The Power of Cultural Curiosity

These days, we hear a lot about stepping outside our comfort zones — trying new things, challenging ourselves, seeking growth. But today, I want to talk about a different kind of comfort zone: the cultural one.

At university, it's easy to fall into the rhythm of our own discipline. There's the classic divide: Humanities vs. STEM. Literature students flock to book launches at places like Toppings, while science majors attend lectures on quantum mechanics or CRISPR. And that's understandable. With limited time and the pressure to specialise, we naturally prioritise what feels most relevant and useful. But in doing so, are we unintentionally closing ourselves off from something equally enriching?

I’m writing this from BCUR 2025 in Newcastle — the British Conference of Undergraduate Research — after a full day of talks on stem cell innovation, the benefits of cold exposure, and cognitive psychology experiments. For context: I study Classics and Comparative Literature. Let’s just say, these aren’t topics that come up often in my seminars, and that’s exactly why they caught my attention.

This openness to unfamiliar worlds began for me somewhere much less academic: on mountain holidays with my family. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with hiking. I like walking — on flat ground, for short stretches. I definitely don’t climb, nor do I want to. But I’m also not one of those serene types who can spend an entire day reading or meditating in the middle of nature. So, stuck in the in-between and bored, I often found myself with one option: complaining. Loudly and often.

Eventually, that got old for me and everyone around me. So I started looking for something else: local events. Any event. All of them. An interview with a guitarist from a ‘90s rock band? I’m there. A talk on the metaphysical properties of crystals? Sure, why not. A magic show in a community hall? Front row. A discussion on endangered dialects? Even better.

At first, it was just a way to kill time. But, over the years, I realised I was gaining something much more lasting: perspective. Curiosity. A patchwork of insights I’d never have encountered if I’d stayed within the narrow lanes of what I thought I was “interested in”.

No, I don’t walk away from every event transformed. But I leave with a more open mind. That crystal healing talk? A bit much. But the part on meditation stuck with me and led me to try yoga, which I now love. The band mentioned in that random interview? They're now part of my daily soundtrack. These small discoveries became reference points, little mental treasures I could return to later.

One moment that especially stayed with me was a talk by Italian comic artist Giulia Andragna, best known for her work on Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir. I’ve never been much of a comic reader, and I’m well past the age of the show’s target audience, but as she spoke so honestly and clearly about navigating her career, something clicked.

For someone like me, pursuing a humanities degree and often being told it’s impractical, it was empowering to see a person who had turned their passion into something real, who had made it work even in a creative field that’s often seen as inaccessible or uncertain. Seeing her speak with calm conviction, knowing she had chosen the right path, was more than inspiring — it was grounding.

Because, in the end, cultural events aren’t just entertainment. They’re windows. They’re opportunities to see how someone else has made sense of the world, and maybe — just maybe — help you make a little more sense of your own. And that’s something that formal education doesn’t always teach us: how to listen, absorb, and reshape our thinking in response to unfamiliar ideas.

So next time you're tempted to skip that talk or dismiss something as “not for you”, consider this: stepping outside your cultural comfort zone might not change your life overnight, but it will definitely plant a seed. One of the BCUR speakers said today: “Every day is a learning experience.” And if we let ourselves stay curious, even in regards to topics outside those in our chosen fields, we’ll never stop growing. 

Illustration by Hannah Beggerow