This Remembrance Day saw more than a dozen services and ceremonies throughout the city. At sunset, church bells throughout Winnipeg – and across Canada – rang out to mark the 100 years that have passed since the armistice that ended the First World War.
When the poet Eileen Myles came to town to launch their book Evolution, a dinner was organized in their honour featuring local queer poets and writers at all stages of their careers.
At first glance, harm reduction might seem to be a combination of two simple words – ones that appear to be easily understood and put into action. How hard can reducing harm be?
Working in media as a sober person during the time of cannabis legalization has been an incredibly strange experience.
Simple turns of phrase or even the order in which a reporter introduces sources can hint at their inherent biases.
This year’s ballot question of opening Portage and Main to pedestrians has been championed as the chief accessibility issue for Winnipeg citizens across the city.
The first time I stepped in a newsroom, I shadowed a sports reporter who left me with one key piece of advice: don’t clap. If I wanted to be a journalist, I shouldn’t cheer, celebrate or reveal my biases while in the field.
Being part of social movements seems inherent when your body vehemently resists mainstream society.
Routines inescapably govern our everyday lives. How we get dressed, how we commute to work or school, how or when we eat and even how we fall asleep are all mundane tasks that we accomplish mechanically.
Weed. Jazz cabbage. The devil’s lettuce. Whatever you choose to call it, cannabis is becoming more socially accepted.
When news broke that NYU professor Avital Ronell and prominent Harvey Weinstein accuser Asia Argento had been accused of sexual harassment and sexual assault, respectively, many questioned whether their implication or culpability delegitimized the #metoo movement.
Louis CK received a standing ovation after his first comedy set since admitting he forcibly exposed himself and masturbated in front of numerous unconsenting women.
Despite continued efforts for the University of Winnipeg to diversify, the representation of faculty with disabilities remains incredibly low at the University of Winnipeg
Breaking down in front of a boss, many moons ago, was the beginning of the end of my time at my job.
Whenever I go out to my parents’ cabin at Bel-Air, Man., I make a point of accessing the water directly from my aunt and uncle’s cabin, which is a waterfront property a couple of doors down, by way of the staircase they’ve constructed leading down to the rocky beach.
Recently, I travelled to Guatemala and Mexico. During my time there, I met a number of individuals who told me I was “a very nice Canadian girl,” who expressed concern for my safety and who asked why I didn’t have a Canadian flag on my backpack.
Winnipeg is a city that was built on the expectation of cheap and unlimited fuel and land spreading out over the prairie landscapes.
No lecture prepared me for the shift from disillusioned academic to young working professional.
“You’re trash, human garbage.” I see these words, dehumanizing in any context, far too often on social media.
In her book Regarding the Pain of Others, Susan Sontag challenges the supposed authority of the photograph in transmitting the pain of others, reminding that a photo is fixed by a frame and that it always already contains a point of view.