Una Clifford, 1998

Una read Modern & Medieval Languages at Clare. She is now Senior Advisor, Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging at the European Investment Bank. She lives in Luxembourg and is Mum to Maya and Orhan.

Who is your greatest Clare influence and why?

Whilst many names came to my mind when I was asked to think about my greatest Clare influence, I could not shake the voice in my head that kept repeating one name: Jan Tobin.

Jan was the College nurse in my time at Cambridge. Jan had an innate ability to make you feel safe and cared for. But, it was her quiet confidence that was the real inspiration to me. I had the pleasure of seeing Jan both in my personal capacity, and also in my role as President of the UCS. No matter the situation, whether surrounded by students or fellows, Jan was never shaken or unnerved, and she always had our best interest at heart. Her kindness was unparalleled.

Una's Story

I hadn’t known anyone who had been to Cambridge and there was no one in my small Northern Irish grammar school who could advise me on the admissions procedure, much less what to expect when I arrived in Cambridge. Nonetheless, for as long as I can remember, Cambridge was where I wanted to study.

My first introduction to Clare came through the weighty paper prospectus that I had ordered. If I close my eyes I can still see Clare’s dedicated double spread. I am not quite sure what it was but, from the first time I flicked through the colleges, there was only one option for me.

My only wobble came at the time of the interviews. All applicants being interviewed from an MML place were gathered together in the Forbes-Mellon Library to sit a written exam. In hushed tones, the boy sitting next to me starting asking me a reel of questions: how much training I had done for the interview; how many practice papers I had sat; and what my school’s success rate for offers was. When I simply smiled and told him I was here to give it my best shot, he looked at me sympathetically, wished me luck and told me I would need it. For a minute, I was gripped by a wave of cold fear – perhaps I was too different and not what Clare was looking for. Then, the paper was handed out and I dived in. Perhaps it was luck, but I remember my interviews with Professor Philip Ford and Professor Alison Sinclair with great clarity and, although I was afraid to admit it at the time, the overwhelming sentiment I took from those experiences was of pleasure.

The next memory flash of Clare that hits me is lining up for Matriculation photo. We were chatting nervously, laughing at each other in our gowns, forming lifelong friendships. I remember clearly feeling two strong emotions in that moment. Firstly, just how lucky I indeed was to be surrounded by these wonderful people, each so unique. And secondly, in spite of our many differences, how much I belonged and felt at home in Clare.

My time at Clare was joyous and exciting and, on occasions, stressful and everything in between. I threw myself into life – inhaling my studies, singing in Catz choir, playing hockey and dancing in Clare Cellars on the weekend. Spurred on by some friends and UCS President James Knight (1997), I decided to stand for President of UCS in my first year and soon found myself sitting with a committee of peers putting the world to rights from the perspective of a Clare undergrad. 1999 was the year when the college proposed not to hold its renowned May Ball on an annual basis, in part due to the damage caused to the gardens by the festivities. In my new role, I was invited to present the case for an annual May Ball to the Fellows. Once again in my gown, I took the long walk up those stairs above Hall where we would see the Fellows disappear regularly. Albeit a little intimidated by the audience and my surroundings, I held strong and presented our case. And we won. May Ball that year was the sweetest celebration.

The flashbacks thereafter are many. Sitting on the bridge with my Sainsbury’s bags at my feet is a recurrent image. Summer in the gardens. Popping into the Porter’s Lodge to see if my mum had sent me a new package of goodies. Finding hidden nooks in the UL to write essays (or daydream). Closing my eyes and soaking in the glorious sounds of Clare Choir in the chapel. Theatre and concerts with friends in other colleges. Too many moments to mention.

My final flashback of joy from Clare comes thanks to our Senior Tutor, Professor Simon Franklin. In our final year, we MML students had bugged him relentlessly to let us into the secret of our final grades in advance, thereby sparing us the agony of searching for our names on the lists at Senate House. In his inimitable calm and quiet manner, he politely but steadfastly refused. On the morning of the results, I did my usual dance of popping by my pigeon hole in hope of a letter from friends or family. In it was a small envelope with my name his beautiful handwriting. The original is stored carefully in my parents’ home in Ireland, but it went something like this:

Dear Una, Whilst I cannot possibly say for certain and I would advise you nonetheless to visit Senate House, I would not be surprised if you were to find your name in the list of MML students who have received a… First Class Honour Degree. Warm congratulations, Simon.

This simplicity of the message, his generosity and understanding, and the contents of that letter combined magically to transform that tiny moment in time into a memory that I will never forget. I sat on the steps at Memorial Court and cried with joy.

Nowadays, I work for the European Investment Bank as their Senior Advisor on Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging. The EIB does incredible work, funding global projects that bring social justice, improve access to fundamental services and spur innovation for the sustainable future of our planet. My goal in this role is clear. I work every day to ensure that all of our employees carrying out this important work can feel that they are valued, that their voice is heard, that their contribution is needed and that they belong.

I learned this at Clare.