February 2020: The Present Issue

February 2020

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The ‘Present’ Issue 32

table of contents...

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nostalgia by helen c. [poet laureate]

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escaping cabin fever by cory b. [events column]

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please, give yourself a break by isabella s. [staff article]

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talking to strangers by vikram n. [interview]

the present issue by arunoshi s. & robin f. [editor’s note]

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reflections of a former trinity don by marko k.. [alumnus article]

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food for valentines by ellie s. [food column]

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inside out by florian n. [short story]

tropical depression by emily l. [staff article]

a life filled with history by sterling m. [history column]

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readership by mila y. [criticism column] vent with vicky by vicky m. [advice column] sex positions for life positions by barb & carol [sex column]

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top moments of the decade by jess h. [staff article]

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terrified, clueless, and sarcastic by maria v. [alumna article] public trinsportation by nikki p. [submission]

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procrastination at trin by reece y. [first year column]

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the tcm of january 13th by anonymous [submission]

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the signs in love by archana r. [horoscopes]

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traditions and legacy by julien s. [staff article]

here we stood – and haughty arches aloft, cacophony from field mice learning to feast. tentative strokes in pelting rain. here we stood – and our eyes alight, hair whipped by wind and fervour sweat glistening on a painted brow. that dizzying taste drugs us into sleep. here we stand – and here we may stand again. deliberate footsteps intentions of marks left, but are scrubbed away by caretaking in daily routine.

NOSTALGIA

HELEN CHEN

editor’s note Hey Trin, Enjoy this Valentine’s issue, two weeks after Valentine’s. Midterm szn took us for a ride. Now you can plan for next year, though. Order those flowers ahead!

The theme of this issue is Trinity’s present. There is only a half a semester left in the year, and from now on, time only picks up. Slow it down. Enjoy the moments with friends at lunch, springtime budding in the quad, and stretch your legs outside of the library. Enjoy each moment, just as we hope you will enjoy this collection of pieces from Trinity’s talented students. Don’t tell them we said talented, though, for their own good.

Until next time, Robin Fuller & Arunoshi Singh Editors-in-Chief

the team Senior Copy Editor

Editors-in-Chief

Grace Marshall

Emily Larman

Robin Fuller Arunoshi Singh

Design Editors

Copy Editors

Nora Moidu Mary Danesh

Katie Gaskin Elise Lafleur Maja Soltysiak Nika Gottlieb Maria Villarreal

Senior Design Editor

Photography

Treasuer

Cali Sherriff

Illustration

Clare O’Brien Ev Giles

Mary Danesh Grace Marshall

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Escaping Cabin Fever: The Migration of Trinity Events to the Great Outdoors

By Cory Benson

Transcendentalism, you say? Why that’s a thing of the past, long are the days of Ralph Waldo Emerson writing fanfics about plants. That era is a long hop, skip, and thoreau away from the 21st Century.

were just too damn sassy for these independent, post-modern way-finders. Whatever the case may be, the truth still holds that the outdoors is the symbol of new beginnings for Trinity as we move into the new decade.

Well, allow me to introduce you to Trincendentalism. The rapidly growing movement of outdoor events where Trin students flee the Fields of Hoskin and Devonshire in hopes for some soul-searching in the wilderness. But before my social commentary, a bit of history on this trend. he establishment of the Trinity College Outing Society (TCOS) in the past year has spearheaded the movement— pushing students to engage in a number of outdoorsy activities like hiking trails to making s’mores by a bonfire. Other groups have been quick to respond, like NRAC’s with their tenth skating trip of the month or the upcoming TCA skiing venture. TCMHI even has an upcoming cabin expedition to Hart House Farms. This movement of going afar has even been extended to previously well-established on-campus events as well, such as Saints Ball and Conversat! I guess everybody wants to get in on the fun!

It is needless to say that the spirit of nature has always embodied Canadian society, and the newest allure of Trin students subjecting themselves to wading through the snow in the bitter cold for no good reason is nothing new. Sometimes stereotypes simply reinforce themselves. But there’s still a deep fear in me that we may take this encapsulation of the Canadian explorer too far. I know, first it’s all good times and snowball fights and campfires.

But who knows? Maybe we’ll start wondering if Vic students are really using their land properly? Are we sure there’s no gold underneath the Varsity Centre? Treaties with Innis?? Queens Park could use a pipeline, right??? Alas, I digress.

Perhaps the lawn in front of St. Hildas was not enough grass to quench the pioneering desire of these modern-age students.

Perhaps the imminent threat of an entire snowbank falling on them from the Strachan roof isn’t dangerous enough for these thrill-seekers. Or maybe the “Winter Path” signs in the quad

The outdoors is the new indoors, but don’t be alarmed. I doubt the LIT will start their in-the-blizzard debates until we are long graduated. And meetings with Ramata under a tree in Queen Park won’t be for a couple semesters yet. Until then, we indoorsy people can still hold onto our crowns for just a bit longer while the rest of them frolic through the acidic Toronto snow. Cheers and good luck.

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Please,GiveYourself a Break By: Isabella Sell When asked to compose a reflective piece on being a third-year student, I admittedly struggled. Third-year is the epitome of a “limbo” year, and this is not easy to convey in concrete words.

Naturally, I thought of some of the things weighing on my little third-year brain: residence, health and diet, family, credits, GPA, grad prospects, relationships, summer placements, post-grad living situation, job, pension, etc. While this may be a slight exaggeration, but a mild one at that, what I’m trying to relay is how many things we typically have to juggle as students. I feel this is particularly applicable to the latter years in which you are expected to have the next 3-5 yearsplanned out while also trying to make sur e you give yourself time to breathe.

In times of stress, we are often told to turn to the good ol’ favourite; mindfulness. Personally, I have found mindfulness helpful with day-to-day stress: this is what this piece will focus on. It is important to note, however, that with the kind of stress school selflessly

provides us with, we often are in need of a different approach. That’s where options such as counselling come in, which can be helpful and lift a weight off the shoulders.

But again, counselling can also be extremely taxing. The process of divulging your thoughts and feelings to a stranger is in no easy feat and you often feel like you are giving more than you are receiving. Also, there are no “direct” results. Your mind is on so many things that is constantly trying to find a balance, and on top of this, we put more pressure on ourselves to be achieving at our highest potential. Put simply, school and everything that comes along with it is a lot. As such, I decided I would focus my piece on ways to combat that cloud-over-the-head feeling (lol what an understatement).

The two primary things I turn to when trying to combat stress, besides friends who are also normally feeling similarly, is an app of some kind or, my tried and tested favourite, a book. An app I have found to be extremely useful is “Headspace.” It often comes highly recommended by parents and teachers alike and, at first, I was doubtful. “Headspace” is founded upon the premise that mindfulness is essential in producing a clearer, healthier and therefore happier mind” sounded a bit too easy. Out of curiosity, I turned to MerriamWe b s t e r ’s dictionary.

Mindfulness is defined as “the practice

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of maintaining a nonjudgmental state of heightened or complete awareness of one’s thoughts, emotions, or experiences on a moment-to-moment basis.” My first thought upon reading this, naturally, was “well, easier said than done.” Terms such as “nonjudgmental” and “complete awareness” seem so distant I struggled to see the point in trying. However, HoC Christine and I decided to give it a go, and I entered her account login details. Not having time to use the app in the day because of allllll the other things we deal with day-to-day, I started using the app before going to bed.

I particularly liked the 5-minute episodes or the nighttime stories. These didn’t really feel like a mindfulness session, but rather provided a small space for me to just breathe and try and clear my mind as best I could. As with anything, using the app takes practice. Some nights I struggle to clear my head, yet some nights I find my session particularly productive. This is not an advert for Headspace in any way, but I would say give it a try because you may surprise yourself.

More recently, I have turned to books. I am currently reading The Unexpected Joy of the Ordinary by Catherine Gray, and am absolutely loving it. I discovered it through hearing an interview with Gray on the radio, in which she talked about the “hedonic treadmill,” a phrase coined by two psychologists in the 70s to explain a psychological phenomenon called “hedonic adaptation.” The chapter explains how we are neurologically programmed to never truly be satisfied: “the quest for satisfaction is a never-ending belt.” The “hedonic hotspot” in the brain is the “nucleus accumbens, and it is not a fan of the ordinary.” She claims that, as a society, “we are hypnotized by the promise of being better . . . Once you have a driving license, you want a car. Once you’re renting, you want to buy.” Gray goes on to explain how consumerism capitalizes off ofthe hedonic treadmill as well as giving advice with how to overcome it.

Reminding myself this is not a book review, I will sign off with this.

Please order this book; download Headspace. It will actually change your life. It’s definitely making a difference in mine.

Talking to Strangers‌ in Trinity?

A College Alums Take on Modern Student Interactions

By Vikram Nijhawan

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Malcolm Gladwell began his remarkable journey as an undergrad, at none other than our beloved institution, Trinity College. After graduating, he pursued a career in journalism, working as a science writer for The Washington Post, before moving on to The New Yorker, where he’s been a staff writer for more than two decades. He catapulted to fame with his many books, which include Outliers, Blink, The Tipping Point, and most recently, Talking to Strangers. In his podcast, Revisionist History, he explored events and people which have been “overlooked and misunderstood,” explaining their greater significance.

“Sometimes the best conversations between strangers allow the stranger to remain a stranger,” or so argues Malcolm Gladwell in the opening of his recent bestselling book, Talking to Strangers. This adage arose from an encounter Gladwell’s father had with an unknown celebrity in a New York hotel years back.

Graham Gladwell, a purported pop culture neophyte, had absolutely zero knowledge of this famous man with whom he was chatting. Yet, according to his son, they had a lovely conversation about gardening.

There are few who avidly interact with as many strangers as Malcolm Gladwell. In fact, one could argue his entire career was founded on this premise.

Most of Gladwell’s writings are compilations of anecdotes, conversations with strangers about their unique life experiences, which convey a larger theme. As a former investigative reporter and social science enthusiast, he’s adept at deciphering the complexities we normally face in such situations: getting complete strangers to open about things which matter to them. I think everyone, especially the students at Gladwell’s alma mater, could learn a thing or two from the principles laid out in his recent book, which explores these interactions.

The central question propelling Gladwell’s inquiry in Talking to Strangers is, “Why do our interactions with strangers so often go wrong?” The examples he provides range from Neville Chamberlain’s policy of appeasement towards Adolf Hitler, to Bernie Madoff’s success in deceiving Wall Street for years, to the

soaring rates of sexual assault cases on college campuses. There’s a common thread, Gladwell argues, running between each of these incidents, which is the inability of individuals to properly diagnose a malicious stranger’s intention. The tools we use to make sense of unfamiliar people on a daily basis are actually a hindrance to truly understanding them. The question I ask is, should we be worried about that here at Trinity?

It’s no secret that our institute has a certain reputation for academic elitism. I mean, there’s a reason we’re regarded as the Slytherin House of UofT, a stereotype all incoming Trinity students have to come to terms with. The people you dine alongside in Strachan are all smart overachievers, quietly confident that they can kick your ass in a game of chess, and unashamed to completely dismember your arguments in a conversation about Aristotelian philosophy. At times, this is discouraging, disheartening, and makes it difficult for first-years to establish strong, trusting friendships.

In this way, Trin is perhaps the best example of an environment that necessitates a proper understanding of strangers.

So, what tools are we misusing when we approach these situations, according to Gladwell? The first is called “Default to Truth,” a psychological concept which says that we are predisposed to, more often than not, believing anything a stranger says. It’s how Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme succeeded for so long, and it may also be leading us to believe some absurd one-upmanship claims made by our fellow collegiates.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with this mindset though, because without it, human beings would’ve never advanced on the evolutionary totem pole. Being constantly distrustful of your neighbour isn’t exactly a solid building block upon which to set a society, and it makes it a lot harder to find friends. Harry Markopolis, the financial fraud investigator who busted Madoff’s operation, isn’t what you’d call mentally-stable, as evidenced

by Gladwell. Constant skepticism, such as that employed by Markopolis, protects us from deceptions, but won’t lead to lasting connections.

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The second principle discussed

by Gladwell is “Transparency,” the notion that a person’s thoughts and emotions will automatically match their expressions and body language. This is what Gladwell aptly deems the “Friends Fallacy.” For better or worse, not everyone we encounter in our daily lives is like Ross Geller, evincing comical perplexment like a bad poker player. In reality, people are far more complex. Many individuals we meet are “mismatched,” making them far more difficult to decipher.

So, if your newfound Trin acquaintance doesn’t burst out laughing at a joke you crack, don’t be discouraged, not everyone can be Ross Geller. But, if you give them a chance they may turn out to be just as good a friend.

Gladwell is certainly proud of his past at UofT and Trinity. That being said, he takes issue with how prospective undergraduates decide which colleges they attend, believing there is far too much emphasis placed on the prestige of the Ivy League schools. When he was interviewed on the podcast, The Tim Ferriss Show, Gladwell proposed his sole requirement for determining the right postsecondary institution: “Is it a place where I find myself late at night, having deeply interesting conversations, with people I like and find interesting? … That’s it. The rest is nonsense.” For many, our college provides that opportunity: scintillating, late-night discussions about meaningful subjects with soon-to-be lifelong friends.

I’d say that is one of the greatest assets of our intimate environment here at Trin, and I reckon Gladwell would agree. But perhaps we’d do well to avoid the traps of “Default to Truth” and “Transparency,” because as he illustrates, these can be detrimental to forming lasting bonds.

In all likelihood, the friend you dine alongside at Strachan will become famous in the future. So, when you inevitably run into them at a fateful hotel, don’t be a stranger. Feel free to enjoy the reunion, catch up, and strike up a genial conversation, just as Graham Gladwell did with that anonymous celebrity. It doesn’t just have to be about gardening, though.

By Marko Kljajic

Reflections of a Former Trinity Don 9

When I was asked to write an article for the Salterrae about Trinity College’s present, I was at a loss. What does one write about the ‘present’ of a place so attached to its past and torn by the future? The article needed to be something inspiring, exciting, and imaginative like every Trinity application essay ever written. It needed to be filled with as much action as a Massey party, as much comedy as the Lit, as much drama as the TCM, as much mystery as the food served at Strachan (especially on Meatless Mondays), as much romance as Trincest, as much inclusivity as the infamous Quad Couch, and as much authority as a High Table Dinner. You get it: as Trin as possible.

Wait! You are probably saying, who is this outsider writing for the Trinity Magazine?

I was a Don at Trinity College between 2017 and 2019. I served Massey and helped students studying political science, but my duties extended to all the students at the College. If you’ve never heard of me, you could probably learn very quickly by asking someone at Trinity. Like all stories though, you’ll hear some good and others bad, some true and others not. Nevertheless, no story is completely fact or fiction; truth is always somewhere in between what is said and what is heard, what is perceived and what is imagined.

Anyway, back to my search for inspiration.

So, what did I do to get inspired? Obviously the first thing everyone does when they’re stuck and seeking inspiration: find inspirational quotes about the theme at hand and pretend like you thought of them yourself. I selected two of the best messages about ‘Trinity’ and ‘Present’ that I could find. I think this one describes this junction of people, politics, and perspectives we collectively call ‘Trinity’ well: “At Trinity College, there was a coterie of the poshest of the posh, people you didn’t

ever see, they were so posh. They went to each other’s rooms and, on weekends, each other’s estates. I preferred to be with the weirdo bunch of raggle-taggle thesps” (Mel Giedroyc).

Was there was ever a quote (other than “Trin loves Trin”) that more accurately described Trinity than this one? A coterie of the poshest of the posh that nobody likes, except for the posh themselves, only because they are so posh? As both an outsider and an insider, I can tell you that Trinity is certainly bougie, but don’t let the posh ideology obscure reality.

Trinity is also the weirdest, paradoxical place around. Where else can you go for a meal and seriously question whether you will leave nourished or malnourished?

Where else can you join in conversation with world-renowned intellectuals and feel simultaneously enlightened and dulled? Where else in the world will you find a bizarre mix of progressive politics combined with an atavistic obsession with past tradition, where demands for culture change and equality coexist with demands for maintaining custom and hierarchy? These contradictions are what made Trinity, ‘Trinity’ (aside from the posh, which is just superficial). It was so in the past, but is it so in the present? Will it be so in the future?

During my tenure as Don (if you didn’t know, I wasn’t actually a student pretending to be one), Trinity underwent some tremendous political and cultural changes. I am not going to get into what had happened but, basically, students lost privileges involving events, alcohol consumption, and how money was spent by student clubs, among other things. Some students saw this as the end of ‘Trinity’, while others celebrated the reckoning.

Most, if they cared at all, were somewhere in the middle of the road. They believed that some things really needed to change, but also did not want to lose whatever it was that ‘defined’ Trinity.

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Whether you lamented, celebrated, or were apathetic to what happened is besides the point. What is important is the ‘present,’ which is explained in this second quote: “It’s being here now that’s important.

There’s no past and there’s no future.

Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. We can gain experience from the past, but we can’t relive it; and we can hope for the future, but we don’t know if there is one” (George Harrison).

It’s corny, but it is pertinent to my final message. Trinity is not the past nor what you are told will be its future. Trinity is a weird, paradoxical place. It can be the best and the worst; often it is both at once. Between the best and the worst, what defines Trinity today, as it did in the past and will tomorrow, are its students. Tradition, custom, whatever you thought Trinity was in the past, was at one point non-existent, even unimaginable. Students thought of these traditions and customs and carried them through the years. What you are told will be the future is only an expectation of it. If Trinity becomes ‘just another College,’as some pessimistically assert, it will be because students let it. The past can only be remembered, but never recovered. The future can be imagined, but never guaranteed.

Trinity is going through changes, many of which are necessary and should be welcomed. Embrace the new reality and adapt. If your entry essays are any indication, you are all creative and intelligent in some way. Build new traditions, new communities, and new memories of your time at Trinity. Make it so when you leave Trinity, you leave it a better place for future generations. Make it so that the bonds you build and the memories you form shape the Trinity of tomorrow.

Make it so you start today, in the present.

Food for Valentines

By Ellie Schoefel

Valentine’s Day is loaded with opinions, emotions, stereotypes, and elaborate marketing schemes, but whether you love it, hate, don’t care for it, or just don’t have time to celebrate, it’s the perfect excuse to go out for great food. The essence of Valentine’s Day is showing love and affection to friends, family, a significant other, and yourself. So take out and stay in, dress up and go out, eat with your friends, loved ones, or just give yourself some love in the form of non-Strachan food. Going out for a traditional 3-course meal is not mandatory: grab drinks, appetizers, share tons of entrees, go out for a decadent chocolate cake, or get late night snacks. Here are some options close to Trinity for every budget, preference, or craving, conveniently divided up by cost (you’re welcome).

$$$

(for those who want to go bougie) Trattoria Nervosa The best Italian food, right in Yorkville and priced accordingly, but you will sell a kidney for the mushroom pasta and their gorgeous pizzas.

Brothers Right above the Bay subway station, this unassuming 30 seat restaurant has a small seasonal menu that changes daily, but its focus on “wine first food” and bringing out complex flavors in simple ways have won it rave New York Times reviews and a place on Toronto’s best restaurant list.

Cafe Cancan For those of you who want to go truly over the top, this romantic French bistro is offering a 5-course Valentine’s Day tasting menu including escargots, foie gras, black truffle gnocchi, and wine pairings.

Byblos A thirty minute pilgrimage, but this Mediterranean restaurant’s black truffle halloumi wood fired pide (turkish flatbread) and entire starter menu is amazing (if you have to pick, eggplant kibbeh all the way).

Perfect for adventurous foodies looking to share a bunch of small plates.

Aloette cozy, casual, comforting, but upscale comfort and French food. A bit of a hike (25 min walk), but worth it for the gnocchi and octopus. Its sister restaurant Alobar in Yorkville has a more lounge than restaurant atmosphere, but its smaller tasting menu and reputation for the city’s best martinis make it a perfect first stop to a longer night.

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(nice atmosphere, more normal prices) Pinkys Ca Phe

The Fortunate Fox

You have to line up early to get a seat for a reason: innovative cocktails and creative Vietnamese food are served in a decked out kitschy, hip, old house. Don’t miss the Tiger milk ceviche or the charcoal grilled korean squid, and for cocktails try the Foco Loco (tropical fruit juice, white rum, muddled herbs, citrus).

Conveniently located across from the Bata Shoe Museum, this spot offers elevated pub food and contemporary cocktails (they also have darts, ski ball, and board games). Get some jacked up gin and tonics (try the Fox News or Send Flowers) and a mix of pub favorites (wings, chicken tenders, nachos), or gourmet dishes (salmon poke, steak frites, pizza, burgers). Entrees range from 15-30$, and cocktails are super reasonably priced from 9-13$

Insomnia Right in the Annex, this casual spot has great comfort food and rotates nightly DJs. They offer a multitude of dining options from an amazing brunch, happy hour, a sit down dinner option (avocado/ smoked chicken/brie sandwich, fried chicken and waffles, and taco sampler are highlights), and a late night bar food menu (their kitchen is open until 2am 7 days a week). Plus they have comfy couches….

$

(mostly under $10 category) El Furniture Warehouse Fun quirky dive bar feel, pub food mostly under $5. Burgers, poutine, perogies, they have it all.

Annex Food Hall

right down Bloor just past Metro, an elevated food court with local specialties. From to-go pasta from Dal Moro’s to giant portions of thai food from Eat BKK, this is great for difficult friends who can never decide where to go.

Most options are around 8-15$

Akai Sushi

Firkin

Quiet and small sushi spot on Harbord with high quality sushi and sashimi. They have all the classics including sushi/sashimi a la carte, teriyaki dinners, udon, don bowls, and takeout/delivery options. If you’re feeling on theme, order the Love Boat, a giant selection of sushi and sashimi for two.

a chain of British themed pubs with a gigantic menu including pub food, burgers, and sandwiches. Lively atmosphere with comfy chairs, great for a bigger group of friends who like to share food and drinks (very reasonable bottles of wine and Sangria pitchers). Close locations include Firkin on Bay, Bloor, and Yonge.

Pho Hung Right down by Spadina crescent, a huge menu with tons of cheap options. Great vermicelli bowls come with crispy spring rolls, and tons of pho with 3 optional sizes.

Magic Noodle

Causal spot on Harbord for takeout hand pulled noodles, stir fries, soups, crispy sandwiches, spring rolls, and dumplings.

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Daddy Os A classic super cheap no frills grab and go pasta place. Get any pasta shape/sauce combo, with the option of doubling your noodles or adding meatballs/ chicken/shrimp/veggies/cheese varieties. Menu also includes giant salads and pitas, breadsticks, and brownies with nothing above 15$

Bonus Pro-Tip for Sugar Fanatics: Pillage Shoppers and Metro post-Valentines for cheap chocolate and candy (they mark most of it down under 2$).

A Boozy Mai Tai Under the Sweltering Sun

TCDS x Cinema Studies

A REVIEW 13

By Emily Larman

Drunken slurs, miniature pink shorts, self-effacing Buttery tables, and Rory Tassonyi? This is Tropical Depression.

As we settle down in our chairs, proud parents, pesky alumni, and eager first-years alike, I realize that in my eighth and final semester, I’ve yet to attend a TCDS production. I must confess, writer and director Alexander Plansky is my sole 2T0 ally in the Cinema Studies Institute, where we have fastidiously perfected our knowledge of mise-en-scène and diegetic scoring over the past four years. I have high expectations. Screenwriting is hard; making people laugh is even harder. The lights dim, painstakingly slowly, and a mildly intoxicated Bruce Clarkson enters stage left (cue Cory Benson).

For someone with no formal experience in the theatre, Plansky presented a promising and engaging initial product.

The turnout proved that the feat was met with success, drawing audiences that TCDS is not typically accustomed to. To keep people genuinely entertained for nearly two hours, and yet still guessing, regardless of the simplicity of the dialogue, is a difficult undertaking to master. While the blocking and execution fell short, Tropical Depression felt like drinking a boozy mai tai under the sweltering sun and white sands of the Florida coast.

With outlandish yet relatable characters and a wondrously utopic fictional world, the production felt comfortably indulgent in all the right ways, tied up with a neat little bow and a sickeningly sweet maraschino cherry on top. 3.75/5.

Tropical Depression is an Agatha-Christie-inspired telling of murder off the coast of Florida in the idyllic depths of Pineapple Key. Spoiler: beloved town fixture Howie Cohen, *a grey-haired Valerio Greganti,* has been murdered under mysterious circumstances and every patron of the Sunset Grill is a suspect. Proud, alcoholic Toronto detective Clarkson now must aid town police chief Angie Esteban in discovering the culprit.

Enter the primary stylistic flaw. Storybuilding can be complicated, and Plansky mastered the art of immersion, transfixing the audience with his keen attention to detail. However, what follows the discovery of the first murder is a lengthy procedural of questioning every. single. possible. suspect of the crime. And then questioning them again. And again. For over half the play.

Now this is a necessary part of the legal process, but it falls short in its efforts to present a dynamic product. Don’t get me wrong, I was riveted up until the very last second, but Tropical Depression’s chief problem is that it simply takes on too much, and can’t deliver on its potential.

There is something profoundly irresistible about seeing people we know perform a version of themselves we have yet to uncover.

Depression’s real promise lies with the unabashed performances, from the incorrigible Josh and Alexa Corrigan to the insufferable Drake and the feisty Dr. Kim, that mollify us into overlooking the stylistic pitfalls. There is something profoundly irresistible about seeing people we know perform a version of themselves we have yet to uncover. There is no doubting the audience was captivated by a wigged Shayan Salesi’s hysterical performance as drug dealer Josh, who sported an accent and Middle America idioms. Or Cory’s endearing portrayal of a selfdeprecating nationalist drunk off one too many piña coladas.

Lovisa Hansen presented as a convincing lanky ginger bombshell, seducing the likes of a wildly impressionable and promiscuous Owen Ward, while Claire Ellis vaunted her teenage angst and faux-rebellion. The character development, amidst a bland backdrop, is clearly Plansky’s strong suit, but delving deeper into dialogue and narrative would have offered more insight into the tropes.

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Inside-Ou t.

A Short Story in Four Parts. Part Three.

The school year had come to an end, summer glistening on the horizon.

Calvin had decided that he must push himself in order to fit in all the things that he wanted to in his last year at school. He would have to work harder than ever to get those final grades he needed, as well as make time to do his applications for graduate school.

Calvin had heard about tree planting from several friends, and although it sounded like brutal labor out in the middle of the wilderness, it paid well.

“You’re going to be uncomfortable all of the time,” one of his friends had said. “You know what? I’m uncomfortable all the time right now, and the only way I’m going to change that is by being extra uncomfortable for a while until it gets better.” If Calvin could pull off a summer of lucrative tree planting, he could work significantly less in the year, and have extra time to do all those things he needed to do.

over an hour of driving to get to that and a tiny little town almost a day away from the city. He felt a grudge rising from the depths, angry that he had to do what he was doing. But, as he heard the wind rustle in the pine trees all around him, Calvin felt humbled and grateful for the opportunity he was given, and a smile crept onto his face. He would take this opportunity and make the absolute most out of it—it was a gift.

By Florian Nagy

missed the thoughts, realizing that he was right where he should be.

As Calvin reflected, he looked up, recognizing what idea he had just come across. His partner had moved on ahead and was lost behind a clump of trees. The sun shone down powerfully from up above. His shoulders were sore, and he just couldn’t get the straps of his bags right, they always slumped to one side or the other. He just couldn’t drink enough water to satisfy The next day, Calvin spent hours his eternally parched throat. But these with hundreds of tiny trees, trudging things didn’t evoke what he could start through the mud. The earth groaned to characterize as childish irritation, in resistance as his spade cut its way he felt content to bear them. through the dirt. Lumbering around, he awkwardly sliced and diced the soil He took another step and shoved his ahead of him, pushing new trees into spade into the ground, once again. the opened spaces. He was not used to, No pouting, he thought, eager to bear nor comfortable with, the work. His the weight, thankful for its existence! muscles ached, and he was sweating all Thankful for the immense body of over. A welling discontent threatened circumstances that had brought him the edge of Calvin’s consciousness as here. It was a privilege to be able to he thought back to his less-demand- actually do such work, to rise above That summer, as the first day of his ing job in the city. A voice in his head the frustration and disappointment of new job finally came around, Calvin whispered that he was working too life and to go and create something, found himself setting a tent up in a hard, that he could get just as far with- himself. clearing in the woods. It had taken out all this effort. Calvin angrily dis15

That night, Calvin talked aimlessly with the other people in the camp. A new window seemed open to him, and his fresh attitude had made all the difference. Calvin’s circumstances hadn’t changed, he hadn’t yet accomplished all that he wanted and yet, his new perspective seemed to satisfy him in a different way. As Calvin said goodnight to his new friends and went to sleep, he felt more at home than he had for a long time.

Several days later, Calvin awoke with a start. It was freezing cold, and not even close to morning. He tossed and turned the rest of the night but was unable to sleep. As he walked through the day’s tracts of muddy land, he kept looking up warily at the thick blanket of clouds that were forming. Soon, the sky erupted and poured down on him.

It was barely 11am.

His partner vented his frustration and moved on. Soon Calvin’s clothes were soaking wet and every movement was twice as difficult. He planted fewer trees than expected, and ended the day feeling unhappy. He was on the ride back home when the cold crept in as his muscles cooled down, and by the time he got back to camp, he was shivering. All the clothes in his tent were damp, and everyone else’s were as well.

Tired and disappointed from the day passed, Calvin went to bed.

The next morning, the damp ground had spawned swarms of flies. They flew around Calvin in a cloud and dogged his every movement. He could feel the bites starting to form on his neck and arms. There wasn’t a moment when he could breathe freely. Despite all of that, Calvin became consumed with the thought of how little work he was doing. The whole reason he had taken this job was to make more money for next school year, yet, his plan seemed

to be crumbling. Calvin had spent two weeks in the middle of nowhere and every time he conquered an obstacle, a new one arose. They never went away on their own, they only subsided while new and ever-increasing challenges manifested themselves. Calvin’s frustration with his disposition had reached its boiling point. He couldn’t even think straight anymore with the incessant buzzing in his ears.

worked. What did he have to do? Why had he failed? He couldn’t remember.

The sun’s evening rays landed on a dark figure by the gate. It was roughly of his own stature and its features seemed more human and well defined than before.

At the end of the day, Calvin walked back to his tent, disheartened. Despite his best efforts, Calvin felt as though the world had conquered him. With this tree planting job, he was barely making above minimum wage and it definitely didn’t seem better than his job back at the café. Calvin’s arms had even started swelling up from the blackfly bites and his neck felt tight; he wasn’t looking forward to seeing that damage. While sitting on the bus ride back to camp and lazily watching the trees passing by, Calvin overheard someone in the seat in front of him talking with her friend about how much she had planted. He quickly converted the number to a dollar amount and his heart sank; this person’s amount was what Calvin had managed in two and a half days of work. Even this far away from his “real” life, others towered above him with seeming effortlessness. He couldn’t get out from under the shadow of giants.

Calvin was eager to fall asleep and be done with the disaster of a day.

The figure answered, “I’m here to stop you from entering.”

The wind blew into his face aggressively, but it didn’t bother him. Calvin was climbing up a hill that looked so familiar. He had seen it before, but couldn’t remember when. He saw a shining light ahead and froze in place. He didn’t advance any further, for something in the corner of his outlook warned him of what was about to happen. Calvin had tried to grab it before, to get to that life and to consume it, but it hadn’t 16

Calvin called out, “Hey there! How can I open this gate? Are you letting no one in?”

Calvin quickly reigned in his discontent and answered. “Why? What have I done to you? I’ve worked harder and harder than I thought I would ever have to. And I did it to get to where I need to be! If anyone deserves to walk through those gates, isn’t it me? I started with so little, but I took what I was given, I took on that burden, and persevered, despite all those around me!”

The figure shifted his head and replied, “No one else is here, it’s only you. And you don’t deserve to enter. What have you done that makes you so great?

Where were you when these trees and this garden were planted? Where were you when the sun was thrown into that well? That light isn’t for you! Go back the way you came!”

Calvin felt the injustice pierce every fiber of his being. All of his efforts were still not enough! He just could never be good enough! He had aimed true, but simply was incapable of getting to where he wanted to be. Calvin screamed in desperation. He deserved more! Didn’t he?

A Life Filled with History: In Conversation with Former Provost Margaret MacMillan

By Sterling Manusco Treasures from the Archives is a College history column, written by amateur Trinity historian Sterling Mancuso. In this edition, Sterling interviews Provost Margaret MacMillan about her academic career, Trinity, and the First World War. Quotations have been edited for clarity and brevity.

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Every Trinity student has seen her before, whether they realize it or not. It is impossible to miss her. Students used to say that her eyes followed them across Strachan Hall. Today, we comment on her unusually bright colours, her unorthodox presentation, and the small exit sign over her right shoulder. That last feature was no accident, but intended by painter Joanne Todd as a jest to mark the end of her tenure at Trinity.

“I like Joanne Todd,” says Margaret MacMillan, award-winning author, celebrated historian, and thirteenth Provost of Trinity College.

“I like her sense of humour; Todd is funny and quirky.” MacMillan clearly likes her portrait, but did she intend for it to look so different from all the others, to be quite so visible a legacy? “Well, I was the first woman, so it was bound to look different anyway.”

Throughout our hour-long conversation, Provost MacMillan maintains seemingly effortless eloquence. She responds to each of my questions without pause, yet her answers do not sound rehearsed, but rather the genuine insights of one of Canada’s leading academics. How did she come to choose Trinity for her undergraduate education? “I didn’t.” She had attended boarding school in England, and had wanted to apply to Oxford or Cambridge, but was convinced otherwise. “My father told me no, I should do my career in Canada – he went to Trinity – and in retrospect, he was absolutely right.”

As a student, Margaret MacMillan took advantage of the full range of activities our College brags about in welcome brochures. She played hockey and field hockey for St. Hilda’s.

She joined the TCDS. While she never stayed in residence (her family lived in Toronto), she was sufficiently popular and/or qualified to be elected non-resident Head of College in her fourth year. As a student, MacMillan took most of her classes in College. I ask her how she settled on history as her major, and I hear a familiar answer: “it was a process of elimination as much as choice. I came in doing English and History, and by the end of my first year I felt I’d really rather do history.”

When talking about her time studying history, MacMillan’s voice fills with a sense of fond

reminiscence and sincere gratitude, “I just happened to be in a year that just happened to have a lot of people who loved history. In those days, you went through everything in lockstep; you know, we’d go out to the pub and just talk about history. We were a very strong year, and we were lucky to be taught by the people we were taught by.” I ask her if she keeps in touch with her fellow students, and she immediately mentions two of Canada’s most eminent historians: Carleton’s Professor Norman Hillmer and Trinity’s own Professor Robert Bothwell.

Four years ago, she worked with Bothwell to organize a reunion dinner for their class, to which seven of their still-living professors also attended. To have been a fly on that wall.

Trinity’s traditions. She mentions that while Provost, people “always used to worry about the cakefight, and what if somebody got hurt.

But the cakefight was fun, and I never saw any harm in it.” For a moment, I am back on the scaffolding outside Henderson Tower, dousing first years with water from above, while wearing nothing in the way of safety equipment.

And then with a word, MacMillan calls me back to the present.

“Episkopon was a problem. It came out of a world in the 1920s and 1930s when people were much more homogenous at Trinity, and

“Trinity has changed just as Toronto has changed.”

In my previous column, I discussed Trinity College’s oldest tradition: debating the merits of traditions. I decided to pose the question to Provost MacMillan herself, asking if, as a historian, she has any insights on whether any given tradition is worth preserving. “It’s hard. You reach a point where certain traditions no longer make sense in the present world.” I push back slightly, and bring up that for some, the very fact that the traditions don’t make sense is what makes them so appealing. MacMillan doesn’t reject my premise, yet emphasises that we must “judge by the spirit of the time.” People may like gowns for their whimsical nature, but there was a real cost to gender segregation. “Not having women at Trinity didn’t make sense, and so St. Hilda’s was founded. When I was Provost, I thought that having the residences segregated no longer made sense, so I pushed for integration, which I understand has been a success and which people now take for granted.”

Provost MacMillan doesn’t shy away from expressing controversial opinions or handling delicate subjects. This is a feature of her academic writing, but also of her approach to

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people could make jokes about each other. I think it evolved into something that became hurtful. It became unkind. And it became something that was bad for Trinity.”

We canvass a few more traditions, spending some time on high table dinners. MacMillan expresses her view that as at Oxford, it would be best if students were allowed a glass of wine.

She blames our present deprivation on “puritanical Ontario.” I mention that we are allowed to purchase two glasses of wine at Christmas, and she lets out a sarcastic “woo-hoo.” On gowns, MacMillan adopts a somewhat libertarian position: “if people want to wear them, they should. When I was here, we used to have to wear gowns to class. It was great fun, people used to put gowns over their pyjamas and head off to class.”

MacMillan expresses her view that as at Oxford, it would be best if students were allowed a glass of wine.

If MacMillan paints a rather grim picture on historical career prospects, she leaves no doubt as to the value of the study of history, and of historical method. While warning would-be history PhDs, she hastens to add that “on the other hand, doing a history degree can prepare you for other things. Plenty of people do a masters and then go into law, business, or the foreign service. History teaches you to ask good questions, and to handle evidence.”

Margaret MacMillan herself struggled to find a career in history. After Trinity, she obtained a doctorate from Oxford, and shortly thereafter found herself back in Canada and without employment. “There was a huge expansion of universities in the 1960s, but I took too long doing my thesis, and by the time I was done, all the jobs had been filled. I did my thesis on British India, and there were no jobs in Indian history when I returned.”

And then Provost MacMillan says a sentence which I imagine applies to at least half of Trinity’s students and alumni: “I thought seriously about going to law school.”

Although doubtless a great blow to the legal profession, Margaret MacMillan’s historical career was saved by a friend who referred her to a part-time position at Ryerson. Whilst there, a Professor of Chinese history left for another post, and MacMillan was named his replacement. “It was sheer coincidence.

There’s a lot of luck in life.” While this was a true stroke of good luck – both for MacMillan and for academia – MacMillan admits she knew virtually nothing about Chinese history.

When I ask what it was like to teach a subject without prior knowledge, she does not shy from the truth: “Oh, terrifying.” She was

mercifully given a summer to prepare, but she says that in her first year “I was quite often only a week or two ahead of my students.” It may not have been her background, but she was clearly very grateful for the posting. “I ended up teaching Chinese history for several years. It was great, I loved it.”

My first introduction to Margaret MacMillan was winter 2016, when I read Paris 1919.

It left a profound impression on my younger self, and played a role in pushing me to attend Trinity. I now ask her what inspired her to write on the Paris Peace Conference, and whether it had anything to do with her family relation to David Lloyd George, Britain’s Prime Minister at the time. “I am a great granddaughter of Lloyd George and, if anything, that fact pushed me away from writing about him. I thought that whatever I’d write people would say ‘well you would say that.’ So when I started to write about the Paris Peace Conference it was because I was interested in the subject and not him.”

MacMillan didn’t want to be associated with Lloyd George, and in fact didn’t mention the connection to her publishers. “Afterwards my publishers told me it would have been rather a good thing for publicity, but I just thought, I want to be taken on my own merits.” She discusses how she started her research with a rather negative view of her great grandfather – one she calls conventional. However, the more she read, the more she came to think Lloyd George did rather a good job, and the more she questioned the mainstream view.

MacMillan’s views on Lloyd George are not her only unconventional opinions in Paris 1919. I read to her some lines from her conclusion, where she argues that the Treaty of Versailles did not lead to the Second World 19

War. I mention how this is the opposite of what I learnt in school, and ask her why so many people seem to believe the opposite, that the Treaty of 1919 caused the war of 1939. She provides three reasons: John Maynard Keynes wrote a scathing criticism of the Treaty in 1919, saying that it set the stage for future conflict. “He later on modified his views, but that’s not what people remember.”

Her second reason is that the German government of the 1920s played a very successful propaganda campaign against the Treaty, but I think it is her last reason which holds most sway: “It’s easy. It’s easy to say that that 1919 led directly to 1939.”

I decide to tease out another controversial opinion from MacMillan – an opinion at odds with my high school history teachers. I ask her whether the First World War was an “unmitigated catastrophe in a sea of mud,” or actually about something. “It was about something. People who fought in it thought it was about something. And I think we have to be very careful in the present not to just say that they were all idiots, and that we know better.”

But what was it that people thought they were fighting for? “Most thought they were fighting to defend something. The Germans thought they were fighting to defend against the ‘Slavic hordes,’ the Russians thought they were defending against the ‘Teutonic hordes,’ the British thought they were fighting to defend a way of life and wanted to prevent Germany from dominating Europe, and the French were fighting to defend their homes. It was a dreadful war, it damaged European society probably forever, but at the time they all thought they were fighting for something important.”

Having let her explain her more controversial historical opinions, I ask MacMillan what it was like to become famous. She deflects with some obligatory modesty, but then provides a meaningful insight into the cost of fame.

“Well luckily if I did become famous – and I’m not very famous – I was old enough to deal with it. I don’t know how young rock stars deal with it. You know you’re 17 and suddenly the world’s at your feet. I’m not surprised so many of them don’t make it into their 30s.” Fortunately for Trinity, the book came out as she was applying to be Provost.

We will never know for sure if it was the deciding factor, but MacMillan believes that Paris 1919 was very helpful in establishing her credentials for the Provostship.

I ask MacMillan what it was like to come to her alma mater as Provost, and she casually mentions that she’s actually done it twice now, having later been named Warden of her

Oxford graduate college. “One of my brothers said that if I keep this up, I can be principal of my local school when I’m 90.” MacMillan may adore history, but her ambitions as Provost were forward-thinking. Indeed, likely her most significant initiatives for student life was the desegregation of residences – a radical departure from the College’s history.

“I felt we needed to integrate the residences, I did think that was important.” When I ask why it took so long to accomplish this aim, MacMillan talks about an exhaustive two-year consultation period, and resistance from both men and women who worried that Trinity proper and St. Hilda’s would lose their respective ethos. She doesn’t put much stock in this argument, suggesting that the decline of a distinctive St. Hilda’s spirit has far more to do with the end of meal service in Melinda Seaman. I ask the former Provost for her opinion on the movement to end single-sex

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social houses. “I think it should be; it should be more floor-by-floor.”

Our time is coming to an end, and I want to pose one final, potentially controversial question. Given the value we place on identity, is Trinity College best led by an insider or by an outsider? As always, she answers without hesitation. “I don’t think it matters. Somebody who comes from outside can care just as much. I don’t think I had any particular insight into Trinity from the fact I had come from here, and anyway it had changed so much from the forty years since I’d been here.” Did any changes in particular stand out? “Well, the composition of the student body. When I was here, everybody looked like me, with names like MacMillan or Smith.”

“Trinity has changed just as Toronto has changed. It’s so much more interesting.”

Literary love stories to make you realize that you’re not worthy of human connection and will die alone but what does it matter since our watery rock is gonna be swallowed up by the sun soon anyways.

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By Mila Yarovaya

The days are getting colder, school work is getting tougher, winter festivities are floating away along the Lethean stream, and that dreaded beacon of loneliness and capitalist decay, Valentine’s Day, is once more reaching its pernicious claws into our lives. So, fellow members of the cult-like organization known as Trinity College, let’s immerse ourselves in love, and by that, I mean stories of love. ‘Cause what other love are we gonna come by while locked away in our rooms eating a box of chocolates while coming to the realization that we’ll have to spend our love on domesticated animals for the rest of our lives, and finally coming to terms with the only true reality— say it with me—THAT YOU ARE A TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING NOT WORTHY OF LOVE. And if you’re already in a relationship then grasp the inadequacy and mundaneness of your attachment. Let’s jump in!

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov Starting out not with a whimper but a bang, I offer you the semi-autobiographical masterpiece of the one and only Mikhail Afanasievich Bulgakov.

The first thing you’ll have to do when you pick up this book is to throw all your expectations out the window.

Centered on the devil’s exploits in 1930s Moscow, this story is filled with vampires, witches, hypnotics, dark magic, Pontius Pilate, and even Soviet bureaucracy - perhaps the biggest evil you’ll encounter in this print. But amid all this is the poignant depiction of a man crushed by the system and the woman willing to do everything to save him. Also, rage—so much righteous rage and female badassery that it will leave you wanting to abandon all your previous lovers and fall in love with a tortured artist just so that you can demolish and flood the apartment of his critic while flying above Mos-

cow on your broom. And, honestly, if you’re not willing to host Satan’s annual ball to save your lover from the psych ward then is your love even valid? If all else fails, fall in love with Behemoth the Cat who will never cease to amaze you with sharp one-liners and misdemeanors.

country while holding on to who they were before. The love story is tender and sweet and has one of the few positive depictions of a Russian character in western literature, which your columnist greatly appreciates.

The Violent Century by Lavie Tidhar Come for the superheroes, stay for the gripping depiction of humanity and hopeless love amid the past century’s bloodiest conflicts. This book is woefully overlooked for reasons that will always be astounding to me since it not only deals with the idolization of celebrities but also with the effects of PTSD, what it really means to be a hero, and love in all its forms—be it friendship love, romantic love, or something in between—while giving a history lesson on the useless manmade conflicts of our past. Equal parts gut-wrenching and hopeful, this book will make you realize that sometimes the purest love isn’t grounded in romance, even if we really want it to be, and that in the end, we’re just lonely people looking for someone to make the abyss a little more bearable.

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell If it were up to me, this book would be the required reading material for any nerdy freshman with unfounded ambition and a needy family. If you are such and haven’t read this, then get out of bed right now and run to the nearest Indigo to snag yourself a copy of this gem. While I must confess that I first read this when I was a high school freshman, there remains little else that I’ve read that I related to more. This whole book is like a warm cup of tea as you navigate the loneliness and uncertainty of young adulthood while trying to hold on to your childhood dream and rethink your identity alongside the lovable and absolutely relatable Cath. Also, this book has one of the most awkward and realistic, while still romanticized, depictions of first love. Warning: side effects might include trying to find yourself a Honourable mention: A Long Fatal wholesome midwestern boy studying Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott agriculture to fall in love with.

This book has been on my reading list for a few years now but it’s very hard Group Portrait with Lady by Hein- to track down. Thus not having read rich Böll it, I cannot attest to its merit. But, if It’s hard to pin down exactly who is you manage to get your hands on it in love with whom in the work of before me - scandalous!- then prepare this late Nobel Prize-winning writer. yourself for a story of love between What is for certain is that this entire a girl and the literal devil along with book reads like a love story from the their European escapade and destrucmysterious investigator author to the tive romance into which it turns. object of his obsession, Leni Pfeiffer, whom he is slowly spiraling into and I hope this humble selection will beto the bottom of whose life and love witch your mind and ensnare your he is trying to get. What unfolds is senses and help you understand that all the story of the intertwining lives of you need instead of a candle-lit dinner people ravaged by war and who are is a cup of tea, a book, and a face full of trying to build a life in a new time and chocolates which will help you come to terms with your impending loneliness.

22 Stay salty, Trin!

Vent with Vicky: The Third I am writing to you on the 12th day of 2020.

Deadlines? Too many. Work completed this weekend? Not enough.

New Year Resolutions? Down the drain. Dry January? A bust.

Advice? Plenty as always.

How do I avoid Trincest but also live up 2020? Tell me your secrets Fun fact: there are 88,766 people at this university! Spend less time within the college and more time exploring neighbouring libraries/study spaces as well as bars and clubs, and you will successfully avoid Trincest while simultaneously living up 2020. This is my secret. Xoxo gossip girl.

What’s your favourite crime?

UofT’s mark return policy …….. I ~know~ the university is closed during the break but that’s not going to stop me from checking ACORN every morning and night even though I know all my marks will arrive Monday morning of the new semester all at once haha cheers to the holiday stress !

After being home for the break I’ve done lots of thinking and I have to break up with my boyfriend. He doesn’t support me and my dreams, and whatever I do, I can only come in second with him. I need to focus on me because I’m important and I’ve lived too long thinking I’m not.

Although I feel quite unqualified to answer this, I say go with your gut! You and your dreams come before any man, and I am glad that you are finally choosing you. Wait for the guy that puts YOU first. I wish I could be of more help, though you seem to be set on your decision. You got this.

Vent to me! Vent with me! Vent about me!

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Hi Vicky,

How do you pronounce ur last name

I’m graduating this year, and I’m full of doubts and fears about going out into the *real world*. Any suggestions?

Topical question because last night my dad informed me at dinner that after 21 years of living with this name I actually pronounce it WRONG. Much to think about. Pronounce it however you want.

Xoxo An anxious 2T0

Scooby doo

Hi anxious 2T0,

Looking for something to spice up your next Strachandebate-over-dinner? Look no further:

I am also an anxious 2T0 terrified of going out into the real world. *Victoria Justice voice*: I think we’re ALL anxious 2T0’s terrified of entering the real world.

If I ever find out how to deal with the anxiety of adulting I’ll let you know. For now, I’ll fill you in on a well-known secret: adults are also filled with doubts and fears. It’s called imposter syndrome. Take it one step at a time and go at your own pace!

The real world can be cool sometimes too. For example, there are no finals week in the real world! Positive vibes.

Xoxo A 2T0 who is currently changing her five year plan for the 50th time this year.

PS: Points for the format, nice!

Hooking up with KA or Welch boys? “thank u, next - Ariana Grande” - Me

I turn 20 this year… YIKES!! Best advice for conquering 20?

As a 21-year-old, my extra year of seniority and wisdom allows me to bestow the following advice upon you: to conquer any age is to be better to yourself and others than you were last year.

How do I politely tell my friends who constantly talk about grades and grad school to fuck off?

Professional answer: change the subject! :) Personal answer: In the wise words of legendary Pulitzer Prize winner Kendrick Lamar, tell them “bitch be humble, sit down.” Don’t get me wrong, grades/grad school/academic achievements are awesome and they very much have the right to be proud of themselves! Go friends!! There is however a fine line between that and being an asshole about your achievements.

Vent to me! Vent with me! Vent about me!

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Sex Positions for Whatever Position You are in Life

Valentine’s Day Edition... By Barb and Carol Happy V-Day you porn-addicted perverts! It’s us, your two favourite degenerate housewives, back in business, back to the back door, back to giving all you worms some *muchneeded* advice and suggestions. We swear to Strachan, this holiday is the Worst. Thing. Ever. At least since condoms (but still, use protection kiddos). There is nothing worse than having to suffer through mushy couple posts on instagram, with their faces smushed together as they hold some sort of cliché arrangement of roses and chocolates. Vom! Tbh, we’d rather be snuggled under the covers with someone (Ryan Reynolds and/or Margot Robbie and/or Michael B. Jordan . . . the list goes on . . . let a housewife dream!). Although we suppose, if one was to be philosophical about it, we do love a good holiday that provides a reason to fuck like rabbits. Personally, we use Valentines Day as an excuse to buy new sex toys and bang our way through Trinity College and/or Toronto and/or our husband’s family. But enough about us. We like to think of ourselves as givers, both in bed and in advice, and so we present to you the following sex positions that align with whatever position you are in life this V-Day:

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Let’s talk about sex ba-by. Let’s talk about you and me (and maybe that cute bartender from last night) 1. Stimulation for the Single Soul We all know that true love is really just a charged vibrator. This Valentine’s Day consider lighting some candles, dimming the lights, and going down south where the river flows, or however the saying goes. Go to town! Please yourself! And please, try to keep it down when you O. The walls are really thin, you know. If you’re looking for somewhere to buy yourself some new toys, we recommend Good For Her on Harbord Avenue. #notevensponsored #goodforher #goodforYOU If sexual stimulation isn’t quite hitting your G-spot this love season, try some spaghetti with some good ol’ sugo for your single soul - hit up Sugo on Bloor St West. #notevensponsored #getlostinthesauce We recommend the rigatoni. And the waiters. Mostly the waiters but the rigatoni is fire too.

2. Doggy for the Degenerates Degenerates - you can shimmy on down to the Duke and begin your delightful dalliance with a round of dirty martinis for you and your date. Feel like getting spicy? Dabble in a little bit of Doggy next. This one here is a personal favourite of Barb’s, due to its impersonal nature. Don’t want to see the face of the stranger who seemed SO cute ten drinks ago? Doggy is the one for you then, this Valentine’s Day. Besides, while they’re busy going to pound town, you can quickly check the texts from your side piece, swipe on tinder, and even Facetime your mom -

she could always use some extra love.

3. Cum-a Sutra for the Clingy Couples Yeah yeah, we know the only reason any of you are even in couples is so that you can consistently get yours - we’ve been there.

And that’s why this Valentine’s Day - as you pretend, yet again, to ‘love’ your significant other- we recommend taking a page (or two, or five, or ten, depending on how good your stamina is) out of a kama sutra guide.

Basic positions like 69 are out the door this year - enough of the child’s play. Our current favourite - try the G-Whiz - just make sure you stretch first.

Alternatively, take that clingy ass of you and yours down to Collingwood for a romantic weekend away from the rest of society. No one wants to see how in love you are anyways. Besides, there’s nothing sexier than getting to be as loud as you want.

your S.O. to some much needed relaxation time at a spa. Literally the happiest we’ve ever felt is sitting in a lavender-milk bath knowing that a brooding man with muscles was about to rub us down. Just maybe don’t tell whoever you’re with that.

5. Gang bang for the Galentines Looking for an easy way to up your body count? Look no further. This V-Day, find yourself a group of five or so sexually active and liberated people, and get that gang 5. bang on. Why commit to only one person when you can have so many more?

Don’t feel like getting down and dirty with your friends but still want to bond? We suggest throwing a small get-together for you and your closest single pals. Put on La La Land and pour some wine and you’ll have a perfect night in with your friends while avoiding the PDA outdoors.

4. Anal for the Anals U of Tears really hits hard sometimes, and the only thing to hit harder is doing it from behind. That shit slaps. Pun intended. If you’re busy trying to get that 4.0 while interning on King Street and rescuing strays in your spare time, this position is for you.

Loosen up a little. Relax. And make sure to invest in a lot of lube.

So there you have it, you little worms. With Valentine’s Day sooner than we hoped for, it’s time for us to book our mani pedis, get our wax on, buy some sex toys, call our sugar daddies for new lingerie, and raid LCBO. You know that we’re going to be super busy and we expect nothing less from you.

Not into butt stuff? Can’t relate. But if you’re feeling stressed and want another way to relieve some tension we recommend taking

Barb and Carol

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XOXOX

By Jess Horton

Happy New Year, Trinity! Although we weren’t able to spend the whole decade together, we’re a big family now - shout out to Trincest! - so who better to reminisce over the best moments of the past decade with?!

Here is a list (list!) of my favourite moments of the decade:

2010 •

•

The beginning of our prepubescent-selves starting to blossom into our awkward phases… What a time it was to be alive.

It was the summer of signing California Gurls on the way to the beach and shouting Rolling in the Deep at the top of our lungs.

The year we were blessed with Lady Gaga’s meat dress and the reality rollercoaster of Inception, in which good ‘ole Leo DiCaprio still haunts our deepest dreams (or fantasies, I don’t judge).

Sure, important things like the winter Olympics happened, but come on, we all know the best thing to come out of 2010 was the forming of One Direction!

Top Moments of the

Decade 2014 •

2011 •

I don’t know about you, but all I cared about in 2011 was learning how to not ugly-cry during the final Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II movie (FYI: I didn’t succeed), and how aesthetically pleasing Will and Kate’s royal wedding would be. Need I say more? Probably, but I won’t.

2012 • • •

Gangnam Style.

Call Me Maybe. … Oh boy. Those were dark times for us all.

Although most of us were in high school by 2014, other things were happening other than hallway gossip and pep rallies. Prime examples: The Ice Bucket Challenge and Ellen’s Oscars selfie breaking the Internet..

2013

•

• • •

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This was definitely a year for the books. We can probably all admit that we made countless videos of the Harlem Shake and Cup Song during all sleepovers, parties and lunch recesses. What Does the Fox Say became viral (oh, how peaceful the world was before this song destroyed our eardrums!). Pre Tik-Tok! Frozen hit theatres, giving us the shower-signing material we didn’t even know we needed.

Our one true love, The Office, ends in the most perfect way… did anybody else ugly-cry too? Only me? Ok, cool.

Queen Beyoncé drops her surprise album and shook the whole world … If that’s not power, I don’t know what is.

2019 •

2018 •

•

A year of beginnings and ends. To start with the beginnings, we had another royal wedding, this time with bad boy, at the time HRH, Prince Harry and fabulous Meghan Markle. The gown, the guest list, the AmericanBritish drama! *swoons.* Now, not so much . . .

Another great beginning for us lucky Canadians was the legalization of weed (just in time for midterm season!).

Last but not least, the end of Game of Thrones. The Iron Throne was filled? Arya lived happily ever after with Needle? Jon and Sam opened a bakery? Who knows! I personally haven’t finished the series yet (yeah, yeah, I know don’t judge me), so please no spoilers. The spreading of spoilers may or may not result in a duel.

• •

• • • •

What a year this has been. The Spice Girls reuniting for a tour gave us wannabe-90s-kids the chance to see them in action.

Greta Thunberg became the coolest person to ever grace this planet. Millennials and older were cranky about it. Greta also graced our Twitter feeds with ICONIC Trump roasting.

The Jonas Brothers got back together!!! This was honestly my year’s highlight, and I don’t regret it one bit.

2T3 - aka the worst year ever - arrived at Trin.

Baby Yoda memes were literally everywhere. There was no escape.

Frozen II

2017 •

2010 - 2019

2017 was one for the girls! The fierce explosions of the Women’s March and #MeToo Movement took center stage in most political and entertainment realms. This was another new surge of powerful feminist figures reminding the world of what women are capable of!

Other notable events were: the rise of the Fidget Spinner (followed in most cases by its banning in classrooms around North America) and the La La Land vs. Moonlight Oscars fiasco! Yikes!

•

2016 • •

2015 • • •

•

Was the dress #blackandblue or #whiteandgold? We’ll never know now!

50 Shades of Grey “Hotline Bling.”

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LEO FINALLY WINS AN OSCAR!! - but then we couldn’t joke about Leo not having an Oscar anymore.

Although Leo’s Oscar was monumental, the year went on to see the end of our beloved Vine app. We were able to push through, however, with the help of our trusty Pokémon Go. Lastly, after what seems like a century of U.S. presidential campaigns, Trump is elected President. (I’m not going to make this political, but I was not a happy camper).

The year 2T0 graduated from high school.

Awful.

“Closer” by the Chainsmokers and Halsey is released. 2T0 anthem.

Terrified, Clueless, and Sarcastic A guide to my self-imposed path to destruction (and how I plan to avoid it)

By Maria Villarreal

O, self-deprecating humour, what shall I do without thee? You’ve been my most loyal companion through the years, from my childhood dreams of being a Disney star, to my most recent creative dreams, you’ve been there to make the pain of rejection softer.

You see, dear audience, I find that, by making self-effacing jokes, I will make my worries more relatable and less serious. And, I mean, don’t we all?

No one? … No? That’s cool too.

The truth is that I am truly, completely terrified about what the future holds, and I’ve come to find that being sarcastic about it just doesn’t help in addressing and solving the issue anymore. I keep saying that my hardwork and determination in double majoring in Literature and Critical, and Book and Media Studies has paid off with nothing more than a great knowledge on the importance of texts in society.

… and that’s it. I’m completely unemployable.

Every internship I apply to requires a minimum of two years experience, spotless social media accounts and, of course, a degree in Media or Communications, none of which I possess.

And everytime anybody asks me how I’m doing I respond “I’m fine! This is fine.”

Sarcasm and self-deprecating humour became my personal method for dealing (or, rather, not dealing) with anything that scared me.

It was how I alleviated the pressures of the future, which stemmed from this idea that I have to fulfill a certain role because, if I’m not successful (and by successful I mean rich, professionally accomplished, happily married) then I have failed. Somehow, somewhere, I must’ve done something wrong.

Now, I can’t leave sarcasm behind altogether—it’s too useful too often, but I do think that it’s time for me to take my life more seriously (not too seriously, but just a bit more).

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I’ve grown so used to hearing people criticize my efforts in a diminishing way, followed by a typical “I’m just teasing” or “Why are you so sensitive” that’s somehow supposed to make me forget that I am not ten times less confident than I was a few minutes prior; that I’ve become that which I swore to destroy, my own worst enemy, my own worst critic. I started saying that I wasn’t good enough.

And I truly believed it.

But that was okay, because it was funny.

And no, I haven’t figured out life, and I have no idea of what will become of me, and that truly terrifies me to my core. But I’ve come to realize that by making jokes about it I’ve forced myself to wonder if there might be any truth to any of those jokes.

You know what? Maybe there is. But I would rather focus—seriously focus—on being the best version of myself I can be.

By Nikki Putric

Pub!c “Trinsportation”:

Why Commuting Is More Than Comme Ci, Comme ca As a first-year Trinity College commuter student I’m often asked, “Do you wish you lived on residence?” Of course, there are times I do, but commuting has surprisingly become one of the most interesting and eye-opening parts of my day (and it hasn’t prevented me from meeting and spending time with fellow Trinity students). Riding the subway to and from campus has allowed me to get to know Toronto and its people very intimately, perhaps more intimately than if I were living on residence. In fact, after learning about a new TTC initiative aimed at tackling depression and suicide, commuting has become one of the highlights of my day. In an effort to ease people’s private pain, the TTC is turning to commuters for help and asking passengers to speak to one another. So now, when I’m underground, I talk to strangers. I do this on elevators too, and sometimes even at crosswalks when waiting for the walk signal. And you know what? The strangers I cross paths with while running back and forth from school every day are just as inspiring and indelible as the friends I’m making at Trinity College.

Here it is, a day in the life of one commuter student. Enjoy the ride!

9:15 AM Step on the elevator and ooh and aah over the English Bulldog; play a quick game of peekaboo with the baby; and just as the elevator reaches the ground floor, say “Enjoy your day!” to the man with the stiff upper lip. The doors open and I sprint to the subway station like I’m some kind of wannabe Andre De Grasse.

9:30 AM Board the Southbound train and sit beside two guys who are arguing over which basketball player is the GOAT – Jordan or LeBron. Ten minutes in, I say “Excuse me guys, I don’t know much about basketball,

but the Jordan versus LeBron debate was apparently settled by the Harvard and Yale debate teams. LeBron is King, but Jordan is God.” They both lose it. We all know Kobe was the real one anyways.

mine and he’s enrolled in one of those gruelling Trinity One Programs. I don’t know how he does it!

10:15 AM Get off at Queen’s Park and stop to watch and listen to a busker playing “Amazing Grace” on his flute. You know, the famous hymn whose words were penned by English slave trader John Newton but whose melody, some say, was written by an unnamed slave. I thank the flutist, place something in his case, and walk away shaking my head in disbelief, for his performance, posture, and embouchure were impeccable.

4:00 PM Returning to Robarts, I bump into someone I met at Matriculation, now a close friend. I recall our High Table dinner conversation and how she beautifully responded when I asked her why she was taking a physics course she didn’t require: “Why would I deprive myself of the enjoyment of physics?”

Wow!

11:00 AM Head to Robarts Library to study and escape the cacophony of construction sounds that wake me and my sister up every morning at “stupid o’clock” (those in charge don’t give a fill in the blank about noise bylaws). On the way, I wave hello to a fellow Trinity student and think, “I swear he’s magic!” Need to know if an event is taking place, done. Need a student’s number, done.

Want to meet so-and-so, done. This is your “six degrees of separation” man!

6:30 PM Arrive early for this two-hour lecture and sit next to a fellow Trinity undergrad, possibly the most amiable and easygoing person I’ve ever met. He’s a polyglot, a linguistic genius who speaks four (maybe five) languages. Every time I see him I think to myself, “I should learn a second language.

Russian, German, Arabic, French, maybe Latin!”

1:00 PM Lunching at The Buttery with an international student I met at Spring Orientation. His company is calming and his conversation intelligent. I’m convinced he’s a scholar in Chinese history. We hug goodbye and promise to meet again.

2:00 PM While waiting for the TA, I read about another amazing event being hosted by the Non-Resident Affairs Committee. Perhaps I’ll attend and invite a fellow Trinity commuter I know to join me. I’m certain this guy has more hours in a day than the rest of us.

His commute is more than twice as long as

3:00 PM Lecture

5:00 PM Tutorial

9:30 PM Board the Northbound train and hear a man shouting, “Hey! Hey fellows!”

I recognize him, he’s a regular on the subway. This man (who I assume is of no fixed address) is a hustler, but not any ordinary hustler. He walks up and down the subway aisle and solicits money only from the men, never the women. He does well. The male passengers are generous and when he sits back down, women walk by him and hand him their spare change. I’m not sure if he’s being chivalrous or strategic, but I recall the new TTC initiative and, just before arriving at my stop, walk over to him, smile, hand him a few dollars, and say “Goodnight.”

Procrastination at Trin by reece young It is weird for me that I am already writing my third article. How is it midterms already? Next week is reading week, and soon enough, it’ll be Conversat? Time is flying and since returning from the winter break, I’ve felt like chaos. I just haven’t been able to find the rhythm that I so naturally stepped into at the start of first-year. Is this the inverse what other people have experienced?

Anyway, as seems to be the trend with my romanticized writing in the Salt, I’m going to use this article as an ego-infused method to deconstruct the overdramatized phenomena that make up my life. As I try to get to the bottom of it, a few likely areas worth investigating come to mind: Res parties (shoutout Margaritaville), Women of College, and over-confidence in my lastminute task-completing ability.

Okay, so let’s start with the partying. It happens. It’s fun. It’s Trin. For most Trin students, it probably isn’t much of an issue, but I’ve got limited self-control and a tendency for hangovers so brutal that my bed seems a lot more enticing than my politics paper. The parties aren’t likely to stop, and my self-control is unlikely to improve, so let’s move on to the other prospects.

I figured I may as well (briefly, cautiously, ambiguously) bring up the whole WoC contribution to my personal derailment, only because it’s the Valentine’s Day issue.

I have no ambitions to change this either.

After all, of all of the areas under critique here, this is the one that brings more real meaning and emotion than dancing on desks in the Welch Triple or research papers. On average, the WoC - or at least the ones who don’t know better than to avoid me - are smarter, lovelier, and have a better music taste than most women in my previ-

ous worlds. However, the gradual increase in my awareness of this has been troublesome for my academic productivity (but if any of the boys are reading this – I’ll always keep my Saturdays clear, don’t worry).

Okay, so, that brings me to the whole procrastination thing. Probably the most relatable thing for all first years. Truth be told, you’re probably just better at avoiding it than I am. I’ve always procrastinated in life.

Even in grade one, I neglected to draw the phases of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly for so long that I had to do it while Ms whatever-her-name-was was going around the classroom collecting them. It ended up looking less like it was for science class and more like it was for sex-ed.

Sure, an over-emphasis on social interaction has fueled my over-procrastination, maybe screwing me over in the first place.

But it also was my saving grace.

Last weekend, I felt a similar (okay, very much heightened) level of anxiety as I did in that grade one caterpillar class. It was late Sunday afternoon. I had a few assignments due and a midterm the next day that I hadn’t started studying for. I decided I would do what every healthy, astute scholar of Trinity College would do: load up on caffeine and other performance enhancers and set out for a double feature of all-nighters. As the night went on, my brain became

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fuller and fuller with economics as Stedman became emptier and emptier. After a shitty result on a 3 AM practice test, I realized despairingly that this really was going to have to be an all-night escapade. I was feeling alone, anxious, and hopeless. I took a walk to clear my head. When I returned, I glanced at the only remaining student left studying. I didn’t recognize him at all but I saw that he had not only the same stressed look on his face, but the same problem sets and textbooks spread across his workspace.

He was studying for the same midterm as I was. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone. And for me, that did a lot to relieve the stress and hopelessness lumped up inside me.

If you look back at my first article, it was during Frosh week that I realized what made Trinity College so special: here, at the largest University in Canada, human connection is so easy to access, and presents itself when you expect it least and need it most. I introduced myself, and we used each other as a resource for the rest of the night.

Sure, an over-emphasis on social interaction has fueled my over-procrastination, maybe screwing me over in the first place. But it also was my saving grace. I think as first years at Trin, we just need to find the cohabitation of sociality and study. And when we do, the chaos will become the rhythm.

Over the course of our College’s rich history, we have seen a multitude of traditions come and go. While it is evident why things like a firstyear boxing ring or running around on the roofs were unfitting to the College’s standards, one must also wonder whether the absence of other traditions is really something that needed to happen.

I’m certain that there are many alumni who look back fondly at their times here, and no doubt some events they partook in during their time have since faded away from institutional memory.

Many of these could have been started by a small group of friends who had just decided that a fun thing they did could become an annual event.

Looking at the events that we consistently run year after year, some appear to have been thought of on a whim.

Take Isengard, for example.

There are other schools and even other colleges and faculties here at UofT that partake in a similar event (although some under other names). However – no matter where the idea of taping together a bunch of cans to try to reach a certain height came from – I think it is a safe guess that our version of the eventstemmed from some people sitting in the then Welch Common Room watching Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, and thinking “Hey, I’ve got an idea.”

It’s also reasonable to believe that some college events such as Bubbly or the Athletic were started because some club presidents were sitting around deciding what to do with their ridiculous account

surplus’. Eventually they decided that a party seemed to be something they could all agree on.

That being said, this isn’t the “Past Edition,” and we won’t dwell on what has been done, and/or forgotten. Instead, I want to talk about what can do now.

In the last few years we have seen many long-standing traditions disappear for one reason or another. I am not happy about this either, but I would say that that wallowing in the loss of these events isn’t the most effective use of

The TCOS also comes from a similar mindset. A few people decided that it would be fun to have a club that serves a specific purpose that wasn’t being met at Trin. Now I would argue that TCOS is one of Trinity’s most successful and well attended clubs.

The important thing to think about is that within the structure of Trinity’s governance, it is not overly difficult to start your own club, or even within the structure of existing clubs, running a new event is not out of reach.

Through all of the changes

Traditions and Legacy our time. I personally would prefer to take an interest in what we can make happen with the resources that would have been otherwise allocated.

For example, I have been amazed at the level of positive reception that “Assassins” has gotten (Yes 2T0, I do realize that it was done in your first year – I don’t particularly care). However, after a two-year hiatus it has come back, and has been embraced with open arms.

While admittedly the rules need to be refined and will be for the second round (sign up –shameless plug), it is so refreshing to see people sprinting out of Strachan to avoid their potential assassin, or people actively avoiding certain areas of the college because it is a high risk area. This is the attitude that I think needs to be present at any new events brought forward by our clubs.

that we have seen at Trinity, it is really easy to sit and complain that things were better before, and that the College will never be the same. However, these changes are happening whether you like it or not. The real choice you have is whether or not to make the most of your time here. If you find a few friends who think something is important, and you want to share that with everyone, I encourage you to do so. While preferences change and ideas come and go, you can shape your time here to fit the vision that you have. With many of the traditions we have today it seems they originated with just a few people who got together and decided that they had something they wanted to become their legacy at the college. I know I personally would like to come back here in a number of years and see that something that we started has stood the test of time.

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By: Julien Smit

THE TCM Note from the editors of the Salterrae: Anticipating a reaction to this article, the editors would like to reiterate that the Salterrae is committed to publishing Trinity student views across the spectrum so that all opinions, excluding hate speech, may be heard. Of any viewpoint, it is the duty of the reader to think critically about the content they interact with.

On Monday, January 13th, a motion was passed at the TCM which mandates that future Heads of College no longer need to live on residence. After drawing a large group of commuters with “NRAC dinner,” the NRAC Heads were able to push the motion through with 59% percent in favour. The majority of those supporting the motion were first and second years, opposed predominantly by third and fourth years, both those who live on residence and those who commute. I candidly admit that I am an upper year, and the mood among us after this TCM was one of weariness. Through no fault of their own, the current lower years are unaware of the extent of the changes the college has undergone in the last few years. For many upper years, however, almost our entire university experience has entailed a

struggle for the continuation of our college as it was. It is a fight that we are assuredly losing. The Trinity community of a few years ago is, quite truthfully, almost gone. I am not trying to be sensationalist. The intense, widespread involvement, the myriad events, the closeness of hundreds of members of the community, the devoted pride, has dissipated. Does the College have problems? Certainly, but in attempting to fix them we may misplaced the spirit of Trinity. How, from now on, will only one head be able to support the hundreds of students in their building? How will the bonds formed as part of a first-year community find inception and grow if there is no floor community to speak of? Will we now travel down to Mississauga for a late-night crisis? As long as everything is wrapped up before the subway closes, it should be alright. The heads are pillars of the Trinity community: they guide students into life here just as they create spaces for that life to thrive.

What this motion furthers is the stripping away of Trinity’s uniqueness, its cohesion, its sense of community and ability to offer a space for that community.

Now, perhaps Trinity will arise reformed and be a “better” place. What is likely to occur, however, is that the old Trinity will be forgotten – this process has already been begun. Even more regretful, was

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that up until this point it was the new administration, operating on motives that include a fear of liability and a desire to “modernize” the college, who were the agents of devaluation of Trinity. At this TCM, the upper years witnessed the dismantling continue, but now it was undertaken by the students themselves, those meant to inherit the future of the college, their own future.

If you supported this motion, you might consider: why did you want to come to Trinity? Or, if you didn’t choose Trinity, why do you want to be a part of this college? For me, as I know it is for many, it was because Trinity is unique. We are the only remnant of Oxbridge left in Canada, one of the few such remembrances in the world. Yes, we have an elitist trend; yes, many of events and traditions are strange; yes, our community is both antagonistic and loving within itself. It is evident that that the heart of Trinity is our community, not just Trinity proper, St. Hilda’s, or the Buttery. But where does this heart predominantly reside? What is our nucleus? It is, naturally, in the buildings that belong to us all. Here our events, many of our social gatherings and meals, take place. If you’re a commuter, perhaps you don’t feel this way – perhaps you don’t feel Trinity and its buildings to be your home.

This is always something to be regreted,

Of January 13th and not something anyone wants. For those who love this place, the more involvement there is the better, for then the special, eclectic nature of the college is perpetuated.

Underrepresentation of non-res students is a real issue. However, as stated several times at the TCM, there are better ways to fix this problem than by hacking away at the Trinity community entire. We could have made another two heads of non-residence positions available – this was suggested many times. On the question of financial accessibility regarding a headship role, the pretext upon which the motion was proposed, there is currently around 10,000$ available in bursaries for heads, and it would not be difficult to pass an SCCC or St. Hilda’s Board motion to entirely cover funding for students facing financial barriers. This was all stated at the TCM. However, according to the NRAC heads, nothing could be considered but this motion; supposedly there were too many “systemic” problems inherent with having heads live on residence.

There are two ways to fix inequality. The first is to empower the marginalized group to the level of the privileged, the second is to cut the privileged down so that everyone is lower. When residence students stood up at the TCM and recounted their

experiences with residence heads, how their presence late at night helped resolve a mental health crises, how being a part of a community was the most special and intimate part of their university experience, these stories were not, as one commuter asserted, an attempt to demonstrate why resident students deserve more than nonres students. We are all entitled to the Trinity community, and these experiences are real.

This motion was supposedly about financial inequality, but it was really that some commuters did not feel a part of the community. This is a serious issue. What has been the chosen solution though? What has been the plan proposed by the NRAC Heads? It was to weaken and decentralize the entire community, to take away support and events and the social ability of Trinity from both residence and nonresident students alike.

The TCM offers a lot of power – too much power perhaps. What did uniformed students do in 2017 that fundamentally deprived students of community and voice?

Pass an uninformed motion at the TCM. And here we see it happening again. The administration says thanks, and laughs.

For those of us who love this community and don’t view it as a dump, this motion is

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another step in the dismantling of Trinity.

Trinity can be made better, more inclusive, more equal, but what is the point if there is barely any Trinity left? I reiterate that I am not being overly dramatic. I’ve seen firsthand immense change within a few years; the vitality of Trinity even in 2016 seems like a dream. Trinity’s events and traditions rely entirely on its students. What motivates students to organize balls, events, and clubs? A love of this place and its people. This love will continue to be more absent, more abstract, placed further outside the college, if current trends continue, though no doubt some passionate students will make do for a while. If our great goal is blandness, tepidness, a supreme caution and lack of vitality in college life, then congratulate yourself on this motion. I hope, at least, that we are aware that this motion does not just harm resident students, but the community itself – Trinity itself.

Valentine’s Horoscopes: The Signs in Love Season’s greetings Salts,

Since I have been living in a tropical country this semester (sorry for the flex) I have realized that the only reason Valentine’s Day exists (besides capitalism) is to distract from the painful never-ending winter months. Which means: Valentine’s Day is absolutely useless if you’re enjoying your life! But let’s face it, fighting seasonal depression will have us looking forward to literally anything. Of course, I am not judging and will support all of you Salts who wish to enjoy the holiday. Let me know if you need someone to dress up as Cupid for whatever reason.

Thus, in accordance with this lovey dovey time of year, I have compiled some information on what each of the zodiac signs are like in love. Do whatever you want this information: analyze why your ex broke up with you, analyze why you would break up with yourself too if you could, analyze what your Tinder date really wants from you despite their bio, and so on.

And until next time, Salts, stay warm :) xoxo Archana xoxo

Aries (March 21st - April 19th):

To put it bluntly (because they love brutal honesty), an Aries will leave you. Aries love themselves so much that they don’t need anyone else, especially since no one can give them as much attention as they give themselves. But don’t smother an Aries, they are constantly working towards some goal and are easily bored. So, just admire from afar and jump in when they’re horny and hit you up for a booty call.

Taurus (April 20th - May 20th):

A Taurus is the best person to take on a date.

They will pick the best place to eat, love getting dressed up, and will have a fire sex playlist for later. However, they are definitely one of the bougiest signs so make sure you bring them a gift (or multiple) that is a lot nicer than a teddy bear from Shoppers.

Leo (July 23rd - Aug 22nd):

Gemini (May 21st - June 20th):

Geminis invented commitment issues. They like variety, change, and tasting all the flavours.

You could say they’re pretty ~~flexible~~. So, when you are on Bumble looking for a threesome and thinking to yourself how stupid it is that zodiac signs are tagged in everyone’s bios, keep an eye out for some Geminis.

Do not try to change a Leo or generally point out something wrong with them, because they will leave you for dead. But on the other hand, if you find yourself in trouble with a Leo just switch into complimenting mode. Flattery will get you everywhere. Most importantly: be better, because Leos fancy themselves as the bestest ever so they need a partner of equal greatness.

Cancer (June 21st - July 22nd):

Virgo (Aug 23rd - Sept 22nd):

Virgos would much rather be single than be with someone who is not The One™. They’re looking for someone perfectly smart and equally clean.

Dating a Virgo, though, is like dating a robot since they seem to have no emotions and are creepily, eerily, perfect.

Cancers are crazy, which I say as an Aries, because Cancers feel at home in relationships (can’t relate).

They love to cook, to hold you, and to cry about how much they love you. It’s fucking nuts but I will allow such soft behaviour for VDay I guess.

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Libra (Sept 23rd - Oct 22nd):

Scorpio (Oct 23rd - Nov 21st):

In contrast to Virgos, Libras absolutely must be in a relationship. They love relationships so much that they might be dating you and all of your friends and all of your friends’ friends at the same time. But they still like spending time with you, I promise! They just don’t know it until they’ve talked to everyone else too.

A Scorpio never forgets the dumb shit you said on your fourth date, and they will be mad about it forever. Good sex is also really important for these water signs so #CallHerDaddy. They’re all over the place, moody, angry, and whiny, but somehow still lovely.

Sagittarius (Nov 22nd - Dec 21st):

Sagittarians love the chase of it all. They want to call you but don’t want you to answer because they want to call you a hundred more times (psycho or cute?). They have tons of friends, but don’t get jealous, because they like to be the alpha so really their friends are more like peasants to them.

Aquarius (Jan 20th - Feb 18th):

Capricorn (Dec 22nd - Jan 19th): Aquarians are fiercely loyal, so be really certain you want an Aquarius because they will love you forever even when you definitely do not. They’re quite weird and probably have some stupid niche startup idea that they swear will change the world. You have to support that idea, no matter how stupid.

Capricorns are perfectionists in every aspect of their life including relationships. But Capricorns tend to be better partners later in life so I would suggest not pursuing one until you are 60, or rather, only pursuing 60-year-old Capricorns.

Pisces (Feb 19th - March 18th):

Pisces are very emotionally squishy (yes that is the best word I can think of ) and need a lot of hugs. They are great partners and might even settle for someone way beneath their league due to the rose-coloured glasses of a hopeless romantic (this is your chance you ugly sons-of-bitches).

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