The Strand | Volume 62, Issue 4

the

STRAND VICTORIA UNIVERSITY’S STUDENT NEWSPAPER VOLUME 62, ISSUE 4 | 22 OCTOBER 2019

The Strand reviews JFL

Mass transit and the climate

This is a crisis

arts and culture | page 12

science | page 10

editorial | page 4

02 NEWS

EDITOR | ANN MARIE ELPA NEWS@THESTRAND.CA

Cannabis legalization one year later How has cannabis legalization changed since 2018? ann marie elpa news editor

It is hard to believe that nearly a year ago, on October 17, 2018, the federal Cannabis Act came into effect, legalizing the recreational use, personal production of up to four plants, and possession of up to 30 grams of cannabis for Canadians 19 or older. The sale of cannabis has been largely affected as a result, with private retailers starting to obtain licenses after a monopoly of online sales.

As of October 17 of this year, the sale and use of edibles, including baked goods and drinks, will be legalized. Canada is the second country to decriminalize marijuana use, possession, and growth after Uruguay. Still, consumers are adjusting to a plethora of new rules and policies regarding use, opening avenues for distracted driving and substance abuse.

What can we observe from campus cannabis policies one year into legalization?

Implementing campus-wide smoking policies The university implemented a campus-wide smoking ban on January 1, including tobacco, marijuana, and vaping. Campus police have been enforcing the ban, placing legible signs in front of university buildings. However, individually enforcing and dealing with infractions has proven difficult.

“Our existing smoking policy is decades old, and recent changes by the provincial government that allow smoking of cannabis in public spaces may increase the risk of exposure to second-hand smoke,” says Kelly-Hannah Moffat, UofT Vice President of Human Resources and Equity. “We feel this change is consistent with our goal to have a healthy campus environment.”

The University has been treating marijuana enforcement to the same degree as tobacco.

Students are prohibited from using marijuana in residences and from receiving online orders.

Students also need to be wary of possessing cannabis-related paraphernalia such as bongs, rolling papers, and pipes. Medical use on campus, however, is legal.

Some Ontario universities like UofT have revised smoking policies to include the use of cannabis while others have created separate policies altogether to handle cannabis use.

Ryerson, York, Brock and UOttawa have implemented similar policies regarding cannabis use and possession on campus, barring students from smoking in common university spaces and in residences. The sale and growth of marijuana also remains illegal on these campuses.

It is expected that universities will revise policies to include the use of edibles in residences and in public spaces.

MPP Chris Glover calls on Premier Doug Ford to reverse OSAP cuts khatchig anteblian contributor

NDP Colleges and Universities critic Chris Glover––joined by three students from different disciplines––spoke at a press conference in the Ontario Legislature building on Queen’s Park addressing the Ford government’s cuts to OSAP. Earlier this year, the conservative government announced a $700 million cut in funding for OSAP. They also eliminated the six-month, interest-free grace period, and introduced the Student Choice Initiative. “We’re hearing from students who are going from studying full-time to studying part-time; we’re hearing from students who are having to drop out because of the costs and the cuts to financial support; and we’re also hearing about students who are working full-time while going to school fulltime, and that’s having an impact on their ability to study,” Glover said.

Hanna Perka, a student at George Brown College studying American Sign Language English & Interpretation, expressed her concern of possibly having to drop out of college by saying, “Last year I received $13,000 of OSAP funding but this year I only got around $8000, nearly 40 percent less than what I expected. My OSAP this year doesn’t even cover my full tuition, and on top of that, I still need to pay for textbooks, online programs, food, transit, and Toronto rent.”

Mohamad Abdulhadi, a fourth-year accounting student at Conestoga College, talked about how he had to max out his credit cards to pay his tuition after receiving $4000 less funding than he expected. “I was told that I need to pay the full tuition in order to receive my schedule and to be officially enrolled in my classes, and because I was in a rush and I was stressed, I used both my credit cards, just so I can pay the difference that OSAP wasn’t able to pay,” he said. As an accounting student, Mohamad understands the danger of accumulating credit card debt, yet his hands were tied. “This is not how I

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hoped my last year of college would be. I wanted to focus on my future, prepping myself for the CPA, and building a career. But now my only focus is just to try to not drop out.”

Humera Dasu, a business student at York University, outlined how the tuition cuts are harmful to students instead of being helpful as the government promised: “For myself in particular, I saw a huge increase in loans and a huge decrease in grants, even those two combined didn’t cover the cost of my tuition. Last year my tuition was maybe $1500 higher but the OSAP I received covered my tuition and left money for textbooks and commuting, because

| khatchig anteblian

of which I was much more well off than I am this year.”

When asked how students could get involved and make their demands heard, Chris Glover said, “Any action that students take has an impact.

There’s two sources of power in a democracy, there’s money and votes. The students don’t have a lot of money but you have a lot of votes [...]. We live in a democracy, you have the power to reverse these decisions, but you need to organize and you need to apply pressure.”

NEWS 03

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

VUSAC reports an overall Student Choice Initative optout average of 23.7 percent “Arts Programming and Initiatives” hit most ann marie elpa news editor

A document released

by VUSAC (Victoria University Students’ Administrative Council) at their October 4th meeting reported an overall incidental fee opt-out average of 23.7 percent. These numbers come as a response to the September 19th opt-out deadline imposed by the provincial government’s Student Choice Initiative (SCI).

The SCI proposed on January 1st prompted criticism and worry from student governments across Ontario’s colleges and universities. The

UTSU (University of Toronto Students Union) spearheaded a campaign called ‘CHOOSEUOFT’ in response to the impending cuts from the SCI to encourage UofT students to opt-in and utilize their services.

Over 3,200 responses from full-time students and 160 from part-time students were accounted for in the reported average. Of the overall average percentage 22.17 percent of full-time students opted out of incidental fees compared to 25.47 percent of parttime students. VUSAC saw an average 22.7 percent opt-out rate,

with “Arts Programming and Initiatives” receiving the highest opt-out number at 717 students.

Vic levies suffered the most with an average overall opt-out rate of 24.7 percent. Victoria College’s Drama Society and VCAA banquet were the most hit with an optout rate of 26 percent: 25.1 percent from fulltime students and 27.6 percent from part-time students.

Students will need to select incidental fees again in the upcoming winter semester.

What’s going on around campus this month?

In Conversation on Student Mental Health Tuesday, October 22, 6:30-8:30pm Hart House Debate Room The Hart House Debates and Dialogues Committee and the Hart House Social Justice Committee are cohosting this event to allow students, faculty, and administration across all three UofT campuses to have open conversations about mental health. All students and faculty members are invited to share their experiences and concerns with regards to the University’s mental health crisis, or just to show solidarity by coming and listening. A decompression room in collaboration with Healing Hearts Through Art will be available for the duration of the event if anyone would like to take a break from the panel event.

The event will be moderated by Garvia Bailey, Journalist, Writer and Producer for Pop Sandbox.

Please register for the event through the Facebook event page.

Haunted Campus Ghost Tours Friday, October 25 and 28, 6:30-7:45pm Convocation Hall What better way to get ready for Halloween than by listening to ghost stories? The University of Toronto History Society is hosting its fourth annual student-led Haunted Campus Tour. It will be filled with fascinating historical stories tied to spots all around the school.

This event is also open to individuals who aren’t part of the UofT community, so feel free to invite your friends and family!

Note: The Trinity College section of the tour is not wheelchair accessible.

Acta Victoriana Submissions Saturday, October 26 actavictoriana.ca/submit Do you want to be published in the same literary journal as Margaret Atwood and E.J. Pratt once were?

Acta Victoriana, Victoria College’s literary journal, is looking for prose, poetry, and visual art to be featured in their next issue! Submissions close at 11:59pm on Saturday, so be sure to send in your work before then. Additional information is available on Acta’s website.

Scary Skate Thursday, October 31, 7:00-8:30pm Varsity Arena

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| ilya sarossy

UofT Sport & Recreation and Move U of T are hosting a Halloween skating event! Skaters of all levels are welcome, and instructors will be on the ice to help beginners. UofT students who present their T-Card enter for free, but individuals who aren’t affiliated with the University can participate for $5. Skate rentals, crafts, and hot chocolate are available for free (while supplies last). And because this event is happening on Halloween, skaters are encouraged to dress up in costumes!

04 EDITORIAL

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | REBECCA GAO EDITOR@THESTRAND.CA

This is a crisis

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strand V O L U M E

Content warning: Mentions of suicide

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editor-in-chief

editor@thestrand.ca

rebecca gao

managing editor

business@thestrand.ca

leo morgenstern

business manager

business@thestrand.ca

mishail adeel

news

news@thestrand.ca

ann marie elpa

opinions

opinions@thestrand.ca

meg jianing zhang

features

features@thestrand.ca

hadiyyah kuma

science

science@thestrand.ca

michal leckie

arts and culture

artsandculture@thestrand.ca abbie moser stranded

stranded@thestrand.ca

max nisbeth

copyediting

copy@thestrand.ca

sandy forsyth

design

design@thestrand.ca

keith cheng

photo

photo@thestrand.ca

ilya sarossy

art

art@thestrand.ca

amy jiao

web

web@thestrand.ca

eric mcgarry

podcast

noah kelly jasmine ng

strandcast@thestrand.ca

editorial assistants

khadija alam gillian chapman jess nash emma paidra eden prosser faith wershba contributors

khatchig anteblian , miranda carroll , skylar

cheung , tian ren chu , marjan dian , jennifer duf ton , arielle earn , ellen grace , emma mackenzie , victoria mcintyre , veronika zabelle nayir , t . w .

penryn , beck siegal copy editors julianna he design team

keith cheng, rebecca gao illustrations amy jiao, mia carnevale, nick schloessin photos ilya sarossy, emma mackenzie cover art emily fu

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

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

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

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

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On Friday, September 27, news broke that another student had died by suicide in the Bahen Centre for Information Technology. It was the third death in Bahen in less than two years. Immediately, calls from students, faculty, and the UofT community at large for administration to do something—anything—circulated throughout campus.

The administration has, thus far, not implemented any substantial changes. Besides installing safety measures at Bahen—a reactive move that happened after the fact—UofT’s administrative bodies have not committed to changing any of their policies, most notably the problematic mandated leave of absence policy.

But where admin is not acting, students are. Just hours after reports confirming the death in Bahen, students organized emergency meetings to discuss strategy and to support one another. Grassroots student-fronted mental health advocacy groups such as How Many Lives?, which has been active since last year, sprung up again to spread awareness and advocate for action. Multiple protests, such as the rally outside of Simcoe Hall on October 7, have made the discussion surrounding mental health action unavoidable for administrators and the Governing Council.

Below, members of The Strand’s masthead discuss mental health and their experiences with UofT’s mental health infrastructure.

——————————————— There’s a nebulous boundary between what is “acceptable” mental-health talk versus “that shit’s too deep”. Often, “mental health” is used as a buzzword—an enviable luxury associated with face masks and hot tea. In reality, mental health is a heavy topic, and, when discussed candidly, can bring up feelings of discomfort.

Mental health is complex and, much of the time, frightening. In my own struggles with mental health, I became unable to trust my own brain. My “true self ” was a soft echo of a voice that had become dominated by a constant blare of self-reproach, a voice that was both unfamiliar and yet unmistakably mine.

It can feel impossible to combat this deafening narrative which insists “you’re just weak—you don’t need help”. Mental illness feeds upon feelings of worthlessness, thereby extinguishing self-affirming actions like calling a hotline or booking an appointment with a therapist. If these self-initiated resources are our primary defense against the mental health crisis, how can we even begin to solve the problem? This issue is not an equation which can be solved by more hotlines and more therapists. These resources could certainly help, but they’re only one part of the solution.

For me, the most potent affirmations of worth came not from a clinician in a sterile office building, but from the people in my life who gave me a feeling that I was accepted, supported, and valued in the world. While my personal experience does not make me qualified to draw conclusions on the issue, and everyone’s path is different, I can say that it never hurts to lend an ear or provide a supportive space for the people in your life. We must work towards creating a culture which is inclusive, affirming, and accepting—and we must demand that the University does the same.

— Faith Wershba, Editorial Assistant I couldn’t get accessibility accommodations in my first year. I felt overwhelmed by the lengthy process and the documentation required. I had just moved to Ontario and barely knew how to find a doctor. The doctor I did find told me that if I had gotten into UofT, I must be smart enough not to have a mental illness. When I brought the forms to the accessibility office, I was told I had filled them out wrong and today was the deadline, so I’d have to wait until next year to receive any accommodations. I wrote my exams in the big room with everyone else, barely able to focus on the task at hand. I left feeling defeated The message I got was that if I wanted to succeed in post-secondary, I had to be able to do things the way everyone else did and I shouldn’t bother asking for special treatment.

The year after, I finally registered with accessibility services, but that didn’t stop me from feeling isolated.

I’ve had countless professors refuse my accommodations because it didn’t fit into their schedules or teaching methods, or that it wasn’t fair to the other students

in the class. I’ve had profs constantly berate technology use only to off-handedly mention that this doesn’t apply if you have “special permission”. I understand where they’re coming from, sure, but when comments like this are made, it becomes obvious to everyone else in the room who is receiving this “special treatment”.

Thankfully, I am in a place now where I understand that the people who treat us this way are wrong, and that we should not feel isolated. But not everyone is as privileged. Sometimes, I wonder if the institution knows how much shame is involved in living life as a mentally ill person, and how they’re contributing to it. Shame is such an unbearable emotion.

— Ellen Grace, Associate Stranded Editor At each of the five schools I have attended, I have witnessed and faced isolation through various microaggressions. UofT’s inequities have a lot to do with its prominent mental health crisis. Its neoliberalism not only creates divides between students, but places blame on individuals for not succeeding academically and socially at school, disproportionately targeting poor and marginalized students the most.

Much of the language around solving the mental health crisis promotes fostering human connection by forming groups, asking about people’s majors, and other forms of small talk. However, there is an even deeper challenge and risk around breaking neoliberal constructs for marginalized students. “Small talk” is often not welcomed, or made difficult by language, culture, and other barriers. These barriers signify an elitist social capital that perpetuates a racial hierarchy with white people capitalizing on “insider” knowledge and an abundance of networks. Meanwhile, anti-Black racism and Islamophobia remain concerns for UofT and other universities. To address mental health and racism as siloed issues is to erase a population whose mental wellness is deeply affected by this violence. Students of colour are less likely to receive mental health help than white students. We need support from counsellors and faculty members who understand racial nuances.

I study sociology, and I’ve read legitimately zero content by theorists of colour. I have only had the pleasure of having one professor of colour (hers were the only office hours I visited). Frankly, the whiteness of UofT is isolating. That’s why it’s necessary to stick close to my community of POC. It gives me a sense that I am not alone, and that I don’t have to try to inject myself in places where I might not feel welcomed or safe just for the sake of gaining access to the capital that an oppressive institution says I should possess.

—Hadiyyah Kuma, Features Editor This year I decided that I wanted to talk to a doctor about possibly taking medication for my anxiety and depression, which I have struggled with for many years.

Being an international student on UHIP, I had no choice but to go through Health and Wellness. After contacting the office and waiting a solid 20 minutes to talk to someone, I was asked if I had a family doctor, which, being an international student, I did not. “Luckily” for me, I had seen an on-campus counsellor in the past, so they scheduled me an appointment with them for the following week. This meeting was what they considered an intake assessment to provide me a referral to a family doctor and to “speed up” the process.

After completing the assessment, I waited another week to hear from Health and Wellness about seeing a family doctor. Upon talking with them, it was revealed that the family doctors I needed referral to were none other than the same doctors you can see for a walk-in or appointment for a physical health issue at the Health and Wellness office! Then, they informed me that the next available appointment was three and a half weeks away for a mental health meeting. However, if you have a physical illness, you can get an appointment within a week max, or you can drop in. They claim the difference is that they schedule you a half hour for a mental health appointment as compared to the 15 minutes they schedule for a physical health one. I asked if they could refer me off-campus. They provided me a generic website for finding doctors, and I decided to accept this distant appointment instead.

I first contacted Health and Wellness on September 12 to ask for help, my appointment is on October 15.

That is too long for someone in need.

—Eric McGarry, Web Editor

OPINIONS 05

EDITOR | MEG JIANING ZHANG OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Portrait of a decade A commentary on cultural memory

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veronika zabelle nayir staff writer

I am a nostalgic person. I don’t know what for, but I understand that when I am presented with something, I draw on my past. I know that I remember things not as they were, but as I wish they had been. This is what I understand nostalgia to be. I pick and pull and stitch together images and memories to create a new landscape of my own. And it seems as though we are all nostalgic for something, or some place in time.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Woodstock Music Festival. I bought a Woodstock t-shirt—a replica of an original— because, it turns out, I am a borrower of nostalgia. I stitch together stolen images and then proceed to call them mine. This is my t-shirt, but it doesn’t really belong to me; it is a memory I have only worn.

When I think of the seventies, I think of leather, suede, fringes, beadwork, oranges and greens, and yellows and browns.

It seems as though this is all that nostalgia is. It is nothing more than borrowed memory, clouded by pieces and fragments of t-shirts and colours and noise.

I asked my sister about the decade, wondering if it lived in her imagination as it did it mine. “The seventies,” she said, “were a cesspool”.

Only in the periphery of my seventies landscape could I find the chaos she’s referring to. I had pieced together these fragmented images, but maybe my nostalgia wasn’t really nostalgia at all— maybe it was a kind of revisionist history.

In truth, the seventies were a decade wherein psychedelics and presidents and peace intermingled. It is a time when the Manson family ran loose, tainting the golden age with gore. “A cesspool.”

In spite of this description, my sister added and instructed me to note, she “loves it”.

Do we forget about the violence? Or does it

add to the appeal?

Maybe this, too, is a revisionist history, but it is clear that a dichotomy exists in cultural memory. The Manson Family members are either hippies or murderers, and we take our pick as to which narrative we like better.

Even still, half of this narrative is good.

Somehow, the violence weaves itself into the story of music and t-shirts and colours, painting a picture of great irony.

Jim Morrison, lead singer of The Doors, once said: “I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity that seems to have no meaning.”

This is why madness is so beguiling: we believe that what is damaged is worth doing a double-take on, because that which is damaged ought to mean something more. If the 1970s were a character trope, they’d be the Con Man—confusing, but compelling. Con men beg for our attention—they scream out for it— but in a cheery tune. It is only by listening—

| Ilya sarossy

by looking further—that a mythology can be formed. It is only by looking further that we are tricked into rewriting history. It is only by looking further that we skew and sensationalize and prod and pull. We “love” these mythologies because we have created them.

So, we don’t forget about the violence, but we don’t believe that it is senseless. And if we do, we think, at the very least, that it’s poetic.

Because everything is poetic in the 70s.

What it is about the past that continues to draw us back is undefinable. Decades pass and become caricatures; things exist outside of the truth. The enduring appeal of the seventies, to me, lies within this contradiction—the contradiction of the hippies and peace and chaos and disorder. And we love the chaos more than we do the peace, because it makes the past alive—sets it ablaze—more than t-shirts can.

There is something to be said about the allure that chaos has. It is a dangerous siren song—but in the voice of Jim Morrison. illustration

| nick schloessin

06 OPINIONS

EDITOR | MEG JIANING ZHANG OPINIONS@THESTRAND.CA

Going the distance Maintaining a long-distance relationship in university emma mackenzie contributor

Endless long-distance calls, unusually consistent use of the Facetime app, that rush of excitement when you hear your phone ding.

If any of those things sound familiar to you, chances are you’re in or have been in a longdistance relationship. Long-distance is generally not something desired in a relationship.

After all, when you’re in love, all you want to do is spend every second at your disposal together. But what happens when distance is no longer a choice, and the unpredictable forces of life put you on different paths, or more specifically, two different programs in two different cities?

Despite the more personal issues that present themselves in a long-distance relationship, I have found that the time we spend apart has actually been beneficial in the context of school. I find that I can get easily distracted and fall off-track when I’m with my boyfriend, so having Mondays to Fridays to myself allows me to dedicate those days of the week to school work and assignments, so that I can have more personal time to myself on weekends and spend time with him. Also, commuting isn’t as bad as some people may claim—the GO Train is efficient and fairly cheap for students and travelling gives you plenty of quiet time to read or work on any assignments. On a more personal note, spending time apart builds up anticipation, so when you finally see each other it’s more special and exciting, and this actually helps keep your love life livelier and more voluptuous. From my experience, distance truly has a tendency to make the heart grow fonder, not to wander!

There are many people who would claim that maintaining a long-distance relationship as a university student is impossible, considering all of the work assigned in school and time needed to study. Supposedly, both take up so much time and effort that you can’t healthThe key, I have learned, is that it takes dedily pursue them simultaneously. So, does this ication and commitment on both ends to make mean that it really is a bad idea to enter into this kind of relationship work. As long as both a relationship that you know will involve distance during your time as a student? Is it worth the struggles that come alongside it?

parties understand the position they will be in and agree to work equally hard, long-distance can be simple and absolute. Unfortunately, depending on your program and geographical situation, long-distance isn’t always the best solution. Sometimes you have to decide what is more important for you at this point in your life, and there is no shame in doing what is right for you, even if it may be a hard decision to make.

Like any relationship, long-distance takes hard work, dedication, and the acceptance that you will come across many hardships along the way. But you certainly don’t have to sacrifice love to do well in university, or vice versa. You simply have to remember to stay positive and keep a clear mind. So long as you both continue going the distance for each other, you will discover a sense of balance between your personal life and your academic pursuits.

Every relationship in the world has ups and downs, just as it would be for a couple living in close proximity to each other; couples living far away also have pros and cons in their partnership. Growing up, I have been exposed to long-distance relationships from an early age, so I have been able to observe the byproduct of couples being separated for long periods of time from an up-close and personal perspective. I have since come to realize, that longdistance is certainly not for everyone.

For some, being in a relationship means always being close to that person, and the thought of being separated from their lover is all but unbearable. Distance can be dangerous for some, causing people to become paranoid which results in loss of trust and communication, ultimately resulting in a seriously unhealthy situation. Throw three midterms, two essays, and a presentation into the mix, and you could say that you’ve become part of the ultimate love-triangle. So how do you choose between spending time with the potential love of your life and acing that term paper?

This kind of situation can cause all kinds of mental health complications and unneeded stress, which is why it is so important to sit down and discuss your circumstances with your partner; to make sure that you are both willing to work through the challenges that come up; and, above all, to make sure that it is a healthy decision for your relationship and your school situation.

As a second-year student who is currently in a long-distance relationship, I am here to tell you that although it seems like the worst thing in the world, if you do it right, it can be an overall positive experience. Not to say that it isn’t tedious being away from my partner for so long. Believe me, there is no part of me that enjoys being apart from him. Our circumstances made it impossible not to include distance in our relationship, as we are attending universities hours away from each other. We have hit some obstacles along the way, but we’ve always done everything we could to make it work and have now been living apart for two years.

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| emma mackenzie

OPINIONS 07

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

Toronto's gun problem Why handgun bans and increased police presence are not the answer

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jess nash editorial assistant

Content warning: Gun violence On the weekend of August 3rd to 5th, 2019, Toronto was shocked by 14 separate shootings, injuring 17 people. Five of the victims were shot at a North York nightclub, and another shooting in a Bridle Path Airbnb left a man with significant injuries.

The severity of the incident lent a new spark to discussions about guns in Toronto, but it was far from the first instance of gun violence in the city this past summer. Two shootings in June, one on a TTC bus in Etobicoke and another downtown, left three victims injured; July saw six more shootings in North York, Scarborough, and Kensington Market. Many of these incidents have been tied to targeted gang violence.

It’s becoming increasingly obvious that Toronto’s gun problem isn’t going away anytime soon. Victims have been traumatized, families have lost loved ones, and at-risk communities have grown more insecure.

Toronto hasn’t seen this kind of gun violence since 2014, and if trends continue, this year or the next might break 2005’s record of 52 gun homicides.

As the issue continues to grow, Torontonians continue to ask: why?

Changes in gangs’ gun-carrying habits and an increase in gun circulation have both been cited by Toronto Police Services (TPS) as possible reasons underlying the recent uptick in shootings—but the roots of Toronto’s gun problem really go far deeper.

The heart of the issue lies in outdated policy and socioeconomic barriers affecting the city’s marginalized communities. Shooters are commonly from the lowincome neighbourhoods of Toronto—communities that face chronic poverty, violence, and social isolation.

| wikipedia commons

Under former Toronto Chief of Police Bill Blair, carding (the practice of stopping, questioning, and documenting individuals on the street when they are not being actively investigated) and police harassment plagued these neighbourhoods, and former Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s government pulled back on policies that allowed young gun offenders to seek rehabilitation and reintegration into society. There should be no doubt that these regressive actions have played a direct role in fostering further isolation and violence in already disadvantaged areas.

do less than nothing to improve the situation, and will only widen the tensions between law enforcement and marginalized communities.

In other words, our government screwed up. And the question naturally follows: how can they fix it?

Providing financial and mentorship support to youth in low-income communities, helping high school students through planning for post-secondary opportunities, and working to remove pervasive social and economic barriers to employment and education are the approaches that our lawmakers and authority figures need to take a closer look at before wringing their hands about gangs and throwing more police officers at the problem.

Mayor John Tory first addressed this question over a year ago following July 2018’s tragic Danforth shooting. In light of information that the shooter’s weapon was a handgun stolen from a Saskatoon store, Tory began to advocate for a handgun ban across all of Canada. Resistance from Ottawa led Tory to limit the proposed ban to Toronto, in hopes of getting legislation drafted faster. There are still major roadblocks to his suggestion— namely, the high cost of compensating legal gun owners and the continued problem of smuggling from the United States.

Premier Doug Ford is opposed to a gun ban for the same reasons, calling instead for a crackdown on gangs, and Prime Minister Justin Trudeau isn’t committed to it, although he promises to strengthen gun control and take an intersectional approach to the gun problem.

Taking a step back, it looks like the only thing that Canada’s politicians seem to agree on is that this issue runs far deeper than a simple handgun ban—and that’s entirely true. A handgun ban certainly wouldn’t hurt, but it’s not an ultimate solution by any means.

Gun violence cannot be solved with a purely logistical approach: the problem is a sociological one, perpetuated by cycles of poverty and disadvantage in our city.

Increased police presence and gang crackdowns will

We don’t need to pour more money into the police force. We should be investing in under-developed and under-attended communities across the city, engaging with members of neighbourhoods most affected by gun violence, and—most critically—intervening with the young people in these areas who are at the highest risk for gang involvement.

Restricting access to guns is certainly important, and, again, wouldn’t hurt, but it isn’t the crux of the problem. Time and time again, our politicians seem to prove that they’re deliberately Ignoring the fact that the real problem is in the patterns of inequality and mistrust that characterize the relationship between marginalized youth and Toronto’s police and the government.

As well-intentioned as they may be, and whether it’s out of ignorance or negligence, our government and police officials aren’t acknowledging what needs to be done. Mental illness, poverty, and institutional racism in the police force and criminal justice system are the key factors waiting to be addressed in a thorough, holistic way. And until they are, a handgun ban is the least of our concerns.

08 FEATURES

EDITOR | HADIYYAH KUMA FEATURES@THESTRAND.CA

Mindful Moments at UofT Learning to celebrate collective healing Hadiyyah Kuma Content warning: Discussions of mental illness and suicide When one of my best friends invited me to a mindfulness session at the Bahen Centre for Information Technology, I was wary. I was wary of mindfulness and its benefits, and I was wary of the space itself. After the latest death by suicide that had taken place there, my body rejected Bahen. I have class there each Wednesday and even before the latest death, I felt a degree of frustration and melancholia. Sometimes my stomach churns, or sometimes I dissociate from my surroundings and don’t think about where I am at all.

I live with generalized and social anxiety which means connecting to my body is difficult. It is even more difficult in a quasi-public space like Bahen’s multi-use space, which has no walls. If you’ve never been there, it is a section of a room that is closed off but not separate from the rest of the ground floor. The room is often used for multifaith prayers. There are people constantly passing by. But because one of my friends invited me, I felt safer. I had done mindfulness, body scans, and grounding meditations in the temporary therapy I’d attended for a few months.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. By “work” I mean sometimes it de-escalated a crisis into some distress, and some distress into less distress.

On the cold floor of Bahen’s multipurpose room, with a yoga mat, I couldn’t relax; I couldn’t take my mind off the incidents and how the movement of people around the building seemed to erase the fact that they ever happened.

No long-lasting memorials, nothing besides clean floors

and a lot of people studying at once. People walked by, and because the room had no door, it got loud. With so many strangers’ voices crowding into my body, my jaw couldn’t relax. I felt my eyelids shaking. Frustrated, I gripped the knot in my stomach as it flexed up then down. The instructor said to breathe from my belly. It’s harder than it sounds, but once I did it, I started to feel my breaths actually escaping, the knot loosening. The instructor had us silently repeat affirmative mantras—statements like, “I am worthy of love,” and “I deserve to feel happy and safe.”

We then extended these sentiments to our fellow peers and were asked to picture a friend and extend those feelings to them. This is where I felt a shift in my emotions and completely gave into the notion of collective consciousness, a sociological concept I’d learned much about in my classes.

The Bahen incidents are collective trauma, a psychological effect or possibly life-altering event that affects many lives, especially because of its repetitive nature.

It may affect some more than others, but I believe the Bahen Centre is a space that holds this trauma and will continue to do so for as long as it exists. There are spaces like these in many other places. One example of a similar trauma symbol is the Caltrain that runs past Palo Alto High in California, a site of many student suicides in 2014 and onward. Once places are sites for death, they often become acknowledged as symbols for emotional pain. It’s hard to look at a place that has been the site for so much hopelessness and still want to step inside.

By connecting to myself within Bahen’s walls, I

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ultimately felt some of its pain move through me as I lay with my back pressed against its floor. I’d never done mindfulness practice in a room with more than one other person, and contrary to my usual anxiety of sharing space with others, the more I thought about them—the myriad of bodies and minds and the space they took up around me—the more I was able to relax. The voices from the hallway cocooned me and became white noise. I extended my thoughts out to everyone around me, and this might be a stretch, but I felt them extending their well-wishes to me too.

It’s understandable to be wary of mindfulness— especially in a setting like UofT—because it is something that demands you to accept it in order for it to actually work, kind of like a magic show or hypnosis. Mindfulness is often also not a long-term medical solution for various mental health issues, and it doesn’t work for everyone, depending on what your personal needs are. It needs to be used often to be able to impact your life, but it in no way replaces therapy and medication. That said, many of our associations with the triviality of meditation and body work is that they are caricature activities, perpetuated by eccentric media portrayals of Swamis and Yogis (which often stem from a place of Orientalism and othering, but that is another story/academic essay). In fact, mindfulness practice and meditation are rooted in science. Genevieve Tregor of mindful.org writes, “The therapeutic power of mindfulness lies, at its very heart, with the paradox of letting go of the need to fix in order to heal.” Mindfulness is not therapy or a therapy mechanism, Tregor posits, as it does not invite mechanisms through which to solve problems and abolish mental illness. This notion is at the core of trauma work, the idea that healing is what’s necessary, not solving a trauma, because those don’t go away. Anxiety might not leave you alone for good, but you can work to heal the havoc it has wreaked on your body and mind.

The most beneficial aspect of mindfulness practice is that it teaches us to be aware of things and accept them without trying to change or alter them. For students who are often told to perfect everything from their assignments

FEATURES 09

to their social lives, this acceptance is especially beneficial.

“Mindfulness practice is ultimately a way of holding ourselves in service to — and as a witness to — our experience,” writes Tregor. Instead of living inside a moment of exam panic, mindfulness can help us to be aware of our panic, and not try to force it away. Suppression often leads to more serious issues. By being aware of our stress, we can go through its motions and assure ourselves that we, our bodies, are safe.

Awareness is a key part of the “checking in with yourself ” rhetoric that has become so popular in recent years. But what about checking in with your community?

The more I progress through my post-secondary life, the more I find myself craving groups, wanting to talk to and just be around other people. My sense of wanting to be alone is now overrated. I thought isolation was less stressful because I didn’t have to perform for anyone; my mantra was Simon and Garfunkel’s “I Am A Rock.” Sometimes, this still holds true for me. Other times, when it becomes a default setting, it does more harm than good. Though I do think that mindfulness works well as an individual experience that allows you to check in with your body and your own thoughts, I also believe it has a great impact in checking in with others. In teaching us awareness and acceptance, it can help us manifest empathy and community-building mentalities. These mentalities are so necessary in tackling the strategy of isolation that institutions like UofT use to advance their social and academic standings.

We must put forth an awareness not just of an individual’s body, but of the bodies that make up our worlds, the floors and walls that build lives and legacies.

Our collective houses, if you will. It must be an awareness of a terrible tragedy, how the body reacts to this systematic failure of the institution it inhabits, and how it copes with it over and over again. How resilient it is. How it is surprised by a friend’s hug because it’s been so long since it remembered to be tender.

Mindful Moments at Bahen take place every Friday in October in the multipurpose room (BA1255).

10 SCIENCE

EDITOR | MICHAL LECKIE SCIENCE@THESTRAND.CA

Microplastics and their macro effects An introduction to the ecological consequences arielle earn contributor

A history of microplastics At the end of the 20th century, scientists began to think critically about the impact our litter was having on the environment. Plastic litter posed an important question to scientists who knew very little about its fate in the natural world. Mass production of plastic across the globe since the end of the Second World War had made the question about the fate of this growing plastic problem increasingly relevant. In the early 1990s, this question was finally answered: Dr. Richard Thomson was walking along the Plymouth coast participating in a beach cleanup when he picked up a handful of sand in which he saw small fragments of plastic litter. He brought it back to the university to be analyzed in a lab.

He was able to determine that the sand was made up of a mixture of sand particles and microscopic pieces of plastic, concluding that the larger plastics littered into the environment were breaking down in nature, not disappearing. Thus, he coined the term “microplastic”, and the study of this ubiquitous contaminant began.

What are microplastics?

Microplastics are defined as any piece of plastic less than five millimetres in its longest dimension. Microplastic particles can come in a variety of shapes that are used to categorize the abundance of plastic across the world.

They are often categorized based on shape (ex. fragments, spheres/beads, fibers, pellets, foams, and films), size, polymer, and colour. These particles are further classified as either primary or secondary microplastics.

Primary microplastics are microscopic pieces of plastic that are produced by industries and then released into the environment; these primary microplastics are usually microspheres (also called microbeads) or plastic pellets. Microbeads are found in cosmetic products like face wash or even toothpaste, while plastic pellets are produced by industry to be later melted down to form larger plastic products. Primary microplastics are most often released into the environment through our homes (through cosmetic products) or by spills into the environment (often during transport). Secondary microplastics are microscopic pieces of plastic that have been broken down from larger plastic debris in the environment.

These secondary microplastics come in diverse shapes and sizes. For example, plastic microfibers are released from synthetic clothing during a wash cycle. As large plastics such as plastic bags, coffee cup lids, or old toys

accidentally make their way into our environment, abiotic factors (i.e. wind, water, sunlight) break down these larger items into smaller and smaller sizes. These plastics never disappear; instead they become much harder for us to see, to clean up, and to understand.

Why do we care?

What is the impact of these microplastics on the world, why are people talking about them so much, and why are people so concerned about something so small?

Studies have shown microplastics to be ubiquitous in our environment; found in in marine, freshwater, and terrestrial environments across the world. The field is relatively new compared to the study of some other pollutants, and thus far research has primarily focused on the largest global sink of plastic debris: the ocean.

Recent research into freshwater environments show that microplastics are found in the Great Lakes at concentrations higher than they are found in the ocean’s garbage patches.

Despite the increasing interest in the field, we still don’t know a lot about the ecological consequences of microplastics. While we do know that microplastics are readily ingested by many organisms, we do not yet have evidence that microplastics bio-magnify up the food chain unlike other contaminants such as DDT or certain heavy metals. However, lab experiments have shown that high concentrations of microplastics can have an effect across many levels of biological organization in both marine and freshwater environments. Some studies have demonstrated that the impact of microplastics on the lowest level of the food chain, such as zooplankton/waterflea, is lethal.

A major concern for ingestion of microplastic particles is from both their chemical additives and sorbed contaminants. Chemical additives are manufactured into the plastics by industries (ex. flame retardants) and these may cause added effects to organisms who ingest them.

Additionally, a major concern for aquatic ecosystems is the ability of microplastics to sorb dangerous pollutants from the water. Microplastic particles have been shown to function as vectors of toxic chemical pollutants in aquatic environments; as organisms ingest the microplastics, the sorbed contaminants enter the organism’s body as well. This can be dangerous to aquatic ecosystems as these chemical pollutants are entering the food chain at high concentrations and have become more readily available by the extensive pollution of microplastics.

What does it mean?

As far as research has shown, microplastics have not demonstrated a direct impact on humans, but they are affecting the world and biological processes around us.

Scientists are only now discovering the ecological consequences of plastic pollution, often to the lowest level of aquatic food chains. If significantly affected, these organisms have the potential to cause devastating effects across natural food web systems and threaten the biodiversity of many ecosystems. Magnified by the discovery of microplastics is the understanding of the true extent of human plastic pollution. Samples of water, sand, and sediment around the world show that we have littered our environment with plastic without thinking about the ramifications that our litter could cause on the existing biological systems and processes.

Addressing the issue The plastic pollution problem is complex and thus requires many actors working in tandem to find solutions.

There are two main strategies for the mitigation of plastic pollution: reduction and cleanup. To reduce the amount of microplastics in the environment, we can target the primary microplastics through bans such as the microbead bans that have swept across the globe since 2013.

To prevent the release of secondary microplastics into our watersheds, scientists have done a lot of research to better understand the sources of plastic pollution. These sources can either be as direct as household washing machines; mitigated by attaching filters onto the washing machines to prevent the release of microfibers from our clothing into the environment; or the sources can be harder to mitigate such as storm water effluent, wastewater treatment plant effluent, and agricultural runoff.

However, solutions such as filters on storm drains, rain gardens, and specialized systems in our Wastewater Treatment Plants already exist. The other side of plastic mitigation involves cleanup efforts. As plastic pieces get smaller, cleanup becomes much more complex. Tackling the cleanup of larger items is more feasible. Thus, reducing the amount of microplastics that enter our environment every day is often the focus of microplastic mitigation.

What can we do?

Refuse, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. By refusing to use single use plastic we can begin to reduce the amount of plastic that is produced in the first place. Individual actions surrounding plastic pollution matter.

Climate Count-up: #37 Mass Transit Taking a look at Project Drawdown’s solutions to climate change tian ren chu staff writer

This edition of the Climate Count-Up series will focus specifically on potential solutions for the city of Toronto, as proposed by panellists at the Toronto Drawdown Event on September 28, 2019.

PHOTO | HANA NIKCEVIC

If there is one thing that the GTA's diverse population will readily agree upon, it is that daily commutes can be a real pain. In fact, in 2018, Toronto was ranked as the "worst city in North America for commuting" with an average daily commute time of 96 minutes for those using public transit, according to a study surveying commute times in cities all over the globe.

This isn't too surprising given that Toronto has significantly grown over the past decade, both economically and in terms of population—which means that streets and avenues downtown have become a lot more crowded. The overflow of cars pouring into and out of the city via the Gardiner Express or the Don Valley Parkway inevitably creates congestion during peak hours.

But the consequences of dense traffic do not end with frustrated commuters; according to Project Drawdown, "Urban transport is the single largest source of transportation-related [carbon dioxide] emissions."

So how can we mitigate greenhouse gas emissions while also relieving road congestion? Often, the issue of traffic is tightly linked to a sub-optimal public

transportation system. Globally speaking, an estimated 37 percent of all urban transport is done via mass transit (i.e. buses, subways, streetcars). If governments were to invest in public transportation and raise this number to 40 percent by 2050, we could prevent about 6.6 gigatons of greenhouse gases from entering the atmosphere! This would not only help curb climate change and improve air quality but would also relieve traffic and shorten commute times.

Although the percentage of Torontonians taking public transit to work has risen to 37 percent (as of 2016), there is still significant room for improvement.

In other major cities all across the world—such as Stockholm, Paris, Tokyo, and New York City—public transit is currently the number one choice for getting around. What are the incentives for commuters? Public transport done best is more punctual, affordable, and accessible than driving.

Public transportation infrastructure is improving in Canada's largest metropolis: the TTC is currently building its first light line—an electricity-powered vehicle that resembles a hybrid between streetcars and subways. This project is part of The Big Move, the city's 25-year, $50 billion plan to build a greener and more effective transit system across the GTA. In the meantime, why not pick up a copy of The Strand to enjoy during those long commutes?

ARTS AND CULTURE 11

@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

Climate strike and Richard Long’s “A Line Made by Walking” (1967) When environmentalism and art intersect MIRANDA CARROLL ASSOCIATE ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

In 1967, Richard Long walked back and forth and back and forth in a grassy field in Wiltshire, Southern England, then took a photo of the line his steps left in the grass. This photo is titled “A Line Made by Walking” and is now considered to be a seminal work of land art. Long’s work from 1967 calls to mind the global protest held on Friday, September 27, in which young people marched, walking back and forth, hoping to leave their imprint on the minds of the government. Long’s work, and land art in general, should stand as a metaphor for environmental activism and a possible new way forward.

Land art began in the 1960s and 1970s as a new environmental consciousness arose. Artists rejected traditional gallery spaces and used the Earth itself as the medium, the message, and the collaborating partner. Key themes of land art are entropy and ephemerality, the former referring to the inevitable degradation of the work, and the latter referring to the fleeting nature of the art.

The most notable work of land art is a large spiral relief by artist Robert Smithson called “Spiral Jetty” (1970).

Smithson moved 6650 tonnes of basalt to create a large spiral in Great Salt Lake, Utah. The jetty does not mirror the natural, but rather contrasts unnaturally with the surrounding lake, exposing human domination of the natural landscape. Smithson’s work captures human presence on the earth, showing how our presence can be felt even in the

barren desert. However, the spiral has softened in colour over time, and as new crusts of salt form on the edges of the jetty, the viewer can see nature reclaiming her canvas. This work expresses both the domination of the land by humans, and, over time, nature’s attempt to reclaim the land.

Staring into the face of mass extinction and irreversible climate changes, we witness the process of entropy, a gradual decline into disorder. Humans have pushed the Amazon and glaciers to the point of ephemerality. Ecosystems we once thought of as permanent are becoming ephemeral works on our landscape. As time passes and little is done to stop the degradation of our planet, protestors, just like land artists, have decided to create change from the outside, on the lawn of Queen's Park, to affect change on the inside of the government buildings.

This art epitomizes the necessary way forward. Long’s notion of the artist as necessary to create this piece symbolizes the journey we take on the land; how we act upon our Earth no matter how detached from it we may feel. The line left in the grass symbolizes the imprint we as humans have on the Earth. Unfortunately, human impact is, at this time, much more severe than a line in the grass. This line in the grass likely disappeared after hours as nature grew, and covered traces left by the artist. However, people are beginning to walk as Long walked.

EcoArt espouses the importance of both the environment and art. Art is emotional, sympathetic, and kind to artists and viewers alike. OISE at UofT has instituted mu-

PHOTO | COURTESY OF THE TATE MUSEUM

rals on the walls of the stairwells that they call “EcoArt” (a branch of land art), and while they do not fit the exact description of EcoArt or land art, they serve as a reminder of the beauty of nature in a city that conquers it. Land art, and Long’s work specifically, shows a gentle relationship with the land and leaves a mark that does not permanently scar the Earth. We must regard the works that rose out of an environmental awakening in the 60s and 70s as representations of our effect on the land, as in Smithson’s “Spiral Jetty” (1970), and as metaphors of a non-destructive relationship to strive for, like Long’s in “A Line Made By Walking” (1967).

When horror novels stray from fiction Stephen King’s reign of terror continues with racism ABBIE MOSER ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

For the past forty-five years, no writer has dominated a single genre of writing quite like Stephen King. His books have sold more that 350 million copies, he has published more than 60 novels, and has written roughly 200 short stories.

In 1980, only six years after publishing his first novel, Carrie, King would become the world’s best-selling author. It’s clear that horror is King’s calling. King’s cultural legacy transcends literature as many of his books have been adapted into television and film; the 2017 feature film adaptation of It even became the highest-grossing horror movie of all time, making more than $300 million.

With a net worth of roughly $400 million, King is one of the richest authors in the world. King’s talent for writing and ability to continually remain relevant in an industry that is constantly gaining new voices is undeniable. With books about killer cellphones, murderous cars, a rabid St. Bernard, and even a possessed industrial laundry press, King’s covered nearly every pitch possible. He’s even gone as far as appropriating Indigenous and Asian cultures in his novels to further his horrific plot points.

Spanning more than 1000 pages dedicated to a killer clown who steals the souls of children, and with three film adaptations, It is one of King’s most notable pieces of literature. Portraying abusive parents, a bully who goes so far as to kill a kid’s dog, an emotionally manipulative mother, and even the murder of a gay man, the novel explores a variety of dark features that are unfortunate realities for many. While the book is no stranger to controversy as it vividly describes a child orgy, a problematic narrative that goes unnoticed is the Ritual of Chüd.

Within the novel, the ritual is described as originating from Himalayan beliefs. The Himalayans viewed It as a type of tallus—a shapeshifter. In the novel, King claims that within Himalayan culture, a tallus is a part of evil magic and it can read your mind, assuming the shape of the thing you are most afraid of. The Ritual of Chüd is a multidimensional and metaphysical test of will, as it takes place in a mental combat. The ritual requires a shaman, a person who has access to and influence over the world of spirits, to meet the tallus face-to-face before the ritual can be performed. This ritual is performed twice in the novel and ultimately defeats It during the second execution when the Losers Club, the ensemble of main characters in the novel,

channel their inner spiritual recourses to weaken It before they can physically kill It. If you’re unfamiliar with Himalayan culture this tradition may sound somewhat authentic to you, however, King simply made up the Ritual of Chüd and tied it to an Eastern culture. No Ritual of Chüd exists outside of King’s world of make-believe. King appears to have ripped off the spiritual practice of Chöd, which is found primarily in Tibetan Buddhism. A Chöd practitioner seeks to tap into the power of fear through activities such as rituals, and works to cut through attachments to achieve enlightenment. In the case of the Losers Club, they perform the Ritual of Chüd to not only kill It, but to sever the ties of their childhood trauma, which had been preventing them from living their life to the fullest.

Given King’s work and clear love for fantasy, he has the capacity to have made the Ritual of Chüd much more unique and distant from the practice of Chöd. Writing fiction is supposed to require creativity, after all. While a single instance of cultural appropriation is always a call for concern, this is not the first instance of King’s cultural appropritation.

King’s Pet Sematary follows Dr. Louis Creed and his family who move to rural Maine. They soon find a mysterious burial ground, which has been used by children of the town to bury their pets, hidden in the woods near their home.

After the death of their family cat, Louis soon finds out that the pet cemetery has the power of resurrecting anything that is buried there. We soon find out that this burial ground was once used by, and belonged to, the Mi’kmaq community. In King’s tale, the ground that the burial site is on turned sour after some of the Mi’kmaq community dug up the remains of their elders to eat during an incredibly long winter with a lack of resources. They were then touched and cursed by the Wendigo spirit, a man-eating creature or spirit found in the folklore of Indigenous Algonquian communities, cursing the ground and giving it a will of its own. The use of such a cultural landmark as a plot device paints Indigenous practices as “evil” and destructive to white culture, which is not unlike how early colonizers viewed Indigenous communities when stealing their land. The Wendigo is a common antagonist for King, showing up again in his 1999 novel The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, King uses Indigenous cultures to make an interesting plot centered around white characters, but continually fails to provide an accurate representa-

tion of said cultures. When white authors write white stories that center around tokenizing a community, it only furthers historical and contemporary colonial views of Indigenous communities and their cultures.

As a white author, King simply grabs bits and pieces of other cultures––notably, marginalized cultures––that he does not belong to. King isn’t just appropriating culture, he’s using other cultures for his own financial gain and for the mobility of his cultural capital. King’s entire premise of Pet Sematary relies on the use of Mi’kmaq culture; without it, he wouldn’t have his novel or the millions he made from it; without it, his novel wouldn’t have been nominated for a World Fantasy Award for Best Novel in 1986.

By using varying aspects of different cultures to further his own stories, King is actively working to vilify marginalized identities. In the case of It and Pet Sematary, the cultures that he uses––which just so happen to not be rooted in European (read, white) culture or location––are the cultures of the villains trying to harm his white central characters. King is a white author who writes about almost exclusively white protagonists, so his audience is going to be largely white.

People consume media that is familiar to them, that they can relate to, and that they can see themselves in. When he does include people of colour in his work, they’re often the antagonist. His 1980 novel, Firestarter, follows Charlie, a young girl who has telekinetic powers and is being hunted

by John Rainbird, a Cherokee hitman who is obsessed with her. He ultimately is killed while Charlie ends up telling her story to Rolling Stone magazine. King perpetuates the colonial ideology that Indigenous men are dangers and threats to white femininity, thus enforcing harmful ideologies while cherry-picking the aspects of Indigenous culture that he likes, and failing to recognize the violent colonial history that has given him such power to be able to do so as a part of the dominant culture.

By using the cultures of others in his own work, King fails to give people credit for their own culture. Given that he is a fiction writer, most readers will likely assume that the entirety of his novels are based in fiction, giving him the credit for creating the Wendigo. In the case of the Ritual of Chüd, it is in fact fiction and not an actual aspect of Himalayan culture, but since his readership is largely white, they will take it at face value; believing it to have validity and thus perpetuating stereotypes and spreading misinformation.

12 ARTS AND CULTURE

EDITOR | ABBIE MOSER ARTSANDCULTURE@THESTRAND.CA

The Strand reviews JFL42 Eric Andre On September 26, Eric Andre brought his famous

brand of shock and surrealist comedy to JFL42 in the form of two back-to-back stand-up sets as part of his Legalize Everything tour. In his 75-minute set, Andre berated the history of American politics.

Throughout his performance, Andre referred to how the current political climate in America can be blamed on a constitution that was written over 200 years ago and how an update to America’s laws is long called for. He also talked at length about how spending a lot of time with his mother as an adult has led to unexpected life experiences, namely knowing what it’s like to smoke weed with your mom. This led to his closing bit where Andre got a few audience members to hand him their phones so he could mad-lib text their moms from the list of automated words prompted in iMessage.

Andre’s act kept me entertained for its entire runtime, although I was slightly disappointed to hear a couple of jokes recycled from previous shows and podcasts. Though still funny the second time, I would have loved to see a show filled entirely with new jokes. Despite that, Andre’s set was still filled with enough raunch, nudity, and cringe comedy to keep any fan of his laughing.

—Jennifer Dufton, Associate Podcast Editor

Nick Kroll Nick Kroll performed the second night of his Mid-

dle-Aged Boy tour as part of the JFL42 festival at Meridian Hall on September 20, 2019. Emmy Blotnik opened the show with a short set on Michael Phelps’ love of affirmations and meditations, and how ridiculous it is when rich kids get celebrities to come to their Bat Mitzvahs.

After Emmy warmed up the crowd, Nick came out and delivered an hour-long set which spanned topics from eczema, breakups, and birthdays to ageing. While I am a fan of Nick Kroll’s work on Big Mouth and his characters on Comedy Bang! Bang!, I had never seen him perform stand-up and he did not disappoint. Comedy is at its best when you feel that no one is being unfairly put down for the sake of laughs, and Nick Kroll worked his way around this by focusing most of his act on self-reflection.

His best joke told the story of his recent experience in the world of hypnosis while trying to rid himself of his desire for snacks. He described in detail how he was hypnotized over the phone and was told to record the conversation to listen back to each night before he went to bed. As this story might seem fabricated, he asked the audience if they believed it, and when some of them said no, he played an actual audio recording of this hypnosis. The highest point

of his act was getting to hear this recording, where the woman described Nick’s favorite snack foods back to him in various unappealing ways; they were filled with spiders, dirt, and goo. The only things that seemed not to flow in the act were the times Nick mentioned that he was still working out which jokes did and didn’t work, and how the show was a work in progress. As his tour continues, I’m certain he will work through these kinks and come out with an even tighter, well-worked-through set.

—Ellen Grace, Associate Stranded Editor

Ron Funches

Nothing but pure joy emanates from Ron Funches’ spectacularly funny, relatable, and honest stand-up act that glues a smile on your face from beginning to end. I would recommend this show to anyone with a beating heart, and anyone who loves feeling good; and if you don’t fall into those categories, I would say go anyway! Maybe you’ll change your mind.

With the voice of a “Disney bear who teaches responsibility”, it’s not a surprise that Funches brings a quirky optimism to every topic he touches.

Through Rugrat allegories about happiness and his vast amount of knowledge about Koala STIs, everything leaves his mouth and body wrapped up in a delicious cupcake of love and hilarity. It’s rare that I ever leave a comedy special with just a “feeling” but that’s as best as I can describe the lizard signals that went through my brain. If someone were to ask me about the show—which, after this review, no one has—I would probably distill it into one feeling: joy. Pure contentment from the time he introduces the opener to the time he abruptly, and all too soon, ends the show. To his credit, it felt like one of the quickest specials I have ever watched, but, of course, time flies when you’re having fun.

What made the show feel so special and intimate was the picture of family life that Ron Funches paints. We don’t typically see Ron “the Dad”, but it was incredibly relatable, honest, and hilarious.

Funches describes how he, as a single dad, takes care of both his mother and 16-year-old autistic son while balancing his free time with his girlfriend.

While this didn’t take away from the humour of the jokes, I would be lying if it didn’t make the permanent smile on my face all the wider. I don’t know if this was because I went to the show with my own father, who is a single dad, or because I really like families, but either way it filled my heart with laughs and cheerfulness the whole way. From Ron trying to complete his mom’s dream of having sex with Lebron James, to his girlfriend being turned on by his Super Mario skills, you will leave

the show with not only stitches but also a better understanding and appreciation of the man that is Ron Funches.

—Max Nisbeth, Stranded Editor

Kate Berlant (feat.

Joel Kim Booster)

Fun. Funny. Unique. Normally, unique is used as a polite “I don’t like it” for when your cousin gives you a homemade painting for Christmas. But in this case, I use unique to describe what was one of the most special combinations of both stand-up and improv with a final product that will have you laughing ‘til your knees shake.

Why her stand-up was so “unique” was largely because it felt like a one-woman improv show. Her style and use of audience participation made every bit seem fluid and connected in ways that went beyond a normal stand-up performance. Some bits were more stand-up heavy like when she discussed the playfulness of incest and her mask-like face during sex, while others were explicit improv portions.

One of the improv-heavy elements of the show was her crowd work that manifested itself as a mindreading of random audience members, which was surprisingly accurate (she correctly guessed whether a viewer had an injury in their left leg).

For all of these reasons, her show felt in-themoment, special, and like all improv, a high-wire act with fantastic landings. Instead of predicting punchlines, you were anticipating them from whatever which way. Never have I been to a show where a person can go on a tangent about her own chili and feel like, “Wow. Every second was special.”

But it was! And I highly recommend catching Kate Berlant in whatever capacity you can! (Not actually catching her! To be clear I am not promoting kidnapping. Repeat: I am not telling you to kidnap Kate Berlant.) A performance I won’t forget anytime soon.

SPECIAL NOTE: The opener, who also headlined a show of his own during JFL42, Joel Kim Booster, was one of the main highlights of the show.

Hands down, was one of the funniest comedians I saw during the festival and made me instantly regret not going to his headliner. From his spicy takes on cruise boat drug culture to being mistaken as the founder of P.F. Chang’s in Idaho, he commanded laughter from beginning to end. His confidence, timing, and persona were all aligned in a perfect tri-force of comedy that gave me some of the loudest laughs of the week.

—Max Nisbeth, Stranded Editor

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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

Review: The Goldfinch MARJAN DIAN contributor

The Goldfinch, famously painted in 1654 by Carel Fabritius, has since inspired Donna Tartt’s 2014 Pulitzer Prize winning novel of the same name, and currently, its movie adaption directed by John Crowley. With a story that follows a young boy whose fate seems to be intertwined with the painting, there was no better way to experience something so influenced by art than from within an art gallery.

On September 19, the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) hosted an intimate screening of the film with an introduction by AGO Deputy Director and Chief Curator, Julian Cox. It was through his introduction that the powerful history of The Goldfinch was elaborated, with Cox explaining that it may be “the most valuable painting in the world, per square inch” and that it was well worth a visit to The Hague to experience it firsthand.

This was certainly an impactful way to begin our experience with The Goldfinch, however, the film fell just short of doing justice to both the painting and the critically acclaimed novel. Not having read the novel, I relied on the

eventual piecing together of the films multiple vignettes to answer many of the questions raised by the film. The film raises these questions and introduces important characters in the same moment it completely glosses over or forgets them.

Through Theo (Oakes Fegley and Ansel Elgort), the film’s tortured protagonist, we span across years, cities, and instances that all seem to embody the spirit of The Goldfinch; simultaneously haunting and comforting him from the moment his mother is killed in a bombing. Through falling in love with Pippa (Ashleigh Cummings), living with the Barbours—spearheaded by matriarch Mrs. Barbour (Nicole Kidman)—finding safety and purpose through Hobie (Jeffrey Wright), and experiencing abuse through his father Larry Decker (Luke Wilson) and girlfriend Xandra (Sarah Paulson), Theo’s life in every moment is defined

by The Goldfinch and the moment it came into his life at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. However, it is through the film’s portrayal of Boris (Finn Wolfhard and Aneurin Barnard) that there seems to be an extreme discrepancy between the novel and the film, and in this the discrepancies of other characters and moments are amplified as well.

Though Elgort’s despondent performance does an excellent job of capturing the heartbreak Theo experiences through a life that is anything but fair, the gaps left in storytelling do a disservice to many of the other actors whose performances deliver as lacklustre in comparison. In fact, it was only through reliance on my friend who had read the novel that many of the plot holes were filled and that greater credit

could be given to characters that should have played an integral role to the heart and spirit of the story. In her words, “The Goldfinch didn’t capture the depth of the relationships Theo builds over the years and doesn’t develop important characters, like the relationship Theo had with the Barbours—especially with Andy and Mrs. Barbour. His relationship with Boris and Hobie is also neglected in ways that make you feel as though you missed what drove the novel and should have driven the film.” However, she also adds, “Even though many of these moments felt rushed, their staging was identical to how I imagined it reading the novel, so in that way, I really appreciated the cinematography and set design.”

To Theo, The Goldfinch acts as a tether between him and a moment that changed his life forever. It serves as a physical symbol for him to grasp onto the memory of his mother, and a way to remember a time in which life didn’t seem so cruel and relentless. While sitting in the heart of one of North America’s largest galleries, the impact that art has on us all was tangibly felt, and also one of the many reasons the emotional impact of The Goldfinch seemed lost in the creation of the film, leaving fans of the novel perhaps a little disappointed in the level of detail that was missed in favour of moments that seemed to span much longer than needed. Though the magic found in The Goldfinch for Theo and readers alike seems just out of reach, The Goldfinch does still manage to remind us that it is the way in which art inspires our lives and our relationships that we can perhaps use to find compassion for others, and for ourselves.

Your witchy aesthetic is problematic You don’t have to appropriate culture just to say “I’m not like other girls”

ILLUSTRATION | MIA CARNEVALE ABBIE MOSER ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

From crystals, mood rings, “potion” lotions, tarot cards, and makeup brushes in the shape of wands, all things mystical are having a moment in both fashion and beauty. Sound baths have replaced traditional runway show music, and everyone seems to be trying to embody Stevie Nicks’s spooky aesthetic.

Most of our ideas about witches and witchcraft are informed by European culture, most notably the witch hunts and trials that took place in Salem, Massachusetts towards the end of the 17th century. Although it is not an exclusively Western concept—which is how it is often depicted in media—witchcraft has deep history in non-European cultures. Witchcraft is hard to define as it varies from region to region, but generally it’s thought of as trying to manipulate energy in accordance with your will with the intention of creating some sort of change. The practice of witchcraft is rooted in Indigenous African spirituality and is even used in conjunction with religions today; it’s mainly practiced in Western Africa.

Hoodoo, also known as conjure, was first brought to the Americas as early as the 15th century through Africans who were enslaved. Given its origins, Hoodoo was initially a tradition of protection and practicality. The practice would

evolve into a combination of African spirituality and Christian rituals that those who were enslaved would encounter in the Americas. While Hoodoo itself was, to an extent, influenced by Western customs, it is thoroughly tied to its uniquely African American history. This is especially clear in the uses of Hoodoo spells, many of which are used for security, stemming from the violence and fear that those enslaved would have experienced. Some rituals include carrying garlic in your bag or walking backwards into your house to ensure that no one will harm you. Such spiritual practices arose as a manner of preserving and protecting African identity and culture as colonialism tried to force Africans to let go of it. Typically, the craft or rituals are not explicitly described by the practitioners, as those who practice Hoodoo got their power from ancestral spirits. Your ancestry makes up your spiritual frame; it’s where you get protection, strength, and the capacity to manifest. It’s not something you seek out, it seeks you out, it’s a destiny. You can’t find how-to books on it that will be accurate, and any tutorial you find on YouTube won’t be authentic.

Historically, white witches, mainly those who were affected by the Salem witch trials, were believed to be feminist icons; they were persecuted for simply being women who did not necessarily follow the patriarchal norms. For white women, labeling yourself as a witch or practicing witchcraft is an extension of this legacy. It’s to label yourself as defiant,

rebellious, empowered, and different. To be a witch is to be a woman with power in a world where women are often powerless. So, they buy “boss ass witch” t-shirts, white sage, and crystals for their hexing needs, posting it all to Instagram to ensure that their followers know they’re down to curse the patriarchy. However, doing this takes away from the power and history of the marginalized beliefs and traditions that are being cherrypicked for the sake of an aesthetic.

While most people just brush off witchcraft as something that weird white people do, this history and community is not a trend. Cultural appropriation isn’t learning about someone else’s culture or taking a genuine interest in one’s spirituality or religion. Cultural appropriation is when someone decides to take bits and pieces from another culture without understanding the cultural significance or meaning of what is being appropriated. This is typically done with a sense of entitlement, which one may not realize they have, and shows no concern or respect for the culture that is being butchered.

White women are praised by other white people for their “new” and “innovative” healing tea presented in a rose quartz mug, while the people whose healing ritual was taken and likely redefined are criticized for practicing their own culture. If you want to appropriate culture, fine, that’s on you. Just don’t get mad when you get called out on your racist bullshit.

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EDITOR | MAX NISBETH STRANDED@THESTRAND.CA

Jucco figured out how to jerk it Jucco strikes again, and again, and again

t.w. penryn concerned italian father and catholic

Three months ago, I was making some sawhorses for my cousin in my backyard when I heard my little Italian American son, Jucco, beating his meat. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I for one had not discovered masturbation until I was 26. Young Jucco is just 13.

Never had I been prouder as a father than to hear my son jerk it. It was such a powerful moment that was only further made special by the fact I was listening to Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits album. Nothing could ruin my day, not even the fact that all my sawhorses were looking more like sawdonkeys. Little did I know,

this blessing would in fact become a horrible curse.

Jucco is an eccentric young child. If you remember, he has exhibited streaks of violence towards me and my Steve Miller records, but overall, he is a good boy. He doesn’t succeed in school but doesn’t fail either. He has a variety of interests and dreams. All of that changed once he learned how to rub one out. It did not stop at just one go-around. Jucco’s tug career had only just begun.

My child is so goddamn horny it makes no sense.

How can a 13-year-old have this much horniness?

When I was his age I was concerned with where Steve Miller was and whether it was weird for a boy to want to kill his own father so that Steve Miller could adopt him. Jucco has one concern and one concern only, jack-

ing his little dick all the time. He is constantly jerking off. I don’t even know to what because I don’t believe in computers, and I know he has no imagination since the only thing he ever brings home from art class is a piece of paper with the alphabet written on it.

When I found my copy of the July 4, 1995 National Review crumpled up in a ball and stuck to the floor, I knew I needed to put my foot down. I am calling his mother Isabella Racconogi di Calvacanti right now to see if she will come and help me put a stop to our son’s masturbation fixation. We haven’t spoken since his birth but maybe, just maybe, she will be able to help.

Profiles of regular Robarts patrons Humans of Robarts beck siegal human of robarts

Sports Man My name is Sports Man. I wake up at 7:30 am, work out, eat a bowl of cereal, and get dressed (basketball shorts, basketball shoes, t-shirt, baseball hat). I get my backpack and leave. It is empty except for my computer; a pen; a big, clear, plastic water tumbler; and a pair of Apple headphones. It collapses in on itself. Fabric touches fabric touches fabric. I stop at Shoppers, where I buy three packs of cinnamon chewing gum. Immediately, I start chewing. I open and close my mouth as I chew, breathing around the stuff. I get to Robarts by 9 am on my fifth piece of gum. Take the elevator to the ninth floor and sit at the first desk I see. I take out my computer and set it and my phone to charge, each device always already fully charged. I plug my headphones into the jack, open Safari and type in www.foxsports. com. I push my chair back, recline against it. I open my legs, each bracing against an inside corner of the desk.

I cross my arms over my chest and raise my chin in appraisal of whichever live sports media has been selected for me. My day has begun. I am Sports Man. My author brushes past me, computer under arm, grey water

bottle in hand, pacing the library. Their eyes fix on my computer screen, seeing, but not seeing the game, registering and judging my lifestyle. My eyes fix on them.

I am Sports Man. Nothing in your eyes will keep me from my sports. I recline further.

The Almond Eater I wake up late: noon. I sigh and get ready to start my day. I find the slippers to match my pyjama set. As the pan heats, awaiting the eggs I will cook in it, I prepare my bag for the day. In my bag, there is a textbook and a computer. I make myself tea, which I will carry in a thermos in the front of my small purple bag. And I will bring a snack. From the top of the refrigerator, I take down the much–dreaded glass jar. I also take my only container from the drying rack. It is the container I took to school yesterday and the day before and the day before that. It is a small rounded not-quite-cube with a blue lid. It is taller than it is wide. I use the plastic measuring spoon stored in the jar to fill it with almonds. I bought these almonds from Bulk Barn 6 months ago. I bought one of their reusable jars– a big one, probably a similar volume to my head– and filled it with almonds.

It cost $40. I put the small container of almonds in my bag. I cook and eat my eggs, dress solemnly, and hav-

ing put it off for as long as I can stomach, I leave. At 2 pm I arrive at Robarts. I go to Robarts every day, but only for a short period of time. I don’t like this place; I force myself to do it. Just like I force myself to lug around the almonds. The weight of the small portion I’ve packed for myself seems unbearable. I go upstairs to 9 Sussex and sit alone at a table. I unpack and arrange the contents of my bag around me. I open the container of almonds and place it an arms’ length in front of me. Closer to me, I place my textbook, open to the exercises I’m meant to be doing. I do not want to eat the almonds and I do not want to do the exercises.

I shouldn’t’ve bought so many fucking almonds. I do one exercise while I nibble my almonds. I do so noisily, hyper-aware of the feeling of them in my mouth. One at a time. I imagine throwing handfuls of them back, snacking on them like I don’t resent that I have nothing else to snack on. I dismiss the thought and bite into an almond, taking a third of it into my mouth, holding the remainder between my pointer finger and thumb. I type with my other hand.

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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

Congratulations on getting hired, here is your tech startup orientation skylar cheung contributor

Welcome to our startup, the one that is obviously better than all the other startups in town. We have been operating for five years and collapsed thrice, so we’re not really a startup—we just like the shiny sponsor-snatching title. We will be the hottest, coolest, most authentic startup forever.

To affirm our superiority, we ensure that we always carry the air of a California surfer bro and tag all of our work with our slogan: “The coolest tech startup with the coolest team.” Our team has shrunk to the size of three members—three and a half now that you’ve been in the house for two months. I am the head honcho, for I started this unpretentious ecosystem that thrives on soylent meetings where only I speak, and motivational quotes found on Lululemon tote bags. You can call me David (my first name), or Raven (my online nickname), or Lucky (the name of my dog), or anything you want. A startup is only as cool as its head honcho.

Next in line, we have the logistics guy. He makes sure we get the sponsors and clients we need to keep the mill running, whatever that means. I think I found that on the newest iteration of the Lululemon totes last week, or I might have made it up in the middle of a trip induced by the shrooms one of our super-megaawesome-money-gifting-partners sent us. You can have some, but we don’t expect you to, for you’ll be too intimidated to sample anything more than Peanut M&Ms as an intern. Our logistics guy is named BLG,

which is kind of like RBG. Everyone knows RBG. BLG stands for Best Logistics Guy, in case you were wondering. His real name is Burt. Everyone calls him BLG, which is kind of like BLT. Then we have Lewis, who works remotely. I think he is at a comedy show in Idaho right now. Lewis is cool, we vibed at a conference somewhere on the West Coast sometime during the last five years. Lewis is the project manager. He manages all the projects he completes, he’s a real wizard. He fills in all the gaps and wears all the hats. The two of you can share the hats this summer… maybe he can spend more time making promotional videos that way. Sorry, we didn’t really tell you what you’ve been hired to do. Last night, I decided you would be better as a marketing intern than a business intern. So, you can call yourself ‘summer intellectual’ on LinkedIn, in case I decide to change your job responsibilities next week.

Now, the first hour of today will be spent reviewing government-issued pamphlets on workplace injuries.

After that, you are expected to navigate through the labyrinth of poorly labeled Google Drive folders, memorizing each path to every possible destination. You will be quizzed on paths at the end of the day: questions will be like, “How do you get to ‘08 Thank You Sponsors Unwatermarked’?’” Also, make sure you familiarize yourself with the tech-speak you’ll find in our internal and PR documents. It’s all part of the branding, you have to maintain this inexplicably upbeat tone in all the emails and phone conversations you hold on this

job. Complaints and rants are reserved for company competitors and unresponsive tech support teams.

Speaking of tech support, can you please finish a spreadsheet tracking the progress of all the tickets we’ve sent to the support team of our CRM (Customer Relationship Management) provider since 2015? Make sure to record time stamps, exact quotes, the name of each party cc’ed, and of course, the response time between parties. No one will ever bother to check this spreadsheet after you finish it. But it is good to have, just in case.

Spreadsheets are important, but it is also important to publish ads, add HTML tags to web pages, correspond with cross-continent partners, spam-email potential sponsors, join in on bi-weekly team retreats, double as a photographer at sponsored events, and take notes at every two-hour meeting. No one will ever bother to read the notes after you finish it. But they are good to have, just in case.

Your super sparkly world-changing telos is rooted in the very human need for security. We need you on the team to ensure that everything we may need will be provided. You matter to the team - you are one of us now! I will formally welcome you over the online team channel. Make sure you react to my announcement with at least three emojis to demonstrate character fit for the coolest, least evil, and most authentic startup around.

How to find your Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs victoria mcintyre contributor

Psychological needs: They’ll serve food out on the quad!

So, grab a paper plate, sit in the grass awkwardly, and try to make a new friend! Also, I don’t care what anyone says, Burwash has some quality food items. The pizza is 10/10 and there’s fresh fruit all the time so you can pretend that the three cookies you just ate are all part of a ~balanced diet~.

Besides, there were raisins in that last one anyways so you basically ate a salad.

There’s an aroma espresso and Starbucks at Bay and Charles Street which is sick for studying and wasting your money in a fun way that sneaks up on ya. Would recommend for working and snacking.

P.S. Rabbas is open 24 hours go crazy bitches, get some groceries for your mini fridges.

Safety needs: Your dorm is the only place where the endless chanting can’t reach you. But you have to leave it eventually. Because it’s time. Time for you to embrace this feeling—this urge for release and change and growth. Time to do what you have to do. What I’m saying is, the bathroom is outside your room and down the hall to your left.

Belongingness and love needs: It’s hard to feel like you belong in a new place but hey, a few weeks into uni, you’ll suddenly find that that one girl from your frosh group and those people you met in Burwash are be-

In terms of intimate relationships, I know the question on your mind is: should I go to that greasy frat party? Here’s a brief but honest list of pros and cons.

Pro: Make a funny memory with the new friend who goes with you.

Cons: Literally everything else my god those houses are a literal ball of sweat... even the walls are wet. Run, save yoursel— Pro: Frat parties are somewhere that you can get booze during Vic’s dry frosh week. (Which is what should actually be illegal if you ask me).

Esteem needs: You made it into a great school and you’re making your way through the tough beginning of it all! Go you! Plus, you look great in that frosh week t-shirt. Self-esteem = boosted.

coming your friends. Belonging comes with time. Just try not to immediately add every single person you meet on Instagram. It’ll clog up your feed.

Self-actualization: Congrats, you didn’t just sit in the bottom of the shower and cry for all of frosh week!

You put yourself out there and met some new peeps!

You did it. I mean, sure, there was that one shower crying session but that was just some healthy, good oldfashioned catharsis. In sum, you’re doing great sweetie.

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@STRANDPAPER THE STRAND | 22 OCTOBER 2019

Why you should date someone who equals your interest in going to Disneyland

If you haven’t seen Tangled then fuck off

ellen “rapunzel is my favourite princess because she is the most likely to bullet journal” grace princess

How do you find love in 2019? According to my therapist, the reason you feel a “spark” isn’t because soulmates are real; it’s because that person is familiar to you—you have common interests and shared goals for the future. But what does she know?

The most important question to ask yourself before pursuing a new love interest is this: does this person’s desire to go to Disneyland equal your desire to go to Disneyland?

Last year, as an homage to the Into the Woods theme, I brought my stuffed toy Pascal (the chameleon from Tangled) with me to Highball. Upon entrance, the security guard asked me what I was hiding in there and was very shocked that I was not trying to smuggle drugs in with me but was actually paying homage to Tangled. The point I’m trying to

make here is that I would NOT date that guy.

I do admit there are a lot of issues with Disneyland.

Walt Disney is one shitty little man. I would NOT date him.

Fuck that guy. But that doesn’t mean I don’t dream of someday waking up next to someone I love, going to eat waffles shaped like Mickey Mouse, and spending the day riding on Splash Mountain and making fun of the Hall of Presidents.

Yes, capitalism exists and is bad or whatever, but I think what matters most is finding someone who is willing to suspend their disbelief enough to get our initials embroidered on Mickey ears (…okay, maybe that’s taking it a little bit too far).

On the other hand, if you do not want to go to Disneyland, DO NOT date someone who really wants to go to Disneyland. You might convince yourself that you would do anything for this person and it’s really not that big of a deal, but I fully believe that if you do not share the same interest

in Disneyland, you do not have the necessary core values to make it as a couple.

To quote Roxane Gay (I WOULD date her) in her book about the politics of Disneyland, “We should be able to say “this is my truth” and have that truth stand without a hundred clamouring voices shouting, giving the impression that multiple truths cannot exist.” I believe the best way to find love in 2019 is to find someone whose truths are equal to yours. For me, those truths are, “Lady and the Tramp implies the way to fix the class divide is a romanticization of the Other instead of the abolition of class as a whole” and “I really want to recreate the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp.” Those truths can both exist. And love can exist—in Disneyland, or outside of it.

Five new themes to spice up survivor max nisbeth stranded editor

be oh-so-optional. The stakes have never been milder!

But the number of catheters has never been higher!

1. Jeff versus Everyone THIRTY EIGHT SEASONS we’ve watched as Jeff Probst, executive producer of Survivor, watched from the sidelines, biding his time. Now, finally, he will be unleashed like a Tom Jones playlist on a jukebox and wreak havoc! This season, Jeff will be on the hunt. The contestants will arrive as one group, confused and unaware of the monster looming under their noses. Like onset diabetes, he will spring up out of nowhere and pick off each of the members one by one. He will compete in the challenges by himself (even during the team ones) and, obviously, will dominate every week. Jeff will feed. Jeff will kill. Jeff will win. Who will host, you might ask? Fucking Jeff Probst, of course.

3. Cats versus Dogs Finally, we can put aside this “cats or dogs?” debate and have an objective and scientific result regarding the superior pet species… by having only cat and dog contestants! Oh, you thought they would be cat and dog owners? WRONG-O! The species barrier for reality TV will be broken! Meows will be uttered, barks regretted, and (literal) shit will be fucking everywhere!! Who will win? Who will run away? And how long will it take for PETA to shut it down? Find out on “Cats versus fucking Dogs!”

2. Geriatric Attack No longer will the stereotypical single old person be subject to a first week elimination. NO! In the spirit of Cliff’s success on Big Brother, we will be including only people over the age of 65! Dinners will be had at 4:30 in the afternoon, conversations will be problematic, challenges will take days to complete, and clothing will

4. Communism versus Democracy Pretty self-explanatory. One tribe will use communism, the other, democracy. Now somebody grab me my popcorn and greasy chicken leg.

5. Escape the Fucking Island Why must Survivor be about survival alone? Who actually wants to survive on a deserted island? The time has come for these motherfuckers to take their spindly legs and sweaty butts off the GD island! Will this be like

LOST? First off, great question. Secondly, YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT! The Others will be released, Desmond will crawl out of the hatch, and Jacob will finally become Jesus. “We gotta got back, Kate!” will be said at least five times per episode. Finally, we’ll get the ending we deserve! As well as some planes!