Scary situation for Winnipeg’s homeless

It was right in the middle of magazine crunch time. Our group had just finished compiling the PDF of our first draft and were just starting to read the whole thing aloud and edit. Tensions were high already, and to top it all off there was a loud wailing coming from the atrium.

After a few minutes of the cries getting louder and louder, it was joined by someone yelling. I looked down the hallway to see a small man crying and hitting himself in the face. The security guard was yelling he had to leave the building. After about 10 minutes, the security guard got him up and escorted him out. The man was still crying hysterically, so with the gut feeling the man was just going to be left on the street, I followed them.

Sure enough, the man was sitting on the curb, in a fit of hysterics. I really didn’t want to leave him hitting himself in the face, so I went up to him and asked if he needed help, and when he continued to slap his head I reached for his hands and held them.

Immediately, he hugged me. The need for an embrace was so strong, I couldn’t help but hug him back. He was still crying, but was calming down, so there we sat, hugging, on the curb of William Ave.

Once he calmed down, I tried to find out what he needed but I couldn’t understand him. All I could do was sit beside him and rub his back. Another student came outside and was sitting with us, trying to help. A few group members also came outside to try and help. Eventually, he pointed to the bus stop, and the other student outside realized he had lost his bus pass.

“Here! I have bus tickets, would you like one?”

Immediately, he stopped crying and nodded. He wiped his face, took the bus tickets, thanked us, and walked away.

I see him wandering through the atrium every few days now. I get a kick out of him, he always has a different jacket on. Sometimes he sees me and he nods. Other times he looks blankly past me.

It’s because of this experience, and a few other eye-opening interactions with Winnipeg’s homeless, that the reports of someone targeting and murdering them in the places they call home makes me sick to my stomach.

Homeless people are people. Many having faced struggles, mental illness and addiction. But, they are people-with the same needs as everyone else. They are often misunderstood and the victims of assumptions based off stereotypes. I was often guilty of being stand-offish when approached by someone on the street. But after a year of going to school in the heart of the Exchange District, I learned these presumptions were unnecessary and coming from a place of fear.

I hope police catch whoever is targeting these innocent people is caught before any more lives are lost.

And I hope to see my friend roaming the atrium when I get back to school in the fall, wearing a new snazzy jacket.

I came up with an app idea for Shwarma Khan, and here’s how I’d market it

In class the past few weeks we’ve been looking at apps, and had the opportunity to come up with an app idea for a local company that doesn’t have one, sketch it out and design the layout, create a prototype and now we get to come up with a marketing plan.

I decided to create an app for Shwarma Khan, because I think it would be awesome to be able to order Shwarma wraps or plates while enjoying a Winnipeg Blue Bomber game at Investors Group Field.

So if I was to market this, what would I do?

The app can be used at the McDermot Avenue location, but the main draw will be at football games. What better time to launch the app than on the Winnipeg Blue Bombers season home opener? In an ideal world, the app would be in partnership with the Bombers, therefore the app could have advertisements for the Bombers and the Bombers could promote the app, as it would add a convenient service to game attendees. So for the launch, there could be a coupon printed on the back of tickets for Shwarma Khan app users, where if they download and order off the app and use the promotional code on their ticket, they get a certain percentage off. There could also be advertising for the feature on the Winnipeg Blue Bombers website and social media feeds, as well as the Shwarma Khan’s social media feeds to promote buzz around the new feature and word of mouth.

The key message and incentive to these potential users would be convenience. The app allows you to order food at the game without having to leave your seat and stand in line to order it, and your wait time is spent watching the game. The convenience extends to the Exchange District location as well, where even if they don’t have a delivery option, you can order your food when you are about to leave work for lunch, and have it ready when you get there. Instant time saver.

Admittedly, I could be off base with this budget, because cre comms don’t do math. But I estimate, based on the cost of Shwarma Khan and the amount of seats at Investors Group Field, to be under $9,000 if every ticket had a 25% coupon on it, plus the labour needed to deliver food. If that’s way off base, I never claimed to be a business expert.

Ta da! App idea complete.

– 30 –

The big 3-0.

As I kiss another decade of my life goodbye I can say one thing with certainty: I must have learned all the hard stuff by now.

I guess you could argue age one to 10 is pretty intense, you know, learning to walk, talk, be a human being…but you get playtime and recesses to lessen the blow.

In hindsight, age 10 to 20 was a breeze. I remember not feeling that way at the time, though. I was a little jerk throughout my teenage years and everything bad that happened was the end of the world. The world never ended, and nothing that happened in this decade, other than me growing up into an actual person, really mattered.

The last decade, 20 to 30, was different. You learn who you are as an adult. You discover your interests and really define yourself as a person. No longer are you concerned of what everyone else is doing, you start to only care about things you like, and you stop being ashamed if it’s different.

And when you fall, it hurts. Whether by your own mistakes or having the rug ripped out from under your feet, it sucks. Maybe it’s because you’re taller and when you fall you have farther to go, or maybe it’s because you’re far more invested. You have some time accrued, and starting from scratch feels like a setback.

The last few years of my 20s were the best and the worst. I met someone, married that someone, and am now in the process of divorcing that someone. During the same year, I lost two dear friends who passed away far too young, and my pet cat died, which seems to pale in comparison—but it hurt just as much.

Yet, I’m still here. Even though some days I feel like I’m barely surviving, I did and I’m better for it. Being in Creative Communications is a dream I never thought I’d ever achieve, and here I am. I’m even dating my best friend, which feels wonderful. I can genuinely say I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

So yes, the fall hurt, but I learned how to pick myself back up.

I’ve been whining the past few weeks about being 30, about being old. But after all the love I received today from new and longtime friends, I realized I’m being silly. My age really means nothing. It’s just a number that describes nothing about me, really, other than how long I’ve been on earth.

So here’s to another decade. There is so much to learn, enjoy, and experience and so much left to appreciate. It will go by in a blink of an eye.

 – 30 –

Tomato Tomâto makes it’s grand entrance

Photo by Tedi Gilmartin

For the whole semester, all the first-year creative communications have been tirelessly working on creating a magazine from scratch. The time has finally come to debut our hard work.

Our magazine is Tomato Tomâto, a gourmet food magazine with a social media twist. We have lots of exciting things planned for our booth, including a Twitter contest which you can follow @tomatotomatomag .

Please, join us! The magazine fair will be held tomorrow, April 2nd from 12pm-4pm at Red River College’s Exchange District Campus!

  

Winnipeg snapshots

Over the past few months, I’ve been sent out into the Exchange District and surrounding area with my camera. Usually, it’s for a specific purpose, like a weather photo, or practicing depth of field in photography. While out and about, I’ve snapped a few photos of things I feel are interesting, but have nothing to do with my assignment so I don’t hand it in.

Now I have a collection of photos on my hard drive that are collecting digital dust. So, for your viewing pleasure, I’ve decided to put the growing collection here. Whether you love Winnipeg, hate Winnipeg, or are indifferent, there is always something interesting to see. It can be a new angle of a well known monument, or something as simple as a shoe left on the street, but there is always something new and beautiful you can find.

below: Peatr Thompson hits the carpet on the first day of spring.

Exploring Kenora

A few weeks ago, a group of friends and I went on a travel assignment to Kenora, ON. We had a lot of fun and aside from doing our assignment, we also had the chance to practice our photography skills. My friend Claire and I climbed up onto a train bridge to grab some shots, and promptly got chased off it by a train. It was terrifying, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Kenora is a beautiful town, and I’d love to make the trip there more often. It felt like the perfect little vacation only two and a half hours away.

Here is Claire, happy to be alive as the train whizzed by through the bridge we were in moments before.

The future of the newspaper

I had a nightmare.

There was no print. News was spread through Facebook posts, “You’ll never believe what the mayor did yesterday! Click here to find out!” and “If this post gets 1,000 likes, we’ll tell you the verdict on that criminal case!” Buzzfeed took over, and every update hidden among a million gifs and categorized into lists: 21 things you need to know about the newest tax hike, 44 reasons rapid transit failed, 67 ways you can be a better citizen of Winnipeg. Everyone was a news reporter, everyone had a camera. No facts were checked, no privacy honoured, and there were spelling errors and comma splices everywhere.

Okay, so it sounds ridiculous, but really—how far off is it?

It’s not out of the realm of possibility that within the next 10 years, print might be gone. I hope I’m wrong, I hope the morning newspaper will always be available to flip through, that the cold Metro guy at my bus stop will always be there to hand me a crisp, new copy of the daily news. I hope the Saturday paper will always be in our household, favourite sections pulled out and scattered. Then again, I hoped printing photos would always be necessary, because I couldn’t fathom living without hard copies of my memories. The fact remains that things change, and things are going digital.

So how does a paper stay afloat in a digital world, providing actual breaking news, thoughtful and well-educated columns, and maintain the integrity of journalism when everything is available free of charge and advertisements make far less revenue?

The Winnipeg Free Press has been hinting there might be changes coming to combat this. First, Paul Samyn’s New Year’s article hinting of a big year ahead, then accounts needing to be created in order to access the site, then most recently, this article that says the Winnipeg Free Press will be limiting free content on it’s digital stream in 2015.

Of course, people flipped. It’s a bad move, I’m not paying for stuff I can get free elsewhere, why should I have to pay for news, what a rip off, etc etc blah blah blah.

I’m definitely biased. I get frustrated with these responses because that’s my future. My dream job is to get paid to write articles that hopefully
people want to read. When people say they don’t want to pay, I feel like that’s one more little obstacle in front of me, one less job position open, one more seed of doubt in my head that I’ve set myself up for failure with this.

The thing is, even if I wasn’t pursuing this for a living, I would still hate those inaccurate Facebook posts, and still I hate the ignorant comments attached to them even more. I hate not being able to trust what I’m reading on the internet, and I hate falling for those stupid advertisements written like an actual news story. Damn you, garcinia cambogia!

Having free content is great, but let’s be realistic. The best news sources are businesses, the Winnipeg Free Press, to the Globe and Mail, to the New York Times. These businesses need to make money in order to continue to run. Refusing to pay for quality news will have consequences eventually. I just hope it’s not a scenario of not knowing what you have until it’s gone.

The best of Winnipeg, the worst of Winnipeg

Grey. Dirty. Warm, but wet and bone chilling. My car is filthy, I’m out of windshield wiper fluid and my uggs are salt stained. The dog is constantly covered in mud which means I am constantly covered in mud. I hate slush, melting snow piles covered in gritty sand, and ice hidden under puddles.

Then there are days like today. Sunny, bright, and beautiful. Everyone is friendly, happy, loving life. The sun is out, the air is fresher and you can feel the sun kissing your skin. You suddenly remember what it’s like to go outside and not curse the winter months. You start to get excited for summer, because there is a new glimmer of hope that spring has finally come, and summer will sneak in as swiftly as the snow is melting.

This is spring time for me in Winnipeg. A constant ebb and flow of love and hate.

This year the big melt seems to be happening quickly. Last year, if you remember, we were not as lucky:

This was me last MAY. There was still at least a foot of snow on the ground in some areas, and as you can see, the ice was still thick enough to walk on, or in my case, relax on. This year, the river trail is already closed, and on a trip to Kenora this week I witnessed full, open water.

Let’s cross our fingers and hope Winnipeg can dodge the inevitable April snowstorm.

Mo Money, Mo Problems? More like no money…

I’m a student. I’m not a starving student, but I definitely am the student who doesn’t have the time or money to do all the extra cool things I’d like to this coming spring. And there are a lot of cool things to see coming up. So instead of wallowing in self pity, I’m going to share all the things I would do, and you lovely readers can attend all of them and I can live vicariously through you while eating Mr. Noodles and watching Modern Family.

The Book of Mormon is coming to Centennial Concert Hall

I wanted to see The Book of Mormon for years. I didn’t get a chance to see it in New York City the few years ago I was there, and I’ve regretted it ever since.

By the same guys who wrote South Park, The Book of Mormon is about two young missionaries who are sent to Uganda to convert people to the Mormon religion. I’ve heard it’s really funny and it’s even won a Tony award for best musical. It’s running from March 17 to March 22 and tickets range from $60.25 – 116.20.

Ed Sheeran. Enough said.

Ed Sheeran, that beautiful, red haired and mysterious man, will be in Winnipeg on June 12 at the MTS centre. Tickets are $73.00 – $90.00. You should go while I sit in my pjs listening to Thinking Out Loud on repeat.

Marilyn Manson coming to Winnipeg

Don’t judge me. I won’t judge you. He’ll be here April 9th in all his washed up glory at the MTS centre for $63 – $125.

Winnipeg Folk Festival 2015

I’ve never gone to Folk Fest but hear how awesome it is every year. I never really feel like I miss out because I am usually pretty out of the loop in regards to the artists performing. This year, the line up is killer. and I have no money, and no time. Poor me. check out the website for more information.

My heart in Mexico

This post was written from afar. I spent reading week not in the cold weather, but in the hot sun on the beautiful beaches of Mexico. Playa del Carmen, to be exact.

After some time to relax, unwind and de-stress, I started thinking about why I come here, and why I will continue for years to come. Why I don’t have the heart to pass it up one year to try Cuba, or Jamaica, or even a different region of Mexico.

Close to eight years ago, I was introduced to a very cold and barely English-speaking guy named Julio at Christmas. He had met the love of his life while she was teaching English down in Mexico, and had decided to move here in the middle of one of the coldest winters ever.

The whole evening we talked to each other, politely smiling because neither of us knew what the hell the other was saying. I knew we had the same sense of humour when he was asked, “so Julio, what does your family have for Christmas dinner back in Mexico?” and he responded, “pit bull.”

For years we got to see him flourish here, despite the winters. He learned English in record time and started attending university. He married the love of his life and they had two beautiful daughters. He got involved in MMA fighting, and he excelled. He started competing, and would excitedly describe to us, with way too much glee for someone as loving and caring as him, how he’d broke someone’s arm in a previous match.

And then he got pancreatic cancer.

I only saw him once when he was sick. I regret that. His fighting mentality kicked in right off the get go, and I was quiet and awkward, not knowing what to say, what he wanted or didn’t want to hear. When I said goodbye that one visit, he grabbed my hand and smiled, gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, as he always did. That was the last time I saw him. He passed away June 2013. He was 27.

His wife and kids returned to Mexico with his family, she needed the family support and said that Mexico was comforting. I didn’t quite understand until I went down the following February for vacation.

Two things happened on that visit. I saw Julio everywhere. In the culture, the accents, the mannerisms of the people, it was all him. I also jumped at the chance to meet up with his wife and kids, and saw the difference it had made. The kids were happy, speaking the fluent Spanish that Julio had taught them. His wife explained how the culture honours the dead, how she knew Julio is always with her, and how the family had been such a huge help in her and her kids’ healing process. They are a loving culture, family-oriented and hard working. It was obvious why Julio was the way he was.

This year, I felt the same way as soon as we left the chaos that is the Cancun airport and stepped into the hot, welcoming sun. I thought of Julio right away, and this time, I wasn’t the only one.

While nursing our sunburns in the hotel lobby with a few mojitos, my friend said, after his first day in Mexico, “You really do see Julio everywhere here, don’t you?”