To apply to be The Peak’s Humour Editor for one semester, fill out the form below. For those who can attend, applicants are invited to give a brief presentation of their plans and qualifications at the Peak office, MBC 2900, at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Voting will then be open for one week. Contact [email protected] for more information.
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To apply to be The Peak’s Features Editor for one semester, fill out the form below. For those who can attend, applicants are invited to give a brief presentation of their plans and qualifications at the Peak office, MBC 2900, at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Voting will then be open for one week. Contact [email protected] for more information.
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To apply to be The Peak’s Copy Editor for one semester, fill out the form below. For those who can attend, applicants are invited to give a brief presentation of their plans and qualifications at the Peak office, MBC 2900, at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Voting will then be open for one week. Contact [email protected] for more information.
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To apply to be The Peak’s Associate News Editor for one semester, fill out the form below. For those who can attend, applicants are invited to give a brief presentation of their plans and qualifications at the Peak office, MBC 2900, at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Voting will then be open for one week. Contact [email protected] for more information.
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To apply to be The Peak’s Arts Editor for one semester, fill out the form below. For those who can attend, applicants are invited to give a brief presentation of their plans and qualifications at the Peak office, MBC 2900, at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, July 8. Voting will then be open for one week. Contact [email protected] for more information.
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In 2011, Canadian born Laura Byspalko and India native Sirish Rao created the Indian Summer Festival as an extension of their personal explorations of Canadian and Indian culture. I sat down with the couple to talk about this great 10 day event.
“It started personally in terms of exchanging each other’s cultures. There couldn’t be a place more opposite than India and Vancouver, so both of us had a lot of ‘whys’ about everything and trying to engage with the place, trying to find out the history; what’s the social history, political history, what’s cultural production like, and we thought, ‘hey, there isn’t anything in Vancouver that’s really like that,’” says Rao.
The Indian Summer Festival boasts a diverse lineup of events (free and ticketed) that allow Vancouverites to engage with the different aspects of Indian culture with a Canadian flair. Byspalko and Rao were exploring the idea of creating a festival and ended up pushing it through in a very short amount of time, with 2011 being the year of Vancouver’s 125th birthday, the opening of SFU Woodwards campus, and the year of “India in Canada.” From this happenstance lineup of perfect timing, the Indian Summer Festival was born and was the first festival to take place in the still young SFU Woodwards building.
The grounding point of this festival is to “challenge some basic stereotypes,” says Byspalko, and to allow for people of all different cultures and backgrounds to break down barriers and create conversations about things that may be a little outside their comfort zone. Byspalko and Rao want their festival goers to walk away feeling inspired and enlightened by things they may not have had a chance to experience in their day-to-day lives.
The couple agrees that Vancouver, although diverse in its population, is quite segregated within different neighborhoods, communities and cultures; they are hoping to break some of these boundaries.
From the Festival’s start on July 4 to its finish on the 13, there are numerous expositions of varying art forms taking place: from free hip-hop yoga to a culinary tour of South Asia with Vikram Vij — who compares flavours in food to musical notes — to the finishing act, The Lit and Sound Cabaret.
A perfect ending to this cultural festival, the Lit and Sound Cabaret is the coming together of Canadian and Indian artists in the form of music, spoken word and visual art. The Cabaret, taking place on July 13, boasts a line-up of performers both veteran and new to the performance scene, and allows for the artists to collaborate and take inspiration from one another.
Unlike all the other events that will be happening in and around the Woodwards building, the Lit and Sound Cabaret will be on Granville Island in Performance Works, which really opens up more exploration of different areas of Vancouver.
No matter what art form you are interested in, or if you are just looking for a free or cheap way to entertain yourself this summer, be sure to check out the Indian Summer Festival happening at SFU Woodwards, Victory Square Park, and Granville Island up until July 13.
For the sake of fairness, let’s spot Pixar the unasked-for existence of Monsters University in the wake of two projects that both suffered from the studio’s inevitable bastardization at the hands of Disney. For though the original film did not have the emotional depth or profundity of its three Pixar predecessors, Monsters, Inc. remains the richest, most original world that the animation studio has devised for one of their films.
That world’s premise remains more or less the same in University: in the world of monsters, electricity is generated by producing doors to the human world, sneaking into children’s bedrooms at night, and frightening them to produce “scare power.” The resolutely un-scary bookworm Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal) and cocky James P. Sullivan (John Goodman) both aim for a career in the Monsters Incorporated Scarer Team, and so in this prequel they attend a university “scare program.”
The new setting of this prequel — unlike its predecessor — is more interested in transmuting the rules of its world into the cliches of our own than in logically developing them for the sake of its own story. Mike and Sully meet for the first time, and at first, they are enemies. When they are removed from the scare program, Mike enters the two of them — along with a tiny fraternity of dorky misfits — into the University Scare Games, where victory will see them reinstated in the program.
The plot that follows — Mike and Sully learn to work as a team, and the misfit underdogs make surprising waves in the competition — is satisfyingly accomplished and has its fair share of laughs, but it’s hard to shake its formula and lack of a real emotional core.
None of the leads’ personal hangups (Sullivan’s family name, Mike’s fundamentally unscary appearance) is ever given personal weight or clear development , and so when in the final act they’re made the crux of plot points, there’s no genuine emotional connection. The character arcs (and the entire cast of secondary characters) feel as though they’ve been constructed around the plot instead of organically integrated into it.
My impression of the film was not so nearly as negative as it may seem, but one can only go so far in commending fair and polished storytelling, which Monsters University certainly is: it’s an incredible leap forward in environmental lighting, and each story beat leads smoothly into the next.
It has virtually no moments of out and out failure (save for a denouement that awkwardly flubs the bridge between University and Inc). But there’s a distinct lack of the risk-taking that used to be Pixar’s MO. Monsters University avoids missteps, but that’s not so hard when you’re taking baby steps instead of monster leaps.
Hockey and photography — the two things I love. They’re also the two things I found a passion for when I came to Canada a little over a year ago.
I went to my first hockey game on my second day in Canada, and sort of stumbled upon it because of the group of people I was hanging out with that day. I remember walking into the arena; the cold wind blowing up from the ice; the mixed smell of the hot dogs; popcorn and beer; the sound of kids yelling; different jerseys; and the sound from the crowd cheering and swearing. The atmosphere was fantastic. Even though I had no idea what was going on at first, I fell in love with the game.
Getting into photography was pretty much the same. I had a point and shoot camera, and a couple of my photographer friends asked me to go on a photowalk with them. The next thing I knew, I was buying a used camera and lenses for an incredibly sweet deal and taking my own photos. I feel like the ability to take good photos was already in me because I was able to pick up on it unusually fast, and became known for my photos by quite a few people.
However, when I first began doing portraits, I didn’t feel like I was taking the best photos I could take, so I took my camera to a hockey game. Combining the two things I love was the best thing I could have possibly done; I saw the game through a different perspective when I looked at it through the lens.
People have asked me what I love about taking photos. I’ve heard things like, “everyone does it, you just point and click a button.” But photography is so much more than that: it’s a vision. It’s the ability to see something in your mind and then make it so with the resources you have available. It’s not about simply clicking a button on the camera. It’s about the power of envisioning something and producing a tangible version of that thing that photography is all about.
I learned that by taking photos, I could see my vision form on that tiny camera screen. I’ve seen millions of hockey photos online, I’ve seen everyone taking out their phones and taking photos at a game. I’ve done that, too. It doesn’t matter what you take the photo with, it’s what you see and how you make it come to life through your photos that matters.
I see both hockey and photography as two very different art forms. When taking photos, you capture moments by using your imagination to make them look as remarkable as possible and preserve them. In hockey, you use your imagination to come up with the best plays possible to score the most unique goals.
In my mind, the feeling when you take a great photo and the feeling when you score a great goal are exactly the same. I’ve never felt as fantastic taking my first photo as I did when I scored my first goal. The feeling that I had actually created something by envisioning it and then getting the shot or scoring the goal are the most wonderful things I have ever felt. I’m grateful for seizing the opportunity to make photography and hockey a part of my life.
A lot of people have said I’ve become a “Canadianized photographer.” I love it, and wouldn’t have it any other way.
I never knew how to articulate how precarious my identity felt. As a child, I would draw myself as a boy, complete with a penis, but I was hyper-feminine in my gender presentation. Although I have now accepted that I am genderqueer, or that I do not fit neatly into the two genders we are permitted, I have not come out as such. If people like me are to exist comfortably, this dichotomizing of gender must end. What I am proposing is a paradigm shift that is long overdue.
When I was in kindergarten, I watched an Oprah special on David Reimer, best known for having been raised as a girl after his circumcision left him mutilated. The doctor overseeing his case talked his parents into him having sex reassignment surgery, so he was raised as a female instead. Reimer eventually committed suicide after years of depression relating to his gender confusion.
From this day on, the photo of the little boy with long brown hair and a white dress was burned into my mind. I thought I was in the same situation; someone had damaged my penis and decided I would be better off thinking I was born a female. On some level, I understood these events had not taken place — they were merely analogous to my situation.
Unlike Reimer, though, I could not go to my parents about this profound unease, as it was not the result of their actions. They were neither responsible for my condition, nor could they help me. I thought it must be caused by some sickness growing inside me, and to tell anyone would result in abandonment.
I continued presenting as hyper-feminine until sixth grade, when my family bought a house far away. I became depressed, isolated, and dressed like a tomboy. Once we moved, I began presenting as hyper-feminine again, terrified my new classmates would realize what a “freak” I was. I had severe panic attacks every day, and was certain I was mentally ill.
This same year, I learned it was unusual to be attracted to other girls, and felt deeply ashamed of my “marriage” to another girl in elementary school. She would fly out to visit me, send me care packages, and we would talk on the phone for hours each day. I began keeping a journal and drawing myself as a girl with a penis, something I would continue doing until grade 10.
Years later, and after a few false starts, I eventually started dating women exclusively. I was not able to come out to my family yet, so I presented as hyper-feminine and my parents remained oblivious to my secrets. Someone close to us had come out as trans two months after I realized I could not keep dating men, and my parents were struggling to address him with the correct pronouns and accept that his identity was not a sickness.
I was, of course, deeply invested in their reactions, and they had no idea who I was as they confided in me. My father in particular frequently contrasted his masculinity and attraction to women with me.
Four months later, I told them I was a lesbian and gradually began to dress more androgynously. I found that not only did I stop receiving unwanted attention from men, I felt stronger, confident, and sexy. But I have not told them any of the things I have written about here, because I continue to live in fear of being discovered by a society that does not accept my gender as real and has policed my identity since I was born.
This has to change, and can change, if we cease to approach gender dichotomously, and allow people to discover their identities for themselves.
Every day, whether we’re turning on the news or jumping on the bus, we are confronted by the same age-old debate: where is the place for religion in our society?
Some may feel our world is becoming increasingly secular, citing new legislation on gay marriage or women’s reproductive rights in the U.S. The next moment, however, one might turn on their television to find tens of thousands of rain-drenched pilgrims cheering for the announcement of the new Pope.
So, is our world becoming more secular? Or is this just a Western-centric view? And where, for that matter, is the place for religion in a secular institution such as SFU?
Not everyone knows this, but the ivory tower has been the haven of religion for centuries. The whole concept of a university grew out of the idea of educating doctors of divinity — those who would advise the monarchs. It is only in relatively modern history these institutions have become secular strongholds.
Despite this transformation, religion can still be a part of university life: perhaps not in the way it once was, but in a world where conflict is often ruled by religion, it’s impossible to dismiss it from higher education. Atheism may be part of the status quo for many, but that does not mean we can remain ill informed and ignorant. Instead, it’s imperative we explore each other’s faiths (or lack thereof).
At SFU, we have many faith-based clubs that reach out to atheists, agnostics, and believers alike. No matter your affiliation, you are sure to find a place where you can either enrich your faith and understanding or inspire dialogue among peers.
In fact, the Ahmadiyya Muslim Student Association actually states in their mandate they hope to both “engage in religious activities and to create a dialogue with other religious groups within SFU.” Similarly, the Shia Muslim Society offers “open dialogue between all Muslim and non-Muslim SFU students.”
Whether or not this is a reaction to increasing tensions between the Muslim and Western world, the opening of doors and dialogue is precisely what should be promoted at SFU.
The Christian groups are taking a different approach which is more in keeping with their evangelical past. For example, the Chinese Christian Fellowship is hoping to “see our campuses transformed into a land of faith, hope and love.” On a similar vein, the Christian Fellowship (SCF) possesses “the desire to have everyone fall deeply in love with God.”
Of course, not everyone is interested in learning about different religions. Some are more keen to chuck a frisbee around, while others are interested in hunkering down and preparing for World War Z. The bad news for frisbee-ers but good news for the apocalypse-ers, is there might still be a religious club for you!
The Bible Believers Club’s vision is to “gather around the Word of God and be aware of modern events made clear by prophecy to prepare for the second coming of the Lord Jesus-Christ, (better known as the Rapture).” When asked for comment, the Bible Believers were unavailable, presumably busy preparing for the end of the world.
This is just a glimpse into the plethora of faith-based clubs at SFU, all of which provide unique experiences for believers and nonbelievers alike. However, the importance of these clubs transcends simply meeting new friends.
Opening up dialogue between world religions and beliefs is the key to moving forward, and the impact of doing so is well exemplified by the Bible Believers mission: unless we start looking at religion in a more open and scholarly way, preparing for the end of the world may not be such a bad idea after all.
