Illuminate: Spring 2021 by S4SUofT

We acknowledge the traditional territory upon which the project was created. This land has a long and tangled (hi)story that carries the footprints of the Huron-Wendat, Seneca, and the Mississaugas of the Credit River nations who have sought to walk gently on this land. They offered assistance to the first European travellers to this territory and shared their knowledge for survival. Toronto has a treaty with the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation, and is part of the Dish With One Spoon agreement to share the land between the Anishinaabek and the Hodenosaunee nations. In moving toward reconciliation we seek to polish the Silver Covenant Chain and to restore the relationship with the original peoples of this land, one based on honour and deep respect.

Many thanks to Dr. Tara Goldstein and Dr. Sandra Styre for sharing/inspiring this land acknowledgement.

ILLUMINATE The Students for Shelters Magazine

Sponsored by Hart House Good Ideas Fund Spring 2021

Sponsorship Note The Illuminate Magazine Team would first like to thank all of our contributors, the Editorial Board, and the Students for Shelters Executives for their hard work. We are sincerely grateful for all the efforts everyone has put into our pilot magazine. We would also like to thank Professor Vikki Visvis for overseeing our team this academic year. Your insights and guidance have tremendously helped us. Finally, we would like to give a big thank you to the Hart House Good Ideas Fund for sponsoring our magazine. Without your kindness and support we would not be able to achieve this project. Thank you all for giving us the opportunity to channel our passions into Illuminate.

Illuminate Editorial Board Spring 2021

Editors in Chief Hannah Benyamin Breanna Lakhan Frances Argento Editors Bea Kraljii Charlotte Nunn Andrea Pinto Sara Durante Lisa Toi Maytal Lazarovic Jasleen Dhaliwal Talha Anwar Chaudhry Graphic Design Maria Ebeid Hannah Benyamin Breanna Lakhan Frances Argento Cover Art Dhilini Hapuhennedige Charlotte Nunn Samantha Chan Copy Editor Dhilini Hapuhennedige

Author and Artist Biographies Maytal Lazarovic (she/her) Maytal Sarah Lazarovic is a second-year student double majoring in Ethics, Society, & Law and Environmental Studies. Maytal hopes to one day become a lawyer, aiming to work in the environmental, human rights, or criminal sector. She is always seeking to become further involved in the UofT community, currently holding the positions of Co-Founder and President of the University of Toronto St. George Debate Club, and President of Unload Canada UofT for the 2021-2022 academic year. As art has always been one of her favourite pastimes, Maytal thoroughly enjoys expressing her thoughts on important issues through the use of mediums such as paints or charcoals. One of Maytal’s favourite hobbies is to practise botany through growing and learning about as many plants as possible. Through this hobby, Maytal has come to appreciate the Biophilia hypothesis, or the idea that humans have an innate fondness toward the natural world: a concept which she is passionate about researching further. Maytal is similarly passionate about reconstructing the culture at UofT – shifting the focus away from attaining the highest GPA to concentrating on the betterment of mental wellbeing. Destiny Mae (she/her) Destiny Mae is a fourth-year undergraduate student, studying Sociology and Critical Studies in Equity and Solidary at the St. George Campus. Destiny is an arts-focused community educator. Since she was a preteen, Destiny has been and continues to commit herself and her time to any opportunity to reclaim space, community, and the voices of Black-identifying and racialized students within Tkaronto schools. You can find more of her work on her Instagram page: @destiny27mae. Raluca Geampana (she/her) Raluca Geampana is in her third-year of undergraduate studies at the University of Toronto, majoring in Equity Studies and Urban Studies. She is interested in socio-cultural and political theories involving anti-colonial, anti-racist, and feminist perspectives, and how they inform community organizing and the construction of urban space. She has worked as a scribe and reader for Accommodated Testing Services (ATS) on campus, fundraised for CAMH and Women’s College Hospital through Public Outreach, a nonprofit, as well as being a presenter and office hour volunteer for the Sexual Education Center (SEC) on campus. She is currently working on a piece about transit advocacy and accessibility that will be displayed on the Equity Studies Community Engaged Learning (CEL) course web page to draw future students to the program. She hopes to pursue a career in urban planning that challenges the systemic inequalities present in city infrastructure and governance. In her free time, she enjoys catching up on YouTube storytime videos and pop culture commentaries, practicing her makeup skills, and staying connected to her friends in this tumultuous time that we find ourselves in. Sara Durante (she/her) Sara Durante is a fourth-year undergraduate student at the University of Toronto, majoring in Environmental Studies and Women and Gender Studies. Sara has a passion for environmental justice, sustainability and social justice. She believes it is crucial to educate ourselves and each other about environmental and social justice issues facing our local and global communities. She loves to unite and inspire students and faculty in University of Toronto to give back to local communities in Toronto. This is Sara’s second year as Note Taking Secretary for Students for Shelters and she is delighted to be a part of its online magazine! Nour Hakim (she/her) Born in Montreal, raised in Jordan, and originally Palestinian, Nour Hakim is a second-year student at the University of Toronto pursuing a Psychology specialist and Sociology major. Over the course of her studies, she has discovered a particular interest in sex and gender, specifically through a sociological lens. The study of abnormal psychology, psychopathology, and different therapeutic measures are other areas of interest. Having grown up in a sexually restrictive country, the experiences that surround the particular environment shaped her interests and curiosities on these topics and the contexts in which they occur. After completing her undergraduate degree, she hopes to leverage her educational career and obtain an M.A and a PhD in psychology. Nour also shares a deep connection and love with animals, which she hopes to incorporate in her professional career, perhaps through the administration and/or study of animal assisted therapy (AAT).

Anthony Lenti (he/him) Anthony Lenti is a student, artist and educator based in Toronto, Canada. He is completing his undergraduate studies at the University of Toronto with a major in art history, as well as minors in sociology and visual studies. In the fall, Anthony will be returning to the University of Toronto to complete his Master of Teaching degree at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education. On weekends, Anthony teaches visual art classes at the McMichael Canadian Art Collection to children ages 6-12. In this role, he ensures that children are expressing themselves to their full potential, while learning about the deep history of Canadian and Indigenous art. Anthony’s art practice is considerably autonomous and usually takes on an intersectional approach. He explores the fluidity of societal issues and mental disorders across themes of gender and sexuality. This approach is applied to various traditional art practices such as drawing, painting, collage and printmaking. As a queer artist, Anthony challenges conventional notions of gender and mental illnesses in many of his artworks. He combines his passions for art and education in hopes to make viewers of his work aware of inequitable ideologies and social constructions. Hannah Benyamin (she/her) Hannah Benyamin is a fourth-year undergraduate student at the University of Toronto St. George Campus majoring in Critical Studies in Equity and Solidarity, with minors in English and History. Hannah is an Assyrian-Iranian woman who is passionate about mutual aid and solidarity work. She is the co-Founder and the co-President of Students for Shelters and is delighted to have her work featured in the pilot edition of the Illuminate Magazine. Ashley De Sousa (she/her) Ashley De Sousa is enrolled as a fourth-year student pursuing a Bachelor of Arts degree at the University of Toronto. Completing a double major in Sociology and Criminology and Sociolegal Studies, Ashley is interested in the field of social work and the sociology of mental health among students most at risk. Ashley is motivated to pursue a career where she can improve the mental health crisis through critical thinking and research. In addition to academics, Ashley dedicates her time to advocating for various social initiatives, including teaching conflict resolution skills to students, and developing and supporting accessible and affordable activities for individuals with disabilities. Ashley is able to do this through her involvement with organizations such as Peace by PEACE and Big Spoon Lil Spoon. As a passionate and motivated young leader with an urge to create social change, Ashley is dedicated to outreach opportunities that focus on youth's success in her community. Aasfi Sadeque (she/her) Aasfi Sadeque is a first-year student at UofT, studying in the faculty of Social Sciences with a major in Political Science. She was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh, moved to Canada with her family in 2011 and now calls Penticton, BC home. She loves to sew and make her own clothes and hopes to work in the industry in the future, making fashion more sustainable and ethical for all. Ana Brinkerhoff (she/her) Ana Brinkerhoff is a third-year undergraduate student at the University of Toronto pursuing a double major in Political Science and Sociology. Her interests include critical analyses of the state, parliamentary systems and state control, and understanding how the state's policies contribute to an unequitable society. She wishes to continue her education at a graduate level in Political Sociology. Ana lives in Toronto, ON, and is originally from Vancouver, BC. Leslie Mutoni (she/her) Leslie Mutoni is an Honours Bachelor of Science (H.B.Sc.) Candidate at the University of Toronto St. George pursuing a double major in Criminology and Psychology with a minor in Sociology. Originally born in the United States, she grew up across Africa and the Caribbean before moving to Canada to complete her higher education. Upon arrival in Toronto, she witnessed a level of homelessness that she had not seen before, which prompted her to investigate how this issue arose as well as what can be done to improve it. Apart from homelessness, her research interests include understanding police use of force through an intersectional lens, the causes and prevention of wrongful convictions, and the impact of solitary confinement on mental health.

Letter from the Editors

Community and Intersectionality The Neutral Eye Maytal Lazarovic

An Essay on Community Destiny Mae

Gender and Sexuality Review of Leslie Kern’s The Feminist City: A Field Guide - The Problem with Cities, and How We Perpetuate the Myth of ‘A Woman’s Place is the Home’ Raluca Geampana

Technical Difficulties Anthony Lenti

Gender and Sexualized Carceral Violence Against Indigenous Women and Girls in Canada Sara Durante

The Effect of Criminalisation on Female Sex Workers Nour Hakim

Legal Power: The Study of Sex Hannah Benyamin

Policy and Activism Mental Health Stigma at Post-Secondary Institutions: The Ultimate Deterrence from Seeking Mental Health Help Ashley De Sousa

Colourism Aasfi Sadeque

A Critical Analysis of Bill C-83: A Case of Charter Rights Violations and Systemic Racism through the Concealed and Ongoing use of Administrative Segregation Ana Brinkerhoff

Advocacy is not Activism Hannah Benyamin

Classism Armouries, What Are They Good For? Sara Durante

Inclusion & Exclusion: My Family Cottage as a Site of Leisure Hannah Benyamin

An Investigation of How Canada’s Affordability Crisis Contributed to the Rise of Homelessness and an Examination of Solutions to the Homelessness Crisis Leslie Mutoni

To the Man Hannah Benyamin

Transformative Healing and Justice A Self Portrait Destiny Mae

Dear Reader, Illuminate has been put together by the 2020-2021 Students for Shelters Executive Council. The name “Illuminate” was coined by Dhilini Hapuhennedige, an Executive Social Media Manager, to communicate our desire to shed light on important issues and topics in order to create a brighter tomorrow. We have seen Illuminate grow as a panel series, and now come together as an online magazine. The Students for Shelters Community is proud to take part in such advocacy. In August 2019 Students for Shelters was founded with a goal of reaching out to the local community by collecting under-donated items for local shelters. As a result of the COVID-19 Pandemic, many shelters are no longer collecting donations from the general public. To continue our mission we decided to educate the University of Toronto (UofT) community about local issues through Illuminate. The first part, Illuminate: The Panel Series was held throughout the school year. Our mission was to create a space for the UofT community and organizations around the Greater Toronto Area to discuss a range of ongoing social justice issues. We hope to have educated and created a space for reflection. Themes included Access to Education and Literacy, Homelessness and Poverty Alleviation, Food Insecurity, and the COVID-19 Pandemic. Following each panel donations were made to participating organizations with the goal of serving our community. The other half of Illuminate lives through this magazine. Illuminate: The Magazine was created along with the panel in pursuit of highlighting the perspectives of the UofT community. This magazine provides a more intimate take on social injustice. We encourage everyone to reflect on the perspectives of the student body highlighted in the wonderful pieces. Illuminate reveals that there are folks all around us who are writing, designing, and reflecting on inequalities on a regular basis. The Illuminate Project is a reflection of society and struggles. It is also meant to inspire the hope we feel when we come together. We hope you find Illuminate thought provoking and enjoy reading and viewing it as much as we enjoyed putting it together. Yours Truly, Illuminate Editors in Chief, Spring 2021

Community and Intersectionality

The Neutral Eye Maytal Lazarovic

Artist Statement

Image Description: The painting of the ‘neutral eye’ can be described as the image of an eye placed in the centre of a canvas, surrounded by leaves and flowers. The painting style can be determined as a form of abstract surrealism, created entirely with acrylic paints. The colours utilised in this painting range from purples, browns, pinks, reds, and greens. The emotion displayed through this painting is open to interpretation, meaning that each individual viewing the piece will have a distinct feeling from another.

an essay on community Destiny Mae .

Artist Statement

this is for my sisters who have picked me up from the rubble have scrubbed the dirt from my skin my sisters who sat me in front of the sunrise reminding me of its light this is for my sisters with shoulders that still ache from the tears i left on their skin my sisters whose mouths are saving graces and symbols of wisdom for my sisters that offered me a piece of them i thank my sisters for now i look in the mirror and see an intricate mosaic glittering in the light i thank my sisters for showing me love and light thank you my sisters

Gender and Sexuality

Review of Leslie Kern’s The Feminist City: A Field Guide - The Problem with Cities, and How We Perpetuate the Myth of ‘A Woman’s Place is the Home’ Raluca Geampana Abstract

Introduction The Feminist City: A Field Guide, is an important read for looking beyond city planning as being oriented to an ‘objective’ lens comprised of creating blueprints and construction plans for infrastructure. It develops the reader’s understanding of the historical context of socio-political aspects of planning that are tucked away from board meetings with developers. Leslie Kern first came to Toronto when she was starting university, identifying her past and current material conditions as being privileged, with the exception that she is a woman (Kern, 2019). Throughout the book, she uncovers an entire narrative preceded by the assumption that everyone’s experiences in the City are the experiences of a white, heterosexual, able-bodied man. She emphasizes throughout chapters her limitations of commentary on queerness, able-bodiedness, and racialized experiences, and the ways in which she may inadvertently reinforce and perpetuate oppressive viewpoints in her lived experienceThe book looks to re-imagine how cities are built, socially and materially, when one is given the chance to reconfigure the lens and see it through the eyes of the marginalized, and not solely in the objective male paradigm of city planning. Those with a similar social position of having white, able-bodied, and classed privilege will likely relate to and be empathic of Kern’s thoughtfully executed approach to topics she does not have personal lived experience with, such as being displaced by gentrification and policing.

Taking the reader through each chapter, Kern (2019) introduces us to a different characterization of everyday city life, using the lens of ‘the geography from within. This lens looks to de-naturalize the ways in which we come to take for granted lived bodily reactions, movements, and feelings. This is the basis for her introducing us to the discipline of feminist geography, which concerns itself with how the physical makeup of space holds and informs ways of enforcing gendered oppression. It’s when we take on this approach that we start to see inequalities emerge. These inequalities become apparent in the disdain city goers have of mothers taking care of their children in public spaces, to men being encouraged to ignore women’s disinterest in starting a conversation, to women’s fear of sexual assault while going out at night. In my writing, I want to explore how women are implicitly referred to as being the property of man, a notion continuing to be upheld from previous centuries, albeit in more subtle ways. To start with, we’ll look at the historical context where this notion comes from. Kern (2019) argues that the emergence of cities in Europe during the Industrial Revolution has highlighted how emphasized respectability was during that time period. Cities create disorder through mixing many diverse ethnicities together in the pursuit of industrial labor jobs. In visible minority having been historically disenfranchised and perceived as ‘primitive,’ and thus creating racial and class separation, it had been the white woman’s peril to mingle with these lower classes. The classism produced by separating ‘public women’ from ‘private women’ laid a framework for viewing white women as property, kept virtuous for the purpose of male romantic and sexual gratification and reproduction. This is to keep them in the private sphere of suburbia, away from city centers. It comes to be inextricably linked to creating a stable family lineage for the inheritance of wealth. In Feminist City: A Field Guide, Kern (2019) introduces to the reader how the paradigm of women being property is upheld in social and physical space today. She introduces how it constrains and prioritizes their physical movement inside and outside of the home, and in doing so, many amenities, experiences, and freedoms we associate with cities become a continuation of this paradigm. This poses considerable limitations on how Kern (2019) envisions what the feminist city should look like in order to address women's and other marginalized group's needs. Chapter 1 - City of Moms There is no better way to showcase the continuation of treatment of women as property than through the cultural legacy of the white picket fence. As mentioned in the chapter, post-war America looked to a gendered division of labor to help facilitate population growth and economic prosperity. To achieve this, women became homemakers and mothers, while men were the “breadwinners” of the family, which allowed for the suburban house to become a material representation of these presuposed social relations. By centering all of the domestic work around the home, while men would commute to the cities for their jobs, women became isolated. The limitation of this suburban-urban division had also been referred to in class, as had been ‘the problem with no name,’ which looks to address the unfufilledness of housewives relegated to childcare and housework. What we also see in attempting to break free of these limitations is the

use of racialized cheap labor, where women hire caretakers for the house, often women of color. Even at the time of ‘the problem with no name,’ there was a failure to recognize that this was not a lived reality for many working class, low income women (A. Zendel, personal communication, September 28, 2020). In the continuation of suburbia, Kern (2019) expresses to the reader the ways in which this architecture reinforces presumptions on the gendered division of labor, making it difficult for women to obtain economic freedom when their first priority is presumed to be unpaid care work. When they do obtain a source of income that affords them a comfortable living situation, it’s done in a stressful manner, in cities that don’t take into account the amenities needed to make domestic life easier to manage when both spouses work outside of the home. Kern (2019) takes note of the rise of gentrification and the subsequent rise in condos available on the market. These typically cater to the working professional, disregarding features surrounding domestic care that would make urban living easier for families of any kind. Care work is not taken seriously by planners, and the neoliberal mentality of relying on increasingly pricy services like daycare and recreational activities makes it difficult for families to even utilize these neighbourhoods, as precarity of work creates economic instability. Chapter 2 - City of Friends In the prospect of breaking patriarchal norms, the city is the perfect place of resistance to the traditional notions of marriage and family for women, facilitated via lifelong friendships with other women. In this chapter, Kern (2019) looks at pop culture surrounding how friendships between women are perceived, and turns it on its head for the reader to realize its revolutionary power. She looks at how teen movies of the ’80s oftentimes portrayed women’s friendships as secondary to romantic heterosexual partnerships, and how they would act as a temporary stand in for them. Ultimately, they are relationships that are thrown to the wayside in films, and the ubiquitous term of ‘catfights’ renders female-female interactions as ways in which they look to gain status over each other. Movies look to render women’s use of space as being the ‘appendage to a male partner,’ and the frequent use of girl’s bedrooms as backdrops create a reinforcement of their proper place being a quiet suburban home.These points are reiterated in detail to continue the narrative of the past chapter on women becoming isolated and restricted within the suburban home, and in reliance on male attention, to introduce the contrast that Kern (2019) presents. She cites a number of books and movies that explore the notion of women leaning upon one another to make use of the city at night, to thwart against the pervasive fear they have of being sexually assaulted. She talks about her time in university, where she would frequent ‘smoky bars and cafes,’ and how her friends would always get her to text them that she made it home safe. This check-in text message as an act of solidarity shows how women look out for each other, knowing full well the pervasive fear of men aggressively approaching them to flirt or to ask for sexual favors, and what may happen should they reject them.In challenging the presumption of being an appendage to men through forging longtime bonds between one another, women shake up the notion that marriage and the nuclear family — two partners and typically 1–2 children — is a necessary care model to depend on with more and more people delaying or altogether rejecting

them. When Kern (2019) shows how this social support encompasses so much of women’s self-growth and identity, she makes those pop-culture movies less of a fantasy and more of a reality. This means a rejection of catering to this traditional structure in favor of finding your own way with which to building a sense of self away from heterosexual partnerships and isolating family structures. Chapter 3 - City of One In the city, men seem unable to leave women alone. Kern (2019) highlights this fear of unwanted advances and how far they can go throughout the chapter, denying this idea of a past urban renaissance, meaning an idyllic city environment where acquaintances and friends alike freely interacted with each other prior to the creation of phones that keep people’s eyes glued to their screen. She mentions an article written by a pick up artist, who argues that women ignoring your advances because they have on headphones is not a reason to stop pursuing them, and that the pursuer should be persistent as eventually women will become receptive to them. This plays into the idea that women are always craving male attention. It is how rape culture becomes pervasive, where men are told to continue trying to get with women, because eventually they will say yes, or be scared into submission. What’s really striking in the chapter is the idea of eating alone and how it’s juxtaposed between males and females, where it is a sad image for the woman to do so but not for the man. Women live with constant fear of potential unwanted advances, and Kern (2019) makes light of this when she asks herself, ‘is this food place somewhere where I can feel comfortable alone?’ It’s also shocking to look at the restrictive manner in which women would explore a mall setting in 1800’s Paris. It was considered necessary to ‘feminize’ urban space, so as to make it appropriate for female consumers, and for men to escort them to these places. Otherwise, there was a concern that wealthy white women would run the risk of being mistaken for one of the lower classes. Women who seem to be in their own space, being alone and finding pleasure in their own company, are interrupted by comments of ‘cheer up’ and ‘smile more’ when they are straight faced, lost in their own thoughts. Kern (2019) translates this into what it really means, which is that women are presumed to be property, in such that their presence serves to appease men. Doing otherwise and asserting your sense of agency calls into question this presumption. Women’s embodiment of this sentiment, characterized by asking themselves whether or not they feel safe alone, comes to define the ways in which women are, to borrow Kern’s term, an “appendage to men.” Chapter 4 - City of Protest Even outside of the home, activist circles have reproduced the gendered division of labor previously discussed, which adds to the presumption that women’s work is not nearly as valued as men’s. In the 2008 York University labor union strike, Kern (2019) notes how quiet unassuming men of the faculty took on the task of confronting drivers at picket lines and chopping wood, as women and non-binary folks took on the ‘behind the scenes’ work of providing hot chocolate, keeping a good atmosphere with music and dance, consoling and caring

for anyone who’s injured, and administrative tasks. One also sees the contradiction of parenting and activism when she has to step away from the G20 protest, for fear that her daughter won’t get picked up at daycare because she may well get arrested. It also came as a shock that women in office were holding newborns as they cast votes or were pregnant while in office. Politics cannot render itself to adopting these traditionally ‘hidden away’ domestic and messy tasks of motherhood. In the traditional homemaker role this never would have been an issue, so now that it is, the two activities seem to contradict one another, as one had only been presumed to be for men. This shows an inability to view women as autonomous beings and political actors, while at the same time undervaluing their efforts in doing the care work that is expected of them because it is seen as illegitimate for being ‘feminine.’ Chapter 5 - City of Fear This chapter takes on an even more poignant tone than the others. We open with the discussion of girls being socialized to fear strangers and public spaces at night for fear of being plucked away by a stranger. Them being women makes them inherently vulnerable, and Kern (2019) goes on to talk about the ridiculous notion of irrationality in the phenomenon of ‘stranger danger.’ This is because our exposure to media stories of sexual violence reinforces this idea that no matter where we are, we face sexual threats as women, because we are sexualized and objectified by men. Crime reports miss a key finding in the social sciences, which is that domestic violence and sexual assault through people we know is far more common than through interactions with strangers. This is imposed as being social control for women, because we turn any criticality away from the private sphere of the home, keeping up appearances of safety through relying on a male partner. She also cites the underreporting of sexual violence in Philadelphia, in order to attract young people to up and coming neighbourhoods, including women. There is a major disregard in safety in the interest of drawing potential residents. With respect to this profit motive, the neo-liberal attempt to absolve women of this fear comes with its own consequences. This is because of an increased amount of policing that disproportionately affects marginalized and racialized folks, pushing them out of said neighbourhoods for the sake of white women’s comfort. It relates back to what we had seen happen in the Calgary police force, where police brutality wreaked havoc on Godfred (Downie, 2017-present). In disregarding his testimony of the police’s wrongdoing, the police union argued that the officer in question was acting out of self defence when he used force on Godfred. The erasure of voices serves to control disenfranchised groups for the sake of upholding a patriarchal and sexist capitalist order, and in doing so, facilitates the right to the city for the few who benefit from this order. Conclusion In the pervasive messages of women as property, women evidently lose a sense of autonomy that is separate from men, and this spills over into harming other marginalized groups through misplaced blame of social disintegration. Kern’s final chapter, calling for a look into the problematic realm of the private sphere ties in the themes we see throughout class, with this

being the privatization of space, over policing of minority groups, gentrification pushing out said groups, and the importance of recognizing multiple social locations to address economic inequality (Kern, 2019). The devaluing of minorities in the Michigan crisis of racial capitalism highlights how the erasure of black bodies and their right to the city shines a light on the prevalence of the profit motive as opposed to prioritizing human potential (Pulido, 2016). She also makes note of the gentrifying neighbourhoods that she sees throughout the book, and how they buy into the neo-liberal era of privatization, aiming to resolve problems around safety and providing amenities more suitable to an ‘up and coming’ community. Throughout all of these struggles to utilize urban space, Kern (2019) looks to movements that are already happening and that are addressing the oppressive forces that women face. The continuation of the pervasive homemaker role of women serves to maintain the nuclear family, as has been highlighted in each chapter. Through unpacking the historical context of how this has taken its form outside of the private sphere of the home, we can look to movements of social change and alternatives to the traditional structure in order to reclaim oppressive urban space and social structures. All to serve the needs of those marginalized and call into question our problematic male-dominated order.

Bibliography Downie, M (Director). (2017-present). Above the Law (Season 4, Episode 4) [TV series episode]. In G. Morrison, M.S. Francoeur, R. Uppal (Executive Producers), CBC Docs POV. Big Cedar Films; LTM Calgary; Lost Time Media. Kern, L. (2019). Feminist City: A Field Guide. Between the Lines Books. Pulido, L. (2016). Flint, environmental racism, and racial capitalism. Capitalism, Nature, Socialism, 27(3), 1-16. doi:10.1080/10455752.2016.1213013

Technical Difficulties Anthony Lenti

Artist Statement

Image Description: In the centre of the painting, a mask-like portrait stands as the focal point. The portrait has an unfinished quality and does not represent a typical human. This portrait is crying black tears that run down the face until they meet with the lips that showcase a smirk. Emotionally, the portrait shows dejection or a type of emptiness. Surrounding this portrait are three television glitches. One of these glitches stand on the right-hand side of the work, while the other two make up the majority of the left-hand side of the work. In the background of this painting are black stripes that trace the wood grain of the panel.

Bibliography Johnson, K.C., Deardorff, A.J., & Bockting, W.O. (2019). Invalidation experiences among non-binary adolescents. (57th ed., Vol. 2). The Journal of Sex Research. 10.1080/00224499.2019.1608422

Gender and Sexualized Carceral Violence Against Indigenous Women and Girls in Canada Sara Durante Abstract

The public demand to defund the police has extended across Canada, whereby local governments are receiving pressure to redirect police budgets to community social services and practice widespread police reform to end racialized violence. This paper argues for defunding the police by examining how historical and current acts of gendered and sexualized carceral violence have targeted Indigenous women and girls. This violence can result in the normalization of rising rates of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada. Moreover, this paper argues for defunding the police by exploring alternative approaches to the carceral state that focus on community intervention and healing as a strategy to ending carceral violence against Indigenous women and girls. In this paper, I aim to enter the conversation of defunding the police by analyzing the issue of gendered and sexualized carceral violence within Canada, rather than analyze the movement of the former, as a whole. While I recognize that gendered and sexualized carceral violence are not the only forms of violence Indigenous communities face on a daily basis, this paper specifically focuses on the issue of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls. I have chosen to focus on this matter, as this form of violence has reached a crisis level in Canada, and I want to explore the possible root causes of this phenomenon. Historical Context of Carceral State Violence: This section demonstrates that the historical context of settler colonialism must be considered to understand how gendered and sexualized carceral violence against Indigenous

women and girls is organized and normalized within Canada’s carceral state. The primary objective of settler colonialism is invading Indigenous territory to establish a society of racially exclusive colonists upon native land (Rustbelt Abolition Radio, 2017). Establishing a settler civilization requires colonists to replace and eliminate the Indigenous population by encouraging the ongoing reproduction of a homogenous settler society (Rustbelt Abolition Radio, 2017). Moreover, colonists can mobilize overtly aggressive strategies to deny Indigenous sovereignty and erase their presence on the land; strategies include genocide and forced assimilation into the culture of the settler society through residential schools (Walia, 2014). The residential school system prevailed in Canada from the early 1830s to late 1990s, whereby approximately 150,000 Indigenous children were torn from their communities and forced to attend these schools (Human Rights Watch [HRW], 2013). While attending residential schools, Indigenous children were subject to physical, sexual and psychological abuse, as well as prohibited from practicing their culture and speaking their native languages (HRW, 2013). In addition, the Royal Canadian Mountain Police (RCMP) became a critical actor in the settler colonial project as they patrolled the North Western territories being controlled by colonial law (Palmater, 2016; Dhoot, 2020). For example, in 1920, the RCMP were actively participating in the residential school system by ensuring that Indigenous children attended schools, as their presence was required by law (HRW, 2013). These officers forcefully removed children from their communities – often without the knowledge of their families – and transported them to residential schools, where they experienced physical and sexual abuse (Dhoot, 2020). The RCMP’s involvement in the residential school system demonstrates that this carceral institution is a central actor in gendered and sexualized violence against Indigenous people (Dhoot, 2020). Hence, the legacy of the Canadian residential school system – established within the historical context of settler colonialism – must be considered to understand how the RCMP’s participation in this system has normalized gendered and sexualized violence against Indigenous women and girls in the present (HRW, 2013). This can be seen in the rising rates of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada, whereby their disappearance is synonymous with RCMP officers removing Indigenous children from their families and transporting them to residential schools. In both cases, the erasure of Indigenous presence on their land allows the colonial state to eradicate Indigenous sovereignty, exploit natural resources and reproduce a racially homogenous society – fulfilling the primary objectives of settler colonialism (Rustbelt Abolition Radio, 2017). Furthermore, Palmater (2016) highlights how Indigenous women and girls are targets of gendered and sexualized carceral violence because they are Indigenous and female. Their increased vulnerability to carceral and state violence is a result of their gendered and racialized identities interacting with dominant structures of settler colonialism, heteropatriarchy and capitalism (Palmater, 2016; Crenshaw, 1991). More so, they are frequently targeted due to their reproductive abilities which bring forth generations that impose sovereignty (Native Youth Sexual Health Network and Women’s Earth Alliance, 2016, p. 20). Hence, their mere presence in the settler colonial nation places them at risk of gendered and sexualized violence due to racism

and sexism that permeates carceral institutions of the state (Palmater, 2016). Therefore, gendered and sexualized violence targeting Indigenous women and girls represents a normalized racism that has existed throughout the residential school era and continues to pervade contemporary police practices that strive to eradicate Indigenous presence on the land (Palmater, 2016). This illustrates how the structure of settler colonialism continues to be present in contemporary times to allow the crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls to become an epidemic in Canada. The failure of the Canadian government to establish a publicized national inquiry that examines the root causes of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls exacerbates this form of violence, as seen through the legacy of residential schools, police violence and the ongoing structure of settler colonialism (Palmater, 2016). Consequently, Indigenous women and girls will continue to be abused without fear of prosecution (Palmater, 2016). This not only normalizes gendered and sexualized carceral violence within the state and general public, but also fulfills the settler colonial agenda of erasing Indigenous sovereignty over their lands. Critiquing Policing and the Framework of Criminalization: This section showcases that carceral feminist practices discourage defunding the police as it obscures systemic forms of gendered and sexualized police violence against Indigenous women and girls. In doing so, carceral feminists fail to end violence against women and exacerbate harm against the bodies meant to be protected. Victoria Law (2014) defines carceral feminism as a strain of feminism – commonly supported by white, middle-class feminists – that understand “increased policing, prosecution and imprisonment” as a solution to gendered and sexualized violence against women. However, this approach fails to acknowledge that carceral institutions of the state (i.e. police, prisons and laws) actively contribute and carry out violence against marginalized women (Law, 2014). Furthermore, it fails to examine how racial, sexual and gendered identities intersect with structures of racism and heteropatriarchy in the carceral state (Law, 2014; Crenshaw, 1991). This leads to cis and transgender racialized women becoming more vulnerable to violence than white women (Law, 2014; Crenshaw, 1991). Carceral feminist practices (i.e. over-policing and mass incarceration) rely on stigmatizing and criminalizing marginalized bodies to justify gendered and sexualized carceral violence. For example, the criminalization of Indigenous bodies is rooted in colonial histories that depict Indigenous women as “sexually depraved squaws” (Maynard, 2017, p. 142). This historical association criminalizes the mere presence of Indigenous women and girls in public spaces, as well as justifies gendered and sexualized violence against these bodies within contemporary police practices (Maynard, 2017). Additionally, these associations shift the blame of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls onto themselves (Maynard, 2017). This produces a victim-blaming narrative whereby Indigenous women and girls are framed as inherently at-risk of being trafficked, disappeared and murdered due to their sexual depravity, and thus, assumed participation in underground economies (i.e. prostitution) (Palmater, 2016; Maynard, 2017).

This narrative of victim-blaming can be seen in the case study of Tina Fontaine – a “15-year-old Anishinaabe girl from Sagkeeng First Nation” – who was murdered while under the protection of Winnipeg’s police, Child and Family Services and the provincial healthcare system (Palmater, 2018). In 2014, former Prime Minister Stephen Harper responded to Fontaine’s murder by framing the incident as a consequence of her Indigenous female identity (Palmater, 2016). In other words, Fontaine’s gender and racial identity made her inherently at-risk to gendered and sexualized violence from Indigenous men who are assumed to not respect Indigenous women and girls (Palmater, 2016). Rather than acknowledging Fontaine’s murder within the context of the raging crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls, Harper classified this tragedy as merely a criminal act of violence (Palmater, 2016). The framework of criminalization mobilized in Fontaine’s case study obscures systemic structures that create and maintain the vulnerability of Indigenous women and girls to gendered and sexualized carceral violence. For instance, Maynard (2015) emphasizes that state institutions actively perpetuate carceral violence by creating socio-economic inequalities (e.g. lack of safe housing, reduced welfare funding) that Indigenous communities in Canada must endure. This systemic marginalization places Indigenous women and girls at-risk of disappearance and murder, as well as increases their vulnerability to police and domestic violence (Maynard, 2015). Systematic marginalization increases the vulnerability of Indigenous women and girls to disappearance and carceral violence, as state institutions fail to intervene and protect them from such marginalization and violence (Maynard, 2017). This failure normalizes gendered and sexualized carceral violence against Indigenous women and girls, which advances the settler colonial project of erasing Indigenous presence on their land (Palmater, 2016). Harper’s criminalized response to Fontaine’s murder represents carceral feminism, as it fails to address these structural inequalities that directly contribute and exacerbate the various forms of violence faced by Indigenous women and girls (i.e. police and state violence) (Law, 2014). For example, Palmater (2018) emphasizes how Fontaine’s murder is not a result of Fontaine’s experience with drugs and alcohol or her stereotypical sexually depraved nature. Rather, her murder was carried out by structures of racism and sexism that infiltrate state institutions (e.g. Winnipeg police force) to normalize gendered and sexualized violence against Indigenous women and girls (Palmater, 2016). Hence, Fontaine’s death is on the hands of all levels of government and state institutions that failed to protect the lives they have vowed to keep safe (Palmater, 2018). Prior to her death, Fontaine was found in a car with a mature intoxicated man by Winnipeg police officers (Palmater, 2016). Rather than reporting her whereabouts and taking Fontaine into safety, the police officers abandoned her on site. In this situation, the Winnipeg police officers represent the legal guardians of Fontaine and are required to ensure her safety by enforcing “child protection laws” (Palmater, 2016, p. 261). However, the inability of these officers to protect Fontaine resulted in her needless death, as she was pulled from the Red River several days after coming into contact with the Winnipeg police (Palmater, 2016). Despite the failure to fulfil their legal obligations, the Winnipeg police officers have yet to be criminally

charged with the death of Fontaine (Palmater, 2016). This demonstrates how the framework of criminality fails to register police violence against Indigenous women and girls as a crime, but rather a consequence of poor training, cultural insensitivity and professional misconduct (Palmater, 2016). Consequently, state police officers enjoy a “high degree of impunity” and rarely face discipline for their criminal behaviors (Palmater, 2016, p. 275). This lack of accountability and prosecution of crimes committed by carceral institutions against Indigenous women and girls is rooted in structures of racism and settler colonialism that have little regard for the safety and well-being of Indigenous nations (Palmater, 2016). Hence, carceral feminism discourages defunding the police as it prevents the development of community-based strategies that can curb and end gendered and sexualized carceral violence (Law, 2014). In doing so, carceral feminism increases the reliance on “policing, prosecution and imprisonment” that further harms the bodies meant to be protected, as clearly demonstrated in the case study of Tina Fontaine (Law, 2014). Nonetheless, alternative strategies that contest carceral feminist practices are currently being exercised to end violence against Indigenous women and girls, which I will explore in the following section. Alternative Strategies to Ending Carceral Violence: This section showcases that establishing the political framework of transformative justice within Indigenous communities can be an effective strategy to combating gendered and sexualized carceral violence against Indigenous women and girls in Canada. Transformative justice is concerned with responding to violence, in ways that do not perpetuate violence and prevent it from occurring in the future (Mingus, 2019). It responds to instances of violence without relying on the carceral state (i.e. police, prisons and laws), as these structures often perpetuate violence as a means to solve economic, social and political problems (Mingus, 2019). Instead, transformative justice interventions are organized by communities (e.g. economically impoverished communities, Indigenous and racialized communities) that experience carceral state violence (Mingus, 2019). These communities recognize their collective responsibility in establishing values that promote the healing process of carceral and domestic violence survivors (Mingus, 2019). Within settler colonial societies, Indigenous women and girls are targets of gendered and sexualized carceral violence, as seen in the growing rates of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada (Palacios, 2016). Hence, transformative justice interventions must combine knowledge of Indigenous women and girl activists to better represent victims of interpersonal and structural violence (Palacios, 2016). Moreover, incorporating Indigenous girl activism within transformative justice interventions can help Indigenous communities imagine the possibilities of freedom, without the presence of the carceral state (Palacios, 2016). Transformative justice must aim to dismantle structural conditions, such as capitalism, white supremacy and heteropatriarchy, that perpetuate and reinforce cycles of gendered and sexualized carceral violence (Mingus, 2019). In doing so, transformative justice interventions can achieve anti-violence within Indigenous communities to combat the crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls. For example, the Zapatista Army of National Liberation

(EZLN) (2019) achieved anti-violence by returning to past Indigenous practices and worldviews that promote freedom and peace in their communities, rather than relying on the Mexican carceral state to solve violence. The reclamation of past anti-violence practices in Canada’s Indigenous communities may solve gendered and sexualized carceral violence against Indigenous women and girls, as well as support the healing process of survivors (Mingus, 2019). This reclamation encourages defunding the police, as police budgets can be redirected to social programs that help Indigenous communities become self-reliant to promote their well-being and prevent violence from occurring in the future. Conclusion: The movement to defund the police calls on carceral institutions to acknowledge that they are inherently violent structures, as gendered and sexualized carceral violence historically and currently targets Indigenous women and girls. To combat the crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada, the systemic structures of settler colonialism, heteropatriarchy and capitalism should be dismantled. This undoing can support Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities in building a future that focuses on (I) long-term healing, (II) freedom from carceral violence and (III) equal access to socio-economic opportunities.

Bibliography Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241-1299. Dhoot, S. (2020, July 13). Gendered and Sexualized Carceral Violence in North America. [PowerPoint Slides]. Human Rights Watch (HRW). (2013). Those Who Take Us Away: Abusive Policing and Failures in Protection of Indigenous Women and Girls in Northern British Columbia, Canada. https://www.hrw.org/report/2013/02/13/those-who-take-us-away/abusive-policing-andfailures-protection-indigenous-women. Law, V. (2014, October 17). Against Carceral Feminism. Jacobin Magazine. https://www.jacobinmag.com/2014/10/against-carceral-feminism/ Maynard, R. (2015). Fighting Wrongs With Wrongs? How Canadian Anti-Trafficking Crusades Have Failed Sex Workers, Migrants and Indigenous Communities. Atlantis: Critical Studies in Gender, Culture & Social Justice, 38(2), 40-56. Maynard, R. (2017). Misogynoir in Canada: Punitive state practices and the devaluation of Black

women and gender-oppressed people. In Policing Black Lives: State Violence in Canada from Slavery to the Present (pp. 128-155). Fernwood Press. Mingus, M. (2019, January 10). Transformative Justice: A Brief Description. Blog/Site. https://leavingevidence.wordpress.com/2019/01/09/transformative-justice-a-brief-descript ion/ Native Youth Sexual Health Network and Women’s Alliance. (2016). “Violence on the Land is Violence on our Bodies”. Building an Indigenous Response to Environmental Violence, pp. 1-35. Palacios, L. (2016). “Ain’t No Justice... It’s Just Us”: Girls Organizing against Sexual and Carceral Violence. In C. Mitchell & C. Rentschler (Eds.), Girlhood and the Politics of Place (pp. 279-296). Berghahn Books. Palmater, P. (2016). Shining Light on the Dark Places: Addressing Police Racism and Sexualized Violence against Indigenous Women and Girls in the National Inquiry. Canadian Journal of Women and the Law, 28(2), 253-284. Palmater, P. (2018, February 25). Why Canada should stand trial for Tina Fontaine’s murder. NOW Magazine. https://nowtoronto.com/news/why-canada-should-stand-trial-for-tina-fontaine-murder/ Rustbelt Abolition Radio. (2019, December 11). Settler Colonialism and the Struggle for Abolition. https://rustbeltradio.org/2017/12/11/ep12/?fbclid=IwAR2efKwznFNsXl4KwdYP6qobnp LKyGUqtHGD8ZHqH-gZMCK9YZjewFLYs9Q Walia, H. (2014). What is Border Imperialism? In Undoing Border Imperialism (pp. 35-78). AK Press Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN). (2019, February 16). Letter from Zapatistas to Women Who Fight All Over the World. International Viewpoint. http://www.internationalviewpoint.org/spip.php?article5944

The Effect of Criminalisation on Female Sex Workers Nour Hakim Abstract

Introduction In most parts of the world, nearly all aspects of commercial sex are criminalised. As a result, sex workers, mainly women, are left with inadequate legal protection and security which exposes them to harsh circumstances. These workers are forced to compromise their health and safety in order to avoid criminal charges. For example, there was a recent case of violence on sex workers in Québec City in which a woman named Marylene Levesque was murdered by an already convicted murderer, who was allowed to meet with her as part of a “risk control management strategy” (Valiante, 2020). This sheds light on to the irregular and hypocritic prostitution laws in Canada, as well as other places around the world, which makes sex work more dangerous and life threatening (Valiante, 2020). Hence, the research question I have chosen to investigate is, “What is the impact of criminalization on sex workers?”. There is widespread research and evidence that demonstrates the negative outcomes that criminalisation has on the lives of sex workers. For example, there is a link between violence against sex workers and the negotiation of condom use, the selection of their clients and the types of services provided. Even the strict laws that surround third-party actors like managers and advertisers leave sex workers at a clear disadvantage when it comes to their health. Not only do these laws put the workers at risk of sexually transmitted infections (STIs), they also prevent them from having access to STI prevention and sexual health information through the criminalisation of these third parties. Additionally, criminalisation puts a strain on sex workers’

daily realities and intimate relationships due to their inability to cohabit with people. Finally, there is strong evidence suggesting that alternative models of governance, which take a less aggressive approach to prostitution, result in a significant decrease in violence (Meulen, 2012). From this, it is clear that the main driving force of violence against sex workers is the strict limits placed on how they perform their jobs and how easily they can access better treatment. Argument One of the most documented effects of criminalisation on the lives of sex workers is the unavoidable exploitation and lack of legal protection that they face from clients and law enforcement officials. This largely unaddressed reality of violence against them creates a constant fear and need to compromise their safety, thereby making it difficult to negotiate safe sex practices (e.g. condom use), the types of services they wish to provide and finally, to whom they want to provide these services. For example, these women may be coerced by exploitative clients to engage in unpaid, unprotected, and risky sexual interactions. This demonstrates a link between violence towards sex workers and condom use, which further exhibits the notion hat sex worker populations are more vulnerable to sexually transmitted infections (STIs) compared to the general population. Moreover, due to the fact that sanctions against prostitution are more often directed towards workers rather than clients, violence is maintained by social and legal factors. For example, laws in North America, Central Asia, and Central Europe ban brothels and communication about prostitution in public areas (e.g. solicitation). In areas like these, where law enforcement officials are not motivated to protect the workers, the exposure to violence is something of the ordinary to them. Their daily lives consist of forced confinement, verbal harassment, physical assault, and even rape. In fact, a 2009 survey with sex workers in Central and Eastern Europe and Central Asia, found that 37% reported being sexually assaulted by the police and 42% reported being physically abused by them. This type of harsh criminalisation gives police officials the ability to prosecute them, resulting in street-based workers moving to rural and industrial areas where they are less likely to be prosecuted. These areas, however, are much more dangerous and, as previously mentioned, do not allow for the negotiation of safer practices (Shannon, 2010). Another major implication whichis often overlooked is the impact of strict laws that surround third-party actors on sex workers. Some countries such as France, Ireland, and England have recently adopted “Nordic Models,” where sex buyers and third parties are criminalised, as opposed to the workers themselves, in an attempt to protect women. These third parties, which include managers, receptionists, and advertisers are involved in commercial sex transactions and heavily contribute to the safety of sex workers. This enforcement-based approach negatively influences the physical and mental health of sex workers, while stripping them of their basic human rights. There is some evidence that managerial support for sex education and condom use results in a significant reduction of HIV risk. Despite this finding, the policing of third-party actors is the most widely implemented legislative approach. In a 2016 interview with sex workers in Vancouver, many noted that they have given up using protection to eliminate any evidence of the act (Anderson, 2016). Moreover, when sex workers choose to use protection,

harsh limits are imposed on access to condoms by managers and business owners, by prohibiting the delivery of free condoms and other forms of sexual health safeguards (Anderson, 2016). Managers and owners in non-criminalised professions are responsible for maintaining a safe workplace and providing the necessities to their employees. However, the criminalisation of the sex industry demotivates them from doing so because they could be faced with considerable legal risks for providing supplies like condoms and lubricant. In addition to sex workers’ physical health and safety, their criminalisation also negatively impacts their ability to cohabit with housemates, live regular daily realities, and foster intimate relationships. Although the direct exchange of commercial sex is not illegal in Canada, the harsh policing surrounding the profession criminalises sex workers’ personal and business relationships. These outcomes are related to a single prostitution related offence, from a total of four, in the Criminal Code: “the criminalization of procuring, living on the avails, cohabiting, and gaining or aiding a person to engage in prostitution (section 212)” (Meulen, 2010). The procuring legislation stipulates that a partner, family member, friend, or housemate could be prosecuted simply by living with or “habitually in company” of a sex worker, especially if the sex workers’ earnings pay for rent and household necessities. This is known as “living off the avails” and is considered to be an indictable offence, even for a sex worker’s child who is being supported by the sex-work earnings. It is clear that these laws undermine sex workers’ well-being and ability to enter long-term relationships because doing so could potentially result in their partner being prosecuted for it, in the case that they live together in the same household. Maria Belen, a decriminalisation advocate, was critical of this law for the ways in which it increases stigma and discrimination against sex workers (Meulen, 2010). No other workers are restricted from cohabiting, nor are they told how they can spend their money. This infringes on their basic rights to privacy, and generates the idea that not everyone wants to, nor can they afford to, live alone especially in urban cities like Toronto. Some researchers areeven critical of the procuring legislation being a self-fulfilling prophecy; the stigma towards individuals (mainly men) in relationships with sex workers prevents the development of a healthy relationship (Meulen, 2010). Violence in sex work is unpreventable and, instead, depends on particular dynamics, one of which includes its relationship to the state and the laws that govern the profession. Research on alternative models of governance around the world that work to criminalise the buyers, as opposed to the harsh criminalisation of sex workers, clarify the relationship between levels of violence and the mode of governance. For example, Brents and Hausbeck (2005) conducted an interview with sex workers, brothel owners and policy makers in Las Vegas, Nevada to investigate this exact relationship. It was found that only one in 40 sex workers reported experiencing violence at work, suggesting that the official regulation and bureaucratization of brothels decreases violence. Additionally, empirical research has supported the claim that European legal systems like Germany’s and the Netherlands’ have an exemplary safety record due to managed street sex-work zones and the ability to solicit clients under legal protection (Brents, 2005). These methods of governance have resulted in a near total reduction of violence

toward sex workers from managers and clients. Hence, there is clear global evidence that prohibition laws promote risk for sex workers and are the main drivers for determining safety outcomes. These alternative models of control hold great potential for eliminating the violence that has become an everyday reality for most workers and labelling commercial sex as a legitimate occupation (Sarat, 2016). Discussion of the current approach to sex work The continuous notion that women need to be protected is grounded in a sexist view of women as “less capable.” It is clear that the more a woman deviates from what is considered “normal” at that time and place, the more she is seen as weak and in need of protection. Perhaps women exercise their right to agency in their choice to join the field. In fact, the exact definition of sex work includes the “consensual transaction between adults” (Tatham, 2020). Everyday society as a whole contributes to the social control of women’s bodies, feeding into the idea that women are “at the heart of the prostitution problem” (Wahab, 2002). The violence, intense stigma, and discrimination that has become the norm for sex workers is manifested by cultural and religious taboos that have been passed on from one generation to the next through life-long socialisation. Hence, the negative experiences that sex workers face are maintained by factors like social norms and social control. An example of the formal social control of prostitution are reformers of the mid-19th century who were critical of the state for the ways in which it governed female offenders, especially those charged with sexual misconduct. The moral reformers contributed to the creation of female penitentiaries which involved long-term incarceration and supervised reformation through moral education and industrial training. Despite their effort to decrease the size and scope of the justice system, this movement resulted in quite the opposite and expanded to include women of a greater age range and more offences. The purpose of these penitentiaries was not to incarcerate female felons, but it was targeted toward women who were labelled as prostitutes. Hellerstein et al. (1999) contended that prostitutes symbolise women who dared to defy already established gender norms in society. These prisons were created in an attempt to socialise members of the community into behaving in a socially acceptable manner (Mahood, 1990). Although legislative approaches have varied over time and across different contexts, current policing strategies, such as making the purchase of sexual services illegal, reproduce the negative outcomes of the old laws. The goal of these laws was to reduce the demand and stop prostitution, rather than to improve the health and safety concerns of sex workers. It is clear that without a total transformation of the way in which sex work is conceptualised in society, workplace and safety improvements will be almost impossible. This is because of how prostitution is socially constructed directly affects how it is regulated and controlled. Hence, the current social conception of prostitution in the majority of the world needs to be converted from something that has major stigma associated with it, to acknowledging it as a legitimate profession which recognizes that sex is work. Recognising someone as a sex worker automatically should encourage soceity to separate the person from the occupation and acknowledge that sex workers’ personal identities are not defined by their jobs. Sexual norms

encompass many different types of behaviours, some of which are prohibited by the law and others which attract negative attention or informal social control. In this case, the act of prostitution attracts both formal and informal social control, whereby both rigid legal laws and socially constructed norms are in place against the profession. Although these norms vary over time and place, the negative perception of sex work is heavily apparent all around the world and in most societies. These social systems are brought about within religious and cultural systems which aim to regulate gender, class, and family powers within society. Consequently, social representations of female sexuality and sexual behaviours are embedded in a society that is saturated with power relations of gender and class. For example, “whore stigma” has been conceptualised as a socially acceptable way to shame sex workers, specifically women, for deviating from conventional gender norms (Meulen, 2012). This demonstrates the significant impact that the criminalisation of sex work has on society and the way in which it shapes our understanding of what is considered to be deviant behaviour. Conclusion Overall, it is clear that the harsh policing that surrounds sex workers is a critical human rights and public health issue. The criminalisation of sex work compromises the safety and health of the workers. It is the main driving force for the violence, harsh stigma, interruption to personal relationships, and a lack of access to sexual health prevention measures. All of these factors are interrelated in the sense that reducing the risk of violence facilitates more consistent condom use which in turn, reduces their risk of STIs. Moreover, the removal of such penalties quickly eliminates the discrimination and social stigma that sex workers are forced to deal with. An example of this is the case of Marylene Levesque, which sheds light on the hypocrisy of the way in which prostitution laws are enforced, leaving women in a state of vulnerability. Hence, this research lends support to the total decriminalisation of the profession, including sanctions targeted towards third party actors, which will ensure that they have complete access to health, safety, and human rights. This call for evidence-based action is critical in order to eliminate the negative outcomes that harsh and Nordic models of governance have led to. For example, creating a “safe space” like drop-in centres and clinics for sex workers to do their work is a widely implemented approach. The process of removing prostitution related offences from some criminal codes which have not yet done so may take many years. Additionally, although the criminal code was amended in 2014 in Canada to include buying sexual services an offence, the male demand for prostitution and entitlement to women’s bodies is still heavily apparent. This type of male sexual entitlement is what underlies sexual assault, sexual harassment, and femicide. The first step that we can all take as members of society is recognising that sex is work, often involving emotional labour, and that it deserves the same basic workplace protections as all other professions.

Bibliography Anderson, S. et al. 2016. “Condoms and Sexual Health Education as Evidence: Impact of Criminalization of in-Call Venues and Managers on Migrant Sex Workers Access to HIV/STI Prevention in a Canadian Setting.” BMC International Health and Human Rights 16(1)1–10. Mahood, Linda. 1990. “THE MAGDALENE’S FRIEND: Prostitution and Social Control in Glasgow, 1869-1890”. University of Glasgow, Scotland 13:49–61. Meulen, Emily Van Der. 2010. “Ten Illegal Lives, Loves, And Work: How the Criminalisation of Procuring Affects Sex Workers in Canada.” Wagadu 8:217–240. Meulen, Emily Van Der. 2012. “When Sex is Work: Organizing for Labour Rights and Protections.” AU Press (69):147–167 Sarat, Austin, Katie Hail-Jares, Chrysanthi S. Leon, and Corey S. Shdaimah. 2016. Special Issue: Problematizing Prostitution: Critical Research and Scholarship. Bingley, UK: Emerald Group Publishing Limited. Shannon, Kate. 2010. “Violence, Condom Negotiation, and HIV/STI Risk Among Sex Workers.” Jama 304(5):573–574. Tatham, Chris. 2020. “Sexuality”. SOC212 Crime and Deviance. June 3rd. Valiante, Giuseppe. 2020. “Murder of sex worker exposes Canada's hypocrisy on prostitution: advocate.” CTV News, February 16. Retrieved May 17, 2020 (https://montreal.ctvnews.ca/murder-of-sex-worker-exposes-canada-s-hypocrisy-on-prost itution-advocate-1.4814174) Wahab, Stephanie. 2002. “"For Their Own Good?": Sex work, social control and social workers, a historical perspective.” The Journal of Sociology and Social Welfare (29)4:39–54.

Legal Power: The Study of Sex Hannah Benyamin Abstract

Sexuality means different things at different times. However, the study of sex has been controlled by dominant legal discourse, which has possessed it to become a study which operates through power. In order to present this argument, I will reference themes such as the enforcement of heteronormativity and the development of the criminal sexual psychopath. I will consider how these themes are directly related to the relationships institutional powers produce, such as the concept of identity and the way in which it reproduces discrimination. In this paper, I will reference Steven Maynard’s “On the Case of the Case: The Emergence of the Homosexual as a Case History in Early-Twentieth Century Ontario,” Elise Chenier’s “The Criminal Sexual Psychopath in Canada: Sex, Psychiatry, and the Law at Mid-Century,” and Ann Laura Stoler’s “Carnal Knowledge and Imperial Power: Gender, Race, and Morality in Colonial Asia.” Discussing the relationship between sex and power, especially that which was created through legal discourse, is essential for acknowledging that identity is a product of dominant discourse which continues to be operated by legal systems, and is constantly imposed on what constitutes national culture. The enforcement of heteronormativity is an acclamation of discriminatory legal practice. Specifically, Maynard explores that in the early twentieth century, men began being charged for homosexual “offences,” which turned their bodies into staged “cases” (2012, p. 154). This provides a means of understanding the legal power which objectifies homosexuality as an “offensive” act. The further implications of bodies becoming cases removes individual identity from a being and creates a culturally disruptive phenomenon. Legal discourse has intrinsically reflected oppressive standards onto society and societal behavior, which steadily projects that homosexual people, behaviour, and identity are the ‘other’; the other being ruled out by national

identity as strangers and unequals. Ultimately, this affected the way Canadians came to view mental health, as homosexual crimes were known as “deviant behaviour” and an “impulsive disease” (Chenier, 2012, p. 172). The corroboration of homosexuality as a mental illness reinforces heteronormative discrimination through the implications that sexual identity is something which should be controlled by the state. This implication resonates that there is a correct way to identify. The underlying prejudice in the matter is that the nation state begins to express colonial ideals which create a power differential, much similar to those which Stoler examines with gender, that blur lines to re-establish power (Stoler, 1996, p. 219). The enforcement of heteronormative culture through the legal system coextends the usage of heteronormativity in the medical field. Maynard determined that doctors had an impact on homosexuals’ lives by being fundamental patrons that would decide whether people would be tried in court or not (2012, p. 155). This issues the ability for medical practitioners to help control the legal field. The position doctors held also indicates authority, proposing that they insinuate fear to those whose identity is challenged by the law. Additionally, a doctor’s “mental examination” of a patient influenced their sentence due to “links being established among criminality, insanity and homosexuality,” which escalated medical and legal regulations, such as the establishment of the sexual-psychopath legislation (Maynard, 2012, pp. 155-156). The relationship shared by the medical and legal fields appropriates the portrayal of homosexuality as seemingly ill. By doing so, legislation then identifies sexuality as standardized, imposing systemically oppressive factors into existence. For example, it negotiates the relationship between sexual identity and social status by implying that being engaged in certain behaviours could alter professional and personal positions held by an individual. Many of these alterations of an individual are concerned with the difference between freedom and confinement. Again, outing people creates a space where challenging heteronormativity does not exist, and where homosexuality needs to be either punished or treated. Legal medical examinations of homosexual people in efforts of being tried in court are practices which are subject to creating identity violence to be targeted towards that specific community. Chenier argues that the creation of the criminal sexual-psychopath was part of an assimilative process, which was a part of the evolutionary development of legally “regulating and assessing social behaviour and moral responsibility” (Chenier, 2012, p. 183). For many, talk about sex was controversial (Chenier, 2012, p. 181). These controversies were directed towards the various interpretations people had of impressionable identity. To look at sex as a moral responsibility challenges identity and creates it to be a legal matter which can arbitrarily rule over a person’s lifestyle. Regulating sex presents the idea which encompasses sex as something that should not be controlled by individual pleasures, yet something that should be maintained by individuals. Thus, once an individual does not cooperate with dominant legal disciplines, they will be given repercussions. Steven Maynard approaches Ontario case-histories as a way in which legal and medical practices would compromise to create legal testimony on patients (2012, pp. 158-159). More so, the methodologies used in examining patients during this time was through case study

approaches in order to identify ‘subjective and objective symptoms of insanity,’ where patients were examined based on familial history, their sexual past, and factors such as intelligence tests used to interpret their ‘mental age’ (Maynard, 2012, p. 160). Intelligence tests were subjective, as “the point was to identify the abnormal” (Maynard, 2012, p. 164). There is already an implied dominant discourse in this statement because the medical and legal practitioners were responding to traits which did not suit their legal understanding of what personhood looks like. The central focus of these cases worked to detain and police homosexual behaviour through the rapid urbanization period (Maynard, 2012, pp. 162-163). During examinations, doctors would have to create cases for their patients, but these cases opened up spaces for patients to “resist doctors’ efforts to pathologize them.” However, it is important to remember that doctors would construct illnesses and identities for these men (Maynard, 2012, p. 163). The legal and medical construction of identity is what would be used to affect a man’s life. Although Maynard argues that many representations of their sexual behaviours were inaccurate, he also says that there were and still are repercussions because of this (Maynard, 2012, p. 164). Therefore, examining these interventions in terms of space and geographic areas is critical to acknowledge the outcomes imposed through such adjudications. Examinations took place in “jail cell[s], doctor’s office[s], clinic[s] or even the accused’s home” (Maynard, 2012, p. 165). Besides being examined in a jail cell, which already produces advantages of dominant legal discourse, the other locations are meant to be sites of healing and relaxation. The abuse of these spaces challenges the hegemonic legal framework surrounding identity discourse – to be labelled and challenged in comparably secure areas is demoralizing. These situational choices promote the idea of the criminal sexual-psychopath through the suspicion that crime and degeneration against national value begins in one's household. The development of the criminal sexual psychopath abolishes personal sentiments of identity and behaviour. Chenier identifies the sexual psychopath as “frequently associated with sexual immorality” and an “emergent” figure who needs help as opposed to legal punishment (2012, p. 173). The concept of immorality begs the figure of the “sexual psychopath” to be wrong in nature and transcendent to society. The sexual psychopath was constructed as a “dangerous male sex pervert” with unruly compulsions which could not be stopped unless treated professionally through medical procedure or legal reparations (Chenier, 2012, p. 173). Explicitly labelling homosexual behaviours as dangerous changes the meaning behind maintaining a positive national identity as welcoming, accepting, and humanistic. Likewise, sexual psychopathy was inherently aimed at the LGBTQ+ community; violent acts performed by men against women were not acknowledged as psychopathy since they were presumed as normal behaviour (Chenier, 2012, p. 173). Intrinsically, this parallels Stoler’s claim that institutional powers passing rape laws constitute that women are subject to violence (1996, pp. 249-251). Similar to both inclinations, the law is the dominant producer of this fear, thus, through the creation of the sexual psychopath, legislative practices have organized and categorized society by setting apart those who do not cultivate quintessential criterion. The purposeful target onto these communities is because their identity disrupted traditional familial structures and impaired

dominant principles of preserving a heteronormative social order. In 1948, Canada introduced the legislation of the criminal sexual psychopath. This brought about widespread panic that sex crimes were on the rise against children (Chenier, 2012, pp. 174-177). However, once the medicalization of sexuality was more heavily enforced, the panic surrounding sex crimes against children shifted. This shift in moral panic questions national identity because of the unjust behaviour exemplified through supplementary identity classification and prejudice. In this paper, I have argued that the study of sex has been dominated by legal power for hundreds of years. The legal power that has dominated this field has conceptualized what society considers ‘normal’ and has also ostracized homosexuality. The study of sex is important because it brings about concepts such as identity. The perception of identity has been altered by legal dominant discourse, and in turn, has negatively affected homosexuals and other members of the LGBTQ+ communities. This discourse has ultimately altered the way in which sexual identity is viewed today – there are still implicit standards of what model citizens manifest in the direction of. Key authors, such as Steven Maynard, Elise Chenier, and Ann Laura Stoler, recognize that the study of sex encompasses power because of established dominant ideals and the constant reinforcement of heteronormative discourse. These authors analyze the connection between sex and its surrounding legal discourse as institutionalized oppressions which attack homosexuals, inevitably making the law dominate the study of sex and forming identity ideals to produce a specific version of nationalism.

Bibliography Chenier, E. (2012). “The Criminal Sexual Psychopath in Canada: Sex, Psychiatry, and the Law at Mid-Century”. Queerly Canadian, edited by Maureen FitzGerald & Scott Rayter, Canadian Scholars Press, 171-190. Maynard, S. (2012). “On the Case of the Case: The Emergence of the Homosexual as a Case History in Early-Twentieth Century Ontario”. Queerly Canadian, edited by Maureen FitzGerald & Scott Rayter, Canadian Scholars Press, 153-170. Stoler, A. (1996). “Carnal Knowledge and Imperial Power: Gender, Race, and Morality in Colonial Asia”. Feminism and History, Oxford University Press, 209-266.

Policy and Activism

Mental Health Stigma at Post-Secondary Institutions: The Ultimate Deterrence from Seeking Mental Health Help Ashley De Sousa Abstract

Introduction A 2017 survey done by Ontario Universities found that mental health disabilities identified in students enrolled in post-secondary institutions have more than doubled over the past five years. While mental health is increasing among post-secondary students, public stigma continues to operate within post-secondary institutions to deter students from seeking mental health help on campus. The stigma surrounding mental health involves discrimination against individuals faced with mental illness and can dangerously impact how individuals view their self-worth. Stigma is often reproduced when mental health literacy is unavailable, enabling the spread of uninformed assumptions on poor mental health symptoms and who can experience it. The process of students taking the needed steps to seek mental health help is influenced by personal and environmental factors, which shape a student's perception, trust, and the likelihood of utilizing mental health services. To better support students' journey into accessing mental health help, how can post-secondary institutions address and minimize school-wide stigma in an appropriate and relevant way for all student groups? Through a campus-implemented mental literacy approach, diverse mental health treatment options, and intersectional inclusivity awareness, post-secondary institutions can begin to reduce stigma around campus.

Campus Approaches to Addressing Mental Health Public stigma strongly impacts help-seeking behaviour due to the negative association with school-level stigma, leading to the underreporting of mental health conditions (Gaddis, Ramirez, & Hernandez, 2018). Approaches that rely on reducing stigma among peers within the local environment are disappointing and surface level. Anti-stigma campaigns attempt to spread awareness of the prevalence of mental health among post-secondary students, often branded with mental health statistics and a call to reduce the shame around opening up about student struggles. These campaigns can be found decorated around campus in high traffic student areas to create an atmosphere of support through acknowledgement. While the reliance on anti-stigma campaigns may produce compelling facts about the realities of living with mental illness, such as the symptoms of high stress and changes in mood and sleep that is often experienced in private, trusting that individuals will acknowledge the campaign and change their perceptions independently relies on hope (Gaddis, Ramirez, & Hernandez, 2018). While anti-stigma campaigns and protest efforts alone do not reduce stigma, materials that convey the facts and statistics about mental health are most beneficial when working alongside institutional change (Smith & Applegate, 2018). To expand mental health resources to students across campus, the University of Toronto has taken approaches that do little to reduce stigma and instead further turn students away by providing them with unsatisfactory and inconsiderate experiences of mental health help. Navi, an anonymous online chat service with a virtual agent, provides contact information to relevant programs based on the information students share and submit (Kalvapalle, 2020). While Navi attempts to make the process of finding services and resources on campus more straightforward, it fails to address the issue of whether the University of Toronto has services that meet all students' needs or if current services offered are efficient. Higher education institutions further increase the stigma surrounding mental health for minority students by keeping the mental health aspects of institutional life hidden and stratified. When there is a standardized norm in higher education institutions that exclude minority populations, simply reorganizing the inadequate services that have always been offered does not address the lack of diverse services for racialized groups but reproduces the white, standardized norm, further stigmatizing students who fall outside of that category (Iacovino & Sherman, 2016). Merely repackaging the same mental health resources does not break down the public stigma surrounding mental health, but instead pushes help-seeking behaviours onto individual students to create an isolating and dehumanizing experience. Mental Health Literacy The inadequate resources from post-secondary institutions and the public stigma surrounding mental health fail to recognize the student mental health crisis and fuels the stigmatization and labelling of students. When institutions and their staff are unable to offer students support and are ill-equipped to recognize and acknowledge struggling students, it creates further barriers in the path to gaining help. Mental health literacy ensures that staff have

foundational knowledge about mental health issues to best aid students. As gatekeepers to connect students to different resources and places to get help when needed, being educated on mental health also lessens the stigma (Gulliver, Farrer, Bennett & Griffiths, 2019). While gatekeeping is not an explicit term in their contract, professors and teaching staff are in notable positions to continually update their knowledge and responses to noticing and handling a student in crisis. Merely talking about anti-stigma does very little to reduce the thoughts and attitudes that have become embedded within institutions, nor does it give into the foundational issues of spreading mental health literacy among campus. If a professor encounters a student who reveals their struggle, there seems to be a resistance from faculty to say they are not trained and therefore should not be engaging in this role. Teaching staff that find themselves disconnected becomes a source of stress exposure where criticism can negatively affect student mental health (Turner & Turner, 2013). Ensuring that interventions are created that keep teaching staff up to date with mental health literacy to share their knowledge with students can help break down stigma and increase student mental health disclosure. Through sensitivity training, increased resources, overall higher mental health literacy, and equity inclusion diversions within the institution's fabric, professors and teaching staff can become active social support. An individual's knowledge of mental health can be a good determinant of how they perceive their mental state and the options for seeking help. Interventions must be conducted to improve mental health literacy among students and staff, especially among male college students and those within STEM programs who experience much lower mental health literacy on average compared to students within social science and behavioural science programs whose curriculum discuss individuals' wellbeing (Gulliver et al., 2019). When societal pressures of male strength and femininity are combined with intensive education programs that often lack discussions on individuals' wellbeing. As they view the process of seeking mental health assistance as a display of weakness and direct opposition to the cultural norm of male resilience, students can find themselves unaware of where to turn for help (Rafal, Gatto & DeBate, 2018). Increasing mental health knowledge across disciplines can improve student's academic success by reducing the choices students often feel they must make that ultimately puts their grades before their mental health. Skipping on social breaks or meals, shortening their hours of sleep, and neglecting their overall mental health should not be decisions students feel they have to make to obtain higher marks. By creating an empathetic atmosphere that normalizes mental health and stress, post-secondary institutions can welcome a conversation of knowing when to ask, offer, and recognize help. Thus, by increasing mental health literacy across disciplines, students can facilitate conversations with professors about the stress levels they face and address the need to relax the expectations within programs. Through cooperation between students and staff, program expectations should move towards acknowledging the importance of maintaining mental wellness as a part of achieving academic success.

Diversifying Mental Health Treatment Diverse mental health treatment options must be made available to best support students' mental health recovery to reduce the meso-level stigma surrounding mental health. When resources are underfunded and sparse, students cannot obtain the level of help they need and are left searching on their own for adequate resources that best fit their position. Failing to recognize the specific gender, race, and cross-cultural differences in mental health help, post-secondary institutions leave a population of students without resources. To explain, minority groups are oftentimes unable to access mental health resources which are pertinent to their situations, such as generational trauma or socioeconomic status; leaving them with the impression that their situations are not acknowledged, which further stigmatizes their experiences (Link & Phelan, 2013). Representation, accessibility, and availability are required to address cultural competencies, community, and mental health impact on racialized students. When there is already a standardized norm within the institution's mental health resources, it excludes other subpopulations of racialized people. Indigenous students' mental health within post-secondary institutions has continuously been pushed to the margins, lacking culturally sensitive programming that addresses the generational trauma that affects a student's mental health. It is evident that the one-size-fits-all approach to mental health support does not work, but why is it that Indigenous students, among other radicalized groups, are not infused as part of the institution's programming and support? With Canada's role in colonization, institutions often take a performative role, offering hollow and inadequate support far from the public eye. Indigenous students are left to feel like they do not belong as they are misunderstood within the institution's general mental health support and must face the stigma and labelling of needing "special treatment." To decrease the student wide stigma surrounding mental health, post-secondary institutions must create safe spaces for students of similar background and mental health concerns and express their mental health troubles with others who may best understand their lived experience. These safe spaces create a non judgemental atmosphere where students feel represented. These spaces need to be visible and combine students in the conversation of how they will be facilitated, they are too often excluded from the narrative of mental health resources (Gulliver et al., 2019). Resources developed without student's voices cannot unpack and untangle the issues students face and end up reproducing mental health stigma by repackaging already low existing ideas of mental health. Having mental health services such as counselling, group therapy, and support groups that are designed to reflect minority groups led by mental health professionals such as counsellors and social workers who are also a part of those groups helps create safe spaces. Through this diversification of services and health care providers, a better understanding of the intersectionality of students' identity and specific mental health concerns can best address minority students often left out of campus-wide approaches, such as Indigenous students who may benefit from services led by and run exclusively for fellow Indigenous

individuals. In breaking down the stigma surrounding mental health, institutions need to make resources universally accessible to students. Intersectional Mental Health Approaches Taking an intersectional and inclusive approach, post-secondary institutions can begin to break down the stigma surrounding mental health by addressing the effects the multiplicity of identities can have on students. A students identity and position in life, when combined with the stress of school, can increase the need for mental health help, and when institutions are unable to recognize the advantages and disadvantages students face and the appropriate accommodations they may require, students are further stigmatized (Muntaner et al., 2013). Economic status is a crucial aspect of post-secondary life as a large part of the social aspect on campus is associated with money, such as participating in frosh activities during the first month upon entering post-secondary institution. Being left out of such social activities can take an additional toll on mental health as students cannot participate during a time of instability as they transition out of secondary school. Students stigmatized for their economic status may not enjoy campus life's social aspects, such as frosh or club fees, where they can connect with other students and build connections to express their mental health concerns. Students struggling financially may find themselves without the privilege to live in residence during their first year or live near campus, and therefore lose the convenience of being near students they can relate to, the guidance of student dons, and participation in floor meetings for mental health support (Muntaneret al.,2013). As current mental health initiatives work through campus and often follow business hours, students who are unable to remain on campus due to personal circumstances must navigate how to schedule mental health help. Institutional Reputation The University of Toronto, as a "cut-throat" institution, has come with it the reputation of competition and the unhealthy desire to succeed. With prestigious schools and the increased worth of their degree, students are meant to compete with one another, not wanting to seem weak by falling behind or asking for help and admitting that the institution may be too much to handle. This fear of pity and the negative connotations of reaching out and seeking help have become embedded within the campus culture and is reproduced by how the institution praises their low acceptance rates, oblivious to the detrimental effects such pressure causes and the stigma it reproduces (Rafal et al., 2018). In recognizing students' social stratification, post-secondary institutions must consider how their semesters and school life structure can better accommodate students. Deadlines and exams are often a stressful time in and of itself, but the stigma surrounding doing poorly in a class can transcend into the stigma of reaching out for help in fear of being seen as giving up. Professors and teaching staff need to understand students' circumstances being sensitive to their role in impacting student mental health. Undergraduate students, especially in highly competitive programs such as computer science, are known to endure a more significant amount of stress (Rafal et al., 2018). The high required admission average and the focus on program application

after the first year, combined with the transition into post-secondary school, can leave students feeling like they have been thrown in the deep end without a life jacket (Rafal et al., 2018). Conclusion The effects on mental health symptoms and socio-emotional experiences, specifically how public stigma operating at the campus level can deter students from seeking mental health help on campus, is a critical issue to examine as the institution and the campus community play a crucial role in how students and staff acknowledge and understand mental health. Post-secondary institutions have the potential to be ideal locations where students can seek mental health help; however, when the environment itself is ill-equipped to address mental health and fails to reduce stigma, students are left in a position where treatment-seeking no longer seems possible. Post-secondary institutions often turn towards general interventions to boost campus engagement yet fall short of addressing specific groups. A one-size-fits-all approach that does not look within the institution to how specific areas can be better equipped to handle mental health and spread mental health literacy reinforces power dynamics and a rebranding of existing resources through an online chat as seen with Navi dehumanizes the mental health process. What must be done differently is to incorporate student voices when building and framing mental health support, ensuring that those who need the most help can voice their concerns and needs to make resources adequate. By incorporating student-led and faculty-supported initiatives, mental health resources become visible, putting forth the message that students struggling deserve support which the institution is obligated to provide. Tailored interventions focusing on increasing mental health literacy and improving mental health beliefs to help students recognize mental health issues in themselves and others can help break down the stigma between students and reinforce their shared experience (Rafal, Gatto & DeBate, 2018). As students are most likely to approach those they perceive to better understand the mental health issues they are going through, professors and teaching staff must improve their mental health literacy through mandatory yearly workshops (Gulliver et al., 2019). Working towards changing the stigma surrounding mental health at the meso-level involves continual evaluation and consideration of how to remove stigmas and labels that have seeped within the institution's foundations. Students will continue to suffer in silence and fear without the institution itself breaking down the stigmas they produce and facilitate surrounding mental health. Through a campus-implemented mental literacy approach, diverse mental health treatment options, and intersectional inclusivity awareness, post-secondary institutions can begin to reduce meso-level stigma around campus.

Bibliography Council of Ontario's Universities. 2017. “Ensuring a whole-community approach to mental

health.” Mental Health. https://ontariosuniversities.ca/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/COU_Ensuring-a-Whole-of-C ommunity-Approach-to-Mental-Health.pdf Gaddis, S. Michael, Daniel Ramirez and Erik L. Hernandez. 2018. “Contextualizing Public Stigma: Endorsed Mental Health Treatment Stigma on College and University Campuses." Social Science & Medicine 197:183-91. Gulliver, Amelia, Louise Farrer, Kylie Bennett and Kathleen M. Griffiths. 2019. "University Staff Mental Health Literacy, Stigma and Their Experience of Students with Mental Health Problems." Journal of Further and Higher Education 43(3):434-42. Iacovino Juliette, M. and A. James Sherman. 2016. "Retaining Students of Color in Higher Education: Expanding Our Focus to Psychosocial Adjustment and Mental Health." Pp. 61-84 in The Crisis of Race in Higher Education: A Day of Discovery and Dialogue, Vol. 19, Diversity in Higher Education: Emerald Group Publishing Limited. Kalvapalle, R. 2020. U of T launches IBM-powered virtual assistant to help students access mental health supports. University of Toronto. Retrieved from http://shorturl.at/jnBJS Link, Bruce G. and Jo C. Phelan. 2013. "Labeling and Stigma." Pp. 525-41 in Handbook of the Sociology of Mental Health, edited by C. S. Aneshensel, J. C. Phelan and A. Bierman. Dordrecht: Springer. Muntaner, Carles, Edwin Ng, Christophe Vanroelen, Sharon Christ and William W. Eaton. 2013. "Social Stratification, Social Closure, and Social Class as Determinants of Mental Health Disparities." Pp. 205-27 in Handbook of the Sociology of Mental Health., edited by C. S. Aneshensel, J. C. Phelan and A. Bierman. Dordecht: Springer. Rafal, Gregor, Amy Gatto and Rita DeBate. 2018. "Mental Health Literacy, Stigma, and HelpSeeking Behaviors among Male College Students." Journal of American College Health 66(4):284-91. Smith, Rachel A. and Amanda Applegate. 2018. "Mental Health Stigma and Communication and Their Intersections with Education." Communication Education 67(3):382-93. Turner, J. Blake and R. Jay Turner. 2013. "Social Relations, Social Integration, and Social Support." Pp. 341-56 in Handbook of the Sociology of Mental Health., edited by C. S. Aneshensel, J. C. Phelan and A. Bierman. Dordecht: Springer.

Colourism Aasfi Sadeque Artist Statement

Sunlight reflects off the mirror and onto my face as I sit across from my overflowing vanity. I begin a routine as natural to me as the bougainvillea on my windowsill, enveloping me in its sweet aroma. Flitting around this wide array of paints and potions, knowingly applying each product like a well rehearsed dance. With each stroke of colour, I push aside my qualms and become one with my art, my skin, my heritage. My childhood smells like sunscreen, though not for the usual reasons—sports, beaches—but because of fear. Fear of the melanin that connects me to maharajas of the past and the resiliency of my people today. Fear that my dark skin, further sullied by the sun, will render me unwanted, unlovable. My mom takes me to a beauty parlor to be adorned for a party. I’m overjoyed at my first sight of makeup; women embracing their ancestral features—accentuating them. The artist begins. “Should I go lighter?” My smile falters. Instinctively, mom replies “yes”, and the artist spreads her mercury-ridden creams and too-light foundations, bleaching away centuries of culture alongside my complexion. I grow up detesting my skin, calling winter my favorite season for that is when I’m my palest. Pre-teen, I shun makeup aisles in stores, only considering them tools for whitening.

Shielded in my new cloud-covered, snowy home of Canada, I am beautiful. For my 16th birthday, a gift from my aunt appears at my doorstep: a box containing makeup. Apprehensive, I rummage through, and am amazed to find rich tones of cocoa and chestnut—a contrast to the suppressing beige of my childhood. I begin to stipple the perfect shade into my skin, and am taken back to the childlike wonder of that day at the parlor, except now, I find my smile in the reflection, embracing the pigment of my lineage. Painted with shades of the rainbow, my dark eyes pierce, my dark lips shine bright, and my dark skin glows, liberated from the ideals of pale perfection. Makeup is my art, and through it, I showcase my brown skin proudly.

A CRITICAL ANALYSIS OF BILL C-83: A CASE OF CHARTER RIGHTS VIOLATIONS AND SYSTEMIC RACISM THROUGH THE CONCEALED AND ONGOING USE OF ADMINISTRATIVE SEGREGATION Ana Brinkerhoff Abstract

The manifest, or intended, function of criminal justice sentencing is to rehabilitate offenders and distribute retributive justice to victims. However, because Canada’s criminal justice system is founded upon colonial hierarchical structures, its practices can reinforce societal inequality through the direct and indirect inhumane treatment of inmates. One of these problematic practices is the use of administrative segregation (AS) for inmates in federal and provincial penitentiaries which segregates inmates who, in theory, pose a risk to the mainstream inmate population (Ahalt et al., 2017). AS is also used as a form of punishment for minor or one-time offences that occur in penitentiaries. These offences often prevent an inmate from leaving the cycle of AS confinement, a pattern in which officers repeatedly confine inmates to AS for actions that would otherwise be penalized by less restrictive measures (Reiter, 2012). Repeated confinement to AS puts inmates at a disadvantage for early release and subjects them to inhumane treatment and other drawbacks that do not contribute to a “restorative” sentence (Reiter, 2012), which is the intended outcome of penitentiary sentencing. AS also poses severe health risks to inmates, such as mental and physical health deterioration, sensory deprivation, and mental illness diagnoses (Luigi et al., 2020). Due to these negative consequences of AS, the United Nations (2020) classified AS as torture if inmates are confined for more than fifteen consecutive days. The cycle of AS confinement only worsens

these negative consequences. Moreover, the cycle of AS does not impact all inmates to the same degree. Indigenous inmates are severely overrepresented in the population of inmates who are confined to AS (Montford & Moore, 2018, p.644). In this way, AS contributes directly to the systemic racism within Canadian institutions and judicial practices that disproportionately target Indigenous inmates. Civil liberty actors advocated for the reform of AS due to these negative aspects. In response, the Canadian government attempted to improve AS in federal prisons in 2018 by passing Bill C-83, which sought to eliminate AS in Canadian penitentiaries (Parliament of Canada, 2019). Instead, the Bill works to replace AS with a more humane alternative called a structured intervention unit (SIU), which is a “stand-alone, multi-level security unit within an area of a penitentiary” (Correctional Service Canada, 2019a). Yet, according to a recent report by criminologists Anthony Doob and Jane B. Sprott (2020), Bill C-83 is ineffective because government organizations rarely enforce it. This essay argues that the legislation relies on changing the name of “administrate segregation” to “structured intervention unit” to create the illusion of social and institutional reform. By using post-colonial theory to critique the performative measures of the Canadian government to ineffectively prevent the use of AS, this essay examines how the inadequacies of Bill C-83 are a property of a colonial structure as the policy’s ineffectiveness, its vague and unenforceable language, makes the Bill performative legislation, which fails to enact the reforms it supposedly champions. The Bill also contributes to the health deterioration of inmates, subjects them to cruel punishment, and upholds systemic racism that is prevalent in colonial institutions such as penitentiaries. Policy Background Bill C-83 legislates the continued use of AS under its new name of SIU. The Honourable Ralph Goodale introduced the Bill to the House of Commons on 16 October 2018 (Library of Parliament, 2018). Bill C-83 terminates all legislation in the Corrections and Conditional Release Act regarding AS and instead mandates the use of SIUs to separate “at-risk” inmates from the mainstream penitentiary population (Library of Parliament, 2018). This policy is an attempt to create a more humane solution to handling inmate conflicts without relying on the harsh measures of AS. The main stakeholders in the outcomes of the policy concern individuals in the penitentiary industry, impacting inmates in federal penitentiaries, penitentiary officers, and employees (Library of Parliament, 2018). Bill C-83 attempts to outline an improved solution to facilitating inmate separation by offering the opportunity to afford inmates up to four hours per day outside of their cell, and up to two hours per day of meaningful human contact (Government of Canada, 2019b; Library of Parliament, 2018). These reforms were important inclusions to the improved SIU policy in response to the inhumane consequences of AS, including the deterioration of mental health and sensory deprivation of inmates (CCLA, 2020). The federal government stated that the Bill identifies the impact of the criminal justice system on marginalized communities, specifically on Indigenous communities (Library of Parliament, 2019). In addition, legislators justified their support of the Bill because the previous

use of AS contributed to the deterioration of mental health, as well as to the difficulties of reintegrating inmates into mainstream penitentiary populations. Thus, legislators defend Bill C-83’s attempts to address these systemic factors because the policy does so in a way that improves the existing conditions of AS for inmates (Government of Canada, 2019b). Policy Analysis The disparity between Bill C-83’s enforceability and its ideals is quite significant, which inhibits the policy’s effectiveness. In particular, the policy keeps in place legal practices that are rooted in a colonial legal structure (Parkes, 2017), and does so through the appearance of reformatory legislation. First, conflict theory can help to explain the unequal justice system’s practices. In its original Marxist iteration, conflict theory argues that conflict exists between social groups—the wealthier, more powerful bourgeoisie and the numerically larger proletariat—due to hierarchical systems founded on the distribution of wealth that favour the former group (Bystrova & Gottschalk, 2015). Later contributions to conflict theory by Howard S. Becker and Irving Louis Horowitz apply a broader institutional context (1972). Their adaptation to conflict theory suggests that penitentiaries are vital to maintaining structure in a hierarchical and capitalist society (Becker & Horowitz, 1972; Bystrova & Gottschalk, 2015). Specifically, the theory proposes that penitentiaries are not successful at deterring people from crime or at rehabilitating inmates, and instead argues that penitentiaries serve the interests of the justice system in upholding class-based inequality (Becker & Horowitz, 1972; Bystrova & Gottschalk, 2015). This inequality is maintained through practices within penitentiaries such as the cycle of AS confinement, which prolongs inmates’ stay in AS and subjects them to even more cruel environments than those of the mainstream prison population. One of the consequences of such a practice is the higher risk of mental and physical health deterioration of many inmates (Luigi et al., 2020), specifically Indigenous inmates (Montford & Moore, 2018), and the fact that it does not rehabilitate inmates—an intention of penitentiary sentencing. Post-colonial theory has also enriched conflict theory in ways that are relevant to the present discussion. While Marx supposes a conflict between the bourgeoisie and proletariat, Edward Said’s early post-colonial theory posits a similar conflict between colonial administrators and first residents (1979). The theory also argues that current racism is a direct result of the continuation of colonial structures and motivations through legal procedures and legislation, among other imperial practices (Said, 1979; Morgensen, 2011). These practices, such as AS confinement, further the modern-day repercussions of colonialism, which are evident in the drastic overrepresentation of Indigenous peoples within penitentiaries as compared to the rest of the Canadian population (Morgensen, 2011). Both of these theories suggest that the purpose of penitentiaries is to maintain the hierarchy of society, from which the settler majority benefits, and to allow for the continuation of social inequities (Bystrova & Gottschalk, 2015), albeit through the illusion of reformatory legislation, that are essential to upholding a capitalist or colonial society. A particular mechanism that the post-colonial state uses to maintain hierarchy is the illusion of reformatory legislation, which this essay calls performative legislation. Performative

legislation only appears to reform problematic practices, and instead, continues these policies under new legal definitions without implementing explicit structural change addressing hierarchy and inequality. For this precise reason, Bill C-83 is entirely ineffective at amending the use of AS. In particular, the Bill renames older terms and presents these new terms as equitable, concrete changes that indicate the government’s commitment to addressing issues within the criminal justice system. In addition, because of vague and unenforceable language, institutions do not adhere to the policy’s reforms; furthermore, there are no administrative sanctions for noncompliance by the CSC (Doob & Sprott, 2020). For these reasons, Bill C-83, and performative legislation in general, is not effective at targeting systemic issues. Performative legislation is a concept that situates within the larger contexts of post-colonial theory as the theory states that post-colonial governments and institutions use practices that contribute to social inequality in order to uphold the structures of hierarchy, continuing the modern repercussions of colonialism (Said, 1979). Because Bill C-83 is performative legislation, it contributes to the lack of tangible steps that the federal government should take to address systemic issues within Canadian penitentiaries. In particular, on 6th September 2019, the government recommended the forming of an independent committee to assess the use of SIUs (Government of Canada, 2019c). The Structured Intervention Unit-Implementation Advisory Panel (SIU-IAP) consists of independent scholars to evaluate the implementation of SIUs (Doob & Sprott, 2020). However, the SIU-IAP was not able to conduct a successful assessment of SIUs due to the refusal of Corrections Service Canada (CSC) to share vital data with the Panel for almost one year, until September 2020 (Doob & Sprott, 2020). After much delay, the SIU-IAP produced a report indicating many inconsistencies between the Bill’s recommendations and the actual implementation and practices of SIUs. The report finds that SIUs are ineffective as they employ the same practices as AS without taking into account the reforms mandated by Bill C-83. In addition, the policy is highly problematic as it violates the rights of inmates under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (CCRF). 1. Violation of Charter Rights, Section 7 Bill C-83 subjects inmates to a severe form of punishment that violates Section 7 of the CCRF. Section 7 states that “everyone has the right to… security of the person and the right not to be deprived thereof except in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice” (CCRF, 1982). The term “fundamental justice” may appear to justify the use of AS on the grounds of a violation of Charter rights because the state can infringe on certain freedoms of inmates in cases of punishment for criminal offences. However, the use of AS has severe and long-lasting impacts on the physical and mental health of inmates (Luigi et al., 2020). Inmates who are confined to AS are at increased risk of self-harm, death by suicide, and other psychological effects (Luigi et al., 2020, p.1). Because of the severe consequences of AS, the notwithstanding clause should not apply to cases of AS violating the rights of inmates as outlined in CCRF, Section 7. To address these risks, Bill C-83 outlines reforms to AS such as the abilities for inmates to spend four hours per day outside of their cells, to engage in two hours of meaningful

interaction, and to receive daily visits by healthcare professionals (Section 2.1.4.1., 2019) (Section 2.1.3., 2019). These reforms intend to create a more humane regime of SIUs and to reduce the psychological effects of AS on inmates. However, the violation of inmates’ rights under Section 7 of the CCRF remains the same as SIUs continue to subject inmates to conditions in which their health deteriorates. According to Doob and Sprott, CSC staff did not afford inmates four hours outside of their cell or two hours of human interaction, which are required daily by law (Table B1, 2020). In particular, an alarming 66.5% of inmates did not receive any amount of time outside of their cell for the duration of their stay in SIUs (Doob & Sprott, 2020, p.35). This finding alone demonstrates the ineffectiveness of Bill C-83. If the Bill’s mandates do not apply to all personnel within penitentiaries, the legislation remains a performative attempt to reform harmful practices. Finally, the structure and vague wording of Bill C-83 allow for the prolonged exposure to SIUs and, therefore, prevent the policy from eliminating factors that contribute to the poor mental health of inmates. For example, Section 2.1.4.1. indicates that the maximum stay in an SIU is five consecutive days (2019). However, it also states that an inmate’s stay should be reviewed “within 30 days after the inmate is confined in the SIU,” implying that an inmate may remain in an SIU for a significantly longer period than recommended (Section 2.1.4.1., 2019). These factors allow for the violation of the Section 7 rights and freedoms that guarantee security of person. They also render Bill C-83 ineffective due to its unenforceability and its enablement of the continued practices of AS despite its calls for reforming the practice. 1. Violation of Charter Rights, Section 12 Bill C-83 also infringes on the rights and freedoms that are guaranteed under Section 12 of the CCRF: a person’s right to “not to be subjected to any cruel and unusual treatment or punishment” (1982). The United Nations considers prolonged exposure to AS a form of torture (2020). Combined with severe mental health risks, SIUs are not an alternative to AS and violate an inmate’s right to not be subjected to cruel punishment. Furthermore, the Bill does not prevent harm to inmates as 42.1% of inmates in SIUs did not receive any opportunity to engage in the two hours of meaningful contact that is required by law (Doob & Sprott, 2020, p.36). The need for time outside of a cell is vital to decreasing the mental health risks that AS poses (Kelsall, 2014). Bill C-83’s unenforceability does not protect inmates from harm as the policy continues to support the conditions in which this harm is very likely. 2. Violation of Charter Rights, Section 15 A final inadequacy of the legislation is its enablement of the disproportionate rate at which officers commit Indigenous inmates to SIUs. The Bill’s practices infringe on the rights and freedoms that are outlined in Section 15, or the right to “equal[ity] before and under the law…without discrimination… based on race, [and] national or ethnic origin” (CCRF, 1982). Bill C-83 directly contributes to the systemic racism within the Canadian criminal justice system and its practices. According to the report by Doob and Sprott, of inmates that spent time in SIUs, 39% were Indigenous and 13% were Black (2020, p.10). In addition, when Doob and Sprott requested the statistics to compare the rates of inmates committed to SIUs to the general

demographics of the penitentiary population, CSC denied any access to this data (Table 3, 2020). Presumably, this is due to the overrepresentation of Indigenous inmates in penitentiaries. Bill C-83 set out to “strengthen” the federal prison system and to recognize the systemic barriers that Indigenous peoples face at the hands of the criminal justice system (Library of Parliament 2018). Specifically, the Bill sought to recognize factors that “must be taken into account when making any decision affecting an Indigenous offender” (Section 1, 2018). This aspect of the policy is concerning as Doob and Sprott’s report reveals that the direct opposite is true: the policy works ineffectively to combat systemic racism in the criminal justice system because it sustains and perpetuates the racist practices which it claims to reform. The Bill allows penitentiaries to continue to marginalize Indigenous inmates because the policy is intentionally unenforceable. From the basis of conflict theory, post-colonial theory suggests that the criminal justice system punishes marginalized offenders to a greater degree than non-marginalized offenders (Morgensen, 2011). This pattern is a product of a colonial system whose practices contribute to systemic racism and colonial oppression, and ultimately, keep in place the system’s hierarchies (Siegel & McCormick, 2015, p.290). The theory is directly evidenced by the legislation, specifically in regard to the overrepresentation of Indigenous inmates in SIUs. The Bill states its commitment to “enshrine in law the consideration of systemic and background factors that affect Indigenous peoples” (Government of Canada, 2019b). However, Bill C-83’s purposes are not fulfilled accurately, and the legislation continues to sustain a racist and inhumane practice founded upon colonial ideals. Specifically, the policy’s ineffectiveness is a property of the colonial framework that is woven into the criminal justice system, an ineffectiveness that maintains social inequalities and hierarchy. Its unenforceability allows the Bill to appear as reform without addressing tangible and clear structural factors that contribute to the systemic racism within Canadian penitentiaries. Policy Recommendations Bill C-83 is one piece of a colonial structure that maintains hierarchy at the expense of creating social inequalities. Penitentiaries incorporate into their practices the colonial-era notion that harsh punishment discourages crime, which Cesare Beccaria’s deterrence theory explains well (Buntman, 2019). This theory justifies the overreliance on penitentiaries, as well as the harsher, mandatory sentencing that systematically targets certain groups at disproportionate rates and blames inaccurately for crime. This disparity in sentencing also reinforces social inequalities (Deutschmann, 2006, p.139). However, the alternatives to harsh sentencing include the concept of restorative justice. Restorative justice is defined as a model that “aims [… to] reintegrate[e] offenders to their communities, repair the harm suffered by victims, and restor[e] the relationship between victim and offender” (Cossins, 2008, p.360). A dependence on this type of model can discourage the overreliance on sentencing inmates, as means of retribution and deterrence of crime, to ineffective penitentiaries that perpetuate racism. While it would be greatly beneficial to completely eliminate the use of AS, or SIUs, from Canadian legislation and criminal justice practices, this approach is not a feasible, immediate solution because the same government that enacted Bill C-83 would be responsible to amend or

repeal it. Additionally, it would be a lengthy process for the House of Commons and the Senate to pass this legislation; the Bill took almost nine months to become legislation (Parliament of Canada, 2019). A more direct, practical solution is necessary to address the failures of the policy. An international perspective may allow for more concrete strategies for reforming the legislation. Germany’s Solutions to Administrative Segregation Germany has implemented harsh, restrictive measures to extremely limit the use of AS. Germany’s criminal justice system first employs strategies to prevent reoffending such as restorative justice or counselling, leaving sentencing as a last resort (Subramanian & Shames, 2013; Banks, 2020). Within German penitentiaries, sentences rarely last longer than fifteen years, and the use of AS is exceedingly difficult for judges and courts to approve (York, 2019). The administrative structure of the German criminal justice system allows for the strict regulation of AS, and many preventative steps exist to ensure that confinement to AS is a final measure. If an inmate does spend time in AS, administrative regulations restrict their stay to a period of no more than five consecutive days, once per year (Banks, 2020, p. 765; York, 2019). Finally, penitentiaries are structured around the mental health of inmates, and include mandatory mental health training for all penitentiary employees (Banks, 2020, p.797). While these improvements by the German criminal justice system are revered as progressive and more humane options to AS, they are still designed to exist within an unjust institution. However, these strategies are fairly effective reforms to AS considering the conditions in which they can operate. In other words, because abolishing the problematic elements of penitentiaries as well as the criminal justice system requires the drastic reworking of societal structures, the reforms that Germany offers present the most immediate and effective mechanisms to creating a more humane experience for inmates within AS. Canadian Context Bill C-83 should be viewed as one small portion of a larger, colonial structure of the criminal justice system, which must be critically examined at all institutional levels, including its policies. However, for immediate reforms, the Canadian government should amend Bill C-83’s clauses to contain strong, enforceable language that clearly outlines the limits for an inmate’s stay in SIUs to include a maximum period of five consecutive days, once per year. As well, the reformed policy must incorporate harsh regulations and procedures of placing an inmate in AS similar to that in Germany (York, 2019). Finally, the Bill should outline concrete steps for penitentiary officers to follow in order to prevent reliance on SIUs, to only subject an inmate to SIUs if no other alternatives exist, and to ensure the humane treatment of inmates in SIUs. A strict, regulated procedure for submitting an inmate to SIUs would assert an administrative system of checks and balances that would reduce the disproportionate confinement of Indigenous inmates to SIUs. It would also promote other preventative strategies such as more expansive medical ranges, like increased mental health visits by registered health care professionals, as opposed to more expansive isolation units.

The amendment of Bill C-83 does pose unique challenges. First, the time frame of an amendment would take as long as, if not longer than, the initial legislative process of the policy. Yet, the broader inadequacies lay within the criminal justice system itself, and the conversations of abolishing or reforming an entire system would take considerably longer. Second, legislators may object to these amendments on the grounds that they are radical or unfounded reforms because Bill C-83 has already been passed, and legislators may consider the original Bill to be progressive. However, the Doob and Sprott report states that this policy is ineffective and violates human rights and concretely contributes to systemic racism (2020). These findings are available to the public and may motivate the government to reconsider its position on the legislation. Thus, while the report’s findings justify the equitable and necessary amendments to the policy, the implementation of Germany’s solutions as amendments to Bill C-83 would take time and would require reworking in order to take into account the unique structural differences between Germany’s criminal justice system and Canada’s. Conclusion The enactment of Bill C-83 attempted to reform the use of AS as punishment. Instead, the Bill encourages continued reliance on a form of cruel punishment, one that directly impacts the deterioration of inmate mental health, as well as disproportionately affects Indigenous inmates. The legislation violates Sections 7, 12, and 15 of the CCRF (1982) and requires immediate amendments. The federal government refused to commit to a structural change of the criminal justice system by enacting a flimsy and unenforceable piece of performative legislation. The vague language of the Bill permits CSC to not comply with its mandates; CSC’s non-compliance with the legislation mandates perpetuates patterns of sentencing racialization, a practice which is rooted in colonialism and deterrence theory (Doob & Sprott, 2020). Hence, the Canadian government should re-evaluate the adequacy of its legislation of the performative reforms in Bill C-83. An international perspective presents useful strategies for the federal government to turn to. Germany’s strict and enforceable methods for preventing the severe overreliance on AS offer more effective alternatives (Subramanian & Shames, 2013). Specifically, the German government invests in mental-health-oriented solutions to addressing different inmate conflicts within penitentiary populations (Subramanian & Shames, 2013). In a Canadian context, these reforms could exist as immediate and temporary measures to inhibit the violation of human rights within SIUs, until a larger discussion can be held to critically examine the feasibilities of abolishing the use of AS entirely and to reconsider alternatives to the racist and systemic criminal justice procedures that penitentiaries employ.

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Advocacy is Not Activism Hannah Benyamin Abstract

Preface: There’s Something in the Water Screening and Discussion Event Summary The documentary film, There’s Something in the Water (2019), directed by Elliot Page and Ian Daniel, was featured by the David Suzuki Foundation as a Screening and Discussion Webinar. The webinar featured speakers including Dr. Ingrid Waldon, David Suzuki, and Black and Indigenous grassroots activists from the film who are situated in Nova Scotia. The film itself captured the disproportionate effects of environmental injustice taking place in Shelburne, Pictou County, and Stewiacke, Nova Scotia. The film engaged in a story-telling and case-study approach to display the effects of environmental racism in these primarily Black and Indigenous communities. This can be seen through contamination of these sites by oil spills and factory emissions which have left generations of residents with lasting health impacts. The film highlights that even after countless efforts of activist work, the government and other authorities have yet to intervene for the betterment of the residents. As a whole, the film specifically draws upon the activist work of women in hopes to protect their local communities from these pollutants and landfills. The discussion following the screening captured prominent voices from the film such as the female Indigenous activists. Their discussion highlighted that environmental racism is about political power and that there must be an intersectional approach taken to reach the proper remedies. These include environmental racism legislation, nuanced methods of research, and school curriculum which fosters decolonization and intersectional learning approaches (Live Event, Oct. 21, 2020). Furthermore, David Suzuki spoke on settler colonialism and its role in shaping the institutions which provoke environmental racism (Live Event, Oct. 21, 2020). Suzuki

concluded this point by emphasizing that we must stand together in agreement for progress to be made against colonial methods of resource exploitation (Live Event, Oct. 21, 2020). Introduction The general frameworks this webinar encompassed are critical to the actions it provoked of its viewers. The webinar was a key tool in raising awareness of environmental racism by highlighting the disproportionate effects faced by Black and Indigenous populations in Nova Scotia. Additionally, the film contributed to the discussion of feminism by showcasing a feminist perspective, specifically by highlighting strong Indigenous matriarchs for their activist work around their respective communities and the environmental struggles they face. Moreover, the webinar was an accessible and free event held via Zoom during the COVID-19 pandemic. The online presence of these academics and activists, as well as access to the film, encompassed a welcoming style of learning. This webinar enacted environmental justice practices by taking a nuanced creative approach to justice work through its delivery as its method can be considered “new” in terms of its technological organization and mobilization. Although showing the film and having the panel was a creative way of raising awareness, it is more so an act of solidarity than a solution to the problems it highlighted. To viewers, the webinar was a way of involvement in solidarity acts and acknowledgement of the issues at hand; however, it failed to provide avenues and resources for direct action participation. Henceforth, I will argue that the methodologies of the webinar were not effective as it did not offer viewers creative solutions. First, I will examine the film in relation to key concepts by discussing the intersecting frameworks of slow violence, settler colonialism and its goals of capitalism and matriarchy. To analyze the mechanics of the activity and discussion, I will implement my research question: What action did the panel discussion provoke its viewers to take?. Film Analysis The communities in Nova Scotia which have been drastically affected by pollutants and landfills are subjects of slow violence. Slow violence can be defined as the slow and generational process of harm done onto communities which often goes unrecognized by those not directly affected. Slow violence is connected to displacement and inaccessibility to basic necessities, which in turn causes “untallied” casualties in affected communities (Phillips, 2020, Lec. 4). For example, residents of Shelburne face the impacts of burned garbage remains from navy bases and hospitals. This has significantly affected the air quality of Shelburne and residents have been faced with lasting health impacts. While their dump has been closed since 2016, there is still concern surrounding what is buried there and what effects it has on people’s health, considering the community has “one of the highest rates of multiple myeloma” (Page & Daniel, 2019). Evidently, “people of colour are more likely than others to live by pollutants” and face the negative health impacts such as asthma and cancer (Bosler, 2020, para. 6). Shelburne’s Black population which lives by industrial sites are seen as an obstacle to“imperial goals of achievement,” and as authorities choose to remain silent against the injustices, their elimination is justified (Hubbard, 2014, p. 293). The imperialistic goals held by the state ensure that pollutive and contaminated sites are unable to harm wealthy communities. These sites are situated in poor

and racialized communities to uphold tactics of state oppression which disallow these communities to come between capital gain. Therefore, slow violence and settler colonialism intersect in order to destroy communities to one day be able to replace them with colonial and imperial institutions which are driven capitalistically (Hubbard, 2014, p. 298). A main takeaway from the film was the relationship between postal code and quality of life and health. The film highlighted that one’s geographic location is a determinant of a person’s well-being because of structural inequities in place. This inherently contributes to the dynamics of power relations that force marginalized people to face the burdens of living without environmental benefits (Scott, 2014). To explain, in Pictou County, also known as Boat Harbour, power dynamics played a role in the structural injustices faced by Indigenous residents. The residents of Boat Harbour have a long history attached to its geographic location, specifically filled with memories of running to the waters when colonial agents arrived to collect children to bring them to residential schools, meaning that the water was a safe space for the community. When colonial capitalistic efforts were driven to the area, the Chief of the Indigenous community was made to believe that opening a papermill factory would not affect the quality of water. The factory worsened not only water quality - as contaminants were dumped into drinking water sources - but also air quality through effluent smells (Page & Daniel, 2019). Settler colonialism is prevalent in these circumstances through the occupation of lands in ways that do not acknowledge those that were originally there (Phillips, 2020, Lec. 2). The pollutants in this community, and in the other Nova Scotia sites affected, are material forms of harm as they cause intergenerational violence through extraction, manufacturing, and other industries which overflow legal jurisdictions of state-authorized emissions (EDAction & CLEAR, 2017). The lasting negative health effects are practices of settler colonial genocide which eliminate the unwanted populations to ensure that capital standards are met, and that the economy benefits the heads of state. For those living in the vicinity, there is the intersection of abuse of people and abuse of nature; natural sites become contaminated for capital gain and the marginalized community faces the negative effects (Bosler, 2020, para. 5). The film situated the eco-feminist role of climate justice activists who battle to protect their environments. The Indigenous matriarchs in these communities highlighted that if the people in the polluted areas decide to leave, then companies will continue to branch out further South (Page & Daniel, 2019). This analysis proves that there is an overall disregard for the wellbeing of the residents, especially through the impacts of the various factories and dump sites. The analysis also insinuates that colonial landscapes of consent have taken way to degrade the social and physical aspects of human life (Native Youth Sexual Health Network & Women’s Earth Alliance [NYSHNWEA], 2016, pp. 11-16). The growing structure of the global economy requires a gluttonous supply of natural resources that primarily come from Indigenous lands. Therefore, the residents of these lands are subject to living in “sacrifice zones,'' where they, along with their land, are sacrificed through biological warfare (ie. pollution) as a form of colonization (NYSHNWEA, 2016, pp. 7, 21). These residents face the intersecting impacts of environmental racism and patriarchy. As such, women experience this violence at a heightened level due to the

fact that they are “the environment first,” being that their reproductive qualities stem from nature, and thus, violence to the land is violence to their bodies (NYSHNWEA, 2016, p. 4). Indigenous women are targeted as they face consequences, such as reproductive health declines and sexual violence, because they have the ability to “bring forth generations that impose sovereignty” (NYSHNWEA, 2016, p. 20). For these women to stand ground emphasizes their strength as activists and that they are sovereign to their lands and bodies. Their resistance is an act of protection for their generations to come. Activist Expectations: What did the Event Provoke? As noted above, the screening portion of the event evoked a lot of emotion. The film did an excellent job capturing the environmental injustices faced by communities in Nova Scotia. The discussion following the film screening also played a role in raising awareness of these environmental justice issues. The discussion that all speakers contributed to reiterated the fact that Canada is built upon a capitalistic method which relies on the exploitation of resources using settler colonial methodologies. The speakers discussed that the challenges of environmental justice work is that marginalized voices are the only ones speaking but are not being heard (Live Event, October 21, 2020). However, these discussions did not provoke change because they failed to provide an activist approach. Instead of encouraging activism, which consists of direct action, the panel discussion instead used methods of advocacy through showcasing the film as research findings (Phillips, 2020, Lec. 8). The activity should have mirrored practices of environmental justice action by encouraging viewers to contribute to sustainable liberation networks, participate in letter writing campaigns, social media projects, or calls to action (Bosler, 2020, para. 11). Environmental justice requires that voices of the marginalized are amplified in policy-making venues to rightfully address the discriminatory policies, yet the panel discussion did not provide viewers the avenues to such platforms (Phillips, 2020, Lec. 1). Overall, this event provoked emotions of sympathy and empathy; however, its mechanics were not strong enough to encourage work beyond the event period or reflections of the film. Conclusion The There’s Something in the Water Screening and Discussion hosted by the David Suzuki Foundation was an act of advocacy and solidarity to the residents of Shelburne, Pictou County, and Stewiacke, Nova Scotia and their ongoing battle against colonial acts of environmental injustice in their areas. The film touched upon key concepts, such as slow violence, settler colonialism, capitalism, and eco-feminism produced by matriarchs. The discussion component of the event encompassed the comparison between activist and advocacy work. Thus, although the solidarity work put forth by the speakers and the organization was notable, it did not necessarily encourage viewers to participate in environmental justice activism outside of the event.

Bibliography Bosler, C. (2020). Environmental and Justice Activists Need to Join Forces. Earth Institute Blog, Columbia University.

EDAction & CLEAR. (2017). Pollution is Colonialism. Retrieved from: https://civiclaboratory.nl/2017/09/01/pollution-is-colonialism/ Hubbard, T. (2014). Buffalo Genocide in 19th Century North America: Kill, Skin, & Sell. Colonial Genocide in Indigenous North America, 292-305. Live Event. David Suzuki Foundation. (October 21, 2020). There’s Something in the Water Discussion + Screening presented via Zoom. Native Youth Sexual Health Network and Women’s Earth Alliance [NYSHNWEA]. (2016). Violence on the Land is Violence on Our Bodies. Building an Indigenous Response to Environmental Violence, 1-35. Page, E., & Daniel, I. (Directors). (2019). There’s Something in the Water [Video file]. 2 Weeks Notice Production Company. Phillips, A. (2020). Lecture 1: The Home/Place Where we Start. University of Toronto. Phillips, A. (2020). Lecture 2: Environmental Justice and Settler Colonialism. University of Toronto. Phillips, A. (2020). Lecture 4: Intersectionality, Transnationality, and Structural Violence. University of Toronto. Phillips, A. (2020). Lecture 8: Activist Practices. University of Toronto. Scott, D. (2014). Environmental Justice. The SAGE Encyclopedia of Action Research, 1-12.

Classism

Armouries, What Are They Good For? Sara Durante Abstract

1. Moss Park Armoury in Toronto, Ontario Homelessness is an issue that cannot be wished away. It has taken years – decades – for Toronto to implement a system that supports those who are homeless in the city. Unfortunately, despite City Council's "efforts,” homelessness is alive and well.

Toronto residents publicly speak out; however, City Council responds far too late. In 2017, 80 homeless people died in Toronto, as a result of City Council's inability to take action. What takes City Council so long to respond? The answer won't be immediately clear; however, Toronto Star writer, Azeezah Kanji, offers one possibility: Imagine Cities That Shelter People, Not War. “In the early 1960s, housing … was knocked down to make way for a war training facility, the Moss Park Armoury,” read a campaign by Homes Not Bombs, the group that initiated the Moss Park Armoury Transformation Project. “We are campaigning to transform the armoury back into housing to meet the real needs of the community.” The federal government refused. “The choice of using this building as a war training camp kills twice,” wrote Homes Not Bombs co-founder Matthew Behrens. “It deprives people of shelter here in Canada, leading to death on the streets, and it trains people to kill abroad.” Azeezah Kanji This statement helps put Toronto into perspective when it comes to how the city “supports” the homeless and its lack of leadership in this area. Toronto's City Council and the Canadian federal government are aware of the growing homelessness rates in the city. However, rather than trying to eradicate them, Toronto has exacerbated homelessness, by replacing affordable housing with war training camps -- as clearly showcased in Kanji’s article. Clicking on this article will allow Toronto residents to see where they – and the homeless – sit on the socio-economic hierarchy. For example, it illustrates how homelessness is not a priority to City Council, yet homeless people have a right to be living in Toronto. The article depicts Toronto as a power-hungry city, valuing military needs over community needs. Military power is essential, whereas human needs are debatable. The desire to become a powerful city neglects the needs of others, as well as destroys this image of a peace-loving nation. Moreover, Kanji's article sheds light on the amount of money spent on affordable housing compared to the military in Canada. Spoiler Alert! Canada has the 16th largest military budget in the world – $18.9 billion dollars spent in 2017. Fortunes are spent on weapons, armoury, military ships and jets. However, Canada faces no particular military threat, so why allocate the money this way? This money could be applied elsewhere, like sheltering the homeless. Moreover, this article demonstrates the reality of armouries. Armouries "kill twice." Spending money on the Moss Park Armoury deprives Toronto's homeless from having access to shelter,

placing them at risk of death. Armouries also promote killing across borders, as it trains individuals to fight aboard. Azeezah Kanji writes explicitly to bring awareness to government priorities or lack of. Toronto puts money into war and military weapons, rather than affordable housing or better living conditions in homeless shelters. All Canadian's - particularly residents of Toronto - should take the time to read and understand the issues being addressed in Kanji's article. In her article, Kanji seeks to communicate to her readers that City Council should open the doors of the Moss Park Armoury to the homeless at all times -- through extreme cold and heat waves. This would make the armoury a valuable asset to addressing homelessness in the City of Toronto. In doing so, City Council will show leadership and compassion to all.

Bibliography Kanji, A. (2018, January 11). Imagine cities that shelter people, not war. The Star. https://www.thestar.com/opinion/contributors/2018/01/11/imagine-cities-thatshelter-people-not-war.html

Inclusion and Exclusion: My Family Cottage as a Site of Leisure Hannah Benyamin Abstract

My family cottage, located in Gravenhurst, Ontario, is coded as a site of leisure. Since my cottage occupies space in the Muskoka Region, it is part of the Dish with One Spoon Wampum Belt Covenant. The original occupants of the land were Algonquin and Huron peoples, with the name Muskoka originating from Chippawa chief Meskua Ukee (Visit Muskoka, 2017). The cottage is an intersectional space of people and nature, which is seemingly removed from social sites such as capitalism and outside of culture and dynamics like hierarchies. However, due to perceptions of leisure, the space seems beyond categories of inclusion and exclusion, but it nonetheless relies on cultural, classed, and accessibility hierarchies that do exclude intersectional marginalized identities, particularly Indigenous, poor, and disabled peoples. This site has been in my family for a couple generations; the property was purchased by my uncle’s father in the 1940s. Although he did not directly displace Indigenous populations through first contact, my family’s role as owners of the property implicates us in a heritage of systemic settler displacement of Indigenous peoples in Canada. Currently, the area is predominantly white and has an Indigenous population of two percent (Statistics Canada, 2006). Therefore, this is a site of intergenerational violence where communities are harmed through displacement (Phillips, 2020). As a site of whiteness, my cottage itself pays off certain benefits to my family, such as its high property value and reputation, both of which are reliant on the racial and economic standing of the demographic status quo (Pulido, 2000, p. 16). However, my occupation of this space is different to my uncle’s as he is white Irish male and I am an Assyrian-Iranian Middle Eastern woman (Massey, 1994, p. 153). Subjectively, my identity in comparison to my uncle’s identity creates relations of domination and subordination through patriarchy and the impacts of marginalization onto my ethnic minority status, even in a space which belongs to my own family (Waldron, 2018, p. 254).

As the cottage is a site of whiteness, it also confronts intersections of class. Wealthier families are able to purchase and rent properties, and lakefront properties have higher property value. As my cottage is a lakefront property, we are standing within a higher social stratum which reflects the privilege of relaxation and recreation through our occupation and use of the space. Due to “cottage culture” and the fascination with non-anthropocentric inclusivity “up North”, our property is a site of tourism. The steamships which tour the lake are a reflection of spatiality which contribute to the overt sentiments of ownership and pride expressed by property owners (Pulido, 2000, p. 16). Inherently, the influx of wealthier populations “up North” have deserted Indigenous individuals of their basic needs on their spiritual territories , especially by displacing them economically to poorer surrounding areas (Phillips, 2020). Although occupying a façade of leisure, my cottage is a space primarily accessible to younger and able-bodied people. Although deemed as a space of relaxation, the property itself can be difficult to reach unless fully able-bodied, due to the 75 steps one is required to walk down to get to the property. . Accessibility also revolves around the power geometries of mobility needed to get to the cottage (Massey, 1994, p. 149). Being located in Gravenhurst, the cottage is an approximate two hour drive from Toronto, meaning that those looking to access the space should have access to a car or reliable transportation. My family is in charge of the time-space compression - that is, the movement across space and the social relations we experience within - as we rely on our own vehicles to get us there. Thus, we are able to take advantage of our privilege and control our movement (Massey, 1994, pp. 147-149). My family cottage is a site where the space/environment maps the inclusion and exclusion of intersectional identities, specifically intersections of culture, class, and accessibility (Waldron, 2018, p. 254). These geometries of power socially construct the site to be one of leisure and escapism from fast-paced life. However, it consciously excludes those who are unable to access privileges such as whiteness, upper class membership, and able-bodiedness, leaving these individuals unnoticed.

Bibliography Massey, D. (1994). A Global Sense of Place. In Space, Place, & Gender, 146-157. University of Minnesota Press. Phillips, A. (2020). Lecture 4: Intersectionality, Transnationality, and Structural Violence. University of Toronto. Pulido, L. (2000). Rethinking Environmental Racism: White Privilege and Urban Development in Southern California. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 90(1), 12-40.

Statistics Canada. (2007). 2006 Community Profiles. no. 92-591-XWE. Statistics Canada. https://www12.statcan.gc.ca/census-recensement/2006/dp-pd/prof/92-591/details/page.cf m?Lang=E&Geo1=CSD&Code1=3544002&Geo2=PR&Code2=35&Data=Count&Searc hText=Gravenhurst&SearchType=Begins&SearchPR=01&B1=All&Custom= Visit Muskoka. (2017). History. Visit Muskoka. https://www.visitmuskoka.com/history.htm Waldron, I. R. G. (2018). Women on the Frontlines. Kalfou, 5(2), 251.

An Investigation of How Canada’s Affordability Crisis Contributed to the Rise of Homelessness and an Examination of Solutions to the Homelessness Crisis Leslie Mutoni Abstract

Introduction Although Canada is hailed internationally for its economic performance, Toronto, as well as many of the other urban cities in the country, is currently undergoing a homelessness crisis (Gaetz, 2010). There are approximately 9,200 people facing homelessness in Toronto each night, many of whom also suffer from mental illness (“Homelessness in Toronto,” 2019). The majority of homeless shelters are operating at maximum capacity, which has forced large numbers of people to erect tents or other similar structures around the city—constantly facing the fear of such structures being removed (Salvatori, 2019). Between 2016 and 2018, the average number of people using Toronto’s emergency shelters each night increased by approximately 60%, resulting in over 6,600 people using these shelters on a nightly basis (Hune-Brown, 2019). Approximately 11% of these individuals have been found to use this system for over a year, partly due to the fact that the number of people on the subsidized housing waitlist has grown to over 100,000 and the average wait time for a two-bedroom apartment is 8.5 years (“Homelessness in Toronto,” 2019; Salvatori, 2019). This problem is exacerbated by the lack of assistance from city officials who previously waited until they received significant public backlash before designating the city’s armories as emergency shelters for homeless people living on the streets during the winter (Salvatori, 2019). Unfortunately, such responses do not arrive promptly—resulting in the death of over 900 people due to homelessness (Hune-Brown, 2019). Given the pervasiveness of homelessness in Toronto, and its negative impacts, this paper will address the following research questions: (I) what caused Toronto’s homelessness crisis?; and (II) what can be done to solve this crisis? This paper will begin by exploring how the issue

of homelessness arose in Canada, and how it has since affected Toronto at the municipal level. After doing so, the merits of the current mechanisms for responding to homelessness will be evaluated, before examining some of the novel solutions that are either being implemented or have been proposed. The prevalence of homelessness in Toronto can be attributed to the recent housing crisis and the decrease in funding for social and public housing, which has hindered many individual’s ability to obtain affordable housing. The UN has classified homelessness into two main categories: absolute and relative (Berry, 2014, p. 314). Absolute homelessness refers to people who do not have access to physical shelter and as such, are forced to sleep in unconventional locations such as on the street or in abandoned buildings (Berry, 2014, p. 314). Relative homelessness characterizes individuals who have a physical shelter but this shelter lacks the necessary features required to secure the individual’s health and wellbeing, which includes weather protection, adequate sanitation facilities, and affordability (Berry, 2014, p. 314). The population of homeless people can be further subdivided into those who are chronically homeless—who often face extended periods without access to shelter, and those who are episodically homeless—who mostly have access to shelter except for infrequent, shorter periods (Berry, 2014, p. 314). A large portion of individuals are able to conceal their homelessness by temporarily living with friends or family; while others are at risk of becoming homeless due to the possibility of either getting evicted from their home or having their lease expire without the ability to renew it or find alternative housing (Hulchanski, 2000). Causes of Homelessness in Canada Homelessness is a complex issue that is caused by both individual and societal factors. Some of the individual factors that lead to homelessness include life crises such as the inability to afford rent, poor housing conditions, interpersonal violence or other problems involving those with whom one lives, as well as substance abuse issues (Berry, 2014, p. 315; Paradis, Novac, Sarty, & Hulchanski, 2010). The root cause of an individual’s homelessness may even be related to events that transpired during their childhood including life dissatisfaction, physical or sexual abuse, and unstable housing arrangements (Berry, 2014, p. 315). Although individual factors can be used to explain the prevalence of homelessness on a micro-scale, the degree of homelessness seen in Toronto cannot be explained as solely the result of individual factors. Instead, the current homelessness crisis in Toronto can be attributed to changes in governance during the late-20th century and the resultant affordability crisis. Immediately following the Second World War, there were no major issues surrounding housing affordability because the majority of Canadians and the government were committed to ensuring that everyone had access to clean, affordable housing (Gaetz, 2010). The National Housing Act, Canada’s national social housing program, was created in 1944 to provide social housing, and later public housing, to all people living in the country (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). Between 1964 and 1984, the federal government worked closely with the municipalities to build the majority of Canada’s public housing (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). Towards the later portion of the 20th century, there were dramatic changes in the Canadian economy due to the growth of

neoliberalism as a dominant ideology at all levels of the Canadian government (Joy & Vogel, 2015). This was characterized by a decrease in funding for urban infrastructure, full-time employment, and the provision of welfare services (Joy & Vogel, 2015). Amidst the widespread economic changes, the government also underwent changes to its social and housing policies (Bunting et al., 2004). One of the changes that led to the most significant increase in homelessness was the breakdown of the country’s national housing strategy at the federal level, resulting in a decrease in housing and social spending at all levels of government (Gaetz, 2010). By 1993, the federal government decided to no longer allocate funds to the construction of new affordable housing, and by 1996, it had succeeded in delegating responsibility for supplying social housing to the provincial governments (Hune-Brown, 2019; Gaetz, 2010). In 1982—when the levels of government were still collaborating to fund social housing—there were 20,450 new social housing units built that year but that number decreased significantly by approximately 95% in 1995, resulting in a mere 1,000 social housing units being built that year (Gaetz, 2010). The situation has worsened over the years with only 500 social housing units currently being built per year (Hune-Brown, 2019). Although the provinces have a moral obligation to assist those living in poverty, it is not a requirement, and as such, has to be balanced with their desire to maximize profit (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). The provincial government of Ontario tried to ameliorate the situation by providing tax incentives to the private sector as a means of assisting them in the creation of affordable housing (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). Unfortunately, many private sector investors have been unwilling to assist with making housing—particularly rental apartments—more affordable given the instability of interest rates and inflation (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). This has led some cities, such as Toronto, to rely heavily on the use of emergency shelters and food banks to accommodate the large numbers of people who are unable to find housing (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). The deterioration of the national housing strategy was accompanied by a sharp reduction in income for those at the lower end of the income spectrum due to wage suppression, a decrease in employment benefits, the rise of part-time work, and the deindustrialization of the Canadian economy (Gaetz, 2010). This produced severe inequities in income distribution, which were compounded further by the lack of governmental support for low-income Canadians as evidenced by the decrease in funding for services that greatly benefitted low-income Canadians such as public health, post-secondary education, and welfare (Bunting et al., 2004; Gaetz, 2010). Given that individual incomes were largely decreasing while housing prices were steadily increasing, the portion of each individual’s income dedicated to housing was becoming more significant, thus making it difficult for people to afford other necessities. Those who were unable to find an apartment or afford the steep housing prices were forced to live outside on the street or in parks because the infrastructure that existed to combat homelessness was neither designed to withstand the large numbers of people who were rapidly declining into homelessness nor the changing demographic of the homeless population, which began to include youth, women, and members of racial or ethnic minority groups (Gaetz, 2010).

Toronto-Specific Factors At the local level, urban redevelopment and gentrification allowed people to repurpose abandoned and underused buildings, which were formerly used to supply rental housing at a low cost (Berry, 2014, p. 315; Bunting, Walks & Filion, 2004). Furthermore, the deinstitutionalization of the mentally ill was not accompanied by the transfer of care to community workers, thus placing many of the city’s mentally ill patients on the streets without access to appropriate treatment (Berry, 2014, p. 315). Additionally, there have recently been large influxes of refugee claimants into Toronto as well as individuals affected by the opioid epidemic (Hune-Brown, 2019). Individuals without permanent resident status are in a uniquely disadvantaged position due to their lack of access to social assistance, health care, and other social benefits, making them more likely to suffer from poverty, housing instability, or exploitation (Paradis et al., 2010). Although the city has separate shelters designated for refugees, these are insufficient to accommodate the number of refugees currently entering the country (Hune-Brown, 2019). A combination of the aforementioned factors contributed to the overcrowding of homeless shelters, forcing people to share rooms with others and making them more susceptible to theft or disease (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006; Paradis et al., 2010). The federal and provincial governments were able to commit to offering assistance but more funds are required to adequately respond to this issue (Hune-Brown, 2019). The Current Response to Homelessness and its Faults Several steps have been taken to address the issue of homelessness across Canada. Many were driven by the National Homelessness Initiative (NHI), which was founded by the federal government in 1999 (Gaetz, 2010). It used emergency shelters, drop-in centers, and other forms of social and health support, such as counseling, to improve the community-level response to homelessness. This was mainly executed by funding community-based organizations; however, it lacked a concrete strategy that was designed with the explicit purpose of ending homelessness. As such, the current response to homelessness is disorganized; it places a heavy emphasis on investing in emergency solutions instead of long-term, permanent solutions (Hune-Brown, 2019; Gaetz, 2010). This has a direct impact on non-status migrants who have been found to have some of the longest stays in shelters, and therefore, would greatly benefit from an alternative housing option with facilities to assist them in acquiring status in Canada, as well as flexible childcare options for those with children (Paradis et al., 2010). The widespread investment in emergency responses has not been accompanied by an adequate level of investment in either preventive measures or those designed to facilitate the rapid movement of people out of homelessness (Gaetz, 2010). Due to this, the current system must be augmented to adequately address the issue of homelessness in Toronto. Proposed Solutions to end Homelessness in Toronto Temporary Solutions Although the methods that are currently being used to solve the issue of homelessness and housing affordability are viable, more needs to be done to bring an end to the problem. One of the first steps to combating the issue would be to designate more buildings around the city as

homeless shelters (Hune-Brown, 2019). Although the city currently has 63 homeless shelters, many of these have become overcrowded and the women living in them are extremely vulnerable to abuse (Hune-Brown, 2019). Furthermore, those shelters that are currently in place are intended to serve as a temporary solution, and as such, cannot accommodate the large number of people who are becoming chronically homeless. During the winter, Out of the Cold programs and warming centers are set up in religious facilities; however, these do not provide care for people who remain homeless after the winter ends (Hune-Brown, 2019). As such, new shelters with the potential to house large numbers of people should be designated, while ensuring the safety of those most vulnerable, from abuse and other forms of violence. Prevention through Providing More Affordable Housing While more buildings are being designated as homeless shelters, additional emphasis should be placed on preventing people from becoming homeless. This can be achieved by having all levels of government invest in more affordable housing to provide a longer-lasting solution to the issue of homelessness (Berry, 2014, p. 316; Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). This should ideally be accompanied by an increase in the minimum wage to reduce the income inequities that contributed to the crisis while allowing people to find affordable housing close to their work or school (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). Furthermore, it should include rent supplements and income benefits to assist those living in poverty as a means of preventing them from becoming homeless while trying to access housing, food, and other necessities (Gaetz, 2010; Paradis et al., 2010). Lastly, the delivery of services to homeless people suffering from physical, mental or substance abuse issues should be prioritized so that they can access housing while receiving the necessary treatment, without fear of being ostracized (Gaetz, 2010). One of the barriers prohibiting the creation of more social housing is the increase in the price of land and property taxes, which occurred in part, due to the reinvestment in condominiums that has been taking place in recent years (Lehrer & Winkler, 2006). This can be counteracted by adopting the practice of inclusionary zoning in the city. Inclusionary zoning is an approach to urban planning that requires a portion of housing units in new residential developments to be affordable for people earning low incomes (Meda, 2009). This practice began in the United States and has been shown to increase the supply of affordable housing without expending significant public funds on housing policy (Meda, 2009). Some Canadian cities have begun to practice inclusionary zoning, most notably Vancouver, which has strived to ensure that at least 20% of new housing developments are affordable since 1998 (Meda, 2009). Unfortunately, the country still lacks a national inclusionary zoning policy, thus making it difficult for individual cities to feel pressured to implement this practice (Meda, 2009). As such, it is imperative that the federal government adopt a national inclusionary zoning policy that makes it a requirement for individual municipalities to ensure that this program is successful. Furthermore, the entities involved in the implementation of this policy must use evidence to guide their efforts, so that the resulting policy can be targeted to the needs of the specific sector, since they each have different approaches to government, welfare, and housing (Meda, 2009).

Given that the private sector exerts some control over the housing market, private housing corporations should work with the government to supply affordable housing. This is currently being done, as seen by the emergence of non-profit and cooperative complexes (Berry, 2014, p. 312). These innovative approaches typically require designating a specific number of rent-geared-to-income units in new developments or providing alternate types of housing for segments of the population that are more vulnerable to becoming homeless, such as, seniors, the mentally ill, as well as people suffering from substance abuse issues (Berry, 2014, p. 313). Most recently, municipal governments around the country have allowed homeowners to rent out sections of their house, such as the basement, which contributes to the growth of the affordable housing market without having to build new structures (Berry, 2014, p. 313). Rapid Rehousing of the Homeless After more affordable housing becomes available, the final step would be to relocate homeless people into these apartments or houses while providing them with other necessities, such as treatment for those suffering from mental, physical, or substance abuse issues, as well as education and employment support (Berry, 2014, p. 316). This method is currently used by Housing First and has been shown to enhance the lives of homeless people at a lower cost than some of the other programs in place, such as the emergency response systems (Gaetz, 2010). The success of this type of program can be attributed to its emphasis on the outcome and the use of motivational counseling while supporting each individual’s journey to finding housing, regardless of their substance use (Berry, 2014, p. 316; Gaetz, 2010). Apart from rehousing homeless people as quickly as possible, follow-up services should be provided to prevent them from reentering into homelessness (Paradis et al., 2010). By coordinating a strategy between the governments and individual communities, and developing goals to be accomplished within a specific timeframe, one hopes that the response to homelessness will become more organized, thus increasing its potential for success. Conclusion At present, Toronto is facing a homelessness crisis, which began towards the end of the 20th century following the collapse of the country’s national housing strategy. This resulted in a decrease in funding for affordable housing from the federal government, thus forcing the provincial government to attempt to balance the need to offer housing to low-income individuals with the desire to maximize profit. The decrease in the supply of affordable housing coupled with the rising housing prices relative to income, contributed to many individuals’ decline into homelessness. The severity of the issue was heightened by the changing demographic of the homeless population, which began to include youth, women, non-status migrants, and the mentally ill. Although several emergency shelters have been developed throughout the city, the lack of a coordinated strategy at the national level has prevented the homelessness crisis from coming to an end. In order to solve Toronto’s homelessness crisis, support must first be made available to those at risk of becoming homeless so that they can find secure housing. This can be achieved by implementing policies such as inclusionary zoning and collaborating with the private sector to increase the supply of affordable housing. Lastly, individuals should be

rehoused as quickly as possible while retaining access to necessary treatment so that they can be supported while trying to re-establish themselves in the community. Homelessness is not inevitable therefore nobody should have to die on the street in the middle of winter due to the inaction of government officials.

Bibliography Berry, B. (2014). Housing and Homelessness: Sociological Factors. In H.H. Hiller (Ed.), Urban Canada (3rd ed., pp. 297-320). Ontario, Canada: Oxford University Press. Bunting, T., Walks, A. R., & Filion, P. (2004). The uneven geography of housing affordability stress in Canadian metropolitan areas. Housing studies, 19(3), 361-393. doi: 10.1080/0267303042000204287 Facts about Homelessness in Toronto. (n.d.). Fred Victor. Retrieved November 17, 2019 from https://www.fredvictor.org/facts-about-homelessness-in-toronto/ Gaetz, S. (2010). The struggle to end homelessness in Canada: How we created the crisis, and how we can end it. The Open Health Services and Policy Journal, 3(21), 21-26. doi: 10.2174/1874924001003010021 Hulchanski, J. D. (2000). A new Canadian pastime? Counting homeless people. Centre for Urban & Community Studies. Retrieved from http://tdrc.net/resources/public/2000_Hulchanski_Counting-Homeless-People.pdf Hune-Brown, N. (2019). Inside Toronto’s Homelessness Crisis. Reader’s Digest Canada. Retrieved November 15, 2019 from https://www.readersdigest.ca/culture/homelessness-in-toronto/ Joy, M., & Vogel, R. K. (2015). Toronto’s governance crisis: A global city under pressure. Cities, 49(1), 35-52. doi: 10.1016/j.cities.2015.06.009 Lehrer, U., & Winkler, A. (2006). Public or private? The pope squat and housing struggles in Toronto. Social Justice, 33(3), 142-157. Retrieved November 17, 2019, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/29768391

Meda, J. B. (2009). How Urban Planning Instruments Can Contribute in the Fight against Homelessness. An International Overview of Inclusionary Housing. European Journal of Homelessness, 3(1), 155-177. Retrieved November 17, 2019 from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/237496318_How_Urban_Planning_Instruments _Can_Contribute_in_the_Fight_against_Homelessness_An_International_Overview_of_I nclusionary_Housing Paradis, E., Novac, S., Sarty, M., & Hulchanski, J. D. (2010). Homelessness and Housing among Status Immigrant, Non-Status Migrant, and Canadian-Born Families in Toronto. Canadian Issues, 36-39. Retrieved from https://search.proquest.com/docview/1009043031?pq-origsite=gscholar Salvatori, P. (2019, Jan 24). Toronto abandons its homeless people. NOW Magazine. Retrieved November 15, 2019 from https://nowtoronto.com

To the Man

Hannah Benyamin Artist Statement

To the man who has never stopped working a day in his life. To his endless nights that turned into mornings, To his early mornings that turned into nights, To his days where working has taken over his life. This is for you, working man. This is for your aching back and sore feet, This is for your mental health and exceptional abilities, This is for your never-ending journey, working man. Though life has gotten worse, working man. Though life is now upside down you continue, Though life is unruly, your nights still become mornings, Though life is unruly, your mornings still become nights, Though life is pushing you down you still rise, working man. These long days keep getting harder, working man. These long days have left you strained, These long days have made you work harder, These long days have you feeling constrained, working man. These long days have made you the man who has never stopped working a day in his life. You see, working man, This virus will haunt us all, but it will haunt you more, This virus will cause you pain like you’ve never felt before. You see, working man, The life you lead is painful as your work drains you dry, The life you lead is powerful as your work is our supply. You see, working man, Not a day will ever go by where an indebted soul doesn’t see you try, Not a day will ever go by without you, working man, don’t let your soul be shy.

Transformative Healing and Justice

a self portrait Destiny Mae

Artist Statement

you must know that my lips kissed the sky and gave you your stars the air in my lungs raises the hair on your skin and carries sweet melodies into the wind you must know that my hips bare the fruit you eat you must feel shame to stand this close to the universe and do nothing but mumble Poor Creature. you must be astonished to have existence itself fall for you does it wound you? to know that i am your home? that i carried the ocean in my belly and moulded the mountains with hands that yearn for the love of yours why do you exhaust me? when i have given you nothing but myself? the air you breathe the water you bathe in

All of Me. Creature i am your life tell me the why am i not enough? Poor Creature why am i still aching over you?

VOLUME 1 | ISSUE 1 | SPRING '21