Irrefutable proof of systemic homophobia at U of T appeared in last Monday’s Varsity: a photograph of the inside a toilet stall decorated with 4 lines of anti-gay graffiti. This is a shocking discovery indeed, a sad departure from the enlightened and tasteful political commentary which one expects to find scribbled on washroom walls. Strangely, the accompanying article quoted the president of OUT@UTM saying that “for gays on campus as a whole the environment is not threatening.” This might tend to cast doubt on the homophobia epidemic which, we are told, is gripping the university.
Thankfully, the Ontario Public Interest Research Group (OPIRG) also recently hit campus newsstands with a “social justice” publication entitled Actions Speak Louder. Even if you’ve never read it, you’re probably already paying for “Actions.” A $1.00 levy from every student who doesn’t specifically ask for their money back every September is automatically sent to OPIRG. So what are you getting for your money?
A Molotov cocktail appears on the back cover, an ominous hint of the kind of “action” which OPIRG might endorse. The inside is less dramatic-plugs for the LGBTOUT levy, feminist groups, and a vegetarian restaurant. Like LGBTOUT, these claim to be more than just clubs and special interest groups-they are struggling against some ominous evil on behalf of the rest of us.
Indeed, “Actions” proves that anyone can play the “social justice” game. First, write down a list of reasons to feel sorry for yourself. Then, invent a “coalition” or “collective” with a separate hotmail account for each of them. OPIRG will cut you a student-funded cheque.
Now comes the fun part. Pretend to be a persecuted hero fighting against “patriarchy,” “hegemony,” or “the elite.” Attend a few protests, put up a few posters if you feel like it. But remember, “the personal is political,” so you can congratulate yourself just for dressing a certain way, sleeping with certain people, or not eating meat.
If you really think that being gay, being a woman, or being obliged to pay for your education means that the cards are somehow stacked against you, take a walk down to College and Spadina. Tell the first drug-addicted street person you meet how your life has been made miserable by the obscenity you saw in the washroom. While you’re at it, explain how the best possible use for $25,000 would be printing more rainbow stickers to put on office doors.
U of T needs a lot less “social justice,” and a lot more social responsibility. Social responsibility starts by recognizing that if you go to school here, you’re already in the elite. In a knowledge-based global economy, you have a top-notch education and access to all the opportunities of a first-world metropolis. Most people on this planetwould do anything to be in your shoes.
From those to whom much has been given, much is expected. We have a moral duty to help those less fortunate than ourselves. Fortunately, many at U of T have taken up this challenge. Frontier College sends students into high schools and homeless shelters to share literacy skills. Engineers Without Borders promotes human development worldwide through the spread of technology. These groups and many others like them skip theself-indulgent whining about “social justice” and use their skills in a concrete way to help others.
Unfortunately, most in the “social justice community” at U of T are too busy fighting the man to bother with social responsibility. But in one hundred years, I suspect that the man will still be standing, and they’ll have accomplished nothing beyond wasting their time and students’ money.
