SOME THOUGHTS ON THE CENTRE IN THE SQUARE

EXPOSING LIVED REALITIES IN KW

ANDRES FUENTES PHOTO

ERIN APPLEBEE CONTRIBUTOR

When Evangelynn Chee came to the Waterloo Region, she noticed two things different in regards to those experiencing homelessness and poverty compared to other cities where she had worked. These was a sense of community and awareness.

“Organizations themselves are reaching out to each other, they’re establishing connections with each other and within the community that’s experiencing poverty and homelessness,” she said.

“I think [Waterloo Region] doesn’t gain as much attention as Toronto or Hamilton. That is why if I can shed some light into the KitchenerThe Exposure Project is run by Evangelynn Chee and aims to share the lived realities of people experiences homelessness in the region with the rest of the community.

Waterloo Region, maybe we can get more resources,” Chee said.

Prior to starting her Master of Social Work and internship at Waterloo Region Community Legal Services, Chee already had the idea of the Exposure Project in her head. During her internship, she was able to bring it to life.

Chee started the Exposure Project, an online community platform for individuals who are experiencing poverty and homelessness to share their stories. Historically, these stories are not included in the media, and those that are included are not always true to the individual.

“I find that a lot of mainstream media tends to change the narrative according to what they feel will get more attention, but it is not necessarily what the individual wants to portray or doesn’t necessarily reflect who they are or the message they want to put out there,” Chee said.

Chee’s main focus for the Exposure Project is to raise awareness for the lived realities that people experience because of homelessness. She hopes to break down the stigma associated with people who have experienced homelessness and poverty through stories.

“You hear that a lot that people are just lazy, they just want handouts. We hear all of these things, but then when we realize what a person has gone through, the things that they have experienced and why they’re in a circumstance that they are, there is less blaming the individual, but holding the systems and policies accountable,” she said.

Not only do these stories shine a light on the stigma people experiencing homelessness face, they also showcase the systemic barriers in our community. Barriers like racism, discrimination, policing, criminalization of homelessness, lack of affordable housing and health care inequities which aggravate the housing crisis.

Chee said that the voice of the affected population is missing from the conversations on homelessness.

“Sometimes we don’t realize certain barriers that those folks might be experiencing. I think we try our best, and we have good intentions most of the time. But we might not be hitting the mark,” she said.

“What is missing is stakeholder participation, for involv[ing] the folks that are receiving the services and saying, ‘How can we serve you better? What are some ways that we can provide better accessibility?’” Chee said.

Chee hopes that The Exposure Project can be a place to provide education and understanding to others’ lived experiences.

Being able to create a new sense of understanding for those has already carried over in a more personal way to her work at the Waterloo Region Community Legal Services.

“I’ve heard feedback from lawyers, saying, ‘I did not know that this was that person’s story, and it kind of changed my perspective now that I’m working on their case,’” Chee said.

Although the goal of The Exposure Project has been about raising awareness, it is also tied closely to the experience of the participants.

Chee hopes that the community will approach The Exposure Project with open minds and open hearts.

For more information on The Exposure Project, visit @ TheExposureProjectKW on Instagram or wrcls.ca/theexposureproject.

THE UNDERDOG DANCE CORP. PERSERVERES

ADRIAN QUIJANO

EDITORIAL ASSISTANT

The Underdog Dance Corp., situated in the heart of Uptown Waterloo since September 2020, is an embodiment of the phrase, “dance from the heart”. Given the narrative of many small businesses struggling through the past two years, Underdog sticks out as a success.

Underdog is the only Latin dance studio for adults in the region. It features 1,000 square feet of dance space for both veterans and curious beginners to dance at their leisure.

“I have to say that I don’t feel like I run it solo because our instructors are the instructors that work at the studio. They all take so much ownership and initiative and so I’ve never really felt alone with it. I’ve been really, really lucky to feel like it’s a team effort there,” Emily Peat, owner of the Underdog Dance Corp., said.

The development and eventual opening of Underdog truly was a passion project. Peat started dancing in 2017 at 25 years old with the University of Waterloo Mambo Club. An instant passion for salsa and bachata grew. Where she lacked experience, she compensated with perseverance as she fell for the art more and more. Less than two years later she pursued her dream of dancing all day despite having a degree in Engineering.

By the end of 2018, she was teaching 17 classes per week and hosting monthly social dances. Now, Peat is Waterloo Region’s underdog dance instructor as she is an independent business owner with the least conventional dancing qualifications. The studio’s biggest challenge in the past few years has been managing their revenue stream amidst the constant lockdowns and changing COVID-19 Restrictions. In Peat’s original pitch to investors she was advised not to follow through with the idea because of her lack of business partner. And yet,Underdog stands.

“Lockdowns were really not able to generate [us any] revenue, but we still had all of the expenses of maintaining the studio,” Peat said. “So that’s been really, really difficult and it seemed like every time we opened and we just financially recovered, then we were hit with another one. And then just kind of trying to hold out hope through all of that.”

A loyal and tight-knit community has grown from the Underdog Dance Corp. despite all of the hardships. The studio has a wide variety of program offerings, from five week sessions to drop in classes. Some classes are also available for either in-person or online attendance. One of the studio’s goals is to celebrate dance in all of its forms, including athleticism and art. As a business owner Peat also makes sure the studio is an LGBTQ+ safe space so all people feel welcome to dance.

“[You have to ask yourself] what’s your intention or what do you want to get out of it? The other thing is that we talk often in class about how it [dancing] feels compared to how it looks. We’ve had people come in, day one, they don’t want to stand in front of the mirror and so they’re off in the back corner. And then week five, they like asking us to film, they just want to share their dancing and just makes you feel so good to see them,” Peat said.

As Underdog’s head instructor she and her team ensure that all folks who dance with them meet their movement goals. Regardless of skill level, dancers have a chance to build on what they already know while also picking up new techniques. Weekly events include bachata classes, chair dance, jazz funk and drop-in hip hop.

For more information, visit https:// underdogdance.com/.

ANNA WINGE-BREEN GRAPHIC

CENTRE IN THE SQUARE’S PERFORMATIVE SUPPORT

Jordan Peterson is scheduled to speak at Center in the Square in May of this year. In a confusing and somewhat ironic turn of events, Peterson’s talk will be followed by “Queen: It’s A Kinda Magic.” An event that is clearly geared towards a queer audience.

Despite much backlash from the local LGBT+ community, the Centre in the Square has decided to continue with Peterson’s presentation in the name of ‘hearing out all sides.’

“I understand that the past one-anda-half-years has been tough on you, and any booking is welcomed. But have you really considered this? If so, please remove the rainbow from your picture because it’s performative and nothing more,” Twitter user Nancy Wheeler said.

The Waterloo Region has been a breeding ground for similar circumstances in the past. In 2017, right-wing pundit/alt-right darling Lindsay Sheperd showed her class a video of Peterson opposing the use of gender-neutral pronouns in Canadian society.

Peterson has since become known for his vocal opposition to transgender human rights.

“This figure expounds pseudoscience, hate, bigotry, and misinformation,” Twitter user Michael Clark said.

In the graphic above, the “puppet master” is meant to reflect those who are responsible for the event (Center in the Square).

This highlights the performative aspect of hosting events meant to accomodate members of the LGBTQ+ community, while also providing a platform to someone who openly dehumanizes them.

THE HISTORY OF FASHION HAS A NEW HOME

STAFF WRITER RACHEL MACINTOSH UNSPOOLS THE FHM'S ORIGINS

After a pilot gallery in a former ironworks factory, Cambridge’s Fashion History Museum found its new home at the Old Hespeler Post Office.

The museum was established by founder, director and curator Jonathan Walford in 2004 and registered as a charity in 2009. Walford began his efforts by curating traveling exhibitions that toured across Canada and abroad, including a shoe exhibit in Hong Kong.

The museum currently houses over 12,000 pieces from over four centuries and a library archives research center that houses over 9,000 titles and pieces.

“[The mission is] about really promoting fashion history to the general public for an understanding of where we come from and being inspired for the future,” Kenn Norman, co-founder and chair of the Fashion History Museum, said.

When the City of Cambridge purchased the Old Post Office, the museum was able to expand into the full space. This change was helpful for the museum as it came at a time when COVID-19 safety regulations were in effect, and it allowed them to set up the museum for social distancing.

Use of the whole building also allowed the museum to create a gallery dedicated to two-dimensional objects. The same space is also used for events such as seminars and workshops.

Portraits of Mali is the current exhibition on display. It showcases the work of two photographers between 1949 and 1972, with portfolios sponsored by the Cartier Foundation.

“It was a great opportunity to share these with the public,” Norman said.

Another notable addition is an exhibit called Three Hundred Years of Fashion that showcases fashion from 1720 to 2020.

“[It showcases] the full evolution of 300 years of fashion,” Norman said.

“Everything from the materials that are available, to the technology to create fashion—retailing, manufacturing—and then just also to the change in how we interact with our clothes.”

Norman described the museum's inception by Walford as he worked at a living history site in Burnaby, BC. The idea to curate came to him after he was handed a collarless shirt as a part of his costuming for a 1920s village setting—similar to the Doon Pioneer Village here in town.

Upon receiving the shirt, Walford said he thought it was alright but he could do a better job of providing something more authentic to the time period.

“And that really inspired him into researching fashion history,” Norman said.

The collection has grown largely in part to the donations of other private collectors and vintage clothing dealers. For example, a vintage clothing dealer from Montreal recently donated the contents of her store to the museum after retirement.

“Collectors are amazing in this aspect, too, because usually they focus in on a very specialized area, and they get to know it inside out. And we’re able to tap into that passion and learn a lot ourselves,” Norman said.

“We actually purchased a shoe from 1660, which is one of only seven examples known in the world [and] that's one of my current pride and joys,” Norman said. “It’s in a navy blue velvet with silver embroidery on it and white leather, and it’s just fantastic to be able to handle something that old, particularly in Canada where we’re not used to seeing these things every day in our museums or in collections.”

In May, the Fashion History Museum will be hosting a Mother’s Day weekend event featuring local vendors and producers of wearable art.

“We’re tentatively planning for September,” Norman said. “We’re just beginning to pull it together now, the ‘Tweed Run’, which is a bicycle event that started off in England. And it’s based on wearing vintage while you cycle.”

For more information about The Fashion History Museum and upcoming events, visit fashionhistorymuseum.com.

THE STUDY ROOM PROVIDES A PLACE OF GOOD VIBES AND GROWTH FOR PUNKS

SHYENNE MACDONALD

CONTRIBUTOR

In the past two years, while the city has been locked away and festering inside itself, new life has been brought into KW and sunk its teeth into the underground scene.

Somewhere in the heart of KW is a basement. Like most basements it is made entirely of concrete and cold, with a steep stairwell that leading to it

The room is named The Study Room and is a popular venue in the local punk scene. Jake, Jackson, Nate and Ali are all proprietors of the space.

“There’s a really true, honest thing that’s happening here in the shadows.,” Jake said. “Ever since Nate and I have been buds, we’ve always wanted to run our own house show venue. In the early years, coming up [with places like The Study Room]…it’s something that’s really beautiful and intimate that can be found in those four walls,” Jake said.

“We all find each other very inspiring…Everyone brings positive energy to the table. It’s effortless,” Jackson said.

Ali, Jackson and Jake, being prolific artists apart, perform together in a band named Dead Friend Collective. Their Bandcamp page describes them as being inspired by misguided hatred, self-loathing and all the anxiety, despair and uncertainty that is born when people hit their mid-twenties.

Nate is the founder and head of No Funeral Records, he acts as a tastemaker for music in the region. The pandemic influenced his and other musicians’ decisions on how they created and shared music.

“I interned for a label back in 2017, then I moved on to my own thing. I’ve been booking and releasing little things here and there,” Nate said.

“I got to finish an album and put it out…Without the pandemic we probably wouldn’t have done that. We would have just kept playing shows, doing the same thing. I feel like it was an excuse for people to really [push themselves], record music and write new shit without focusing on performing so much,” he said.

The pandemic also prompted selfreflection and rediscovery. It gave many artists the chance to step out of their comfort zone and try new things, especially as the pressure of performing shows was removed. Without anyone to clap and sing along with them, the artists within The Study Room were forced to stop and look inward.

“Why am I doing it? Is it something that’s a creative outlet for myself, something that I want to do as a career? Do I just want to make music, like what exactly I want to do with it [became the question]. I know I was doing a lot of side projects and kind of fucking around with music a lot,” Ali said.

“We got to take our time with our recording process, it was like all the pressure was taken out and just enjoy what we’re doing. I think a lot of appreciation sunk…all the bullshit is out of the way, so you have to realize why you’re doing this,” Jake said.

But as the world begins to move forward again, the artists are coming out of the woodwork. So, The Study Room has become a place where a community gathers and some of KW’s finest come to show off what they created while everyone had to quarantine.

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone as passionate and genuine about art as people in this city, honestly. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else; it feels good to be in the heart of it,” Jackson said.

“There’s not a lot of artists here that aren’t in the grant circuit, I don’t think money gets thrown around here too much. So [the industry isn’t] watering it down, everyone is here because they want to be here,” Nate said.

Despite the emergence of artists ready to share and entertain again, The Study Room is one of the few house venues open to the circuit of bands rotating. Nate said he generally focuses on heavier music such as punk. As there are few artists outside the small circle of friends and many artists moved away since the pandemic began, he said it is difficult to find artists willing to perform or start bands.

All four proprietors work on growing the music scene through networking. =“I feel like we’ve been planting seeds, networking and just sinking our claws into the weird and important parts that make this work for the past six-ish years. We would be doing this, regardless—but the vibe we’re getting, the impact and the outreach we’ve been getting it’s because of the time we put in. It’s genuine work too, ” Jake said.

Having a house venue for people from all around to gather keeps the KW punk scene growing again and thriving. They also hosted an all-ages show featuring Crywank at Shortfinger.

“It’s nice to have control over what happens. With other venues we’re at the mercy of getting bookers or stuff we don’t necessarily align with,” Nate said.

“There is something happening here, and I like what we’re getting to contribute on our side because I think it’s pushing people that don’t know, in the right direction,” Jake said.

There is an element of cynicism in punk culture, a sentiment that has only grown with the pandemic. For Jake and Nate, however, there is still much positivity and passion in the local punk scene.

“It’s cynicism for sure, there’s a cynical output. But, from my experience, being involved with this scene, there’s a lot of genuine, positive and passionate people. I think it comes innate sense that the world is really dark, there’s a lot of fucked up stuff going on in the world right now. So, let’s combat it,” Jake said.

“You don’t have to subscribe to anybody else’s vision on how to live your life, you can choose that yourself. You choose to be morally sound, whatever that means to you… Go out and make your own noise,” Nate said.

THE ROLE OF REPRESENTATION IN GROWTH

QUEER SPACE

BEN STIMPSON

COLUMNIST

Fair representation in the media has been a hot topic for the past couple of decades, often argued as a fairness piece for representing our intersectional society. The sociological and even political importance for representation is often spoken about, but I fi nd a more crucial and less mentioned psychological aspect far more interesting. Our media is becoming rich with representations, and so now it’s time to refl ect on why that representation truly matters and how representation for representation’s sake isn’t good enough.

In a recent interview, I was asked about my personal identity journey and I spoke about the importance of representation to me. Part of why it took me so long to come out to myself was because I didn’t see anyone in the media or television who looked like me. When I did start to see fi gures who I could relate to, I found that my understanding of myself deepened. We all have our super heroes; characters from fi ctional stories and video games or real-life fi gures and community members become Representation in mainstream media is vital to developing a sense of belonging.

heroes to us for different reasons. These personal heroes give us many things: they allow us to see aspects of ourselves, give examples to aspire to and, through their stories, provide road maps for navigating our own lives.

In particular, two series have been instrumental to me understanding myself better: Avatar the Last Airbender (2005), and Steven Universe (2013). Within both of these worlds, I saw characters who grappled with similar struggles to those I was feeling inside. Both of these shows invited me to step into my own authenticity.

For me, when I started to see the very queer characters in Steven Universe, I saw suddenly intimacy, love, support and empowerment among this community of characters. I also saw something I had been craving since I was a child, which was normalcy of experience. The characters of Steven Universe taught me that I didn’t need to be anything other than who I am, and my normal is normal. This was a very different relationship I had with these characters than other gay and queer representations earlier in my life, such as Queer as Folk or Will & Grace.

The psychological mechanism here is called identifi cation, and it swings both ways. Have you ever come across someone you instantly hated/loved and realized later it was because you saw things in them that you were uncomfortable with or liked about yourself? Have you ever really admired someone and developed those traits in yourself? This is a very natural process of human psychology and something that we are actively doing on a regular basis. Part of this process allows us to synchronize with others through a function called social mimicry. Little babies are observed doing this all the time as they learn how to interact with the world around them. It is also true that as we age, we often tend to congregate with people who we perceive are like us. Marketers understand these processes deeply and are always conducting research on what different populations identify with and relate to, sometimes consciously and sometimes deeply unconsciously.

Unfortunately, the same mechanism of identifi cation that can create healthy insights in some can also create the potential for dark and unhealthy dynamics in others. The reality of toxic fandom is an example of this, whereby a change in a character in any way can spurn on vitriolic responses among some fans. The recent addition of a dwarf played by an actress of colour in the upcoming Lord of the Rings television series is an example of this. So many fandoms are having to deal with this sort of restrictive interpretation of the material, even wholesome shows like My Little Pony and Steven Universe.

Often, the problem is that an individual over-identifi es with a particular character or world and through over identifi cation, their self-esteem is tied to that material. Any changes or reinterpretations of that material by other fans is met with scorn because the individual perceives a personal attack on themself. In some cases, toxic fans might even feel a loss of self as the material changes and adapts. What often occurs then is what we would call externalization of deep insecurities onto others to regain a sense of power or control. It’s not a great situation, but it is an all too human one.

An exercise I often give clients is to think about their personal heroes. Who are they? What are their strengths? What obstacles have they overcome in their stories? What do they teach us about ourselves? Often the answers to these questions bring up a great deal of personal insight within the client.

I encourage readers, if they have a spare moment, to journal about what representations have had an impact on their lives and what characters have become important to them over time. As I age, I look back on material I grew up with and fi nd myself identifying more with other characters than the ones I did originally. Likewise, who are some of the characters or heroes out there now who could hold a key to your future self? Take careful note of which characters or individuals bring up a reaction inside and contemplate what about them you are reacting to.

MORS VERUM (2021)

H. TOOTH COLUMNIST

Mors Verum is old-school death metal worship at its fi nest. Their third offering, The Living (2021), is comprised of fi ve devastating tracks for fans of Gorguts and Immolation. Mors Verum pay homage to their exalted lineage by honouring their roots while leaving space for inventive composition. The three-piece band is sure to appease the most discriminating hordes with their coarse and unrelenting brand of death metal. Elite.

The Living (2021) begins with earthcrushing riffage akin to mid-era Immolation, pinching dissonance squeals over chugging, open notes to antagonize the structure of its own progression. Polyrhythmic percussion serves as the foundation upon which warring guitars attempt to assert dominance over jangling bass. This dynamic creates textural anomalies reminiscent of late Azagthothian compositions where opposing pitches compete to resonate over blazing tempos. Guitars squeal and lash over a steady double-pulse, bringing order to the chaos of rampant licks. Cyclical drums churn into oblivion as menacing notes rattle into the cacophony of blast beats and pointed bell-strikes.

Mors Verum lend a voice to doom and gloom—though its message is shrouded by the growl of an irked beast. Deep, commanding vocals urge through a human host as if to communicate a message from below. The line between harmonic dissonance and harmonious progeny is muddled by the clamor of plucked bass and menacing, minor-pentatonic licks. Mors Verum is hell-bent on demonstrating their reverence for the golden age of death metal, and they do so with a serious respect for the genre. Though, one might wonder: how the fuck they are going to play this live? KATARINA WEX GRAPHIC