The Strand | Vol. 64, Issue 7

the

STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 64, ISSUE 7 | 18 JANUARY 2022

02 NEWS

EDITORS | DREW-ANNE GLENNIE AND SARAH ABERNETHY NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

The search for a new president ROY SHI STAFF WRITER

Victoria University continues its search for a candidate to succeed current President William Robins. A job posting for the position of President and Vice-Chancellor of Victoria University was made public on December 14, 2021 through Times Higher Education. The independent recruitment and consulting firm Laverne Smith & Associates has been hired to select suitable applicants.

Laverne Smith & Associates is composed of five researchers and management staff and five consultants responsible for identifying candidates.

Victoria University has previously relied on the firm to find other executive-level staff, including the appointment of Rev. Doc. Michelle Voss Roberts as Principal of Emmanuel College at Victoria University and William Robins as President of the

University in 2015.

The job posting on Times Higher Education is set to expire on January 13, 2022. According to the posting, requirements to hold the position include “a superior professional and academic profile,” “a demonstrated commitment to students,” “experience or interest in fundraising,” and “outstanding interpersonal skills.” The job posting also states that “the President must appreciate, nurture, and promote equity, diversity, and inclusion.

Previous Presidents of Victoria University have been drawn from professors at Victoria University and the University of Toronto, as well as faculty members from professors and executive faculty members at other universities, including McGill University, McMaster University, and York University. The two most recent Presidents, Paul

Gooch and William Robins, were both faculty members of the University of Toronto prior to taking office.

The new President and Vice-Chancellor is expected to take office in July 2022.

PHOTO | KIM NGAN PHUNG

Where to get boosters and tests How students can stay protected and safe following rapid spike in Omicron cases FALAK NAVEZ CONTRIBUTOR

the St. George campus at Discovery Pharmacy and the Exam Centre. However, appointments at both locations are almost constantly unavailable, On Wednesday, January 5, the province of Ontario a phenomenon which is common across Ontario. entered a modified version of the Stage 2 reopening Alternative options such as Vaccine Hunters plan from 2021 following the rapid spread of the Canada and @torontovaccines on Instagram are Omicron variant of COVID-19. Most notably, great sources for those trying to get their first, gyms have closed, indoor dining has been banned, second, and booster shots. Both resources provide and gatherings of people are now limited to only information about pop-ups and vaccine bookings. five indoors and ten outdoors. Additionally, retail On the Discord server for Vaccine Hunters, many stores and malls are once again operating at 50 people also exchange time slots or alert others of percent capacity. In tandem with limiting social their cancellations immediately. contacts, the Ontario government continues to Like vaccines, COVID-19 rapid antigen tests recommend vaccination, including booster shots. are also unavailable at UofT right now, despite The University of Toronto offers vaccines on the Winter semester beginning. According to the

UTogether site, “U of T’s internal community rapid screening kit distribution remains on hold until further notice due to a lack of supply.” As a result, students seeking rapid tests must keep updated on the province’s pick-up locations, which are set to open soon. There likely will still be difficulty in obtaining a self-test as the province is set to receive 54.3 million rapid antigen tests, 14 million fewer than initially requested.

Given the difficulties of social isolation, it is important to remember that UofT provides some coverage for therapy sessions, and the My Student Support Program (My SSP) can be accessed by both local and international students.

Omicron and changes to campus life MAX LEES EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

As most students are aware, the University of Toronto has once again made changes to ensure the health and safety of students and staff due to the COVID-19 Omicron variant. All in-person classes have been moved online until Monday, January 31, and students have been encouraged to delay their return to residence until after January. However, residences are still open with new restrictions as of January 9, and Burwash Dining Hall has returned to providing take-out only meals. Most employees are required to work remotely until January 31 and will be supporting students virtually, while some spaces, such as certain libraries, remain open.

Before the winter break, the Goldring Student Centre closed for the term on December 16, along with The Cat’s Eye lounge and Ned’s Cafe. There have been no substantial updates so far on how these spaces might reopen. As of the first week after winter break, Ned’s Cafe is open for takeout only and the remaining facilities in Goldring (including The Cat’s Eye) are closed, though this information only pertains to the week of January 10. The Strand reached out to the Dean’s Office for comment about a potential reopening timeline, but did not receive a response in time for publication. Caffiends will be closed for the month of January but is hoping to reopen in early February. Updates on The Cat’s

Eye and Caffiends can be found on their Instagram pages, @viccatseye and @caffiendsvic.

All UofT Sports & Rec buildings will be closed and activities postponed until at least January 26. Memberships can be extended once they reopen or refunded by sending the facilities an email. Online fitness programs are being offered to help students stay active; further updates and information can be found on UofT’s Kinesiology & Physical Education website. The Hart House Fitness Centre is also temporarily closed, but the Hart House building remains open, including the Library, Reading Room, and Map Room.

Some library hours have also changed. The Hart House library is open, with hours posted on their website. Robarts Library and Gerstein Science Information Centre are open at 50 percent capacity as of January 10. E.J. Pratt and Emmanuel Library will reopen on January 17, with hours posted on their websites. As for libraries near Victoria College, the John M. Kelly Library at St. Michael’s College is closed but will resume pickup service on January 10; the John W. Graham Library at Trinity College is closed; and the University College Library is open as of January 10. All library requesting services, including holds, interlibrary loans, scan & deliver, and intercampus delivery will also resume on January 10.

Many supports and services are still available to students. The Office of the Dean reopened virtually

on January 6 and can be contacted by email; the Office of the Registrar & Academic Advising also reopened virtually, and can be contacted by phone or email to book an appointment or ask questions; Accessibility Services continues to provide one-on-one appointments virtually or by phone; and Health and Wellness is open for virtual consultations (students should call first to make an appointment).

Moving forward, students can find general updates at utoronto.ca/utogether, as well as a comprehensive list of mental health supports and services at mentalhealth.utoronto.ca. Although in-person activities are limited, students are encouraged to avail themselves of the virtual services above and to stay safe while making use of the spaces that are available.

PHOTO | KIM NGAN PHUNG

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

Unravelled: A foreign influence campaign is driving anti-vaccine sentiment Researchers share advice on curbing influence

PHOTO | KIM NGAN PHUNG

ADAM LAM WEB EDITOR

One in five Canadians have not received even a single dose of a COVID-19 vaccine. According to observers in the United States and the United Kingdom interviewed by The Strand, a statesponsored influence campaign directed by the Russian government to increase sales of Russian vaccines is a driving force.

Social media users—including University of Toronto students—are often exposed to manipulative disinformation techniques, planting residual doubts about the safety and effectiveness of getting vaccinated, according to studies by public health researchers.

How foreign influence efforts are affecting Canadians The United States Department of State identified these allegations in August 2020.

Their report singles out Canadian website Global Research as a major proponent of COVID-19 vaccine misinformation, with links to the Russian government, which provides a key example of how manipulation tactics work in practice.

Global Research’s Instagram account has over 1,300 followers, while its current Twitter account has over 1,500 followers. In August 2020, the State Department report recorded 279,291 followers on Global Research’s Facebook account and 37,300 followers on its Twitter account, though both accounts have since been taken down. The outlet’s YouTube channel is still active, growing from 35,800 subscribers at the time of the report to around 39,000 today, accumulating over 5,000,000 views across its videos.

A study by the Stanford Internet Observatory— by request of the United States Senate Select Committee on Intelligence to track the activity of the GRU, Russia’s military intelligence service— identified seven authors whose works were published or republished by Global Research under fake personas likely linked to the GRU. The researchers identified these authors as fraudulent by observing the usage of stolen profile pictures, faked contact information, and repeated creation and sharing of content from media outlets associated with Russia’s intelligence agency.

Exposure to misinformation directly leads to reduced intent to receive COVID-19 vaccinations, according to an experimental study published in Nature Human Behaviour by public health researchers who recruited participants in the United States and the United Kingdom.

Dr. Michel Chossudovsky, the founder of Global Research and a retired University of

Ottawa Economics professor, did not respond to The Strand’s requests for comment. In 2017, he denied claims of ties to the Russian government by communicating with The Globe and Mail through a lawyer.

The embassy of the Russian Federation in Canada also did not respond to The Strand’s request for comment. However, in March, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov denied that “Russian intelligence agencies were orchestrating articles against Western vaccines and said US officials were mischaracterizing the broad international debate over vaccines as a Russian plot,” according to a statement to The Wall Street Journal.

Outside of the United States government’s report, The Strand spoke to Bret Schafer, Senior Fellow at the Alliance for Securing Democracy, a nonpartisan think tank.

By developing publicly accessible software, the Hamilton 2.0 Dashboard, Schafer’s research team collected data from foreign government officials and state-run media outlets on websites and social media to summarize official messaging on vaccinations, including Russia’s. Schafer’s team found negative coverage of the Pfizer vaccine

by Russian media outlets, with over 111 Tweets mentioning “die,” “dead,” or “death” in the same message as Pfizer.

A motivation behind the influence campaign is economic competition. Schafer remarked in an interview with The Strand that from his analysis, the messaging of state-backed media outlets have promoted Russian-made vaccines while reducing trust in those produced by Western countries.

“The messaging… has always been that Western vaccines are not safe, [but the] Sputnik safe. But that nuance gets lost,” he said. In fact, these efforts may have even promoted vaccine skepticism within Russia itself, including for Sputnik.

Solutions to curb the effects of foreign influence efforts To discuss solutions to these influence efforts, The Strand spoke with Dr. Jon Roozenbeek, a postdoctoral fellow at the Department of Psychology at the University of Cambridge.

The primary finding with the Cambridge Social Decision-Making Lab is that learning to identify manipulation techniques in advance can best curb the influence on readers who encounter them.

Roozenbeek noted to The Strand that debunked information can lead to a “residual memory of the original misinformation” for a reader to form opinions on. A report he co-authored with Professor Sander van der Linden also found that tribalism can cause communities to immediately distrust fact-checkers, reducing the effects of fact correction after exposure to influencing efforts.

A common manipulative technique, noted Roozenbeek, is to share information that is factually accurate but lacking in context or misleading. One example, demonstrated by Global Research, is to link reports with emotionally-charged headlines about a vaccine recipient dying after receiving a COVID-19 vaccine, with a note on the lack of a causal link between the health outcome and vaccine administration buried within the body of the article.

Roozenbeek remarked that another technique is for a person to create a profile that falsely claims to be a member of a particular social group and then promote extremist points of view to discredit that group. Examples of such groups could include people who support COVID-19 vaccination or restrictions to curb the spread of the virus.

To counter these techniques, readers could be trained on how to identify examples of manipulative techniques. A free video game called “Go Viral!” co-developed by Roozenbeek’s team is one example. The New York Times also published an interactive game on speaking with a person skeptical of vaccination, developed with a physician at the University of Sherbrooke.

The Strand also spoke with John Silva, the Senior Director of Professional Learning at the News Literacy Project, a nonpartisan educational nonprofit, to learn how to speak to people with strong beliefs about vaccination.

Due to tribalism, he noted, a friend might become defensive if you question a source that they trust. The goal is therefore to encourage them to be “open to looking at other sources of information, and being willing to evaluate some information that might call [their] team to question.” He recommended a questioning approach instead of a confrontational one. “It needs to be a back and forth, like, ‘Okay, I will look at your source, you look at my source,’” he said. This could help a friend become receptive to information that can expand their worldview.

Vaccine disinformation can have deadly consequences: these tactics have ultimately led to reduced hospital capacity across Canada, with public health data showing that about half of intensive care unit admissions in Ontario are made up by unvaccinated patients. American data also shows that unvaccinated patients are dying at significantly higher rates. Meanwhile, Ontario— and UofT—is reinstating restrictions as Omicron sweeps across the world. However, by being aware of the motivations and techniques behind COVID-19 influence attempts, readers can better guard themselves against attempts to manipulate their beliefs with misleading information.

04 EDITORIAL

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

I'm feeling (20)22

the

strand V O L U M E

Taylor Swift was right when she said, “We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time”

6 4

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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.

@STRANDPAPER WWW.THESTRAND.CA

KHADIJA ALAM EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Like many, I have a complicated relationship with New Year’s resolutions. Time and time again, I would set lofty goals for myself, only to feel defeated two weeks into the year. Eventually, I stopped setting resolutions altogether. And although midJanuary was no longer marked by disappointment, I couldn’t help but feel that I was missing out on the excitement surrounding New Year’s—the prospect of a fresh start and the endless possibilities that accompany it.

My insurmountable fear of failure kept me from writing down a list of goals I want to accomplish in 2022, but I have been reflecting on what the past couple of years have brought me and what I want to do in these coming months. And I’m trying to focus on the small things in life. I want to call my friends and family more often; I want to stop drinking coffee in the evening and have it in the morning

instead; and I want to continue helping students share stories that are important to them.

I hope that The Strand helps you ring in the new year with this first issue of 2022. In News, Falak Navez and Max Lees provide important information about how Omicron is impacting UofT students. In Opinions, Cory Benson provides a humorous and comprehensive list of what to bring into the new year and what to leave behind. Aayu Pandey’s feature explores the impact of remote learning on the lives of international students.

Associate Science Editor Jasmine Ryu Won Kang highlights the connection between climate change and last year’s extreme weather events. In Arts and Culture, members of The Strand reflect on the best and worst of 2021. And Stranded Editor Victoria McIntyre is, once again, enlisting your help in finding her lost items—this time, they’re her hopes and dreams.

If one of your resolutions

included flexing your creative muscles, earning a print and digital byline, and/or working with the coolest people on campus, you’re in luck! The Strand is accepting pitches for our spring magazine, MIRAGE. Is seeing always believing?

The theme of MIRAGE is an invitation to look closer at what we tend to take for granted.

Consider phenomena such as distortion, manipulation, or false accounts, and how they arise in the self, in relationships, or in society at large. What is real?

How does it become real? And why is it real? On top of that, discuss the shifts in perspective after a mirage is broken. Pitch us your trickiest desert oases, your pillars of light, your lagoons on the highway. Show us, above all, where there is more than meets the eye. Pitches of a few sentences with an estimated word count and a visual request, and/or any other inquiries, can be sent to magazine@thestrand. ca by January 29 at 10am!

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | EMMA PAIDRA OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

IN or OUT? Sorting through what we should take and leave behind in the New Year CORY BENSON CONTRIBUTOR

Happy 2022 to all you lovely students and fanatics of The Strand! With the passing of another year comes the passing of judgment upon it, through the annual cathartic exercise of an In/Out list. For those who are unfamiliar, take it as an opportunity to unpack your personal frustrations and manifest some better feelings for the new year. Or take it a step further and publish those opinions in a student newspaper: really, go wild with it. The practice of an In/Out list is majorly inspired

by The Washington Post, which publishes a pop culture and news-riddled list at the start of each year. But for those of you who can’t afford The Post’s ridiculous paywall, well, you’re stuck with me. Rest assured, none of my Ins and Outs are backed by objective fact. In an effort to stay true to the wise, ancient maxim of “new year, new me,” here are some greetings to the Ins of 2022.

Hello to taking the train instead of smooshing ourselves into endless bus rides, renting cars, and enlarging our carbon footprint with yet another Air Canada flight. This is the year to soak in the journey just as much as the destination by embarking on an eight-hour rail journey to some smaller, less interesting Canadian city (pending restriction and safety precautions, of course). Let’s appreciate those early sunrises, drinking Irish coffees at 7 am, ditching the city for the coast, and all the little things just a bit more.

Hello to fully embracing the things we keep hidden, like that farmer’s tan or the fact that you are an incessant jaywalker. It happens to all of us, so let's just be truthful and acknowledge our irregular tans or occasionally petty crimes.

And to stop being ashamed of guilty pleasures like YA novels. When the employee in Indigo inquires why you’re in the teen romance section… we stand our ground. This book is not a gift for my non-existent little cousin. It’s for me, and I’ll enjoy every single page of this 32-point font novel.

As much as we make our resolutions for what is to come, it’s just as important to wave goodbye to things we’ll leave in our rearview mirrors. Here are some apologies to those we are leaving behind: Sorry Great British Bake Off, but I never quite understood the hype, and I'm officially over the pop-cultural obsession with the British.

I simply do not care what the Queen wore on her holiday to Beckinghamshirebrooke. I don’t find interest in British people whispering over a trifle. For those who agree and need an alternative, I suggest Nailed it! Germany. Now that's some quality European entertainment.

Sorry coconut milk, but you had your chance and you blew it. You could have been the alternative milk of the century, but you seriously fumbled the ball these past couple years. Truly the Skype to oat milk’s Zoom, and it is just too embarrassing to watch anymore.

Sorry binge-watching, but you just don’t give me that same feeling I got in 2007 when I would sprint to the bathroom during a

commercial break so as to not miss the season finale of Law & Order SVU. I mean, we’ve all been there, and I’m nostalgic for it! This is the year to painstakingly stretch that show out for a week and pretend we’re back in the golden age of cable, ‘cause let’s be honest, we have the time.

Sorry (not) sorry for bicycles. Is this a part of my personal vengeance on two-wheeled vehicles after never having learned to ride one and being subsequently made fun of by my peers? Yes. Do I realize canceling an entire mode of transportation is a bit lofty? Even more so, but this is a hill I’ll die on.

Some goodbyes need no explanation.

Infomercials? Absolutely obsolete. QVC has nothing on those Instagram algorithm ads that hear my thoughts and produce links to oddly specific t-shirts. Disney Remakes? If you saw Camila Cabello’s Cinderella, you know why.

Pete Buttigieg had failed me as the Secretary of Transportation thus far (where are the highspeed rail plans, Pete?) and Polaroids are just too expensive in this economy. For fans of Marvel, I genuinely have no reasons besides the fact I’m in the camp of people who simply disdain Marvel. Sorry.

Finally, it’s time to say goodbye to having a sense of security. We’ve been hanging on to a hope for normalcy for far too long and it's time to let go. All we can do is buckle in and get ready for a wild ride. To quote Belcalis Marlenis Almánzar, “It was lovely to have you this year. See you next year…or not...”

Out for 2022: Cheap wine Vests $7 coffees Acoustic music Bicycles Coconut milk 2000s aesthetics Infomercials Standardized testing Polaroids Studio apartments Barstool Disney remakes Vlogging The Great British Bake Off Anklets Utah Binge-watching Justin Bieber Online shopping Studying Pete Buttigieg Marvel A sense of security

In for 2022: French toast SPF 50 Karaoke machines Champagne Jewel tones Seasonal fruit tarts Irish Coffee Pearls Tying gifts with string Ocean air Taking the train Farmer’s tan Separatist movements Sunrise Engraved notebooks Wrap-around tattoos Federal grants YA romance Jaywalking The Pacific Northwest Red Tape Stretching DIY boomerangs Mermaid-core ILLUSTRATION | SHELLEY YAO

06 OPINIONS

EDITOR | EMMA PAIDRA OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Just Look Up

A beginner's guide to New Year's, apathy, and the apocalypse

VISUAL | KALLIOPÉ ANVAR MCCALL MAIASHA ROBERTS CONTRIBUTOR

This year, I turned the TV off before the ball dropped. I knew what was coming: the legion of spectators in wildly impractical eyewear watching the slow descent of a giant metal sphere. Don’t get me wrong—I really do want to believe in the magic of New Year’s. New Year’s is a fresh start, a new beginning, a chance to take your life into your own hands! But this year, I couldn’t seem to conjure that surge of optimism when the clock struck twelve.

Maybe it was the quickly dropping temperature, the looming threat of another lockdown, or the constant barrage of climate disaster news, but the only thing on my mind in that moment was Netflix’s latest feature film, the surprisingly captivating Don’t Look Up. I know public opinion on the film is all over the place— some found it to be on-the-nose and out of touch, while others regarded it as a wake-up call for the ages.

There is one criticism I have about the film: unlike a massive comet, our apocalypse isn’t singular, it isn’t instantaneous, and it isn’t otherworldly. Our apocalypse is climate change: a gradual (but quickly worsening) force that has given humankind ample time to change our destructive behaviour to reverse its progression.

Our undoing is not as overt as a comet, and there wasn’t a sudden and obvious moment signifying its arrival. Our apocalypse arrived silently and without ostentation. My criticism of the movie ends there, however, and many climate scientists actually found their onscreen portrayals to be surprisingly resonant—exhausted and underappreciated, working tirelessly to alert the public just to be told to all but lie through their teeth and tell us everything is going to be okay.

I still remain strangely taken by the film, even weeks after watching it. I think it was the ending that really struck me: no matter what we do now, no matter how advanced our technology gets, it will all end the same way. Countless decisions based on ignorance and greed have made our collective bed, and now we’re all bound to lie in it. While some found the main characters’ final scene— their strained attempt at a normal last meal—to be touchingly bittersweet, all I took away was the profound sadness of a future ripped away by an entirely preventable tragedy.

I watched as these characters calmly accepted their fate, knowing full well that nothing they did now would make any difference at all. They had done all they could and it wasn’t enough.

But they didn’t scream or cry or live out their wildest fantasies Purge-style—they spent their final moments eating green bean casserole while the world exploded around them. I imagined myself and my loved ones doing the same thing, except I know that’s not the way we’ll go. Our apocalypse will be much more subtle.

Briefly optimistic, we watched last year as even the loosest resolutions of COP26 were reconsidered by governments concerned solely with their bottom line. We saw the continuation of deadly wildfires, thousand-year floods, staggering heat waves, and unprecedented weather events.

The unpredictability of these climate events is worse now than they ever have been before, and there is only more devastation on the horizon.

That knowledge alone is enough to paralyze us as we resign ourselves to the fate of a parched and burning planet.

Apathy is a natural defence mechanism—a means of momentary relief from the pressures of

daily life—but it can’t be sustained. Being cynical is a juvenile response to a world on fire, an easy excuse to withdraw from the responsibility of compassion. It’s far too easy to be apathetic in a world so corrupted by the rich and powerful. But a culture of indifference plays an active role in its own demise, creating a feedback loop where people see the devastating future of climate change and feel powerless to stop it, so they sit back and do nothing while it progresses even further. Like the earth-shattering comet Diabasky, this threat is so overwhelmingly real and yet entirely ignorable— provided you choose to operate on a set of facts not bound to basic reason.

However, a culture of indifference hasn’t been widely adopted yet. Countless people still fight tirelessly to do anything they can to stop—or at least slow—the progression of climate change in spite of overwhelming obstacles. Young activists still get up every day and sacrifice their time, income, and emotional energy to their movements.

Organizations still raise and distribute money and resources to those affected by climate change’s devastation. There is no promise of a lull in the disasters, no guarantee of a clean and happy future for our children and grandchildren. Making this future viable is hard work, but as children born into an already burning world it’s all we know.

Things aren’t dire enough yet for a worldwide resignation, and that brings both hope and further challenges. The only resolution I have for this coming year, and for every foreseeable year to come, is that we all realize our ability as individuals to fight back against climate apathy—sharing the load with our friends, our family, and our communities—and keep reminding ourselves to look up.

OPINIONS 07

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

Literary brilliance in YA fiction

Why young adult fiction belongs in the university classroom, and all other spaces where literature is discussed EMILY HAND CONTRIBUTOR

Content warning: mentions of police brutality and residential schools.

As an English major at the University of Toronto, I have read Charles Dickens, T.S. Eliot, William Shakespeare, and numerous other authors whose work is associated with “the literary canon.” I have read written works that are claimed to be some of the greatest bodies of literature ever produced, continuously appearing on course syllabi, reading lists, and BookTok, with flashy headlines about “how to become Rory Gilmore” or “what your bookshelf says about you.” While these works are indeed important and beautiful, I also find them confining. I scramble when someone asks me what my favourite novel is, feeling pressure to produce a title that sounds impressive and intellectual, a title that confirms I belong in this program. I have come to realize that we use the “classics” as an outdated standard to measure the greatness and worth of both bodies of literature and those who read them.

It was not until the third year of my undergraduate degree that a work of young adult dystopian fiction appeared on my syllabus: Cherie Dimaline’s The Marrow Thieves. Dimaline takes readers into a dystopian world set in the very near future, which makes use of Canada’s past and present systems of oppression and integrates them into a setting where everyone but Indigenous peoples have lost the ability to dream. The story discusses the Canadian residential school system and the commodification of Indigenous bodies, but is also filled with resilience, community, preservation of culture, and hope. Dimaline won multiple awards for her novel and it was defended

on Canada Reads 2018. This book sparked some of the most informative and profound conversations I have had in the classroom. Reflecting upon these discussions, it does not sit right with me that many peers, educators, and consumers of novels, though they often enjoy reading young adult fiction, disregard it as being too immature, too cringey, or too simplistic to be defined as “real” literature.

After having conversations about Dimaline’s novel and the various topics it includes, I felt troubled by not only the lack of young adult fiction I have encountered within classrooms on various levels, but by my own unfamiliarity with young adult fiction as an undergraduate student of literature.

approaching these texts for the first time, the feelings depicted are real. Readers are encountering important topics—such as police brutality in Angie Thomas’s The Hate U Give or the residential school system in Dimaline’s The Marrow Thieves— within novels for the first time, at an age when properly understanding these issues is essential.

These books are deeper than a simple “comingof-age narrative,” as they ignite conversation and action through the power of language, leading to empathy, understanding, and empowerment on behalf of the reader. This genre of literature produces brilliance that deserves both recognition and discussion in all spaces.

The gatekeeping of what is defined as “high” literature and intellectual writing is limited to a Western, heteronormative point of view, ultimately confining what literature has the potential to be.

The dismissal of young adult fiction as “easy” or [W]E USE THE “CLASSICS” “blasé” disregards the immense amount of work AS AN OUTDATED STANDARD that is poured into these texts, as well as the effects they have on young and old readers alike.

TO MEASURE THE GREATThat being said, now is an exciting and promising NESS AND WORTH OF BOTH time to study literature because changes are being BODIES OF LITERATURE AND made. I have encountered authors such as Toni Morrison, Lee Maracle, and Madeleine Thien in THOSE WHO READ THEM. my education. However, I feel that more young adult fiction is needed in university classrooms, and all other places where literature is discussed.

My one hope for literary scholarship is that we What I believe is often overlooked in young can escape the confinements of the canon and adult fiction is that it is an overarching genre all incorporate a wider range of literature in all spaces about connection and conversation. Sure, many of where written work is discussed. While it may these books may include a sappy romantic side plot be enticing to pick up a classic novel or so-called or lines that evoke second-hand embarrassment renowned read, I encourage you to think about on the reader’s end, but I think many consumers what and who defines “great” literature. of literature often forget that, for young readers

VISUAL | SEAVEY VAN WALSUM

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | ANNA SOKOLOVA FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

Rediscovering Rediscovering home home

How relationships change for international students when they go abroad AAYU PANDEY CONTRIBUTOR

FEATURES 09

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

For many international students, beginning university during a pandemic has been a transition in installments: while our first year was geared towards adjusting to classes and time zones, our second year suddenly immersed us into campus life.

During my first year, I was an overworked, excited kid who was allowed to stay up past their bedtime as long as they did problem sets with people half a world away. I felt very much a part of UofT, attending virtual office hours with my professors for multiple hours at a time and becoming friends with my math TA; however, my mornings and afternoons were reserved for people who had known me for several years. I would wake up at ten and have steaming milk on the balcony with my mother in Delhi's foggy, mild winter. Even with the pandemic keeping us apart, my friends and I had evolved routines that inevitably required us to be in the same time zone. We did our nighttime skincare together, procrastinated all afternoon because we'd eaten too much food to study, and called each other late at night after everyone's parents had gone to sleep.

I did not get to see my friends or extended family in person before I left for Toronto. All we got were video and audio calls that grew quieter and quieter as the stones that had been lodged in our throats began to settle heavy in our stomachs, leaving us with the sinking feeling that it was true: I was leaving to go halfway across the world.

During the entirety of my flight, I bawled my eyes out every time I listened to COIN sing, “I watched you board an airplane.” But my dramatic desolation quickly dissipated as I arrived in Toronto: I felt like I was finally where I was supposed to be and that I would magically belong. It was true, too—adjusting in installments made certain things easier, like knowing how to write university essays before your friends in E.J. Pratt distract you as you write them. But it also made certain things strange. I had friends in Toronto I’d known for a year, but had no idea how fast they walked or how tightly they hugged. (A grievance of mine on particularly overwhelming days: nobody here hugs properly. They don’t do the squeeze at the end, which is the most quintessential part of making a hug feel personal!)

I knew Toronto as a consequence of the pandemic. I had shamelessly yearned for it from halfway across the world, going on Google Maps and planning the routes that I would take to my classes, to the ROM, and to Kensington Market. And yet, my first time taking the subway alone just made me feel… well, alone.

More than ever, I needed and missed the rituals that I had spent months and years developing with my family and friends back home.

But when we tried the rituals again, they didn’t seem to fit right. My friends had not gone through some of the experiences I was going through. Going and living abroad when you've never lived away from family comes with the frustration of realizing you accidentally went to the more expensive grocery store, and the anxiety of wondering whether you've locked your condo properly. I would talk to friends back home, longing for the comfort they

provided during most of my adolescence. But to me, it felt like they just didn't understand how hard it was to open a bank account alone.

Their (very genuine) sympathy felt like just that: sympathy. People who had known me my whole life, whose fingers I used to be able to lace with mine and feel that everything, everything, in this world was fine, couldn't seem to cure this strange uneasiness. While I appreciated that they were trying their best to help, I felt lonelier than ever each time I hung up the phone.

I realize now that the distance I felt from my friends back home was due to the flux my life was in. Our roles in each other's lives are different now than they were when I was doing online school. For a while, I felt uncertain about what I meant to people and what they meant to me.

It seemed to me, for instance, that my parents somehow always focused on the wrong thing, like fussing about whether I was separating my whites and blues. The whole time, I would be thinking, no, no, I moved and re-moved residences on my own, slept multiple nights without a lamp in my house; I can manage laundry. (A side note: I absolutely cannot manage laundry! I've managed to lose multiple socks in the dryer.)

One afternoon, I took a nap and woke up feeling so peculiarly alone that the buildings through my window closed in on me, and I was overtaken by the urge to call my mother, to tell her that this city was too big and too small at the same time and that it was swallowing me.

Unfortunately, it was three in the morning for her.

It started dawning on me then that my life in Toronto didn’t feel like my own because I was ignoring a crucial puzzle piece. In order to reconnect the components of my life here to my life back in India, I needed to get a better sense of myself. I needed to know who I am independently of where I am. Once I figured this needed to be done, I couldn’t believe how long it had taken me to understand it.

Of course, rediscovering home would include rediscovering myself. Wasn’t finding comfort in yourself—and by extension, finding comfort in new spaces and cities—an inevitable part of growing up?

But it isn't something I had to do alone.

My friends back home and I have bonded over the same struggles and TV shows for years, but not all people grow up learning the same skills.

They don't have to, either. As I started working on myself, I found that I needed my friends— not to walk me through the transition, but to remind me that I could.

Back home, I could tell when something was upsetting my mother by the sound of her feet dragging behind her, and whether my friends were doing okay by how focused their eyes were. Knowing that people around me are doing okay gave me a sense of security that was now missing. In finding tranquility, I realized I wasn't supposed to restore my relationships with my family and friends just as they were before; I had to find different ways to build something new and preserve what I have.

We knew how to handle distance— COVID-19 had taught us how to bounce ideas and jokes off each other in a Zoom call. But how were we to beat time? The times when I

am summoned to group video calls is when my friends at home are unwinding. Their day has passed; there is little else to do, whereas it is a charged afternoon for me.

Due to an awkward time difference of roughly ten hours, long-distance friendship can definitely live up to its “long-distance” title when you realize that people with whom you hung out for hours and spoke to forever are hanging out with others more than with you. I felt a strange kind of guilt when I realized that I was doing that too, be it my first Thanksgiving dinner, Diwali, or numerous times my friends and I sat in the library doing math until Gerstein’s staff had to remind us that the building was closing. When the memories I made in Toronto coincided with busy weeks that my friends from India and I couldn’t coordinate a time to talk, it felt as if I were cheating on people I've known forever.

I am learning to make new traditions with people back home. Our affection grows in new ways, seeing each other achieve grades and jobs and succeeding in ways that weren't possible in high school. We spend time together, but the things we do together are different. On one of my bad days, I pick up the phone to hear my friend gush to me about how wonderful her day has been, how she and her girlfriend talked for hours, and how lucky she is to be in love.

The reassurance that somewhere, someone I love is okay instills me with a feeling of calm.

We even find ways to procrastinate together.

Sometimes, I snuggle in bed prematurely after doing my readings and my best friend calls from ten hours away because he doesn't want to get up. Together, we lie in bed. Together, we drag ourselves to brush our teeth on a video call before he continues the rest of his day, and I collapse into my pillow again.

It's taken me forever to realize that the fear of losing my friends because of distance is unfounded. Instead, there's a very real assurance that I won’t despite the distance.

Where I'm from, nobody really follows traffic rules until they see a police van. Crossing the road is chaotic and downright dangerous; you look right and left and right again, and still pray for your safety on a busy street. In contrast, Toronto's traffic signals are magically coordinated. Red lights are punctuated by the synchronous impatience of pedestrians, car owners, and the occasional cyclist—until we all continue walking in the same direction.

Something about this assures me of a force larger than myself. Time stops for nobody. A city of strangers stops for time together. How my friends and I have readjusted to our dynamic feels like these traffic lights to me: we halt our steps and hold our breaths until the city tells us to walk again. Half a world away, we re-adjust during the rest we get before we're together again.

I had one home when I was younger, and now I have several. In a clichéd moment of truth, it has occurred to me that the world is big, but we are getting bigger. As we go through it, we're making more space for the people worth fighting to keep around.

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | JESS NASH SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

The natural disasters that struck 2021 and their link to climate change VISUAL | AIDA JAVAN

JASMINE RYU WON KANG ASSOCIATE SCIENCE EDITOR

Wildfires, rainfalls, tropical cyclones, and droughts have all made unwelcome headlines in 2021. Areas of Canada and diverse regions around the world have fallen victim to these extreme weather events, causing the loss of lives and livelihoods. However, these were not isolated, one-off events but rather the consequences of a history of climate change that has been amplified by human activities.

Hurricanes are one example of an extreme weather event that has wreaked tremendous havoc on communities in 2021, especially in the tropics.

Hurricanes, also referred to as tropical cyclones, contain a closed circulation system of rotating clouds where wind speeds surpass 74 miles per hour. These weather systems generally begin as low-risk weather disturbances such as tropical waves which generate areas of low pressure underneath them. Combined with warm water temperatures, low wind shear, and thunderstorm activity, a bona-fide hurricane may form as the system moves west towards the tropics, where warm ocean air is sucked into low pressure areas and generates precipitation.

Studies have reported a significant increase in the proportion of Category 4 and 5 storms—the strongest and most dangerous level of storms—which is attributable to anthropogenic, or human-caused, global warming. While the frequency with which hurricanes occur has not increased due to anthropogenic climate change, the intensity of hurricanes certainly has.

Nevertheless, the release of greenhouse gases and the concomitant increase in temperature may play a significant role in the rise in “rapid intensifications”—a phenomenon describing an increase in wind speeds of 35 mph over a mere 24 hours. Rapid intensification has increased by 4.4 mph per decade, which is partly attributed to the natural Atlantic Multidecadal Oscillation (AMO) but, importantly, is also a reflection of the impacts of human-mediated global warming.

That is, natural cycles such as the AMO fail to fully explain the increase in rapid intensifications.

Not only did 2021 witness the catastrophic consequences of hurricanes, but the year’s climate was also plagued by extreme wildfires and landslides. To maintain a low risk of wildfires, the temperature and

soil moisture, as well the quantity of trees, shrubs, and other dry fuel must be kept in an optimal range.

Human-induced changes in climate have disrupted this fine balance, causing both increases in temperature and decreases in soil moisture, contributing to fire seasons that are dragged on for dangerously long periods.

Decreases in soil moisture lead to an abundance of dry organic material, which serves as fuel for forest fires. These conditions are also conducive to the growth and spread of mountain pine beetles, which can weaken trees, exacerbating the increase in dry material already present. Models reveal a direct and quantitative link between temperature increase and the extent of wildfires—an increase of 1 degree Celsius per year would correlate to an increase in burned area by almost 600 percent in certain forest types.

Wildfires are not only destructive on their own but can also lead to other disastrous events down the line, including landslides. Hillsides left barren after wildfires and devoid of roots from trees which normally stabilize forest debris are now especially susceptible to “giant debris flows”—massive sweeps of soil and rock.

Moreover, this period of sensitivity to debris flows lasts for one to three years after a wildfire.

Increases in average temperatures caused by anthropogenic climate change have led to more extreme wildfires, leading to spikes in the numbers of landslides, especially in mountainous areas. Landslides are particularly prone to occur after rainfall—a concerning observation, considering that anthropogenic climate change has also exacerbated extreme rainfall events.

This slew of catastrophic weather events has inflicted great human and financial costs on geographic areas interspersed across the globe. Canada has been no exception: when regions of British Columbia experienced rainfalls of unprecedented intensity in November, thousands of residents were forced to flee their homes and at least four casualties were recorded.

The financial cost amounted to nearly $7.5 billion from infrastructure damage. Kamloops, on the other hand, experienced record temperatures of over 40 degrees Celsius in the summer of 2021, as well as ravaging wildfires that followed, causing a mass displacement of residents.

In other areas of the world, hurricanes and droughts have also inflicted substantial costs. In late August

and early September, the Category 4 Hurricane Ida swept through multiple US states, leaving more than one million people without electricity in Louisiana.

Hurricane Ida ultimately inflicted a total of 95 casualties and an estimated financial damage of $65 billion. In regions of East Africa, severe drought conditions have slashed the livelihood of crop producers and diminished water availability to areas already experiencing high levels of food insecurity. These trends were not new to 2021 as Kenya had experienced dry seasons for the past several years, and they are likely to persist and intensify in 2022 as carbon emissions will continue to rise alongside average global temperatures.

These extreme weather events in 2021 have left governments scrambling to deal with the human and financial damages already inflicted. However, more funding should also be allocated to preventative strategies and strengthening infrastructure in communities most vulnerable to these climate events. Contending with the reality that these extreme weather events are likely to occur again in 2022 and in future years, some government officials such as Kamloops Mayor Ken Christian are calling for efforts to build emergency centres to house residents when temperatures reach dangerously high levels.

Other preventative approaches that should be taken include the protection of coastal communities through the restoration of wetlands, as well as the building of protective dikes and the implementation of wildfire prevention measures.

Canada is among the top ten carbon emitters and has been playing no small part in exacerbating the warming of the climate. This changing climate, which is especially pronounced in the northernmost region of the country, is bound to affect the intensity and frequency of the natural disasters we now know to be catastrophic. Learning from these disasters, government officials should begin to adopt a proactive approach to avert extreme climate events before they occur, while also providing ample support for the recovery of individuals and communities already affected by these extreme weather events in 2021. With the release of a National Adaptation Strategy later this year, Canadians are banking on a robust climate plan to dampen the impacts of extreme weather events in 2022 and in the years to come.

SCIENCE 11

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

Vaccines versus variants How can we keep up with an evolving pandemic?

JESS NASH SCIENCE EDITOR

As the past year has progressed, it has become clear that we are not living in quite the same pandemic that sent the world into lockdown nearly two years ago.

Mutations in the genetic code of the SARS-CoV-2 virus that causes the COVID-19 disease have created new variants with diverse impacts. In response to the evolution of the virus, our public health strategies have also changed—but how can we expect the virus to evolve in the new year and beyond, and how can we continue to adapt our response?

Variants of concern: causes and responses Of the thirteen named variants of the SARS-CoV-2 virus, the ones you’re most likely to have heard about are those classified by the WHO as variants of concern (VOCs)—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and Omicron.

These are variants that have been proven to cause a significant global health risk. (The Greek letters from Epsilon to Mu are accounted for by former or current variants of interest, which have not been shown to be global health risks, with Nu and Xi skipped).

The five VOCs have had major impacts around the world during the past year. In Canada and other countries, Alpha drove 2020-2021’s massive winter wave. Beta caused outbreaks around the world later in 2021, especially in South Africa. Since its emergence in early 2021, Gamma remains mostly contained to Brazil. The Delta variant became the dominant strain globally as it spread between countries in mid to late 2021.

Finally, the highly mutated and extremely contagious Omicron variant—first identified in South Africa in November 2021—is currently driving a greater spike in cases worldwide than ever before. In Canada, this came in the form of a fifth wave that saw us closing out 2021 with a record-shattering 45,876 new confirmed COVID-19 cases on December 31.

Most of the mutations that make each of these variants so infectious are contained in the gene that codes for the coronavirus’s spike protein. This is the structure that protrudes from the viral particle, giving it its characteristic “crown” appearance. The spike allows the virus to recognize and attach to human cells, leading to invasion and infection.

When a human survives infection with COVID-19 or is vaccinated against the disease, the spike protein is key to creating immunity. After invasion of a virus covered in spikes (infection), or delivery of a small dose

of harmless, isolated spikes to our blood circulation (vaccination), our immune systems learn to recognize this foreign protein and create defenses against it. Then, when the spikes appear on the shell of a virus in the future, our immune systems are primed and ready to attack it.

Until Omicron, two doses of vaccine sufficed to prime our immune systems from VOCs. Though the vaccines remain effective against severe disease, health organizations such as Ontario’s Ministry of Health are recommending additional booster doses to counter Omicron’s immune evasion. With further, similar mutations inevitably lying ahead, it’s becoming increasingly clear that we won’t be through with COVID-19 vaccines for a long time—if ever.

The future of COVID-19 While infection and inoculation both grant our immune systems defenses against COVID-19, SARSCoV-2 can develop mutations that allow it to evade new defenses and infect more human host cells, replicate faster, and spread further. As we upgrade our immune defenses with more vaccines, we might expect that COVID variants capable of surviving our vaccination efforts will become meaner, more infective, and more severe than before. So, does fighting back mean backing this highly mutable virus into a corner, until it turns into a super-disease that can’t be stopped? Is it possible that our well-intentioned vaccination campaigns will backfire and take COVID-19 from a pandemic to an extinction event?

Put simply: not really. Firstly, viruses rely on their hosts generally staying well enough to be around others, lest transmission becomes impossible; an overly aggressive mutant would be unable to propagate if it was confining most of its hosts to bed. Secondly, there are basic biological limits to viral transmissibility, replication rate, and virulence. Thirdly, some immunity-dodging mutations could carry evolutionary drawbacks; for instance, infection with multiple spike protein mutants could eventually give our immune systems the ability to recognize a wide range of spike proteins, providing much more robust immunity for us down the line.

So, no—we aren’t looking at an apocalypse or an extinction event. Nor will SARS-CoV-2 die out completely. More likely, we will see COVID-19 become an endemic disease, persisting in a stable state with outbreaks occurring every now and then.

Opinion is mixed on what the specifics could look

like. Outbreaks could resemble seasonal influenza, respiratory syncytial virus (which primarily affects young children), other seasonal coronaviruses, or even the measles. The rate of SARS-CoV-2 mutation could require updated vaccines every six months or every five years, and inoculation once or 80 times in a human’s lifetime. The disease could be clinically mild or severe, and the phenomenon of “long COVID” (a chance of long-term effects in the brain, heart, or lungs) may change, too.

There’s a huge range of possibilities—it all depends on the mutants that emerge in the future. If Omicron and its mutant “children” continue to reign supreme, some evidence suggests that the pandemic could be milder in its respiratory attack and cause lower individual risks of severe illness or death. However, much remains unknown about Omicron, and it’s impossible to know whether its dominance may be usurped by yet another new VOC. PHOTO | ARTEM PODREZ What we can do Much of the virus’s future is up to chance, but some of it can be influenced by humankind. Though a lot has changed in the past year, the single most important way we can combat COVID-19 is the same as it was in 2021: mass vaccination. Unfortunately, vaccine inequity between wealthier and lower-income countries means that the virus has a huge playground (in the form of about 40 percent of the world’s population) to gain advantages in the evolutionary arms race. Global governmental failures to clarify and implement consistent, effective public health measures and guidelines have also taken a toll, providing more space for the virus to mutate freely.

Promisingly, though, the cheap, patent-free CORBEVAX vaccine newly developed in Texas will soon be available in millions of doses in India and possibly other countries. More vaccines remain in development. Furthermore, as calls for patent waivers mount, it’s possible—though not necessarily likely— that larger vaccine developers could have a change of heart.

Despite the challenges presented by inequality and inefficiency, there is hope for the future. Though it’s impossible to say for sure where COVID-19 is headed, we do know that the pandemic in its current form will not last forever. And if you’re looking to do your part to speed up the process, there’s one clear step that all of us can take: get the vaccine.

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

Illness and escape: blockbuster release during Omicron Ticket sales for a superhero movie surged alongside the emergent variant ILLUSTRATION | NATALIE SONG

SAM ROSATI MARTIN CONTRIBUTOR

As worldwide positivity rates for the Omicron variant rose in December, Hollywood enjoyed its most lucrative period since the beginning of the pandemic. SpiderMan: No Way Home is the first movie since COVID-19 to gross over $1 billion USD. It is already Sony’s most successful film. The box office success of Spider-Man indicates that franchise and blockbuster movies will return to the pre-pandemic model of exclusive cinema release, leaving the dual releases of many COVID-19 era movies behind. The contribution of Spider-Man’s massive marketing campaign and budget cannot be understated, and it’s likely that commercial success in theatres will only be available to movies made by massive, established corporations who can afford such large-scale productions, further unbalancing an already stratified industry. Amid this resurgence, the popularity of sensational and fantastical movies during a mass death event can also elucidate the relationship between illness and escapism.

Other films have fared poorly. For example, The Matrix: Resurrections performed abysmally, failing to break even. Spider-Man is an outlier, notwithstanding its release during the rise of the Omicron variant.

What is it about Marvel movies that reverse the trends of reticence and avoidance which have characterized the reception of big-screen productions during the pandemic? It must be more than the breathless, frenzied drama of this high-budget production, its connection to an expansive, intricate cinematic universe, or the allure of Tom Holland and Zendaya’s performances—although these were certainly influences.

Rather, emphasis should be placed on Sony’s decision to release Spider-Man: No Way Home exclusively in theatres, a decision which can only be understood as calculating and indifferent towards the safety of viewers. It’s no surprise that a company like Sony is willing to exacerbate a mass death event to garner profit. Over the course of the pandemic, people have been forced to risk their wellness in the service of profit in many industries. What’s notable is how Marvel and Sony presented this movie as both topical and fantastical, leading to even higher attendance.

Personally, sci-fi and fantasy genres allow me to feel

a vast and intimate range of emotions because they are so distant from my reality, so unreal. With unfamiliar worlds and characters, I can engage with emotions and ideas that might otherwise hit too close to home.

Often, these genres move me in ways that more realistic media fail to accomplish due to the latter’s proximity to my life. Genres such as sci-fi and fantasy gain a kind of clarity from a distance, a clarity which allows for catharsis. But, if you wish, they are designed so that you can simply enjoy the story and the excitement without too much care for the world beyond the glow of your screen.

I’m not personally affected by superhero movies in this way, but I think that for many, the modern superhero film works in a similar manner. Whether you’re moved by catharsis or excitement, superhero movies are often marketed as fascinating novelties and familiar tales at the same time. You enter a universe with its own kind of logic: a self-contained, explicit world. Superhero movies have recognizable plots—a beginning, a climax, a resolution. They end. Violence is expressed literally, with an explosion or a fight scene.

Still, even though you know what you’re going to get, the appeal of a new superhero movie is often what you haven’t seen before, even when you’re already familiar with their formula.

Such is the promise of the superhero movie, and is bolstered by CGI, A-list celebrities, sound effects, and an exciting score. As spectacular as superhero movies can be on the surface, they fundamentally offer a chance for emotional release—for the viewer to escape from their world, immersed in the story and blanketed by the knowledge that whatever reaction the film elicits takes place not in the real world but in the story, under the cover of darkness in the theatre.

It’s no surprise that people went to see Spider-Man in greater numbers than other films. Whatever you think of superhero movies, there’s no denying their cultural impact. The sheer magnitude of the Marvel franchise furthers this impact: every movie is a piece of a larger narrative, and missing a movie means missing out on much more. To see all the stories is to understand one story, and to see a new movie, you need to have watched them all. Matters aren’t helped by cliffhangers in the movie trailers and post-credit scenes, a characteristic of many superhero films.

This movie is important to people, and Sony knows

it. That’s why Spider-Man’s in-theatre release, though it should inspire anger, mostly just saddens me. At this point, it would be counterproductive and cruel to moralize and moan that people shouldn’t be packing movie theatres, or that they should wait until months after the release when the film is finally available to stream. Escapism and fantasies are important to people, especially now. Some might even argue that these things are necessary to the human experience. And the movie is available in theatres. This is not a moral issue—it is the result of the capitalist cultural industry of entertainment that purports to provide an escape from world issues, while being an essential contributor to them.

Spider-Man: No Way Home takes place on an earth free from a deadly illness. Just as the characters are not beholden to the pandemic, the film studios acted as if they, too, were living in a world without COVID-19.

But when one fantasy is joyous and the other perilous, it becomes harder and harder to separate the two and parse the escape from the illness.

ILLUSTRATION | SEAVEY VAN WALSUM

ARTS AND CULTURE 13

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

2021 (The Strand’s Version) The Strand reflects on a bittersweet year THE STRAND STAFF CONTRIBUTORS

We learned a lot about our colleagues here at The Strand this year. Mainly that, as much as we are all Swifties, none of us are Maguire stans. No, seriously: we asked.

67% of our team prefers Garfield and the remaining 33% loves Holland as Spiderman; none picked Maguire. Don’t get us started on Jake Gynecologist either—you already know where this team’s loyalties lie. 58% of us are in favour of Gynecologist erasure, and the other 42% watched All Too Well.

The rest of 2021 was up for debate: Favourite meme?

“The bimbofication of _____” - Abi, Associate Opinions Editor “Material Gworl” - Rion, Associate Arts and Culture Editor “Couch guy” - Jiwoo, Social Media Manager “The dual-mood bus meme” - Roensa, Associate Copyeditor “Bernie and his mittens” - Sarah, News Co-Editor “The ____ urge to ____” - Janna, Arts and Culture Editor “Little lad who loves berries and cream” - Max, Editorial Assistant Best TikTok recommendation?

“I do not have TikTok (I’m not like other girls)” Faith, Senior Copyeditor “Hello from the Hallowoods” - Kieran, Editorial Assistant “The entire unofficial Bridgerton Musical album” - Jiwoo “Sea shanties!” - Roensa “My Tiktok feed is just full of people skiing and hiking in better, prettier places so I guess the recommendation here is to move far far away and become a forest fairy :)” - Victoria, Stranded Editor Best in-person moment?

“Just getting to see my classmates in person” - Abi; Faith “Being able to work in a real lab!” - Kieran “None of my professors recognizing me on campus.” - Rion; Seavey, Illustrations Editor “When I got to meet some of the members of The Strand in person for a meeting!” - Jiwoo “The entire quad sang happy birthday to someone at the start of the year” - Max

Best movie?

Turns out most of The Strand team loves Andrew Garfield: “Spider-Man No Way Home!” - Abi; Adam, Web Editor “Tick, Tick… Boom!” - Kieran; Kelsey, Photo Editor; Victoria; Sarah Worst reopening/lockdown plan?

“Texas banning mask mandates….. c’mon sweaty, we need masks!!!” - Faith “When they wouldn’t let stores sell ‘non-essential items’” ??? - Abi “STAY À LA MAISON” - Seavey “Stage Grey coming after Stage Red” - Rion “Shutting down indoor dining and gyms as if that will do anything at all” - Jiwoo “That time Dougie tried to instate lockdown police-checks” - Sarah Worst moment you thought was a fever dream but actually happened?

“Jan 6 riot at the Capitol. Like wtf…” - Faith; Victoria; Sarah “Ford telling ppl to “stay home” in 22 diff languages (badly)” - Abi “The woman in Quebec who walked with her husband after curfew and her defense was he was a doggie” - Seavey “NFTs being a thing that exists” - Kieran “Canada running out of maple syrup…” - Rion “When the ocean was on fire” - Jiwoo “North Korea banning laughing for 10 days cause like???” - Janna “Mark Zuckerberg's Metaverse video” - Max Best album?

“Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish” - Faith “Planet Her by Doja Cat” - Abi “MONTERO by Lil Nas X” - Seavey “Red (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift” - Rion; Roensa “Call Me If You Get Lost by Tyler, The Creator” Janna “L.W. by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard” - Max

ILLUSTRATION | YOON-JI KWEON

A piece of Vic: Creating opportunities instead of chasing them How the GLAM club was founded LIDIIA TULENKOVA CONTRIBUTOR

At the end of my first semester at UofT, I came across the job description of “museum curator.” The position’s combination of research and academic activities—paired with creativity and the ability to make ideas come true—looked extremely compelling. I noted down the entry-level qualifications to get my foot in the door of curatorship and began to build my skill set.

Several months passed as I volunteered, built initiatives, and wrote publications. I felt confident enough in my candidacy for at least the smallest position in the smallest museum. The time to apply for internships in the sector came and… I unexpectedly faced the barrier of a hidden political mechanism that discriminates against international students in the museum industry.

Let me elaborate. Most museums operate as non-profit organizations sponsored by the Canadian government.

This sponsorship comes from taxes paid annually by Canadian citizens. Because international students do not pay Canadian taxes, museum internships are only accessible to Canadians. This system operates under the Young Canada Works (YCW) program, where there is no space for nonCanadians. Thus, this “search for work experience-museumsYCW-government-taxes-Canadians” circle creates a hidden, discriminatory system that prevents international students from gaining experience in the field. When it comes to the job market, anyone is welcome to apply for a museum curatorship; however, without prior experience in the field, non-Canadians often lose this job-hunting game.

Imagine you are scrolling through job postings on LinkedIn, and a voice in your head is quietly rejoicing: “yes, I have it! Oh, this skill too—and this one! Okay, great, I have to apply!” This enthusiasm is short-lived, however, because you then scroll down to the very bottom of the page and see “this program is sponsored by Young Canada Works. Check your eligibility.” As you realize what this means for you, the voice in your head dies down, something hurts where your heart is, and you close the webpage.

One evening in December 2020, my mother said to me: “Maybe you’ll open a real museum one day.” That night, I wrote ten pages outlining the structure of my initiative. In May 2021, I pitched my idea to the Campus Life Coordinator and the Victoria College archivist. In October 2021, I hosted the first meeting with my team of assistant curators and other invaluable executives of the club I called GLAM: Galleries, Libraries, Archives, Museums.

Tired of chasing opportunities that would never become real, I created my own—not only for myself, but for the entire UofT community. To my knowledge, there were no other volunteer-based clubs that would give students an equitable chance, regardless of their citizenship, to gain real experience in curation, network with hard-to-reach industry professionals, visit exhibitions for free, and connect with like-minded students who have either a general or professional interest in the cultural industry. Thus, I would like to welcome everyone to GLAM. I am looking forward to meeting you, whether it’s at our events, an upcoming exhibition, or @glam.vic on Instagram.

VISUAL | @GLAM.VIC ON INSTAGRAM

14 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

Book it to the library I read 182 books last year and I have some opinions for your 2022 reading STEFANIA KUCZYNSKI CONTRIBUTOR

Picture this: it was January 1, 2021, and I was conflicted about what my reading goal would be.

I’d been in a reading slump for a few years, only managing to get through a few books if I was lucky.

I was always an avid reader, but the university prep in high school left me burnt out. While deliberating on the first day of the year, I knew I wanted to continue reading great books in 2021 without overwhelming myself.

That was true until a friend of mine said they were going to read 80 books. You have to understand, we were always a little competitive. When I heard that, I knew the only number I was putting on Goodreads for 2021 was 100. I was nervous, but after my first semester of university introduced me to new passions and I found some awesome books through the Vic One Frye stream and ENG140 (thank you Professor Mount), I knew that I would read those 100 books.

My goal was simply to broaden my reading: nonfiction, manga, poetry, popular books I kept hearing about, and stories from people with much different experiences than me. I wanted to find people and characters who showed me another perspective and pushed me to keep growing and learning, even when it was uncomfortable. I think if you’re willing to try out new genres, it’s incredibly humbling to read the stories of others. It helps you become more empathetic to people in everyday life.

To start my reading journey, I grabbed some of the books off my shelf and my library card. Many asked how I read so much, and my answer is that I made time whenever I could. Take advantage of your local physical and online library; utilize our university library when possible; or visit thrift stores or online bulk websites. I also tried to pair my physical reads with an audiobook if I felt I was losing motivation or was too busy. There’s nothing wrong with switching up your method of reading if you’re still reading and appreciating stories!

As I started reading last year, many attractive covers and high praises brought books my way. Social media is a huge influence over our reading right now.

ILLUSTRATION | FAITH DONG

Reading and readership is getting popular on TikTok and Instagram. Readers have their own corners on these apps, such as BookTok or Bookstagram, assembling readers with hashtags and algorithms.

Personally, I use BookTok a lot and it influenced some of my reading choices in 2021. If you’ve never been on that side of TikTok, there are a lot of amazing creators recommending books, making skits about characters, and generally discussing favourite tropes and writers.

However, mainstream BookTok is infamous for recommending the same handful of books. Though it’s not inherently bad, it excludes many other amazing books and talented writers, and the same problematic authors or books that perpetuate harmful stereotypes are circulated instead. While I decided to give some of the more popular books a try, I found that sometimes the hype around them didn’t match how I felt after reading the books. I’m still really glad to see so many people reading because they pick up these popular books and fall in love with the worlds in them. But I will continue to advocate for more diverse recommendations within the online community.

It was so hard to pare my list down from 182 and I’m truly grateful for having read so many incredible books. Without further ado, I give you the next best thing: my top 12 books to read in 2022: Know My Name by Chanel Miller – (TW: sexual assault, violence, suicidal thoughts): An incredibly powerful yet heartbreaking memoir about how a woman copes with life after she is sexually assaulted.

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee – (TW: racism, sexism, pedophilia, war, suicide, violence, domestic abuse, substance abuse): A story about several generations within the same family. It’s an immersive read and a study into generational trauma.

Cinder (The Lunar Chronicles #1) by Marissa Meyer – (TW: death, discrimination & bullying): The first book in a series about kick-ass female leads in scifi fairytale retellings. The love story is so cute.

I Hear the Sunspot (manga) by Yuki Fumino – (TW: ableism): A coming-of-age manga dealing with coming out, friendship, and the privileges that come with being able-bodied. It features important conversations about making inclusive spaces for people with disabilities.

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo – (TW: racism): Discusses race in several different spaces, and how it intersects with other issues such as gender inequality and the wealth gap.

The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio – (TW: racism, sexism, abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide, disturbing descriptions, death): An undocumented American shares her experience and the experiences of others like her. I remember crying for a few hours after this book.

Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner – (TW: addiction, abortion, cancer, death (parental), grief ): A heartbreaking memoir about a woman who loses her mother to cancer and tries to find a link back to her culture without her.

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang – (TW: self-harm, substance abuse, genocide, abuse, animal cruelty, rape, death, torture, gaslighting, suicide): Powerful female lead, amazing fantasy qualities, based in political tensions in 20th-century China. It’s the most real depiction of war I’ve read recently.

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim – (TW: murder, death (parental), grief, bullying): A retelling of The Six Swans fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm with East Asian influences and, as always, a badass female lead.

You’re The Only One I’ve Told: The Stories Behind Abortion by Dr. Meera Shah – (TW: sexual abuse, loss of children, abortion): The stories of people who’ve had abortions. Dr. Shah makes sure to include women, non-binary, and transgender voices. This is one of those books that makes you think and encourages empathy.

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black – (TW: bullying, death (parental), harassment, murder, suicide): A powerful female lead in the Faerie realm dealing with being human whilst hungry for power. Features a perfectly timed enemies-to-lovers trope.

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao – (TW: misogyny, mentions of rape, various forms of abuse, alcoholism, gore, murder, torture): Features one of my favourite female leads from this year; it’s an incredibly unique story with robots, Chinese folklore, themes of The Handmaid’s Tale and LGBTQ+ representation.

STRANDED 15

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 18 JANUARY 2022

UNTWISTED: A Twister Tell-All We twisted the brain of one of the most celebrated street artists of this century HELEN HO & DAVIDE SALLESE CONTRIBUTORS

Still riding off the tails of his latest project in Derry, the elusive provocateur took a rare break from painting the town red to paint our ears with interview answers.

He responds politely to our queries regarding the artistic pantheon of his prolific career and more controversial pieces, but his eyes bely where his true enthusiasms lay, darting towards an antique mahogany shelf. The contents of said shelf, which proudly suns itself by the bay windows of his Greenwich brownstone? An astounding collection of classic board games.

“Vintage,” he grumbles to us. “None of that Hasbro shit.

All authentic Milton Bradley.”

Paying half a mind to our question regarding ‘the inherent monetization of artwork by NFT-sympathetic artists and the seeming inescapability of artistic patronage by corporate control,’ the surreptitious street artist begins to rise from his well-worn Eames chair.

“Oh yeah, that shit sucks man.”

He lunges for the largest box from the top of the shelf, and holds it towards us in a suggestive manner. The bright colours dotting the box mimic the primary colours of his attire. Subversive as always, our enigmatic interviewee asks us a question of his own: “Wanna play Twister?”

Before an answer can leave our lips, gently, like a father laying his child to rest, he spreads the polka-dotted mat on his hardwood floor. For the first time since we entered his home, the mysterious dark humourist smiles. “Right foot red,” he informs us, before putting his own foot on the red circle closest to us.

With all fifteen of our right toes firmly planted on red, he requests another spin. Realising we have omitted the requisite referee, Davide asks if he should exit the game to handle the spinning, “No it’s quite alright, house rules, everyone’s in, players spin!”

We perform an exchange: he hands us the spinner, we deliver yet another question. A perfect quid pro quo.

H. In a column for The Guardian from 2006, Charlie Brooker said your “work looks dazzlingly clever to idiots.” What do you think of that?

B. I think that was quite mean and it hurt my feelings, did you spin yet?

D. Right hand yellow.

B. Right hand yellow? Okay, hnnnngh. But yeah, I don’t

think it was nice for Charlie to say that at all.

D. These bright colours remind me of when you painted an elephant for your 2006 exhibition, “Barely Legal”. You were able to obtain a permit, but you still were under fire—mostly from animal rights groups—for animal abuse.

B. I don’t remember that.

He rips the spinner from Davide’s left hand and twirls it.

B. Right hand green!

H. Do you feel that the usage of a live elephant to portray the ‘elephant in the room’ metaphor—regarding poverty—was effective? Some said it felt hypocritical.

B. I don’t know, I’ve done so much for rats and their image. Have you seen my stuff with the rats? They’ve got drills. Nothing about what I’ve done for rats says “animalhater” to me.

H. Right. Left foot… blue?

B. Yay, my favourite colour!

D. Interesting, your emphatic usage of red, white, and black had me under a very different impression.

B. It’s the boy colour? The B in “Banksy” stands for Blue.

D. Hm. Does it also stand for ‘British’?

B. What?

H. What he means to ask is, are you really British?

B. Yes. D. Interesting.

A silence falls over our Twister game. It is obvious that he is far more eager to get his hands on circles than to address our puerile questions. While we are both concentrated on the exact placement of our appendages, our incognito influencer is relaxed. Anyone else would have been hindered by the sweat trickling between their fingers, but he seems to be floating. Decades of playing nighttime games of cat-andrat, nocturnal spray painting while evading law enforcement, seem to have chiselled stamina and endurance into the anonymous anarchist’s well- defined body.

We spin together: Left hand yellow.

D. Would you… hnng… say that Twister has honed your artistic assets in any way? Or vice versa?

Excitement brightens our artist’s face. The sun pours in through the window and reflects upon his features, as if it too, is ready to enlighten.

B. Finally! I feel I’ve learned a lot of lessons from Twister.

My art, which is this sort of rebellion of the lower classes, is informed by years of playing this game. The constant

struggle to stay upright despite physical stressors, and structural entanglement. That’s how it is being poor, innit.

You ever seen a rat king? Seeing that shit in the hardy streets of Bristol, seeing some blokes playing Twister… reminds you of how the poor are always tied up in this constant scramble to survive. We’re all just rats with our tails tangled. And sometimes we have drills. That’s why they call it the rat race.

H. Wow. B. You know this shit used to be called King’s Footsie?

That’s what Milton Bradley wanted to call it but they didn’t call it that.

He’s cut off before the next spin, the ornate front door clicking open to reveal a tall, willowy brunette with one slender arm tucked around a brown paper bag. Three baguettes peek out the top of the bag, the aroma of fresh baked bread clearly affects the virtuoso vandal’s resolve, but nevertheless, he stays resolute–he’s a master at his game of choice.

Their sensual greetings suggest she is his girlfriend, or at the very least, a lover of some sort. “Adrienne makes the finest jambon beurre, you must try them sometime,” he tells us dreamily. The artist, now with a mind evenly divided between Twister and sandwich, clearly has no more time for our questions.

“Nothing makes me hungrier than a good game of Twister.”

We ask if he considers the game we played a ‘good’ game of Twister, but he is reluctant to say yes, maintaining that he has “very high standards for this kind of thing.”

ILLUSTRATION | SHELLEY YAO

Ask Saucy Suzy: How do you tell your best friend that she smells?

SAUCY SUZY COLUMNIST

Dear Saucy Suzy, My best friend Bianca smells like fruit. Well, more like fruit that rotted, was eaten by a pig, digested, and released out the other end. The point is, she doesn’t smell like a Bath & Body Works Sunshine Mimosa.

When I tried to tell her that she was stinky, I ended up giving her a swift kick to the hoo-ha instead. Turns out, the reason she smelt so rank was because she cheated with my boyfriend Derek and stole his gym socks as a souvenir. She’s currently in the ICU internally bleeding or something. They may have to surgically remove the heel of my shoe. As if she isn’t faking. My question to you is: how could I have handled this differently?

Should anyone ever try to tell someone else that they smell? Also, did Derek ever really love me, or was he just using me for my Nintendo Switch?

Hurry I Can’t Decide if I Should Call Him Back He has Great Thighs, Perfectly Scented in Peterborough Dear Perfectly Scented, First of all, I don’t think anyone should want to smell like a store-bought fragrance. Personally, I’m way into my natural musk. All it takes is a quick jog down the stairs for breakfast, and I smell so unique and alluring. Everyone has a distinct scent. Ask your friends for permission to smell them. Trust me, do it.

(Your real friends, not Bianca the B.O. Biatch.) You’ll

see that they all have these eau de bathwaters, eau de laundry detergent, eau de dog shampoo—whoops, that’s my secret ingredient ;). If you’re really worried about how you smell, try scraping on a thick layer of natural deodorant—it’ll add an accent to your musk without doing much else.

Second, I don’t know if you should tell someone they smell. Only if they, like, ask, or like, they’re completely out of control. What if it’s medical or something? My brother has medically stinky feet. It’s a real problem that affects up to, like, 15 percentt of all people. Unless, of course, they cross you. It would definitely be okay for you to tell Bianca she smells AFTER she fessed up about Derek.

Speaking of your no-good ex, I say steer clear unless you’re only getting back together to go all John Tucker on his ass. Do. Not. Give. In. To. Those. Thighs. Deep breaths, Perfectly Scented. Take deep, saucy breaths.

ALSO, I’m thinking of selling a bunch of jars that have bits of my natural musk in them. Let me know if you’d be into buying that and I’ll totally set up shop! You may know that the secret ingredient is dog shampoo but you’ll never guess which brand.

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

Stay Saucy, Suzy <3

16 STRANDED

EDITOR | VICTORIA MCINTYRE STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

What Elle Woods taught me about applying to grad school What, like it’s hard? you aren’t entirely sure about your desired program at first, just remember that once you commit, even When Elle Woods decided she would try to if you regret it, the bragging rights will feel so great get into Harvard Law, she did not let ideas like you will forget your love of any other subject than “I’m trying to get into Harvard Law” stop her. the one you ended up studying.

As a fashion merchandise student, Elle Woods’ Elle is forced to study for the LSATs during journey to getting into Harvard Law may have spring break. For those of you who may not be been predicated on some impossibilities, but able to remember, back then, deciding to stay there is a lot of practical advice in there too inside and not party with others was considered a if you look really hard for it and make a few sort of unique achievement. These days we might leaping generalizations. not have the same spring break temptations, Here are six things Elle Woods taught me about you could almost say that life is easier—almost. applying to grad school: However, getting an application in on time Don't actually send in a video essay like Elle— requires major focus so just remember: spring that kind of thing only happens in the movies. But pretty privilege is real so make sure your applications give a sense of how attractive you are—the kind of person you might see in a university ad campaign.

If you are pretty, try and see if you can meet for an interview. If not, stick to email.

Once Elle finally achieves a score of 179 on the LSATs and manages to get accepted into the highly competitive law school, it is not because just anyone can get an amazing LSAT score and then into Harvard if they try hard enough, but rather because she is actually just that smart.

However, had she not applied to law school in the first place, she would have never tapped into the insane intellectual potential she is now notorious for nearly, but not quite as much as her hair. Just like you would never know if you could be the next Will Hunting unless you become a janitor at MIT, unless you apply for grad school you will never know if you are an Elle Woods adjacent type.

Motivated by vengeance of a broken heart, Elle might not have been in it for the right reasons at first, but once she realized how much more satisfying it was to brag to her ex about being at the top of her class than to get back together with him, she was in this lawyer business for the long haul. If

NOAH LOT CONTRIBUTOR

Hopes and dreams Please, for the love of god, help me find them VICTORIA MCINTYRE STRANDED EDITOR

Destroy PlayBasketball Live CryLess InviteDadtoGame Laugh DoAnal Win Love Dominate ImpressDad NotPregnant Rich Popular Travel Powerful

break's temporary, but bragging rights are forever.

Plus, who doesn’t want their own work-hard-toplay-hard montage, full of scenes of themselves poring over books in different settings, from the elliptical to the sorority floor?

In the ripe era of the early-2000s, Elle’s laptop looked insanely cool, but it was not as fun. Now that our laptops are rife with distractions, if you are having trouble focusing on your application, pretend like you were born in a different era, for instance one where social media didn’t exist and everyone was happy.

Did I mention bragging rights?