OPINIONS

POLITICAL CORNER Lower the voting age already!

Young citizens are already engaged in the political process

OLIVIA VISSER // STAFF WRITER

What gives someone the right to vote? Or, what gives us the right to deny others the privilege? The case for restricting the voting age to 18 and up lies in the belief that adolescents lack the judgment required for voting decisions; this couldn’t be further from the truth. Young people are valuable members of society, and should be given the same legal voting rights as adults.

It’s not that young Canadians are apathetic about politics. A nationwide youth survey of Canadians aged 10 to 24 found that 88% of participants had thought about who they would vote for in the previous election. A pervasive myth, one respondent suggests, is that older generations consider young Canadians too immature, careless, or deluded to engage in the political process. But that same respondent reminds us that “every generation has people that are all of those things.”

If the voting age depends on someone’s involvement in society, then 16 year olds should definitely have the right to vote. Many adolescents have “adult responsibilities” like caretaking, working, and paying bills. Moreover, young people (and their children) will be around the longest to experience the effects of policy-making. A recent study published in Young people deserve a say in the issues that affect them. PHOTO: Vincent M.A. Janssen / Pexels

Science found children born in 2020 will experience a “two to seven fold” increase in extreme climate events, compared with those born in 1960. Shouldn’t youth have a say in policies that will impact their futures?

Research by the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement found that young citizens are passionate about social issues, and largely hold different views from previous generations. Climate change is one of the leading issues driving youth political involvement, yet adolescents still aren’t allowed to express their beliefs by voting. Instead, we see young activists driving social change. The School Strike for Climate movement was likely the largest climate protest in history, and it was led by student activists. How’s that for political engagement?

We also know that political involvement in younger age groups leads to future involvement. Scholar Mark N. Franklin argued that “voting is a habit” and “people learn the habit of voting, or not, based on experience in their first few elections.” When Austria lowered its federal voting age, the rate of first-time voters was much higher among 16–17 year olds, compared with 18–20 year olds.

The movement to change the federal voting age from 18 to 16 is growing rapidly across the country. In December 2021, a group of young Canadians took the government to court. They argued the voting age restriction violates their Charter rights, which include the right to vote. The Canadian Senate is also discussing the issue. Recently, the NDP launched a bill to lower the voting age. MP Jagmeet Singh said he feels that democracy is threatened as reasoning to grant youth the right to vote.

We’ve already seen successful campaigns to lift voting restrictions for women, Indigenous people, and Asian Canadians. Young people, with their unique perspectives, should be the next bloc of Canadian voters to join the franchise.

PERFORMATIVE CHANGE SFU often takes credit for achievements by progressive student movements

SFU plays progressive only once the real progressives have forced the school into action

LUKE FAULKS // OPINIONS EDITOR

Here’s something that never fails to be a crowd-pleaser: powerful institutions claiming to be progressive after being shamed into progressive action. And what’s even better? When that same institution fakes good cheer when thanking the activists that held its feet to the fire. Many thanks for doubledipping on all that, SFU.

Last year, SFU350 got the school to fully divest itself of investments into planet-warming, emissions-intensive industries. That’s great! After eight years of protesting, and after having been threatened for an inoffensive mural on Convocation Mall, a student-advocated policy change was underway.

Except you wouldn’t know it from the school’s selfcongratulatory press release. The divestment announcement overconfidently talked up the school’s “strong record of increasing commitment since 2014” — an assertion that, if true, would have negated the need for SFU350’s ultimately successful divestment movement. More to the point, the release then proceeded to bury the group responsible for applying progressive pressure by mentioning SFU350 at SFU should be active instead of responsive when it comes to advocacy work. ILLUSTRATION: Amy Guo / The Peak

the bottom of the page, towards the end of a lengthy list of organizations. Plus, I kid you not, “SFU350” is styled incorrectly. And of course, this isn’t a one-off.

Last year, SFU’s Senate approved the hiring of 15 Black tenured professors in a huge step forward for representation on campus. In quotes to The Peak and CBC, SFU president Joy Johnson celebrated the Senate’s approval of the motion. When speaking to The Peak, she said, “The motion approved by the Senate is an important step forward as we work to ensure Black faculty, staff, and students feel included.” But, again, the movement is the result of tireless work toiling on the part of Black folks to get the motion across. “The university would like to acknowledge and thank these individuals, student groups, and SFU350, for advocating for responsible investment and divestment over the past eight years.”

Advocating against your program. Advocating for better than what you gave them. And yes, “Eight years.” This after they felt they had to go on a hunger strike because you didn’t listen to them. “Eight years.” It’s an admonition unto itself. Why celebrate your policy shift when your own press release slights the group that demanded the shift had to fight for nearly a decade to get it passed?

PUBLIC REPARATIONS SFU is concerned with its image, not Black students

SFU is reacting to, rather than preventing, Black trauma

CHLOË ARNESON // NEWS WRITER

In 2020, after violence against Black citizens produced intense public pressure, universities across North America leaned into equity and diversity initiatives. SFU, for its part, has issued statements of support and announced a partnership with Resilience BC Anti-Racist Network. That’s all great; however, SFU is stuck playing catch up when violence against its Black students occurs, rather than pre-empting racist incidents out of a sincere desire to protect its Black students and staff.

That’s not to say that SFU hasn’t made significant strides in listening to its Black students and staff in recent years. At the start of 2022, the school created a new position for vice president equity and inclusion at the recommendation of student activists.

Despite the new position, it’s worth noting anti-Black racism in academia is deeply intertwined with the university’s most basic structures. Professionalism standards and human resources practices that deal with misconduct or conflict are often unfairly targeted toward Black employees and do not consider the role race plays in the workplace. The university system itself thrives on exclusive excellence, giving ample opportunity for racial bias and discriminatory admissions processes to contribute to the underrepresentation of BIPOC students we see in Canada today.

Black students, already facing those systematic barriers, suffer from a system and locale intrinsically linked with white supremacy. When SFU does act on student concerns, it’s largely in response to a surge in public attention on the problem. Case in point, on December 11, 2020, a Black alum was tasered and pepper-sprayed on campus by a Burnaby RCMP officer before being taken into custody. While a thirdparty investigation found SFU followed proper policies, it remains an incidence of excessive violence towards a Black member of the SFU community. In response, SFU Health and Counselling opened up a space for Black students to discuss racism and receive support. SFU needs to do better when no one is looking. PHOTO: Life Matters / Pexels

For Balqees Jama, president of SFU’s Students of Caribbean and African Ancestry, it points to a larger trend. At a public anti-racist symposium earlier this month, she said, “It seems like conversations surrounding Black students, supports, and implementation only seems to progress at a reasonable pace when there is Black trauma involved and white guilt.

“We’ve been asking for Black health and counselling forever, when did that happen? The conversation started Summer 2020, but it took another case of Black trauma where there was a case of actual police brutality in December 2020 to even get the ball rolling.”

Believe us when we’re speaking, respect our time and our labour

BALQEES JAMA PRESIDENT OF SFU SOCA

Waiting to see high-profile violence against Black people before implementing important support programs is bad enough, but even when SFU does move forward with promising programs, they require the beneficiaries of those endeavors to bear too much of the cost. There’s still only one Black counsellor on the clinical counselling team. While I’m sure Tricia-Kay Williams is an exellcent counsellor, how can one person be expected to heal the entirety of the Black student body? Ebony Magnus, SFU Samuel and Frances Belzberg Library’s head librarian, criticized the reality that university protocols are ultimately designed to protect the institution from seeming racist, and not to protect Black community members. Systemic issues can’t be fixed with counselling.

“Campus safety operates as protection against the liability of the institution more than the commitment to the dignity of Black people. Campus safety staff dismissing racist verbal assaults against Black staff members as non-violent because there was no act of physical violence is not mutuality,” Magnus said.

SFU needs to listen to its Black students, not just when the public is outraged about racist violence, but all the time. Jama was involved with the campaign to hire 15 new Black faculty at SFU to better represent the Black student body. The problem, she said, is that in discussions about Black students, “white administration and institutions make it about themselves.” Instead, she argues, the solution lies in representation at the highest levels. “We need Black admins,” she concluded.

Policies and protections made within the university are shaped by its inherent realities of upholding white supremacy. The school needs a change. And it can start by keeping its ear to the ground when they think no one is watching.

TO BOLDLY GO We don’t need a fully-stocked bookstore anymore

Digital and orderable content should be prioritized at SFU bookstores

NERCYA KALINO // STAFF WRITER

In the beginning, there was paper. But times have since changed. Books have lept beyond paper copies to the digital, and so it’s time for our bookstore to reflect the possibilities of 21st century learning.

Let’s start with this: A bookstore is a monument to the death of the environment. Statistics aggregator The World Counts suggests 42% of all global wood that is harvested is processed for paper production. In technologically advanced societies, the facilities to shift this resource fully online is available. And let’s face it, we’ve all been doing it for years. Who hasn’t pulled up chapters using SFU’s digital collection rather than go fetch the paper copy from the bookstore? Paper!? Where we’re going, we don’t need paper! PHOTO: The Peak

However, there are also some technological hurdles here. Some places still need paper copies. Take my home country, Malawi. As a nation, the personal devices necessary to enable an all-digital bookstore aren’t widespread. Access to internet and affordability of requisite devices is something for any digitally-curious bookstore to consider. SFU, though, has (mostly) steady internet, and many students are probably equipped with the requisite electronics. An emptier bookstore opens up a world of possibilities for the space. At the very least, students will probably feel safer not having to go into a small, crowded space to search for textbooks during a pandemic. If we want to keep the space as a provider of student jobs, we could fully transition the space into an SFU merchandise store. Alternatively, using the floors as space for student clubs would surely be popular for SFU’s wealth of roomless student groups.

PAINTING THE PANDEMIC Quarantine Qapsule showcases powerful pieces created by Asian Canadian artists in the pandemic

Isolation, racism, and nature are among the themes addressed in the digital archive

OLIVIA VISSER // STAFF WRITER

Created in 2020 by Toronto-based actor Nightingale Nguyen, Quarantine Qapsule is a digital art archive that aims to “archive the Asian Canadian experience during the pandemic.” The archive highlights various different works such as visual art, music, film, and more. This year’s Vancouver Quarantine Qapsule is a part of explorASIAN 2022’s programming and is hosted in partnership with Emily Carr University of Art. It expands upon the submissions collected when the project originally began in Toronto.

As someone experienced in researching archives, I was immediately struck by the self-representational aspect of this space. Strict institutional archives can limit an artist’s self-expression, but this space defies those restrictions. All artwork in the collection is non-juried “to allow [artists] to understand the power of community and selfdocumentation.” Giving artists agency over their artwork is presentation is important because it allows them to define their own representation. Most pieces touched on themes of deep emotions and isolation. This showcased a growing need for community representation amongst marginalized groups.

Isolation by Yasmine Ross

Isolation is a melancholic short film about the psychological experience of quarantine. Artist Yasmine Ross describes it as “an honest portrayal of the up and downs, the raw and reflective moments, and the often overwhelming loneliness that the pandemic has beautifully forced us to experience.” I was mesmerized by the film’s moody shots and deep shadows, then found myself inexplicably connected to the subject’s solitude. The piece exemplifies how the pandemic has exacerbated life’s monotony and contributed to widespread mental health problems. on the puppet theatre: two uniquely illustrated blue bears holding up the sun and the moon. The artwork’s details are almost overshadowed by the sorrowful expression of the child overhead. Abad writes that children are taught to “face racism and discrimination by keeping our heads low,” but “staying silent and obedient can no longer be an option.” She created the illustration as a response to the increase in Asian hate crimes following the pandemic.

It’s important to uplift the narratives of Asian creators, especially since anti-Asian racism has been rising during the pandemic. Centring the voices of local Asian artists is a powerful way of bringing attention to perspectives that are often absent from popular media. Through this archive, I expanded my understanding of not just different Asian communities, but the individual lives of community members.

As a disabled person, I found it more effective to browse the digital material comfortably and at my own pace. On top of that, I find it quite fitting that a pandemic-inspired gallery invites solitary viewership from the accessibility of your home.

Kodama Bones by Silke Seiler

In another piece, Silke Seiler employs realism and abstraction to depict driftwood against a stormy blue backdrop. Kodama Bones is a beautiful representation of nature in the midst of the pandemic. The depth of such a simple object is really captivating. According to the painting’s description, Kodama Bones highlights that the “enjoyment of outdoor spaces and sports has skyrocketed as a response to social distancing.” Seiler’s biography says her paintings tribute ancestors who were Japanese internment camp survivors and shipbuilders.

Misfortune Cookies by Pamela Chen

Pamela Chen’s multimedia piece Misfortune Cookies explores negative self-concept through the motif of fortune cookies. Chen writes, “As food is strongly tied to family and culture, the fortune cookies represent Asian adaptability through a lens of ‘otherness’.” Painted onto an 100% cloth rag and embellished with real gold leaf, this work uses the “Americanized idea of Chinese food to voice negative commentary.” Some of the messages peeking out of the cookies include “quit while you’re ahead” and “don’t get your hopes up.”

Not Your Puppet by Katrina Abad

Katrina Abad describes her digital illustration Not Your Puppet as a “response to discrimination and fetishization.” Her piece showcases a dejected-looking child operating a marionette puppet. At first glance, the attention given to the subject’s facial expression is impressive, and the touches of bright red framing the scene are very striking. Upon further inspection, I noticed that I somehow missed the detailing Quarantine Qapsule is featured in explorASIAN festival’s programming.

ILLUSTRATION: Nazmus Sakib / The Peak

The archive can be viewed indefinitely through Quarantine Qapsule’s main webpage, where you will find easily navigable links for different art mediums.