the
STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 64, ISSUE 8 | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
02 NEWS
EDITORS | DREW-ANNE GLENNIE AND SARAH ABERNETHY NEWS@THESTRAND.CA
Straddling environmentalisms A conversation with professor and entrepreneur Kirk Johnson ANGELINA ZAHAJKO & ROY SHI CONTRIBUTOR & STAFF WRITER
Professor Kirk Johnson: I graduated in a world where anything was possible, but there Humanity is tied to its natural environments. were also people like Gordon Gekko. I saw that As natural systems become more fragile, there were two doors in front of me, and I did not environmentalists are working hard to restore the want to be a “Wolf of Wall Street.” I had already planet—but there’s a catch. seen climate change affecting the world. I’d spent The mainstream environmentalist movement summers by the same reefs in Puerto Rico where I has always tried to protect the environments of grew up, and I would see the reefs getting bleach certain people. In contemporary memory, the here and bleach here. sixties and seventies are romanticized as a time When I graduated university as an engineer, of “hippies” and “tree-huggers” who embraced I had a choice. I could work for Motorola, but counterculture and fought against “the man.” In I felt like I didn’t want to be one of those guys. reality, these activists consisted mainly of the white Sustainability though, that really appealed to me. middle-class and often excluded minorities. In It was like a giant puzzle and nobody knew the fact, in a 1972 poll of Sierra Club members, an answer to it. environmental non-profit still active today, only 15% of group members reported including specific Do you have a moment in your career that environmental issues of marginalized communities you're particularly proud of? within their activism. The hardest program that I’ve had to do was The world is one of different Ontario’s High Performance New Construction “environmentalisms.” In white environmentalist Program. There was no appetite for it. If I incent circles, environmentalism means pushing vegan you to build green today, that building won't be diets, electric cars, and the survival of endangered built for another five to seven years. There’s no species. In Black environmentalist circles, ribbon cuttings right away for the next quarter. environmentalism often means ensuring a steady It was an uphill battle but I knew that it supply of clean food and water for families, had to happen. Every G20 country had a green fighting to keep public green spaces accessible, and construction program and we did not. I'm most ensuring the survival of their own communities. proud of that program. At the time it was the Marginalized communities are largest green construction program in Canada and disproportionately affected by climate change, one of the largest in North America as well. yet mainstream environmentalist movements continue to leave BIPOC individuals to fight What do you think are the challenges for justice alone. However, many amazing Black that you face when designing sustainability environmentalists are working hard to change the programs? landscape of mainstream environmentalism. When you are designing a program, you One environmentalist currently breaking are stopping business as usual, as in rich people barriers in the Greater Toronto Area is Professor getting bonuses for doing nothing. If you don't ask Kirk Johnson. Johnson has dedicated over twenty yourself who benefits and who suffers from your years of his life to reimagining a Canada powered actions, you will find that forces will marshal to by low-carbon, net-zero, sustainable energy. After a prevent you from changing things. long and successful career designing transformative I recognized that going in. When you grow up sustainable energy programs such as Toronto’s in Puerto Rico, you find out very quickly that who Better Building Partnership, he founded his own benefits and who suffers will determine your life. company, Eco-Efficiency Consulting. He shares When I got into designing programs, I focused on his breadth of knowledge with his students at stakeholder engagement. I find out what is going Humber College, where he teaches Sustainability to benefit the most people the easiest, which lets Entrepreneurship. Between 2017 to 2020, he me build in things that are morally important. served as Board Chair for Earth Day Canada. In an interview with The Strand, Johnson How is representation in your field? shared his story and how he is changing the field There's a lot of representation at the junior as a Black leader within one of the world’s whitest level. At the team leader level, it's still pretty good. movements. When you get to the manager level, it starts to be noticeable that people of colour are not around. The Strand: What led you to pursue When it gets to the director level, you’re the only sustainability policy in your career? person in the meetings. When you get to the VP PHOTO | COURTESY OF KIRK JOHNSON
level, there are none around, period. When it finally gets to the leadership and CEO level, there's a lot of representation, but sometimes that representation doesn't have a corresponding EDI thrust. It's like having that representation is their EDI policy. If I'm here because I'm your representation person, then you picked the wrong guy because I'm going to tell you how to fix every damn thing, not just sit there. Was there a time you felt disadvantaged as a Black person in your career? There was this time when a supervisor I reported to felt like it was appropriate to have an All Lives Matter discussion with me in a meeting. There's those kinds of awkward cringy moments, but I don't mind because I know trolls and I can manage them. Canada is not like the United States, where they will just tell you, “I don't like you.” It's a very polite society and it's very passive aggressive. But I only ever focus on actions. I forget about words. Like, I come from a Caribbean family. Your words ain't got nothing on that. Just come to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are strong words. What are the ways that you help make the field of environmentalism more inclusive? You have to get really good at finding alternate channels. The standard procurement processes will not help you. I’ve hired people through mentoring programs, engagement programs, and internship programs. We would use those channels to find people and once we had them in the program, 25% to 75% of the people we hired ended up getting long term contracts or full time gigs. I’m kind of like a personal trainer. People that are in underrepresented groups don't have the vocabulary or the experience, they didn't go to the private schools, they didn't get that free internship because they had to work. You have to be their friend, you have to protect them a bit. Which current project are you most excited about? It’s actually an EDI project. Whenever anybody reports numbers on diversity, it's all national numbers. The problem is that lots of work is in urban centres, which are far more diverse. My project is to run and design a program that trains people to the actual representation of the city. I'm doing that for energy advisors right now. What are some challenges in starting a business as a Black person? Expect BS and don't be deterred by it. I was the engineer once on this project for energy management. I show up with the plans to lead this meeting and somebody asks “Oh, are you the courier?” He knew damn well I was not the courier. I just turned around and said, “oh, are you the secretary?” You diffuse through comedy and move on. Hank Aaron is my hero and he put up with shit. My dad put up with shit. We think we put up with shit but it's super polite. Other people had it harder. The African phrase is “an elephant does not worry about flocks.” With equity, diversity, and inclusion, you have to take a long view. There are no shortcuts. My mom said to me once, “Listen, Kirk, nothing changes.” I thought she was being dark. She told me, “You listen to me carefully. What we consider nothing changes every day.” That advice always stuck with me. It's those tiny steps. Change what somebody considers nothing. If you can do that every day, you will build up momentum. If you are interested in supporting Black environmentalist organizations, check out: Afri-Can FoodBasket Black Environmentalist Alliance Black Farmers Collective EcoJustice Canada Sundance Harvest
NEWS 03
@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
Special research summary: Students as diversity workers
Black student activists at UofT explore the challenges and rewards of their work
PHOTO | HANA NIKCEVIC
NANA KOOMSON CONTRIBUTOR
For this special issue of The Strand, Unravelled asked Nana Koomson, a fourth year student studying Global Health, Anthropology, and Immunology, to write about her ethnography of Black students performing diversity work. This research was conducted for an ethnography practicum and can be found on the University of Toronto’s Ethnography Lab. In 2014’s On Being Included: Racism and Diversity in Institutional Life, Sara Ahmed dwells on the concept of diversity champions. She explains that diversity champions are individuals who have a genuine commitment to diversity. Drawing on some of Ahmed’s ideas to explore how students perform diversity within the University, I used participant observation within three sites and interviewed four Black student leaders. Creating spaces The students interviewed believed that they were diversity champions when they were creating spaces for Black students within a university they perceived as a predominantly “white space.” This was exemplified when the president of BLVCK expressed that, as president of the club, she was able to connect to both incoming and current Black students at the University of Toronto in a college where there were not many Black people. This was important to her because it was something she was missing until she herself discovered BLVCK. In her book, Ahmed explains that she was one of two faculty of colour in a Race Equity Team within her university. This replicated some of the problems that needed to be addressed because it spoke to the lack of diversity and inclusion of faculty of colour within her institution. Moreover, as she explains, “whiteness” tends to be visible to those who do not inhabit it. For them, white spaces are an assertion that they are not part of the norm. Diversity is illustrated as a diversion from what is normal. Thus, for BLVCK’s President, creating
a Black space within what was a typically “white space” was exemplary of diversity work. Similar to Ahmed, the fact that she created or fostered these spaces because she could not find Black connections was an indication that her diversity work was essential. Ultimately, students imagined themselves as diversity champions because they created much-needed spaces that diverted from the norm as informed from their own experiences of not belonging. No one really credits us Despite the many challenges they experienced and the sacrifices they made as part of their diversity work, students felt as though the University did not recognize or support the work they did. Most student leaders I interviewed expressed how difficult it was to maintain a balance between work, school, and diversity work. This led to immense frustrations, especially since some students believed that much of the antiracist work within the University was placed on their shoulders. As one student leader expressed: “Things happen all over the University, such as the vandalization of the Woodsworth building with racial slurs. Nobody knows about it except us and unless we speak about it, nobody will know about it … No one really credits us for the diversity work that we do … I have never heard a simple ‘This group is doing well!’” According to Ahmed, working on diversity and equity entails accepting an uneven distribution of commitment rather than a fantasy that everyone can share responsibility. For many student leaders, this unequal distribution was apparent in their commitment to part time jobs within the University, their commitment to their education, and a commitment to their diversity work. Student leaders were pulled in so many different directions while it felt as though the University did nothing. For student leaders involved in anti-racist work, this was further exemplified by how much more work they had to put into anti-racist efforts within the University.
Puzzles and conundrums The first puzzle came when I discovered that despite frustrations and feelings of anger, students still pursued diversity work even when there was space for them to back out. Moreover, as the president of BLVCK explained, “I don’t feel like I am doing enough. I feel like I should be doing more with the position I am in.” The second puzzle presented itself when groups such as the Black Student Experience group (BSE) at Innis College—an administratively led student group that aimed to amplify the voices of Black students through the collaboration of administrators, staff, and students—were discovered to have institutional will when it comes to increasing the diversity of Black students within the University. This group not only held themselves accountable, but they took the time to listen to the experiences of Black students to determine how to best support them. Despite the work of the BSE, students did not trust them, resulting in a “damned if you do, and damned if you don’t” conundrum as efforts to increase diversity were met with mistrust. Not only did students interpret the diversity work of the institution as insincere, but there was a real fear that this work was short term. This was on account of the very few administratively led groups on campus that resembled the BSE. However, administrators could not simply sit back and do nothing: doing so would continue to propagate an institution that is experienced as a white space, creating room for institutional racism and the exclusion of people of colour. The University as an institution must determine how to best relate to students so that they are supported, and their work is recognized. There needs to be more Black Student Experience groups led by administrators who can precipitate real changes through their funding and connections to major players within the University.
04 EDITORIAL
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | KHADIJA ALAM EDITOR@THESTRAND.CA
BLVCKcellence in the Celebration Issue
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Celebrating beauty, creativity diversity, love, and culture
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The Strand has been the newspaper of record for Victoria University since 1953. It is published 12 times a year with a circulation of 1200 and is distributed in Victoria University buildings and across the University of Toronto’s St. George campus. The Strand flagrantly enjoys its editorial autonomy and is committed to acting as an agent of constructive social change. As such, we will not publish material deemed to exhibit racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, or other oppressive language.
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Many of my close friends, if not all, know my love for Vic by now. And not only do I talk about the beautiful Old Vic building (which I have so many photos of ), but I often share what the community has to offer. Vic is more than just a learning institution. I have so much to say—from my encounter with the Dean’s and Registrar’s offices, to the library and the dining hall. So much. Starting my studies here as an international student, I never imagined I would feel so much at home at this college, but I have been constantly surrounded by amazing people. Writing this is making me indulge in reminiscence. I might shed a tear after this. As well, if my friends were to describe me, they’d say I easily make connections. Maybe I’m a social butterfly. And for this reason, I bump into people I know quite often (if not all the time) when I’m around Vic, and whenever that happens, I receive good vibes and positive energy from them. Some compliment my outfits, others my hair, and others are just excited to see me and vice versa. “That’s kind of you,” “You look beautiful today,” “I appreciate you,” “Excited to have you on our team!”. Simple
yet powerful words that I receive time and again, which make me feel beautiful, appreciated, heard, and cared for. Although people may say them as a ‘bythe-way,’ words go a long way, at least for me. And I choose to do the same—to make others feel the same way I feel when someone says gratifying, positive and kind things to me. I hope it brightens their days as much as it does mine. It's the simple ways of showing appreciation to one another that got me thinking about how I can extend that to a wider circle. I think it’s time to extend appreciation to our communities. And as we approach Black History month, we choose to extend it to the Black community, as we approach Black History month. Black culture encompasses so much—beyond the pain, beyond discomfort, beyond soreness. Today we choose to celebrate Black excellence: leadership, diversity, resilience, love. Today, we choose to celebrate Black culture: the beauty, creativity, diversity, all of it. I invite you do the same. It is my hope that the Celebration Issue helps you appreciate our cultures. In the News section, we present an interview with Kirk Johnson, a Professor, an environmentalist,
and an entrepreneur whose work encompasses sustainable energy. As well, Nana Koomson presents her ethnographic research on diversity work Black students have been doing on campus, under the Unravelled subsection. In Opinions, Ashvini Giridaran presents eight new releases by Black authors and why you need to read them. Joël Ndongmi writes of Black influences on popular music, citing the example of K-pop Afrobeats. Associate Opinions Editor Abi Akinlade breaks down some of the most iconic Black Twitter moments. In the Features section, aspects of Black Fashion are presented by Zindzi Malanca and myself. In Science, the work of the Black Scientists’ Task Force on Vaccine Equity and the work of UofT’s Black Research Network is presented. In Arts and Culture, Furqan Mohamed writes a memoir for bell hooks, Kalliopé Anvar McCall writes of Spike Lee’s work and the talented artists highlighted in his new show, and Lashae Watson writes the Piece of Vic column. As well, Makgofe Mathipa shares a list of exciting books by Black authors. In poetry, Imani King presents two poems dedicated to her mother. Lastly, beautiful art by Renee Jagdeo is showcased on the back cover.
OPINIONS 05
EDITOR | EMMA PAIDRA OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA
Black influences on popular music What does Black Twitter have to say about K-pop Afrobeats? JOËL NDONGMI CONTRIBUTOR
Over recent years, the music genre Afrobeats has experienced dazzling success as the sound has found an international audience beyond African borders. This is thanks to artists such as Wizkid, Tiwa Savage, and Burna Boy. When I listen to Afrobeats, the rhythmic and autotuned melodies enchant and connote some type of summer feel. As a West African, Afrobeats feels culturally relevant, as it employs West African Pidgin English, which I grew up hearing around me. Although they are often confused with one another, “Afrobeat” and “Afrobeats” are two different genres (albeit with multiple similarities). The Afrobeat genre was pioneered by Nigerian artist Fela Kuti. According to Professor Sola Olorunyomi, “Fela’s Afrobeat also tapped a myriad of sources ranging from basic Nigerian traditional rhythms, Highlife, jazz and Latin elements—over a structure that is essentially a criss-cross African rhythm.” Highlife refers to Ghanaian blending jazz and African music traditions that emerged during Ghana’s colonial period in the 1950s. The Afrobeat genre is Pan-African in character. Interestingly enough, Fela Kuti was an activist, and through his music, he would discuss pertinent topics for his African audience. In Kuti's song “Why Dey Black Man Suffer,” he says: “Our riches dem take away to their land / In return dem give us their colony / Dem take our culture away from us.” As the song progresses, he explores the British colonization of Nigeria and the loss of culture that ensued due to this oppression. On the other hand, the Afrobeats genre refers to general African popular music, including “African and Western music, juju, dancehall, soca, Naija beats, house, and hiplife, a Ghanian take on hip-hop.” Nowadays, “Afrobeat” and “Afrobeats” are used interchangeably. For the purpose of this article, I will simply refer to “Afrobeats” to encompass music coming out of the African continent. Like Fela Kuti, Black people have been pushing melodical boundaries and introducing new types of music throughout history. Various genres have been influenced by Black people, ranging from jazz, country, house, and techno music. Black creativity reshapes and regenerates music globally. Recently, Black influence has had a role to play in the so-called Korean Wave. “Korean Wave” is the
ILLUSTRATION | SEAVEY VAN WALSUM
name given to the surge of enthusiasm regarding Korean culture. This is best exemplified through the medium of K-pop, where Korean artists take inspiration from R&B and hip-hop to create their greatest hits. This connection isn’t something new; K-pop has often borrowed from Black music. Sometimes, this cultural borrowing is interpreted as problematic. One could argue that certain K-pop groups engage in some type of Black cosplay and profit from it. For example, some artists have engaged in blackface, mouthed racial slurs, and utilized Black hairstyles to emulate Black culture. On Twitter, the song “Bolo” by South Korean rapper Penomeco ignited discussions about the emerging hybrid genre of Afrobeats and K-pop. The song is evidently inspired by Nigerian music, as the word “bolo” is Nigerian pidgin for a person that is a “fool” or “silent person.” I immediately listened to the song to better grasp the discussion happening on Twitter. The flow and the autotuned voice were reminiscent of the songs I grew up with. I liked it… to some extent. Closer inspection of the lyrics revealed the character of the song. There’s a hint of Nigerian pidgin with the phrase “Make I see you carry body.” Later in the song, both artists sing “Omalicha” in reference to a woman with a “perfect body.” For context, “Omalicha” is an Igbo word for “beauty.” In the song, featured artist YDG also says “It’s the dancehall,” which I assume refers to the type of song he thinks he’s making. From my perspective, the conglomeration of dancehall and Nigerian pidgin evokes some appeal to a manufactured “African culture” that doesn’t exist, simply because Black cultures aren’t a monolith. It’s also important to acknowledge that Penomeco discloses influences on his music—he states Nigerian artists as a major inspiration. I realized that I had mixed feelings because I was having a hard time deciphering if this was cultural appropriation or appreciation. I endeavoured to search Twitter in order to find an answer to my internal debate. Users were stunned to hear this music for the first time. User @Oskwamz tweeted “South Koreans are now doing Afro beats [flushed face emoji].” Black Twitter also had conflicting opinions regarding the song. Another user (@_ najthehumansaid) commented, “They better not forget to credit black people for their music.”
Some were impressed at the international appeal of a homegrown phenomenon. User @4chibuzor tweeted: “I am impressed. Yoruba, Igbo and Pidgin English. Naija spreading the influence of Afrobeats. Good music by the way.” Others have drawn from their own experiences with racism to inform their reaction to Afrobeats K-pop: “It's crazy how much the developed world is racist towards us but LOVE copping our sh*t!” Many on Black Twitter believe that Africans should gatekeep Afrobeats before it is “too late.” User @loveiceprincesz tweeted, “It's 2023, what Wizkid did for afrobeats will be forgotten because everyone is now vibing to the current biggest ‘afrobeats’ song by BTS. Gatekeep afrobeats today [thumbs up emoji].” This tweet speaks to the fear that Afrobeats will no longer be owned by Black people and will become an international genre. I can understand where this user is coming from. As cultural anthropologist Maureen Mahon writes, Black people are exploited for their music while serving “as a ‘central creative resource’ in the industry and the culture.” While I can appreciate this perspective, I do believe there is some irony in trying to gatekeep Afrobeats. First, when exactly will it be “too late” to rescue Afrobeats? Who makes that demarcation? Moreover, it’s normal for artists to look beyond their artistic borders to innovate their own music. Afrobeats is, in essence, an amalgamation of various types of genres both from the African continent and beyond. User @EmmanOwoniyi points at the “irony in trying to gatekeep afrobeats” because, as user @Hasan_eat emphasized, “If other genres had done gatekeeping, afrobeats wouldn't be in existence.” After exploring opinions on the Black Twitterverse, I still don’t have an answer as to whether Penomeco’s song is cultural appropriation. I also find myself more confused about whether or not Africans should gatekeep Afrobeats. While I don’t have a full answer, I’ve come to understand the complexity of this question. I also think this discussion should be approached with nuance and grace. Ideally, in a world of mutual respect and equity, music will be free to travel across borders and enrich the lives of friendly strangers that don’t necessarily share the same cultural background.
06 OPINIONS
EDITOR | EMMA PAIDRA OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA
Eight new releases by Black writers to add to your TBR ASAP From a Get Out-esque social horror to a cutesy YA contemporary novel and everything in-between
PHOTO | ALFONS MORALES ASHVINI GIRIDARAN CONTRIBUTOR
In her TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie laments the dangers of telling a single narrative about a group of people. She states that when you “show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again…that is what they become.” In the wake of the death of George Floyd in the Spring of 2020, my social media timelines flooded with book recommendations. This occurrence wasn’t particularly unique in and of itself—as an avid reader and book blogger of eight years, I almost exclusively followed book-related social media accounts. What was remarkable about these recommendations, however, is that they all appeared quite homogenous. I was seeing the same books recommended over and over again. Nonfictional recommendations often consisted of So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo and White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo. Fictional recommendations often included the works of award-winning writers and thinkers such as Toni Morrison and James Baldwin. The reality is, in their commitment towards anti-racism, many people around the world looked towards books to better inform themselves of the Black experience. While this may be a tremendous amount of weight and pressure to place on a single medium, I can sympathise with the notion in theory. After all, books are vessels that allow us to better understand the perspective of another, experiencing the world in an engaging way—albeit temporarily—through their shoes. The works of Baldwin and Morrison are spectacular and acclaimed for a reason; they weave words together to paint pictures and offer insight in ways that seem endlessly meaningful. But culturally, our discourse around these works often centres around Black trauma. This discussion is vital to have (I did include a collection of Hurston essays below!), but in learning to be an ally to the Black community, we cannot allow a single story
or narrative to dominate the discussion. Every month, there are tons of interesting, diverse, and contemporary reads by incredible Black authors that deserve greater recognition and celebration. So, with that being said, here are eight new releases by Black writers that you need to add to your reading lists ASAP:
which informed his reaction to Isaac coming out to him. Recommended for fans of Ta-Nehisi Coates, Don’t Cry for Me is a hard-hitting story about family, love, and forgiveness. Black Cake by Charmaine Wilkerson (February 1) Black Cake follows Byron and Benny, siblings who, in the wake of their mother’s death, inherit her recipe for a traditional Caribbean Black cake and a voice recording that sends them on a journey from London to the Caribbean to San Francisco in pursuit of a long-lost sibling. On the journey, they learn more about their mother, family, culture and history.
You Don’t Know Us Negroes & Other Essays by Zora Neale Hurston (January 4) Bound together for the first time in a collection, You Don’t Know Us Negroes & Other Essays features some of author and activist Zora Neale Hurston’s sharpest essays. The works span the course of 35 years, from the Harlem Renaissance to the early beginnings of the Civil Rights You Truly Assumed by Laila Sabreen movement, and explore subjects such as Hurston’s (February 8) point of view on African-American art and her Written by a current student at Emory experiences during the Jim Crow era. The essays University, You Truly Assumed is a YA novel paint a beautiful mosaic of the legendary Hurston’s about three Black Muslim women who begin experience. an online journal called “You Truly Assumed” as a mechanism of coping with a recent terrorist Wahala by Nikki May (January 17) attack and a resultant wave of Islamaphobia. The Wahala—meaning “trouble” in Yoruba—is novel explores race, what it means to be Black and a novel centred around three best friends whose Muslim in the US, and the consequences which bond rivals that of the girls from Sex and the City. must be faced after speaking one’s truth. Ronke is an idealist who’s suffered from a slew of bad boyfriends; Boo is a mother and wife that feels Cherish Farrah by Bethany C Morrow unfulfilled; and Simi is the golden girl debilitated (February 8) by imposter syndrome. Everything changes when Described as a social horror for fans of the Isobel interrupts the group dynamic; at first, the film Get Out, Cherish Farrah follows two teenage positive implications of her presence seem endless, Black girls in an otherwise white country club but things quickly go astray and the girls’ friendship whose lives become entangled in unsettling ways. fissures. Wahala is a thriller about friendship, 17-year-old Farrah is jealous of Cherish Whitman, culture and betrayal. who has been raised and spoiled by her adoptive white parents. Despite her own parents’ warnings, Don’t Cry for Me by Daniel Black Farrah draws closer to Cherish and the Whitmans, (February 1) discovering that between debilitating illnesses, In Don’t Cry for Me, Jacob writes letters on fever dreams, and a self-writing journal, things his deathbed, attempting to make amends with really aren’t how they seem. his estranged gay son, Isaac. He hopes to share with him their family history in Arkansas, one Happy reading! that traces back to times of enslavement, his rocky relationship with his mother, and the experiences
OPINIONS 07
@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
#Blackout Six reasons why the Black community runs Twitter ABI AKINLADE ASSOCIATE OPNIONS EDITOR
When Jack Dorsey, Evan Williams, and Biz Stone founded Twitter back in 2006, I’m 60 percent sure that they didn’t know how much the app was going to blow up, and I’m 99 percent sure that they had no idea it would lead to a verified cultural phenomenon—Black Twitter. Twitter’s Black users, affectionately and simply known as “Black Twitter,” have become an entire community, spanning across the diaspora to create some of the most out-of-pocket, viral, and shocking tweets of all time. There are several stages to joining Twitter. When you first made your account, perhaps in 2014 or 2015, chances are you had no idea what the app was or how to use it, so you fled back to the relative safety of Instagram’s Valencia filter and excessive grain. A few weeks later, your curiosity got the best of you. What is it about Twitter? Hell if I know, but it’s insanely addictive. You still don’t really know what the fuck you’re doing, but at least it’s fun! It’s not until phase three that you become a Certified Twitter User—if you know what subtweeting, “oomf,” fleets, “ratioed,” spaces, and mentions are, you’re on your way. Twitter as a whole is already known for being controversial, but Black Twitter takes things to a whole other level. Topics of non-ending, contentious debate include: whether men should pay on the first date, the notorious diaspora wars between Africans and African-Americans, whether we’ve had enough “Black trauma porn,” the existence of colourism, “pretty privilege,” and more. I want to use this article to take a little trip down memory lane. Here are some of Black Twitter’s most memorable moments (in no particular order), including the good, the bad, and the ugly:
2) December 21 superpowers In December 2020, during an attempt to claim that COVID vaccines would fundamentally change people’s genetic code, Twitter user @ lottidot wrote, “As Black people, genetically we are stronger and smarter than everyone else, we are more creative, on December 21 our real DNA will be unlocked and [a] majority will be able to do things that we thought were fiction.” The tweet has over 15,000 quotes and 18,000 likes to date, with people creating memes about Black superheroes and swearing that they could suddenly punch through walls and turn invisible when December 21 came around. Personally, I’m still waiting for my powers, but the tweet was funny as hell. Extra points because “Negro Solstice” has now become an annual occurrence.
1) Yahoo’s Twitter Fail In 2017, Yahoo Finance got epically dragged when they tweeted an article preview about Trump wanting a “much bigger navy”... but with an “n” instead of a “b” in the word “bigger”... Obviously, Black Twitter jumped on this one, creating 24,000 tweets in the time it took for Yahoo to delete the preview and apologise for the spelling error. The hashtag #n*****navy, as well as potential ship names like the “USS Hennessey,” were trending the entire night (a night that was probably sleepless for whichever social media intern made the typo).
3) @emoblackthot reveal Only OGs will remember @emoblackthot, a Twitter account with over 177,000 followers that was known for tweeting relatable jokes and constant reminders to drink water and do your skincare routine (they were so famous that celebrities like Ariana Grande, Megan Thee Stallion, and Lil Nas X would interact with them on the timeline). The catch? No one knew who was behind the account—their profile picture was just a pink heart emoji against a purple background, and they never dropped any hints about their identity other than the fact that they were Black and a girl (hints that included talking about period cramps and the struggles that darkskin Black women face). It turned out that only one of those things was true… On October 19, 2019, an interview with PAPER Magazine went viral, exposing @ emoblackthot as a 23-year-old Black man named Isiah Hickland. The vitriol that erupted was swift, and he was forced to delete both the main account and his new personal account, despite hoping that he would be able to rebrand.
going to the movies dressed as the characters from the film and/or in traditional African clothing, a slew of jokes were created about the plot, the MCU in general, and Black moviegoers. Black Panther was a huge win for the community (and the box office) and I can’t wait to do it all again when the second one drops this year!
5) #Verzuz The #Verzuz challenges (created by Timbaland and Swizz Beats) were a series of song battles livestreamed on Instagram that pitted two artists against each other to see which one had the better discography. These challenges arguably saved quarantine, engaging as many as a million viewers at a time and featuring battles like Brandy vs. Monica, DMX vs. Snoop Dogg, and Ashanti vs. Keyshia Cole, among others. If you weren’t watching the battles on Instagram Live last summer and immediately running to Twitter to participate in the debates, you weren’t doing it right. (Drake vs. Kanye…who y’all got?) 6) HTGAWM/Scandal/Insecure Although I have a soft spot for Insecure (go watch it if you haven’t!), I decided to include all of these shows because each of them dominated the timeline at one point or another. How to Get Away With Murder, Scandal, and Insecure are just three shows that revolutionized the portrayal of Black characters in television, and the timeline always had a lot to say about whichever episode was airing that day (don’t get me started on the series finales). From “it’s handled” to “Bonnie, wake up!” to #LawrenceHive (to making fun of Kerry Washington’s teeth and Viola Davis’ snot tears…), Black Twitter has tweeted it all…
These are just a few out of dozens of iconic examples, but if you take anything away from this piece, it should be the acknowledgement of just how much of an influence Black culture has on our society. Twitter is just one small way that Black people get to express their creativity and uncanny ability to make jokes out of literally any situation. 4) The release of Black Panther Our community has been through a lot, but with This one hardly requires an explanation. When the right hashtags and a healthy dose of humour, the first movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe we’ll keep getting through it together. <3 with an all-Black cast was released in 2018, everyone on Black Twitter collectively lost their shit. Aside from sharing wholesome pictures of
08 FEATURES
EDITOR | ANNA SOKOLOVA FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA
On celebrating
From queer pioneers to History: Pioneers of queer Black fashion ZINDZISWA MALANCA VICE PRESIDENT, BLVCK
When we think about fashion and Blackness as concepts, there is always an emphasis placed on the role of history. Our cultures, clothes, hair, and accessories have a longstanding relationship with this history, one that is undeniably intertwined with oppression. This article delves into the facet of Black culture pertaining to fashion. We will be looking at some pioneers of Black queer fashion and how their lives, struggles, and desires to make an impact have shaped what it means to be queer in the world of fashion and what it means to be LGBTQ+ in BIPOC spaces. The LGBTQ+ community has led the race when it comes to fashion. While BIPOC have a long and spotty history with accepting queerness within their communities (mainly as a result of colonialism), we must acknowledge the roles that Black LGBTQ+identifying individuals have had in creating safe queer spaces everywhere, including in fashion. We have to be mindful that while not identifying as cisgender and heterosexual always comes with discrimination in this world, even “safe” LGBTQ+ spaces were not always safe for LGBTQ+ Black individuals. Fashion is about expression, freedom, and art. What we wear reflects how we see ourselves and how we see others. Black fashion has been, and often continues to be, scrutinized because of mentalities associated with colonial structures. White people were seen as the norm, the beauty standard, while BIPOC artistic expression was depicted as primitive or less meaningful. However, this is simply not true, and our clothes can enlighten someone about where we are from, to whom we owe allegiance, and what
our history has entailed. Our hairstyles can do the same. Many African women brought over the Atlantic as enslaved people would braid grains of rice into their hair for food. This has massively changed the kinds of rice available in North America. The LGBTQ+ community has borrowed a lot from BIPOC LGBTQ+ culture. Language (notably AAVE), accessories such as acrylic nails, and even mannerisms and dance moves typically associated with Black women have become symbols of the LGBTQ+ community as a whole. This is not inherently a bad thing; rather, it’s an opportunity to pay homage to the pioneers of Black LGBTQ+ fashion. Being androgynous in appearance can be a form of rebellion for Black people, an escape from the constraints of gender to a realm of existence that allows people to simply be. Suppose we explore more contemporary individuals who embody the concepts of gender exploration and androgyny within fashion, such as ASAP Rocky, Jaden Smith, Willow Smith, Billy Porter, and Janelle Monáe, to name a select few. Androgyny is not the only arena where Blackness, fashion, and queerness collide. There is a delightful component to knowing that you can be masculine, feminine, androgynous, or simply yourself through what you wear. These individuals rest on the shoulders of giants. Their ability to dress androgynously, and even to test the boundaries of fashion, was earned through a history of innovation. The fashion industry is the arena in which Black LGBTQ+ creators were—and are— free to exercise artistic liberty, show off their history, and petition for a more inclusive
stage for future generations to do the same. Marsha P. Johnson, Glady Bentley, and Willi Ninja are some of the foundational individuals whose struggles with selfexpression paved the way for us to be able to experience fashion free from constraints and fear, at least for the most part. Marsha P. Johnson (1945–1992), a transgender rights activist and one of the key figures of the 1969 Stonewall riots, was a drag queen and petitioner for civil rights and the rights of HIV-positive individuals. She performed in the United States, and her legacy is a reminder that the LGBTQ+ community stands on the shoulders of Black trans women. Gladys Bentley (1907–1960), a lesbian singer and performer famous for her “crossdressing,” would perform in a top hat and tuxedo during times when it was highly uncommon for women to do so. She was celebrated as a fashion trailblazer in her community. Willi Ninja (1961–2006) was a dancer and choreographer, famous for coining the iconic dance known as voguing. The dance moves, characterized by sharp angular gestures and exaggerated poses, became a staple on runways and catwalks worldwide. All of these have been incorporated both on a global fashion stage and in LGBTQ+ communities as a pop culture phenomenon. We have a long way to go in improving our conceptions of what it means to be LGBTQ+ and Black. One thing is for sure: the LGBTQ+ community has made its mark on fashion, and that is largely thanks to the Black men and women (and everyone in between) who paved the way for us to discover ourselves in a new light.
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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
g Black fashion
o contemporary models Current creatives: Black models LULU KARRA PRESIDENT, BLVCK
Black models have been bringing their Black girl magic to fashion runways. Growing up watching the likes of Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks revolutionizing the runway, and now seeing Iman, Adut Akech, Duckie Thot (and more—the list is endless) opening and closing major shows is cause for appreciation and celebration. Being a sucker for everything fashionrelated myself, it’s thrilling to see platforms filled with more Black models, Black art, Black magic, Black music—all of it. Better still, there is hope that this spring, more and more Black models will be featured—not only on runways but on magazine covers, in cosmetics, and in the fashion industry as a whole.
For the past few decades, the fashion industry has been characterized by a history of race superiority. Many Black models’ stories revealed their feelings of unappreciation, with their work being overlooked and outvoted. Recently, controversy arose surrounding British Vogue’s magazine feature of South Sudanese models. Many in the audience felt that Vogue, in their attempt to showcase these amazing models, made so many alterations that they showcased the version of Black models that they wanted for themselves and their cover, as opposed to showcasing who the models truly are, with their true complexions and authenticity.
Even so, efforts have been made within fashion industries to promote inclusivity, giving Black creatives a chance to redefine fashion, to be authentic, and to make fashion their own. Celebrating Black models’ accomplishments and achievements not only appreciates their talent; it shines a light for other aspiring Black creatives to keep on pushing, to believe in themselves and their abilities, to aim for the headlines, to be icons, to be more and more creative, and to know it is indeed possible to become anything. Today, I recognize and choose to celebrate all the Black beauties out there for being themselves and doing their best, and for making the runways and the fashion industry their own.
10 SCIENCE
EDITOR | JESS NASH SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA
Dismantling racial disparities in healthcare: the Black Scientists’ Task Force on Vaccine Equity ILLUSTRATION | SHELLEY YAO
JASMINE RYU WON KANG ASSOCIATE SCIENCE EDITOR
In the fall of 2020, the Black Scientists’ Task Force on Vaccine Equity was assembled upon recommendation by the City of Toronto to address the stark inequalities in COVID-19 vaccination rates and barriers to vaccine uptake in Black communities. The Task Force, comprising a group of Black physicians, healthcare professionals, writers, and scholars, addresses the concerns underlying vaccine hesitancy in racialized communities and promotes dialogue in culturally sensitive spaces. Importantly, the Task Force aims to share evidence-based information regarding vaccines, the risks of COVID-19 infection, and safe practices with Black and racialized communities. Furthermore, the Task Force highlights the disparities in COVID-19 hospitalization and mortality rates, aiming to improve public awareness of these inequities. By amplifying the voices of Black medical experts, healthcare professionals, and scholars, the Task Force seeks to foster confidence in vaccination in Black communities and implement policy recommendations to improve the health outcomes of Black and racialized individuals during the COVID-19 pandemic. The inequities that the Task Force aims to dismantle within the context of the COVID-19 pandemic are, however, rooted in an extensive history of racism and marginalization of Black communities by the medical institution. These factors have interacted synergistically, contributing to higher degrees of vaccine hesitancy among Black and racially marginalized individuals. During the pandemic, a striking percentage of COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations were from racialized communities, as individuals from these communities were disproportionately residing in high-density, low-income neighborhoods—a grim demonstration of how urban geography intersects with health resource availability to perpetuate inequity. Black healthcare professionals and front-line workers, in particular, had risks of COVID-19 positivity two to five times higher than the general population in Canada, the US, and the UK. As service and transportation sectors comprised higher percentages of
Black individuals than sectors in which working from home was possible, Black individuals had high risks of COVID-19 infection, driven by factors such as limited access to personal protective equipment and the need to take public transit to travel to the workplace. These inequities have challenged the possibility of mass vaccination in the community. Mass vaccination is a crucial public health measure, which can establish herd immunity that significantly reduces the mortality and morbidity of an infectious disease. Racial disparities in vaccine uptake hinder infectious disease control, often with racialized populations bearing a disproportionate share of the health burden. In consideration of these inequities, the Black Scientists’ Task Force on Vaccine Equity implemented numerous measures to support the health and wellbeing of Black communities through engaging webinars, interactive Town Halls, and the publication of a summary report titled, “Toronto’s Black Community Town Halls Unpacked.”
THE BLACK SCIENTISTS' TASK FORCE ON VACCINE EQUITY IMPLEMENTED NUMEROUS MEASURES TO SUPPORT THE HEALTH AND WELL-BEING OF BLACK COMMUNITIES THROUGH ENGAGING WEBINARS, INTERACTIVE TOWN HALLS, AND THE PUBLICATION OF A SUMMARY REPORT.
To support front-line workers in particular, the Task Force is currently developing a resource kit, actively promoting well-being and various self-care activities to reduce social isolation and prevent negative mental health outcomes in racialized individuals. Recognizing that the pandemic has become associated with increased risks of developing depression and anxiety and that the post-pandemic era may be riddled by surges of PTSD, the Task Force “encourage[s] ways to maintain support to empower and encourage[s] communities to protect themselves, take care of loved ones, cope with stressors and stay healthy.” A series of webinars was also hosted by the Task Force on a wide range of topics, including “having difficult conversations about the vaccine with parents and guardians of Black children and youth.” These informational sessions helped further improve the health and well-being of Black communities through education and awareness. Notably, the Task Force also hosted multiple Town Hall discussions, allowing participants to ask questions and bring forth their concerns regarding the safety and efficacy of vaccines. These conversations proved to be productive and profoundly meaningful avenues to address vaccine hesitancy in “culturally and racially safe spaces,” as one participant commented. Indeed, the meaningful impact of the Town Halls was reflected in the reduction of vaccine hesitancy by at least 25 percent in the nearly 7,000 participants who attended the sessions. The impact reached far beyond those who directly attended, as many of these individuals shared their knowledge with their networks and continued these crucial conversations within their communities. Attendees also comprised individuals outside of the city and province, highlighting the relevance and need for culturally informed discussions on this topic in other parts of Canada. To learn more and to stay up-to-date on the Black Scientists' Task Force on Vaccine Equity, please visit TorontoBlackCOVID.com and follow @TorontoTask on Twitter.
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UofT launches Canada’s first Black Research Network Celebrating Black excellence through mentorship, community, and investment MAX LEES EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
In October 2021, the University of Toronto’s Black Research Network (BRN) launched as the first of its kind at UofT. The BRN is an Institutional Strategic Initiative which aims to promote Black excellence and increase the visibility and research capacity of Black scholars by creating a network of research engagement across the three campuses. During its first year, the BRN will focus on data and health sciences, but its support extends to all disciplines. The network has already established workshops, grants, and other initiatives, with more events planned for the coming year. At the launch in October, inaugural director Professor Beth Coleman gave opening remarks, followed by the Steering Committee: Dean Rhonda McEwen, Professor Maydianne Andrade, Professor Alissa Trotz, and Professor Lisa Robinson. They also featured keynote speakers Dr. Ruha Benjamin and Dr. Timnit Gebru, leading academics in Black technoscience. The launch recordings are available on the BRN website. Dr. McEwen spoke on the work that led to the creation of the BRN, beginning in 2016: “Our goal was to stand in support of our students who were on the front lines of the Black Lives Matter Toronto movement.” A group of Black faculty from multiple universities came together to discuss, as Dr. McEwen put it, “what we as Black faculty owed to our students and to ourselves.” This meeting led to several initiatives within the University of Toronto, but the group decided that in addition, “[they] now needed to focus on research collaboration … [they] then approached the Institutional Strategic Initiative folks and had incredible support.” Dr. McEwen added, “I could not be prouder of the work that we have done.” The Strand spoke with Dr. Beth Coleman, BRN inaugural director, UofT Associate Professor, and author of Hello Avatar, a book examining this generation’s cultural shift into the virtual world. She explained that the idea for the network arose
last year from discussions surrounding the UofT AntiBlack Racism Task Force in the midst of the pandemic, protests, police brutality, and adjacent societal issues. Dr. Coleman and her colleagues recognized the need for the network and saw an opportunity within the institution. “We need to both further support Black researchers, BIPOC researchers, and help map out for each other, who's doing this work? … Can we get these people in a room together? ... My job is to help make those conversations happen.” Dr. Andrade offered her perspective on the need for representation in the sciences. “When I was hired in 2000, I had no idea that I would be one of only a handful of Black scientists working in fundamental research at the University, and I had no idea that that statistic would barely shift for 20 years. Nor did I realize that this is true at institutions across Canada. While Black academics are underrepresented among faculty in general, this is even more acute in the sciences.” She went on to explain that “the visibility of Black researchers in itself can reverse deficit narratives,” and “even one role model can change how a young person thinks about what’s possible in the future.” Ultimately, “the Black Research Network will highlight role models that can inspire Black youth and almost as important, normalize Black scientists and researchers for all Canadians.” The BRN has established four strategic pillars: research excellence; mentorship and pathways; community, collaboration, and partnerships; and funding and investment. “Research excellence is in some ways the most obvious one … [but] we need all four of those to support the one that's more public facing,” said Dr. Coleman. Since its launch, the BRN has been working on these goals. In November, they initiated their first small grant: the Ignite Grant, which provides research funding for Black faculty, librarians, and post-doctoral scholars working in any research discipline. The application is currently open, and recipients will be announced in March. The network is also developing the Visiting Fellows Award, creating research profiles, and collaborating with a group working on decolonial
machine learning and addressing implicit bias in AI. For now, focus is mostly on the graduate level and upwards because the network is research-centred, but the team is looking to involve undergraduate students as well, with BRN lead Maria Williams meeting with undergraduates to discuss how they can become involved in the network. Dr. Coleman mentioned that undergraduates often participate in research teams, and are not only mentored but often make important contributions. This month, the BRN hosted a read-a-thon honoring the late Black American poet bell hooks in partnership with the Women and Gender Studies Institute. In February, the Black History Month speakers series will be a highlight, and this summer, there will be a gala, Juneteenth social, and several seminars. “It’s both a research conversation and also about the social life of the University. People have been so enthusiastic about the BRN being a beacon for why it feels so exciting to be here.” Inevitably, the pandemic has posed some challenges for collaboration and social connection. “In September, we had a very joyous Black faculty and research network meet and greet … It is a bit rough that at the end of January we’re still not in a place where we can sit down and have a meal together… but we’ll get there.” Plans for a winter party were derailed by Omicron, but the group is planning an outdoor spring gala instead, when warmer weather will allow for responsible social engagement. Among the many accomplishments the network has had since it launched, Dr. Coleman and her colleagues are celebrating a major grant from the Connaught Fund to “support diverse, interdisciplinary research teams addressing major challenges in the world.” For updates about upcoming workshops, events, grants, and more, anyone can sign up for the BRN mailing list on BRN.UToronto.ca follow their Twitter @UofTBRN.
ILLUSTRATION | SHELLEY YAO
12 ARTS AND CULTURE
EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA
Thank you, bell hooks A reflection on the intellectual giant and the legacy she left behind. PHOTO | JEN WHITE-CAMPBELL
FURQAN MOHAMED CONTRIBUTOR
With her iconic name purposefully spelled in lowercase letters, it is easy to sometimes gloss over bell hooks and her moniker. Nevertheless, the woman, her prose, and her presence in academia are much too great to ignore. Born Gloria Jean Watkins on September 25, 1952, bell hooks was a Black feminist author, professor, poet, and bonafide public intellectual. She chose her name as an homage to her maternal greatgrandmother, Bell Blair Hooks: a fitting choice for a woman who wrote eloquently about identity and what it meant specifically for Black women to live in and survive the intersections of racism, sexism, and classism, and to do so without losing themselves. She wrote prolifically about the connections between race, gender, and class and actually started working on her first full-length book, Ain't I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism at the age of 19. hooks was born and raised in Hopkinsville, a segregated town in Kentucky, USA, by a workingclass family. She was one of six children, born to Rosa and Veodis, a maid and janitor, respectively. hooks named Langston Hughes and Gwendolyn Brooks as her favourite poets to read when she was young. She would grow up to teach and write, studying at Stanford and the University of Wisconsin. Her PhD dissertation in English from the University of California, Santa Cruz, was on the work of another iconic Black woman, Toni Morrison. Apart from Ain't I a Woman, hooks also wrote Feminist Theory: From Margin to Centre (1984) and Teaching to Transgress (1994) and, of course, one of her most iconic books, All About Love (1999). Through her writing, hooks would become known as a prolific cultural critic, taking a sharp knife to the curtain that is drawn over the ways popular culture and media have perpetuated oppression against the
most marginalised, cutting through it for all of us to bear witness. The first and considerably powerful "truth" that hooks's work investigated was the idea of a "universal female experience," applying the matrix of intersectionality of Black feminists before her and taking it one step further to include the ways class and media affect the lives of women. Her analysis was interpreted as radical at the time since the idea that all women share a common background has been understood as the bedrock of mainstream feminism. Still, hooks emphasized the complexity of women's lives and identities and how that further complicated the concept of sisterhood within feminism. In a 2013 essay on Sheryl Sandberg for The Feminist Wire, she clarified her analysis, writing about how the politics of representation has its limits and how "formation of genuine female solidarity" depends on "a solidarity based on awareness of difference as well as the all-too-common gendered experiences women share." Laura Mulvey, a British feminist film theorist, established the theory of the "male gaze" to illustrate how ways of observing and interpreting images, particularly in mainstream film, are produced with a male, heteronormative motivation. bell hooks understood quite profoundly the power of the gaze, of "looking," and more importantly, the effects of the gaze on those being watched—specifically Black people. She introduced the idea of the "oppositional gaze," arguing that "looking" is a political act and that those at the other end of the gaze are not passive but rather capable of challenging their surveillants. Black people, hooks wrote, can use the "oppositional gaze" to critique their oppressors, and all oppressed people can authorise themselves to gaze back at society and rebel against injustice. "By courageously looking, we defiantly declared," she wrote, "Not only will I stare. I want my look to change reality." hooks passed away from kidney failure
on December 15, 2021, at the age of 69. She left behind over 40 books and articles, forever changing academia. At a time when feminist and gender studies only centred on white women and a particular capitalist perspective, she rose above superficial analysis to delineate a feminist practice that is rooted in solidarity between those of all races, gender identities, and socioeconomic positions. Her work deeply impacted women and gender studies, pedagogy, language, and writing. What made hooks so unique is the place her writing came from: love. It is one thing to write about oppression and injustice—to write about racism and misogyny—in a way that is clinical, to diagnose society's ills. It is another thing to write from a place of deep intimacy, favouring more accessible language than academic jargon but never sacrificing clarity or acuity. When assessing structures of power in our society, hooks refused to write from a place of "doom" and instead chose to not only interpret injustices but provide us with the roadmap to destroying them. Scholarly writing can feel so very antiseptic, distant, and even cold, but hooks loved us, devoting her life and academic career to saying so unabashedly. She assembled a scholarly tradition that asks, "who are you writing for?" and "can they hear you?" Poet Danez Smith, scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, author Naomi Jackson, and journalist Kaila Philo each cite hooks as an inspiration for their work. As Ivie Ani, editor-in-chief and director of Amaka Studio told The Cut, "She made theory accessible, concise, and digestible to everybody — and did so with a sense of urgency. She gave out what she knew, when she knew it, so that we could, too. She was a light." In Teaching to Transgress, she writes, quoting the great American feminist poet, Adrienne Rich, "No wonder, then, that we continue to think, ‘This is the oppressor's language yet I need to talk to you.’" She spoke to Black women, people, all of us, reminding us that within each of us lies the power to assess the world around us and disobey its violent and oppressive limits and expectations. bell hooks preferred to spell her name in all lowercase letters to encourage us to focus attention on her message rather than herself, and it is safe to say we heard her, loud and clear. ILLUSTRATION | SEAVEY VAN WALSUM
ARTS AND CULTURE 13
@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
Celebrating Black authors Brought to you by BLVCK MAKGOFE M. MATHIPA CONTRIBUTOR
1. Speak No Evil by Uzodinma Iweala
6. Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
A Piece of Vic: What then? What now? A message from the Events Director of BLVCK LASHAE L. WATSON EVENTS DIRECTOR, BLVCK
2. Born a Crime by Trevor Noah
3. From Scratch by Tembi Locke
4. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
7. Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson
8. The Last Sentence by Tumelo Buthelezi
9. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
In 2018, during my first month of university, I learned of Amara Philip’s idea to create a Black Student Network. It immediately brought me joy to know that a fellow schoolmate was interested in creating a space at Victoria College where Black students not only felt seen but heard and celebrated. I quickly made known my interest in helping form this network and before we knew it, BLVCK, Victoria College’s first Black Student Network, was established. In our first executive meeting, we determined which positions we were interested in, and I chose to be the Events Director, along with a fellow executive member. Initially, it felt natural given my love for bringing people together, but I quickly became nervous at the thought of having to create and manage an event, not knowing whether people would attend. Luckily, my fellow members reassured me that we were a team and would figure it out together, and that is what we did. To our surprise, our first mixer had a huge turnout. From there, our club—and now, levy—took off. We formed bonds by creating meaningful relationships that continue to be of immense significance. In short, the community we created through Vic Black continues to be in every way one of my greatest sources of support. In 2020, the Vic Black team wrote an open letter regarding the death of George Floyd, but more broadly the magnitude of anti-Black racism, our commitment to make a change, and some of the needs of Black students stemming from our own experiences and as echoed by our fellow Black peers. Since then, we have worked with the administration in bringing some of these needs into fruition which has resulted in the establishment of a BIPOC bursary and a BIPOC counsellor specifically for BIPOC students. Additionally, a former member and I sat on a student panel in Victoria College's “Racism and Anti-Racism in Higher Ed” conference. Today, I continue to look towards ways that BLVCK can continue to foster community and create both opportunities and safe spaces for our fellow Black schoolmates; and more broadly, how we can work with the administration and student groups alike to cocreate a space rooted in equity, diversity, and inclusion. It is my hope that through our efforts more students will see themselves reflected in the image of Victoria College and, more widely, the University of Toronto. VISUAL | BLVCK LOGO
5. Small Country by Gaël Faye
10. Becoming by Michelle Obama
14 ARTS AND CULTURE
EDITOR | JANNA ABBAS ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA
Artists rewrite history What Spike Lee gets right and wrong in his show, She's Gotta Have It KALLIOPÉ ANVAR MCCALL DISTRIBUTION MANAGER
Although he may be a legendary director and screenwriter, when it comes to portraying the lives of queer, polyamorous women in film, Spike Lee has no clue what he is doing. All evidence for this lies in She's Gotta Have It, a television show written and directed by Lee, released in 2017—a remake of his (frankly terrible) directorial debut from 1983. If the misogyny, homophobia, and slut-shaming was atrocious in the original movie, it is only marginally better in the TV show remake. The show follows the life of Nola Darling, a fictional 20-something-year-old Black, queer, polyamorous woman painter and multi-disciplinary artist navigating an increasingly gentrified Brooklyn. It only takes a few minutes of the first episode to realise that she is the embodied mouthpiece of Lee's wildest fantasies. It appears sadistic to put myself through two seasons of a heterosexist show—and yet I did. Lee does something, perhaps best exemplified in episode four of season two, that made me keep watching. In the episode, called “#NationTime,” Nola is invited to Martha's Vineyard—a real place on an island off Cape Cod—for an all-Black artist residency. During the retreat, the character Nola Darling meets incredibly talented, real-life Black visual artists such as Carrie Mae Weems, Amy Sherald, LaToya Ruby Frazier, and others. Playing themselves, the artists engage in fascinating conversations with fictional characters such as Nola about the power and importance of Black art under a Trump presidency. Episode four of season two, really, is more documentary than fiction. For example, Amy Sherald—the world-renowned painter who made Michelle Obama's official White House portrait—gets a whole scene to herself where she talks about what the Obama project meant to her and the Black artist community in the United States. The show also hints to the history of Martha's Vineyard, which was a refuge for Black indentured labourers and previously enslaved individuals trying to start a free life. It has
now become a popular vacation destination for wealthy Black tourists, and a hub for Black arts and culture. But perhaps my favourite self-referential moment that fuses reality and fiction occurs when Nola meets Tatyana Fazlalizadeh, the real-life artist and activist whose work Nola's "fake" art, which appears multiple times throughout the show, is based on. I love the way Lee weaves and blurs reality and fiction throughout the story. Spike Lee builds an episode—and a whole show, really—that merges reality and fiction to create a story that celebrates Black American excellence in visual art and educates audiences about the essential contribution Black artists around the world are bringing to the art world. This is not new for the director. Spike Lee has captivated audiences for over thirty years—from 1989's Do The Right Thing to 2018's BlacKkKlansman—by making movies that rewrite racism in Black history. From historical issues such as gentrification, to the Vietnam War, and civil rights, Black Americans have been, and continue to be, chronically misrepresented. Lee writes over these white supremacist historical narratives by weaving the fictional with the fantastical, the personal with the political, to create stories of Black excellence that are both history lesson and film. Although it does beg the question: is Spike Lee really re-shaping the historical narrative of Black people in film if he is fetishizing Black queer and polyamorous women? No, and that is why, ultimately, I don't recommend the show. Black women, Black queer and trans folks, and non-monogamous Black individuals need to be part of the historical re-writing. Although Spike Lee was one of the pioneers of Black historical fiction in film, he by no means perfected the genre. There are lessons to be drawn from him, no doubt, but a lot to be improved on. That is why I prefer to recommend other works—like Rebecca Hall’s movie Passing (2021)—that mix history and fiction while simultaneously staying true to Black queer and polyamorous women.
Meet the Artists Meet some of the incredible artists featured in the episode! 1. Tatyana Fazlalizadeh is a Brooklyn-based street artist and activist. She created the Stop Telling Women to Smile project, which evolved from a wheat paste art collection to a well-known campaign against street harassment. 2. Carrie Mae Weems is a world-renowned photographer and multi-disciplinary artist from Oregon, now working in Brooklyn. The techniques she uses to take her photos, like in The Kitchen Table Series, have rewritten the rules of modern photography. 3. Tschabalala Self is a painter, collage artist, and sculptor based in Connecticut. She explores themes such as sexualization and body image through depictions of the Black female body. 4. Doreen Garner is a sculptor (and tattoo artist!) living in Brooklyn. She creates life-like "corporeal sculptures" that highlight the trauma Black people experience due to the history of medical racism in the United States. 5. LaToya Ruby Frazier is a photographer best known for her Flint is Family series that sheds light on the water contamination issues Black families are facing in Flint, Michigan. Her work is her tool for community advocacy. 6. Titus Kaphar is a painter from Michigan. Trained as a classic portrait artist, he subverts artistic norms by tearing and defacing his paintings to turn them into sculptures-like artifacts. 7. Juliana Huxtable is a queer visual artist, writer, and DJ currently living in Berlin. Her art takes various forms but always centreshas for subject Black queer youth, social media, and nightlife subcultures. 8. Amy Sherald is a portrait painter from Georgia. She is best known for her distinctive painting style, which mixes simplified realism with grayed skin tones, and her portrait of Michelle Obama.
VISUAL | KALLIOPÉ ANVAR MCCALL
POETRY 15
@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 1 FEBRUARY 2022
“My Mama Said,” so “Sorry in Advance” Poetry for the woman who taught me to be bright IMANI KING CONTRIBUTOR
These poems (originally written as spoken word pieces) are dedicated to my mother, who taught me that I’m a beautiful Black woman and that all I ever had to be was myself. Shining bright was never an option; it was the standard. “Sorry in Advance” is a testament to my growth as a poet and my mom’s connection to that. “My Mama Said” acts as a follow-up, as it is reminiscent of our constant reflections when we talk. Fun fact: she does not know these pieces exist—at least until she reads them here for the first time. Mama, stop bawling. My identity—an intersectional identity at that—has always been uplifted by my mother. It is my turn to pay her back. Mama! Good gyal come out (a Jamaican way of saying “periodt”)!!! Sorry in Advance Three years ago My mom asked me to write happy I apologized in advance Happy was already the default, mama I had to show that I too, could be angsty Still a newborn poet, verifying my words And lack of punctuation, filing through my metaphors Dotting my I’s Showing that I was worth finally being listened to Until angst and insecurity showed up at my doorstep I was determined to write those feelings Even the ones I had to conjure up at night so I could Write my newfound sorrows and continue My new way of not being silenced By someone asking me to get to the point And shorten the story And slow down because it was “too chaotic” And I finally got to be the one to run the show Setting the stage, picking up the mic, Determining the righty tighty lefty loosey I was not going to write happy, that was expected of me The oversharer, smiley, excitable person
I had to change that idea of me Quickly I had to change people’s idea of my writing so that Something was coherent My speech wasn’t I’d lose people quicker than a rerouting GPS I rerouted to tangents Throwing the person off the cliff of a conversation Watching up above wondering how they got down below When this initially started out with my mom Asking for joy in my writing I get joy from my writing Are those the same? So I kept going, not knowing when to stop the play The playing around with connecting to people who didn’t want to And trying to draw out the portraits of people who hid from me All to say that I was played with I went looking for trouble because I wasn’t raised by it Mom, you did such a good job bringing joy I had to find despair to compare it to And I had paired it desperately to the view of poetry Singing out the sorrows I was living through just for the hell of it Experience is experience, but compensation is key So as a growing poet, I try to write to the best of me Am I growing in the way that I should be? So that when angst and despair are sent to my doorstep, I can write ‘return to sender’? I can write for myself although my past pieces are pieces of me I can write for myself. So mama, When you hear this one, Hopefully, After 7 years, What you have said, I have done.
My Mama Said My mama said “don’t dim your light for anyone” I took that order to go From the blinding cheek highlight To the twinkle in my eye while explaining a story To the lighting overhead on stage in front of the mic I was gonna listen to my mama My mama said “you’re a beautiful Black girl” That one had to simmer Until I realized how I shone in the sun and glimmered at night When I realized my light skin melanin, Passed down out of love and planning and unintentional tanning, Had a certain shine Where if you caught the angle correctly You saw each pore decorated ever so slightly As if bedazzled My mama said “keep smiling big” I can do that, just big and bright as always From no teeth to teething to cheesing To hollering to giggling Imani was going to smile Veronica worked too hard to keep it My mama said “your hair is so beautiful” You got that right, girl Funnily enough, you did it Made me rock my curls and all the length that followed Always ready to part, deep condition, moisturize My mama She knows me like the back of her hand She knows me like the scar from her C-section, my C-section She knows me. So she knows she must remind me Otherwise I will forget.
ILLUSTRATION | NATALIE SONG