Layers

My final Master’s class featured a thought provoking one man rendition of Henry 5th - part script, part story, with side discussions about leadership resilience throughout. I didn’t really know the history or the play, but it was a compelling session and a good soft landing for our last day. The after class activities included a scavenger hunt (21,000 steps!), a dinner, and many, many hugs. I’m not a hugger so this was challenging, but it was sad to say goodbye as we won’t see each other in person till July next year. A few last Oxford pictures- Balliol seen from my hotel window, Christchurch seen from my College. 

One of our cohort gifted a beautifully embroidered piece of fabric to some of the women. I had wanted to wear it as a wrap at the formal dinner on Thursday night but was worried about showing up in homewares. Fortunately one of the ladies wore it to class on Saturday, helping me determine the appropriate use - #NOTatablerunner. The colours are lovely and it’s very warm and goes perfectly with the clothing I brought. Picture below. 

I’m spending time in York and Edinburgh before leaving the UK. This is my second trip to York having visited once before while I was living in Leeds for work. I chose to stay at same hotel as last trip, a beautiful building which was originally the railway company’s headquarters - loads of history and charm. Think sweeping staircases, high ceilings and beautiful old details everywhere you look. It’s lux and cosy and relaxing. Last time I stayed, the restaurant was booked out (see the 2021 blog for the dramatic tale) and I made sure to book in advance for this visit. It’s a big call, but the lasagne was the best I’ve had in my whole life. The description on the menu is “ fifty layers of pasta, rich bolognaise sauce, aged cheddar bechamel, grated parmesan and pecorino, smoked tomato sauce and basil oil”. Nothing here sounds unique, but wow. Just wow. Somehow I have a photo of the carrot and apple soup, not the lasagne. I was probably too busy eating it. 

A walking tour of York (I love these things) proved insight into the history of the place, with evidence all round of the five invasions, from the Romans to the Tourists. It’s a beautiful city, and the weather was uncharacteristically sunny. There are so many places that are familiar from historical books and shows, for example the house where Henry VIII stayed with Catherine Howard while on the King’s Progress, apparently the place where she started secret assignations which eventually culminated in her beheading. York Minster is spectacular from the outside although I am yet to make it inside. A lovely tea stop at Betty’s,complete with Wedgewood and silver plate, capped off the York experience. 

I’m thinking a lot about layers — of time, of place, of self. Life, like history, isn’t one clean story — it’s a collection of layers, stitched together over time. Some are hidden, some fray at the edges, and some — like my beautifully embroidered wrap — are meant to be worn and shared, warmth and meaning intertwined. 

Awash

The rain is continuing, making some of our planned activities unappealing. A sizeable group had planned to attend a rugby match, but freezing temperatures and heavy rain drove the less stoic of us to a cosy dinner at the Permit Room. At my end of the table, a few of the cohort with Indian and Pakistani heritage launched into an affectionate (and competitive) critique of the restaurant’s dishes compared to their mothers’ versions. That flowed into a discussion of the appropriate chai to serve when your parents come to visit, including cost, ease of brewing and sugar content. I couldn’t contribute but it made for fun listening. 

As always, the excitement of travel is dragged back to earth by one basic need - laundry. Having been away for over a week I had a backpack of washing to do.  This required a small logistical campaign—complete with supply runs for detergent, a search for a laundromat (Oxford boasts only one, astonishingly), and a scheduling puzzle worthy of military strategy. The lone laundromat was a half-hour walk away, with hours that seemed deliberately inconvenient. For a university town, this  seemed wrong, until it dawned on me that the colleges must have their own laundry rooms. A complex planning exercise to followed to secure laundry powder, and find time (35 minutes for a wash, an hour for a dry). A 5am trip to my college, complete with a backpack of clothing confirmed that Pembroke does in fact have a laundry. 

I felt like a proper student using my access card to let me in the smaller door in the giant wooden one at the wicket gate. Card swipe, quiet creak, a brief sense of trespass. Inside, the porter, cheerful and unflappable, directed me down what must be the most picturesque path to a laundry room ever - photos below. 

The days are fantastic however they are long - crammed with content and conversation - and I’m struggling  with the lack of downtime. My head is soooo full of intriguing ideas and information but there is just no space to process it. In the normal world, I’m extroverted and I like interacting with people, but right now I’m feeling overwhelmed and I want MY people, not these people. I do have a few special friends here that I know will be lifelong connections but in the midst of the this crowd of people I’m feeling alone. We’ve been provided with a ton of content in this session on resilience, living with ambiguity, being comfortable with paradox - handily all the things I appear to need this week. I’m getting ample opportunity to practice the theory- who needs case studies when you’ve got real life handing out assignments?

Common Room

Oxford is cold, rainy, and despite this, delightful. The city centre is compact and it’s easy to run into friends just by walking down the street or looking through the window of a pub. On Monday night a number of us attended a debate on Cancel Culture. From outside, the Sheldonian Theatre glows like a lantern. Inside, the timber-tiered seats creak with history. There is a very fancy painted ceiling and the whole experience is somewhat overwhelming and an incredible venue for a debate. Oxford, it seems, loves to make even disagreement look majestic. 

The debate itself wasn’t fantastic- lots of squabbling and not enough listening and responding, but I loved the experience. We had dinner afterwards and dissected the whole thing, caught up on life in between modules, and generally reconnected. Inspired by the debate, I signed up for a life membership of the Oxford Union and hope to get to some of the debates in the future. There is a who’s-who of names that show up to debate and the buildings and grounds themselves have a private club vibe. Here’s a photo of the library in the Union. The wifi password made me laugh - Bhutto1977. Very Oxford. 

The first day of class was tiring but high quality and culminated in a guest spot by one of our cohort, Tim, who coaches the Australian Women’s rugby 7’s. His explanation of the game to the group was hilarious and involved live participants (I was a hooker) and we received merch for participation. Group drinks were followed by dinner (and then more drinks for the hardy). I’m exhausted but loving it. It’s a wildly diverse group of people but we all share an interest in questioning and understanding and growing that creates a strong connection.

I have written this post while sitting in the middle common room of my college, Pembroke. It’s quiet and comfortable, although littered with empty coffee cups and half a nutmeg cake on the sideboard. The cake looked good but I have no idea how long it’s been sitting out and whether there are mice, so I refrained. 

Plane Daze

The trip from home to Oxford has become somewhat surreal. This is my fifth trip in a year - each one a 24-hour transit that feels more like a Narnian wardrobe passage: I step in on one side of the world and emerge, disoriented but somehow unchanged, at Heathrow at 6 a.m. 

This other world is strange but familiar, exciting but exhausting. It greets me with grey skies and brisk air. I’m travelling for my last scheduled face to face session of my Masters. I didn’t blog the other trips as I figured the education part is a bit dull for everyone, but will try and put up a few posts this time as there is extra travel before and after Oxford. I finally managed to extend my trip to fit in a few extra days in London, spending quality time with a very dear friend from high school. We drank coffee, walked, talked, ate, laughed and did a modicum of sightseeing in the process. The sightseeing was secondary to our time together, but of particular note was a trip to the Victoria and Albert Warehouse. It’s their storage facility for things not on display, packed on pallets but visible. Think downstairs at IKEA, but with art, collectables, furniture and fragments of other cultural memories. Amazing. Photos include David Bowie’s boot, and a whole Frank Lloyd Wright room. 

We also handed over 25 pounds for a one year pass to the Transport Museum in Covent Garden. You can pay for one day, or one year - same price, so….. Once inside, we quickly realised that it was unlikely we would ever use the other 364 days of access, but there were some interesting things and we chatted away and enjoyed ourselves. Some inspired soul included realistic accessories in the horse drawn bus display. See photo for details. 

Of course there is no rest for the wicked, so I was up at 3am on Monday to do prep work for a work meeting at 6. I haven’t managed to sleep well yet and was feeling a bit stressed and wobbly. The meeting ran overtime so it was a scramble to get from London to Oxford in time for 9.30 meeting at the Business School about my educational goals. There is drenching rain and it’s colder than expected, but Oxford is beautiful in any weather and I’m glad to be back. 

Mastering Oxford

Forty nine almost strangers filed into the lecture room for our first face to face session in the Executive Diploma of Organisational Leadership. I say almost strangers, as the programme team had provided early opportunities to connect - an online meetup, a WhatsApp group, and a few enterprising souls had connected over drinks or dinner in the lead up to the course. 

Walking to my first day of “school” was a pinch me - I’m actually at Oxford moment. I deliberately took a path that led me by Radcliffe Camera, and despite my minimal social media presence, took a quick selfie for posterity. Our lecture room at the Said Business School, was well equipped, comfortable and set up ready to go with name tags and some Oxford merch. We were served a smorgasbord of frameworks and concepts over the next four days, covering decision making, power and influence, organisational change and motivation. I’m surprised how quickly we became a cohesive group, but the design and structure was clearly engineered to encourage group bonding - shared meals, small group chats, work groups in breakout rooms, and opportunities to tell personal stories that related to the topic areas. As a leader, it was valuable to see how the style of our programme leader, Sue Dopson, motivated, engaged, and encouraged us to work as a team. Simple actions such as noting the birthday of a cohort member and getting us to sing happy birthday, showing data about our demographic similarities and differences, and gentle humour made us comfortable and connected. It’s hard to describe how fun it is to be presented with new ideas in the company of bright curious people, some well equipped with a wicked sense of humour. This humour made our team debates in the Oxford Union a hilarious experience, despite the freezing temperature. 

I’m here in the airport waiting to fly home, reflecting on the week. I wish that, prior to attending, I had written down what I expected, vs what I experienced (note the appropriate use of the Oxford comma). Memorable experiences include:

• the bewildering volume of administrative and procedural information, necessary but overwhelming and luckily all on Canvas to review later

• The formal dinner at our college, Pembroke

• the anticipation, slightly edged with anxiety of debating in the Oxford Union 

• The laughter and discussion over quality meals (catering was fabulous) 

• The opportunity to hear different cultural solutions to the same problems (eg legal action vs hug it out).

 

Those of us staying in Oxford on Saturday night ended up at the Turf Tavern for drinks and a meal. Witnessing the noise, the conversation and the camaraderie you would never believe that this was the same group that started out as strangers five days earlier. I was originally worried about fitting in at Oxford - that critical thinking might translate to critical individuals. The reality cannot be further from the truth. Our tutors, the support team, and the cohort were warm, inclusive and helpful. It was a fabulous start to our learning experience and I can’t wait May.

Traveller there is no path- only ways across the sea

I realised I haven’t actually communicated what I’m doing here so, better late than never, (note the very appropriate use of the Oxford comma) I’ll explain. I’m undertaking  the Oxford Strategic Leadership programme. One of their flagship programmes, it’s been running for over forty years. They take a small group of experienced global participants through small-group tutorials, lectures, interactive workshops and experiential sessions. The blog title today is a translation from a Spanish poem, mentioned by someone at some stage during the week. I felt it represents the ethos behind the week of learning and also was a nice nod to the long trip home. 

The theme for Thursday was influence, kicking off with a session about the purpose of a business run by the very first dean of the business school. It was clever and funny and beautifully presented. Furthermore I agreed with his sentiments, so a nice start to the day. Fun fact, on the basis of a UK survey of the most trusted professions- in 2024 football referees are trusted less than nurses but more than clergy or police. 

We were then privileged to have Richard Olivier (yes son of Laurence) spend the rest of the day with us, firstly presenting a one man Shakespeare performance of Julius Caesar, part story, parts actual text, weaving in comments about political influence and motivations. It was so compelling and honestly I’ve never seen anything like it. Even those of our cohort with English as a second language were mesmerised. The play set the scene for a brilliant theory session about the archetype model - work people be warned, I’m likely to drive you crazy with my pack of archetype cards once I’m home. Our last morning activity was a simulated political game where we individually picked a theme to get behind and then gathered factions and supporters. Fun, but in a room of experienced leaders trying to win others to their teams it was pretty wild - the machinations even continued into the lunch break. My tutor had organised for chips to be on the menu at lunch time and the chicken salt was passed around with great success.

Richard had saved the  death oration part of the play till after lunch.  It was presented complete with a body made of pillows and a bed sheet, with a surprise appearance by one of our tutors as Mark Antony.

The final session of the day was a very strange workshop. One of the participants volunteered a live problem he needed solved. We made a 3D model of the people and the issues, using a person to stand somewhere to represent a CEO, a board member, various employees, risk, the future etc. We moved them around to see how they felt standing in different positions with different sight lines. Weird and uncomfortable,  and I have no idea why it worked however it was actually effective. I need to read a bit about this. I don’t quite get it but… we did get really good insights and the owner of the problem said what we came up with was correct. For those that have continued to read this work part of the trip- I apologise for the somewhat dry content, but you know me…I love the leadership theory stuff. 

We had a cheery farewell dinner followed by a bonfire. I called it a night at about ten but a few stalwarts made it till after eleven, leaving them a little dusty on Friday morning.

Although we had half a day of content left, in hindsight Friday seems like a whirl of packing, tidying up loose ends, feedback and goodbyes. There was a funny moment when the Aussies (five of us) gathered together to get a photo, then a bunch of other people wanted individual photo with the aussies. We did a group one after all the single ones. 

It’s been an exhausting week but without doubt the best course I’ve ever done.  We started the week with a room full of friends who hadn’t met yet, and now we’ve met, we’ve talked we’ve laughed, some of us have cried and we’ve learned. So much. In our small tutorial group I received some pretty positive personal feedback from people I really rate. It was a bit embarrassing to hear, but I’m owning it and I’m coming home with more confidence, conviction and energy for the future.

Unlike minded, like hearted

We spent the morning in Oxford, starting with a session in the natural history museum. It’s a very cool place, with a stone cathedral style outside and a greenhouse feeling inside with an iron and glass roof. It was built as a teaching institution as well as a museum in the mid 1800s and the vibe is a mix between a science lab, an art gallery and a museum. In a lovely touch, the angel at the top of the entrance arch is holding a slide where a cell is splitting . 

We had a bit of time to explore inside, which I spent in the Pitt Rivers section- a curiosity cabinet of a room, dark, crammed with cases organised by category, not geography or history: “Baskets”, “Items used in burial rites”, “food preparation tools”. Sometimes they were really detailed specific categories, sometimes broad. The labels are hand written and there is no particular order to the arrangement of the categories, or the objects within the cases. I was wildly curious about how they decided on the categories, and whether the sub level of the category was to make sure all the objects in a category fit into one case -“Hang on , this group doesn’t fit- quick split it into fish catching tools large and fish catching tools small”. I found it much more engaging and interesting than the Ashmolean.

The theme this morning, was paradigm shifts, with a physical box of Darwin’s Botany Bay bug collection and a first edition of his book as props. Side note, there were definitely not enough different bugs in that box and I’m questioning Darwin’s work ethic. Less intense than the last few days it still generated good discussion and thinking about patterns of change and reception of new ideas. 

The programme heads have very cleverly integrated a tour of Oxford by using it as a chance to talk about how out buildings and environments both reject and shape our culture. It was effectively the experiential version of a theoretical session on organisational behaviour which we had on Tuesday. One of his really interesting points was that it’s hard for the University to look outward when its very college buildings are oriented inward, keeping out anyone not already inside. Our guide was a fabulous communicator, very knowledgeable and engaging and it would have been perfect, but for the biting cold. We could hardly wait to get back inside. 

Our afternoon started with a session on persuasion. I was unimpressed with the presenter, and thought he was poorly prepared, lazy and trite, but I’ll put up my had and admit I was a bit tired at this stage so it might not be a valid view. Certainly some others really liked it. A coffee and an afternoon snack helped me settle a bit, necessary for the next session which was a deep dive with my tutor group buddies about me. They ask questions and give feedback and generally help me put some plans in place about what next. I don’t mind this stuff- it’s intense and exhausting but really helpful and I love my group and my tutor so it’s a very safe space. 

The dinner tonight was a surprising success. We were in individual break out rooms in groups of 9, and were asked to bring a poem. Over dinner we each read our poem and talked about why we picked it. I can see some of you rolling your eyes while to read this but it was great! People picked interesting things and brought a number of cultural beliefs to the table. Conversation topics inspired by the poems included the death of a father, having 24 wives in Nigeria, and facing fear. Such a lovely experience to sit and discuss different ideas in a collegial warm hearted space. The title of this post is the motto of the Rhodes Foundation (we saw the building today) and feels so appropriate to describe today’s experience.