Salman Khalid

    As I walk the streets of this city, I often find myself looking away. Sleeping bags occupy empty corners. Inflated rent prices knock on — and threaten to knock down — the doors of my flimsy 500-square-foot apartment. I stand amongst a sea of labels and prices for far too long, questioning the supposed necessity of so-called essentials. Why look at problems you can’t solve? I don't know what the price of my groceries are, but I do know I can't do anything about it. I feel bad for the poor soul digging through the trash; I feel worse for not feeding him, but the $16K in debt weighs heavy in my pockets, and my debit card weighs far too light. Somehow, that’s just enough to keep him in the corner of my eye.

     So instead, I turn away. I keep my head down and try not to think about all the things I can’t do anything about. All the while, looming steel occupies the misty distance. Glimmering glass obscures office towers. The wealth disparity of this city needs no citation but the ravaged tents and torn blankets serve the purpose anyway — and our eyes glaze over them all the same. The strange thing about this is how well hidden it is. When I look straight at it all, I’m met with marble towers, and logos so common I forget they were even there. Meanwhile, all the crests and coats of arms that adorn our corporate skies serve as nothing more than cheap sleight of hand, begging you to look at one hand, so you look away from the other. The bright emerald TD logo on the west tower hides a small white “A CF property.” The BMO logo similarly should read Brookfield. In this world of hypervisibility, the greatest show of power is remaining invisible. How much land, power and wealth are obscured, even as we walk past them on our commute to work? Large glass fronts ask us to look through instead of at; the transparency of banking institutions gives way to invisibility.

     In a world that asserts its power by hiding it entirely, the act of bearing witness serves as an important act of negation. Similarly, the right to look becomes a tool towards the erosion and reclamation of power. Asserting the right to look — if only at shrouded curtains — becomes a crucial action which we must hold ourselves steadfast to.