Words: Tess Hardy (she/her)
Her words whispered to me and she had me: of course, she was GUM.
As I write this article, I think back to my very first time writing. When I first came to university, considering myself far too dyslexic and untalented in the ways of artistic articulation, I didn’t write. Not one bit – not even a silly diary. I didn’t even read. Both were always a long term, personal Cold War. The irony of me coming to uni to study English Literature is not lost on me here, but give this unlikely protagonist a chance. While bumbling around the freshers’ fair, a table far off in the distance caught my wandering eye. That was the first time I saw her. Sprawled across the table, bare for my eyes, enchanting and seducing me with her soft and supple appearance, oh yes! Blah blah blah, backstory, course title, name of halls, blah blah blah…
Her words whispered to me and she had me: of course, she was GUM.
I was hooked. In the space of a year, I had written about everything from male toxicity in the restaurant industry, to synthetic diamonds, to the history of sex toys, and more! In the utter dullness of my degree and on the brink of leaving Glasgow altogether, I was brimming with words which flowed out on the pages, each piece a whole world of thought I had been waiting to explore. I had found what felt like a coven of cool older sisters, whom I wanted to emulate – I cherished their brains and beauty.
When the team applications came around for second year, I was buzzing. I would have taken any role: opening the doors, taking out the bins… anything. But digital media manager I became (I am not good with computers!). This year was one of the hardest years of my life, but amidst all the commotion, my faithful was GUM. I began writing poetry to deal with my strife and found a love of my life unbeknownst to me. I made graphics, cooked the biggest vat of chilli for a potluck, and played my first ever DJ gig. I made some of my closest friends during this time, and I learned so much about myself and the person I wanted to become, both on and off the page.
Growing up reading Grace Dent, Catlin Moran, and A. A. Milne, journalism had brought me up in its embrace. I mean HELLO, having a one sided rant without having to speak to anyone where I can say anything (and I mean anything from smut to condemning the zionist entity) is an absolute treasure trove. I think what struck me more than the capacity within myself to muster up strings of sentences swimming with sibilance, were the people and the pride. I found confidence in myself that I had never had growing up as a neurodivergent girl. At school, my spelling was awful, and my grammar was awful, but I had this calling to learn, discover, and investigate and share my findings. Little Tess was suddenly released into a world that nurtured, guided, and welcomed her with open arms.
Although the person I am has changed with each article, I’ve realised I write in a very ritualised way. It’s like a playlist – each article has a song in my mind that you can hear through the words. Billy Bragg’s Power in a Union fuelled my socialist soul for my piece, What a Steal!, in GUM’s issue Satiate. The clanging coin sounds in Money by Pink Floyd helped me uncover the depths of the Big Tech Oligarchy and its danger to democracy in my piece Byte Back: Navigating the Cyber Race.
Maybe I am letting my emotions and sentimentality get the best of me, but when this article is edited and published, I’ll look back at these words and find parts of myself I had forgotten. I can see the last three years of my life on the page – snippets of seasons in sentences. Some are bad memories that can stay there on the page, but most are so wonderful and precious and I will hold them to my heart forever. To know the pride that radiates from my mum showing her friends any article I write at book club will always make me cry.
So to GUM, oh, my sweet GUM…
To Jess, Ava, Zola, Lottie, Fleur, Martha, Frannie, and so many more, thank you.
This year I published the first issue of my own magazine BITE, which would have never happened without GUM. I learnt more in Room 201 of the McIntyre building than in any lecture or seminar, and for that I am eternally grateful. They say you meet your first love at university, and I can say this is true. My voice was heard for the first time at GUM and I don’t plan on being quiet!
