The Strand | Volume 61, Issue 8

the

STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 61, ISSUE 8 | 29 JANUARY 2019

The uncertain future of campus media editorial | page 4

Runway fashion: should we care? arts | page 12

The woes of Ontario’s education fees opinions | page 6

02 NEWS

EDITOR | NICHOLAS FREER NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

Ford government cuts tuitions by ten percent

University administration not consulted

photo

alex byrne-krzycki contributor

On January 18, roughly 300 people congregated on the lawn of the Ontario Legislative Building to protest the changes to university funding and student assistance announced earlier in the week by the Ford government. These changes include a flat ten percent reduction in the cost of tuition.

Among the changes are the elimination of OSAP grants for anyone whose family income is above 140,000 dollars per year, the elimination of free tuition for low-income students, the end of the sixmonth interest-free period after graduation, and a move to make some student fees optional.

Merrilee Fullerton, Minister of Training, Colleges and Universities, justified the tuition cuts on January 17, stating: “The previous government believed in handing out OSAP money to some of Ontario’s highest income earners with virtually no meaningful criteria for success. It is no surprise that student enrolment has remained flat while tuition rates skyrocketed. Instead of using OSAP to indirectly subsidize future rounds of tuition hikes, we will focus our resources on the families in greatest need while challenging our partners in the postsecondary sector to deliver better value for the high tuitions they already charge.”

These sudden changes to tuition and student assistance caught UofT and the Canadian Federation of Students off guard. A source within the university confirmed that UofT was not consulted about these changes prior to the announcement made by Minister Fullerton. Additionally, the chairperson of the Canadian Federation of Students Ontario, Nour Alideeb, stated in an interview with The Strand that the organization has been unable

to schedule a meeting with the provincial government since Premier Ford was elected in June.

After the announcement, UofT president Meric Gertler released a statement saying, “We need to review our budgets to assess the full impact of these changes. But we remain committed to fulfilling our academic mission and to supporting excellence in research and innovation. We will do all we can to limit the impact of these changes on the UofT community.”

However, it remains to be seen if a budget shortfall could be made up. To understand more about how these cuts will affect the school, The Strand reached out to Dr. Holger Syme, an Associate Professor at the University of Toronto Mississauga and a former department head who has managed budgets within the university. According to Dr. Syme, there are relatively few tools for revenue generation at such a late stage. One solution might be to raise fees for international students; however, as the average student fee for the Faculty of Arts and Science was increased by nine percent for the 2018 to 2019 year, the university would be need to be careful to avoid pricing itself out of a competitive marketplace.

Ultimately, it looks as though cuts are inevitable. Some may occur through attrition, in which retiring staff are not replaced at the same rate as new staff are hired, or retiring staff may be replaced by contract workers and graduate lecturers. According to Dr. Syme, “It’s up to the President and the Provost to decide how the burden will be shared. I suspect it’s going to be distributed among the divisions, perhaps proportionately, perhaps weighted in some way to ensure that our teaching mission will not be too severely affected.”

One big question that remains is the allo-

| hana nikcevic

cation of what Dr. Syme called the “University Fund,” which he defined as: “the pool of money into which all divisions pay around ten percent” of their tuition fees. The pool is then redistributed, with some divisions receiving more than they put in. With the Ford cuts affecting some of the largest contributors to the Fund, it remains to be seen how or if the Fund will be redistributed as well as who it will hurt.

Right now, the only thing that is certain is the uncertainty for students and faculty, and of what comes next.

Disclosure: Alex Byrne-Krzycki has previously worked for the Ontario Legislature

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

A timeline of the ongoing Wet’suwet’en pipeline division Forced removal of First Nations land protectors at Unist’ot’en camp checkpoint miranda carroll editorial assistant

On January 7, the militarized Royal Canadian Mounted Police forcefully invaded a checkpoint formed by the Unis’tot’en clan on Wet’suwet’en traditional territory. This territory is unceded Indigenous land on the West Coast of Turtle Island. The Gidumt’en checkpoint is the entrance to the Unist’ot’en Camp that functions to prevent non-consensual entrance, such as the construction of the Trans Mountain pipeline on the territory. The 670 kilometre-long pipeline would go from the Dawson Creek area in northeastern B.C. to Kitimat, B.C. There, natural gas would be converted to liquid form for transport to Asia. According to the TransCanada website, this would aid the replacement of current coal-fired electricity.

Coastal GasLink, a TransCanada subsidiary, is building the 40-billion-dollar pipeline project. In

November 2018, Coastal GasLink applied for an injunction to remove land protectors at the checkpoint camp that was set up to block the passage of pipeline workers getting ready to clear the land.

On December 14, a court injunction was granted to Coastal GasLink that ordered clearance of the checkpoint. The camp was created to block the bridge leading to the pipeline site, which allowed the company access to a road that went through Wet’suwet’en territory. The RCMP dismantled checkpoints along the route to the site and forcefully removed Indigenous land protectors from unceded territory, arresting 14 who were taken to Houston, B.C. Coastal GasLink says they have a legal agreement with 20 First Nations groups including the Wet’suwet’en, but the hereditary chiefs of the five Wet’suwet’en clans are the only authorities that can consent to the pipeline, and they have not consented to development. The agreement that Coastal GasLink

cites is with the elected leaders of the band councils, groups originally created by the federal government upon the establishment of reserves. The Wet’suwet’en land protectors are leading national protests against the pipeline.

Freda Huson, hereditary spokesperson for the Unist’ot’en, in an interview with The Canadian Press explained, “The land is not separate from us. The land sustains us. And if we don’t take care of her, she won’t be able to sustain us, and we as a generation of people will die,” emphasizing the connection that her community has with the land. The conflict and negotiations between Coastal Gaslink and the Wet’suwet’en Nation’s hereditary leaders is ongoing. Huson’s sentiment continues to be supported in Toronto, the rest of Canada, and internationally, through protests against the RCMP’s arrest of 14 protestors and by showing Canadian solidarity with the Wet’suwet’en First Nation.

Social media, media illiteracy, and new competition Hart House hosts panel on issues of modern journalism jiawen chen contributor

On January 21, four prominent Canadian journalists discussed journalism and misinformation in the Hart House Debates Room, moderated by Marva Wisdom, director of the Black Experience Project. The event, “Journalism in the Age of Fake News,” was hosted by the Hart House Debates and Dialogue Committee.

Jesse Brown, founder and host of the podcast CANADALAND, began the discussion by clarifying the term “fake news.” According to Brown, fake news initially referred to realistic news sites often run by teenagers who found they could make money from clicks on made-up stories. These fake news stories differ in intent and can vary from memes shared on the internet to serious propaganda efforts. “Lies aren’t new,” said Brown, but “fake news” was quickly “co-opted by Donald Trump” as an umbrella term to convey dissent toward journalists.

Ryerson School of Journalism professor Asmaa Malik noted that “with social networks, the sources of information have become more and more obscure.”

The spread of misinformation, according to Malik, is complicated by its amplification on social media and by the failure of readers to go directly to the source. Panelists agreed that the lack of media literacy is concerning.

Malik called for better “training [of ] skeptical media consumers.”

The Toronto Star’s Washington bureau chief Daniel Dale discussed how hard it is to “combat misinformation once it has spread,” citing personal experience.

Over six years ago, Dale was covering a story about former Toronto mayor Rob Ford and was falsely accused

by Ford of trespassing on Ford’s property and standing on cinder blocks to spy over his fence. To this day, Dale’s innocence has not been fully restored in the eyes of the public, despite Ford’s public retraction of all accusations.

Toronto-based VICE reporter Tamara Khandaker added that browsing social media is often the main source of Canadians’ daily “news diet.” These threads,

however, do not have room for “nuanced conversation.”

The panel unanimously stressed the importance for individuals to establish a broad base of news sources that includes sources they do not like or agree with. Brown warned if one does not diversify one’s own sources, one will be critically unaware of what other people are consuming, and Khandaker urged the audience to go out of their way to read stories that friends are not sharing.

Malik further stated that journalists, especially those working for traditional news sources, must better understand how news works on social media networks.

Though overshadowed by the larger phenomenon of fake news spread through these networks, the panel noted that new media outlets like Buzzfeed and VOX are more aggressive and internet-savvy companies that put pressure on mainstream media sources to stay relevant.

While the panel found social media and personal biases to be the biggest threat to journalistic integrity, other threats, such as manipulated photos and videos, were seen as less important to the spread of misinformation. Instead, Brown suggested that convincing fakes can actually help, because a lack of “perfect evidence” can make the public more skeptical.

When asked about the most important goal for journalists in the modern world, Brown emphasized the importance of journalists as information providers.

Even journalists who work for media companies with a political slant, he said, typically prioritize telling what is actually going on over intentionally “lying to get a point across.” Khandaker added that the job of journalists is to provide context so that people can make informed decisions.

It is also important for journalists, continued Malik, to be transparent so they too can be held accountable. Dale acknowledged the important roles for various kinds of journalists. Journalists hold powerful people accountable by investigating and revealing misdeeds, but those who “tell interesting human stories that make us think, or laugh, or cry” also play a role in “making society better.”

Tanya Talaga to deliver Pelham Edgar Lecture This year’s Pelham Edgar visiting Lecturer in the Humanities is acclaimed journalist and Strand alumna Tanya Talaga. Talaga will deliver the annual lecture on February 6, 2019, beginning at 4 pm in Isabel Bader Theatre. All are welcome to attend.

Tanya Talaga is the acclaimed author of Seven Fallen Feathers, which was the winner of the RBC Taylor Prize, the Shaughnessy Cohen Prize for Political Writing, and the First Nation Communities Read Award: Young Adult/Adult; a finalist for the Hilary Weston Writers’ Trust Nonfiction Prize and the BC National Award for Nonfiction; CBC’s Nonfiction Book of the Year, a Globe and Mail Top 100 Book, and a national bestseller. Talaga was the 2017–2018 Atkinson Fellow in Public Policy, the 2018 CBC Massey Lecturer, and author of the national bestseller All Our Relations: Finding The Path Forward. For more than twenty years she has been a journalist at the Toronto Star and is now a columnist at the newspaper. She has been nominated five times for the Michener Award in public service journalism. Talaga is of Polish and Indigenous descent. Her great-grandmother, Liz Gauthier, was a residential school survivor. Her great-grandfather, Russell Bowen, was an Ojibwe trapper and labourer. Her grandmother is a member of Fort William First Nation. Her mother was raised in Raith and Graham, Ontario. She lives in Toronto with her two teenage children.

The Pelham Edgar Lecture is made possible through an endowment established by Dr. Johanna L. Metcalf (Victoria College 5T7) in 2004, to fund visiting scholars and benefit the Vic One program.

04 EDITORIAL

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

The uncertain future of campus media

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editor@thestrand.ca

6 1

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opinions

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georgia lin

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nisbeth, anna maria sordjan, rashana youtzy,

meg zhang copy editors alyssa dibattista, arin klein, max nisbeth design team jay bawar, sabrina papas illustrations mia carnevale, katie doyle, keelin gorlewski, fiona tung photos ashley meehan, hana nikcevic, brianna roye cover illustration maia grecco

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

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

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

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

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Students across Ontario are seeking answers about the future of their education. The Ford government’s announcement on January 17 outlined a framework that would reduce the fees of tuition at Ontario colleges and universities by ten percent. The set of changes, however, presents more financial barriers to post-secondary education than it would eliminate, and will have a severe impact on the student organizations of our institutions.

Their policy includes the elimination of free tuition for students from low-income families and the six-month interest free grace period for loan repayment. Along with this shift to a less accessible postsecondary fees structure, previously mandatory non-tuition fees, deemed “non-essential,” will become optional through an online opt-out process. Student groups, such as unions, clubs, and newspapers, all receive their funding through ancillary fees. The proposed changes pose a major threat to campus media in Ontario.

Student press undeniably holds a vital role in holding our institutions and communities accountable, as well as providing a platform for student voices to be heard. Jack O. Denton, Editorin-Chief of The Varsity, affirms “[…] the wider Canadian media landscape relies on campus media to give a platform to stories from universities and colleges that would otherwise go uncovered. In this way, student journalists across Ontario essentially make up a giant team of beat reporters; the shuttering of campus media outlets would mean many important stories from campuses across the province never receive the attention they deserve.” The Varsity has proved to be fundamental in breaking campus stories this academic year with their coverage of the Muslim Students’ Association receiving unannounced visits from the RCMP and CSIS, sexual assault within our campus theatre community, and most recently, with their in-depth coverage of the Ford government’s changes to funding and tuition.

For the past five years, McMaster University’s student union has discussed the possibility of merging their campus newspaper, The Silhouette, with the campus radio station. Silhouette Editor-in-Chief Emily O’Rourke expects that McMaster will use the Ford government’s cuts as an opportunity to drastically reduce their funding.

McMaster runs its own news outlet, Daily News, which O’Rourke describes as a “spin machine” for the University, constructing a narrative that only presents the institution and administration positively. She says, “We’ve criticized [Daily News] several times, so if they have the opportunity to silence us, I’m absolutely certain that they would.”

A loss in funding would have devastating results to the operation of The Silhouette. “We would have to completely abolish our print product, reduce at least half of our staff and likely only function as an online blog, if we’d function at all. We’d also likely have to reduce our Editor-in-Chief role to a part-time position, if not a volunteer position,” O’Rourke speculates. For campus-wide news-

papers such as The Silhouette and The Varsity, the position of Editorin-Chief is a full-time job with the senior staff of section editors holding part-time paid positions. If campus newspapers were forced to reduce their staff to volunteer roles, the positions would no longer be financially sustainable and would limit which students could hold them.

The Strand, a Victoria College levy, receives our funding from the ancillary fees paid by Victoria College students and distributed by the Victoria University Students’ Administrative Council (VUSAC). We are a relatively small newspaper with a hardworking volunteer staff. Should Ford’s policies be put in place, our main adjustments will be made to our print schedule, and like The Silhouette, we will need to focus on primarily publishing content to our website. At this point, however, it’s difficult to plan ahead because the details of Ford’s policy remain unclear. We cannot know for certain what will need to be rearranged until we know how severely our funding will be reduced.

For Erik Preston, President of the Canadian University Press (CUP) and former Editor-in-Chief of The Strand, the lack of clarity is a primary concern. CUP is a non-profit cooperative for student newspapers in Canada of which The Strand, The Varsity, and The Silhouette are all members. Their goal during this time “is to see that the student media be included as an essential service within this policy, whether that be through engaging the Ford government, or through working with member papers to engage their individual schools to see that they be included in this group of services provided to students,” explains Preston. “Without a functioning student press, it will be hard for the voices of students, particularly those in marginalized communities, to be heard and properly represented in the Canadian media.”

The lack of clarity that Preston speaks to seems to be a common theme at our university. VUSAC Vice President External Devon Wilton informs The Strand that at a meeting of the Dean’s Advisory Council, Dean of Students Kelley Castle announced that Vic’s senior administration is still waiting for clarification. “At this point in time, we [VUSAC] don't know exactly how this policy change will affect funding,” says Wilton. As they are also funded by the ancillary fees, Ford’s changes will undoubtedly impact the services provided

by VUSAC that are integral to student life at Vic. When expressing concern about the damage of Ford’s policy on The Strand to colleagues and friends, we’ve been met with a recurring response: the policy will not be implemented until September 2019, so we have nothing to worry about—it’s not our problem.

This initially sounds like a fair assessment; our terms as Editors-inChief will be finished at the beginning of May and we are both graduating in June. But we refuse to leave behind a newspaper that is so close to our hearts without concrete answers and a plan. We may not be breaking news, but The Strand has been providing a platform for the voices of students to be heard since 1953 and we are not going to let that change.

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Yes, I’m tired

Why being told about my fatigue is exhausting georgia lin opinions editor

Every Thursday evening, I attend a three-hour community choir rehearsal in which I am the youngest non-paid member by roughly three decades. It’s a warm, welcoming environment with homemade baked goods during the break and charming retired folks who like to sing. Within this contingent of elderly white ladies, at least one of them will always greet me by saying, “You look tired today!” At 6:30 pm on a Thursday, I often am quite tired. Dragging myself through the winter sludge to sit on rocky pews for the better part of my night is not an entirely enjoyable activity, as delicious as the lemon squares are. Moreover, I am not comfortable expressing, in the choir space, my mental health struggles and how they hinder my everyday functioning. So my usual response becomes: “Yes, I had a long day.”

Yet every day is a long day. I wake up and see the dark circles under my eyes, and I always try and trick myself into thinking it’s just some mascara residue. I put on concealer to make myself look more awake, but its longevity is inevitably cursed because I habitually rub my eyes when I am anxious.

On days when I don’t wear makeup, it usually means I need more sleep than I got the night before. Clinical depression tries to trap me in bed, and chronic anxiety reminds me that I have responsibilities that will soon make me exhausted by sunset. It’s a cycle that’s punctuated by moments of levity—seeing people attend and enjoy themselves at events I’ve

planned, someone telling me they resonated with something I wrote, or my roommate and I discussing the absurdities of the British royal family’s history over breakfast. I trust that my work is valued, and recognizing positive, active engagement with what I’ve produced is worth some fatigue.

However, active engagement on my part is not guaranteed because of the host of identities I occupy, many of which do not align with the predominantly white, aged, upper-middle-class population of my community choir. There is not enough energy in my system to try and justify why racist microaggressions drain me more than running does when someone asks why I look tired. Nor does my walking into the rehearsal without a smile justify clipped comments like “You look rushed.” To me, rushed is my preset, along with the many flaws it brings to my every day. But I should not have to excuse my exhaustion. Being tired is an indication of my normal, and it is a trait I am trying to change by taking time to do absolutely nothing, not stepping foot on UofT campus for a day, ignoring my to-do list in favour of baking cookies, and going to therapy where I can actually absorb clinical strategies to help me manage my setbacks. Unfortunately, my schedule makes these moments scarce.

If I look tired, it’s because I am tired. I am tired of having to pass off my slumped posture as foolish laziness in not wanting to sit up straight on rigid chairs, as just having walked a long distance in heels, as side effects of the bitter weather— despite all these situations having elements of truth to them.

We should be allowed to be tired without reason because it is

a state of existence, albeit an unideal one. Let us say we don’t want to be here because we’d rather be in bed without having to suffer through a packed streetcar ride to get home. Let me say that singing until 8:45 pm on a Thursday night makes me want to fall asleep on a pew because I have more 12-hour days than not. Let me say that being tired does not make me less of a singer, less of a qualified student, or less of a young person capable of “having fun” with a boisterous laugh that I’ve been told to tone down—a comment I’ve both directly and indirectly heard from those in the community choir. Receiving judgement, however subtle or explicit, from people in a space where I already don’t feel entirely comfortable as one of only a handful of people of colour in the room is stinging. Whether in professional or non-professional spaces, looking or being tired should not be a fault.

I write this lying in bed at 7:30 pm at the end of a hectic week with my laptop propped on my chest, wearing pajamas.

In sustaining myself through public interactions and meetings with high anxiety symptoms constantly riding on my shoulders and depressive episodes threatening my ability to attend 10 am lectures, I cannot bring myself to do much else.

Declaring that I’m tired should not be met with condescending suggestions concerning how or why I should rest more, because I already know. I’ve committed myself to a myriad of engagements that give me joy in fulfilling my passions, one of which includes the opportunity to sing choral music every week. I am grateful and exhausted, thrilled and sleepy. Please let me be tired. illustration

| mia carnevale

illustration

| katie doyle

06 OPINIONS

EDITOR | GEORGIA LIN OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

The woes of Ontario’s education fees Opt-out policy targets student activism and distracts from significant barriers to educational access kathleen chen staff writer

On January 17, the Ford government announced that students will now be allowed to opt out from paying fees that fund organizations such as clubs and student unions. The government claimed that the goal of this policy change was to make higher education more accessible. However, having the option to opt out threatens the basic functioning and very existence of student groups, including organizations which hold the government and university administrations accountable.

If students can pick and choose which groups to support, these organizations will be underfunded.

Incidental fees are mandatory for the same reason that public education and healthcare are funded through taxes. If people are given the option to avoid paying for these services, some people will decide to opt out. This results in more students following suit, because they know they will end up receiving underfunded services even if they do pay.

Doug Ford’s government clearly understands this logic, because the new policy preserves mandatory fees for some services they consider to be essential, which include “walksafe programs, health and counselling, athletics and recreation, and academic support.” On the other hand, student unions, advocacy photo

| ashley meehan

groups, and campus media were not mentioned. The government’s implementation of this policy starves such student groups of funding.

A functional student government and free press are necessary democratic institutions for a university, and they should be considered essential. Students need organizations that will lobby on their behalf and represent their interests. They also need campus media to do a detailed job of reporting on student issues, which often fall under the radar of mainstream outlets. Historically, student protests have been influential in pushing for social change and challenging the government. The opt-out policy is a direct threat to student activism, which is to Ford’s advantage.

Clubs are also arguably a fundamental part of the university experience, providing benefits such as social connections, job and networking opportunities, and the chance to build leadership and teamwork skills—all of which are now under existential threat.

The Ford administration claimed that this policy “[gives] students choice regarding where their money is spent.” But in reality, if students can selectively fund organizations, some groups will no longer be able to function, which would ultimately reduce the number of choices available to students. The survival of structures as basic as student unions and the stu-

dent press could become conditional on widespread student approval. We vote for elected officials in order to support those who best represent us, but we do not consider whether the government should be allowed to exist at every election cycle. This policy is presented in a way that makes it seem like students are currently unable to choose which groups to support, but we already have channels to voice disagreements through voting and assembly.

In addition, groups that represent marginalized voices like those of BIPOC and LGBTQ+ communities might see their funding unfairly and disproportionately targeted due to racist and homophobic views rather than legitimate disagreements with their positions. The existence of these threats is the very reason these groups need to have a secure source of funding so that they can continue to advocate for underrepresented perspectives and work toward social change.

Funding generated from student fees is crucial to the independence and transparency of student groups. If groups lose revenue from student fees, they will become reliant on alternative sources, such as funding from the university or the government.

This would greatly restrict the ability of these organizations to be critical of the administration. The Ford government stated that the opt-out policy will “ensure transparency,” but it will instead accomplish the opposite. Furthermore, it will be up to universities to specify what they consider to be non-essential services from which students can opt out. When the same groups that hold the administration accountable are dependent on its leaders’ approval for their funding, their ability to express criticism is compromised.

However, it is true that incidental fees can add up. There needs to be more discussion about the appropriate balance between ensuring that organizations receive enough revenue from students in order to maintain their autonomy and making sure that these fees are low enough to be accessible. The optout policy may allow students to reduce the ticket price of the fees they pay, but it is unnecessarily disruptive to the organizations that make up student life. If the government were truly concerned about incidental fees posing a barrier to accessible education, they could have implemented fee subsidies to help lower-income students or considered a progressive fee structure which lowers fees for lower-income students and increases fees for those who can afford it. Instead, Ford’s government is weaponizing postsecondary education in order to weaken critical student groups to their benefit.

Ontario students pay the highest tuition rates in Canada but receive the lowest proportion of their funding from government grants: 36 percent in the 2017 fiscal year. This makes Ontario institutions more dependent on tuition as a revenue stream, which represents 56 percent of universities’ income, the highest percentage among the provinces. Increasing government support for universities, especially in light of the ten percent tuition cut that will cost universities and colleges an estimated 440 million dollars in lost revenue, would have a far more significant impact on the affordability and quality of higher education. Framing this issue as students overpaying incidental fees is nothing more than a distraction from the larger issue of the soaring cost of education in this province.

Targeting the core functioning of these organizations hinders the ability of both current and future student leaders to do anything at all. Doug Ford is allowing disagreement to be reason enough for disbandment, and in doing so, he is threatening the very structures that promote discourse.

OPINIONS 07

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

Listen to us before you talk over us The misunderstanding around Bell Let’s Talk Day

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tamara frooman senior copy editor

Content warning: mental illness, suicide Every year, there is one day that I avoid social media because, to put it bluntly, I am afraid I will spiral into another depressive episode if I don’t. This fear is founded on experience: my first exposure to Bell Let’s Talk Day in high school landed me back in the familiar void of isolation and apathetic despair. Every year, the day that is intended to bring me solace instead fills me with resentment.

My opinions are not representative of everyone with a mental illness—I say this because it is important to avoid universalizing the experience of “mental illness” by recognizing the multitude of perspectives that exist within the community and by striving for a nuanced, complex understanding of individualized experiences. It is also important to acknowledge that my cis, white identity provides me with a position of privilege in this community.

Many of the issues with Let’s Talk Day have already been voiced: the repercussions of a movement that is inherently capitalist and corporate, the hypocritical treatment of Bell employees regarding mental health, the lack of representation in the campaign ads, the legal loop-holes Bell exploits, the recipients of the donations, and the focus on stigma rather than material realties of discrimination. There is a limit to what can be achieved under a corporate, capitalist framework, even if Let’s Talk does some good in terms of publicizing mental health advocacy or raising money for certain organizations.

I think the way that responses are articulated can have repercussions beyond their intention, and the way support is conveyed can make people like me feel even more misunderstood and isolated. If the people you are trying to help feel worse from your attempt to help them, something needs to change. Here are some ways that change can happen: Trigger/content warnings Please provide them. Let’s Talk Day is no exception, and people rarely include them! Logging onto social media and being bombarded with intense mental illness–related topics can be very overwhelming.

Speech bubble responses Bell provides a toolkit for Let’s Talk Day that includes a download for a speech bubble that asks “What does men-

| hana nikcevic

tal health mean to you?” and invites people to display their answers. Every year, many of these responses are patronizing, reductive, and universalizing, such as the following:

“You are not your mental illness!”

Don’t tell me how to identify. It takes away my agency, and I’m allowed to identify as mentally ill if I choose to.

“Mental health affects us all” Yes, but that should not the point. Universalizing like this takes the focus away from the very people who should be central to this conversation. The phrasing of Bell’s campaign slogan undermines any benefit I could potentially derive from it. If mental health truly did affect us all, we wouldn’t need to be having this dedicated conversation.

Also, we shouldn’t only care about things when they affect us personally, or when they’re expensive for the federal government. Helping people has value beyond whatever money it can save you in the long run.

I’m tired of people saying, “We should make sure to talk about this every day, all year round!” as if they’re saving the world. You don’t get my thanks for recognizing my existence. Am I a selfish cynic? Absolutely. That’s what mental illness does to a person. So when you decide to tweet about always being there to listen, understand that it might involve listening to selfish, cynical, angry, isolated, mean, hopeless, hurting people, and remember that mental illness can and does ruin friendships, lives, and connections.

It’s not just being there for half an hour while your friend cries; it’s intervening when they haven’t left the house in days. It’s trying to understand that the awful things they say to you are a result of the mental illness and are not indicative of your relationship with them. It’s waiting out long periods of isolation for them to be able to hang out again; it’s having to end two-year friendships because their mental health is impacting yours; it’s repetitive and taxing and it drains your energy because there isn’t always a silver lining. Sometimes it’s putting in decades of time, effort, and money without necessarily getting anything in return, based on a faint hope that it will make things slightly less awful.

And it’s sometimes accepting that as much as you want to be there for a person, it will destroy you to stand by them. It’s choosing between staying and ruining a friendship or leaving and trying to salvage it. Many times there is no moment of triumph, no “I’m eternally grateful” emotional victory, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

It just means we need to be realistic about the situation so no one feels ripped off at the end, because everyone knows what “I’ll be there” entails. Otherwise trust can’t be established; as soon as it gets hard, people tend to pick up and leave. I’m not innocent of this. Joy and connections are not guaranteed when mental illness is involved.

Despite everything, one of my fondest memories is reading those speech bubble responses with a few friends, all of us mentally ill, all of us scarred and in the throes of existential apathy, pulling our regular second all-nighter of the week in a common room at dawn, all of us laughing out tears that connected us in the face of this wall of misunderstanding. I’m trying not to romanticize it, but that year was hard and that situation provided a much-needed moment of kinship in which I briefly felt okay.

“Talk to someone, get help!” / “Talk it out, don’t hold it in!” / “Don’t stay silent!” / “Be kind to yourself ” Please don’t order me to do something I’ve been trying to do for years as if the problem was that I didn’t think of doing it. There are systemic issues that prevent people from accessing help. This wording also puts the onus on people with mental illness to reach out for help when mental illness inherently makes asking for help extremely difficult, if not impossible.

“It’s okay to not be okay” No, it sucks. And I don’t need your permission to not feel okay.

“You would never shame someone for having a broken leg! So why should you be shamed for having a mental illness?”

Please stop comparing mental illnesses to physical injuries because false equivalences don’t help anyone. It’s not a productive conflation for mental illness or broken bones (i.e. broken bones heal).

“Turn ‘I’ into ‘we’ and illness becomes wellness” There is no cure. There are treatments—but they require access to healthcare, medication, insurance, therapy, diligence, patience, energy, effort, self-control, and relapses still happen.

“It’s normal to feel anxious, depressed, unstable” We shouldn’t define mental illness as the norm. Clinical depression isn’t sadness and anxiety disorders are not stress.

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | REBECCA GAO FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

the cruelty of cruelty-free living

Spilling the beans on Vegandale meg zhang staff writer

I’m not ashamed to admit it: when I first learned of “Vegandale,” I thought it was the greatest thing to happen to Toronto. When Mythology Diner opened in late 2017, I knew it was going to be my kind of restaurant. It promised a smorgasbord of comforting, stick-to-your-ribs classics that also happened to be vegan. I hopped on the 501 streetcar and made my way into the heart of Parkdale.

The meal was everything I had hoped for—and more. I began my dinner with a rosemary gin and tonic. Then came my entrée: a juicy New York strip steak basted with garlic infused butter, mashed potatoes with plenty of chives and sour cream, and a generous serving of green beans and carrots. Of course, I couldn’t leave without dessert: a slice of chocolate cheesecake, drizzled with chocolate syrup (made in-house) and garnished with fresh raspberries, blackberries, and edible flowers. Soon I returned to Mythology Diner for birthday festivities, dragging two of my friends along. They were not vegetarian or vegan, but they thought the food was very tasty.

I was still on cloud nine. This time: a Reuben sandwich (loaded with kraut, cheese, and Russian dressing) served with a side of perfectly seasoned French

fries and a pickle spear.

Let me tell you a little bit about Vegandale before we continue. Vegandale represents the five vegan businesses between Dufferin Street and Brock Avenue along Queen Street West. These businesses belong to a parent company, The 5700 Inc., whose president, Hellenic Vincent De Paul, first made his mark in Parkdale when he launched the Los Angeles restaurant Doomie’s back in 2016. Within two years, one brand metastasized into five. Walking west down Queen Street, you first pass by Copenhagen Vegan Café & Bakery, a chic little eatery that sells a wide array of decadent desserts and savoury breakfast foods. Mythology Diner, an upscale “diner” that serves all the classics—veganized—is just a hop, skip, and a jump away. Directly across the street is The Imperative, a clothing shop that sells vegan leather jackets, winter coats, shoes, belts, and more.

Finally, sitting at the corner of Queen and Brock rests The Vegandale Brewery, a beer hall that sells “Morally Superior” pilsners, lagers, IPAs, and sours.

Oddly enough, you can have your drinks alongside vegan soft serves and bubble waffles. Within the brewery itself, you find Not Your Mother, a ’70s-inspired ice cream bar. Its slogan? “Exploiting Animals is not Groovy.”

When I approach Vegandale from the perspective of a gourmand, I can see its overwhelming ap-

peal. Most vegetarians, vegans, and plant-based eaters don’t want their diets to consist solely of limp leafy greens. Like everyone else, they want cheat meals, fine-dining experiences, and food that’s going to guarantee them a good time. Finding indulgent treats can be incredibly difficult if you don’t eat meat, dairy, or eggs. Tim Hortons is not an option unless you’re willing to makeshift your own bagel concoction. Other places tend to offer the same kinds of vegan foods: chalky oat bars, meagre salads, and some kind of “health-conscious” cookie. It feels empowering to look at a menu that lists chicken and waffles, toffee sticky buns, cheddar scones, and black forest cake and know that you can order everything in good conscience. It also feels great not to listen to your meat-eating friends complain about eating “rabbit food” whenever you take them out. Vegandale provides options that are not readily available in other neighbourhoods of Toronto and normalizes them for plant-based and non-plant-based eaters alike. With Vegandale, you can have your (crueltyfree) cake and eat it too!

Or can you? Is Vegandale really as “Morally Superior” or as “Groovy” as it seems? Parkdale residents don’t seem to think so. There’s a darker side to Vegandale’s flashy signs. The 5700 Inc. has been accused of violently gentrifying Parkdale, a community that was historically made up of newcomers, ethnic mi-

FEATURES 09

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

norities, and low-income Torontonians.

Queen Street West, a street that was once predominated by Tibetan, West Indian, and Indian/ Hakka mom-and-pop restaurants, is rapidly becoming replaced by higher-end eateries and big corporations. Over time, these new businesses raise living costs and rent, forcing long-time local business owners to move elsewhere or to close up shop. A notable example of this gentrification is what happened to the West End Food Co-op. Formerly located on Queen Street West just past Dufferin, the co-op pro-

statistic is related to the Vegandale Festivals—which is a whole other fish to fry) and millions of “NonVegans Converted.” While Parkdale landmarks close their doors, Vegandale aims to open a new restaurant in 2019: a vegan pizza joint to be named Promiscuous Pie. It is especially interesting to note that when I recently searched “parkdale tibet vegan food” on Google, the first and third suggestions were Doomie’s and Mythology Diner. If these facts don’t constitute “taking over,” I don’t know what does.

On August 4, 2018, Parkdale residents and

ceeds. It must also be stressed that big corporations cannot hope to make long-term beneficial change to a community by merely chucking money at it.

Employing community members and making their goods and services accessible are the only ways to enact permanent progress.

Vegandale is, in many ways, not as cruelty-free as it claims to be. The more I think about it, the more I recognize these businesses’ holier-than-thou marketing strategies. They emphasize the deliciousness, coolness, and superiority of their products. They

Is Vegandale really as “Morally Superior” or as “Groovy” as it seems?

Parkdale residents don’t seem to think so. vided community members with locally-sourced, fair-trade, organic, and plant-based food. It featured workshops on how to live more sustainably and also offered summer positions for students to work and volunteer. Despite being around for nearly a decade, West End Food Co-op was forced to permanently close in July 2018 after the neighbourhood’s rising costs made it financially impossible for the co-op to stay open.

Vegandale did not intentionally or even directly contribute to this business’ demise—that’s the mantra that Hellenic Vincent De Paul repeats when he is met with criticism. His explanation makes sense, to an extent. His brands are not the first or only businesses to gentrify Parkdale. More and more restaurants and bars now serve funky, Westernized fusion food at higher prices, hoping to attract wealthier customers from other neighbourhoods. Vegandale becomes the scapegoat (pardon the pun) of a longterm systemic issue because some people simply find the word “vegan” to be offensive. The president of The 5700 Inc. affirms that Vegandale does not wish to takeover Parkdale. His restaurants and shops only seek to provide Torontonians with cruelty-free, ethical options.

That’s not what the official Vegandale website says, however. On the “About Vegandale” page, the website describes Vegandale as a “mecca for the ethically minded,” with four “Cities Taken Over” (this

guests formed an open forum in Milky Way Garden to draft and ratify five community demands for The 5700 Inc. The corporation must 1) Stop “Vegandale” branding and expansion in Parkdale, 2) Remove all moral imperative messaging from exterior signage, 3) Commit to a long-term financial contribution to an existing food security/justice initiative, 4) Commit to 60 percent local and equitable hiring, and 5) Remove all unnecessary security guards and stop the investment in security technologies. The forum accused Vegandale of failing to make its spaces accessible to marginalized members of the community.

Further, many residents cannot afford to eat at the restaurants. While the products may be delicious, they are also exorbitantly priced. It is outrageous to spend 20 dollars on a burger or 7 dollars on a soft serve if you live on or below the minimum wage. Furthermore, by refusing to hire Parkdale residents and by boosting security tactics, Vegandale puts marginalized community members, including newcomers, Indigenous and racialized peoples, LGBTQ2SIA peoples, people living with disabilities, low-income parents, and formerly incarcerated people, at a higher risk of criminalization and violence.

It should be noted that The 5700 Inc. responded to these demands by committing $100,000 to local charity programs to help residents with “food security issues and justice initiatives.” However, it is not clear which community groups received these pro-

mask the iron grip of their influence with class connotations and snarky posters. They conceal exploitation by reinforcing the pleasurable experience of the food they are serving. It’s hard for me to distinguish these characteristics from the abhorrent gentrifying tactics of Tyson, Hormel, or Burger King.

I want to stress that the Vegandale model should not be the figurehead of vegetarianism, veganism, and plant-based eating in Toronto. The following meals are healthily portioned and worth every cent.

Little Tibet offers a wide selection of vegetarian and vegan options: ten vegetable momos for $7.99 and Sweet & Spicy Tofu for $8.99 are some great choices. Om Restaurant serves a vegetarian special (tofu, broccoli, and mushrooms in a garlicky tomato sauce) for $11.99. Mother India offers chana curry with rice and aloo gobi with rice for $10.95. Shangrila, a Tibetan/Hakka fusion restaurant with stunning décor, serves a vegetarian thali: unlimited rice with tofu chili, lentil soup, vegetables, and pickled radishes. Affordable and mom-and-pop vegan options are all around the city. King’s Café and Saigon Lotus in Kensington Market serve dim sum and Vietnamese classics respectively. Ital Vital Kensington Market packs large containers full of wholesome, delicious, plant-based Caribbean food for only $11. There are so many options besides Vegandale that are not only cruelty-free to non-human animals, but also crueltyfree to human animals.

illustrations

| keelin gorlewski

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | TANUJ ASH KUMAR SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

Understanding the Opioid Crisis A closer look at the chronology and science behind the worst drug epidemic in American history tianren chu contributor

In the United States, opioid misuse kills over 190 people every day—a rate of roughly 21.7 deaths per 100,000 people in 2017. Here in Canada, the numbers are slightly less dire: since January 2016, an estimate of over 9,000 deaths related to heroin, fentanyl, and other opioid drugs have been reported—a rate of 10.9 per 100,000 people in 2017.

A bit of history The painkilling properties of opium (the natural form of opioids) have been well-known since ancient times. In fact, the famous Greek physician Hippocrates documented the useful medicinal properties of opium, which is derived from poppy flowers.

Since the late 18th century, opium has been prescribed as a painkiller by physicians in North America under the medical label “morphine,” mainly for treating wounded soldiers or terminally-ill patients.

But how did the use of these painkillers come to escalate into daily tragedies related to heroin and street drugs laced with fentanyl?

The roots of the current opioid crisis in North America can be traced back to the 1990s: data published by pharmaceutical companies falsely convinced the medical community that using opioids for pain management would not lead to addiction.

Consequently, the number of opioid prescriptions rose sharply. The easy access to opioids and their liberal prescription soon led to its use for recreational purposes, causing many cases of drug abuse and misuse: 80 percent of heroin addiction cases started with the misuse of legal prescription opioids.

More recently, synthetic forms of opioids have emerged (mainly from illegal labs), such as heroin or fentanyl. The latter is 100 times more potent than traditionally prescribed morphine. In 2017 alone, fentanyl overdoses killed nearly 30,000 people in the United States, earning it the grim title of “Deadliest drug in American history,” according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC).

A bit of science Why does heroin or fentanyl trap so many young people in a bottomless spiral of addiction? What makes opioid dependence excruciatingly difficult to overcome is the fact that these drugs literally rewire the human brain—slowly, but permanently.

At first, “it’s like being hugged by Jesus,” a 24-year-old woman with an addiction to heroin reports. Others who have experienced heroin addiction cite intense relief, ecstasy, and an unparalleled sensation of wellbeing.

This intoxicating euphoria is due to heroin’s ability to stimulate the brain’s reward centres. The structure of opioid molecules resembles that of an endorphin, which is the body’s own natural narcotic, usually released following physical exercise—which is why a good workout helps relieve stress! By binding to neuronal receptors, endorphins signal the release of “feel-good” hormones such as dopamine, which is also released in large amounts when eating chocolate or having sex. By hijacking these brain receptors, opioid molecules are able to arouse similar yet even more powerful sensations of pleasure.

However, this effect soon wears off, bringing the user back to a basal state which, in comparison to the “high,” suddenly appears much duller than before.

Problems and worries re-emerge. Even worse, things that were previously enjoyable, like having an ice cream or watching a good movie, might now seem bland compared to the euphoria that only drugs can procure.

Little by little, the repeated use of opioids tilts the brain’s delicate biochemical balance and progressively leads to drug tolerance. In other words, brain receptors become less and less sensitive to the presence of opioid molecules, requiring a higher dose to create the same feeling of satisfaction.

So why can’t one simply quit opioids cold-turkey before things get out of hand? For someone whose body has become used to these drugs, sudden withdrawal not only leads to psychological symptoms, but also manifests itself physically: pain, spasms, vomiting, and diarrhoea add to debilitating anxiety and depression. The misery of withdrawal often feels

so unbearable that the only solution can seem like getting another fix—and quickly. Thus, the vicious cycle of dependence continues until doses become so large that the body cannot handle them anymore.

It comes without surprise that an opioid overdose can be fatal: the drug’s property as a depressant slows down respiration and lowers blood pressure.

This can lead to coma, permanent brain damage, cardiac or respiratory arrest, or death.

Of course, above is but an oversimplified plotline of opioid dependence—all is not hopeless for those who do experience heroin addiction. With proper help in treatment centres, a supportive group of peers, and a huge amount of willpower, recovery is certainly possible, but the process may take years.

So, what next?

In an effort to address this national health crisis, the United States Congress has passed the Opioid Crisis Response Act of 2018, which allocates a portion of the federal budget to improving access to addiction treatment or therapy, raising public awareness as a preventive measure, and boosting cutting-edge research to develop new non-opioid pain medication.

Similar measures on a smaller scale have been taken in Canada, with an emphasis on public education. Also, naloxone kits can now be obtained without a prescription at most pharmacies and are even available for free at certain locations. If administered in time, naloxone can temporarily reverse the symptoms of opioid overdose and save a life, without any risk of creating dependence.

It is crucial to acknowledge the complex and often invisible social issues fuelling the ongoing crisis; isolation or socioeconomic disadvantage are factors that put people at a greater risk of drug abuse.

Furthermore, the overall aging population in the Western world means that end-of-life palliative care (including pain management) will become an increasing concern in medicine.

Perhaps treating the glaring symptoms won’t be enough. For the opioid crisis to be eradicated, root causes like economic inequality and other social disadvantages must be addressed.

illustration

| tanuj ash kumar

ARTS AND CULTURE 11

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

In conversation with UofT's Ember Island Players Theatre An interview with Nam Nguyen and Sai Lian Macikunas arin klein staff writer

The Ember Island Players Theatre, previously known as Hotake Theatre Company, is a student-run theatre company that aims to “produce and facilitate the development of theatrical and musical works led by artists who identify with the Asian and Pacific Islander diaspora.” The company was established in September 2018 and produced its first show, Yellow Face, in December 2018. The Strand sat down with Artistic Director Nam Nguyen and Co-Artistic Producer Sai Lian Macikunas to talk about their experience starting a new drama society at UofT. The Strand: How did the Ember Island Players begin?

Sai: It had many beginnings. On my end, I pulled people together after seeing this year’s campus theatre season announcements. I was thrilled to see so many beautiful LGBT+ shows picked up but utterly crushed when I saw nearly every writer and director for almost every society was white. I went from upset, to sad, to angry, to productive—less out of specific, targeted spite and more out of righteousness. It’s possible almost no one except white people pitched shows, but that no society asks for people to consider more racially diverse works speaks volumes.

It felt like a systematic error, and we’re falling through the gaps.

It becomes a catch-22. No experience? No work. No work? No experience. Give Asian people visibility and opportunities to work. We aren’t going to be ignored, and we refuse to be shut out. It’s my form of protest.

Nam: That was the impulse for it for this year in particular.

But it had been coming for a number of years because we were coming off some good years for Asian theatre artists on campus.

We saw there was a potential for it, and we thought, “Let’s put something out there of our own.” No one’s going to do it for us, we’re going to have to put ourselves out there. We shouldn’t be waiting for other people to say “diversity, now.”

What have you learned from putting on Yellow Face last semester? Sai, how was your experience as director?

Sai: Yellow Face was an absolute rodeo, our first attempt to get off the ground as a company. We picked such an ambitious show. I had a really hard time overall, but I do feel proud of the work we presented, the opportunities I was able to make in doing it, and some of the moments I created. As a company, we learned that we need to delegate work more efficiently and more in advance. We also learned that we need to keep a better eye on every part of our work. How we handled a specific scene in its historical context slipped through the cracks (a failing as much mine as the company’s), and we are still working on reconciling what we wronged regarding how we nearly presented a significant and traumatic period of Japanese-Canadian and JapaneseAmerican history. We need to remember that how we handle and present every part of the stories we stage is significant, and though we have failed some, we have honoured others. What matters is that we stay as accountable for our failings as we do our successes. We need to stay critical, careful, and responsible for everything we do—good and bad.

Can you talk about your UofT Drama Festival show, an other tries to speak?

Nam: We put out a call for very short plays and thought we’d assemble those and see what we got. Some are more like sketches.

Wilf[red Moeschter] and I were working on this racism satire angle, and some of the other plays do that in a more subtle and dramatic way. Some plays are not about race at all, which I think is good, because though we did come with the mindset that we’re here as one group, the only thing we have in common is race—race as defined by the society we live in and not by anything that’s technically real. So, we also need to be representing ourselves in a way that’s not always about race.

TS: Nam, your original musical, A Perfect Bowl of Pho, debuted at the 2016 UofT Drama Festival. Now, it’s running at the Factory Theatre until February 10. What is that experience like?

Nam: I’m tired all the time, but it’s a good tired. We’re like an

old married couple at this point; we don’t have to worry about anything going wrong. We know people will like it enough, so it’s about how much more we can push that. When we started, the original director, Abby [Palmer], and I were like, “Are we going to find the demographic we need to tell the story?” As soon as we put out the call, we found the people we needed. All you have to do is build it and they will come. That goes for any writer, any demographic, whatever story you’re telling. Drama Fest is such an accessible way to throw your hat in the ring.

Now, Pho is open to a whole new set of people. It’s in a professional context, we’re getting paid, and we’re getting funding. For me, it was important to make sure the Vietnamese community at large also comes out: Vietnamese students on campus and on other campuses, but also my parents’ friends. I want them to feel like this is a place for them as well.

What do you see as the future for the Ember Island Players?

Nam: We’re asking ourselves, “Is this just something that’s a reaction, or is it something that we hope is a part of the institution here as well?” The only way you can guarantee your own representation is to put it out there yourself. I’m really hoping we develop enough of something to pass on.

Sai: Currently, I see that we continue to push. My hope was to make a stand for the Asian people involved with theatre at UofT, and I hope to move forward with that goal. Ultimately, if people want to continue under this front, I will be glad to help them, but my hopes are more in line with bringing awareness to the idea that the art that we create and that pertains to us has relevance, beauty, and value. I’m uncertain if I see myself

moving forward with the company, mostly because my goals are beginning to expand beyond UofT. How can people get involved with your company?

Sai: Reach out! If you want to help out, chat, or understand what we’re working on, feel free to talk to us. Even (or especially!) if you don’t have much experience, we’d love to help you build some.

Nam: We are also looking for crew for an other tries to speak.

Any final thoughts?

Nam: I hope that people come see A Perfect Bowl of Pho as well as an other tries to speak. Keep supporting art that is more accurate to the representation that we want in our world, our country, our city.

Sai: The lack of racial diversity in campus theatre is symptomatic of a society and a community that doesn’t value the artistic contributions or labour of non-white people. We have existed for a long time, and so has our work; keep digging to find it and searching to experience it. Keep acting, keep creating, keep working, keep thinking, keep existing. I’m rooting for you. an other tries to speak will be presented on February 7 at the UofT Drama Festival at Hart House Theatre. You can find the Ember Island Players Theatre on Facebook.

Interview has been edited for clarity and length

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | HARRISON WADE ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

Runway fashion—should we care?

If a designer wardrobe is not in your budget, is the runway still a worthwile spectator sport? illustration

noah kelly editorial assistant

In recent years, the high fashion establishment has adopted streetwear, workwear, and athleisure trends to present luxury clothing as an accessible commodity for the every-person, bringing its brands to a larger middle-income market. This strategy has been incredibly successful, as ready-to-wear designer goods now stand as an integrated fixture in the wardrobes of sneakerheads, street style buffs, and hypebeasts alike. Designers like Virgil Abloh, Raf Simons, and Stella McCartney have become cult figures followed closely by masses fascinated by their aesthetic visions.

With the increasing popularity of designer ready-to-wear has come a growing audience for the runway collections of the same brands. Runway fashion and its media have been carving out a larger place in the cultural zeitgeist as a derivative of popular designer streetwear. This has led me to ask: even if a designer wardrobe isn’t in your budget, is there value in runway fashion as a spectator sport? People’s thoughts on runway fashion usually sit strongly in the binary of either fascination or disdain— I'm interested in what drives us to land in either camp, and what exists in the space between.

What even is runway fashion?

The runway can generally be broken down into the categories of haute couture and ready-to-wear. Haute couture designs usually don’t make it to a larger consumer market and are created with the intention of experimentation, not paying any mind to price tag or the practicalities of everyday dress. These styles can be purchased in very limited runs, but each piece comes with an extra-hefty price tag.

Ready-to-wear styles are typically mass-produced in set sizes and can be bought directly from an online or physical retailer, like those on Bloor Street just north of The Strand's office (if you’ve never stepped foot in these hyper-bougie establishments, I’d recommend it—both to witness the oddity of their radical luxury, and for the free champagne). Brands can create both haute couture and ready-to-wear collections, often displaying each in separate runway collections.

Why the fascination?

Clothing is communication: of cultural background, personal history, sexuality, subcultures we align ourselves with, socioeconomic status, and taste. The body is a canvas on which we have the chance to display a stylized inference of who we are.

If we are dressing intentionally, we are displaying ourselves as

we want to be perceived. Dress is the external representation of self-image and attitude, or a cleverly constructed costume to mask insecurity.

Ideally, the runway is the space where a designer can expand on the terms of expression of everyday clothing. Here, they compose impressionistic dreamworlds to explore their aesthetic curiosities. The runway is a holistic experience, with extravagant props, sets, and performances coming together to construct the designer’s newly imagined decorative universe.

These spaces are built to push the boundaries of what is acceptable to wear—expressing the identities, questions, and inspirations held by their designers. Here, they explore cultural niches and push trends that trickle down to the street. And like all other art forms, runway fashion responds to and critiques greater societal trends.

Each era of counter-culture is synonymous with fashion trends that mirror its messaging and are often subsequently appropriated on the runway. Industrial colour palettes and baggy fits of 90s grunge mirrored the movement’s theme of alienation and its anti-establishment message. In the late 80s, North American economic recovery and the introduction of the CanadaUS free trade agreement ignited a wave of excess, inspiring the glam, big hair, and shoulder pads seen in our parents’ yearbook photos. In the current era, the internet has brought a democratization of “cool,” causing a larger breadth of influences to spill onto the runway. Formerly underground dress codes donned by hip-hop, skateboarding, and surf subcultures have conglomerated into the general trend of streetwear. Simultaneously, newly accessible online archives of historic photos and the popularity of thrift and vintage have inspired nostalgic trends referencing the turn of the 20th century and earlier.

Fashion does not operate in a vacuum. Like all other art forms, it interacts with social, economic, and cultural events in the world outside the industry.

Why the disdain?

The creative conditions of the runway described thus far have been an incredibly idealist perspective on the art form. The runway is a medium of expression, but it’s also a means of advertisement. It is innately muddied by the corporate context through which it is displayed.

The runway is a space of judgement—a scale where designs are weighed in the metric of potential sales. Established fashion houses use their shows to attract the eye of the press to further elevate their retail sales, while the income of small-scale designers can be largely dependent on buyers purchasing clothing displayed at their shows. These pressures can lead designers to

| katie doyle

appeal to populous designs in the need for commercial viability and cause chronic theft of ideas already proven in the consumer market. This makes some see the runway as purely a stage for branded hype where artistic vision is diluted with the drive to appeal to infamously narrow and exclusionary target audiences.

The runway is a known host to all forms of inequity. The industry is built on a foundation of inherent classism. The hefty price tag of luxury goods makes them only accessible to the economic elite, making any designer logo an icon of socioeconomic exclusion. The industry can be seen as a grand example of the self-interest and material excess that has led to a growing wealth gap. And the exclusion is not just in the price tag.

Historically, the runway lacks diverse representation. Models of colour, members of the LGBTQ+ community, and body types beyond the ideal model silhouette have been commonly left off the runway. Though steps have been taken to correct these discriminatory practices in recent years, incidents like Stefano Gabbana’s racist Instagram rant in tandem with Dolce & Gabbana’s racist ad campaign, Victoria’s Secret’s discriminatory casting practices against plus-size and transgender models, and Vogue’s misidentification of Noor Tagouri show that the industry has a long way to go.

Where do you land?

Should we care about runway fashion? Well, maybe. There is no one right answer. If you explore and are driven to be more intentional with your personal expression and ask more questions about the history and significance of the clothing you wear, amazing! If it’s not your speed, that’s good too. If you are able to spend the big bucks on your clothes and want to side-step the moral ambiguity that accompanies many high fashion labels, try to invest in products made ethically by small-scale designers or local artisans who pay their rent through their art. Being able to interact with the artists responsible for the designs we wear can lead to a greater knowledge of the reasoning behind the design, deepening personal understanding and pride for what we wear.

Barriers limiting access to the industry based on economic class, ethnicity, sexuality, and gender commonly turn people off from being interested in the runway. However, no artistic medium goes without instances of injustice. Though we should not let injustice be excused or normalized, it shows that to express our humanity, we must fight to create a space of personal justice within whichever medium we choose. If we are inspired by the potential for personal expression in fashion, we shouldn’t reject the medium for the flaws of its participants, but rather be a conscious consumer within it.

ARTS AND CULTURE 13

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

Review: Static Gestures An exercise in actively listening to art rashana youtzy contributor

One of the lesser-ventured spheres of the art world is the realm of sound art: it reconfigures sensation from typically ocular-centric domains to one that engages visitors more intimately. Electric Perfume offered an evening of sound performances on January 5 featuring Marla Hlady and Christof Migone, Sarah Tracy and Jason Gillingham, Wesley Peñalosa, Rob Cruickshank, and Raul Altosaar. This event, Static Gestures, was the third in the series “Making Sounds With Stuff.”

The difference between sound art and optical art is that there is no visual narrative to lead or invite a visitor into the work. Sound art decontextualizes otherwise ordinary objects and reconfigures them within an unknown setting. The whirring milk frother is no longer used to whip and instead rattles in a jar as its own performance. Performances such as Hlady’s and Migone’s make the sounds we fail to perceive now salient. They are akin to the phenomenon of inattentional blindness in that we are no longer deaf to the sounds in our auditory peripheries. Though sound art alone is stimulating and entertaining, artists such as Hlady and Migone

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| mia carnevale

offer a tangible experience through a display of art in practice—making sounds (with stuff ) in front of an audience.

Hlady’s sound pieces animate common objects into a new form, employing wind-up toys to play out a theatrical performance while a steel chain coils

itself on a turntable. Hlady practices this tactic of showcasing objects in unexpected ways in kinetic sculptural works. (The artist works in a breadth of media including sculpture, video, and site works, among others.) Alongside Hlady is Migone, a sound artist and writer who investigates language, voice, and performance in addition to several other pursuits. Migone offered an immersive display of his craft as patrons witnessed the careful flick of a switchboard, using the sound of the action as part of the performance rather than operating sound from the tool. One of the more confrontational sounds he produced was his self-submergence in a bag of packing Styrofoam, equipped with a microphone as he crunched and chewed his way through a cacophonic segment. The performance by the two artists lasted for about half an hour, and they used a variety of objects in their presentation, leaving visitors hypnotized by their calculated movements but also enthralled by their playful attitude in creating. There were several other artists featured that evening, and so I recommend seeing their work in future instalments of the series “Making Sounds With Stuff.”

More information for upcoming events and workshops at www.electricperfume.com

Finding light in times of darkness Come Up To My Room 2019

anna maria sordjan contributor

During its annual three-day alternative design exhibition, the Gladstone Hotel was once again transformed into a space featuring a variety of installations that showcased the intersection of art and design. From January 17 to 20, the historical hotel invited visitors to come and experience light, colour, and sound in fun and interactive ways. Come Up To My Room (CUTMR) invites artists to push beyond the boundaries of traditional art and design to create stimulating and immersive installations. Priced at ten dollars for students, the relative financial accessibility allows students to explore and experience art without having to pay the heftier price of most exhibits.

A central theme of this year’s exhibit was reimagining space and scale in creative ways. The exhibit featured more than 20 projects by 50 artists who were encouraged to create installations that channeled a playful lightheartedness.

As a nod to the darker atmosphere hovering over the world in 2018, artists were encouraged to dabble with ordinary perceptions of light, colour, and sound to transport visitors from everyday banality to something spectacular.

The exhibit sprawled from the first to fourth floors of the hotel, with installations everywhere—in corridors, hanging from the ceiling, and in the hotel rooms themselves. Upon entering the Gladstone, visitors were greeted not only by the friendly staff, but also by a giant piece of hair hanging above the front desk. “Hair Piece” by Anna Rose hovered in the hotel like a cloud in the sky. It was at once both close and far away; almost within grasp, the silky curls were enticing. In this installation, hair, something so intimate and personal, was displaced from the human body and transported to a different space.

Speaking of different spaces, “TRON209” by Bruno Billio took the everyday living room and transformed it into something that seemed to come from a techno party in space. By taking the everyday background of a studio and recontextualizing it into a black light version of itself, the installation invited visitors to step out of the banal and mundane and into a neon-coloured dreamworld.

Artists continued to toy with the idea of transforming the everyday in installations such as “Penumbra.” In this

installation, Becky Lauzon, Johnny Cann, and Michael Rennick took up the corner of one room, filling it with sculptures made from wood and glass placed on top of plastic crates. Windows were cut into each of these sculptures, allowing the lights around them to shine through and give off distinct shadowy backgrounds. The end result was two cityscapes: one physical and static, the other an ever-changing shadowscape encompassing the entire room.

Most installations revelled in transforming space into something fantastical and cheerful, but others enticed visitors through their ability to transfigure space into something that forces us to confront the uncanny and uncomfortable. Ryerson’s [R]ed[U]x Lab’s “Fraktur” was one of these installations. Located in Studio 206, it explored the ways expansion and contraction can be used to create a space mimicking human movement and breath. As you entered the room and approached the jet black walls, they

began to expand, like a lung displaced from its organic human body. The room enveloped those who entered into its darkness and forced them to confront the uncanniness of breath decontextualized from an organic atmosphere.

“Eastern Bloc (Collapse)” by Georgina Lee Walker and Youri Makovski also evoked an uncanny and looming sense of sadness and dread. The installation emulated a home in the midst of destruction. Huge chunks of grey wreckage covered the floor while traditional bright carpets hung from the ceiling and wall. This juxtaposition referenced the failed utopian vision of socialism in Eastern Europe and its haunting remains.

Come Up To My Room’s 2019 exhibition was as wonderful and innovative as ever. Combining playful and fun elements of light and space with more eerie and serious effects, the installations compelled everyone to take a step out of the ordinary and into something spectacular. photo

| brianna roye

14 STRANDED

EDITOR | LEO MORGENSTERN STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

Top five sexiest pictures of Con Hall The sexiest building on campus just keepings getting sexier leo morgenstern stranded editor

2. Just fuck me already Con Hall! I need it so bad!

1. Oh yeah. Ohhhhhh yeah.

3. Just as hot from the back! I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave baby.

4. Since I first entered Con Hall, I’ve wanted Con Hall to enter me.

5. Yummy yummy sexy sexy building.

Love hurts but not as much as me losing at my Bachelor fantasy league Dear Reader(s), Listen, I understand that during a holiday perpetuated by a company that makes folded paper it can be hard to hold back the tears. Hell, I cried three distinct times during Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse—and that’s not even a joke. The point is that the next time you hear that smooth, sexy, jazz vibrato of Michael Bublé (The Bube) and you have the urge to watch The Fault in Our Stars, stop yourself and remember that I’m losing in a Bachelor fantasy league. Yes, that’s right! The Bachelor!

The hit ABC show where Chris Harrison watches and facilitates the transition from polygamy to monogamy via the process known only as reality TV. This show is amazing! I don’t have to back up this show because, let me tell you, after 23 seasons the success rate has not improved, which makes watching the show all the more satisfying. If you’re getting into the show for the first time, though, learn from my mistakes and do NOT enter a Bachelor Fantasy League.

What is a Bachelor Fantasy League? (Rhetorical question.) It combines the fantasy title from those used by sports viewers… and pretty much nothing else. (Rhetorical answer.) What you have to do is pick which contestants you believe will be

around each week, and eventually win. Do you do this with stats, player history, projections, win rates, or any piece of information? Absolutely not! You pick them the same way The Bachelor does: based on their face alone. (Huge self high-five, pirouette, read horoscope, keg stand on box of rosé.) Given that’s all the information you have, my girlfriend is still beating me very, very badly. She mocks me, and it hurts.

This brings me to my main point. I need help! Now! If you have any information via tweets, peaks, or deets, please let me know. If you have access to the memory eraser from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind so I can alter her memory and swap fantasy cards, please lend it to me. (I know it’s a big ask but I will return it.) If you have any skill in travelling through time or forging documents, or are an ABC executive, now is the time to finally put your useless skills to, well, use. The choice of wine on movie nights rests in your hands, as well as my dignity. And whenever you’re feeling low just think of me… and how I’m losing at a BACHELOR FANTASY LEAGUE!!!!!

Sincerely, Max

STRANDED 15

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

Guide to surviving winter at UofT sumeeta farrukh staff writer

Winter is a time of hardship for most students.

Food is scarce, icy winds howl, snow falls, and bitter cold temperatures persist—at least here at the University of Toronto. For some students, the strategy they employ for coping with this harsh season is hibernation. Among the hibernators, UofT students have an extremely good survival rate in an ordinary winter. Hibernation is the mechanism that students use to conserve energy and reduce their internal fires of metabolism. For a long time, people thought the students slept through the winter in cozy dens and emerged in the spring fully charged.

However, far from being a long, uninterrupted sleep, hibernation consists of periods of sleep punctuated by periods of arousal. Sleep time is long during the dead of winter but is shorter at the beginning and end of the season. To prepare for this long season, students feed ravenously from midsummer through the end of autumn, gleaning up to 20,000 calories in a day. Here in the Interior, carbohydrateladen blueberries contribute to a large portion of this caloric intake. Students are omnivores and will eat meat too, including ground squirrels, carrion, and whatever they can find. By the end of autumn, a student will have gained about four or five inches of body fat and more than doubled the insulation provided by their pelt.

As the student enters hibernation, their metabolic processes such as body temperature, heart rate, and respiratory rate are reduced. But students do not lower the body temperature as much as once was thought. Their hibernation temperature is around 88 degrees Fahrenheit while waking temperature is 100 degrees. This relatively high sleep-

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ing temperature allows students to become fully alert if aroused, perhaps to enable students to protect themselves from predators and other dangers without unnecessarily depleting their energy re-

| fiona tung

serves. Over the course of a hibernating season, it is thought that students use approximately 4,000 calories a day, which results in a weight loss of about 20 percent of their body weight by spring.

I’m starting a GoFundMe to raise money to buy a drone that I can use to look for my old drone that I lost I’m all alone without my drone howard druskin looking for my drone

16 STRANDED

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 29 JANUARY 2019

What does the “O” stand for in The Varsity Editor-in-Chief Jack O. Denton’s name?

Cracking the case: an investigative report Hello Members of Strand Publications, Don’t get us wrong, Jack O. Denton is a stellar name. Truly one of the greats in baby name history. But with every baby and new baby name comes literally dozens of missed opportunities.

Here is more than one dozen of them: Jack O’Lantern Jack Oligarchy Denton Jack Onomatopoeia Denton Jack Olive Gardenton Jack Oh, the Places You’ll Go! Denton Jack Oohlala! Denton Jack Organic, Fair Trade™ and locally grown Denton Jack O Captain! My Captain! Denton J. Orthodontic Dental Jack Orange-you-glad-I-didn’t-say Denton?

Jack Oops! I did it a Denton Jack onesearch.library.utoronto.ca Denton Jack Oldmacdonaldhadafarm e i e i O Denton Jack OSAP (rip) Denton Jack On My Way! Denton Jack Orientalism-by-Edward Said-the-foundational-text-of-postcolonial-theory Denton

The Strand would like to formally request that the O’Dentons submit Jack’s original, official birth certificate via mail, addressed to Strand Editors at 150 Charles Street West, Room 153, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M5S 1K9.

If you have any information about Jack One-Earring Denton’s middle initial, please contact The Strand at www.JackOogieOogieOogieOyOyOyYayyyyyyVicDenton.ca or through our new News Tipline at thestrand.ca/tips.

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