I’m thinking about this vision I had for my life as a kid. I saw myself living in a hundred-year-old bungalow, with creaky floors and incense burning and classical music on the radio. There were cats, and maybe someone who loved me living their life in tandem with mine.
The Christmas I was in kindergarten, my aunts gifted me a really cute denim jacket – the kind I would be stoked to wear today. I remember looking at my five-year-old self in the mirror as I tried it on, and feeling, for the first time, deeply ashamed of my body. I looked … big, which in my mind, already equated to bad. This was the first time I decided I was ugly. (It wasn’t the jacket’s fault.)
When I set out to write a piece about safe spaces, I quickly realized something: I had no idea what a safe space really meant.
As this issue hits the stands, we’ll be in the tail end of January, a dark, cold month in Winnipeg.
We live in an age where our voices can be heard by the masses with just a few clicks of a button.
The perception people often have of someone being successful usually goes hand in hand with seeing that person as happy.
Over the next week, voting is open for this year’s Uniter Fiver contest. The top five finalists this year – Baseball Hero, Dinner Club, House Handshake, Jamboree and Mister K – were chosen from among this year’s open call to bands.
Some weeks ago, in a moment of spontaneity sponsored by happenstance and financial permission, I treated myself to the recently-released Suspiria remake.
Walkability is a broad concept, with an ambiguous working definition along the lines of “how friendly a place is to walking."
By now, it might be starting to sink in that it really is January. It really is a new year. And we really are back to whatever routines that entails … kind of.
This week’s issue is a special one, though its theme and format has shifted throughout the years.
Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR), observed on Nov. 20 each year at the University of Winnipeg and in hundreds of cities around the world, is an event whose purpose defies a universal definition.
A few kilometres southeast of Gretna, Man. sits a spacious lodge on a dirt road, steps away from the Canada-US border.
There’s a subtle thread of shifts and changes running through some of the articles in this week’s issue.
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.
When my house burned down at age 13, I assumed that all material evidence of my childhood was lost forever.
For those not living in the context of an academic calendar, mid-November could seem like an odd time to start going on about almost being in January. We’ve barely even got enough snow to cover the grass!
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?
Another election has come and gone, and I think I speak for everyone when I say, “Yes, but what about the next episode of Riverdale?”