Poetic Identities

These resources do exist, we are not claiming to reinvent the wheel, we are essentially trying to bring all these spaces together in one spot.

CHLOE WHITE CO-CREATOR, ONE STOP MENTAL HEALTH CANADA

I think building it in a way that’s democratic and allows input from society and at the very minimum.

DR. DARREN BYLER ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR

STUDIES DEPARTMENT

DIGGING

WATER

As a team, we have some strong goals for the rest of the year and I know our list of accomplishments will only continue to grow

IZZY FERGUSON // SFU WOMEN’S GOLF

PHOTO: Kampus Production / Pexels

This exclusive pathway for athletes attending NCAA member colleges means that leagues, more often than not, remain mostly American or Canadian.

STARS

03

McFogg greets you with a bouquet of flowers in his paws. You take the bouquet gratefully. “Well, superstar, we’re headed for the greatest place this campus can offer!” Your brain pours over all of the available options near you: the many cuisines in the food court? The cafeteria?

The fancy new Dining Commons?

McFogg breathes one word.

“Renaissance.”

You:

INTRO

You came to Simon Fraser University to engage yourself in many different disciplines. You didn’t expect that you could possibly . . . get engaged. You admit, this brutalist building might capture your heart when it isn’t disappointing you in every way possible. In the many paths our lives can take, you find yourself on the heels of a budding romance. A certain tartan toting canine awaits you: McFogg the Dog.

You are waiting at the fountain in the Academic Quadrangle at the Burnaby campus one quiet evening, and a text lights up your phone.

McFogg: Excited for our date?

You:

a) Ignore him and go to the bus stop so you can take the 143 down. You’re actually not too sure you want to engage with this canine paramour. Go to 5.

b) Text back

01

McFogg texts back, “Oh, you’re not leaving?” You suddenly see him behind you. Where did he come from? Does this dog teleport?!

You shake your head, anyways. “No, I was honestly thinking about it because the weather doesn’t look too fun,” you admit. Overhead, some clouds looked suspiciously indicative of another rainy night in Vancouver. “But hey, that’s life living here, right? Sorry, I should have said something.”

He nods, with an indeterminate expression on his face as he is wearing a mask. “Well, hey, bygones are bygones, eh?” McFogg has a stray maple leaf in his paw that he extends to you. It’s especially large.

“What do you say? A hike to the rose garden?”

“THERE’S A ROSE GARDEN AT SFU?”

“Yeah, I know it looks gloomy out, but there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy the flowers and the forest. Plus, there’s a restaurant up there!” He says, and you can feel him beaming underneath his mask. You know what? You think you are glad you decided to go on a date with this canine fursuit. You happily accompany McFogg to the rose garden, where you enjoy conversations about the weather, the lack of social culture at SFU, and more. It’s a lovely little date. END.

02

The two of you walk towards the Renaissance in the AQ building before it closes, passing by Blenz in the Student Union Building and giggling. You are somehow already creating your own inside jokes already, and you feel as though you’ve known each other forever.

McFogg grabs a table for the two of you, and it’s lit dimly. He brings you an iced chai and a caramel macchiato for himself — a classic — and you sit down and chat.

“So, I wanted to bring you here because I think it represents the perfect autumn date, here at the heart of SFU itself,” He gestured toward the empty hallways. The janitor’s cart squeaks across the floor two corners away and you two giggle like it’s a joke, because at least you aren’t hearing the wheels of that cart over your professor’s lectures like you usually do.

“It’s a good night!” you admit.

“I want to show you something,” he says, suddenly nervous. The bouquet on the table rolls toward you as he shudders. “I’m not the McFogg you think I am.”

“Huh?”

McFogg takes off his mask, revealing . . . nothing?

“I am the spirit of all McFoggs: past, present, and future. It’s a heavy burden I bear to take every student through their four, five, or ten years of university, but I take it nonetheless,” he nods seriously.

“So, like, a ghost?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I would still like to a-woo you in courtship, though, if you do not mind the ghost bit,” he laughed sheepishly, which is funny as he is a dog.

“Okay, yeah!” You are surprisingly okay with this.

Having entrusted this stunning revelation to you, your winning acceptance of McFogg’s spiritual responsibilities delights him. You two strut over to point out constellations in the night sky, and have the best first date. END.

a) Okay, so he’s nostalgic. That’s kinda cute. You agree to go on your little coffee shop date, like the light academia cuties you are!

Go to 2.

b) You cringe because you think Renaissance is overrated — a very hot take. You suggest the Dining Commons instead. Go to 4.

04

McFogg looks a bit disappointed, but perks up when you mention the new soup selections for autumn. He is, after all, a very soupy lad. “Okay, yeah, I’m fine with having my plans change!” He says nonchalantly, hiding a long scroll poorly in his fursuit. You shrug as if you don’t notice.

You and McFogg discuss many relevant topics: whether apple spice has taken off as much as pumpkin spice has, whether students read too much Freud, so on and so forth. Much as you try, you two seem like you are on two different pages. As you two drink your squash soup, you both feel quite comfortable.

Suddenly, McFogg coughs a bit. He rubs a pair of Clark Kent-esque glasses that you never noticed before. You look up. “This has been an amazing date, [Y/N], but I’ve got some midterms I need to study for,” he tells you.

“Oh, okay, that’s fine!” you say, but then you question whether McFogg even has midterms? I mean, of course he does, right? He’s a student like everyone else?

Or . . . is he?

You don’t know. As you watch McFogg dash into the SFU fog, you wonder what secrets McFogg is hiding. Or maybe it’s not that deep for a first date. END.

05

As you wait at the bus stop for the 143 to arrive, you suddenly make the horrid realization that the 143 doesn’t come after 7:00 p.m. Stinkin’ bus with its own stinkin’ agendas! You huff as you stare at your phone. Maybe this is a sign you should actually go on this date instead?

a) Sure! You pick up your phone and text McFogg back. It’s been ten minutes, but you see no sign of him at the fountain you agreed to meet at anyways. Go to 1.

b) It is not, actually. You think there just isn’t as much of a spark as you thought there was. Go to 6.

06

Sending out an apology text to McFogg to let him know your feelings, you take the 145 home. You feel glad that you listened to your instincts, though you wish you knew earlier, you take heart in knowing it’s never too late to say no.

McFogg texts back, “That’s okay! See you on the flip side, kiddo,” and although you’ve never known McFogg to talk like a surfer bro, you appreciate his friendly demeanor.

He seems like a polite fellow and you wish him luck in his ventures for romance. END.