The Strand | Volume 61, Issue 3

the

STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 61, ISSUE 3 | 2 OCTOBER 2018

The Qipao disconnect opinions | page 4

In conversation with Devon Welsh arts and culture | page 12

Filling in the blanks

opinions | page 6

02 NEWS

EDITOR | ROBIN DINESHKUMAR NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

Student entrepreneurship alive and thriving at UofT jiawen chen contributor

Student entrepreneurs at UofT are making their mark. From Leila Keshavjee’s popsicle business Happy Pops landing a deal on CBC’s hit show Dragon’s Den to Genecis, a company using biotechnology to turn food waste into high-quality bioplastic, startups at UofT are ready to tackle anarray of markets and problems.

The University of Toronto is renowned for its robust programs aiding entrepreneurs. Its incubators and accelerators—organizations that help small startups grow by providing low-cost office space, managerial training, and other aid—are among the top five university-managed incubators and accelerators in the world according to UBI Global’s 2017 to 2018 World Benchmark Study.

These incubators and accelerators are incredibly valuable resources to student entrepreneurs. One such organization is The Hatchery within the Faculty of Applied Science and Engineering, which has helped launch over 67 startups with its NEST program since launching in 2012. Its Launch Lab offers support for research-based graduate and faculty-led startups.

In The Hatchery’s NEST program, successful applicants spend the summer engaged in tasks such as creating business models, familiarizing themselves with a cash-flow runway, and practicing pitching with various mentors. The program culminates with Demo Day in early September, when applicants pitch their companies to a panel of entrepreneurs, investors, and mentors.

Genecis, a biotechnology startup, won the first-place 20,000 dollar Lacavera prize last September. Genecis’ found-

er and CEO Luna Yu completed both her HBSc and MEncSc at UofT and founded the company in October 2016 with the goal of converting “low value waste into high value materials.” The company is currently “commercializing its first product line—PHA biodegradable plastics,” a type of bioplastic produced using bacteria, says Yu. “The team grew from one to eight full-time, award-winning scientists and engineers, with seven part-time interns,” adds Yu. “Over the next two years, the team will scale the process up to Demonstration Plant productions and build a synthetic biology platform. The SynBio platform will allow Genecis to create new bacteria at rapid speeds, making better PHAs and materials of higher value used in cosmetics, pharmaceutical, and nano-materials industries.”

Entrepreneurship does not come without setbacks, however. The team at Genecis faced many, but “was able to work cohesively to turn each disaster into an opportunity.”

This year’s 20,000 dollar winner on Demo Day, Grid, is another company to watch out for. Grid aims to make parking easier by using wide-angle cameras to detect and broadcast information about available parking spaces in real time.

Pilot testing begins next month.

The Hatchery’s other events include its Speaker Series, through which it hosts guests offering entrepreneurial stories and advice.

Other speakers, events, competitions, and clubs across UofT aim to inspire and aid aspiring student entrepreneurs as well. The Rotman Commerce Entrepreneurship Organization (RCEO), for example, hosts several events throughout the year to “connect passionate students with local startups who needed helping hands,” says the club’s president, Frank Zhang. Jumpstart, a networking event hosted by RCEO,

“aims [to connect] students with the local entrepreneurship community” and has received “incredibly positive feedback” according to Zhang, who reports that many attendees were offered summer opportunities with the startups they met at the event. Zhang stresses RCEO’s philosophy to “approach networking like making friends and fostering that genuine one-on-one connection with the incredibly supportive community of innovators we have around us” as a factor that helped make the event such a success.

RCEO also hosts a handful of case competitions, as well as a pitch competition with a monetary prize for seed funding.

Being in an environment with like-minded people who have experience starting ventures means that members are “all able to help each other out with different challenges that come up.” The supportive environment allows them to “help other students who are keen to start their own venture and even help early-stage startups figure out their go-to market strategy.”

“We have been very fortunate to be able to attract some really keen go-getters,” says Zhang. He remarks that many RCEO team members “have ventures of [their] own that [they’re] trying to grow on the side, whether it’s a studentservice startup or a personalized card company.” In fact, a past member was “so keen on starting his own business that he took a year off school to pursue that.”

Alongside UofT’s nine incubators, accelerators, student groups, and other organizations, over 80 courses and programs across all three campuses and several faculties are also available to guide student entrepreneurs toward achieving their goals.

Lack of affordable housing in Toronto kathy du staff writer

Nationally, Toronto often ranks as either the first or second most expensive city to rent in, and globally it is ranked 21 out of 293 cities according to the Demographia International Housing Affordability Survey.

Over 47 percent of renters in Toronto are spending more than 30 percent of their income on rent, in part due to the assumption that an individual is expected to earn at least 40,583 dollars a year in order to afford to live in this city.

In addition to often being unable to work enough hours to even come close to earning 40,000 dollars a year, students also have to bear the financial weight of tuition, textbooks, and other living expenses. Furthermore, even those students who have the financial means to afford living downtown often have difficulty finding a place. Those familiar with searching for housing know the importance of timing and luck; there are often multiple candidates competing for the same unit, and being just an hour late can make the difference in securing a place to live.

As a result, many students in Toronto have no other choice but to commute. A survey done by StudentsMoveTO found that a third of respondents spent two or more hours per day commuting. Students with longer commute times were more likely to pick courses based on their commute and less likely to be involved in extracurricular activities. The unreliability of public transportation, long hours, lack of choice, and lack of involvement on campus takes a toll on the mental health, university experience, and grades of many commuters.

While living on residence is very convenient and is guaranteed to all first-years, it comes at quite a cost. A double bedroom in Margaret Addison Hall is 8,593 dollars, in addition to a mandatory meal plan that costs around 5000 dollars. Students who live too

far to commute but cannot afford to live on residence often have to make difficult choices. Many students must obtain part time jobs that take away from time studying, extracurricular activities, and socializing with friends. As well, many have to choose between saving money or living in a safe area, which is especially al risk for women and LGBTQ+ students.

“While I do save money by commuting, it often feels unfair because I lose a lot of time that could be otherwise spent in labs or doing homework that gets lost to transit,” says Gloria Rebello, a third year student who lives in Scarborough.

There are several causes that lead to the high cost of rent in Toronto, some common among all metropolitan cities, while others more unique to Toronto itself. Compared to less populated areas, Toronto has better public transit and homes which are closer in proximity to many goods, services, and jobs. In addition, foreign investors frequently drive up the cost of rent by flipping properties and locals are often unable to compete with these wealthy investors from foreign countries. While measures such as the Foreign Buyer’s Tax and Ontario’s Fair Housing Plan have been introduced, they have not made a significant impact.

Toronto, as Canada’s most regulated city, has longer approval times, and many of the city’s new developments are condos, which slows down the rate of new units getting completed.

John Tory, the current mayor of Toronto, aims to create 40,000 affordable rental units in the next 12 years. He promises to keep property taxes at or below current inflation rates in order to make it easier for young people to purchase new homes. As well, he plans on building on city lands that have been declared surplus, and providing incentives for developers to build on these lands in exchange for securing a percentage of affordable units in these new buildings.

Jennifer Keesmaat, one of Tory’s major competitors in the upcoming mayoral election, promises to create

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| hana nikcevic

100,000 affordable rental units in the next 10 years by developing a program to build housing on city owned lands beyond those labelled surplus, such as TTC stations and parking lots.

While there are varying opinions on both the causes of and solutions to Toronto’s housing crunch, what is inarguable is that this is a severe problem that will only get worse unless action is taken. However, students who feel lost and powerless in a cold market can still make their voices heard. It is important to do research, know your rights as tenants, and to vote in the upcoming October election in order to make the best-informed decision about your future.

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 2 OCTOBER 2018

ArtsVote Toronto hosts first mayoral debate Housing crisis and funding take centre stage at mayoral debate nicholas freer associate news editor

On September 24, ArtsVote Toronto—an advocacy group for arts and culture within the city—held a debate in the TIFF Bell Lightbox for candidates in the current municipal election. The debate contained two predetermined sections: the first was five questions asked by the moderator and the second was selected questions submitted on Twitter.

The debate began with Faith Goldy, the controversial and uninvited mayoral candidate, mounting the stage to demand her inclusion in the event. She paced the stage as the candidates remained seated, showing a petition signed, she claimed, by 5000 people. Some in the crowd supported Goldy; however, she was escorted off the stage by police. The moderator reiterated any disturbances would be dealt with in a similar way. Global News reported that any candidates who wanted inclusion in the debate had to have a defined arts policy and would not be considered otherwise. Goldy had no policy.

While the debate covered a range of arts and labour related issues, the thrust of the candidates’ answers circled around three main topics: promotion of the arts, funding, and affordability. How each candidate would promote artists and the arts locally, nationally, and internationally.

Sarah Climenhaga responded that “great artists exist [in Toronto], all we need to do is tell people about it” and highlighted the need for an “artistic base” that can afford housing in the city.

Saron Gebresellassi, a Toronto lawyer and social activist, noted cuts by the provincial government to funding for community arts efforts. Calling it a continual “fund-

ing crisis” she suggested that the city could increase its own funding compensate by appropriating a portion of the police budget.

Jennifer Keesmaat, former chief city planner, took the opportunity to criticize Mayor John Tory for the housing crisis and his SmartTrack plan. She explained she would build 100,000 affordable units by “unlocking city owned land.”

Gautam Nath stated: “we’ve done very little globally. We have a TIFF, we have Hot Docs but that’s it really,” saying we need to do more to reach “international markets.”

Later in the debate he suggested sending individual artists abroad would increase such interest.

Mayor John Tory claimed he had done a good job of promoting the arts but that more investment was needed to aid artists as well as working at increasing local awareness of the arts.

The topic returned to by the candidates most often was the city’s housing crisis. Keesmaat suggested Tory was to blame for not acting on the rising expenses of housing.

He retorted that his government has already provided the city, and would continue to provide, affordable housing such as “work lived spaces” built in Weston.

Saron Gebresellassi also took Tory to task, saying that affordable housing tied to market value rent was still unaffordable and that city council would have to take steps to create housing that is “truly affordable” for the underprivileged, the working class, and artists.

Nath found affordable housing to be of concern but decided instead to focus on transit.

In terms of funding, Tory stated that the he had either enacted or “provided a leadership role” in the development of several programs related to the arts. Part of this was the funding of Arts in the Park, an

What’s going on around campus this month?

I Am Rohingya: A Genocide in Four Acts Tuesday October 9, 6:30 pm George Ignatieff Theatre

initiative by the city which provides arts related events to public parks.

Climenhaga said that the city has failed to match the investments of its rivals, namely Montreal. The city currently invests 25 dollars per capita to artists; Climenhaga said this was not enough and that it was not a stretch to double the funding to 50 dollars.

Most other candidates agreed with Climenhaga. Tory defended himself, arguing that it was under his leadership that the 25 dollars per capita figure had been reached.

He said that further investment was necessary but could not be prioritized immediately. The only candidate to directly disagree with the doubled investment figure was Saron Gebresellassi who stated it should be tripled.

When the question of providing arts spaces to communities outside the downtown core was put forward, candidates generally agreed that new spaces were needed. However, the candidates were divided on the method of creating these spaces. Tory suggested unused civic centres across the city could be repurposed for the arts and that he would strive to increase the funding for such projects and the arts in general from all levels of government (that is, federal and provincial).

Keesmaat said the city had the funding available and the resources but lacked the political will under Tory. She said that she would, as mayor, seek to build new arts facilities away from the downtown core.

Gebresellassi focussed specifically on “neighbourhoods in progress” in which she claimed the city should be buying land and buildings to provide such spaces.

Finally, Nath and Climenhaga both emphasised the necessity of corporate involvement in such projects.

The film chronicles the journey of 14 refugee youth who take to the stage to re-enact their families’ harrowing experiences escaping military violence in their native homeland, Rakhine state and their eventual resettlement in the strikingly unfamiliar Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario. The film will be followed by a Q&A with the director and cast.

Indigenous Visual Culture and Culture Shifts present Angry Inuk Thursday October 4, 3:15 pm OCAD University In her award-winning documentary, Inuk director Alethea Arnaquq-Baril offers a close look at the critical role of seal hunting in Inuit culture and in sustainable economies. The film explores the aggressive and negative impacts of international campaigns to ban seal hunting.

The Bazaar of the Bizarre: Halloween 2018 Sunday October 7 at 11 to 8 pm 6 Noble Street A marketplace for all things dark, macabre, weird, interesting, whimsical, and alternative! The bazaar remains a true Bazaar of the Bizarre, open to the public with FREE admission, and showcasing a wide variety of independent artists, designers, and crafters.

Confabulation (TO) presents: Cringeworthy Wednesday October 3 at 7:30 to 9 pm Burdock, 1184 Bloor Street West Confabulation is an all-true storytelling series in Montreal, Toronto, and Victoria. #ConfabTO returns with stories of ews, yucks, and everything it between.

University College Book Sale Thursday October 11 to Sunday October 14 15 King’s College Circle, UC Library, 2nd floor of the Laidlaw Wing Since 1979, the UC Book Sale has offered hundreds of thousands of second-hand books at their annual sale and through the UC bookstore.

Proceeds go to students and the UC Library.

Falling for Vic: Back to School Pub Night Friday, October 5, 6 pm to 12 am Victoria College Quad The Scarlet and Gold Commission is hosting their first event of the year. Entrance is free and it is an all ages event. There will be free food and a bar with alcoholic and non-alcoholic refreshments for purchase. A wristband policy is in effect.

VCDS Submissions for UofT Drama Festival Deadline: October 9, 11:59 pm

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| eduardo lima

VCDS is accepting submissions for the UofT Drama Festival, which is a four-day showcase of previously unproduced, original one-act plays written and led by students. To submit your play for consideration, send a letter of intent and a draft of your play to artistic@VCDS.ca. Drafts, excerpts, and outlines are accepted in lieu of a complete script.

04 EDITORIAL

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF | AINSLEY DOELL AND SABRINA PAPAS EDITOR@THESTRAND.CA

Striving for equitable journalism

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We need to hold ourselves accountable

strand V O L U M E

editors-in-chief

editor@thestrand.ca

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ainsley doell sabrina papas

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opinions

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features

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rehana mushtaq, max nisbeth, emma paidra,

erica sung, rashana youtzy, meg zhang copy editors

mishail adeel, alyssa dibattista, arin klein,

michal leckie, max nisbeth design team jay bawar, sabrina papas illustrations

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eduardo lima, hana nikcevic, rashana youtzy cover illustration emily fu

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.

The Strand is a proud member of the Canadian University Press (CUP).

Our offices are located at 150 Charles St. W., Toronto, ON, M5S 1K9. Please direct enquiries by email to editor@thestrand.ca. Submissions are welcome and may be edited for taste, brevity, and legality.

FOLLOW US @STRANDPAPER WWW.THESTRAND.CA

Journalists have a responsibility to ensure that their reporting is both accurate and equitable. To fact check, you need to have diligence and a sharp eye; there is a clear right and wrong. To write and edit equitably, however, is significantly more complicated and just as important. At The Strand, although we strive to produce equitable reporting, we acknowledge that we will not always be correct. When we make a mistake, we need to ensure that we will be held accountable to adjust our practices. A large part of being accountable involves engaging our community as well as our fellow student journalists in an active discussion.

The heart of equitable reporting is listening to community members with lived experiences; about going to the source and seeking to represent these communities as they are. Reporting equitably means being mindful of the language and the rhetoric that we use to write about marginalized communities and ensuring that we are not misrepresenting them. It means taking the time to consider each story and recognizing that each one is unique.

Jacob Dubé, Editor-in-Chief of Ryerson University’s independent student newspaper The Eyeopener, says “equitable reporting means knowing that every story, especially those covering issues that involve marginalized groups, shouldn't be treated the exact same way.” Equitable reporting “means being willing to listen and learn at all times, while being aware of how stories can affect public perception of a community.” Dubé recognizes that being aware of the stereotypes and prejudices at play is essential for the active resistance of these ideas.

UofT’s The Varsity also points out that the spaces in which we create our work, along with our work itself, must be equitable. Equitable reporting expands far beyond the words that end up on the page; it begins as we decide what to cover, who we will consult, and the ways in which we conduct ourselves as we approach our work.

Recognizing these issues within the community of student journalism is not enough. As campus publications, we can and should always be striving for further inclusivity and equitable representation of marginalized communities. Inequitable journalism stems from ignorance, and our journalism as well as our internal practices must combat this.

In support of our commitment to producing equitable journalism, The Strand has undertaken the creation of an Equity Style Guide. We have done so under the guidance of equity-minded student groups, such as VicPride!, and members inside and beyond our immediate community.

Georgia Lin, our Opinions Editor and the VUSAC Equity Commissioner has been an integral part of this process and has enabled us to get this project off the ground. Our Equity Style Guide is by no means comprehensive; rather than a complete document, this guide is meant to be a dynamic and changing resource to be consulted by our writers, editors, and community members as we strive to make our publication as accessible and accurate as possible. In an attempt to create an ongoing dialogue, we have

published our guide online and created a feedback form.

We want your ideas on how we can do better, within the guide and within our publication.

Our inspiration for the creation of the Equity Style Guide came from our colleagues Sid Drmay and Sierra Bein at The Eyeopener. They encouraged us to implement measures to ensure that our team has the necessary resources to prioritize equity in our journalism and shared with us what they had compiled. Student journalists must help each other learn and support one another in the process.

The Eyeopener introduced annual equity training sessions three years ago, through which their staff is trained on how to cover stories related to different communities.

This specialized instruction speaks to the specific challenges that writers and editors may be faced with proactively, in a way that The Strand’s equity training perhaps does not.

Victoria College’s Equity Commission holds equity training for all of its levies (of which The Strand is included), but this training will not be specific to our needs as a publication, and will not happen until later this month, at which point we will have already produced four issues. We recognize that individualized equity training isn’t provided to levies like The Strand because of the emotionally draining nature of equity work on campus. The Varsity also recognizes the need for further opportunities for equity training for their masthead and staff. In the past, they have done equity training with UofT’s Anti-Racism and Cultural Diversity Office (ARCDO), but similarly see a need for more publication-specific resources. We must consider what we can be doing ourselves, rather than relying on other organizations to reach out to teach or regulate us. Equity training is a daunting task, as it’s impossible to cover every issue that we may encounter in a single document or training session. Dubé identifies an incentive in “educating [their] volunteers on equity issues, which would then help them teach others wherever they go, especially since it's not exactly something [Ryerson] focuses on.”

Dubé mentions that The Eyeopener’s editors “make sure that the voices in our written pieces, as well as the writers themselves, are representative of our diverse population.” According to Dubé this has led to more people of colour running for and being elected to their masthead.

The Varsity highlights a number of specific efforts that their masthead has been making, including giving Black and Indigenous writers a platform within their Comment section, and their News Editor’s effort to consult more gender diverse experts for their stories.

Engaging with other student publications provides a wonderful opportunity for self-reflection, but we must expand our reach beyond our offices in order to have conversations that will help us grow into more equitable journalists.

Hold us accountable and become a part of this dialogue. Reach out to us at thestrand.ca/feedback. We’d love to learn from you.

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

The Qipao disconnect Processing culture as Asians vs. Asian-Americans georgia lin opinions editor

In the summer of 2016, I volunteered to teach English to elementary school children in Taiwan for a month.

The program was jointly sponsored between the different government ministries of Canada, the United States, and Taiwan in the name of “cross-cultural development.”

Yet my application for the program was considered weak because I was born and raised in Taiwan, and have relatively strong Mandarin speaking skills. The program implicitly valued the participation of second-generation Chinese youth, especially those who had never visited Taiwan before. In essence, I was the antithesis of their ideal volunteer: a first-generation immigrant who spoke fluent Mandarin and paid annual visits to the island where I was born and raised. Due to my inherently Taiwanese identity, I was perceived as unable to properly teach English to Taiwanese children because they would not be able to view me as a foreigner. The program organizers prioritized rising high school seniors with little experience overseas, the vast majority of whom were from suburbs of Asianimmigrant-heavy states like California and Maryland.

My time in the program was thoroughly uncomfortable. I found no kinship among the volunteers in my group, who were mostly divided into two camps: those who had grown up in Asian-majority countries like mainland China and Taiwan, and those who had the privilege of American or Canadian citizenship. My personal immigrant experience was diminished from both parties. My staggered Mandarin abilities were evident amongst the rapid fast lingo of the fifth graders I was teaching, but my cultural knowledge of Taiwanese customs, even knowing just one or two words in Hokkien (a Taiwanese dialect), made me an outlier in a cesspool of Asian-American teenagers who looked but seldom thought like me. I was in a strange, suspended limbo—comfortable communicating with the children in Mandarin, which was strongly discouraged, yet also comfortable communicating with my colleagues in English, which felt like a betrayal when

spoken in my homeland. Asian-American volunteers were learning my—our—culture through traversing night markets in Taipei and complaining about eating steamed white rice every day, whereas I had been struggling to unlearn a Chinese accent since the second grade. Yet I had advantages in comparison to my peers—I could swim upstream through the intricacies of both continents without a lifejacket, my mother and second tongues competing but ultimately compromising with one another.

Since immigrating to North America, I have repeatedly tried to balance my Taiwanese culture with newfound Western traditions. I’ve attempted to abandon the former and assimilate through names and middle school ignorance; I’ve unsuccessfully pushed back against dominating Eurocentric forces that have ruled my education since grade school. Sharing, protecting, and defending my Taiwanese heritage from slander is a minimum value that has been instilled in me since I landed. From declaring that I’m Taiwanese, not Chinese, when asked about my background, or crossing out captions on mainland-made maps that falsely claim Taiwan as a province of China, I have come to assert Taiwanese culture instead of hiding behind Canadian residency. The volunteer program, however questionable its motives may be, taught me that I need not sacrifice either to be a whole, multifaceted immigrant.

In the summer of 2018, a white teenaged girl named Keziah Daum in Utah wore a red and gold 旗袍 (qípáo), a traditional Chinese dress worn at traditional ceremonies and celebrations like weddings, to her high school prom.

After photographs of her dress were widely shared across social media, Daum defended her choice by arguing for the “uniqueness” and “beauty” of the dress. She made little to no mention of the fact that she was not ethnically Chinese, nor did she come from any ethnically Asian background. Daum’s words reflect a greater, longstanding Western attitude towards Asian culture: fascination at and fetishization of the supposed “exotic” nature of our dress, behaviour, and history.

The complex and contested nature of the immigrant experience is reflected in the difference between mine and my father’s reaction to this news story. I watched with disdain as Daum went on Fox News’ “Fox and Friends” morning program to further justify her thin reasonings and contemplated the lack of qipaos in my own wardrobe.

I planned ahead to when I would visit Taipei next, and if I would have the funds to purchase one of my own. In comparison, my father summed up his reaction in this exasperated phrase: “People are ridiculous.” His answer mirrored that of Daum’s; both thought the backlash to her decision was unfounded and that the public was merely overreacting. Residents of mainland China had a similar opinion—they were proud to have their culture showcased on the bodies of white women in white America, because they are thought to have greater influence compared to Asians living in the Western hemisphere. Daum labelling her choice to wear the qipao as “cultural appreciation” resonated with Asians in Asia, whereas first and second-generation Asians like myself wrestled with her ignorance of our ancestry.

The markedly different reactions to Daum’s actions from Asians and Asian-Americans underscore the disparities in mainland and immigrant thinking. To me, it’s theft. My language has been stolen from my fingers because I can no longer write in full Mandarin sentences.

My family has been separated from me by the borders and visas that plague my childhood. My idea of home has been warped into one comprised of fragments, appearing in flight patterns and feeling joyful when I find a Taiwanese bubble tea enclave in gentrified cities. Had I come of age in Taiwan instead of Canada, perhaps my reaction would be the same as my father’s, or that of the Chinese public: one of pride and excitement at increased Western exposure, even if it is done through embezzled means. To be blissfully unaware of the marginalization that seeks to diminish the experiences of Asian-American immigrants, even at a seemingly innocuous high school senior prom.

As an immigrant, I demand my 旗袍 back.

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| mia carnevale

06 OPINIONS

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Filling in the blanks Navigating racialized spaces in academia

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meg zhang contributor

It’s 8:30 am. I’m taking a course on Shakespeare at Oxford University, and my class starts in 15 minutes. I make my way from the dining hall to my classroom, yawning and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Lecture Room B is located at the bottom of some stairs across the main quad. I’m sitting on the steps, waiting for my professor, when I notice a scout emerge from the restroom. Scouts are Oxford students who can make some extra money by maintaining the facilities over the summer—this one had graduated the year before.

“Good morning,” I say absentmindedly, playing around on my phone. “Do you speak Chinese?” he responds. I look up from my phone and stare at him for a second too long. What does he mean? Before I can answer, he flashes me a grin and enthusiastically garbles several sounds in my direction. “What do you think?” he asks. I shrug, not knowing what to say. It’s a Monday morning, so I’m only functioning at 80 percent. This encounter doesn’t help. I check the time on my phone. Ten minutes to go. “I’m from Toronto.” I say, anticipating his next question. “I’m here for the month with the others—taking the Shakespeare course.”

“That’s super cool.” He no longer seems as interested. “Is that what you’re studying back in Toronto?”

“English literature.” I confirm, turning my attention back to my cellphone. “What better place to study Shakespeare than in England, right?”

“So what do you think about Hong Kong?” I look up again. What about Hong Kong? I tell him I’m not sure what he means. “You know, Hong Kong wanting to split from the rest of China.” He looks a little incredulous. “What do think of that?”

“I don’t know what to think,” I offer truthfully.

“I’m not really updated with what’s happening over there, I guess.” He frowns a little before returning to his work. I check the time again. Five minutes. At this point, my classmates begin to trickle downstairs.

“So what about Tibet?” His attention is focused on me again.

I’ve rarely had interactions like this one. In fact, I can probably count them on one hand. I try not to let the presumptions of others affect me, especially when I am travelling. And while it’s certainly not pleasant, I can understand why some people, especially the elderly, may assume that English is not my first language based on my appearance.

This particular instance was a rude awakening.

Not only was this person my age, he had studied at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world.

Oxford may be more racially homogenous than Toronto, but there can be no doubt that he has come across non-white international students who could speak fluent English. Perhaps it wasn’t so much the language I spoke, but rather my academic pursuits.

To this scout, my Chinese ethnicity didn’t correspond with my interest in English literature. My presence had similarly confused another English individual just the day before. I was in Bristol, visiting the city’s cathedral. A volunteer came up to me to explain the architectural history. I could tell from

| michael beckwith

the slow speed in which she was speaking that she presumed English was not my first language. I could also tell from the expression on her face that she undoubtedly believed she knew more about the Church of England and British history than I did.

It is challenging to navigate race in an age of colourblindness. As we diversify academic spaces through expanding our idea of who can be an academic, it is crucial that we do not racialize our assumptions in the process. I also make this mistake sometimes. The stereotypes we project onto someone studying mathematics or engineering can vary drastically from those we impose upon students in English and theatre. Whether we are aware of them or not, these presumptions may carry very racist implications.

It is not enough to incorporate more voices of people of colour in higher education. We must also take what they have to say seriously. This means speaking to people of colour with the same respect and courtesy as one would show when speaking to white people. Not only is it disrespectful and patronizing to speak slowly from the start, or at a higher volume, or change the topic to something that would be more “appropriate,” but these actions also belittle the presence of racialized folks. We must consider the value and necessity of people of colour in academia, especially those who are studying disciplines traditionally found in the Western canon. Whether in Oxford or in Toronto, it is crucial for us to envision and actively place people of colour in spaces where they have previously experienced exclusion.

OPINIONS 07

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 2 OCTOBER 2018

The costs of being a Vic student Shaping financial culture among university students emma paidra contributor

Financial support is essential for virtually any organized activity to take place. Yet in a community filled with young people who are often grappling with their newfound financial independence, how can Victoria College balance the crucial nature of funding with the ever-changing financial situations of its students? The answer is far from clear-cut.

Nonetheless, it is important that we recognize the ways in which community events that continuously rely on charging fees shape the culture of Vic. For example, let’s think about the social dynamic of a “Free Movie in the Quad” event, compared to a tie-dye activity where shirts must be purchased for 10 dollars each in order to participate. With regards to the theoretical movie night, time is the only foreseeable constraint faced by interested parties. However, an automatic financial hindrance is placed on anyone interested in the tie-dyeing event due to the simple addition of a 10 dollar fee. Suddenly, the entire dynamic of the event is changed, as individuals who are unable to pay the 10 dollars—a steep amount for some—are automatically left out. Financial exclusion is separate and of a different nature than other potential constraints on attendance because, let’s face it, talking about money is uncomfortable. It is similarly awkward to promote an event to your peers only to discover that others are not able to attend due to a lack of funds.

Victoria College students often face these tension-provoking conversations as soon as it becomes clear that not everyone will be able to afford entry to an event; this rapidly becomes a lose-lose situation. The majority of events held at Vic are made accessible to students of all financial statuses, and most groups are not in the business of contributing to an increasingly financially fragmented community. However, it is important to address the ways in which those few events that are not available to all students shape our social interactions.

Upon closer analysis, it appears that not only social dynamics, but also academics, can be influenced by co-curricular

expenses. According to the National Centre for Education Statistics (NCES), run by the US Department of Education, students working up to 15 hours a week have higher GPAs than students who do not work, but the grades of those who worked 16 or more hours weekly suffered. It is absolutely possible to balance part-time work with academic success, but students can often reach a certain point that inadvertently causes their academics to be sidelined due to their need for a living wage. In the case of the NCES study, this breaking point occurs when a student works over 16 hours a week, but everyone is subject to their individual limits.

Many Victoria College students must work extra parttime, casual, or contract hours if they want to be able to afford the cost of living. In order to pay for certain Vic events, they may also feel pressured to take on extra shifts that could

overwhelm them. While some students may be able to juggle their work with academics, a host of students may struggle with creating a manageable schedule. In the case of working students, balance is key. In much the same way, when it comes to charging for events, it is about managing the necessity of financial support from the institution along with the monetary constraints that students so commonly face in this competitive economy. We cannot expect that all events will always be free, as the goal to generate profit and revenue are the gears that form the reality of our capitalist world. Despite this, we can strive to build a community where we are conscious of the ways in which monetary access impacts our relationships and social dynamics, bringing us that much closer to bridging the financial discrepancies found at Vic.

illustration

| mia carnevale

Reframing privilege: a guide to allyship “To those who say people take things far too personally... I call you complacent.” rehana mushtaq contributor

I know there are plenty of folks who roll their eyes and complain about oversensitivity when a minority identity claims discrimination or oppression. But I would like you to take a moment and consider where these cries of disenchantment are coming from, take a moment and reframe what it means for someone to speak aloud subjectivities that are often deemed “irrational,” and what it means to have someone earnestly stand by their side.

A few weeks ago, my brother and I got into a huge fight with my father about an uncle who, in the past, has made several problematic comments on a multitude of issues concerning xenophobia, sexism, and so on. While a darling man, learning that he condones and spreads this general ethos was unnerving, insulting even—to see this shame proliferated while simultaneously washing away his experiences and identity as an immigrant of colour in order to appease the dominating white masses. In return, our frustrations were met by my father denouncing us as ungrateful and lazy for the way we were carrying ourselves, between our relatives and in public, as he believed our response was a stain on all he had built for us.

My father dropped out of school at 15 years old, worked several menial jobs to provide us with food,

shelter, and a pathway to immigrate to Canada to create a better life. When he first came to this country, he received hate and abuse from all corners. He tolerated xenophobic remarks that marked him as stupid, crass, and greedy. He has allowed, and to this day still allows, his coworkers, clients, and management to speak down to him because of his “otherness.” As much as I hate his toleration of abuse, I understand that it was the only way for him to get us where we are today. My brother and I made the mistake of saying that we wanted something else. We didn’t want to be the board people threw darts at as they pleased. We wanted to speak out when we saw injustices happen, because there just had to be a chance at change out there. Not just for ourselves, but also for those around us.

When minorities speak out against the marginalization they have or do experience, we aren’t playing the victim. We are taking agency over our narratives and throwing out that popular misnomer of “victimhood.” These experiences often come from incredibly personal spaces. No one is simply speaking out for fun or for the sake of disturbance. It’s about railing against what is institutionalized within society, as well as against accepted cultural norms of the places where we are raised, and of the people we have been raised by. We are speaking out against what we have been taught to accept not just by our peers, but also by our families and friends.

We risk being disowned by people and spaces.

We give up opportunities in work and school. We give up the seemingly comfortable padding of acceptance, because even when we thrive, it isn’t the same as when someone white and male thrives. Everyone has baggage, but our baggage is marked out in the open by our sex or the colour of our skin. It is a sacrifice in the hopes of building something better. But we need more than one of our own to speak about the disadvantages our communities face. It is important that our words are given the chance to be heard, and that the space we co-exist in is shared.

To those who say people take things far too personally when it comes to politics and unwittingly follow an ingrained set of societally accepted behaviours and cultural norms, I call you complacent. You allow yourselves to abuse a system that puts others at a greater disadvantage, not just financially, but also mentally and physically. We need your help. We need you to listen to what we have to say and what we have been through. To speak alongside us, not against or over us. To ask and answer uncomfortable questions, because that’s how you address the world’s wrongs and work toward finding a solution. We need you to stand by our sides and demand better. But first, it’s important to address the set of privileges you have over the rest, because you can’t mend a gap unless you know where it begins.

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | REBECCA GAO FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

on mental illness and creativity

By Ellen Grace

illustration

| ellen grace

FEATURES 09

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 2 OCTOBER 2018

Every feeling, thought, and experience we encounter is viewed from the brain. We create mental frames for what we take to be reality.

When our brain attempts to distort this reality, through trauma, addictions, and mental illness, we find creative ways to build new realities. The correlation between mental illness and creativity is often discussed, with the focus usually on whether or not the illness is the cause of original thought.

As a mentally ill person, the ability to create and use art to express my feelings is one of my most valuable coping mechanisms. It allows me multiple means to show my feelings to others, including music, art, and the written word. Recently, I have begun wondering who I would be without my mental illness.

Some of my own works I am most proud of have come from times of deep stress and depression, and some have come from times of pure clarity and joy.

A considerable part of our society today involves condemning ideas that deviate from the norm. Both creative thinking and mental illness involve attributes that can be viewed as “different.” Just as in all aspects of living with

white. They think it involves either always experiencing symptoms, labelled “insanity,” or experiencing none at all. In her book on the connections between Bipolar Disorder and the artistic temperament, Kay Redfield Jamison notes, “Lucidity, however, is not incompatible with occasional bouts of madness, just as extended periods of normal physical health are not incompatible with occasional bouts of disease.” Scholars are quick to deny accusations of great artists being mentally ill, as they believe it will take away from the significant effort they put into their works. In discussing the life and work of William Blake, writer Harold Nicolson notes, “For those who defend against charges of insanity, much of the concern seems to stem from assumptions that ‘mad’ is somehow ‘bad,’ that madness is a fixed condition with no periods of rational thought or experience, that great art cannot come from madness and, therefore, great artists cannot have been mad.”

Either way, since mental illness is not something that can be controlled, an artist’s mental illness should add no negative connotations to their work. Artists who are suspect-

artists, whether or not they are mentally ill.

Simply put, art is the expression of an idea, and our ideas originate from the mind. “We have the most complex tool in the world, our mind, and no manual,” notes Hindu priest Dandapani, who dedicates his life to helping people navigate their brains. There is no correct way to express yourself. No matter the judgement on the content you create, art is a way to convey and work through feelings.

From journaling to composing great symphonies, many artists write about how freeing it is to finally finish a work on a particular subject, as if it has taken the feeling away. Art is used as therapy in many areas of health and recovery. Writing fiction can allow you to escape to a new world, plunging yourself into a project is a way to leave behind your emotions for the time being.

With all the discourse surrounding the correlation between art and mental illness, it is crucial to encourage people with mental illnesses to express themselves creatively. If no one with mental health issues ever made art, our world today would be void of so many seminal creations. It is imperative to tell our

suffering is not a prerequisite for good work, nor is it necessary for art mental illness, there are advantages and limitations to being an artist with a mental illness.

For example, if your thoughts and experiences are already viewed as divergent, you may be more open to creative thinking. Psychologist J.P. Guilford concluded in his studies on creativity that “creative individuals [are] far more likely to exhibit divergent rather than convergent thinking.” He explained that creativity is a form of divergent thinking, influenced by several factors. While divergent thinking may lead to creation, the divergent thinking influenced by mental illness drastically changes how one views life and can have a deep impact on an artist’s work. Positive, welcoming environments with the freedom to take risks have been correlated with higher levels of creative thinking. However, depending on an individual’s experience and circumstances, they may not have the capacity for this mindset. The mental illness may tell the artist that the work isn’t worthy, to give up, and that they will never achieve greatness, therefore convincing the artist that it is not safe to share anything.

Depression and suicidal ideation can lean toward rumination on the meaning of life and purpose. While this may lead to more art, often darkness is just darkness, not a creative tool. It is dangerous to ignore it for the sake of art and to leave illness untreated.

One concern when discussing the work of artists who experience mental illnesses stems from the fact that many people do not understand that mental illness is not black and

ed to have experienced mental illness did not necessarily spawn their work in an entirely illness-induced state; they likely worked on it through a time that included many mental states. Jamison also notes, “In order for farflung or chaotic thoughts to be transformed into art, original and meaningful connections must be made.” Artists have noted that while they conceived an idea during a bout of selfdefined “madness,” they fixed and refined the idea while experiencing a clearer mental state.

Another issue when discussing the mental health of an artist is the “tortured artist” trope, which can often lead to misdiagnosis or forced pain for the sake of art. Many poets and scholars imply that great creation comes from great suffering. Younger artists who see this suffering may seek to replicate it if they believe it is the birthplace of great work. All lives have varying emotions and emotional ups and downs, and the “tortured artist” trope is extremely dangerous to reinforce. No one should be encouraged to suffer for the sake of art. As long as we keep reinforcing this trope, those with mental illness may shy away from seeking help if they believe their suffering to be necessary for their art. Since artists are already viewed as different thinkers, they may not consider the fact that their thinking may stem from illness and avoid seeking help. Suffering is not a prerequisite for good work, nor is it necessary for art. If we group suffering and artistic work together, we are making a dangerous connection that is unsafe for all

stories so others feel represented and know they are not alone. Many current representations of mental illness in media involve negative and unrealistic portrayals, and use mental illness as a plot point. When more people with lived experience of mental illness are involved in the creation of media, the stories being portrayed can be more authentic and realistic. Positive representations of mental illness in media influence people to seek help and help people better understand what life is like as someone with a mental illness. These representations are best written by people who have experienced them. No matter how much trouble I have with my illness, it is part of who I am. It has had an undeniable effect on my work and creativity, and has allowed me to experience emotions that have led me to create great work. The emotions connected to living life with mental illness can be vastly different than those experienced by others.

Maybe this is why artists who express these feelings in their work are seen as revolutionary. They have gone to the darkest, highest, and farthest places, and have come back to tell the tale. But this does not mean they went there willingly, nor does it mean that suffering is a requirement of good art. As the poet Lord Byron said: “I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake, or an eternal fever.”

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | TANUJ ASHWIN KUMAR SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

Skin

The science behind skincare jasmine ng podcast editor

Ask people what the largest organ in the body is and most will not think of skin.

However, this elastic and dynamic organ is the biggest and one of the most important structures. Skin not only protects our flesh and inner organs from cuts, scrapes, and burns, but also waterproofs us, repairs early sun damage, and regulates our body temperature. Most interestingly of all, it plays a large role in our social lives. Skin is the only organ whose appearance is highly public, prized, and preened. In the United States alone, 8 billion dollars are spent annually on cosmetics. The skincare industry is fraught with false advertisements. These range from ingredients with limited research for backing up their claims to products that cause more damage than good. With so many choices of products and thousands of anecdotal reviews, what is the true science behind skincare?

To begin, some foundational knowledge about skin is needed. This organ is made up of tightly knit cells called epithelial cells. These tiny units join together into sheets with the help of a multitude of proteins, which give the structures flexibility, the capacity to communicate, and waterproofing. Sheets upon sheets of epithelial cells layer on top of one another to form the dermis (the deeper layer of your skin) and the epidermis (the visible outer layer).

In the skin, cells specialize within their layers to form pores. For example, some dermal cells become hair follicle cells, while others specialize into oil gland cells that coat the hairs with sebum. Skin cells are also always aging and changing. Though it seems like your skin and pores look the same, the turnover rate for cells is quick compared with other cells in the body. Skin cells migrate to the outer surface and detach from the sheets when they can no longer sustain a bond with living cells. In most normal cases, skin cells simply fall off unnoticed. However, when they become trapped among their cell neighbours, problems arise.

Acne is one of the most prevalent skin conditions and tends to occur in teenagers and young adults. The signs are obvious: red pimples (papules), whiteheads (pustules), blackheads, and painful bumps underneath the skin called cysts or nodules. Though acne is often thought to be the product of dirtiness, pimples cannot be scrubbed away with cleansers. The true cause of acne can be varied: bacterial proliferation, hormonal changes, or a combination of both. The bacteria in the first case are called P. acnes, and they are a naturally occurring microbe on the skin. These bacteria often grow out of control during puberty due to the over-production of sebum that comes with the raising of androgen levels. Androgens are male sex hormones present in all humans, and their side effects include stimulating oil production and increasing skin inflammation. With more sebum in the pores, P. acnes can proliferate and become trapped inside pores in a clump of skin cells and oil. The resulting clog is called a comedone. In the second case of hormonal acne, the increase in androgens during puberty and progesterone before menstruation can cause an excess of sebum. The natural exfoliation of cells from the epidermis may not be functioning optimally; therefore, the sebum-sticky dead cells collect in the pore, causing inflammation.

How does one remove these comedones? For immediate relief of visible

whiteheads, a hot cloth over the comedone can soften the oil for removal. However, the underlying cause of the pimples cannot be treated this way. When it comes to bacterial acne, the answer is typically benzoyl peroxide. This topical disinfectant can be bought over the counter at 2.5, 5, and 10 percent concentrations. Benzoyl peroxide kills P. acnes and tames breakouts in the long term.

Another option is salicylic acid, a derivative of willow bark extract. Its betterknown precursor, aspirin, is often touted as a home remedy for pimples. Many online sources suggest crushing aspirin pills and mixing them with water. The pure form of aspirin, though, has the potential to dry and irritate the skin, making it a dubious treatment. Salicylic acid, on the other hand, is often already packaged into over-the-counter creams in 1 to 2 percent concentrations. This acid is a chemical exfoliant that can dissolve oil plugs and fix the shape of the pore lining over time, improving oil flow. Most people think of exfoliation as scouring with a washcloth or gritty scrubs. However, manual exfoliation only touches the surface of the skin and cannot reach the source of the problem: the pores. It also irritates the skin, causing microtears. Therefore, if exfoliation is the treatment of choice, chemical exfoliation is more targeted and effective. The only limitation of salicylic acid products is the pH range required for proper exfoliation. pH is a measure of acidity or basicity in a liquid. Salicylic acid only works within an acidic pH range of 3 to 5. Most products have a pH far above 5, so it is important to check online resources for the pH of specific products.

With this new knowledge, however, it is important to note that other ingredients make a difference in the efficacy of skincare products. Toners, creams, masks, and other leave-on products should include antioxidants such as Vitamin E (tocopherol), Vitamin C (ascorbic acid), and squalene, as well as ingredients to help with cell communication, such as niacinamide. For those with sensitive skin, soothing ingredients such as bisabolol and allantoin help tone down redness. These components bolster the skin’s sun-damage repair mechanisms and speed up the healing of dark spots left over from past pimples.

Some ingredients should be avoided completely, such as denatured alcohol and essential oils (bergamot, linanool, limonene, lavender, sandalwood, etc.).

These ingredients often add to the texture and fragrance of products, making them more aesthetically pleasing. However, they have been proven to cause short-term irritation by drying out the skin, while also affecting skin in the long term by damaging cells’ ability to regenerate. To put denatured alcohol into perspective: it is used as rubbing alcohol to kill bacteria in households and laboratories alike. Considering its potency in killing cells, it would not make a good skincare ingredient.

How does one choose ingredients? Take the time to look at the ingredient list of new skincare products. Due to FDA regulations, most ingredient lists show ingredients in descending order of quantity. Therefore, keep an eye out for the ingredients that come first. To fill in any unknowns, online dictionaries have been made to sort ingredients by function and potential for irritation.

Not only is it an interesting exercise to find ingredients you recognize, but having this knowledge proves useful time and time again. In an era of self-care, misguiding advice and product placement are at all-time highs. The feeling of health and wellness can be subjective, but thankfully, skincare can be backed by objective science.

illustration

| fiona tung

EDITOR | HARRISON WADE ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

ARTS AND CULTURE 11

Exhibition opening: It Can Only Be This Place A tribute to Scarborough at UTSC’s Doris McCarthy Gallery rashana youtzy contributor

Escaping your hometown, especially a suburban one, is a fantasy many of us dream of when growing up—it’s a feeling of not belonging, of there being more out there that here cannot possibly offer. That sentiment, though no stranger to many residents of Scarborough, is challenged by It Can Only Be This Place, which explores the hidden treasures of the city, the solace Scarborough provides to those experiencing diaspora, and the narratives that are woven within its landscape. The exhibition is a reminder that Scarborough has what you need, even if you have not realized it yet, and that there is no reason to be ashamed to call this place home.

It Can Only Be This Place is an exhibition at the Doris McCarthy Gallery (at the University of Toronto Scarborough Campus) curated by Tiffany Schofield with art by Hiba Abdallah, Steven Beckly, Alyssa Bistonath, and Patrick Cruz. Schofield has conducted previous ventures studying Scarborough and confronting the perceptions people have of the city. The exhibition was developed in conversation with locals as a means of grasping a comprehensive understanding of Scarborough’s communities and landscapes. For example, one of the first works patrons interact with is Bistonath’s astronaut from Portals, a documentary/science fiction film about the Guyanese diaspora in Scarborough. Bistonath is the child of Guyanese immigrants, and since the diasporic group has a large community in Scarborough, the work resonates as a collective symbol for embarking on a new journey despite harsh tensions for newcomers. Abdallah and Bistonath have also worked together on This Place, a projection that reflects on what it is like to live in Scarborough—one that gives birth to a sense of self that could not be found elsewhere.

The exhibition engages various senses as the audio from This Place becomes the navigating soundtrack to a reflective dialogue of self-discovery.

Meanwhile, the tactile nature of a hypothetical souvenir shop stimulates the senses: an array of trinkets demand touch while postcard visuals read “WHERE THE SWEETERMANS LIVE” and chicken shawarma candies rouse tastebuds. Hiba Abdallah uses this hypothetical souvenir shop as a central interaction, marking how Scarborough is perceived, and manifesting the city’s defining characteristics into a tangible form. A dedicated space invites visitors to write letters addressed with “Dear Scarborough.”

At the opening reception, the scent of Jollibee chicken was concentrated in the air, celebrating the opening of a new restaurant chain and Scarborough’s Filipino community. The sensory experience of tasting the mango peach pie was incredible.

Scarborough’s significance as a refuge for those experiencing diaspora is established through texts, images, and stories that celebrate the ways in which Scarborough is understood and commemorated. Patrons are privy to intimate memories of Scarborough locals—stories from their childhood about finding solace in the cultural hodgepodge when they struggled with their identity. A myriad of narratives intersects to highlight the multifaceted nature of the city, reinforcing Scarborough’s cultural, natural, and diasporic landscapes as continuously evolving.

Many of the visitors thus far have been delighted with the exhibition, recognizing themselves in some of the pieces, identifying with phrases on postcards, or finding themselves mesmerized by the allure of the Scarborough novelty apparel. One Scarborough local in attendance, Kachely Peters, attests to the quality of the exhibition and its works: “It Can Only Be This Place captures Scarborough’s true essence, one that isn’t usually shared with people who don’t live here. There a sense of community here, and it’s evident in the show.” Several other visitors shared this outlook, noting how Schofield and company hold true to Scarborough’s spirit in their works: they praise the city as something more than just suburbia and embrace it for its worth as a cultural hub and sanctuary for growth.

Whether or not you are a Scarborough native, attending school in the city, or just visiting, be sure to check out the exhibition and get a taste of the true Scarborough experience.

It Can Only Be This Place runs from September 4 to November 3 at Doris McCarthy Gallery at the University of Toronto Scarborough Campus. Admission is free. Open Tuesday to Friday 11 am to 4 pm, Wednesday until 8 pm, Saturday 12 to 5 pm, closed Sunday and Monday

photo

| rashana youtzy

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | HARRISON WADE ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

In conversation with Devon Welsh Catching up with the ex-Majical Cloudz frontman

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|

jay bawar

photo

jay bawar design editor

In the two years since Majical Cloudz’s breakup, Devon Welsh has remained quiet, slowly working on his solo debut, Dream Songs. Released on his newly formed label, You Are Accepted, Dream Songs is a perfect next step for Welsh. The record keeps the skeletal form of Welsh’s past work while introducing a strong focus on organic instrumentation and lush arrangements, which pair perfectly with the crooning baritone that we’ve all loved since day one. Whereas before, Welsh took a more ominous tone in his music, Dream Songs focuses on positivity, growth, and self-love. “I know there is a garden in me / I feel it growing,” he sings on the closing song, “Take It Easy.” The Strand sat down with Devon before his Toronto show to talk about going solo, the anxieties of success, and music journalism today.

How did the songs on this album come about? Are any from the Majical Cloudz era?

Whenever I’m making albums, I collect songs so I always have stuff. The process usually takes a really long time, from the beginning of writing and then paring them down to the recording process. The earliest song from Dream Songs (“Dreams Have Pushed You Around”) was written in November 2013.

Dream Songs came once I was aware that Majical Cloudz wasn’t going to continue. I wasn’t writing with this built-in framework in mind. That was November 2015. That’s when I started thinking about making music under a different project.

Do you feel that Majical Cloudz was a persona with a specific image you were trying to push, compared to now, where your music is more personal under your own name?

It’s definitely more personal now. Majical Cloudz wasn’t a persona but [rather] a certain set of aesthetic rules and guidelines: this is what the project is about, these are the ways that we perform songs, building songs around loops, and it was kind of something that was tightly defined. [In] deciding to make music under my own name, one of the benefits was that I could do whatever I wanted. I can make different types of records and experiment.

Do you feel weighed down by the way that people’s expectations of a Devon Welsh project will always be compared to Majical Cloudz? Does it bother you to be constantly written about in relation to Majical Cloudz?

I think with doing press around this album, it’s kind of necessary to address the transition. The idea of doing something that people liked, then ending that and trying to do something else has a lot of sides to it. On one hand, people like what I did—that’s great. Period. If somebody continues to say that “this great thing in the past still means something to me,” that’s something I’ll enjoy as long as I’m alive. On the other hand, there’s people who say “I connected with Majical

Cloudz more,” obviously that’s bittersweet—“I connected with you more in the past,” like an old friend you’ve grown apart from. But I can’t worry about it too much. Life carries on and I’m trying to connect with people that are interested in what I’m doing now.

I think a big question for musicians today is what is success and the point of making music? Is it having a large following, making money, or maybe just playing for yourself?

Everyone has their own definition. For some people there’s a certain way you begin to relate to your music when it takes its own character. For me, I don’t know exactly what all the causes of the breakup were, but at a certain point I started to disidentify with Majical Cloudz as a project. I didn’t feel like “me.” I felt I was doing it because it was working and there were certain parts that started to feel disconnecting. Maybe other people have this experience in the way people relate to the music I’m making. Sometimes you want to move on.

Did it feel like you were making music for other people, fans, or your label?

It’s a great experience to have people love your music. But it’s also something that you don’t necessarily need to bask in forever. There was something, at that time in my life, that was a little bit the idea of playing old songs [and going], “Oh I’m not into this song,” but everyone wants to hear it. At that point I wasn’t interested and wanted to do my own thing, re-establish my own relationship to making music. Make it in a way that was authentic to me.

I definitely see that in this album. Do you think we place too much importance on music reviews and publications?

I think I have a skewed perspective. There could be more emphasis on reviews and publications. We need more wellresearched editorial voices doing it for real reasons that are commendable. I feel like journalism in general has declined with respect to the quality of the work, and music journalism is no exception to that. I remember 2008 to 2010 as the glory days for [music journalism]. You would go on the internet on a blog and it would explain the whole playlist or collection—“Why I think it’s really good” or “What it means to me.” It would be great if there was more energy put into music journalism.

Why did you decide to start your own label, You Are Accepted, and self-release Dream Songs?

I had a certain experience [in] the music industry and there were parts of it that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. I felt like an outsider. There were parts I liked but I wasn’t done figuring out how it made sense for me to relate to being a musician. So self-releasing seemed comfortable for me. It allowed me to do things the way I wanted to do [them]. I could have my hands

| jay bawar

on each step of the process. I didn’t feel like before, where I was trying to present something earnest and genuine, but then there was this middleman that didn’t share this perspective.

What’s the future? Do you think your next album will also be released on your label?

For now, I’ll self-release it and hold on as long as I can until I’m completely broke [laughs]. Then figure out the next step from there. To me, music is about making the recordings and then connecting it directly to people who relate to it. I don’t need a massive intervention to spread my music into the world and along the way accrue these corporate relationships and sponsorships. I’m trying to get rid of that, do it on a smaller scale. Self-releasing is being able to do that more easily and not feel like there’s this entity hovering in the back grinning.

So you feel more comfortable in a smaller space? Compared to the Lorde tour, do you think that impacted your views on large scale, commercial success?

It absolutely did. Prior to that, I had the thought that I could actually do something with this, and people [in the industry] went, “Oh, you can go places!” But I never really thought about the end goal or how big I wanted it to become. The experience of going on that tour resulted in people saying, “You’re way more legit now.” Suddenly I’m [thinking] what's next? That was a strange experience and it’s hard to explain, but it wasn’t comfortable for me.

Maybe it wasn’t what you thought it would be? The expectations of big success.

Yeah, it’s in my personality. I’m kind of neurotic and other people were like, “I think you’re gonna do good but…we’ll see.” It gave me this sense of “Oh man, I need to fulfill these people's expectations, I don’t wanna let them down.” Those giant shows were very alien to what I implicitly considered a good show in my mind, which is a small space and the dream would be just mastering that. Going on that tour [I felt] if things go perfectly, this is what I can aim to do in my wildest dreams.

Then I thought I don’t belong in this environment, I felt like I was wearing clown shoes. After that I had these [questions] of “Where is this headed? What am I trying to accomplish? What does music mean to me? What inside me am I trying to satisfy by making music?” I realized climbing to ever greater heights of success was more corrosive than positive to me. I had a sense that I needed to get out of there.

What’s next for Devon Welsh?

Making [Dream Songs] took a really long time, especially since there was a lot of figuring things out for the first time in terms of self-releasing. I have a lot of songs that are written but yet to be recorded and released. My goal is to release another album by this time next year. I’ll be working towards that.

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Review: Heathers: The Musical

A perfect cast leads Hart House’s production through the difficulties of high school marjan mahmoudian contributor

As a long-time fan of Heathers: The Musical, I am beyond pleased to say that Hart House Theatre’s production was comparable to, if not just as good as the Off-Broadway original, doing a stunning job of capturing exactly what makes this musical such a wonderful experience.

Directed by Jennifer Walls, Heathers: The Musical is a rock musical that follows the story of Veronica Sawyer, a 17-year-old badass who navigates the ups and downs of life at the clique-driven Westerberg High and dreams of better days. However, once she’s taken under the wings of the school’s idolized trio of mean girls, The Heathers, her gaze into the poisonous social hierarchies unveils a frightening reality, especially when mysterious new kid J.D. shines a new light on what the cost of being a “somebody” might be.

What makes this production particularly well-done is the quality of its casting. Emma Sangalli is the perfect Veronica—when she feels genuine happiness, fear, yearning or frustration, the audience feels everything with her. Justan Myers’ portrayal as Jason “J.D.” Dean is also extremely well done, as he holds the audience between feeling sympathetic for him and simply

marvelling at the unsettling atmosphere he creates. Together the pair do the iconic duo an enormous amount of justice and carry the narrative of the story forward with ease.

The titular characters of The Heathers are also portrayed phenomenally. Heather Chandler (Mary Bowden) is just as intimidating as she is hilarious, serving as the proverbial “devil” on Veronica’s shoulder throughout the play. Heather Duke (Paige Foskett) does an excellent job of following Chandler and making us dislike her, shedding an important light on the overarching message of the play. The role of Heather McNamara (Becka Jay) eventually develops into a spotlight-stealer with her incredibly moving rendition of “Lifeboat,” a necessary step the musical takes in beginning a dialogue about the pressures of adolescent mental health. The same can be said about Martha Dunnstock’s (Moulan Bourke) rendition of “Kindergarten Boyfriend,” which becomes increasingly moving in light of her developing friendship with Veronica. Other notable performances are Ram Sweeney (Wade Minacs) and Kurt Kelly’s (Aaron Cadesky) portrayal of despicable high school archetypes, which fueled many of the laughs throughout the show. This is also true for their respective fathers (Mark J. Umphrey and Hunter Agnew) during their rendition

of “My Dead Gay Son.” With set design that is just as colourful, mesmerizing, and twisted as the story becomes, and a killer live band accompanying equally killer vocals, Walls calls Heathers: The Musical the intersection between “MTV and musical theatre,” and I couldn’t agree more. While it’s arguably one of the decade’s most well-done movie-to-musical adaptions, it’s the attention it brings to bullying, suicide, and mental health that truly makes it an incredibly important story, and why I commend the production team, cast, and everyone involved for portraying that message so well. Westerberg High School might seem like an extreme version of what actually goes on in high schools, but to those who have lived through many of its realities—myself included—it brings to light the sometimes-claustrophobic atmosphere that is present in all stages of schooling and life. Through its depictions of social hierarchies, loneliness, familial pressure, and societal expectations, Heathers: The Musical emphasizes the importance of dialogue, action, and compassion in times where the negative voices often seem to outweigh the positive. Overall, Heathers: The Musical aimed to make this beautiful and all I can say is, that worked for me; Hart House Theatre’s adaption is an absolute triumph.

photo

| scott gorman

Review: Room 25

In her debut studio album, Noname welcomes you back, catches you up erica sung contributor

In the opening bars of her debut studio album, Noname wonders what the listener will be doing as they listen. She raps, “Maybe this the album you listen to in your car / When you driving home late at night / Really questioning every god, religion, Kanye, bitches,” her first lyrics in two years.

This album, as she announces in the first verse of “Self,” is for her, and she makes sure that her voice and manner of storytelling are apparent in every line.

Her debut mixtape, Telefone, was released in 2016 to critical acclaim. The continued popularity of that 30-minute compilation brought her two years of touring and a move to Los Angeles from her hometown of Chicago.

In her writing Noname is, at once and consistently, personal and far-reaching. Her early career as a spoken word artist is apparent in both her lyrics and their delivery. She manages to capture an important element of spoken word: she makes her lived experiences accessible without seeking to make blanket statements about how everyone might see the world.

Instead, Noname shares her observations, talks about what’s changed in her life, and shapes her identity in a melodious tone that makes her music feel as though she’s talking to you as a close friend.

The content and production of Room 25 are darker than Noname’s previous release, Telefone. There, the sound marked a bubblier, more youthful period of her life. But Room 25 still paints experiences from both ends of an emotional spectrum between pain and joy. Whether she’s contemplating how the current state of the American government is keeping her up at night in “Blaxploitation,” or fantasizing about a quiet day spent in Jamaica with a lover in “Montego Bae,” she’s a storyteller whose practiced, quiet craft is fatal. Her flow is conversational and casual, contrasting her densely packed rhymes that fit 11 songs into a 34-minute record. She maps a syncopated scheme, and her bars can be surprising to a first-time listener due to her tendency to rap to the melody rather than the drum beat.

This characteristic of Noname’s music, while making her flow unique, takes on a different quality in “Prayer Song.” In the second verse both the beat and her rapping seem to speed up, though this is only

an effect of her delivery—she takes longer pauses between bars as though she’s run out of breath, her voice having tried to outrun the rhythm by the end of the song. When the beat catches up to her, she raps to it rather than the melody. The darkness of her lyrics is highlighted as the cymbals start to fade out, leaving the moment with lyrical meaning, alone.

Room 25 is like catching up with a friend. Each song recalls a different part of Noname’s life over the past few years since Telefone: her move to LA, her recent success in the industry, and a torrid, tumultuous relationship create a narrative of her life since her last release. On the day of Room 25's release, Rolling Stone declared Noname one of the best rappers alive. At only 25 years of age, it may be a burdensome title to live up to. Noname herself admitted in the aforementioned article that she worried her previous success with Telefone was a fluke. However, she manages to maintain her quiet confidence and her clever, wry sense of humour in this release. In “Self,” she rhetorically asks: “Y’all really thought a bitch couldn’t rap huh?”

A few days after the release of Room 25, Noname announced a 2019 tour. She will be performing at the Danforth Music Hall in Toronto on January 3.

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EDITOR | LEO MORGENSTERN STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

Poober: it’s Uber for toilets Poober app chooses Victoria College as pilot location max nisbeth associate stranded editor

When first announced, Poober seemed like an unquestionably brilliant idea: the app helps users find available toilets in their area. The results are instantaneous and tailored to the user’s preferences and geographic location. Not only does this benefit those who really need a washroom when they’re out in public, but it’s also a great way to earn a few extra bucks if you have a toilet you aren’t using.

However, the app has been struggling to find funding in the months leading up to its ITO (Initial Toilet Offering).

The first obstacle facing the app came with its name.

Trying to highlight the similarity between its model and

Uber’s, the tech startup’s original name was in fact spelt “Puber.” Unfortunately, both teens and tweens felt this was insensitive toward the universal struggle of adolescence. Plus, it seemed like the app involved pubes.

While the future of the Toronto-based company looked like it was quickly going down the toilet, it was going to take another flush to plunge this freshly dumped start-up down the PVC pipes of failure. The second hurdle that Poober overcame (not including the minor “lack of toilet paper” setback) was the controversial “Poober Pool” function. A spokesperson for Toronto City Council made a statement to the press on Monday outlining their explicit disapproval, saying, “I can’t believe we even have to say this? You cannot implement an app that facilitates strangers sharing toilets at

the same time! Like how does that even work? Does someone squat on the other person’s—It’s a NO!” While the company still faces vast opposition from consumers and humans alike, it is going to take a triple-ply roll of Charmon Extra-Strength to wipe this app off the face of the Internet. That’s why Victoria College has stepped up to help unclog Poober’s plumbing. In the upcoming months, the app will be launching its pilot program across Vic bathrooms with the hope that other colleges at the University will soon catch on and that the clothes of students will be protected from unassisted defecation.

The future of the toilet location app is still unclear, but one thing is certain: the company is still a floater.

Help! I think Zach from Code Academy is hitting on me??? jasmine ng podcast editor

Dear Miss Abbie, I’ve been having a rough time and need some advice. I just joined Code Academy to learn to use Python. I think the machines are going to take my job as a hole puncher so I need to get ahead of the game. Anyway, I keep getting these emails from the founder, Zach, encouraging me to “put programming on my resume” and “put myself on a path to a brilliant new career.” It seems like he’s really invested in my livelihood with all these notifications, even if he’s being professional about it. Is there something caring and warm underneath his cool and collected façade? Is this the start of something new? I’m so confused. I think maybe I’d be into him if he’d just let his guard down, but I don’t want to seem desperate. Should I email him back? Please help a confused sister!

From, Conflicted and Curious Dear Miss Curious, Look at you, getting into the coding game this late! It takes courage to chase after a bus that left ten years ago. Everyone loves a lady with initiative and the resolve not to become a victim of automation. See, your predicament reminds me of the summer of ’67, when my one-woman trapeze act was travelling through small villages in Italy. Sergio, the motel barman, was such a dark and mysterious figure, with a jaw that just wouldn’t quit. I was also in my prime, my glutes the strongest they’d ever been. But I will admit—and this may come as a surprise to you—my trapeze act was not getting the positive response I was expecting.

When I confided in Sergio after ten shots that I might quit, he shrugged and said, “Mama must eat.” He was so noncommittal, I was smitten. So, Miss Curious, I suggest you test the waters. Why not? Perhaps he will also promise to let you meet his mother and then not show up under the lemon tree he told you to meet at. Or, he might not! Shoot your shot, Miss Curious.

Life is a trapeze act—uncertain, and usually leaving you with chronic back pain, anyways.

Loooooove, Miss Abbie

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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 2 OCTOBER 2018

milk and ravioli

i thought you were my prince charming turns out you were pnirce chmirnag

will you marry me? no sent from my iphone

achoo

dont cry because its over smile because its over

but did you bless me?

- s. farrukh and w. moeschter

Sned’s: the evil version of Ned’s Seven days after going missing, student stumbles out from “Dark Ned’s Cafe” james hannay reviewer of hidden and “evil” restaurants

Marco Floundry, a very real and not made up Victoria College student, stumbled back into Ned’s Café from behind the ice cream freezer at approximately 8:29 pm on September 20, 2018.

Marco had been missing for seven days. He had gone to Ned’s at approximately 8:28 pm on September 13 to grab a Chocolate Drumstick from the new ice cream freezer.

When he was nowhere to be found two days later, his parents inquired and a full-scale search party, made up of all the staff at Ned’s, was sent to recover the missing student.

With no luck after 25 minutes of searching, they gave up, as it was a Saturday, and Marco was presumed dead.

Marco did return, however, a week and one minute later, emerging from the freezer sweaty, shaking, and uttering the words “Get me out of Sned’s…. No not the overcooked lasagna please… I can’t take anymore…. No not again.” He was clearly traumatized by what he had witnessed.

The Strand sent me to investigate.

Marco had gone to Ned’s that night because he was craving a Chocolate Drumstick.

“There was one at the very bottom, and I reached down to grab it,” Marco said. “Reaching for that drumstick was my greatest mistake, driven by greed and lust for the best

illustration

| mia carnevale

flavour of drumstick.” Marco was then sucked into the freezer and consumed by a cold and unbreaking darkness, which he fell through for what felt like an eternity.

“After I hit the ground, I wandered for days, but eventually I came to a spot where I could see the light.” What Marco found next was shocking: “It was Ned’s Café, or at least… I thought it was.” In actuality, what Marco found was a café called “Sned’s.”

Marco refused to speak any more about his experience, so I cut the interview there.

I headed to the E.J. Pratt archives to further investigate Sned’s. What I found there would even scare someone who never really gets scared. According to the archives, hundreds of students have been lost to Sned’s, the evil version of Ned’s. Unlike Ned’s, Sned’s serves horrible overcooked or undercooked food, and only spoiled milk. Most students who visit Sned’s never make it out. The administration covers up these disappearances by claiming the students have transferred out of Vic, but we all know that is false, because no one transfers out of Vic. From what I can tell, the location of the portal to Sned’s changes based on the layout of the café. So next time you see a change in the café’s layout, be on your toes. One wrong step and you might end up in the evil underworld that is Sned’s, and the dark Vic, known as Svic, which is presided over by President Snobbins.

Victoria College Food Services was contacted for comment, but did not respond.

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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 2 OCTOBER 2018

Alright, listen up, I’ve got some shit to say about The Wiggles wilfred moeschter staff writer

I’m an award-winning composer, musician, lyricist, singer, AND actor, so why are people surprised that The Wiggles are my primary inspiration? I mean, listen to “Fruit Salad/Yummy Yummy”—you think some second-rate-amateur 50-dollar-paycheck Kendrick wannabe could write GOLD like that? I was buying October 13 AND 14 tickets for the Wiggles Toronto tour, and boy was I shocked: in the years since these beefcakes blessed my TV, they’ve been REPLACED and DESTROYED. Yikes, did someone say BOUGHT OUT? How have they ruined thee, Wiggles? Let me count the ways: 1. Replacing Greg with some dumb GIRL called “EMMA” or whatever.

I get it—she’s a role model for little girls. But you can’t just waltz in all loosey-goosey and replace one of the world’s most handsome hunks. Not only has she taken Greg’s iconic yellow shirt, she ALSO has a four-letter name, just to take a big ol’ shitteroo in his FACE. Greg’s talent was magic tricks, which is the coolest shit ever. What special skill does “Emma” (if that’s even her real name) have? Let’s check her official Wigglepedia page (which, by the way, is SUBSTANTIALLY smaller than Greg’s). She can sing and play instruments. Oops, so can I. NEXT. 2. Replacing Murray with Simon.

To be honest, I never really liked Murray very much, but that won’t stop me from being a #rideordie bitch when it comes to my sweet boys. Call me when they find a new Wiggle whose beautiful red hair matches the colour of their shirt. Who said that redheads weren’t sexy? DEFINITELY not me.

3. Replacing Anthony with some dumb asshole.

Let me find his name. WAIT. Anthony is still with them! You prove all of the haters wrong, Anthony!! The old Wiggles aren’t dead yet!

4. Replacing Jeff with Lachlan.

Fuck Bruce Lee, fuck Jackie Chan. Sure, they could do kung fu or whatever, but could they be de facto brand ambassadors for Asian hunkiness WHILE managing a 350-to400-show-per-year touring schedule?! Never tried, never should. My boy Jeff was also funny as FUCK. He always fell asleep, live on stage and during the TV show!!!! LOL! Nobody’s seen physical comedy like that since Charlie Chaplin, and even he PHONED IT IN during the ’30s. What does “Lachy” (dumb nickname) bring to the group?

Oh, I don’t know… marrying EMMA and then DIVORCING WITH HER?! This new Wiggles band has got more emotional baggage than Fleetwood Mac and Drake, COMBINED. To summarize, “New Wiggles Era” my ass. Bring back the old boys for October 13 and 14. Put holograms of them onstage. It’s not like a bunch of dumb six-year-olds and one cool 21-year-old are gonna be able to tell the difference. Sorry kiddos, but these HACKS and WANNABES are #NotMyWiggles.

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