A Conversation with Emily

With a tip of the cap to David Brooks and Gail Collins…

Jim:

I realize I may be treading in politically incorrect waters here, Emily, but I’ve been thinking about the 100th anniversary of the Titanic’s sinking and in particular about the notion of “women and children first.” If the same sort of disaster occurred today (note how I deftly skip over any mention of the “Costa Concordia”), would it be appropriate for the ship’s leader to shout out that familiar if somewhat anachronistic phrase?

Emily:

Jim, you aren’t just treading in politically incorrect waters, you’re sinking in them. Holding back (initially at least!) from the obvious gender-based argument, even from a basic, practical perspective “women and children first” has no place in 21st century disaster management. What is the goal of an evacuation during a life-threatening situation? Surely it’s to save the most lives possible. With that as our primary objective, I agree that children should be among the first removed from a crisis.

They are, almost always, if not physically weaker, than less emotionally or mentally robust. Once all the children are saved, the next people to evacuate should be the weakest adults – regardless of gender. That would leave the strongest – those most able to outlive a disaster situation – behind to fend for themselves until help arrives. Would you really force a strong woman, who has a good chance of being able to successfully wait for her survival, into a lifeboat while telling an out of shape, elderly man who won’t last for long in adverse conditions he must sacrifice himself simply because of his sex? Seems awfully discriminatory about men…

Jim:

Emily, I’d like to make a reference from “The Iliad” to show you the error of your ways, but l will have settle for a “Seinfeld.”

You may recall the episode where George Costanza thinks he is in the middle of fire, and he impulsively knocks over women and children (not to mention a clown!) in order to escape from the apparently burning building. Later, when it is discovered that the alarm was false, he finds himself the object of ridicule because he understands that has violated a deep and unwritten code.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuP9YClyPRY

I think that code goes back to a heroic notion, perhaps an old fashioned one, that we expect men, particularly in a time of crisis, to deny themselves, to put the needs of others first.

The woman with whom I live, by the way, thinks that the correct response should be “mothers and children first” because you wouldn’t want a boat full or orphans. Of course, since she is a mother herself, someone other than I might suggest that this may be an example of enlightened self-interest!

Emily:

Jim, the flaw in your Seinfeld example is that while George was ridiculed for knocking over others while running out of what he thought was a burning building is that, in today’s world of greater (yet still imperfect) equality between men and women, the same ridicule would have been directed to Elaine if roles in the story were reversed.

In fact, going back to my previous argument, looking at Elaine and George, Elaine is the fitter and presumed stronger of the two characters. If she knocked George over as she ran out of a burning building, she would deserve to be mocked even more than he because she would have been better conditioned to survive prolonged exposure to smoke, etc.

Your idea of a “code of manliness” is inherently sexist because it assumes that only men are supposed to be heroic. By your rule, men are bound by duty to acts of heroism – it’s in their nature, it’s part of the social conventions governing their sex. But putting the safety of others before your own is not a “manly imperative” – it’s a human one. Whether it’s the act of a hero or a heroine has nothing to do with the end result or the praise they deserve.

We all agree that children should be evacuated first from a crisis, and I certainly see the logic in Mary’s belief that those children should not be left alone without at least one of their parents if at all possible. But is it not equally sexist (and indeed discriminatory against fathers) to limit which parent should be sent to safety with the children based exclusively on gender? Yes, mothers are still sadly saddled with most child-care duties – even in our modern, more gender equal world. But what of the fathers? Why should their responsibilities and ties to their children be made subservient the minute they are faced with a life or death situation? What of any single parents who happen to be male? What of two gay male parents?

Also, in terms of the depth you claim exists for “women and children first,” a quick google search will bring up the fact that it is a relatively new convention – first recorded in 1852 when the H.M.S. Birkenhead rammed a uncharted rock off of the shores of Cape Town and sank. The senior officer on that ship, which was carrying only seven “ladies” and 13 children out of 600 passengers and sailors, rebelled against what was then the Navy’s long-standing rule of “every man for himself” and defended at sword point the priority of the small group of women and children to board lifeboats.

In this case, I admire that senior officer (a Lieutenant Seton who sadly was not related to UCC’s own Lord Seaton) and believe that his actions were, in fact the right thing to do. Why? Because in the 19th century, those women were indeed the weakest passengers with the least chance of survival without access to lifeboats. If nothing else, the 19th century outfits they would have been wearing (heavy skirts, petticoats, corsets, etc.) would have made their ability to swim for any length of time impossible compared to the male sailors on board.

But, luckily, corsets aren’t a big trend in cruise wear today…

(Emily Kulin is UCC’s Manager, Campaign Communications and she puts the principal in his place on a regular basis.)

A Tale of Two Captains

In April we will mark the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, and even if you haven’t seen the glossy James Cameron film, in the coming months you will hear a lot about the “unsinkable ship” that hit an iceberg 450 miles south east of Halifax and sank, taking with it over 1, 500 lives. (By the way, the last known survivor, Millvina Dean, who was a baby on the Titanic, died just two years ago at 97.)

Beyond the sheer horror of the event itself, I have always been struck by the nobility of the men who perished, starting with Captain Edward John Smith, the captain who gallantly went down with his ship. Other men willingly stepped aside, as was the custom of the time, to let “women and children go first” into the lifeboats. According to witnesses, the men in the ship’s band tried to calm the panicked passengers by continuing to play until the very end; survivors reported that their last song was the old hymn, “Nearer My God to Thee.”

If you’ve been reading the newspapers in the last week, you can probably tell where I’m going with this because you know what happened on the cruise liner, the Costa Concordia. According to the CBC, Francesco Schettino, the Concordia’s captain, steered the ship too close to shore in order to “make a bow” to the people on an island, (what the non-nautical among us might describe as showing off) and then after the cruiser struck a rock and started to sink, the captain was among the first to jump ship.

It’s hard to say this with a straight face, but Captain Schettino claimed that he tripped and fell into a lifeboat. (I’m not making this stuff up.) To make matters worse, when he was found by the Coast Guard, Mr. Schettino actually refused their order to return to the ship to aid the stricken passengers. He is now under house arrest and facing charges of manslaughter.

If 13 passengers hadn’t died, this might pass as something out of “The Office.” I can almost hear Michael Scott’s explaining how he tripped and just happened to fall into the lifeboat.

It’s too easy to contrast the Titanic and Costa Concordia disasters, two nautical tragedies that took place a century apart. Over the course of 100 years we have made great strides in our efforts to become a more open and equitable society. Consider, for example, the plight of the people in the Titanic’s steerage compartment as just a small reflection of the social inequality that was all too common in 1912. While we have made progress with issues such as race, class, gender and orientation, along the way, we may have unintentionally lost sight of something important, something about the role and responsibilities of men.

The great strides women have made in terms of equality do not absolve men of the best traditions associated with manliness. Men have traditionally been called upon to deny themselves, to put the needs of others before their own. In light of this, it would be an overstatement to say that Captain Schettino represents modern man, but there is something in his actions that should deeply disturb all of us.

Before Dr. Adam Cox spoke here last fall, he did something unusual. He left the Laidlaw Hall stage and went straight into the audience in order to shake one boy’s hand, while boldly proclaiming, “Strength and honour!” This move surprised me; it seemed like something out of “Gladiator.” I was waiting for Adam to begin his speech with,

“My name is Maxiumus Desmus Meridius. Commander of the Armies of the North. General of the Felix Legions. Loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son. Husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.” (Forgive me but I’ve been waiting 10 years to use that line!)

Today we understand that putting others first does not imply a social hierarchy, but it is a mandate for us to care for others. We can still recognize that there is such a thing as honour, and we will be called to test that honour at any moment because our lives are a series of unchartered events. There are rocks and shoals everywhere, and we are eventually measured, not by the hazards that come into our lives, but by the way we deal with them.

Looking out at all of you this morning, I see unlimited potential. I know that right here, right now, there are daily opportunities for us to exercise our courage muscles and to promote a sense of honour. Remember the Old Boys who graced this room on Remembrance Day. Honour was very much at the core of what drove them, back when they were boys, to put themselves in harm’s way. It was about service to others. What they did, they did not for themselves, but for the greater good.

Today we, too, have a choice. We can choose to follow the lead of Captain Smith or Captain Shettino. The decision is yours. The right choice, of course, begins by putting others first.

When you next hear the call to “man up,” I hope you’ll remember — not those goofy beer commercials where they threaten to take away your “man card” — but those honourable Old Boys who put themselves on the line for God and country.

Coffee Shop Musings

Fate and a boys’ schools meeting finds me in San Francisco on a sunny January afternoon, and as I sit outside a coffee shop, trying to read the newspaper, I can’t help but overhear the conversation at my elbow.

A man in his 60′s, with a smile on his face, apparent contentment in his heart, and a low fat blueberry muffin in his hand, explains to his friend, “It’s the administration. Oh, I still love the students, and I do miss the class experience, but the bureaucracy of the whole thing. I just said, ‘I’ve had it’ and walked out the door last June!” His chum gives him a hearty handshake as he congratulates him on his decision…

Even in sunny California, there is the tension that seems to be built in to the DNA of schools. After working in several, on both sides of the desk so to speak, I see this clash of perspectives in terms of a mixing of metaphors.

When I was a teacher, I saw my school as the mall. I ran the Gap. My fellow teachers directed the ChessKing, Starbucks, and LuLu Lemon shops. There were administrators, of course, but these were shadowy figures and somewhat inessential to the core work.

Administrators did important things like maintaining the mail system and providing chalk on a regular basis. Had someone asked me what the school’s “strategic plan” entailed, I would have suggested, “Staying in business.” (I need to explain: The first two schools I worked at are now condominiums. I like to think of my being at each as something other than a cause-effect relationship with their eventual destinies.)

Most administrators, on the other hand, see schools as Canadian Tire Stores. Yes, individual teachers have a great deal of autonomy; each runs his or her own classroom, play, team, and advisory group. But administrators tend to view each of these operations as part of a collective; they are akin to the hardware, electronic, and automotive departments in larger box stores.

You don’t need to be Roger Martin, of course, to know that there must be another approach out there, one that avoids the black and white of the either/or. There must be something that gives teachers the independence they need while also providing for the organizational direction that administrators view as essential. Because we don’t want to lose any more apparently passionate teachers, like my coffee shop companion, and we don’t want any more schools to become two bedroom condos with high ceilings.

Tribute to a Queen

Good morning and welcome back to school. After two weeks off, it may have been a little rough getting out of bed early on this January morning, but I’m glad you made the effort!

January, as Ms. Erb might remind us, is named in honour of the Roman god Janus, the god of doorways and therefore transitions; he is depicted as having two heads, so that he is always looking both forward and backward.

Looking backward for just a second, consider all that took place in the world in the year 2011. TIME magazine summed it all up by saying it was The Year of the Protestor.

No one knows what 2012 has in store for any of us, but there is one story that will get a lot of play next month. In February, Queen Elizabeth will celebrate her Diamond Jubilee. Her 60 years on the throne is the 2nd longest reign ever by a British monarch, and if she continues in her role through 2015 –and why shouldn’t she — she will then surpass Queen Victoria as longest reigning monarch in history.

Queen Elizabeth also happens to be married to Prince Phillip, who is UCC’s official “Visitor.” The Board of Governors honoured the Prince by naming the area that is now the Student Centre after him, where the school displays his portrait, his personal flag, and a bronze plaque that commemorates the naming in 1979.. As a result, even an outsider like me feels a certain “Bertie Wooster-like” connection to the House of Windsor!

In his new book, “The Real Elizabeth,” Andrew Marr reminds us that world’s most famous woman was only 25 and in Kenya on a state visit when she learned that her father, King George VI, had died at the age of fifty-six.

She didn’t make a scene. She simply apologized that the tour had to be cancelled, and went about her business of becoming a monarch. When her plane returned to England, Prime Minister Winston Churchill greeted her on the tarmac, and since that day, her life has been consumed by the demands of her position.

Marr believes that Elizabeth has a religious sense of vocation, and it’s worth noting that, while she agreed to have her coronation televised, she insisted that the cameras not film the moment when she was anointed with holy oil by the Archbishop of Canterbury. She wanted the “God moment” to be a private and personal one.

As Queen of the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia, and as head of the Commonwealth, Elizabeth II represents 1/3 of the globe’s population. She has travelled the world, and even in her 80’s , she continues to meet with ministers and diplomats on a regular basis.

I confess that I am a late arriving member of the Queen’s fan club. When I was younger, I thought she was a bit stiff, even in a land known for its firm upper lips. (Forgive me!) Over time, though, I have come to appreciate the fact that the Queen represents all that is good about tradition. She is deliberately untrendy. I like to think of her as the antidote to Paris Hilton, and I am delighted that I’ve never seen the Queen weep openly with Ellen, or watched her bare her soul and or reveal her innermost anxieties on Oprah’s couch.

I am sure there are times when the Queen does weep. After all, she lost a King, a Queen, and a Princess, when her father, mother, and only sister passed away, and she has had to watch as 3 of her 4 children went through very public and very painful divorces. Through all of this, the Queen has endured.

This sense of forbearance is no accident. During World War 2, as London was being blitzed, her father insisted on staying put at Buckingham Palace, and despite the dangers, so did his daughters. No one would have blamed any of them for moving to a more secure location; after all, 40,000 Londoners would perish during the bombing raids. But the Windsors held their ground, and in fact, Elizabeth contributed directly to the war effort by training as a driver and mechanic.

I have a “Keep Calm and Carry On” poster in my office. The originals were displayed in London during the blitz as a way of rallying the collective resolve. It is hard to imagine anyone who more fully embodies this solid and sober sensibility than does the Queen.

You do not need to be a monarchist to have an appreciation for what Elizabeth Windsor has brought to her role as Head of State in terms of leadership and service to her people. Over the course of 60 years, the Queen has outlasted 12 prime ministers, 12 presidents, and 6 Popes. She has done her duty and so much more.

Being “steadfast” is a wonderfully old fashioned virtue. It is about ignoring the tenor and trends of the present, having a spine of steel, and possessing an unwavering sense of resolve.

In a boys’ school where we talk quite unashamedly about leadership, we could all learn a lot about this topic by studying the life of a remarkable 85-year-old British woman.

As we start this first day of school in the first month of the year, I hope that as we look backward and forward, the Queen might inspire all of us to be steadfast in fulfilling the duty to which each of us is called.

God Save the Queen!

Old Man and the C(ourts)

Every once in a while, when I was a kid playing basketball at a playground or in a school gym, I’d bump into one of “those guys.”

You may remember the type. They were gray-haired or bald. Some wore sweatbands, but because they insisted that games be played in the half court, there wasn’t much sweating to be done. Their pants were too short or too tight, or too out of style, and they sometimes wore old dress shirts that were missing buttons or sleeves, shirts that showcased a variety of tears, holes, and stains.

These guys didn’t shoot much, beyond the occasional “ride the tricycle” set shot, an offensive gesture from the Bob Cousy era. They couldn’t run or play defense, but the one thing they all seemed to have in common was an interest in and an aptitude for passing the ball. Since none of us were all that keen on giving up the rock, we were happy to humor them for a game or two.

For the life of me, though, I couldn’t figure out why these old guys kept coming out to play. Didn’t they have enough good sense to get off the court to let the young guns run? Why did they continue to drag their sorry games out for public ridicule? Weren’t there prunes to be consumed or a Lawrence Welk show to be watched?

*****

This morning, as I lay sprawled under the basketball hoop, grabbing my just sprained ankle, rolling from side to side, in a weak attempt to maintain manly readiness (hey, my sons were watching!), it suddenly dawned on me, that I had somehow turned into one of “those guys.”

I suddenly noticed that I was sporting black, last century sneakers and khaki pants. (Who is in his right mind wears Wal-Mart “bobos” and khakis to play basketball – and at a spiffy prep school no less?) But more than anything, it was the look on my son’s face that tipped me off. It was a facial expression that was right out of the 70’s. And it seemed strikingly and painfully familiar…

“You’re Cool” — A Memory

Many years ago, during my shaky first year as dean of students at a co-ed boarding school, during a Saturday night check in (a boarding school ritual that then required the adults on duty to do a “face to face” with each of the students in their dormitory), I smelled alcohol on Chris’ breath. Because the grade 12 boy immediately denied the charge, I had to find another adult to get a second opinion.

It was after midnight, so it took me a while to track down a teacher on duty. (This was in the pre-beeper, let alone pre-cell phone age!) By the time I found a colleague and returned to the dorm, the situation had changed. Chris’ room now reeked of peanut butter. If I were a betting man, I’d wager that Chris had consumed a whole jar of “Jiff” while I was away, looking for a colleague.

Chris again denied the charge, and because all we could smell at this point was peanuts, there wasn’t much anyone could do. I was disappointed that Chris hadn’t told me the truth, but chalked the experience up as yet another rookie mistake. In hindsight, I realized that I should have brought Chris with me, when I went to look for a teacher. Later that same year I would also learn that, before conducting a room search (a dreadful experience for everyone involved, by the way) it’s better to ask, “Is there anything in this room that shouldn’t be here?” rather than, “Do you have pot in your room?”

Six months later, just after his graduation ceremony, Chris approached me with a number of his dormitory classmates in tow. They were all smiling. “I want to thank you. I knew that you knew that I had been drinking that Saturday night last winter, but you let me off. I want you to know I appreciate that, and I also want you to know that I told all the other guys in the dorm that you’re cool.”

3 Wishes

Hong Kong, China

A father from Beijing shared his “3 wishes for my son” with me yesterday:

“I have 3 wishes for my son: IQ, EQ, and CQ. IQ is a given, but EQ is important because he needs to learn how to work well with others. In China, we have lots of one child families, so this is a crucial skill.

CQ is important, too. Twenty years from now, he may work anywhere from Vancouver to Venice, and I want him to be able to understand cultural differences. He will need to be able to connect with people with different languages, philosophies, and cultures. This is what I think is very important.”

Dust Up in DC

Because I spent most of my weekend at Midway, and because the folks who run the 2nd city’s 2nd airport didn’t want to keep running clips of the Bears’ losing to the utterly amazing Tim Tebow, I was treated to a nearly endless loop of Tom Brady’s “dust up” with his offensive coordinator, Bill O’Brien.

While throwing an interception is a normal part of the game, even for a passer like Brady, what was unusual was what took place immediately afterwards. If you weren’t at Midway, let me fill you in: Bill O’Brien, the Patriots’ offensive coordinator, blasted the Golden Boy, and told him in no uncertain terms what he had done wrong on the previous play. Brady responded in kind, which seemed to further ignite his coach. At one point, O’Brien ripped off his head-set and had to be physically restrained from going after #12.

While a big part of me leans toward Rodney King’s “Hey, why can’t we all get along?” philosophy, (I have a natural inclination towards moonwalking away from conflicts.) I found the exchange between the two men utterly refreshing. First, it’s great that a relatively obscure coach feels he can go after someone whose mug may someday grace the Mount Rushmore of football. A less courageous coach might have taken a less direct approach.

Had such a disagreement taken place in an academic environment, it would probably have been a google.mail “conversation,” and it would have gone something like this:

“Tom, is it ok if I call you ‘Tom’? Well, then, Mr. Brady, I was wondering if, in the future, if as you are scanning a ‘Cover Two’ and you happen see a receiver wide open in the flat, as a courtesy, you might, if you have the time and wherewithal, consider, as one of your many options, tossing the pigskin in his general direction. If you would like to talk about this sometime or exchange thoughts, suggestions, or ideas, please see me. If you think we should form a committee to explore this general area in more detail, that might make sense. We might also consider creating a task force to see how all of this relates to our strategic plan. Thank you for your help and consideration.”

Man of the Year

It’s the time of year when you can usually start a conversation with even the most reticent of folks by asking, “Who will be the man or woman of the year?” But this December, that question may a conversation-killer because the issue is a no-brainer.

The person of the year has to be Mohamed Bouazizi, the Tunisian fruit seller who responded to the overwhelming corruption and lack of freedom in his country by burning himself to death a year ago this week.

His self-immolation sparked the Arab Spring, a movement which has created changes that would have seemed completely unimaginable, even just a year ago.

The Montreal Massacre

Last Wednesday, the basketball team went up to play a game against Peel Central, and when our guys — who weren’t even wearing their spiffy first dress, blue-crested blazers — walked into the gym, one of the Peel students yelled, “Here comes Hogwarts!” It was a good line, and it sparked my thinking about the challenges we all face when we are outsiders. This morning, I’d like to offer 4 examples.

Example 1. Years ago, I was an outsider when I was awakened in the middle of the night in an Irish youth hostel, by a bunch of rambunctious Australians who were telling American jokes. I was slobberknockered that such a category of humor actually existed. The jokes, like the Australians themselves, were humorous and thought provoking, and that night those fun-loving gents from “down under” taught me something about perspective and about what it’s like to be the outsider.

A quick aside: I hadn’t heard an American joke because I’d always lived in the USA. You may not have heard a Canadian joke because of where you’ve lived, so in the spirit of public service, let me violate the first rule of public speaking –-“Never insult the audience” -– by telling you a Canadian joke. It’s not really all that insulting, and it was told to me by a Canadian, so it has “Canuck cred”:

“How do you get a bunch of rowdy Canadian college football players out of a swimming pool at 2 in the morning? You go down to the pool and say, ‘Please get out of the pool’.”

Ok. I didn’t say it was funny. But it suggests something of the understated and almost deferential politeness that is an endearing part of Canadian culture. (The second rule of public speaking is this: “If you do insult the audience, make up for it as quickly as possible.”)

Example 2. I was an outsider here at UCC a few years ago, when I asked Mr. Thuringer to replace those thrones with less ostentatious chairs at the front of Laidlaw Hall. (I had thought that more modest furniture might create a more democratic ambiance.) Afterwards, though, a student asked me to reconsider. He said the thrones had come to us from Queens Park, and he saw them as a symbolic link to our past. The student was an insider. He was right. I was the outsider. I was wrong. The thrones are back.

Example 3. One day last week I was running late, and without giving it much thought, I grabbed a tie as I left the house. Later that day, an Old Boy approached me and made a comment about the fact that I was wearing an Old Boys’ tie. When I thanked him for what I had thought was a compliment, he politely pressed the matter. “You are wearing an Old Boys’ tie, but you see, you are not an Old Boy, so if another Old Boy saw it, he might tell you to take that tie off.” (What a wonderfully Canadian way of saying, “Change your tie.”) Again, he was the insider. He was right. I was the outsider. I was wrong. I changed my tie.

Which brings me to my 4th, final and most important example : Last week a colleague reminded me that today, December 6th, is the 22nd anniversary of the Montreal Massacre, a horrible, horrible event perpetrated by a violent and violently ill man who separated the men from the women at l’École Polytechnique in Montreal, before killing 14 of the women.

When I arrived in Canada 8 years ago, I was the outsider who did not appreciate the significance of Montreal Massacre. While it was a God-awful nightmare, wasn’t it at some level, just another example of the ghastly consequences of untreated mental illness? Why did so many see something more, something darker and more pervasive? Did what happened on that cold December night say something unsettling about our culture? Does what happened in 1989 in Montreal say something about us today in Toronto?

A friend tried to explain the significance of all of this by pointing out that, during the assassination attempt on Ronald Regan in 1981, James Brady, one of the president’s assistants, was shot and nearly killed. While the shooter was later ruled insane, the event put a spotlight, not on mental illness, but on the dangers of handguns. That single incident was the catalyst for” The Brady Bill,” a much needed legislative attempt to limit access to dangerous weapons in America.

In a similar vein, the Montreal Massacre has raised important questions, not about mental illness, but about how women are treated. Again, because I am an outsider, I recently asked a couple of Canadian women to help me understand what all of this means.

One said, “It was so appalling for so many reason. Part of it was that it took place in Montreal, an amazingly tolerant and progressive city. It also took place at a school, a place that should be safe above all else. And it happened at an engineering school, a place where women were flourishing in an academic area that had until recently been the exclusive domain of men.”

Another said, “It made me feel, for the first time in my life, that I was vulnerable, and that I have had to accept, since that day, the biological nature of my vulnerability. The killer overpowered women with his knife when he couldn’t shoot any more. I feel this every day of my life. When I run in the dark early in the morning, when I need to find a way home from a night out and can’t decide whether I feel safer on the subway or in a cab. Before December 6, 1989, I hadn’t accepted this. His targeting of women, his ability to kill them, brought home this fear.”

She continued, “Every day women are victims because of this vulnerability, and that the problem of violence against women is almost impossible to stop as a woman. The conversation about this is so hard to have without making it seem like it is men against women and vice versa, when of course, it is not about that.”

If nothing else, December 6 is an opportunity for those of us in a boys’ school to ask ourselves how we see and treat women. A few years ago, former NFL star Joe Ehrmann said that one of our great cultural flaws is that, during adolescence, boys have a tendency to objectify girls.

Most of you have friends who are girls, and I’m not just talking about the girls you take to dances or meet with at parties. How you treat all of those young women says a lot about who you are. While Toronto is a big city, there is a small social circle that you will be a part of, many for the rest of your lives. There is a chance that your future spouse may be a friend right now, or the friend or date of one of your classmates. How would you want her to be treated? How would you want your sister or cousin or anyone you care about—how would you want them to be treated?

If there is an advantage to being an outsider, it’s that it can give you a sense of distance, and that distances alters perspective. As someone outside of adolescence, I can tell you that there is a common theme to all of our social sins: it’s about our failure to recognize the humanity of “the other.” The other may be the other gender or race or orientation or nationality. It almost doesn’t matter.

Except that on the terrible night December 6, 1989 gender did matter, and with this in mind, can I ask you to stand for a moment of silence to remember the 14 women who died 22 years ago today.