To be clear, the paper itself isn’t melting. As far as my limited knowledge of physics goes, paper can’t melt. Perhaps metaphorically, this issue has shrunk like a spring snowman from its usual form into a compact 12-page package, though it’ll expand again next week.
But the world outside the offices and homes and coffee shops and various other locations where the work that goes into this paper is created – these spaces are all slowly, finally melting.
For students, this is the home stretch, or at least the beginning. Maybe some people feel like they might be slowly congealing under their final deadlines, but hopefully, no one is fully melting either (because physics).
Under all the weight of the snow (and of deadlines), there’s a world we haven’t seen in quite a while. Water is, once again, wet. It’s a marvel, but do be careful not to stare into those roadside puddles too long, or you might get splashed and sprayed by a passing car.
In March, many of us have to still keep moving, but it’s heartening to know that soon, this world will shift and grow again. We still have words to write and stories to tell. Under the frosty cover of snow, winter’s plans are coming to fruition.
At March’s tail end, we’ll host Jeff Emtman for our second-last Uniter Speaker Series event of the year (see the back page of this issue for details). And while the papers are winding down, the events have a little spring in their step. We’ve partnered with the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives to host Boots Riley for another event on May 12.
So while we’re vacillating between winter footwear and rainboots, keep your collective chins up. We’re melting! And after a long winter, that’s got to be a good thing.
– Anastasia Chipelski