soon after finishing my studies.
What guidance would you offer to aspiring magazine journalists looking to break into the field?
I would definitely recommend trying to get as much work experience in newsrooms as you can. Aside from my roles in Quench and my own personal projects (such as writing a blog and launching my own zine), I had never undertaken professional work experience until just before my master’s began.In the summer between my BA and MA, I sent out some cold emails to independent magazines and managed to get a few weeks of work experience at two different titles.
Then, during my MA when organising your own work experience was compulsory, I did the exact same thing – but this time to national titles. I never in a million years thought I’d receive a reply, but I ended up spending time working for Time Out, Women’s Health and Woman & Home.
Maddie Balcombe, 23, graduated with a First Class Honours in English Literature, Media, and Journalism from Cardiff University in 2023. After a gap year, she pursued an MA in Magazine Journalism, which she completed in September 2024 and she will graduate with a Merit in 2025.
At Cardiff, she worked as Contributing Writer, Features Editor, and Deputy Editor at Quench, later becoming the Columnist during her master’s. Maddie freelanced for Woman & Home magazine’s health team and, after six months, secured a full-time role as Editorial Assistant at Ideal Home magazine.
How did you balance job applications with academics, and what advice would you give to students in similar situations?
It can be really hard to stay on top of applying for jobs when you’re still in the ‘uni bubble’ of sitting exams, submitting essays and then celebrating when they’re over. But journalism jobs are so competitive, so I think knowing it would be hard to find something helped me to prioritise it.
The contact hours on my MA were long, and it wasn’t uncommon for us to be in JOMEC from 9–5 with an hour break for lunch. The staff on the MA always told us to view the course like a job, and I would definitely pass this advice onto students who are struggling to balance responsibilities.
Particularly during undergraduate studies, contact hours are a lot less intense and independent study is greater. But if you know you’re ‘working’ from 9–5 on certain day, you might find it easier to carve out time during these hours to update your CV, post on LinkedIn, and apply for a few jobs. Also, don’t feel guilty for setting time aside for this over your studies – it’s still productive, just in a different way.
What draws you to magazines specifically, and what makes them your preferred medium of journalism?
For me, magazines feel very nostalgic. My mum would often get them from the corner shop for me as a child, then I would always pick up issues featuring my favourite celebrities as I got older, stuffing them all into the magazine rack in the corner of my room that definitely wasn’t big enough for my growing collection.
But professionally, I like the pace of the magazine industry. My current role is predominantly print based, meaning I’m working three months ahead. I get to take a little bit more time crafting the stories, sourcing images and speaking with sources and brands, compared to if I was working in news or broadcast journalism. I also love the life cycle that comes with magazines – the issues I work on will be on the shelf for a month, so it always fills me with pride when I see people picking it up to read, or if I spot an old issue on the coffee table in the hairdresser. I really value that sense of longevity that you don’t always get with other mediums.
Do you have any exciting projects or goals you’re currently working on or hope to achieve in the future?
I’ve only been in my current job for four months, so I’m still learning a lot as I go. But I’m beginning to pick up some new responsibilities and can’t wait to see where this will take me in the future!
words
by:
Maddie Balcombe design
by:
Katie Storrie
Mae’n fwy haws I fyw trwy rhywun arall yn lle bod yn gwbl chi eich hun