Sean McNeely

‘Tree Stories' course connects ��˾��ֱ�� students to nature, history – and themselves

Christopher.Sorensen — Wed, 27 Nov 2024 13:58:09 +0000

‘Tree Stories' course connects ��˾��ֱ�� students to nature, history – and themselves

Christopher.Sorensen Wed, 11/27/2024 - 08:58

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The 'Tree Stories' course – taught by Professor Alan Ackerman from the Faculty of Arts & Science's department of English – weaves together elements of literature, history, environmental studies and getting to know the local landscape (photo by Diana Tyszko)

Sean McNeely

Topic

Our Community

Department of English

Faculty of Arts & Science

John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture

University College

Subheadline

"Individual trees have such rich history and are often overlooked so it's great to learn about them in this class”

On a recent cool and sunny morning, Alan Ackerman’s class sat under century-old elm trees behind the Whitney Hall residence at the University of Toronto’s University College, much like students did over 100 years ago.

The setting in the historic core of the St. George campus was fitting for "Tree Stories," Ackerman’s first-year English course which examines how we imagine trees in literature and art, and what trees can teach us about our place in the world.

“This course aims to get people in touch with their living world and with parts of themselves that have probably atrophied in their digitized lives,” says Ackerman, a professor in the Faculty of Arts & Science’s department of English. “It's a weave of stories, literature, history, environmental studies and getting to know the local landscape.

“For first-year students, it's a wonderful opportunity for them to get to know aspects of Toronto.”

Ackerman holds most of his lectures outside, visiting locations with a rich arboreal history across the St. George campus – which boasts over 3,300 trees including cedar, birch, ash, oak, maple and many others – and around the city.

Alan Ackerman holds most of his lectures outside, visiting locations with a rich arboreal history across the St. George campus and beyond (photo by Diana Tyszko)

“When I heard the class was always going to be outside, I wasn’t looking forward to that aspect,” says Jennifer Wilton, a first-year student and member of Woodsworth College. “But I’ve really come to appreciate the two hours of class in the fresh air.

“And now when I walk past these elms, I feel like I’m walking past something familiar. Individual trees have such rich history and are often overlooked so it's great to learn about them in this class.”

Ackerman has also held classes in the courtyard of Trinity College as well as the courtyard of University College’s Sir Daniel Wilson Hall, where students met with Danijela Puric-Mladenovic, an assistant professor, teaching stream at the Institute of Forestry and Conservation in the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design.

“She gave us a tour around [University College] where she identified a number of different trees and talked about them in relation to each other and to their ecosystem,” says Ackerman.

Alan Ackerman's class meets for a lecture beneath elm trees behind Whitney Hall (photo by Diana Tyszko)

Outside of campus, Ackerman had the students meet at spots at Queen’s Park, the Mount Pleasant Cemetery and Christie Pits Park.

“I’ve talked about Henry David Thoreau's essay, Walking, and how wilderness is not just something far off in the mountains,” says Ackerman. “There’s wilderness we can discover much closer to home.”

One of the course’s most popular outings was a visit to the Spadina Museum and its gardens, near Casa Loma.

“We talked about the history and ecology of those grounds as we picked apples,” says Ackerman. “We read Robert Frost’s poem, After Apple-Picking, and thought about the form and the content of the poem. We talked about other tree stories about apples, like Johnny Appleseed which is based on a real historical person, John Chapman.”

Students gather the dimensions of a century-old elm tree (photo by Diana Tyszko)

Sam Buonassisi, a first-year Rotman Commerce student and member of St. Michael’s College, relished his time at the Spadina Museum.

“It was such a different environment from my regular lectures, and it was just nice to see a new area,” he says. “I recently moved to Toronto from Vancouver to come to ��˾��ֱ��, so I hadn’t had many opportunities to see the city. This was one of those opportunities and I really enjoyed it.”

For Ackerman, the course is an extension of his personal interest in the burgeoning field of environmental humanities. It also taps into his appreciation for nature that grew during the COVID pandemic.

“I spent a lot more time outdoors, especially when the pandemic closed everything,” he says. “Trees became vital in my imagination, especially how trees wind their ways through stories.”

The literature the class studied varied as much as the trees they visited, from some of the earliest-known stories – such as the Epic of Gilgamesh and King James Bible – to poems by Emily Dickinson to contemporary writers like Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of Braiding Sweetgrass, and The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben.

“We also read authors, poets, essayists and others from a vast array of time periods, places and cultures, not only to consider differences, but to also gain a sense of what we have in common – not only with other members of our own species but all life on this beautiful planet,” says Ackerman.

Ackerman says the course is an extension of his personal interest in the burgeoning field of environmental humanities (photo by Diana Tyszko)

Students are also encouraged to think about their individual relationships with trees by maintaining a “Tree Diary” and writing weekly about their connection to a specific tree.

“The tree I picked is just outside my dorm, and I picked a younger tree in hopes that it would be a bit unique from some of the ones we talked about. Surprisingly, by the time I get outside and get my journal out, something always pops into my head," says Buonassisi, who adds that he now finds himself noticing trees he wouldn't have paid attention to otherwise.

For Wilton, learning about the history of trees has been a source of comfort on campus. “It makes me feel more at home and much less intimidated by this huge school,” she says.

Ackerman says he hopes the experience leaves a lasting imprint on students’ hearts and minds.

“Years after taking “Tree Stories,” they probably won’t remember the names of poems or poets or their professor, but I hope they retain the sense of being on a journey – in pursuit of not just knowledge but of wisdom.”

��˾��ֱ�� commerce grad discovers passion for teaching, science - and helping others

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 29 Oct 2024 15:59:13 +0000

��˾��ֱ�� commerce grad discovers passion for teaching, science - and helping others

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 10/29/2024 - 11:59

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Roshawn Jamasi, a member of Innis College, is graduating with an honours bachelor of commerce with a specialization in management (supplied image)

Sean McNeely

Topic

Our Community

Convocation 2024

Faculty of Arts & Science

Rotman School of Management

Subheadline

Roshawn Jamasi, who is now contemplating a career in medicine, volunteered in hospitals during his undergraduate studies and helped international students stay connected during COVID-19

Applying to medical school might not seem like a natural next step for a commerce grad, but Roshawn Jamasi says it’s all part his rich University of Toronto journey – one that also included discovering passions for teaching, science and volunteer work.

As a member of Innis College, Jamasi is graduating with an honours bachelor of commerce with a specialization in management through a joint program between the Rotman School of Management and the Faculty of Arts & Science.

“Something I loved broadly about the program was the quality of professors,” Jamasi says. “It was clear how knowledgeable they were in the depth and breadth of their experiences. The wisdom they shared was incredible.”

In particular, he credits Cindy Blois, an assistant professor, teaching stream, in the department of mathematics, for giving him the opportunity to teach in his second year.

“She took a chance on me to help teach a calculus course,” says Jamasi, who earned the department’s Daniel B. DeLury Teaching Assistant Award in 2023. “I fell in love with teaching tutorials, working with first-years and helping with lectures.

“That was one of the more standout experiences I had as an undergrad.”

He says his program’s flexibility allowed him to take courses in psychology, immunity and infection, human physiology, environmental human health, chemistry, human biology, and brain pharmacology.

“I was able to really develop my skills outside of commerce which helped me find my true passion for science, while teaching me key transferable skills through my program courses.”

Jamasi, who has had heart disease since he was 13, says he also learned the importance of putting health and well-being first – after pushing himself a little too hard in his first year.

“I would wake up at 4:30 a.m. and study for eight hours straight. I'd be getting four or five hours of sleep every night. My grades were excellent but by the exam period of second semester, my body finally quit on me as I incurred a new stomach condition."

This pain paired with managing his heart disease forced Jamasi to step back and better manage his course load and his busy schedule for his remaining years. He says he’s grateful to Innis College for being supportive and giving him the accommodations he needed to continue his studies.

“At the end of the day, a student can’t perform at their best if they're not in their best health,” he says.

Helping others flourish was a consistent theme throughout Jamasi’s academic journey.

An Equity, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) team he helped establish within his program enabled international students to better connect digitally with the rest of the program during the COVID pandemic when much of life was lived online. The team soon realized students in China were at a disadvantage because many of the program’s clubs and associations primarily used Instagram and Facebook to promote their events and activities.

“At the time Instagram was blocked in China, so was Facebook,” Jamasi says, adding that the team helped the groups share their information on the social media platform WeChat.

“This way, they had another way of getting all of the information, resources and potential job opportunities. That was something we were proud of.”

Wanting to connect students further, Jamasi and his team also created a way to show the human side of his classmates.

“We find our program is very competitive,” he says. “Our surveys were showing a lack of connectedness between students, and a lack of appreciation of each other and the diversity we bring.”

To offset this, he and his team created an Instagram page called peopleofRC that features students sharing interesting facts and experiences outside of academics.

“There’s nothing about personal achievements, nothing about accolades, it’s just sharing something unique about yourself that we can all celebrate,” says Jamasi.

Jamasi’s desire to support others also saw him volunteering at nearby Toronto hospitals.

“I began volunteering at Toronto Western Hospital when I was 16,” he says. “That's always been a nice way for me to take my mind off school and focus on other people. I would visit patients who were staying overnight and keep them company and help them feel like they're not alone. That was always really satisfying for me. I learned a lot about so many different types of people.

“Some days I'd have class in the morning. After that, I'd run to the hospital because it's so close and do some volunteering and come back to classes in the evening. Those were some of the best days.”

Jamasi has applied to medical school though he hasn’t decided which field of medicine interests him most.

“But I'm happy that I did this Rotman degree because it teaches you so many soft skills, like how to communicate, how to present yourself, how to present in a group of people, how to work in a team and lead a team,” he says.

“All those skills transfer to every aspect of business, whether you're in medicine, health care, or administration. I'm just so happy that I got to go to ��˾��ֱ�� and experience everything I did.”

��˾��ֱ�� English prof's dystopian tale explores privilege and peril in the Global South

Christopher.Sorensen — Fri, 02 Aug 2024 14:41:53 +0000

��˾��ֱ�� English prof's dystopian tale explores privilege and peril in the Global South

Christopher.Sorensen Fri, 08/02/2024 - 10:41

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Randy Boyagoda says he got the idea for his latest novel while sitting alone at the dining room table in a guest apartment in Italy, where he taught a class for several years (supplied image)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

Humanities

Literature

Subheadline

Little Sanctuary, Randy Boyagoda's first novel for young adults, is about the children of a wealthy family who are sent to a refuge on a remote island as their country is ravaged by war and disease

Randy Boyagoda, an author and University of Toronto professor, came up with the idea for his first young adult novel in 2018 while teaching a class in Rome, where he found himself alone in a guest apartment that, a year earlier, had been filled with his family.

He recently told the CBC that it was an empty dining room table that got him thinking about what one would do if they knew their loved ones were about to disappear, setting the stage his dystopian tale, Little Sanctuary.

Published in June, the novel is set in a fictional country in the Global South that is ravaged by conflict and disease. The children of a wealthy family are sent to a special camp on a remote island for safekeeping alongside other children of the elite.

However, the children discover the camp isn’t what it appears to be and become suspicious of their so-called guardians. The main character, Sabel, along with her siblings, devise a plan to escape.

Little Sanctuary is the story of children from the Global South living in a world that is falling apart.

“I don't think I started out with the intention of writing a young adult novel,” says Boyagoda, a professor of English in ��˾��ֱ��’s Faculty of Arts & Science and vice dean, undergraduate. “I wrote a short story for The Walrus that was published in 2021 during the pandemic.”

Boyagoda and his wife later organized a family book club meeting in their backyard where they talked about the short story, which he had left open-ended.

His youngest daughter had a query: What happened next?

“And it struck me as a question worth pursuing,” says Boyagoda. “So I began writing it out – what would happen next to these kids? Where would they go? What would happen to them wherever they were going?”

Boyagoda recounted the story’s origins on CBC’s Radio’s The Next Chapter.

“I really missed my family, because of the memory of when we had all been together there,” he said on the program. “I started imagining a table full of family, and then just being there by yourself. What could have changed? Why did this family disappear? That got to me, and I thought, ‘What would you do if you knew your family was going to disappear?’ You would have a final meal together, before sending your kids off for safekeeping. That's how the story started.”

Focusing on a privileged family from the Global South was intentional, Boyagoda says.

“The popularity of dystopian fiction over the last few years in television and in books has been marked by a consistent white protagonist,” he says. “Think about The Hunger Games, or Station Eleven. They tend to be privileged white people who are suddenly faced with a world that’s falling apart. And so we follow these heroes as they figure out how to survive.”

Meanwhile, other stories set in the Global South tend to involve characters who live in worlds of extreme poverty and risk.

“The Global South is also full of ridiculously wealthy people,” says Boyagoda. “So what would happen if the main characters in a dystopic novel weren't upper middle class white people? What if a young adult novel about the Global South wasn't about extremely poor brown people?”

The book begins with a quote from Franz Kafka: “Children simply don’t have any time in which they might be children.” That resonated with Boyagoda, touching on the idea that, though children are often thrust into very adult situations and are forced to act and behave like adults, their childlike behaviour still shines through.

“Sabel and her four siblings have to figure out what they're going to do when they realize things aren't as they seemed. And as a result, they don't have time to be children.

“They can't just be kids about it, they can't take for granted that they're going to be kept safe. And yet, they're still children, they still bicker. There's still sibling rivalry, even in situations where the stakes could be mortal. There's still crushes, there's still competition for attention.”

Boyagoda says the book also offers an opportunity for young readers and their parents to discuss some of the world’s current challenges.

“One of the ways that dystopia generally works is that we’re meant to imagine a version of contemporary life taken to its negative extremes,” he says. “These are books in which civil war, disease, inequality, pressures of climate have been taken to such an extreme point that things have broken in this world.

“So what happens to our humanity, to our prospects as individuals, family members and friends when current challenges and sources of division and decline are taken to their extremes? It would be my hope that a novel like this would be an occasion for parents and children together to talk these things through.”

Boyagoda also hopes young readers will enjoy rereading book.

“I've always felt this as a reader myself,” he says. “Whenever I want to reread something, that's an indicator that something significant has happened in the story that will sustain my imagination a second time through. Sometimes it's the beauty of the writing. Sometimes it's the intensity of the story. And this might be the case with Little Sanctuary – it might be to figure out the mystery in retrospect.

“In other words, there's lots of Easter eggs, but you don't see them the first time through.”

‘Fierce, Fabulous, and Fluid’: ��˾��ֱ�� researcher explores the work done by trans youth to create inclusive spaces

Christopher.Sorensen — Fri, 19 Jul 2024 16:38:01 +0000

‘Fierce, Fabulous, and Fluid’: ��˾��ֱ�� researcher explores the work done by trans youth to create inclusive spaces

Christopher.Sorensen Fri, 07/19/2024 - 12:38

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LJ Slovin, a post-doctoral researcher at ��˾��ֱ��’s Mark S. Bonham Centre for Sexual Diversity Studies, is set to have their book on trans youth in high schools, Fierce, Fabulous, and Fluid, released this summer (photos courtesy of LJ SLovin, University of Regina Press)

Sean McNeely

Topic

Our Community

Bonham Centre for Sexual Diversity

Faculty of Arts & Science

LGBTQ

Research & Innovation

Subheadline

In their upcoming book, LJ Slovin looked at the physical, mental and emotional labour that trans youth undertake in high schools

Being trans in high school today can be a lot of work – and while some of that work can be seen, much of it can’t.

LJ Slovin is fascinated with this physical, mental and emotional labour that trans youth undertake each day in order to feel safe, connected to their peers and to comfortably and safely express who they are.

A post-doctoral researcher at the University of Toronto’s Mark S. Bonham Centre for Sexual Diversity Studies, Slovin spent a year with several trans youths at a high school in western Canada to better understand this kind of labour.

Their findings are documented in a new book to be published this August, Fierce, Fabulous, and Fluid: How Trans High School Students Work at Gender Nonconformity.

“As a trans non-binary person and a former youth worker, I’ve worked with a lot of trans youth,” Slovin says.

“I was interested in the normative ideas that shape what we understand as trans in schools, and how those limited ideas create a context in which trans youth have to do a lot of labour.”

The book is filled with stories about the day-to-day experiences of six high school trans students between the ages of 14 and 18 who Slovin worked alongside for a year.

Slovin observed some students from a distance by sitting in the same classrooms.

“Some other young folks wanted me to be with them all the time,” they say. “I went to their classes, we hung out at lunch. I went to all their performances in the evenings, we would leave school at the end of the day and get snacks.”

Slovin was also intrigued with how the participating school operated and observing how these youth navigated socially within it.

“That included looking at school policy and the school’s physical space, but it also included the relationships the trans youth had with teachers [and] with other classmates – looking at all of these elements of a school that a young person would interact with on a daily basis.”

Fierce, Fabulous, and Fluid will be available in Canada in August (photo by LJ Slovin)

Slovin identified three different forms of work that the students undertook.

The first is the labour of understanding and forgiveness by continually having to be patient and compassionate when others incorrectly identified them.

“I was in a progressive school; many of the adults had good intentions towards supporting trans folks,” says Slovin.

But Slovin nevertheless noticed that the teachers, though well-meaning, would make mistakes when identifying the students’ names, genders or pronouns. The adults also wanted the students to extend empathy to them as they tried to be allies.

“That creates work for a young person to be like, ‘I understand this is a challenging thing for you to learn, and I forgive you for misgendering me,’” Slovin says, adding that such interactions – continually having to correct, explain and forgive – can be emotionally taxing.

The second type of labour Slovin observed is what they describe as legibility: having to make a distinct effort to demonstrate one is trans to elicit a response. While not all students were interested or compelled to perform this labour, Slovin says those students who wanted to be recognized as trans did this work on a regular basis.

“If they want to access accommodations, they have to be known as a transgender person, which means they have to do something to make themselves visible to adults,” they say. “So, they behave in a way that would be expected according to normative notions of trans identity.

“These students are understanding adults’ ideas of what it means and looks like to be trans, and then trying to enact that so that they can access the accommodations they need so that they’re not misgendered all the time.”

This can result in inner conflict and frustration, with some students being conflicted about how to dress, speak and act in a way that conforms to people’s often narrow understandings about trans identity.

The third form of labour Slovin calls “world building” – trans youth creating, maintaining and investing in safe spaces where they can be themselves with no expectations or demands.

“Safe spaces are tricky,” says Slovin. “People are creating them based on what they need to feel safer in a school. I was interested in the spaces they built away from all of the surveillance and observation where they could just live in relation to their gender in ways that weren't noticed in school.”

One such space was the tech booth in the school’s theatre, where Slovin spent hours with two students.

“When we were in the tech booth, everything was different,” they say. “They didn't have to prove that they were trans to me or to each other, they didn't have to worry about having their pronouns respected, they didn't have to worry about dressing in a certain way that undercut their legitimacy as being who they are.

“They were able to dream about what it would be like when they were not in the school anymore, and they could live in a trans community and live more aligned with their desires.”

Through their book, Slovin hopes to provide educators with ideas about how to re-evaluate school environments.

“How do we shift the ways that we think about trans youth and about gender nonconformity? What if we step back and ask, ‘What is happening in school environments that is creating hardship for young people?’

“Instead of adults being accommodating when a transgender person makes themselves known, what about creating environments that already invite the possibility of gender non-conformity?”

Slovin is looking forward to discussions their book will spark upon its release next month.

“It was an amazing project,” they say. “To spend all of that time with the same people was a gift. I got a lot out of the time we spent together – a lot of joy, because for all the ways that we talked about trans folks dealing with intense things, it was just lovely to share that time and space with them.”

'Incredible gratitude': ��˾��ֱ�� grad on his journey from spinal cord injury to convocation

rahul.kalvapalle — Tue, 04 Jun 2024 15:15:50 +0000

'Incredible gratitude': ��˾��ֱ�� grad on his journey from spinal cord injury to convocation

rahul.kalvapalle Tue, 06/04/2024 - 11:15

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Six years on from sustaining a life-altering injury, Beau Hayward is graduating with an honours bachelor of arts degree – and looking forward to beginning his master's at ��˾��ֱ�� in the fall (photo by Matthew Volpe)

Sean McNeely

Topic

Our Community

Convocation 2024

Facilities and Services

Accessibility

Athletic Centre

Faculty of Arts & Science

KPE

Woodsworth College

Subheadline

"My time at the university has been completely intertwined with my recovery, and what I’ve learned is that it really wasn’t as much about regaining anything as it was about building something completely new."

In the summer of 2018, Beau Hayward dived off the dock of a friend’s cottage in Sudbury, Ont., and unexpectedly struck the bottom. Face down in the water and unable to turn over, he was luckily found by a friend who was able to revive him on shore.

Beau Hayward (photo by Matthew Volpe)

But the accident changed Hayward's life. He sustained a spinal cord injury that caused him to become an incomplete quadriplegic, which means he has limited function in his upper body.

A period of profound adjustment followed that involved tirelessly working towards regaining his independence and developing a mindset to focus on what was truly important and worthy of his time and energy – which, he decided, was studying history and archaeology at the University of Toronto.

Hayward is graduating this spring with an honours bachelor of arts degree as a member of Woodsworth College. He spoke to Faculty of Arts & Science writer Sean McNeely about his experiences at ��˾��ֱ�� and pursuing what he loved:

What did you enjoy most about the history and archaeology programs?

When I began, my interest in history was very broad, albeit somewhat focused on North American and European history. The way the undergrad program is designed, you’re exposed to historical research from across the world, but there was always something about American history that held a grip on me.

The professors and TAs made all the difference throughout my undergraduate degree. I had the opportunity to take several courses taught by Assistant Professor Max Mishler who has been an inspiration and supported me throughout the past four years.

The archaeology undergraduate major is an incredible program that has so many avenues for growth. There are field schools around the world, field schools in Toronto, and opportunities to get hands-on experience inside laboratories at the university. As a student with a physical disability, there are a lot of challenges in pursuing archaeological research, but that never stopped my ��˾��ֱ�� professors and TAs who always worked with me to make sure that I was getting the most out of my experience.

Professor Michael Chazan and Hilary Duke, a postdoctoral fellow, worked with me to build my experience working with archaeological materials in the lab – that was a highlight of my university experience.

Throughout my undergrad, I’ve had the opportunity to take several courses with Hilary Duke focusing on stone tools. From early on, I felt an attachment to these artifacts. There is something special about them; they are such a tremendous part of human history and can tell us so much.

Can you share your experiences with accessibility at ��˾��ֱ��?

When I decided to go to ��˾��ֱ��, some friends were concerned that an old university would not be accessible. As it turns out, it’s incredibly accessible. Over my four years, I can think of only two instances where classrooms proved difficult for accessibility, and those issues were resolved quickly.

Additionally, the Office of Facilities & Services has a deep commitment to accessibility. I had the pleasure of providing consultations for upcoming construction projects involving accessibility.

Outside of the physical aspects of accessibility on campus, I’ve had incredible support from the university’s Accessibility Services team. Michelle Morgani has been my accessibility adviser since the beginning at Woodsworth and has been critical in my success at the university.

Everything from accommodated formats for research materials to accommodated testing services made my experience as a student with a disability seamless.

Looking back, what advice would you give your first-year self?

Spinal cord injuries take everything from you, and the journey of recovery is about regaining as much as possible. My time at the university has been completely intertwined with my recovery, and what I’ve learned is that it really wasn’t as much about regaining anything [as] it was about building something completely new.

My advice to my first-year self would be to trust the process and enjoy every minute because it really does fly by.

What have been some of your most memorable experiences at ��˾��ֱ��?

As I reflect on the past five years, I cannot help but feel incredible gratitude towards the massive group of people who have helped me along the way.

I will be forever grateful for all the students and staff who work at the Athletic Centre. With their incredible support, I have been able to regain so much physical strength that has shaped my independence.

I also had the pleasure of working on the [Faculty of] Kinesiology & Physical Education’s Equity, Diversity, Inclusion and Belonging team and developed a few programs for students with disabilities. These programs were both big and small, and created some incredible experiences that I will cherish.

What’s next for you after graduation?

I will be beginning my master’s in history [at ��˾��ֱ��] this September which I’m thrilled about. My research will be focused on the United States. I’ll be researching early 20th-century labour history, with my project specifically focused on Appalachia.

What would you say to someone considering ��˾��ֱ�� and Woodsworth College?

The staff and faculty at Woodsworth College are incredible. They are committed to their students’ success. The Academic Bridging Program was my ticket into the university and to a new life. It sounds dramatic, but it’s absolutely true. I cannot emphasize enough how fantastic the community at the college really is.

Not only are the staff and faculty members amazing and driven to provide every opportunity for success, but there is tremendous peer support and community at Woodsworth. To someone considering ��˾��ֱ��, and especially the Academic Bridging Program at Woodsworth College, there is a life-changing opportunity available here. Don’t let it pass you by.

Photo exhibit on display at ��˾��ֱ�� celebrates the important role of Black classicists

Christopher.Sorensen — Fri, 03 May 2024 19:58:02 +0000

Photo exhibit on display at ��˾��ֱ�� celebrates the important role of Black classicists

Christopher.Sorensen Fri, 05/03/2024 - 15:58

Cutline

The “Black Classicists in North America” installation is currently on display at the University of Toronto in the Lillian Massey Building on the St. George campus (photo by Diana Tyszko)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

Humanities

Religion

Subheadline

“This exhibition has been displayed in many U.S. and U.K. institutions, but this is the first time it has been made available in Canada”

A new installation at the University of Toronto celebrates the important role of Black classicists who overcame enormous obstacles to advance Greek and Latin language studies.

Housed in the Lillian Massey Building on the St. George campus , the photo exhibit, “Black Classicists in North America” celebrates 18 prominent scholars of the 19th and 20th centuries.

“Black Classicists in North America” celebrates 18 prominent scholars of the 19th and 20th centuries (photo by Diana Tyszko)

“This exhibition has been displayed in many U.S. and U.K. institutions, but this is the first time it has been made available in Canada,” says Ben Akrigg, an associate professor with the department of classics in the Faculty of Arts & Science who helped facilitate this exhibit coming to ��˾��ֱ��.

“Being confronted directly with their portraits reminds us that these were real individuals, and not just footnotes. They can still talk to us as colleagues through their written words. Many of their concerns and interests, especially as teachers, do speak directly to us in that way.”

John Wesley Edward Bowen

The exhibition was assembled and curated by Michele Valerie Ronnick, a distinguished professor at Wayne State University. Ronnick partnered with Akrigg as well as Ronald Charles, an associate professor in ��˾��ֱ��’s department for the study of religion to bring the exhibit to the university.

The portraits include classicists such as John Wesley Edward Bowen (1855–1933). Born into slavery in New Orleans, he graduated from New Orleans University in 1878 and later taught Greek and Latin at Central Tennessee College in Nashville.

In 1887 he became the first African American to earn a PhD at Boston University. His essay, “An Apology for the Higher Education of the Negro,” (Methodist Review, 1897) supported the study of classics. He was president of Gammon Theological Seminary in Atlanta from 1910 to 1914.

Orishatukeh Faduma (1855-1946) was born in the former British colony of Guyana where his parents lived after abduction by slavers. He was first educated by missionaries in Sierra Leone.

Orishatukeh Faduma

He earned a bachelor’s degree from Yale University’s School of Divinity in 1894 and taught Greek and Latin at Lincoln Academy in King’s Mount, N.C. and Virginia Theological Seminary in Lynchburg. He joined the American Negro Academy in 1899 and the American Philological Association the following year.

Helen Maria Chesnutt (1880–1969) was the daughter of novelist Charles Chesnutt – an American author, essayist and political activist, best known for his novels and short stories exploring complex issues of racial and social identity in the post-Civil War South.

She earned a bachelor’s degree from Smith College in 1902 and her master’s in Latin from Columbia University in 1925.

She taught Latin at Central High School in Cleveland. Her pupil, Langston Hughes, who became a celebrated poet and activist, found her inspiring. In 1932, Chesnutt co-authored The Road to Latin, a textbook that was printed several times. She also belonged to the American Philological Association from 1920 to 1934.

Helen Maria Chesnutt

“The institutional structures of classics as they developed in the nineteenth century were designed to facilitate and perpetuate the success of certain groups,” says Akrigg. “These men and women were from outside those groups and the successes they achieved came in spite of formidable obstacles.

“Most of them were teachers and they provided not only an example but often direct inspiration and encouragement to those who came in their footsteps. They played a vital role in widening access to the discipline. They also, however, remind us that that process of widening is still far from complete.”

Uncovering untold stories: ��˾��ֱ�� course explores Black Canadian history

Christopher.Sorensen — Wed, 28 Feb 2024 19:01:44 +0000

Uncovering untold stories: ��˾��ֱ�� course explores Black Canadian history

Christopher.Sorensen Wed, 02/28/2024 - 14:01

Cutline

Archival photograph of the Emanuel African Methodist Church congregation, early 1920s, in Edmonton (photo by Glenbow Archives, University of Calgary, ND-3-1199, and via the research of Jennifer R. Kelly, professor emeritus, University of Alberta, for the Edmonton City as Museum Project)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

History

St. Michael's College

Trinity College

How familiar are you with Black Canadian history?

“So many people educated in Canada, or external to Canada, don't know about the long-standing presence of Black people in this country,” says Funké Aladejebi, an assistant professor of history in the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Arts & Science.

“This breadth of knowledge on Black Canadian history often gets ignored or is not often inserted into broader courses on Canadian history.”

Determined to change this, Aladejebi is teaching a year-long course titled “Black Canadian History.” It’s part of a new Certificate in Black Canadian Studies offered through University College and open to all students in the Faculty of Arts & Science.

“Many of the students in this class come from health and science, equity studies and Indigenous studies, and a lot of them like the idea of being able to say they have specific expertise on Black Canadian studies more broadly,” says Aladejebi.

“It's trying to give students a broad overview of the movements and migrations of persons of African descent into the land that is now called Canada and thinking in complex ways about how people were living and existing in this country.”

Salt Spring Island's Central School, 1929 (photo courtesy of the Salt Spring Island Archives)

The course goes as far back as 1604, which marks the earliest records of persons of African descent in Canada. It also explores the experiences of Black Loyalists – people of African descent who sided with the British during the American Revolutionary War – passengers of the Underground Railroad, as well as lesser-known movements to the West Coast, the Prairies and Maritimes.

Funké Aladjebi (supplied image)

“We tend to forget about these regions where Black people resided in smaller numbers,” says Aladejebi. “But it's our responsibility as historians to show the breadth of where Black people have been and where they still are.”

For example, most Canadians are unfamiliar with the history of the Jamaican Maroons in Nova Scotia.

After a series of wars fighting for freedom from British control in Jamaica, more than 500 Maroons – men, women and children – were forcibly transported to Halifax in 1796.

Despite an inhospitable reception, the Maroons flourished and maintained a strong sense of community in exile, says Aladjebi, adding that they were connected to the city’s larger community, having been involved in the construction of the Halifax Citadel. However, many in the community spent years petitioning the colonial government to leave Nova Scotia, and in 1800, most of them left for the free Black colony of Sierra Leone in West Africa.

“But it’s widely believed some Maroons stayed behind and their continued presence is reflected in the surnames, accents, idioms, customs, oral histories and traditions of African Nova Scotians,” Aladejebi says.

The Halifax Citadel (photo by Ron Cogswell, CC BY 2.0)

The second half of the course dives into more contemporary issues such as racial violence, anti-Black racism, immigration trends, equity and inclusion for Black communities, and injustice in Canada.

“We never just stay in the history, we always bring it to the contemporary with these historical foundations and track why this continues to exist today,” says Aladejebi. “By the time we move through the course, students understand the roots of anti-Black racism in Canada, and they're able to navigate institutions in a clearer way.”

Aladejebi says she is intrigued by the range of emotions the students experience as she teaches the material.

“They move through emotional stages where they are surprised at first and then get frustrated because of what they didn't know,” says Aladejebi. “The Black students go through a variety of feelings, but at end of the class, they’re feeling like they know a little bit more about themselves and the experience of persons of African descent.

“Non-Black students also go through a series of emotions. They feel better equipped to talk about Black Canadian history, they’re able to better understand various social relationships that are part of Black experiences across the diaspora.”

There can be anxious moments.

“Students have to talk about, ‘What was my experience in school? What was my experience and engagement with policing and the judicial system?’ So we go through pockets where students are nervous about saying the right and wrong things.”

For many students, working through these tensions leads to knowledge and understanding.

“As a Black Canadian political science major pursuing a career as a policy analyst, the course’s material, conversations and activities are crucial to both my academic and professional development,” says Dacian Dawes, a third-year member of St. Michael’s College who is double majoring in political science and critical studies in equity and solidarity, with a minor in African studies and a certificate in Black Canadian history.

“It has increased my understanding of systemic inequalities, inspiring me to use this information to build on my political science studies and future career.”

Erinayo Adediwura Oyeladun, a second-year student in African studies and a member of Trinity College, says she has been empowered by studying the work of Black Canadian history scholars, and sees how historical understanding can be a powerful tool in creating change.

“The historians’ research teaches me the importance of situating your work as more than just an intellectual discovery. Your work should also represent your community and serve a broader purpose in making a positive impact for your community.”

For Aladejebi, teaching the course has been equally as energizing, with her students continually challenging the way she delivers – and receives – information.

“We all come with our limitations, biases and prejudices. This course is helping us to think about where they come from, why they exist, and how we can interpret them. It's about interrupting the cycles, unlearning what we thought we knew, and re-imagining something better.”

��˾��ֱ�� prof takes home award at Sundance Film Festival

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 13 Feb 2024 18:06:40 +0000

��˾��ֱ�� prof takes home award at Sundance Film Festival

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 02/13/2024 - 13:06

Cutline

Brett Story, an assistant professor at ��˾��ֱ��’s Cinema Studies Institute, says it was the first time she had a film premiere at the Sundance Film Festival (photo by Neilson Barnard/Getty Images)

Sean McNeely

Topic

City & Culture

Cinema Studies

Faculty of Arts & Science

Film

Subheadline

Brett Story co-directed Union, which follows a group of workers who successfully organize the first labour union at online retail giant Amazon

The University of Toronto’s Brett Story recently returned from the Sundance Film Festival, where the documentary she co-directed about a group of unionizing Amazon employees won the festival’s U.S. Documentary Special Jury Award for the Art of Change.

Union follows a group of current and former Amazon workers in the New York City borough of Staten Island as they attempt to organize an independent labour union at the online retail giant.

An assistant professor at the Cinema Studies Institute in the Faculty of Arts & Science, Story recently spoke to writer Sean McNeely about the film, her time at Sundance and the lessons she’s passing on to her students.

What is Union about?

Union is a documentary chronicling the organizing efforts of a group of Amazon workers in Staten Island, N.Y., who organized the first ever successful union campaign at an Amazon facility. We were there from day one and we filmed for almost three years documenting their efforts to form an independent union without institutional affiliation. When they won their election, they became the first Amazon union in America. But it’s not just a film about employees versus the employer, it’s really a film about how hard it is to organize people.

And we didn't know they were going to win. In fact, the decision to make the film – that it was worth documenting their process – was made independent of any kind of real evaluation of whether or not they had the capacity to win. It didn't seem like they could win. This was basically a small group of people outside, under a tent, who are trying to unionize a workplace that even the Teamsters deemed unsuitable.

Union, co-directed by Brett Story and Stephen Maing, won the U.S. Documentary Special Jury Award for the Art of Change at Sundance (image supplied)

How was the experience of being at Sundance?

It's got the aura of a very glamorous festival, but it takes place at a very high elevation in Park City, Utah, which is a ski town. It's very snowy – so instead of red-carpet glamour, everyone's wearing snow boots and sweaters.

But it's so exciting, especially the first weekend. There's tons of press – all the critics are in the room, all the buyers. Part of the hype around Sundance is that it’s a big market. So it's not just the prestige, it's also knowing there's an opportunity to get distribution. A lot of independent films, including my own, that go to Sundance don't have a distributor, so we don't know where anyone's going to be able to see this film outside of a festival.

The hope is that at Sundance, you can get someone to distribute it. That didn't happen for us yet. We're still waiting to see if anyone's going pick it up. It's a bit of a hot-button film. Obviously, Amazon isn't going to buy it.

But, realistically, when the media landscape is dominated by media-tech companies, one has to ask whether any of them want to touch a film about a scrappy labour movement that took on one of the world's biggest companies. We’re optimistic that someone will pick it up because it’s an exciting story and we think we did it cinematic justice in our film.

How was the screening of your movie?

Watching it with an audience was a really special, beautiful experience. People laughed and cried, and we got a big standing ovation. For me, part of the joy of making a film is watching how other people respond to it. It's then out of my own mind and into the imaginations of others.

Were participants in the movie at the screening?

Yes – not everybody, but we brought eight people. You’re not always able to do that. It's very expensive and people have complicated lives. But it was important for us. The film honours their hard work. They showed a lot of vulnerability, allowing us into their lives.

And it's only fair that the rewards of making a film – like getting applause, or having people tell you that it's amazing – don't just accrue to the filmmakers. Those should be felt by the people who are in the film.

What was your reaction to Union winning an award?

This was the first time I'd ever had a premiere at Sundance, so it was a big deal. I tend to not have expectations about these things – that keeps me from disappointment. But it's a huge honour to even be at Sundance. We only finished the film six days before the festival started.

From left to right: Brett Story and Stephen Maing hold the U.S. Documentary Special Jury Award for the Art of Change at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival (photo by Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images)

How does your filmmaking impact your teaching?

The great thing about having taught last term was that I could tell students, in real time, what I was struggling with regarding the construction of the film. At one point, we couldn’t decide on our opening and my co-director and I were having this artistic disagreement, so I could talk to them about that process and show them the different possible openings. I think it was fun for them to see me go through that and complete the film.

What’s your advice to students who are thinking of making a movie?

It's important to understand that failure is part of the process. The only way to learn how to make a film is to actually make one. If there isn't the possibility that what you try might fail, then you're not actually trying anything at all.

A lot of the exercises I'm doing in my class right now are about limitation. We just did an exercise where the students made a film but were only allowed to use one shot. Their next exercise is to make a sound film in which they're not allowed to have any images. There's something about these kinds of limitations that helps them understand the tools a little better and hopefully take risks.

One doesn’t just “become” a filmmaker overnight. It is a practice like any other and the most important thing is to not let yourself get discouraged. I got a film in Sundance and won a big award. It's huge for my career. But this is my fourth feature film and I've been making films for over 15 years. I could have given up after my first film didn't get into Sundance, but I didn't and I learned from it.

Can you show Union to your class?

Right now we're on a festival rollout. I won’t be able to have a public screening until we have a festival screening. I hope to report soon on where the film will play in Toronto. It makes a difference to watch something with a big audience, so I will probably show them scenes but will wait until the film is playing in a theatre to invite them all. And then, yes, absolutely, we will hopefully show it at Innis (College).

Classics students whip up a taste of ancient history

Christopher.Sorensen — Tue, 30 Jan 2024 13:43:52 +0000

Classics students whip up a taste of ancient history

Christopher.Sorensen Tue, 01/30/2024 - 08:43

Cutline

Students and professors ate some of the same foods ancient Greeks and Romans served at dinners thousands of years ago (photo by Teodora Mladin)

Sean McNeely

Topic

Our Community

Classics

Faculty of Arts & Science

Subheadline

From "Parthian chicken" to melitoutta, the flavours of ancient Greece and Rome took centre stage on Ancient Food Day – helping to connect students to the civilizations they study

It was a feast fit for the gods.

Professors, graduate and undergraduate students enjoyed some of the same foods ancient Greeks and Romans served at dinners thousands of years ago at Ancient Food Day, organized by the Classics Students’ Union.

“Ancient Food Day is more than just a culinary festivity,” says Teodora Mladin, president of the student union and a sixth-year student with a double major in classical civilizations and French linguistics who is a member of Trinity College.

“Food is one of the primary ways we share and retain our cultures. So, by indulging in these recipes, we momentarily taste the traditions, stories and experiences of ancient peoples.”

The Classics Students' Union held its biannual Ancient Food Day event earlier this month (photo by Teodora Mladin)

Tasting those traditions included enjoying dishes such as: “Parthian chicken,” cooked with leeks, red wine, dried dates, garlic and cumin; and parsnip fries, cooked with olive oil, honey, apple cider vinegar, cornstarch, celery seed, rosemary, pepper and fish sauce. The event’s organizers said the dishes were very popular in 224 CE.

A plate of asparagus, meanwhile, was prepared with marjoram, which, students said, tastes like smoked fish when mixed with coriander.

There were also plenty of choices for those with a sweet tooth such as enkrides – the ancient equivalent to Timbits. These fried cheese dough balls are cooked in olive oil and then covered in honey. Or there was melitoutta, which are honey cakes that resemble scones. Apparently, this was a dessert deceased souls would bring to the underworld.

Asparagus was prepared with spices to give it a fishy flavour (photo by Sean McNeely)

Attendees also enjoyed “pear patina,” frittatas made with boiled cored pears and prepared with eggs, honey, olive oil, grape juice and white wine, offering both savoury and sweet flavours.

The dishes were washed down with beverages such as “Nectar of the Gods” – a mango-nectar-based drink and a mulled pomegranate drink called “Persephone in the Underworld.” Inspired by the myth of Persephone’s abduction by Hades, its Greek description translates to “fire burning at night,” referring to its spiced quality as well as its dark, glittery colour.

The event was the culmination of weeks of preparation that included searching for original recipes, translating them and then preparing dishes as true to the originals as possible. The group also created placards for each dish that contained the original Greek recipe, the English translation and fun facts.

Each dish was accompanied by a placard with the original Greek recipe (photo by Teodora Mladin)

Izzy Friesen, a fourth-year classics and classical civilizations student, says translating recipes was an enriching experience from both a language and history perspective.

"Getting to translate recipes allowed me to engage with Latin in a different way,” says Friesen, a member of Victoria College. “It was particularly valuable for us to attempt our own translations and look for recipes that caught our eye. It’s useful and exciting for language-learners but not necessarily something we’d get to do in the classroom."

Madeleine Andrasic, a second-year student with a double major in classical languages and history, and a member of University College, also found translating the recipes to be rewarding.

“It really becomes evident that Greeks and Romans saw food in both similar and different ways to us,” says Andrasic. “So much cultural and environmental history can be revealed in these texts, [sparking] further questions about food availability and food preferences in the ancient world."

Pear patina sits next to an apricot dessert (photo by Sean McNeely)

For Tessa Delaney-Girotti, a fourth-year student with a double major in classical civilizations and archeology, preparing the dishes strengthened her connection to ancient peoples.

“It’s not only a unique experience to be able to eat the same kind of food as someone from thousands of years ago, but there’s also something about cooking those recipes, putting yourself into their shoes, that brings to mind the everyday activities of their lives,” says Delaney-Girotti, a member of University College who is vice-president of the student union.

“Most of the time we feel far removed from the people we read about, but this brings a whole new perspective.”

A serving dish of Parthian chicken beside a tray of enkrides (photo by Sean McNeely)

Mladin, too, says gathering to share a meal is a timeless human experience and organizing and hosting Ancient Food Day further connected her to the cultures she’s studying.

She added that the Classics Students' Union has seen so much interest in the recipes that it intends to create an ancient recipe blog.

“The dishes we present are an emblem of history, a testament to the cultural exchanges, advancements and the ever-evolving human story,” she says. “We are reminded of the depth and breadth of the ancient civilizations that shaped the very focus of our department."

��˾��ֱ�� 'Horror Film' course keeps students on the edge of their seats

rahul.kalvapalle — Tue, 31 Oct 2023 15:20:29 +0000

��˾��ֱ�� 'Horror Film' course keeps students on the edge of their seats

rahul.kalvapalle Tue, 10/31/2023 - 11:20

Cutline

The "Horror Film" class offered through ��˾��ֱ��’s Cinema Studies Institute examines movies spanning several decades, including early horror pictures (photos by LMPC via Getty Images, Movie Poster Image Art/Getty Images)

Topic

Faculty of Arts & Science

Subheadline

“Horror provides a structured, formal space to explore experiences like death, decay and monstrosity that may otherwise be dangerous, hidden or off-limits"

When Carrie Reese turned 10, she invited friends to her house for a sleep-over birthday party and chose a special film to mark the occasion.

Equipped with plenty of pillows to clutch and hide behind, she and her friends nervously pressed play and began watching Alfred Hitchcock’s iconic 1963 horror film, The Birds.

Carrie Reese (supplied image)

It was the beginning of a lifelong interest in scary movies that she is now sharing through her course, Horror Film, at the Faculty of Arts & Science’s Cinema Studies Institute (See a list of Reese’s picks for Halloween viewing below).

The course examines horror films through a critical thinking lens, exploring key elements such as gender and genre as well as notions of space, the home and ownership. That extends to discussing ways that horror connects to emotion and experience, and how emotions like fear and dread can be visualized.

“It's about getting students to learn through images and to understand the value in studying images,” says Reese, a sessional instructor who holds a PhD in cinema studies from ��˾��ֱ��. “Rather than talking about whether a film is good or bad, we’re critically investigating it and seeing how it helps us to understand different modes of being.”

The class studies movies spanning several decades including modern films such as Us (2019) and Candyman (1992), to classics such as Jaws (1975), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and early horror pictures such at Cat People (1942) and the original Frankenstein (1931).

(Photo by Universal History Archive/UIG via Getty images)

Reese says she loves the fact that every student’s approach, interest and reaction to horror movies is unique, and she feeds off this wide spectrum of experiences and perspectives.

“I encourage students to come to horror movies in different ways and through their own interests,” she says. “It's been rewarding to see students who maybe have never taken a cinema studies class before and are able to have their first experience with the discipline through horror.”

Part of the course requires a deep dive into the films’ stories, and the techniques and methods used to evoke a fearful response.

“One of my favorite things to look at in horror is editing,” says Reese. “If there's something that's edited in like a jump scare, why are we responding to that? Because it's put in at a time that’s not expected. So we’re breaking those things down and talking about our reactions, but also examining how this is created on screen – how there are patterns in horror that we come to expect, but nevertheless continually surprise us.”

When it comes to fearful responses, Reese sees them first-hand during her in-class screenings of the course’s movies as the crowd of students hold their breath together or sigh in relief.

“It’s absolutely delightful to engage in screenings as a community and I think it's such an important experience,” says Reese, adding that the screenings are paired with reflective discussions that follow.

“We’re looking at how these things are presented visually and stylistically, and I’m seeing firsthand the way these images have shifted ways of critically thinking about media, about emotion, and about politics.”

But why do we subject ourselves to being frightened?

(Photo by Movie Poster Image Art/Getty Images)

“This paradox, enjoying horror, has been studied in some of the canonical horror literature and it’s one of the things I had students explore in the first few weeks of the course,” says Reese.

“Horror provides a structured, formal space to explore experiences like death, decay and monstrosity that may otherwise be dangerous, hidden or off-limits. Part of the thrill is in seeing things we’re typically not supposed to see or experience. This is articulated in the ‘paradox of horror,’ or why we seek out and derive pleasure from frightening, horrific experiences, as articulated through the cinematic medium.”

Eric Kim, a second-year student and member of Woodsworth College with a double major in cinema studies and East Asian studies, says he is enjoying the class but admits he isn't a fan of horror films.

“I never really liked them growing up,” he says. “But over the past few years, I've really appreciated what directors like Jordan Peele (Nope, Us, Get Out) were doing with horror, and it made me realize what a strange blind spot it was in my understanding.

“What is it about a film that makes you want to scream in fear? I just wanted to dive into that question and confront that. And it's led to how I can start discussing my own anxieties through what I want to research in my other courses or what I create with my own stories and comics. Unknotting these emotions and finding a new creative perspective inside has been a delightful discovery.”

Addisa O’Brien Thompson, a member of Trinity College and a second-year student with a double major in cinema studies and international relations, says she adores horror films and being scared.

“I’m a fan of scary things,” she says. “Through this course, I’ve gained the ability to better analyze the variety of methods in which terror and disquiet are portrayed through film and instilled into the spectator. What I enjoy most about this course is how I have opportunities to explore the horror genre through these practical means.”

All of this analysis has inspired O’Brien Thompson to make a short film of her own for the course’s final assignment.

Similarly, Kim says he's inspired to create his own story. “It's forced me to reconsider everything I thought I understood about horror and encouraged me to start think about making one."

Six films Carrie Reese recommends for Halloween:

Ringu (dir. Hideo Nakata, 1998)

“A notorious Japanese horror film that I love for its take on the monstrosity of media. You may have seen the American remake, but the original provides a texture to its treatment of video and technology that I think is lost in the Hollywood version.”

Rec (dir. Paco Plaza, Jaume Balagueró, 2007)

“A scary, fun found-footage horror film that is a gruesome and increasingly relevant commentary on illness and quarantine.”

Raw (dir. Julia Ducournau, 2016)

“This film is known for its audience response to gore, but I promise it’s not as bad as the press makes it out to be. A coming-of-age cannibal story.”

Goodnight Mommy (dir. Veronika Franz, 2014)

“This is a film that has stuck with me for both its style and unique treatment of themes in the horror genre, including doubles, imposters, and cosmetic surgery. Worth a watch for the opening alone.”

Blood Quantum (dir. Jeff Barnaby, 2019)

“Another brilliant take on the zombie film that uses the genre to explore Indigenous heritage. The title refers to laws used to determine indigeneity. Shot in Quebec and New Brunswick.”

Nanny (dir. Nikyatu Jusu, 2022)

“This is a surrealist horror take that I have been thinking about because of the ways it so seriously and beautifully grapples with migration, work and care.”