Registering for Frosh at the beginning of August was anxiety inducing, mainly because it prompted me to start thinking about the social interactions that university would bring. At the bottom of the email explaining how to register, as if it was an aside, there was a paragraph indicating that in order to participate in Frosh, it was required that every student complete an online seminar about consent. After reading a bit about the seminar, I felt inclined to avoid it until the last minute. When I finally steeled myself into clicking the link, I realized I had been right to be reluctant.

The video seminar, entitled “It Takes All of Us,” involves a robotic voice detailing example situations in which consent is important or unclear. There is very little done to engage the student watching it, and so I sat in my grandma’s kitchen in August, clicking through the modules and trying to not get too bogged down by the onslaught of statistics and cutesy advice. I tried to finish the seminar as quickly as I could, and I’d be surprised if I was the only one in 7,000 incoming students to rush through it. The information was presented in a way that allowed people to give it as much or as little attention as they desired. This is not how we can meaningfully work towards eradicating sexual violence. There are definitely some students for whom the program would have been triggering, and while it is true that the same can be said about many types of consent education, a marked lack of respect for these students is evident, even within the title. A formal, engaging, and wellstructured dialogue about these topics during Frosh is necessary, as this online format felt like it sidelined students’ experiences for the sake of convenience.

A formal, engaging, and well-structured dialogue about these topics during Frosh is necessary, as this online format felt like it sidelined students’ experiences for the sake of convenience.

Because of how uninvolved and casual the program was, I assumed that this was the first part of a larger consent training that McGill would mandate participation in. At a certain point I realized that the five minute conversation our Frosh leaders had with us about the ban on relationships between “Froshies” and leaders was the last time they were going to formally bring up the topic of consent. The word “formally” is of the utmost importance here, because the catchy, informal phrase “consent is sexy” was, in fact, repeated countless times over the course of Frosh.

To put it simply: the “consent is sexy” rhetoric is harmful and dangerous. Consent is not sexy, consent is what distinguishes sex from rape. I’ve never heard anyone say that “rape is unsexy,” as a way of promoting the importance of consent, because to do so would be to belittle the experiences of survivors of sexual violence. Funnily enough, saying that “consent is sexy” accomplishes the exact same thing – while simultaneously oversimplifying a complex issue. The onus in this circumstance is not on the Frosh leaders, but on the University’s administration for relegating consent education to the sidelines.

Consent is not sexy, consent is what distinguishes sex from rape.

On the first day of Frosh, there was a list of tasks that each group competed to finish first. One of these tasks was to “explain why consent is sexy.” Hearing this set off alarm bells in my head, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Nothing about my group members’ explanations was offensive or inaccurate, but nothing about the seminar had been insensitive either (aside from the title). All of these things could have sufficed as components of a broader consent training program. My discomfort stemmed from the fact that McGill’s consent education was centered on making consent palatable. It’s presumed to be an unpleasant conversation to have and therefore it was instead dealt with in the margins, at the leisure of each incoming student and in a funny, casual way.

In a video introducing the seminar, Principal Suzanne Fortier describes the training as “required learning for each one of us, including [herself ]”. This statement, along with the title, suggest that each member of the McGill community plays an equal role in preventing sexual violence. The program successfully addresses the ways in which each individual is affected by consent as it covers what to do as a bystander, someone in a sexual situation, and someone supporting a survivor. However, by providing incoming students and faculty or administrators with the same training it disregards the differences in power that characterize a university environment. My role in preventing sexual violence is different from the role of Professor Manfredi, the Provost and VicePrincipal, who claimed to be “proud” to have already completed the modules in an email addressed to students. It is the responsibility of the University to do more than just the bare minimum, which is what this seminar is. The role of the Administration should be to actively support and protect the student body.

My discomfort stemmed from the fact that McGill’s consent education was centered on making consent palatable.

The rhetoric within the seminar portrays it as an effective tool in combatting sexual violence on campus because of its mandatory nature. A more effective strategy would be to provide separate training for faculty and students, because the reality of consent is affected by the position one occupies. Within the online seminar, it is stated that there is a higher risk of sexual violence during the first eight weeks of the semester. The alcohol-fueled nature of the frosh activities coupled with the fact that, for many students, this is the first time away from home, creates a hyper-sexualized environment. Clearly, this is understood by the coordinators, who provided us with condoms in our Frosh bags. It is also evidently understood that such circumstances lend themselves naturally to higher incident rates of sexual violence. Yet instead of addressing the issue in a meaningful way, priority was placed on making sure nothing interfered with the fun of the week. It’s true that an in-depth, multifaceted training about consent would not be fun, but isn’t that kind of the point? There are people who need to feel uncomfortable, who need to be made to genuinely consider the reality of what consent means — because the alternative (sexual violence) is significantly more unpleasant than a comprehensive and informative workshop.

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I’m Afraid of Men by Vivek Shraya (2018)
Kate Ellis (Culture)
content warning: gender dysphoria, transphobia, homophobia, sexual harassment

Raw, real, and refreshing, this 2018 creative nonfiction piece tackles gender and how we view femininity and masculinity. It is a breath of fresh air in the world of cis authors writing sappy “wrong-body” narratives and just plain-old getting it wrong. I’m Afraid of Men perfectly articulates those feelings of not “doing” gender in a way that cis people approve of and the frustrations that come with it. It’ll hurt, make you uncomfortable, and make you go “ah, someone finally gets it,” all in one sitting. At 85 pages, you really have no reason not to read it.

Aye, and Gomorrah, and Other Stories by Samuel R. Delany (2003)
Phoebe Pannier (Illustrations)
content warning: suicide

Every story in Aye, and Gomorrah is unified by the idea of displacement – no matter how many galaxies may exist between its settings. Samuel R. Delany’s collection features protagonists who are, in one way or another, part of a diaspora. First published in 2003, the stories were mostly written in the 1960s and 70s. When reading it, though, it doesn’t feel like your typical 1960s sci-fi. In many ways, even today this collection pushes the envelope with its questions about sexuality and relationships. Other themes include communication (both in terms of linguistics and in terms of interpersonal connection), mythology, and complex epistemologies (it sounds pretentious, but I swear it isn’t). Aye, and Gomorrah, and Other Stories is a good way to dip your toes into Delany’s challenging but ultimately worth it, prose.

Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer (2002)
Cadence Thakur (Staff Writer)
content warning: genocide, anti-semitism

Published by Jonathan Safran Foer in 2002, Everything is Illuminated is a historical fiction novel written from autobiographical and epistolary points of view. It chronicles three narratives detailing the author’s own fictionalized journey to Ukraine accompanied by a quirky translator, an old chauffeur, and a one-eyed dog. As they search for Augustine, a woman who saved his grandfather from the Nazis, Safran Foer spins a tale that’s brilliant, hilarious, and all too real (despite the hints of magical realism which pepper the text). This novel takes you on a wild ride that’ll have you screaming with mirth, laughter, and tears until the very end.

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado (2017)
Willa Holt (Sci+Tech)
content warning: abuse, sexual assault, gendered violence

Through a new take on an old fable and a series of other short stories, Machado expresses the struggle of existing in the systems of womanhood. Her razor-sharp prose cuts to the heart of indescribable aspects of moving through the world as not only a woman, but as a gay woman. If you’re looking for lesbian art, beautiful writing, or an author who seems to just get it, look no further. Anything I write about this book would do it an injustice. Go read it.

Evicted: Property and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond (2016)
Rosa Sundar-Maccagno (Contributor)
content warning: racism, classism

Evicted discusses the reality of the housing market, with a specific focus on the lives of low-income tenants and their landlords, using Milwaukee as a model for other major metropolitan areas in North America. It reads like fiction, as it follows different individuals and families through their experiences. This book is brutally revealing and packed with statistics; because of the accessible way in which it’s written, you don’t realize how much you’re learning until you put it down. This book will remind you of the necessity of ending capitalism, but it will also make you smile and maybe even tear up.

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