This is a shameless self-promotion. You should write for me. Seriously. I’m a nice enough editor and I’ll be eternally grateful if you choose to write. But beyond doing me a favour, writing for the opinions section can be an extremely rewarding experience.
For one, writing an opinion piece is a lot different than simply stating your opinions aloud. When you write an opinion piece, you are forced to confront your own assumptions and really delve into why you hold the opinions that you do. This can lead to the strengthening or even complete change of beliefs. At the very least, writing an opinion piece will force you to understand the nuances of your opinion.
You’ll also have to argue effectively, or at least learn how. No one will agree with your opinions, even important ones, if they are not well-substantiated and well-written. Thus, writing for the opinions sections provides the unique opportunity to format your opinions in a formal and argumentative way that is meant to convince others of your stance. Not only will this help persuade others to think similarly but the ability to effectively communicate your thoughts and beliefs is an essential skill for almost all professions.
Speaking of professions, writing for the opinions section is a fantastic opportunity for students for a multitude of reasons. You’ll inevitably become a stronger writer, an important skill in today’s job market. When you write for the opinions section, your piece will likely go through several rounds of editing before being accepted. You will essentially receive feedback on how to become a better writer, something that is difficult to obtain outside of classroom assessments that have the risk of grades attached. If all goes well, you’ll also be published, which is an incentive in itself.
Writing for the opinions section also allows you to make your voice heard. Do you think that our opinions section focuses too much on certain issues and not enough on others of equal or greater importance? Do you disagree with some or all of the opinions that are published? Are you tired of reading opinions from the same person each week?
These are all valid criticisms but they don’t mean very much without any action. Sure, you can post a lengthy Facebook comment, detailing how much you hate The Silhouette’s opinion section and disagree with all our published articles. But that comment probably won’t reach a wide audience. The only way to actually make a change is by writing opinion articles yourself. Disagree with something we wrote? Write a counter-piece. So long as whatever you write falls within our guidelines, it’ll undergo the same scrutiny and revision process that all other articles are put through.
University is the perfect time to form new opinions. Now is your chance to refine and make these opinions known. If you ever have an idea for an opinion piece, please send me an email at [email protected].
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This letter was written in response to "Tuition advocacy comes to fruition" by Rachel Katz in our March 3, 2016 issue.
Recent news of Ontario's new budget was expected to be met with jubilation across post-secondary school campuses due to plans for free tuition. As Rachel Katz's story in The Silhouette reports, “for long-term advocates of affordable tuition (this) marks a significant victory”. Except that this is really not a victory at all for those of us who are actually studying at a university or college right now, and this fact seems lost on the news media, as well as many students who haven't yet realized the implications.
Rather than lamenting that full tuition will not be provided for those in more expensive programs, the emphasis here should be on the fact that those already burdened with crippling student loans, and those about to graduate by next year, got absolutely nothing from the Liberals. After all, the whole point of lowered tuition is to reduce student debt. Yet the message we got was that only those low-income families and individuals who will be in school from 2017 onward matter. Why this is the case, and how no one in government didn't see the gross inequality, is a mystery. Put into perspective, many people finishing a standard four year degree next year will have accumulated approximately $30,000 owing after graduation, while their counterparts entering university during the 2017-2018 school year will finish with only about half that amount to pay back as a loan.
Perhaps there should be a push now to reduce the overall debt of current and past students still struggling with these obligations. A lifetime cap, as has been suggested previously by some, of $20,000 total would be a nice start. After all, we also have tuition tax credits which could be put toward that purpose. What we have now is a two-tier system, where in ten years time one generation of grads will have huge loans to still pay off while their younger cohorts enjoy a huge head start in life. In a country which constantly screams about equality, this oversight is truly appalling and mind-boggling.
By: Sarah Jama
The first time I travelled out of Canada was in December of last year, when I went to Ecuador for a festival. I was randomly selected for a search four times before I got onto a plane to Houston, and randomly selected for a search another two times before I got onto a plane to Ecuador. I travelled with ten other people, but was one of the two people in my group of friends to be searched at all.
The two of us were the only coloured ones. The searches were so extensive that security put on rubber gloves and picked through my hair with her fingers, and my walker was taken aside and scanned multiple times, maybe for hidden compartments. I was born and raised in Canada and I told them I was Canadian, but it didn’t matter. According to airport security, I was more likely than my white friends to be a terrorist or drug transporter.
A lot of this is why I feel bad for the 30-year-old assault-rifle collector from Pakistan who was arrested on allegations that he is a terrorist threat to Canada. Muhammad Ansari is now a person of interest in an investigation by the RCMP-led Integrated National Security Enforcement Team in Ontario.
This means that instead of just being charged for the crimes he committed, i.e. collecting rifles illegally, he is being investigated for acts of terrorism. His parents say he was a software engineer looking to escape violence in Pakistan. His friends say he is not a violent individual. There is no evidence to suggest that his hobby, though against the law, was tied to terrorism.
Terrorists exist. They attack, they hurt, and they kill. But as a black woman from a religious minority, I have to do the work of fearing terrorists and proving that I’m not one myself, leaving me in this awkward gray area. I have to be more careful about my hobbies, and careful in abiding by every single law, so that my mistakes aren’t looked at through a lens of terrorism. I have to be submissive and okay with being searched head to toe multiple times in airports before I can board a plane.
Maybe if someone had warned Muhammad Ansari about this gray area, he would have done away with his gun collecting hobby earlier.
By: Grace Bocking
As a perpetually shy individual who also happens to loath conflict, clear communication is not one of my strong suits. I cannot begin to list the number of times I have been unable to properly communicate my feelings or opinions because I’ve been terrified of what could follow. What if people get mad at me? What if they disagree? What if they think I’m stupid? These nightmarish scenarios have played through my head like reruns of Friends, and they’ve prevented me from saying the things that I really wanted to.
In a society that teaches us to filter ourselves and be reserved in groups, speaking with honesty and conviction isn’t easy. It’s fear that often stands in my way, but others fear judgement, can’t find the right words, or are simply avoiding confrontation.
Recently, this pattern of refusing to assert myself has become more troubling to me. I realized that by not saying what I mean or meaning what I say, I have been keeping those around me at an arm’s length. Friends, family, and roommates have all been kept in the dark. Not only is this isolating, but it has prevented me from strengthening relationships that I value. Many of those closest to me don’t know what’s on my mind, and therefore don’t truly know me.
What’s more is that by refusing to share my views and feelings, I have been diminishing their importance. By shaping myself in to the agreeable person that I believe others want me to be, I have been able to avoid conflict. However, I have also been telling myself and the world that the way I see things isn’t important and that my opinions aren’t as valid as of everyone else’s. I am a plain doormat than no one would pay attention to.
This isn’t to say that I should be blunt or rude in my conversations with others; just that I should eliminate some of the fluff and lip service I give. Being genuine makes you an interesting person, whereas avoiding conflict by saying common and agreeable statements just makes you that nice, albeit bland and uninteresting, person.
What I am beginning to learn is that while holding your tongue may temporarily delay a confrontation or an awkward conversation, it is neither a good nor lasting solution. It only prolongs your suffering. I know just how difficult it can be to speak your mind, but I have found that honesty always improves the situation. People won’t know you’re upset unless you tell them, and hiding up your feelings will only make you feel trapped.
Intentionally misleading the people in your life is never the right answer. If we would all commit to saying what we mean and meaning what we say, many misunderstandings would be avoided. Though ripped straight from an afterschool special, honesty truly is the best policy.
Writer Kurt Vonnegut used to have this speech entitled, “How to Get a Job Like Mine.” In it, he told you nothing of the sort. Instead with his worn-down, rustic voice that sounded like a radiator, he pursued topics with the consistency of a schizophrenic police dog. Everything he discussed could give a high if spoken correctly and one could laugh about it in the end.
A typical talk went like this: Nuclear holocaust. Squirrels. Art. LGBTQ concerns. Farts.
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I’m in quite an opposite situation, however. I have the opportunity to write anything I like here as the Opinions Editor, and instead of a tangential concerns or weighing the seriousness of daily flatulence, I feel like telling you exactly how it is.
Looky here. You want to be an Opinions Editor? Well, it isn’t too hard as this article, and all else written, serves as evidence. You simply have to understand the products of ozonolysis and react them with chlorofluorocarbons.
Then you need to pee your pants in grade five. If not, or if you’re too embarassed of the squishy-squish sound from your polyester pants, no business.
From there, you must have a birthday party at Lazermania. You have to take it way too seriously. It’s the environment, you tell everyone. It makes you competitive.
Things happen. Other things happen too. And you grow and change and write and change that writing too. It grows all the same.
This is what Opinions Editors do. They talk about one thing or another, and they tell you that this is lack of specificity is intentional. For when getting a job like mine, you must first understand what it means to be you. Otherwise, there will be no mine. Everything may read like this – a little bit nonsense and a little bit sense all the same.
What I’m getting at is that if you’re tangential, be tangential. If you make no sense, make no sense. At no point should you dress up and waltz around in a ballroom if you want to tap dance.
I don’t know how to tap dance. In fact, I barely know how to dance at all. I took four years of ballet. It didn’t help me much. I jut around like a Tetris piece trying to fit into a tight spot. Most of the times, the blocks just pile up around me.
But that’s okay. Why? Because I know this, and I’m happy with it. I hope that the next Opinions Editor, whomever they may be and whomever they may think they are, is just as happy.
For after writing some 30 plus articles this term, I realize this is the only opinion that is worth a damn.
For Valentine's Day, we asked McMaster students to dish about love, relationships and how they manage it all.
McMaster students on what they plan to do with their families over the holidays. What will you be doing to celebrate the end of exams?
Most of the memories I have of Gabriel involve, in some capacity, water. This is for two main reasons. One, because I live in a quite boring, rather small, very quiet city on Lake Huron, so the beach is any self-respecting young person’s main attraction. Two, because Gabriel loves water: the ocean, the lake, the pool, the rain and, of course, his fish tanks.
The first time I met him was beside the pool both our families were members of, both of us waiting for our swimming lessons to start. Gabriel was one of the first strangers I ever initiated a conversation with, on account of my being unbearably shy for the first dozen or so years. We never exchanged names, even though we kept seeing each other all summer, just by chance at the pool. He would have remained anonymous had we not been members of the same church, both attending confirmation classes at the same time. For him, confirmation was something he did because it was the next natural step in practicing his faith and religion. For me, confirmation was something I did because it was the next natural step in avoiding a fight with my parents about faith and religion.
On the day of our confirmation, I asked my mother permission to invite Gabriel (and Mary to avoid being teased about a boy) over sometime. For the next three years, Gabriel was my best friend, and I was his.
We didn’t go to the same school, but from what I gathered from his stories and stories my friends told me about him, Gabriel was a popular guy. I wasn’t unpopular, at my school, but I certainly wasn’t accustomed to being friends with someone who had so many people vying for his time. I was proud that he usually leant it to me.
Whenever we hung out, whatever we were doing, it was always fun. Even if we were just helping each other with the other’s paper route, the conversation was always energetic, original and funny.
We didn’t talk about serious things very often, in part because we were 14, and in part because I avoided broaching some subjects with Gabriel. He was a very active, very vocal member of the Catholic Church, bringing me along to his catechism classes for a few weeks. At these meetings, they would discuss all the things that I knew to never discuss with Gabriel - abortion, creationism, gay marriage, scripture – while I would smile politely and enjoy the provided snacks.
When we both got jobs, we saw each other less and less. But we would always bring each other stories and souvenirs from any travels we took. By the time my prom rolled around, we weren’t hanging out too often, but he was still the first person I wanted to bring as my date. He charmed, as he was wont to, everyone I introduced him to at both the dance and after-party. Seeing as it was my first time drinking, he made sure I had neither too little nor too much, and taught me the rules of various drinking games.
Prom jumpstarted our friendship back into its prime for that summer, but when I came away to school we didn’t talk much.
We see each other occasionally, when some mutual friends invite us to the same party. The last time I saw him, he was standing beside a pool; taller, thinner and only slightly less strange than when I saw him the first time.
I must have had good taste in friends, even by grade eight, because I still get along well with Gabriel when I do see him, but neither of us say “We never see each other anymore!” or “We should definitely hang out more soon.”
There’s nothing tragic about drifting out of old friendships and into new ones. Gabriel was the perfect friend for me when he was my friend. He was someone that I initiated friendship with, for the first time by my own volition and control, and it was empowering. He was someone that people teased me about when they saw how well we meshed, and it was interesting to have my identity positively linked with another’s. He was someone that made me realize I could be more charismatic, and it was a confidence boost. He was someone that guided me into new experiences, not gently, but safely, and it was exciting. He was not someone with whom I shared major worldviews or had serious conversations, but it was fun. He was not someone who would budge when confronted about his opinions, but I was learning to pick my battles.
That was I what did and didn’t need then.
I’ve grown. As have Gabriel and I, from best friends to effortless acquaintances.
Growth in relationships isn’t always about growing closer to someone. This is why I do not mourn for faded friendships. The person I was held them dear, and the person I am now holds memories and lessons.
Baobab trees, my favourite trees, require frequent watering and nurturing while they are germinating. You can even keep them indoors during that stage, out of direct sunlight. Once their trunks start expanding though, they require a lot of space for their root system.
But not much water.
I’m used to hearing about natural disasters. Earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes. Of course, they have always occurred in other places. Somewhere tropical, along a coast, or over a fault line. I would shake my head sadly at the news broadcast, feel deeply for the suffering people, and thank my lucky stars that I live in Canada. And then, out of nowhere, Alberta.
Their tremendous floods added weight to the conversations I was privileged enough to have over the days leading up to this issue. Conversations with people who care deeply about environmental conservation, accountability, sustainability and clean-air transportation. Their voices, heard throughout this issue, speak to the little things that make big differences. Differences I have often faced cynically. How does my small effort to switch off the lights not be rendered futile by the office highrise that leaves every single light on? So what if we plant trees to improve the air if the factories will keep pumping out more poison than we can keep up with?
On a daily, individual basis, the bigger battles - against business practices, industry standards and global politics - cannot be won. And if those are the only pieces of the puzzle one focuses on, then disillusionment and infantilization are instant byproducts.
But if we make room in our lives for the little things - the recycling and the composting and the biking instead of driving - and make room for them successfully, then inpiration, determination and a collective desire to start tackling the big things will follow.
Yes We Cannon, the Street Tree program and LEARN-CC are just a few of the initiatives happening in Hamilton that are worth learning more about in this issue. Yes, they’re local, little things. And together, with other similar movements around the city, province and country, they’ll make a big impact.
In September, my final year as an undergraduate student starts. For the first time in a while, I don’t have to worry about which courses I need to take. Having conquered SOLAR in June for the last time, I don’t envy those still trying to get into courses, much less those trying to figure out what their major will be.
In today’s economy, it’s often easier to ask questions about which majors are ‘useful’ in terms of monetary investment—as opposed to why we really want to major in something, or anything, and why we came to university in the first place.
Media outlets have been reporting for some time that students are shifting away from the liberal arts and toward more ‘practical’ fields of study. Lists of “Most practical majors” and “Highest paying jobs” have been springing up vigorously. They’re hard to turn away from, given the dismal job market millennials are facing. The Washington Post reported that 70 per cent more American college grads worked minimum wage jobs in 2012 compared to ten years before. The Globe and Mail published an online interactive “time machine” showing that Canadian university grads of 2010 have it worse in terms of income, housing prices, tuition, and student loans, than grads had it 30 years ago.
After OUAC released confirmation statistics earlier this month, Maclean’s On Campus ran a short article on how students are opting for practical programs. (In Ontario, confirmed acceptances to university science programs are up 5.2 per cent from last year and down 1.6 per cent in the arts, although the fine and applied arts experienced an 8.7 per cent increase.)
But ‘practicality’ is too often being associated with ‘employability,’ though they don’t imply the same things. In the current job market, being able to apply skills you’ve learned doesn’t necessarily mean you will get a job. Students feel pressure to look employable on paper, and many struggle to gain experience that leads somewhere and pays a decent wage, too.
How career development can be improved and whether students are fully prepared for the workplace are concerns that most programs are grappling with. There’s nothing about the humanities, sciences or social sciences that makes one more objectively valuable, or “practical,” than another.
We should be speaking more directly to the economic reasons why universities and students are in a tough spot, instead of painting a bleak picture of academia being divided between ‘old-’ and ‘new-’ age programs. The reality is that post-secondary education as a system needs revamping.
That being said, university is not for everyone. It’s not fair to keep telling high-schoolers that they will fit the mould if they just try. (Note: OUAC’s statistics show a steady increase in confirmation of university acceptances, from 67,393 in 2004 to 91,378 this year.)
As student debt soars and issues like underfunding continue to be hotly debated, public institutions should avoid overstating the monetary returns for an undergraduate degree, and students shouldn’t underestimate the cost (financial and social) of getting one.
And if a student does choose one program over another, it should be because they are genuinely interested in going another route, not because they’ve been told not to take a risk on the ‘impractical.’
