Editorial #886 The paths we don’t plan for
By Isla Mustin
As my second year studying at Durham draws to a close, I have found myself reflecting on my degree and the unexpected path that led me to study Archaeology. When I first arrived, I had no real idea what archaeology even was, partly because I refused to prepare for something I was completely dreading, and partly because I was convinced I’d never actually become an archaeologist. While that may still be the case, the subject has surprised me far more than I ever anticipated. It’s taught me far more than just pottery and inscriptions; archaeology has transformed the way I think, question and approach not just the ancient past, but the present world around me.
When applying to university, my heart was set on studying History. I had loved it throughout school, continually supported by teachers who nurtured this passion and pushed me to be my best. As A-Levels loomed, I had heard from every other university, except the one I wanted – Durham. My dismay continued to mount, until I got the dreaded UCAS notification. It wasn’t History, but Archaeology. However, what began as a reluctant choice has become one of the most rewarding and transformative decisions of my academic journey.
My first year was full of ups and downs as I struggled to connect with the subject; despite making amazing friends on the course and going on countless fantastic trips across the North, I couldn’t shake the frustration that I wasn’t able to conjure any real passion. Only once I realised the lessons waiting to learn were not confined to the lecture hall did I appreciate the value of archaeology.
While my peers were enjoying the post-exam Durham sunshine, my compulsory fieldwork had me up early and outdoors, digging what felt like from dawn to dusk. The first few days my body ached, I couldn’t stand the mud, and I questioned how I was going to get through three weeks of it. With time, it became fulfilling accomplishing something so tangible each day; I could see my progress slowly take shape in the ground before me. I stopped my grumbling and persevered, finding satisfaction in the slow, deliberate nature of the excavation and the patience it required.
By the final day of the dig, I had uncovered absolutely nothing. Not a single artefact, bone or sherd of pottery.Yet, I came away with a sense of achievement and a new feeling of connection to the world around me. This didn’t come from what I discovered (or the lack thereof) but in the act of searching itself. Getting up each day to spend silent hours focused on the ground beneath me left me feeling meditative and patient with the uncertainty, attuned to details we often overlook.
Although academically challenging, this year has offered a multitude of new insights and experiences. During the Easter break, I was fortunate to spend two weeks in the beautiful Lake District, working with Durham’s Archaeology Department to create a Roman archaeology trail for a local museum. This was my first opportunity to approach archaeology not as a student, but as a storyteller. Being able to visually and transform my research into something the public could connect with through the landscape showed me that creativity and academics didn’t need to exist separately; I could use the two together to animate the past, and in doing so, connect more deeply with my subject. Archaeology has made me a more open-minded and curious person, teaching me the value in process, the importance of patience and the value of discovering meaning during uncertainty. Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing about the path that brought me here.
This edition of Palatinate arrives at a time of uncertainty for many Durham students. With the pressures of Easter term, industrial action, and the marking and assessment boycott, it’s easy to feel disheartened and disoriented about what lies ahead. But if studying archaeology has taught me anything, it is that uncertainty doesn’t need to be something to fear. Often, it is through losing sight of where we thought we were headed that we uncover something more meaningful. By leaning into the unfamiliar and the uncomfortable, we give ourselves the chance to grow and to discover new directions we might never have considered.
Image: Hayleigh McLean
