If you’ve ever watched the “Karate Kid” or any martial arts films, the biggest theme is how the “bad guys” are always disciplined through violence. Getting around the harsh world means beating each other up, which yields a cycle of good vs. evil – no longer “self-defence”, but revenge.

That’s what I thought too until actually doing it myself. It took me 3 years for my parents to convince me to even step into a “dojo”. I imagined walls of punching bags, brawls on creaky wooden floors until people passed out, and an army of fighters yelling while performing memorized attacks in unison. When you search up “karate”, you see high kicks, fierce punches, and eyes reflecting killer mentalities.

Fighting has been used for entertainment for centuries, but only in recent decades did it become televised. Is it really a safe sport? Will it produce aggressive and violent outlaws?

The media portrays martial arts as brutal and inhumane, with arrogant fighters challenging their enemies, or criminals seeping with aggression, anger issues, and greed. Martial arts films don’t realistically show what it truly is. I mean, there were probably gangs, crimes, or rough neighbourhoods like the ones in the movies and may even exist today, but practicing martial arts doesn’t mean you’re a member of a gang either.

Don’t get me wrong – I love watching the gut-wrenching, explosive combats. Martial arts is the pinnacle of entertainment and my gushing source of adrenaline, adding excitement to my boring life. But behind the action are powerful progressions countering racial stereotypes; like Bruce Lee as an influential Asian fighter, on the big screen, showcasing his diverse techniques, focus, and legacy. Plus, the sport has dramatically changed, with regulations and rules set in place to reduce injury risks; and instead extract the purpose martial arts was created in the first place: to strengthen the mind and body.

When people uncover that I practice karate, their utmost expressions of shock – as if I’m a vastly different person after knowing I have capabilities to “throw some blows” – are especially predictable. I feel inexplicably gutted that people don’t see the value of martial arts: that you don’t have to be emotional or even athletic to try it. I’ve learned it helps me focus and filter out life’s stresses.

Point is, you don’t know what something is until understanding it. Martial arts is universal. No matter where you live, what language you speak, or how old you are; anyone can try. It promotes confidence, resilience, discipline, community, and mindful behaviour that can’t be expressed the same in today’s conservative society.

According to the world health organization, depression from academic pressure in students is increasing rapidly every year. From 2017 to 2018, there were 4% more applicants to U.S. universities, yet only 65% were accepted. Around 500 Janpanese students commit suicide every year, and from 2009 to 2015, an increase of 30% of American students reached out for campus counselling despite the enrollment only increased 5%. However, the standard of living in the countries where these reports originated have an abundance of resources for learning which should pave a successful future. How come the worst cases of depression come from the places with the most amount of resources? The statistics all point to one sole factor: academic pressure.

Even though academic pressure is a combination of numerous factors such as competitive spirit and peer pressure, it all leads to the extreme desire for high grades. Higher grades mean greater possibility of acceptance from better universities and colleges, which means more knowledge and choices, thus leading to more opportunities, which means more power and a greater sense of control over our lives, and that sense of control puts us at ease. Since grades and GPAs act as representatives students use to prove their worth and intelligence, it causes worrying and distress, but so much to the point where it becomes intoxicating and unhealthy.

My therapist suggested that I go on walks for my mental health. It’s no surprise that such a strategy results in improved mood and reduced risks for mental illnesses including anxiety and depression. And I have to admit, the fresh air and marginal exercise did help boost my serotonin production. Yet despite walking in my own neighbourhood- my home for the last 17 years- I still find myself constantly checking behind me at the sounds of any potential threats.

Globally, 30% of women aged 15 and older have been subjected to physical and or sexual violence by a partner or non-partner at least once in their life, with most violence being perpetrated by someone intimately known.

One would think that such numbers are comforting to young women, that the likelihood of being assaulted by a stranger is next to none. But each time I hear a sound behind me when I walk alone, I quicken my pace, place my fingers on the power button of my phone, ready to press it five times as I’ve been taught, and prepare to sprint if the footsteps speed up with mine.

I, along with the vast majority of females, have learned to keep my head down and hold my keys between my knuckles to assuage the fear I feel each time I leave my home without a male. It’s disheartening to know such fears are universal to women and are normalized to the point where there are widely shared strategies and apps that aim to mitigate such trepidation.

I can acknowledge the increasing awareness that society has begun to grow, surrounding the uncertainty and lack of safety females feel in public places, yet my anxieties as a young woman have yet to subside. There is so much more change that everyone, but my generation specifically, can achieve to quell the apprehensions of all young women.

We deserve to be able to go on a walk for our mental health without the added anxieties of being jumped or harassed. We deserve the simple right to leave our house as our male counterparts do without fretting. We deserve to feel safe on the sidewalks of our own neighbourhood.

Do your part to make your community feel safer for the daughters and sisters of society. Cross the street if there’s a woman in front of you, offer to escort your female friends, and step in when you see a woman being objectified or harassed.

It was a pleasure to burn. Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 begins with a statement that not only introduces us to not only the climax of the novel, but also Bradbury’s intended meaning behind the story. During an interview where he was asked “What is the meaning behind the novel Fahrenheit 451?” Bradbury, an esteemed and talented author, simply responded: “TV is bad”.

While some speculate that Bradbury was lying about the meaning to let readers decide for themselves, I believe that Bradbury was actually communicating a much greater topic: The co-existence of humans and technology.

Recently, CES 2022 took place in Las Vegas. Many fascinating technologies were displayed, including the Dyson hair curler, flying cars, and more. Everything seemed amazing but, I believe we are walking down the path Bradbury predicted we would

In Fahrenheit 451, the protagonist’s wife, Mildred, barely speaks to him. She stays inside and watches her TV wall all day. In the first chapter, she even tries to kill herself by overdosing on sleeping pills. Screens are addicting for people of all ages and can consume relationships. Instead of healthy face-to-face interactions, people stay on their screens far too much. While there is importance in spending time with technology, Bradbury’s was worried about it consuming human relationships.

In 2018, Jean Twenge, professor of psychology at San Diego state authored a study about how, in 2016, 1 in 3 teens did not read a book for pleasure, but instead stayed on various social media platforms. Looking at screens physically prevents eye contact and human interactions, and teens lose the feeling of forming proper bonds with others.

Ray Bradbury’s blunt statement can be interpreted in many different ways. I believe he meant exactly what he said, but his words were muddled down from his true meaning: that technology cannot completely replace human interaction, or there will be severe consequences, starting from the potential termination of human interaction. Despite writing the novel in a ti

Try tweeting support for JK Rowling and Ellen DeGeneres. I guarantee that any such account would immediately become a target to the powerful social justice warrior force that is ‘cancel culture’. Even more likely is a subsequent TikTok video in response to the tweets. A sassy snap and hair flip are the perfect Gen Z sidekicks to the loud, overwhelming diss of the century: “Canceled”. With the age of ‘expression freedom’ through internet sharing platforms like Twitter and Instagram, cancel culture—the concept of ostracizing a person due to their beliefs and actions—has been amplified over the years. The phrase itself originated in 2014 with the infamous Harvey Weinstein trial and the #MeToo movement when social media advocates deemed Harvey Weinstein and similar sex offenders cancelled, effectively removing them from relevant entertainment circles and projects. Clearly, it’s powerful. With a history of little accountability from figures in power, cancel culture has allowed underrepresented minorities to hold revered figures accountable for their actions—and in the cases of Harvey Weinstein and Dolce&Gabbana, it has certainly achieved its purpose. But what are its unseen implications? I don’t even need to investigate the large-scale effects first. At my private, liberal-leaning school, its effects are already apparent; as my class has gotten older, we’ve often participated in topical discussions from vaccine hesitancy to pro-choice laws. Despite the lure of an ‘open’ conversation, I’ve seldom heard an opposing view speak up on controversial issues. Perhaps it’s because the last time it occurred in Grade 10, the student who began speaking on the validity of feminism was immediately shot down and humiliated by their classmates for the next month. Sure, their statement was not one that was widely agreed with but what are the harms of never allowing these voices to speak? Without open discourse, there is little chance for further understanding and education for anyone. Maybe cancel culture is in part an excuse to refuse to listen. Canceling itself is definite. Yet, the people that are subject to this phrase are often not. When celebrities and public figures are forever canceled, the message it provides young viewers and netizens? That mistakes are shunned. That perfection is the only path to avoid ostracism. I can’t help but wonder how this type of language has discouraged and frightened young voices. For teenagers like myself who are still trying to find their voice and their identity, this mantra is damaging to the growth and evolution that we all need to experience. I don’t propose we ‘cancel’ cancel culture (that would render this piece hypocritical, no?). Instead, finding a method of call-outs while still allowing individuals the ability to grow, evolve and learn from their mistakes is essential.