That day I was thinking about the chores I had to do, my grocery shopping list, and when was the last time I saw my red tank top, because it was not in the wash. As I was racking my brain for any evidence of the last known location of said tank top, I thought crept in "when was the last time you called your friends"

Living 6,875 kilometres away from home, it is naturally more difficult to schedule chats with friends. My day is in full swing, while they are just waking up. It is not as simple as getting together for coffee after work, drinks on a Friday evening, or planning a weekend staycation. Our chats are relegated to moving squares on our laptops and at the mercy of a spotty Wi-Fi connection.

Like all chronic overthinkers, I have days like these, wondering if I’m a good friend. Not in the dramatic, falling-out kind of way, but in those quiet moments when I realize I haven’t replied to a message or when I scroll past a friend’s story without swiping up or dropping a reaction. Distance can make me question whether I’m showing up enough. Distance makes me realize that friendship is no longer accidental but is something that has to be nurtured, especially when it is not "convenient."

I admit I romanticized the idea of a long-distance friendship; after all, this is not the first time I have done it. I have been both a friend at home and abroad. No matter the position, I feel as though my friends are living entire chapters of their lives while I only get the Sparknotes. Adulthood is strange that way. As a child or adolescent, you feel as though you are a main character in the lives of your friends. The setting rarely changes, and the plot is rather linear. But as people move on and move away, the story becomes more complex.

I huge part of my identity, especially as a child, was being a good friend. Was I kind enough? Loyal enough? Attentive enough? Did my friend feel like I was making an effort? Did my friend feel comfortable telling me the truth about something? As much as I have changed over the years, this is still very much an important value for me and something I can be quite hard on myself about.

The text message I received later that day could not have come at a better time. It is said your best friend knows you better than you know yourself, and it was like her spidey-senses were tingling that we were overdue for a catch-up.

After 3 hours of talking and 3000 topics of conversation (because staying on track was never something we claimed to be good at), I packed it in for the night. Mouth dry, heart full, and head full of thoughts to share at our next de-brief, I realized that being a good friend does not mean constant communication. It is about making your friend feel that they are as much a part of your journey now as they were before the distance occurred. It is about making them feel seen, supported, and valued even from afar.

So if you have been suffering from long-distance friendship guilt, here are a few pieces of advice that may help.

1. Little check-ins: send a 'thinking of you text', a photo that made you think of them, or a random voice note (my Canadian friends hate to see me coming with a voice note).

2. Share the mundane, and not just the milestones: Texting when something BIG is happening is nice, but don't forget the small stuff. At times, I share my outfits, my lunch, a photo of me studying, or venting about something on my mind

3. Create a ritual: This can be tough with people's changing schedules, but it can be nice to look forward to a call every Sunday or know a weekly video message is coming your way.

4. Let's rant about it: my friends and I love sending memes, markers of pop culture controversy or anything that could generate a stimulating conversation. I look forward to hearing my friends' opinions on the world's happenings.

5. Be patient: some weeks will be busy, and life can be a lot. It is not about how many texts or how long you have gone since your last call. Be understanding of each other's schedules and enjoy the time you do carve out.

My friendships feel fragile because of distance. In reality, it forces me to be deliberate. Sending that reel, that message, that voice note is a reminder of how important that person is in my life. We talk a lot about romantic long-distance relationships, but there is very little advice about how to handle the feelings that come with being a long-distance friend. So, if you're an hour away or a time zone away, take this as your sign to give your friend a call. They miss you.

The year is 2018, I just wrapped up my first semester of university and was home for the holidays. With nothing better to do than eat copious amounts of panettone and mentally prepare myself for the semester ahead, I decided to watch the World Juniors.

For many, the IIHF World Junior Hockey Championship is appointment television. An annual international hockey championship, first held in 1977. Players (under 20) from ten countries compete for the title and showcase their talent. It has been the stage for career-making performances, where some of the best National Hockey League (NHL) players have been recognized. To this day, Canada has won gold 20 times (more than any other nation), and it's no surprise the team consistently performs well. It is, of course, the country’s national winter sport.

Canada beat Sweden 3-1.

Another championship, another year of bragging rights, another bit of proof that Hockey Canada stands as the Goliath of the sport. A towering institution, armoured in national pride. But even Goliath has a weak spot, and in 2022 it wasn't a slingshot that pierced the armour.

The backstory

TSN journalist Rick Westhead reported in May 2022 that Hockey Canada had settled a lawsuit filed by a woman, alleging she was sexually assaulted after a fundraising gala in London, Ontario, by 8 members of the Canadian World Junior hockey team.1 The report released information that part of the settlement funds was sourced from player registration fees, thus sparking public outcry.

The alleged incident occurred in June 2018, but the investigation was closed in 2019 without any charges being filed. The lawsuit, which was filed in April 2022, led to the reopening of the inquiry in January 2024.2 Flashforward to today, and unless you have been hiding under a rock, you would be hard pressed to find anyone in Canada who has not been following (even loosely) the trial that started in April 2025.

The trial has wrapped up, but the verdict is set to be delivered at the end of July. While the details (and the shambolic series of events known as the judicial proceedings) initially caught my attention, what I consider to be of greater interest is something broader, harder to quantify, but no less palpable: a hockey culture that too often excuses, shields, and at times, glorifies harmful behaviour.

Disappointed does not even begin to describe how I feel when I read comments under news articles about the case, but I can't say I am shocked. Jokes about group sex, accusations of a "money-hungry" accused, and reducing the allegations to "bad judgments" or "a young person’s mistake". Many openly mourned the careers of young men whose talent, in their eyes, outweighs accountability. Everyone has an opinion, which is to be expected, but what is most alarming is that the concern is not the harm that was done, but whether their favourite sport would be inconvenienced.

I did not come from a hockey family; embarrassingly enough, I never even learned how to skate. However, I grew up in THE hockey town. Brantford, Ontario, is the birthplace of hockey legend Wayne Gretzky, aka 'The Great One'. With roads, sports complexes, tournaments, and even a school sporting the last name. There is no denying both the impact and presence the sport has in the city of just under 110,000 inhabitants. Like most small(er) towns in Canada, hockey is a religion, and players are worshiped like saints.

But I think this gave me a unique perspective on hockey culture. I observed how deeply embedded it was into the lives of those around me, but never really being involved myself. Always in proximity but never immersed. Watching from the bench but never making it onto the ice.

Power plays and privilege

Even before the term ‘rape culture’ entered my vocabulary, I saw evidence of what has been described by sociologist Michael Kimmel as aggrieved entitlement. It refers to “the sense that one has been wronged or denied something that is rightfully theirs, leading to anger and attempts to reassert dominance”.3 With a culture built on winning, toughness, and male dominance, these values can normalize aggressive behaviour. This entitlement does not just exist on the individual level, but also with coaches and parents who are heavily invested, financially and emotionally, in the development of the player.

The term “hockey dad,” used to describe a father heavily involved in his child’s ice hockey experience, was generally seen as positive. However, the meaning has shifted; I have heard people use it to describe parents who place an intense amount of pressure on their children, prioritize success over values, and vicariously live their elite sport dreams through their child. These secondary members of the hockey community subtly reinforce entitlement, such as minimizing harmful behaviour and prioritizing performance over empathy. I have seen firsthand how this shapes the behaviours of the peers around me, impacts friendships, and also behaviour in adulthood.

Elements of hockey culture, such as the “hockey dad,” were something I always observed but never had the displeasure of experiencing. Beyond that, I witnessed the entitlement in action. Growing up, it was not uncommon for different rules to apply to different people because of their athletic prowess. At its best, it’s simply favouritism; at its worst, those in power turned a blind eye to harmful behaviour such as bullying and sexual harassment. When it came to sexual harassment, I thought the answer was as simple as chalking it up to the patriarchy. However, what I consistently missed is the social dynamic of the sport, its impact on behaviour, and how it is learned.

The book titled Skating on Thin Ice: Professional Hockey, Rape Culture & Violence Against Women4 discusses male peer support theory (MPS). MPS ironically has deep roots in Canada, as it was first developed by PhD student Walter DeKeseredy at York University.5 The theory emphasizes that men’s violence against women is also shaped by the specific social and relational settings in which these men move, not just focusing on patriarchal society as a whole.6 The attachment to male peer groups that perpetually reinforce standards of gratification through dominance encourages other men to engage in this behaviour.

Sex-segregated

According to Laura Robinson, hockey is a sex-segregated environment where men spend most of their time in all-male spaces.7 Locker rooms, buses, Delta Hotels, and private team activities are all spaces where women’s voices are lacking and harmful views of masculinity are encouraged. A former college athlete expressed in a 2004 research interview when discussing his teammates,

“They treat women like objects – sexual objects. They talk about them as if they aren’t there, as if [the athletes] were in the locker room talking ... and don’t care what they say at all because they think they’re still going to have sex or whatever. Things like that machismo group mentality, that locker room mentality, come out in off-ice behaviour... treating women really bad ... like one-nighters or short-term girlfriends or someone they didn’t care very much, just as objects or sex partners.”8

Reading this quote makes me wonder, how many of these conversations are had at my local ice rink or high school locker room? This mentality mirrors evidence in the 2018 Hockey Canada scandal, the group’s behaviour displays peer-enforced masculinity where sexual conquest becomes a performance of manhood and acceptance/validation by the group.

Looking at language

Despite never playing hockey, the lingo has inevitably leaked into my vocabulary (and the vocabulary of greater Canadian culture). Like any subculture, what you wear, how you style your hair, and how you talk shape the identity of who is “in” and who is “out”. Words like “chirp” for trash talk, “the Show” to describe the NHL, and “beaut” to describe a great player/person are all a part of the Canadian lexicon. But there is also evidence of pervasive misogynist language. The term “puck bunnies” describes women who are not authentically dedicated to the game but are only interested in having sex with players.9 This kind of lingo, coupled with “locker room talk,” serves as a kind of bonding ritual to build group solidarity and trivialize violence against women.

the “Sauce”

Another large part of the subculture is the presence of alcohol. Keeping on the topic of language, alcohol is often referred to as “the Sauce”. Alcohol was a player in the events that transpired in London, Ontario; a major point for both the prosecution and defence in the trial. It is a staple in male social networks10 , and researchers who specialize in MPS found that alcohol abuse is a major factor in peer group processes related to violence against women.11 It is often used in all-male social contexts that support patriarchal conversations about women’s sexuality and how to control it. Throughout the decades, many NHL teams have been faced with scandals of players abusing women, with alcohol being a factor (Milan Lucic, Semyon Varlamov, and Slava Voynov, just to name a few).

It’s not uncommon in towns with OHL teams (a major junior ice hockey league in the province of Ontario) that players are praised, drinks are ‘on the house,’ and they become minor celebrities. Initially, most would take no issue with that. These players have achieved a great opportunity, one step closer to their dream. On the other hand, it is an example of what underlines the nature of hockey culture and its relationship with alcohol. Women are usually excluded from these social events, and some argue that female exclusion fuels subculture solidarity.12

Alcohol as a part of the subculture sparks a memory from my first few years of uni. “Saturday is for the Boys,” or “ferda” for short, is a phrase commonly used by players and fans in the subculture. The latter, popularized by the TV show Letterkenny and the former being trademarked by Barstool Sports. I recall it was plastered all over dorm rooms, hats, t-shirts, and stickers on laptops in my 9 a.m. sociology lecture (oh the irony). This is a perfect summarization of subculture language, drinking culture, and the absence of women, all the factors of MPS examining hockey culture.

Your secret is safe with me

Lastly, peer loyalty and secrecy in the hockey world could be the largest issue to tackle. Why is secrecy so important? Well, because “group secrecy keeps men from revealing the deviant behaviour of their teammates to ‘outsiders.’13

This can be seen directly in the events of the evening in London, Ontario. Witnesses were called to the stand to testify as to why they did not participate in the events, if they told anyone or why they kept it a secret. This secrecy is a part of the patriarchal male culture of protection, and a code of silence is seen as a form of team loyalty. It’s intended to protect not only your teammates as friends, but also on an institutional level, to protect an investment. Protecting the financial interests of the individual and the teams they work for may come at the cost of doing the right thing.

In the Hockey Canada scandal, group chat text messages reveal secrecy and collaboration in action, with one message reading, “We all need to say the same thing if we get interviewed,” “Can’t have different stories or make anything up.”14 It is important to note that this text message was not admitted into evidence. I could write a whole paper on the problems of the trial, starting with just the jury dismissal or how I think it was a prime example of over-lawyering. However, what is not disputed is that the message was sent, and from a sociological perspective, it provides evidence of the importance of group alliance.

Breakaway culture

Since 1989, Hockey Canada has settled twenty-one sexual misconduct claims, totalling CAD$8.9 million. Nine of the victims were paid through Hockey Canada’s National Equity Fund, which is partially funded by membership fees paid by the families of children entering the sport.15 The Montreal Gazette reported that the victim of the alleged 2018 gang sexual assault, settled for “[CAD]$3.55-million lawsuit and buy her silence on behalf of her assailants”.16 A small price to pay when the organization is worth $98.5 million as of June 2022.17

However, it is my hope that hockey is amid a reckoning, a TSN Turning Point if you will… and it is much needed. In a sport seen as imparting positive values like hard work, teamwork, and dedication, I would like to see some of those values reflected in remedying the issue of violence against women and a system that encourages it. Defenders of hockey culture argue that these scandals are caused by a “few bad apples” rather than the sport itself, pointing to the positive values of the sport. While these values exist, MPS theory reveals that the same peer bonds that create team unity can also enforce silence and protect harmful behaviour. The Hockey Canada case demonstrates that when loyalty is prioritized over accountability, the entire culture bears responsibility. Hockey is not just a sport; it’s a social institution that holds a mirror to Canadian society and what we choose to tolerate.

These are discussions that have been had across the pond when it comes to football/soccer culture, but maybe we Canadians are a bit too “polite” to admit that similar problems come with our beloved pastime. Maybe after this case, hockey’s bubble has officially “popped”, although I admittedly said the same thing after Don Cherry’s fall from grace.

No matter what the verdict is (frankly, I am losing faith in the justice system by the day), you cannot deny that this case sheds light on a deeper systemic issue within hockey culture. It comes as no surprise to me that some people reading this will jump to defend the sports culture, and to that I say, I think they are precisely the problem. Because, unlike them, I won’t accept this as "just a part of the game”.

The teacher drops the books on each student's desk. Inside the front cover is a piece of cardstock that sits snugly in an off-white envelope. Pulling the lined card from the pocket, I look at the names of those in years past, like some kind of guest book. But instead of it being for something as monumental as a wedding, it’s confirmation that those before me indeed survived the course in previous years.

If you’re lucky, someone will have forgotten to remove their notes from years past or left faint scribbles in pencil, like little cheat codes. Sorta like Harry Potter’s potions textbook- it will leave you feeling as lucky as any Felix Felicis serum.

The vast majority of students will simply skim through chapters, bum notes from friends or head to Sparknotes (maybe I am aging myself, but it was a time before Chatgpt).

Some will fill the pages of those books with sticky tabs, pencilled notes in the margins or mountains of Post-its, some will never even crack them open.

The latter is precisely the problem.

If you are shocked every time you turn on the news, read a headline over your morning coffee or find yourself generally in a state of distress due to the global state of affairs; I remind you that many of the warning signs on how we got here draw a striking resemblance to the stories listed on your high school reading list.

Discussions around academic freedom, access to information and what many are calling the "Education Industrial Complex" are permeating the minds of many in light of the current political climate. PEN America’s Index of School Book Bans provides a list of books banned in school districts across the USA. On their website, they describe their mission as standing at the "intersection of literature and human rights to protect free expression in the United States and worldwide…Our mission is to unite writers and their allies to celebrate creative expression and defend the liberties that make it possible."

Some of the books listed on the index in 2023-2024 were A Clockwork Orange, Slaughterhouse Five, Kite Runner, and A Handmaid's Tale. These are all books I recall being on my school's reading list. It’s well known and well-documented that book banning has been used throughout history as a form of censorship. But when discussed, I always get the feeling that it is seen as something of the past, even though it‘s being used as a tool in the present day. It is also usually framed as a tool used by oppressive regimes, despite the risk of censorship that can and does exist in liberal democracies. But that is a topic for another time.

Today, I focus on what I view as a growing problem of anti-intellectualism and its connection to academic disengagement.

In the 1950’s anti-intellectualism was high in the USA, part and parcel to McCarthyism. McCarthyism was named after Senator Joseph McCarthy, who led a campaign to expose supposed communists in government, media, and other influential institutions. It is known for its aggressive accusations, lack of proper evidence, and fear-mongering. These cultural tones led to author Richard Hofstadter's book Anti-Intellectualism in American Life (1963). In his work, Hofstadter defines anti-intellectualism as "a resentment and suspicion of the life of the mind and of those who are considered to represent it; and a disposition to constantly minimize the value of that life." (Hoftstadter, 1963)

Life of the mind refers to the ability to think critically about problems, draw conclusions and propose solutions. Those that represent the “life of mind” usually pursue careers as artists, teachers, scholars etc. In a recent article published by Rohland and Lyndsey, they summarize Hofstadter’s philosophy- “anti-intellectualism does not steadily increase or decrease over time. Rather, it fluctuates, rising and falling in response to social conditions”. Looking at today’s social conditions, I would say we are on a steady rise.

I believe that anti-intellectualism breeds the perfect environment for academic disengagement. The two feed off each other like some sort of distorted life cycle.

Embarrassing for me to admit as a student, I looked forward to the point in the semester when the teacher assigned novel studies and shared new literature with us. Equally as embarrassing was admitting that English was consistently one of my favourite subjects to take. The subject was and is seen as “uncool”, “pretentious”, I even remember hearing to word “useless”. Interests in intellectual practices such as literature, philosophy, or political science are met with opposition for various reasons, most of which is being fed by anti-intellectualism.

The word “useless” may be seen as a haphazard disregard for the subject, but to me it goes much deeper. As we see schools push STEM careers, the humanities are inevitably ranked lower. The value is increasingly placed on the pursuit of knowledge to teach people to work in a particular occupation, becoming less concerned about encouraging critical-thinking skills or the lifelong pursuit of knowledge for the sake of learning. While on the surface, this may seem harmless or simply a cultural shift in a technologically advanced society, I think it’s a warning sign that anti-intellectualism is gaining traction.

I keep hearing from teachers that this generation of students lacks the skills and motivation to meet academic targets. Some have said there has been a steady decline over the decades regarding students’ dedication and capacity to perform academic tasks. People definitely said this about my year in school so it’s only natural I say the same about this new generation, but also because it is true.

Anecdotally, it is getting harder to engage students when you’re competing with social media. In a time where we rely heavily on technology to do the bulk of the “heavy lifting”, it’s no wonder students use these tools to perform and also distract themselves. One of the biggest ways academic disengagement can be seen is in aliteracy (not to be mistaken with illiteracy; another equally important problem).

Aliteracy is where students can read but rather they choose not to. Usually, because they find no value in what they are assigned to analyze. Some blame teachers or the curriculum for this, and it would be remiss if I did not appreciate the merits of this argument. But even the most dedicated, passionate, and creative teacher struggles to compete with the overwhelming negativity surrounding the subject and its place in society. Constantly defending its relevance and importance is both frustrating and exhausting, especially when there are few allies where students are absorbing most of their information online.

It is my opinion that students have little interest in engaging with these materials because the rise of anti-intellectualism is strengthened by technology and media personalities who devalue intellectual effort.

Academic disengagement is both a symptom and a part of the virus that is anti-intellectualism.

As I get older it becomes increasingly more clear how important those novels and stories were to consume at an age where many of us are developing our autonomy and being confronted with the realities of the world we live in. For many, the messages in those novels may have gone over our heads at time. I remember vividly sitting in front of the classroom computer; crash-out pending because I was having a hard time formulating my thoughts on Fahrenheit 451.

I knew what Ray Bradbury was saying was important, but I couldn't quite grasp the depths of his thesis at the age of 16. I recall many conversations with my English teacher about the nuances of the text, and became increasingly more frustrated at my intellectual limitations. It was not until my first year of university that I had a light bulb moment (an occasion my teacher mentioned would come), and the whole novel made sense.

Fahrenheit 451, a story about censorship, conformity, anti-intellectualism and the control of information, was not a topic I was particularly well-versed in as an adolescent. But by reading it at that age, it planted a seed.

In Bradbury's dystopian society, books are burned to suppress dissenting ideas; according the PEN America, book bans are on the rise. Particularly, materials about race, gender, and historical oppression.

My light bulb moment was realizing that it wasn't just about government censorship but about people silencing themselves to avoid offence. The bottom-up approach of those who demand the removal of content or pre-emptive censorship leaves us in a society where it is difficult to express thought-provoking discourse.

I want to make it clear; this is NOT a left or right issue. Historically, both sides of the political spectrum have used this rhetoric to push a divisive agenda and shut down challenging voices. Bradbury warns of a society, no matter the political affiliation, that favours comfort over truth.

Growing up in the era of the smartphone makes it easy to distract yourself. Mindless entertainment comes in the form of algorithm-driven entertainment. These sources are similar to the parlour walls and seashells (earbuds) citizens of Bradbury's novel use for amusement. Reading is no longer a form of entertainment in Fahrenheit and dare I say, as our attention spans shrink, it's becoming less favoured in modern times as well. Anti-intellectualism comes in the form of firemen who view thinking as dangerous, similar to how scientists are distrusted and nuanced issues are reduced to slogans. Not to mention themes of misinformation, propaganda and political apathy.

Reflecting on the other works I read in school I saw themes of tribalism and power struggle in Lord of the Flies, which mirrors the ”us vs them” mentalities in a polarized political climate. Lust for power in Macbeth parallels the erosion of democratic institutions for personal legacy. Even the illusion of the American dream and class division of The Great Gatsby rings true in the 2020s as much as it did in the 1920s. All these books were assigned reading when I was in school and they continue to leave a lasting impression on the way I look at the world.

Reading the snarky comments below every reel (and I do mean EVERY reel has at least one) can be exhausting. Picking up longer form content that requires a bit of analysis could be healing in a world where we are consistently being TOLD what to think, as opposed to being ENCOURAGED to think. Those skills you learned in school may seem “useless” on the surface, but they help you become an informed reader.

The point is that you should have read those books in English class because, beyond learning literary devices and grammatical rules, the books contain rich themes, thought-provoking commentary, and a space to grapple with hard questions in fictional settings. Many of those same questions have and will be posed to us in our lifetime. This can help you make sense of the current global crises or maybe even a personal one. In my opinion, it was never cool to hate reading, but I will give you a pass for not completing your chapter summaries. If anything, it is okay to admit there were times you were disengaged. Maybe there were concepts you did not see as relevant, or maybe you could not quite make sense of it all. To me, this is all somewhat excusable in adolescents. Less so in adulthood.

Bibliography

Hofstadter, Richard. Anti-intellectualism in American Life. Vintage Books, 1963.

PEN America. Index of School Book Bans – 2023–2024. https://pen.org/book-bans/pen-america-index-of-school-book-bans-2023-2024/.

This is a very very late post (what can I say, I am a procrastinator in all aspects of my life - at least I am consistent). It’s already well into April but I still wanted to document my how march treated me.

travelling

During my break from school, I visited a friend I made on my Erasmus living in Paris. The last time I visited Paris, I was 17 and on a March break trip with my high school's modern language department. I was overdue for a trip as there were many things I wanted to check off my bucket list.

Paris gets a bad rap; people say it’s dirty, the people are unfriendly, and it is overrated. However, I found people to be lovely. In a city of 2.1 million it will be a bit dirty, but it was nothing major, and maybe you people need to realize that the city has more to offer than the Eiffel Tower. Of course it helped I had a personal guide to show me around her favourite spot but I solo travelled for 2 days around the city while my friend went to work.

Here are some of the places I visited

1. Maison de Victor Hugo- a bucket list thing for me

2. Parc des Buttes Chaumont- Paris has so many parks, so I made it a daily mission to visit each one I walked past

3. Garden of Luxembourg- I sat here and read my book while soaking up the sun

4. Musée de l'Orangerie- Monet’s Water Lillies

5. The Abby Bookstore- an English bookstore full of new and used books

6. Belleville- a neighbourhood in Paris (border of of the 19th and 20th)

wearing

Spring is coming in Bologna which means I am wearing flats! I love my Flabelus, a stunning blue colour that really goes with anything

Better weather also means its t-shirt time (cue the Jersey Shore reference). I travelled to France in the Spice girls t-shirt that I kinda forgot I had but it make me feel kinda nostalgic when I wear it.

Lastly, coloured tights. I step foot on European soil, and my first stop is Calzadonia. I have all different colours, including the merlot-coloured one pictured in the photograph. I also own green, yellow and grey. They are perfect for the in-between weather when you want to wear a skirt but its not warm enough to go bare legs.

eating and drinking

it was a month of eats, and i would like to think Anthony Bourdain would approve.

1. Brunch: I had prepared a brunch for some of my friends. Made some homemade pancakes, with Canadian maple syrup of course. It was really special to share a bit of home with friends.

2. Chinotto, a popular Italian drink from the citrus tree (Myrtle-leaved orange tree) has been my go-to. It is not for everyone as some say it can be a bit bitter. It is a great non-alcoholic beverage option and I actually prefer it to coke. You can find it an Italian specialty stores or order next time you're on vacation.

3. During my trip to Paris; my friend took me on a food tour through the neighbourhood of Belleville. We ate at this great Tunisian restaurant (don’t let the name Di Napoli fool you, it’s not Italian food) and at Best Tofu.

4. Poutine: on the note of missing home, I couldn’t pass up getting poutine when I saw it in Paris

5. Mint Tea: At La Mousquee de Paris was a nice rest after walking around the city for a bit. They also had excellent pastries and desserts. Such a beautiful place to chat. The best part is even though it’s in the city, the way the cafe is built makes it feel like you are tucked away somewhere quiet.

watching

Honestly, I have been on a huge Law and Order: SVU binge since October. Slowly making my way through every season since 1999. Can I also just say Mariska Hargitay’s haircuts throughout the years are iconic.

reading

I have stopped and started this book since December but finally I have committed to finishing it. In 2025 my goal is to read more non-fiction and memoirs I think are a good way to introduce non-fiction to my bookshelf. It documents Patti Smith relationship with artist Robert Mapplethorpe. I will be honest, I had no clue who these people were before picking up the book and I think that makes reading it more interesting. Usually memoirs are supposed to entice people who know who the author is (or who the subject is). Instead I went in blind and I have been enjoying it. Stop and starting this book was mostly due to the fact that I have other commitments and not speaking to the quality of the book.

texting

Every once in a while I get a wildly out of character idea and in those moments I appreciate friends who can keep me in check. This was the only correct response.

My parents sent me to Montessori school before the start of kindergarten. Almost every day, they would drop me off at the foot of the driveway of a small home in a quiet cul-de-sac. My teacher, a tall woman with beautiful thick black hair, would greet me with a smile and a gentle voice.

Every day, we followed the same schedule: carpet time, centers, snack, reading, lessons, lunch, centers, playtime, and home time. I think this is where my love affair with school started: the structure, the rewarding feeling I got when I learned something new, and socializing with peers.

Every day during centre kids would rush to grab the best activity; I loved reading so therefore I did not have to fight for library time very often. Once we selected an exercise, each of us would roll out our pastel pink and green striped mat and play independently or in a small group. While on the surface it looked like “playing”, I learned a lot. Drawing my letters in the sandbox, using number rods to count, sensory games to learn adjectives, puzzles of the world, sorting games- what you would expect from Montessori school.

One day after I had completed my puzzle, the teacher had signalled it was time to clean up and prepare for a snack. I hurried to clean up my things. In the chaos, I sloppily rolled my mat, threw the pieces of the puzzle in the box haphazardly, and stomped my feet to the kitchen where my friends had begun to eat.

The disapproving voice of my teacher rang out “Donatella, we are not bulls in a china shop”.

I remember being confused about the phrase- to me, China was the name of a country. Was it a shop that sold Chinese ingredients for cooking, and why would there be a bull in there? Whatever the meaning behind it was, it couldn’t have been a good thing.

I later came to find out, she was referring to a store that sold fine China dishware, but that’s beside the point. My teacher made me go back and re-roll the mat, fix the puzzle box, and walk slowly to the kitchen.

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I must admit, before starting school I could be a pretty rambunctious child. I was loud, a bit messy, talked too much and listened less. So the sentiment of the phrase was highly accurate; I needed to stop and act accordingly based on the setting.

While in this moment, the criticism was justified -

I remember thinking of myself as someone with a “bull in a china shop” personality. In my house, the volume never went below an 8/10, large family gatherings meant talking over one another to get a word in, and physical attributes connected to my current feeling (crossed arms when pouting or talking with my hands) were and still are my go-to when expressing my emotions. I guess one could say, I didn’t know anything different than a bull in a china shop approach. While some of my peers came from quieter families or less expressive ones; my parents encouraged both me and my sibling to be lively, passionate, and vocal.

So I wonder, is being a bull in a china shop always a bad thing?

It is usually used to describe someone clumsy, reckless, or disruptive. It implies a lack of care or finesse, often leading to chaos. A phrase to describe someone too much, too forceful, too disruptive to a delicate environment.

As a teenager (and still as an adult), I was a passionate talker, highly opinionated, and never one to shy from a debate. I was the student who raised their hand too much in class and always had a follow-up question or a counter-point. Reactions varied- some teachers loved it, others not so much. I imagine my peers were not always so thrilled but that is how I engaged with the world; intensely, fully and without hesitation.

As an act of reframing the initial definition of the phrase, I think it can describe someone who is bold, decisive, and willing to put themselves out there - especially in a stagnant or overly cautious environment. The bull in the china shop approach can lead to progress. Think of an entrepreneur who looks to disrupt an industry with a new invention or a coach who is willing to implore new methods to invigorate a struggling team.

My bull in a china shop ways has allowed me to explore new opportunities. I moved away at 18 to study at a school where I did not know anyone, packed my bags and moved to another country, tried new jobs in various fields and took risks (calculated ones, but they were risks). I navigated unfamiliar cities and people, to ultimately become acquainted with the unfamiliar parts of myself.

The Bull as a Symbol

The irony is not lost on me, I was born in May under the sign of the Taurus. Although I don’t particularly believe in astrology, I can’t help but think that the bull is a motif in my life. I am drawn to collecting jewellery with the sign of the Taurus and as a child, I had artwork based on my astrological sign in my room. Last week I had many probing questions for a friend who is well-versed in the area of astrology and crystals. My curiosity about the symbol has always been and continues to be present.

The bull is a symbol of strength and power. We grab it by the horns to display authority over situations, we wave a red flag in its face to show fearlessness. We let them loose in streets or rice fields to “reveal how robust the connection between harnessing the strength of a bull and projecting one’s indomitability continues to be” (Grovier, 2017)

All over the world and for centuries the symbol of the bull is present in the lives of people. Seen as a force of nature, a deity in some religions (the sacred bull of Shiva), or a symbol of big business.

I remember the first time my Dad explained to me the “Charging Bull” symbol of the US stock market. One of the most popular sights in New York City, the bronze statue stands as the perfect photo-op for tourists on Wall Street and the great motivator for finance bros. Sculpted by Italian-American artist Arturo Di Modica. In the 70’s he moved to New York and began working on the bull after the 1987 stock market crash- “Di Modica felt he owed something to Americans for accepting him all those years earlier and supporting his career as a sculptor” (Hammond). He paid $360,000 of his own money to build the Charging Bull to inspire people to push through hard times and celebrate persistence.

I’ve come to believe that the world needs bulls in china shops. The traditional interpretation of the phrase suggests destruction or a lack of grace. But what if we shift our thinking? What if being a bull in a china shop isn’t about breaking things, but about breaking through them? Through trepidation, through stagnation, through the status quo?

Some of the most influential people in history could be described as bulls in china shops. Think of the artists, writers, activists, and entrepreneurs who refused to tiptoe around convention. They weren’t always careful, and they certainly weren’t quiet. Disrupting fragile systems that need to be shaken requires making noise, taking up space, and refusing to apologize for their presence.

I can’t deny there’s a time and place for delicacy and that my teacher had a valid point in asking me to fix the mess I made. Not every situation calls for charging ahead in full force. But far more often than we think, the world benefits from those who dare to push forward without waiting for permission.

So, if you’ve ever been told you’re too loud, too opinionated, too much; maybe you’re exactly what’s needed. Maybe you’re not here to preserve the china shop. Maybe you’re here to make room for something new.

Bibliography

Grovier, Kelly. "How the Bull Became a Powerful Symbol in Our Culture." BBC Culture. Published March 3, 2017. Accessed March 27, 2025. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20170303-how-the-animal-became-a-powerful-symbol-in-our-culture.

Hammond, Gabriella. "History of the Charging Bull (and How To See It)." The Wall Street Experience. Accessed March 27, 2025. https://www.thewallstreetexperience.com/blog/story-behind-legendary-charging-bull/.

For university-bound students, it's the place where you can almost guarantee being asked- "So what will you study?"

It’s a question that can be posed by anyone but usually falls on the tongue of a 50-something-year-old family friend or relative you rarely see. He works in accounting, sales, or some other obscure industry you are vaguely familiar with.

The feeling of anxiety and the pre-rehearsed speech describing your plan (followed by your justification) is something those who choose to study liberal arts are all too familiar with.

Communications, sociology, psychology, and political science are often met with very different reactions in these conversations than someone who says something in science or engineering.

In 2018 I started my undergrad, a BA in legal studies. Embarking on 4 and 1/2 years of copious amounts of reading, sleepless nights, essay writing, and a few too many crash-out phone calls to Mom and Dad. I attended what some would describe as a “liberal arts” school. Situated in the capital, it was the first time I felt that what I wanted to study was valued and encouraged. That was a huge benefit, but like many students who studied what I did, we can’t help but feel a sorta inferiority complex.

So, what is a liberal arts degree?

Liberal arts come from the Latin word 'Liberales' meaning 'free' and 'Artes' meaning 'art or principled practice' (Warwick University 2025). It is fair to say that the modern rendition of these degrees does not practice the original version of the liberal arts. Over time it has progressed to meet our needs and a changing societal framework, the very framework these area of studies analyse. However, I argue the spirit of education is the same. The original 7 subjects were the trivium of humanities (grammar, logic, and rhetoric) and the ‘scientific’ quadrivium (astronomy/astrology, music, geometry, and arithmetic) (Warwick University 2025). Today these 7 subjects come in the form of philosophy, economics, sociology, literature, history, environmental studies etc.. that first-year students in liberal arts usually have electives in.

In these courses, students learn a large variety of topics from all the varying disciplines, while learning how to find reputable research, look for gaps in the literature, and understand how one issue has a broad range of implications and an even broader range of opinions.

For example; a student in legal studies, like myself, could take a course called environmental law. Aside from the obvious area of focus being the current legislation (national and international)/ jurisprudence on environmental protection- we also look at what groups are impacted the most by the environment (sociology), what has happened in the past that informs these current policies (history), how the problem differs place by place (geopolitics), what are the economic factors considered or ignored by the policy (economics), or what discourse ensued between lawmakers or theorist (political science). This is just to name a few, and I did not even touch on the fact that studying something such as environmental law most definitely has branches in STEM.

“Jack of all trades is a master of none”

A liberal arts student is trained to be a well-rounded student; to not let any stone be left unturned. As a result, what they choose to do for work in the future is rather flexible. It is often implied that flexibility means that the student only has surface-level knowledge of the topic, but it's simply not true.

The skills developed, such as being able to consume large amounts of information quickly and pull out the key points, strong writing skills, oral advocacy, and emphasis on making links between concepts that may be overlooked. Understanding the "landscape" around a topic makes for someone who has a nuanced understanding, with the capability to be an expert on a variety of topics if they so choose.

We all heard the quote "A jack of all trades is a master of none" (thank you, William Shakespeare). But spoiler! It’s taken out of context, and as a liberal arts student, it's my job to dig a little deeper and provide you with the whole quote.

"A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one" and I think it speaks to my point exactly.

The misquoted version has been used to encourage students to narrow in on a subject under the impression that being heavily specialized will equal higher qualification. While this is true for someone pursuing a master's or a PhD, at the bachelor's level I think is counterproductive. By learning about a diverse variety of topics, you build connections between disciplines and discover new solutions and a deeper understanding of problems. Those who study liberal arts are usually aware that the world does not operate in black and white; rather circumstances (historical, sociological, political, psychological etc.) are as complex as the humans who are experiencing it.

In my own experience...

I consider what I studied in the category of liberal arts. The focus was law, but my electives were diverse. It allowed me to pursue my passion for languages, my interests in literature, and the connection between political theory and law, and gave birth to unique research questions. Overall, I feel like a well-rounded student.

This flexibility may not appear very "sexy" due to the lack of concreteness in a student's career plan, but I argue that when we are 18 choosing what to study we know very little about the jobs that are out there anyway. It is only at school do we begin to get a bigger picture of different kinds of careers that may have been overlooked or not considered by your high school guidance counsellor. Many people change their career paths.

According to the Labor Department's Bureau of Labor Statistics, "many Americans who went to school for a specific major do not utilize that major at work. 21% use all of their education, 53% use half or less of the education, and 15% use none of their education in their current job" (Apollo Technical 2024). With all this being considered, maybe the flexibility of a liberal arts degree has its upsides.

What about the real world?

Telling people I liked law most definitely sits on the higher end of prestige in comparison to the aforementioned areas of study but I was still consistently reminded that I "couldn't get a real job" after my degree and that I "would need to do more schooling" once it was done.

This was in juxtaposition to what was being told to my peers in STEM; that they could land a job after undergrad because they chose the practical or valued option. But frankly, this was a lie. The hard truth is that academic inflation is affecting us all, and the idea that studying science is guaranteed a job post-graduation is a myth perpetuated by big STEM (I am joking, not really). Almost all of us who complete a Bachelor's will need to go on to pursue a master's, a teacher's college, or even professional certificates to become "certified" and increase competitiveness in our job applications.

The work of those who pursue post-secondary in STEM is important. They contribute their time to developments that affect our everyday lives. The time they spend honing their skills in their respective area, looking for innovative solutions to pressing issues, all while trying to keep a work-life balance, is admirable. Funny enough, it is also the very thing that those who study liberal arts do; the only thing that differs is the content. Simply put, I wish that instead of "pinning" the two disciplines against one another, we would encourage students to explore both and make an informed decision based on their interests, not on constructed concepts of prestige.

So why not study what you like? If you are going to be "stuck" going to school for 4+ years, is it not better to pursue something you're naturally good at and are passionate about? If STEM is your calling, all the power to you- but what about students who choose liberal arts subjects? Being met with suspicious glares and polite hesitations about your interests doesn't necessarily give a vote of confidence.

Working hard or hardly working?

There are debates about which subject matter is harder, and the hate I have toward this statement cannot be overstated. Alas, it is the problem with comparison. But as my sister shared with me on Facetime last month- difficulty shouldn't equal more respected or reputable. Spoken like a true liberal arts major, and I can't say I disagree.

The discourse around ‘difficulty’ was a constant topic in my Bachelors. Feeling the need to justify that I was working hard was both demeaning and confounding. If we are to entertain this debate let me just say it is incredibly dismissive of the work and dedication of those academics in the liberal arts disciplines. They, too, write dissertations, publish in journals, and attend conferences, all the same as those in STEM. But reap not the same amount of glory.

Let’s look beyond academia, the very people who teach your children, provide you with healthcare or file your taxes might have a liberal arts degree and I can guarantee you they engage in hard work.

So again, I stand here in defence of the liberal arts degree but even more I stand for studying what makes you happy.

Just look at me I studied what I loved and turned out fine. You too can live off pasta al tonno, vending machine espresso, and buying generic brand groceries. Some may say I wrote this with the sole intention of convincing myself that I made the correct decision in pursuing a liberal arts degree; and to that, I say- you are half right!

But in all honesty it’s to the people who continue to pass judgment on those who study liberal arts or those that feel the need to feel superior for pursuing STEM. To those people I say, I will continue to follow my heart’s desire because, in the end, we will end up the same; broke, unemployed, and contemplating another degree.

Bibliography

Apollo Technical. 2024. "Career Change Statistics: The Average Number of Jobs in a Lifetime." Apollo Technical. Accessed March 15, 2025. [https://www.apollotechnical.com/career-change-statistics](https://www.apollotechnical.com/career-change-statistics).

Warwick University. 2025. "History of Liberal Arts." Warwick University. Accessed March 15, 2025. [https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/schoolforcross-facultystudies/liberalarts/prospectivestudents/undergraduate/what-is-liberal-arts/history_of_liberal_arts/](https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/schoolforcross-facultystudies/liberalarts/prospectivestudents/undergraduate/what-is-liberal-arts/history_of_liberal_arts/).

I know what you're thinking- "Donatella has officially lost it, gone off the deep end, a few fries short of a Happy Meal". But stick with me!

You see, after a few discussions with my friends about what growing up was like in our respective countries, we came to the topic of what films we loved to watch growing up. For girls who grew up in the early 2000s, the Barbie movies had a chokehold on all of us (and on our TVs).

For those of you who have the misfortune of never seeing a Barbie movie (your homework after reading is to watch one), Barbie manufacturer Mattel produced 52 movies starring Barbie as the main character across various storylines. In response to the rise of digital media, Mattel released these films first on home video (2001-2009, 2011-2015) and then eventually moved onto web series (Dreamhouse Adventure, 2017- Present).

Barbie went on to star in both original and adapted stories. Some of mine (and my friends' favourites) include Barbie of Swan Lake, Barbie Rapunzel, Barbie Princess and the Pauper, Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princesses, Barbie Nutcracker, Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus, and Barbie Fairytopia (a series)

After a conversation with friends, we realized that if you combine all of Barbie's experiences in each of these films into the "life" of the blonde-headed plastic toy, then Barbie's had it rough.

In light of Greta Gerwig's live-action Barbie film, discussions have shifted from critiquing Barbie as a problematic children's toy to Barbie acting as a vehicle for social commentary on women's experiences in the last decade. I now see a space where we can analyze Barbie's animated life with the same lens.

The truth is that Barbie has trauma.

Although the perils of womanhood don't usually consist of discovering you are a princess or being tasked to save a whole species of magical winged creatures. I argue, however, that Barbie's stressors mirror those of women today (in some respects)

As I took this walk down memory lane (and I welcomed this healthy dose of escapism from the dumpster fire that is the current state of the world), I couldn't help but notice the underlying messages in these films.

Take Barbie of Swan Lake, for example. Although an adaptation of Tchaikovsky's ballet by the same name, Barbie is banished to a forest where she is forced to turn into a swan by day and a human by night. Her mission is to defeat the evil sorcerer.

I began to think: can't a girl just go for a walk in the forest without being accosted by a Fairy Queen asking for favours? Also, Barbie needs to set some boundaries. This is a big job, and I know she already has too much on her plate.

While on this mission, she is almost shot with an arrow by Prince Daniel, but he stops himself because he admires her beauty and spares her life. Although lost on me as a child, this plot point showed that it was only because Barbie was beautiful that her life had value. Perpetuating the idea of "pretty privilege" or that a woman's worth is in her outward appearance. If it was Barbie the Ugly Duckling, this movie would have ended very quickly and in a much more depressing fashion.

I agree that one of the appeals of Barbie is that she is conventionally attractive. However, this message to a curly, brown haired, brown-eyed, 7-year-old such as myself made me stop and wonder if I had seen myself as being worthy of the Prince's affection. It is often in these "fun" fictional stories that we can see societal structures at play.

Let’s take a deeper look into Barbie’s relationship choices.

Continuing in Swan Lake, she spends one night with him and falls in love. We have all had a friend who thinks she met the love of her life after an evening, only to be ghosted the next morning. Can't help but feel Barbie may be responsible for this unrealistic expectation of modern dating. Furthermore, the Prince love bombs Barbie and conveniently, the only thing that can beat the Swan Curse is true love. I don't know about you, but if I was relegated to living the life of a large, white, feathered animal where the only way to be human again was to fall in love, I, too, would throw myself at the first guy I ran into.

The relationship dynamics between Barbie and her love interests (usually played by Ken) were something I fantasized about like many other girls my age. But dissecting it over time and across many of the films, I am left with a sour taste in my mouth. Most films have the message of friendship and believing in yourself at the forefront, but these Prince Charming subplots can undermine the intended spirit of the movie. One could argue that it's a bit poetic, as many women choose to center self-worth and healthy friendships in their lives, but in the background lies this pressure to prioritize romantic relationships as they fit the status quo.

If someone were to ask me what corrupted me, I would say Christmas of '06 when Santa brought me Barbie Princess and the Pauper on DVD (the CD soundtrack and the doll, Christmas peaked in 2006). The film was an adaptation of Mark Twain's novel The Prince and the Pauper. Princess Anneliese and Pauper Erika discover that they look alike, end up switched in a kidnapping and work to get to the bottom of why the kingdom is going bankrupt. I say this movie corrupted me, not just because I watched it on average twice a day, but because it was a blatant display of the wealth gap (Barbie style).

Barbie Erika was an indentured servant being taken advantage of by Madame Carp as she worked off her family's debt, whereas Barbie Anneliese was the daughter to the King, lived in a castle, and people like Erika made her dresses. It was my first informal introduction to Marx's class structure, with Erika as the proletariat and Anneliese as the bourgeois. I classify this as Barbie trauma because not even in fairytales can we reach workers’ rights.

Anneliese only starts to care about the poor when she exits her little bubble to venture into the village and sees the effects of poverty. A poverty that is caused by the kingdom's bankruptcy due to the King's Bernie Madoff-esque adviser, Preminger, who steals gold from the mines.

However, I argue that if Anneliese's family didn't spend lavishly on parties, dresses, and costly interior design, maybe some of the villagers would not have to sell their children into labour, but I digress. As a child I remember realizing that Barbie has lived as an aristocrat and as a peasant. The only two things that separate her experiences are the class into which she was born. Something Barbie has no control over, and despite Pauper Barbie's efforts to make it as a singer on her own, she requires the attention and assistance of her privileged counterpart to make the dream come true.

What is also never touched on (as it is a children's movie) is how both girls are born days apart and look the same. I can't help but feel that a possible switched/separated at birth scenario would affect Barbie in the future. Someone get Barbie to therapy.

In the late 00’s, magic became less of a focus in this new era of Barbie. However, when magic is presented, it is a privilege for the 1% (oh, how life imitates art). Instead, these films have Barbie wanting to pursue a career (actress, musician, surfer). The magic version of Barbie is sent to school to learn how to govern kingdoms, aka, gain political influence and perpetuate nepotism. While the non-magic version has to pull herself up by her bootstraps, make an income, and start filing taxes (T4, 401K, or whatever bureaucratic nightmare exists in the Barbie cinematic universe).

Even in the non-magic films, Barbie is doubted by those around her as she sets goals for herself. Working in cafes by day and trying to pursue a career in the arts (a fairly accurate representation of the fickle world of entertainment). Or carrying the weight of the oldest sibling by providing advice or guidance in the absence of her parents. I always wondered where her parents were, and I think the parentification of Barbie is something we overlook.

This isn't to create a dislike towards Barbie (lord knows she has received enough of that over the years), but rather the opposite. Barbie deserves a little empathy, she has lived a million lifetimes in only 65 years. Whether it was her more realistic struggles from working the high-stress job of a doctor, breaking the glass ceiling as a pilot, or working minimum wage while the cost of living soars. From the pressure of saving the world(s), discovering new family members, or not being able to dance with her 11 princess sisters. Barbie has experienced stress in all of its glorious forms.

Despite all the stress and traumatic situations Barbie found herself in, she taught me resilience. That no challenge was too hard and no mountain was too big to climb (especially when you have a friend named Pegasus). Many of our life experiences make us who we are, and despite challenges that leave us feeling pain or disappointment, they provide moments of great reflection.

At it's core, the problems Barbie faces are not far off from that of the girls she raised. Navigating big changes, increased responsibility, and the vocalized doubts of others. As cheesy as it sounds, the parables in Barbie's life taught me the power of believing in yourself, that it’s okay to ask for help, and that fostering friendships that uplift you goes a long way in this cruel world.

While I prepare a plate that would get me an A+ in grade 4 health class (I am looking at you Canada Food Guide), my Italian counterparts opt for a different kind of sustenance- coffee and a cigarette. I have to admit, it’s much easier to prepare than avocado toast or scrambled eggs, and definitely is "sexier" than a bowl of Quaker Oatmeal. But I just can't get behind it...or can I?

I have never been a smoker. Aside from the occasional experimentation in highschool (sorry mom and dad), it has never been appealing to me. However, the more time I spend in a place with a "smoking culture", I experience a curiosity, an interest, dare I say...a bit of peer pressure.

Yes at 24, you can still experience peer pressure. Like all grade 6 Ontario students of the 2000’s to late 2010’s, I graduated D.A.R.E- with the T-shirt to prove it. Therefore, I am well aware of the health implications of picking up the habit and the “say no to drugs” slogan. But, you see, I am no better than a teenager.

Moving to a new place and making new friends (especially in adulthood) can be difficult and smoking can facilitate opportunities to connect with people. It’s not uncommon to be in a conversation with someone and they offer for you to join them for a cigarette. Or you are walking in the street, someone stops and asks you for a lighter or extra "cartine" (rolling papers) and you regretfully tell them you don't smoke.

It’s sort of like being apart of an exclusive club, but instead of knowing the password or secret handshake- your way to access it is reaching into your coat pocket to pull out a pack of darts,

Strictly from anecdotal evidence I have collected - most people my age identify as social smokers. Social smoking as an identity is defined as “a self-identity in which the person describes themselves as someone who smokes predominantly or exclusively in the presence of others who are smoking” (Kale et al., 2024). While usually associated with social gatherings such as parties or night life, by definition, it can happen any place that others choose to smoke. Those who identify as having a social smoking identity report being more inclined to smoke in the prescence of those who are also smoking (Hastings et al, 2020) and that social smokers are less inclined to quit, as they perceive the activity as social rather than an addiction (Moran et al., 2004; Song et al., 2014)

While this identity may not matter in the smoking community, I believe it matters to the individual and how they interact with society as a whole. The line that divides “I need a cigarette” and “I would like one” in the minds of those that engage in the activity. Obviously, this could be a result of the stigma surrounding smokers. No doubt that identifying as a smoker has negative connotation.

At least in Canada, smoking cigarettes is looked down upon much more than marijuana, vaping, or consuming any other kind of nicotine substances. I believe this is large in part to the anti-smoking campaigns of the 80’s and 90’s that have trickled into how we categorize socially acceptable behaviour. As someone who is apart of the generation that almost eradicated smoking cigarettes; the glamorization of other substances has simply taken the place of cigarettes, therefore I find it unfair to continue to shame cigarette smokers.

Cultural differences between youth in Canada versus Italy has caused me to reflect on why smoking cigarettes is less popular in the former(looking beyond the stigma). I imagine going for a smoke break in Canada is less enjoyable. For starters, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to find places to smoke due to laws prohibiting smoking in front of most businesses and restaurant patios. Second, I wouldn't be itching at the chance to join someone who asks "do you wanna join me for a smoke" in -20 during the peak of a Canadian winter. This could be why vaping or Snus/Zyn (nicotine pouches you place on your gum, like chewing tabacco) is on the rise in countries with colder climates.

I think for many, smoking, is a type of observance and the option chosen plays a role in how someone self-identifies. You can tell a lot about a person based on their method of choice. Some enjoy rolling it themselves; the filter sits behind their ear as their tongue licks the rolling paper. Once done rolling, they inspect their work like an artist who finishes a sculpture. Some buy pre-rolled, others use Iqos- a device that heats up the cigarette and who people have expressed me is "healthier", yet smells horrible. Of course then there is the aforementioned vape, Zyn and Snus but is admittedly not as popular in Italy. I imagine Italians are traditionalists- and smoking tabacco is like a ritual.

For centuries, many cultures around the world use smoking as a ritual; to build community, solve disputes, or presented as a gift of appreciation. I see these similarities reflected in the smoking culture of 20-somethings in Italy. Meeting someone new- you offer them a smoke, friend having a rough day- share a smoke, having a tough conversation- light a cigarette. Even the important role of rolling the cigarette, often assigned to the most skilled member of the group is reminiscent of the rolls certain societies ascribe to their members at meetings/council. While maybe not evident at first, it is used as a tool to build connection, close business deals, or offer advice.

I have seen people smoke at breakfast, smoke at dinner, smoke before class, smoke after class, smoke during class, smoke on your bike, smoke after the gym, smoke when your happy, smoke when your sad, hell I have seen drivers navigate the streets of Bologna- cellphone in one hand and cigarette in the other (distracted driving, who?)

you get the picture.

All the scenarios and social situations surrounding smoking, while not enticing me to pick up the habit, it does create a desire to feel connected to others through this shared act. Some may say, “well Donatella, that is the definition of peer pressure” and while that is half true- the other half can be framed more positively.

Even in technologically advanced societies, with all the research telling us smoking is bad, we as humans hang on to habits that help us feel connected to one another. For social smokers; it may be less about the object and more about what the action represents. Yes, that feeling of connection may be as a result of the chemical effects of nicotine on the brain but I think it’s worth attributing some of that to the ritual. And maybe, now more than ever, young people are longing for that space that allows for community to be built.

So while I am not encouraging anyone to take up smoking, I do think we should take a closer look on why the habit (in all its various forms) continues to exist in social settings. All that being said, I will continue to stick to my balanced breakfast and sit on the fringes of the smoking club. Admiring those with lighter in hand, ready to dive into their chat. For they connected with someone today, whether it be a friend or stranger and I can’t help but feel the world is a little better for it.

Hastings, J., Cox, S., West, R., Notley, C., 2020. Addiction ontology: applying basic formal ontology in the addiction domain. Qeios. https://doi.org/10.32388/HZHJIP.

Kale, D., Jackson, S., Brown, J., Garnett, C., & Shahab, L. (2024). Social Smoker identity and associations with smoking and quitting behaviour: A cross-sectional study in England. Drug and Alcohol Dependence, 260, 111345. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugalcdep.2024.111345

Moran, S., Wechsler, H., Rigotti, N.A., 2004. Social smoking among US college students. Pediatrics 114, 1028–1034.

Schane, R.E., Ling, P.M., Glantz, S.A., 2010. Health effects of light and intermittent smoking: a review. Circulation 121, 1518–1522

A couple of months ago I was chatting with a friend over the phone. I called her while I cleaned the kitchen after lunch and she was still wiping the sleep from her eyes. It’s 8:00 am in Toronto, Canada and our friendship has been relegated to FaceTime calls between meals and before class. I guess this is the price of long-distance friendships.

After the pleasantries, we jump into the important stuff; Premier Doug Ford’s plan to remove the bike lanes from Toronto, whether she has found a replacement for the now discontinued Givenchy setting powder, and if I am still on the hunt for a decent jar of peanut butter in Italy. To a layperson, it is confusing to understand how a conversation can sprout from one topic and grow many long intertwined branches into another, but that’s simply the nature of girl chat.

Somewhere between discussing global affairs and the latest influencer drama, she mentions that she went to the library and checked out a book she wanted to read. In this moment I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I had checked out a book from the library.

Like many kids who grew up in a city with nothing to do, our weekends were spent at the library. We conclude that it is very likely we had been in the same library at the same time as children but would only meet in high school.

I looked forward to Saturday afternoons at the library with my dad, anticipating what book I would discover after dropping last week’s literature down the book chute. While my Dad ventured to the basement level to consult books on investment properties or to surf the web, I entered my own domain; the kids section. Fun coloured carpets, plastic Ikea chairs, and an endless collection of Nancy Drew graphic novels; it was my intellectual oasis.

I could go on about the hours spent at my downtown public library, curled up in a bean bag chair with the latest issue of Junie B. Jones, but that would distract from the point: what happened to the public library?

I am very much aware they still exist (I am currently writing this from one in Bologna) but one cannot deny that with the rise of technology, the role of the public library has changed. Technology is way more accessible than it was 15 years ago, allowing for parents to be able to entertain their kids right at home. The invention of the iPad, on-demand television, and the fact that 94% of Canadians have internet access (2024, Statistics Canada) could all be reasons why public libraries are becoming forgotten.

Now, the public library I currently sit in is full of families, old men reading the current issue of La Repubblica, and stressed university students. Equipped with a caffé in case you need a coffee fix, I can say it puts my childhood public library to shame. But what is most impressive is that it is FULL. Italians (or at least those who come to Biblioteca Salaborsa) use the library as a community hub for all ages. There are language classes for newcomers to practice Italian, children story hour, and weekly conferences. So maybe the public library isn’t dead, or maybe the ones in Canada are?

I have seen online a growing concern for the lack of third places. First created by American sociologist Ray Oldenburg, it describes the places outside of the home (the first place) and the workplace (the second place) where people go to converse with others and connect with their community. No one is obligated to be there, and cost is not a barrier to entry. It is a meeting ground to build relationships and create connections. The most obvious third space in my life is a piazza, which comes alive after the working day is done. But upon reflection on my life growing up in Canada, the only one I can think of is the library.

If it is not obvious enough, I am pro-public library. It is a FREE space for people to have access to information in a world where life is increasingly becoming privatized. I just think the model needs to change. Gone are the days where people are checking out books, DVDs, CDs and VHS (I still love me a good VHS). Instead, public libraries should be places where parents can drop off kids after school to receive tutoring help, immigrants can access services to help them adjust to life in a new place, or the elderly can go to meet with friends. It should be accessible for all modes of transportation and with multiple locations across a city- including rural areas.

From my brief stint as a teacher, I see the need for public libraries more than ever. Schools are the first place you see the effects of the wealth gap. Parents are tasked with caring for both child and grandparent, class sizes have grown to 30, and over the last decade we have witnessed the shrinking of the middle class. Simply put, we are running out of road. Libraries cannot solve all these problems, but could be a good place to start.

The truth is, no matter what tax bracket you’re in - you’re free to use the library. A place for you to print a resume to get a job, practice public speaking skills, or learn how to code. Maybe you have a curious kid who wants to explore the world through stacks of books on the shelves or practice their art skills and become the next Picasso. Whoever it is and whatever their goal, the purpose of the modern public library model is to act as a vehicle for that.

Upon further research of my hometown’s library, I noticed that they are starting to implement some of the programming I see in Bologna’s library (unfortunately, not the cafe). But I think the issue lies in the fact that most people don’t know about it. For example, did you know

1. A library card is free

2. You can take out ebooks and audiobooks and download them on almost any device

3. You pay for it in your taxes

The pessimist in me fears that with the rise of the neoliberal agenda, the public library concept could be extinct. A place I considered my weekend paradise could be paved and turned into a parking lot (did you catch the song reference). But as I see the people flow in and out of Salaborsa, I am met with optimism for the future of the library.

I am sad to report that the conclusion of this cross-continental phone call did not end with us solving all the world’s problems. We couldn’t stop Doug Ford from removing bike lanes. My friend will still mourn the loss of her favourite makeup product, and I will continue to purchase every brand of peanut butter until I find one that remotely resembles the highly-processed, creamy goodness that sits on the shelves at your local Loblaws. But there are two things I took away from this conversation (and what I hope you will take away from this article).

1. The importance of preserving third places so that everyone in our community can benefit.

2. The library book you took out in 2007 and forgot to return; it’s probably overdue.

You pack the essentials- some books, your favourite Barbie, pencils and crayons. You heard a kid at school last week talk about how his grandparents have a computer, Nonna and Nonno still have a rotary phone. But that never bothered you; you are about to have a weekend full of unlimited basic cable cartoons and 3 course meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

When you arrive, Nonna greets you with a smile and a “ciao bella mia,” and she embraces you and your sister. She is sporting a floral printed smock apron she made 40 years ago with the leftover fabric from the factory where she used to work.

You smell something good, and you start to hear something coming from the kitchen; it is the bubbling of the red tomato sauce that sits on the stove. On the table, you see homemade chicken cutlets, salad fresh from the garden, Nonno’s prosciutto, which he sliced thin on his industrial grade meat slicer, and an assortment of cheese. Caciocavallo is your favourite. You send your sister to the garage to fetch two crisp cans of Canada Dry ginger ale or Fresca, a perfect pairing for this fine dining experience.

Mom never lets you have pop, but the rules don’t apply at Nonna's. At Nonna’s, you are shielded from punishment by the simple phrase - “lascia sta’” (let it be), uttered sternly by Nonna, directed towards those pesky parental authority figures.

Nonno sits in his usual seat at the head of the table, pouring himself a glass of his homemade red wine. He whispers to you to dip your finger in the glass so you can taste the fruit of last summers labour. Like the young sommelier you are, you smack your lips and express your approval by letting out an “ahhhhh”.

You may be full, but there is always room for dessert- i cannoli, la torta di ricotta, and Comare’s Mustaccioli cookies are the icing on the metaphorical cake. Hunched over his now empty plate, Nonno sits cutting an apple from his garden with his Swiss army knife. He peels it perfectly as to make one long ribbon from the peel. When you ask him how he learned how to do it so well, he recounts stories about working on the farm as a child where he would eat apples fresh from the tree as a snack to sustain himself throughout the long days of work. You take the apple slice from his rough hands and savour the taste as you imagine he did when he was young.

Stumbling away from the table, you make your way to the couch to nurse your food coma. As you prepare to take your afternoon nap, Nonno tells your sister to change the channel from Spongebob to “Italia show”. As your sister punches in the numbers on the remote control. You hope there will be a kids’ show like Winx Club or Melevisone. You're met with disappointment; it’s TG1.

As you doze off, you start thinking that maybe Nonno will take you and your cousins to the mall tomorrow, where he will let you guys ride the carousel as often as you want. You look forward to plopping the shiny silver quarters in the candy machine to buy gum balls or Reeses Pieces. Nonno will make you promise that you won’t tell Nonna, who is at home preparing the next Michelin star meal- you requested cicatelli (cicatell’ )

When you awake from your nap, you're alone in the living room, you search the house for anyone. You spot Nonna and Nonno in the garden. They are having a lively discussion about why the zucchini plants are sprouting later than usual. Nonna suggests that Nonno may have made an error in his watering schedule this year. Nonno waves his hand to signify to Nonna that she doesn’t know what she is talking about, but deep down inside, he knows she is right. Your sister, covered in dirt from her own gardening project, asks Nonno if she can help him. Nonna looks on in horror.

Her clothes are full of dirt, and the rip in her pants caused by the rake Nonno gave to her is a major point of concern for Nonna. “Ma, tu sei sporca!” (You're dirty!), Nonna calls out at your sister. Nonno chuckles to himself as he encourages your sister to “va’ zappa” (hoe the garden) together.

Eventually, Nonna takes on the mission of repairing your sister’s pants. She takes you to the basement where her sewing machine sits on an old wooden table, surrounded but spools of thread and scrap fabric. She clicks on the bright desk lamp from circa 1970 (like most things in the house, it’s vintage). You watch as she inspects the rip and thinks about her plan of attack. Before you know it, her wooden ciabatta hits the peddle of the machine with just the right touch; the machine awakens. As the needle goes in and out of the pink fabric, you watch as her wrinkled hands guide the fabric through the machine. The precision, the confidence, the skill- is there anything Nonna can’t fix?

She hums a tune to herself as she completes the last row, cuts the thread and inspects her work proudly. You ask Nonna how she learned to sew, and as she recounts the story, she shares of the time she bought a bra at the market when she was a teenager in Italy. Instead of wearing it, she cut it apart and made a sewing pattern to make plenty of bras for her and her sisters.

As a kid, you watch characters with superpowers save the day on TV. Still, it wouldn’t be till you were older that you would appreciate how despite Nonna and Nonno growing up with very little, their creativity and resourcefulness was a superpower in its own right.

Nonna instructs you to check on the coffee she left on the stove. You walk into the kitchen and find the familiar silver Bialetti mocha pot hissing on the stove- this is the soundtrack of your childhood.

The grandfather clock that ticks away in the room no one has ever sat in. The ringing of the corded rotary phone used to share good news, bad news, and the occasional long distance phone call to Nonna’s sister in Avellino.

Maybe it’s the striking of a match, followed by the clicking of the gas stove as Nonna begins to cook. It is the sound homemade biscotti make when they are placed on the China tray for her friend, as they share news of someone’s engagement or recent passing. It could be the pulsing of the sewing machine as Nonna makes her latest creation come to life.

It is the familiar voice of Maria De Filippi on C’e Posta Per Te or the opening credits of Un Posto al Sole. Maybe it’s the distant sound of nelmelodico playing on Nonno’s Panasonic radio that he so proudly tells you he bought on sale from Consumers Distributing in 1979. It’s Nonno’s deep voice when you ask him why he doesn’t buy a new one, and he responds with, “funziona ancora meglio and the new one’s always ‘breakah’ ”.

It could be the sound that echos from the garage as Nonno sits in his overalls and wife-beater as he tinkers with his latest invention. It’s the shuffling of his muddy shoes as he enters the porch from a day of work tending to his tomato plants and fig trees or his snores as he takes an afternoon rest in his favourite chair. It’s the conversations taking place between Nonna and Nonno’s friends who switch between Italian, English and Italiese. It’s the sound of clinking cutlery and loud laughter over a Sunday dinner as your family gathers around a table too small to hold everyone. It is the bubbling of the red tomato sauce that sits on the stove.

Before you know it, you're getting older. You move away for school or work, and your weekends look a little different. Nonna’s cookbooks are replaced with textbooks, Nonno’s wine cellar is replaced by bars with your friends, and the Sunday dinner table appears less crowded. When you find yourself stressed with the responsibilities of adulthood, you start to play that soundtrack back in your head.

Over the years, the TV becomes louder, Nonno moves slower, and Nonna starts to forget she left that pot of red tomato sauce on the stove; it is only then that you realize how much you miss weekends at Nonna’s.