Time Constraint Assignment, Sand and Burgers

 Time Constraint Assignment

It’s funny how confident I felt about choosing my topic for the Criminal Law exam—and yet, when it comes to Law and the State, I feel completely unsure. With just one week left to decide, I find myself hesitating—not between two topics, but all of them.

Unlike some of my fellow students (from what I’ve heard), Law and the State hasn’t been a favourite. But I wonder if it’s because of my age, or perhaps my background in government-sponsored media education, that I developed such a particular interest in this module.

Maybe it’s because the lectures felt so grown up—proper, old-style sessions filled with rich content, delivered by lecturers who knew their topics inside out. They always seemed to have the right answer. Or maybe it’s my weird fascination with how systems function and how we all fit together in them. Perhaps it was even the quiet rebellion I felt as others grumbled through lectures I found so well prepared and genuinely engaging.

Whatever it was, I find myself now struggling—not to find what I liked, but to choose what I liked most, because in truth, I loved it all.

I loved Parliamentary Sovereignty—for its sheer power, its potential, and its consequences.
I loved the topic of government—understanding how things operate behind the scenes.
I loved Judicial Review—the idea that even the most authoritative decisions can be overturned based on legal interpretation and the strength of individuals.
And I even enjoyed the sessions on European law and Brexit, especially having lived right through it all as it unfolded.

So, choosing a topic is proving tricky.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I realised just how hard the decision would be.

It was a Bank Holiday Monday, and a compulsory trip to the beach was in order. Our family met up with a fellow student and her family at one of the most stunning beaches in Wales: Llansteffan. My favourite place on earth.

But it’s only May, and we froze. Not even my husband’s incredible homemade burgers could warm us up. The kids didn’t seem to notice and played in the sand as if it were July, but we older ladies kept our hoodies firmly on.

The dog escaped only twice, and while my mind had hoped for a rest, we couldn’t help ourselves—we talked about the exam.

My friend already had her preference picked out. When she asked me, I couldn’t decide on the spot. I knew we’d be getting a multiple-choice question on Brexit, but as for the second topic? I fell silent.

In the end, I had to admit defeat and simply said I’d choose on the day, after reading all the questions.

So now, in the midst of my revision frenzy, I’ve taken down the Criminal Law posters and replaced them with Law and the State ones. And every time I walk past them, the decision seems harder still.

As the days pass and the moment of choice approaches, I find myself rewinding to that beautiful afternoon on the beach—sand everywhere, my four-year-old and fifteen-year-old building castles and entertaining my friend’s two little girls. I think about how good we have it. About how patient and wonderful my husband is, flipping burgers over a beach BBQ with such calm joy. And about how, despite all the flaws in any government, we are lucky. I feel safe. I feel blessed by the beauty of my surroundings and the people in my life.

That’s why it’s so hard to choose—not because I see the flaws in every topic, but because I see the good. Because I believe it works, or at least can work. And my hope for the future is that those students who dislike Law and the State come to realise: they are the ones who will be shaping its future.

If not us, who will change the world?