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Rebranding Frosh a start, but not enough

Student safety must be prioritized

Ivan Nuñez Gamez, staff

The culture of disrespect and rejection within the U of M student body is still vibrant. There are moments that make me second guess whether the progress we take pride in as an academic and social body is really meaningful.

The other day, I was walking out of the Tier Building with my headphones on. I was dancing and simply enjoying the song that was playing, when a group of three white male students passed in front of me and screamed “YASSS” at the top of their lungs in the most ridiculous manner.

I was not the one acting like a fool. Their sole purpose was to ridicule my dancing through the use of slang that promotes misleading stereotypes about one of the communities I belong to.

I paused for a moment to reflect on what had happened. Though high school made me strong enough to endure constant harassment, I expected college students to have a better understanding of the diversity that lies within our student body and to be more respectful when encountering it.

That same day, I heard about the rebranding of Frosh into Bison Bash. Though I think the new name accomplishes the goal of UMSU vice president community engagement Elishia Ratel by no longer being a gendered term, I’m not sure we are as inclusive as we claim to be.

While this year’s Bison Bash will work to be an event that prioritizes inclusivity and safety, the university-at-large should take those same steps.

As of now, the U of M Sexual Violence Resource Centre has limited drop-in hours — merely two every business day. Furthermore, consent culture is not mandated on-campus, but instead is actively promoted by a handful of student groups like Justice For Women MB — a group that provides consent culture workshops for students.

In addition to the evident lack of action regarding creating a culture of consent among the student body, the U of M also lags behind in building a safe environment for their 2SLGBTQ+ students.

The majority of resources provided to 2SLGBTQ+ students are external, and the one on-campus resource centre — the Rainbow Pride Mosaic — is a student-led community group. Evidently, the willingness to change the narrative is coming from the student body rather than those in positions of power.

Attempting to remove the negative culture surrounding Frosh by rebranding the event and starting a conversation on the importance of cultivating a culture of safety is undeniably a long-overdue first step in the right direction, but more needs to be done.

Whether it be creating a mandatory consent culture UMLearn component or creating a student-led equity, diversity and inclusion commission, action needs to be taken.

As a student that belongs to different minorities I do not feel safe walking alone

staff Dallin Chicoine / / graphic

on campus, let alone being unapologetically myself when not surrounded by those I trust.

Creating a culture that is aware of the societal problems that surround us will take time, but doing so will help students like me find their sense of belonging within the U of M.

comment@themanitoban.com

Chasing unattainable goals sets self up for failure

We need to put ourselves first and societal norms second

Ivan Nuñez Gamez, staff

A couple of days back, I was making my way to campus when one of my favourite songs started playing on my headset, “The Chase” by Tinashe. The song narrates the sentiment of moving past an undesired relationship while making it abundantly clear that chasing something unconquerable, in this case someone, is pointless.

Though the song has a clear romantic theme, I thought about the countless other circumstances in which we are constantly chasing after unachievable goals, particularly as students.

I remember my first year at the University of Manitoba. I was desperately trying to get as involved as possible while having a full load of classes. Though online, I was determined not to allow a pandemic to take my university experience away from me.

Unfortunately, in the midst of both trying to make a name for myself within the U of M student body and trying to achieve my academic goals, I got lost in translation.

I ended up nearly failing two of the core courses for my program at the time, having an identity crisis and abruptly changing my major. I am pretty sure I was going through a depressive period in my life.

In the effort to set myself up for success, I had done exactly the opposite.

Like many students I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, and in all honesty I wasn’t really sure of who I was.

I went from being class president in high school and an active member of the student community to being stuck on my computer for the vast majority of my days. I jumped from one Zoom meeting to another without ever having a meaningful interaction other than with my close family, who were also busy.

We often aim to be comets — leaving shiny paths wherever we go by. We work so hard and put so much of our energy into satisfying the societal definition of success that we forget to please the most import-

staff Dallin Chicoine / / graphic

ant person, ourself.

Essentially we become meteors, entering into the atmosphere and crashing against the ground of a reality that is hard to swallow but needs to be understood. We cannot do everything.

Though I am a fan of community involvement, discovering oneself in a new environment — in this case being on-campus after two years of online learning — is pivotal to success.

Putting your physical, academic and mental health on the line for the sake of making a name is not a wise choice, and one that can indeed destroy rather than build up.

As Tinashe says, “I ain’t gonna chase nobody,” or in this case anything unattainable at all.