The Strand | Volume 61, Issue 6

the

STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 61, ISSUE 6 | 20 NOVEMBER 2018

Varsity Blues? opinions page 7

Vic’s green brick road

Reviving childhood

feature page 8

arts and culture page 11

02 NEWS

EDITOR | NICHOLAS FREER NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

Academic support services for students

Important resources for students during the exam and assignment period michael mejia contributor

Exams and assignment deadlines are fast approaching, and with them comes the familiar wave of stress.

The following will provide students with information regarding services that might help during this time.

Victoria College Writing Centre Each college at the University has its own Writing Centre. These centres offer tutorial services on an individual appointment basis to help you plan and improve your writing. The Vic Writing Centre recommends appointments be booked two weeks in advance. There is a limit of one appointment per student per week. Students can receive help from writing instructors at any stage of the writing process—from topic selection, to planning and organizing, to writing and revising. Instructors can help with any academic papers, including essays, reviews, lab reports, and case studies.

Study Hubs and Peer Tutoring Study hubs are student-led groups held all around campus. At the beginning of each two-hour session, a student peer mentor will assist in creating achiev-

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able study goals for that session. This goal is individual to each student to help with readings, upcoming projects/tests, or regular homework. Study hubs at Vic take place in VUSAC’s back meeting room from 1 pm to 3 pm on Wednesdays. More information can be found under “Tutorial Services” on the Victoria College website or the UofT “Student Life” page.

Vic offers peer tutoring in chemistry, math, and physics. Schedules and room locations can be found online under “Tutorial Services” on the Victoria College website.

Learning Strategist and Personal Counsellors Victoria College offers students multiple avenues to explore when dealing with academic pressure and/or health complications. Learning Strategists are available to help students with issues pertaining to time management, stress management, reading, notetaking, concentration, critical thinking, and planning for tests and assignments. Appointments can be booked through the Registrar’s Office at 416-5854508.

The University of Toronto Health and Wellness Centre (416-978-8030) provides appointments with Vic counsellors (located in Room 122 of the Goldring Student Centre) to deal with any health-related concerns.

Libraries and Old Exam Repository Victoria College houses the EJ Pratt Library and the Emmanuel College Library. Librarians are present to help students with research needs and can be contacted for appointments. There is a large library network through which students can access archives and peer-reviewed articles.

The Old Exam Repository can be accessed online and has exams from previous years for most classes.

These can be accessed through the library portal or through the Arts and Science Student Union page.

The University of Toronto offers other options for specific fields of study. There are help centres for English, Computer Science, Economics, Math, and Statistics. The Philosophy department also offers an essay clinic for students enrolled in PHL courses.

Online tools such as the assignment calculator (accessible from the UofT Library website) can assist in the time management and organizational aspects of projects and papers. Students can input the due date and the type of assignment they need to complete, and the calculator will determine what steps need to be taken in order for the assignment to be completed on time. Another helpful tool is the GPA calculator, which can be found under “Tutorial Services” on the Victoria College website.

| christian hume

Canada postal strike continues Holiday deliveries to be affected

sandy forsyth editorial assistant

On October 22, the Canadian Union of Postal Workers (CUPW) began to hold rotating strikes after ten months of negotiations with Canada Post regarding contract changes. The aim of these strikes is to achieve job security, to end forced overtime, and to obtain the expansion of services that postal workers countrywide feel is imperative to the service that they offer. Most of the 50,000 unionized workers in the country have joined the strike’s picket lines, protesting what they feel are poor working conditions and environmentally negligent practices, and demanding that Canada Post become a place of work that conforms to contemporary ethical standards, especially in rural and suburban areas.

Postal operations have been shut down in over 150 communities across Canada, including postal sorting hubs in the cities of Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver. Striking workers left picket lines out of respect for Remembrance Day, but when the strike resumed, as many as 180 trailers of parcels and other post were left idle in Toronto, resulting in postal delays across the city.

Canada Post itself has mentioned that “backlogs and delay” are to be expected, and there is no end in sight to the suspension of regular service.

After three rounds of negotiations, which have lasted almost a full year, Morton Mitchnick, a “special mediator,” was assigned to the dispute for two and a half weeks, but there is still no sign of a deal being made. The postal union has made a statement claiming that both sides remain “far apart.” Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has warned that the government may be

forced to intervene if the disagreement continues, but has refrained from mentioning any plans for a tangible solution to the problem. In 2011, the Conservative-led federal government forced an end to a similar dispute between workers and management, although this was accomplished in a way that was declared unconstitutional. This decision occurred after postal workers had been locked out by Canada Post for two weeks. The Liberal government under Trudeau may be expected to approach the strikes in a more constitutional manner.

As the holiday season approaches, many have expressed concerns about Canada Post’s ability to handle the annual requirement for efficient postage in December. With more people ordering packages than at any other time of year, and with a vastly diminished workforce, the postal service might struggle to keep up with demand.

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 20 NOVEMBER 2018

Five Days For Survivors, protest held in Queen’s Park Labour equality in Ontario and the effects of Bill 148 and Bill 47 luke zurcher contributor

On November 10 at 4 pm, the 5 Days for Survivors: March for Work Rights for Survivors of Sexual Violence gathered in front of the Legislative Assembly of Ontario to march for the retention of Bill 148, the Fair Workplaces, Better Jobs Act. Bill 148 establishes various workplace rights and protections, including an increased minimum wage, easier access to a greater number of personal emergency leave days regardless of workplace size, ten days of leave in cases of exposure to sexual or domestic violence, and equal pay for workers performing equal work.

In October of this year, Doug Ford’s Progressive Conservative government began consideration of Bill 47, the Making Ontario Open for Business Act. This legislation will repeal significant sections of Bill 148, including a halt to the rising minimum wage, which will be subjected to annual inflation adjustments, and reductions on personal emergency leave days.

Currently, workers employed for a minimum of 13 weeks have access to two categories of leave: domestic or sexual violence leave, and personal emergency leave. For each, employees are granted up to ten individual days of leave annually, with five days paid under domestic or sexual violence leave, and two paid under personal emergency leave.

According to Bill 47, personal emergency leave days will be repealed in order to “establish separate entitlements to sick leave, family responsibility leave and bereavement leave.” Employees under the considered Bill 47 will receive three days of sick leave, three days of family responsibility leave, and two days of bereavement leave annually, all unpaid.

Bill 47 does not address domestic sexual violence leave days.

However, the 5 Days event page claims if Bill 47 is passed, “many of the other rights in the workplace that survivors need such as higher wages, equal pay and control over work schedules are at risk.” Event organizers argue, “We need to link and connect all forms of violence [to] build a strong movement that protects us in all aspects of our lives.”

Katie Bishop, a first-time organizer, created the 5 Days march to draw awareness to the current features of Bill 148 as well as the projected changes of Bill 47. Driven by personal experience, Bishop organized the march when she was unable to access five days of paid leave in her workplace as a victim of sexual violence.

The 5 Days Facebook page says: “We need to push for changes on how Survivors can use the five days of paid leave and expand access to personal emergency leave.”

The page points to the current inaccessibility of personal emergency leave days in spite of Bill 148’s implementation.

The march began in front of the Legislative Assembly of Ontario and travelled south along University Avenue, stopping at the Ontario Immigration building at University and Dundas. Four speakers spoke outside this building: Katie Bishop, a representative for Fight for $15 & Fairness, one working in Trauma Support, and a Consent Educator.

Bishop spoke about the urgency of the issues, discussing her personal experience as a survivor of sexual violence, and the difficulties she faced in accessing the five days of paid leave provisioned by Bill 148.

Fight for 15 and Fairness spoke about the necessity of the rising minimum wage, which in its cur-

rent state keeps a significant number of minimum wage workers living at the poverty line. The speaker discussed the negations planned by Bill 47, which will revert progressions made by the Fight for 15 and Fairness in favour of the employer over the employee.

Speakers for Trauma Support and Consent Education spoke together about sexual and domestic violence. They discussed the time it takes both for personal recovery from violent trauma, as well as for seeking professional help, an option which is not always easily accessible. Further, domestic violence usually involves moving, which can be complicated by family and conflict. All of this can take significant time, resources, and energy, beyond what is provided by five days of paid leave.

Each speaker discussed the difficulties that those who work minimum wage jobs with unsafe conditions still face, despite the enactment of Bill 148 one year ago.

The speakers argued that the negations proposed by Bill 47 will only worsen already difficult conditions and will significantly lessen Ontario workplace safety and equality.

The march concluded at 6 pm with a candlelight vigil for four people who died while employed at Fiera Foods–affiliated factories, one of whom died just this October at a factory in North York, due to unsafe work conditions.

Bill 47 was carried to a second reading as of November 12 and has been referred to the Standing Committee on Finance and Economic Affairs. A November 5 CBC news article stated the bill “is likely to be approved due to the [current] government’s majority.”

The 5 Days march has been one in a string of protests across Ontario that have taken place in the past two months regarding Bill 47.

What’s going on around campus this month?

Meatless Monday’s Vegan Pumpkin Pie Giveaway Monday November 19, 2 pm to 3 pm Sidney Smith Hall Winter has come; it’s dark out by the end of your second class, snow will soon cover campus, but not all is lost— relive the better days of autumn with Meatless Monday’s free pumpkin pie giveaway. At no cost to yourself enjoy desert for lunch at Sid Smith, but get there early as supplies are limited and they’ll run out fast.

Friends 4.0 Trivia Tuesday November 20, 6 pm to 9 pm Hemingway’s Restaurant Did TV reach its pinnacle from 1994 to 2004? Is your grandmother such a Chandler? If yes, then Hemingway’s Friends Trivia night is perfect for you. Comprising three rounds of 15 questions each, the top three teams receive a $100 Hemingway’s gift card. With 25 percent of ticket sales going to a charity selected by the first-place team, not only is it a fun time, but you’ll be helping people too.

Tickets are 8.50 dollars per player and teams can range from 2 to 6 members. Check out their Facebook page for ticket info and how to register your team.

Free Vegan Breakfast Friday November 23, 9 am to 10 am Multi-Faith Centre Wake up and enjoy a breakfast you don’t have to pay for or make yourself! UTSU and the Veg Club have partnered up to bring together a free vegan breakfast for all students who make the trip. A comforting morning feast with warm, delicious homemade food! Not only is there food, but tea will be served as well! Gluten-free options are available.

The 146th Bob Revue: Legalize the Bob Friday November 23 and Saturday November 24, 8 pm Isabel Bader Theatre Canada’s longest-running sketch comedy show is back.

You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, there’ll be music—it’s a good time all around. At 7 dollars for students and 10 dollars for adults, there’s no excuse not to go. Tickets will be available at the door, as well as for purchase in advance at the VUSAC office, Goldring Student Centre.

Wildlife Photographer of the Year Saturday December 1, 12 pm to 5 pm Royal Ontario Museum Beginning December 1 and ending March 31, the ROM presents an exhibition which displays the Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition’s winners and category finalists. The works call attention to the beauty and fragility of life on this planet. Whether you’re a nature lover, aspiring photographer, or simply love a perfectly captured moment, this exhibit will allow you to explore nature, wildlife and the very best of nature photography.

Holiday OCAD Artist Alley Tuesday December 4, 2 pm to 8 pm OCAD University As Christmas fast approaches, there’s no gift so well received as something handmade, unique, and creative.

Luckily, you can buy something that checks all of those boxes at OCAD’s art sale. The event is free to attend, but if you want to purchase anything, bring cash! There will be posters, prints, zines, stickers, ceramics, and more!

Support local Toronto artists this year—attend OCAD’s Holiday Artist Alley.

Acta Victoriana Launch Party Sunday December 9, 7 pm to 10 pm Mây Cafe Celebrate with Acta Victoriana, Vic’s literary journal, as they release their 143th edition of the publication! If you enjoy prose and poetry, this is a perfect event to celebrate the end of classes and a good break from studying for exams.

The launch party will feature readings from contributors and is held in the Mây Cafe on Dundas Street West—a Vietnamese inspired café and bar.

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| luke zurcher

04 EDITORIAL

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

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stephanie bai, maia kachan, arin klein, michael mejia, wilfred moeschter, max nisbeth, avery schwarz, hasaan sobaan, anna stabb, aloysius wong,

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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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Fast fashion is rampant in our current consumer climate, so it can be hard to maintain equitable clothing consumption practices. Between low-cost manufacturing, the constant availability of consumption through online shopping, and the never-ending turnover of streetwear trends, I’ve had moments where I feel trapped in a frenzy of low cost trend seeking. Everybody wants to look good! But once the hype cycle turns former favourites into wasted space in your closet, it can leave you wanting a total revamp of your wardrobe. This turnover is ultimately the goal of fast fashion, as it keeps us spending—but it also creates a lot of unnecessary clothing waste. To avoid this, I’ve tried to cultivate a personal style that can last beyond seasonal trends. Buying recycled clothing and spending a little more for materials that are made to last helps, too. In the long run this has been extremely rewarding. I’ve now created my own wardrobe, built from one-of-a-kind pieces that stay around long enough to gather their own story. Who knew keeping clothes out of landfills could feel so good?

—Noah Kelly Like most students, I often consider myself to be severely lacking in self-motivation. I do, however, like to think that I care about the environment—hence why I once came very close to vegetarianism. The meat-centric diet of so many cultures is known to be detrimental to our efforts to conserve environmental stability, so I chose the route of only eating locally-sourced meats at every opportunity, and sticking to salad otherwise. My food purchases directly emphasized my wish to be environmentally friendly. Unfortunately, now that I’m living in residence with a meal plan, I worry that any attempts I make to change the mass production of meat-centred meals in Burwash will be highly individual and amount to very little. My motivation has failed me once again. It’s easy to say that we need to eat less meat to reduce emissions and improve our personal health. The problem is that, ultimately, changes need to be made on an institutional level, and I just don’t see the Big Mac being eliminated from the international diet any time soon.

—Sandy Forsyth Starting at UofT, I faced a nasty combination of factors— no friends and way too much time on my hands. I turned to YouTube, thus introducing myself to the materialistic world of “clothing hauls” and “look-books.” I wondered, if I dressed like them would my life work out, too? So I shopped online. A lot. I made excuses for myself: “If other people are shopping, why can’t I?” I quickly discovered the answer to

this: I was blowing through my savings and still had way too much time and no friends. My packages would arrive and the products looked much worse in person than they had online. I still wasn’t happy. As obvious as the moral of the story might be, it was a hard one for me to learn. Buying things as a way of coping and in hopes of connecting with others was not the solution I needed. This outlet was proving to be detrimental, and in the end, I met a lot more people by closing my computer and getting out of my room. What a surprise!

—Amelia Martinez-White Self-care is a buzzword among students, and especially as exam season lurks around the corner, self-care practices should be called into question. Feeling terrible? Go buy a face mask or bath bomb. Stressed about all those assignments you put off until the last minute? Buy that sweater you’ve been eyeing online; you’re going through a lot and you deserve it. Self-care has shifted its focus from necessary actions of care to a “treat yourself ” mentality. While I love a good impulse purchase when I’m feeling overwhelmed with sheer existence, centering self-care around consumerism limits who gets to partake in it and discredits its meaningfulness. Taking care of yourself is more than buying cute stationary and drinks; it’s getting enough sleep, answering messages that have been piling up, getting dirty dishes out of your room, or even some mindless doodling. It’s not about indulgence, it’s doing whatever is best for maintaining your well-being. While self-care is different for everyone, neither spending money nor being Instagram-worthy are requirements to participate in it.

—Abbie Moser When I moved into residence in first year, I forgot to bring cleaning supplies. When I moved into my first apartment this year, I did not bring toilet paper, pots, sponges, steel wool, oven burner liners, dish soap, hand soap, olive oil, compost liners, spices, or dryer sheets. Going out and buying all those things that I had always taken for granted marked a huge step towards my economic independence. I spent my own money to make a house that was my own. I used to just have olive oil and sponges, but now I find myself buying olive oil and sponges, and I like them because they’re mine. Before I bought things that I wanted, like clothes or knick-knacks, to show who I am—now I buy things that I don't want so much, like compost liners, that show who I have become.

—Miranda Carroll

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Articulating panic Wading through panic disorder without words georgia lin opinions editor

Content warning: anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of physical distress Breathe. In and out, but I can only seem to inhale.

My body rises in anticipation to expel anxiety-ridden air, but it is never given the opportunity. The only rise and fall we’re allowed is my forehead banging itself on a wooden dining hall table, my fists scrunched against my bed frame, my knuckles cracking one another until they’re out of noise. Sometimes, I don’t know how to breathe. My breathing works both in tandem with, and viciously against, my anxiety, a dichotomous wrestling match that hasn’t taken a pause in six years. I’m told to stop, to be happier, directly after you’ve successfully convinced me I’m someone with poor judgement and character. In the single-user bathroom of a passport renewal office, I clutch my phone as I dial my best friend, answering only with shallow breaths and a rocky tone.

She does not need words to know my state.

Cry. A gentle descriptor, one that does not contain the multitudes of wailing involved when I’m tangled in an unintelligible sparring match of Mandarin versus English with my family. When I am wailing without pause, when the only bodily movements I can make are gasping or clawing at something to grab onto, I cannot tell you why. It is sometimes out of sadness; it is mostly out of a need for expression. For something to ruin my skin, for my eyes to become bloodshot, for my head to shake. You leave my room exasperated, tell me I’m overreacting, and call me ridiculous. I cry into my pillowcase, my blue eyeliner leaving a streak on white cloth, waiting for dryness.

Pull. My hair is stronger than I am. In sixth grade, my friend would tug my ponytail as far back as she could and comment gleefully to anyone in earshot on the playground, “See, it doesn’t hurt her!” I learned to hide my pain early. The dull ache of my elastic fighting against my scalp seems forgiving nowadays, when I yank on chunks of hair I was never allowed to dye as I struggle to breathe, cry, and speak at the same time. I’m chastised for damaging my hair, for sacrificing brain cells, for not listening when you yell. Our conversations end up in knots, replicating my twisted fingers in the hair that has never left my head during an attack.

She does not waver.

Shudder. Periodically, I try to stop biting my nails. I usually end up ripping my cuticles instead, and vice versa. When I breathe, cry, and pull my psyche apart, it manifests on my forearms; I run thin lines down my skin with scarce nails to visualize the distress I cannot translate. I wrap myself up in layers of duvets on a shining July afternoon, curling myself to occupy as little space as possible, even in my own bed. You bound me with criticism and call to order the marathon of worries flitting around my mind, stretching to the corners of my toes and the bottom of my trundle bed. The faded pink marks from my nails morph into an angry red with the steam during a shower, and I am reminded that I desperately need a cleanse. I shake because I am afraid to say these words aloud, to speak things that would negate lies ingrained in my body, and would likely result in successive prolonged moments of fear.

My fingers swallow the unverbalized pains I keep hidden in my nail beds.

Rest. I carry a water bottle with me to mitigate panic.

Only within the last year and a half have I learned how to seek solace in others. I was taught breathing techniques, given mood trackers on paper, and had the basics of my disability explained to me when I previously thought I needed panic to survive. Panic was a frequent companion; every time I enter my childhood home in Canada, I brace myself for its return, one that renders me to float without feeling—forcing me to inhabit only distress. Spirals are to be expected, whether they happen after a string of mishaps that led to crying on the linoleum floor of a back stairway in December without a jacket, or needing to clutch onto an almost-stranger’s warm cardigan so I don’t end up scraping my head against the brick wall in an unfamiliar province. You care little, if at all, because you can ignore my panic.

Coping and curing are not equivalents, nor do I require the latter to continue with my days. Panic has not left me, and I hesitate to wonder if it will ever leave my body.

I’ve always apologized for panic. I’ve excused taking up others’ time and craving their comforting words, for needing reassurance during and after an attack through a phone conversation where the receiver cannot provide much more than their understanding. Panic is like my pulse: I know it’s there because I’m alive, but it tricks me into thinking I can be less than alive. Panic is not (or no longer) an unmanageable demon, but I no longer want to keep apologizing for the bouts of mania and twisting anxiety that my disorder proliferates. Trying to put panic into words is not for the benefit for the ones who have harsh mouths and demand my regrets; it is an attempt at collective understanding and seeking out neurodiversity.

illustration

| mia carnevale

06 OPINIONS

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Conscientious consumption How to sustain sustainability

meg zhang contributor

Let’s face the facts: we love to buy stuff. In our rapidfire day and age, it is all too easy to buy stuff. Realistically, we’re not going to stop our material consumption.

But we know that the ice caps are melting. We know about deforestation, factory farming, and labour rights infringement. It makes sense to practice sustainable consumption, but we have difficulty sustaining sustainability. How do we think of sustainability as a longstanding investment rather than just as a passing fad?

Everyday practises 1. Homemade lunches Not only does making and packing your lunch reduce single-use plastic, it can also be cost-effective and healthy.

Buying staple ingredients is cheaper than the single servings that come with takeout. You also know exactly how much salt, sugar, and oil you’re adding to your meals.

2. BYOB(ottle) Reusable water bottles and coffee mugs are great for the environment and for your wallet. Why spend money when you can take advantage of drinkable tap water and fountains around campus?

3. BYOB(ag) Now that many supermarkets charge for plastic bags, you may as well invest in a couple of reusable ones. Tote bags are multi-purpose and often quite fashionable.

4. Take a hike If it’s a five or ten minute drive, opt for a slightly longer walk or bike ride. This is very feasible for city slickers (and often far less frustrating during rush hour).

5. Read the label When it comes to packaged processed foods, companies are legally obligated to specify the ingredients and nutrition information. Once you get in the habit, it only takes

a minute to read the labels and learn exactly what goes into the stuff you buy. If you want cruelty-free cosmetics, look for the label on the packaging.

What’s next?

1. Shop locally During the warmer months, pay a visit to a farmers’ market. Not only do you reduce waste (especially if you bring your own bags!), but you also support Ontario farmers.

If you eat meat, eggs, and dairy, this practice is far more sustainable than purchasing factory-farmed products.

2. Forgo fast fashion A quick Google search will tell you just how heinous chain retail stores can be. When it comes to Zara, H&M, and Forever 21, clothing usually deteriorates after a few washes. Clothing drives will not typically accept heavily frayed or irreparable clothing. Regularly purchasing and discarding clothing is a nasty cycle that depletes your wallet and adds to landfills.

3. Support green and ethical corporate and state initiatives Individuals must urge companies and governments to make sustainable changes. In May 2018, Vancouver passed the Zero Waste 2040 Strategy. The city hopes to significantly reduce the impact of single-use items and intends to ban certain items (plastic straws, Styrofoam food packaging, and free grocery bags) by 2021 if businesses fail to meet reduction targets.

Realistic drawbacks and realistic solutions 1. The need for speed Drawback: Realistically, weekly meal preps can take hours. If you share a kitchen with several roommates, work on the weekend, or care for dependents, you may not have enough time in your week to prepare three meals every day.

Solution: If you can’t meal prep for an entire week, try to make enough dinner to last for tomorrow’s lunch. If you do eat out often, look into bringing reusable cutlery.

2. “Speciality” ingredients Drawback: You can buy bulk ingredients like rice, beans, and pasta or produce at farmers’ markets in the summer.

What about “speciality” (read: foreign) spices, sauces, or vegetables that just aren’t available at Bulk Barn? (I am partial to Chinese pickled bamboo shoots.)

Solution: At the end of the day, it’s about reducing unsustainable purchases. Try to look for specialty supermarkets that sell these ingredients in greater quantities.

3. Budgeting boundaries Drawback: Big-name retail shops have sales that can be very affordable. It feels good to find something in style that fits you perfectly and costs very little.

Solution: Consider investing in sustainable everyday items. The second-hand clothing at vintage or thrift shops can be great staple pieces (plain t-shirts, skirts, jeans, leather jackets), and are usually considerably cheaper as well.

4. Social hindrances Drawback: There’s nothing quite like grabbing fast food after a late night with friends or popping off to the convenience store to buy snacks for a study session.

Solution: You don’t have to cut out these experiences completely, so long as you recognize these moments as treats.

5. The daily commute Drawback: If you live in the suburbs and commute to work or school, you might rely on your car. It’s far more time and cost effective than walking, biking, or public transportation.

Solution: This one can be really tricky and you need to be realistic. Look for other areas in your life to reduce your carbon footprint. (Consult the suggestions above!)

Ultimately, it is more about gradually changing your perspective on consumption than it is about swiftly cutting back. Normalize everyday practices, strive towards bigger goals, and be realistic.

How do you learn and unlearn in a small class setting?

Reflections on my One program hasaan sobaan contributor

As an “alumnus” of a One program, I should start by saying that having an immersive small class experience in first year really helped smooth my transition from high school to university. It allowed me to develop closer relationships with my professors by getting to know them more personally, and it helped me meet some wonderful, brilliant people along the way. Looking back, I doubt that the bumbling mess of nerves that first year Hasaan was (and, I suppose, second year Hasaan continues to be) would have been able to form the close friendships that he did, had it not been for the small class sizes. It was easier to turn to the person in the desk next to me and strike up casual conversation—an experience that was galaxies away from the intolerable, near-asphyxiating sound of hundreds of laptop keyboards in my other first-year classes.

One of the main academic selling points of small class sizes is the flow of ideas, though the flow was not always bi-directional. Starting school at UofT was perhaps one of the most anxiety-inducing experiences of my life, and the transition, though helped in some ways by the social and relational

payoffs of small classes, was not the smoothest. The crushing anonymity that I felt, which I’m sure others also feel among the tens of thousands of incoming students, is difficult to shake. This depersonalization often leaves first-years dazed, disoriented, and, yes, depressed. That feeling, in my experience, is often exacerbated upon the realization that many of your peers are just as academically accomplished as you are, if not more so. It tricks you into thinking that perhaps you’re not really all that deserving of your admission letter, and that UofT isn’t really the place for you.

Now, when you take all of that confusion and self-doubt—the sense of being set adrift with no one there to help you steer back to shore if the waves get too rough—and concentrate it in a class of 20 bright, charismatic 18-year-olds, it makes you question your self-conception in ways that you never have before. Suddenly, your thoughts are either unoriginal or unintelligent, and you can’t really express them properly because your speech is garbled and nonsensical. The way people look at you when you begrudgingly force yourself to say something (after all, participation is worth 25 percent of your final grade) is now a mix of second-hand embarrassment and silent signals begging you to shut up.

In so many ways, small class sizes amplify the anxieties of first year and provide an often uncomfortably intimate scale for social comparison. These nerve-wracking experiences can cause small classes to produce the opposite of their advertised intent; instead, their environment can end up stifling ideas rather than encouraging intellectual discussions. This is particularly true for students who are struggling with the transition into this next stage of their academic lives. Being forced into a small space in which measuring myself against my peers was a nearly unavoidable consequence made me excruciatingly aware of the spaces that exist in and between conversations, and often made me rethink whether making contributions would at all be meaningful.

So, where does this leave us? How can we make small classes more comfortable and inviting spaces for more students? To be honest, I’m not sure.

What we can all start doing, however, is checking in on our classmates and being more conscious of the different conversational dynamics that often form early on and persist indefinitely, both in small classes and in our social spaces, to make more students feel welcome and able to share their thoughts in educational settings.

OPINIONS 07

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 20 NOVEMBER 2018

Is this what they mean by Varsity Blues?

Experiencing SAD and the winter blues on campus anna stabb contributor

“VERY REAL THREAT for Friday snow in Ontario. BRACE for conditions to QUICKLY deteriorate.” The Weather Network’s website shared this advice on its daily forecast following a week of grey November days. Posted beside it: an ad for flu shots featured a bright-eyed couple beaming like they just vanquished the flu with the power of young love and puffer vests. This combination of marketing and weather hyperbole seems to be the norm these days, but in this case, it has a personal dimension: the line “BRACE for conditions to QUICKLY deteriorate” depicts a common state of mental health that many, myself included, experience during the winter months.

We are all prone to “feeling a little blue” during this time of year. The shorter, colder days coincide with heavy course loads, essay deadlines, and the threat of looming exams. The darkness, the chill, and the mounting school pressures naturally bring on stress and a yearning for warmer days. But for some, these blues are more deeply biological. The eve of winter can trigger anxiety, reduced concentration, lethargy, fatigue, and a desire for isolation that makes it difficult to leave bed, let alone submit assignments. This more visceral response to win-

ter weather is known as seasonal affective disorder (SAD) and can be severe and debilitating. Although SAD is often used to explain the winter blues, only 3 to 6 percent of people experience the disorder’s symptoms, which are caused by a lack of sun disrupting their internal body clock.

That’s not to say that only those with SAD or depression suffer during the gloomy winter months. Runners miss the chance to jog in slushfree parks, extroverts lose their energy when friends cancel plans to avoid the cold—all of our circadian rhythms are off. I lose touch with mindfulness once the season changes. My mind, body, and energy fall out of sync and I struggle to make sense of why I feel the way I do. To fight isolation, I find myself reaching for comparisons. Friends are stressed because of school—that must be why I’m feeling down. Everyone hates the rain. Look, another post about self-care; maybe I’ll feel better if I do more yoga. Acts of self-care such as eating healthily and exercising are helpful, but for some they are not enough. For those who find that the winter blues significantly deteriorate their mental well-being, physical activity or spending time with friends means temporarily burning off their anxious, depressive energies only to have November clouds soak them up and use it as fuel to expel on the next grey day.

Students often feel isolated by their body’s response to the changing season and feel trapped in a cycle that takes a toll on their school work, social lives, and self-worth. Since Toronto winters can drag on for months and many international students are unfamiliar with the harsh climate, the university community needs to recognize the biology behind SAD. Common forms of self-care fail to treat the consequences of internal body clocks being out of sync; we need to emphasize that experiencing these symptoms is not a lazy character flaw and raise awareness about the helpful treatment options (such as light therapy lamps) available to students at Robarts and Toronto Public Libraries.

The Weather Network updated its headline.

The new version reads: “PLAN AHEAD: ‘Potential TROUBLE’ for Friday travel in Ontario”—a welcome reduction from the doomsday melodrama and a useful warning message for those who can feel down in the absence of blue skies. There is trouble ahead and, while we may not reach the level of ecstasy and joy of the romantic flu-fighters in the flu shot ad, we can plan ahead. We can look to self-care for feeling more in tune with our mental well-being and we can fight isolation by caring for each other. When that is not enough, we can at least understand that there is science behind the winter blues—not a failure of mental capacity. photo

| hana nikcevic

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | REBECCA GAO FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

Vic's green brick road Where your food waste goes from here stephanie bai contributor

The life of a tray in Burwash is cyclical. It starts off stacked in the racks, idle, until it is lifted and weighted under piles of plastic plates, cups, and cutlery. Globs of food and cups precariously full of Coke slide around on the tray as it’s set on a table next to a napkin dispenser that reads: “Vic Food Services promotes locally grown foods” and “100% recycled paper means less impact.”

Then, it’s dropped onto the conveyer belt, rolling past three posters proclaiming statistics like: “40% of food produced in Canada goes to waste,” and “20% of Canada’s methane emissions come from organic waste in landfills,” and “250 billion cubic meters of water is used to produce wasted food globally.”

The tray then navigates the tangled belt to reach hands who scrape leftover scraps into a green compost bin and unburden it from its plates, cups, and cutlery. It plunges into the soapy depths of the dishwater, is dried, and then is carted back up to its racks, idle once more.

The three posters by the conveyer belt are the only ones in Burwash reminding students about the impact of the food they throw out. They

hang where students leave.

Ajay Sharma, the manager of hospitality services for Victoria University for the past three years, wants more posters. He asked VUSAC’s Sustainability Commission* for them last month. He would like to put them “just where the pick-up trays are,” he says. That way, it can be an earlier, more effective reminder to students.

“It’s just a matter of awareness,” he says. “It becomes very difficult on our part to tell students to not eat as much or not to take as much.

All we can really say is, ‘All you care to eat’ rather than ‘All you can eat.’”

Awareness is one essential step in combatting food waste. But food waste cannot be reduced to such a simple solution. According to a 2014 CBC report, food waste accounted for approximately 31 billion dollars lost, with individuals wasting approximately 14.6 billion dollars’ worth of food annually, accounting for 47 percent of the food’s total cost.

According to Dr. Tammara Soma, a PhD graduate from UofT in Planning and the previous Food Equity Coordinator at New College, food waste spans beyond singular definitions and impacts.

“It’s what I would call a wicked problem. Wicked problems are basically complex problems that really touches on all of the social, environmental, economic type politics,” she says.

What happens to food waste at Vic? The tray’s leftovers are scraped into the green compost bins, 35-gallon containers that are used for all of Burwash’s food waste.

With ten to 12 compost bins in circulation, each able to hold approximately nine standard four-inch-deep pans of food, Burwash throws out approximately three to four bins of waste each day. That totals a maximum of 140 gallons of food daily.

The food thrown out is the food that can’t be reused. This includes the food left on trays, in the pans on the serveries, or during preparation in the kitchen. “Whatever is being in service upstairs, to be honest, that should not be saved, [because it] is out there and open. It’s not safe to save,” Mr. Sharma says.

This means that aside from the food wasted on trays and scraps from kitchen prep, Burwash throws out a maximum of two pans per item served each day, as that’s the typical number of pans per dish out on the serveries.

“Sometimes we are very close to running out [of the dish],” he says, “so there is nothing.”

At Ned’s Café, another arm of Vic Food Services, the same process with compost bins happens, according to Mr. Sharma. However, as it’s a café where students are not required to dine in and leave their trays, there is a greater chance of unaccounted leftovers being found in a landfill.

The plastic containers that Ned’s sometimes serves food in are yet another source of waste.

“With students buying in packages, it’s a little bit too much,” Dr. Soma says. “It’s beyond what they can eat, and then what ends up happening is there’s that double burden: there’s food waste that’s happening, and there’s packaging waste happening as well. So portion-sizing is also something that can be addressed.”

There are also biodegradable plastic utensils available for people on the go—but that doesn’t prevent students from using them when dining in.

In addition, students can clear their trays and trash into different bins to separate their waste. This is practice is similar to the one used by Vic Food Services, where people have to separate their own food waste into categories like garbage, recycling, papers, and organic.

However, that often means contamination occurs. People can haphazardly toss their coffee cups into organic bins or their banana peels in the recycling, making some green initiatives a moot point.

According to Greg Seljak, the co-president of UofT’s Environmental Student Union, contamination has become an issue on campus.

“It’s not a big secret that the garbage/paper recycling/container recycling/compost bags in the SMC meal hall (Canada Room) all go into the garbage,” he writes in an email. “It’s usually the students who fail to sort their own waste, and the mixed waste must go in the garbage for safety purposes. I would expect that this is the same practice at all of the meal halls on campus.”

FEATURES 09

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 16 OCTOBER 2018

What does Vic do to combat food waste?

Beyond just compost, the food on trays in Burwash is also often a reincarnation of past dishes.

According to Mr. Sharma, food re-management is instrumental to Vic Food Services’ sustainability philosophy.

“Say you are left with two or three pans at the end of the night,” he says. “We would rapid-cool it down, and we will save it in the fridge, mark the date, and maybe then again give it a new twist … or add some vegetables, or add a different kind of sauce—serve it like an Asian style —and you can use it.”

In addition to this, log books are also kept. Each page is divided into three sections: Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. Each chart underneath the sections has spaces for the menu item, the ingredients, quantity made,

yield, amount left over, and any additional remarks.

Mr. Sharma keeps these to track trends with certain dishes and time periods. This affects how Burwash adjusts its portions to the demands of students.

For example, during an average week, 50 to 60 lbs of pasta is cooked per day. When Mr. Sharma checked the recorded trend for Reading Week in November 2017, he saw that Burwash had only 60 percent of its regular weekly attendance. Consequently, he dropped the average portions of food cooked from 100 percent to 60 percent this Reading Week. Instead, only 30 to 40 lbs of pasta was cooked.

“We want to minimize food waste,” he says. “We want to maximize the experience.”

How can we improve?

Just because food is composted does not mean that disposing of it is an innocent action. Although it’s one of the greener methods of disposal, it requires energy, resources, and money.

“A green bin is no excuse to say, ‘Oh well, I’m putting this whole sandwich in the green bin, so I guess I’m doing something better,’” Dr. Soma says. “Prevention is always the key.”

Since the food thrown out nominally comes from prep, leftovers, and pans out on the serveries, reducing the amount untouched means that the best solution for prevention is simple: eat.

This is easier said than done. To engage students in dining hall food that many don’t enjoy, and to engage students in discourse about sustainability, means that students need to take smaller portions and actually enjoy the food.

For students to take smaller portions, there needs to more awareness and education about the necessity of doing so. Three posters hanging over the conveyor belt is too late of a notice; there need to be posters near the serveries for more immediate reminders to students. More events should be hosted by the university to discuss food waste, or incentives can be cre-

ated to discourage throwing out large quantities of food.

Next, for students to actually enjoy the food and eat it, there needs to be better communication between Vic Food Services and students.

Though there’s a suggestion box for complaints or requests, according to Mr. Sharma, out of the 400 guests for lunch and the 500 guests for dinner at Burwash, a maximum of ten suggestions can be found in the box per day. At Ned’s Café, only a maximum of five are submitted.

To combat this, more suggestion boxes should be set up at each table, so students can voice their reactions to the food more immediately. This streamlines communication and allows Burwash to adjust to foods that guests like more and will eat.

For students, reducing waste is purely beneficial. Our thousands of dollars in meal plan money fund the food served to us.

“When you are cutting down your waste,” Mr. Sharma says, “you’re definitely saving.” *VUSAC’s Sustainability Commission could not be immediately reached for comment. illustration

| yilin zhu

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | TANUJ ASHWIN KUMAR SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

The scourge of single-use plastic avery schwarz contributor

“Single-use” is the Collins Dictionary 2018 word of the year. Scientists have predicted that by 2050 there will be more plastic than fish in the oceans.

Disturbing images of sea creatures choking on or being strangled by plastic garbage have helped convince many of us that plastic pollution is an important problem. Citizens, politicians and public relations firms are talking about and realizing that our global dependence on single-use plastic is unsustainable. But how serious is this issue, and are we collectively doing anything significant to reduce our dependence on a material that is poisoning our planet?

For decades, single-use plastic has been a cheap, attractive, and omnipresent material seen as an indispensable part of our day-to-day lives. It packages almost every grocery item, takeout food, daily coffee, and retail purchase. But recently, public opinion has shifted drastically against this material. As people become more aware of the disastrous consequences of our love affair with single-use plastic, it is all too clear that this unsustainable habit must stop.

Over 330 million metric tons of plastic are produced annually around the world, despite our lack of infrastructure to process this amount of waste material. Most single-use plastic is not recycled, so most of our plastic waste enters the landfill, or worse, the ocean. Roughly eight million tons of plastic enters our oceans annually with disastrous consequences for the health of the ecosystem. The Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a massive floating island of plastic, has grown to an area that could cover France three times over. Every shore in the world is littered with plastic garbage. Over one million seabirds and over 100,000 aquatic mammals are killed annually because of plastic entanglement or consumption. More alarmingly, plastics do not biodegrade; they instead become secondary microplastics, plastics that are broken down by light into small, sometimes microscopic pieces, but that never fully biodegrade. These microplastics permeate every surface of the planet. They enter low on the food chain when they are mistaken for krill and phytoplankton by fish, corals, sea-mammals, and birds. As the low-level consumers are eaten by larger fish, who are in turn eaten by bigger and bigger predators, the amounts of plastic biomagnify, reaching dangerous levels in top predators. As we view the catastrophic effects of plastic on aquatic ecosystems, we can only wonder how microplastics are affecting our own health. Recent studies have found that we are consuming significant amounts of microplastics from eating fish as well as other animal products. To make matters worse, plastics are made using fossil fuels, seriously contributing to climate change.

Many countries around the world have taken action to reduce or halt the manufacturing and distributing of single-use plastic items. The European Union has committed to phasing out throwaway plastic including single-use cutlery, cotton buds, straws, stir-sticks, balloon sticks and plates by the year 2021. So far, 32 countries around the world have implemented some form of bans on plastic. Nearly half of these countries are African, where harsh penalties have been put in place. For example, in Kenya, anyone found using, producing, or selling plastic bags can face up to 4 years in prison or a 38,000 dollar fine. While this seems drastic, in recent years Kenya has become overrun with plastic bags which have clogged their waterways, often causing serious flooding and providing breeding grounds for mosquitos, resulting in serious malaria outbreaks. Other countries, such as

India, implemented a ban on plastic bags as early as 2002, as cows had been dying from plastic ingestion. China followed suit in 2008, banning plastic bags, a measure which has reduced plastic bag waste in China by 60 to 80 percent. Ironically, during the time China imposed the ban on its own citizens’ use of plastic bags, the country was taking in half of the world’s plastic waste. In January 2018, when China announced it would no longer be the world’s dumping ground, few countries were ready to recycle their plastic waste material locally. Most of the stockpiled waste is predicted to go to landfills and incineration plants and several million tons will likely reach the world’s oceans.

A few progressive Canadian cities such as Montreal and Victoria have banned some single-use plastic such as bags and straws; other cities and provinces have proposed similar legislation. On a national level, we are lagging behind many other developed countries and are not meeting our global commitment to ocean health. A few federal initiatives have made some small changes, such as a ban on microbeads in January 2018 after the beads were officially declared toxic. Catherine McKenna, Minister of Environment and Climate Change, said during a recent news conference: “We can't just be talking about what everyone else needs to do.

We need to be taking action.” Although intentions seem good, thus far, Canada does not have a comprehensive national strategy. Given the ready availability of plastic alternatives, a country that prides itself on environmental responsibility must take more concrete steps to tackle this issue on a federal level: if microbeads can be declared toxic, so can plastic in general.

Public pressure has convinced some firms to commit to reducing their plastic waste. For example, Ikea will stop using and selling single-use plastic products such as straws, plates, cups, freezer bags, garbage bags and plastic-coated paper plates and cups by 2020. Companies such as Coca-Cola, PepsiCo, Nestle, and Evian will use only recycled plastics by 2025. Greenpeace ocean campaigner Emily Hunter warns against this “industry-led false

solution” for “tackling the scourge of plastic pollution in our oceans.” Using recycled plastic will not prevent the end product, from making its way to the ocean. A better solution would be to use another material altogether. Plastic pollution has become such an unmanageable problem that many experts believe that responsible plastic management should be legislated. Mark Butler, the director of Halifaxbased Ecology Action Centre, says, “Voluntary is great, but we need mandatory [action],” further stating that “if it can’t be recycled, we shouldn’t be using it.”

What can the average person do to tackle this seemingly insurmountable problem? As discouraging as the statistics may be, there are small actions we can all take to significantly reduce individual plastic use while waiting for slow-acting legislative change. Simple things such as bringing your own shopping bag, packing reusable containers for lunch and beverages, and requesting no straw, cutlery, etc. when ordering will make a small difference but will send a powerful message. If enough people refuse single-use plastic, other individuals and businesses will see that consumers are willing to prioritize the environment over a little convenience.

Government action is crucial: there must be a shift in how governments view corporate responsibility to reduce waste. If many companies have already reduced their dependence on plastic, it will be easier for government to legislate change. Putting pressure on businesses and governments does not require a great deal of time. A ten-minute email or, better yet, a phone call to your city councilor, MP, or MPP to encourage them to take action will add to the pressure environmental groups are putting on the government.

Though slow-acting, the political system can work if its citizens see themselves as agents of change and refuse to be apathetic. The next time you are asked if you would you like a plastic bag, think about the fossil fuels used to produce a bag as well as the decades it will take for each bag to break down into toxic microplastics that will enter and never leave the food web.

photo illustration

| tanuj ashwin kumar

| rehana mushtaq

ARTS AND CULTURE 11

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 20 NOVEMBER 2018

Reviving childhood On aging, nostalgia, and Netflix revivals

illustration

| katie doyle

rebecca gao features editor

Growing up, I was obsessed with the Archie Comics.

I was obsessed with Betty and Veronica’s feud, all the minor characters like Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and the art style. As I got older, however, I began to phase the Archie universe out of my life. It was partly because my parents insisted that I stop being an obnoxious kid who read 1000-page Archie anthologies at the dinner table, and partly because I realized that maybe, for some intangible reason, I was getting too old for Archie and the gang. This happened, slowly but surely, to many of my literary and artistic childhood companions.

It’s odd to think about exactly when it stopped being okay for me to like certain types of art—is there ever an appropriate time to age out of, or age into, art? Rather than express my love for characters and stories that shaped my childhood imagination in an earnest and sincere way, I talk about art that I loved as a child in nostalgic terms. It exists only in the past tense.

Recently, however, there’s been a huge shift towards nostalgia in art and media, especially on TV. Many TV shows revive stories and characters that were popular years ago and try to capture the same magic. Though this isn’t a new phenomenon—people have been reviving old stories since there were old stories to tell—it feels as if there is an oversaturation of revivals. From my beloved Archie being revived in Riverdale, to Gilmore Girls getting a final season with A Year in the Life, to The Magic School Bus revival starring Kate McKinnon: it’s as though all TV writers have had the same nostalgia trip.

While revisiting old stories and characters is a

lot of fun, the easy commodification of childhood nostalgia makes it hard for new stories to be told. By leaning heavily on reimagination rather than imagining new stories themselves, showrunners and writers tell stories that they know will be easily consumed and enjoyed—and that will help them to profit.

These reimagined characters that were so beloved in their original forms are reproduced en masse because they aren’t risky. These characters and plotlines have been tried and tested by others before.

When showrunners and TV writers do choose to take liberties with their revived characters and make them their own, however, their insistence on making them more “adult” and “modern” tends to mean making them sexy and dark. Take the Netflix/ CW show Riverdale, which reimagines the characters from the Archie comics as contemporary teens solving crimes. Despite the fun elements of Riverdale— the bingeability, the amazing outfits, and gory murder—the show relies heavily on the sexualization of teenagers and intense violence and crime. Gone are the campy antics of the Riverdale gang I grew up with. Instead, the new Riverdale showcases an Archie that “got hot” over the summer, a Betty who “goes dark” and pole dances, and a town that I do not, for one second, believe was ever non-violent. Yes, teenagers have sex and explore their sexualities, and yes, all towns experience some sort of violence, but Riverdale’s insistence on these elements in order to update and modernize the story ultimately implies that the characters and storylines from the past cannot exist in 2018 without some degree of sex and violence.

The grittiness of Riverdale and other contemporary movies and TV shows is often used to signal to the audience the relevance of the media they are

consuming. To me, it seems a little weird. The overwhelming dark aesthetic and explicit objectification of teenagers, especially when coupled with characters that were so precious to me as a child, doesn’t signal, to me, adulthood or modernity. Instead, it makes me question why this version of Archie is the version I’m meant to enjoy as an adult. The equation of darkness and negativity with adulthood is something that I can’t quite buy into. Updating characters to make them fit into 2018 shouldn’t simply be about giving them a libido and a gun.

There are moments, however, where Riverdale uses the characters and setting in interesting and new ways to explore themes and tell important stories that weren’t in the original comics—and those are the most compelling and valuable parts of the show. For example, the subplot about Cheryl and Veronica being sexually assaulted by Nick St. Clair in the #MeToo era makes the Archie gang relevant and uses the characters’ positions, as socially aware and active teenagers, in a way that respects them as real people, not just as eye candy. That is the Archie gang I loved as a kid.

Though I appreciate shows like Riverdale for bringing characters and stories into my present tense when they had existed only in the past, I can’t help but feel unsettled about everything that updating them may mean. If reviving stories that I loved as a child means making them dark and sexy, I’m not sure I want them. But if updating them was an act of radical reimagination that allowed old characters to explore current issues and topics while retaining their individuality and personhood instead of condensing them into a singular sexual or violent being, then maybe I would feel a little better about growing up and still loving Archie.

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | HARRISON WADE ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

Mirror images

Notes on translation and remakes after Luca Guadagnino's Suspiria harrison wade arts and culture editor

When Susie (Dakota Johnson) arrives at the foot of the grey Markos Dance Academy in West Berlin, I’m certain this isn’t Suspiria. The movie has barely started and, already, something’s off, something’s out of place. A prologue has set the tone: the lead dancer (Chloë Grace Moretz) tells her psychotherapist the academy is run by a coven of witches; televised protests are carried out in the wake of the hijacking of Lufthansa Flight 181; Thom Yorke sings over the title sequence, which shows Susie’s mother dying in bed in the American Midwest. What happened to Goblin’s synth score? What happened to the profound lack of context that made Suspiria feel suspended in a void? The academy’s exterior—a slab of cold concrete—is a tomb. It seals the bright red, open grave that is Suspiria.

Susie enrolls, dances spectacularly for the director, Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton), and is swept into a coven, a space for female collaboration, that has its own political turmoil. The dancers speak English, mainly, but also German and French. Somehow, this too is an anomaly. Of course, it makes perfect, logical sense. The academy is an international dance troupe located in an increasingly porous Europe. And yet, it makes no sense within a hereditary context. Dario Argento’s original film, like much of the supernatural subgenre of giallo, is an Italian production dubbed in English.

All of these layers of language make me wonder if remakes are a kind of translation. They do often involve an element of literary translation, when the remake is made in a different place, in a different language. Here, language moves from an Italian script translated into English to an English script translated into German and French. But there’s also a temporal translation from 1977 to 2018, and a cultural translation, too.

What does it mean to translate an image?

In general, translation is a process that claims to maintain as much meaning as possible in the move from one language to another. Director Luca Guadagnino has said his film is “[an] homage to the incredible, powerful emotion” of experiencing Argento’s film. But an homage is certainly not a translation, so my question seems answered. Perhaps, it was doomed from the start. Images don’t need to be translated. The international film circuit, in festivals, multiplexes, and homes, is a testament to the supposed universality of the image. It’s only language that changes, taking shape as subtitles or dubs. But these forms are not equivalent; subs and dubs are a point of

contention, a conflict of values. In some cases, as with the films of Studio Ghibli, choosing between subs and dubs means choosing between two different movies.

There is always a gap between what is said and what is written. As any bilingual viewer knows, subtitles never capture the nuances of spoken dialogue. When I watch movies in French, I discover omissions and distortions, appropriations and mistakes. Most embarrassing are those translations that try to replace one cultural expression with another. But all of these mishaps are inevitable. Each act of translation is informed by different values, and those values inform which textual qualities are maintained and which are considered expendable.

Maintenance is the purported goal of translation; it does its best to mediate a primary text. In doing so, a translation always acts like an index, pointing back to that primary text. The best translations add something ineffable, whether you call that humanism or an act of approaching difference.

I wouldn’t be the same person without Naomi Lazard’s translations of Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s selected poems or Juliet Winters Carpenter’s translation of Minae Mizumura’s A True Novel. In one sense, my understanding of these texts is necessarily incomplete. Until I can read Urdu and Japanese, I have to hope the translations convey something of what the primary authors intend. In another sense, however, my affective response is complete. Even if these translations fail, they become texts in themselves (and I am aware of how these misshapen texts lead to important questions about privilege and appropriation).

Is my reaction to these hypothetical texts unreal?

In her essay “On Translation,” Mizumura reminds us that the kind of translation we take as natural—translation as maintenance—is historically recent. Religious texts and philosophy have always been treated with this kind of reverential translation. But, at least within a Japanese context, fiction, until recently, was loosely translated at best.

English novels were treated as frameworks for creative potentialities and “fantastic adaptations.” When they were translated, the “translators freely abridged the original, inserted digressions, and sometimes came up with their own endings.” As translation slowly became consolidated after the Meiji Restoration (1868), it brought with it “the notion of text, of authorship, and even of intellectual property rights.”

I’ve wandered a bit from Guadagnino’s Suspiria, but this secondary, historical understanding of literary translation seems to fit a contemporary mode of cinematic remakes. Without reverence, remakes take indiscriminately.

They add and remove scenes and characters, contexts and

settings, and, in their intentional misshaping, make fantastic adaptations.

Perhaps this is the answer to my question of “What does it mean to translate an image?” Without the principle of maintenance, translation is free to trace whatever figures, values, or sensibilities it likes. Historicizing literary translation lets us approach remakes beyond simply judging whether or not they adhere to their primary material. In this sense, Suspiria (2018) is a kind of translation of Suspiria (1977) from one image to another. What is added and what is taken out has to do with the values of the translator (in this case, an entire film crew) and the values of a particular place and time.

Suspiria (2018) translates the plot of Suspiria (1977) by taking it out of its expressive, generic European context and placing it into an American mode. There is no attempt to capture, and thus no value ceded to, the tone, rhythm, or rhyme of Argento’s movie. Instead, Guadagnino’s remake shares the values of our contemporary horror moment. Every narrative detail is explained. Every conflict is mapped out to privilege the viewer’s understanding. There is nothing truly uncanny in these images, no narrative step steeped in ambiguity, even as the remake tries to expand the flimsy mythology of the original. This new Suspiria is half Hollywood and half art house; horror that would rather feign political relevance than give in to its generic urges.

But the translated image always adds, since it exists alongside, rather than in place of, the original image.

Guadagnino has provided space for spectacular performances from Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson, and Suspiria (2018) offers an image of genuine, multifaceted female collaboration. My experience of this remake is invariably informed by the weight of Argento’s film, which caught me at the right time, challenging me to experience sensation without narrative, in deep reds and with an unsettling score.

The joy of these fantastic translations is that they always point back to their original. Suspiria (2018) is not Suspiria (1977); they each offer a different experience. As problematic as American remakes can be, they, at the very least, act as reminders that we can and should encounter movies in other languages, from other value-contexts.

Even if the surge of Japanese horror remakes in the mid2000s was nothing more than an attempt to cash in on an instantaneous demand, it turned me toward Japanese cinema (and Verbinski’s The Ring might still be able to stand on its own). Maybe I was mistaken when I said Suspiria (2018) was a tomb. It’s closer to a spade, covering and uncovering the open grave of Suspiria (1977).

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Review: The Importance of Being Earnest A truly Victorian performance aloysius wong contributor

Going to the performance on closing night, I had no idea what to expect. I have been impressed by VCDS shows several times before, but this was my first time watching one without knowing anything about it beforehand. Suffice it to say I wasn't disappointed—from the costumes and the set to the music and the acting, everything came together for a truly beautiful and unforgettable performance of The Importance of Being Earnest.

As soon as the lights came up for the first act, the skill and expertise that went into designing and building the set were evident. Everything denoted late nineteenth century without seeming forced in the slightest; on the contrary, everything was quite unified. The scene began with Jacob Levitt, who played Lane (and later Merriman), preparing the stage for the arrival of a few guests. Accompanied by music from piano, guitar, and clarinet, the audience was immediately transported from Victoria College to the Victorian era, where the play opens in Algernon’s home.

I was instantly impressed by the main characters. Gi-

anni Sallese seamlessly embodied Algernon Moncrieff, complete with the character’s irresponsibility, bold attitude, disregard of boundaries, and ravenous appetite. I pondered long afterwards how he finished that entire tray of cucumber sandwiches—and later, several muffins—while on stage.

It must be noted that Gianni also designed the costumes, which helped to contextualize the setting and keep our attention on stage. Sylvia Woolner likewise did a phenomenal job of portraying Jacqueline “Jack” Worthing, a smart, serious woman overburdened with societal obligations. It was wonderful seeing her character develop on stage as she grew in confidence and wit leading up the play’s climax.

The interaction between these two and their love interests, Gwendolen (Carmen Bezner Kerr) and Cecily (Kenley Ferris Ku), developed beautifully over the course of the production. One notable highlight was when Gwendolen and Cecily were asked whether they could love Jack and Algy if they, both pretending to be named Ernest, had any other name but Ernest. The comedic awkwardness of those scenes was priceless, as Gwendolen raved about the thrills and vibrations of the name Ernest, and Cecily replied with:

“I might respect you [Algernon], … but I fear that I should not be able to give you my undivided attention.”

Between these key scenes, the supporting roles truly give the play its levity: Lane’s exasperation with his master after his master eats all of the cucumber sandwiches and shifts the blame to him; Lady Bracknell’s (Kara Austria) haughty, meddling, uncompromising attitude and her dislike of education; Merriman’s poor timing; and of course, Miss Prism (Angelli McGuigan) and Reverend Chasuble’s (Leo Morgenstern) not-so-subtle flirtatiousness. All of this rounded out the play and made it memorable. At its core, The Importance of Being Earnest is a comedy, and the unexpected comedic inserts were more than welcome.

Props to the musicians—Jacob Levitt, Dante Camrada, Sydney Chiu, and Emily Erhart—the composer, Morgan Wolfe, and lyricist, Jacob Peng, for the soothing music during scene changes. Kudos to the stage hands as well, dressed also in themed garb, for seamless turnarounds between scenes. And of course, many thanks to Rachel Bannerman for delivering such a fine show to the Bader stage. We are earnestly awaiting the next show.

Review: The Seventh Seal nate crocker social media manager

On Friday, November 2, TIFF had its first screening of The Seventh Seal in its two-month-long centennial celebration of Ingmar Bergman, which runs from October 24 to December 23. I went into the screening just after reading Liam Lacey’s piece on the TIFF retrospective for Original Cin. To make Bergman “relevant to our own times,” Lacey suggests a reimagining of Bergman as a superhero—a reconceptualization so Bergman might fit in with what David Cronenberg deems to be today’s major cinematic trend: the “Man era of movies” (i.e.

Spider-man, Batman, Superman). “Weird, but whatever,” I thought as I walked into the theatre, asking: Why Toronto? Why now? Why Bergman in Toronto today?

Upon re-watching The Seventh Seal, I realized that it is Bergman at his most and least superhero. His most in the way that there is a real supervillain—as horrifying and comedic as they come—in Bengt Ekerot’s personification of Death. As he appeared before Max von Sydow in the canonical opening scene on the beach, I could not help but compare him to Heath Ledger’s Joker, or Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman, or Faith Goldy as herself.

Ekerot’s Death embodies that same unsettling mix of camp and genuine terror that today’s greatest supervillains exude. He should be a joke: he is as eyebrow-less as RuPaul and decked out in a floor-length McQueenesque medieval robe. But like Faith Goldy’s mayoral campaign, despite preposterous appearances, he is no joke, and his followers take him very seriously. If we are imagining The Seventh Seal in the Marvel universe, the supervillain box can be checked off.

But The Seventh Seal is also Bergman at his most pronouncedly unsuperhero. The film’s title comes from the

Book of Revelation—particularly the silence in heaven for half an hour following the Lamb’s opening of “the seventh seal.” Bergman places this silence at the moral and epistemological heart of The Seventh Seal—the deafening absence of the Christian God in a time of societal uncertainty. Set amidst the devastating plague of 13471351, when extremist Christians were compelled to tour the provinces in bands of flagellants, the film asks: “How do we live in a world without God?” In this question, it posits the antithesis to popular superhero films of today:

UPON RE-WATCHING THE SEVENTH SEAL, I REALIZED THAT IT IS BERGMAN AT HIS MOST AND LEAST SUPERHERO. instead of asking when good will triumph, Bergman asks, “What if there is no good?” Even, “What if there is no good or evil, but only the ‘silence in Heaven for about a half an hour’ in the absence of both?”

In these conflicting senses, I think The Seventh Seal echoes the essential cinematic ethos of today as much as it reflects the real world’s painful absence of superheroes.

When only John Tory keeps Faith Goldy out of office, “superhero” status is only superficially achieved. The film is Bergman breaching all realist impulses through the personification of an inevitable human experience, while simultaneously centralizing reality’s lack of superheroes. In a sense, it feels more real than a Toronto where

a white nationalist comes third in the mayoral race.

This tension between fantasy and reality climaxes in the film’s final scene, as the father of the young family of actors—who escape the plague only through the Knight’s (von Sydow) momentary distraction of Death—watches the other main characters being led over a mountain, performing the medieval dance of death. He beckons his wife to show what he is seeing, but she sees nothing, and the film ends with her endearingly mocking her husband’s “visions.” For her, nothing is there, not even a solemn dance into a medieval afterlife; all poeticism in death is merely a product of the artist’s imagination.

Bergman’s intended viewer is left alone with the devastating plague that sweeps across the western coast of Europe. Today’s audience member is prompted to ask, “What is left when the superhero ethos of today’s cinema is swept away? When we leave the hopeful world of Avengers: Infinity War, and re-enter a Toronto with no Robert Downey Jr., what superhuman power are we left with to stop the super-evil power of Doug Ford?”

I am not suggesting that Toronto is deprived of wonderful politicians, because it is not. Thankfully there are politicians like Saron Gebresellassi and Sarah Climenhaga running for mayor. But more often than not, the “supervillains” seem to have the loudest voices, whether it is Faith Goldy’s alarming success in the mayoral race, Doug Ford’s recent regrettable cover story in Maclean’s, or the popular Munk School Debate with Steve Bannon earlier this month. And it is in this undesirable sense that The Seventh Seal seems to “hold the mirror up to nature,” as another late-medieval Scandinavian might have put it.

The Ingmar Bergman Retrospective is playing at TIFF now until December 23, 2018.

Late fall songs for intimate moments maia kachan staff writer

Even though Halloween is over, I’m still psychic, and I’ll keep listening to haunted music for the rest of the year. This playlist reflects the small moments that signal change.

“Clueless” – The Marias “Solstice” – Yeek “For Your Eyes Only” – Madi Sipes & The Painted Blue “BB Song” – Blonder “Violet Days” – Tommy Newport

“World Class Cinema” – Gus Dapperton “A Pearl” – Mitski “Feelin’ Down” – Selmer “Out Of Your League” – Blood Orange ft. Steve Lacy “For the Night” – Princess Nokia “Feelings Change” – Yaeji

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EDITOR | LEO MORGENSTERN STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

Recipe corner: how to make six pounds of butter It’s easier than you think! leo morgenstern stranded editor

Prep time: approximately eight.

What you’ll need: Six pounds of butter (boneless) One pair of dentures, still warm High self-esteem Steps: 1. Count the butter.

2. Carefully place the butter in a dishwasher-safe bowl.

3. Don’t let the baby touch the butter! (This is KEY) 4. Wet the butter until moist. This should take two to three.

5. Scalpel.

6. Don’t forget to breathe; you’re doing great.

7. Oh fuck, you let the baby touch the butter! Now we have to start all over again.

8. I’m just kidding, the baby is safe and sound asleep. Everything is fine.

9. Add walnuts for taste. (Optional) 10. Serve.

Pro tip: be sure to count the butter precisely, or else the recipe won’t work.

Organ of the week: the pipe organ I’ve got a fever and the only prescription is more organs jasmine ng podcast editor

The Ghost of Johann Sebastian Bach He’s here. Somewhere.

The Pipes These tubular bad-boys date back to the third century BCE, which shows just how long humans have wanted to harness the power of the Eternal Scream! These pipes transcend the limitations of the human lungs and therefore evolution.

Church Boy (probably named Franz or something) No pipe organ is complete without a local village boy chained to its base in order to maintain its various and complex moving parts!

The Keyboards Our graphic designer failed to capture the glory of the multiple keyboards (or manuals, as an expertTM would call them). These ivories will never again be tickled to such a degree of perfection as they once were by our God Emperor, Johann Sebastian Bach.

Who is definitely not haunting me.

The Pedalboard This is where your feet go. Wouldn’t YOU like to know what goes on down here, you creep!

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A definitive ranking of Shawn Mendes’ outfits from the “Lost in Japan” music video I- I- I can’t get him off my mind (can’t get him off my mind) arin klein staff writer

1. Yellow shirt 3. Shirtless 2. Bowtie/tuxedo

4. White shirt

7. Suit jacket over yellow shirt 5. Shaving cream

6. Cardigan

8. Bathrobe

*The views and opinions expressed in this definitive ranking are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The Strand.

Gourd of the month max nisbeth associate stranded editor

After a long-awaited and highly-anticipated reveal, we at The Strand are proud to announce that the gourd of the month for November 2018 is...the kabocha. This may be our most controversial pick yet. While it may look like a diseased pumpkin, this Japanese squash is in fact a wrinkly, toad-skinned treasure chest, because it contains a sweet orange centre that is a staple ingredient in Japanese vegetable tempura and soup.

In Japanese, “kabocha” can refer to this squash, the Western pumpkin, or literally any other squash.

Therefore, in order to reduce confusion over this month’s coveted winner, we at The Strand are officially renaming the kabocha squash the “Japanese Shrek Pumpkin.” Get out of my soup!

Keep up to date with The Strand’s social media as we release clues for next month’s gourd.

illustration

| fiona tung

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Oops! We forgot to tell this cartoonist that Ainsley and Sabrina aren’t friends anymore Awkward... leo morgenstern stranded editor

The five worst costumes I saw at Brittany’s Halloween party wilfred moeschter staff writer

Brittany’s Halloween party was a couple weekends ago. I’m a fan of The Office so I dressed up as the three-hole-punch version of myself—funny, funny stuff. Nobody else on The Strand was invited, so, courtesy of me, here’s The Strand’s official roundup of the worst costumes I saw at Brittany’s Halloween party.

5. Tom Hanks Some guy who I kinda know from residence in first year dressed up in a suit and carried a volleyball around with him. It wasn’t even a Wilson ball though, it was a Spalding, which was just confusing. I thought he was doing a Jerry Seinfeld impression, but it was actually Woody from Toy Story??

4/10 4. Blood Some girl was fully covered in red from head to toe—red socks, red pants, red sweater, and she even had a little pointy red hat. Don’t get me wrong, I like the spooky aesthetic of Halloween, but this was just too graphic. Her sweater said “Crayola” on it, I think. Never heard of that brand.

3/10 (too gross) 3. Donna Prima from Jungledyret 3 Danish children’s cartoons don’t usually make it abroad, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw a girl dressed as Donna Prima from the well-known movie Jungledyret 3 – Fræk Flabet og fri. Unfortunately, she didn’t even get the costume right—Donna Prima’s collared shirt has long sleeves, not short. This girl got some flak for “not dressing up” but I know a shitty Fræk Flabet og fri costume when I see one.

2.5/10 2. All-Male Ghostbusters Oh boy! Some first-year guys were invited and I guess they saw the Ghostbusters remake and decided to gender-swap it for a goof (#guypower). Man, being born in the year 2000 is fuckin’ wild.

1/10 1. The Incredible Hulk Undoubtedly, THE WORST costume of the night was Steve McSmith’s Hulk costume. He had a brown vest and these gross ear-horn things. What happened to the greenish hair and purple pants? Has STEVE even watched a Marvel movie?

His Scottish accent REALLY blew it for me—that’s not what Eric Bana, Edward Norton, OR Mark Ruffalo sound like.

0.1/10