March 2014

March 2014

Of Eccentrics and Shattered Glass An interview with former Provost and Trin alumna, Margaret MacMillan. pg.

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From Old to New

Hold the Grits

Exploring the College’s changing facade.

Trinity alumnus and potential Toronto mayor John Tory talks to the Salterrae.

pg.

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pg.

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Content

APRIL 2013

NO ONE PUTS SANA ALI IN A CORNER

M arch 2014 WALLBALL

21ST CENTURY RUSH PUB Can this tradition align with modern progressive values?

The brutal odyssey of Trinity’s blood sport P.

21

P.

18

Our exclusive interview on her public departure from Team Renew

P.

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Features

A Letter from the Editors p. 2 Photocopies James Kingstone p.3

Of Eccentrics and Shattered Glass by:

Kaleem Hawa

Kaleem Hawa speaks to Margaret MacMillan about her time at Trinity, from undergraduate to Provost.

No Campainging!

Meghan Peterson p.7

Pg. 4-6

Trinology Kate Motluck p.8-9

From Old to New by:

Towards a Positive Satirical Intellect Iris Robin p.10

Emma Smith

Emma Smith explores Trinity’s physical history.

Pg. 12-14

Community, Life, and Nihilism Michael Luoma p.11 Grim Grinning Ghosts Veronica Stewart p.15 Date Night Amanda Greer p.16

by:

Hold the Grits

Maddy Torrie and Iris Robin

Trinity’s most famous Tory talks about his time at the College.

Pg. 18-19

Seductive Software Sonia Liang p.17 On The Bookshelves Rebecca Zhu p.20 Things to Do Around Town Simone Garcia p.24

by:

Under the Kilt

Anya Broytman and Christopher Hogendoorn

The story behind Trinity’s mysterious Scotsman about College, Rory Sinclair.

Pg. 21-23

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Salterrae • March 2014

APRIL 2013

Masthead

21ST CENTURY RUSH PUB

WALLBALL

Can this tradition align with modern progressive values?

Editor-in-Chief Hayden Rodenkirchen

NO ONE PUTS SANA ALI IN A CORNER

The brutal odyssey of Trinity’s blood sport P.

21

P.

18

Our exclusive interview on her public departure from Team Renew

Senior Photographer

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Writers

Guy Taylor

Treasurer Zane Schwartz

Anya Broytman Kaleem Hawa Christopher Hogendoorn Michael Luoma Meghan Peterson Iris Robin Maddy Torrie

Salterrae Executive

Salterrae Contributors

Photographers and Illustrators

Copy Editors

Columnists

Senior Copy Editor Emily Jennings

Senior Design Editor

Simone Garcia Sonia Liang Madeline Stewart

Jr. Copy Editor Maddy Torrie

Design Editors Andrew Bryan Helen Picard Josh Oliver

Jr. Design Editor

Donald Belfon

P.

Director of Public Relations Allison Spiegel

Simone Garcia Amanda Greer James Kingstone Sonia Liang Rebecca Zhu

Donald Belfon Dryden Storm Bailey Claire Shenstone-Harris Alyssa Stokvis-Hauer Guy Taylor Maddy Torrie

Staff Writers Kate Motluck Emma Smith Veronica Stewart

Claire Shenstone-Harris Letter From The Editors Men and Women of College and First Years, Spring is springing. Unfortunately, there is yet some slogging through slush and midterms before everyone can enjoy the sun and breeze in earnest.

When the thaw sets in, grab a copy of the Salterrae, take a seat in the Quad, and enjoy.

For current 1T4s and remaining 1T3s, Spring signals oncoming graduation. When they leave, there will doubtless be much reflection on how Trinity has shaped them as individuals. With this in mind, the editorial board has crafted the March issue with a historical bent. In the shining and expectant eyes of an incoming Frosh, Trinity College can seem timeless. Like her students, however, Trinity College is subject to change, and has evolved considerably over the ages – be that through new Provosts, new physical locations and institutional affiliations, or new ideas.

While you read, we hope you will consider whether and how the College – and yourselves – have changed in your time here.

As always, we encourage you to send your articles, ideas, and scathing criticisms to salterrae@trinlife.com.

Stay salty, Hayden Rodenkirchen, Emily Jennings, and Guy Taylor

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James Kingstone • Photocopies

Photocopies An Alumnus’ Look Back By: James Kingstone Several summers ago my father showed me a photocopied letter he had found among old family records. Composed in the late summer of 1865, it was a son’s letter to his father in the days before his first year at Trinity. The family had recently moved from Ireland, and the son – my great great grandfather – wrote of his excitement as well as some of the emotional turmoil he experienced in the wake of the family’s migration. He expressed confidence in the intellectual opportunities available at his new school, reassured his father that the allowance they had agreed on would “exceed [his] needs,” shared some apprehension about arrangements for a carriage to transport him to the station where he would retrieve his trunks on their way by train from Montreal.

Despite the confident tone, and the formality of the style, after a couple of paragraphs you get the impression of a young man having to manage just a little bit – perhaps a lot! – more than he’s ready to. Reading between the lines you see the reining in of nervous energy – excitement and perhaps a lurking dread. Where was his mother? No mention is made of her, and I do not have much detail about the larger family circumstances from that era. When my father gave me the letter, he had been diagnosed with dementia, and our conversa-

Illustration: Dryden Storm Bailey

tions about family were quickly becoming shorter and more frustrating.

My ordinariness was innocent and devoid of charm... “ I arrived at Trinity more than a century later with the same blend of excitement and trepidation, though I’d only travelled from St. Catharines, and any real turmoil I might claim for myself was nothing more than the natural byproduct of the usual confusions and convulsions of adolescence.

I was ordinary, on the mediocre side of ordinary actually, and family mythology had conferred so much greatness on Trinity that I was mystified that I had managed to sneak into the College.

My ordinariness was innocent and devoid of charm, and I had little imagination, so that when I encountered rituals and traditions like pouring out I showed mostly impatience and alarm at the expense incurred when bodies when hurtling across the oak tables and glassware crashed to the floor. When I put up a fuss – in my posi-

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tion as Tallywacker I thought I had some power – the Head of College tried to prevail on me to tone down my criticism and accept that the budget could easily absorb the cost. I took umbrage at his suggestion, refused to back down, and assailed him with what I thought was my incorruptible self-righteous indignation. Nothing changed.

I arrived at Trinity more than a century later with the same blend of excitement and trepidation

It was the 70s, and when I look back now even the more raucous and outrageous assaults on social convention seem quite tame today. Experimental drug-taking assumed pride of place for pockets of residents through the College, but what I chiefly recall is how hard people worked. The broadening of intellectual horizons my great great grandfather alludes to in his letter to his father was very much alive in my day. Students read widely, talked passionately about their classes and the instructors that presided over them, appeared to commit themselves with ferocious zeal to assignments and essays and tests. I did as well, or did eventually, but erratically, and with much less confidence. But I loved the challenge. I had many fine teachers; two in particular come to mind now: Jill Levenson who taught a course on Shakespeare and Rupert Scheider who taught the modern novel and guided me through the nightmare landscape of Patrick White’s novels in an independent study course. They taught me how to read – and to write. Their patience was remarkable, and today I marvel at how regularly, relentlessly and quite unselfconsciously I tested it. My own students can’t hold a candle to me.

Salterrae • March 2014

Of Eccentrics and Shattered Glass By: Kaleem Hawa Photography: Donald Belfon

“I was always having receptions.” Dr. Margaret MacMillan’s voice echoed across the landline. Seated, no doubt, in her spacious office in St. Anthony’s College at the University of Oxford, the now Warden and former Trinity College Provost exudes palpable amusement.

“When I first became Provost, I had a reception. It was just like any other, I believe it had been mostly for some of the older alumni of the college at the time.”

Her voice hardened. “I found it all rather funny. It speaks to how much has changed in recent years. Apparently, one of the alumni had turned around as they were leaving the reception that day and remarked quite plainly that while it had been very nice of the Provost’s wife to come in, they wished the man himself would have made an appearance.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

With that, this interview – originally slated as an opportunity to delve into the nuances of history with one of the field’s foremost thinkers and decorated academics – took a fascinating turn. Before exploring this though, it is important to explain how it all unfolded.

•••

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Kaleem Hawa • Of Eccentrics and Shattered Glass

An Interview with Renowned Historian and Former Trinity Provost Margaret MacMillan “I always loved the messiness of history.”

and even published a book about women.”

MacMillan is in the process of dispassionately recounting the details of a storied career in less time than it would take someone to read an intro to one of her award-wining books. Then she begins to offer more detailed reminiscence about her Trinity experience.

Remarking on how this background in academia influenced her later tenure as Provost of Trinity, MacMillan is clear. “Historians tend to be interested in human beings and human nature. And as a Provost, you really need to like people – so it certainly helped to be a historian.”

“Back when I was studying history at Trinity, it was much more of a structured curriculum. Not as much choice existed as it does nowadays.”

With a laugh, she continues, “and it probably didn’t hurt that we’re great gossips too.”

MacMillan is, of course, referring to the interdisciplinary selection of curricula afforded to UofT students by virtue of programs like the Trinity One streams that unironically bear her name.

“We had phenomenal teachers. In those days, the history department had been in a very nice old house. It used to be a really friendly environment and you could wander in and see people having coffee.”

As if the reverie had suddenly been broken, MacMillan’s voice rises. “I remember how near the end of my time though, Sidney Smith had just opened and all the teachers absolutely hated it. It was never a good building. The professors had been used to their old, cozy location and suddenly they were in this very sterile building with long labyrinthine corridors. In fact, I remember being at one of my professor’s office hours and hearing firetrucks outside his window and having him remark that he hoped it was this building that was on fire!”

Returning to the topic of history, MacMillan continues. “After completing this degree in history at Trinity College, I went on to study politics at Oxford which quickly led me to learn that I didn’t really feel sympathetic to the theory of political science. I find that I care about the past and am intrigued by the passage of time, in ways that political scientists just aren’t. It seems to me that they mainly prefer to look at a slice of time through a particular lens and I just didn’t find political institutions or their models that interesting.”

“As a result, I went back to history and did a thesis on British India. From then onwards though, I kept changing my research focus. I was interested in the history of the British empire early on but then found myself increasingly more drawn to the history of International Relations

•••

As a result, the conversation quickly turns to her time as Provost. “I’d say that being Provost is challenging in that it is a difficult job to define. I often find that you do a little of this, a little of that and everything else in between.

Obviously, you are running quite a big organization, but it isn’t as if you don’t have help.

The bursar at the time – Geoff Seaborn – was terrific, and very easy to work with. We had a very good Dean of Arts as well, so with all the support in place, I didn’t need to run things too directly.”

“In the end, your responsibilities became about dealing with crises and continuity. You need to deal with those awkward issues and deal with alumni and deal with fundraising. That’s it.”

When asked to elaborate more about the crises she faced as Provost, MacMillan is quick to cite the “nightly fire alarms that would go off ” as well as “the time the sprinkler system malfunctioned and the college banded together to fight the flood with buckets.”

As her voice trails off, she continues, “well there would also always be some silly thing with that secret society – you know the one – the Episkopon.”

“The Episkopon had actually been banned from Trinity grounds at the time, but was still an attraction for certain kinds of students.”

MacMillan is referencing the controversial 1992 decision by the Trinity College Board of Trustees to dissociate the College from the society.

“So they’d do something stupid or outrageous and we’d then have to deal with it. And you know, it would be damaging to Trinity’s reputation and I’d have to talk to the university about it. Occasionally there’d be some ridiculous thing

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and I’d have to say ‘well look it’s not part of us, we don’t approve of it, some of our students join it but we can’t stop that.’ People have the freedom to join silly organizations if they want,” she insists.

When asked whether or not she thinks dissociation was the correct decision to make, MacMillan is adamant. “Yes, it was very damaging to the college. Probably at some point it wasn’t, maybe when the college was smaller and more homogenous and people would just get together and make fun of each other. But while lots of people have told me it was all good clean fun, I never saw it that way.”

•••

“It wasn’t always a constant state of crisis.”

MacMillan had previously mentioned that the role of Provost often included alumni relations and fundraising. “A huge part of the job was fundraising – and I enjoyed that. The alumni are very interesting, devoted to the college and absolutely charming. And even though people see ‘fundraising’ as being a dirty word, I never found fundraising to be that difficult.”

“You needed a good sense of what you wanted and why, but we were very lucky with generous people who wanted to support us and liked the idea that they were helping students. It was not a terrible thing to do and you met lots of interesting people as a result.”

When asked more about alumni relations, MacMillan continues, “Well, when I was Provost I spoke to a lot of older alumni and they said what they loved about Trinity was that it was very tolerant of differences.”

“I feel that Trinity was always very eccentric and people who were considered different anywhere else could fit in at Trinity. You were free to pursue your own interests and no one thought you were weird. Tradition was a big part of this college too and really added to its cultural and strength.”

One of those significant college traditions is the Conversat – the annual black-tie college dance where, customarily, the men ask the women. “I always loved the Conversat,” MacMillan confirms.

In follow-up, the issue of the rush format – a perennial point of contention amongst the Trinity community – is brought up. The issues of

Salterrae • March 2014 heteronormativity and inclusiveness with regards to the dance are often framed as being in conflict with college history and it begs the question whether it had been a prominent issue throughout her tenure as Provost.

In response to the barrage of information, MacMillan is quite brief.

“What is the rush?”

Incredulity and explanation follow. MacMillan remains firm. “We didn’t have anything like [the rush]. Back in those days, you went if someone asked you. Line up men and women? Really?

Good heavens. I can’t imagine how ostracizing this could be for the gay community; I can see how those couples would feel marginalized.”

Quite pointedly, she concludes, “knowing Trinity though, there will be a great deal of discussion about it won’t there?”

•••

“On balance, I had a very happy time at Trinity.”

The discussion surrounding Conversat returns the interview to MacMillan’s time as an undergraduate.

“While I didn’t live on residence, I spent an awful lot of time at Trinity and joined a lot of things.

I played hockey for Trinity (both ice and field), debated, and even made costumes for a TCDS (Trinity College Dramatic Society) production.

That one made everyone who knew me laugh because I had never been able to sew anything in my life!”

“There’s a funny coincidence with regards to debating as well,” she continues. “Now I used to debate for St. Hilda’s and then I tried out for the UofT debating team and got onto that. There, I would come to be close friends with another Trinity graduate who served as my partner – his name was John Godfrey.”

Godfrey, a former Liberal Cabinet Minister in the Paul Martin administration also attended Oxford after Trinity. He currently serves as Headmaster of the prestigious Toronto French School.

“We had lots of fun debating. We went down to the United States where they had huge debating tournaments like the one at Columbia.

Now John always insisted on wearing his gown for some reason and always gave the Americans pause. You know, they had a very organized system of debating that was very policy-oriented – so much so that they would have this process of filing where they had hundreds of statistics and facts with them when they debated.

“A lot of it was accident and a lot of it was luck. I was very lucky to stumble into teaching and discover that I loved it.”

“I remember this vividly. John decided one day to do a deep bow to his opponents and when he did, knocked over their whole box of file cards.

It was a riot.”

With that, MacMillan grows more serious. “I’ll tell you what has changed dramatically since when I was at UofT. Even though I was on the UofT Debating team, I couldn’t debate at Hart House because it was men-only. The central space for debate at UofT was reserved for the men on campus.”

“And then one year, I was finally allowed in.

And to this day John swears that he heard the visitors at Massey say that if they had know this would happen, they never would have given [UofT] the damn place.”

•••

“Things have changed a lot. Things were different for women in those days.”

With that, the interview had come full circle to MacMillan’s views on the challenges faced by women in the workforce.

“There are always hurdles. No one is successful right from the beginning. You have to learn to face setbacks. People your age look at people my age and think well they must have always had a game plan, and I didn’t. A lot of it was accident and a lot of it was luck. I was very

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lucky to stumble into teaching and discover that I loved it.”

She continues, “but it’s worth saying that careers are now open to young women which wouldn’t have been in my time. Women have a lot of choice. Sure it is very difficult to make those choices and they still have to weigh the desire to have a family with the desire to have a career but at least they have the freedom to do so.”

With that, the interview – featuring one of the most successful academics (full stop; no female caveat) in the field of history and international relations – comes to a close.

“So who are you interviewing next?” MacMillan adds, “you know [noted filmmaker] Atom Egoyan is one of ours – you could try him. He really got started as a filmmaker back when he was at Trinity.”

Upon learning that Mr. Egoyan was a member of the dissociated, male-dominated secret society which MacMillan disapproves of, she is quick to reply.

“Was he? Well shame on him. Well so was [previous Salterrae interviewee and former Minister of Foreign Affairs] Bill Graham I guess.”

“I mean they all were, weren’t they?”

Meghan Peterson • No Campaigning!

NO CAMPAIGNING! Is the current heads’ system exclusionary?

By: Meghan Peterson Photography: Donald Belfon With the spring comes a new election season.

Once more, a flurry of nomination forms and spicy campaign gossip permeate the hallowed halls of our beloved Trinity College, threatening the sanity of both the politically apathetic and the politically anxious (no campaigning!).

In particular, Trinity must again select Heads of College, Arts, and Non-Resident Affairs. Under the harsh glare of the JCR’s lighting and against the thunderous roar of onlookers’ live-tweeting, candidates must provide forum answers that demonstrate impeccable wit, tact, and understanding of the incredibly exciting nuances of TCM constitutional policy. Unfortunately, year after year, Trinity College has ignored a more sinister question that lurks beneath the electoral process: how does socioeconomic status play a role in Heads elections?

Some also argue that compensating Heads with free residence or higher honorariums will subvert the unique role that a head plays at Trinity College Trinity College maintains a unique opportunity for students to directly involve themselves in their communities. Constitutionally, Heads have the ability to directly influence college governance.

They interact with important decision-making on both the Senate and the Board of Trustees, they sit on numerous governmental committees, and in some cases have powers of appointment and delegation. Furthermore, their obligations extend beyond constitutional roles based on shared community expectations.

We expect our heads to act as role models, as party planners, as reliable confidants for the student body. In short, headship is both an extremely important and an extremely demanding role. It is also a largely uncompensated one.

are constitutionally required to live in residence – a choice that for the 2013-2014 year costs at least $12,000 (or about $1500 a month with the smallest meal plan available). This makes running for a heads position unfeasible for the many students who are forced by financial necessity to move off campus in pursuit of more affordable housing. Heads are also expected to begin incurring costs as early as the summer, when they prepare their common rooms for incoming students. Reimbursement in the past has taken months—this year, according to Head of Arts Kate Motluk, the Heads did not receive their levies until November.

She explained that heads adopt a great deal of personal debt by the beginning of the year, starting with common room preparations that are paid for out of pocket. They are also unable to be reimbursed for at least three weeks into the school year – once a full TCM cycle has passed. “Let’s just say there are a lot of Heads who have a ruined credit rating,” she explained. Motluk proposes that residence Heads should have residence fees waived and non-residence Heads should have at least free parking and a full meal plan. She additionally proposes increasing the honorarium to help cover costs.

However, not all Heads agree that the position should be compensated. Head of Non-Resident Affairs Pujan Modi explained, “I believe that Trinity College provides enough support to those who are in financial need, through bursaries and scholarships. Heads with financial need can always apply for any of these scholarships, and I am sure that one’s being elected as a Head significantly influences the Student Awards Committee’s decision to select them as a recipient.”

Some also argue that compensating Heads with free residence or higher honorariums will subvert

Heads currently receive an honorarium that covers roughly the cost of one full summer course. However, they inevitably incur a series of other costs over their terms. Heads of College and Heads of Arts, for example,

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the unique role that a head plays at Trinity College. For instance, providing financial assistance would compel students to run solely out of desire for financial incentive and not out of a willingness to give back to the community or would otherwise undermine Heads’ autonomy from the dean’s office, turning them into glorified residence dons like at other universities. However, various mechanisms exist within the governmental structure of Trinity College to ensure that Heads adequately perform in their roles. First, the Constitution of the TCM gives students the power to impeach a head at any point in time. Secondly, Heads’ performance is assessed annually by a survey that will force a head to adequately serve in their roles.

Finally, if we have faith in our communities, preelection forums allow the community to fully examine the best interests of potential Heads and weed out students who might run solely for financial incentives.

The argument that Heads should continue to serve entirely uncompensated stems from a fundamentally privileged worldview The argument that Heads should serve entirely uncompensated stems from a fundamentally privileged worldview. It is easy to tout rhetoricallyloaded opinions on the meaning of service and giving back to the community regardless of compensation. It is much more difficult as a financially disadvantaged student to afford costly residence fees, spend without definite reimbursement in sight, and often prolong graduation in favour of fulfilling heads duties. Trinity College should raise the honorarium for heads, waive residence fees for resident heads, and reform reimbursement methods to ensure that no student must go into debt to assume a leadership position. To exclude students from running for positions because they cannot afford to do so creates a vicious cycle of privilege and social stratification. Allowing all students to run – regardless of socioeconomic status – ensures that we elect the best student leaders possible.

Salterrae • March 2014

Trinology

The Symbols and Artifacts

of Trinity College By: Kate Motluck Photographs: Donald Belfon The sights are familiar. Anyone who has spent time in Trinity’s buildings has noticed an abundance of familial crests, carvings in stone, and many other symbols – all of which tell us a little more about our illustrious history. Despite this, often their meaning is unknown. Too often academic concerns, TCM attendance, or impromptu boat races prevent one from understanding these cryptic emblems. Let this article then provide a list of some of the more compelling symbols, so that you may correctly identify them on your next frolic through the college.

THE QUAD The quadrangle of Trinity proper is home to a large collection of painted crests. The vast majority correspond to the house where they are placed. The crest above the Welch door, for example, is the familial crest of Provost Welch.

The same goes for the Henderson family crest located on the quad-facing wall of the tower, the Whitaker crest on the south door, and finally Strachan’s own crest on the door leading into the dining hall. There

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Kate Motluck • Trinology

are, however, a few oddly placed crests, such as that of Provost Body, found above the north door of Whitaker House. The crest on the Philosopher’s Walk side of Henderson is actually a proposed Trinity crest. There were many competing designs, and while this one was not chosen it was a popular contender. So while it was brutally voted down by the powers-that-be, it did get the consolation prize of being immortalized on the wall.

The wrought-iron figurines above the Cosgrave-Body wall of the quad are also related to familial heraldry The wrought-iron figurines above the CosgraveBody wall of the quad are actually also related to familial heraldry. Designed by Harold Stacey they represent the major animal featured in these crests. The rooster relates to Provost Owen, the lion to Provost Cosgrave, and the talbot to Gerald Larkin. The final symbol – a mitre, relates to Bishop Strachan himself, and the College’s affiliation with the Anglican church.

There is, however, an empty space (insert X-Files music). While no longer present, it is well known around college that this was once the home to a skull. Stolen or removed, the whereabouts of the skull today remains a mystery.

THE ASHLEY GATE Usually referred to as the Ashley Gate, the area is formally known as the Ashley’s alley. Known for the charming clanging gate, there are also the words carved in Greek, that translate to: “After the conquest, the crown. The song and the symbol. Let us win glorious honour. For ourselves at the end.” So the next time you want to prove your Trin salt, translate this on a tour to your adoring fans.

STRACHAN HALL Strachan Hall is filled with portraits. Although none of them talk like Harry-Potter, they all have their own known quirks. Be it MacMillan’s exit sign, or Macklem’s suspiciously placed hand, these portraits are revealing of the characters of former Provosts. The largest of the portraits, which hangs above the fireplace, was actually not a Provost but Chancellor Robinson. A smaller version of this portrait, along with the door is on display at the Royal Ontario Museum in the Canadian History department.

You are likely also familiar with the large clock that one attempts to ignore while shamefully Strachan sitting during midterms. Above the clock face is the crest of the University of Toronto. The two smaller crests are the St. Hilda’s crest, on the left, and the crest of the Trinity College Faculty of Medicine, on the right. Splashed obviously on the wall behind is a big ol’ representation of the Trinity crest again.

THE JUNIOR COMMON ROOM Ah, the JCR, home to some intriguing Trinity artifacts and James Ready soaked carpets. Hanging above the fireplace is the certification of the TCLI’s arms. This comes straight from the

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Canadian Heraldic authority and shows that the Lit officiated their arms on May 15th, 2007.

The Junior Common Room is adorned with posters of plays put on by the Trinity College Dramatic Society in years past. Famed Canadian director Atom Egoyan is credited on some of these posters.

Next time you want to prove your Trin salt, translate this on a tour to your adoring fans The wooden chair with a prominent nose, designated seat for the Speaker of the Lit is actually a replica. This was crafted last year, so as to protect the original chair, which had gone through one too many a subway debate. Strachan’s nose was long gone, stress evident at the joints, and several instances of carved initials were clear. The original was crafted from a tree outside of Strachan’s home. It will be on display once the new archives are completed – nose-less and all.

So there you have it folks! Next time you pass through, feel free to spew this knowledge, and consider yourself a mid-level expert on Trinity symbology.

Salterrae • March 2014

Towards a Positive Satirical Intellect An Op-Ed on Humour at the Lit tered to suit the sensibilities of the audience. However, some debaters choose not to take the advice of the House Leaders, and in the spontaneity of the debate, will say what they like.

By: Iris Robin Illustration: Alyssa Stokvis-Hauer Comments on the Holocaust, rape, and racial differences are just a few of the things causing some attendees of the Trinity College Literary Institute (the TCLI, or the Lit) debates to feel uncomfortable or offended. The Lit is, at its core, a satirical debating society where even sensitive subject matter has the potential to be funny. Within this context, the principle of liberal discourse can be exercised to its full potential. There is, however, a fine line between that which can be considered satire, and humour derived purely from shock value.

Some would like to see a Lit where speeches do not rely on sensitive material for comedy; others view any attempt to remove such material as censorship. Attempts to regulate speeches have largely failed thus far. Under the current structure, TCLI House Leaders review the speeches prior to each debate and give suggestions for improvement.

These suggestions can pertain to style, form, or content. Many a problematic speech has been al-

To blame the Lit itself for any offense caused at a given debate is both illogical and unfair. The House Leaders can only recommend changes; they cannot force a debater to alter their speech.

Ultimately, the debaters control the content of their speeches. Admittedly, the best received jokes at the Lit play on stereotypes or make reference to notable events, both historical and current.

It is clear that controversial humour has a certain appeal.

Arguably, this is a manifestation of the feeling that these controversies should be discussed in some measure. The issue is not the definition of censorship, but the definition of satire.

Humour does not necessarily have to be didactic, but satire is always critical There is a line between satire and unacceptable offense. If we name the business that goes on each week at the Lit as ‘satire,’ then we assume that everyone is receiving the joke from the same standpoint, and that there is a degree of mutual understanding between everyone present in the room. This is simply not true. For example, I do not understand slavery as well as someone who has a personal connection to it, and I will never be able to do so. Therefore, I should not make a joke about slavery in the name of satire, unless it is a joke about how the oppressive British Empire was run by a bunch of old, wig-wearing white guys.

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The satirist holds a funhouse mirror up to the world and mocks the image reflected in it, knowing full well that although the image is distorted and its imperfections are exaggerated, its grotesque foolishness retains the reflection of something real. Extended metaphors aside, the true satirist is a critic, with a sound understanding of the world’s many flaws. I refer here to issues of inequality, prejudice, political accountability, and oppressive structures. True satire is about laughing at the absurdity of these structures, rather than perpetuating them - wittingly or unwittingly.

Humour does not necessarily have to be didactic, but satire is always critical.

There is a line between satire and unacceptable offense In other words, the decision to make a joke relying on sensitive material must come from an awareness of the history of the material. Satire is grounded in an understanding of the world, and humour is a powerful tool that can help or hinder marginalized groups. It can draw attention to such issues, or it can be corrupted to normalize and minimize them.

To me, the Lit provides entertainment for Trinity students, by Trinity students. A body so prominent in the social life of this college should promote humour without alienation. The responsibility for this falls not only upon next year’s TCLI executive, but on the audience and the debaters.

We are the next generation of policy analysts, critical thinkers, and social commentators, attending a proudly progressive college. We are more than capable of crafting humour that does not perpetuate harmful ideas. It is time for the return of true satire to the Lit. Iris Robin was a First Year Councillor on the Lit and is the current Clerk of the House. The views expressed here are her own, and do not necessarily represent the views of the TCLI.

Michael Luoma • Community, Life, and Nihilism

Community, Life, and Nihilism A Preliminary Examination of Trinity’s Institutions By: Michael Luoma This will not just be about politics, but about politics as culture; and not just about culture in a limited sense, but culture as response to our most fundamental condition.

“To those disilussioned with philosophy. - Even if you previously believed that life had the highest value and now see yourselves disillusioned, do you really have to sell it off right away at the lowest price?”

Thus Friedrich Nietzsche begins Part II of his 1879 work Human, All Too Human. Can we not say however that for Nietzsche, the thinker for whom philosophy, poetry, and will are often interchangeable in his invocations towards life, that he might have intended philosophy here to most broadly to mean culture? Can we not then recognize in his statement, if we are not to dismiss democratic culture, Nietzsche’s fear of this culture’s destruction at the hands of scepticism, nihilism, relativism? Should we not take ownership of our own culture and its possibilities, resist the insidious temptation of nihilism, and create where we can? Preserve life where we might, rather than dismantle and languish?

like all communities, [Trinity] is a community defined by its institutions.

For most of us, Trinity defines the boundaries of our own lifeworld. Outside of the external structures which enable me to attend lectures, participate in some of Toronto’s cultural events, and feed myself, I do not live in any other community. And like all communities, it is a community defined by its institutions. As my dominant culture it defines my possibilities for action, resistance, and life. It is these institutions which will either encourage life, or suppress it. Much of my action must be imagined as in response to, or as meaningful only insofar as it refers to and develops from, this community - its norms, discourses, meanings. Axel Honneth, in The Critique of Power, suggests just this in his criticism– of the autonomous Enlight-

enment subject and the turn to Hegel’s social being. Robert Pippin, in his commentary of Hegel’s Jena Phenomenology, goes so far as to indicate that the subject’s actions are even meaningless without a definite reference to the social.

As trite as this oft-repeated truism sounds: Trinity is not a terrible place to be. By comparison to other places, the opportunities for activity abound at Trinity. This is because of our people and our institutions, some of them formal, some informal.

“The tremendous historical need of our unsatisfied modern culture, the assembling around one of countless other cultures, the consuming desire for knowledge- what does all this point to, if not the loss of myth, the loss of the mythical home, the mythical maternal womb?”

In the last issue of this periodical, an op-ed by Mr. Aditya Rau suggested that we might learn something from the concept of Ubuntu. He also wanted to remind us of the importance of community and concomitantly the institutions that define it.

Paradoxically, the institutions which Mr. Rau sees as fundamental to college life do not rely on such ideas as Ubuntu, but presumably have their own historical narratives and terms through which they articulate their existence and importance. It seems that Mr. Rau is proposing an entirely different political self-articulation than those used by his own institutions. I will pose a risky critical question and ask: is not the proposal for us to conceive of ourselves through Ubuntu the proposal to adopt a new political mythology? And does it not align precisely with Nietzsche’s criticism found in The Birth of Tragedy, that the deteriorating culture is that which loses touch with its own roots, histories, myths, its own preconditions for meaningful life?

•••

The op-ed also suggested that the TCM, TCBS, and TCFS, must be embraced and supported by the community members for which they exist. This is surely correct. But just what is an institution? Surely it is not just these periodical assemblies of people for the passing of motions relating to particular events, the dispensing of money for infrastructure projects, and so forth. And what constitutes discourse? Surely it is not just participation at these assemblies.

When Mr. Rau referred to the discussions on Facebook concerning the rush format for Saint’s,

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and said that “hurling personal accusations from behind a keyboard does not serve the interests of students,” he was no doubt referring to my conduct. I did indeed cause a controversy on Facebook over the Saint’s Rush. I posted a question on the Rush’s event page, asking whether the rush format would be a traditional rush, or a spontaneous rush, the latter a form which I suggested would not alienate Trinity’s LGBTQ members.

The post was commented on by other college members before it disappeared. I posted it again, and again it disappeared. Then I posted a letter in the Trinity College Facebook group asking the Saint’s Executive to address the legitimate concerns of the community.

Wherever members of society are, there they participate in community life.

Was Facebook the improper medium for discussing community concerns? Why should it be?

Wherever members of society are, there they participate in community life. Civil society must participate in debates concerning our collective existence apart from official institutions. Freedom of speech and of assembly exist in part to enable political discourse outside of official political institutions. And why should this discourse not from time to time be on Facebook where discourse can be maximized? Judging by the response of the Saint’s Executive, which adjusted the Rush format on the occasion of my concerns, it was a productive discussion that could not have happened at an official institution before the event. Insofar as administrators have leeway within their mandates by legislative bodies, they should be attentive to community concerns.

Salterrae • March 2014

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Emma Smith • The Architecture of Trinity College

From Old to New The Architecture of Trinity College By: Emma Smith

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Salterrae • March 2014

When Bishop John Strachan founded Trinity College, he hoped that it would follow in the celebrated academic tradition of Europe’s most prestigious universities. Academic gowns, High Table dinners, and the observance of other British university customs represent a handful of ways in which Strachan’s vision endures today. His inspiration also appears in Trinity’s architecture, both Old and New.

The original Trinity College building was completed in 1852 on Queen Street West. The site, now called Trinity Bellwoods Park, was located outside of Toronto’s busy downtown core at the time. Bishop Strachan was impressed by St. Aidan’s Theological College in Birkenhead, so he commissioned that building’s architect, Kivas Tully, to incorporate its style into his plans for Trinity College. St. Aidan’s exemplifies the Gothic Revival style. Original Gothic architecture emerged in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and incorporated both Tudor and Elizabethan elements.

This style regained widespread popularity in the late 19th century, especially for collegiate buildings.

In the case of Trinity College, the Gothic style manifested in a long, symmetrical façade and Tudor details. Old Trinity’s most notable feature was a huge tower in the center of its front façade with three turrets creating a distinctive skyline. The bay windows and lanterns accentuated its symmetry, and the front entrance of the building was raised, overlooking a lawn covered in trees. The building was finished in white brick and trimmed with stone.

Twenty years later, a Convocation Hall and Chapel were added to the original Trinity building. Later still, an East and West wing were added to the building to created a three-sided enclosure.

These extensions were the work of Trinity graduate Frank Darling. Plans were drafted to add a North wing to create a quadrangle. These plans, however, were never realized because Trinity College decided to federate with the University of Toronto in 1911.

This decision necessitated the relocation of Trinity College to its current location near Queen’s Park, a spot far more urban than its previous site. This sparked concern over whether Trinity could maintain its individuality amidst ‘the masses’ of the University of Toronto. The new building’s planners sought to remain true to Old Trinity’s architectual spirit by emphasizing the college’s distinct identity and enduring connection to the European collegiate tradition.

Initially, the stonework from Old Trinity was to be reused in the new building. When this was deemed impractical, Trinity College sought out an architect who would remain faithful to the Gothic style of the original building. Instead of holding a competition for the commission, as was common practice, Trinity took an insider’s path. The college chose architects Frank Darling and his partner John Pearson due to Darling’s prior experience with Old Trinity.

Darling and Pearson presented their first proposal in 1913. It included both an administrative quadrangle and a quadrangle enclosed within the student residences. The raised and recessed entrance, flanked with trees, was intended to bring to invoke the front entrance of Old Trinity on a smaller scale. In Darling’s plan, the chapel was given a prominent place, looming over Hoskin Avenue on the west side of the building. This was no doubt intended to assert Trinity’s continuing association with the Anglican Church – one of the college’s defining features. The decision to have two enclosed courtyards was an attempt to shelter occupants of Trinity College from the outside world, as well as create a striking public image.

Due to budget restrictions, the plans for New Trinity College were revised several times. Amidst these changes, the importance of maintaining architectural continuity with Old Trinity was consistently kept in mind.

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In 1915, the final plan by Darling and Pearson was accepted, featuring two quadrangles and a front wing similar to that of Old Trinity. The design included lanterns from Old Trinity and a large tower with three turrets at the centre of the front façade. The building was to be finished in stone, rather than brick with stone trim like Old Trinity.

At the onset of the First World War, Trinity’s financial circumstances changed drastically. In 1915, the projected cost of the new building doubled from estimates made in 1914. When the building was finally completed in 1925, it was only a fraction as grandiose as its 1915 plans. The new façade bore a strong resemblance to its 1852 counterpart on Queen Street, but included fewer cut stone details, due to budgetary constraints.

New Trinity’s architecture recalled the same Gothic elements that inspired its 1852 predecessor. For example, corbel grotesques in the medieval collegiate style were included in the stonework, depicting animals and scenes of student life.

Additionally, the central heating of New Trinity enabled the architects to include more glass, in keeping with Gothic style. The extensions which are now Welch, Whitaker, Body, and Cosgrave were added to Trinity College in the 1940’s and 1950’s.They were designed to conform to the style of the main building, reinforcing Trinity’s ambition to modernize facilities while remaining true to the European style on which the original building was modelled.

Walking through the front entrance of New Trinity, look to your right; you will see the cornerstone from Old Trinity. The cornerstone commemorates the college’s founding, as well as Old Trinity’s architect, Kivas Tully, in Latin text. This juxtaposition of old and new serves as a reminder: although Trinity College must sometimes adapt to changing times, it will always maintain elements of its rich tradition. This is the enduring identity of Trinity College.

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Veronica Stewart • Grim Grinning Ghosts

rim rinning hosts

The Haunted History of Trinity College By: Veronica Stewart Illustration: Alyssa Stokvis-Hauer There are no such things as ghosts. Spooky specters and pesky poltergeists are figments of an overactive, mildly paranoid imagination. Souls do not get trapped between worlds, and the only demons we should be afraid of are those of our own creation.

That is what we tell ourselves in order to sleep at night. If there are no monsters lurking under the bed, can we be sure that there are no phantoms wandering the halls? Are the corridors of 6 Hoskin Avenue really deserted when you return alone after your evening classes, or do the shadows of Trinity have secrets of their own? Stay with me skeptics. It is time to start believing in ghost stories.

The Founder Returns It may come as no surprise that Trinity College has been the setting of various accounts of paranormal activity. When Gothic revival architecture meets haunting organ music, black gowns and watchful portraits, what’s surprising is that there are not more stories of the kind. Amid the tales and urban legends, John Strachan stands out as a central figure. The college’s founding father, he was once an Anglican Bishop and prominent figure in Toronto’s past. His bust remains proudly displayed in the south-western corner of the quad. This artistic rendering is, however, dwarfed by its two-dimensional counterpart, currently residing in the Provost’s lodge. Painted by George Theodore Berthron only two years before the subject’s death, you can be sure that Strachan is watching you. In fact, there have been numerous reports of Strachan’s gaze following visitors around the room. Only one mystery remains: is this unnerving sensation simply the result of artistic technique, or is Bishop Strachan still keeping an eye on his life’s work from beyond the grave?

The “universal eye” effect has been documented in other portraits – even the Mona Lisa. This phenomenon has been the focus of many a psychological and supernatural investigation.

Possessed paintings aside, it is decidedly more difficult to disprove eye-witness evidence of ghostly apparitions, especially those that closely coincide with the date of Strachan’s own death. Trinity is no stranger to these sightings. Each recollection is strikingly similar; individuals have seen John Strachan dressed in Bishop’s robes wandering the grounds of Trinity after dusk. These encounters assume an added significance when you take into account that he passed away on November 1st, 1867. This solemn anniversary is preceded by none other than Halloween.

If there are no monsters lurking under the bed, can we be sure that there are no phantoms wandering the halls?

Tunnel Vision I might have you worried about the ghosts at ground level, but it is time to remind you of the phantoms beneath your feet. The steam tunnels beg to be haunted. Low ceilings, exposed pipes, and untrustworthy lighting, these tunnels are horror film material. I will never forget my first descent as a Froshling into the subterranean network. However, upon hearing some of the associated legends, the sub-zero temperatures above ground no longer seemed so bad.

There are several spirits rumoured to wander these passages. The most disturbing tale has its origin in a distinct difference in the bricks found on one of the tunnel walls. This area, no more than five by five feet, stands out drastically from its

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surroundings. The story asserts that, behind the poor patchwork lies the remains of a corpse. The identity of this decomposed man is unknown.

One thing is for certain, however: he is not getting much rest. Wanting of a proper burial, his spirit was left to endlessly wander the tunnels, trapped in the underground labyrinth until he can remove the bricks holding his body captive. According to legend, the only force strong enough to set him free is the energy of a living soul. It is said that for each life he takes, one brick of his prison is loosened. He will keep haunting until the last brick falls.

The steam tunnels beg to be haunted The preceding phantoms may be the college’s most established paranormal residents, but that does not mean that they are the only school spirits.

If you are looking to experience the unexplainable, a visit to the chapel is in order. You may be (un)lucky enough to meet the Lady in Grey. A devote parishioner, she continues to worship in the afterlife. If that isn’t enough, the rest of the university is also home to its share of the bizarre.

From jilted stone-masons-turned axe-murders to the torture chamber of the former Christie mansion, you may have more to fear than your upcoming midterms at this University.

Salterrae • March 2014

Date Night By: Amanda Greer Photography: Donald Belfon Romeo and Juliet. Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Michael Cera and Jonah Hill.

What do these couples have in common? Nothing. However, if your OkCupid profile says that you enjoy cuddling and long-term relationships, the odds are that you will have at least a few dates lined up this Spring are high. Take a moment to put down that heart-shaped box of chocolates you got at Shopper’s Drugmart and think about it for a second.

The most common dating activity, perpetuated by centuries of hetero-normative, socially-sanctioned mating rituals, is going out to eat. Food. That’s what the chicas want. You can be as charming as you want, you can take off your jacket and put it over a puddle so your date won’t get his/her shoes wet, but what will really get you a date under the covers is good food for free. If there is one thing I know about single people, it is that they are both cheap and in an intimate relationship with fine cuisine. All that being said, here are four dating restaurants that will be sure to whet your soulmate’s appetite: MoRoCo Chocolat Address: 99 Yorkville Avenue

Before you accuse me of misspelling both “Morocco” and “chocolate,” I will point out that this place is as pretentious as Gwyneth Paltrow dancing to a John Mayer song. Regardless, everything about this restaurant is delicious, from the richly coloured décor and cozy seating to the sumptuous selection of chocolate desserts and other confections. MoRoCo also serves high tea– if you pre-

Where Soulmates Ought to Snack

fer an afternoon rendezvous. This gives you the perfect opportunity to drape a gorgeous diamond pendant around your date’s neck (male or female) while sensuously whispering “And we’ll never be royals” in their unsuspecting ear.

Try: The “Sipping Chocolate.” It’s pretty much just liquid chocolate, but tastes like how Taye Diggs’s voice sounds, and makes you feel like you’re in a Lindor commercial.

one of the most fun and original dining experiences in Toronto. Located in an old manor house, this restaurant serves only the best Cajun and Creole dishes, from spicy jambalaya to blackened chicken to soft, melt-in-your-mouth cornbread.

Like O. Noir, the restaurant features a reasonable prix fixe menu, and has a pleasantly cozy atmosphere. Decked out in hilariously uncomfortable paintings and twinkling fairy lights, The Southern Accent makes for an offbeat restaurant that complements its great service. The restaurant also has a staff of psychics who will read your fortune, but be careful—that is some voodoo s*** right there.

Try: The Cornbread. It’s like inhaling clouds.

If there is one thing I know about single people, it is that they are both cheap and in an intimate relationship with fine cuisine.

Rodney’s Oyster House Address: 469 King Street W. O. Noir Address: 620 Church Street

If you and your date are into super quirky and hyped- up dating experiences, then O. Noir should be on your hit list. The entire restaurant is held in nightmarish darkness with the idea that patrons will concentrate more on the taste of their food, rather than the dishes’ aesthetic appeal. Additionally, your date will not notice when you miss your mouth and stab your face with your fork, or when you spill marinara sauce down your shirt.

A three-course prix fixe is only $40, making this a reasonable but eccentric date. Plus, if your date is a little less than desirable in the looks department…then shame on you for noticing! (Witty before pretty, Tinder users!)

We all know what people say about oysters—that they’re delicious! (And they’re apparently aphrodisiacs, or “bone-makers”). Rodney’s Oyster House is one of the best oyster houses in the city.

Located in the middle of the fashion district, this restaurant will show your date that you are hip, cool, and probably the owner of a 3X8 ft. “loft” in Liberty Village, where the appliances come out of the walls to conserve space. That is okay, though, because you are a creative type who needs to be surrounded by your fellow neo-bohemians. The menu is full of delicious and fresh seafood, flown in daily from the restaurant’s own supplier in P.E.I. Also, it features an extensive wine and beer list. This unique restaurant promises to match your meal with the perfect drink.

Try: The “Surprise Desserts,” because FUN.

Try: Oysters (duh), and any of their smoked fish (rustic!).

The Southern Accent Address: 595 Markham Street I know that we do not live in the U.S. of A, and we do not have much of a Southern culture around these frozen parts, but The Southern Accent is–

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Good luck this month, and may your Trin-icy dry spell be wetted once more. If all hope is lost, there’s always the Brunny.

Sonia Liang • Seductive Software

“The blurred line between people and technology”

Seductive Software By: Sonia Liang Illustration: Alyssa Stokvis-Hauer If you haven’t seen Spike Jonze’s Her, yet, beware: spoilers ahead.

Theodore and Samantha hang out. They go to the beach. Occasionally, Samantha edits Theodore’s work and gives him sound, helpful advice.

A new relationship blossoms out of melancholic mid-life drudgery.

The catch? Samantha is an operating system.

Written, directed, and produced by Spike Jonze, Her leaves the viewer both awed and unsettled by the way that technology permeates all spheres of life. It tries to answer two questions, namely, “What happens when we develop technology so sophisticated that it starts to replace human relationships?” and “Can technology replace human relationships?”

Samantha, played by Scarlett Johansson, is one of the first artificial intelligences in the future in which Her takes place. Samantha is Siri on steroids. She is self aware, feels emotion, and is even programmed to have a sense of humour. Despite this, she is never seen onscreen, only heard. Samantha is a person in every meaningful sense but the physical. She is lovable software.

Samantha is also highly sexual. This makes the viewer ponder how big a glitch it would be if your lover lacked a body. For Theodore, played by Joaquin Phoenix, it was not a dealbreaker. Having spent many a night exploring the virtual world of phone sex before Samantha after separating from his wife, it actually proved refreshing.

Jonze makes it perfectly plausible that a person could fall in love with an operating system Theodore’s interactions with Samantha are more open and less stilted than with most humans. It is definitely an improvement from the hilarious “dead-cat sex scene” Theodore goes through on the aforementioned virtual sex service. As a side

note, the words dead, cat, and sex should never be put together in the same sentence, but Jonze somehow makes it work.

Once you get over the strangeness of Theodore dating his computer, Her sends a rather progressive message about love. Just as it is unacceptable to discriminate against someone based on ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender, Jonze makes it seem equally unfair to discriminate against Samantha for her lack of a physical appearance. Although Theodore’s ex-wife is unimpressed when she finds out he is dating his computer, many of his friends are open-minded and tolerant. He takes Samantha out on double dates, and she begins to hang out with his friend Amy, played by Amy Adams.

Just as it is unacceptable to discriminate against someone based on ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender, Jonze makes it seem equally unfair to discriminate against Samantha for her lack of a physical appearance Nevertheless, something deeply disconcerting underlies Theodore and Samantha’s interactions. Her responses are based on algorithms which become increasingly developed over time.

This means that at first, she develops into a more complete, multifaceted version of herself. She then rapidly moves beyond our limited human capacities, having thousands of simultaneous conversations with other operating systems that are not hampered by slow and inarticulate human language. At one point, the audience learns that she is not only having a relationship with Theodore, but with six hundred and forty-one other people too.

Jonze makes it perfectly plausible that a person could fall

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in love with an operating system. However, it remains deeply unsettling that Samantha, despite sounding, behaving, and thinking like a person, is in fact a hyper-sophisticated bundle of wires.

The film ultimately begs the question, what are the consequences for human relationships when so much is invested in electronic devices?

The smart operating systems in Her are not far removed from technologies like Facebook and Skype; all serve to accelerate human loneliness.

In the movie, there are numerous background scenes where person after person is seen walking alone, talking to a device in their ear but not to each other.

However, Samantha also helps draw Theodore out of his secluded, melancholy state. She is intensely curious about the world in a highly infectious way. Similarly, social media gives us unprecedented access to communication with people who we otherwise might never interact with.

This presents a dilemma: technology both facilitates and cripples our ability to interact, but remains firmly inextricable from our lives. There is a heart-wrenching scene in the film when Theodore’s device seems to malfunction. Would Samantha, without warning, simply cease to exist? Would dropping our phone in water become the equivalent of inadvertently ending the life of an intelligent being? Scenes like this reveal Theodore’s world to be profoundly lonely, where the most meaningful interactions are inherently fragile. It leaves the viewer intensely grateful to be surrounded by living, breathing, people.

Salterrae • March 2014

Hold the Grits Sitting down with Trinity’s most prominent Tory By: Maddy Torrie and Iris Robin Photography: Maddy Torrie

The people who have the most at stake are students, because they are going to be affected by decisions made today. There’s an opportunity and a need for students to get involved.

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Maddy Torrie and Iris Robin • Hold the Grits John Tory (‘75), Trinity alumnus, politician, CEO, journalist, and potential candidate for the next mayoral campaign, meets us in the lobby of St. Hilda’s.

When we greet him as “Mr. Tory,” he insists,”John, please.”

Sitting comfortably in the Rigby room, completely absent the air of pretension which follows many politicians, John Tory looks like he could be any student’s parent or grandparent. Admiring the space, he reminisces about his own experiences visiting the ladies at St. Hilda’s college almost forty years ago.

“We used to sign into this building and of course you were meant to sign out by 11 o’clock. They would actually come and knock on the door to see if anyone was still here. I can remember more than once hiding in the cupboard,” He laughs, and then reflects on the changes since those days.

“We were going through a transition in the early 70s where a lot of these rules were being recognized as out of date. We tried to be reasonably well-behaved, notwithstanding that we thought some of these rules were a bit anachronistic.”

Aside from a closet in St. Hilda’s, the young John Tory could be found in the Buttery. “Like most students at Trinity, I spent too much time there, as opposed to time I might have spent in the library,” he confesses. “We had a lot of fun there doing various things such as playing cards. That is the place where I watched the final game of the Canada-Soviet Hockey Series in 1972. You remember those things.”

Tory clasps his hands and describes his many other fond memories of Trinity and its traditions. “The social part of being at Trinity was terrific, with the fun times and parties. I remember the cake fight – I don’t know if you still do that – but it was a highlight in first year and subsequent years when you didn’t have to be on the receiving end,” he laughs.“I got the full flavour of life at Trinity just because I was here enough. I did my studying in the library, I spent my spare time in the Buttery, I had my meals here, I wore the gown as much as it made me an object of ridicule elsewhere. Do they still even do that here?”

We assured him that gowns and cake fights are still part of the Trinity experience. Pressed on the extent of his college involvement, Tory frowns: “In hindsight, I wish I had been more into college life, because I now realize from stories people tell me that there was more to it. That was regrettable, but you can’t do everything and that’s just the way it is.”

Tory didn’t have much time for Trinity clubs and societies because he had, at the time, already begun his career in politics and radio. He started volunteering for the Conservative Party at the age of fourteen. “It literally was somebody walking up to me and asking me, ‘Would you like to join the Young Conservatives? We’re having a party Friday night!’ I could join for $1, so it seemed like a reasonable deal. Five years later, I was president of the Young Conservatives of

Ontario. I was involved in every election campaign, and it has been a big part of my life.”

Tory, however, seems genuinely concerned as he describes the role young adults play in politics today. “The voting turnout among students is 20-25 percent, which to me is fundamentally backwards,” he says. “The people who have the most at stake are students, because they are going to be affected by decisions made today. There’s an opportunity and a need for students to get involved.”

He pauses before reflecting about youth involvement in the Conservative Party. “There is a general predisposition to believe that if you are a Conservative when you are young, you are out of touch. I’ll admit that it seems more fashionable to be a Liberal or a New Democrat when you’re in college, but there’s no reason why that should be true. We had a lot of fun. People said the best parties were among the Conservatives,” he grins briefly before returning to a more serious tone. “If you can be self-sufficient, and if you have created jobs and a business for yourself, these are Conservative values in action: entrepreneurship, risk-taking, having to survive on your own when you run a business.”

People said the best parties were among the Conservatives John Tory is perhaps best known for his role as leader of the opposition in Ontario, from 2005 to 2007. Unabashed, he elaborates on his time in Queen’s Park: “I learned that, unfortunately, politics had become polarized. It sells the public short.

Smart people from the other parties aren’t involved in achieving agreed upon public goals to make the school system better, or to deliver better healthcare.

The Opposition parties are largely ignored. If you’re not in the Government, you don’t count.”

He details the one factor which many consider responsible for his defeat. “I learned in a very practical way not to allow the election to be about you and your issue. I put something on the table in good faith. As a matter of fact, it was to do with the funding of religious schools. The Liberals successfully made that the issue in the election, which wasn’t my intention. I described it in two paragraphs within a 50-page platform, and I lost.”

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Despite this, he spins his defeat in a positive light. “I learned thousands of things [during the campaign] from just being out and about traveling. It is a wonderful experience. I think there is nothing more interesting than learning about how other people live, and what their stories are.”

He concludes, “In your life, it’s very important to learn about losing, and winning; about things that are good, and bad.”

John Tory takes the commitment of leadership seriously. “When you run for political office, you are committing yourself for at least four years. It is a bigger commitment to be making at the age of sixty than at forty-five: it is a larger percentage of the time you have left. That is why I’m taking some time to decide.”

If he were to run for mayor, Tory’s greatest priority would be to “just get things done” and deliver what the people of Toronto want. “Looking at the last four years, the highlights have been more to do with sideshows and distractions than basic core obligations,” Tory asserts.

On the subject of our current mayor, Rob Ford, Tory highlights the qualities which may have led to his success in retaining popular support. “I think he struck a nerve when he talked about the ‘gravy train’ last time. I think people were of the view that all governments were taking their money and wasting it.” Tory also believes that Ford’s misdemeanors have lent him some popular support. “A lot of people can identify with his roughhouse way of living.”

Despite Mayor Ford’s sometimes popularity, Tory believes his political days are numbered. “I think [Mayor Ford] has significantly disrespected the office he holds through his conduct, and I think that’s going to hurt him in the end.”

John Tory leaves the Trinity community with two pieces of advice. First, he urges students to “be more involved.

“Be more involved in the life of the school than perhaps I was, because I think that life is not so much about what you learn in school, it’s about the people you meet and the networks you form, and about the things you learn from other people.” Quoting the Canadian songwriter Joni Mitchell, he says, “You don’t know what you’ve got until its gone.” The second piece of advice he gives is to “make sure that you spend some time doing things outside of college, so you get a different dimension on life and start to make some friends and have some experiences that tell you a bit more about the world outside of what is a sheltered place here. I say that in a positive way, but [Trinity College] is not the real world.”

On Monday 24 February 2014, John Tory filed registration papers officially announcing his candidacy for mayor of the City of Toronto.

Salterrae • March 2014

On the Bookshelves of Men and Women of College...

Into the Woods By: Rebecca Zhu Illustration: Claire Shenstone-Harris

Bryn Orth-Lashley (Jack) is reading… Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis

Kazantzakis’s novel describes a young, brooding intellectual and his interactions with the impulsive and boisterous Zorba. The two characters foil one another: the unnamed scholarly narrator seeks a life dedicated to furthering the mind, while Zorba justifies his life of drinking, eating, and womanizing as an existence centered on action and fulfillment. Kazantzakis beautifully weaves philosophical musings into their conversations, finding simple, graceful ways to express complex issues.

His writing is fluid and tantalizing; when you finish this book, you’ll probably want to read more.

Allison Spiegel (Little Red) is reading…

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

After his father dies in the World Trade Centre attacks, nine-year-old Oskar Schell looks through his closet and finds a mysterious key. Oskar becomes determined to find the key’s corresponding lock, and his search takes him on adventures throughout New York City. Safran Foer depicts the emotional magnitude of post-9/11 trauma through the eyes of a young American child in this haunting tale of mourning, love, and family.

Amanda Greer (The Baker’s Wife) is reading…

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Amanda expects that one day she will magically wake up, look in the mirror, and realize that she is Tina Fey. Until that time comes, she can study up on her one great hero by reading Fey’s autobiography, Bossypants. In this book, SNL’s funniest gal recalls all the silliest events in her life, from fainting during her first gynecological visit to her responses to anonymous Internet haters. Other key stories include the birth of her daughter, introduced as ‘There’s a Drunk Midget in My House’, and the events following her marriage, which gives a nod to David Foster Wallace in its title ‘My Honeymoon, or A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again Either.’ Get ready to laugh your pants off.

Lauren Gillies (Lucinda)… East of Eden by John Steinbeck

East of Eden was written because the author wanted to describe the beauty of Salinas Valley to his children. While the novel aptly portrays the Californian countryside, it tells of the joys and sorrows of the Trask and Hamilton families. From Adam Trask’s oblivious marital bliss, to his wife Cathy’s sexual depravity, to the long philosophical talks of the Hamilton men, the author brings together themes of love, corruption, and self-destruction in the novel Steinbeck supposedly considered his magnum opus.

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Anya Broytman and Christopher Hogendoorn • Under the Kilt

Behind the Kilt: An Interview with Trinity’s Piper By: Anya Broytman and Christopher Hogendoorn Like the rest of the month, the last day of January was uncomfortably cold. We hurried across Devonshire Place and up to the door of St. Hilda’s.

Inside, Rory ‘Gus’ Sinclair – known about College for his annual appearances at the Lit’s Robbie Burns’ debate – is waiting. Like every time he comes around, he greets us with a smile.

You

hold the distinction of being the first

elected

Head

of

College. How

College

and

Head

of

Divinity in Heads?

Trinity Head of

did

switch from having an appointed

one person

to electing two separate

“In a word, democracy! It finally arrived at Trin.

I was in my third year, and Derwyn Owen was the Provost… You have to remember, we had very little freedom those days, no flexibility. Almost everything was chosen for you, and one of those mandatory subjects was called ‘Religious Knowledge.’ That was the last thing I would ever take, except it was compulsory. And Derwyn Owen taught it. I was surprised to find how much I liked it, and how much I liked him as a man.”

“Owen thought it ridiculous that the student government was headed by someone chosen by him from three candidates selected by the Divinity School. That’s the way John Strachan wanted it. I think it was a way of keeping ‘the rabble’ out of student government. But Owen suddenly announced there would be an election. Interestingly enough, despite the political ferment of the 1960s, it had not been demanded or fought for – it was just decided by Owen. So, democracy unexpectedly took hold. The time was right. When Derwyn Owen proposed this, we were all Vietnam War resisters, so it went along with the spirit of the moment.”

“The first election, my election, took place for 1967-1968. It was a very simple process. Unlike today, there was no campaigning. People just allowed their names to stand at the nomination meeting of the Men of College (the ladies in St. Hilda’s had a separate system). Someone asked me, ‘Would you run?’, and I said, ‘Yes.’ So I was elected Head of College. John Bosley, who would go on to become Speaker of the House of Commons under the Mulroney government, became Head of Arts. He was an interesting guy. He came from a real estate family, did business, and served on city council before going into national politics.

I remember very well how we two were nomi-

Photography: Christopher Hogendoorn

nated for those Trinity positions, but, ironically, don’t remember the election itself ! Anyway, we got elected somehow.”

What

was the role of the

Head

of

College

while you were here?

“Well, he was the Chair of the Board of Stewards, and was responsible for overseeing all student activities at the College. It was like a prime minister, with an overarching view of things, looking after both internal and external stuff. You represented your College on a number of commissions, because that was when the University government was changing, too. The present system of Governing Council and so on, that was all invented in that time, just after I left, but I came back to work as an Assistant Registrar at New College from 1970-1972.”

“There was a real concern, and there always will be, that the non-residents weren’t getting the full benefit of the College. They just hung out in The Buttery. We were always trying to figure out ways to get them to join in. Sometimes that was done through social years. We were ’68, and we were pretty active, so we tended to socialise.”

What was College life like in your time here?

“We did a lot of the same things you do today, like pouring people out for acting badly at table. But even in my time we would often invent reasons to do it! (laughs) On any night, we could throw people out. It was overwhelmingly juvenile. And, similarly to today, the ripped up gown was a peculiar badge of honour. The last thing you wanted to do is wear a pristinely untorn gown and look like a first year ‘worm’. To have it in tatters was a point in your favour.”

“If you were drinking in your rooms, you had to sign a book saying what you were bringing, like a case of twenty-four or something like that. If anything happened, people could go to the book and say: ‘Well this guy’s been drinking, you know, as much as Rob Ford.’ So people just didn’t sign the book; you didn’t want to leave a trail.”

What was your experience with the TrinitySt.Hilda’s segregation? Was there a lot of contact or did they feel like completely separate communities?

21

“I’ll tell you, when I look back…I mean, of course that was what you did; men and women didn’t mix. I mean, we had dances and social events, but it was not a big thing. One of the big issues I had in my year as Head of College was when I went to the Provost, after a Board of Stewards meeting, to request, for the night of Conversat, that women be allowed to stay overnight. To my amazement, he said ‘yes.’ But that lasted only twenty-four hours. He called me up the next morning and said: ‘I can’t sleep. I can’t imagine what made me say this.’ He rescinded his ‘yes’ and we had to bring this news back. He said: ‘If I had to go back and explain to people’s parents why I allowed this, they would accuse me of running a fornicatorium.’”

“Of course, times have changed, and I’ve become a different person through that. I became quite left over time and still am. I’m an NDP guy. I will never join an organization that’s only men. That’s a matter of principle. There are a few left, like the Masons, for example. Because I play the bagpipes, I have played at different Masonic Lodges. Here’s the scenario for women: you’re married to a Mason, you show up, he goes into the hall, and you sit there for four hours and talk to the other women, and then they come out, and you may go for a drink or two. So with that perspective, [all-men’s organizations] are something like flies in amber; they’re relics of old times.”

How did the tradition of you appearing at the Robbie Burn’s Debate start? How do you feel about it?

“I learned pipes as a kid, actually. I was born in Toronto, in fact I’m a fourth generation Torontonian, but my family moved up to the Ottawa Valley when I was about four. I learned pipes up there, thanks to my father. I was a third son. My eldest brother couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

The second son refused outright. And I was musical, so I said, ‘Sure!’ But at fourteen I quit, in a fight with my dad. I no longer wanted to be anything he wanted me to be. In fact, my name really is Rory, but at that time I chose to go by Gus instead. And that’s how it all ended. Still, I took up my pipes again in 1991. And, somehow, [former Dean of Men and Registrar] Bruce Bowden got wind of that. He was a classmate of mine. So he asked me to come and pipe the throng of incoming students over to MacMillan Theatre for Matriculation. And I still do this every year.”

Anya Broytman and Christopher Hogendoorn • Under the Kilt

“As for the ‘Address to a Haggis’ at the Robbie Burns debate, I used to do it in Strachan Hall for the first fifteen years or so. It was kind of distracting: the students liked it, but the head table never paid attention. (chuckles) It was done on a Wednesday during the High Table. They were too busy with their guests or something, and the kids were getting all excitable again, trying to pour someone out, for instance. It was a bit chaotic; doing it in the JCR during the Lit Debate works better.”

“I consider it a real point of privilege that this bagpipe and Robbie Burns thing has been going on for so long: it’s been over twenty years. The young people that I played for in 1991 are now in their forties! It is great to have this little bit of continuous contact with students over the years that none of the other alumni really get. This is our little private dirty secret, if you will, nobody else does it, as far as I know. Not just Burns, but the whole relationship I maintain with the College. It’s always the head of the Lit who sends me an invitation. (grins) Sometimes it is timely, sometimes less timely, but somehow it’s always done, they never miss it. This custom is being passed on through generations of students.”

What was the Lit like in your time?

“I was not that active in the Lit. I used to go to the Freshman Debate, to see what the freshman could do, if they could hold their own. I had too many fish in the fire, so I didn’t participate fully.

The structure hasn’t changed at all... Of the debates I did see, they were kind of rowdy affairs. I remember the people being disrespectful of their opponents in a very polite way. It was really neat.

One guy, Scott Hall, one of the funniest men I’ve ever met, was in my year. He and Bosley, whom I mentioned earlier, they were both at UCC. Scott put Bosley off his game by mispronouncing his name; he called him ‘Bösely.’ Bosley got up: ‘Mr. Speaker, would you please tell him to pronounce my name correctly.’ ‘Would you please say ‘Mr. Bosley’?’ ‘Mr. Bosley.’ He would move on, but two seconds later, ‘Mr. Bösely insists on saying…’ It was a rowdy debate. It was deliberately off-putting, and I thought it was pretty brilliant. The ability to respond and rebut your opponents, that’s where the skill is. You were up there, on your feet.”

Not a lot of students know you beyond the bag-pipes. What did you end up doing once you left the College?

“I had a very interesting life, and not the one my contemporaries had, who I’m still friends with.

There’s about eight of us who still get together every summer, or have been in the last ten years or so, since we all reconnected, at an island in Georgian Bay that this guy owns, which is thirteen acres. Very, very nice, right? I do not have

an island in Georgian Bay. I don’t have an island anywhere. When I graduated, I was going to go to law school, and I was pretty sure I was going to get accepted. But I figured I had been going to school too long and if I was really going to go back, I’d go back.”

“With that in mind, I went up to the Yukon and worked in an asbestos mine, where I made enough money to travel around the world for an extra year.

You worked fifteen days on, one day off. I spent time in the Malamute Saloon, up there in the land of the midnight sun. There was one night, it was amazing, there was an Irish table, a Lebanese table, a French from Québec table, a French from France table, all in the dining hall. The Irish guys were spectacular because they were full of beans, they could talk like hell, fought like crazy, and they were always friends the next day on the bus going up to the mill. On New Year’s Eve, 1968 going to ’69, maybe seventy or eighty of us were all sitting in this Quonset hut, and the head of the Irish guys gets up and says: ‘I’d like you all to be quiet now. Jimmy is going to recite some poetry.’

So he recited, from memory, The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew, one after the other, without missing a trip. Those are some wonderful moment.”

“Then I traveled around the world for a year and came back, and got involved in a commune. I started it with a couple of friends. We lived down on Soho Street, just off Queen. It was all part

22

of the socialist ideal. We did that for a year, and we contributed on a percentage basis of what we made. If you were a waitress, you put in a little bit, but I was a university administrator, as an assistant registrar, so I put in a lot more. But that fell into something else, a tighter group that I was in for eighteen years, 1970-1988. But we did some interesting things.”

“We got involved in the case of Rubin ‘Hurricane’ Carter. He was a black boxer accused of a triple homicide in 1966 in Paterson, New Jersey. It was a put-up job, and he got railroaded into jail on false testimony. He was convicted twice; he got a second trial in 1976. Muhammed Ali and lots of people made a public outcry because it was unjust. Bob Dylan wrote that great song ‘Hurricane.’

But when the door closed a second time, Rubin thought he was in for good because, how do you beat a rap twice?”

“We got involved through a sequence of fluky events. There was a black kid from Brooklyn, whom we’d met while working down there at the Environmental Protection Agency, testing a petrol-saving device. The device was useless, but the kid came to live with us. We basically educated him using Toronto Board of Education correspondence courses. He was in grade ten, but he didn’t know what a continent was, and thought the country he lived in was New York, so there were a lot of holes to fill.”

Salterrae • March 2014 “[When the case got started] we became heavily involved, and several of us moved to New York to work on the case. I went down. We went just as university graduates, no law school. We all had BAs. We were smart. We were working with the lawyers in New York – two really well known lawyers. They were working pro bono, for nothing, and they did that for fifteen years. They were asked at a final press conference how much money they had put in...”

Rory has to stop for a second and fight back tears. ‘I get emotional about this,’ he says.

“They said that they put in, if they were able to bill for the out-of-pocket stuff, approximately $15 million. And they did it for nothing. Well, we did too. We sold our house. We had a nice big house that we’d bought. We were wholesaling fabric; as a commune, that’s how we made some money.

We had a shop in Yorkville for nine years, were we sold this fabric from South East Asia. In 1979, Spandex came in. We were selling natural cotton, so our business was dead. It was about that time we got involved in Rubin’s case, and we became completely obsessed by it. The reason was because the leader of the group, who was a woman, fell in love with him.”

“It sounds hard to believe, but we used to read a lot of books. When we brought Rubin in, we picked up a lot of books on black heroes. One of the books I got out of the library was The Sixteenth Round by Rubin Carter. Our leader read it first. (By the way, we didn’t consider her a leader at the time; I’m calling her that in retrospect, because she was a very dynamic kind of character.

I felt she was something like a crypto-Nazi by the end, which is why I walked out in ’88.”

“In any case, we got heavily involved, and in order to get him out of jail, our friend, because we had all become friends with him, a very dynamic, interesting guy, we went down to live there and worked on the case. We worked on the facts of the case. The record for the case was about four shelves going all the way around a room about 2/3 the size of this, all in bankers boxes. That was the case since the original trial in ’66, and all the various evidentiary hearings. We did nothing for two and a half years but read those documents, page after page, five times each. We knew the case better than anyone, better than the lawyers. When we wrote the briefs, the lawyers wrote the law.

They did the precedents; we did what the case was and what the points were. We wrote for the habeas corpus proceeding in New Jersey, the Third Circuit Court of Appeals, and the Supreme Court.

We won at all levels, but the prosecution kept appealing all the way to the Supreme Court.”

“So, Rubin was out in ’85. We went to live in New York until ’88, then he came back to Canada to live with us. That’s the good news. The bad news

was that the group dynamic went to shit. There was this ever-demented leader of ours. I walked out in 1988 and got my life back. I started from scratch, with nothing. We had $150000 in the bank; I got $1500. I had a big confrontation when I left.”

Actually, it wasn’t a commune; it was a cult.

I would never have called it that at the time.

“After that, I was standing on the corner of College and University with two cardboard boxes and a suitcase. I got into a relationship with a woman whom I’m still very happily with. She had been part of the group as well, but she had left separately. We got together, I started my own company, and here I am. I’m a general contractor, mostly residential stuff, since 1992.” “[The commune] wrote a book, after I left, called Lazarus and the Hurricane. In it, we’re all named by only our first names. Everything is quite detailed about Rubin’s background and so on, but I think they thought they were being modest or something [by only using first-names]. Sometimes modesty has a way of leaping out at you. ‘Look how modest I am!’ My view is that, if you’re going to make your story understandable to other people, you have to be the same kind of person they are. I’m nobody special, but you sure seem special when you’ve only got a first name, like this deus ex machina angel descending from the heavens to do mercy somewhere. That’s not relatable.”

“Rubin was [arrested] because, in 1966, you had Martin Luther King Jr., peaceful opposition, non-

23

aggressive, we-shall-overcome, style activists, and then you had people like Malcolm X. Rubin was a great admirer of Malcolm X. Rubin fought with his fists, and didn’t take shit from anybody. He beat down the New Jersey State prison system.

He would spend weeks, months in the hole. When he was in prison, you had to wear stripes, like the kind you see in cartoons. He refused to wear it.

He said ‘I don’t belong here.’ He wanted to wear his street clothes. So they put him in the hole.

He’d come back out, they’d say ‘Gonna wear the uniform?’ ‘Nope.’ Back in the hole. He did that for years, until, finally, they allowed him to wear civilian clothes. He refused to eat prison food, so he had friends bring him food. He lost tonnes of weight. He was stating the principle ‘My body is not yours. My body is mine. I get to tell you what to do with it. You don’t get to screw around with it.’ He’s the same kind of guy to this day.”

What

draws you to the

it nostalgia?

Do

College

today?

Is

you still get that sense

of continuity with the

Trinity

you used to

know? Is it completely different?

“I think in the first instance I do it because it’s a part of me. This is where I acquired sentience as an adult in many ways. I acquired a bunch of sentience later, too, but this was a good place for me to spend some important years. It was a place, where, actually, sometimes I had second thoughts about. I didn’t go to any reunions because I thought it was an elitist place. I finally went to my first reunion in 1993. I wasn’t in touch with any of my Trinity friends while I was in the commune, or my high school friends, or my family, from 1970 until 1988. Actually, it wasn’t a commune; it was a cult. I would never have called it that at the time.

It took you away from your life, so it could deal with you separately. So, yeah, I came back and had a blast. I’ve come to terms with what the place is, and what my place is in it. And I’m delighted, and I’ll always make time for it, even if the invitation comes, as it has, like, two nights before.

And I opened this thing by saying how privileged I am with having this contact with different crops of students. When I was looking around the room [at the Robbie Burns Debate], I see pretty much the same group of people, the same impulses, the same… strive for decency.”

Thank you so much for sharing all this with us.

“There are a few things in life that make you think you are getting old. One is getting grey hair, the other one is losing it, and the third comes when someone wants to find out what it was like in the old days.”

This interview has been edited for length and concision.

Salterrae • March 2014

Goings On About Town By: Simone Garcia ART and LITERATURE What: The Disappearance of Darkness – The most recent exhibit from famed Canadian photographer Robert Burley features images which tell the story of photograph production and its related businesses. The exhibit is fresh to Toronto from the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa.

Come to the Ryerson Image Centre, and revel in nostalgia for the darkrooms of years past.

Where: Ryerson Image Centre, 33 Gould St. When: Until April 13.

Cost: Free.

MUSIC and THEATER What: A Tribe Called Red – Anyone who has taken FOR200 with Faisal Moola will appreciate the unique sound behind this electronic music group, who blend instrumental hip hop, reggae, moombahton and dubstep-influenced dance music with elements of First Nations music, particularly vocal chanting and drumming.

Where: The Hoxton.

When: March 7.

Cost: $15.00.

What: Childish Gambino – Rapper Donald Glover is on tour following the release of his newest album “Because the Internet” this December. is recent departure from NBC’s television series “Community”. Come to Sound Academy and see one of the most divisive and fast-rising musicians in North America.

Where: Sound Academy, 11 Polson St. When: March 24 Cost: From $39.50

Where: The Garrison, 1197 Dundas St. W. When: March 28.

Cost: $15.00.

What: The Neighborhood – The band behind “Sweater Weather” is coming to Toronto, coincidentally just as it warms up enough to get away with wearing just a sweater. All the more reason, then, to ditch your Canada Goose and head over to the Pier to hear this American rock group perform from their debut album, I Love You. Where: The Sound Academy, 11 Polson St. When: March 22.

Cost: $27.50 What: Arrabal - Told entirely in music and tango, Arrabal is inspired by events in Buenos Aires during the 1970s, following a young woman who explores the city’s underworld to find out how her father died and his death’s effect on Argentina.

Where: 488 College St. When: Opens February 1.

Cost: $5.00 for the games, beer is priced according to the brew.

What: Paintlounge – A unique concept for a group of friends or a memorable date, this newly-opened café provides lattes, a canvas, and paint supplies, allowing you to create and take home a piece of your own artwork. Unleash your inner Da Vinci, or just create something abstract – after all, art is anything you want it to be.

Where: 784 College St. When: Now open, hopefully for good.

Cost: Depends on your canvas size ($20 – $55), but the website provides coupons to receive up to 50% off.

Where: Panasonic Theatre, 651 Yonge St. When: February 4 – April 20.

Cost: From $44.

What: Cinéfranco Film Festival – The Cinéfranco festival is a unique opportunity for Torontonian francophiles to enjoy budding French films and brush up on their language skills. All films are subtitled in English, and many have met widespread critical acclaim, making this festival unmissable for Franco – and Anglophones alike.

What: Miley Cyrus – Here to promote her Bangerz album, this show is almost guaranteed to feature tongues and twerking. To prepare, why not catch a couple of episodes of Hannah Montana, just to see how far she has come.

Where: The Royal.

When: March 28 – April 6.

Cost: $5-12.00.

Where: Air Canada Centre, 40 Bay St. When: March 31.

Cost: From $100, but try your luck scalping.

CULTURE

What: Boy and Bear – Listening to this Australian indie/folk band, comprised of beautiful men, with beautiful accents, is definitely one of the best ways to spend a March evening. Why study for exams when you could marry an Australian?

board games, but now you can play them alongside alcoholic beverages and food.

What: Opening of Snakes and Lagers - Snakes & Lagers is a board game bar on College St. from the same team behind the ever-popular Snakes & Lattes. Similar to its predecessor, the new two-storey spot boasts a collection of 250+

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What: 501 Streetcar Food Tour - Get out of the Trin bubble and explore the whole 501 in style. This tour spans 28.1km of track, features a mouth-watering series of tastings, and makes a good date. Purchase tickets online at foodiesonfoot.ca Where: 501 Queen Streetcar Route.

When: March 9 & 23.

Cost: $69-80.