The Strand | Vol. 64, Issue 11

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STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 64, ISSUE 11 | 15 MARCH 2022

02 NEWS

EDITORS | SARAH ABERNETHY NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

As governments relax pandemic restrictions, UofT’s policies hold strong The UCheck system, indoor masking, and vaccination requirements will continue for the foreseeable future MAEVE ELLIS CONTRIBUTOR

While various levels of government have recently started loosening COVID19-related public health measures, the University of Toronto and other postsecondary institutions show every sign of remaining cautious.

In line with the ongoing trend of governments relaxing pandemic restrictions, the Ontario Government implemented the second phase of its COVID-19 reopening plan in early March, which included removing its proof of vaccination system and lifting capacity limits in different commercial venues. The federal government further reduced entry requirements for fully vaccinated travelers in late February.

In addition, on March 9, 2022, the Ford government announced an expedited plan to lift the provincial mask mandate on March 21, alongside various other COVID-19 isolation protocols.

On the other hand, since announcing increased in-person learning in late January, UofT has not revealed any plans to reduce its own COVID-19 safety measures.

The University’s media relations department further indicated to The Strand that it would not follow the Ontario Government’s lead in removing its mandatory vaccination policy for the rest of the school year. This is in line with advice from the Council of Ontario Universities.

Bethany Osborne, the Director of Communications of Ontario’s Ministry of Colleges and Universities, told The Strand that the government’s recent removal of restrictions does not have a binding effect on post-secondary institutions. In an emailed statement, she said that such institutions “are legally autonomous and have the discretion to maintain vaccination policies on their campuses.”

Students who spoke with The Strand had differing opinions on whether UofT should follow the government’s lead in reducing

public safety measures.

Eden Zorne, an undergraduate pursuing European studies, History, Russian, and Ukrainian, told The Strand, “UofT needs to keep the vaccine requirement… I mean, look at the ‘Freedom Convoy.’ Those aren’t the type of people I want to be in nonsocially distanced classes with.”

However, others pointed out the challenges associated with continued limited contact, including less accessibility to the school’s facilities. Chiara Dessberg, a first-year student studying humanities, said, “while it is difficult sometimes to kind of manage school and social aspects with the COVID restrictions… I think right now it’s been pretty effective for the most part.”

The UofT Students’ Union, UofT Mississauga Students’ Union, and UofT Scarborough Campus Students’ Union did not reply to requests for comment on their positions and advocacy regarding pandemic measures on campus.

PHOTO | KIM NGAN PHUNG

The Freedom Convoy at the University of Toronto How the University community has responded to the Freedom Convoy protests ROY SHI STAFF WRITER

On January 28, 2022, hundreds of vehicles carrying thousands of protesters entered Ottawa and occupied the city for over four weeks before police succeeded in dispersing crowds on February 20. Participants were spotted carrying hate symbols such as swastikas and Confederate flags. Residents of Ottawa were targeted by protesters who engaged in harassing speech, assault, and mischief for the duration of the demonstration.

Similar movements across the country appeared under the umbrella of the Freedom Convoy.

Demonstrators in Toronto began to gather around Queen’s Park on February 5, prompting Toronto Police to indefinitely close roads leading towards the Legislative Assembly of Ontario.

Protest organisers gathered donations through the online fundraising platforms GoFundMe and GiveSendGo. By February 3, over $10 million had been collected through GoFundMe before the campaign was suspended for violating GoFundMe’s terms of service. Another $12 million was raised

through an alternative crowdfunding platform known as GiveSendGo. These funds were frozen by an Ontario court on February 10.

On February 13, the leak website Distributed Denial of Secrets published a list of donors to the Freedom Convoy obtained from a GoFundMe database. Twelve members of the University of Toronto community appeared on the list, including three professors, one graduate student, and three alumni. Two of the three professors identified did not respond to The Strand’s request for comment.

One of the professors confirmed that they donated to the Freedom Convoy, stating, “my views are nuanced.”

The Strand asked a student at the University of Toronto on how she felt that members of the University’s faculty had been identified as donors to the Freedom Convoy. “That’s really, really disappointing,” she told The Strand. “Really disgusting.”

The student shared some interactions between her friends and the protesters during the demonstrations with The Strand. “A few of my friends were just walking in the area and one girl

got called a bitch. They were yelled at, it was not a safe or positive environment at all.” She added, “it was upsetting to see something like that happen so close to UofT. It just made it hit home a lot more.”

The student requested to remain anonymous after the interview.

In response to protests around Queen’s Park, the University’s Vice-President and Provost Cheryl Regehr issued statements advising students and faculty members to “avoid the Queen’s park area” and “remain vigilant of the St. George campus.”

The University also closed a number of buildings, including the John P. Robarts Research Library.

Toronto Police have not responded to The Strand’s inquiry on what measures, in addition to road closures, were taken to ensure public safety near Queen’s Park during the Freedom Convoy protests in Toronto at the time of publication.

University of Toronto Campus Police referred The Strand to University of Toronto Media Relations, which also has not responded to inquiry requests.

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 15 MARCH 2021

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine What you need to know, as explained by Ukrainian voices on campus

PHOTO | MATTI

ALESSANDRA CASTINO CONTRIBUTOR

On February 24, 2022, Russia’s president Putin declared the start of a military invasion of Ukraine. From the way the media talks about the situation, it seems completely unexpected. However, in an interview with The Strand, Marta Perehinets—the First Year Representative of the Ukrainian Students’ Club (USC) at UofT—reminds us: “Our community is not living in a new and sudden fight between Ukraine and Russia. This recent invasion is simply the straw breaking the camel’s back.”

This conflict is the climax of events that started back in 2014. Taking advantage of a power vacuum created by the ousting of pro-Russia president ​​Viktor Yanukovych, Putin invaded Crimea and backed proRussia separatists in the regions of Donetsk and Luhansk—the same regions that were recognised as independent republics by Russia on February 21, 2022. Because of this, Ukraine’s relations with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) immediately increased. This eastward expansion of NATO has been used by Putin as a pretext for this war.

However, this war is not about possible threats; rather, it concerns Putin’s own imperialist agenda. He appears to want to establish a buffer zone “resembling the power Moscow wielded in Soviet days,” as written by Bilefsky, PerezPena, and Nagourney in the New York Times.

Putin justifies the invasion by calling into question Ukraine’s sovereignty, stating that “Russians and Ukrainians are one people.”

Hundreds of years of history say otherwise, as Ukraine has developed its own culture and traditions that cannot be agglomerated with Russia’s. Perehinets recalls stories of her parents, how they “grew up in a regime where Ukrainian culture, and the very existence of Ukraine, was forcibly banned and actively erased.” Her parents' lives in such a “horrific environment prompted an incredibly patriotic Ukrainian identity that was instilled in my sister and myself, for which I am forever grateful.”

Now, Russian troops are advancing towards Kyiv, which has been bombed consistently for the past few days. Talks between the two countries have been inconclusive, with no cease-fire apparent in the near future. Canada and other countries are removing Russian

banks from the SWIFT payment network, as well as implementing sanctions and sending weapons to Ukraine. According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), more than 2.6 million people have been displaced since the beginning of the conflict [as of March 13, 2022]. The Ukrainian community in Canada, says the USC, is putting its differences aside and is coming “together by the thousands to support [its] country.” UofT has been supportive of Ukrainian students in granting them extensions; however, USC also calls for more empathy from some staff members.

Perehinets’s words make clear the sense of injustice: “It’s safe to say that we’re angry as a community—angry that this is happening again and again, not only to us.” Many in the Ukranian community feel that the current international response is not enough: “I don’t think the international community will have done enough until they close Ukraine’s sky from Russian bombs. They won’t have done enough if Putin isn’t in jail or in hell.”

“Ukraine has been crying for help for 8 years,” says Perehinets. “It’s time for the world to listen.”

04 EDITORIAL

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | KHADIJA ALAM EDITOR@THESTRAND.CA

Phantasm

the

strand V O L U M E

Reflections on illusions

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The Strand has been the newspaper of record for Victoria University since 1953. It is published 12 times a year with a circulation of 1200 and is distributed in Victoria University buildings and across the University of Toronto’s St. George campus.

The Strand flagrantly enjoys its editorial autonomy and is committed to acting as an agent of constructive social change. As such, we will not publish material deemed to exhibit racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, or other oppressive language.

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We draw our own “pink” lives as kids. But the journey of creating it—turning the picture into real life—is like walking endlessly in a desert that’s infinite with unexpected optical illusions. In the journey where childhood turns into adulthood, our exploration of ourselves becomes increasingly ambiguou. External pressures

affect how we see ourselves.

Through the many expectations others set on us, self-doubt arises. In any walk of life, our self-image wavers through these doubts, just like mirages. We grasp at our future selves, our goals, our achievements.

The mirror is the go-to place for any secrets, any ambition, any self-reflection. It is the best friend that will never betray.

Credits: Photo & Editing: Kim Ngan Phung & Arthur Dennyson Hamdani Models: Asmi Shukla & Polen Light Makeup and Support: Tasnim Anzar Props: Anna Sokolova Editor's note: This is a preview of The Strand's Spring 2022 magazine, MIRAGE.

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | EMMA PAIDRA OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Nailing the art of caring just enough Looking back on the words of Joan Didion the right shapes onto paper, to arrange words in just the right order to mean something—while at Joan Didion, who passed on December 23, 2021, the same time mocking their self-importance and is perhaps best known for the opening sentence to attempt at meaning anything at all.

Commitment to self-apprehension has also her book of non-fiction essays, The White Album: led me to the fact that my take on this situation (or, really, most situations) is no fringe opinion; if there is one thing Joan Didion’s work has taught me, it is that most of the thoughts and experiences and regrets we guard as so intimately our own have “We tell ourselves stories in already been thought, experienced, and regretted by a whole slew of strangers. As Didion says: order to live.”

FIZZAH MANSOOR CONTRIBUTOR

Over a life of reading and self-storytelling, there are few specific instances that I can point to and claim as my own personal moments of revelation.

I understand and absorb most of what I read as knowledge to be stored for some imaginary future use—I never expect it to bowl me over, to shake me out of irony and insincerity. I write to feel in control of the fragile narrative I create around myself: aloof and probing, cold and unbearably vulnerable all at the same time. I treat literature as an opportunity for escape, even when it is of a decidedly non-escapist nature. To live inside the mind of another person is a joy I cannot fully articulate, not in small part because it allows the opportunity to stop living inside my own.

I recently came up with a name for this peculiar brand of relationship to one’s self: selfapprehension. Self-apprehension is self-acceptance soaked ten times in self-doubt. Self-acceptance is accepting that there is something wrong with yourself, so you better monitor and record yourself as often as you possibly can to avoid running the risk of stumbling forwards into blissful ignorance or backwards into plain old ignorance. Selfapprehension is refusal to commit to a side, to bounce between extremes of being. Ultimately, your head spins enough to splatter ink in just PHOTO | JULIAN WASSER

managed to soften its edges for me without letting me lose sight of the chaos at its center. From the other side of the world, she was able to show me that it is indeed possible to fall in love with a place you have never been to, and that doesn’t seem to deserve love in the first place. Her long-suffering New York, her irreverent Las Vegas, her hopeless Sacramento, her restless Miami, her panicked Los Angeles, her forsaken San Francisco. These were all characters in their own right that paint the picture of a country that is whole in its fractured state, that proves the sheer power of capital and will and greed and optimism at changing the very nature of the human soul.

Didion’s death was one I was not prepared for, and yet knew exactly how to react to. In The Year of Magical Thinking, published in the wake of the “One of the mixed blessings of sudden passing of her daughter, Quintana and being 20 and 21 and even 23 husband, writer John Dunne, Didion commented is the conviction that nothing extensively on grief—almost in an effort to grasp articulation. In an echo of her iconic opening like this, all evidence to the sentence from The White Album, she acknowledges contrary notwithstanding, has that the primal urge to retreat into our memories ever happened to anyone be- when faced with loss comes from the desire to keep the dead alive. To live in your head is to fore.” tell yourself tales, to do a disservice to the world by not allowing those stories to be critiqued and questioned, the way any good work of journalism is. To move on from grief is to come to terms with The only thing that sets a person apart is their loss as it is; to move on from grief is to let go of the take on the observations they make; impartiality is dead by letting go of the stories about them that futile, because the mere act of telling a story means can only be told to yourself. In Didion's words: a side has been committed to. The subject of Joan Didion’s New Journalism at the start of her career was always America. I found it absolutely fascinating to see an American dissect the country so sincerely; “I also know that if we are to America was where most of my family immigrated live ourselves there comes to in the wake of crises at home. America was the reward for excelling at school. America was a refuge a point at which we must from regional and financial instability. America relinquish the dead, let them was the promised land, in every sense of the word. go, keep them dead.”

At the same time, America was hostile. America was merciless, and uncompromising. Joan Didion

06 UNRAVELLED

EDITOR | DREW-ANNE GLENNIE NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

Demystifying student fees The Strand investigates student fees at Vic so you don’t have to DREW-ANNE GLENNIE NEWS CO-EDITOR

This year, it costs full-time students at least $512 to be a member of Victoria College.

Victoria College is not unique in this regard— every college at the University of Toronto (UofT) requires extra fees to be a member—but it is the most expensive. Misguided attempts have emerged in lowering student fees such as the Student Choice Initiative, which probably every newspaper in the province has written about, including The Strand.

Without advocating for wholesale defunding, however, Victoria College’s high level of student fees still allows for—or perhaps requires—questions about how and why money is being used. $445.44 to the Dean’s Office Fees that go directly to the college are the ones which bear the heaviest burden on Victoria College students.

Full-time students pay $218.91 for student services. While exact budgets are not accessible online, Dean Kelley Castle explained in an email to The Strand that these fees not only contribute to support services but also supplement endowments for conferences, student supports, and cocurricular opportunities. They also contribute to Victoria College’s transition programming, equity programming, graduation banquet/ceremonies, peer support programs, and skills development programming. Students also pay a student centre fee that goes towards the Goldring Student Centre’s mortgage, totalling $200 yearly for those attending full-time.

In addition, full-time non-residents pay a $26.53 commuter fee which “contributes to the provision of an onsite personal counsellor, a counsellor for BIPOC identified students, Commuter dons, Goldring Commuter programming … and Commuter orientation,” according to Castle. “We also allocate funds to particular projects in oncampus Commuter spaces drawing on requests made through the Dean’s Advisory Committee, VUSAC, and other student groups.”

Over the past five years, the student services fee has been trending upward (rising by just over 4% when accounting for inflation) while the yearly commuter fee rose from $30.80 in 201718 to $34.66 in 2020-21 before dropping down this year; the student centre fee has remained constant including through COVID-19. “Victoria University’s Board of Regents approves fee amounts every year. They are guided by a Board protocol that was developed with extensive input from students,” explained Castle. $66.52 to VUSAC The Victoria University Students' Administrative Council (VUSAC), which directly receives $24.93 per full-time student, is the representative student society at Victoria College. Their budget is divided

amongst clubs, commissions, executives, and staff.

“Fees must contribute to Vic students and the community,” explained VUSAC President Jerico Raguindin in an email to The Strand. “We are generally not profit-generating, nor do we seek to be—any profits made are usually contributed to a charitable cause or supplements a big expense.”

The rest of VUSAC’s fees—totalling $41.59—go towards levies which “address particular needs and provide crucial services at Vic.” They differentiate from clubs in that they are financially and operationally independent whilst still following VUSAC’s standards; this autonomy also means they set their own student fees.

VUSAC fundees submit a suggested budget in line with VUSAC’s policies; the Vice-President Student Organizations (VPSO) helps clubs and levies think through their budget, particularly in helping decide what sort of programming they'd like to offer. Kate Haberl explained that “the Budget Steering Committee reviews those budgets to make sure that all of their proposed expenses are ethical and within our boundaries.” The budget is then voted on by the VUSAC council at ratification meetings, wherein they typically review major line items—for instance, costing over $500—rather than going lineby-line. Any subsequent expenditure additions need to be ratified by the council.

Full-time VUSAC fees—including for levies— have hovered within the $33-$34 per semester range over the past five years, save for last year when it was about $32.50 in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. This means that, when taking inflation into account, VUSAC’s student fees have actually gone down in real terms. An optimistic outlook is that VUSAC is trying to alleviate their financial burden on students; a pessimistic one is that they did not need that much money in the first place.

How does VUSAC spend fees?

VUSAC’s Finance Chair Katherine Hovdestad is currently undertaking a novel levy audit, shedding light on budget utilisation. This year, several levies have budgeted for more than their annual student fees by using past years’ surpluses: The Strand ($3.00 for full-time students) is using 110% of this year’s student fees, Victoria College Athletic Association (VCAA, $3.00) is using 131%, Vic Xposure ($1.00) is using 164%, and The Cat’s Eye ($2.00) is using 245%. Save for the Victoria International Student Association (VISA, $0.20) who are slated to spend essentially all of their student fees, all other levies are expected to fall short. Vic Pride! ($0.32) is expected to use 29% of their student fees this year and have $1,971.70 in surplus; Acta Victoriana ($1.63) expects 38% and $8,806.50 respectively; and BLVCK ($0.77) expects 82% and $966.47. Even The Strand, VCAA, and VicXposure have enough

built-up surplus that they have yet to budget for $16,671.55, $3,859.23, and $1,151.34 of this years’ fees respectively (figures accurate as of March 12).

In response, VPSO Kate Haberl wrote to The Strand that “it's not over until it's over—budget utilisation will continue to fluctuate over the rest of the semester as the ability of levies to plan and hold programming changes due to COVID-19, and as they continue to make budget amendments to use their funds, so honestly looking at their utilisation in the middle of the semester is not a very accurate way of assessing how they're doing in terms of using funds.”

As of now, the Finance Chair “optimistically” expects $33,426.79 in total levy surplus this year.

VUSAC reports that one of their main priorities for the rest of this year as working with levies to decrease this.

The audit also revealed what percentage of 20212022 budgeted funds is dedicated to honoraria, which are compensation “given in an effort to eliminate financial barriers and hopefully make some of Vic's most demanding and time-consuming student leadership opportunities more accessible to students.” Of particular note are Vic Xposure (17%), The Cat’s Eye (21%), and Acta Victoriana (34%). “I know that's a controversial topic,” wrote Haberl. “All I will say is that Vic's student leaders put a tremendous amount of work into their positions, and if you look at the actual dollar amount they are being paid, it's hardly outrageous amounts.”

Amongst levies, this ranges from $500 to $2000 each. According to Haberl, she and the Finance Chair have been evaluating honoraria and working with levies using relatively higher percentages of their budgets.

Both World University Service of Canada (WUSC, $2.50) and Student Projects ($3.00) are managed externally from VUSAC, so they were not subject to this audit. Meanwhile, Caffiends ($0.13) is a unique case as they are profit generating; they budget for 2071% of their student fees and use café profits to pay for honoraria, which equals 21% of their budgeted funds this year. The Victoria College Drama Society (VCDS, $3.25) have yet to have their budget ratified at time of publication and thus the Finance Chair has been unable to complete their audit.

While the Finance Chair did not undertake an audit on broader VUSAC, similar statistics can be uncovered. VUSAC spent 49% of their budgeted funds in the fall of 2021; for this semester, the council is over-budgeting because—as seen throughout this article—it is difficult for groups to use up 100% of their budgeted funds. VUSAC honoraria adds up to $8000 in the Fall Budget or 14.67% of the budgeted expenses (and 29.67% of their actual spending)

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while this semester’s $5,500 is 4.4% of budgeted expenses (accurate as of the March 4 VUSAC meeting). This goes towards the President, who receives $8000 in the fall term; the three VicePresidents who are accorded $1000 each in the winter budget; and the five Staff members who receive $500 at the end of the year.

At the March 4 VUSAC Meeting, Equity Commissioner Cam Miranda-Radbord forwarded a motion to raise the President Salary to $1,500 to the President and the three Vice-Presidents’ to $3,000 each, while providing $500 each to the 14 Commissioners and Co-Chairs. The amendment cites “that students who need to pay for housing, food, and tuition, holding a VUSAC position often cannot be balanced with a part-time job and classes ... this leads to the exclusion of valuable would-be advocates, clashing with one of VUSAC’s core goals of equity.”

Beyond the statistics This year’s Finance Chair has also explicitly published the amount actually spent for each budget line as opposed to just the funds initially requested, allowing us an inside look which—amongst the five budgets available online—was only also accessible in 2018-2019.

VUSAC reported spending $26,968.86 of their requested $54,536.65 in the fall of 2021, and has budgeted $125,046.82 for winter 2022. “I would classify the three things we do to be advocacy, programming, and services—with these being prioritised differently with different councils and circumstances,” explained Raguindin. VUSAC’s non-honoraria budget can largely be understood along those lines.

The majority of VUSAC funds go towards programming—namely events, meetings, and giveaways—reaching $12,401.20 in fall 2021 and budgeted for $88,395.76 in winter 2022. These expenses include food, physical goods, promotion/ advertising, rentals, decorations, entrance fees, transportation, publishing, required websites/ domains, and honoraria for guests/presenters/ workers. In fall of 2021, services were only $5,095.44 for photocopier usage and lease as the Office remained closed; $13,324.06 is budgeted for winter 2022, now including safe sex supplies, snacks/drinks, office supplies, phone lines, the community fridge, and copy paper.

Only $500 was directly dedicated to advocacy this year, through consultations on UofT sexual violence policy. However, it must be noted that engagement can manifest elsewhere. Raguindin provided a list: “Engaging with Victoria College and University of Toronto administration to lobby, demand, and create change in a myriad of aspects at this institution ... Collaborating with admin when possible and building bridges with other student groups ... to create a stronger unified voice.

Conducting surveys and data collection on students to amplify their voice and better represent them.

Providing resources by way of funding, connections, and labour power to students who would like to pursue advocacy projects. Reacting to relevant community events happening at Vic, UofT, and Toronto.”

Non-honoria budgeting is more unilateral for levies: “They do a massive amount of work to provide students with great programming,” explained Haberl in an email to The Strand. “Without them, Vic's student life simply wouldn't be what it is!"

In the fall, their programming both directly and indirectly—such as by extensive upgrades to The Cat’s Eye—cost $23,179; for the winter semester, $36,770.69 is budgeted.

VUSAC also budgeted for $5,226 in council and club merchandise this year, and $6,700 across the executive, office, and some commission for contingencies/unplanned expenses this semester; levies budgeted $3,416.16 and $1,050 respectively.

Caffiends, while also hosting events and purchasing merchandise, is somewhat of an anomaly: it’s not generally programming or service, but a profit generating business. To pay for the goods required to operate, they consumed $5,516.25 in fall 2021 and are expected to use $805.67 this semester, with the rest of their expenses covered by sales.

Student Fees and The COVID-19 Pandemic The COVID-19 pandemic had a tremendous effect on VUSAC and its levies. In-person programming has been restricted if not totally impossible since March 2020, forcing organisations to deliver their programming online; the turbulent waves have also made the foreplanning that comes with submitting budgets difficult. According to Haberl, there were several instances where restrictions threw a hatchet into already-budgeted plans. “Frankly, there just is not as much for clubs and levies to spend their money on when they cannot do in-person programming,” she stated. “Moreover, low participation has been very discouraging and many clubs and levies feel that it is not an appropriate use of funds to put on lavish events for only a few attendees.”

Despite creative efforts to expend funds, this has led to surpluses all around of which there are caveats in spending. “When new fees are collected, it is done so with the expectation in mind that it is for that year. We are therefore limited with what we can do with surplus money of the year,” Raguidin wrote.

Unspent surplus remains in the VUSAC account indefinitely.

VUSAC suggests investing surplus into a project that will have lasting impact on the Vic students of today and tomorrow, as it “must impact the entirety of the Vic community.” In his email to The Strand, Raguindin explained that such proposals are evaluated by the Finance Chair along with the

council as “VUSAC proper, to my awareness, has actually not tackled spending the surplus.” The Strand, for instance, intends to spend down their surplus by buying new computers for the office to be used going forward, replacing the ones that have slowed due to the heavy software that publication requires.

Victoria College in context All federated colleges directly receive student fees: for full-time students at Trinity College it totals $324.86 and $266.44 at St Michael’s College (SMC).

While Trinity did not respond to The Strand’s request for comment, SMC Director of Communications Laurie Morris explained that there they “are used to support a variety of initiatives as appropriate, including orientation and transformational projects on campus such as upgrades and enhancements to student spaces.”

Amongst UofT student government fees for full-time students, VUSAC actually hovers in the middle alongside the University Literary & Athletics Society (UC Lit, $61.3) and SMC Student Union ($63.36). At the low end are the two most populous colleges: Woodsworth College Student Association (WCSA) receives $15 and New College Student Council (NCSC) receives $43. On the other side are the least populated colleges: Trinity College Meeting (TCM) receives $91 per student while the Innis College Student Society (ICSS) clocks in at $78.06. Likewise, while perhaps difficult to navigate for lay people (including yours truly), VUSAC is one of the more transparent college councils at UofT: WCSA and ICSS have not posted their budget to their website since 2018-2019 and 2019-2020 respectively.

Woodsworth VP of Financial Affairs Nithin Eluvathingal explained that they normally use any surplus to grant awards to their students; Raguidin told The Strand that this was not an option for VUSAC, as fees are designated for activities.

Meanwhile, both UC Lit and SMC Student Union representatives cited that they roll their surplus over into next year. The SMC Student Union VP of Finance Kamil Mansoori told The Strand that “to the best of my knowledge,” there are no additional regulations for spending past year's surplus fees at SMC. It remains unclear where VUSAC’s surplus policy comes from: Castle cited that she was unaware of it, and Raguindin did not respond in time for publication. TCM and NSSC did not respond to The Strand’s request, while the ICSS declined to comment.

All of this to say is that Victoria College and VUSAC are not necessarily isolated or unique when it comes to finances; similar inquiries could—and, I implore, should—be made elsewhere, particularly given the large role that income and wealth play in equity.

ILLUSTRATION | ROSA SCHAEFER BASTIAN

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | ANNA SOKOLOVA FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

Church and Vic

PHOTO | KIM NGAN PHUNG

A history

FEATURES 09

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 15 MARCH 2022

CALLAN MURPHY CONTRIBUTOR

When Canadian Methodists sought to establish a “Seminary of Learning” in 1830, they probably didn’t think that their legacy would be a Torontonian institution with co-ed residences and secular education. Victoria University may no longer be a symbol of Methodist strength in Upper Canada, but its relationship with the church over the past 186 years has been dynamic, to say the least.

In the British Empire during the early nineteenth century, religion was viewed as a necessary companion to academic learning. The question for grammar schools in Upper Canada was not if there would be Christian teaching, but often which Christian teaching.

Canada’s entwinement with Christianity began with the voyages of Jacques Cartier and the establishment of New France in 1534. Cartier claimed an area of land along the Gulf of St. Lawrence on behalf of the Roman Catholic Church of France, which he sought to protect from the “wicked Lutherans, [and] apostates”—despite the land belonging to the Haudenosaunee. Although Cartier was successful for some time, the settlement eventually collapsed in 1763, with the cession of New France to Britain.

The Church of England hoped to dominate the new territory. In 1791, the Crown reserved oneseventh of all public lands in Canada for a Protestant clergy, but discovered a weakness in political popularity. The well-established French Catholics challenged the English Protestants, as the two groups loomed over the land.

By the 1790s, a new player had joined the game: United Empire Loyalists fleeing the United States came by the thousands to spread their Evangelical ways to the Canadian population. These Methodists hoped to prove themselves as a formidable group in the years before Confederation, gaining some popularity as the underdog.

A young Christian leader who had been evicted from his home at 18 for converting to Methodism had unwavering views about access to education; Egerton Ryerson criticized clergy reserves, tuition costs, and the decentralized system of education in Upper Canada. When the Methodist Conference was held in 1829 to discuss congregational plans, education was a top priority. The proposal for a Methodist seminary was drafted and filed, but denied by the Legislative Assembly and Council in an act of religious prejudice. Lieutenant Governor Colborne ruthlessly stated that “the system of Education which has produced the best & ablest men in the United Kingdom will not be abandoned here to suit the limited views of the leaders of Societies, who perhaps have neither experience nor judgment to appreciate the value or advantages of a liberal education.”

Five years later, after an appeal to the British Crown and a trip to London, England by Ryerson, a charter was eventually granted—the first charter given to a nonconformist body for an educational institution.

In 1836, Ryerson wrote to the Law Officers of the Crown that “an institution, the primary object of which, as clearly expressed, is the education of youth, of poor young men of religious character and promising talents, and of native Indian youths connected with the Methodist congregations,

ought to be placed substantially under the pastoral head of the Church.” Ryerson’s obsession with the importance of Christianity in education led him to later play a role in the disastrous residential school system of Canada.

The Royal Charter of Upper Canada Academy boasted that “no religious test or qualification shall be required of, or appointed for, any person on his admission as a Student or Scholar into said Academy.”

The newly established board provisioned for a more equal admittance of students—so long as they expressed a willingness to adopt Christian values.

This was a bold contrast to the sectarian model of Canadian education, which saw the Anglican Bishop’s University founded in 1843, the Presbyterian Queen’s College in 1841, the Roman Catholic Regiopolis College in 1837, and the Baptist Acadia College in 1839. While Upper Canada Academy certainly joined the list as Canada’s standard Methodist institution, its openness to applicants was unusual.

Although the academy’s willingness to accept Indigenous students and students of any Christian denomination was extremely progressive for the time, it was done, unsurprisingly, under a veil of indoctrination. The school was established by the Methodist Church with the intention of combining secular and religious studies, which they believed to be inseparable.

In a similar manner, women students were widely accepted into the school, with the 74 women of the student body of 1840 nearly equaling the 96 men.

While this policy was at the forefront of women’s education in Canada, it still existed within the scope of academic inequalities and segregated schooling, dining, and housing—the latter two of which existed at Vic until 1988 and 1995, respectively.

Vic’s transformation from Upper Canada Academy to Victoria College in 1841 saw little change in the religious model of the school until the addition of the Faculty of Theology in 1871. But this period also saw the revoking of admittance of women students, who had previously been welcomed from 1836 to 1841. Many clergymen believed that women should assume a traditional “homemaker” role after attending grammar school, while postsecondary institutions should be reserved for men.

Once Victoria became a degree-granting institution, it followed in the footsteps of other colleges of the time and excluded women from admittance. This thirty-year stain was only reversed during the year that theology was introduced as a faculty.

In 1903, Margaret Addison’s first year as Dean of Annesley Hall, the “… majority [of the students] were Methodists or Presbyterians, a sprinkling of Anglicans, Baptists, and “others” leavened the mix; all professed some sort of religious belief and, for many, it was a cornerstone of their lives.” A proper religious lifestyle was critical to Addison and the administrators of Victoria College when pioneering Canada’s first women’s university residence; bigoted views of the Church translated into Victoria’s principles and actions. Margaret Proctor Burwash, a founding member of the Annesley Hall Building Committee, argued, “The higher education of women brings bane instead of blessing unless it gives them a higher ideal of the nobility and sacredness of their calling as homemakers.” Burwash and Addison struggled with progressive student views on one side, and the beliefs of authoritarian Methodist men on the other. During her time as Dean (until 1931), Addison’s strides to

grant independence and responsibility to the girls were often met with opposition. Albert Carman, general superintendent of the Methodist Church, heard from Chancellor Nathanael Burwash about the Dean’s “‘night watch keys’ for girls, of students returning to their rooms from amusements ‘after midnight,’ of their ‘attendance upon theatres and dances’” and responded, “This is not Methodism: I fear it leagues aside: this is not the pathway of healthful discipline or of sound and safe scholarship…” Margaret Addison’s willingness to bend rules and provide more autonomy to the Victoria Women’s Student Union contributed to Mr. and Mrs. Burwash’s 1913 resignations from the school, as they faced pressure from Methodist Church leaders like Carman.

It was not until the Methodists joined a group of Presbyterians and Congregationalists to form the United Church of Canada in 1925 that Vic saw drastic changes for its Methodist men. Disputes about the union of the Church and the Presbyterian Knox College eventually led to the creation of Emmanuel College in 1928, which formalized Victoria’s existing religious teaching into a separate institution. However, it would be naïve to say that this entirely removed the Christian undertones of Victoria’s student life.

From its inception as a college, Vic saw Christian values and lectures on theology mixed into students’ liberal arts studies, with many Victoria grads entering the ministry themselves. Each of the first principals and presidents had been affiliated with the Methodist Episcopal Church in some capacity, and most of them were ordained as ministers. Even into the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, this student–minister–administrator pipeline held true for Samuel Nelles, Nathanael Burwash, Richard P. Bowles, Edward W. Wallace, and Northrop Frye. As recently as 1992 to 1998, Sang Chul Lee held the Chancellorship of Victoria College. An advocate for oppressed groups in the Church, Lee was the thirtysecond Moderator of the United Church of Canada.

Grace before meals, the celebration of exclusively Christian holidays, and the sentiment of faculty and students alike continued institutional Christian ties throughout most of the twentieth century.

Today, the influence of the United Church at Victoria is at an all-time low. Emmanuel College now teaches a wide variety of theology, ranging from Islamic to Buddhist, Hindu, and Indigenous belief systems; fewer administrators than ever have ties to the United Church. In 2008, the United Church archives were finally separated from the Victoria University archives, which had been housed together since their origins. However, 13 of the 37 appointees of the Board of Regents remain members of the United Church of Canada, and an annual $200,000 grant from the Church has been given to Vic as late as 2019.

While we may no longer share the same values or perspectives as Albert Carman or Egerton Ryerson, Victoria’s history of adversity and religious prominence provides a more holistic view of the Vic we know today. As said by Vic and Emmanuel alumnus, United Church minister, Principal, and Chancellor Northrop Frye: “Victoria has a heritage and that heritage is not a buried treasure or a transmitted secret, but an experience renewed by everyone who comes in contact with it.”

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | JESS NASH SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

Choosing your program of study Experiences and advice from upper-year students in STEM PHOTO | HANA NIKCEVIC

JESS NASH SCIENCE EDITOR

As we approach the end of the school year, firstyear Arts & Science students are beginning to think about an important upcoming decision: their Program of Study, or POSt. Majors, minors, specialists; open and limited enrolment; collaborative life sciences programs—the system can seem overwhelming, but UofT is there to help.

The Sidney Smith Commons website provides a comprehensive guide to program applications, and your college registrar can give personal guidance if needed.

Program application itself is a fairly simple process, but the preliminary step is the most important and often the hardest part: figuring out what subject area you intend to study. How do you find the program that’s right for you? What if you aren’t sure, or decide to change your major?

Three upper-year STEM students shared their experiences with choosing and changing their POSts, their favourite things about their programs, and their advice for first-year students.

Choosing a program Sarit Radak, who intends to pursue a PhD and a research career in biotech, is a Molecular Genetics & Microbiology specialist. He chose this specialist because he “wanted a program with small class sizes that would also give [him] access to research opportunities.”

Tessa Ng is a Physics & Philosophy specialist with minors in Mathematics and History & Philosophy of Science and Technology (HPS), and wants to research and teach philosophy of science in the future. She said that she chose this program “based on what [she] knew [she] was good at … to play to [her] strengths,” and for the freedom to “explore as many different disciplines as [she wanted] in undergrad.”

Rhea Khurana is a Molecular Genetics & Microbiology and Global Health double major who is interested in pursuing a master’s degree and going into genetic counselling. “I considered research and classes I found interesting during high school. I also kept in mind the career options available with the major,” said Khurana. “Since I was unsure of my ‘ideal job’ out of university, I picked a major with flexibility and that matched my personal goals.”

Making degree changes Many students come into UofT knowing just what they want to study—some, like Radak, stick to their original plan, whereas others find their choices evolving as university progresses.

Ng initially intended to study life sciences, but decided instead to pursue a Physics & Philosophy specialist with minors in Mathematics and HPS. “I realized early on in first year that I had much more of an inclination towards physics and maths,” she said. “Luckily, there are a handful of overlapping course requirements between first-year life sci[ence] and first-year phys-math, so I wasn’t too far behind when I chose to apply to a physics POSt.” Changing your program later in your degree, beyond first year, is also normal. Khurana started out with a Neuroscience major in place of Global

Health, but changed it at the end of second year because she “wanted more variety in [her] courses.”

“The POSt application can be stressful because it feels like you’re deciding the trajectory of the rest of your academic life,” commented Ng. “[But] your decisions aren’t final; you can always switch programs and add or drop POSts if things aren’t working out as you planned.”

Highlights of certain programs Department faculty are important parts of any program. UofT’s faculty members are not just academically outstanding, but also are often highly engaged with students. Radak’s favourite thing about his program is Professor William Navarre, the Associate Undergraduate Coordinator of the Molecular Genetics & Microbiology program.

The specialist-only research class MGY280, instructed by Professor Navarre, “taught [Radak] how research actually happens in the modern day, which has been incredibly useful as I assess my career options.” Radak added that Navarre “[helps] undergrads with questions about course selection and other administrative tasks. He is incredibly friendly and helpful.”

Customizing your degree to integrate different perspectives on a subject can be greatly rewarding, and the Faculty of Arts & Sciences allows students to combine programs and courses from a wide range of disciplines. Khurana’s favourite thing about her program is that it provides a “balance between learning about health on a socio-economic and molecular level.”

Ng similarly appreciates the “interdisciplinary nature” of the Physics & Philosophy joint specialist, explaining that “it gave me the opportunity to discover niches of my field of study I didn’t know existed,” and that she appreciated the opportunity to “personalize [her] degree.”

UofT’s interdisciplinary nature also has an

important social aspect. Ng’s Mathematics minor has also allowed her to “[meet] students from countless different fields of study” and “make new friends from different programs instead of only meeting those within my own.”

Advice for first-year students applying to POSts Ng says that first-year science students should “choose programs that allow them to flourish and avoid overly-specific disciplines that would stifle them, unless they are absolutely sure of what they want to do.” She further advises first-years to “research well into the course requirements for POSts you’re considering and think about whether you’d be happy learning about those subjects for the next 3+ years.”

“Establish your priorities and goals—then choose a major that matches those and that you’ll enjoy,” said Khurana, adding that “you have lots of time to shadow and speak to professionals at UofT.” Finally, Radak offers a piece of practical advice, suggesting that students audit upper-year classes in a prospective subject area. This could mean sitting in on in-person classes, or reaching out to lecturers for Zoom links. “It’s the easiest way to figure out if the program will teach you the things that you want to learn,” Radak said.

First year is a time of change, learning, and growth. Though some students find a clear calling from the start, there is often more than one “right choice,” and the best paths are often found through trial and error. Between the program selection resources provided by UofT and the perspectives of these upper-year students, you should be wellequipped to make your POSt choices and make the most out of your degree. Good luck, and remember: you’re the only one who knows what’s best for yourself.

SCIENCE 11

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 15 FEBRUARY 2022

A tale of two studies The duality of STEAM degrees ALBERT CHENG STAFF WRITER

As program enrollment approaches, many students will be looking forward to finally being able to apply to their desired Program of Study (POSt). For many, the choice will lay between a specialist or a double major and much time will be spent considering and cross-examining the benefits of a particular combination of studies compared to another.

There is a plethora of complementary pairings of POSts where each enhances the other—economics and international relations; biochemistry and pharmacology; and criminology and sociology, just to name a few! The diplomas that arise from the aforementioned couples, however, are similar in that the graduating student is awarded either an Honours Bachelor of Arts or of Science.

But as the growing value of interdisciplinary study is being recognized, some have elected to reach across the metaphorical lines in the sand, taking on POSts that require them to run from Lash Miller Chemical Laboratories to Carr Hall in one afternoon. Three students pursuing a degree that involves both Arts and Science were interviewed with the hope that their summarized experiences may help guide some in their program selection this year (names have been changed for anonymity).

Rachel, Lukas, and Anna all shared the conviction that pursuing a dual degree offered an avenue to study the world from a holistic perspective, asking not only how the world works but also why it does so. For some, such as Rachel, a third-year Peace, Conflict, and Justice and Neuroscience double major, their interdisciplinary studies have been motivated by practical motives of increased flexibility and the ability to carve out a unique niche. “[My degree] has opened doors for me and afforded some flexibility if I want to change my career path. Right now, I am planning on entering law school, but if I decide otherwise, I have the option of applying to grad schools in either life science or social science without being restrained by my undergrad. I plan on spending a lot of my time in my adult life committed to a single field and I would be able to do so without regret, knowing that I was able to experience both sides in my undergrad.”

A critical aspect of university is the oncein-a-lifetime opportunity to be exposed to such a diverse community of individuals brought together in the common pursuit of higher education. To interact and engage with this dynamic network involves exposure to differing perspectives, something that was greatly amplified for Lukas, who says: “It’s

really refreshing to have different classes, and they can intersect in cool ways you wouldn’t expect. For one of my [Peace, Conflict, and Justice] courses, I was paired up to work with an environmental non-governmental organization—a perfect placement to complement my Environmental Studies major!”

The nature of studying two programs in disparate fields can, however, produce a heavier course load than expected. To this end, Anna, a Global Health specialist and Anthropology major, says: “There have definitely been inconveniences, such as booking classes with time conflicts, which is definitely a possibility if they’re in two completely different programs.

Sometimes, you just have to delay taking a course. In addition, depending on which field you start with, transitioning into your other program can be jarring. I started in STEM and the sheer number of readings in social science proved a massive learning curve.”

In the end, whatever programs you choose to study, it would be worthwhile to remember that you are far more than words on a diploma.

Opportunities are not limited to individual departments and there are definite pros and cons to both diversifying or concentrating your education.

PHOTO | COTTONBRO

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

The illusion of individuality On abolishing the rampant culture of gatekeeping ILLUSTRATION | AIDA JAVAN

JANNA ABBAS ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

“Guys, we have to gatekeep this song,” “OMG, don’t let the normies find this one,” and “you may listen to [insert niche artist here], but I actually listen to them in a cooler way” are all sentiments that you will hear at some point on the internet. Though gatekeeping has arguably always been a thing, it appears that over the last couple of years, a sort of gatekeeping culture has cemented itself not only in various internet communities, but also in real life. From being asked to name ten songs by the band on your shirt to being given false information (if not outright lied to) when you ask for the name of a song by a so-called “niche indie artist,” it seems as though everyone is pulling out the pitchforks and fighting hard to prove that actually, they’re the coolest, most intellectual, most based person out there… but why?

In “A Series of Articles on Russian Literature,” Dostoyevsky writes that the “need to affirm oneself, to stand out, is a law of nature for every individual; it is his right, his essence, the law of his being.” He goes on to say that this need “in the crude unstructured state of society manifests itself in the individual quite crudely and even savagely.” Not to be a pessimist, but I would say that the state of our society is very much crude and unstructured, and that individuals’ responses are (perhaps justifiably so) becoming increasingly hostile and cruel. Look at TikTok, a platform that, in my opinion, has been the breeding ground for this surge in gatekeeping culture. Everyone is trying to gatekeep something or other on the app, to the point of ridiculousness. It’s so funny to me when I see people on TikTok trying to gatekeep artists like Lana Del Rey, crying and stomping their feet because one of her unreleased songs has gone viral—I’m sorry, but what do you mean you want to gatekeep a six-time Grammy nominee who gets an average of 22 million streams per month? And who does this even serve?

After much contemplation (and adding all of these “gatekept” artists to my playlist in an effort to piss off the people who gatekeep them), I can say that I understand where these people are coming from. We are all inherently unable to achieve what Dostoyevsky

calls a human need because of the capitalist society we live in. Though my inner nature tells me that, to express my individuality, I should drop everything, move to a cottage in the woods, and spend the rest of my life writing and baking, I simply cannot do that because of the nature of the society we live in. Add to that the ever-suffocating weight of the patriarchy and it seems totally natural that people would turn to things like gatekeeping to try to find some semblance, some illusion of individuality. The worse our society gets, the more extreme our responses to it become, until we’ve managed to separate ourselves from each other in an attempt to compensate for what we are not with a false sense of superiority.

I think we often forget that the goal of the regimes that oppress and suppress us is precisely to keep us isolated from each other. Not only that, but also to make us crave this isolation, to view it as standing out. You can try as hard as you want to claim that Phoebe Bridgers belongs to a specific group of people, or that no one “gets” Fiona Apple like you do, but I doubt you’ll ever reach the level of self-fulfillment and perception that you truly desire. And if you have to rely primarily on withholding what are, at the end of the day, mediums of entertainment for your personality, then frankly, you need to develop a better personality.

There are thousands if not millions of people claiming the same things you are, and asserting their right to gatekeep these same interests. So, who’s right? Not to sound like a guy trying to mansplain why we can’t simply print more money, but if everyone is special and everyone stands out, then no one is special and we are all practically the same.

Instead of being dismayed about this, I say let’s revel in it. Share your hobbies and favourite things with the people around you, find common ground and joy in doing that, and relish the fact that you’ve found someone who enjoys the same things you do, or at the very least is intrigued enough to give them a try. I promise you, it is in sharing your oh-so-based interests with the community around you that you’ll learn more about yourself and find a true sense of individuality, one that can’t be dismantled by your favorite underground artist becoming mainstream.

On this note, the Arts and Culture section is taking a step towards abolishing gatekeeping culture by sharing with you some very cool, unique, and underrated songs on this issue’s playlist. We hope that you’ll listen to it while dismantling your own gatekeeping habits.

Issue 11 Playlist: Do You Love Me? - Hector Jenkins The River is a Folk Song - Postfun Everything She Touches is Gold - Said The Whale Upon the Horizon - Villages Waking Up - Hillsburn Caribbean blue - Enya Vitamin T - KERA Song to the Siren-Take 7 - Tim Buckley Be Sweet - Japanese Breakfast Saturdays - Twin Shadow, HAIM

ILLUSTRATION | SEAVEY VAN WALSUM

ARTS AND CULTURE 13

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 15 MARCH 2022

How to Fix Radios, a year later An interview with director Casper Leonard RION LEVY ASSOCIATE ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

The Strand reviewed How to Fix Radios when it first premiered at the Kingston Canadian Film Festival (KFCC) last March. The Strand had the privilege of sitting down with one of the codirectors, Casper Leonard, to discuss the film one year later.

Rion Levy: Looking back on the project, how has the reception been?

Casper Leonard: I think that we got a lot of really good feedback. I was really appreciative that a lot of people could sense the genuine interest and energy that we had towards the project. And that's one thing I was worried about; I wasn't necessarily worried [that] before it came out … we wouldn't get good reviews or something, I didn't really care. What I cared about is that I wanted people to see that we were doing this, out of the bottom of our souls, and that this really mattered to us. And it mattered to our community.

This was your first feature film, right?

How was that experience?

It was really difficult. It was hard to keep our expectations at a certain level, because we'd have some days we're working on [the film] and we're like, this is the best thing ever. We're going to get this put in Sundance or something.

And then there would be days where you'd be working on it and be like, this is actual shit.

Managing the expectations was hard. And then the process itself was really long, difficult. We did want some payoff; we wanted it to work out. And that could be a little stressful because once we started putting so much time and effort into it, it just kind of accumulated, and our expectations grew for what we needed it to look like. So there was a lot of time spent in the editing room tweaking things to the best of our abilities.

What was your experience working with co-director Emily Russel?

When we were working together on ideas and shots it was perfect, absolutely amazing. We worked really well together creatively. We were on the same level. We kind of built it from the ground up together. So there wasn't really any part of it that was like one of us or the other, because it was just such a combined effort that we couldn't separate it from either one of us.

So, it felt like a genuine, almost co-parenting relationship for this movie.

Did you go into the COVID-19 summer knowing you would work on the film?

We started writing the script in January, and we finished it in March. And then the pandemic happened. And we basically forgot about it, or at least put it on the back burner ... what ended up happening is that we were like, oh, I don't think we can do this just because of the pandemic— not being able to get access to equipment and stuff like that. But eventually, around the end of May, we were going down to the quarry [where] we filmed, and we were hanging around there, sort of seeing what it looked like now because that's where we had wanted to shoot. And it kind of inspired us. So we decided on that day, fuck it, we're doing it. And we sen[t] out our emails to the cast and crew and got everyone together.

Did you know everyone you wanted to work with right away?

I definitely had ideas in my head about casting and what would work best. And the people that we ended up casting were our top picks. It ended up working out great.

I think it's something that probably continues throughout everyone's lives past their teenage years. And it’s sort of something that I actually had realized while making the film.

It wasn't in the script. It was a last-minute decision that I didn't even tell anyone about.

I just wrote it in there because I thought it was important to put a bookend to my experience and how I felt about the film and my life in general, leading up to that point. Looking back on it, I think it still holds up to be true. As a queer youth, you're told a lot, things are going to get better, which is true, but it also leads to some unrealistic expectations about how good your life is going to be past a certain point. In reality, it's way more of a roller coaster of ups and downs. So, it's not always getting better. It's just changing.

Shifting gears slightly, are there any projects that you’re currently working on?

I'm at York. I'm just working on school projects and stuff like that. I have a short film I'm going to be shooting in a month, but it's nothing that will be very public or anything like that.

How do you hope that How to Fix Radios will fit in with the rest of your career moving forward?

I hope that it sort of sets out the tone for what both [Emily and I] want our films to be, which is just real. Just completely raw from the bottom of our hearts. We’re not trying to impress anyone, we're not trying to show off, we're just trying to tell a story that is important to us. I think … that's what I want to convey through the rest of any other films I make, or any other creative projects I work on … I just want to be raw and real.

At the very end of the film, the words “if things don’t get better, at least they change” runs across the screen. Do you think this tragically optimistic tone to end on is a How to Fix Radios is now available for free universal sentiment? on YouTube.

PHOTO | HOW TO FIX RADIOS

14 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

Going back to 505 A liminal space for Arctic Monkeys BARBARA ATHANASOULAS CONTRIBUTOR

My humble opinion, for the reader’s consideration, is that it is time to abandon the goal of “not taking things too seriously” when it comes to the art we love.

I absolutely revel in taking myself and my interests just a little too seriously; if I don’t do it, who will?

Whether that means treating One Direction like our generation’s The Beatles or letting Taylor Swift evolve in the cultural consciousness from an endlessly upbeat pop princess to the mature, poetic voice that gave us Folklore and Evermore, I take my pop culture interests and treat them as I do my love for certain works of classic literature or Golden Age Hollywood films.

This new perspective of mine began with Arctic Monkeys. Many will be familiar with them from TikTok’s recent resurgence of the “2014 Tumblr alt-aesthetic.” Their 2013 album AM provided a series of anthems for teens who “weren’t like other girls.” The band’s appeal has straddled across various demographics for the length of their career, finding an audience in school-age kids, their dad-rock-loving fathers, and their token “cool aunt” who saw Queen at Live Aid. Arctic Monkeys’ body of work is settling-in with a sort of endurance considered comparable to The Beatles; they are musicians taken seriously by critics and fans alike. Their music is not brought down by its mass appeal or made inaccessible by pretension. Their success is attributable to many factors, including their achievements in lyricism which have proven nothing short of poetic. Still, anything short of literal poetry does not usually get the attention and analysis reserved for 400-level English Literature seminars. If we

treated every song on the radio with deference similar to classic poetry, would we have a deeper appreciation for the music of our time without waiting for the lens of nostalgia?

Their second album, Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007), contains a song called “505.” The first time I listened to this song, I had no idea what it was about.

I understood every word, saw the visuals in my head, but it bothered me. I felt that I wasn’t “getting it,” despite loving the music. I felt similarly about the band in general, trying to figure out what about their music stood out to me so much that I had their albums on repeat for weeks.

The speaker wants to go back to 505, (which, in the literal sense, is usually interpreted to be a hotel room) where the object of his affection is waiting.

505 is more than a physical space; it is a place in time that serves as a symbol of the speaker’s devastation.

A crystalized memory shattered by the reality that followed. The speaker knows from the start that every return to 505 will end the same way, but he goes anyway, and takes his listeners along to a state of being between a promising before and a corrupted after.

Once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye, the speaker mourns; the very moment the speaker crosses into 505, it falls apart. He occupies that space between going back to what he wants and losing it again throughout the piece. The repeating choruses communicate the cyclical nature of his relationship to 505, and impart to the listener his desire to return to and remain on the threshold of this memory before he crumbles with it. The song “505” is so captivating because of its liminality, of the way the speaker is stuck in an ever-repeating loop of time, participating in the motions gladly every time the adventure begins again.

I return to this song because I love its cyclical nature, the same way the speaker is completely unashamed of his fixation and the lengths he’s willing to go to get back to 505, if it’s a seven hour flight or a 45-minute drive. His sincere obsession with 505 leaves the listener craving an explanation. We want to know why: why he would adore his darling, even with their hands around his neck; why he’s not only willing but desperate to go back, despite the knife twists and frightening bite. I love the feeling of peering over his shoulder, of being on the precipice of a disastrous series of events. It’s like reading a tragedy for the tenth time, knowing that the closest you can get to a happy ending is starting the play again and hoping the catharsis pays off.

Arctic Monkeys’ broad appeal comes from their ability to strike a balance between their distinctive alt-rock riffs and lyricism that is simultaneously accessible and genius. They take themselves and their music seriously, and so should we. To the speaker, his return to 505 is the single most important thing in the world, at least for the four minutes and thirteen seconds of the song. The desired liminal moment in his memory can reconcile the tragedy that comes afterwards with whatever tantalising hope existed before. In its musical and lyrical styling, “505” does for its listeners what Arctic Monkeys does in the music industry. They create a liminal space, where they can exist with their music and their listeners. In “505,” that space is a haunting memory of anticipation— before ruination. In the broader world of music, they create a space in which they can exist on the threshold between so many demographics of music-lovers.

ILLUSTRATION | NATALIE SONG

STRANDED 15

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 15 MARCH 2022

Ask Saucy Suzy: How do I kiss Only YOU can replenish the world’s lack of PRANKS! without tongue?

Freebie Prank Ideas

SAUCY SUZY COLUMNIST

ILLUSTRATION | SHELLEY YAO HELEN HO & DAVIDE SALLESE STAFF WRITERS

The worst thing going on with the world today is the dearth of pranksters. We have resolved to help put pranking back on the menu. Check out our list of pranks below, and remember to live every day like it’s April Fools Day—get CRANKING on the PRANKING!

and find a good hiding spot.

Step 3. Find a friend. (This is harder than it looks!)

Step 4. When you are out with your friend, say to them “I bet you a hundred dollars that the next man we see will have a mouth full of glue.” Your friend will be sure to take you up on this offer (what a chump!).

Step 5. Have your man come out of the hiding spot… and open his mouth!

The look on their face will SEAL the DEAL!

The Babysitter’s Flub This prank on an au-pair is oh-soAWESOME!: Step 1. Be without a baby.

Step 2. Hire a SUPER HOT babysitter!

The Jokester’s Jackpot Step 3. When she shows up, reveal there is The MAX number of laughs this lottery no baby for her to take care of! themed prank could give you? About 649! You’ll This prank will have her saying, “Oh be begging for an ENCORE!: BABY—what a crazy b*tch!”

Step 1. Change your name to Charity.

Step 2. Win the lottery.

Prankin’ Au Naturel Step 3. When they ask you if you want cash The NAKED truth about this prank is that it or cheque, say, “I’d like it made out to charity.” is so funny it should be ILLEGAL: They will then say, “Oh that’s so generous of Step 1. Paint your clothes to look like your you, Mr… What’s your name?” To which you nude body. must reply, “Uh, Charity!”

Step 2. Go to a public place.

The look on their faces will be RICH! But Step 3. When a cop comes to book you not as rich as you, rockstar! for public indecency, say “ah-ah-ah—these are my CLOTHES!” No Biggie This will have them saying: “I’ve heard of This LEVIATHAN of a prank is sure a birthday suit, but never a birthday shirt, to give you RIDE WARRIORS out there a pants, socks, and underwear!!!”

BEHEMOTH of a laugh: Step 1. Be small.

Elmer’s Folly Step 2. Wear stilts.

STICK to this prank’s simple steps and a Step 3. Go to Canada’s Wonderland and chuckle is guaranteed… and you might just score get on a ride you are usually too short for. some moola in the process: The look on the ride attendant’s face as you Step 1. Hire a man. A large mouth is hurtle off the roller coaster you are too small preferred. to be on will be ASTONISHING! Step 2. Have him fill his mouth with glue

Dear Saucy Suzy, Have you ever kissed without tongue? My girlfriend told me that she loves the way I kiss, only she wishes that I didn’t use so much of the old pink fish. In fact, she’s asked me to try cutting the waggly guy out of the equation entirely!

That’s right: she wants it close mouthed and puckered, like making out with your grandpapi.

But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to keep that little guy inside! He wants to taste the world. When I try to resist my natural urges, my tongue just ends up shooting out of my butthole lips like a lizard. Because that’s the only way I like it. If I wanted to kiss like I was a character on Disney Channel, then I wouldn’t have blown that audition, now would I? I wouldn’t have jumped the casting director in the parking lot and stolen the keys to his Honda Civic, either.

Last time I tried to lick my girlfriend clean, it was after we came home from the park. She clawed at my face with her nails. I retaliated by biting her hand. She fought back with a gunshot to my upper left thigh. The gauze is bleeding through as we speak. I know every couple has spats, but this one felt different. I like a good foreplay pistol whip as much as the next guy, but a bullet to the thigh? It was my favourite thigh and everything. Next time she tries something, I’m gonna have to one-up her with a hand grenade. Tik. Tok. I reallyyyy need to figure out how to keep my moist digit in his pink happy hole. Any tips and tricks would be tight.

Peace, Tasty Tongue in Tampa Dear Tasty Tongue, I think what you need to do is find another outlet for your licking leisure. Like, what if you invested in a lifetime supply of Drumstick ice cream? You know the kind, crunchy on the outside, soft vanilla on the inside? Ooo or you could learn how to do tongue tricks! Like the kind where you make shapes, like waves and stars and stuff? There’s this guy with a tip jar who stands out by the pier. He can turn his tongue into the Seven Wonders of the World.

Tire out your muscles with some basic tongue exercises and conditioning. You could learn how to tie a cherry stem with your tongue. I can do it, and it’s, like, a total crowd-pleaser.

Some tongue is good, but you don’t want to be the dreaded washing machine guy!! Trust me, you’ll get dumped faster than I can throw my neighbour’s laundry on the floor when she hogs the machine. Selfish biatch.

I hope these tips help, and remember, above all else…

Stay Saucy, Suzy <3

16 STRANDED

EDITOR | VICTORIA MCINTYRE STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

How to distract people from your shocking misunderstanding of basic geography It’s just me and the GPS lady against the big bad world woof woof VICTORIA MCINTYRE STRANDED EDITOR

Here’s the thing. I don’t know where I am. Ever. I don’t know the name of any street that’s more than one street away from my own. Because I don’t know where I live.

I have my daily routes memorized, but without them, I’m adrift in a sea of confusion—the cars are sharks and the people are grizzled sea captains. I’m on a lifeboat and it looks a lot like my cellphone when it’s opened to the Google Maps app. Help. Me. See, the thing is, no one can. Not really. I figured that out a long time ago. About the same time that I farted during circle time and the girl in front of me turned around and pointed so that everyone would know who’d made the stench. Yeah. I don’t trust anybody. Nobody except the lady inside of my GPS. Where you lead, I will follow, baby.

So here’s how I hide the truth from the world.

Rule #1: I don’t talk about it. Ever. Not if I can help it. Someone asks me for directions? Can’t help you. I’ve never been. Oh, you’re asking me how to get to my house? Sorry, I’ve never been. Not in the waking hours. I sleepwalk in and out of that door every day like some kind of chronically ill nocturnal rodent. My front door has a hole the size of a human woman from the time I gnawed my way out. After that, I spat out wood chips for a week. One guy on the bus thought it was a tobacco can and he tried to get in on it. I belched woodchips in his face and he coughed on the spray.

Rule #2: I cry every time I pee. See what I did there? I told you a personal detail that was just disturbing enough to distract you from your question.

And even if you can remember what you wanted to ask me about the shape of our northern nation, you’re sure as hell questioning the usefulness of it now. Who wants to talk about landmarks with someone who can’t get through a conversation without dishing disastrous deets? Not me. I don’t have time for that kind of hogwash.

Rule #3: If you’re forced into map talk with some geography-obsessed freak, ask them to point out a lighthouse, a sweet, angelic guide: the nearest fast food restaurant. Because… otherwise? I got nothing. Zero. Zilch. Goose egg. If you can’t explain the location to me in proximity to the closest McDonalds, then I’m out of commission. Please respect that, I whisper. Please respect me.

If the universe is beyond human comprehension, why does life here on Earth look so normal?

And other questions that will make you go, “Wow! They’ll print just about anything these days.”

SARAH BURNS CONTRIBUTOR

Universe:

It does not sit right with me that the universe is like this massive amalgamation of fire balls and orbs spinning around each other in the expanse of atmosphere and “solar wind” (?), yet our day to day life is uhhh pretty basic? In a billion years or so, our galaxy is going to get swallowed up by another galaxy. At least, this is what the scientists tell us. If this is a true thing that goes on in the universe, then why does life on Earth look so fucking normal?

PHOTO | UNSPLASH, JEREMY THOMAS

Earth:

PHOTO | PIXABABY, AJAY KHADKA

Writing this article:

The last baby carrot from when I ate some b a b y carrots:

PHOTO | UNSPLASH, @EBERHARDGROSS

For instance, this is how the universe looks from Earth: Doggy PHOTO | PIXABABY, 3194556

That’s actually kind of embarrassing for us!

The universe as a whole, no matter when Now this is what a “cosmic hot spot” looks it’s pictured, what angle, looks just fucking like: PHOTO | MARK GARLICK immaculate and surreal. But sometimes here on Earth colours clash or things look a bit off or people put up buildings that probably should've stayed in the drawing books. In Toronto, there are about six months where photographers kinda just go on break.

This is how today looked for me: The snow I pass everyday:

Family Youtube channel:

Scrolling Twitter for a few hours: PHOTO | YOUTUBE, ACE FAMILY

Extremely confusing. There are black holes up there, and down here there are libraries you can go to. If Earth is a part of the universe, but looks entirely different from it, then the only explanation I can possibly imagine is that Earth and us humans really are special. So there must be another reason. Also, no offense to God's green Earth or anything, because Earth is genuinely gorgeous. Especially no offence to places like Hawaii or the Maldives. But there is a discrepancy here. Maybe, I am overthinking, but while I’m at it, why does anything look the way it does? Seriously. Like why do we have feet??

Anyway.