The Dangers of Hustle Culture

by Hailey Hechtman, ​for The 44 North

Contributing Writer

Hailey Hechtman is a social impact leader and mental health advocate. She is passionate about inspiring positive change through community collaboration, constant learning and self-reflection. Watch her interview on 'Life Outside the Box' here. X: @HaileyHechtman IG: @hailey.hechtman

A busy city landscape with blurry shadows of people rushing on the streets

Have you ever had one of those moments where you are feeling frazzled, overwhelmed, a little stunned by the mountain of tasks in front of you and then turned to face those around you to see an ocean of calm faces? What happens next? Do you begin to question yourself, your capacity, your abilities, your resilience? Do you assume that you are the only one who is roughing it through the grind of the day-to-day? This instantaneous response that we have to the perception of how others feel can be incredibly isolating. To sit in a room, whether IRL or on Zoom and have this sentiment that we stand on our own in feeling overpowered by our to-do list can lead us down a road of insecurity and ultimately derail us from asking for the support that we may need to feel confident once more. All this said, I have a secret to break to you, listen carefully… you are not the only one. 

Amongst the many competing draws for our attention, in a world that still heavily glorifies hustle culture and encourages “I’ve been really busy” as a standard response, most of us are being ground down to some extent by the constant demands on our time. Whether it be uncomplimentary priorities like needing to do a lot of deep work and planning while simultaneously reacting to the emerging issues that pop up without warning, our brains are in an ongoing state of hypervigilance. If we then add to this those who are already going through mental health challenges, it can be a lot to respond to. 

What is our ultimate tactic in addressing this? Well, it tends to be one of two for the majority who haven’t reached a point of clear boundaries or unshakeable balance. 1) We either double down on thinking that everyone else is handling work seamlessly and sink deeper into that feeling of inadequacy or 2) we remind ourselves that everyone is up against the very real invisible busyness monster succumbing to stress and therefore we shouldn’t ask for any extras because this is a universal experience. 

Neither of these strategies is particularly helpful in encouraging us to meet our mental health needs especially when you factor in our second option, we are not accounting for the layered environmental stressors faced by marginalized employees. On top of our collective cortisol rollercoaster, we also face another game of perception… comparison. ​

"If we play the very un-fun game of comparison, we can get lost in the fact that we are all playing. That everyone that steps up to the plate has someone that they are looking to ahead of them."

​For many of us, our breaks during the day consist of checking our social media feeds and scrolling through countless examples of how our colleagues and complete strangers are rocking it. The professional world has even gotten in on this with LinkedIn showcasing the award nominations, rising star promotions and new job bonanza of our networks. 

When we spend our workday playing catch up through the never-ending list of accomplishments to be had and deadlines to be met and then sneak away over our lunch break to gaze at those who appear to be effortlessly rising, that too can have an impact on our understanding of the world around us and of ourselves. We can begin to see our successes as inconsequential in comparison to our friend who is one of the city’s “40 under 40”. We can look down on our educational pursuit when a co-worker gets accepted into a prestigious master’s program. This side-by-side image of us vs. them can lead us to think that we are not moving quickly enough, that we are not excelling or growing at the speed that we are meant to. Yet, I will once again divulge a little tidbit…. That person that you are looking to and saying “wow, look at them, look at me… I’m so far behind”, they are doing the exact same thing to someone else. 

If we play the very unfun game of comparison, we can get lost in the fact that we are all playing. That everyone that steps up to the plate has someone that they are looking to ahead of them. Whether this is your first day on the job or you have 20 years under your belt, if you sign up to be a part of the great chain of comparison, you will always have someone to up to.

So now that we have unpacked that we all have a flood of obligations weighing us down and we all fall into the trap of looking to others to determine where we should be or what we should have done already, what can we do about it? What can we implement to preserve our mental health, battle away from the spiral of self-judgment, to eliminate the persistent dissection of our goals vs. their achievements? 

First, with the busyness barrage, talk to your co-workers or fellow students if you are still in school. Get a sense of how they are handling the workload, if the deadlines keep them up too and if it all feels like a lot. This may give you clearer insights into what is happening outside of your desk and allow you to collaboratively problem solve any areas that are mutually challenging. With this too, take some time to reflect on your own stress management strategies. Can you take breaks throughout your day, even 5 minutes every hour or two to take a few deep breaths? Can you time-block your day to focus on specific topics rather than everything at once? Can you go for a walk on your lunch break to get some time away, a little movement and fresh air? 

This all said, if the stressors that you are dealing with are impacting or having a snowball effect on your mental health, please reach out for support. Talk to a supervisor, school counsellor, professor or HR rep. This can feel vulnerable and can sometimes feel like you are asking for extra, but it is actually benefiting everyone. In you saying something about your mental health at work, you are encouraging a culture that takes time to check in with the team, by becoming more inclusive, we create better conditions for all. 

Not sure where to start with this conversation? Perhaps consider using the four components of nonviolent communication: (https://www.cnvc.org/online-learning/nvc-instruction-guide/nvc-instruction-guide) --- first speak to what you have been observing “I have been noticing that the deadlines have started to become more last minute over the past few months” then a feeling “this is making me feel overwhelmed and frazzled” than a need “this is making it hard for me to meet my need of feeling on top of things” and lastly, a request “If I could get more advanced notice for project deadlines like this so that I have time to get organized, that would be greatly appreciated.” 

Back to our comparison game, how do we walk away from this? For starters, let’s take time to recognize that we never know someone else’s full story. Social media is a highlight reel and therefore we are never fully observing the behind-the-scenes that may have gone into someone getting that new role or that recognition. We also need to take a moment to acknowledge that we may be at a very different point from someone else. Perhaps we have been in our new job for 6 months and they have been grinding along for this opportunity for the past three years. Taking the time to understand that our step one cannot look like someone else’s step ten can be a relief as we are just at different points along the continuum. Further to this, there are a lot of different points of power and privilege that may play into where someone ends up--- maybe there is a family connection, maybe there have been societal advantages that someone has received that has propelled them more quickly. Although we are often encouraged to see the world as a meritocracy, there are many instances of inequity that mean opportunities go to some and not others.

All that said, the best guidepost for assessing yourself is you. Take a moment to reflect on all that you have accomplished in life. The human that you used to be is not the same person that you are now. You may have graduated school, you may have started a new job, you may have overcome barriers, you may have adapted to new contexts, or navigated through change. 

Looking back on your own milestones is the best way to fight back comparison. By remembering that the only person worth taking a deep dive search into is yourself, can be liberating. Sometimes we set goals and once we achieve them, we take out a pen, check off the box and set a new one. Instead of rushing towards the next, let it sink in what you have done, what you have been through;  you are still here on this planet, you have been through global upheaval, you have fought through your darkest moments, you have brought people joy, you have learned everything that you have learned up until this moment. The strengths within you are boundless and it is in the time taken to be with ourselves in stillness that we can let go of the expectations created by our view of others and instead appreciate the magnitude of who we are in this world. 

On Healthy Masculinity

by Asante Haughton & Helena Nikitopoulos, ​for The 44 North

A father with dark curly hair & a beard kissing his baby son on the cheek

"The journey toward being a good guy isn’t one of weakness, it is one of strength. To reflect on where I have failed and how I try to grow isn’t to garner sympathy or redemption points, it’s to help create more happiness for myself with the understanding that being a kind, compassionate, and emotionally healthy person will invite healthy relations from others."​

Foreword

by Helena 

While I am a woman myself, I empathize with the pressure society has instilled on our male population. I have never seen my father cry, nor have I seen a man cry without shame. What type of society is that? When women cry, we applaud them for their strength. Why can’t we do the same for our male counterparts — the men in our lives who are told to “stand up straight and smile,” even if they are silently carrying depression or the weight of everyday struggles? 

Why do we advocate for the freedom of expression except when it comes to men?

In rebuttal to this, I leave you with my thoughts on healthy masculinity in the hopes that we can open up more conversations about its impact and importance. 

Healthy masculinity is a term and practice that challenges harmful stereotypes, suggesting that men must be “tough” or conform to a narrow idea of what a man “should” be. Healthy masculinity encourages men to embrace all aspects of their true self, including their emotions of vulnerability, empathy, and authenticity. 

While society might expect a man to shut down or hide his feelings from those around him, healthy masculinity takes an opposite stance; it makes space for vulnerability, for sharing one’s fears, grief, or hopes without shame. Supporting others who demonstrate healthy masculinity, encouraging their growth, and celebrating their successes are ways that men can show up for one another in healthy, positive ways. This can look like checking in on a friend who is struggling, listening without judgement, or complimenting a friend for putting their own well being first — all of which build a supportive, non-competitive environment.

Another key element of healthy masculinity is rejecting the shame society places on men who do not conform to the ‘alpha male’ stereotype, refusing to let that narrative dictate their lives. Only by confronting these stereotypes directly and recognizing their harmfulness can one truly embody what healthy masculinity means. Emotional literacy — learning to identify, express, and regulate your feelings without fear of judgment — allows men to build stronger relationships and a deeper sense of self-awareness. Practice answering questions about yourself and your identity to hone in on who you are despite societal pressure: When do I feel most authentic in my actions and emotions? Which values truly guide my decisions? How do I express my emotions in my friendships and relationships? What strengths do I have beyond traditional ideas of masculinity?

Of course, these ideas are easier to talk about than to put into practice. Many men grow up without seeing these qualities modeled in their homes, communities, or media which creates a gap between those who are exposed to healthy masculinity and those who are unsure of what it actually looks like. As a result, I encourage our male readers to discuss this article with your friends, your peers, and your mentors. I firmly believe that the more we have these conversations, the closer we get to defining — and embodying — “healthy masculinity.” Of course, be patient as you navigate these unsteady terrains. As Asante’s story reveals, you are meant to face trials and tribulations as you discover what healthy masculinity truly means, so do not let that discourage you. 

As for us women, we should continue encouraging and supporting our male counterparts when they share something personal or vulnerable in order to create a space where men feel safe to open up without fear of judgement, ridicule, or dismissal. If feelings of discomfort or confusion come up the next time you see a man cry or express his vulnerability, ask yourself why. What beliefs or social “norms” might be shaping your reaction and do those beliefs truly align with the kind of empathy and equality you want to practice? After all, learning to be a more accepting and positive society does not just fall on the men but on us women as well—because only by coming together can we truly create a culture where everyone thrives. 

A Brain Dump

from Asante 

I look behind me and cringe. There is a trail of hearts, broken and frayed, in my wake. The truth is jarring. I’m the one responsible. I never wanted to be a bad guy. But I was. And I often worry that I still am, even though I’m trying my best.

When I’ve caused harm I’ve often rested on the excuse that I was “trying”. I didn’t know any better. That is true. Well, partially. Sometimes I did know better, but prioritized my own feelings and desires anyway. I wonder if I made those decisions because of arrogance. Or immaturity. Or a lack of compassion. I placed myself above others, particularly many of the romantic partners — women — of my past. Of course, I’m not proud of this admission. But I must admit this nonetheless. I was the nice guy — manipulative in my generosity. I was the bad guy — dismissive, withdrawn, unreliable, willfully mysterious. I feigned goodness while living out many of the tropes of toxic masculinity. Don’t be sympathetic. I’m just being honest. 

With respect to doing my best — I often told my romantic partners, who were upset with my behaviour, that I didn’t know how to be a partner. I didn’t witness any healthy romantic relationships in my household growing up. All of my friends came from single parent households. And my mother very intentionally raised me and my brothers away from the other men from my culture — Jamaica — hoping we wouldn’t become as bad as the men who had mistreated her and other women she’d known back home. Furthermore, the older men I was exposed to, regardless of ethnicity or nationality, weren’t exactly the kind of men I wanted to be like. They lied. They cheated. They conceptualized women as trophies, toys, and objects to conquer. I deigned to never be one of those guys. And yet…

The media is a powerful force. Though I had very little contact with older men from whom to learn — good or bad, probably bad — as a very lonely child, a latchkey kid if you will, I was a copious consumer of media. And the guys in the media, even the good guys — the heroes in the story — upon closer examination are generally awful. So whether in real life, or in fiction, any examples of manhood I was exposed to lacked the features that a good man should hopefully exhibit. But these heroes, the good guys, became who I thought I should be.

So, after intentionally shedding the most obvious of my bad boyfriend behaviours in my mid-20s, and after deciding to actually try my best as a partner and parent, I was still missing the mark. I wasn’t just off target, my darts weren’t even hitting the board. Each time I hurt someone I cared about, I committed to being better. I went on learning journeys consuming everything I could find on the internet about being a good guy — not the Andrew Tate, red pill, MGOTW type stuff but the actual supposed-to-be-helpful-stuff — and implemented it all as best I could. It worked marginally. Even when following all the advice I could find on the internet, I still sucked at being a good guy. The internet, as we know, provides surface level advice that lacks both depth and nuance (y’know, the stuff that truly defines personal relationships). More than that, the good guys authoring the content I consumed were likely “good” by their own estimation but not in reality. The quality of their advice wasn’t being measured by those in the best position to judge goodness, namely women. 

I had no teachers in real life who I trusted, none in media or works of fiction, and the advice section of the internet was inadequate. So where was I — am I — to learn how to be a good guy? I can’t keep putting the labour of teaching me on my partners, past and current. That’s not fair to them. 

The missives explaining toxic masculinity tell you how not to be — but often don’t explain how to be. So I’m often left feeling lost, wondering where to turn for genuinely good wisdom and guidance on how to be the guy I want to be; the guy the people I love and people of all identities deserve. My compass is spinning. Where is my healthy masculinity north star?

On my quest to become a good guy I had to go farther. I explored many roads. The most important of which were lined with sign posts that pointed toward men like Jason Wilson, a martial arts teacher whose content centers around how he helps the boys and adolescent men in his dojo identify, process, and become accountable to their emotions and how they express them. The primary message? Experiencing negative emotions like hurt, shame, sadness, frustration and anger as a man is normal. They don’t make you weak. And it is better to feel them than to direct them toward others through violence and abuse in an effort to reclaim the false sense of masculinity men are conditioned to believe comes from dominance and displays of power that hurt others. Jason Wilson’s content has been immensely helpful in recognizing and unpacking the false ideas of masculinity that I was wearing like a cloak.

Another sign post on my journey pointed me toward feminist scion, bell hooks. Particularly her work, “All About Love.” I was pointed toward this book by a friend who thought I would benefit from the wisdom within. It didn’t take long for me to get the message — love is comprised of actions that one commits to — it’s not a feeling. Love is to treat someone with kindness, respect, and gentleness. It is to consider someone’s past, present, and future condition and how one’s actions can either cause harm or bring solace across these dimensions. To be direct, to love someone is to treat them well and protect them from hurt derived from your actions. Love is action.

The final signpost on my journey that I’ll mention is feminism itself. Disclaimer: I don’t purport to be a feminist. That is not a title any man should bestow upon himself. We, however, can learn from the experiences of women to listen and very deeply critically reflect on how constructions of manhood and patriarchy have been and continue to be harmful to women in all areas of life. The damage men have done and continue to do to women is pervasive. But here’s the kicker, the things we do that are harmful to women are also harmful to us as men as well. 

Some expressions of masculinity men have come to accept as normal aspects of being a man — such as keeping one’s complex emotions to oneself, engaging in performative stoicism,  and utilizing violence to assert power — contribute to the loneliness more and more men are experiencing. It is difficult to maintain friendships and romantic relationships if one doesn’t approach others with thoughtful gestures, open communication, integrity, accountability, reliability, vulnerability, and actions that bring others closer as opposed to actions that create distance — the building blocks of intimacy.

With respect to the above, many men read these things as meaning they have to abandon any proclivities toward competition, healthy displays of physical strength, and the drive to protect their loved ones. This is not true. What we need to do is to integrate healthier modes of expression into our toolbox. In doing so, we gain the opportunity to fully express our humanity. And by creating less discord for others and within oneself, we will invite more love and happiness into our lives. 

The journey toward being a good guy isn’t one of weakness, it is one of strength. To reflect on where I have failed and how I try to grow isn’t to garner sympathy or redemption points, it’s to help create more happiness for myself with the understanding that being a kind, compassionate, and emotionally healthy person will invite healthy relations from others. Most of all, my journey toward being a good guys is to be a good example for my two sons. My greatest priority as a parent is to raise good men. In order to do that I have to become a good man myself. I don’t know if I am yet — that’s not for me to decide. But I will keep trying every day. Because to be a good man and to raise good men, is to help create a better world for us all.

On Charlie Kirk: You Can't Pick and Choose Your Martyr

By Abbigale Kernya for The 44 North

Managing Editor

Charlie Kirk speaking into a microphone

"What began as a goal to further the reach of conservative ideology on college campuses evolved into a right-wing pipeline that grounded itself in exploiting marginalized communities and inciting violence against anyone who dared to call out the deplorable white supremacist behaviour."

On September 10th, 2025, American Conservative podcaster Charlie Kirk was fatally shot at Utah Valley University on the first stop of his “Prove Me Wrong” campus tour. Kirk, who made his career founding Turning Point USA and debating college students on campus about controversial topics like abortion, same-sex marriage, transgender existence, and the right to bear arms, has left behind a legacy that continues to polarize and divide. 

Kirk’s final words that afternoon perhaps speak most of all to his work, where he riled up the MAGA crowd in attendance—fearmongering about transgender gang violence—moments before he was fatally shot by a rifle 200 yards away. The suspect charged is 22-year-old Tyler Robinson, whose motives remain unknown at the time of writing, despite republican claims his actions were a blatant attack from the left. 

It is without question that no matter Kirk’s controversial and bigoted stance, nobody ‘deserves’ to die by gun violence. This remains true, even after Kirk plainly stated in 2023 that he supported civilian casualties to protect and uphold the Second Amendment right to bear arms. The outcry following his assassination is as polarizing as it is frightening. Far right MAGA leaders are calling on violence towards the left (or, their “political opponents”) and conspiracy theories are headlining mainstream media, stating that this shooting was somehow a result of transgender violence—the same “violence” Kirk conspiratized seconds before the fatal shot. 

And yet, on the same day Kirk was shot and killed on campus, an elementary school in Illinois was attacked by a lone gunman, marking the 146th American school shooting in 2025, as Kirk became the same “civilian casualty” he supported.

Kirk’s platform was built on oppression and harm to anyone who wasn’t a straight, white, Christian, middle-class American cis-male. It can be hard to feel empathy for someone who would not give you the same courtesy. Empathy, which, in Kirk’s own words, was seen as a made-up emotion.

Right-wing extremism has been rising steadily in America, bleeding the harmful rhetoric mainstreamed by people like Kirk into nearly every crevice of the West. When the news broke that Kirk had succumbed to his fatal shot, the response heard everywhere from the internet to sports venues was shocking, to say the least. 

This is not to say that Kirk deserved what he got—nobody, no matter which side of the political line they stand on, deserves to be murdered in broad daylight. Nobody deserves to witness bloodshed, and in breaking down the hypocrisies of republican outcry, it is not a pro-firearm message. Rather, it’s one that aims to draw light toward the mass mourning of a white supremacist podcaster who made a career demonizing marginalized communities under the guise of “free speech” and the right to have your own opinion.

The irony of this whole situation is hidden under the calls for violence and continued “us vs. them” rhetoric, steeped in racist comparisons between Kirk and the murder of George Floyd, to further blame the left for his assassination. However, the argument that one must feel sorry for Kirk is somewhat missing the mark in this conversation. Especially given that Kirk himself advocated for public executions, saying they should be televised to children and sponsored by major corporations like Coca-Cola. It comes as somewhat ironic, then, that the conversation around his death is spiralling into that of a memorialized martyr who died for his own opinion, not one that aims to look at the broader picture of the violence he made a career out of. 

Kirk’s advocacy for the right to one’s own “opinion” is a trapdoor that invites unsuspecting viewers through the guise of free speech into the chasm of extremist ideology. As a reminder, an opinion is whether or not you like summer over winter, or what TV show deserved an Emmy Award, or how you like your eggs cooked. An opinion is not whether or not you believe the Jim Crow laws were a good thing for the Black community, or that women aren’t capable of holding equal careers to men, or that transgender people are dangerous, bloodthirsty criminals. Charlie Kirk did not die for his opinion. He held no ‘opinions’ that were not factually incorrect or spewed in the pursuit of a divided country, fueled by hatred and fear. 

His “Prove me Wrong” tour would be the final act in his legacy of rage-baiting college students into falling for the ultra-right-wing pipeline, spinning every disadvantage young people face into a calling card for bigotry and white-supremacy. It is extremely telling how school shootings and the rise of hate speech in North America have become so normalized that they’ve become desensitized to mainstream media. On the afternoon of Charlie Kirk’s shooting, when a man armed with a semi-automatic weapon opened fire in an elementary school in Illinois, the narrative instead became focused on protecting the legacy of someone who didn’t believe in equal rights based on “freedom of expression” rather than the epidemic of gun violence that is plaguing America.

The truth is, if people were truly outraged that this horrific act of gun violence cost Kirk his life, a conversation of change would spark. Instead, conversations around further demonizing left-leaning voters and the trans community have infiltrated online forums. Additionally, we’ve seen countless examples where anyone speaking out against the hypocrisy of Kirk’s shooting is facing harassment and, in increasingly frequent cases, being fired from their employment after speaking against Charlie Kirk's “opinions.”

How have we strayed so far from the plot that merely bringing attention to the hypocrisy and somewhat ironic nature of September 12th is an act of war against the right-wing? To say that you don’t support what happened to Charlie Kirk, but Charlie Kirk (by his own words) supported what happened to him, has become controversial—as if his platform was built around not only protecting the Second Amendment, but also advocating for looser gun restrictions. 

How can one mourn Charlie Kirk and ignore the victims of his rhetoric?

What began as a goal to further the reach of conservative ideology on college campuses evolved into a right-wing pipeline that grounded itself in exploiting marginalized communities and inciting violence against anyone who dared to call out the deplorable white supremacist behaviour. 

To truly mourn Charlie Kirk must mean you mourn all victims of gun violence. 

To mourn him as a father, as a husband, is to also mourn the innocent families ripped apart by ICE raids.

To mourn him as a political activist for free speech is to also mourn the journalists murdered in Gaza who died documenting a genocide. 

To mourn Charlie Kirk is to mourn victims of violence perpetuated with hands cradling guns and microphones. 

To mourn him is to mourn trans people and childbearing folks who have died due to lack of access to gender affirming care and abortion resources.

You cannot pick and choose your martyr.