March 1st, 2021

March 1, 2021 Vol. CXLI, No. 19 The University of Toronto’s Student Newspaper Since 1880

Struggle Joy Liberation

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The time we are currently living in will be recorded as pivotal for the Black community.

The protests of the past summer catalyzed the global Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement that will most certainly be documented as a notable period in Black history in North America and around the world.

The Black power fist has become an internationally recognizable emblem of Black unity and BLM. It was originally used by the Black Panther Party in the 1960s to challenge police brutality against African Americans. Ever since, the fist has become a repeated symbol of

protest and Black liberation and has created much controversy throughout history.

One of the most iconic and historical moments of controversy was during the 1968 Mexico City Olympic Games, when American gold and bronze medal 200-meter sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists in protests during the national anthem.

The fist embedded into the CN tower and the city skyline represents the strength of the Black community and brings awareness to our unique shared experiences as we navigate through the city of Toronto and across the three campuses.

Sara Maclure designed the cover of this week’s issue in celebration of Black History Month.

CUPE 3902 members vote strongly in favour of strike mandate

Ninety per cent of members vote to give power to declare a strike if “strategically necessary” Joy Chan Varsity Staff

With record voter turnout, the union that represents contract academic workers at U of T, the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE) 3902, recently voted 90 per cent in favour of a strike mandate as part of its bargaining with the university. The strike mandate does not actually declare a strike; rather, it gives the union “the mandate (or right) to declare a strike when strategically necessary.”

CUPE 3902 and U of T have been in negotiations over the next collective agreement since November. The union represents over 8,000 workers, including teaching assistants, course instructors, tutors, markers, exam invigilators, and chief presiding officers, who have been employed by the university during the past 12 months.

A university spokesperson wrote to The Varsity prior to the strike vote that they “recognize the important role of employees in the CUPE 3902 Unit 1 bargaining unit in ensuring that the University of Toronto continues to be the leading academic institution in Canada. The University also respects the Union’s process, including the decision to hold a strike vote, which is not an unusual step in the collective bargaining process.”

Demands from CUPE 3902 “U of T has not yet meaningfully addressed the union’s high priority issues including hiring and pandemic-related working conditions,” wrote Amy Conwell, Chair of CUPE 3902, in a press release following the vote.

Some demands set out by CUPE 3902 at the beginning of its bargaining include clear

CUPE 3902 members last striked in 2018.

STEVEN LEE/THEVARSITY

parameters of job duties, more hours of work provided for remote or hybrid work, and paid equity training on a variety of topics. The union is also asking for increased wages, benefits, and paid sick days.

In an interview with The Varsity, Conwell emphasized the importance of this bargaining process. “Our demands are going to increase the quality and experience of undergraduate education at the university,” she said. “We’re a large group of workers who have the ability to impact undergraduate education in a really huge way.”

Continuation of bargaining Following the strong strike mandate vote, Conwell expressed that the bargaining team “would expect any employer to immediately

start making some movement at the bargaining table.” According to Conwell, the union was “surprised that that didn’t actually happen.” Although the union’s first course of action is still to “amicably” resolve issues, the unit is ready for collective action should U of T not respond adequately to the unit’s demands.

According to Conwell, the university has expressed that the pandemic is “not a reason to bargain longstanding changes to a collective agreement that will hold for years to come.”

Conwell argued, however, that since the pandemic will likely not end soon, “it’s actually really important and necessary to consider this particular circumstance in bargaining.”

CUPE 3902 continues to be in negotiations with the university until the two parties reach a tentative agreement and ratify it.

Ten students elected to U of T Governing Council Fifty-three students vied for eight seats on university’s highest governing body Lauren Alexander Deputy News Editor

The results of U of T’s Governing Council elections were released on February 23, and the winners were officially elected on February 26.

The campaign period ran from February 1–19, with voting available from February 8–19, during which time 53 students vied for just eight seats on the Governing Council. There are 50 seats in total on the Governing Council, eight of which are set aside for students.

Students on the Governing Council have the ability to bring forward and vote on motions during Governing Council meetings. The Governing Council votes on important issues at the university, including the budget and the appointments of university officials, such as the president.

Student seats on the council are divided between full-time undergraduate students, parttime undergraduate students, and graduate students.

The winners of the full-time undergraduate student seats were Evan Kanter from Trinity College, with 530 votes; Vishar Yaghoubian from Woodsworth College, with 390 votes; Andrew Chen from the Faculty of Applied Science & Engineering (FASE), with 469 votes; and Kenneth Williams from the Temerty Faculty of Medicine, with 330 votes.

The winners of the part-time student seats were Susan Froom from Trinity College and Karen Ng from the FASE. There were no votes for these two seats, as there were only two students running.

The winners of the graduate student seats were Mozynah Nofal from the Ontario Insti-

tute for Studies in Education, with 92 votes, and Amin Kamaleddin from the FASE. Kamaleddin’s seat did not require a vote because there was only one candidate who ran for it.

This election cycle also saw a number of teaching staff elected to the Governing Council and elections for other governance councils, including the Academic Board and the campus councils for UTM and UTSC. Members of the Governing Council will vote on U of T’s budget in the coming months as details are finalized. Some have suggested that the relatively small number of student seats on the council is not sufficient to bring student concerns to the table during budget negotiations.

Disclosure: Amin Kamaleddin currently serves on The Varsity’s Board of Directors.

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MARCH 1, 2021

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TCM discusses recommendations of anti-racism task force, raises BOT accountability concerns

Meeting endorses open letter asking admin to rethink Chartwells dining contract Rachel E. Chen Trinity College Correspondent

The Trinity College Meeting (TCM) held its seventh meeting of the year on February 22. Members discussed the recommendations of the Trinity College Task Force on Anti-Black Racism report released a few weeks ago, and attendees raised concerns over the accountability of the Board of Trustees (BOT) in adequately addressing student concerns.

The TCM also endorsed an open letter to Trinity College to rethink its ongoing partnership with Chartwells Canada for dining hall services.

Discussion of Anti-Racism Task Force Report The TCM discussed the recommendations outlined in the final report of the college’s Task Force on AntiBlack Racism and Inclusion, which was released on February 5, eight months after Trinity College Provost Mayo Moran first announced the task force’s

formation.

The report’s overarching recommendations addressed the college’s inclusivity within the student culture, faculty training, and the college’s physical environment and governance structures.

TCM members also discussed the task force’s proposed reforms for student government to transition into a “representative democracy” from its current disposition as a direct democracy, in an effort to prevent governance positions from being held by groups of students who contribute to the college’s exclusive culture.

Head of Non-Resident Affairs Cindy Lui wrote to The Varsity that the TCM heads have asked but not received clarification from the administration as to what this new model would look like. TCM Chair Anjali Gandhi notified attendees that, following the report, the person tasked by the college with independently investigating the college’s student governance has already reached out and spoken to student

The seventh Trinity College Meeting of the year took place on February 22.

HAYDEN MAK/THEVARSITY

leaders.

Attendees discussed the report and the college administration’s ability to follow through on the task force’s recommendations for the students. Concerns were also raised over appropriate accountability for faculty and staff being inclusive to racialized students beyond proposed equity and diversity training programs.

Notably, questions were also raised over the transparency of the college’s BOT. The board has oversight over finances, investments, and property management decisions for the college, and can approve policy decisions over student life and residences at the request of Trinity’s senate.

However, despite making decisions that influence the student experience on campus, the board is not mandated to directly address student concerns; rather, this falls on the provost. Students had concerns about the BOT’s recent decision to increase residence prices despite the task force’s recommendation to make on-campus living more accessible to lower-income students.

“We felt — because the task force recommends changes that will severely impact how a lot of things are done in this college — the board should hear student feedback and student concerns about things that are affecting them,” said Head of Arts Shashwat Aggarwal.

Open letter about Chartwells The open letter addressed to the Office of the Dean of Students and Moran asks that the college choose not to renew its contract with Chartwells upon its expiry in 2023. It also asks that in the time it takes for the contract to end, the minimum meal plan cost requirement for residence students be revised, along with other food service fees.

The company currently provides dining hall services at Trinity’s main dining hall, Strachan Hall, and

social commons, The Buttery. Chartwells also provides its services to St. Michael’s College and UTM. The letter alleges a pattern of unethical practices by both Chartwells and its parent company, British multinational firm Compass Group. The letter points to a Washington Square News article to support allegations that, among other concerns, the company is connected to mass incarceration through its prison contracts and has a record of violating food safety.

“We believe that these actions are deeply incompatible with the essential services that Chartwells staff provide for trainees, faculty, students, and community members including the administration,” said Head of College Ingrid Cui to the TCM. “So we will call on the administration to reconsider their partnership with Chartwells, and if they do not terminate the contract before it’s over, to not hire Chartwells in the future.” The motion was proposed by Mary Ngo, Kiellan Rook, and Cui, and it was seconded by Cali Sherriff.

This motion is not the first time Chartwells has received criticism from students at U of T. In 2014, UTM’s chief administrative officer, Paul Donoghue, said that renewing the university’s contract with the company was not in the best interest of the school, and a campaign led by the University of Toronto Mississauga Students’ Union expressed dissatisfaction with the quality and pricing of food services.

UTM has continued to contract Chartwells for its dining hall services.

Attendees at the TCM raised concerns over the livelihoods of those currently employed by Trinity’s food services and raised questions about appropriate alternatives to Chartwells. An amendment was approved to add alternative options and solutions to the problems raised in the letter. The two motions ultimately passed following discussion.

The Varsity has reached out to Chartwells for comment.

U of T joins coalition to engage with companies on reducing climate-related investment risks

Experts, campus groups question university’s leverage, denounce shareholder activism Marta Anielska Associate News Editor

U of T and several other universities, including McGill University and McMaster University, have formed the University Network for Investor Engagement (UNIE), a coalition aiming to engage with companies and reduce climate-related investment risks. The initiative will be coordinated by the Shareholder Association for Research & Education (SHARE), a not-for-profit organization that offers responsible investment services.

U of T’s participation in the coalition is part of its broader “responsible investing strategy,” which integrates environmental, social, and governance (ESG) factors into investment analysis and decision making. However, experts and campus groups, such as Leap UofT, continue to question the effectiveness of U of T’s shareholder activism and urge the university to divest.

Coalition strategy UNIE’s largest member is the University of Toronto Asset Management Corporation (UTAM), which manages U of T’s pension, endowment, and shortterm working capital portfolios, collectively worth approximately $13 billion.

Ultimately, the coalition’s goal is to reduce the university’s impact on the climate crisis by mitigating the effects of its investments on the environment. Participating universities have formed an advisory council to direct the program.

SHARE will coordinate the initiative, focusing its advocacy efforts on finance, transport, energy, and manufacturing. The company will create an annual engagement plan that will outline the initiative’s approach and focus companies.

While the UTAM will occasionally engage with companies directly, SHARE will facilitate most of the communication and report back to the coalition.

In an email to The Varsity, Daren Smith, President and Chief Investment Officer of UTAM, wrote that advocating with a group of other institutions which have more than $70 billion in assets between them will help them exert more influence on companies to comply with targets.

Smith added that the university is confident that it can achieve several goals. These include getting companies to set targets to meet the the Paris commitments, increasing oversight for emissions reduction, decreasing anti-climate lobbying, and promoting investment in clean energy.

“Serious engagement can take time,” Smith wrote. “But we also expect measurable results and milestones along the way to demonstrate meaningful progress.”

The university will regularly review the initiative to make sure it is meeting its “ambitious objectives.”

UNIE joins other initiatives like Climate Action 100+ that fit into its overall strategy of encouraging companies to engage with the climate crisis.

The efficacy of shareholder activism Although U of T presents its strategy as an effective way to push companies toward a greener future, experts and groups that The Varsity has reached out to were less optimistic about the leverage the university would have.

Douglas MacDonald, a senior lecturer emeritus at the School of the Environment, wrote in an email that the university does not have much say in a company’s decisions, which are primarily made by a company’s chief executive officer and Board of Directors.

U of T students at the Global Climate Strike in Toronto.

DINA DONG/THEVARSITY

He added that institutions like U of T probably have more power to enforce ESG guidelines before investing than they do once they become shareholders. MacDonald noted that while U of T — like most other universities — rejected divestment a few years ago, it seems to have reached a halfway point in its climate activism.

“U of T and the other universities should be congratulated on taking this step, even though their influence is limited,” MacDonald wrote.

Matthew Hoffmann, a professor at the Department of Political Science, elaborated that the university’s investments were in diverse funds, and consequently, the university’s influence on any specific company would be diluted even in the coalition.

Moreover, he wrote that shareholder activism typically focuses on increasing transparency, which is still “not as good as” decarbonization.

According to him, the efforts — while well-in-

tentioned — would not be effective.

Leap UofT, a climate justice student activist group, seconded this sentiment. In an email to The Varsity, the organization wrote that shareholder activism relies on the assumption that companies will change their behaviour when pressured by investors and that this strategy doesn’t work.

The group also questioned whether SHARE would be an effective coordinator, given that Leap UofT found very little data or descriptions of its previous achievements.

“U of T doesn’t have a strategy for reducing climate risk, they have a greenwashing strategy to look good for donors and rankings,” Leap UofT wrote. “Even [as part of UNIE] they don’t have leverage in ‘engaging’ with companies, especially when compared to the social leverage they would have through divestment.”

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“Black Perspectives”: ASSU hosts Black History Month speaker series Featuring Bernice Carnegie, Nadège Compaoré, Ahmed Hussen

wonder what happened, and the people who make things happen. She worked with her father on initiatives to better the world and also wrote part two of her father’s book, which is about “lessons passed on from father to daughter.”

Overall, Carnegie emphasized that everyone must follow their passion, stand up for themselves, and “find all the reasons why [they] can be proud of [their] family.”

From left to right: Ahmed Hussen, Nadège Compaoré, and Bernice Carnegie.

COURTESY OF THE ARTS AND SCIENCE UNION

Lauren Alexander, Jessica Han, Anjali Rao Varsity Staff

In honour of Black History Month, the Arts and Science Student Union (ASSU) hosted a series of three presentations from three “profound Black individuals in Canadian society.”

The three talks were given by Bernice Carnegie, Nadège Compaoré, and Ahmed Hussen between February 24 and 26, and each had a different focus on the spheres of “community,” “academia,” and “politics.”

Bernice Carnegie The first presentation took place on February 24 and was from Bernice Carnegie, who is the cofounder of the Herbert H. Carnegie Future Aces Foundation and formerly its executive director.

Carnegie spoke about her family’s historical journey throughout the years.

The presentation had the theme of “I dare you,”

where, at the end of each critical point or message, Carnegie would dare the audience to welcome and accept a story that some may be familiar with and others would not be as familiar with. In turn, she hoped that the audience would “embrace life’s challenges so that [they could] all create an environment that inspires compassion, caring, and hope.”

Specifically, Carnegie illustrated and detailed the story of her father, Herb Carnegie, as a “talented” hockey player who got “robbed of his chance of playing with the best” due to his race.

However, Carnegie said that her father “dared himself to be something different” by writing an autobiographical book called A Fly in a Pail of Milk and establishing a hockey school in Canada called Future Aces. The school mentors young men in both hockey and “the skill of being good people.”

Nearing the end of the presentation, Carnegie stressed that there are three types of people: the people who watch things happen, the people who

Nadège Compaoré In conversation with ASSU executive Martha Taylor, Nadège Compaoré, an incoming assistant professor of international relations at UTM and provost’s postdoctoral fellow, shared her story as an African woman at the highest levels of Canadian political science and international relations scholarship. Her talk attempted to answer the question: What does a decolonized classroom look like?

Compaoré shared some of her earliest experiences as a racialized student, mentioning her childhood in both Burkina Faso and Canada as the catalyst for her current field of study. She recalled the colonial remnants that affected her as she grew up, including the devaluation of the currency due to the fact that it was pegged to the Franc, which was controlled outside of Africa.

Later on, as a Canadian high school student and immigrant, Compaoré recounted being verbally assaulted on the basis of her race, being told to “go back to [her] country.” These experiences led to her current academic focus in Black women internationalism. She said, “I’ve always been very interested in post-colonial international relations dynamics and, especially, how African actors come into play, and not just state actors, but all sorts of actors.”

Looking to the future of both the U of T and academia as a whole, Compaoré spoke to creating an inclusive curriculum and an environment that is nurturing to Black students.

From Compaoré’s own experiences, she mentioned the pressures of impostor syndrome and

the need to not just succeed but to be excellent as a Black person. For future students, she said, “It’s almost like we’re looking for superheroes to come and be in academia. And, I think, why can’t we just be just great scholars who meet all the criteria of being a scholar.”

“We can’t all be superheroes, and we shouldn’t all need to be to prove how much we belong.”

Ahmed Hussen During the third talk on February 26, which was moderated by ASSU President Ikran Jama, the Honourable Ahmed Hussen, Minister of Families, Children and Social Development, described how he has been able to create change as a Black minister.

Hussen, the first cabinet minister originally from the continent of Africa, immigrated to Canada as a refugee, and has worked to help other refugees ever since. He started his political career as a co-founder of the Regent Park Community Council, a community group started in an area with very little social support programs.

The council created social programs in the area and was instrumental in acquiring the $500-million investment for the revitalization project that took place in the area. Hussen emphasized the importance of representation in government.

Changes came “directly from the feedback we gave to the government.”

He noted some of the impacts of Black members of parliament, including a change at Statistics Canada, which now collects data on race. Significant criminal justice reforms were also announced this week, which get rid of a number of mandatory minimum sentencing laws, and the reforms also allow non-violent offenders to serve their sentences from home, among other new changes.

For young Black Canadians looking to enter politics, he gave a few suggestions, including mentorship, leadership programs, and paid government internships. Specifically, he suggested the Federal Student Leadership Program, which allows youth to work and learn about the government.

Recent U of T library search update criticized for lacking usability, alumni access

University to hold training sessions, continue soliciting feedback on new system Khatchig Anteblian Associate News Editor

After the recent launch of U of T’s new ‘LibrarySearch’ tool on February 16, people have been expressing their frustrations and criticizing the system online, taking to Reddit and Twitter to criticize the difficulty of using the new search tool and the quality of the search results.

The new system, introduced in January, was intended to integrate print and electronic resources into the same search platform.

In an email to The Varsity, a university spokesperson wrote that significant updates in technology typically have “growing pains.” There will be another round of tests and information technology (IT) consultations, as well as training sessions on how to use the new system.

Reactions to the new search tool The biggest point of criticism was usability and a new interface that users found confusing.

Christian Siroyt, a U of T alum and applicant for the university’s art history PhD program, said in an interview with The Varsity that the update “made the searching process considerably slower for me. It wasn’t intuitive at all.”

Others were frustrated that the change came at a time when students are likely studying and might be using the library search system more.

In an email to The Varsity, Anvesh Jain, a fourth-year international relations student, explained that he felt there was not enough warning that the system was changing. As a student in the humanities and social sciences, Jain relies on the search system for his schoolwork. He felt that given the stress of school and the pandemic, this could have been communicated better.

However, Jain added that, after working with the new system for a few days, he sees it as an improvement. Specifically, he mentioned the citation function, which creates citations of different styles based on the items.

“I think the updated system is going to be much better for students in the long-term, and is well-suited to our new online all-the-time reality,” he wrote.

According to University Chief Librarian Larry Alford, initial user testing of the system had provided positive feedback.

A U of T spokesperson wrote, “While there have been some growing pains, they have been typical of a significant technological upgrade such as this, which involved the migration of millions of library catalogue records.”

The spokesperson also noted that IT specialists are working to resolve technical issues as they come up, and another round of user experience tests will take place in the spring to help in addressing feedback and suggestions.

The library is also holding three training sessions from March 1–5 to help users adjust to the new tool.

Lack of alumni access Beyond the search system, Siroyt feels that the university has not done a good enough job of communicating information about the library system to alumni during the pandemic.

Siroyt said that he has been struggling with the university’s library system for a while as an alumni reader. His alumni library membership fee does not include remote access to materials in the HathiTrust digital library catalogue, which makes accessing books difficult during the pandemic.

Currently, the library is not offering any inperson alumni services, including access to library stacks or facilities. While the latest update was intended to be more accessible for physical and digital items, the fact that an item is digital makes it inaccessible to Siroyt and all other alumni. “So I can only access obscure hardcopy books that are available for curbside pickup and not digitized,” he said.

Siroyt said that a library help desk employee told him alumni didn’t have access to curbside pickup services. However, in a series of email exchanges with the library’s user services, Siroyt was told that the reason he couldn’t access curbside pickup was because of a bug in the code that

controlled curbside pickup orders, which prevented him from placing an order.

One of the emails reads, “We just have a typo error in our curbside script which should be fixed by tomorrow, to resume requests by the alumni research reader category. We discovered this ‘typo’ today.”

“For a number of weeks, and perhaps months, I was blocked out from accessing the curbside pickup, so I had no library privileges at all, yet I was paying the fee,” Siroyt said.

“I do rely on the library system a great deal, and when I don’t have access, it [has] a huge impact.”

— With files from Lauren Alexander

U of T’s libraries released their new search tool on February 16.

RYAN CHOW/THEVARSITY

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MARCH 1, 2021

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In the Spotlight: Roberta Timothy

U of T public health professor discusses pandemic, health care in Black community Hannah Carty News Editor

Roberta Timothy is an assistant professor at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health, but she considers herself a community member first.

Timothy studies intersectionality and health, and works on creating practices that do not cause additional harm to communities that have historically been mistreated by the health care system.

The Varsity talked to Timothy about her experiences, research, and current projects, including Black Health Matters, where she serves as principal investigator.

Being an activist in academia Although Timothy works in academia, she does not consider herself an academic. Timothy spoke about the relationship between activism and academia, expressing how coming from an activist community has influenced her work.

“The whole dichotomy between academia and community is a problem,” she said. “I want to talk about how we can do work and continue to do work in the community as community members.”

Citing her upbringing taking part in feminist and pan-African movements, she expressed, “For me, education was also the education that I received in my community.” Conversely, being an activist is not something she learned just in universities.

Timothy also works in private practice and trains therapists in ‘anti-oppression psychotherapy,’ a model that looks to decolonize psychotherapy and trauma.

Timothy’s work has been focused around resistance education and Black resistance move-

ments. She explained that resistance methodologies look to answer questions such as, “How do people fight back and still heal, or be well, or act within systems that have excluded them or harmed them?”

Although there has been increasing interest in studying resistance in recent years, when Timothy began her work in academia, “folks did not necessarily want to hear about anti-Black racism and white supremacy.”

Now, as a professor, Timothy believes that teaching can be an important part of decolonizing work. She added that while teaching during the pandemic, “I am understanding that, for myself, like students, we are dealing with a challenging time.”

Health violence during COVID-19 In April 2020, Timothy co-organized the first Canada-wide forum on the impacts of COVID-19 on African and Black communities in Canada. As the disproportionate effects of COVID-19 on the Black community became apparent, the forum discussed implications of the pandemic on these communities due to the disproportionate health violence they face.

Timothy defines health violence as a health care system with “policies, practices, and actions that actually limit the health or well-being of particular groups of people based on historical and current types of discrimination or abuse.”

Timothy noted that there are other factors that may contribute to health violence outside of the health care system itself, such as income inequality.

The existing inequalities make Timothy skeptical of the idea of returning to ‘normal’ after COVID-19, noting that ‘normal’ for the Black com-

munity has always involved disproportionate health violence.

“I want to change the system.

I want our communities to have access to health care that treats them well [and] doesn’t harm them,” Timothy said.

“Health violence is supported by health care systems that actually do not consider the health of Black, Indigenous, [and] purposefully marginalized people important,” she added.

Black Health Matters Currently, Timothy is the principal investigator on the Black Health Matters: National and Transnational COVID-19 Impact, Resistance and Intervention Strategies Project, which studies the impacts of COVID-19 on African and Black individuals.

In addition to Timothy, the project has a postdoctoral fellow, a consultant, research assistants, and an advisory committee of 25 members from different disciplines and backgrounds nationwide. Timothy is also in the process of creating a global advisory committee.

The project came about as Timothy decided during COVID-19, “We need our own data, and it needs to be analyzed by us, for us.”

Timothy described the project as looking at how COVID-19 is impacting people, but also “how people are resisting, and also looking at

Roberta Timothy is an assistant professor at U of T.

COURTESY OF ROBERTA TIMOTHY

creative interventions — how are people surviving?”

To gather people’s experiences, the project is currently soliciting responses through a Canadian survey, with an international survey to follow. The approximately 45-minute survey asks questions on a variety of different topics relating to people’s experiences with COVID-19, from employment and housing security, to coping strategies and vaccination.

On her own philosophy of research, Timothy said, “I am a researcher who believes that we need to be responsible for the type of research that we do. And the research has to empower communities not hinder them, particularly within health.”

“For me, it’s a very political thing. Research is political; mental health and healing is political.”

Architecture unions announce boycott of faculty’s Diversity and Equity Committee Students make four demands with concerns about structure, transparency

Marta Anielska Associate News Editor

At a Faculty Council meeting on February 24, three student unions from the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design announced that they will be suspending their participation in the faculty’s Diversity and Equity Committee until their demands for restructuring and transparency are met. The Diversity and Equity Committee is tasked with making equity recommendations to the Faculty Council.

The three groups — the Architecture and

Visual Studies Students’ Union (AVSSU), the Graduate Architecture, Landscape, and Design Student Union (GALDSU), and the Forestry Graduate Students’ Association (FGSA) — wrote an open statement expressing their concerns and outlining four key changes that must be implemented before the unions end their boycott.

In the letter, they expressed that the committee is “inefficient and ineffective in [their] collective goal to implement structural changes to make [the faculty] a diverse and equitable environment.”

Diversity and inclusion demand

The John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design building on Spadina Crescent.

SHANNA HUNTER/THEVARSITY

Amid the Black Lives Matter protests in June, the faculty reaffirmed its commitment to “seeking a just society without discrimination,” noting that mechanisms like the committee were already in place to address such concerns.

Later that month, the same three unions published an open letter to the faculty demanding that it take immediate action to address systemic racism within the faculty. The unions’ recommendations included decolonizing the faculty’s curriculum, releasing an equity strategy plan, and improving resources for racialized students.

However, despite the faculty’s mention of the committee as a way to address systemic problems, the unions’ most recent statement still calls into question the faculty’s willingness to engage with students. The letter claims that the committee has failed to fulfill its mandate of advising the faculty’s governing body on addressing equity goals.

The unions added that the current structure “discourages meaningful participation” because all decisions are made by the chair, thereby “reducing the meetings to a formality.” To rectify this, the letter demands that all decisions be made collectively, and any actions and consultations taken on the behalf of the committee must include committee members.

The unions are also calling for more transparency, since meeting minutes have failed to record dissent and maintained the anonymity of commenters.

Other demands include the removal of the chair and the implementation of an elected co-chair system that would include faculty and students. Moreover, the unions noted that the liaison position at the committee, intend-

ed to be an “impartial mediator,” has instead assumed the position of advisor and secretary.

“Collectively, we share the same goal of the betterment of our community,” the unions expressed. “We look forward to continuing to work with you once our concerns have been addressed.”

Response from faculty According to Professor Robert Wright, Interim Dean of the faculty, he met with students two days after the Faculty Council meeting to determine how the faculty could address their concerns, restructure, and move forward.

“My first priority… is to ensure that [the faculty has] an inclusive learning environment that is free from harassment and discrimination,” Wright wrote in an email to The Varsity.

“I take the joint statement issued by our student unions incredibly seriously.”

He added that dismantling systemic racism will require a “continuous and sustained effort” and that the faculty is actively recruiting a director of equity, diversity, and inclusion.

The director will work with community members to implement initiatives that will advance equity, diversity, and inclusion at the faculty.

Moreover, independent consultants will begin leading focus groups with students, staff, and faculty on anti-Black racism next week to “capture in-depth perspectives.”

“I look forward to continuing this collective work with students, staff, faculty, and alumni as we build a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive culture at the Daniels Faculty,” Wright concluded.

The AVSSU, GALDSU, and FGSA declined The Varsity’s request for further comment.

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THE VARSITY

NEWS

SCSU Candidate Profiles

President Marta Anielska and Joshua Chong Varsity Staff

Sarah Abdillahi (MOTIVATE UTSC) Sarah Abdillahi, a fifth-year population health studies major with a double minor in psychology and city studies, is running for re-election as the president of the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) on the MOTIVATE UTSC slate. If re-elected, Abdillahi hopes to build on the work she has done this year, such as expanding the COVID-19 bursary that was created last year.

In an interview with The Varsity, she noted that since she has experience being SCSU president during the pandemic, she has the skills necessary to go through another year of working online. Abdillahi added that she is passionate about providing students with a platform to voice their needs and consulting with a variety of community stakeholders.

“If you don’t have a student sitting at the table telling you how students actually feel or how students actually want things done, then

Sarah Abdillah.

COURTESY OF SARAH ABDILLAHI

you cannot say that this is what’s best for students,” Abdillahi said.

In a new term, Abdillahi would focus on providing students with more financial and mental health support. This would include providing first-year students with a support centre and improving mental health services.

Eesha Chaudhry (Connect UTSC) Eesha Chaudhry, a fourth-year student in population health studies and international development studies, is also running for SCSU president. She currently serves as the SCSU’s vice-president external. Chaudhry also serves as the president of HOSA UTSC, an organization for aspiring health care professionals, and is a member of the Toronto Youth Cabinet.

Chaudhry said that as the vice-president external for the SCSU this past year, she has prioritized issues such as mental health, transit, housing, and government relations.

Chaudhry is running for president because she wants to give back to the community, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. “I got to see firsthand the many adversities and challenges and struggles that not only our membership, but folks all over Scarborough, all over Canada, have been experiencing from the pandemic,” she said.

As president, Chaudhry would increase financial aid for students by expanding SCSU bursaries, and establish an international student bursary and student committee. Her plan for environmental conservation includes introducing TerraCycle boxes on campus and collaborating with students and environmental groups on and off campus to implement other sustainable solutions.

She would also lobby administrators and

news@thevarsity.ca

Eesha Chaudhry.

COURTESY OF EESHA CHAUDHRY

UTSC Health and Wellness to hire more mental health professionals. She emphasized that her mental health plan will “ensure that students are being involved in every step of the way.”

The voting period for the SCSU elections will be held from March 2–4.

Vice-President Academics & University Affairs Lauren Alexander and Joshua Chong Varsity Staff

Waad Abdel Kader (Connect UTSC) Waad Abdel Kader is a fourth-year student double majoring in psychology and health studies. She is running for vice-president academics & university affairs in the upcoming Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) election under the Connect UTSC slate.

Abdel Kader is currently the health policy coordinator of the Health and Society Students’ Association.

Previously, she served as a first-year representative for the Students of Sociology.

She is running because she wants to help support students working toward academic success, and she wants to ensure that there are “adequate accommodations” for students within their learning environments.

“I believe academic success can’t be looked at from one direction,” she said in an interview with The Varsity. Abdel Kader’s platform includes working with the registrar’s office to increase the number of credit/ no credit course options from the current two credit maximum, at least until the end of the pandemic.

She would also work with different academic and administrative departments to “better understand

Waad Abdel Kader.

COURTESY OF WAAD ABDEL KADER

mental health barriers… and support the intersectional needs of every student.”

Abdel Kader hopes to lobby the university and all levels of the government to reduce tuition fees. She would also work with the UTSC Library to provide more physical textbooks and ebooks. “Everyone should be able to access textbooks that they need,” Abel Kader said.

Rimsha Rahman (MOTIVATE UTSC) Rimsha Rahman is a fourth-year student majoring in city studies with minors in urban public policy and critical migration. She is running as part of the MOTIVATE UTSC slate.

Rahman is the current vice-president academics for the Political Science Student Association and the SCSU Free Book Network coordinator. Previously, she served on the SCSU Board of Directors.

If elected, she plans to create more financial support for students and expand some of the current systems to make them more sustainable. Specifically, she intends to put in place a post-pandemic academic support plan, focusing on extending credit/no credit supports, creating an academic relief form, and introducing funding supports for students who want to review or defer exams.

In order to make academic success more financially accessible, she plans to expand the SCSU Free Book Network — a program she currently coordinates — to include a mentorship program and more student supports. In an interview with The Varsity, she described

Rimsha Rahman.

COURTESY OF RIMSHA RAHMAN

this plan as “very doable.”

“I’ve always been passionate about access to education because it’s such an important and powerful tool,” said Rahman. She’s committed to addressing the disproportionate barriers she sees in her community for racialized people, and to making education more accessible and affordable.

Vice-President Campus Life

Michael Clement.

COURTESY OF MICHAEL CLEMENT

Alexa DiFrancesco and Marta Anielska Varsity Staff

Michael Clement (Connect UTSC) Michael Clement, a fourth-year student studying chemistry and philosophy, is running for vice-president campus life as part of the Connect UTSC slate.

He has served as director of physical & environmental sciences on the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union’s (SCSU) Board of Directors for the past two years, and he is currently the president of the Environmental & Physical Sciences Students’ Association. He has also been involved in orientation as the master of ceremonies.

Clement is running because he wants to im-

prove campus life by helping student groups reconnect with the union and help students become involved in groups that support their interests.

He describes campus as a place with lots of things to do if students know where to look, adding that he wants to help people find what is right for them, both socially and academically. One of his ideas is to hold virtual escape rooms to help students destress.

Clement noted that a lot of students don’t trust the union, so his message for voters is to take the time to look through each of the candidates’ backgrounds and vote. His goal is to bring back that trust to the union and bring back engagement with clubs.

TJ Ho (MOTIVATE UTSC) TJ Ho is a third-year student majoring in psychology and creative writing. Ho is running for re-election as vice-president campus life of the SCSU under the MOTIVATE UTSC slate.

Ho feels that he has accomplished a lot serving in the SCSU this year, including UTSC’s first-ever online orientation event. He noted that he wasn’t prepared for campus events to be held

online due to COVID-19. If re-elected, Ho said, “I [would] have so much more strategy and so much more to contribute to the student body.”

His top priority if re-elected would be to continue holding online events, such as Zoom karaoke sessions and YouTube social deduction games.

TJ Ho. He would also work COURTESY OF TJ HO to improve the SCSU website by adding a calendar to which students could subscribe for alerts to all student-life events happening. “There will be… more opportunities for them to actually engage with real events or through person-to-person connection,” he said.

Ho would also prioritize partnered online exercise programs for students to “introduce a virtual workout buddy to tackle mental and physical wellness during the unprecedented, challenging times that [he thinks] students are facing right now.”

Oluwapelumi Sobowale (Independent) Oluwapelumi Sobowale is a fourth-year student studying international development studies and political science. He is running for vice-president

Oluwapelumi Sobowale.

COURTESY OF OLUWAPELUMI SOBOWALE

campus life as an independent candidate.

One of Sobowale’s main ideas is to hold an orientation, not just for first-year students, but for everyone in the community. The purpose of an event like this would be to show the diversity of Scarborough to first-year students who have never experienced the city.

He also wants to create a sense of community through virtual events and “create programs that allow people and students around campus and all over the world… to meet each other virtually.”

Even though he is running as an independent candidate, Sobowale asks, “Do not give up on me without actually looking at what I have to offer because I have a lot.”

vrsty.ca/news

Vice-President Equity

Abarna Kamalakumaran.

COURTESY OF ABARNA KAMALAKUMARAN

Alexa DiFrancesco and Jessica Han Varsity Staff

Abarna Kamalakumaran (Connect UTSC) Abarna Kamalakumaran is a fourth-year student majoring in political science and minoring in public law and international development studies. She is running for the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union’s (SCSU) vice-president equity position as part of the Connect UTSC slate.

In past years, Kamalakumaran has served as the external coordinator at the UTSC Women’s and Trans Centre, and she is currently the coordinator for the UTSC’s Racialized Students’ Collective, focusing on anti-Black and anti-Asian racism. Kamalakumaran has also co-founded a non-profit organization called Manidhi, which aims to vocalize the experiences of Thamil women and non-binary individuals.

As a refugee from Tamil Eelam, Sri Lanka, and someone who has endured discrimination and op-

SCSU Candidate Profiles pression, Kamalakumaran wants to promote accessibility, build a safer environment, and give back to the UTSC community.

“As the next [vice-president] equity, I hope to help other students and assist them with their needs as a visible ally,” Kamalakumaran said in an interview with The Varsity. Specifically, she plans to collaborate with the UTSC peer support program to support students’ mental health and provide “any necessary resources.”

Should Kamalakumaran be elected, she would implement “closed captioning for all recorded lectures to make online learning more accessible.” Kamalakumaran would also lobby the university to hire more racialized full-time staff and anti-oppression trained and informed professionals.

Lastly, she would introduce a “leadership certificate program to educate folks on equity-related topics.”

Isaiah Murray (MOTIVATE UTSC) Isaiah Murray is a fourth-year student double majoring in statistics and psychology. He is running for the SCSU’s vice-president equity position under the MOTIVATE UTSC slate.

Although Murray moved to Canada with the goal of being himself, he says he initially didn’t feel supported. If elected into the SCSU, Murray says he doesn’t want any students to feel the way he did: “I’m

Vice-President External

Farah Ahmad.

COURTESY OF FARAH AHMAD

“safe and affordable” housing options for students.

Ahmad would also prioritize building relationships with local politicians “not only for the year that [she] would be serving as elected but also future years.”

“There’s also the possibility of [a federal] elec-

Vice-President Operations Khatchig Anteblian Associate News Editor

Bruce Chan (Connect UTSC) Bruce Chan is a fourth-year student studying human biology, psychology, and statistics. He is running for re-election as Scarborough Campus Students’ Union’s (SCSU) vice-president operations.

If re-elected, one of his key priorities would be supporting the SCSU Food Centre, a volunteer-run project providing free access to food to those who need it during the COVID-19 pandemic. Chan wants to maintain the food centre even after the pandemic so that it can combat food insecurity and so that more students can benefit from it.

Additionally, as an international student, he wants to see more international students participate in and be aware of events and services on campus. “Even though there are already a lot of people signing up [to the SCSU Food Centre], only a small number are international students,” Chan said in an interview with The Varsity.

Another key point he wants to focus on is the

Anaïs Ouedraogo (Independent) Anaïs Ouedraogo is a first-year student in life sciences and economics, and is running to be vice-president equity of the SCSU as an independent. She is currently an administrator for the UTSC Class of 2024 Facebook group and vice-president of UTSC’s

7

Anaïs Ouedraogo.

COURTESY OF ANAÏS OUEDRAOGO

Debate Club.

Ouedraogo’s motivation for running came after she “witnessed, firsthand, some of the effects of the pandemic, especially on minority students, which includes international students.” As an international student, Ouedraogo said, “We haven’t really received the support that we would normally receive if in person on campus.”

If elected, Ouedraogo’s top priorities would be to share more resources on the history of Black peoples in Canada, educate faculty about microaggressions, and amplify minoritized students’ voices on campus.

Ouedraogo also feels it is especially important for her campaign to focus on mental health resources for students, including the hiring of racialized nurses and counsellors: “Sometimes, it is hard to speak to people who do not really understand what you’re going through [and] the experiences you’ve been through in order to receive the support you need.”

tion this year. And if an election does happen, like all other SCSU terms, I would want the SCSU to be at the forefront of the election, and be able to host town halls… and encourage students to vote,” Ahmad added.

Alexa DiFrancesco and Marta Anielska Varsity Staff

Farah Ahmad (Connect UTSC) Farah Ahmad is a fourth-year student majoring in public policy co-op with a double minor in economics and public law. She is running to be vice-president external of the Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) under the Connect UTSC slate. She is currently the president of the Political Science Students’ Association and an editor for Margins Magazine, the Women’s and Trans Centre’s online publication.

Ahmad feels that, as a senior student who’s been part of various groups on campus, she has found “a lot of people reaching out” to her for support in learning about and accessing their resources. “I found that I was in a unique place where I can use my connections and my experiences to really help students,” she said.

Her top priorities, if elected, would be to provide more mental health resources for students, improve the existing resources, strengthen the SCSU’s current Education For All Campaign, push for “safe and reliable” transit to campus, and lobby for more

really running so that I can advocate for all those students who are in that same position of feeling marginalized in the space where they are supposed to feel accepted, so I just want to create as many safe spaces as [I] can.”

One of his top priorities if elected would be to create a bursary bank where students could access the bursaries and scholarships available Isaiah Murray. to them based on their COURTESY OF ISAIAH MURRAY identities.

Murray thinks it is especially important to reform UTSC’s curriculum so that “students see themselves reflected [not only] in the stock but also in the content.” Murray added that “there’s so much great work done by members of the LGBTQ+ community [and] by members of different races that can contribute” to materials studied in class.

He also emphasized the importance of ensuring student clubs have access to the vice-president equity as a resource: “I would introduce myself to as many different old identity-based student groups that exist on campus.”

MARCH 1, 2021

Bruce Chan.

COURTESY OF BRUCE CHAN

SCSU’s outreach to the student body. He wants to integrate the SCSU with student clubs and the university’s academic departments by helping them with their events. “I really hope the SCSU could shift the focus from hosting events themselves to assisting student clubs to host events,” said Chan.

Tinasri Ismail (MOTIVATE UTSC) Tinasri Ismail is a fourth-year student majoring in health studies with a double minor in psychology and urban public policy, and she is running under the MOTIVATE UTSC slate. If elected, she would focus on increasing accessibility of transport and housing for students.

Ismail has been working at U of T for all four years of her undergraduate degree, beginning as a supervisor for Athletics & Recreation. She has also worked as an ambassador to the Health & Wellness Centre.

“I’m trying to make things more affordable to students and more accessible and… more competent [for the] commute back and forth,” Ismail said in an interview with The Varsity. She would accomplish this by making parking more affordable, reprioritizing the completion of the Eglinton East light rail transit (LRT) — a proposed extension of the TTC’s Line 5 that would pass through UTSC — and providing students with better bus stops.

Andy Mai (MOTIVATE UTSC) Andy Mai is a third-year student studying finance and is running for the position of vicepresident operations at the SCSU. He is currently the management director on the SCSU Board of Directors and has worked as vicepresident of internal duties and finances at the Chinese Undergraduate Association (CUA).

If elected, Mai wants to bring the University of Toronto Mississauga Students’ Union’s ‘Free Breakfast Wednesday’ program to UTSC students. “I know that, right now, there’s still a lot of students who can’t afford… their lunch, or they can’t afford breakfast,” he said in an interview with The Varsity.

He also wants to use his connections and previous experience at the CUA to bring bigger sponsors to support the SCSU. “[The CUA] worked with a lot of sponsors… we had a collaboration with the Scarborough Town Centre.”

Additionally, Mai wants to lobby to make the COVID-19 vaccine accessible for international students currently in Canada. “We

Tinasri Ismail.

COURTESY OF TINASRI ISMAIL

Ismail added that she would communicate consistently with the vice-president operations to maintain an updated program of volunteer opportunities, as well as start a housing rights campaign so that students can advocate for safer, more stable housing.

Andy Mai.

COURTESY OF ANDY MAI

have to figure something out together to let the government know, so they can give our international students some priority to get the vaccine,” he added.

Business & Labour U of T Employment Equity Report: 2019 data shows modest improvement in Black representation .

FIONA TUNG/THEVARSITY

Though Black, Indigenous communities still experience very low participation

Janine AlHadidi Varsity Staff

On February 3, the University of Toronto officially released its Report on Employment Equity, which was based on data collected in 2019. The report provides important insights into the composition of the university’s faculty, librarians, and staff, reflecting data on employees’ gender identities, sexual orientations, Indigenous status, disabilities, racialization status, and ethno-cultural identities.

The report pays particular attention to the Black and Indigenous population employed by U of T to inform special initiatives targeted at those sections of the community.

Now in its third year of publication since the survey was overhauled in 2016, the report divides the survey results into two sections: “appointed staff ” and “appointed faculty and librarians.” Furthermore, the report includes new changes that take a closer look at facets of employment such as recruitment, promotions, and retention.

By employing data visualization techniques, the report presents its data through an intersectional framework, locating the various identities that make up the employment body across the campuses.

A year in the making The report’s responses were primarily collected through U of T’s Employment Equity Survey: an optional, anonymous questionnaire open to all University of Toronto employees, including appointed and non-appointed staff. It differentiated between three categories of employees: faculty, librarians, and staff.

Data collection took place from January 1 to December 31, 2019, combining responses from the Employment Equity Survey with relevant applicant information from the university’s own application tracking system. The 2019 survey received an 87.1 per cent response rate, which marked the highest number of responses since 2016 and a nine percentage point increase from the number of responses in 2018.

The inaugural Employment Equity Survey launched on July 1, 2016, and was created to allow the university to critically assess the diversity of its workforce, relative to the composition of the overall Canadian workforce.

Improvements made, yet to be made The report highlighted important demographic insights about Black employees. Most notably, it showed that the proportion of staff respondents who self-identified as Black increased from six per

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/business biz@thevarsity.ca

cent in 2018 to 6.7 per cent in 2019. The proportion of Black faculty sat at 2.9 per cent in 2019, while the proportion of Black librarians was too small to be reported. This is an increase from 2018, when the combined proportion of Black faculty and librarians comprised two per cent.

When surveying for Indigenous staff, only one per cent of respondents identified accordingly, consistent with the proportion of respondents in the previous year. Faculty demographics saw a slight increase in Indigenous proportion, with 1.1 per cent of faculty respondents identifying as such compared to one per cent of faculty and librarians in 2018. The proportion of Indigenous-identifying librarians was also too small to be reported. The report does not distinguish between Métis, Inuit, and different First Nations groups.

Despite the progress made, the proportion of Black and Indigenous employees remains amongst the lowest demographics of employees at U of T. When considering all employees — faculty, librarians, and staff alike — Black individuals represented 5.5 per cent of respondents, and Indigenous individuals represented 1.1 per cent of respondents.

It is worth noting that the proportions of continuing faculty — including those in tenured and teaching streams — were approximately just as diverse as the faculty in contractually limited term appointments and part-time positions. The report demonstrated that nearly 43 per cent of continuing faculty hired in 2019 self-identified as racialized.

An intersectional lens Of staff identifying as Black, approximately 73.1 per cent self-identified as women, while only 27.5 per cent identified as men. For Black faculty, these proportions were 62.9 per cent and 35.5 per cent, respectively. Of staff identifying as Indigenous, 58.9 per cent identified as women and 39.3 per cent identified as men. For Indigenous faculty, these proportions were 60.0 per cent and 32.0 per cent, respectively.

The report also used an LGBTQ+ lens to analyze overlapping identities amongst different racial and ethnic groups. Among all respondents, 9.4 per cent of respondents identified as “LGBQ2S+,” while 0.7 per cent identified as “trans.” Regarding gender identity, individuals were only categorized

as “men,” “women,” or “trans” — the latter category explicitly including transgender men and women alongside non-binary and genderqueer people.

The proportion of respondents who identified with the LGBTQ+ community varied by racialized and ethnic group. Among Black staff, 5.2 per cent of respondents identified as “LGBQ2S+,” while 1.2 per cent identified as “trans.” “LGBQ2S+” people were more strongly represented among Black faculty at 22.6 per cent, while too few faculty identified as “trans” to be reported. Among Indigenous staff, 23.5 per cent of respondents identified as “LGBQ2S+,” while 5.4 per cent identified as “trans.” Among Indigenous faculty, these statistics are 28 per cent and 12 per cent, respectively.

The report also took note of the intersection between the Black and Indigenous communities, with 6.5 per cent of Black faculty also identifying as Indigenous, corresponding with the 16 per cent of Indigenous faculty also identifying as Black.

People at this intersection did not respond sufficiently to be represented among staff.

Next steps In an email to The Varsity, a U of T Media Relations spokesperson outlined the importance of this report in informing policy change at the institutional level. “Together with our annual Equity, Diversity & Inclusion Report, the Employment Equity Report shows our commitment to and progress in attracting and retaining diverse talent,” they wrote. “The report illustrates our commitment to creating an inclusive and accessible workplace, while highlighting where progress is still needed.”

When asked about the impact of this report in the long term, they added that it will “[help] us to better understand and support our community. It also informs and assists in the shaping of our institutional strategies, including [human resources] practices and processes to ensure that we are being intentionally inclusive.”

Moreover, the report highlighted improvements from the year before. This included the fact that the proportion of staff who self-identify as racialized persons or persons of colour increased this year.

Although there is clearly room for improvement, this year’s Employment Equity Report is a step forward in identifying the various demographics that exist and operate at the university.

No man’s burden: U of T’s African Impact Challenge incubates startups for continent’s local development

First cohort focuses on early childhood education, sustainable drinking water, online learning Spencer Y. Ki Business & Labour Editor

All too often, international efforts to drive growth in low-income countries are tinged with ‘saviourism’ — the idea that poverty can be alleviated through top-down management by those in high-income countries. The African Impact Challenge, hosted by Toronto’s African Impact Initiative (AII), was founded by African U of T students to show that African nations can develop independently.

Through its inaugural challenge this past year, AII has begun a new effort to spur local economic development in Africa. It successfully partnered with three Ghanian student startups in 2020 and is now looking forward to applying the lessons it learned for their 2021 cohort in Kenya.

From Africa to U of T and back The African Impact Initiative was founded in November 2016 by executives of U of T’s African Students’ Association. While it was originally run by undergraduates, has a student executive team, and is still affiliated with ULife, the AII’s original founders — who are now university alumni — are still heavily involved with its endeavours.

One such co-founder is Efosa Obano, a Nigerian-born UTSC business graduate, who wanted to use his management skills to give back to the continent of his birth. He spoke to The Varsity on the AII’s history and the inspiration behind the African Impact Challenge.

“While at the African Students’ Association… my role was really to connect with other students, get the word out [about] the events and stuff we planned,” he explained. “We had a lot of different conversations that planted the seeds for African Impact Initiative… about just taking action and the different ideas that we had to build or fix the places that we called home, and to fix our community here in Canada.”

Over the past few years, the AII have matured these ideas into a number of African-centric ventures. These include efforts in Toronto — like the U of T-based African Impact Conference — and in Africa, like rural development projects.

Home-grown innovation One of the initiative’s projects eventually evolved into the African Impact Challenge, a pitch competition-cum-incubator program. The challenge is open to young African entrepreneurs who have a big idea to solve a critical problem in their community. The project was funded by a $50,000 pledge by the AII, which was matched by the U of T Entrepreneurship’s True Blue Fund, yielding a total investment of $100,000. It ran for the first time in 2020 and accepted pitches from young innovators in Ghana.

According to Obano, out of around 90 applications from across Ghana, the AII selected three teams to mentor based on criteria intended to promote economic growth. These included a focus on solving local community issues and a desire to tackle non-consumption — the inability

for consumers to access an existing product due to costliness or other barriers.

Obano noted that he felt unable to make real change before earning his degree, and said that part of the program is about giving inexperienced students the opportunity to make a difference.

“They’re all first-time founders that ordinarily wouldn’t have the opportunity,” he said, speaking of the Ghanian entrepreneurs. “We’re trying to give those people a chance — people that wouldn’t get looked at by other investors because they don’t have any experience or credibility.”

A prosperous prototype The core of this opportunity is professional mentorship, startup incubation, and $10,000 in preseed funding for successful applicants, which the three Ghanian teams used to create solutions to local problems.

Team Abofra was composed of students from Ashesi University in Ghana’s capital of Accra.

The team’s local problem was the prevalence of poor-quality early childhood education across Africa, and its solution was to deliver such education via a text-and-audio mobile app. The service is subscription-based but markets itself to economically disadvantaged people with affordable fees.

Team Rüwã on the Go was created by fourthyear students also at Ashesi University and aimed to address the excessive plastic waste from bottled water consumption across Ghana. The team’s plan to reduce this excess involved setting up refillable

water stations at popular points around communities.

Team Lookupp was founded by third-year students from the Ghana Technology University College. Also education-focused, Lookupp’s target audience was older than Abofra’s, emphasizing the teaching of practical skills to Ghanian youth. Its solution was a web app that connects students with tutors online.

New opportunities for Black creators With the success of the Ghana cohort, Obano is ready to apply the lessons he learned to the Kenya cohort in the coming year.

“The one thing that we’re changing for sure is adding a phase called pre-incubation,” he explained. “[With] very young, first-time founders who haven’t really started companies before, there’s a lot of capacity building that’s needed before they even get to the point of actually getting funding and building a company.”

Although his sights are now set on the youth of Kenya, Efosa’s final message in the interview was directed to Black and African students who, like him, came to develop themselves at U of T. “We have a unique experience: either you’re African or you’re Black or both… You’re already at a point that isn’t an advantage point, just by virtue of being one or both,” he said. “Instead of being discouraged by that challenge, you should view it as an opportunity… You get to change that narrative by what you do with your life, by what you do with your time, and your ideas.”

Comment

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/comment comment@thevarsity.ca

Op-ed: “Cops Off Campus” — what does it actually mean?

A Black UTGSU executive imagines a safer university for all

FIONA TUNG/THEVARSITY

Lwanga Gasuza Musisi Varsity Contributor

On December 16, I was stalked, stopped, and questioned by five campus police officers outside the University of Toronto Graduate Students’ Union (UTGSU) building in connection to the union’s Police Off Campus campaign.

As a marked Campus Police patrol car stood in the distance with headlights on full beam directly our way, I remember thinking to myself, “How bad could this go?” Unfortunately, my thoughts instantly changed the moment the beacon lights lit up and the cruiser drove our way. The Campus Police cruiser intensely parked at once to our side at a 45-degree angle — as though to block our pathway from a supposed escape.

What followed was a downward spiralling interaction — as far as conversation goes — as I began to attempt to answer the barrage of questions thrown at us by the officers. My coworkers and I cooperatively responded to questions; however, it was not long before we noticed that the particular manner in which I was being responded to and interrogated by the officers was simply different to the others I was with.

I adjusted my behaviour given my knowledge and experience with campus police and police in general — as a Black man, I am often forced to surrender to respectability politics and passivity for my safety. Surprisingly or not, my replies to the questions were not being received with the same regard as my two colleagues, who happen to be white allies.

Before I knew it, I was accused of being “aggressive” simply for hanging a “Cops Off Campus” banner outside our office. Had I been alone or with other Black students, or had there not been a union supporting me, I know this altercation could have gone differ-

ently — even with that mentioned, the situation was escalating fast, as is often the case when police interact with racialized communities.

The University of Toronto campus police are special constables given authority through the Ontario Police Services Act by the Toronto Police Services Board. Principally, campus police officers are given the same authority as regular police officers while they’re on campus. The mere presence of police in schools, in the more general view, is worryingly powered and operated by a historical dehumanization of racialized and marginalized students, which suggests and translates to the need to be constantly snooping on these bodies.

In a 2011 book titled Punished: Policing the Lives of Black and Latino Boys, sociologist Victor M. Rios describes hypercriminalization as a sequence through which a person’s routine behaviour, practices, and panache become pervasively regarded to as non-conforming, rascal, criminally dangerous and threatening within a dominant social ‘acceptance.’ For racialized students, the existence of campus police means nothing short of a perpetuation of this pervasive hypercriminalization culture.

Since the tragic deaths of Chantel Moore, George Floyd, Regis Korchinski-Paquet, and woefully many more, the discussion about redirecting power and resources from policing as we know it and, in turn, investing it in community care has come to the forefront. But for many of us, this conversation is long overdue.

There are multiple sources of research that affirm and demonstrate that an increased presence of police on campus or schools does not exactly make these institutions safer.

Since the University of Toronto’s Campus Police organization was created in 1904, there has been a long list of troublesome and problematic interactions between police and students — reported and unreported. Just over a

year ago, a student was handcuffed by campus police after seeking mental health support. In another instance, transgender and racialized students were assaulted at a Jordan Peterson rally while campus police were present.

It is imperative that we, as a community, begin to demystify the misconceptions that have kept us dependent on archaic and obsolete models of campus safety in order to establish a clear and progressive campus and community environment we wish to see prosper that is celebratory and reflective of our true diversity.

However, by drawing from my own personal outreach samples as well as from discussions I have had with fellow students, friends, and colleagues, there seems to be a general concern around the question of safety and security while discussing what “Cops Off Campus” truly means.

In an open letter addressed to U of T President Meric Gertler, students and faculty members made the case that “an institution premised on fear, domination, force does not make U of T safe.” Conversely, if we establish that the concern is safety for all, then why do we not push for safer and more meaningful security for us all?

“Cops Off Campus” seeks to visualize a new way forward from outdated policing as we know it. From the adoption of meaningful and safer student mental health services, to addressing cases on gender-based violence, sexual harassment, and other cases that involve the need for investigation, there are more student effective means and ways in which we can establish a safer campus environment for all, and just not for the few.

Campus police are called to open locked classrooms after hours, operate the lost and found, and chase away people who are experiencing homelessness from trying to find a place to warm up; these campus police duties could be performed by other organizations.

Contemporarily, in response to waves of transformation, resistance, and collective social responsibility, we are being led to believe that change is ‘radical’ and that ‘radical’ is a bad word –– but only when disrupting hegemonic dominant discourses. Let us take a moment to imagine what it would look like if the university invested the funds that go to Campus Police on meaningful and sustainable support for mental health and wellness, anticarceral community safety initiatives, alternate emergency response services, and more.

Contextually, allyship and solidarity statements are not trending key words or a simple hashtag, but a stance we must choose if we are truly anti-racist and anti-colonial in our practices. I use the term ‘anti’ because there is no space in between. Choosing intentionally and vehemently to be anti-racist is an act of true solidarity.

Equally so, ‘racist’ should not be viewed as a fixed label or identity, nor should it be taken as an insult heavier than the action at hand.

Rather, it is the prevailing attitudes, implicit biases, and deep-seated systemic prejudices that we must unlearn and constantly challenge. “Cops Off Campus” means re-imagining a safer campus for us all, community collaboration, radical change, and moving forward together.

May we all have had a critically reflective Black History Month. Let us continue to create more spaces to learn through the unlearning of misconceptions that perpetuate anti-Blackness and other forms of systemic oppression on campus, in our communities, and ideally, Canada at large.

Lwanga Gasuza Musisi is a fourth-year doctoral candidate at the Department of Social Justice Education at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education.

He is currently serving his second term in office as the UTGSU’s university governance commissioner.

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Op-ed: An ode to the Black Students’ Association BSA president: U of T admin must take active steps to show solidarity

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Cindy Njoki Kamau Varsity Contributor

The efforts of the Black Students’ Association (BSA) have often gone unnoticed and underappreciated. The BSA is the largest representation of self-identified Black students and has been deeply committed to the social and political rights of the Black student population at the University of Toronto.

More than just a school club, the BSA should be recognized and appreciated as an essential space at the university on account of its protection of the Black student population through its advocacy and racial equity determinations.

The reality is that it is draining to be a Black student at U of T. Whether it’s feeling powerless and defeated after a heavy lecture on slavery or racial microaggressions over your university period, Black students tend to experience an accumulation of discriminative and painful situations that weigh us down, almost like an invisible backpack.

Coupled with the fact that many Black students sometimes find themselves marginalized as the only Black person in their classrooms or sometimes in their programs, many of them report feelings of isolation and impostor syndrome at some

point in their university journey.

Yet, the BSA serves as a fundamental buffer zone for peace of mind and well-being for Black students at the university. The BSA has cultivated a space for Black students to connect with one another and form a solidified community, alleviating feelings of loneliness that can be constantly felt in other university spaces.

Through its ambitious and creative events program throughout the year, such as its annual Black History Month Programming and the BSA Art Show, the club gives Black students a chance to put down their invisible backpack and celebrate their identity in an institution that fails to do so.

Beyond creative events, the BSA has engaged in indispensable advocacy and advancement of social justice measures to make campus a more equitable space for Black students. Drawing from my twoyear experience as the former political director and current president, the BSA executive team puts in long and taxing hours to implement anti-racism initiatives and advance equity measures for the protection of the Black student population.

For instance, in response to the systemic low enrolment of Black students in postsecondary institutions, the BSA executive team founded and continues to run the annual BSA High School

Conference to encourage Black high school students to enrol in postsecondary schools.

In addition, the BSA perpetually raises awareness on issues that affect Black students and the broader Black community, such as the BSA letter that addressed the effects of police brutality on the Black community. With countless other initiatives that the BSA implements, it is clear that the BSA plays an instrumental role in upholding the rights and fostering ways for Black students to prosper on campus.

In recognition of their crucial role at the university, I urge the University of Toronto administration to demonstrate true solidarity and allyship for the BSA through calls to action. It should not be the sole burden of the BSA and other Blackaffiliated groups to carry out anti-racism advocacy, but instead, it should be a collective action that is supported by the administration in a top-down approach that allows the university to be as equitable as possible.

Rather than extending a hand in solidarity with the BSA primarily when there is a crisis in the Black community, I urge the administration and community to engage in permanent anti-racism actions even when there is no apparent crisis.

To achieve this, I propose that the administration should implement the following calls to action.

First, I propose that they should listen to and consult with members of the BSA and otherBlack affiliated groups prior to implementing equity and diversity policies while also ensuring that they do not burden students. Taking into account the voices of the Black student population would ensure that equity and diversity policies neither override nor ignore the demands of the Black student body and would allow those policies to be as truly equitable as they aim to be.

Second, I argue that the administration should mandate annual equity and diversity training that specifically focuses on anti-Black racism among

all university staff, faculty, and even student clubs. This form of training would warrant that classroom and extracurricular spaces within the university are more welcoming and inclusive environments for the Black student population, as well as for other racialized groups.

Although this is not a comprehensive list, these reforms serve as first steps toward going beyond passive allyship, and instead demonstrating true and active solidarity with the BSA. Lastly, I dedicate the remainder of this piece as an ode to the BSA. I pay tribute to the past and present BSA executives who are the backbone and pillars of the club and who have dedicated themselves to advocacy for their fellow Black students. I acknowledge the BSA membership, who, despite the hurdles that they may encounter on a daily basis, are constantly supporting the BSA’s endeavors and are truly the heart of the club.

This is also not to forget the BSA alumni, whose unparalleled struggles for equity measures have paved the way for the current and next generation of Black students here at the university, and whose efforts are never forgotten.

In a university where being a Black student can be a rather isolating experience, the BSA has managed to construct a safe space for Black students to feel at home. By enabling Black students to generate a community that feels like family and building walls of protection through its advancement in equity, the BSA has built a legacy in the political and social protection of the Black student body at the university. In light of this important role, the BSA deserves to be honoured and supported by the University of Toronto administration in all of its efforts.

Cindy Njoki Kamau is a fourth-year political science and African studies student at Victoria College. She is the president of the BSA.

Support for BLM must be steady, not sporadic

Reflecting on the impact of last summer’s protests, eight months later Abi Akinlade Varsity Contributor

On June 10, at around 1:00 am, I began writing the scraps of what would become a personal essay in response to the surge of Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests in the US. It was days before my birthday; lockdown fatigue was kicking my ass, and after days of feeling simultaneously sickened by and desensitized to the anti-Black violence dominating the news cycle, I had to release my feelings in one of the only ways I know how — by writing them all out.

In my essay, I described how it felt to be a Black American at the time: my heart would drop as I read yet another headline about an unarmed Black person murdered by the police.

It’s been almost a full eight months since I wrote that essay — a year since the death of Ahmaud Arbery, 11 months since the death of Breonna Taylor, and nine months since the death of George Floyd. I wanted to revisit this piece, this all-too-familiar pain, to see how far we’ve come and reflect on the importance of true activism.

As a Black woman, I have been called the n-word, compared to the devil, stereotyped as angry and loud, followed in stores, had my features mocked, been ridiculed for speaking African-American Vernacular English, had my hair touched without my permission, and been subjected to a host of other aggressions.

In these instances, I was faced with my strongest “fight, flight, or freeze” instincts. And every time, like clockwork, I chose to freeze.

It was as if my brain simply couldn’t process the fact that I was being subjected to racism by people who I considered my friends and my teachers, or by people in my hometown and on my campus. I felt ambushed and forced to stay silent, so I erroneously pushed my own wellbeing aside in favour of mitigation.

Last May, while I was desperately scrolling through social media and reading New York Times articles in my room, I felt something shift.

There was something about witnessing millions of people marching, protesting, and screaming at the top of their lungs that Black lives did indeed matter that incentivized me. It made me more willing to stand for my truth — more willing to call out racism exactly when and where I experienced it.

This, however, has led me to recognize an important reality: the onus should not be on the Black community to call out every instance of racism that we experience. It remains the responsibility of white people and non-Black racialized people to examine how their everyday actions and words have historically been used to degrade, dehumanize, and belittle Black people.

For allyship to be consequential, it must steadily resist the lure of being self-serving. Last summer, we saw blatant acts of performative activism perpetrated by a select few non-Black people attending protests to get pictures for their Instagram feeds or haphazardly posting black screens before descending back into relative unawareness.

In June, U of T released a statement claiming that it was committed to continuing building

Allies need to be ready to speak out all year — not just when it’s popular.

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a safe environment for Black students. Yet an Instagram account dedicated to exposing racist incidents across all three campuses — @beingblackatuoft — has dozens of posts submitted

by Black, Indigenous, and other racialized students.

Meaningful solidarity requires cognizance of the maliciousness of systemic racism and its propensity to pervade change when not critically faced head on. It involves the tangible support of grassroots organizations and Black activists. It entails listening to Black people when we tell you about our experiences and which actions are genuinely beneficial to our community.

As Black History Month comes to an end, it serves as a poignant reminder that our ad-

vancements should impel us all to fight for more, rather than suspend our momentum. The progress that we witnessed was made possible through acts of protest, public dissent, and demonstrations of true solidarity.

Last year’s response to BLM was the most attention that the movement had received in a while, but in order for the Black community and Black students at U of T to feel safe — to feel as though we are actually being heard and seen — the fight against anti-Black racism must be emphatic and enduring. It must be proactive rather than reactive. This is only the beginning.

Abi Akinlade is a second-year drama and English student at Woodsworth College.

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MARCH 1, 2021

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Op-ed: Why it’s important to create a Black graduate community A BGSA executive reflects on the group’s mission, activities, impact

Layan Elfaki Varsity Contributor

As a minoritized individual pursuing higher education, I have witnessed the lack of opportunities available to underrepresented youth, which ultimately impedes one’s professional development.

Aware of this difficulty, I became extensively involved in equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) initiatives during my final two years of undergraduate studies. Once I graduated in June of 2020, I intended to continue my EDI endeavours, but I was uncertain of the avenue through which that could be accomplished.

Fortunately, I came across the Black Graduate Students Association (BGSA) recruitment posters. I applied and ended up being elected the outreach coordinator for this academic year. My role encompasses reaching out to university, community, and industry partners to provide opportunities and resources to underrepresented graduate and undergraduate students on campus.

Founded in 2018, the goal of the BGSA is to support Black students through initiatives, events, and engaging in discourse. Working toward that mission, we planned and held monthly events relating to networking, mental health, and a few socializing events.

Thus far, we’ve held a series of networking events aimed at providing interprofessional assistance for students looking to venture into the job market. For instance, this past networking event, we invited reputable industry recruiters to have one-on-one meetings with students in a virtual interview setting to provide constructive feedback regarding their job interview skills.

Moreover, the industry and campus recruiters addressed various struggles that candidates face when applying for jobs, while providing advice on how to boost their job applications. Additionally, through meeting with the industry recruiters, I

The BGSA is currently in the process of planning a symposium to showcase Black research.

COURTESY OF LAYAN ELFAKI

realized that many well-known firms are now actively working toward EDI by allocating resources to facilitate recruitment of underrepresented individuals.

In my experience, I’ve found that highly qualified marginalized individuals don’t apply to such positions simply because they aren’t aware they exist.

Thus, the BGSA plays a vital role in providing such individuals with access to opportunities. I was pleasantly surprised with the success of this event, and the passion and dedication of the industry recruiters to support the BGSA’s membership.

In addition to networking events, we organized a very successful panel of Black mental health experts.

While fostering a safe space, we invited professionals at various levels of training to engage in productive dialogue regarding when to seek help, ways to

stay healthy during the pandemic, and resources available for individuals facing crisis.

The event panelists’ honesty and vulnerability was most impactful as it allowed for the audience to reciprocate a similar openness as they shared their experiences with mental illness. The BGSA’s crucial role in formulating these community spaces cannot be understated.

We also aimed to foster a sense of community through monthly social events that tended to be less formal and structured. These included movie nights and game nights, as well as study sessions. However, the most fruitful social event we held was organized in collaboration with the BGSA of the University of Alberta as well as the African Graduate Student Association at the University of Waterloo.

Held this past January, the inter-university so-

cial enabled students across these three campuses to interact while partaking in stimulating Black trivia and engaging in deeper conversations regarding lived experiences of Black graduate students.

I was especially excited by the prospect of collaborating across universities because not only does it allow the sharing of opportunities and resources, but it also allows cultivation of long-term relationships between these associations. This is especially valuable considering the rarity of opportunities.

As for upcoming events, we’re currently in the process of planning a research symposium for this May. The goal of this symposium will be to provide Black students with an opportunity to showcase their research while simultaneously learning about the research of fellow students.

We’re aiming to enable international submissions to expand the BGSA’s reach while building a community among Black graduate students on a global scale. Black students can join our membership by reaching out to us on social media to be notified when submissions open.

If it’s not evident already, it’s been a pleasure being part of the BGSA; through my involvement, I was able to make active contributions to support fellow Black students while expanding my interpersonal skills and social network in the process. I also got to be part of a community of people I could relate to in terms of experiences, lived struggles, and humour. All these factors enriched my experience and I’m very grateful for it.

Lastly, it’s worth mentioning the dedication and kindness of my executive team, which has not only inspired me to work harder but has also brightened many days during this pandemic. All of this couldn’t have been possible without the BGSA. Layan Elfaki is a graduate student at the Institute of Medical Science. She is the outreach coordinator for the BGSA.

Online activism must stray away from performativity

After the 2020 BLM protests, it’s important to verify information found on social media Victoria Santana Varsity Contributor

In the beginning, social media was meant to bring people together to communicate and foster creativity. However, especially after last summer, these intentions have shifted. Political and social issues that are urgently in need of solutions are posted on social media to reach a larger audience.

As movements such as the Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests take over the globe, we must consider who is genuinely outraged and committed to change and who is simply trying to keep up with appearances.

As popular culture tends to dictate what is morally correct and incorrect, it sets a standard that everyone feels a pressure to adhere to. The weight of the world lays heavier on people’s shoulders as the internet gives members of society free rein to assess others’ involvement in social causes based on their own personal moral scales.

In the wake of this summer’s events, social media followers bombarded influencers and companies across all platforms with messages about current issues in order to ultimately determine if the person or company aligned themselves with the movement. Some would say that cancel culture has incited this way of thinking. To prove their support, all the companies or influencers had to do was take a few seconds to hit repost or retweet and a few minutes to post a black square and a couple of hashtags.

In June of 2020, in light of the BLM movement, I took the time to truly think about what those around me were doing to make change in society. Many posts seemed to be very passionate but lacked the correct information and proper resources to educate more people.

Many just reposted infographics filled with information about the movement onto their stories.

However, many of these kinds of posts did not include sources for reference, which made it difficult to verify if the information was correct and reliable. Overall, this undermined the benefit of the posts, as those who took them at face value were not able to discern between what was true and what was false.

As detailed in an Instagram post from writer and sociologist Eve Ewing, explainer posts and graphics can “oversimplify complex ideas in harmful or misleading ways.” The lack of accountability behind viral infographic posts inadvertently opened up pathways for misinformation as well.

For those that didn’t want to critically engage with the injustices occurring around them, being asked to make a few posts on social media presented itself as an easy way to get recognition while doing the bare minimum. Performance is an inherent aspect of social media, and these influencers and companies were now given the opportunity to perform solidarity.

I asked my peers questions like, what is your intention in posting a black square? Many said it was to show their support for BLM, but an overwhelming number said that they were doing it because of others and that they felt a sense of guilt and peer pressure.

The spread of misinformation has done more harm than good. An article published by CNN

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analyzed the situation with the help of experts, and it showed that the hashtags #BlackLivesMatter and #BlackOutTuesday caused a problem in the relay of important information. Everyone who posted a black square also used the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter, burying actual information about the movement.

Those who were properly informed used the correct hashtag. Those who used the wrong hashtag only validated the idea that society’s perception of them mattered more than true and genuine intentions. Societal norms have dictated how we are supposed to act and respond since the beginning of time. To cause real change that is not performative, we must act outside of social media platforms, not just post a picture and believe that our debt to society has been paid.

The solution to this problem is for people to actively research the issue and make sure that what they are reposting is not harming the movement by spreading false information. What can you do that’s better than just reposting or retweeting a tweet? Reading articles, signing online petitions, contacting your local organization that supports the cause, and internalizing the information you find so that you can cause change not only online, but also in person.

We must use the verifiable information we learn and act upon it. This can truly change the way society fights social issues, and could help us transition away from the culture in which issues that affect people every day become overnight internet sensations that we forget about months later. Instead, these movements should be long term and put in place for the betterment of society.

Victoria Santana is a first-year social sciences student at Victoria College.

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FEATURES

The invisible visible minority: life as a Black student at U of T There is no coming-of-age fantasy for us here Leah Mpinga Varsity Contributor

The first week of my second year at the University of Toronto started out like every year. To understand that feeling, it was standing under the summer sun — which shone just on the cusp of slipping into autumn. It was the awkward run-ins with the people you used to be with in class, the ones you saw at a gross first-year frat party, the classmates you followed on Instagram, or that person you spoke to that one time during the first week of first year.

It was the half an hour wait time at the U of T Bookstore, dropping $200 on a textbook you’ll read once, and then rushing from St. George to your next destination, whether that be class, home, or — god forbid — Robarts Library. It was wondering whether standing in line for the brown food truck was really worth it. It was the one time of the year when U of T campuses don’t pulsate with student anxiety.

As I walked into my NEW150 — Introduction to African Studies class in the basement of New College, something unexpected happened. When I entered, the classroom was filled with a majority of Black students.

Having spent a year at U of T living at Victoria College, it had become very clear to me that UTSG did not have an abundance of Black students. In fact, Victoria College had so little diversity that I

could immediately spot Black students I had never seen before in the dining hall. I’ve had a friend tell me, “I keep thinking you’re that other dark-skin girl.” I’ve sat down at the dining hall and heard a fellow Black student explain weaves as others ogled at her, half confused and half scared at the idea of fake hair.

It’s safe to say that many of the antics that happened in first year continued throughout my first few weeks in my second year. This mainly consisted of friends putting their arms up to mine to compare skin tones and saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch up to you next summer.” By the way, white people, please stop doing that. My skin colour is not a tan; it’s called melanin.

You see, being Black at U of T is unique. You walk into a classroom expecting to be one of the only Black students. You expect that whenever conversations surrounding race are brought up in tutorials, eyes will shift your way, as if you alone suddenly represent the entire Black race. So when I walked into NEW150 on that Thursday morning in September, I felt confused.

In my head, I had already established that U of T wasn’t a place where classrooms could be filled with Black students. In fact, I had just come to terms with the idea that from my early education through my postsecondary studies, I was going to be one of the only Black students in the room. Having gone to school in a white suburb of London, UK, I was used to it. Actually, I was actually used to much worse.

A classmate in an A-Level politics class once said that colonialism “wasn’t that bad — at least it gave the countries railways.” Teachers used to tell me that they didn’t know how I fit in the classroom “with all that hair.” Girls would say, “we’re French, remember, we’re racist,” as an excuse for why they wouldn’t meet up with a boy after school who was “half Black.”

Over the course of seven years, I became great at ignoring these instances. Racism, intolerance, and ignorance — whether purposeful or not — were large parts of my educational experience.

After that first class, I walked with one of my classmates to the Tim Hortons in the Medical Sci-

ences Building. She is Irish-Rwandan. I am semiBritish and Congolese. If you know anything about world history and conflicts, then you can say it was the epitome of an unlikely friendship.

We sat on the steps, and I remember her saying, “Girl, did you see how many Black people there were?” Ah! She had noticed it too. “I didn’t even know there were that many of us here,” she continued. How was it that my new friend had had the exact same thought as me? How is it that even from the neuroscience department to the diaspora and transnational studies major, we had both come to feel like we were the ultimate aliens on campus?

Over the course of my second year, that NEW150 classroom gave me chances to debate and express myself freely. I never had the thought that I was speaking to represent a whole demographic of people. I never had to explain why we shouldn’t just get over colonialism, and no girl was subjected to being questioned if that was her real hair or not.

But when I stepped out of this space and found myself on other parts of campus, I became more aware of how singular this experience was.

I grew frustrated with some of my peers. I wrote about being racially stereotyped on nights out, questioned why I had never spoken out about comments that had made me uncomfortable in class, and began to ask myself: was institutionalized education ever going to be a safe space for Black people? Does U of T provide these figurative and physical spaces for its Black students?

In the context of the world An eight-minute video showed the brutal killing of George Floyd by a police officer in the middle of a pandemic. Immediately, social media — and streets all over the world — erupted with protest.

But what stood out to me was watching my current and former classmates engage with the social media phenomenon that is ‘slacktivism’ — a new term that encompasses ‘activists’ whose contributions to

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movements consist only of Instagram stories and Twitter posts.

The conversation soon switched from the brutalization of Black bodies by police enforcement to white and beige infographics titled “What is White Privilege?” Some of my classmates and peers who had been politically active all semester for a range of other issues didn’t speak out or go to protests.

Even worse were those who had indirectly or directly made comments about Black people, and who only did the most performative action of posting “#BlackOutTuesday.”

I was frustrated, sad, and — simply put — overwhelmed. Many of these people I had seen in class, on campus, or at parties, and more did not have a single Black friend in their circles at U of T, yet they were preaching about Black issues and trauma as if they had taken the time in their daily lives to understand it.

I realized that this was the status quo at this university. From the wokest of the woke, who inhabit corners of campus like the Junior Common Room or Caffiends — who assume that talking about anti-racism makes them anti-racist — to students who propagate harmful views toward marginalizied communities in class and on social media, yet receive equity scholarships, the University of Toronto has effectively rendered its Black students invisible.

In the heat of the moment, I took to Instagram stories. I spoke out on social media about the hypocrisy of #BlackOutTuesday and the ability of white people to somehow turn the ongoing Black Lives Matter movement into a ‘white issue.’

I urged for people to take their anti-racism work off of social media and make it active work. I spoke about how I resented some of my university peers for only caring about Black people when they dance with us at parties, or when we’re their close friends or love interests, and for sharing videos of Black trauma.

Instagram pages such as @beingblackatuoft be-

gan to detail experiences of our times here, which were often uncomfortable to read. It was a sorrowful reminder that U of T, both the institution and its student body, had failed its Black students by not creating a comfortable, safe place for us to reap the benefits of postsecondary education. There is no coming-of-age fantasy for us here.

After this summer, I decided that I would no longer ‘get political’ on social media. It was a boundary I had to draw for myself; it became exhausting to watch all the performative action, and for my posts to be lumped up with it. Even though I had engaged in good conversation with people about Black issues, I felt that it was only because I was palatable to my peers.

I am a middle-class, lighter-skinned woman with looser curls and a half-Canadian, half-British accent, who used to shy away from having conversations about race with her white peers just six months earlier. I would like to ask all those who seek to continue their anti-racist work: would you respect my message as much if I were a darkerskinned Black woman? If I were a Black member of the LGBTQ+ community? If I were a Black person with a disability?

During the pandemic, many students have taken the time to make their online presence more political. They position and label themselves as allies by posting different infographics that boil down 402 years of systemic oppression into 10 slides or less.

Unfortunately, this is not enough. Posting and spreading awareness only scratches the surface.

Many people forget that anti-racism work is active and requires you to be reactive.

“Black identities are not monolithic” When you educate yourself on these issues, do so with an open heart and mind, try to put away your internal biases, and don’t feel attacked by the people calling out your privilege.

Understand that not every Black person will react the same way to current events. Some will speak out and others won’t; some will protest and others won’t — and we are all in our full right to do so.

Most importantly, do not burden your Black friends with having to explain everything about race to you. They are not encyclopedias. The Black experience differs across the diaspora, and Black identities are not monolithic. At a university where Black students are minoritized, be aware of the jokes you recycle in an attempt to make yourself look ‘down with the brothas and sistas.’ Guaranteed, nine times out of 10, the joke flops, and we’re looking at you like you’re racist anyway.

Make sure that the conversations you’re having with friends and family mimic your online stances, and if not, ask yourself why. Why is it so easy for you to take a stance online but not in your every-

day actions? It begs bigger questions: is your antiracism work performed for the illusion of tolerance amongst a ‘liberal’ crowd? Is your internal bias larger than you think?

Posting on Instagram is harmful if the racialized people who know you well offline and on campus can tell that your intentions are not genuine. After all, posting on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook when you don’t have a clue about the issues at hand is like acknowledging that Africa is a vast and diversified continent and then asking me in the same breath, “So what part of Wakanda are you from?”

Being Black at U of T is a unique and complex experience. It is realizing that, in an already cutthroat environment, you must regulate your tone to avoid being branded as aggressive. It is hearing those who claim to work as allies quote and admire philosophers that believed ‘the Black man’ was incapable of rational thought.

Being Black at U of T is knowing that you belong because you work just as hard as everybody else, but also that you will have to push ever harder. It is realizing that your institution is not ready to condemn racist behaviour at the expense of a student.

It is looking around Convocation Hall, Sidney Smith Hall, Victoria College, Innis College, Woodsworth College, Trinity College, Rotman Commerce, New College, University College, and St. Michael’s College, and seeing few people that look like you. Being Black at the University of Toronto is toeing the line between the visible and the invisible.

In an ideal world, we will all be back on campus in September 2021. We will be queueing in line for our textbooks at the campus bookstore. We will be having those awkward run-ins with people we know — but just vaguely. We will be rushing across St. George because our next class is all the way on the other side of campus, or we will simply be praying that the brown food truck returns.

However, one thing that must change when we go back next year is that we take our anti-racism work to campus. Students, faculty members, and university administration must hold themselves accountable to ensure a safe and productive space for Black students. We must make those who have been rendered invisible, visible.

Illustrator: Rebeca Moya

Arts & Culture

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/arts arts@thevarsity.ca

From Zimbabwe to Canada — narratives of the Black experience are not singular On dissonance when reconciling Western tertiary education with its history of subjugation

Ashley Mutasa Varsity Contributor

The value of education was instilled in me from a very young age. In many Zimbabwean households, education is the best predictor of an individual’s future success.

Unsurprisingly, my mother unwaveringly supported my academic endeavours throughout my childhood. She would always say that my first husband should be my degree. Watching her make tremendous sacrifices to ensure that I would have access to the educational opportunities that

were devoid in her upbringing encouraged me to vigorously pursue higher education.

Unfortunately, in my final year of high school, I began to feel like I had reached an impasse.

Although I retained my enthusiasm for education, I was somewhat disillusioned by the prospect of staying in Zimbabwe.

Many of my peers who had graduated before me from local institutions found themselves struggling to find employment due to the economic turmoil resulting from rampant corruption and the looting of public resources by unscrupulous politicians.

However, the dream of pursuing higher education

REBECCA ROCCO/THEVARSITY

abroad remained an unattainable goal due to my family’s financial constraints.

While local advocates of higher education touted it for its unrivalled potential to promote social mobility and alleviate poverty, the situation in Zimbabwe was bleak. Many of the people who had managed to escape extreme poverty were those who had completed higher education abroad.

When I was awarded the Lester B. Pearson Scholarship to study at U of T, I felt as if the impossible had been achieved. I knew this was an unparalleled opportunity to garner knowledge and use it to affect change in my community.

Aside from the North American-based movies, books, and music I had consumed growing up, I was naïve and ignorant about many aspects of North American culture, particularly the Black experience.

When I moved to Canada for the first time, I was forced to confront my identity and how it interacted with people’s perceptions of me.

Growing up in Zimbabwe, the people who occupied prominent roles in society were all Black. My high school teachers were Black. My doctor was Black. The lawyers were Black, and most importantly, the president was Black.

In Canada, I was suddenly confronted with belonging to a minoritized group that was beleaguered by the legacy of slavery, mass incarceration, segregation, racism in policing, and white supremacist ideology. I experienced cognitive dissonance when trying to reconcile the pursuit of higher education in the west with its history of subjugating Black people.

Gradually, I internalized the palpable racial tensions, microaggressions, and media narratives, and I began to identify more with my race rather than my passions and goals. I constantly found myself battling feelings of being an impostor or questioning whether I was placed in a position to fill a diversity quota.

I came to the gradual realization that my experiences were not isolated; false assumptions and attitudes about Black people constituted the scaffolding of the structure of this new society I found myself in. These assumptions manifested themselves in the daily realities of Black people in Canada.

I began to wonder how I would have turned out if I was born in North America. Would the weight of subtle and implicit biases betray the assumption that others questioned my intelligence or perceived me as a threat?

I began to appreciate the privilege of growing up in Zimbabwe. In hindsight, growing up there — where my identity was not defined by the colour of my skin but by the content of my character, to adapt the words of Martin Luther King Jr. — fostered my individuality and independent thinking. That, to me, has been the greatest privilege I have yet attained in this world.

In the face of crippling bouts of self-doubt, I remain grounded in the identity that was formed during my upbringing in Zimbabwe. This ability to separate myself from a narrative perpetuated in society is what ultimately makes my experience of being Black in North America different.

For Black people who have grown up in North America, it is more challenging to divorce their own feelings of self-worth from those that are projected onto them by the society. I am constantly in awe of Black people in America who are familiar with this crucible. Despite it all, they remain resilient.

I think that the Black experience is multifaceted and different for everyone. Often in the media, there is a singular narrative perpetuated about it. The problem with a single narrative is that it homogenizes us and erases the individuality, diversity of thought, and experiences of the Black community.

During Black History Month, I think it is important to amplify the experiences of Black people within the community. I also believe that it is important for Black people to share their experiences to better foster that understanding.

Finally, I believe that it is important that we focus on increasing the role of Black mentors in the formative years of each child’s life.

The ability for people to see themselves in others reminds them that they are a valuable and contributing member of the society. One of the best ways to do that is through education.

Disorientation in conversation: a look at Ian Williams’ upcoming book U of T creative writing professor’s essay collection highlights the Black experience

Maggie MacInnis Varsity Contributor

In the ever-expanding world of Canadian literature, there are few contemporary voices as celebrated as the voice of Ian Williams.

This year, Williams, the Scotiabank Giller Prize-winning author of Reproduction, joined the U of T faculty list. Williams is juggling his teaching schedule and his writing deadlines while working on his forthcoming nonfiction essay collection titled Disorientation: The Experience of Being Black in the World.

Disorientation: melding personal experience and current tensions on race Williams’ creative muscles are always at work, and they have been particularly exerted over the last few months while working on Disorientation, which will be published in the fall by Penguin Random House.

He described Disorientation as a book about race, “but not in the ways that we have conversations about race these days.”

“Race tends to be very controversial and charged and polemic and fraught with defensiveness,” Williams said. “What if your racial experience was a little bit milder?”

By looking at the issue of race outside of an American context, Williams hopes to foster a productive discussion about twenty-first-century social relationships and identity. He draws on personal experience while approaching current tensions analytically.

Disorientation is underscored by the Black Lives Matter protests of this past summer, which compelled Williams to “put aside what [his] pet project was at the time to focus on something that is actually timely and urgent.”

Williams shared the message behind the title of his book: “This project is called Disorientation because the key idea is that, [as] Black folks, we go about living our lives every day, and then, suddenly, something just bonks us over the head.” At the heart of this collection is the issue that “We’re constantly disoriented by race.”

At first, the framework for this book was not obvious. “On one hand, I want to represent [the] Black experience accurately and fairly and well, which might involve saying really painful things about another group, white folks. And the other side of that is that the reality is that some white folks have been very good to me.”

In his book, Williams resolves this tension by differentiating between “whiteness as an institution” and “white people” to illustrate that “we need to separate people from the mechanisms that give some folks power.”

Williams’ pedagogy Although this is his first semester at the university as an instructor, Williams knows U of T quite well. He began his undergraduate degree at the university as a science student but quickly found his way into the psychology department.

Now, as an associate professor teaching creative writing, Williams is crafting courses he wishes

Author, alum, and instructor: Ian Williams speaks with The Varsity.

COURTESY OF JUSTIN MORRIS

he could have enrolled in as a student himself.

“We’re building programming in the English department about what creative writing could look like across [the] St. George campus. I and some other professors will be involved in that process.”

With this initiative, Williams is looking to “situate creative writing in our present moment and make it attractive and lucrative and still important.”

Williams is not just here to train future authors — he also hopes to help students balance their analytical and creative abilities through education.

He believes that everyone can derive value from setting time aside for routine creative expression.

When it comes to education, Williams said, “The analytical tends to dominate and so the other muscles — the creative muscles — atrophy over time.

We want to get those muscles developed again.”

Although we have no shortage of talented and inspiring professors here at U of T, Williams’ contributions to both our university and Canadian literature should make every student proud.

While Williams waits out the Toronto stay-athome order, he is reading for both research and pleasure. Some of his current favourite authors include Souvankham Thammavongsa, Kaie Kellough, Zadie Smith, and Claudia Rankine.

vrsty.ca/arts

MARCH 1, 2021

Black spotlights, Zoom cameras, and joy in action Why going to Black events makes me smile so brightly

Black excellence should be celebrated year-round.

ASIF AISHA IBRAHIM/THEVARSITY

Imani King Varsity Contributor

Black History Month celebrations come in various different forms, but they share many commonalities — unity, joy, and a sense of belonging. In classes where I am the only Black person, or one of few, I have to keep reminding myself that there are Black students all over campus. Connecting to my culture in a school setting has also been a challenge, even though I was born and raised in Toronto.

Now, in the era of ‘Zoom university,’ fostering that same connection with Black peers requires extra effort from all parties involved. After the events of the past year, Black History Month events are more important than ever. Support and collaborations between organizations were needed to a greater extent than usual in order to bring Black joy into the online setting.

Events held by Black clubs and academic departments at universities are of dire importance.

Not only are they important for representation, but they also simultaneously create a platform to raise other Black voices. Furthermore, the collaborations between these organizations, such as the ‘speed friending’ night two clubs hosted, allow more students to find each other. This helps make us feel less alone, especially at such a large institution like the University of Toronto — we get to bring joy to each other.

These platforms allow for so many opportunities: students are able to express themselves and dive into their culture within their academic environment; faculty members are able to tell their stories, as well as simply get together to celebrate the diversity of those who look like them. These opportunities can come from a mention of a Black artist on an Instagram story, watching a

movie with an all-Black cast, or holding a studyand-jam session.

Whenever I filled in Google Forms, tapped ‘interested’ on Facebook events, or logged into Zoom, I found that I was jumping from excitement. Yes, I am an extrovert who is craving social interaction, but the fact that it was with other Black students made me even more excited. Before the events, I had to prepare to ensure that all of my enthusiasm would not pour through my camera and that I wasn’t talking so much that I would cut someone off.

Needless to say, my preparation was for nothing, as my family heard my cackles from all angles of our home. But thinking back to it, these events were meant to excite me. This feeling of joy — Black joy — is what was supposed to happen.

Black History Month inspires me to take a

“An exploration and methodology of liberation”: Afrofuturism anticipates a daring future Hart House event discusses the impact of technology on Black expression

Joel Ndgomi Arts & Culture Columnist

As part of its Black Futures series, Hart House hosted an event on February 11 — “The Worldbuilding of Wakanda” — centred around the movie Black Panther. Speakers focused on the film’s unique relationship to ‘Afrofuturism,’ a term coined in the 1990s that refers to a cultural movement that imagines — and reimagines — the relationship between African culture and future technology.

To facilitate dialogue, three prominent Black writers were present: writer and video editor Antoine Bandele, Afrofuturist writer Stephanie Chrismon, and Rashid Mohiddin, the editor-inchief of Pressed Magazine.

Black Panther was released in January 2018 and broke all sorts of box office records. The movie features the late Chadwick Boseman as T’Challa, a prince who comes home to Wakanda — a fictional country in East Africa — to inherit his royal throne.

Featuring Black actors and an African narrative, the movie ignited the imaginations of Black diasporas across the world. It remains relevant three years later, having amplified Black voices and provided much needed representation.

At its core, Black Panther is an Afrofuturist movie. According to Denenge Duyst-Akpem, a prominent Black artist, Afrofuturism is “an exploration and methodology of liberation, simultaneously both a location and a journey.”

Afrofuturism can push the imagination to an African continent untouched by the modern disasters of colonization and imperialism — issues that took a front row seat during the discussion of the worldbuilding of Wakanda.

According to Bandele, Black Panther is special because it is unapologetically African and untouched by colonization. It is essentially a pan-Africanist movie, utilizing a range of au-

thentic African clothing, accents, and styles.

Mohiddin echoed that this is only the first step; it opens up the world for more authentic African possibilities in films, entertainment, and beyond.

The speakers emphasized how the leaders of the Wakandan state are keen on preserving the natural order of Wakanda — including closing their borders.

This movie broke through rampant stereotypes about Africa, including ideas of Africans living in huts. Instead, it offered a powerful portrayal of Africans thriving in Africa.

According to the speakers, Wakanda’s worldbuilding also had implications for Black diasporas across the world.

For Chrismon, this meant imagining what her own personal Wakanda would look like. As a Black American who has never lived in Africa, she couldn’t imagine one there. However, she suggested that it would look like the Harlem Renaissance or perhaps Tulsa, Oklahoma — had it remained unburned.

Blackness goes beyond geographical borders thanks to modern day technology. Chrismon explained, “We have this really technologically advanced system to have

this conversation with one another about stuff that we find interesting [and] that we find

MIA CARNEVALE/THEVARSITY

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deeper look into history. Informative events, such as talks on microaggressions and racism on campus, are crucial for me to attend. But sometimes, I feel as though I need a breather. My Blackness is something that requires balance — I need to face the hard truths, but I need to celebrate it all at the same time.

I have met a lot of interesting people this month through these events, and with them now popping up on my Instagram timeline, I get a little bit of that spark back. Though February is a short month, these connections will help me continue exploring the themes of Black History Month for the rest of the year.

Throughout February, Black voices are uplifted through these celebrations — especially those of Black creators. As a spoken word artist, I have been involved with Black History Month initiatives time and time again. This year, I am involved with the Consulate General of Canada in Los Angeles where I was one of seven Black Canadian poets being featured throughout the month on their Instagram page. Being involved in this initiative allowed me to take part in my Blackness in my poetry and love it instead of viewing it as an inconvenience.

It has also allowed me to have confidence in my art and continue to pursue it. Support for Black History Month events means more than just acknowledging the wrongful past and erasure of peoples and their histories. It means that Black people can take part in loving their identity and sharing that love with those around them.

Black events are taking place year-round.

Black joy exists at all times. Continuously discovering that joy is a goal that I encourage Black students to partake in alongside me.

Whether or not that Zoom call is connected to the month of February, take part in it and enjoy yourself. You are worth celebrating. funny — that impacts who we are as a people.”

In a curious way, Afrofuturism is already in motion. Technology has made the discussion around Afrofuturism increasingly relevant, especially in Black communications. Recently, with the help of technology, Black folks and allies have been able to mobilize supporters for the Black Lives Matter movement, while also organizing protests in the fight against racism.

Chrismon highlighted Twitter and its resulting connections across the Black diaspora. Millions of Black people across the world are connected, able to discuss issues pertaining to them, and can even share relevant memes.

In addition, a lot of African cultures are based on oral histories. Chrismon mentioned that, through short videos on social media, oral traditions are kept alive and propagated like never before. Beyond movies, artistic expression through poetry, painting, and music can also be used to share stories.

In many ways, these are Afrofuturist actions. Avenues like social media provide platforms for Black folks to connect and dream loudly, beyond the confines of past histories.

Mohiddin tactfully commented that as Afrofuturist authors, historians, and researchers are “telling stories the way [they] want to tell them, which is really powerful.” Movies like Black Panther inspire Black authors to continue to push forward in their endeavours in storytelling.

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THE VARSITY

ARTS & CULTURE

arts@thevarsity.ca

My name ain’t strange fruit Destiny Mae Ramos-Alleyne Varsity Contributor

ANANYA ANANTH/THEVARSITY

Canada’s Black history is not the US’ Black history — and nor is it just for Black people Our education system glosses over Black accomplishments, barriers

Kelly-Anne Johnson Varsity Contributor

Black Canadian author Lawrence Hill once wrote, “Have we read our own authors such as Dionne Brand, Afua Cooper and George Elliott Clarke? Do we know that the story of African Canadians spans 400 years, and includes slavery, abolition, pioneering, urban growth, segregation, the civil rights movement and a long engagement in civic life?”

For most of my educational experience in Canada, Black history has largely been a lesson in US history. For the one month that Black history was covered in my elementary and high school classrooms each year, it would often revolve around slavery in the US, Jim Crow segregation laws, and figures such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks.

Although the discussion would sometimes shift to contemporary debates about police brutality and racial stereotypes, these subjects were almost always grounded within the US context.

What little I did learn about Canada’s Black history was framed around myths of Canada’s benevolence and tolerance.

Through discussions of the Underground Railroad and the freedom provided to Black Loyalists who fought alongside the British during the American Revolutionary War of 1775–1783 and the War of 1812, Canada was depicted as a ‘safe haven’ for enslaved and free Black people escaping the racial terrors of the US. What was excluded from this benevolent narrative, however, was Canada’s racist past.

From slavery and racial segregation, to discriminatory immigration laws that prevented Black settlement and the general acceptance of the Ku Klux Klan in the twentieth century, Canada’s early relations with its Black settlers were not as friendly as they were made out to be.

From as early as the sixteenth century to the early nineteenth century, Black and Indigenous people were enslaved in New France and British North America. Although slavery was not as widespread in pre-Confederation Canada as it was in the US, nor was it as crucial to the functioning of Canada’s economy, enslaved persons were still subjected to violence and degrading treatment by their owners. Many enslaved Black people fled to the free territories in the northern US to escape the harsh realities of enslaved life in Canada.

Following the formal abolition of slavery in 1834, Black people continued to be treated as second-class citizens in Canadian society. In addition to their social and economic marginalization, Black people were subjected to legal and in-

formal segregation in education, housing, health care, employment, and the military to name a few sectors. Black people were also barred from various public facilities across the country.

For example, in Dresden, Ontario, Black residents were prohibited from eating at restaurants, frequenting the vast majority of pool halls, and getting their hair cut or styled at barbershops and the one beauty salon in the city.

In 1949, Dresden residents even “voted [in a municipal referendum] by a margin of five to one against a proposed bylaw” that would ban racial and religious discrimination in restaurants in the community.

It was not until this year, my final year as an undergraduate student, that I was able to learn most of the information above. With the help of U of T courses on Black Canadian studies and Canadian immigration, ethnicity, and crime, I have been able to gain a better understanding of Canada’s hidden history of systemic racism and anti-Blackness.

However, Canada’s Black history is not just negative. Indeed, the contributions of Black changemakers to Canadian society such as the Honourable Jean Augustine and the late Harry Gairey Sr. give cause for celebration. Their actions, along with the efforts of countless other Black activists, have paved the way for future generations of Black Canadians to be recognized and accepted as full citizens.

Gairey Sr. took his fight against racial discrimination to Toronto’s City Council in 1945 after learning that his son was denied entry to a Toronto skating rink because he was Black. His actions influenced the passage of an anti-discrimination bylaw in 1947 that prohibited discrimination against racialized people wanting to use the recreational or amusement facilities in Toronto.

Augustine, who became the first Black woman to be elected to the Parliament of Canada in 1993, is responsible for the official recognition of February as Black History Month by the Canadian government. She continues to devote herself to social justice advocacy and racial equity in education.

As I reflect on my educational experience in Canada, it baffles me that I was unaware of the Black historical presence in this country until recently.

Canada’s Black history is not the US’ Black history.

Nor is Canada’s Black history just for Black people.

As Augustine herself remarked, “Black history is Canadian history,” and it is time that the negative and positive aspects of this history are recognized at all educational levels.

This poem links slavery, the prison-industrial complex, police brutality, and anti-Blackness, from resistance to the Black Lives Matter movement to lynchings. The imagery I provide depicts this cycle of historical anti-Blackness, anti-Black violence and exploitation, prison-slave labour, and government programs like f inancial aid.

In depicting this cycle, I discuss the anger and feeling of entrapment when being silenced while speaking out in defence of Black life, of witnessing the cycle of anti-Blackness in motion, and the refusal to succumb to it.

I narrate this poem in the f irst person, emphasizing the importance of the body carrying ancestry, memory, Black history, futurity, and community. First-person narrative provides an opportunity for an ethical and non-extractive reading of my piece, meaning that the audience has the means to position themselves within the context of the physical, mental, and historical impact of anti-Blackness.

As such, this poem’s narrative undoubtedly reflects my existence as a Black person, but also encompasses many other Black folks’ experiences and existences.

White men in hoods are the only thing that encompass Me, in my melanin in shackles I can’t break off Rusting metal shackles infecting my skin For 400 years Four hundred years, and these rusting metal shackles Embedded in my skin A part of me; shit, they gon be passed on To my next of kin Wrap it up tight in a nice little bow But oh no No child of mine will ever know what it feels like To have the same white boot on the Back of my neck The same white boot that forces me to live on Welfare checks Four hundred years later and I’m rocking white nooses Instead of gold chains

Content warning: this poem utilizes the n-word, includes graphic descriptions of violence.

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

Ends up being what you feed on Cornrows and shackled feet Walking whistling cool rhythms and blues The same tunes you bump your blonde Locks to Cornrows and shackled feet shuffling down Cold corridors All so the white man sporting a toupée Can bask in his economic gain Mama My pain all goes to capitalistic gain So you’re telling me that the orange monster is gonna Extort my labour for the stupid swamp rain You’re telling me that that oompa loompa looking, executive order writing, grab em by the…

Wait. Let me refrain

When I look outside my window I don’t get no peace of mind Shit, when I look outside my window The only thing I can find Are those that vowed to protect and serve Are only here to threat and strike a nerve Cries on the street begging not to kill Apprehensive responses remind me That this society is ill

I’m bloodthirsty for justice Waterboarded by corruption and destruction

Lying in my daddy’s bloodstains House nigga, so I gotta wring out Twelve’s uniform With centuries-old Black blood down the Drain And my speech, My speech Try one more time to censor this blackbird’s

Pretty little melody and watch As this blackbird incessantly sings the tunes that Make your white ears bleed

Watch as this strange fruit becomes free From the branches that suck the air out My lungs This Black body will not be hung On the poplar tree This Black body will not be your feed Strange fruit ain’t about to be hung on The poplar tree This Black body will not be your feed Strange fruit ain’t about to be hung on FIONA TUNG/THEVARSITY The poplar tree

vrsty.ca/arts

MARCH 1, 2021

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Instant connection: my theory about Black friendship

An international student, BGSA exec on the comfort of finding Black peers at U of T Ibrahim Shodeko Varsity Contributor

Making friends can take time. There is an expected ritual in the process: small talk, more small talk, exchanging of socials, meeting up for coffee, dinner, and hanging out at each other’s places.

When you are an international student and you don’t know anyone, that can mean repeating this process over a long period of time. This can be extremely challenging and difficult, but if you are Black and you meet another Black person, you can skip a lot of steps and go straight to the point where you have a common understanding with this person.

I have come up with a theory that two Black people cannot be in the same space with other people and not find a way to get to know each other, support each other, and possibly become friends. My experience meeting some of my Black friends — and the support I have received from the Black community — confirms this.

I didn’t know anyone when I came to Canada as an international student. I performed the expected friendship ritual with people I met, but there was a marked difference when I met other Black people.

I met Ayomide outside one of my classes.

He walked straight up to me and asked, “Are you taking this class?” We sat together for the lecture and went back to his place at Knox College to continue hanging out. I was so happy on my way home. I had made a new friend.

During our second class, we met Simba.

He waved and walked up to us, and sat at our table in the next class. I assumed he was Ayomide’s friend. When I went back to Ayomide’s place to hang out, he asked where I had met Simba. I was surprised: “I thought he was your friend,” I said. Simba had skipped a lot of steps

Black friendships are an invaluable resource for students looking for community.

THOUGHT CATALOG/UNSPLASH

when meeting new people, so the assumption that he was friends with either Ayomide or me was not baseless.

This experience just shows the ease with which Black friendships are formed when Black people encounter one another in the same space.

The same happened to me in another class. I

met Keleena there when he asked for my stapler.

During the break, a conversation ensued that would also lead to a deep friendship. The theory still holds during the pandemic as I met Ayo online. We were both on the planning committee for a new student society. When the delegation of tasks started, I opted to work with Ayo, and

Where can you go to see Black and African art in Toronto?

resilience and traditions of Black communities.

Screening of the film will be made available to those who RSVP on their website.

Aga Khan Museum Location: 77 Wynford Drive Take a tour of the Caravans of Gold, Fragments in Time: Art, Culture and Exchange Across Medieval Saharan Africa exhibit on the Aga Khan Museum website. It is a journey through the 250 works, many of which are being shown in North America for the first time. The collaboration between the realm of archaeology and art creates a display of what there once was. This exploration will demonstrate how African empires connected the medieval world.

As Black History Month ends, explore a spectrum of expression at these five locations

Toronto is teeming with Black creativity; you just have to know where to look.

RYAN CHOW/THEVARSITY

Fatima Jamil Varsity Contributor

Art is a gateway into another perspective and experience. It is a universal manner of human connection. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many of these connections have been lost. However, exploring art may be a joyous way to revive them.

Though Black History Month is coming to an end, engaging with Black creatives should be done all year round. Consider attending these exhibits, which can act as both a gateway into African and Black culture and a remedy for pandemic disconnect. Though some may not be accessible due to the current lockdown, they are worth visiting once restrictions are lifted.

The Art Gallery of Ontario Location: 317 Dundas Street West The Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) has curated a collection of African art from a region south of the Sahara Desert in Africa. Through several

decades of collecting, Murray Frum built this collection of 95 works from a variety of tribes. The collection is an ensemble of various sculptures, structures, and masks that show the different interpretations of the human form through themes of birth, survival, death, and regeneration.

Although the gallery is currently closed due to COVID-19, you can visit the AGO’s website to view select pieces.

Certain pieces explore the ideas of power, leadership, and communication with the spirit world. Notable works include the “Mother and Child Bowl” of the Yoruba people, the “Male Mask” of the Lwalu people, and the “Throne” of the Bamum people.

The gallery is also showing the Dawoud Bey, John Edmonds, Wardell Milan exhibition until April 18. These three generations of contemporary African American artists use photography as a medium to depict the Black American experience and representation. Some notable works include “Untitled #20 (Farmhouse & Picket Fence

we became friends. The work calls soon became friendship calls. I met her for the first time when we went to the park together with Keleena.

Graduate school can be hard, and I get scared that I might not do well, but my friends motivate and support me. For example, Simba would tell me to keep pushing myself, which would motivate me to try harder in courses I thought I should drop, knowing that I will do well eventually.

Sharing networks is another benefit I have received from my friends. It is very useful if you are looking for information, something fun to do, or a study partner. Ayomide introduced me to his friend who was also taking a difficult course in which I didn’t know anyone. We studied together, and the course became too easy. Sometimes, that is the difference between a hard and an easy course: knowing another person who is taking that course.

At the start of the fall semester there was a large club fair for Black students that I attended online. There, I met Christina, whose friendly disposition toward me during an online game made me join the executive team for the Black Graduate Students Association (BGSA) as its events coordinator. By joining BGSA events, I grew my network as I got to know more Black graduates from different degrees.

There is a comfort in seeing another Black person in a shared space. They are natural allies that come from being minoritized. They will also go out of their way to help if you have a problem, as they have most likely been in the same situation. The online calls I have with my Black friends have kept me sane during this lockdown.

This is not to say I did not make friends with people from other races — it’s to highlight the support and friendship I have received from other Black people for which I am truly grateful as an international student in a new country.

II),” “Untitled (Du-Rag 3),” and “Michael Ross.”

The Black Artists’ Networks in Dialogue Gallery Location: 19 Brock Avenue Joints + Junctions: PRESENTing Hogan’s Alley at the Black Artists’ Networks is screening a noteworthy film in Dialogue Gallery until March 29. Artists Cornelia Wyngaarden and Andrea Fatona shed light on the previously unrecorded history of Hogan’s Alley by exploring the formation and growth of Vancouver’s first concentrated Black community.

Hogan’s Alley was an area in Vancouver’s Strathcona neighbourhood and home to the city’s Black community. The neighbourhood, formed in the early 1900s, housed restaurants, a chapel, and quarters for the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, a Black labour union. In the 1970s, construction of viaducts, as well as efforts by the city to prevent residents from obtaining mortgages, displaced the population.

This photographic series presents a story of

African Drums & Art Crafts Location: 618 Dundas Street West For a fun and interactive art experience, look no further than African Drums & Art Crafts. This creativity hub cultivates a welcoming environment to learn about African culture by diving into visual arts like carvings, masks, jewellery, greeting cards, and more. In addition to drumming workshops, the shop features African dance lessons, performances, and educational experiences. This can be enjoyed as a fun group activity and an opportunity to learn new skills.

The Royal Ontario Museum Location: 100 Queen’s Park As COVID-19 has resulted in many closures, the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM) features various online interactive activities. A notable activity includes the ROM Collections Map, which explores various artifacts and artistic pieces by region. Each piece has an accompanying description exploring its relevance and facts. The ROM also features an exhibit called Galleries of Africa: Nubia.

This exhibit highlights the artistic achievements of the period through archaeological discoveries of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization site of Meroe and the lost civilization of ancient Nubia.

Photo

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/photo photo@thevarsity.ca

Five Black U of T students reflect on Black History Month On honouring the past, celebrating excellence, and continuing the struggle Channy Lee Varsity Contributor

DajahRai Green A Guyanese-Jamaican student in the Faculty of Arts and Science (FAS), DajahRai Green is known as @dajahraiii on TikTok, and she places emphasis on Black history in our education system. “So many of our black history teaching from elementary to highschool focuses on a handful of the same black activists and a brief glimpse of what slavery was,” Green wrote in an email to The Varsity.

“Black History Month is about more than past injustices that repeat themselves today; it’s also about the way black people are currently changing the world… so the future generation can have a better history that is not centered around racialized trauma.”

Danielle Clayton Following the same theme of education, Jamaican-St. Vincentian student Danielle Clayton refers to her personal experiences of Black History Month (BHM) prior to university. “When I was younger I didn’t really understand black history month because all we talked about was slavery… and a small common group of black people who did great things but it was always the same people talked about every year,” Clayton wrote in an email to The Varsity. “When I got to look at the differences in cultures and stories and experiences within the black community, I realized how beautiful we are.”

The notion ‘Black struggle’ is often mentioned when speaking about the Black community. Although it is important to recognize the intergenerational impact of colonialism, this narrative may conceal the achievements of Black people and their successes. Reflecting this, Clayton wrote, “I see black history month as a way to showcase [the Black community’s] greatness… and to come together in cases that are not solely based on tragedy and struggle. Don’t get me wrong, this struggle is still very prominent and does exist and is something that needs to be dealt with so black history month does provide a platform to showcase this but thatʼs not all it is.

Thatʼs not all we are.”

Dania Asahi Ogie A FAS student of Japanese-Nigerian descent, Dania Asahi Ogie wrote to The Varsity in regard to celebrating this month: “Black history month is about recognizing the challenges that black people have faced, and still face today. It's about honouring the challenges that they’ve overcome… Black history month is a time to celebrate the rich history of the African diaspora.”

Zimman Yousuf A Somali Rotman Commerce student in her second year, Zimman Yousuf highlights her presence as a Black student on campus, writing in an email to The Varsity, “I think coming to U of T was a great decision. To be surrounded by Black excellence has been motivating and uplifting and makes you want to do better as a person. Seeing student organizations such as Black Rotman Commerce go on to host the Black Career Conference goes to show you how much talent the community has.”

Andrea Peel In an email to The Varsity, Andrea Peel, a senior undergraduate student from Zimbabwe, quoted one of her favourite poems by Marianne Williamson titled “Our Deepest Fear”: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”

For Peel, the month of February should not be the only time when Black people deserve respect — rather, they should be treated with respect all year. “During BHM, we are encouraged to consider the impacts of Black people in North America and across the globe. I reckon that this is something that should take place every day. The media and modern day systems around us constantly tell black people ‘who are you to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ But I say, ‘who am I or rather who are WE not to be?”

Ethnic diversity in any environment is important, especially in academia. In a classroom where students of different backgrounds are able to share each of their unique experiences, we as students are offered the chance to view the world from different perspectives.

At the University of Toronto, the presence of Black students goes far beyond just being a minoritized group. “My attendance at UofT is more than just another diversity statistic. My attendance at UofT is proof of black excellence. Proof that black [people] can and continue to succeed in the country’s leading post-secondary institution,” Peel wrote. “Black people are intelligent and innovative and have Boundless in their potential.”

The role of non-Black students Moving forward, what can we do as non-Black students to celebrate Black excellence? Green suggested, “The best things non-black students can do to celebrate Black History Month is to support black business and communities local to them… stay educated on racial injustices even when the hashtag isn’t trending.” Peel recommended, “Continue to stand in [solidarity] with Black people. Put aside performative activism and genuinely educate yourself. Be the change that we are fighting so [sic] see.”

BHM is not just 28 days of recognition. The personal stories and opinions of these featured individuals indicate common themes of education, solidarity, and why representation of Black success in mainstream media is important. BHM is not simply about recognizing history — it’s about working toward making history.

Science

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/science science@thevarsity.ca

A lasting stigma: tracing the history of the AIDS crisis Dismantling decades-long homophobic myths as discrimination persists today

The virus can affect anyone regardless of gender or sexual orientation, but its sexually-transmitted nature leaves men who orientation, have sex withbut men vulnerable to infection..

The virus can affect anyone regardless of gender or sexual its more sexually-transmitted nature leaves men who have sex with men more vulnerable to infection.

CAROLINE BELLAMY/THEVARSITY

Alex Levesque Comment Columnist

On November 17, 2019, a 55-year old individual in China became the first case of the now global disease, COVID-19. Fast forward to the present day and there are currently over 2.5 million deaths worldwide at the hands of this pandemic, according to data from John Hopkins University.

In a world of advanced technology and living conditions, mass death seems like a medieval or outdated narrative. In this sense, the COVID-19 virus came as a shock. However, while today’s generation may view this pandemic as unprecedented, older generations can remember another viral disease: AIDS. Just 38 years prior to the world’s first COVID-19 case, five men in the US were found to have a rare lung infection. By the end of the year, there were 335 cases of ‘acquired immune deficiency syndrome’ from what we now know as the ‘human immunodeficiency virus.’

The HIV virus primarily spreads through bodily fluids, which is why the most common causes of transmission are unprotected sex and the sharing of intravenous needles contaminated with another person’s blood. AIDS is the disease caused by the HIV virus. In time, it cripples the body’s immune system, exposing its victims to other infections and even some types of cancer.

In the decades since its emergence, HIV-AIDS has become one of the world’s largest public health crises. Millions of people continue to live with the disease.

Although the virus can infect anyone regardless of gender or sexual orientation, men who have sex with men (MSM) are particularly vulnerable because anal intercourse is one of the easiest ways the virus can spread. At the same time, a lack of access to health care for MSM can make it harder to detect, and ultimately stop, infections. As a result, MSM still make up a high percentage of HIV cases.

The United States’ Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimated that they made up 69 per cent of new HIV diagnoses in the United States in 2018. The Canadian figures are similar: the HIV advocacy organization Community AIDS Treatment Information Exchange (CATIE) used federal data to find that MSM accounted for just over half of all HIV-positive Canadians in 2018.

Despite the severity of AIDS symptoms, the tremendous success in drug development has helped HIV-positive people live longer, healthier lives — and yet stigma around the disease remains.

The comparison between COVID-19 and AIDS — and its limits In a lot of ways, the AIDS epidemic and COVID-19 are very similar. After all, in the 1960s, AIDS spread from Africa, to Haiti, to the Caribbean, to New York, and then to San Francisco. This pattern of fast-moving global transmission is all too familiar today.

A smaller point of comparison is each virus’ effects on businesses. AIDS caused the shutdown of establishments marketed toward gay people such as clubs and bathhouses, and COVID-19 continues to close numerous small and non-essential businesses.

While the two share a similar profile in how they affected the global population, the AIDS crisis not only left death in its wake, but also a shocking portrait of a world ready to blame MSM for a disease to which they were disproportionately vulnerable.

A recent New York Times article comparing the homophobia that fueled the AIDS pandemic with stigma against those who flout public health restrictions during COVID-19 was heavily criticized on social media. The comparison was seen as downplaying the discrimination AIDS victims faced, as well as making light of risky behaviour that could endanger others during the COVID-19 pandemic. One Twitter user called the comparison “insanely offensive.”

COVID-19 has resulted in an unprecedented increase in anti-Asian hate crimes — in Vancouver, that figure went up by 717 per cent — but AIDS was stigmatized early on in a way that COVID-19 has not, since public health officials claimed that AIDS only affected MSM. A key difference between the two viruses is that COVID-19 is transmitted more easily, as it does not rely on the exchange of bodily fluids like the HIV virus. Tracing the fear behind AIDS, a virus that is much easier to regulate than COVID-19, reveals a chilling story of discrimination.

Where did the stigma of AIDS start?

In 1982, health officials named the disease ‘GRID’ — gay-related immune defficiency — on the basis

that it appeared to infect only MSM. As a consequence of this assertion, society started to link its existing moral judgments about gay individuals to its perception of the virus itself. In fact, the discourse often orientated around HIV being a disease that gay people brought upon themselves as a result of ‘risky’ or ‘unnatural’ sexual behaviours.

This assumption was dispelled in 1983 when reports of women partners of HIV-positive men who contracted the virus started to come out of the woodwork. However, despite the overwhelming evidence that sexual orientation and AIDS transmission were not directly correlated, it was still called the “gay plague” years later.

Today, there are more than 68,000 HIV-positive people in Canada. Advancement in HIV treatment and prevention has significantly improved, expanding an HIV-positive person’s life span from an estimated 39 years in 1996 to 70 years in 2011.

In addition to improved research about the virus, support for HIV-positive individuals has also increased. In 1989, a man named Giles Fontaine was fired from his job aboard a Canadian Pacific train after his managers learned of his HIV status.

In response to his wrongful termination, Fontaine launched a Canadian Human Rights Tribunal that ended with the company being found guilty. This landmark case settled the right of HIV-positive people in Canada to be accommodated by their employer, as is the case with other health conditions and disabilities.

A lingering stigma: employment discrimination Despite improved knowledge about the virus, however, institutions continue to discriminate against HIV-positive people.

A recent study led by researchers at the University of Toronto revealed that employers would often find subtle methods to fire their HIVpositive employees. One participant in the study noted that, as a consequence of people being fired after employers found out their health status, they would “[see] people going back into the workforce and then going right back on the social assistance.”

Additionally, HIV-positive individuals often quit their jobs as opposed to taking time off for their health through the Employment Insurance sickness benefit. According to the researchers, this behaviour was motivated by a concern that

applying for the benefit would disclose their health status to an employer.

Melissa Perri, a master’s student at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health and lead author of the study, wrote in an email to The Varsity, “Despite advocacy, research, and program planning over the years, we can still see negative perceptions and connotations surrounding HIV.” One such perception is a misunderstanding of how AIDS is transmitted in the first place. A 2011 research study illustrated that an employer’s decision to interview someone with AIDS is contingent on their fear of contagion. Not only is this a gross misunderstanding of the virus’ mechanics — it is primarily a sexually transmitted, not airborne, virus — but, through their fear, employers reinforce the same moral judgments that were present in the 1980s.

Furthermore, even after securing an interview, many HIV-positive people would still be wary to accept a job for fear of co-worker discrimination or facing hate crimes — both situations that can severely damage an individual’s mental health.

All these factors contribute to unemployment among HIV-positive people, which varies between 45 and 65 per cent, according to studies from Canada, the United States, and France.

However, employment discrimination is not the only type of discrimination HIV-positive people face. HIV stigma is a systemic issue with wide impacts beyond the job sector. As Perri described it, “Perceptions surrounding, HIV have been engrained within our systems and institutions.”

For example, up until 2016, MSM could only donate blood in Canada if they remained celibate for five years. Even after the celibacy period was shortened to one year in 2016, and later to three months in 2019, researchers and members of the LGBTQ+ community have continued to describe the policy as discriminatory and outdated.

The surviving stigma of AIDS, almost 40 years after the virus’ emergence, highlights a lasting vulnerability that HIV-positive people feel, particularly in their employment. In their article, Perri and her team called for more proactive action from employers to reduce stigma. Perri clarified in her email that change should “include increased awareness to HIV related needs & care which ultimately should be led by [people living with HIV].”

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science@thevarsity.ca

Lonely in U of T STE representati

A Temerty medicine res — and calls to ac

Zaky Hassan Varsity Contributor

As Black History Month comes to a close, STEM faculties and departments across North America are making their annual effort to reach out to their Black students and staff for the first time all year, soliciting quotes, headshots, and creative work for display on official social media platforms and websites.

Sadly, these displays we see every February on our Instagram and Twitter feeds portray an extremely false sense of diversity and representation in our faculties, and the reality is much grimmer than you might expect.

I have been involved in U of T’s medicine research community as a trainee for the better part of three years now at the undergraduate and graduate level, mostly in the Department of Biochemistry.

I have had the opportunity to work in three labs and interact with folks from many major research institutes in Toronto, and my experiences have confirmed what we are so often told — increasing representation in STEM environments requires much more than a social media blitz once a year.

Undergraduates: where it all begins In order to explore the representation problem, we first have to look into the journey one needs to take in order to join the research community at the University of Toronto and the many barriers preventing folks from equitable access to a career as a scientist.

Often, the first step is finding research opportunities as an undergraduate student. This can take the form of a summer studentship, a research course, or a thesis project completed during the

school year. For example, you could compete for one of eight summer research scholarships given out by the Faculty of Medicine over the summer.

Students in these programs are expected to work full time for stipends that, when put into an hourly rate, are nearly half the provincially mandated minimum wage of $14.25 an hour.

Competitive research grants may help, but there are more students than grants, and the grants are not always enough in the first place. For example, the popular Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council’s Undergraduate Student Research Award only increases pay to slightly over 82 per cent of Ontario’s minimum wage.

Underpaying undergraduate students is often justified by the idea that an opportunity to do research is a privilege, and that students should be grateful if a lab is willing to take them in and spend its time training them.

I once brought up the issue of summer pay to an administrator, sharing my concern and disappointment at how meagre the stipends the university provided are relative to comparable institutions in the region. I was told that I should be passionate enough about the research to do the work for free, and that any stipend I receive should be viewed as an extra benefit — the main benefit being the research experience itself, of course.

Unfortunately for me and many others, however, summer employment is not something that is just done for ‘extra benefit’ or for résumé building. It is how we save up for tuition and help alleviate the financial burden at home. By forcing students who are interested in science to take a paycheck that’s less than the minimum wage for the honour of doing summer research, institutions like U of T are indirectly selecting against the marginalized and

underrepresented people it claims to care about.

Having participated in two summer studentships, I can say that the outcome of this recruitment strategy in summer cohorts seems to be a massive overrepresentation of students who can afford to go without pay — and that is neither inclusive nor equitable.

Graduate students: the problems continue The financial sacrifices required of trainee scientists only increase during graduate training. After your grades and underpaid research experiences as an undergraduate student have been carefully vetted, you may get the honour of continuing your scientific journey at the graduate level. Now, before you sign on the dotted line, make sure you are prepared to be underpaid yet again.

Science departments in the Temerty Faculty of Medicine pay graduate students roughly $20,000 to $22,000 a year in stipends. Prior to the institution of faculty-wide stipends for graduate students, some departments could’ve paid even less.

Perhaps the university does not treat being a full-time student as a job — but if you treat it like one, you can see how poorly paid it really is. If you do the math, graduate students are only being paid around $10.50 an hour, which is well below the provincial minimum wage. Grown adults living in the second most expensive city in the country are expected to pay rent, purchase food, and otherwise survive on what is less than the Ontario poverty line of roughly $26,000 while also working 40 or more hours a week.

In addition to one’s “living allowance,” tuition costs for the Temerty Faculty of Medicine are also paid to students in monthly installments, although they are due back by the end of the year. Charging

someone tuition and paying them money to cover that very same tuition is the oddest practice, one equal parts predatory and ridiculous.

It’s ridiculous because it would be so much simpler to just not charge students tuition in the first place. It’s predatory because it’s paid in monthly installments as if it were part of a wage, and at the same time, it is expected that students will save this money to pay it back as a lump sum at the end of the year. This creates the illusion of a living wage, while also annually adding undue stress to lowincome students when the money is due.

After reading all this you may be inclined to exclaim, “Oh, poor graduate students!” The ‘poor graduate student’ trope is a common one — ironic because it’s usually not remotely true. In order to afford being poor, many graduate students have to come from families with considerable means, and have layers upon layers of financial safety nets protecting them from having to worry about true financial burden or whether or not graduate school will ruin them.

Students who do not fall into this category are either accruing debt to afford the graduate student lifestyle — which is a modest one — working side jobs, or living at home with family. In my case, it’s all of the above. A low-income person cannot afford to be merely a graduate student scientist in Toronto.

This city is diverse, but is its university?

Data from the 2016 census shows that race, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status in Canada are closely correlated, with well-to-do folks being mostly nonracialized and less well-to-do folks being mostly racialized. It is unsurprising, then, that the structural barriers in STEM academia seem to be reflected

vrsty.ca/science

MARCH 1, 2021

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n the lab: EM’s Black ion problem

search trainee’s perspective ction for the faculty

MAKENA MWENDA/THEVARSITY

in the racial makeup of our laboratories — at least, according to my own experience.

It’s sad to say that, throughout my years working in U of T labs, I can genuinely count on my hands the number of Black graduate students, postdoctoral students, and faculty I have come across in the Termerty Faculty of Medicine. When talking to some friends, I found out that they’ve felt the same, each of them knowing only a couple in their own departments. Scanning the faculty page of my department, the Department of Biochemistry, I can find few racialized faculty members.

The numbers get even worse when you look at the big picture. The university’s 2019 Report on Employment Equity revealed that only 2.9 per cent of faculty and 6.7 per cent of staff identified as Black. Yet, according to the 2016 census, Black people make up nine per cent of the city’s population and 3.5 per cent of the nation. These numbers are extremely worrying and indicative of how little effort has been put in to make the university, including its science departments, inclusive and accessible.

Actions over words Now that we’ve dived into the affairs here at the Temerty Faculty of Medicine, let me share what it's like to be a trainee in an environment where almost no one looks like you.

The first feeling is a common one to many: impostor syndrome. But it’s not your regular impostor syndrome by any means; it has teeth. Feeling like you don’t belong or are less qualified than your peers is a sentiment that comes and goes based on your accomplishments of the day. However, seeing that you don’t belong — not by how you are treated, but by the absence of folks who

look like you — while feeling like you don’t belong is a more permanent and everlasting feeling.

This discourages Black students from pursuing careers as scientists. Impostor syndrome and a lack of access to mentors who share your life experience is a deadly combination. This has sprung up periodically for me in the past, but recently, I have been able to find a community of Black scientists on Twitter who have been able to fill the void created by the U of T research machine.

Since connecting with the Black scientific community on Twitter, my drive to pursue a research career has been revived. Many Black senior scientists and trainees have made and continue to make a tremendous effort mentoring the next generation of scientists. Some have created a Slack community for Black trainees to connect them with Black faculty and postdoctoral mentors worldwide.

Seeing tweets and posts about Black postdoctoral students getting tenure-track positions and starting labs has invigorated my dream to head my own lab one day and emboldened me to not give up. My positive experience meeting these folks has also let me know that the issue of underrepresentation is most certainly not something that I have to accept, and that the Temerty Faculty of Medicine and the broader campus can and must do better.

Another common sentiment, at least for me, is feeling unvalued by the institution as a whole. If the university truly wanted more Black students, postdoctoral students, and faculty, surely the faculty would have done something to fix the issue.

While the faculty loves to mention how they are striving for inclusivity, creating committees on equity issues left and right, I am reminded of

a quote US President Joe Biden attributes to his father: “Don’t tell me what you value. Show me your budget, and I’ll tell you what you value.”

The Temerty Faculty of Medicine, with its immense resources, should put more financial might behind solving the issue in a real way. From speaking to my friends and looking at universitywide statistics, it seems like there is a stark contrast between the values the university publicly shares and the lack of Black representation in its science departments. It seems like the talk of equity, diversity, and inclusion of Black scientists is just that — talk.

What can be done?

The first step is to admit that there is a problem.

By this, I do not mean admitting that Black scientists are underrepresented — we already know that. The real problem that departments and faculty members must admit to having is best captured in an article and admission from biologist Michael Eisen of the University of California, Berkeley. He wrote: “I like to think of myself as a progressive who has made a persistent effort to promote diversity in science. But of the 50 graduate students and postdocs I have trained, none are Black.

I have volunteered in diversity efforts at my university and elsewhere, I have sat on diversity panels, and I have reviewed diversity fellowships. But none of the many faculty search committees that I have served on made an offer to a Black candidate."

In my opinion, Eisen’s situation mirrors that of many faculty and staff here at U of T and in the broader scientific community. People may hold liberal ideals or claim to care about diversity and

inclusion, but their actions are divorced from their words, as evidenced by the lack of Black trainees in their labs and Black colleagues in their departments. This is an item directly within their control through their participation in hiring committees.

They could also simply accept Black students and postdoctoral students into their labs.

To use Eisen’s example, researchers need to make an effort to train Black students in their own labs. The problem is claiming to want to increase representation instead of hiring and training actual Black scientists and students.

The university creates committees, hosts equity workshops with questionable efficacy, and requires diversity statements from new hires. These are well-meaning practices, but they assume that the applicants themselves cannot serve as the solution.

The next step in promoting diversity is equally as important as the first, and that is to remove the unnecessary financial barriers associated with training to become a scientist. Some institutions across North America have started initiatives to address this issue, notably the Howard Hughes Medical Institute, which awards generous fellowships to underrepresented doctoral and postdoctoral trainees.

In the same vein, U of T’s Temerty Faculty of Medicine must come up with equitable solutions, including paying graduate students a livable stipend without requiring additional financial support from family and ensuring that summer undergraduate researchers are compensated well enough such that their pursuit does not require a financial sacrifice. This institution should use its tremendous resources to ensure its scientific training is open and accessible to all.

Sports

March 1, 2021 vrsty.ca/sports sports@thevarsity.ca

KPE faculty’s IDEAS Research Lab partners with OUA for anti-racism research

Assistant Professor Janelle Joseph explains project’s motivation, progress Laura Ashwood Sports Editor

U of T’s own Indigeneity, Diaspora, Equity, and Antiracism in Sport (IDEAS) Research Lab in the Faculty of Kinesiology & Physical Education has recently partnered with Ontario University Athletics (OUA) to examine racialized experiences in university sports.

“Having taught many student-athletes over my career, I have always wanted to partner with the Ontario University Athletics to document the challenges racialized athletes face,” wrote Janelle Joseph, an assistant professor as well as founder and director of Canada’s first research laboratory for examining issues of race and diaspora cultures, in an email to The Varsity.

“I knew it was time to start this project in the summer of 2020 when Black student-athletes coaches and sport administrators became even more vocal about their experiences and suggestions for antiracist change in the conference and more broadly professional athletes and teams were stepping up to raise anti-racism as an issue.”

The project came to be after the Black Canadian Coaches Association and the Black, Biracial, Indigenous Task Force of the OUA collected anecdotal

evidence about racism and anti-racist efforts within the association and nation, and “it was clear… that systematic research was necessary to document the demographics and the experiences of members,” wrote Joseph.

Joseph envisioned three outcomes: firstly, to find out how to make institutions like the OUA and the teams within it more representative spaces for racialized members. “If sport is not representative of the proportion of racialized people in the broader university or in the broader cities where these institutions are located, we need to do better,” explained Joseph.

Next, she wanted to understand the experiences of racism within the organization, writing that if there is not a complete understanding of how racism operates, “we cannot transform our cultures and spaces.”

Finally, Joseph added that the IDEAS Research Lab wants to learn what policies and educational ideas members have in order to help promote the most well-suited anti-racism policies for the OUA. She wrote that the lab is “committed to learning how to promote anti-racism in Ontario University Sport through education, training, policy change and implementation, and supports for student-athletes such as mental health and financial awards.”

Joseph is optimistic about the response to the proj-

Opinion: The importance of the BLM protests in the world of sports

FIONA TUNG/THEVARSITY

Athletes made their voices heard in 2020 and sparked important conversations worldwide Angad Deol Associate Sports Editor

I can remember where I was when I first heard about the postponement of the NBA playoff game between the Milwaukee Bucks and Orlando Mag-

ic in the wake of the Jacob Blake shooting in Wisconsin. I was working out and had the pre-game show playing on the television.

When the news broke that the Milwaukee Bucks decided not to play — due to their frustration with the ongoing racial injustice, not only in

How to be an ally on the basketball court

From a white athlete, to other white athletes Avishai Sol Varsity Staff

NICK IWANYSHYN/UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO

ect thus far, adding that the lab’s questionnaire already has a 30 per cent response rate. “I am pleasantly surprised by the broad range of OUA members from these groups that have reached out to us, who want to be part of the research, and who have pitted

themselves against other universities in a ‘research’ competition,” she wrote.

“The teams with the most questionnaires complete per capita will gain bragging rights. I can’t wait to see who wins.”

the months leading up to the NBA bubble but for decades prior — I wasn’t upset or disappointed. I was proud that renowned athletes were using their platforms for justice.

Many more playoff games were postponed after the Jacob Blake tragedy — in fact, the NBA season itself was almost cancelled. However, as I wrote for The Varsity back in September, “some things are bigger than sports.” It’s been almost six months since then, and my thoughts on 2020 as a historic year in sports have only grown stronger.

In the 2020 NFL season, players were able to put a social justice message on their helmet plates, similar to how NBA players were allowed to put social justice messages on the back of their jerseys.

Breonna Taylor — the woman who tragically lost her life at the hands of the police in March of 2020 — had her name immortalized on the attire of many athletes, with many vocally demanding justice for her death.

Naomi Osaka — a trailblazer in women’s tennis — was scorching competition on the court in 2020, notably winning the US Open that year.

More than that, she walked into each US Open match wearing a face mask with the names of Black victims of racial injustice: Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and George Floyd among others in a shockingly long list — a list that should not be that long. Osaka recognized her platform, and in her own words, “I’m aware that tennis is watched all over the world, and maybe there is someone

that doesn’t know Breonna Taylor’s story. Maybe, they’ll Google it or something.”

The Black Lives Matter protests in sports were successful in raising awareness because of the solidarity displayed by the teams. Most NBA players, 300 out of 350, opted to wear social justice messages on their jerseys. Athletes from all backgrounds and sports took to the streets and social media to protest for racial justice, recognizing how powerful their voices could be together.

“Athletes know that together they are stronger and that without their labour the leagues have no games to advertise and no income. Together athletes can leverage their power,” Janelle Joseph, an assistant professor in the Faculty of Kinesiology & Physical Education, said in a U of T News interview. “The initial response from a few players extended to a few teams, then a few leagues, as a result of the intersections of money and power in the anti-racism movement.”

I look back in pride at how sports flipped the world on its back in 2020. The importance of the Black Lives Matter movement cannot be understated. As a relatively light skinned individual, I recognize my immense privilege, especially in the world of athletics.

In the future, I hope social justice becomes a more integral part of the sporting world, and hopefully athletes and sports media figures alike can continue to fight for racial justice, building on the progress made in 2020.

people, you can’t just be passive when supporting social movements — you have to be an active representative of the change you wish to see.

You must hold yourself to a standard of decency, humility, and sportsmanship in these moments by playing it the right way, unselfishly, diligently, and well.

You leave the court giving and receiving respect from the people you just played with. And off the court — in the change rooms, on tournament buses, on the bench — you listen to your teammates when conversations turn to issues of race.

Teammates are like siblings; recognize that bond, empathize with them, and uplift them.

Within basketball, there will be differences in experience based on your race, but there is a golden opportunity when you’re on the floor to be judged by your game, not the colour of your skin, and I think that’s what we’re trying to recreate in the rest of the world. I believe it’s a variation of Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream for Black people to be judged on the “content of their character.”

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I have played basketball all my life — never for my school, but at a high enough level that I was able to compete against college-level players. I’m not a particularly gifted athlete, but I was able to get by on my passing and ball handling.

Of current NBA players, 80.7 per cent are racialized, and the game is ingrained in Black culture in a way few other sports are. So, for me, as a short, white, basketball player, I often ask myself: what does being white on a basketball court mean?

As a white basketball player, you are playing a culturally Black game. There is a beautiful opportunity

for equality in sports because your abilities should matter more than anything else. You could be the weirdest looking person on the floor, but if you’re good, your peers should respect you.

The NBA and basketball at large are becoming more and more direct in their attempts to create change for racialized people in the US. It’s important to recognize that the court doesn’t exist in a vacuum at any level of play, and being white in a Black space carries historical and political baggage. We should all speak out in favour of the continued pursuit of racial equality, but as an ally, your responsibilities are more nuanced than just passive support.

In other words, as a white basketball player, benefitting from a game played and perfected by Black

Janelle Joseph was recognized during the 2019 Awards of Excellence ceremony at U of T.

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vrsty.ca/sports

MARCH 1, 2021

Opinion: Bell Media cancels major sports radio stations — and community with it A response to the company’s recent cuts

Emmy Curtis Varsity Contributor

This month marks the end of three Canadian sports radio stations after Bell Media announced hundreds of layoffs and pulled The Sports Network (TSN) from the airwaves in Vancouver, Hamilton, and Winnipeg. With loyal listeners shocked by the announcement, we reflect on the impact sports media has on our communities.

Being from a small town just outside of Vancouver, I grew up listening to TSN 1040 AM with my dad. Driving to and from school or basketball practice, the sports radio was always on. My dad

and I would weigh in on the commentary as if we were a part of the broadcast, and from that point on, I knew that I wanted to get behind the microphone myself one day.

So when Bell Media decided to pull the sports format on February 9, I felt like I had lost a piece of my childhood.

For many people, consuming sports media is a part of their everyday routine.

We don’t always share the same opinion or cheer for the same team, but discussing sports remains a great Canadian pastime. Sports have a way of bringing people together.

Sports media has become more than a platform to recap the previous night’s game or to catch the latest update on the NHL standings; it is a network of diverse personalities across TV, radio, and podcasts. At TSN, these were local people who lived in our neighborhoods and represented our communities. They brought us together — not only as sports fans but as a community.

This past week, I had the chance to hear from Jeff Paterson, a

former broadcaster for TSN 1040 AM, to get his take on the importance of sports media in our communities. He wrote that good radio hosts are trusted by their listeners and make those listeners feel like a crucial element of the show.

He also shared the response he has received from fans, writing about how amazed he was that people reached out to him from around the world to say that they used his radio station to stay connected to their hometown. This is just one example of how impactful sports media can be in creating a sense of community.

As a fan, it’s upsetting to lose a piece of what brings you closer to others everyday, especially during the pandemic. Sports media will press on and will continue to bring communities together and update you on everything you need to know about the latest sports. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you do, sports will always bring us together.

Bell Media pulled The Sports Network, leaving listeners stunned.

SAMANTHA YAO/THEVARSITY

agreed that they missed the social and competitive aspects of squash. “[I miss] training with the team because there’s a whole aspect of bonding with each other that’s really nice. And also, the competitive aspect of squash is really important… without that, there’s no motivation to train,” Fan said.

Getting through lockdown The teams have been trying to stay connected through Zoom calls and by sharing their training programs with each other. On our Instagram page, the teams have been sharing videos of how we are staying fit, trying to engage each other in the team environment we all miss from pre-pandemic days.

Dhar spoke about the game she implemented at the beginning of the academic year, in which each member would come up with a home fitness challenge or workout, and the other members would complete the challenge. “I think it was fun to come up with different ideas on how to stay fit. And… I certainly still do some of those things,” Dhar said.

Squashed by the pandemic How my Varsity Blues teammates are dealing with COVID-19

The teams have been using Instagram to recreate a sense of community and engage with each other.

COURTESY OF VARSITY BLUES

Janhavi Agarwal Business & Labour Correspondent

The COVID-19 pandemic has affected many aspects of student life at U of T. One such aspect is Varsity sports. As the pandemic rages on, Ontario University Athletics has made the decision to cancel all winter championships, making the year of stricter training restrictions even more difficult for Varsity athletes.

As a member of the Varsity Blues women’s squash team myself, I’ve felt these difficulties firsthand. I decided to speak with the captains of both the men’s

and women’s Varsity Blues squash teams to find out how they are leading their teams with the COVID-19 guidelines.

Squash has been hit hard Squash is a racket sport played by two players on a four-walled court. It is not a game that can be played outdoors or a game in which physical distancing is possible. “Squash probably got hit the hardest because it’s a sport where you are just with one person and in very close quarters,” Rhea Dhar, captain of the women’s team and my colleague, told me.

Both Dhar and men’s team captain Jonathan Fan

Looking ahead to the ‘new normal’ Squash will have to adapt to fit in with the ‘new normal’ that we will enter once the pandemic is over.

“Team practices will have to be with fewer people.

Tournaments will just have to be fewer people at a time… a lot more training on your own. So things that are not necessarily vital to do as a team, you have to do on your own,” Dhar said.

“I think even after we get vaccines and everything, and this whole pandemic is over with, I think [we’ll] still [be] in the habit of being fearful of other people around us,” Fan added. “Right now, we have the habit of not shaking hands or, after matches, shaking hands with the player or the [referee]. So I think that’s going to be a habit for a while just because of fear.”

“There’s also going to be less people at… squash events, so that might be a negative because we’ve been trying to boost squash’s popularity as a sport for a while.”

All that being said, the two captains do look forward to being back on the courts with their teammates. Fan mentioned that he is excited to meet the new players and get back into a competitive mindset once again. Dhar is looking forward to coaching her teammates in the next in-person season.

“I’m definitely going to appreciate all the practices a lot. Never miss a practice,” said Dhar.

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Testing UTrain: Afro-fusion Cardio Dance Party Do the workouts really work?

Alex Waddell Varsity Staff

To celebrate Black History Month (BHM), the U of T virtual fitness studio invited us to take part in a special workout session to celebrate Black excellence, the Afro-fusion Cardio Dance Party, on February 26 at 5:00 pm.

I had done a session of Cardio Dance Party once before, and I was excited to try something new, especially a class in honour of BHM. One of the instructors asked who was new to Afro-beats, music, or Afro-fusion, and described it as being very high-energy with lots of waist and arm movements. Many of us were new to this type of dance and workout, so the instructors’ engaging, encouraging, open, and energetic natures were helpful.

Sylvia Glasser, the pioneer of Afro-fusion in South Africa, describes Afro-fusion as the “combination of African ritual, music, and dancing with Western forms of contemporary dance” as its basis. Afro-beats is also a fusion, combining James Brown’s funk, traditional West-African dance rhythms, jazz, and chamber music. Both forms are cultural fusions integrating styles of music, dance movements, and traditions, and both made for a particularly exciting workout class.

The class took the full hour and was structured in two halves: one involved Afro-beats and the other involved Afro-fusion. We started with a warmup and stretch, which is helpful in a workout to keep you from injuring yourself. I love classes that are completely choreographed to music, and this class was exactly that. It created an energetic environment that felt more like a dance party than a workout. The music included songs like “Mise au point” by Josey and “Gato Pato” by Milo & Fabio.

I loved this class for how engaging it was: the instructors were jumping around and cheering us on as we danced, creating an energetic and happy environment. During one song, one instructor even high-fived the screen, and it almost felt like a live class.

This is difficult to achieve considering the times we are living in, and I appreciated their ability to replicate the live class environment.

Cognizant of the fact that many of the participants may be new to the class, there was ample instruction, often with repeating patterns so that we could learn and improve throughout each song.

I am deep into the midterm season — as most of us are — and have very limited energy to work out. While 5:00 pm on a Friday may not seem like the best time to work out, it was a much-needed energy booster, and I was grateful for the environment created by the instructors. It was the perfect break from studying and made it seem like I had something exciting to do on a classic COVID-19 Friday. I highly recommend this class, and I appreciate that a class was offered in honour of BHM.

This Friday night workout almost felt like a live class.

MAHIKA JAIN/THEVARSITY

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THE VARSITY

DIVERSIONS

MARCH 1, 2021

‘Ebonic Entity’

A letter from the backpage artist By: Makena Mwenda Black History Month (BHM) is a great time to look back and reflect on which spaces Black people are excluded from and fill them. This year, I have been particularly interested in science fiction; from the comics to the movies, there is a distinct pattern of a lack of representation of Black women.

Beyond the token movie like Black Panther or the token character, like Storm from the Marvel comics, we rarely see fully fleshed-out multidimensional Black women in the science fiction genre. I have recently learned not to make critiques on things that I am not willing to actively change, so here is my attempt to fill that space.

I propose ‘Ebonic Entity,’ a series set in outer space featuring strong Black women protagonists.

Inspired by Afrofuturism and classic science fiction comics, these works will serve to create characters who Black women can identify with, and will start a conversation about better representation in media.

The purpose of BHM is not just to look back; it is also about looking forward and creating new narratives about Black life, culture, and art. My ‘Ebonic Entity’ series aims to do just that.

Makena Mwenda designed the backpage of this week’s issue in celebration of Black History Month.