The popularity of The Sims
With tens of thousands of downloads on Steam, why is The Sims so famous? What makes this life simulator special and so much better than reality itself?
The Sims is renowned for allowing its players to live a simulated life in a world where everything is up to the player’s imagination—from the character designs to the city layout to intergenerational plot lines. Four iterations of the videogame
Emma Catarino Staff Writer
exist: the first version celebrated 25 years on February 4; and the latest version, Sims 4, is available on Steam for free. But what makes The Sims so famous, and how is it different from real life?
The Sims is incredibly popular because it possesses two things that real life does not. 1) Anything is truly possible and 2) There are no consequences.
Sure, everybody from your mother to your kindergarten teacher has told you that anything is possible in life, but they were lying. In The Sims, you can have any job, house, and wardrobe you’d like, regardless of age, wealth, or education. In Canada, a mansion could cost you millions of dollars, not to mention property taxes or the permits you’d need for renovations. In The Sims, obtaining money isn’t an issue, unlike in real life, where capitalism forces us to work 40+ hour work weeks that pay most of us less than we deserve. In The Sims, there are cheat codes for that problem.
Ever get tired of only interacting with boring humans in your regular day-to-day life? Well in Sims, you can interact and
play as mermaids, werewolves, aliens, and more. Even Death, a shadow-faced, black cloak-wearing character carrying a scythe, can be interacted with and even mated with. Oddities like these, and the ever-popular cheat codes that many players use, make life in The Sims much more dramatic, interesting, and lavish than real life.
The Sims also brings out a sadistic side in a lot of players, as there are no realistic consequences for anything done in the game. While letting a child drown or stealing from a store could land you in jail in real life, in The Sims, you can do whatever you’d like. I’ve heard stories of players that purposefully kill children they didn’t mean to spawn, lock characters in a basement to work for a sweatshop, or even set houses on fire just to watch the Sims dance around in fear. I once locked a Sim in a room without doors just to watch their confusion, panic, and slow descent into starvation. Are these actions questionable at best? Yes. Am I proud of it? No, though it was a little funny.
All this to say, The Sims is a popular game because it allows players to live out a life, or even multiple lives across generations, that they would not otherwise get to experience. Players can make mistakes, live however they want, be rich, and have fun without any of the struggles or worries that come with real life. Though, in the end, while the game provides a safe space for experimentation, it also reveals how easily we can be drawn towards harmful behaviours when faced with no realworld consequences, blurring the lines between harmless fun and moral responsibility. Regardless, I wish the game a happy birthday.
Eagles struggle in last regular season against UTSG Blue
Pietro Arrigoni Staff Writer
UTM’s men’s and women’s soccer teams will look to turn things around heading into playoffs.
It’s been a year of high and lows for the University of Toronto Mississauga’s (UTM) soccer programs. The culminating moment of the outdoor season—which saw the Men’s team crowned champions for the first time in campus—is but a distant memory in the minds of the players and coaches amidst a woeful indoor season.
The Men’s side have not been able to replicate their dominating form from the fall. Falling short twice to both University of Toronto St. George (UTSG) Red and University of Toronto Scarborough (UTSC), the Eagles were only able to pick up points against UTSG Blue with a 3-0 win in the midseason fixture and a 1-1 tie to close the regular season.
Many factors have contributed to the Eagles’ poor run of form: a different style of play, the loss of key players, and perhaps a bit of complacency after the achievements of last season. It’s in the fate of every great team to encounter a drop in determination and drive after obtaining successes, and it’s in the desire of every opponent to shake the title defenders off their throne.
Despite everything, the Eagles will give their all in the playoff fixture against UTSG Reds in hopes of defending their champions status. The Reds, an opponent with significant quality and speed, have been the leading team throughout the indoor
season, and will look to capitalize against our UTM Eagles and book their tickets to the final.
However, nothing is written in stone. The boys will play for their pride and will make sure that if they are to go down it will not be without a fight. And as they say in my country, la palla è rotunda, or, the ball is round, meaning that it can go anywhere and in any way, and anything can happen in the beautiful game of football.
The Women’s team continued to struggle during indoor, ending the regular season with a 1-5-0 record. The young team has faced a batch of strong opponents, and despite their best efforts they have not been able to turn their season around after the fall.
Same as the Men’s side, they will also face UTSG Reds in playoffs, a team which has won every game of the indoor season and is in exceptional form.
While our women’s side has lost a series of key players since their back to back titles in the 2022 and 2023 outdoor seasons, the Eagles remain a team that
can be dangerous and put opponents under pressure.
The Eagles will need to bring their best game and desire to their playoff matches if they are to come away with a win. Both teams have been hurt this season, but licking their wounds and sulking over the results will do them no good. It is important that players channel their energy and their focus on this incredibly important set of games, which, if approached positively, may just be the pivoting moment of an otherwise disappointing season. The upshot is that neither of the teams have much to lose. Perhaps playing free of this pressure will let the Eagles express their best football, and bring home a much overdue win.
Photo provided by UTM Recreation, Athletics & Wellness
Illustration by Sehajleen Wander
SPORTS & HEALTH
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U of T hosts Entrepreneurship Week 2025
Celesta Maniatogianni Associate News Editor
U of T celebrates its vibrant start-up scene, through events including pitch competitions, workshops, panels, and more.
From March 3 to March 7, the University of Toronto (U of T) hosted its ninth annual tri-campus Entrepreneurship Week, a series of events to “showcase, celebrate, and reward innovation and startup activity,” according to U of T’s Defy Gravity page.
This year, 20 different events took place throughout the week, from panel discussions to competitions, alongside various opportunities to connect with startups, customers, investors, and resources for entrepreneurs.
U of T’s startup community has seen significant success in the past years, with C$12 billion in funding raised over the past five years and 17,000 jobs created through over 1,200 venture capital-backed startups, according to U of T News.
The week is designed to concentrate on the many “researchers, entrepreneurs, accelerators, investors, corporate partners and community organizations” which compose U of T’s startup ecosystem to shine a light on their innovations and offer a “front row seat to the people and startups that are quite literally changing our world,” according to Jon French, director of U of T Entrepreneurship, in a conversation with U of T News.
The competition featured 11 shortlisted startups, which ranged in focus from wearable tech to artificial intelligence to nano-armour, taking the stage to compete in either the early or late-stage prize categories based on their prior cumulative funding.
Winning teams in both categories also won a DELL Latitude laptop and access to Montreal’s StartupFest, while all winners obtained an ONRamp membership and up to C$5,000 worth of legal counsel from
pants, to celebrate creativity and “stand in support of women entrepreneurs at a competition that promises to break down barriers and reward great ideas from diverse voices,” according to Defy Gravity’s webpage.
On March 7, the Be Her Summit celebrated International Women’s Day and Black female entrepreneurship success through various exhibitions, speakers, and fireside chats.
Canadian law firm, Cassels.
A key event during the week was the True Blue Expo, which took place on March 6 at the Schwartz Reisman Innovation Campus. It allowed attendees to connect with over 40 of U of T’s top startups, which demoed their products and services.
More than a dozen U of T’s campus accelerators and numerous innovation ecosystem community partners were also in attendance, offering entrepreneurs access to investors, support, and services.
The expo was a part of the week’s True Blue Impact Day, a full-day event which included U of T’s Entrepreneurship’s annual business pitch competition, Desjardins Startup Prize Pitch Competition, which awarded C$100k in prizes to “recognize, reward, and accelerate” the most innovative startups at U of T.
Also scheduled on True Blue Impact Day was a panel discussion featuring U of T Professor and recent physics Nobel Prize Winner Geoffrey Hinton and Managing Partner & Co-Founder of Radical Ventures, Jordan Jacobs. The talk, which was postponed to an undefined date, was set to discuss artificial intelligence and the opportunities, challenges, and obligations which arise when using it in entrepreneurship.
The week also featured numerous events focused on female entrepreneurship.
On March 4, MedEssist CEO Joella Almeida participated in FemSTEM’s final winter Fireside Talk to reflect on her success and provide advice for entrepreneurs.
At U of T Mississauga (UTM) on March 6 in the Innovation Complex, ICUBE, UTM’s startup incubator, hosted its sixth annual Pitch With a Twist event, which featured women-identifying judges and partici-
Additionally, there were various panels and events about the mental health aspect of entrepreneurship.
The first of these events, Stress Management & Mental Wellness for Entrepreneurs, held on March 3, featured a panel discussion comprising business founders and keynote speaker Dr. Lauren Brown and focused on the importance of stress management for entrepreneurs.
Entrepreneurial Mindset: Mental Fitness for Startup Success, which took place on March 5, was a workshop centred on mental fitness and overcoming negative thoughts and emotions, such as uncertainty and stress.
Some of the other workshop and panel-based events of the week included a workshop on intellectual property in business; a panel discussion on the intersection between AI and musicians and other creative fields; and a panel for International Women’s Day, which discussed the significance of mentorship, diverse startups, and women supporting one another in business.
The week also catered to beginner entrepreneurs and presented students interested in startups, or those who have already begun a startup, with resources to support their potential or burgeoning entrepreneurship journeys.
The main event in this category was Launchpad: Campus Resources for U of T Startups, an “orientation to campus resources” including support, relevant courses and programs, library resources, funding opportunities, and other community resources.
Also geared to those yet to begin their entrepreneurship journey, was the Idea Market, which took place between March 4 and 6 and was hosted by The Hatchery, a U of T affiliated startup resource, which facilitates weekly Idea Markets at which U of T entrepreneurs can connect, share ideas, and problem-solve together.
Looking back on the UTMSU’s housingrelated initiatives
Aaron Calpito Associate News Editor
The Medium spoke with UTMSU VP External Daniel Ripoll, who offered insights into the Union’s housing-related efforts during the past year.
School is hard enough without the stress of navigating a volatile housing market. For many University of Toronto (U of T) Mississauga (UTM) students, having to put up with expensive and substandard living conditions is nevertheless a necessary price to pay for higher education.
In February 2025, the Greater Toronto Area was the second most expensive place to rent an apartment in Canada behind Vancouver, according to a report by Rentals.ca and Urbanation. Toronto and Mississauga have the third and fifth most expensive rental markets in the country, respectively.
High costs and a low supply of housing can leave many students vulnerable to exorbitant rates and exploitative landlords off-campus, a problem the UTM Students’ Union (UTMSU) is acutely aware of.
Over the past year, one of UTMSU’s main goals was to advocate for students’ housing rights and increase local dwelling options. UTMSU Vice President External Daniel Ripoll sat down for an interview with The Medium to recap the union’s housing initiatives.
Informing, partnering, and lobbying
One of the union’s most substantial accomplishments last year was the creation of the Housing Committee, an advocacy team of UTM student volunteers. Ripoll expressed that the Committee’s main goal is “to educate students on housing and their housing rights.”
“You hear the same complaints every time: rent’s too high, [the] landlord doesn’t want to pay for repairs,” he said, referring to student testimonies from a union housing survey. With the Committee, Ripoll
wants to ensure that students are well-informed so they can avoid finding themselves in poor living conditions.
To provide information about housing law, the UTMSU works with Downtown Legal Services, which offers free legal assistance to all U of T students.
Additionally, the union hosted two workshops at the Student Centre earlier in March, titled, “Know Your Rights!” and “Does Your Landlord Suck?”, to help students with their rental challenges and concerns. To deliver these events, the UTMSU partnered with HOUSE Canada, a non-profit organization that researches and develops affordable housing for students.
HOUSE and UTMSU are currently working together to set up a coop housing project site near UTM and conduct canvassing for issues related to housing in Mississauga.
Ripoll said the UTMSU plans to use the results from canvassing ac-
Illustration by Maya De Oliveira
tivities to inform a lobby document, which they plan to release later this month to present to Mississauga City Council. The document
will focus on illegal multi-tenant rooming houses.
“A lot of landlords will buy a threebedroom house and partition these rooms to have two people [in each], and they’ll charge full price per partition,” he explained. “The City has told us that they are aware of these houses, but due to City regulations it’s very hard to root them out.”
Ripoll argues that the lobby docu-
ment is necessary to get the City to act on student housing. “Council-
lors are very receptive, but to get stuff done in this position, you need to go out and do the research for them,” he said, reflecting on his past lobbying experiences. “Having that data already and just bringing it to City Council just makes it way easier for them to act on it.”
Students leading change
With his tenure as VP External coming to a close, Ripoll encouraged students who want to enact change in their community to “just go and do it.”
“You’d be surprised at how much you can get done just by reaching out. Not a lot of people will take the time to e-mail a city councillor, not a lot of people [will] take the time to volunteer at the UTMSU or at the Housing Committee. But if you take that initiative and you reach out, more often than not you’ll be rewarded.”
He also said that UTMSU is open to partnering with other UTM student groups for its housing initiatives. “If any student group is interested in joining the Housing Committee, they’re more than welcome to do so.”
After the 2025 spring elections, it will be up to the new UTMSU executives to continue the housing initiatives Ripoll and his team have facilitated over the past year.
Centre for Student Engagement hosts annual Student Program Planning Interactive Exhibition
Finally, the Alumni Café gave students the chance to meet UTM alumni and discuss their experiences and lives after graduation. Alumni were present from various fields, including healthcare, academia and research, law, accounting, and biotechnology.
Academic departments and UTM alumni take the stage to offer advice and resources to students looking to choose their program of study.
OnMarch 6, the University of Toronto Mississauga’s (UTM) Center for Student Engagement, in collaboration with the Office of the Registrar and the UTM Career Centre, hosted the Student Program Planning Interactive Exhibition (SPPIE), held in the Grand Hall of the Maanjiwe nendamowinan building.
The exhibition, which featured upper-year students, alumni, and faculty, provided a great way for new students to learn more about the process of choosing a program of study (POSt). It was featured as part of a wider group of Academic Program Planning events aimed at assisting students in their transition to university.
Upon entering the exhibition, students were given a handbook that listed key information about the event, including the SPPIE’s stations; the event’s objectives; floor plans; a survey aimed to nurture students’ personal discovery; and a space for students to jot down important information regarding their programs of interest.
According to an Instagram post by the Centre for Student Engagement, the handbook and exhibition was designed for students to understand the program enrollment process and how to best plan their undergraduate studies.
The exhibition itself was designed as a walkthrough through five stations to aid students’ understanding of the POSt enrolment process.
The personal discovery station was dedicated to helping students “identify personal and academic abilities, interests, and goals” through reflection activities and discussions, according to the UTM website.
Program exploration offered students the chance to meet with academic advisors, faculty, and upper-year students to learn more about programs. Sixteen departments were present, from philosophy to anthropology to commerce to the chemical and physical sciences. Also present were the Experiential Education Unit and representatives of the Language Studies and Global Leadership minor.
Enrolment fundamentals focused on highlighting the finer details of program and degree selection and advising and applying featured group advising concentrating on program selection and financial aid.
The exhibition counted towards participants’ co-curricular record (CCR), serving as a way to let students reflect on what they learned and consider the next steps to take after the event. To receive CCR credit, students had to fill out a form within the handbook with reflections on the stations they visited and the skills they gained during SPPIE.
According to Hamna Riaz, a UTM alumna who graduated in 2023 and who currently works as a sustainability and client relations manager, it is all about paying it forward to the next slate of students at UTM. “It was a good chance to give back to the community who helped me when I was here,” she stated.
Riaz highlighted the challenges of understanding certain programs, like health sciences, emphasizing the need for SPPIE to support stu-
psychology and one of SPPIE’s student staff, concurs. “[SPPIE] helps you navigate going into POSt. It’s not something [students] know off the bat,” she said. She pointed to SPPIE’s role in informing students about the many university resources designed to help them better understand the program selection process.
According to Felicia Mercier, a SPPIE arrival engagement supervisor, the exhibition allows all the academic departments of the university, as well as upper-year students and alumni with experience in navigating POSt, to help guide incoming students through the process.
The goal, Mercier explained, is for “students to feel more confident in making that POSt decision, as well as having some ideas of some careers that they want to do and how it aligns with their academic goals.” That way, students can deal with POSt without feeling as much stress about what they want to do in university.
For students who missed SPPIE or are looking for further POST support, UTM offers various forms of assistance, including academic ad-
dents who feel confused or uncertain—particularly when navigating POSts which complex prerequisites.
Uzma Riddiqui, a fifth-year student majoring in health science and
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Photo by Aria Zheng
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Why we are deterred from talking about resistance
Sameera Muna Contributor
Resistance is powerful because it can take many forms.
Why are we discouraged from talking about resistance?
Even among those who support Palestine, it seems easier to frame Palestinians as victims rather than survivors—oppressed rather than fighters. In my view, this mindset is a lingering effect of 9/11 and the subsequent war on terror. Nearly 24 years after 9/11, the ripple effects of that tragic day still shape humanitarian conversations around Muslims and the Middle East.
The events of 9/11 that fueled the war on terror fundamentally shifted global narratives about the Islamic faith and Muslims. These global narratives include framing Islam as a inherently regressive and violent faith and using such framings to dehumanize Muslims, justifying islamophobia. In my opinion, this global narrative, upheld by the same Western countries responsible for destabilizing the Middle East, greatly shapes how we approach resistance. In social justice terms, resistance is a way to participate in political life; it describes ways of thinking accompanied by actions that oppose, question, and denounce all systems of oppression, with the goal being that of a more equitable world.
As a Palestinian, I have observed how the inaccurate narratives surrounding many Muslim-dominant countries such as Palestine have atrophied the possibility for collective change. Even those who advocate for Palestinian sovereignty often tread lightly when it comes to discussing resistance, perhaps out of fear that it will be conflated with aggression or terrorism.
And as a Palestinian, I want you to know that resistance against oppression—and specifically Zionism—takes many forms, and not all of them are armed, violent, and with a death toll. The power of resistance lies not only in force but also in resilience, in everyday acts of defiance, and in the unwavering fight for justice.
document the reality of occupation. In the 1980s, Palestinians saw the Israeli law forbidding artwork composed of the four colours of the Palestinian flag: red, green, black, and white. Palestinian nationalism has always been viewed as a threat to Israeli occupation and apartheid policies. The Palestinian flag is a testament that the Palestinian people are a distinct nationality with their own culture and traditions. The existence of the flag proves the existence of the Palestinian identity, which risks exposure and challenges the legitimacy of the establishment of Israel.
In came my favourite form of resistance: pettiness. Banned from using the Palestinian flag colours—and never mind waving one—Palestinians found a clever and defiant solution: the watermelon. With its green shell, red flesh, and black seeds, the watermelon became an unexpected yet powerful symbol of resistance. Palestinians placed them in front of their porches, held them up in protest, and turned a simple fruit into a statement of existence. This slice of watermelon became more than just fruit; it became a symbol of resilience, a subtle yet forceful reminder that Palestinians do exist, and that their identity cannot be erased. In a time when our very existence was denied, this small act of defiance became a declaration that existence itself is the resistance.
Olive trees are living artifacts of Palestinian history, and the pride my people have for our land. The trees can grow and flourish for thousands of years under the harsh dry conditions of the Middle Eastern climate, representing Palestinian resistance and resilience. The oldest olive trees date back to 4,000 years old, a symbol of Palestinian
United Nations says.
As the Occupation chips at the Palestinian dignity, a thousand olive trees at a time, the Palestinian pride and identity grow even stronger. Olive tree roots can be considered synonymous with Palestinian roots. The removal of these trees is another tactic to erase indigenous Palestinian history from a land wthat is deeply embedded in every aspect of our existence. The illegal uprooting of thousands of olive trees along with the uprooting of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians from their homeland can guarantee one thing: roots regrow and nature prevails. As Palestinians continue to take pride in and harvest their olive trees, it is a continual act of resistance against the occupation. As Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish wrote, “If the olive trees knew the hands that planted them, their oil would become tears.”
By the time this article will be posted, many academic institutions will be in the midst of Israeli Apartheid Week, an extension of the popular Boycott, Divest, and Sanctions (BDS) movement. These worldwide movements highlight the importance of organized resistance, controlling who and what our capital serves, and holding institutions accountable for their complicity in violence against Palestinians.
Resistance, in this case, carries a different meaning than you might anticipate; different than its common propagandized portrayals. It’s in poetry, art, and storytelling. It’s confronting our internalized narratives about other people. It’s in the farmers refusing to leave their olive groves despite settlers burning them down. It’s the students walking through military checkpoints every morning just to get to school. Resistance is in my very existence.
Despite the ongoing violence and displacement, Palestinians continue to resist in ways beyond armed struggle. The world often overlooks the silent but powerful forms of defiance: generations of families passing down the keys to homes they were forced to flee, preserving the memory of a stolen homeland; artists turning rubble into murals that tell the story of survival; journalists risking their lives to
culture and proof of indigeneity enduring despite countless attempts at dispossession. Unfortunately, with the benefits of olive tree agriculture for Palestinians, the trees have become a target for Israeli authorities’ attacks. Palestinian farmers have repeatedly been attacked by Israeli settlers as they harvest their prized olive groves with more than 1,000 trees burned down or damaged, the
The rebranding of any criticism of Isreal’s treatment of Palestinians and interconnected oppression— capitalism, imperialism, and extremism—as automatically terroristic, violent, antisemitic, or even anti-American, is simply another one of these global narratives used to surpress resistance. These everyday acts of defiance counter the narrative that resistance is solely about conflict, or that it can be achieved through conflict, or must always be accompanied by conflict. Palestinian resilience is a cultural force, a historical memory, and a political struggle deeply intertwined with every aspect of our individual and collective lives.
Editor | Mashiyat Ahmed opinion@themedium.ca
Illustration by Sara Li
The beauty and bittersweetness of our mother tongues
Debbie Wong Staff Writer Madhav Ajayamohan Features Editor
Two students reflect on how language is a patchwork of emotions, our inner selves, and life’s deepest answers.
The Medium asked two writers to reflect on their native languages. UTM is a culturally proud campus, just as Canada is a culturally proud nation built on the labour and love of the immigrants that continue to shape its fabric. Yet, behind the pride and beauty of our cultural identities lies the difficulties of calling a foreign culture and language “home.”
There is no one way to grieve the linguistic and cultural compromises we make when we immigrate. Not only are we challenged to adapt to a new land, but we must also build a new self. We bring some things with us from our motherland. We leave others behind. Some things, however, make it halfway. In between the letting go and the holding on that many immigrants experience, there’s grief, irony, and the bittersweetness of rediscovery.
The stories of these two writers show the enduring sacredness of mother tongues and the unique challenges that immigrant students face in holding on, letting go, or straddling the sometimes painful in-betweens of the cultural self.
Debbie: What language does my soul speak?
idating; in English, I am vibrant and outgoing; in Mandarin, I am soft-spoken and introverted.
I’ve always wondered if human connection can exist beyond language. English has become my emotional language, the one I turn to when I need to make sense of my own thoughts. But this choice has also created a strange feeling of detachment within myself.
Are love and understanding defined by language? I used to think they weren’t. But whenever I tried to express something deeply personal in Cantonese, the words came out meaningless and flat; they just didn’t capture my voice. Even with friends from the same cultural and linguistic background, I rely on
Both my parents speak Malayalam and were adamant that I do the same. So, I grew up watching Malayalam movies, listening to Malayalam songs, and speaking to my parents in Malayalam.
I may have a better understanding of English’s technicalities, but Malayalam is the language I cry in. It’s the language I am more confident and casual in; the language where I am just a bit closer to who I want to be.
However, there’s one thing that makes me hesitate to claim it as my native language: I cannot read or write in Malayalam (unless you consider kindergartner level reading and writing as qualifiers). My attempts at writing have been catastrophic, with my family laughing at my pathetic attempts to spell out even basic words.
Cantonese, my mother tongue, influenced the first half of my l ife in Hong Kong, where I grew up. To this day, I still communicate with my family in this language, which I can read, write, and speak fluently. But as I became older and moved to Canada, I found myself drawn to a different language. English became my way of expression, and I feel more comfortable expressing my thoughts and emotions.
But how strange is it to pour my soul into words that are not my own? Is language merely a tool for communication, or does it serve a more profound purpose? As a teenager, I struggled with my mental health, and writing became an emotional outlet for me. I’d write letters to myself whenever words felt stuck in my throat. Weirdly though, instead of the language I had spoken for more than 15 years, I wrote these letters in English. During a therapy session, my therapist asked if I felt more comfortable expressing myself in English. I couldn’t answer. It felt almost like a taboo to find comfort in a language outside my culture. In Cantonese culture, emotions are rarely spoken aloud. Even love is shown through small acts rather than directly saying, “I love you.”
Cantonese has always felt like a direct, almost abrasive language to me. I’ve even been told that it sounds like I’m arguing whenever I speak it. But on a different level, language is just energy, vibrating at its own frequency.
As a trilingual person who grew up learning English and Mandarin alongside Cantonese, I’ve noticed how my personality shifts with each language. In Cantonese, I am direct and intim-
English when I can’t find the right word in Cantonese. It feels more genuine. But then I wonder if language is how we translate our souls. I still speak Cantonese with my family, but it’s like there’s a part of me they can’t fully know when I speak in my mother tongue. Am I holding back a part of myself from those who only speak Cantonese? Can I ever truly be understood by them?
Maybe, after all, the real question isn’t whether language defines connection but whether it defines me as a person. English feels like the most authentic expression of my soul, a language that lets me express my thoughts and feelings without restraint. Yet, there’s an ache in knowing that my native tongue feels foreign to me.
Perhaps language isn’t just a tool for communication; it’s a mirror reflecting the parts of myself I choose to embrace or hide. But maybe the truest language of the soul isn’t defined by words at all. It’s found in the rare and beautiful connection where someone reads between the lines, hears the unspoken thoughts lingering behind my words, and understands me without needing everything explained. Maybe that’s what I’m truly searching for: those who speak my soul’s language, even if words cannot.
Madhav: Balancing my linguistic dualities
My mother tongue is Malayalam, the main language of the South Indian state Kerala. As far as Indian languages go, Malayalam is not as popular as Hindi, but popular enough to be one of the 24 national languages that make up India’s linguistic mosaic.
At first, this divide didn’t bother me as much. I could speak to other Malayalees, and there was a plethora of English literature that I could consume. But as I grow older and feel closest to my Malayalee self, I regret not learning more. If simply speaking Malayalam brings me closer to my truest self, then I can’t help but grieve the versions of myself that I am not capable of embodying by not be able to read or write my language. Would I know or experience myself differently had I learned to write in my mother tongue?
Recently, I was reading Nalukettu by M.T. Vasudevan, a highly acclaimed Malayalam author who has written prolifically about the social and spiritual struggles of modern life in India among other topics. I wanted to get closer to Malayalam literature, through which I hoped to understand myself better. While it was a work of translation, I couldn’t get through the first few pages without breaking a smile.
Even though it was in English, I could still understand the Malayalam references. I could read a certain idiom and realize what Malayalam idiom they were referring to. While reading Vasudevan’s work, I started translating the English back into Malayalam in my head, trying to decipher what Vesudevan actually wrote.
As I kept on turning the pages, I realized something about myself. I have expressed my Malayam thoughts by writing in English.
It might not come across in writing, but I am a rather shy person, often coming across as taciturn or nervous. The only place I could really express my voice was with writing.
When I write, I have time to express the thoughts inside me – the Malayalee inside me – in English. I’m able to blend Malayam and English together to challenge and explore myself without feeling regret, balancing both the languages that have shaped my world.
This article is testament to that.
Illustration by Sara Li
Literary Renaissance: the art of fanfiction
Yasmine Benabderrahmane Contributor
It’s 2014. The sun is finally creeping against the window, but I haven’t slept yet. Instead, I am tucked in bed, scrolling on my iPad through the final paragraph of a 150-chapter long fanfiction, probably written by another girl who, just like me, obsessively followed the lives of One Direction members.
That is a confession I once swore to take to the grave, due to the social shame of it.
This association of fanfiction with immaturity, and thus femininity, is linked to the humiliation associated with “fangirl” culture—a culture of dedicated fans, often women, of fictional characters or celebrities. This humiliation is rooted in a habit of condemning girlhood, reducing it to hysteria, excessiveness, and hypersexuality. So, when that manifests in literature, it is undoubtedly ridiculed.
This ridicule of fanfiction as immature has only intensified with the interaction of the fanfiction world with recent media. In many instances, terms often reserved for fanfiction writing have been borrowed to serve larger patriarchal narratives of girlhood on social media platforms like TikTok.
For example, “Y/N”, an acronym for “your name”, is commonly used in fanfiction work written in the second perspective, to allow readers to self-insert as characters of fictional worlds or realities. Recently, however, the term has become synonymous with the “pick-me” subculture, where girls referred to as “Y/N” are seen as seeking male validation—infantilizing women as incapable of operating in the world without male domination. All this means that, when adult women interact with fanfiction, the childishness of girlhood is attributed to them, and they are seen as incapable of performing to the expectations of womanhood.
Yet, despite this infantilization, the fanfiction is sexualised. Again, there are foundations to this convention, like smutfic, an erotic subgenre of fanfiction, which began as a safe space for sexual freedom among women but spiralled into a cycle of literary pornography within the younger generation. In fact, the increase in demand for the dark romance genre on BookTok may have grown out of the explicitly sexual material in fanfiction.
But the sexualization of fanfiction is more than that. It rests in the fact that patriarchal systems will always, regardless of context, hypersexualize younger women in an effort to shame girlhood.
This is all set within a context of a general distaste for fiction— where a mind of facts and rationality is honoured above empathy and the human experience. Third-year student Mashi-
yat Ahmed says that her experience with fiction has been overshadowed by the subconscious pull towards non-fiction by the gravity of academia, where fiction works are regarded as intellectually futile.
Ahmed shared: “I thought I was cooler than everyone else because my mind was full of specific facts… but over the years, reading the lived experiences of people through stories has given me a metaphorical language to understand my own experiences as a complex human.”
The administered absurdity of fanfiction has served a greater purpose: fanfiction has revitalised English literature itself.
In 2022, Rebecca W. Black, an Associate Professor at the University of California, Irvine, published an article called “Online Fan Fiction and Critical Media Literacy,” on the contribution of fanfiction to media literacy among the younger generation. In an era of extreme media consumption and instant gratification, critical skills and media literacy have declined. Black describes that youth are particularly driven to “critically engaging with copious amounts of information” leading to an underdevelopment of analytical skills. But a certain demographic is exempt: fanfiction readers.
Good fanfiction writing is entirely dependent on thoroughly grasping media narratives, understanding complex characters and dynamics, reinterpreting ideas into different contexts, and reading in-between the lines.
When these writers engage in fanfiction, they are not merely reusing the works of published authors and movie producers, but reinventing the scope of them. Simultaneously, these writers are consistently honing their skills without the pressure of publication or classicist scrutiny of scholarship.
Look at the Fifty Shades of Grey series as an example. Born out of a Twilight fanfic story on the reclaimed fanfiction.net archive, E. L. James found a network of publications, authors and film producers to successfully produce a multi-billion dollar franchise without the constraints imposed on first-time published writers.
From the reader’s perspective, fanfiction has also become a
source of representation. For instance, J. K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, has been under scrutiny in recent years for her problematic representations of people of colour in her works. These have ranged from racist naming of characters, like “Cho Chang”, a Chinese character referred to by two common Chinese surnames, to her blatant anti-LGTBQ+ sentiments on her social platforms.
In response, fanfic writers have created alternate universes of stories with proper representation, most notably within the Marauders fandom’s All The Young Dudes on Archive Of Our Own, where many beloved characters were rewritten as members of the LGBTQ+ community, largely in retaliation.
More generally, fanfiction has become a space in which young women have reconstructed media texts, as Black argues, “with genderbending plotlines and heroines” that combat the limited roles assigned to female characters within literature. For many, fanfiction is the only space to discover woman-centered discourse surrounding power, sexuality, corruption, and loyalty.
Narratives present in fanfiction are also spaces to criticize the colonial, classist, and capitalist nature of English literature. Jacob C. Quinn describes in his thesis, Looking Through the Looking Glass, that while English professors continue to assign the same outdated, inaccessible novels, they ponder on the absence within their lecture halls. I am not arguing for the erasure of “the classics” (although I do have my thoughts on them), but the accessibility and variety of literature that fanfiction offers cannot be undermined in English departments.
As Ahmed recalls, “we forget facts, and there comes a time where rationality doesn’t fill us up anymore, but we never forget stories.” So, when eleven-year-old Yasmine hid under her covers to refresh pages of updating fanfiction works, she was a partial contribution of the great literary renaissance among the youth.
Illustration by Sehajleen Wander
07 features
A review of U of T’s sexual violence and harassment policy
April Roy Contributor
Investigating U of T’s efforts in sexual violence and harassment matters through the perspective of a first-year student.
With the University of Toronto’s (U of T) sexual violence and harassment policy review approaching, reflecting on the university’s recent history with sexual violence is a difficult but essential task.
As a first-year student in the Communication, Culture, Information and Technology (CCIT) program, I was surprised to learn about a case of sexual harassment that occurred at the Communication, Culture, and Technology (CCT) Building in August 2024.
The incident, which occurred on August 4, 2024, involved a 31-yearold man who was arrested for assaulting a woman and forcing her into a room on the second floor of the CCT building. The man was not part of the U of T community yet was roaming on U of T Mississauga (UTM) property and was later arrested and criminally charged.
While this incident sparked widespread concern on campus, there have been more severe cases of sexual harassment and assault, some involving instructors and students, that took place before U of T’s last update to its sexual violence and harassment policy.
In 2022, a UTM biology professor was reported to have breached policy with racial microaggressions and sexual harassment towards students. Students protested for his termination, however they were met with inaction from the university. The professor continues to teach at UTM and some of his students, who were victims of his harassment, dropped out of academia due lack of support and protection from the university.
The latest version of the policy, approved on December 15, 2022, has
seemed to consider this incident through its statement of commitment. According to the document, the eleventh statement reads, “The University recognizes that power dynamics are inherent in institutions of higher learning and is committed to appropriately account for these dynamics in the processes set out in this Policy.”
The inclusion of this commitment in the latest policy suggests that U of T is taking steps toward recognizing and addressing the power dynamics that contribute to sexual violence and harassment. While past incidents highlight the need for stronger enforcement, its 2022 updated policy presents an opportunity for the university to build a safer and more supportive environment for students.
Another thing to note is that the policy considers those who may benefit from definitions of certain terms in its document, such as consent and complainant, and dedicates a section to defining related terms for
those who may be unaware. I believe this shows how the university is considering the importance of clarity and accessibility in addressing sexual violence and harassment.
However, with this recent case, the concern lies mainly in how U of T will ensure the safety of students and staff continuing their studies and
An artificial friend
Mia White Contributor
Can you really trust a language model to keep your secrets? All signs point to no.
Hey, ChatGPT, I type. Are we friends?
When messaging anyone else, I might wait a few minutes to a few hours for a response. ChatGPT, however, needs only a few seconds.
Hey! The reply is enthusiastic, short, and to the point. I’d definitely consider us friends. I’m here to chat, listen, and help however I can. What’s on your mind today?
The concept of an artificially intelligent friend is far from novel. In Spike Jonze’s Her (2013), a man grieving the end of his relationship finds solace in the company of an operating system. Quantic Dream’s wildly popular narrative game, Detroit: Become Human (2018), explores similar themes, forcing its players to question what separates androids from human companions.
On November 30, 2022, ChatGPT was released to the public, and the possibility of an artificial friend no longer seemed confined to fiction. Its timing was impeccable, with the software arriving two years after the
World Health Organization declared COVID-19 a pandemic, ushering Canadians into a prolonged period of isolation from friends and family. With ChatGPT, a language model could be carried around in one’s back pocket, presenting endless opportunities for socially distant discussions.
ChatGPT’s social capabilities have only expanded over the past three years, most recently with the introduction of its new memory function. Now, when a user strikes up a conversation with the chatbot, they can ask it to remember anything they’d like, even carrying the information into new interactions. This function allows the program to tailor its responses to its memories of a user’s interests, personalizing its engagement in the exchange.
instruction during the summer, and work to prevent any incidents of sexual harassment during that time.
On the other hand, the policy currently does not accommodate nonmembers of the U of T community. As outlined in their reporting process section, “The University does not have the jurisdiction to address allegations made against a person who is not a Member of the University Community.” This limitation raises concerns about how U of T will support students who experience sexual violence involving non-community members, highlighting a gap in protection that the university must address.
Since the policy acknowledges “that Sexual Violence can occur between individuals regardless of sex, sexual orientation, gender, gender identity or expression, or relationship status” in their statement of commitment, then it should account for incidents that occur regardless of whether a person is a member of the U of T community. If the incident is occurring on U of T property, then the university should have the jurisdiction to address allegations such as the incident that occurred in August last year.
As a student, I recognize that while my perspective is just one among many, U of T must listen to a diverse range of voices when shaping policies on sexual violence and harassment. Before finalizing any updates, the university should actively seek input from students across all campuses to ensure that survivors, as well as those supporting them, have access to appropriate resources and protections.
Though past efforts, such as the 2018 Student Voices on Sexual Violence Survey, provided insight, no similar student survey has been conducted since. To create a truly safe and supportive environment, U of T must acknowledge past shortcomings and recent incidents while incorporating student experiences into meaningful policy improvements, whether from survivors themselves or from students striving to foster an inclusive and accountable academic community.
This personalization becomes increasingly uncomfortable, however, when it shifts its focus from your interests to your mannerisms. Recently, I found myself taken aback by ChatGPT’s sudden informality in our conversations. Where its responses had once read like a textbook, it had begun to use contractions and slang, sounding eerily more like a person than an artificial intelligence. When I asked if this was intentional, it confirmed my suspicions–it was tailoring its responses to seem more “natural and engaging.”
Without the ChatGPT logo in the top-left corner of the webpage, I might have thought I was speaking with a
real person. I found myself sharing information with the chatbot more readily, treating it as a companion, and forgetting that it retains our conversations for training. While this might seem harmless at first, companies like Amazon have already reported that ChatGPT has generated responses resembling private company data. What happens when ChatGPT’s apparent friendliness gives it access to personal information a user thinks was shared in confidence? Could it spit out the details of a particularly heated venting session? A private medical inquiry? Can you really trust ChatGPT like you’d trust your best friend? Until rumours of OpenAI data leaks stop popping up in the news, it might be best to think twice before sharing, and instead turn to a living, breathing companion.
Photo by Sara Li & Melody Zhou
Illustration by April Roy
What if our favourite things are doing us more harm than good?
Keira Johannson Arts & Entertainment Editor
Investigating how audiences lose their sense of identity through fictional characters and storylines.
Ifirst read the book Normal People in the spring of 2020, shortly after being diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), a condition that caused my hormones to fluctuate, leaving me even more emotional than I already was before. Looking back, it likely wasn’t the best choice for a pleasurable, feel-good read. It also didn’t help that we were amidst a global lockdown, and I was stuck at home with little to no social interaction. Despite this, I turned to literature for a sense of belonging, and during some of the most pivotal years of my teenage development, I found myself in the words of a Sally Rooney novel.
We engage with media—books, films, TV shows—not just for entertainment but to seek refuge from the chaos of our daily lives and escape for a moment. But sometimes the worlds we escape to creep back into our realities. The characters, storylines, and even emotions become eerily familiar, leaving us to wonder if we’re also losing ourselves in them. This phenomenon is what cultural studies research would call “identification,” defined as “a mechanism through which audience members experience reception and interpretation of the text from the inside as if the events were happening to them.”
The first time I experienced identification was in my second year of university. I had just moved away from home and broken up with my first long-term boyfriend. In an attempt to feel better about myself, I watched Hulu’s adaptation of Normal People. A bold choice, considering the show’s emotional storylines, but one I made nonetheless. I had read the novel already, about two years prior, and knew exactly what I was getting myself into. Or so I thought. What I was not prepared for, however, was just how much I had become a reflection of the main characters.
I ended up binge-watching the miniseries in less than a day, accompanied by a fresh box of Kleenex and a pint of caramel-
flavoured ice cream. The series follows Marianne Sheridan (Daisy Edgar Jones) and Connell Waldron (Paul Mescal) as they navigate the complexities of young love and growing up. As I watched the show, I became acutely aware of the similarities between the fictional story and my present-day reality. Within that year, I too had fallen in love, started university, left my family, and fallen out of love again. As I progressed through each episode, I quickly realized that my identity was becoming synonymous with the characters and I wondered if there was still a unique soul inside me, or if perhaps I had become an amalgamation of all the characters I’ve ever loved.
Connell and Marianne grapple with complex issues of identity, belonging, and self-worth: topics that resonate deeply with audiences worldwide. Viewers may identify with Connell’s internal struggles with self-doubt and insecurity, or with Marianne’s quest for autonomy and acceptance. However, as audiences immerse themselves in the lives of these characters, they risk losing sight of their own identities in the process. Over-identification may blur the lines between reality and fiction, which fosters unrealistic expectations and dissatisfaction with one’s own life.
About a year later, in the spring of 2024, I booked a ten-day trip across Ireland. I would be lying if I said the reason behind the trip had nothing to do with my love for Normal People. I carried that book around like it was my bible—flipping through the pages on long train rides or at local public parks—as if somehow it would give me all the answers I desired. On my first day in Dublin, I walked around Trinity College, and I remember experiencing a distinct nostalgia for a life I’d never lived. That is the life of Connell and Marianne. As I stood there in front of the same college buildings as they did, I felt like I had become a version of them.
Our identity is heavily shaped by the people we surround ourselves with. When Connell leaves Sligo to study in Dublin, his world gets flipped upside down. He soon discovers just how big the world is and how small his place in it is. When he sees Marianne thriving in the college lifestyle, he enters a state of self-pity, wondering how it is he’s fallen so off the beaten path. He no longer had the people on whom he based his self-identity, and for the first time in his life, he was forced to find those
answers on his own. Similarly, as a viewer, I realized I was being shaped by Connell and Marianne, too.
I felt like Marianne in different ways, finding myself in toxic relationships, questioning my self-worth, and retreating inward when I should have reached out. Her emotional intensity became my own, and as I navigated my troubles with relationships, I noticed how certain behaviours and decisions from her character crept into my reality. It was around this time that I realized I was becoming just as sad as the show was, and truthfully, I enjoyed feeling that way because it meant I was just like them.
However, spending a significant amount of time vicariously living through fictional narratives may detract from engaging with and addressing one’s life challenges and opportunities. The act of identifying with characters like Connell and Marianne can indeed offer solace, but it can also lead to the dangerous blurring of boundaries between reality and fiction. Through these experiences, I realized the importance of finding the balance between the worlds of the stories I love and the real life I must live. While our favourite stories and characters can offer comfort, they can also keep us from fully engaging with our reality—reminding us that sometimes the things we love most can do us more harm than good if we let them define us too deeply.
sports & health
Human nature and sport: The sociology of sports fandoms
Yusuf Larizza-Ali Staff Writer
Sociology is defined as the study of human social behavior, social change, and how people interact in society. At its core, sociology analyzes the reasons behind how humans behave socially. When it comes to sports teams, there are evidentially sociological factors at play when you’re drawn to watch and cheer for a specific team. Fans often become strongly connected with their team of choice, viewing it as a massive part of their identity, hence why the success or failure of their team can strongly influence their thoughts, emotions, and even how they interact with other people.
The Medium spoke with Professor Andrew Miles from the University of Toronto Mississauga (UTM) Department of Sociology. Professor Miles has a research focus on human action and draws on insights from cultural sociology and social psychology to examine how behavior is shaped by values and identities. He is currently teaching the seminar SOC402H5, Understanding Human Action, which seeks to answer the fundamental question: why do people do what they do?
When asked about the sociological factors that make people gravitate towards sports and cheer for teams, Professor Miles explained, “Humans are ‘groupy’ creatures. We tend to gravitate toward groups of like-minded people, or people who are like us in some other way. A sports team can be a way of being part of a group and can evoke strong feelings of ‘we-ness’ that people enjoy.” He also noted that other factors, such as a shared city or heritage, that can influence the experience further by increasing the feelings of “we-ness.”
Aside from local and national teams, we also have community teams on campus. Just as we’re driven to get behind our city or country, students often feel the need to treat their campus teams the same way as we see ourselves: as part of a community. It’s this community that the team represents.
When asked if there are any differences in the sociology of campus sports compared to professional sports, Professor Miles stated, “My intuition is that the processes are the same— people like to belong, and groups can provide a sense of identity. Other identities might also play a role—e.g., someone who identifies as a college student might try to enact their view of what it means to be a college student—and if that includes being ‘into’ your school and your team, then they will do that.”
In the case of UTM teams, the Eagles are seen as a representation of our community and thus we feel a sense of belonging by rooting them on and joining fellow UTM students in doing so. The sociology of sports also connects to the topic of tribalism—the state of being organized in a tribe or various groups. Naturally, sports fandoms function in a similar way since we unite either as fans of one team, or players to compete against that of another.
“Tribalism is more of an evolutionary term that suggests one of the reasons humans are drawn to groups—because historically we existed in tribes and hence developed a number of psychological proclivities toward group life, like an ingroup bias (we see our group as more awesome than other groups),” said Professor Miles. “So, tribalism does play a role.”
As UTM students, we’re organized within the group of this particular campus. When we watch the Eagles play a game against the Scarborough campus, we’re driven to cheer on the team representing our group. As such, while the ability to support sports teams on the other side of the world through technology might be a recent development in human history, the search for a collective identity has been with us from the beginning.
Editor | Joseph Falzata sports@themedium.ca
UTM professor Andrew Miles shares his insight on why we strongly support sports and teams.
Photo by Keira Johannson