Le journal bilingue de Glendon | Glendon’s Bilingual Newspaper
Vol. 60 Issue 9 : le 16 mars 2022
In This Issue Page 2 ● LETTER FROM THE EDITOR VIE ÉTUDIANTE Page 3 ● Alumni Feature: Après nous, le déluge EXPRESSIONS Page 4 ● Tous les débuts ont une fin Page 4 ● The Empty Ring Box ARTS ET DIVERTISSEMENT Page 5 ● Le Retour de Stromae Photo par Joseph Holmes
Page 5 ● The Art of Pole Dancing METROPOLIS Page 6 ● Alumni Feature: “Fight for those liberties that make a democracy so wonderful.” Page 7 ● Response To Alumni Article on Vaccine Mandates and Pro Tem Coverage of Current Events HEALTH AND WELLNESS Page 8 ● YorkU Active Minds Takeover: Mental Health Treatment and Where to Find It Page 9 ● Comment éviter l’adoption d’un mode de vie sédentaire pour vous sauver la vie ? Page 9 ● I can speak French, je le jure! ISSUES AND IDEAS Page 10 ● Asking the Ontario Government About their Licence Plates Page 11 ● Ukraine in Turmoil: A Canadian Perspective FUN & RELAXATION Page 12 ● Connect with Glendon Quiz La prochaine date limite : Vendredi 18 mars 2022
Joseph Holmes posing as a king on a throne, originally captioned “Do you want this man’s job?” Behind him, is a letter from President Dorothy Watson of the GCSU, begging Campus Security to shut down Pro Tem. The other letter is from Glendon Principal Philippe Garigue who praises Joseph Holme’s writing and newspaper leadership.
Alumni Feature: Après nous, le déluge Joseph Holmes Pro Tem Alumnus ‘81 If you think being Editor of Pro Tem is a boring job best performed by nerdy bookworms with ink-stained cuffs and coke-bottle glasses, I’m here to set you straight. There’s one particular year of Pro Tem that no one has ever told you about, but once you’ve heard the story I’m about to share, I’ll bet you look up the online archives, so you can read those amazing issues for yourself. As a published author who runs several companies that mentor social influencers and develop websites, I can tell you that the most valuable education I ever got was being Editor of Pro Tem in 1980-81. When I seized the helm of the Good Ship Pro Tem in the summer of 1980, the little weekly was in dire straits. We were still several years away from
the computer age, and the operation was decidedly medieval. Had Johannes Gutenberg been raised from the dead and brought into our offices, he would have run out screaming once he caught sight of our primitive publication. The typesetting was scattershot and hard to read, and the design and layout were cluttered, confused and boring. No wonder, then, that Pro Tem was barely an afterthought, ignored by most students or quickly scanned before being tossed into the wastebasket — it was clear something drastic needed to be done. Even though the entirety of my journalistic training consisted of watching “Citizen Kane” multiple times, the Pro Tem staff made the tragic mistake of selecting me as Editor, based on my ambitious plan to buy a new typesetting machine and to transform the newspaper into a magazine. It was a simple adjustment: turn the paper side-
ways, slice off one folded end, and put a couple of staples in the spine. Our first couple of issues looked horrendous, owing to our complete ignorance of the basic rules of page design. Week after week, however, our magazine improved, eventually becoming a shining ambassador of Glendon College. In fact, on York’s main campus, demand for Pro Tem at one point actually eclipsed demand for Excalibur! From the start, our goal was to get the students invested in their paper. Love it or hate it, either one was fine by us. We just wanted them to care. And to read it, of course. Our editorial policy was clear: we said what we meant, which was usually highly politically incorrect. We left no stone unturned in our efforts to raise hell among both the staff and the student body, offending, Continued on PAGE 3
