SFU’s medical school prepares to open
By: Marie Jen Galilo, Staff Writer
On June 5, SFU’s medical school was renamed the SFU Stephens Family School of Medicine to thank the Stephens family for their $40 million donation to the institution. According to SFU, Ratana and Arran Stephens are the co-founders of the breakfast company Nature’s Path and “longtime philanthropists.” This is their largest donation to date.
To learn more about SFU’s medical school, The Peak spoke with Dr. David J. Price, the founding dean.
After years of planning and preparation, SFU’s medical school will be welcoming its first cohort of 48 students in August 2026. Price said, “There’s no end of challenges in starting a school from scratch,” including designing the curriculum and recruiting and training instructors. Despite these challenges, Price shared, “We’re pretty much good to go.” He added, the institution’s interim space is now “99% finished,” and clinical teachers have been recruited and are being trained. The school has also received appropriate accreditation from the Committee on Accreditation of Canadian Medical Schools. This ensures that the quality of SFU’s doctor of medicine program meets national standards so that graduates will be able to provide quality healthcare to patients as practicing physicians.
According to the School of Medicine website, their mission is to enhance “community-based primary health care” in BC. Price shared that students will “be trained in family doctors’ offices and other community specialists [to] get a really good understanding of what happens in community-based care.”
The funding from the Stephens family will provide necessary support for the school during the first year of instruction.
“The funding that they’ve provided [ . . . ] is really over and above what the government had promised us”
— Dr. David J. Price, founding dean of SFU Stephens Family School of Medicine
Price added, “They’re interested in student support. And some of their money is very much earmarked for student support.” The donation will be used to “recruit people in the areas of health and wellness,” fund research, and support students, Price explained.
SFU’s medical school partnered with the First Nations Health Authority to ensure that Indigenous values and perspectives were integrated into the school from the very beginning. “Dr. Rebekah Eatmon, who is an Indigenous physician herself, she’s been our associate dean of Indigenous health, and she and her team have been very instrumental in helping us understand how to set the curriculum, how to ensure that we think about Indigenous students in ways of health and well being,” said Price. “One of the things that one of my Indigenous colleagues has always said to me is that, if you can raise the level of care and cultural sensitivity for Indigenous citizens and Peoples, you’ll raise it for all peoples.”
The Peak also reached out to SFU Media Relations representative, Leslie Dickson. She shared that to address the healthcare disparities in BC and advance Indigenous health, SFU’s medical school will focus on “four key areas:” preparing and training future physicians for working in communities, developing socially responsible mindsets, building community relationships, and incorporating Indigenous values into the curriculum.
Memorandum of understanding for US-Israel war on Iran up in the air
By: Niveja Assalaarachchi, News Writer
On June 14, US and Iran announced they had come to a provisional ceasefire deal to end the state of conflict between the two countries. A memorandum of understanding (MOU) was signed on June 17 by US President Donald Trump and Iran President Masoud Pezeshkian. However, the ceasefire has since been broken by both sides, with Trump declaring the MOU “over” as of July 9. However, Washington as a whole remains committed to conversations around the MOU, despite the president’s comments.
Conflict broke out between the two countries this year on February 28, when the US and Israel launched a series of military strikes on key economic and military sites in Iran.
Since February 28, the current conflict has claimed the lives of over 7,300 people, with allegations of war crimes being levelled against the US and Israel. The conflict severely impacted the global economy, with rising oil and commodity prices largely being blamed on the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz by Iran, a vital naval route through which 25% of all global goods flow.
The Peak reached out to the Iran War Observatory to learn more. The Iran War Observatory was established at the start of the conflict by five analysts under the Centre for Comparative Muslim Studies. Aidan Gough, a political analyst at the Observatory, corresponded with The Peak.
Prior to Trump’s announcement, Gough shared that the centre is “deeply skeptical” of the MOU. “The MOU lacks structural guarantees ensuring this wealth will systematically benefit daily civilian life rather than reinforcing state security apparatuses and its interests abroad.”
The MOU had not added new provisions relating to the enrichment of uranium. Article 8 called on Iran to “not procure or develop nuclear weapons,” and Article 9 noted both countries would “agree to maintain the status quo” in regards to Iran’s nuclear program. Gough noted the omission of the subject was due to Washington’s primary aim to end the economic effects of the war and to potentially get “delayed leverage” on Iran.
Overall, he said
“The MOU marks a significant departure from Washington’s initial wartime objective of ‘maximum pressure’ or regime capitulation/collapse, moving instead towards a framework of managed economic interdependence.” — Aidan Gough, political analyst at the Iran War Observatory
The impact of the war and Canada’s role in the conflict has also been of note for the analysts. Prime Minister Mark Carney released a statement supporting the US when conflict broke out, noting the importance of preventing “Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon and to prevent its regime from further threatening international peace and security.” However, he had since expressed “regret” over the direction of conflict, saying that the US-Israeli strikes were “inconsistent with international law,” as reported by Global News.
Lonely men need community, not misogyny
By: Jonah Lazar, Staff Writer
Content warning: mention of suicide and misogyny.
Seemingly everywhere you turn, there is discourse about the “male loneliness epidemic,” how young men in particular are experiencing unprecedented levels of social isolation. However, multiple studies have confirmed that loneliness rates among young men and women have jointly increased from 1990 to 2021. Everyone is spending more time by themselves, reporting fewer close friends, forming fewer romantic relationships, and spending more time alone online. The study suggests that things like “falling marriage rates, rising screen time, and the erosion of community ‘third spaces’” have contributed to this issue. The rising loneliness among men and women disproves that there is a loneliness epidemic exclusive to men, but that hasn’t stopped alt-right influencers from taking advantage of it.
Alt-right influencers like Clavicular and Andrew Tate have tapped into this market, appealing to these young men by scapegoating women as the catalysts of young men’s social isolation. Characters in the manosphere like HSTikkyTokky are trying to sculpt a definition of manhood centred around material wealth, control over women, and emotional repression. As a whole, alt-right influencers have said that young men need to scam their way into wealth via get-rich-quick schemes, smash their face with hammers, and take copious amounts of supplements and drugs in order to become “valuable” men.
This is dangerous, because men are the primary targets of the alt-right’s conspiracy theories surrounding their loneliness. This can lead to paranoia and vulnerability towards conspiratorial thinking propagated by the alt-right. This kind of thinking further isolates them from real society, making it more difficult to engage with peers and possible romantic partners, which reinforces their social isolation. Social isolation is directly linked with increased depression and suicide, which could explain the 28% increase in men’s suicide rates since the turn of the century.
In essence, the alt-right rabbit hole is intentionally further isolating men from mainstream society to profit from their loneliness.
Young men need access to healthier content and role models online. People who share their lives that’s focused on community instead of competition. Content that encourages their audience to seek out help like counselling. And, they need to encourage getting together in person, to be there for each other. A study published by the National Library of Medicine theorized that community groups, like clubs, were more important for men than close individual friendships. Some research even claims that meaningful community belonging can combat loneliness even if men are not engaging in romantic relationships.
Men need more accessible, affordable outlets for participatory sports teams, clubs, organizations, and other community activities where they can develop healthy friendships. This will help pull men away from the harmful online communities that prey on and reinforce their loneliness leading to misogyny. In doing so, we can combat the myth of the “male loneliness epidemic.”
Disabled men deserve better from us
By: Corbett Gildersleve, Opinions Editor
Content warning: mentions of ableism.
Society does not treat disabled people well and it impacts men in specific ways. Being disabled comes with stigma and the expectations to still adhere to gendered roles. Being unable to meet these expectations can result in depression and even abuse. This stigma can make men feel unwanted and devalued. It’s important to build relationships be it platonic or romantic, but asking for help can also be viewed as being weaker or less able. All of this contributes to instability in work, mental health, and social life. As such, there needs to be dedicated financial, medical, and social support for disabled men to not just survive, but thrive.
For men, there is still a gendered expectation to be strong, masculine, and provide for their loved ones. However, disabled men can struggle with gaining or keeping employment, and contributing to paying bills, especially if they’re denied government disability support. For those with work benefits, that doesn’t always mean they get the support they need. When their needs aren’t being met at work, this can cause them to lose their job. Because our society still pushes for people to be independent, showing signs that you need support, even with assistive devices like a wheelchair, can cause men to delay getting them.
Making friends, expanding their network, and/or finding romantic partners can be especially challenging. They can worry about being excluded in some activities, whether new friends will stick around if they get sick, or make fun of them. People might disbelieve or react negatively to their romantic relationships, even thinking that the person romantically involved with them is a sibling or a caretaker. For meeting potential romantic partners, there might be questions that are asked to them or assumptions thought about them. These could include if they’re able to sexually perform, have children, or provide for their partner and/or children. In cultures where families help with matchmaking, expectations around caste, type of disability, and economic status might be a strict requirement.
All of these challenges can contribute to poor mental health, sometimes leading to depression.
The requirement to be visibly masculine, where men have to “suck it up” when sad or struggling, limits them from seeking support.
Even the idea about attending a peer-support group for depression with other disabled men can seem too heavy to attend. And this topic might not even be shared between friends due to the fear of appearing weak and the need to perform masculinity at all times. This causes some men to still suffer when seeking help due not clearly communicating the support they need.
In Canada, there is community and government support for men with disabilities, however tackling the larger societal perception issues are the most challenging. They need the media and the wider community to stop viewing disabled people as lesser. They may need financial support, either through work or governments to live a dignified life. Men need dedicated peer-support groups that challenge common harmful depictions and expectations of masculinity. They need the rest of us to do better by being anti-ableist and advocate for their needs.
Body positivity is vital for boys and young men
By: Tomos Land, Staff Writer
Unrealistic body standards are promoted everywhere in our day-to-day lives. Effortlessly handsome models accompany every product or service and chiselled stars are the centerpiece of the action in the media. Increasingly, even at your local gym, perfectly proportioned people seem to be defying biology and can be found on every machine. On social media, trends that focus on returning to our primitive roots, or pursue “looksmaxxing,” an ideology popularized by incel culture that scores areas of the body like your jaw, skin, and muscles. All of these can lead to eating disorders and body dysmorphia in men. However, given the multitude of issues troubling boys and young men today, these same trends often fly under the radar. There needs to be more local and national support for young men and boys to counter the negative messaging that we see in both physical and social media.
The knock-on effect of unrealistic body standards can impact every facet of our lives. For boys whose bodies are going through the trials and tribulations of puberty, certain ideas around how a man should look risk magnifying pre-existing insecurities. These include not looking masculine enough, feeling too short or too small, and worrying about changing features, such as complexion, that might be deemed unattractive. For young men, who might be navigating romantic relationships for the first time, unrealistic body standards heighten the anxiety that this new experience can bring, especially in relation to sex and undressing in front of a partner.
My own experience with the harms of unrealistic body standards for men was out of a compulsive obsession with self-improvement. Having spent most of my childhood and teenage years playing sports, the challenge for me was never about getting in shape, but rather getting faster, stronger, or fitter. Naturally, the yardsticks I used were other people such as professional athletes and online personalities. As I entered my 20s it felt as if the goalposts kept moving. I could tell that something wasn’t adding up; my body looked nothing like influencers’ shredded physiques. I worked out why after the More Plates More Dates exposee of Brian Michael Johnson, a.k.a “The Liver King,” came out in November 2022.
Combatting this issue as part of the growing efforts to address the major challenges that boys and young men face, is vital in securing future societies that are built on healthy relationships with our body and others.
Steroid use amongst young men, driven in part by body image insecurity and fuelled by charlatans such as Johnson is skyrocketing. He credited the consumption of raw meat for his gains, but in reality it was steroid use. It’s impossible to know whether many of the people I previously compared myself to on Instagram or YouTube were using supplements or steroids to gain and maintain their physiques.
To combat this, more education is needed to help boys and young men understand what a healthy body looks like and how it functions. Programs such as the Lost Boys Project in the UK are laying the groundwork for change to be made. This project, run by the Centre for Social Justice, examined the home, work, education, and health situation for young men and boys. They found that they were falling behind in school, had fewer role models, changing economic options, and were using steroids at a young age. The centre has also released further reports exploring how men are depicted in popular culture, men stepping up as role models, and policy recommendations for boys as they age and youth sports.
A similar strategy, currently being developed by the federal government, needs to be implemented soon in Canada if the emerging identity crisis for boys and young men here is to be averted.
Tying masculinity to stoicism makes the world worse
By: Maya Barillas Mohan, Staff Writer, Corbett Gildersleve, Opinions Editor
We can all attest to a growing phenomenon of masculine self-help within the past few years. Quarantine as a result of COVID-19 gave many of us a shared sense of isolation and helplessness. This moment was a prime backdrop for self-help spaces to encourage men to adopt stoic beliefs as a way to cope.
Stoicism is roughly the idea that in circumstances you cannot control, one should concern themselves with things you can control, namely, your emotional responses.
However, this has led to men co-opting and misunderstanding this philosophy to promote becoming unemotional. This could have the side effect where men will more readily approach shared dilemmas in life with passivity.
Dealing with large complex problems like climate change can lead to anxiety. Climate anxiety can result in burnout and a sense of hopelessness for activists who don’t see any meaningful change. Therefore, people exploring social media for ways to control how they react to something so large and complex makes sense. However, this push has also allowed men to co-opt stoic beliefs that misunderstand the philosophy connecting it to masculinity. While stoicism champions living unfrivolously (and thus, sustainably), many influencers display their success through status symbols like muscle or sports cars, showing the opposite of their beliefs. Viewing issues outside of our direct control as not the responsibility of any one individual does not mitigate or fix the issue; collective action is the seed that enables change.
Stoicism and continued climate change behaviours go together through their connection to masculinity. Is stoicism really an effective worldview to hold as we all march towards a higher global temperature? It seems to me that in this misunderstanding of stoicism, some of the emotional responses to crises are bleached. We need climate grief to take action as no change will emerge from apathy.
Emotional suppression is described as stability and confidence but I would argue it’s closer to a kind of deprivation in all scenarios. This co-opted stoicism believes in dispensing with all of the “unnecessary emotions,” but I think some of these emotions are rather proof of a close connection. Masculinity does not have to be threatened through climate activism — the closest connection we have is to our planet. In protecting our planet, we can also have a closer connection to one another by dispensing with cars and the identity we foster through them, maybe by taking the train instead.
Stoicism has some benefits in handling a changing world, and versions of its ideologies are valuable to everyone seeking control over their own lives. But the brand of stoicism that is specifically peddled to an environmentally unsustainable masculinity can be harmful. If we extinguish the role of emotions in activism, our changing world will just keep changing, no matter how calm we stay about it.
Reflections on dating as a person with chronic illness
By: Zainab Salam, Editor-in-Chief
After years of dormancy, a few months ago, with strong encouragement from important people in my life, I went out on a date. As wonderful as dating can be for some, it feels so exhausting that I seldom do. Dating is an uncomfortable terrain — where one has to scour for a possible partner through ill-fitted matches and awkward silences. I’m a private person with a penchant for contemplative conversations and a desire to spend time with people that plan on staying. The idea of sharing a drink or a meal with a stranger hoping to hit it off doesn’t seem sufficient enough to incentivize me to arrange a date. I’ve reached a point in my life where my focus is expanding beyond my personal achievement to my interpersonal relationships; specifically the romantic part of my life. After awkward introductions to guys I barely know by family friends at events, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I bit the bullet and downloaded a dating app. After creating a profile I began swiping right and left on a diverse range of men: what had quickly made itself known is the sense of exasperation that stems from having a chronic illness. This wasn’t a thing I had to deal with prior to my early 20s. A few years ago, I began to deal with various health issues. My health issues started with a kidney stone that led me into an operation room, and it still causes chronic pain, fatigue, and recurring kidney stones. This made my ability to go through bad dates wane into null. Although it hasn’t rendered my desire for a partnership to decrease; I still experience a yearning for a healthy and balanced romantic partnership.
However, considering that my disability is not visible to others, without my explicit declaration, none would be the wiser. While this places me in an incredibly privileged situation, I’m often left privy to people’s ableist tendencies, thoughts, and actions — all to varying degrees. I hear the ableist language people spew when they think no disabled person is around in social gatherings. I sustain the judgment that people have towards me when I’m late for meetings or appear to be dazed because they assume I’m able-bodied.
The same day I began swiping on a dating app, I matched with a man, and planned a coffee date. An hour into the date, he asked for us to go on a walk. It was at this point that I thought to notify him of what everyone who would dare to promenade with me should know: I deal with chronic pain that can worsen with walks. I also tend to flare up when the weather is chilly, which it had been. He asked numerous questions about my condition, and I answered. With this newfound knowledge about me, we still went on that walk.
Outside the ordinary flow of conversation, I found myself at a mental standstill. After that date ended, and my flare up began as I had anticipated, I reflected on my drive back home. In my car, which usually blares music in a volume that could only harm the ears, I drove in complete silence. The 20 minute drive back home had collapsed all of my fears and anxieties about the feasibility of ever finding a partner into what felt like a weight on my chest. All I kept thinking about is how even with my explanation, which required me to be vulnerable and to share something private, he didn’t understand how chronic pain isn’t like regular pain.
It might’ve been us lost in translation, or maybe I hadn’t advocated for myself enough. All I had thought about at that moment is I could’ve not disclosed my disability, and it wouldn’t have changed much.
As I mull this incident over, my chronic illness helps me weed out those who don’t actually care about me — in both platonic and romantic senses. If it weren’t for this interaction, I might’ve thought he was a kind person who I might’ve given a chance beyond that coffee date. But my chronic illness brought our incompatibilities to the surface by showcasing his inability to understand my situation. My chronic illness helps me see whether I want someone in my life fairly quickly.
When it comes to my relationships, whether romantic or platonic, I can quickly discern how they view me and how much they care about me. I know who my real friends are because they are the ones who check up on me regularly, and stop to sit on a bench when we’re on an outing. And they do that without making me feel like a burden. This is not always the experience that I have with people. There have been many times where advocacy seems futile, because I would share my condition with someone, and it goes uncared for.
In the past I have developed crushes on individuals, and found out very quickly that my disability would not be accommodated in a connection. It’s difficult every time, because it’s hard to not feel rejected. However, who even wants a partner who doesn’t care about them, anyway?
With high standards for a loving partner, I find myself quite frequently having to ask if it’s even possible to find love when dealing with chronic illness. Especially that I have not had any luck in finding my person since my chronic illness attacked me with full force a few years ago. Considering my age, I have lived a significant portion of my adult life without romance, and I’m OK with that. But as the years go by, and my romantic life remains untapped, the prospect appears as a phantom that continuously grows more faint.
In a passing conversation with a classmate a few years ago — before I had fully known or even accepted that I was chronically ill — the topic of having a chronically ill spouse came up. As a person who grew up with countless loving partnerships around me, I have always known that the key to a happy life is understanding that loving someone comes with understanding that one’s partner’s well-being is just as important as one’s own. I grew up with a lovely grandfather who made my grandmother breakfast in bed every morning, while she made him his tea the way he liked it. He took care of her when she had migraines, and she took care of him when his diabetes caused health complications.
This, for whatever reason, wasn’t the perspective that my classmate held. She spoke of how she would find her spouse’s illness unattractive. How she would still be his wife, but she wouldn’t take care of him if necessary, because she wouldn’t see him the same way.
That conversation lives rent free in my head everytime I flare up and find myself in need of another person’s help. I logically know someone who truly loves me wouldn’t view any signs of vulnerability in a negative manner; I know I don’t and never will. And I know that those who love me don’t see me any different than they used to before. However, this doesn’t stop the association of the lack of a romantic relationship from my life to me being chronically ill.
As painful as it is to ache for love, it would be far more painful to be in the wrong relationship.
A taste of Tuareg desert blues
By: Jonah Lazar, Staff Writer
Amidst the downtown chaos of the World Cup, the annual Vancouver International Jazz Festival took place from June 19 to July 5. This year marked the 41st iteration of the festival, run by Vancouver’s not-for-profit Coastal Jazz annually since the mid ‘80s. Composed of over 170 performances with artists heralding from 12 different countries, this festival is one of the city’s largest, with over 100,000 fans attending every year. The Vancouver International Jazz Festival prides itself on accessibility, with ticket prices rarely exceeding $30 and many performances taking place at free venues.
I attended Étran de L’Aïr’s set at the Georgia Street stage next to the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery on June 28, as part of the festival’s free outdoor concert series. Étran De L’Aïr are one of the rising star bands in the Tuareg desert-blues genre, a blend of traditional music from the semi-nomadic Tuareg people and American blues. Founded as a family band, Étran De L’Aïr worked their way from playing anywhere and everywhere in the historic Nigerienne city of Agadez to claiming international success, touring worldwide, and releasing a few albums along the way.
Étran De L’Aïr have been a staple in my music rotation for a few years now; I’ve enjoyed listening to them in the mellow moments where I’m doing the dishes, or catching the bus late at night. The energy they brought to the stage was far from mellow, however. Standing in front of us, clad in matching emerald and pearly white tagelmust veils, they launched into a punchy, euphoric chorus of overlapping guitars, all members singing into the microphone during what felt like a never-ending song that probably ran close to the 20-minute mark. All the while, the masses gathered around the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery under the warm June sun danced and swayed uncontrollably to the trance-like rhythm. Pausing just to trade instruments with one another, Étran De L’Aïr picked up just where they left off with another half-dozen songs, transporting the crowd to a Nigerienne wedding party with their magnetically festive Saharan guitar.
The highlight for me was the last song of their set, where the two guitarists faced each other and traded improvised solos for a good 10 minutes, with each solo more intricate and sped up than the last.
The joy that the band members exuded from the stage was infectious during this whole set. Looking around the crowd I didn’t see a single person without a smile on their faces, grooving uncontrollably to Étran De L’Aïr’s captivating tunes.
Overall, Étran De L’Aïr managed to bring a fresh sound to the stage, lighting up the crowd during their hour-long set on a warm June night in Vancouver.
Rhonda Webster’s reflections on growing up with a bipolar parent
By: Maya Barillas Mohan, Staff Writer
A new melancholic book written by University of Victoria student Rhonda Webster describes the realities of bipolar disorder. Please Stay With Me, is about 80 pages long and illustrated in full colour by the author’s daughter-in-law, Zoe Webster. The Peak interviewed Rhonda Webster to learn more about how and why the work came to life.
Please Stay With Me is based on Webster’s own story growing up with a mom living with bipolar disorder (symptoms can include a fear of dependency on others, being stigmatized as a “selfish parent,” and constant self-doubt) exuding the “rawness of feelings exploited and exposed.” The experience of caretaking comes with feelings like “anger and happiness, hate and love, and pain,” which Webster describes as unbalanced dualities. The book aims to “let the world see that [a] person is not defined by their illness,” and in the case of her own mother, refute how “people would outcast my mum because of her illness, and they would miss the opportunity to meet an amazing woman who was well read, cared deeply about people, and fiercely defended her values.”
Through the book, images “augment and elevate the story.” Zoe and Rhonda Webster worked together to offer the reader “an ability to feel the story,” weaving the heavy nature of the storyline with visual depictions evoking tears and joy. “Telling difficult stories is necessary,” Webster continues, “so other people experiencing difficulties realize they are not alone.” In an effort to best share her trials with others who may relate, Webster has taken care to universalize her characters by referring to them as “daughter” and “mother,” to erase the “isolation loved ones often feel” while reading.
Webster’s book communicates the reality of mental health struggles to only those who want to understand them. “Communicating with people that show up to share their judgement and opinions creates a defensive conversation and halts all communication.” Webster also explains she does not think “anyone other than the person experiencing the struggles can clearly explain what it feels like.” To mediate being a speaker and listener, Webster tells The Peak,
“Sometimes we need to be too much and honour our voice; other times we may need to be in a place of listening and understanding which may be honouring more of our quietness.” — Rhonda Webster, author of Please Stay With Me
Ultimately, Please Stay With Me reflects the “beautiful times encased within the turbulent [ones].” Webster hopes the reader will understand “you are not responsible for how someone else feels; you are only responsible for how you feel and react. You start to learn what is within your control and what is not, and once you find peace in that you experience more of life’s pleasures.” Please Stay With Me is a meditation of resilience and love.
Please Stay With Me can be purchased at Wild Skies Press.
Art in service of queer empowerment and resistance
By: Nejdana Houshyar, Peak Associate
The Health Initiative for Men is a not-for-profit grassroots health organization, whose primary mandate is to “strengthen the health and well-being” of queer men throughout the province. As part of their efforts to spread awareness on health issues faced by men, the society regularly displays art from local queer artists at their studio on Davie Street. Their current exhibit on display is by Zaid KBear, who blends realism and impressionism by uniquely using soft pastels to contrast the masculine body with a sexual, ethereal form. The Peak spoke with KBear to learn more about his artistic practice and current exhibition.
When asked about his artistic style and influences, KBear describes his work as “explorative and evolving.” Because he is not classically trained, he explains a mix of “insecurity or inadequacy” fuels his exploration, pushing him to constantly change techniques while maintaining consistent themes between pieces. Specifically, he says he is “drawn to the male form” and is “interested in portraying sexuality.” He explains, “Living authentically as a gay man meant confronting and unlearning the shame and stigma I had internalized around homosexuality and sex.” He adds, “Art became a powerful way to work through that process to celebrate my sexuality openly and unapologetically, without shame or fear of judgment.”
KBear was introduced to soft pastels during a “single college art class back in 2007.” He explains that he has always been drawn to impressionist art because of the “sense of looseness and freedom it carries.” Although his early work was mostly impressionist, he reveals that as he “began taking on commissions and creating professionally,” his work “gradually became more realistic and more refined.” Now, while using both approaches, he says he purposely leaves areas “unresolved,” because he doesn’t “want the work to become a photocopy of reality, but also because it has become symbolic” and “there is always room for growth.” He describes his use of soft pastels as the “perfect medium for exploring that tension,” one that creates “texture, atmosphere, and depth in a way that feels uniquely alive.”
In KBear’s installation, he paints real, diverse men from local communities. Each work incorporates elements such as, “kink, harnesses, latex, leather, partial nudity, or minimal clothing.” He explains that these features “reflect forms of self-expression that already exist within queer communities and spaces and deserve to be represented without shame or sanitization.”
His decision to paint the masculine form in an unconventional, sexual way is because he believes there is still “discomfort and stigma attached to seeing men portrayed as objects of desire, vulnerability, sensuality, or beauty.” As he states,
“Depicting the masculine form openly and unapologetically is one way to push back against shame and expand what kinds of bodies and expressions we allow ourselves to celebrate.”
— Zaid KBear, Artist
