February 21st, 2022

Page 1

February 21, 2022 Vol. CXLII, No. 19

Different stories, same goals Black History Month 2022


2

THE VARSITY THE VARSITY NEWS

news@thevarsity.ca

THE VARSITY

A letter from the cover artist

Vol. CXLII, No. 19 21 Sussex Avenue, Suite 306 Toronto, ON M5S 1J6 (416) 946-7600 the.varsity

thevarsity.ca

the.varsity

thevarsitynewspaper

The Varsity

@TheVarsity

Hannah Carty Editor-in-Chief

MASTHEAD

Aditi Putcha Creative Director Tahmeed Shafiq Managing Editor Stephanie Bai Managing Online Editor

editor@thevarsity.ca

creative@thevarsity.ca managing@thevarsity.ca online@thevarsity.ca

Sarah Kronenfeld Senior Copy Editor

copy@thevarsity.ca

Lauren Alexander News Editor

news@thevarsity.ca

Maya Morriswala Comment Editor

comment@thevarsity.ca

Sarah Folk Business & Labour Editor Jadine Ngan Features Editor

biz@thevarsity.ca features@thevarsity.ca

Alexa DiFrancesco Arts & Culture Editor Sky Kapoor Science Editor

arts@thevarsity.ca

Rania Phillips Varsity Contributor

There is a distinct lack of representation of Black subjects within the Western artistic canon, and learning to draw under the prevailing notion that a ‘standard’ body is a white one created issues for me as a Black artist. When creating artwork, I found myself struggling to remember my own features: the shapes of lips, curves of noses, and shades of brown that I saw in myself and my family every day. But practice helped me take notice of these details and build a love for them — in particular with hands, and the way that the palm fades into the darker tone of the back of the hand. In this piece, I contrasted the unique expressiveness of hands with their collective direction. Black history and modern social justice movements are an ongoing story of how people have made change through geography, culture, and legislation. I tried to capture that in this work — our stories are different, but our goal is the same. Rania Phillips created the cover of this week’s issue celebrating Black History Month.

science@thevarsity.ca

Angad Deol Sports Editor

sports@thevarsity.ca

William Xiao Design Editor

williamx@thevarsity.ca

Makena Mwenda Design Editor

makenam@thevarsity.ca

Caroline Bellamy Photo Editor

photos@thevarsity.ca

Andrea Zhao Illustration Editor

illustration@thevarsity.ca

Abigail Dollries Video Editor

video@thevarsity.ca

Aaron Hong Front End Web Developer

aaronh@thevarsity.ca

Andrew Hong Back End Web Developer

andrewh@thevarsity.ca

Nawa Tahir Deputy Senior Copy Editor Marta Anielska Deputy News Editor

deputysce@thevarsity.ca

utm@thevarsity.ca

Maheen Zulfiqar UTSC Bureau Chief

utsc@thevarsity.ca

Padraic Berting Graduate Bureau Chief

grad@thevarsity.ca

Cedric Jiang, Jessie Schwalb, Elizabeth Shechtman, Beatriz Silva Associate News Editors Shernise Mohammed-Ali, Nina Uzunović Associate Comment Editors Alyanna Denise Chua, Rhea Jerath Associate Features Editors Charlie Morocz Associate A&C Editor Angel Hsieh, Mehrshad Babaei Associate Science Editors

Department of Student Engagement launches Black Student Support Review Sessions gather feedback from Black undergraduate students

deputynews@thevarsity.ca

Lexey Burns UTM Bureau Chief

Emory Mitchell Public Editor

COURTESY OF RANIA PHILLIPS

publiceditor@thevarsity.ca Talha Anwar Chaudhry, Safiya Patel, Cherry Zhang Associate Senior Copy Editors Mekhi Quarshie, Audrey Miatello Associate Sports Editors Janhavi Agarwal, Ana Pereira Associate B&L Editors Rebeca Moya, Jessica Lam Associate Illo Editors Ehsan Etesami, Corinne Langmuir Associate Photo Editors

Lead Copy Editors: Jonathan Blumenthal, Linda Chen, Julia Da Silva, Robert Guglielmin, Selena Ling, Mona Liu, Oeishi Mukherjee, Sanjaya Sritharan, Kiri Stockwood, Ajeetha Vithiyananthan, Grace Xu, Yan Xu, Valerie Yao Copy Editors: Huda El-Zein, Razaan Ganatra, Zarmina Jabarkhil, Lina Karim, Karida Liu, Shizza Malik, Erin Poon, Omar Qazi, Bella Reny, Denisse Rocher Isaias, Urooba Shaikh, Khishore Shivakumar, Sarah Stern

BUSINESS OFFICE Parmis Mehdiyar Business Manager

business@thevarsity.ca

Angelina Ouyang Business Associate

angelinao@thevarsity.ca

Ishir Wadwha ishirw@thevarsity.ca Advertising Executive Mansi Premkumar mansip@thevarsity.ca Advertising Executive The Varsity is the University of Toronto’s largest student newspaper, publishing since 1880. It is printed by Master Web Inc. on recycled newsprint stock. Content © 2021 by The Varsity. All rights reserved. Any editorial inquiries and/or letters should be directed to the sections associated with them; emails listed above. The Varsity reserves the right to edit all submissions. Inquiries regarding ad sales can be made to ads@thevarsity. ca. ISSN: 0042-2789

CHERYL NONG/THEVARSITY

Alexa DiFrancesco Arts & Culture Editor

On February 11, the Department of Student Engagement launched its first session of the Black Student Support Review. The sessions, which are hosted through Zoom, aim to gather feedback from Black undergraduate students about the support offered at UTSG. The sessions are an hour long and will run until March 15 at various dates and times. In an interview with The Varsity, Amna Adnan, the coordinator of the sessions, talked about the format of the sessions and how she hopes they will bring change at U of T. Session structure All the Black Student Support review sessions follow the same structure, which includes an

introduction, guiding questions, and providing participants with student resources. Students also have the opportunity to share which resources have resonated with them and what support they want to have implemented going forward. Adnan also shared that the sessions aim to create a “low-key environment” so that “students feel like it is a safe space for them to be vulnerable.” She added that another focus of the sessions is to “leave a lot of room for students [to] bounce ideas off of each other and have [a] discussion.” “We’re looking to have as informed [of] an approach [to] our programming as possible,” Adnan said. “The feedback sessions [factor] into it because it’s good practice to get the insight from the community that you’re looking

to support instead of… [popping in] like, ‘I know exactly what you need.’” Allocation of funds Adnan explained that the sessions were created after the Department of Student Life received additional funding. Though Adnan didn’t comment about the source of this funding, she highlighted it would in part be put toward gifting participants a $10 gift card of their choice. Participants can also fill out an anonymous survey about the sessions to be entered to win a $50 gift card of their choice. Adnan explained that these incentives are to “recognize and honour students’ time and energy in attending… whether they are acting as a student organization representative or they’re just coming as a Black student themselves.” “It takes that extra step of vulnerability and effort [to] share these stories,” Adnan added. “And what [the sessions are] asking them to do is share their honesty with a stranger.” Next steps Adnan described the feedback sessions as a “consultation phase,” noting that the Department of Student Engagement aims to present the feedback it receives to the different divisions of the Department of Student Life. These divisions include Health & Wellness and Academic Success. “[We want] to see what is already in existence,” Adnan explained. “The research that is being done [is to] inform how we create, for example, a mentorship program. Or how do we improve orientation and transition?” Adnan also highlighted that future programming would be created around the three areas of mentorship, orientation, and transition. “Our department already works to support [students in] those three areas — we’re looking [to] see how we can better support the Black undergraduate student community in those areas as well.” Although Adnan noted that students who have attended the feedback sessions have “really appreciated being able to share their thoughts” and have “enjoyed the atmosphere,” the Department of Student Life is unsure if the sessions will run again next year. “It’s not intended to be necessarily a repeating process,” Adnan said.


thevarsity.ca/section/news

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

3

13 U of T community members donated to freedom convoy U of T donors contributed 1,435 USD in total, leaked donor list shows Hannah Carty & Tahmeed Shafiq Editor-in-Chief & Managing Editor

On February 14, Distributed Denial of Secrets (DDoS), an organization dedicated to leaking data, distributed a list of over 92,000 donations that were made to the Ottawa ‘freedom convoy’ through the fundraising website GiveSendGo. Protesters began collecting funds on GiveSendGo after GoFundMe blocked their attempts to raise funds through the website. The leaked documents from DDoS contained the dollar amounts of each donation, alongside identifying information such as donors’ email addresses and zip codes. Since the files were leaked, a number of news organizations have produced a large volume of press reports analyzing different aspects of the donation data. The Varsity has discovered that at least 13 U of T community members made donations, which total to 1,435 USD. Protest background The protests, which began in Ottawa, were initially

meant to challenge COVID-19 vaccine mandates for truckers crossing the border, and expanded to oppose public health measures that fight the spread of COVID-19. However, protesters have been seen displaying racist slogans and iconography, including a few with swastikas and confederate flags. The Ottawa protests have proven to be a source of frustration for Ottawa residents over the past month due to their constant noise and disruption. After some protesters moved to Toronto, they also caused disruptions around the U of T campus, causing the university to temporarily close some buildings. Protesters have also received funds from several other donation drives, including the ‘Adopta-Trucker’ campaign, which the DDoS group leaked further information about on February 15. U of T donations Out of the 92,000 donations released in the document, 12 were made through U of T email addresses. At least one additional person who donated with a personal email address confirmed in their

donation message that they are a U of T alum. Three of the emails belonged to professors, three were student email addresses, and three were alumni email addresses. The Varsity could not confirm the identity of the remaining three emails. Of the three professors who donated, two did not respond to The Varsity’s requests for comment. One declined to comment on the record, but confirmed that they had donated. One professor commented on the donation form, “Keep your courage up! Every sane person in Canada is rooting for you!” The highest single U of T-affiliated contribution was from an alum, who donated 500 USD. The median donation amount was 50 USD. National and international figures In total, Canadians donated around 4.3 million USD out of the approximately 8.4 million USD that the convoy collected on GiveSendGo — slightly over 50 per cent of the total. However, the actual number of donations from the United States was much higher. Americans accounted for approximately 52,000 of the 92,844 donations that

have been leaked, while around 36,000 Canadians donated. The Varsity’s analysis shows that large financial contributions came from email addresses associated with universities in Canada and the US. The leaks include at least 107 donations that seemed to be made using email addresses with domain names that are associated with Canadian universities. These donations amounted to over 11,000 USD in total. Universities often give out email addresses to students, staff, faculty or alums. The Varsity has not attempted to contact every individual who did use a university email address for verification. An additional 229 donations were made using email addresses that end in “.edu,” which are associated with US universities. These donations totalled to 18,537 USD, and included emails from top-tier universities including Harvard, Yale, Stanford and MIT. However, these numbers may not represent the full picture, as it is possible that university community members donated using other email addresses.

UTSU votes to divest from firms ‘complicit’ in occupation of Palestinian territory Member-submitted motion at SGM causes lengthy debate Elizabeth Shechtman & Lauren Alexander Associate News Editor & News Editor

Content warning: This article mentions an instance of Islamophobia. During the University of Toronto Students’ Union’s (UTSU) February 16 Special General Meeting (SGM), the union passed a motion that mandates that it divest from “[all] firms complicit in the occupation of Palestinian Territory.” The agenda for the meeting was not approved until nearly two hours into the meeting, due to debate on the inclusion of the motion on Israel and Palestine. During the meeting, there was strong representation both for and against the motion, with more than 300 participants joining in for the heated conversation. BDS at U of T The motion relates to the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement, which is an effort to economically pressure Israel to halt its occupation of the Palestinian territories by boycotting companies that profit off the occupation. BDS has long been a hot topic among student unions at U of T. In November, the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) approved a motion that was similarly controversial, which reaffirmed the union’s commitment to the BDS movement and set guidelines for how members should participate in the movement. The motion included a section mandating that members should seek alternate sources for kosher food products in favour of ones that do not “normalize Israeli apartheid.” Another motion approved at the same SCSU meeting reaffirmed the rights of Jewish students within the union, but it was amended to remove language affirming Jewish students’ right to “organize & advertise events to express their political, cultural and/or religious views.” A number of students spoke out about the motion, describing it as antisemetic and a barrier for students looking to access kosher food on campus. A letter from U of T President Meric Gertler criticized both motions as well. One week after its initial approval, the union amended the motion to remove the portion about kosher foods, but declined to establish any alternative protections for kosher food at UTSC. The UTSU has come under fire because of issues relating to Israel and Palestine before. In August, the union’s executive committee signed

an open letter written by the Muslim Students’ Association and addressed to U of T, which demanded that the university release a statement “condemning the human rights violations in Palestine” and provide supports for Palestinian students. The union later voted to rescind its signature, but subsequently voted to re-sign the letter three weeks later. Debate at the meeting The motion to divest was submitted to the SGM by a member of the UTSU, Kaamil Hassan. The SGM allows students outside of the board of directors to submit motions, which is why the submission was allowed. During the general meeting, students discussed the motion. Many were worried that this was not the UTSU’s place to make such a large decision on behalf of the entire UTSG undergraduate community. Others felt that the situation in Israel and Palestine was an important topic to discuss, feeling that it was related to similar problems, such as issues surrounding Indigenous peoples. One student said that “being silent to the occupation of Palestinian territory makes us also complicit in settler colonialism in our time, as well, by approving and giving consent to the oppression of Indigenous people around the world.” Another student suggested that this motion be completely taken off the agenda since, they said, “It’s not for a student union to take a position on this issue on behalf of all of its members [and] to divide students into these lines.” The student further explained that the UTSU is meant to represent every single student on campus and to provide services to them, but that the union is not in the business of doing foreign policy in the Middle East, nor should it be dividing students on highly controversial and highly divisive issues. Another student disagreed, saying, “[The UTSU needs] to make a concrete statement exactly on what our stance is when it comes to Israel [and] Palestine. That’s exactly why it’s so important that we vote on this motion.” Hassan, the first-year student who submitted the motion, spoke about the motion and why he originally submitted it in an interview with The Varsity. “U of T has been focusing on protecting human rights, such as [rights for] the Indigenous peoples of Canada,” he said. This inspired him to take action on other issues pertaining to human rights. He pointed out that Amnesty International had declared that Israel’s actions are a human rights violation against the Palestinian people. He said that although he understands there is backlash against

the motion he submitted, he is glad that there is a conversation happening around the topic. He also claimed that misinformation about the motion has been spreading, including rumours that the motion banned kosher food, even though kosher food is not mentioned in the motion. “I hope that the widespread misinformation online about what happened at Wednesday’s meeting will be addressed,” he said. He and other people involved in pro-Palestine advocacy at U of T have also been the target of Islamophobic harassment online. “There are tweets calling us jihadists and animals… and there needs to be a change and resolve such issues to prevent further harrassment,” he said. One tweet directed at an announcement of the motion reads, “Jihadis are taking over Canada with @JustinTrudeau Wake up Canada, stop it.” Community reacts to the motion In a statement on Instagram following the meeting, the UTSU wrote about the motion. It shared that it is the union’s legal responsibility under the Canada Not-for-profit Corporations Act to place and vote on member-submitted motions. During the meeting, members were not able to discuss the specific terms of the motion. Therefore, the UTSU will meet with its board of directors “to discuss in detail what this motion means practically for the Union.” The UTSU encourages students who have any questions or concerns to contact the union. Members of the Anti-Semitism Working Group (ASWG) also shared a statement after the motion passed. The ASWG had previously released a report on recommendations for addressing and discussing antisemitism on campus. The members stated that they had been informed that, at the meeting, an “Equity Officer” from the UTSU said that the ASWG had concluded that “anti-Zionism is never anti-Semitic.” “We understand that this substantially swayed comments and opinions at the UTSU meeting and on social media,” reads the statement. In response, ASWG members wrote that the assertion made by this officer was incorrect, and that “none of us agree with the statements reported to have been made about our position or report at the UTSU meeting on 16 February.”

IRIS DENG/THEVARSITY

“The ASWG did not conclude that criticism of Israel is never anti-Semitic,” reads the statement. It also clarifies that the ASWG concluded that “one contemporary form of anti-Semitism consists of hate speech related to Israel, Israelis, and Jews based on the actions (real or imagined) of the Israeli government.” Many different student organizations took to Instagram to express their concerns or remarks on the situation. The Palestine Forum, a student group at U of T that supports discussion and awareness around Israel’s occupation of Palestine wrote a congratulatory post on the motion and a number of suggestions for how to implement divestment. On the other hand, Hillel UofT, the center for Jewish life on campus at U of T, expressed concern about the motion in a recent Instagram post. The post included comments by Naena Drazman, East Coast assistant campus coordinator for StandWithUs Canada and the president of Students Supporting Israel at the University of Toronto, who wrote, “Discriminatory motions of this nature are unacceptable. Boycotting the Jewish state does nothing to foster peace between Israeli and Palestinians and ultimately denies Jews rights to self-determination.” There was also concern about the motion’s language. Evan Kanter, a student member of the U of T governing council, wrote in an email to The Varsity that the motion that passed was too vague to interpret how exactly it will affect the U of T community. Specifically, he questioned what the UTSU meant by a “firm” in this motion, and what it means to be “complicit with the occupation of Palestinian Territory.” He felt as though there were too many unanswered questions within the motion, and he hopes that “the UTSU will apply straightforward dictionary definitions of these terms when interpreting this motion.”


4

THE VARSITY

news@thevarsity.ca

NEWS

U of T’s Black community concerned about faculty representation Only 6.7 percent of U of T faculty identify as Black Mekhi Quarshie Associate Sports Editor

The lack of Black faculty members at U of T has long been an issue. The 2019 Report on Employment Equity, which was released early last year, revealed that only 6.7 per cent of U of T faculty identifies as Black — even though nine per cent of individuals in the GTA identify as Black. U of T has recently taken more action on antiBlack racism by instituting initiatives like the Anti Black Racism Task Force Report, which put together a list of initiatives that were set to foster Black excellence, and the Scarborough Charter at UTSC. Regardless, many are distressed about the continuous lack of inclusivity for Black individuals on campus. Perspectives of faculty, students “We’re dramatically underrepresented,” said Notisha Massaquoi, an assistant professor at UTSC, when asked about her feelings on the representation of Black professors at U of T. According to her, this lack of representation is felt at all levels

on campus — which is unfortunate considering how important she says that it is to have Black teachers at U of T. “The Black experience is something that you have to live to become an expert… I’m not saying that white professors can’t teach it, it’s going to be a different experience,” she explained. Massaquoi teaches an anti-Black racism course at UTSC and is very critical of the university’s antiBlack racism initiatives. When asked about the feasibility of the university’s goals, Massaquoi said, “I think with any strategy there's a certain percentage of the strategy that is what I would call window dressing… it’s a signal that we want to do something.” In order to create more than just superficial change, Massaquoi said that an adequate amount of resources need to be allocated by the university’s senior administration toward addressing anti-Black racism on campus. As part of the 6.7 per cent of Black faculty at U of T, Massaquoi noted that her presence as a Black individual in academia had an evident impact on her racialized students. She said that it's difficult for students to aspire to be successful in

ARTHUR HAMDANI/THEVARSITY

academia when they don’t see people that look like them in those exact spaces. The benefits of having a Black professor for courses on social issues are not limited to racialized students. Massaquoi explained, “as a Black professor, a lot of the appreciation I get is from white students, who are saying, ‘I have a better feeling for what it actually means to experience racism.’ ” Students have also noticed the trend in the lack of diversity. “[I have] four classes related somehow to Africa, and only one is taught by an African teacher,” pointed out Fatimata-Absa Ba, an international exchange student taking courses at UTSG. In terms of how this affected the educational value of the courses, Ba stated that it didn’t faze her as much. The only difference she found in the classes was that “[the African professor] would invite us to talk about our personal experiences… it was more personal.” This desire for more personal spaces isn’t a feeling held by Ba alone. Adriana Williams, the president of U of T’s Black Students’ Association (BSA) also said that she sought out inclusivity by joining extracurriculars. Williams joined the BSA as a general member in 2017, and immediately noticed that it was a space where “[she] felt welcomed… and safe.” Williams also noticed the lack of diversity in some of her classes. When asked how many Black folks were in her classes, she said that there were “little to none.” While Williams notes that she was lucky enough to make a friend group consisting of people that looked like her during her first year of university, not all students have this opportunity. “I can say from observations, sometimes there’s not always that opening space for folks to kind of get acquainted,” she said.

University action The Anti-Black Racism Task Force, a group created to investigate how the university can address anti-Black racism on campus, has been advocating through its recommendations that U of T should make inclusive spaces for Black students a reality. It’s been almost a year since the university accepted the 56 recommendations that the task force set forth in April 2021, and three of the commitments from the task force have been marked as completed so far on the recommendation tracking website. When asked about the time frame of the commitments, Jodie Glean, U of T’s executive director of Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion (EDI), stated that all commitments are scheduled to be completed within the next three years, which is an extension from the schedule the university set in April 2021 — last year, co-chair Desma Charlemagne Michel had said that it would take one to two years. Glean explained that the initiatives have encountered bureaucratic delays due to the fact that “they require thorough consultation with many stakeholders and approval through the University’s governance processes.” Glean also stated that some of the progress being done is being completed by the Division of People, Strategy, Equity, and Culture. Their team has been hard at work since the release of the report implementing an unconscious bias training program, a diversity recruitment staff manual, and an applicant tracking system that analyzes how racial groups are affected during the hiring process. In discussion about how to increase the proportion of Black faculty to more than 6.7 per cent, Glean noted that they want to ensure that the workforce is representative of the city. Currently, the GTA is composed of nine per cent of Black individuals, so the task force seeks to raise the number of Black individuals on the campus to those levels. According to Glean, the task force will continue to hold itself accountable to its EDI goals and commitments. The most recent updates on the representation of Black faculty on campus should be available in the next Report on Employment Equity released later this spring.

Open letter criticises COVID-19 guidelines at campus theatres Students say restrictions don’t align with provincial rules Beatriz Silva Associate News Editor

On February 1, Shreya Jha and Isabella Cesari, students involved in the performing arts at U of T, published an open letter in response to the COVID-19 restrictions placed upon drama activities. The letter, which asks U of T to review the restrictions, has gathered over 120 signatures from students, alumni, and faculty. Ontario has introduced more flexibility on its COVID-19 guidelines with the transition to the first step of its reopening plan, which began on January 31. According to these guidelines, concert venues, theatres, and cinemas may be open with a 50 per cent capacity limit, as long as the audience shows proof of vaccination, is screened, wears masks, and remains seated. Moreover, the plan also outlines exceptions for mask use and physical distancing Nevertheless, campus theatre bookings are still unavailable for students. According to the letter, the university also doesn’t offer exemptions for performers, who are required to “wear masks, goggles or face shields” and stay two to three metres apart. Drama groups are also still being encouraged to have a very limited audience or none at all. The discrepancy between arts and sports In the open letter, students expressed frustration not only with the discrepancy between provincial and university rules, but also between the rules applied to arts performances and other sectors of the university, such as varsity sports.

U of T announced an increase of in-person activities starting February 7, and some events and activities like recreational sports have since returned to in-person operation. These comply with provincial recommendations and guidelines and provide exemptions for the use of masks while doing physical exercise. The discrepancies between the policies have raised a deeper discussion about the general public view on the importance of arts. In an interview with The Varsity, Jha, a first-year student in the Temerty Faculty of Medicine program, said that “this is indicative of a sort of larger problematic attitude that there is towards the arts that existed before the pandemic, and unfortunately, will probably exist after — the idea that they’re extraneous [and] non essential.” Impact on students When expressing their concerns to the university’s administration directly, students said that they have received “little to no clarification,” and even emails that contained inaccurate information about the provincial COVID-19 guidelines. Consequently, the letter criticizes the lack of information accessible to students on the updated restrictions for performances. “You have to dig to find the actual relevant parts of the documents which are themselves difficult to find, at least online,” Cesari said. Students in arts programs, such as theatre or music, are among the most affected by these measures, especially those involved in extracurricular performing activities. Being able to practice and show their work is extremely

FIONA TUNG/THEVARSITY

important for these students, since it helps them acquire artistic skills and opens doors to many opportunities in the field. Without being able to use campus venues, groups and clubs have been encouraged to seek off-campus venues. Though this alternative has been successful for some clubs, it can be a barrier to those that lack funding to go off campus, meaning they can’t offer students the same practice opportunities. Despite being unable to use campus theatre venues to practice or perform, Cesari affirmed that having to keep a two-metre distance when performing is one of the greatest challenges presented by the guidelines. Additionally, students from other programs have also been impacted by the lack of arts events on campus. Dunc Urquhart, an Emmanuel College student, told The Varsity that they feel that the lack of arts performances

has impacted U of T’s sense of community. Urquhart said that bringing performing arts back to campus would lift people’s spirits and bring them together. The university’s response In an email to The Varsity, a U of T spokesperson affirmed that the university is now reviewing restrictions, including those on arts performances, under the framework of updated provincial rules. They acknowledged the importance of extracurricular activities to students, and wrote that they “will have more information soon.” In regard to the open letter, Cesari told The Varsity that her hopes are to promote a conversation between the university’s administration and students about the restrictions so students’ their voices are taken into consideration, and to achieve campus theatre restrictions that align with those promoted by the Ontario government.


thevarsity.ca/section/news

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

Three international Black students discuss lessons about joy, anti-Black racism in Canada Centre for International Experience hosts panel for Black History Month Jessie Schwalb Associate News Editor

On February 16, the Centre for International Experience hosted a panel discussion featuring three international students, each hailing from a different majority Black country. The event, which was brought back for a second time after its success last year, is one of the many events organized by U of T to celebrate Black History Month. The event provided an opportunity to learn about the three speakers, hear their insights and experiences, and recognize the variety of experiences and viewpoints held by Black students at U of T. Joys and challenges Elvin Kauda, Isaiah Colthrust, and Obianuju Nwadike are from Malawi, Trinidad and Tobago, and Nigeria, respectively. Although they come from vastly different areas, the experiences and advice they shared held many commonalities. One lesson that both Nwadike and Colthrust emphasized was to put effort into finding community. Nwadike, a recent UTSC graduate, found friends by participating in Christian religious groups. But Colthrust found a community in a more unlikely place. “I met my group of people because, on a whim, I decided to go to yoga class at 6:00 am,” recounted the fourth-year UTM student. Colthrust also became a residence don, further engaging with the U of T community. “It’s been very fulfilling, and I can really look back on my university experience as being a positive experience not only for me, but for those other people who I’ve interacted with directly.” Although the panellists had joyful moments, being Black and being international students posed particular challenges for their experiences. Although she’d seen instances of anti-Black racism on TV, Kauda, a fourth-year student in architecture at UTSG, stressed that the particular dynamics of race in Canada were entirely new to her. “Back home, there are other races but they’re in the minority,” Kauda said. “Even if these minorities do have their own kind of racist things, or they say something or do something that’s racist, it doesn’t really affect me.” Colthrust described a similar experience coming from his home country. “[In Trinidad], it isn’t in the same dynamic that you will see here, where it’s one class or majority that’s expressing it onto the minority, but more

intolerances between different groups who you could say are on a similar level.” However, others were available to help Colthrust adjust. “Fortunately I had people around me who were also international and others who have lived here for many, many years and who are Black, who could help me understand and almost mentor me in what it is to be Black in a Western country,” said Colthrust. One part of adjusting to this dynamic was coming to grips with being seen as a Black person. “This whole idea of Blackness as a whole, or being Black, or identifying as Black — for obvious reasons, in the Western context, it is a lot more pronounced,” said Nwadike. “The Blackness part of it is just this label that has been, I guess, stamped on my forehead.” Despite these factors, Nwadike pushed back against the idea that challenges should always

is held of us as Black people coming into this country.” Kauda echoed this point. “We don’t struggle all the time. We also live normal lives,” she said. Advice Interspersed with descriptions of their experiences, the panellists offered advice for U of T students and recommendations for the administration. Nwadike’s advice for students who are Black international students is, “Make sure that you’re not walking around feeling like you’re already defeated.” Kauda also stressed the importance of recognising one’s self worth. “For all people of colour as well, you’re more than just what you’ve been through. You’re so complex and amazing.” To improve her mindset, and her mental health more broadly, Kauda accessed services

The event explored a variety of Black students’ viewpoints. CAROLINE BELLAMY/THEVARSITY

be the focus of conversations about Black people. “When we’re thinking about people who were not born in Canada or have not lived in Canada for the longest time, we shouldn’t only think about — oh, because you’re coming, what barrier did you face, what challenges do you face,” said Nwadike. “Obviously those are things to consider in order to address the issue, but I don’t want that to be the only narrative that

from Health & Wellness, a decision she strongly recommends. “When you come from a country like Malawi, mental health issues aren’t really problems. People are like, well, there’s people starving,” she said. But through connecting with Health & Wellness and securing a therapist, Kauda was able to make positive changes. “I learned to embrace my mental health, take care of it, and know how to take care of it. And know

Campus unions work together to host Police Free UofT speaker series Desmond Cole, author of The Skin We’re In, included in line up Lexey Burns UTM Bureau Chief

A number of student organizations are endorsing a speaker series called “Imagining a Police-Free UofT,” which will aim to build community through discussions around policing on campus and its possible alternatives. Participating organizations include the University of Toronto Mississauga Students’ Union (UTMSU), the University of Toronto Students’ Union, the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union, and the University of Toronto Graduate Students’ Union. The speaker series comes in the wake of the university’s August 2021 decision to rename the organization formerly known as the Campus Police to the Campus Safety Special Constable Service, in order to make the group more “approachable, accessible and distinguishable.” Organizers were also motivated by the calls of Black, Indigenous, and LGBTQ+ people to hold the police accountable for police brutality and systemic racism.

Speaker series The speaker series began on January 24 and held its second session on February 17, which was opened by Tenzin Butsang, a PhD Student at Dalla Lana School of Public Health. “The police will give handshakes [to] white supremacists, but handcuffs to Indigenous land and water defenders; donations to far right groups, but destruction for encampments and poor communities,” Butsang said in their introduction. They added that community-centred care alternatives are the appropriate response to a failed policing system. Desmond Cole — a Toronto-based journalist, activist, broadcaster, and the author of a number of books including The Skin We’re In — also spoke at the event. So did Mimuna Mohamed, an anti-Black racism and anti-Islamophobia activist who spoke of their own experiences with police, both on and offcampus. “I wish there were people that genuinely could help stop crime,” Mohamed said in their remarks during the event. “The police don’t.”

The third session will occur on March 21 and will feature Beverly Bain, an assistant professor in the Department of Historical Studies who teaches women, gender and sexuality studies. Student perspectives In an email to The Varsity, UTMSU President Mitra Yakubi explained that the union is supporting this series because its members have shared stories about their negative interactions with Campus Safety and it wishes to help start a dialogue about this issue. “The goal is to start a bigger conversation around police free campuses and what that looks like in terms of community support, resources, and building campuses that care for one another,” Yakubi wrote. In its Instagram post advertising the event, the UTMSU also noted that although poor experiences with campus police might not be a “lived reality for everyone,” they do impact many students on campus who the UTMSU wishes to support.

5

that it’s also a big issue, and that it doesn’t undermine what’s happening back home, and it doesn’t mean I’m not grateful.” This lesson is particularly important for racialized people, who generally experience more barriers to receiving help for mental illness. Professional help can help racialized students work through the specific pressures placed on them in Western contexts. “I’ve gotten opportunities and positions where I wondered, am I here because I’m a racial minority?” Colthrust shared. But with help from a therapist, he was able to work through some of these thoughts and arrive at a different conclusion. “What I would tell myself coming in or anyone in a similar situation is, ‘You’re here for a reason. You deserve to be here and to try to be the best version of you that you can.’ ” Additionally, the panellists recommended that students proactively take advantage of the career centre, grants, and the International Student Centre. But Kauda and Nwadike stressed that the university administration should do more. Because of her experience as an architecture student, Kauda called on the university to teach students about the accomplishments of diverse peoples. “There’s Black architects, why don’t we talk about them?” she questioned. Kauda also stressed that Black people shouldn’t only be talked about — they direct learning. “I didn’t have any professors that looked like me, or even female professors.” Her experience reflects broader trends at U of T. According to the 2020 Report on Employment Equity, 7.2 per cent of appointed staff identify as Black, compared to 9 per cent of individuals in the Toronto area — the university has not yet published student demographic information publicly. For her part, Nwadike urged the university to ensure international students had access to programming. “[U of T should make sure] either within the school that they’re providing the funding to support international students, if there’s that limitation, or they’re also sharing a good range of other activities or programs that everyone can benefit from,” she said. “It’s quite disheartening to be a student, and out of ten emails you get only two or three apply to you because you’re not Canadian or a [permanent resident].” Beyond institutional changes, Colthrust had a message for all members of the U of T community. “There is this idea and dynamic in Canada, in the US, wherever you might be, that Black means a specific thing. And anyone who looks Black follows a specific breakdown of background or context or things you understand. But I and everybody else on this panel is a living example that, although we might look in what this context we call ‘Black,’ we have completely different aspects about us.” However, some students disagree with the proposal to completely disband Campus Safety. Justine Hopkins, a political science major at UTM who commented on a UTMSU post about the events, wrote in a message to The Varsity, “Although student-led initiatives are important, many students feel safer with police who have certified experience patrolling the campus.” She is also concerned that such a move would leave the people who work for Campus Safety unemployed. Campus Safety response UTM Campus Safety wrote in an email to The Varsity that it “[provides] a critical service to the campus, maintaining a safe, secure and equitable environment where community members learn, work and live.” It noted that in 2019, officers responded to more than 1,700 calls for service before the pandemic-related closures of campus. “Through services provided by Campus Safety, crime rates have decreased over the last five years,” wrote Campus Safety. The UTM Campus Safety office is also involved in services for Remembrance Day, the Positive Space Campaign, orientation, and the United Way campaign. It is partnered with the Erindale College Special Response Team, a division of St. John Ambulance located at UTM.


6

THE VARSITY

news@thevarsity.ca

NEWS

U of T Libraries expands students’ access to scientific journals Libraries to continue to advocate for open access Hannah Guo Varsity Contributor

On January 27, University of Toronto Libraries announced a new agreement with the Public Library of Science (PLOS), an open access publisher with a library of scientific journals. The new agreement expands U of T’s access to 12 PLOS journals and will allow U of T researchers to publish an unlimited number of articles on the journals’ websites without charge. It also provides “[a] 25% discount to non-U of T corresponding authors for papers where U of T researchers are co-authors.” The topic of accessibility to scientific journals has garnered more attention in passing years, and a study from 2021 showed that the average article processing charge paid by authors has increased. As article processing charges have continued to increase over the past decade and inflated the costs of research as a result, librarians have stepped in to promote open access to academic research to make these services more affordable for students. Graeme Slaght, the acting head of the scholarly communications & copyright office for

University of Toronto Libraries, further clarified in an email to The Varsity that “one aspect of the ​P ublic Library of Science deal that is new is that it is NOT a subscription.” This means that U of T researchers will not only be able to publish articles without fees, but that their articles will also be accessible for everyone, which is not the case with traditional subscription services. This would also mean that graduate students would not receive enough funding to publish an article otherwise can now post through PLOS for free. However, Slaght emphasized that University of Toronto Libraries’ advocacy for research accessibility will not stop here. Slaght wrote that U of T libraries will continue to work with national and international partners to “find opportunities to support Open Access and Open Science.” It will also engage the U of T community in dialogues regarding the current scientific landscape and future expectations. University of Toronto Libraries already hosted a panel series last November, which focused on the five aspects of open science — people, transparency, inclusiveness, collaboration, and sustainability.

This agreement has expanded U of T’s access by 12 journals. JESSIE YANO/THEVARSITY

Peace Now U of T: A new club inviting meaningful discourse on the Palestine-Israel conflict Co-founder of the club Alex Rose shares his hopes for the university Syeda Maheen Zulfiqar UTSC Bureau Chief

Peace Now is an Israeli organization demanding a resolution to the Palestinian and Israeli conflict by way of the successful implementation of a twostate solution. Recently, the organization has established a chapter at U of T. The club held its first event on February 13, hosting Chen Alon and Sulaiman Khatib. Alon and Khatib are members of Combatants for Peace (CFP), a Palestinian and Israeli organization fighting for peace in the region through nonviolent means. Fourth-year student and co-founder of Peace Now U of T, Alex Rose, spoke with The Varsity to share his motivation and hope for the new club. Rose contacted the Canadian Friends of Peace Now, the Canadian chapter of Peace Now, in May 2021 to begin discussions about setting up a chapter at U of T. Prior to his enrolment at U of T, Rose was a journalist at the Canadian Jewish News. During this time, he was inspired by a meeting with the executive director of Peace Now, Shaqued Morag. “I felt like [Peace Now’s] way of looking at the situation was the one that resonated with me the most and gave me the most hope,” said Rose. He wished to bring this club to campus because it presents what the people “in the middle” want, rather than the louder and ubiquitous arguments used by people on opposing sides of the conflict.

ANDREA ZHAO/THEVARSITY

Rose stressed the need for “a strong voice speaking out, saying that we believe in dignity, respect and freedom for everyone.” He added that it was important to explore avenues of resolution for all those involved in lieu of picking a side. From his own observations, Rose thinks that, oftentimes, discussion pertaining to the conflict

SCSU elections: Voting begins on March 1

establishes Israelis and Palestinians on opposing sides. Peace Now, which is a predominantly Jewish group, “respects everyone’s narrative and perspectives.” The goal for Rose has been “to try to help introduce the Palestinian perspective into Jewish discussions around Israel on campus.”

Syeda Maheen Zulfiqar UTSC Bureau Chief

Elections will be held virtually

HANNAH BOONSTRAH /THEVARSITY

The Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) is currently holding its 2022 general election for next year’s executive committee and Board of Directors (BOD). Voting will be open from March 1–3. The campaign period began on Wednesday at 5:00 pm. The Chief Returning Officer has not yet released the full list of candidates on the SCSU’s website or social media and did not provide The Varsity with the list of candidates by the time of publication. The BOD voted on the schedule for the election at its December meeting. It was decided that two weeks will be allocated for nominations and campaigning and three days for voting.

He continued, “People use the metaphor of bridge building… the first thing we can do before we can really even start building the bridge is laying the foundations on either side. And both sides need to want to build the bridge and I’m someone on my side who does.” Rose explained that while Peace Now identifies as a Zionist organization, anyone may join. He understands that this may not be something all Palestinians are comfortable with, but he nevertheless hopes for this club to be “the beginning of a more open, understanding, respectful discourse.” Rose identifies a severe deficit in different groups’ understanding of one another due a lack of knowledge about one another. It is common for people to think a more understanding world, according to Rose, is one that understands them better. While he used to agree, he now recognizes that it would mean more than that: “If I want a more understanding world, I have to try to understand other people better,” he explained. Regarding plans for the remainder of the semester, the club plans to host a screening of the CFP’s documentary Disturbing the Peace. Rose also has an idea for a series he plans to call “What the land means to me,” in which people associated with the conflict through nationality or other ties to the land “share why [the land is] important to them in their family, their heritage, [and] their tradition.” He added, “I think it’s better for everyone if at least we learn more about why people care so much about the things they fight for.” At the time, the union had assumed that the elections would be held in person, as per the university’s plan for the winter semester. Sarah Abdillahi, SCSU president, had noted at the meeting that doing a hybrid election would be expensive. However, in light of the university’s decision to delay the return to in-person classes and the union’s advocacy for a safer return to campus through its email campaign, the election will now be held entirely virtually. As per the union’s policies, elections will be held entirely online only when “any event or circumstance beyond the control of the [BOD]” restricts in-person voting. UTSC students will receive the voting link in their university email inbox on March 1 at 10:00 am. The voting platform being used is Eballot.


Business & Labour

February 21, 2022 thevarsity.ca/section/business biz@thevarsity.ca

It’s not people of colour’s responsibility to solve microaggressions Microaggressions disproportionately impact Black women Jasmin Akbari Varsity Staff

Chester M. Pierce, a psychiatrist and Harvard professor, coined the term ‘microaggression’ in 1970 to describe subtle yet ongoing acts of racism. The definition has developed over time to now include acts of indirect bias and discrimination on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, and disability. It is important to recognize the immense effects of microaggressions on Black people, especially in the intersections of racialized and other minoritized groups, such as Black women.

Unpacking the implications of professionalism While all working women can likely attest to dealing with gender-based microaggressions in the workplace, Black women are subjected to both gender and racially motivated microaggressions. In an article from Benefit News, TaChelle Lawson — the CEO and founder of Fig, a brand strategy company — discussed how she is held to different standards as a Black woman. She explains that she is looked down upon for displaying the same character traits that her white men co-workers exhibit, such as being direct and non-emotional in a workplace setting. What makes microaggressions different from

REBECA MOYA/THEVARSITY

outright racism is that they are small offences that build over time into greater problems. In the workforce, microaggressions can include statements such as “I don’t see colour,” which signals that the speaker does not acknowledge the racial discrimination people of colour face. Another example includes asking a Black colleague if they plan to wear their hair “like that" to a client meeting. This perpetuates the belief that natural Black hairstyles are not professional. Microaggressions can not only lead to lower productivity, but also contribute to a hostile and invalidating workplace, affect physical and mental health because of the stress they cause, and devalue social group identities. Professionalism and microaggressions can often go hand in hand. Professionalism is influenced by white colonial standards, which place Western and white beliefs over those of ethnic minorities. An example of this exists within expectations of hair grooming. Women of colour are expected to have straight hair and forego their natural hair. While professionalism may be important in a workplace, the existing Eurocentric standards can be toxic and have been used against Black people in the workforce. Responding to microaggressions An article by the Harvard Business Review outlines a framework to help Black people navigate microaggressions in the workforce. They suggest reacting to microaggressions in one of the following ways: letting them go, responding immediately, or responding later. Letting it go means being silent, which can be emotionally taxing for individuals facing microaggressions. In comparison, responding immediately can prove to be beneficial when correcting inappropriate behavior; however, the perpetrator

may respond negatively. Responding later and addressing the perpetrator privately is another option, but the problem that Black employees face is the possibility of being considered passive aggressive or petty. With these three completely different options, it can be difficult to discern what approach is best. Historically, when Black people have spoken up, they have been subject to backlash. Fighting microaggressions in the workplace The onus for creating a safe workspace without microaggressions should not be on marginalized communities but on privileged allies. Before beginning to address microaggressions, allies need to know what a microaggression is and educate themselves on why it is detrimental. When allies make mistakes surrounding microaggressions, they should take the response given to them constructively and educate themselves on what they can do instead of replying defensively. Even though some workplaces have shifted to the virtual world, microaggressions have not disappeared. Remaining empathetic and compassionate, especially during the stressful COVID-19 pandemic, is important and can be done by regularly checking in. Many organizations are beginning to recognize that investing in equity, diversity, and inclusion is integral to maintaining a healthy work environment. Large corporations such as Deloitte, Oracle, Procter and Gamble, and Pfizer have implemented their own equity, diversity, and inclusion programs. In doing so, they are able to create resources available to marginalized communities such as Black and LGBTQ+ groups in Canada. Overall, as we take time to reflect on the experience of the Black community during Black History Month, it is important that we work on creating a workforce that is fair and just, with equal opportunities and resources available to everyone. Supporting marginalized communities is important to promote the innovation and growth of Canadian society and create meaningful changes for generations to come.

Finding my footing as a Black student in finance A reflection on the unique opportunities and challenges I faced in my undergraduate journey Jamar Norick Varsity Contributor

On March 19, 2018, my life drastically changed for the better when I found out I was a recipient of the National Scholarship at the University of Toronto. This full-ride scholarship allowed me to materialize my dream of attending business school at the best university in the biggest city in the country. I grew up as a child of a single mother in East Vancouver, British Columbia, where the majority of my youth was dedicated to competing in sports. This was common for someone in my situation — especially considering I had the build of someone who would find success in sports, perhaps much more than in academia, let alone high finance. I set out on my path of pursuing business school, armed with my own built up determination and motivation from childhood, and backed by the financial support of the university — the only way I could have ever found myself in a Rotman Commerce classroom. With a height of six feet and five inches, and being half Black, I was a clear visual outcast in every class I entered. This was not unfamiliar to me, having grown up in Vancouver, but now I was more self-aware about the limitations that identity can have on one’s career. Why was it the case that no one looked like me? Was I in the wrong place? Looking back on these questions today, a couple months away from graduation, I know the answers. In the field of finance, Black people are historically underrepresented for an array of societal reasons, and no, I was not in the wrong place. It took me a while to find my community in

Toronto, but once I did, I found my footing. I was very fortunate to have a number of opportunities to speak publicly on behalf of U of T at several important events in relation to my scholarship, which allowed me to meet mentors who were successful professionals in various fields. This opened my eyes to a key disadvantage that many Black students face when attempting to begin a career in a field in which we are underrepresented. There’s a much smaller likelihood that we will have access to a close connection to a professional in the industry who can guide us from a young age. I didn’t know any investment bankers; I had no contacts in private equity, no family friends in consulting, and no close mutual connection to anyone of the sort. With this lack of connections comes a significant barrier to entry. Fortunately, there are people out there who are looking to lend a hand to those who are not from their inner circle, and a few of these remarkable people took me under their wing and mentored me to grow into the person I am today. This was my new professional community, and it allowed me to set goals and take advantage of available opportunities. However, I still needed a social community — one that had others in my shoes. Back to my earlier question of why no one looked like me in my classes, it turns out that there were others; it just takes time to find each other. I was contacted by the founders of a student group called Black Rotman Commerce (BRC), whose mission is to create a space for Black students in the program to share opportunities, guidance, and support in what is a challenging undergraduate experience for all. This group served as the hub

of opportunities for everyone involved, and I am mentorship from a professional and community eternally grateful to have found it. perspective, I was able to put myself in a position The BRC allowed me to be aware of recruiting to be hired from the get go, and I haven’t stopped. timelines for diverse hires, provided resources for Throughout my undergraduate degree, I am interview preparation, and much more. I attended proud to have interned at TELUS, BMO Capital the first BRC social and one of the first Black CaMarkets Sales & Trading, and BMO reer Conferences — I wanted to be a part of this Capital Markets Investment exciting and fast-growing organization. Years Banking. I will be returning later, as the current president of the BRC, I full-time to BMO as an investcontinue to dedicate my time to fostering an ment banking analyst on the environment where Black students can be Mergers & Acquisitions team adequately prepared to enter the industry and upon graduation. I am proud connect with top industry representatives. to be Black and I am eager to Perhaps the most crucial thing I have make a change in an industry learned in the context of being Black in where not many of us have business school and the industry is that succeeded before. While our opportunities for us are out there. The hurdle path is certainly different from is that big banks and other related firms are our peers, it is still one required to hire the best of the best, worth pursuing. as these are for-profit corporations at the end of the day. With this, it is paramount that as Black students, we work to put ourselves in a competitive position to be hired. If you can be the best candidate in the interview room, and also come from a diverse background, you have something truly unique to offer Jamar Norick is a graduating a firm that has Rotman Commerce student and historically lacked in the president of Black Rotman Commerce. cultural representation. COURTESY OF Through my JAMAR NORICK


Comment

February 21, 2022 thevarsity.ca/section/comment comment@thevarsity.ca

We need to talk about Hollywood’s colourism problem Dissecting “the daughter of racism” in the film and television industries Abi Akinlade Varsity Contributor

Zendaya, Tessa Thompson, Zoë Kravitz, Amandla Stenberg — what do all these names have in common? Aside from being young, subjectively talented actresses, they are all what I’d like to call Hollywood’s ‘acceptable’ version of Black. All of the aforementioned actresses are biracial or light-skinned, meaning that they benefit from a form of discrimination against darker-skinned people that we call colourism — also known as “the daughter of racism.” The term ‘colourism’ was only very recently integrated into formal dictionaries, although the phenomenon where privilege is associated with proximity to whiteness has been studied for decades — most notably by Alice Walker, who defined it as “prejudicial or preferential treatment of same-race people based solely on their colour” in her book In Search of our Mothers’ Gardens. Colourism is so much more than a surface-level issue; it permeates countless facets of everyday life, including employment, relationships, housing, and personal safety. In the context of the film and television industries, it utterly warps the portrayal of Black people — specifically, Black women — in the media, and it does a grave disservice to dark-skinned people of all races. It’s never been a secret that Hollywood has prevailing issues with diversity, inclusion, and representation. In 2019, people of colour made up a paltry 17 per cent of leading roles, 14 per cent of film directors and screenwriters, and nine per cent of studio executives. Several award shows — most recently, the Golden Globes — have been blacklisted for being “whitewashed,” and Black actors have begun speaking earnestly about discrimination and abusive conditions they’ve faced on set. However, along with the industry’s meagre attempts to solve this problem, an entirely new beast has been unleashed.

O

HA

S YA EE

Y

SIT

R VA

E /TH

L

Take the 2018 film The Hate U Give, for example. The box-office adaptation of Angie Thomas’ New York Times bestselling novel ostensibly meant a lot to Black women — specifically, darker-skinned women like myself, who felt like we could see ourselves represented in the protagonist, Starr Carter. After all, the original cover illustration depicted her as dark-skinned. This is why it came as a shock when Thomas announced that Stenberg, a light-skinned actress, had been cast as the principal lead. Although Thomas tried to tell audiences that she had intended for Stenberg to be cast all along, her illustrator revealed that the cover illustration had followed the exact description of the character that she had been provided, saying that she was just as perplexed as everybody else.

This is just one in a long line of examples in which a light-skinned actress has been cast in a role canonically meant for a darker-skinned woman. For instance, Zoe Saldana used makeup several shades darker than her skin tone to portray real-life American singer and civil rights activist Nina Simone. What more can be said when an industry would more readily spend money to darken an actor’s skin and craft a prosthetic to give them a rounder, wider nose, than cast an actor who has the lived experience of being dark-skinned? And then there are the reactions of lighterskinned actors in response to the consensus about them dominating the industry. Zendaya commented that she acknowledges the privilege that she has and goes out of her way to

audition for roles meant for white women, while Thandiwe Newton recently broke down in tears, focusing on her own feelings of dejection that “women who looked like her mom” didn’t feel represented by her. But how could we? We don’t look like Newton! While there is nothing inherently wrong with lightskinned actresses being cast in leading roles, and it is still a step in the right direction in regard to decentring white narratives in film and television, one must ask themselves why Hollywood executives are so keen on making the default Black character in any given film or TV series light-skinned. There are a plethora of assumptions and stereotypes associated with dark skin that are in direct contrast with how society views lighter, or whiter, skin. Dark-skinned people are perceived as more aggressive, more resistant to pain, more masculine, unattractive, and strong to a fault. Rarely are we afforded the chance to be seen as delicate, fragile, vulnerable — in other words, to be seen as fully human. To exclude us from well-rounded narratives like coming-of-age, romance, and supernatural stories is to rob us of our multifacetedness. One of the best parts of Black culture is the fact that we are not monolithic; our community prides itself and finds its strength in the fact that we share both common and divergent identities. As a film lover and a TV connoisseur, I deserve more than to see the erasure of girls and women of my skin tone and of darker skin tones. We are women who grew up being compared to their lighter-skinned friends, who desperately wished that they could have looser curl patterns and were told to stay out of the sun lest they become even darker. Our stories matter, too; I, for one, refuse to be relegated to the sidelines any longer. Abi Akinlade is a third-year English and drama student at Woodsworth College. She is an associate opinions editor at The Strand.

All head coverings should be equal under law Balaclava fashion trend reignited controversy over head covering laws Stephanie Shih Varsity Contributor

With 102.6 million videos hashtagged on TikTok, 248,000 posts on Instagram, and a 5,000 per cent search increase in the past 12 months on Google, head coverings — specifically balaclavas — have likely never been so popular in history. While fashion designers, celebrities, and social media have popularized the balaclava as a trendy winter garment in a mask-mandated world, this head covering was originally worn in 1854 by European soldiers fighting in frozen conditions during the Crimean War. Regardless of the amount of enthusiasm it has generated from the public, the balaclava sparked controversy when Vogue France commented “Yes to the headscarf!” on a picture of American actress Julia Fox wearing a headscarf styled like a babushka during Paris Couture Week back in January. Rage flooded the comments. Vogue France’s response highlighted the double standard in France: Muslim girls have been banned from wearing headscarves in public schools since 2004, but fashion icons are praised for wearing the same thing. The history of hijab bans Back in 2010, France was the first European country to enforce a nationwide ban to prohibit full-face veils like niqabs in public spaces. Even during the pandemic, France made it mandatory to wear masks in public while it continued to ban Muslims from wearing face coverings. Last year, the French Senate voted to add an amendment

to an anti-separatism bill that would ban women under 18 from wearing a hijab in public. And this past January, the Senate proposed a ban on wearing hijab in sports competitions. France is not the only country to limit hijabwearing. Québec passed Bill 21 in 2019, which prohibited public servants such as teachers, police officers, and lawyers from wearing religious items such as hijabs, crosses, turbans, and yarmulkes during work. Although officials argue that the ban on head coverings aims to promote women’s equality, secular tradition, and diversity, the restrictive laws are counterproductive because they discard the rights of Muslim women, attempt to assimilate religious practices, and could create ethnoreligious division. The ban strips away the liberal aspect of liberal democracy: rights of the minority must be protected regardless of the rule of the majority. In the case of the hijab ban, the rights of Muslim women are neither sanctioned nor respected by the law. Uncovering the double standard for head coverings The double standard of head coverings is not new. When Kim Kardashian wore a burqa-like fullbody cover to the Met Gala, she was not denounced as an extremist but described as “new” and “inventive.” When Olivia Rodrigo posted a picture wearing a balaclava, people adored the photo and left comments calling her “queen.” Audrey Hepburn, who extensively wore headscarves that covered her hair and neck in daily

life, was praised for her beauty and was seen as a “timeless style icon.” When it’s in the name of fashion, it’s celebrated; when it’s in the name of religion, it’s frowned upon. When Black people wear hoodies, they expose themselves as police targets due to the garment’s stereotypical signalling of gang-related activity in Black communities. Hence, the hoodie has become an active device for racial profiling and searching for criminality, especially in the United States. When Muslim women wear head coverings, they face discrimination at work, encounter verbal and physical abuse, and are seen as oppressed. When European celebrities wear head coverings, they are seen as fashion icons. When Black men wear head coverings, they are identified as criminals. When Muslim women wear head coverings, they are treated as terrorists. It is ridiculous that the balaclava is considered trendy and forward but the hijab is considered oppressive and backward. The hijab can be oppressive only when it is enforced on anyone, like it is for many in the Middle East where women are still fighting for the choice to not wear one. Nevertheless, it is proudly worn by many in North America as a symbol of empowerment. In democracies, people have the right to wear what they want — either to cover up or show parts of their body in public — because they have the freedom of choice. Balaclavas, babushkas, hijabs, and hoodies are all head coverings. Regardless of whether people wear head coverings religiously or stylishly, those garments should be viewed

YOON-JI KWEON/THEVARSITY

equally under the law. I am by no means denouncing people who wear the balaclava, nor am I stating that it is cultural appropriation to wear one. By all means, wear it with pride. What I am saying is this: when you are wearing a balaclava, understand that it’s a privilege to wear one freely without the fear of discrimination, brutality, or punishment, as many people in the world are judged, abused, and penalized for doing the same thing. Although laws are made by governments, they are enforced through popular opinion. Hopefully, as a result of the balaclava trend, people can change the double standard about head coverings in Western society. Stephanie Shih is a first-year social sciences student at Woodsworth College.


thevarsity.ca/section/comment

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

9

Should Scott’s degree be rescinded? Reflecting on whether fixing past wrongs will bring about Indigenous empowerment

ANDREA ZHAO/THEVARSITY

Shernise Mohammed-Ali & Milena Pappalardo Associate Comment Editor & Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article describes current and historical injustices committed against Indigenous peoples. Students and advocates have recently started a petition calling for U of T to publicly rescind the honorary doctorate degree the university had awarded to writer Duncan Campbell Scott in 1922. The petitioners claimed that by giving the degree to Scott, U of T has bolstered his reputation despite the harm he had done to Indigenous peoples in his position as deputy superintendent at the Department of Indian Affairs. Two contributors reflect on whether righting past wrongs and rescinding the degree would empower the Indigenous community and actually lead to tangible change. Condemnation can move us closer to reconciliation Duncan Campbell Scott is a historical figure best

known for his integral role in enforcing the residential school policy and thus perpetuating an inherently racist and oppressive system. His position as the deputy superintendent at the Department of Indian Affairs led to the expansion of the residential school system in Canada. Scott’s writings, including Treaty 9, were also particularly influential in the cultural genocide of Indigenous peoples. Scott was more than just a product of a racist society. At the time, awareness of the cruel conditions within residential schools was already spreading, but Scott chose to further expand the residential school system nonetheless. Ultimately, Scott’s enduring legacy is a testament to the impact of settler colonialism on Indigenous communities. This prompts the question — why would U of T have awarded Scott an honorary degree given his deplorable actions against Indigenous peoples? Furthermore, why would U of T have let him keep that honour, considering the lasting impact of his legacy on Indigenous communities? The truth is that honoring Scott’s legacy only further hinders our attempts to move toward

reconciliation. Keeping his honours not only condones his actions, but it also supports a colonial past built upon a legacy of racism, oppression, and, ultimately, genocide. Rescinding Scott’s honours — and the honours of those with legacies like Scott’s — is a critical first step in moving toward a more inclusive society. It may seem like a superficial action of no real consequence, but the reality is that continuing to remain ignorant of our history makes us complicit in perpetuating the racist ideals of our past. Dismantling the legacy of figures such as Scott marks a significant step forward in dismantling the racist constructs that remain deeply embedded in our society because of these figures. Holding Scott accountable for his actions and acknowledging their lasting impact allows us to critically examine where we have gone wrong as a society and how we can do better in the future. Although there is nothing that can be done to bring back the Indigenous children who died in residential schools, there is something that can be done about the cruel lasting impact of legacies like Scott’s. Condemning Scott and his extreme discriminatory views can allow us to move one step closer toward reconciliation. Shernise Mohammed-Ali is a third-year neuroscience, psychology, and English student at Victoria College. She is an associate comment editor at The Varsity. Changing the past won’t fix the future Duncan Campbell Scott was not a good person. An anti-Indigenous residential school advocate like Scott should never have been awarded an honorary degree in the first place, especially given that there was already public outcry over the conditions at residential schools at the time it was awarded. This much is not up for debate. But while there is nothing inherently wrong with rescinding the honorary degree, we must reflect on our society’s obsession with symbolic acts such as these — rescinding degrees, renaming streets, and removing names — and whether they are truly productive. It is not the names or degrees of our unethical

forefathers that carry on their legacy; their legacy lives on in the disproportionately high Indigenous mortality rate, health disparities for Indigenous peoples, and the lack of Indigenous peoples in Canadian leadership. Scott has been dead since 1947, while Indigenous peoples today are living in abhorrent conditions on reserves with no clean water. Scott has been dead since 1947, while living, breathing Indigenous peoples have consistently higher rates of suicide than nonIndigenous people. How will exacting revenge on a dead racist person heal these current injustices? Although they may feel therapeutic, token acts like rescinding Scott’s degree will do nothing to erase the present legacy of Scott’s wrongdoings. Only future-oriented action can propel society forward. Furthermore, would rescinding the honorary degree actually serve to absolve the university of its complicity or its bad record? The petition calling for the rescindment writes, “Scott’s honorary degree [confirms] Canadian racist mythologies that legitimate colonialism while ignoring the horrific cost to Indigenous peoples. One hundred years later, it is time to correct the record.” History cannot be truly corrected — especially historical atrocities and wrongdoings. Trying to “correct the record” allows U of T to wipe its hands of its mistakes. The fact that Scott was awarded the degree serves as a testament to the university’s racist past. We should let U of T live with that fact. Whenever I hear about symbolic acts of reconciliation, a quote that’s often attributed to African American activist Malcolm X always comes to mind: “The white man will try to satisfy us with symbolic victories rather than economic equity and real justice.” Malcolm’s quote makes us reflect on how activists today play into these “symbolic victories.” Instead of spending time and energy revising history, let’s spend time and energy on creating better social and economic outcomes for Indigenous peoples across Canada. Milena Pappalardo is a first-year social sciences student at Trinity College.

Women can’t win: The sexualization of professionalism Women in professional settings are hypersexualized

SIT VAR

HE

U/T YG Y

For women, this is not the case. There is not a single outfit made for women that can fit every ‘professional’ situation. The only standard for determining the professionalism of a woman’s outfit should be whether it hinders their ability to do their job effectively. SinceCarter’s team won the game in which she was wearing her ‘inappropriate’ outfit, it is safe to say that it in no way affected her job performance. Additionally, there are many elements of daily life — in professional environments in particular — that are considered completely normal for men, but that have been hypersexualized for women. Pursuing certain careers like nursing or teaching, wearing glasses — which serve no other purpose than to correct vision — and wearing a required uniform to school can put women in a position where they are scrutinized by men, limiting the areas of everyday life where women are liberated from the curse of being perceived. The hypersexualization of intrinsically nonsexual aspects of women’s lives projects the notion that their worth is derived from presenting themselves as sexual, since this is the kind of behaviour that garners men’s attention. In a society where men’s attention is treated as currency — since they control promotions and societal status in the corporate capitalist world — women are forced to put their bodies on display and submit to a sexualized version of themselves to appease men and, essentially, survive.

ND

As meaningful interactions begin between children and the adults in their lives, boys are socialized into the patriarchy. As a result, many men become complicit and even willing participants in it, developing attitudes of entitlement toward women’s bodies. Girls, on the other hand, are slowly stripped of their humanity in increasing waves of severity as they reach womanhood. They are worn down by systems of oppression and consumed by the patriarchal system until just bone remains. This objectification of women creates a gendered dynamic in which men perceive women as sources of gratification and as assets to accumulate and mold into extensions of themselves. Hence, women are erased as people in their own right. Hypersexualization — the attribution of a sexual identity to something or someone not inherently sexual, such as women in professional settings — is a tactic weaponized by men to suppress women’s humanity, thereby hindering women from prospering in workforces where men thrive. Sydney Carter — a former basketball player who is now a coach for the Texas A&M women’s basketball team — posted a series of photos to Twitter of her outfit for the 22nd game of the season, as she does after every game she coaches. Carter was dressed in a pair of appropriately fitting pink leather pants accompanied

by a white turtleneck sweater and heels. However, despite the fact that the majority of her skin was completely covered — a widely accepted yet flawed definition of what modesty entails — some men decided to respond by spewing nonsensical and incoherent complaints, whining into the void about something they would likely never criticize on a man coach: her attire. One user replied to the photo demanding, “Why would [she] dress in pants that tight to coach?” This perfectly exemplifies the entitlement that men feel toward the bodies of women, speaking with the fervor of someone who fears that the elasticity of Carter’s pants is going to have a significant impact on his lifespan. Another user went so far as to respond to a supportive response by writing, “She dressed like she’s hitting the bar. I guess she prefers to look good rather than be good seeing her team’s record.” Looking past the fact that Carter actually improved her team’s record with a victory that day, the absurdity of the situation reflects the extent to which men feel like they have a monopoly on women’s actions. The world is designed for men. Cars are crash tested using dummies that have the weight of an average man, temperatures in offices are set to what the average man would find comfortable, and the standard for men’s professional work attire is a suit, which comes in a variety of sizes, colours, and patterns, available in a plethora of stores.

WE

Paden Neundorf Varsity Contributor

Therefore, the criticism placed on Carter by men is representative of the faults in their socialization and upbringing and has nothing to do with the outfit or Carter herself. Despite the fact that Carter’s team were victorious that day, women still can’t seem to win. Paden Neundorf is a third-year English and critical equities studies student at Woodsworth College.


10

THE VARSITY

FEATURES

How stereotypes almost made me change who I am Mekhi Quarshie Associate Sports Editor

“Say it, say it, say it!” The chants were coming from my classmates. It was one of those long bus rides home after school. My friend had a speaker and was pretending he was hosting a mini-party. He started playing a classic Jay Z & Kanye West song. As the bass boomed through the bus, my friend seemed like he knew every line. About halfway through a profanity-laden verse, he paused the song and held the phone out to me like it was a microphone, begging me to finish the line. “C’mon Mekhi, who’s in Paris? Who is in Paris, bro?” He was urging me to say a word that I did not feel comfortable saying. It was a word that different people had different feelings about, but I was intent to never say it. I was conflicted between the desire to please my friend and my own personal values. I felt my classmates’ eyes on me as they stared in anticipation. Sweating, anxious, and unsure of what to do, I started to wonder how on earth I got to this level of insecurity in the first place. For a lot of my life, I didn’t think about the effects that the way I look had on the people around me. I didn’t think that the cashier was following me around the store because of how I looked or that I kept getting picked first for the pickup basketball game because of the colour of my skin. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Obviously, I knew what the colour of my skin was. I knew that my Mom was from Jamaica and that my Dad was from Ghana. I knew that I had a multifaceted identity that often boiled down into one word. I just didn’t think about how that had an effect on the people around me. I wasn’t sure if it was my heightened consciousness or the transition of moving to Canada for high school, but as soon as I turned 17, it all hit me in one fell swoop. “You dress like a white boy.” “Do you rap? Freestyle for us!” “You’re the whitest Black person I’ve ever met.” When I came to U of T, I thought that I would escape such comments. But they followed me like a nagging headache. “I’m surprised, you’re very well spoken.” “Why am I not interested in you? I don’t know… you’re just not Black enough.” The people who said these things to me ranged from professors, to love interests, to my closest friends, to complete strangers. Regardless of who was saying what, they all had the same effect: they made me wonder if I was really Black. Over time, the words took their toll. Every now and then, I’d look down at my hands, just to make sure, and laugh at myself for even trying. I started wondering how I was getting shunned by people that looked just like me. Eventually, I knew that they weren’t talking about the colour of my skin — it was something more nuanced. People could obviously see that I was visibly Black, but they were saying that I didn’t act the part. You see, Blackness isn’t just skin deep. Blackness is a political statement, a declaration of your style, a music preference, and the way you speak. Blackness is the cautiousness that you carry with you when you walk in certain

Don’t judge a book by its cover, and don’t judge a person by their colour


features@thevarsity.ca

neighbourhoods. Blackness is the people you hang out with. It’s a malleable concept that changes based on what people believe it is at any certain time. However, often people will associate Blackness with a single set of characteristics, affiliations, and interests. I started to wonder if people really knew the effect of their preconceived notions, no matter their race, class, or creed.

search Group showed that only one in every three African Americans feel that they are accurately represented in the media. There are a plethora of different experiences for the other 66 per cent. Some would argue that there is such a thing as a ‘positive stereotype’ — but while some stereotypes may be positive in terms of diction, they could still have negative effects on certain groups. A common one is the stereotype that the Asian community is good at math. While at first glance, this may seem like a positive stereotype, I have had friends tell me that it has resulted in heightened academic expectations for them, which were, in turn, quite pressuring. Another common ‘positive’ stereotype would be the belief that Black individuals have great natural athletic ability. The only problem with both of these notions is that they disregard those of us who aren’t good at sports or academics. If you don’t align perfectly with the stereotype, you find yourself ostracized by people who look just like you. It’s a painful experience. It’s also important to think about how most stereotypes are rooted in some form of truth. The prevalence of Black athletes in national sports leagues like the NFL and the NBA might have led to the athletic stereotype. The performance of Asian individuals in standardized tests may have resulted in the intelligent stereotype. The prob-

The origin of stereotypes Communications professors Brian L. Ott and Robert L. Mack describe stereotypes as “constructing misleading and reductionist representations of a minority racial group.” They deem the media to be a key way in which stereotypes are disseminated. Movies like Friday and Boyz n the Hood align Black people with gun violence and street gangs. Songs like “Bad And Boujee” by Migos, featuring Lil Uzi Vert, and “Mask Off” by Future glorify drug use and the objectification of women. Mind you, I do love both of those movies, and I used to get excited when “Bad And Boujee” played on the radio — but I know how to separate the media I’m ingesting from the real world. The problem is that many people don’t know how to do this, and I’m reminded of that every time people ask me if I wear a durag or sag my pants. While I’m sure that some people associate themselves with the depictions of people who look like them in the media, a study from the National Re-

EA

DR

AN

Blackness isn’t just skin deep. Blackness is a political statement, a declaration of your style, a music preference, and the way you speak.

lem is, when people think that every single member of these groups have these characteristics, it becomes a constant game of catch-up for those who don’t. The bigger picture I was sitting in history class one day when my teacher referenced Stockholm syndrome. Named after a bank robbery in Stockholm, Sweden in 1974, the term describes the strange phenomenon wherein hostages develop feelings of affection for their captor. Usually, these feelings are caused by a significant amount of time spent between the victim and the captor. In my experience, the effect of stereotypes on individual people can be directly related to Stockholm syndrome. Grappling with the intricacies of my identity almost felt like I was wrapped in ideological chains that had been weighing me down for so long that I actually considered giving up resisting entirely. It got to the point where I didn’t think that I was capable of achieving things if I hadn’t seen someone who looked like me achieve them. I was left with two options: be true to myself, even if it meant not relating to other people, or change who I was just to fit in. Why was the situation so dire? Because in every conversation, hangout, or weekend with my friends, I could tell that they wanted me to be the type of Black person that they saw on TV. But I quickly realized that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to act like the person that everyone wanted me to, and it was all because of my upbringing. Four years after I was born, my father got a job opportunity, and my tiny feet that had just touched Canadian soil were whisked off of it as our family moved to India. It was there that I spent 10 years of my childhood, and it was there that I made my earliest memories. I bounced back and forth between local schools until I finally ended up at an international school where I met a bunch of disorientated third-culture kids just like myself. While I lived in a place that was geographically disconnected from the Western world, my social world was inundated with it. I would watch Jimmy Fallon Lip Sync Battle videos during my spare time, and when Drake released “Hotline Bling,” all of my friends and I huddled around a table to watch his dance moves. However, I wasn’t around people that looked like me or that were from the same place as me. It was obvious that I did not have the same cultural experiences as many Black Canadians that I’d later be around all the time. I was like a square peg trying to squeeze into a round hole — with every attempt, the fit just seemed more futile. With no other option, I chose to live my life the best way I could: unapologetically being myself. That meant being the only Black person at some debate tournaments and wearing converse to school because I thought they were more comfortable than Jordans. As I did this, I started to realize the dangerous effect of stereotypes on the people that they are created to work against.

ZH TY

SI

AR EV

TH

/ AO

The conclusion For those of you who may have felt a bit guilty reading this: try to be a bit more open-minded with your preconceptions. Individuals have many different experiences that make each of us unique. While I might have many things in common with my racialized friends, we are in no way one and the same. For those of you who are on the receiving end of negative stereotypes, fight against them. Prove that they aren’t true by defying them with every fibre of your being. Know that there is someone else out there like you too. Even though I was not this knowledgeable on that bus back in high school, I had enough self-respect to stay true to who I was. Refusing to let language define me, I declined to say the word, pushed the phone away, and opened my lunch box to scavenge for leftovers. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last time I had to deal with that specific situation. I continue to struggle with my identity to this day, and I wish the solution were always as easy as pushing a phone away. It’s hard to see yourself a certain way when the people around you see something different. In order for me to escape my prior demons, I had to surround myself with good people and become more confident. It’s been a journey. At the end of the day, many of the inequalities we see in life — racism, microaggressions, and stereotypes — can be connected to one thing: a lack of empathy. If we, as humans, could truly understand what it is like to undergo the situations others are facing, it would cause an emotional reckoning that would make conversations a lot easier. So the next time you see yourself holding a stereotype against any group of people, make an effort to put yourself in their shoes. At the end of the day, we all know who is in Paris. In fact, Jay Z or Kanye would probably have no trouble telling you exactly who is in Paris. But we don’t all say that word, we don’t all walk a certain way, and we don’t all talk a certain way. The sooner everyone understands that, the better off we will all be.


Arts & Culture

February 21, 2022 thevarsity.ca/section/arts-and-culture arts@thevarsity.ca

The internet capitalizes from mocking Black women — and we’re letting it Internet users need to consider whether the humiliation of Black women was ever funny Vanessa Mabelle Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article describes racism and misogyny, and mentions sexual violence. When I was 17, I attended a ‘girls’ night’ at a close friend’s house. At the time, I was in a big friendship group — there were 13 of us. During the night, we bantered with boys we were friends with in a group chat. This is when we decided it would be funny to make a song about how one of the guys was short. So I recorded the video, and the rest of the — white — girls sang. We thought the boys would find the video hilarious, since its topic was a harmless joke within our group. However, they responded with their own video: they first appeared squashed up together, before one of them switched off the light so they were in complete darkness. They shouted, “Where’s Vanessa gone? Where has she gone?” All the while, there was a small but distinctive monkey noise being made in the back. This was targeting me. The girl who was not in the video. The only Black person in our friendship group. I was targeted because there was a song made about a boy being short. When the other girls confronted them about how uncomfortable and disgusting the joke was, one of the boys was offended that I was offended. He repeatedly shouted that I needed to “relax” since they were copying a “funny joke that is used on Vine.” While they did not capitalize from making this humiliating and awful joke directed at me, they took inspiration from social media creators who did. They found it justifiable to attack me with it. It demonstrated the effects of social influencers and creators using their platform to find fame in predominantly white audiences through racial comedy. My story is an example of an experience endured by many Black girls and young women. This tiring reality — the humiliation of Black women — is one that is felt in differing aspects of society, from the effects of institutional misogyny and lack of state support for lower-income individuals to Black women’s personal experiences being mocked. I’m not trying to proclaim that Vine and other social platforms are the direct cause for humiliation of Black women. Rather, it’s important to demonstrate how the normalized culture of making racial comedy skits supports the biases which lead to accepting the mistreatment of Black women. In the beginning, there was Vine The free social media application, Vine, was Humiliating Black women extends from institutional misogyny to personal experiences. COURTESY OF LIANNE VIAUCC/CC FLICKR

launched in 2012. It was a platform where users could upload video clips of up to six seconds. The time constraint to entertain audiences meant potential creators had to adopt ‘minimalist’ approaches during production, primarily by eliminating less important elements. However, in Vine: Redefining Racial Stereotyping in Six Seconds, Jason Tham perfectly sums up the fundamental issue that comes with this formula: “Racist or stereotypical jokes may be perceived out of context… [leaving] viewers to their own interpretations of the message and purpose… [or] convey an inaccurate message regarding certain representations of an ethnicity and thus misinform the viewers about that particular race.” With only a minuscule amount of time to capture viewers’ attention, creators banked on relatable and humorous content. However, in attempts to create ‘relatable’ humour, it was common to go on the app’s ‘Trending’ page and see hashtags such as #blackpeople and #whitepeople. These popular racial comedy skits would overexaggerate stereotypes associated with these groups, and often reaffirmed the idea that white culture is civilized and Black culture is dangerous. What is very interesting about these videos is that many of them were made by Black creators. Black men creators such as @BlameItOnKway and @YungPoppy relied upon their ‘ratchet’ Black women caricatures — styled with bright, overdrawn lips, big fake lashes that were falling off slightly, and overly long acrylic nails — to launch them into newfound fame. These videos are problematic because when white audiences see Black creators making fun of Black women, it’s easier to deem these jokes to be harmless, edgy humour. I’m not going to pretend that I never found these videos entertaining. They provided an opportunity to come together with strangers in the Black community to bond over our culture. Despite not being American, I found the content relatable because I could relate the portrayals to Black people in my life. That being said, the app started to see a greater attraction from white audiences who were seeking this type of content. It was easier to dismiss the problematic nature of how these videos reinforced stereotypes about the Black community, since it was usually Black men making them and white viewers therefore supposed that the videos could not be regarded as racism. To white audiences, it might not be obvious that Black men were still disrespecting women of their own race.

Humiliating Black women to capitalize on their image Dating back to the Jim Crow era, American society relied upon a variety of mediums to dehumanize the Black woman, whether through the ‘Aunt Jemima’ trope, the ‘Jezebel’ narrative, or comparing depictions of Black women to apes. These historical representations have unfortunately continued to shape Black femininity. Janet Burns, in an article titled “Black Women Are Besieged on Social Media, and White Apathy Damns Us All,” demonstrates how these tools have become empowering “legions of dedicated and ‘everyday’ racists” who attack Black women with “all the fresh hell and tired tropes they can muster.” In reinventing the humiliation of Black women through shortform videos, we can see an embracement of this defeminization of the demographic. By embracing the historical conceptions of Black women, these videos recycle cheap jokes to please the predominately white masses. As Tee Noir highlights in her YouTube video titled “The Market of Humiliating Black Women”: “For these jokes to still be… recycled for [new] generations… demonstrates the true desire to disrespect and embarrass Black women in the name of comedy.” Ultimately, what all these examples have in common is that they recognize that the cheap and smart way to stir up controversy and to bring in a new audience is to degrade Black women. As a follow up to this issue, some question the ideals of comedy; surely, we should be able to laugh at everything, right? Surely, comedy shouldn’t have limits about who and what it makes fun of? The issue with this point is that when a recycled ‘joke’ about Black women is passed down, it comes to a point where society becomes conditioned to believe that the jokes are true. When Black girls are premeditatedly judged on their presumed characteristics — before they get a chance to demonstrate their real characteristics — it sets them up for failure. They cannot explore their femininity or their interests independently and peacefully. Instead, they’re expected to fit into dehumanizing narratives. This subsequently follows them to adulthood as their desirability becomes a question of disgust and mockery. This is why in their podcast Fresh and Fit, men podcasters Walter Weekes and Myron Gaines felt the need to attack the idea of attraction for Black women. Gaines proclaimed, “Me and Fresh aren’t down with the browns like that… me and Fresh don’t dabble in the dark, if you know what I mean.” It would be easy to ignore this ignorant comment. But when you’re continuously faced with

the normalization of humiliating Black women, it’s hard to enjoy your skin and body. We’re still loved — right? What I have written so far is about how many content creators who start their platforms online would not get near the traction they currently have without capitalizing on Black women’s humiliation. And yet popular fast fashion brands such as Fashion Nova and Pretty Little Thing feature models whose bodies conform to stereotypes about the body type of Black women — hips, slim waist, big butt — but are non-Black. In either direction, Black women will always be exploited. Recently, an interesting TikTok trend has flipped the trend of portraying Black women negatively for the sake of comedy. Specifically, I’m referring to non-Black men creating videos that profess their admiration toward Black women. While I’m happy that these men find Black women attractive, I question why they would proclaim this preference but not voice their opinions about racial injustice, which directly affects Black women. This trend presents the narrative that an attraction to Black women is a rare commodity for which creators should be guaranteed a prize. While it may appear normal for different ethnic groups to announce their preferences online, the stakes are different when society has historically gone out of its way to strip Black women of their desirability. The conditioning that Black women are seen as unwanted by everyone in society, including Black men, feeds into the insecurities of Black women. It hurts knowing that many young Black girls, including myself, have fed into these performative videos as male creators capitalize from them. This false appreciation contributes further to the dehumanization of Black people by creating a false sense of protection for Black women. Where do we go from here? Comedy is a unique medium that has connected people, primarily by providing an opportunity to escape reality and laugh at the world we live in. But when the butt of the joke is Black women — and when the demographic isn’t allowed to raise their concerns — comedy trickles into our conditioned perspectives. Stereotypes that stem from mockery do more than harm the mental health of Black women — they contribute toward treating them as ‘less than.’ For example, Black girls are more likely to be perceived by school administrators as ‘disruptive’ or ‘loud’ compared with other groups, and are more likely to be punished for ‘defiance.’ More than 40 per cent of Black women experience physical violence from a partner, and they experience a higher rate of sexual violence than other groups. What needs to be done to better protect Black women and to punish creators that capitalize off harms to them? As internet users, we need to recognize these trends, start having discussions about the type of media we consume and demand, and consider whether the humiliation of Black women was ever funny to begin with.


thevarsity.ca/section/arts-and-culture

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

Reflections of a Black girl from Kingston, Ontario In a city that lacked diversity, Stephanie Gyimah Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article describes instances of racism and racial slurs. I grew up in Kingston, Ontario — a community that, in 2016, was 74.4 per cent European. I was usually one of three visibly minoritized people in my class throughout elementary school and high school. Most times, I was the only Black girl. In this city that lacked diversity, race and racism were rarely addressed in the classroom. I presume that this was partially because teachers feared upsetting sensitive white parents, some of whom were hell-bent on the idea that racism is a myth. One of the rare times we talked about racism at school was when we read the novel To Kill a Mockingbird. To Kill a Mockingbird is written by Harper Lee, a Caucasian woman who grew up in Alabama. Although it is based loosely on Lee’s childhood experiences, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel capitalizes on Black trauma. It also pushes a white saviour narrative — a white person wanting to help a Black person in a self-serving way — through the main character of Atticus, a white lawyer who attempts to defend the Black character Tom Robinson. In my opinion, this literature was very fitting for my white Catholic school. While my class read this book, non-Black

students were given a pass to say the n-word in class without repercussions. Teachers would say, “If you are uncomfortable with this word, you should be” — as if using it was a way of learning for students. Most of these students joked about the word after class; the only ones left uncomfortable were their Black peers, who had already experienced the violence of this word firsthand.

So, at the expense of our security and comfort, we were forced to teach our peers about racism and anti-Blackness. This anecdote perfectly encapsulates my experience in a predominantly white setting. Kingston itself is a geographically beautiful city located on the coast of Lake Ontario. It’s also a historical landmark — it was home to Sir John A. Macdonald, Canada’s first prime minister, and was named the first capital of Canada in 1841. However, the uniqueness of Kingston should not distract us from the ugliness within the city — specifically the anti-Black epidemic that has been present for years and that continues to run rampant.

racism was often normalized I lived in Kingston for 18 years. I can recall countless racist experiences, and I know many other people of colour who share stories similar to mine. By the time high school began, I couldn’t walk

down hallways without hearing a racial slur. I couldn’t go to history class without hearing jokes about slavery. The teachers would remain silent, and people who claimed to be my acquaintances would refuse to advocate for me. This was an alienating and disheartening time. After witnessing the complacency of my peers, I learned to lower my expectations about how people should treat me. I also began to recognize that I was the only person who could advocate for me. It got to the point where, at the beginning of every school year, I counted how many days were left until summer vacation. It was never because I hated school — I loved it. My family had always valued education, and those values still resonate

A reflection on being Black and neurodivergent We must address intersectional neurodiversity Aïssatou Barry Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article discusses racism, ableism, and addiction. I was diagnosed with ADHD two days after my 20th birthday. During this time, I reflected on some of my self-sabotaging behaviours, such as losing items and struggling to get started on tasks. Frankly, it felt exhausting to not be able to sustain focus when doing pretty much anything. After months of wondering why I operated the way I did, my diagnosis felt like a “ha-ha” moment — I realized that I wasn’t inherently

Writer Aïssatou Barry was diagnosed with ADHD when she was 20 years old. COURTESY OF AISSATOU BARRY/THEVARSITY

lazy, unmotivated, or scattered. I was simply neurodivergent. Gen Z and millennials are starting to pay more attention to the intersectionality between gender, race, and class. But how often do we think about the intersection between race and neurodiversity? In the past few years, the topics of neurodiversity and race have been taken more seriously. Interestingly, they share a crucial quality: permanence. As a Black woman with ADHD, I cannot cure my neurodiversity, nor can I shake my Blackness. My racial identity and my neurodivergence permeate all areas of my life — whether I like it or not. Although I got diagnosed at a relatively late age — on average, according to the CDC, most ADHD diagnoses happen around age seven — I am happy to have been diagnosed at all. Many fellow Black people do not get diagnosed and thus, associate their symptoms with their personality. A 2013 study by the University of Pennsylvania showed that Black children are 69 per cent less likely to get an ADHD diagnosis than their white counterparts. The same goes for other conditions such as autism, for which Black children are 19 per cent less likely to be diagnosed than white children. It’s also prevalent in dyslexia, whose intersectionality with race is almost nonexistent in research. But who can we blame for this blatant disparity? To start, we can point fingers at the systemic barriers that make psychoeducational assessments, diagnoses, and treatments less accessible to Black individuals. It’s no secret that Black people are often more economically vulnerable than the average Canadian. Third-generation Black Canadians bring in an average income of about $32,000, in comparison to the

$48,000 that any other Canadian who is not a visible minority would take home, on average. Thus, paying approximately $200 for a session of cognitive behavioural therapy is not affordable to most Black households and individuals. This unequal access to health care is a crucial factor in the inequalities between Black and white individuals when it comes to dealing with neurodiversity — or even becoming aware of it. In addition, media representations of neurodiversity are offensive, romanticized, or nonexistent. By that, I mean that visual culture has yet to offer realistic portrayals of neurodiversity by hiring actual neurodivergent actors. In 2020, musician Sia experienced backlash for her directorial debut, Music. She cast dancer Maddie Ziegler — who previously danced in six of the singer’s music videos — as the main character, who is an autistic teenager. During casting, Sia knew that Ziegler was not autistic. Her explanation for her choice of actress was summarized by a statement she gave on an Australian talk show: “I mean, it is ableism, I guess, as well — but it’s actually nepotism, because I can’t do a project without her.” Even these offensive representations are overwhelmingly white and perpetually overlook Black people with autism. Writers and producers not only fail to deliver accurate representations of neurodiversity, but fail to bring diverse and inclusive ones altogether. Some of the most popular media representation I’ve seen of Black neurodiversity goes back to the 1980s, a period that was dubbed the “crack epidemic” in the United States. “Crack babies” was a term given to individuals — oftentimes, Black individuals — who were exposed to crack cocaine in the womb due to their mother’s addiction. Doctors determined that prenatal cocaine exposure would result in developmental issues

with me today. Instead, I counted down the days because I couldn’t handle the environment. It was insufferable being gaslit by my peers about my emotions. It was insufferable speaking to my school’s principal about racism, knowing that he would make promises to me that he had no intention of staying true to. By my last year in high school, I had reached an unprecedented level of exhaustion. My mother, as a first-generation immigrant, had found different ways to cope with racism. She believed that I had to ignore it and focus on myself. She said that I was talented and bright; “You don’t have to worry about what’s going on with them because you have a future ahead of you,” she claimed. I admired her optimism, but I don’t think I will be apathetic about how people perceive me. I don’t believe this is a character flaw of mine, either. Because of my experiences, I’ve developed stronger self-advocacy skills. Though it felt like no change was being made, I’d like to hope that, by being one of the few people who critiqued its normalized racism, I made a dent in my school. I hope I challenged at least one of my peers or teachers to think critically about race. I hope that, going forward, my school will protect vulnerable communities. And I hope that inevitably, this progress will get to a point where Black youth are not traumatized in the name of a white child’s growth and development. and cognitive-behavioural issues such as ADHD. Hence, neurodiversity was seen as a repercussion of addiction. This perpetuated the stereotype of Black neurodiversity being the result of a dysfunctional family unit rather than a mere neurological disposition. But neurodiversity does not come with only burdens. In reality, neurodiversity does not have to be synonymous with malfunction. Many would argue that neurodiversity is maladaptive because our society is built for neurotypical people. But the definition of neurodiversity simply explains a difference of cognitive-behavioural tendencies. In addition, being neurodivergent is often associated with having an enhanced imagination. As a consequence, neurodivergent communities worldwide use social media platforms to share creative tips to help tame their symptoms. The spaces they create are inspired by the success of prominent figures with mental conditions, including renowned scientists who were believed to be autistic, such as Henry Cavendish. Even Leonardo Da Vinci, a painter who is arguably the epitome of innovation and creativity, was allegedly bad at finishing tasks — a common symptom of ADHD. The above examples notably share two traits: they are white and men. This further proves the lack of Black representation in conversations surrounding mental health conditions; the symbols of neurodivergent success oftentimes remain white men. Don’t get me wrong — Elon Musk’s creative thinking is groundbreaking, to say the least. But I am yearning for representations of Black innovators in all fields — believe me, they do exist, and they are everywhere. For example, few people know that Solange, a Grammy-winning musician, has ADHD. Needless to say, being neurodivergent and Black means being at one hell of an intersection. But, as a society, our responsibility is to create conversations that empower these attributes. To dismantle systemic racism and ableism, we cannot shy away from talking about race and neurodiversity. After all, change often starts with words.


14

THE VARSITY

arts@thevarsity.ca

ARTS & CULTURE

Reimagining Black history This month, don’t just consume information, but find new ways of learning Marwa Hussien Varsity Contributor

I want to begin this piece by stating that Black history is under constant attack. In my experience, that is especially potent here in the Great White North. Historians have commented on the state of Black history in Canada as a “collective silence” that hides a history of slavery. Historian Afua Cooper has further declared that this silence contributes to an “erasure of Blackness [itself].” Cooper is expressing that the systemic and historic injustices inflicted upon Black communities in Canada are consistently underrepresented and concealed, which remains a source of deep pain within our communities. This silence has numerous effects, which are all harmful and work in tandem to further disenfranchise Black communities. But despite the national silence on the history of Black Canadians, many of us are intimately aware of the most traumatizing aspects of international Black history. The miserable truth is that many of us are unfamiliar with any understanding of Black history outside of simply agony and anguish. This largely has to do with the frequency in which the most traumatizing acts of racial violence and oppression are thrust upon us throughout our lives. These ideas are further strengthened by our own experiences, which we have had to learn to survive. We live in a world with an insatiable hunger for the images and narratives of Black trauma. It is unavoidable. However, Black history is so much more than simply brutality. Celebrating Blackness in all its forms is groundbreaking, radical, and beautiful. On that note, I have

recently come to a very belated realization about this wonderful month we call February. That this is a time when, in both Canada and the United States, people are talking about, thinking about, and exploring Black history and culture. There are conversations happening, Black stories being told, and Black histories being brought back to life — all at this very moment. This fact might be obvious, but to me it is mind-blowing. At this moment, members of our community are diving into and centering stories of Black life — not simply stories of survival, but of resistance. The vibrancy, dynamism, intellect, and joy of Blackness being brought back to the fore is incredible to watch. Within the maintenance of Black culture, its creation of identity and community, and its outright refusal to be exploited, Black power is everywhere and

Celebrating Blackness in all its forms is groundbreaking, radical, and beautiful. COURTESY OF FAZLUR REHMAN MALIK

Revisiting Moonlight Barry Jenkins’ Academy Award-winning film explores masculinity, addiction, and love Jodi Roberston Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article references substance addiction. Who you gonna be? Conquering the question of who we are is one of the many parts of the universal human condition. While lots of films have focused on telling about this journey to one’s true identity, none have brilliantly captured the humanistic quality of a story so heartfelt and intimately provoking as Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight. This 2016 Academy Award-winning film departs from the conventional coming-of-age genre and overrides clichés used to represent Black people in film. Moonlight is Jenkins’ adaptation of Terelle Alvin McCraney’s autobiographical play, “In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue.” It’s a story about its protagonist, Chiron, struggling with the ideals of masculinity in 1980s Miami. It is a film that is equally about the complexities that define us and how they go ignored underneath society’s simplified and harmful labels, as it is a story specific to its gay Black protagonist and his journey to find himself. Moonlight’s plot is separated into three parts — ‘Little,’ ‘Chiron,’ and ‘Black’ — named after personas of the protagonist’s childhood to adolescence. Between each layer of the story, we come to understand Chiron by watching his interaction with his surroundings. Moonlight’s approach to capturing Chiron’s

that is what we need to understand and truly feel this month. However, celebrating Black history takes some unlearning, relearning, and effort. There are special qualities of Black history you are required to take with you. Just as the Black community is wonderfully diverse, so is Black history; your options are limitless. When learning, you simply need to ask yourself: what excites you? My advice is to follow that feeling and see where it goes. I promise that you will not be disappointed — it’s impossible. You can quote me on that. I would also like to propose a slight change in the way you may choose to celebrate Black History Month. This month — and hopefully other Black History Months in our future — should be a push for us to acquire the resources and knowledge that we need to apply to our everyday lives for the rest of the year. This can be accomplished by looking for resources centred around Black experience, learning about ideas or concepts that will alter the way you live, or simply rediscovering a community to love and care for. But rather than simply trying

conflict of understanding his place in the world is brilliantly expressed by the way the character is played by three separate actors. By symbolizing the personality change that occurs throughout Chiron’s coming-of-age in this way, Moonlight explores the naturalistic aspect that people may feel like an entirely different person at different parts of their life. The first act, Little, begins during Chiron’s primitive years. The act is named after the nickname that the bullies from Chiron’s school gave to him. This nickname haunts Chiron; throughout the film, he attempts to replace it in order to feel secure. Near the beginning of the film, in a scene captured by a shaky handheld camera, Little is shown running away from a group of bullies and finds himself locked in an abandoned, boarded-up house. He is found by Juan, an old, cool-looking drug dealer. Juan takes Little out to eat and then brings him home to his girlfriend, Teresa. The lightness and fluidity of the following scenes with Little, Juan, and Teresa express a sense of love that contrasts with Little’s feeling of emptiness once he is taken back home to be with his mother, who has a substance use disorder. The theme of family dynamics plays out in the film more thoroughly as Chiron attempts to take care of his mom, while also only receiving love and acceptance from his father figure, Juan, who is also his mother’s drug dealer. In the film’s second act, its story jumps

to Chiron being enrolled in high school. He grapples with intense bullying and his mother’s substance use disorder, which is affecting their lives even more than before. Chiron struggles to find himself and feels like there is no hope in his life aside from the kindness and comfort of his only friend, Kevin. That comfort is quickly lost when Kevin is peer pressured to inflict violence against Chiron to fit in with others at their school. In the film’s last act, Chiron has transformed into adulthood. He has also created an outer shell named ‘Black.’ Living far away from his past, Black submits to the idea of masculinity. When Kevin calls Chiron to meet him again, Black must confront the past he set out to destroy. However, he soon discovers that the nurturing part of himself is a genuinely true part of his character. Chiron’s love for his friend Kevin and his capacity to forgive his mother plays out beautifully in this last part of the film. Between each pivotal chapter of Chiron’s story, audiences step into the world of Moonlight, which is framed by cinematographer James Laxton to depict Chiron’s inner feelings. By expressing Chiron’s feelings, Jenkins allows us to understand the protagonist’s true character; one that cannot be completely categorized or explained. Moonlight taps into Chiron’s discomfort about

to consume as much information as we can — though it’s very difficult not to do so, given the richness of this month — I encourage you to find something to latch onto. Find something to live by. Find something to breathe. What learning will sustain you? By this, I don’t just mean information — I mean the experience of finding this information. How will you learn to be familiar with the proof of Black power and resilience? I would never want to be an abstractionist, so I’ll give you an example of the way I am attempting to structure the Black History Months of my future. I’ll start with what I’m interested in; at the moment, it’s Afrofuturism, an aesthetic and philosophy that combines African diaspora culture with technology. I am passionate about the themes of love and hope — from what I know, Afrofuturism can be a beautiful blend of all things that are unique to our community. But what’s next for me? I will try to learn on my own, attend any Black History Month seminars that are available, and gather resources I come across over the course of this month. I will not rush. Whatever information I don’t get to learn this month, I can continue throughout the year because I prepared for it. Black History Month is the shortest month of the year. But, if we play it right, we can extend its knowledge far beyond the bounds of the 28 or 29 days that we’ve been given. In preparation for the rest of the year, let’s reevaluate what values are important to us as individuals and as part of a heterogeneous community. Let us build the connections we did not know we needed and lean on them for the rest of our lives. Let us start to build the foundation required to live as though we are already rooted in the knowledge of our collective and individual power. I have no doubt that the journey to that will be like no other, and I have no doubt that we will all be much better off for it. With that, I urge you to live fully in the beautiful year ahead of you. And, of course, have a happy Black History Month. the unspoken characteristics that lay underneath society’s expectations of us. Between each layer of Chiron’s story, we recognize that his journey isn’t to understand who he is; rather, it’s to be accepted for who he is. James Laxton captures Miami, Moonlight’s main setting, in a beautiful, dreamlike sense — which heavily opposes the raw and naturalistic depiction of the largely impoverished area that Chiron resides in. Laxton also edited Moonlight using heavy contrast to define and enrich the dark complexions of the men of the film’s cast. The emphasis on the complexions through a contrast effect fosters Chiron’s growth from Little to Black because, throughout the film, he is surrounded by unapologetically Black men. Additionally, the film’s mobile tracking shots also allow its audience to feel as if they are participating in each of the film’s scenes. For instance, when Juan is teaching Chiron how to swim, the camera is submerged in and out of the water, following the natural motions of the waves. The abandonment of clear panelled shots to capture every aspect of the action allows the film to be more naturalistic. When the camera is framed from the perspective of Chiron, it helps us understand that the audience is watching the story from Chiron’s point of view. This connection is important in the film because it enables us to understand the simplest actions and facial expressions of the characters. It takes the simple handshake between Chiron and Kevin from a gesture that means ‘bye’ to something intimate and romantic. Ultimately, Moonlight is a brilliantly captivating film that everyone should watch. Its exploration of deep and intimate themes — from identity to masculinity, addiction, and love — are represented beautifully in this story about a boy’s journey to find himself.


thevarsity.ca/section/arts-and-culture

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

How Angola’s goth scene grew to a worldwide movement The once underground community gained traction from social media Lusayo Simwaka Varsity Contributor

Over the years, Africa has been home to its fair share of subculture movements. Whether you’re talking about the Heavy Metal Cowboys of Botswana, the psychedelic tunes of 1970s Zambian rock, or the log drums of South African amapiano, the continent has been home to diverse and thriving local underground music scenes. However, what makes Angola’s goth scene stand out is its inspiration. Instead of being influenced by local musicians like the movements above, ‘gothic’ music acts were inspired by international artists, such as the 1980s European post-punk bands Alien Sex Fiend, Sisters of Mercy, and The Cure. However, the origins of Angola’s darkwave scene remain unknown. Singer Adilson Lusitano stressed that while there may have been goths in Angola in earlier decades, they were more reserved. It was only after 2000 that people started feeling comfortable enough to organize meet ups. However, Angola’s gothic scene soon

continued to grow thanks to the rise of the internet. Streaming and online music-sharing tools helped Angolans discover more bands outside of the well-known ones from the 1980s postpunk scene. Additionally, social media platforms, such as Facebook, let listeners discuss and share interests without facing judgment in their group of friends. In Angola, the most popular music genres are semba, kuduro, kizomba, and rap. Any music that falls outside of these categories is often considered ‘alternative,’ and is therefore looked down on. However, the stigma surrounding gothic subculture is different. Even in places where identifying as goth is considered more mainstream — such as in the United Kingdom — there are negative stereotypes associated with its music and aesthetic. Whether they’re seemingly harmless ones — such as consistently dressing in black and having a gloomy personality — or more stigmatized ones, such as being associated with the occult — being perceived as goth has

MI

LE

been a source of ostracization for many people worldwide. This norm is no different in Angola. While I haven’t found any reports of physical violence against people for being perceived as goth, it’s evident that they still face prejudice. For instance, gossiping and insults are a common reaction to goths because they are associated with witchcraft and other occult practices in Angola — even though the majority do not believe in it. In November 2016, there was a major positive shift. The Media Library of Luanda invited members of the goth scene to discuss its subcultures from their perspective. The discussion was called “All you need to know about goth culture, myths, and truths.” The event’s organizers invited Marcelino Kambuale, Franklin Lopes, and Kenned de Almeida, all of whom are active figures in Angola’s gothic scene, to answer questions. Kenned’s appearance is arguably most notable, since they’re a photographer, and they’re responsible for a large number of the pictures of Angolan goths that can be found online. The event also clarified various misconceptions. The guests clarified that anyone could be goth — in their view, identifying as goth was not about the music one listened to or how one dressed, but rather one’s introspective nature. They were drawn to dressing in black because it represented the beauty of mystery. They NA

PA P

PA L

Lauren Alexander News Editor

Have you ever thought about your dream home? Have you ever thought about how it would look in miniature? That’s precisely what the new CBC competition show Best in Miniature is meant to showcase. The show brings together a group of artists who create miniatures — miniature versions of real life objects — and compete to create their dream home at one twelfth of its real size. The show is hosted by Canadian comedian Aba Amuquandoh, a U of T alum and a former member of the UC Follies, the University College theatre and sketch comedy group. The Varsity talked with Amuquandoh via Zoom to discuss how she got involved in the project and her experiences on set. Before hosting Best in Miniature, Amuquandoh was a rising star in the Canadian comedy scene. She worked with Toronto-based sketch comedy group The Sketchersons and on other CBC projects like FreeUp!, a yearly Emancipation Day special, and CBC’s This Hour Has 22 Minutes, a sketch comedy show that satirizes current events. Before these endeavours, she graduated from U of T with a major in drama and minors in African studies and women and gender studies. A few months before filming, Amuquandoh got a direct message on Instagram that invited her to the show’s casting. In addition, there were comments on her photos telling her to check her direct messages. At first, Amuquandoh didn’t believe that the

AR

DO

/T

HE

VA R

SI

TY

U of T alum Aba Amuquandoh hosts Best in Miniature Amuquandoh discusses how she got involved in the project, experiences on set messages were real. “I was like, okay, I’m being spammed. Like, this is fake, this is not real… my Nigerian senses are tingling, this is a scam for sure. But when I answered the DM, it was a

viewed cemeteries as calming places because they gave people an opportunity to reflect and process their thoughts. While the guests reaffirmed the fact that there was no specific philosophy attached to being goth, they suggested that if there were one, it would be about respect. In some cases, we can see this respect practiced in the way that online Angolan goth spaces have grown. In person, monthly goth meet ups mostly take place in Viana and Cacuaco; online, followers of Angola’s goth scene are able to communicate from anywhere. One of the largest Angolan gothic spaces is the Facebook page Subcultura Gotica Em Angola, where information about most of the community’s events are posted. It is also where people in the Portuguese-speaking sphere educate each other about the history of post-punk music, compliment each other’s outfits, and encourage each other’s creativity. Whether they connect through in-person events or online communities, the do-it-yourself nature of goth subcultures has made them powerful spaces for nurturing creativity. Goth folk in Angola use these resources to share information with one another, discuss new bands, and talk to new people. These small actions don’t only show support — they also reassure other community members that there is nothing wrong with being goth, regardless of where you’re from.

real casting call,” said Amuquandoh. Before hosting Best in Miniature, Amuquandoh didn’t know much about miniatures. However, she did often watch videos of people

creating them. “I’ve always kind of used it as a self-soothing type of thing,” she said. “Like, I come home from work and watch the videos.” “I really like watching a mini waffle being made — like, mini fried food,” she added. Needless to say, working on the show exposed Amuquandoh to the world of miniature creation, which is a niche art form with a cult following. Amuquandoh compared the show to The Great British Bake Off, describing it as sweet, but also highly competitive. She found it particularly interesting to hear how some of the contestants got into creating miniatures, and took any opportunity to ask more about their love for miniatures. “It’s entertaining to watch [them] being built, but it’s another world altogether, hearing why someone likes doing miniatures,” she said. “I think people just like to make replicas of things that remind us of our fondest memories or things that encapsulate our hopes for the future,” she added. “You know, I was saying the other day, no one can afford to buy a house. So why wouldn’t we be obsessed with miniature houses?” Amuquandoh also shared a few fond memories from the set, including an instance in which she was taking a closer look at a contestant’s creation and accidentally broke off a window. “[The contestant] just looked at me like, ‘Are you serious right now?’ I felt so bad. And I did not touch anything else for the rest of the competition.” She added, “In my defence, I barely touched it.” The first episode of Best in Miniature aired on February 11.


Science

February 21, 2022 thevarsity.ca/section/science science@thevarsity.ca

Four science books you should read for Black History Month Titles to educate you year-round Tahmeed Shafiq Managing Editor

Content warning: This article mentions sexual assault. We get it: it can be hard to find time to read when midterms are coming up. Especially when you’re in a STEM program, it can feel like there’s always so much to read about your subject that you don’t have time for anything else. But that doesn’t need to put limits on your Black History Month reading list — no matter your field, you can probably find plenty of excellent subject-specific reading material by Black authors and about the experiences of Black people in science, both as scientists and as people affected by our understanding of it. And if you don’t know where to start, we’ve got you covered. Here are The Varsity’s recommendations for four books that you should add to your reading list — not just during Black History Month, but anytime in the year. Chanda Prescod-Weinstein’s The Disordered Cosmos Theoretical physicist Chanda Prescod-Weinstein’s wide-ranging book The Disordered Cosmos was one of the hottest science books of last year, making best-of-year lists from Kirkus Reviews, Smithsonian Magazine, and Publisher’s Weekly, just to name a few. In it, the author blends together physics and identity as she talks about her research into subatomic particles, her identity as a queer agender Black woman, and her relationship to the Jewish faith. Its strength is in how it refuses to leave anything out. It’s a fantastic constellation of what intersectionality should look like. Nowhere is this clearer than when Prescod-Weinstein talks about identity and justice: she talks about barriers for

Black scientists in physics, being queer in a world of binaries, the way society treats survivors of sexual assault, and what it means to be both Black and Jewish. Since her memoir was published, PrescodWeinstein has experienced a meteoric rise in fame, with interviews and profiles in major press outlets. We can be sure to see more of her in the future. Ruha Benjamin’s Race After Technology: Abolitionist Tools for the New Jim Code The Princeton academic Ruha Benjamin established herself as a powerful thinker in critical technology studies in her 2019 book Race after Technology: Abolitionist tools for the New Jim Code. In the tightly packed but still readable 200 pages, Benjamin exposes the ways in which technology can uphold and even enhance systemic racism; from algorithms used by police to predict crimes that target Black people to facial recognition technologies that fail to recognize Black faces. Her focus is not just on racism but on racist design, and she presents a forceful argument for its widespread presence and societal harm. Drawing parallels between her own work and that of prison abolitionists, Benjamin argues that we need a more democratic and transparent process for how we design new technologies — and that racialized people need to have a seat at the table as we do so. Harriet A. Washington’s Medical Apartheid and A Terrible Thing to Waste Harriet A. Washington is a bioethicist with a truly prodigious list of accomplishments. She has published in a score of important scientific journals and held various research and teaching positions at top-tier universities, namely

Columbia University and Harvard University. She also writes incisive popular science books that have enthralled audiences and critics alike. In 2007, she won the National Book Critics Circle Award for her book, Medical Apartheid, which traced the history of scientific racism in medical research. From infamous medical experiments of the past like the Tuskegee experiments, a study infamous for how poorly the Black subjects were treated, to lesser-known contemporary cases of ambiguous consent, Washington brings the mistreatment of Black people by science right up to the present day. Washington provides plenty of modern examples, like the case of Norplant, an experimental contraceptive that was selectively marketed to Black teenage women in Baltimore in the early ’90s. This astonishing feat of racist social engineering was highly controversial — but that didn’t stop lawmakers from encouraging its use for low-income women. In 2019, Washington revisited anti-Black racism in America from a different perspective in A Terrible Thing to Waste. This book is about how communities of colour in the United States have been exposed to toxic pollutants much more than white communities, impacting racial health disparities for decades. Here again, Washington goes beyond the familiar. She doesn’t stop at cases that have made the news, like the drinking water crisis in Flint, Michigan. She dredges up examples of corporate dumping, government negligence, and systemic neighbourhood deprivation that have filled the bodies of racialized people with heavy metals and chemicals known to affect brain function. And she makes it clear that white communities have it better; she highlights a 2008 paper showing that low-income white communities live in cleaner neighbourhoods than Black households that earn 50,000–60,000 USD. Put together, Washington’s books show how medical science has historically profited off of anti-Black racism, although contemporary research can also shed light on the health effects medical racism causes in Black communities. Add these four books to your reading list. CAROLINE BELLAMY/THEVARSITY

What does a roundworm remember? U of T researcher studies the neuroscience of memory using worms

Angel Hsieh Associate Science Editor

In humans, the act of forgetting may seem like it’s the same thing as clicking the ‘delete’ option on your computer. Luckily, most digital files aren’t really deleted forever, as computers often have backup features or ways to recover deleted items. As it turns out, memory in the brain may work the same way. A study co-led by a U of T researcher found that forgetting seems to involve a special nervous system state where memories can be reactivated, so it is not a total erasure of memories. In this article, The Varsity has broken down the basics of the study’s findings and their consequences for memory and forgetting. A novel state of nervous system functioning

Due to the structural and functional similarity of its nervous system to that of humans, researchers chose the roundworm Caenorhabditis elegans, a common model organism for research on the nervous system, to model the neurological mechanism of memory. The researchers first established an aversive memory — a memory of something the a worm would want to avoid — in C. elegans worms. They were trained over a span of four hours to become familiar with the odour of a diseasecausing bacteria called Pseudomonas aeruginosa. Immediately after the exposure, the worms avoided coming into contact with the bacterial odourants. They’d even travel a relatively long distance to avoid the unpleasant smell. However, the researchers found that an hour after exposure to the bacterial odour, the worms no longer appeared to remember their initial dislike of the scent. Reactivation of established memories The researchers then decided to investigate the possibility of reactivating the forgotten memories in the roundworms. After the designated one-hour window reserved for forgetting, the researchers attempted to remind the roundworms of their aversive memories by deliberately exposing them to the odorous bacteria for three minutes. After this brief exposure, C. el-

egans subjects exhibited significant effort to avoid the bacterial smell, when compared to worms that had ‘forgotten’ about their initial exposure to the bacteria. To confirm the change in the roundworms’ behaviour, researchers used another method to test the worms’ ability to reactivate the aversive behaviour. The researchers alternately exposed the worms to odourants from the original strain of bacteria and then to odourants from a separate, benign bacteria called OP50, five times. They tested one marker of these roundworms’ memory retention and found that it was significantly higher than in untrained control groups of worms. The study’s significance Scientists cannot test current hypotheses on the process of forgetting without first understanding these cognitive processes on a deep level. In this study, researchers manipulated the trained olfactory response of C. elegans to demonstrate the existence of a unique memory state of the nervous system that can be reactivated by environmental cues such as re-exposing the roundworms to odorous bacteria. This novel state of cognitive functioning prompts behaviour that’s fundamentally different from C. elegans who were never given aversive memories and ones that were regularly conditioned to remember the bacterial odour.

Although the roundworms that were not exposed to the bacteria and the roundworms that seem to forget about their former exposure resided in the same laboratory conditions, and were not regularly exposed to threats, the worms who were formerly exposed to the bacteria were able to easily relearn aversive memories that researchers had established. The discovery of this novel state of memory explains how trained animals can exhibit behaviours we might think they’ve forgotten, when they encounter conditions that are similar enough to reactivate their memories of past learning experiences.

Researchers chose the roundworm Caenorhabditis elegans for research on the nervous system. COURTESY OF HEITI PAVES/CC WIKIMEDIA


thevarsity.ca/section/science

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

How gender and sex play out in the brain Looking at differences in hormone levels, white matter Lindsey T. Thurston Varsity Contributor

There is an abundance of literature on the psychological differences between cisgender men and women. We all know the adage: “men are from Mars, women are from Venus.” The socalled ‘sex hormones’ estrogen and testosterone often take the blame — many people believe that behaviours in women are driven by estrogen and those in men by testosterone. In fact, everyone has both steroid hormones, which play an important role in how the brain functions. As a psychology and neuroscience PhD student, I probe the brain for relationships between these steroid hormones in different regions of the brain, particularly in the brain’s interior ‘white matter.’ The brain relies on white matter for communication between different regions of the brain and across hemispheres — similar to how the wiring of a computer sends signals between its different components. The major wires, or white matter ‘tracts,’ are made up of smaller, thinner wires called axons — the elongated parts of neurons that extend away from the main cell body. Each axon is coated with an insulating layer of a fatty substance called myelin. The speed at which a message is delivered can be determined by the amount of this axonal insulation and the axon’s diameter. Both estrogen and testosterone have been found to influence axons’ diameter and amount of myelin they contain. In 2015, a team of U of T neuroscientists hypothesized that the hormones might work in opposing directions,

with testosterone increasing axonal diameter and estrogen encouraging myelination. In fact, I initially became interested in white matter after reading a study about the differences in signal communication induced by these hormones. These differences can be attributed to both sex and gender. Some researchers call them ‘sex/gender differences,’ a composite term intended to recognize the human entanglement of biology and socialization

diameter and myelination caused by sex and gender are necessary to compensate for differences in brain size. The myelin and axonal diameter may work in tandem to ensure that signals are quick and efficient, no matter the size of your brain. Because estrogen influences myelination, it still serves a function in the brains of cisgender men, despite its reputation as the ‘female sex hormone.’ Testosterone and

JES SIC THE A LAM VAR / SIT Y

in sex and gender. One important question for this line of research is whether the concentration of steroid hormones influences a brain’s ability to send messages. For example, we know that the white matter properties that are necessary to send a message in a big brain are different from those required for a small brain, and we also know that cisgender men have larger brains, on average. So it is likely that differences in axonal

estrogen may play an important role here — in all brains. Importantly, white matter development is also experience-dependent, meaning its connections can strengthen or weaken as we learn or adapt to new environments. Our lived experiences influence how our brain is wired. Imagine how your everyday experiences have influenced your

science@thevarsity.ca

17

own white matter connections, and how these may differ from those of a friend or family member. For example, athletes have stronger white matter connections between the parts of their brain associated with their sport, as compared to non-athletes. Due to the entanglement of biological sex and gender socialization — that is, how one is raised based on their assigned sex — it’s important to consider all genders and identities when assessing brain differences. This makes research on gender in neuroscience complex but critical. The focus of my research is the association of white matter properties with steroid hormones and gender identity. To explore this, I analyze neuroimaging data of gender-diverse adolescents and adults. Neuroimaging allows me to visualize each individual’s white matter, and blood samples offer a measurement of their estrogen and testosterone levels. Hormone levels may differ across individuals and may change as a result of initiating genderaffirming hormone therapy. I then compare these differences in hormone content to differences in their white matter measurements. Gender-affirming hormones are synthetic steroid hormones used by many transgender and nonbinary folks as one aspect of their social transition. Understanding the role of different hormones, and whether they interact with sex/ gender differences in the brain’s white matter, can help individuals make informed decisions about their gender-affirming care and could help expand the access to gender-affirming care worldwide. My research began as a challenge to better understand behavioural differences between cisgender women and men, but has since grown to appreciate the brain’s diversity. Steroid hormones have an integral role in forming white matter connections — connections that adapt to the experience and needs of the individual.


Sports

February 21, 2022 thevarsity.ca/section/sports sports@thevarsity.ca

In conversation with U of T’s BIPOC Varsity Association The BVA executive team discusses the association’s projects and future plans Audrey Miatello Associate Sports Editor

The BIPOC Varsity Association (BVA) was founded at the University of Toronto in 2020, and since then, it has organized a number of programs and events for students and faculty at U of T. This week, the BVA’s executive team shared some of their goals and future projects with The Varsity. The BVA’s executive team consists of five individuals: Fiona Huang, Anesi Anyia, Jada Roach, Maya Ryan — all members of the Varsity Blues women’s track and field team — and Laura Valeria Rosales Vazquez, who is a part of the Varsity Blues women’s rowing team. There are also three BVA alumni relations team members — Mahal De La Durantaye, Avery Garrett-Patterson, and Sarah Kwajafa — and two staff advisory members, named Debra Kriger and Leila Trei. The BVA’s mission The BVA’s mission statement is built on five values: accountability, community, education, representation, and opportunity. The team explained in an email to The Varsity that the BVA was created by current and former

student athletes at U of T. As a group, they wrote a letter to the university’s athletic department. They wrote, “the University of Toronto needs to start being held accountable for the many racial injustices and the history of systemic racism that still takes place today at the institution.” The BVA has organized a number of presentations in the past in which they spoke to members of the university administration, such as the dean of kinesiology, or to other Varsity Blues athletes. In November 2020, it organized an online Table Talk with Tamara Tatham, the head coach of the Varsity Blues women’s basketball team. The website for the Table Talk explains that at the event, Tatham spoke about “what it was like navigating high performance university sports as a Black student athlete, professional player, and coaching staff.” The team is in the process of planning future events, as well, Later this February, they will deliver a presentation at the University of Toronto Schools to talk about the BVA and to discuss “what racism and microaggressions can look like.” Each month, the BVA also publishes a newsletter, which, according to the executive team, “includes updates on the BVAs work as well as events, opportunities, and news going on

within the BIPOC community.” This project was founded by Jada Roach, the BVA’s head of outreach and resources and a third-year student. The BVA was also involved in the creation of the Ontario University Athletics (OUA) Anti-Racism Project Report released in 2021. The OUA’s website explains that it undertook the project to spread awareness “about the demographics and experiences of student-athletes, coaches, and sport administrators across the [OUA].” The future of the BVA There are a number of projects that the BVA has planned for the future. The executive team wrote, “We have also been working with the University to begin mandatory Anti-Racism and Decolonization training for every varsity athlete and coach at the University of Toronto which will start in the summer of 2022.” The BVA’s new mentorship program will also commence at the end of February. This program, which offers opportunities to both firstyear and upper-year students, was created by Anesi Anyia, who is the head of education and mentorship at the BVA. “The first-year program allows first-year student-athletes to be mentored by upper-years in

From left to right, the BVA’s executive team: Jada Roach, Maya Ryan, Fiona Huang, Laura Valeria Rosales Vazquez, and Anesi Anyia. COURTESY OF VARSITY BLUES

Massage guns: The latest sports fad While they are a short-term cure, they have long-term effects Shreya Joshi Varsity Contributor

Over the last few years, the self-care industry has skyrocketed in popularity. A prime example of this is the rise of the massage gun: a piece of machinery with a handle, body, and extension that contains a soft end. Massage guns employ a technique known as vibration therapy, a practice in which a therapist places a vibrating object on certain parts of your body to relax your muscles. This technique is meant to offer a range of benefits including improved circulation, alleviated stress, and reduced joint and back pain. Research has shown that massage guns are effective in providing these benefits. Results from a 2020 study showed that vibration therapy had significant positive short-term effects on calf muscles. Massage guns can also effectively delay the onset of muscle soreness and generally improve short-term muscle health. If used after an intense workout, a massage gun can reduce muscle soreness and speed the recovery process.

On the other hand, massage guns are known to be able to cause further damage to already strained muscles and ligaments. Individuals who suffer heavily from severe sprains or inflammation should not use technology like massage guns, since these are natural responses to strenuous activity and do not require percussive therapy. Similarly, gym-goers with broken bones should never consider massage guns to be a quick fix. If used on injured body parts, they can cause further breakage and disrupt the healing process that a bone undergoes after fracture or breaking. The Varsity interviewed U of T students who are keen on fitness regimens to determine their general opinion on massage guns. In a message to The Varsity, U of T student Krupa Mistry said that massage guns feel really nice, and they think that the device does actually relieve muscle pain. “[They’re] kinda fun to use,” Mistry added. However, another student did not understand the massage gun’s popularity or its benefits. Jadha Waldron, a student studying forensic psychology,

wrote, “I never understood why ppl liked them… I feel like I can [get] the same sensation with my fist.” Unfortunately, the fitness industry often seems to be polluted with ineffective gimmicks. Many people like Waldron may believe that the device is ineffective because of the high amount of useless fitness tech available on the market, which ruins the reputation of such products. Overall, massage guns should only be used in the short term to ease muscle tension and soreness. While they have been proven to be effective in these areas, these devices will not aid in muscle growth or reaching your fitness goals at a large scale, and can even be a detriment for those suffering from serious injuries and conditions. A massage gun can reduce muscle soreness and speed the recovery process. COURTESY OF HS YOU/CC FLICKR

hopes to gain advice, knowledge, and support during their first year,” wrote the executive team. “Many know that [the] transition from high school to university can be very stressful and different for BIPOC individuals so creating that community of support is very important.” Similarly, the upper-year program pairs students with U of T alumni, who can offer support and advice as students prepare to finish university. The executive team also said that the BVA will soon launch a new t-shirt campaign, which will be available to both varsity athletes and members of the U of T community. “I can’t share too much about it right now, but we are really excited,” wrote a member of the executive team. “Keep an eye out on the Varsity Blues Instagram [and] you will see updates on the campaign fairly soon!” Looking to the future, the executive team wrote that the BVA plans to “focus more on creating a strategic approach to increasing the representation in all levels of varsity [sports].” “This is very important to us because we want Varsity to start to look more like the racialized groups we are trying to support,” the executives added.


thevarsity.ca/section/sports

FEBRUARY 21, 2022

Indescribable moments: The story of cricket Cricket has stolen the hearts of billions around the world

with — a symbol of triumph of the colonized over the colonizer, beating the English at their own game.

cricket’s rules were the introduction of One Day International (ODI) matches in 1971 and Twenty20 (T20) matches in

LD

YU

NG /TH

EV AR

SIT

Y

In 1983, cricket would undergo a revolution. Team India — underdogs at the time — secured the championship for the first time in history through pure skill and determination. It was a momentous occasion in cricket history, and India’s resounding victory brought billions of Indians to the sport as dedicated fans. Suddenly, cricketers became celebrities and the market and exposure of the sport grew exponentially. It was no longer a gentleman’s game, but a game of the people. The latest, most important innovations in

NO

There are some moments in this world that can never be wholly captured by words or pictures — they can only be truly known when they are experienced. In cricket, these moments are plentiful. The crack of the bat of a cricketer when it connects with the ball, sending it flying over the boundaries. The whisper of the ball as it slips out of the fingertips of the bowler, gliding toward the batter. That millisecond between the time that a fielder takes a catch and the audience erupts into cheers, a beat of silence as the world realizes with wide eyes and open mouths that a wicket has fallen. All of these moments, and more, only exist in the sport of cricket. Cricket has stolen the hearts of billions around the world — but it wasn’t always this way. The game was invented in England and it was first referenced as a sport in 1611. It gradually gained popularity throughout the country, and county teams started to be formed in the latter half of the 1600s. In 1744, the laws of cricket were officially formalized. These rules and regulations have seen many changes over the years, such as how many balls are allowed per over, the addition of free hits — a chance for the batter to hit without being called out — what specifications are required for cricket equipment, safety rules, and many more criteria. But it was only during England’s colonization during the 1700s that cricket started to emerge as a global sport. The West Indies, India, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa — regions that were the strongholds of British colonization — had the most exposure to the sport. Initially, it was thought of as a “gentleman’s game” — something only the rich aristocrats of the colonizers could excel at — but eventually, all of the colonies began to play and win cricket matches. When these colonies

became independent countries, they played not only against each other, but also against England. Though there was often discrimination and derision toward the non-white, non-Western teams, a lot of the attitude around cricket changed in 1975. It was the year of the first ever Cricket World Cup, and the West Indies team — who were considered the last possible contender for the title — brutalized the rest of the competition in an unforgettable, electric charge to the top, taking the championship. They defended this title four years later and established themselves as a force to be reckoned

AR

Madhurie Dhanrajh Varsity Contributor

19

2003. Both are shorter formats of cricket matches that see a lot more action than the typical fiveday test match. Since the inception of the ODI and the T20, many more fans are brought to the sport every day. What is it about cricket that never fails to capture people, both young and old? For the older generation, perhaps it’s the sport’s rich history. When they watch a game, they don’t just see a Test match on the grounds of the Gabba, where Australia is notorious for winning on their home soil. They see a chronicle of victories that have made Australians proud, the deep upsets from the West Indies’ glorious win in 1986, and India’s streak-breaking triumph in 2021. When they watch the players, they don’t just see Sachin Tendulkar’s straight drive into the boundaries, but also a hint of Sir Donald Bradman’s classic and calculating style. For the newer fans, perhaps what draws them back to the sport over and over again is the unpredictability and the excitement that it brings. Whether they enjoyed watching New Zealand tear through the ranks of previously unbeatable teams in the 2015 World Cup and then again in 2019, only to miss victory by the slightest of margins, or Australian Michael Hussey’s electrifying innings against Pakistan to steal the T20 in 2010 when all of the odds were against them, cricket never runs out of unforgettable moments, even in the most straightforward of matches. Cricket is a story of perseverance in the face of great adversity. It is a story about beating the odds over and over again and of staring defeat in the face and denying it. It is a story that repeats itself in every match, every tournament, every championship, and yet remains timeless. It is this story that draws fans back to the sport, over and over again. It is this story that evokes a special kind of connection between fans and cricketers that — dare I say — cannot be found elsewhere. It is this story that produces moments that are simply indescribable and that are intelligible only through experience. I hope that the possibility of such a story might entice you to turn on a cricket match, and that when you do, you’ll feel these indescribable moments too.

Rafael Nadal’s victory renews the men’s tennis rivalry Nadal’s victory at the Australian Open may shift the spotlight onto him Vikram Nijhawan Varsity Contributor

“I am very, very keenly aware of how short the life of a professional athlete is, and I cannot bear the thought of squandering an opportunity that might never come again. I know I won’t be happy when my career is over, and I want to make the best of it while it lasts.” The legendary tennis player Rafael Nadal wrote these words more than 10 years ago in his 2011 memoir titled Rafa — and yet they resonate more than ever after the recent Australian Open men’s final. Throughout his two-decade-long career, Nadal has faced more than his fair share of uncertainties, and the leadup to the Melbourne tournament this past January was no exception to that trend. Even for a player as successful and renowned in the sport as he is, victory felt like a long shot. Nadal, age 35, had just returned from a foot injury. His opponent was the much younger Daniil Medvedev, who was coming fresh off a win against another legendary player — Novak Djokovic, who was vying for his 21st Grand Slam. Nadal had only managed to win one previous Australian Open title back in 2009, and had faced a series of four finals defeats at the event over the following years. In this most recent victory, Nadal pulled off perhaps his greatest comeback ever, winning the match and surpassing his two longtime rivals, Djokovic and Roger Federer, as the men’s player with the most wins in Grand Slam tournaments.

For the past few years, 21 has been an elusive number for these three players. Federer came within a hair’s length of winning his ninth Wimbledon and 21st Grand Slam in 2019, but eventually lost to Djokovic in an epic, recordlength nail-biter of a final match. At the 2021 US Open final two years later, Djokovic failed to

When Djokovic was prohibited from competing in this year’s Australian Open because of the country’s pandemic protocols, Medvedev, who was seeded in top place, once again seemed poised to play spoiler for Nadal’s own mission to break records. The 2022 Australian Open final was, in many

TY

SI

SS

A IC

JE

T

M/

LA

R VA HE

leap over the same hurdle to achieve his own 21st victory, falling in straight sets to Medvedev.

ways, comparable to the 2019 Wimbledon final. Both matches featured at least one member

of the “Big Three” — Djokovic, Federer, and Nadal — who was aiming to win their 21st Grand Slam. Federer’s loss in that match was all the more heartbreaking for his fans, given how close he came to victory — and by most of the metrics, he should have won. The Swiss master outserved Djokovic, hit 40 more winners, faced fewer breakpoints, and won more total points. But Djokovic’s success during pivotal points in the tiebreaks ultimately secured him the match. Similarly, the post-match analytics for the 2022 Australian Open final between Medvedev and Nadal would favour Medvedev’s performance. At two sets to love, the numbers were not looking encouraging for Nadal. Overall, Medvedev served more than seven times as many aces — 23 to Nadal’s three — had a consistently better first-serve percentage, hit more winners — 76 to Nadal’s 69 — and made fewer unforced errors. But Nadal, living up to his reputation as a tenacious champion, proved that numbers alone do not win a match. In a characteristic move, he proved more effective at breaking his opponent’s serve, winning 32 per cent of his breakpoints. Although he’s famous for his heavy topspin forehands, Nadal adapted his game to fight past Medvedev’s stonewall defense and versatility. He consistently edged out the Russian with his impressive arsenal of skills, performing better than his opponent to clinch the match. The margin for error was wide in this final — yet Nadal prevailed. Now that he’s leading the men’s Grand Slam rivalry, 21 is the only number that matters in the history books.


20

THE VARSITY

DIVERSIONS

FEBRUARY 21, 2022


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.