EDI Commuter
Written By Zara Ahmad
It’s 5:30am and Heart Radio blares out from my radio alarm clock. Cyndie Lauper’s melodious voice enters my dreams – this girl does want to have fun, and it turns out waking up at 5:30am is part of it. Now, unlike many on YouTube, what follows is not an inspiring story about the 5K run and deadlifts I did before the sun rose. There was no early morning chef mode to create a nutritious, all-natural, protein-powder-creatine-filled smoothie plus a cortado. Instead, placement is calling, and I must commute in for an 8am tutorial ahead of ward round – three plus hours of standing in which I will (hopefully) learn something relevant to my exams and escape the ever-watching eye of ASR unexplained absences for another day.
Many things shocked me about clinical years and medical school in general, mostly because I applied in a pandemic-fuelled haze under the guise that medicine could take me anywhere I wanted. Where exactly I wanted to go, I am still not quite sure about, but it took me to a regular pre-sunrise commute. An experience in resilience, but not something that gets you portfolio points for your dream job.
While I scurried through tunnels underneath the City and awkwardly semi-hugged people I do not know to retain my balance on a tube train, others were, in my mind, fast asleep after having the luxury of staying up late. Imagine my shock when I discovered that some people would head into the library early to study before tutorials and lectures. The thought of such a thing had never crossed my mind. And it had never come to my mind for good reason – my lengthy commute was its own limiting factor. In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, my commute stood as an imposing figure, looming up to 3 hours long, somewhere between love and belonging and safety needs. Never thinking of coming in early is perhaps best explained as failing the Mental Capacity Act based on incomplete information. I was provided with an illusion of choice.
Many institutions champion EDI. Visibility is but one form of it, but, as the knowledge required for our exams and on placement sharply differs, so does EDI theory and reality. There are demographic markers – precise, calculable, pertaining to ethnicity, religion, gender and sexuality, which lend themselves to representation and conversations. As important as, I do not question, these are, diversity is not as neatly categorical as some of these checkboxes on paper. There are groups simply not addressed: commuters, ever promised better timings for socials and non-drinkers, invited to post-meeting socials that inevitably wind up at a pub or bar.
That is not to say that no effort has been made. I am aware of RUMS clubs that seek to do brunches and potlucks, alongside Phineas bar doing alcohol-free games nights, and RUMS Review’s own Café Social posed an inclusive alternative. However, when the social centrepiece every year for many is Tour, a weekend that famously revolves around alcohol, it does not work to tell those that do not drink that they should come along anyway and have fun. The expectation that non-drinkers have learnt to convincingly perform enjoyment for the benefit of those drinking is not a true levelling of the playing field. Everyone is invited, but not everyone belongs.
Each medical school has its own vibrant flavour. I was once asked how it felt to go to ‘the party university of London’. The vivacity that churns through UCL is always exciting, with the main campus being a social hub and neighbouring TCR and Oxford Street, making UCL feel like the epicentre. The work hard, play hard attitude that dominates at RUMS is a positive force. I would not have become half as confident both on and off wards without the drive instilled in me by the academic and social environments of this university.
Ultimately, personal challenge in any form does not make you less of a medical student and does not detract from the kind of doctor you will eventually become. A central belief that your aspirations are achievable is essential, because if you made it this far, then you are made of enough mettle to make it for many miles more.
However, institutions have a responsibility to not live in the past when it comes to the culture of medicine. Money may be found for numerous library renovations, but I have not seen the creation of separate, consistently alcohol-free facilities that are open late, with the appeal of comfy sofas and a pool table (you should see my rebound shots). Such ideas may seem radical and overwhelmingly opposed by the pub culture so prevalent in Britain. But if we do not create space for integration, then there will always be someone standing out in the cold on a train platform, headed back home.
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