27
Columns
SWAT Asking for help can be extremely hard for most people. Whether it’s assignment stress, something gone wrong in your personal life, or you just aren’t feeling like yourself, we often assume these emotions will pass. However when they don’t, it is common for people to feel lost and isolated, with no clue what step to take. If you do feel like this (and most of us do at some point or another), VUW has a huge range of services on offer to support you including student health/counselling, wellbeing workshops, student support coordinators, the Bubble, disability services, and many more. At times it can be daunting to ask for help, or sometimes you just don’t really know where to turn. As hard as it is, the support at university is amazing. If you are in a first year hall of residence, you also have access to a larger variety of sources for support. Not only do you have your RA’s, who understand exactly what it is like to be a student, you also have student support coordinators in every hall, who are always keen to offer advice, assist with getting extensions, give course support, or can just be an ear to listen where needed. If you aren’t in a hall, there are still numerous support options available that are easily accessible. Student counselling is open every day of the week and you can visit the reception. To make an appointment online, you will need to fill out a self-referral questionnaire. Once it is completed, you will be contacted by the Student Counselling team. If this seems like too big of a step, you can always pop into the Bubble and have a chat to one of the peer support leaders. Or attend one of the wellbeing workshops. These are available at different times throughout the year and have everything on offer from sleep to managing anxiety and body focus. They are an awesome way to get help in a group environment and can actually be really fun! — Courtney Varney
POSTGRAD INFORMER For the last three weeks, I have had the privilege of researching coral reefs for my Master’s in Timor-Leste, and it got me thinking. The Timorese people live in, what would be considered in New Zealand, abject poverty. Their houses and their possessions are spartan to the point of dereliction. Living insulated lives (and we do, believe me) can lead to a certain set of assumptions — that they are deprived, that they lead unfulfilled lives, and are to be pitied. My experiences both in Timor-Leste and last year in Indonesia have challenged these assumptions. Lack of monetary wealth does not diminish culture, happiness, or, most significantly, dignity. They still attend church and school, all of which have a uniform which is rigidly adhered to. They still have fun at the beach on the weekend. They still have hopes and dreams they aspire to, and fears that they avoid. Their lives are no less rich than ours. As always, it is almost transformative to become a minority. To be stared at, and hear the occasional calls of “Malai!” (“white person!”). To be different and unusual, out of place, and with foreign customs. If you told the people of Atauro Island you spent money on food at a supermarket, they would laugh themselves silly at your stupidity. Why would you buy food, when the ocean and plants are right there? Being relegated to a societal novelty through appearance alone is something everyone should experience. It makes you realise that context is powerful. What seems pitiable to us is just the world for them. They live it every day — it is normal. The fact that it contrasts so heavily with our normal does not justify condescension. Difference is not inherently negative. They may appear to lack in what we consider necessities, but this would be an ill-informed view. They require very little from us, least of all our judgment. — Josh Brian