Clan finish outdoor track season in Championship style
While the Spring 2013 semester was wrapping up, the SFU Varsity track and field program was just getting underway with their outdoor season. In early April the team began their competitive season, traveling to Washington and California for a flurry of meets as they looked to qualify for the Great Northwest Athletic Conference and NCAA Division II Championships.
They did just that as the Clan travelled to Monmouth, Oregon for their third GNAC Championship meet, walking away with three conference titles as the women placed sixth overall and the men finished in seventh place. Captain Helen Crofts won double gold, winning the 1500-metre and 400-metre events, breaking the conference record in the latter with a time of 54.46 seconds, only 26 minutes after her first medal. Junior Jade Richardson took the Clan’s third title in the discus throw, her second consecutive conference championship in the event.
Lindsey Butterworth would take second place behind Crofts in the 1500-metre while Sarah Sawatzky and Michaela Kane finished second and fifth in the 800-metre, respectively. Freshman Chantel Desch had a strong weekend with a fifth place finish in the 400-metre and a sixth place finish in the 200-metre. Andrea Abrams would cross the line sixth in the 100-metre hurdles and Kansas Mackenzie finished eighth in the women’s 800-metres, while sophomore Ryley Carr had the fifth furthest toss in the hammer throw.
The men’s side was led by Travis Vugteveen, who nabbed a podium spot in the 1500-metre, placing third in a closely fought battle to the finish. Other notables on the men’s side came from captain Keir Forster who finished fourth in the 5,000-metre, and fifth-place finishes from Cameron Proceviat in the 800-metre race and James Young in the 1500-metre.
Luca Molinari and Ben Coles would finish in sixth and seventh positions in the hammer and javelin throws respectively before the exciting final events: the 4×400-metre relays. On the women’s side, the quartet of Crofts, Sawatzky, Kane and Desch combined for a second place finish, just moments behind GNAC rival Seattle Pacific University. Meanwhile, the seventh-seeded men’s team of Vugteveen, Proceviat, Zac Conard and Stuart Ellenwood improved three positions to finish fourth in the event.
The best was yet to come. In their first year eligible for the NCAA Division II Championships, the team qualified six women for the championship event in Palo Alto, Colorado and walked away with an individual NCAA Div. II title and three All-American awards.
In her final race in Clan colours, Crofts won the women’s 800-metre race, adding to her NCAA trophy collection having won the indoor 800-metre championship earlier in the year. The senior led the field through two laps before crossing the line on a hot spring afternoon in a time of 2:08.18 minutes.
“This was a great way to finish my Clan career,” said Crofts. “Winning this title was my goal at the beginning of the season, and I am so happy that as a group we showed how strong we are together.”
Her teammates Butterworth and Sawatzky were not far behind as the juniors finished in All-Amercian positions of fourth and sixth to close their impressive seasons. Kane had raced in the 800-metre preliminaries but did not qualify for the final.
The Clan also ran the 4×400-metre relay at the championships, as Crofts, Kane, Desch and Sawatzky combined for an eleventh place finish that was just short of qualifying for the final. In the field, Richardson made the final in the women’s discus finishing just outside All-American position in ninth place as the Clan finished their historic meet in fourteenth place out of 58 schools.
It was a successful summer for the Clan track and field program, and a number of the team’s athletes will look to continue that success this fall as they transition into cross-country season, where both the men’s and women’s sides will have a good shot at qualifying for the National Championships.
The Peak is hiring distributors!
If you are self-motivated, personable, and able to work effectively without direct supervision, The Peak wants you to become our new Distributor / Marketer.
This is a trial position similar to the folks you see distributing the Metro and 24 at SkyTrain stations. For $14.50 an hour for 1-6 hours a week, we want to have people handing copies of The Peak to SFU students as they arrive on campus. You will be required to keep track of hours worked, papers distributed, and the locations where you distributed them. SFU students will be considered before other applicants, and those who demonstrate enough knowledge about The Peak to be able to answer questions will be given extra consideration. Occasional extra duties may be assigned by the Business Manager.
Please apply by sending a resume and cover letter to [email protected]. Please indicate whether you are an SFU student in your application and list your availability at each SFU campus on Mondays and Tuesdays. Please direct any questions to [email protected].
Author Profiles: Spoken Word
Barbara Adler first became interested in spoken word after hearing Buddy Wakefield perform at Café Montmartre during the Thundering Word Heard series. She then saw the Vancouver Poetry Slam team perform at local book and magazine festival The Word On The Street and was hooked.
Adler got into the poetry slam community heavily, and was a Canadian Team Slam Champ, a CBC Poet Laureate at the Peter Gzowski Invitational and a CBC Poetry Face-Off winner. But since starting with slam poetry, Adler has gone in many other directions, exploring other talents and projects.
Adler graduated with a BA in Art and Cultural Studies from SFU with a minor in Fine and Performing Arts. Her music however, is completely self-taught. “I’ve had the privilege of working with a lot of other professionals and learning from them,” she explains.
Her BA allowed her time to “think critically about what it is to be an artist and what that means within arts and culture.” She was one of the founding members of the band The Fugitives, which “mixed spoken word and music” explains Adler, citing both as passions.
The Fugitives grew out of several poets from the Vancouver Poetry Slam community when they attended the first Canadian National Poetry Slam. Although Adler left The Fugitives a couple years ago, her love for mixing music and poetry has only grown since then.
“I love music and the rhythmic aspects of language,” gushes Adler, “the musicality of language and the intersection of poetry and music.” She then founded Fang, Vancouver’s only accordion shout-rock band. “It’s essentially me aggressively yelling lyrics,” laughs Adler. Trying to describe ‘shout-rock,’ she likens it to Patti Smith, who screams poetry over rock music.
Despite several other side projects, Adler supports herself by teaching music and poetry on contract. She finds the time to work with groups such as the Vancouver East Cultural Centre with the Ignite! Mentorship Program for youth, the Vancouver Biennale, and the The BC Schizophrenia Society’s ReachOut Psychosis Program. The latter mixes serious content with comedy and performances by her band Proud Animal, “educating youth and inspiring them to think about mental health.”
Coming up in the fall is the Accordion Noir Festival, which Adler is helping to organize. It will take place from September 12 to 15, and really pushes the boundaries of what accordion music can be. “It’s not just polkas and the elderly,” says Adler, who mentions other fringe instruments such as the ukulele that have experienced a similar resurgence in popularity. The festival’s accordion rock and dance party is not to be missed, and Adler is organizing an Underdog Instrument Grudge Match, which will pit these fringe instruments against each other in a battle-of-the-bands-type rock-off.
In September, Adler will also return to SFU to do her MFA where she wants to explore her Czech heritage and accordion music.
Kevan Cameron was born in Alberta to Jamaican parents who raised him with a strong appreciation for his cultural background and exposure to orality. Cameron’s dad was a huge fan of music, playing reggae, soul and hip hop for the family, and his mother was a teacher who would have Saturday classes to share Jamaican culture and heritage.
In grade three, Cameron’s first published poem was accepted to the Stepping Stones Anthology, and it hasn’t stopped. “Rappers were the first poets I listened to,” explained Cameron, who was drawn to hip hop music in the late 80s. He began writing his own: “I wouldn’t call it poetry, but that’s what it was.”
He attended SFU on a soccer scholarship, emphasizing that he was an “athlete-student” as opposed to a student athlete. Soccer came first and for four years he was on SFU’s Men’s Varsity Soccer Team, receiving All-American honours and the SFU Captain’s Award. He later went on to play with the Vancouver Whitecaps and the Canadian National Youth and Olympic teams. Unfortunately, an injury cut his professional soccer career short, but he still mentors and coaches youth soccer.
After university, Cameron began to explore performance of his poetry and lyricism and discovered the Vancouver Poetry Slam. His work is “influenced by black poetry, history, and culture,” and addresses social issues, raising awareness and sharing knowledge and empowerment. His stage name was “Scruffmouth the Scribe” after a nickname his brother gave him as a kid.
His own poetry style has transformed over the years, and he now describes his spoken word as “more free verse spoken dub poetry” where “the words aren’t confined to scheme.”
As his involvement increased, Cameron began organizing events with the Vancouver Poetry Slam, who would hold general events every second week, but opened up the floor to ideas for specific themes. In 2007, Cameron organized the first Pan African Slam, which coincided with Black History Month in February. Later in the year he attended his first National Poetry Slam where he hosted another Pan African Slam. “It was an opportunity to connect with the community,” explains Cameron, who felt diversity was a strong reason for the slam’s resonance.
While working on a short film in 2008 called Food for Thought with Black Sunrise Pictures, it was suggested that he form a collective for his projects. Cameron believes “we have to create the community we want” and found that as an official collective, it was easier to obtain recognition and funding. The Black Dot Roots & Culture Collective was born, with Kevan “Scruffmouth” Cameron at the helm.
Since 2008, Cameron and the Black Dot Collective have been involved in more community events, including starting the Hogan’s Alley Poetry Festival in 2011 and the Great Black North poetry anthology earlier in 2013.
The benefits of boredom
F. Scott Fitzgerald, arguably one of the greatest novelists of all time, once said, “boredom is not an end product: it is, comparatively, rather an early stage in life and art.
“You’ve got to go by or past or through boredom, as though a filter, before the clear product emerges.”
Of course, Fitzgerald was born over a century ago. It was easier to be bored then than it is now; wherever we go, we have something to distract us and keep our minds occupied, whether it’s the tiny computers in our pockets or the headphones in our ears.
However, our battle against boredom isn’t in our best interests. For years, experts having been singing the praises of tedium. Dr. Sandi Mann of the University of Central Lancashire recently conducted a study which found that daydreaming can improve creative ability.
“I do strongly believe that we shouldn’t be afraid of boredom and that we all — adults, children, workers, non-workers — need a little bit of boredom in our lives,” Dr. Mann told Science Omega.
Being bored is tougher than it sounds, though. We live in a culture dominated by convenience, obsessed with stimulation and terrified of inactivity. Internet addiction is becoming more and more of a serious issue, and excessive use of technology and social media outlets have been linked with depression, anxiety and poor sleeping habits.
The vast majority of us don’t even think about it. It’s remarkable how quickly we’ve normalized and adapted to our excessive use of computers, smart phones and tablets. I often find myself mindlessly browsing Facebook and Twitter, hypnotized by a tirade of meaningless status updates and links to pictures of cats.
The worst part is that many of us who try our best to step outside of this meaningless rigamarole find ourselves wracked with anxiety and stress: What am I missing? Whose birthday am I forgetting?
FOMO is the shorthand that psychologists have given to this phenomenon: it stands for “fear of missing out,” and given that the vast majority of university students tend to frequent at least one social media outlet, a Facebook account or a Tumblr blog has become all but necessary to stay involved in the social sphere.
Thus, boredom has been all but eradicated in our day-to-day lives, replaced by the restless anxiety of keeping track of an endless array of party invitations, cultural events, and celebrity scandals. But taking a moment to pause and daydream can work wonders for your creativity and your mental capacity.
When was the last time you wrote a journal entry, or read a novel that you weren’t assigned? When was the last time you took a walk without a gadget in your hand, and let your mind wander? As students, our daily routines are restrictive enough without us sleepwalking through them; it’s the least we can do to open our eyes and try to make the most of the moments we have to ourselves, as seldom as they are.
I know it seems cliche to urge you to “stop and smell the roses.” After all, the roses on your iPad are likely in higher definition and probably neatly organized in a folder, too.
But with the end of the semester looming on the horizon and the promise of a month off about to become a reality, remember to unplug and unwind.
Religious traditions should be adapted globally
Ramadan can be an opportunity for Muslims to reaffirm their faith in God and in each other, but if it is to thrive in the face of globalization, it may need to be reinterpreted to fit a modern world.
Although I am not a Muslim, I have observed and participated in Ramadan for the last two years after volunteering in Senegal in 2012. During one month, believers fast from dawn until sunset, refraining from taking anything into their bodies, be it food or water, or having sexual relations. Additionally, observers abstain from smoking or other vices, and some take it one step further and avoid swearing, dancing, or music.
The purpose of this abstention is to bring one’s focus to God and to appreciate the many parts of life we take for granted. Many reconnect with their faith during this month, and learn to value their self discipline. This month also sees a great spirit of giving and empathy, as the entire Senegal nation (or at least, the 95 per cent who are Muslim) fasts together.
Such rigid observance is very communal in a monoculture like Senegal, because almost everyone is fasting, and the day’s pace and timing reflect this. There’s a certain electricity in the air when you rise at 4:30 a.m. to hear the call to prayer and eat your last meal before dawn, and spending the day forgetting your hunger makes laughter with friends all the more important. In the evening, the whole city is abuzz with families shopping together to assemble bread and spreads for the breaking of the fast. When the day is finally done and bellies are full, everyone feels a sense of pride and companionship in having endured the fast together.
For this year, however, I was back in Vancouver, where our culture is much more secular and where Muslims are a distinct minority. With friends constantly planning outings at restaurants or after-dinner events, Ramadan suddenly became extremely isolating instead of a unifying force.
One can assume this is a challenge Muslims in many countries face. Take a look at the Summer Olympics, for instance; in 2012, the games took place during Ramadan from July 27 to Aug 12. This means that observing Muslim athletes were fasting — meaning not drinking water — during the competition, inhibiting them from performing to their best ability.
This makes me think about how other religions have reinterpreted their ancient texts to better fit a modern world. Consider the Jewish and Islamic prohibition on pork. A modern explanation for this archaic practice that many give is that, without refrigeration, pigs’ meat would go bad faster than other meats. This prohibition no longer factors into the 21st century, and only remains for religion’s sake (although many religious persons no longer feel that eating “kosher” or “halal” decides whether one can or cannot be called a Jew or a Muslim).
There are many important lessons in the Bible and the Qu’ran that can help one live a better life, yet these books were written hundreds of years ago, and we now have a greater understanding of how the world works. Interpretation to religious beliefs accrues with culture, a veneer that many have stripped back; an eye for an eye becomes metaphor, the burka, a cultural interpretation, four wives, an option, not an injunction.
Ramadan is but one of many Islamic traditions that have lasted since the 7th century, but our modern world makes interpreting these traditions literally quite challenging. If Ramadan remains obligatory, does it become archaic? Or is it adaptable to our modern world?
The rigidity of Ramadan makes its observance difficult, especially for those who are not surrounded by a support system or who do not live in a country that accommodates its challenges. However, that change is not going to come from the system; for Ramadan, as well as other religious traditions, to transition into the 21st century and continue to unite observers in their love for God and community, they must open themselves up to interpretation and adaptation.
Uncertainty should be approached logically
In past columns, I’ve talked a lot about logical fallacies, and I know what you’ve been thinking: “Ben, this talk about logic is all fine and dandy, but the real world is messy, and we have to make decisions based on limited information. Who’s to say what’s reasonable and what’s not?”
It’s true that we have to make judgments under uncertainty. We have to make the best decisions we can using our minds as they are now — y’know, as opposed to using something else. Every piece of knowledge you have about the real world is uncertain to some extent, having been filtered through your senses and your mind. This is not the same as saying there’s no such thing as objective truth. The problem isn’t that the real world is messy; your mind is messy, and so is everyone else’s.
In spite of this uncertainty, we don’t constantly wander around in a confused stupor. How is this possible? Gee, if only there were some mathematical way of quantifying certainty — some kind of “probability theory,” if you will.
A probability is a number that expresses the degree of belief that something is true, between 0 (0 per cent) and 1 (100 per cent). Due to a widespread fear of mathematics, people tend to cower in fear upon hearing the word “probability.”
This is a shame, because without some way of quantifying certainty, we have a limited vocabulary in which to talk about what we believe. We’re either totally certain X will happen, totally certain X won’t happen, or totally uncertain either way. But probability theory is robust; it allows us to work without total certainty. It’s just a matter of figuring out a number that pinpoints how certain you are.
Just as importantly, it gives us a set of rules to identify good or bad reasoning. I’d like to give a famous example borrowed from Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky. Imagine a 31 year-old woman named Linda. As a university student, she majored in philosophy and was concerned with issues of social justice. Which of the following statements is more probable?: (A) Linda is a bank teller. (B) Linda is a bank teller who is active in the feminist movement.
Answer: “A” is more likely, because it is less specific than “B.” However, the majority of people who answer this question think that “B” is more likely, because it fits their stereotype based on Linda’s description. This is known as the conjunction fallacy, and is something to watch out for in opinions-based journalism.
Here’s another example for you. Which of the following statements is more probable?: (A) The United States will be the victim of a nuclear attack in the next 10 years, or (B) Iran will attack the United States with a nuclear weapon in the next 10 years. Intuitively, your average pundit might act as though “B” is the answer, ignoring the fact that “A” must be likelier. I encourage you to stare at this paragraph as long as it takes you to understand why it’s exactly like the Linda example.
This is just a taste of the wonderful world of probability, as it would be impossible to give a complete course on the subject in one article. Probabilistic reasoning takes a lot of practice, but it’s worth becoming accustomed to. Instead of asking yourself, “am I certain of this, or not?” ask yourself, “how certain am I?”
Breastfeeding in public should not be frowned upon
It frustrates me to see that people living in a country as progressive as Canada are still so disapproving of women who breastfeed in public. I’m from a conservative country (Pakistan, if you’re wondering), and outrage over breastfeeding there would be expected (although not justified), because a woman publicly breastfeeding there would most likely face repercussions. However, no matter the country, this disapproval over breastfeeding needs to stop.
The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms guarantees all those living in Canada gender equity, as stated in Section 15. This means that breastfeeding in public is legal, and according to Canadian law, so is roaming around topless for every person, as can be interpreted in Section 28 of the charter, which ensures both males and females have equal claims to rights that are guaranteed.
Yet, when you go around asking people if they have a problem with breastfeeding, many seem to think it’s inappropriate. An online poll conducted by New Jersey 101.5 asked if people were uncomfortable with a woman breastfeeding in public, and 32 per cent voted in the affirmative. A friend of mine even went as far as saying, “it’s a woman who’s exposing herself in public, and she would make others uncomfortable.”
Why this hostility towards a woman who just wants to feed her baby? If you feel uncomfortable or cannot resist the urge to give her cringe-worthy looks, there are other directions you can look in; you’re the one who needs to change your perspective.
As many women nowadays like to argue, female breasts are not a sexual organ — we merely brought them into the realm of adult sexual relations. If you look at it from a logical perspective, the function of breasts (from a mother’s perspective) is to nourish by providing food for their baby. That’s all. So why, then, are mothers frowned upon by people for choosing to breastfeed in public?
There are many online forums where mothers share their discomfort and anger over getting strange looks from people — especially men — over breastfeeding in public. Some users’ stories reveal how they were asked to move to the washroom, and some discuss how they were told that their actions were “inappropriate.” One of these discussions included a woman commenting, “I think it’s okay to do it as long as a woman does is very discreetly.”
It’s sad to hear all this while trying to absorb the reality that this is in fact the 21st century — the very century that people claim no longer needs the fight for gender equality because we’ve conquered it all.
Every time a man tells me that it’s inappropriate, I force him to imagine the same scenario with him as the breast feeder; it’s hard to see why anyone would walk up to a man because of a problem with him exposing his chest in public. This is where the issue of equality comes in. We might claim it’s all hunky dory, and that feminism has achieved its goal and that there is honestly nothing to fight for anymore.
However, when a man looks me in the eye while saying he can roam around topless on the street, but he takes issue the minute a woman tries to feed that crying baby of hers in public, there is something wrong. This double standard is what makes me believe we have a problem.
Let emotions be your guide
As an English student, evaluating the creative works of others is what I spend my time doing. My classmates and I can approach this in a plethora of different contexts: historical, political, through a gendered lens, and more. We can also broach a work in its overall form (the text at large), or choose to look at a portion of it and do a “close reading.”
Of course I enjoy each of these avenues, because they reveal so much information I wouldn’t have known otherwise. However, emotions count too; they are the reason I became an English major.
Analyzing a work on the basis of where and when it is written is very helpful, but ignores some aspects of what the text can do. A text moves, a text inspires, a text makes you feel in your darkest hour. If a text fails to do this, is it successful?
The American Gothic writers presented a division between logic and emotion, so this debate is nothing new. Living in a nation prioritizing science, reason, and classification, their works played to the human psyche and tested the boundaries of the American reader; how far could audiences be pushed?
Affect theory acknowledges this type of reading, because it recognizes emotion as the initial way we respond to a work, and supports the belief that how we emotionally respond to a text reveals something about our inner selves.
Looking to emotion also allows us to connect with the artist and their work in a non-contrived way. When looking to a writer, we typically draw up a portrait of them and keep it in mind when viewing their work: their gender, race, nationality, and sexuality all become points of focus, and become “symbols” that we aim to find embedded within their works.
But is this the right way to read? By doing so in this way, we are essentially cherry-picking the features we wish to see, and ignoring or undervaluing those not aligning with the portrait of the artist. At the end of the day, the writer is a human individual, and I like to believe we are not merely the sum of all our parts, but are something more.
Claude McKay, an African-American writer from Harlem during the 1920s, makes reference to this expectation. He explained how he was expected to read his poetry while wearing a dress suit out of respect for the image the public desired of him. Instead, he maintained that he “abhorred that damnable uniform” and that “poets and novelists should let good actors perform for them.” I feel that this is exactly what we do when ignoring the emotion of a work of art — putting the artist on a stage rather than looking to ourselves and our own interpretation of the text.
This all isn’t to say that I desire no critical thinking beyond what I can feel. It is valuable to know an artist’s personal politics, and what sort of a family upbringing they had, because their experiences and ideology do influence their work and their creative process.
However, writers read the books they do out of emotional enjoyment, so we should make sure to remember to do the same, and not make idols of the artists we adore.











