The last couple of months have been rough. Not “there’s no seats in the link” rough. More like “I tried to rebuild the student movement with a whiteboard and a lack of sleep” rough.
Please don’t misinterpret this, I love my job. There’s no greater privilege or pleasure than being your President. But I can’t pretend that it hasn’t been hard. Somewhere between trying to return OUSA to surplus, fix the tertiary system, building a student bar, change the attitude of the city towards students… I have become a boring son of a bitch.
Not in a quirky “I actually like jazz” way. I mean genuinely boring. A pain to be around. The kind of guy who turns a pub chat into work chat. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to have fun. I thought a successful year meant a strong Ori and ticking every box on our reform agenda.
A friend of a former President told me most OUSA Presidents develop a “do or die” mindset. At the time, I laughed. Now? I think they were being generous. I’ve been carrying the collective weight and anxiety of 20,000 students, on top of my own in my first “professional” job. And honestly, I let that crush something important. In all of that pressure, I forgot what actually sits at the heart of the Otago spirit: We were never supposed to take ourselves that seriously.
The Critic tabloid photoshoot was the most fun I’ve had all year. Not because it was strategic, or on-message, or part of the 5-year plan, but just because it was stupid. Glorious, pointless, handsome but very deeply stupid. So I’ve been asking myself; how can we hold space for the serious problems we face without making it all soul-crushing.
I went back and read the column I wrote when I beat Mr. No Confidence and was elected President. I had written a throwaway line promising to keep “the Otago sense of humour.” I think somewhere along the way, I traded that humour for hopelessness. But I’ve come to believe something: the bravest thing we can do right now is laugh while staring down the system. Not because it’s funny, but because we still believe this experience should be something we love.
I’ve also noticed something else. A quiet voice floating around campus saying things like “students don’t care anymore,” “nothing’s going to happen,” “why bother?” Where have I heard this? In meetings, in conversations, the library, and flats. This isn’t just defeatist, it’s contagious. I’ve caught that bug, and started thinking that all we can do is manage the decline, make some noise, graduate and move on.
But this isn’t who we are. Otago students have never been passive. We’ve protested, organised, and won real victories on issues like hardship grants, course cuts, rental fairness and the right to own a bong. Not because we had the perfect leadership or the perfect plans, but because we dared enough to give a fuck.
Now you might be writing a letter to the editor saying, “Liam, this isn’t very fun. Also, isn’t this your job? If you’ve got a problem, do something about it.” Honestly. Fair. I used to think that too. Seven months in, I’ve realised something: no OUSA President can do anything alone. Because the real power isn’t here in my office. It’s in you. It’s in us.
So here’s what I’m asking for the second half of my term, not just for me but for all of us. Let’s stop treating student life like it’s a problem to endure. Let’s start treating it like a community to thrive in. Let’s meet the housing crisis with reform and ridiculousness. Let’s demand free education and make jokes about Central Wi-Fi. Let’s believe in something better and make it happen with passion, mischief and genuine love for each other.
If I’ve only achieved one thing by the end of this year, let it be this: that students at Otago believe in their ability to change seemingly immovable things. This is where you come in, if you’ve ever called bullshit on your flat being too cold, your fees going up or even just thought “this isn’t right, someone should do something” then come and be that someone. Chat to the Exec when you see us around. Come to a forum. Sign a petition. Email or message us. Show up at my office. But most of all show up, make your mark, get shit done and crack some jokes while you’re at it.
Liam White
President