Medway students to meet man behind new theme park plans

Students on the Medway Campus will get to meet the man behind Kent’s answer to Disneyland in March.

Project leader Tony Sefton will be talking about the £2 billion project which could create up to 27,000 jobs in the local area.

Under plans unveiled last October, London Resort Company Holdings wish to build a “Disneyland rival” on the Swanscombe Peninsular, near Dartford in Kent.

The company were successfully granted a license from Paramount Pictures to use their name for the entertainment resort, which would include Europe’s largest indoor water park, live music venues and hotels.

The park, which if built would be the fourth biggest resort in the world, would be right next to Ebbsfleet Station, which is on the London St Pancras line from Gillingham.

Mr Sefton will be talking about the impact the park will have in the local community, as well as the difficulty in developing and planning a resort.

Kent Business School, who have organised the event, said on their Facebook page: “This event would also be a great chance to network with the project leader regarding the 27,000 jobs this development is estimated to create, to help get your foot in the door early.”

The talk by Tony Sefton is from 4pm to 5.30pm on Monday, March 4 2013 at Kent Business School on the Medway Campus (Room M3-04), and is open to all students. To attend, email kbsm@kent.ac.uk or attend through the Facebook event.

(Written by Kieran Watkins for the Medwire)

Coming out has brought me closer to my family

It’s taken me five years to accept I’m gay. Five years of anxiety, denial, depression, unease and deceit. Five years to acknowledge my sexuality and prepare to tell my family. How long did it take them to accept it? About five seconds.

Coming out to my family and friends was perhaps my proudest achievement of 2012. I might have bungee jumped off a bridge in New Zealand and volunteered as a Games Maker at the Olympics, but nothing compares to the relief of finally accepting and being accepted as the person you really are. It has boosted my confidence, made me feel at ease with the world and brought me closer to my family.

It was midway through secondary school that my feelings towards boys started blossoming, although in hindsight it was probably earlier then that when the feelings were noticeable. Flashback to my hot neighbour across the road and it all comes flooding back. I had a love of drama, singing and dancing from such an early age, which for most parents would raise the alarm. It’s certainly something my mother was well aware of.

“You’re really gay? I’ve known since you were nine!” was her response when I came out to her in early September last year. Picking the perfect moment - she was driving when I told her - she pushed her foot down slightly harder on the accelerator then she would normally as we drove up the dual carriageway. Car crash averted, thankfully.

I knew my Mum would take it well. In fact, I knew she knew. When I was still curled up inside her womb she famously told my grandmother that I would grow up to be a ‘ballet dancer’, much to my grandmother’s horror (she declared I’d be a footballer. I hate football. Sorry Grandma.) So even from birth it looked like I was destined for the life of a gay man. And here I am. Happy, comfortable; out and proud.

Nevertheless, it still took me five long, emotional years to accept it. Secondary school is no place for a gay boy. I was taunted by boys for being ‘camp’, quizzed by bitchy girls about my sexuality and ridiculed for my love of acting and the limelight. Thankfully, I hid it well. Choosing to ignore it at first proved the best option, and kissing girls and having a couple of girlfriends kept the bullies at bay. But a boy who hated sport, was only friends with girls and loved Hairspray and Strictly Come Dancing was always going to be coming out the closet at some point.

College swiftly passed by and again, the rumours persisted, but my stance remained the same. “It’s just a phase,” I’d repeat to myself every day. I used to make resolutions every new year that I wouldn’t look at a man in a certain way, that I wouldn’t watch any indecent videos online, but it took only a few days for my hormones to get the better of me and admit defeat as I flicked through Youporn.

Living in the country didn’t help things. No one was gay, apart from the stereotypical gay’s who everyone loathed and who I tried to avoid on most occasions. There was no one to talk to. There were perhaps one or two friends I knew at school who felt the same way, but speaking with them only made me more and more confused. Bottling it up and trying to forget about it made me depressed and emotional. It meant I kept my distance from my family, locked myself up in my room away from my family and their rumours. On one occasion, when I overheard my mum and younger brother discussing my sexuality (he used to tease me regularly, despite being very welcoming and protective now), I felt so low I was determined to change.

University was the moment for change. Getting away from my family seemed the perfect opportunity to forget about my previous feelings and start afresh. Knowing no one else was perfect, it meant people didn’t gossip about you or question your sexuality. It was perfect. I was kissing girls, living the life of a fresher.

But I was living a lie. Deep down, I knew the act couldn’t last forever. The other good thing about university is that the majority of people here are open and liberal about attitudes to sexuality. I mix with lesbians, bisexuals and gays on a day-to-day basis and no one complains, no one stares and no one is secretly gossiping about you behind your back.

On one drunken night, I kissed a boy who was staying with my friend for the weekend. I knew what I wanted, I knew I had to finally do it and face up to it. And it felt good. From that point on I knew I was gay, I just had to learn to be comfortable with it. A few months down the line and after meeting a few guys through Twitter for dates, I finally met one who made me see me for who I really was. A 19-year-old student hoping to crack the world of journalism, who also happens to be a homosexual. It was the first moment in all my life that I finally felt comfortable, and most of all, happy.

And from then on, I’ve never looked back. Soon after telling my Mum, I told my university friends and childhood pals. All were happy for me, even if most of them were unsurprised. Coming out was easy. Trying not to make a big deal out of it was reassuring, like a weight lifting from your shoulders. Once I had told a few key friends, I waited for the rumours to do the talking. Now most people know and there have been no problems.

My relationship with my family however has been the key change. Short of throwing me a ‘coming out’ party and belting out that infamous Diana Ross song, my Mum stood by me as I told the rest of my family. Despite a few shocks by one or two relatives, everyone has been understanding and supportive. Now I’ve told them, we can go back to normal. And that’s just it, I am normal. I have not changed who I am; my personality hasn’t gone from a moderate Neil Patrick-Harris to an over-excited Alan Carr.

I’m still Kieran. The white elephant in the room has been addressed and there are no more awkward glances between my family, glances that ask, “Is he? Isn’t he?” I can even joke about it to my Mum, who recently sent me a 'coming-out' card with two Ken dolls from Barbie getting married. I guess I can only thank the woman who bought me Abba Gold as my first album when I was ten (yes that happened, and yes my favourite song is Fernando.)

So my big bad secret turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to me. A happy, single gay man looking forward to a successful, colourful future.

(Picture: the card my Mum sent me)

Quick note to say if you want to discuss any issues I've raised or the experiences I've been through, or if you just fancy a natter, you can talk to me through my twitter account: @kieranwatkins or via email, kdj_says_hey@hotmail.co.uk

Why everyone should embrace Freshers at university

So the car is packed full of your belongings and one too many toilet rolls, you’ve tearfully waved goodbye to your friends and family and you’re ready to start your new life at university. We’ve all been there, and it’s weird to think that you’re waving goodbye to eighteen or so years of your life for pastures new.
Sounds a bit daunting really. But not to worry, you see universities across the country have this thing a week before studying commences where you basically get drunk, make new friends and experience the reality of uni life. It’s called Freshers’.
Freshers’ for me was one of the best weeks of my life. Standing outside my new flat with a hundred or so bags, I was apprehensive about my new life. Worried about making new friends, getting along with flat mates, doing well on the course etc. But it’s best to leave any worries you have in the car.
As soon as I entered my flat, I was welcomed by my seven flat mates. They turned out to be a fantastic bunch of guys to live with over the next year. You might start off having trouble understanding their accents or remembering their names, but it’s nothing a few beers wont sort out. In fact, having moved in on the Sunday afternoon, I was off out to my first flat party later that night where I made more friends and started a turbulent relationship with my new found love, alcohol.
Your first night in your new flat is a little bit daunting to say the least, but all it takes is a few hours kip and you’re ready for the week ahead. And what a week it will be.
I kicked off my Freshers’ with an introduction to my course, which was great. It meant I finally met my other course mates, who all turned out to be a perfect, colourful bunch. In fact they ended up (and still are) my drinking buddies during Freshers’. Nights spent at Coopers were brilliant with the fancy dress themes just adding to the excitement. The School Disco was my favourite, with all the cheesy tunes you could wish for.
The good thing about the Medway campus is that there are so many people from all different walks of life. It’s great to make friends from different cultures and countries, and having three universities sharing the same campus means you’re guaranteed to make lots of friends.
Apart from the nights out and barbeques on campus (you won’t need feeding during Freshers’, practically all the food is free), the Freshers’ fayre is a good chance to socialise and make new friends by joining up to various societies. And if that doesn’t take your fancy, then the various stalls offering discounts and free pens are pretty handy too. So you won’t need to bring any stationary with you to uni either!
My course also put on a special dinner for all the new first years, which can only be described as the last supper; the only decent meal you’re going to get for the next year.
The downside for me last year was the horrendous Freshers’ Ball, which I hope will be a lot better this year. When you hear that your friends at other uni’s have the likes of Florence & the Machine and Tinie Tempah headlining at their Freshers’ Ball, disappointed is just one of the many words I could have used to describe our ball.
The headlining act were ok, but the fact I can’t remember their name sums up how rubbish the ball was. Apart from a face painting stall and an over-priced food counter, entertainment was scarce. In fact, it seemed fitting that whilst sitting in the middle of the dance floor wondering why I‘d stumped up the cash for this rubbish evening, Sak Noel’s hit ‘Loca People’ would play in the background. What the fuck indeed! Fingers crossed it’s better this year.
So what did I learn by the end of Freshers’ week? Well there’s the fact my liver should be nominated for an Oscar for the performance it put in over that week. Or that I’ll go to great extents to get freebies, like swapping a pot of pee at the Chlamydia stand in return of a free keying (totally worth it). But most importantly, I realised that university was to be the start of a fantastic, fun-filled three years of my life, with new friends, new challenges and new opportunities. So don’t miss out on Freshers’, because once the week is over, you’ll be praying for it to happen all over again. Written by Kieran Watkins for the Medwire

Review of the Week: Just Dance 2

Computer games. I have often viewed them as a bit of a novelty. From computers to PlayStation's, the world of gaming is now part of our lives whether we like it or not. But does it interest me? Not really. I mean, most of them you end up bored with after one hour, or ranting expletives at the screen. Maybe you do both - as in my case - and then just end up giving up, wondering how you're ever going to get those wasted hours of your life back.

But it's a bit different with Just Dance 2. It has been around for a little while now, but the dancing sensation which sees you moving to songs as they flash up on your screen, is a massive hit worldwide.

I ventured onto the Just Dance scene a year ago, when I was playing with friends at a drunken party. It was so much fun I just knew I had to buy it, despite the £24 price tag. It was hilarious, high octane fun which had me laughing from start to finish, as well as sweating.

It's a simple game. Played on Ninetendo Wii, you basically have your controller in one hand and move about to the music, copying the dancers on screen as they dance to hits such as Outkast's 'Hey Ya' and Harry Belafonte's 'Jump the line'.

You can play on your own, with a friend, or a whole group of friends - just watch the furniture, or each other, as one bruised elbow and a broken lampshade told me! The more the merrier, especially if you have had a few drinks and need to let off some energy.

The song choices vary between each game, with Just Dance 2 offering a competent collection of everything from Katy Perry to Boney M. Dances are usually rated on level, with the player having to copy each dance move perfectly to reach the highest score possible. There are various game modes too, including the complicated 'Simon Says' round and 'Duet' modes.

Ok, the dance moves can be bizarre and very complicated. In just a few songs, I went from Russian dancing to an African raindance, back to shimmying around the room, giving Beyonce a run for her money. Honestly, if I ever went for Strictly Come Dancing, they would sign me up as a professional!

The game also has the song lyrics on screen, forming  a full on affair of music and dance, which together with a tipple or two, results in a rather amusing yet thoroughly rewarding night of entertainment.

Just make sure you have a glass of water with a towel on side ready. You're gonna need it!
4/5 stars

Picture Courtesy of Wikipedia

(Anyone that wishes to challenge me to a Just Dance duel, please leave your name and number and shit will hit the fan!)

Follow me on Twitter: @kieranwatkins

There's no place like home?

It feels weird being back home after months away at university. There is something quite eery about staying in your room for the first time in months, moulding a shape in your previously worn mattress, putting your clothes back in to old and dusty mahogany draws. It just doesn't feel right. Or rather, it doesn't feel like home.

Let me explain. I have been rather preoccupied since September with my new life at university. A lethal cocktail of work, alcohol, friends and more work has fuelled my independence, even if in the meantime, it has taken up my time. It has completely changed my way of life. I am an independent man now, who respects the value of money, the importance of friendship and the reward of handing your work in on time. I'm more level headed, and definitely more opinionated.

I guess you could say I have found my true calling in life. I love journalism, which is not to say I didn't love it before, but I now view it as my future. Without university, I would still be stuck in Hampshire pondering on my ambitions and dreams.

Which is why Hampshire just feels weird. Like a part of my life I don't want to return to. Seeing family, catching up with friends - yeah, I've missed them but it's almost as if they've become strangers. I don't understand my family now; their routines for example, really irritate me. So much so that even now, whilst writing this, I am confined to my small bedroom to protect my sanity!

I'm not saying I dislike Hampshire. On the contrary, I love it. Give me Marks & Spencer, chardonnay and green fields anyday over Medway's offering of 99p store, Frosty Jack's and shit-stained concrete. But it's different. Somewhere fresh and interesting.

The people are different in Medway, from all parts of the world. The locals may be considered more Jeremy Kyle-like material then say, The Archers-type from Hampshire, but it sure makes for a fascinating environment. Medway is certainly warmer than Four Marks, and the buzz of the thriving town is much more appealing than the chorus of bleating sheep and the twitching of the blinds coming from your nosey neighbour in my cul-de-sac in Hampshire.

So as I stare at my former bedroom walls, scanning my childhood books and the place where I used to store my old diaries,  I ask myself the question; will I ever be able to call this place home again? Maybe. It's always going to be here I guess. There's a certain familiarity of the Hampshire way of life which I've grown to love. Even when I'm away in Medway, I'm forever reading the local newspaper and scanning the East Hampshire District Council planning pages.

But besides familiarity and friendliness, I want new things. And the university life that I'm experiencing in Medway ticks all the boxes. I've even started to refer to it as my home, which six months ago, I refused to contemplate, despite feeling pretty comfortable with it now.

So here's to my new future, wherever that maybe. I might not be able to view Hamsphire as my home anymore, but it's still going to be here, wherever I decide to go.

Pictures courtesy of Wikipedia/ my own

Follow me on Twitter: @kieranwatkins