Pictures and sounds: An up-close look at the annual march for climate justice, Fridays for Future
What does a climate March sound like?
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Scenes from a Climate Strike
Category: Student Life
National Truth and Reconciliation Day is right around the corner — let’s talk
For the second time since its establishment in 2021, Canadians will celebrate National Truth and Reconciliation Day on Sept. 30. This statutory holiday honours the survivors of residential schools as well as those who never returned from them. What better way to commemorate and learn from the past than to take some time to educate ourselves on Indigenous issues?
Like many students in Quebec, Kenny Gourdet, a black political science undergrad at Concordia, says she was taught the same “European explorers came to populate society” story over and over again. A prime example of colonialism is how history classes often glorify the arrival of Europeans to the Americas, where they would supposedly save Indigenous peoples by “civilizing” them.
When Gourdet started pursuing her minor in First Peoples Studies, she realized how colonialism had tainted her education. “I think through that minor, I’m starting to understand what decolonization means to me, and what I can do to actively be a part of decolonization,” she explains.
Manon Tremblay, Senior Director of Indigenous Directions at Concordia University, says, “I’ve always thought that if you get anything out of university, regardless of what you study, it is openness of mind.”
Tremblay, who is also Plains Cree and a member of the Muskeg Lake Cree Nation, explains the Office of Indigenous Directions came up with the Indigenous Directions Action Plan in 2019. This “blueprint” as she calls it outlines 40 recommendations to tackle reconciliation, indigenization and decolonization at Concordia. These recommendations include creating institutional protocols to better engage with Indigenous knowledge, encouraging the use of Indigenous languages at Concordia, increasing opportunities for Indigenous graduates and students, decolonizing the institution and curriculum, and more.
“Decolonization is not dismantling systems that work,” says Tremblay. “It’s basically looking at systems and at those parts that don’t work for Indigenous people and may constitute barriers to success.”
As Gourdet puts it, decolonization is the undoing of colonialism. For her, it starts by unlearning the aspects of her life that have been affected by it, whether it be her education or her perception of herself.
All hands on deck
“Decolonization belongs to everyone,” says Ezgi Ozyonum, a PhD candidate in education at Concordia. She is also a researcher and events coordinator at the Decolonial Perspectives and Practices Hub (DPPH).
Her colleague Sandra Mouafo, a sociology undergrad, describes the DPPH as an incubator for initiatives, activism and empowerment. Their team aims to amplify the voices of students whose perspectives are left out of conversations that pertain to their wellbeing and future. The DPPH works to bridge the gap between academia and different ethnic communities within the student body.
“Nobody is safe from oppression,” says Mouafo. “If tomorrow it’s your neighbour, the next day it’s you. You shouldn’t wait until the fire gets to your house before you start worrying about it.”
She adds that decolonization can be discussed from many standpoints, ranging from politics to academia to interpersonal relationships. According to her, these reflections should begin by asking ourselves: “How do we look at society from a different lens than colonialism?”
Both Ozyonum and Mouafo strongly believe decolonization is plural, meaning it requires a plethora of diverse perspectives. They say understanding multiple viewpoints will help contribute to decentering dominant models and patterns of oppression.
Ozyonum likes to use the word “decolonizing” as a verb. For her, it’s an ongoing effort to challenge colonial engagement and systemic oppression in the world.
According to Mouafo, everyone is responsible for deconstructing colonial influences and holding themselves accountable, whether they are racialized or non-racialized bodies.
“We are all here on one earth and we are responsible for the actions or the things that happened in the past,” says Ozyonum. “We are responsible to learn from history.”
Looking back at previous education
Gourdet realizes how strong a hold colonialism had on the predominantly white private high school she attended. “I never felt like the school I went to created a safe space for me and my diversity,” she admits.
At first, Gourdet didn’t think too much of her school’s pride in its founder, Wilfrid Laurier, but then she finally learned the truth behind Laurier’s involvement with Indigenous residential schools and anti-immigration policies through her political science classes. “His name was and is still plastered all across the school,” emphasizes Gourdet.
During her time there, Gourdet says the only effort to welcome diversity was the organization of a week-long event that superficially highlighted multiculturalism, “to show white kids diversity exists.” Other than that, Gourdet thinks the school’s promotion of diversity was shallow. “I felt like the school’s view on diversity was transmitted to the whole student body,” she said.
Although oppression affects all marginalized communities, the main targets of colonialism in Canada are Indigenous peoples, as we stand on their lands. Concordia’s efforts to indigenize aim to bring Indigenous voices to the University’s administration and academia.
So how is Concordia doing?
“Education is key,” shares Tremblay. “You can go forth in your life after university and see systems a bit differently and have a better openness of spirit and of mind.” However, as Gourdet’s experience highlights, students can absorb colonialist mindsets when they are in colonialist environments.
Concordia’s first steps into decolonization date back to 1992, when the Otsenhákta Student Centre was established, which serves as a resource for First Nations, Inuit and Métis students. Concordia’s decolonization efforts are now primarily orchestrated by the Office of Indigenous Directions.
“I think we’ve made some really good progress,” says Tremblay. “It helps that we have the unwavering commitment of higher administration. They believe in this, and they want to see it happen.”
On Friday, Sept. 16, Concordia hosted a powwow, which Tremblay deems to have been quite a success. She says they aim to organize more Indigenous-themed activities to increase visibility, but also to educate. “Not everything about Indigenous people is oppression,” she states. “We have things to celebrate too.”
The University has also incorporated territorial acknowledgement to its decolonial practices, stating that “the Kanien’kehá:ka Nation is recognized as the custodians of the lands and waters on which we gather today. Tiohtià:ke/Montréal is historically known as a gathering place for many First Nations. Today, it is home to a diverse population of Indigenous and other peoples.”
“I think Concordia is good at initiating and providing spaces,” says Ozyonum. She believes the only missing piece is communication. “In this part, the Hub has a role to play,” she adds, since the DPPH works to reform systemic injustices in higher education.
Among other events, Ozyonum often organizes syllabus deconstruction workshops, where students, teachers and administration members meet to carefully deconstruct colonial patterns in their syllabi. “They talk about the power dynamics and how to reimagine the classroom with this syllabus, because a syllabus for us is a tool,” explains Ozyonum.
Both Ozyonum and Mouafo agree that the process to decolonize classrooms will take time, effort, and a lot of important conversations. Looking at the different aspects of our lives with a critical eye is the foundation for decolonizing ourselves and our environments.
“The thing with decolonization is that it’s not simple,” shrugs Mouafo. “It is a tireless commitment.”
The Office for Indigenous Directions aims to decolonize curriculums by bringing in more Indigenous experts and perspectives. This allows them to explore ways of teaching that every student finds a benefit to, according to Tremblay.
As Tremblay explains, not all cultures that fit under the “Indigenous” umbrella term agree with what needs to be done. “There’s a constant need for engagement to make sure that we’re always moving in the right direction,” she says.
Decolonizing and indigenizing need to be done continuously. “It’s work that’s long,” says Tremblay. “We’re not always going to see the results right away.” That’s why the Office of Indigenous Directions is committed to reviewing their action plan regularly. Their latest update was in June 2021.
Although education is a good place to foster conversations on decolonization, Ozyonum affirms that “Decolonization should be happening on all levels, and in different places, so it shouldn’t only be happening in school.”
A path of stepping stones
Mouafo adds that decolonization shouldn’t stem from a virtuous and heroic place, but from a humble willingness to learn and to become better people. It is an individual effort as much as it is a collective effort.
Although decolonization seems like a huge challenge, the DPPH members encourage everyone to simply try. “Even mistakes can be our learning opportunities,” smiles Ozyonum. A variety of resources, webinars and workshops are offered by Concordia’s Indigenous Directions Learning Series Pîkiskwêtân (Cree for “let’s talk”).
Self-education outside academia can happen through books, movies, series, podcasts and more. Because decolonization is an increasingly hot topic, resources are becoming more and more accessible. The CBC podcast Telling our Twisted Histories, which addresses the erasure of Indigenous perspectives in Canadian history, is one of many examples.
“There’s no right way of being decolonial,” says Mouafo. “It’s a colonial mindset to think there is one right way,” she laughs.
As Ozyonum says, we are responsible for building our future — a future where we look at the world in an intersectional way and live in respectful dialogue.
“Have these conversations,” implores Mouafo. “And if you’re uncomfortable, that means you’re in the right place, because this conversation is not meant to be comfortable. It’s not meant to be easy, but it’s needed.”
Photos by Kaitlynn Rodney
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Powwow: A home away from home
Concordia University hosted its first ever powwow on Friday, September 16 at Loyola Campus. This event was held to commemorate the Otsenhákta Student Centre’s 30th anniversary.
Powwows are cultural exchanges that are used as part of healing ceremonies, and to celebrate Indigenous dance, music, food and art.
Concordia was bursting with energy, Friday, September 16th, all thanks to one person.
Morning Star Fayard, a third-year student at Concordia University, put together the powwow.
“It was late April, early May that we started to plan this event. My part in organizing this event was contacting people who can participate at this event,” Fayard recalled. “I had to reach out to all the dancers, performers, and all the vendors. I had to reach out to the departments at Concordia to help us with advertising, as well as setting up all tents and chairs.”
Fayard explained that she was also very content with the reception of the event.
“Usually at a powwow people can get shy, especially the students. When the event was going on, the MC was really welcoming and everyone just kind of joined in, especially at the inter-tribal dancing,” Fayard said.
During the opening ceremony of the powwow, two drum groups were playing Indigenous music.
Eric Cotté, a member of the Red Tail Spirit group, was among the drummer players present.
“It’s a big honor to be a part of Concordia’s first ever powwow,” Cotté said, visibly emotional. “It’s a big thing we’re doing here and we’re going to do it right in the best way we can.”
In Canada, the 1876 Indian Act obstructed the celebration of powwows by restricting Indigenous peoples’ right to conduct cultural and spiritual ceremonies and wear traditional outfits.
Keeping the history of powwows in mind, all the participants at the event were extremely proud to be there. Among the performers was Nina Segalowitz, a Concordia University alumnus and throat singer.
“I’m very proud to be representing throat singing with my daughter Sierra. I love the fact that there is a gathering and that we are now a part of a community. I think this is how we make bridges between the communities,” Segalowitz said.
While the performances of various dancers and singers were ongoing, there were also many Indigenous vendors selling handmade goods.
The Concordian spoke with Cory Hunlin, one of the vendors present at the powwow and owner of the shop This Claw. “I make traditional / contemporary earrings and I am constantly changing my earrings. Three years ago, I implemented rabbit fur and I made signature earrings out of that,” they explained.
Fayard, being the creative mind behind the whole event, explained that if she was asked to organize the powwow again she’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I thought it was just an amazing experience for all the people that I’ve met and the people that have participated. The performers and vendors just have so much knowledge to share,” Fayard said.
The whole function of the powwow would not have flowed as smoothly without the help of its volunteers present on site. Alyssa Isaac, an Indigenous fourth-year student at Concordia, explained what being a part of this event meant for her.
“It’s great that we are finally starting this, it’s like a little part of home is here on campus,” Isaac said.
A real sense of community was felt at the powwow and that was the goal at the end of the day.
“Powwow for me is celebrating who we are as Indigenous people and opening our community up. Welcoming anybody, you don’t have to be Indigenous to dance in some of our dances,” Segalowitz said.
Students from different associations are working together to strike in October
Various members of the associations (MAs) held their respective Annual General Meetings (AGM) throughout last week, and voted on whether or not to participate in a week-long student strike for a fall reading week.
Several student associations involved with the Arts and Science Federation of Associations (ASFA) will come together on Oct. 3 through 7 to picket classes if the mandate is passed.
Unlike other Quebec universities such as McGill, Université Laval, and Université de Montréal, Concordia does not have a reading week during the fall semester. In 2021, the University announced its plan to implement 12-week terms and a fall reading week. However, the new academic calendar will only begin in the summer term of 2023.
During the MA retreat last May, ASFA executives took it upon themselves to plan a student strike and shared their plans with other associations.
Following numerous conversations among the different associations and the ASFA team at the retreat, the Urban Planning Association (UPA) was the first student group to hold an AGM on Aug. 15 and get the mandate to strike.
According to Torben Laux, president of UPA, ASFA is working closely with different associations to coordinate the strike.
“At the moment, they’re going to be setting up a little package on how to strike, how to picket. Students will not come to classes. No assignments are allowed to be submitted, and no quizzes are allowed to be handed out,” explained Laux.
“It’s a lot of work, but I think it’s really exciting, especially after two years of not doing much. I think it will give younger students a really great opportunity to live through a strike. So, I think it will make people feel really empowered,” he added.
Ashley Torres, mobilization coordinator for ASFA, also expressed her frustration with the University.
“There’s no point for us to really wait that extra year… due to the pandemic, the past few years have been extremely difficult and challenging for students, especially [regarding] our mental health, and we deserve a long week break for classes,” said Torres.
Concordia University spokesperson Vannina Maestracci explained in a statement sent to The Concordian, the reason for the delay in implementing the break.
“Schedules for the full university are usually made a few years in advance, and transitioning from a 13-week to 12-week term is a significant adjustment for programs that have designed their curriculum around a 13-week course, especially programs that are subject to accreditation rules.”
“Given this, we are now doing the academic planning, training, logistics, and providing support and resources to faculty to ensure a successful transition to 12-week terms as of summer 2023,” read the statement.
Regardless, student associations have decided to gather and raise their concerns.
Another group that recently passed a motion to strike on Sept. 9 is the Geography Undergrad Student Society (GUSS), who are working with UPA to spread the word about the upcoming strike by sending out emails and preparing flyers.
Liv Aspden, president of GUSS, explained that the student strike will take place during the first week of October to mobilize and emphasize better student care.
“I’m not going to have a week off. We’re going to be striking, and we’re going to be picketing classes… we’re not going to get a break because we’re going to be obviously standing up for what we know is right and what should be happening, and just holding the University accountable for things that haven’t taken place,” said Aspden.
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Your summer 2022 budget travel guide
Here are a few tips, tricks, and resources to make your summer a memorable and adventurous one!
Not sure what you’re going to do with your summer? We’ve compiled some cheap options and resources that you can use this summer that are student discount friendly.
Travelling may be difficult with COVID-19 restrictions, so all of the destinations listed are open to vaccinated travellers leaving from Canada as of April 14.
But first, here are the tools you will need to find the best prices for accommodation, flights, and transportation.
Flights
To find the cheapest flight on any airline to any destination, sites like FlightHub and KAYAK are the places to go. Some trips may also have special call-in prices that could be lower than what other sites may estimate. Just remember that these are third-party agencies, so getting reimbursed for a cancelled trip may prove more difficult.
Accommodation
Finding a place to stay depends on the budget of the traveller. For those feeling adventurous or on an extreme budget, the website Couchsurfing allows travellers to stay on a local’s couch completely free.
If that idea is a little intimidating, hostels are also a great option to meet other travellers. Hostelworld is the one-stop site with millions of reviews, and finding a hostel in any city with it is a breeze.
If you prefer privacy, Airbnb or Trivago are also great options for private accommodation like hotels or apartments, at a premium. Although, depending on the size of your group, Airbnb may end up costing much less than a hostel stay.
Transportation
Depending on where you decide to go, public transit and walking is always the cheapest option, but if you have to hop on a train or want to rent a car, here are some great resources: HappyRail (Europe), Eurail (Europe), and KAYAK (global).
It’s also important to remember that Uber is not global, and if you’re somewhere where taking a cab is a consideration, it’s important to research average prices beforehand — don’t let yourself be the tourist that pays triple what they should. Also, remember city taxis are not always safe at each destination. A quick Reddit search should help you learn from other tourists and even some locals.
With gas prices being at an all-time high, the classic summer road trip may not be the cheapest option. Instead, check out train prices for super cheap round-trip prices this summer:
(prices vary by date of departure)
Montreal to Ottawa: $74+
Montreal to Quebec City: $76+
Montreal to Toronto: $98+
For those wanting to catch some rays this summer, here are plenty of cheap flights to beaches to choose from:
All prices listed were found using Flighthub for the months of May, June and July.
Miami, USA: $350+
With plenty of beaches to choose from, Miami is a great city to explore this summer with its vibrant nightlife. You can grab a room in a hostel for as low as $25+/night.
Cancún, Mexico: $500+
Remember to pack your sunscreen when you go, because the summer heat in Cancun stays around 30 degrees. Even though the heat will get to you, you won’t have to sweat the cost with hostels being as low as $9+ a night.
Montego Bay, Jamaica: $500+
The white sand beaches and crisp blue waters of Montego Bay are a great place to spend your summer lounging around or exploring. Hostels start at $25+/night.
Guatemala City, Guatemala: $500+
Guatemala City has a mix of great food, jungle temples, secret coves, and colourful neighbourhoods for you to explore this summer for cheap with an average cost of $39+/day including hostels priced at $10+/night.
San Jose and Liberia, Costa Rica: $600+
Costa Rica offers plenty to do, whether you want to sit and lounge the whole trip or hike up an active volcano. Both San Jose and Liberia have hostels priced at $13+/night.
Bogotá, Colombia: $650+
If you want to have a mix of city and jungle, Bogotá is the place for you. With plenty of historic sites and culture to experience, there will never be a dull moment on your trip. Hostels are cheap starting at $5+/night.
Belize City, Belize: $750+
If you’re looking to catch some waves and surf this summer, Belize may be the destination for you. The city has an array of activities to choose from, from exploring caves to whitewater rafting — it’s perfect for the active traveller. With hostels starting at $35+/ night, this destination is the most expensive option.
Leaving the tropics, here are some cheap flights to Europe where you could either choose to stay or grab a cheap train or flight with Ryanair or easyJet to anywhere from North Africa to the Middle East and Asia.
Dublin, Ireland: $550+
This summer you can experience the vibrant Irish nightlife or explore medieval castles and the beautiful landscapes featured in shows like Game of Thrones. Hostels start at $28+/night and one way flights out of the country for as low as $22+.
Lisbon, Portugal: $700+
A beautiful city to explore on foot, Lisbon offers travellers a perfect European experience for cheap. Hostels start at $18+/night and flights to other cities start at $41+.
Paris, France: $700+
The daily cost of living in Paris makes this one of the most expensive destinations on the list, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a great place to travel to on a budget. Parisian nightlife and art make the city a great destination for those who want to gain some European culture this summer. Hostels start at $26+/ night, and this is a great city to travel from with flights out of the country as low as $12+.
The world is back open for you to explore after the last two years of COVID-19, so take advantage of some cheap destinations this summer and go somewhere new!
It’s important to remember that you do not need to have a lot of money to explore the world. Just because you are on a budget does not mean you have to settle for a staycation this summer!
We can thank the vaccine passport for Quebec’s high vaccination rates, but now all incentive to get vaccinated is gone. As of March 12, the Quebec vaccine passport is no more in bars, restaurants, movie theatres and more. This means people who chose not to get vaccinated, once incentivized to get the shot by limitations placed by the Quebec government – limitations as recent as January – have no more reason to get their covid immunization.
To be transparent, here’s how I feel about the whole thing.
Even as a pro-vaxxer who feels safer with the shot and boosters, no public incentive will make me drag my feet. So imagine someone who just doesn’t want to be vaccinated – despite the public and personal safety it can bring us, many will never get the shot(s) for a variety of reasons. Some of these reasons should be respected, but the general population should make up the difference, in a way.
This is my opinion — one of many different ones felt on the Concordia campus, as the university dismantled their vaccine mandate. While it was only in place for certain gatherings, sports clubs, the gym and Reggies, our campus bar, students had a lot of thoughts to share.
We went around Concordia’s downtown campus on Friday to ask students how they felt vis-a-vis the return to normality.
Guillaume Sercia, studying Human Environment
I think its a good thing [the vaccine mandate is going away]. At some point we have to come back to reality, to normality. […] It wasn’t a big issue for me, but I was frustrated for the people who couldn’t take part in regular activities. I would feel safe even without a vaccine, so it doesn’t bother me.”
Carles Ngoupeyu, studying accounting
I don’t agree with the vaccine mandate. They didn’t think about the non-vaccintaed. […] You just feel alone, separated from others. Those who are vaccinated will say the opposite because they have access to everything. But when you are not vaccinated, it’s just different. And to feel like you can’t enter a store because you didn’t get a vaccine; feeling like you’re limited in your actions because of a vaccine, it’s just really terrible.”
Nadeem Alhajzein, studying studio arts and art history
I don’t totally agree with the idea of a vaccine mandate being removed. I feel like [the] Quebec government is kind of like, going up and down different rules.”
“But I do understand how it’s supposed to be trying and getting people to go back to normal, I guess. But I still feel like it’s something that should still be at places because it does help us.”
Yannis Affoum, studying for a certificate of Science Foundations
I’m actually kind of happy. It’s very annoying to always have to worry about these things, and always having to show your phone, show your QR code, and all these things… It’s kind of annoying. And for people who dont have a QR code, it’s kind of discriminatory.”
Ahmed Riad, studying electrical engineering
It’s great, people [now] have the choice of taking the vaccine or not, I personally took the vaccine. […] People should have the freedom to take the vaccine or not.”
Marwa Khalid, studying software engineering
I wouldn’t really feel comfortable. Obviously, it’s a really crowded place, there’s a lot of people, and if they are not wearing their mask, you don’t know if they have [COVID], or dont have it, or even if they are facing symptoms. The removal of masks doesnt mean they don’t have COVID. [But] I don’t think it was the university’s place [to implement a vaccine mandate], I think it’s the government that makes that decision, then the university should follow.”
Photos by Catherine Reynolds
My success with online learning (and problems with the traditional classroom).
We’ve known for a long time that everybody learns differently, so why aren’t we giving students options?
I’m not ashamed to admit it, I struggled through my undergrad. Lots of discontinued classes and less-than-stellar grades. Until recently, that is.
When classes were moved to Zoom, my grades consisted of almost straight As. My performance during this time convinced me that I was capable enough to give grad school a shot — a longtime dream of mine.
My GPA was scarcely above the cut off for a Masters in Public Policy and Public Administration, and strong letters of recommendation from teachers as well as solid volunteer experience were just enough to allow me to get through by the skin of my teeth.
My first semester of online grad school went swimmingly. I was able to boost my GPA (again) and even had time to get involved in student government as the VP Internal of the Political Science Graduate Student Association.
Then came the announcement: we would return to in-person studies in February. Like many students, I had my reservations. Mine, however, were different. Some were anxious to return to campus for health reasons, as was I. While I had many elderly relatives and was in several risk groups for COVID-19, there was another dimension to this. I knew there was a stark difference in my performance during the period of online learning and before, when most student life took place in person.
Reviewing my own transcripts, I could also see that an earlier, pre-pandemic experiment with online learning on eConcordia had yielded similar results: more straight As. Sadly, there are no eConcordia courses available for my current program.I’m sorry to say that the return to in-person class has not been good for me. Without going into too much detail, it seems that many of my old problems returned. Distractions, travel time, issues with the facilities, are all features of campus life.
I took the features of online learning for granted, but I can’t help but wonder: why can’t we have options and flexibility? I can understand many people were looking forward to the return of in-person classes, but by the same token, many of my colleagues had a positive experience of working from home and may not want to go back.
So far it looks as though the government is giving office workers the opportunity to continue doing this, but not us. Moreover, why are they so adamant about having us on campus? Like many policy decisions during the pandemic, it appears to be very top-down and arbitrary, imposing a “one size fits all” approach to complex and nuanced problems.
One can’t help but feel as though the decision also reflects an anachronistic vision of students. In the past, it might well have been the case that many students (who were young, affluent, single men) wouldn’t have to work on the side to finance their academic path, never mind looking after dependents. Most of us juggle the many different facets of our lives.
Online learning and working from home were brought about by necessity, and in turn, this had led me to question the necessity of in-person learning. It may boost student engagement in some cases, but there are always exceptions to every rule and for everyone to realize their full potential, there should be options available, especially for those who have health concerns as well as professional and family commitments.
The internet is a part of our everyday lives and we should be embracing its demonstrated potential to make things easier instead of simply following traditional course delivery for no other reason besides that it’s what we have always done in the past.
Photo by Cathrine Reynolds
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Toil-et and trouble
Why we shouldn’t be charged to use public bathrooms
I’m dancing at a club in Amsterdam. House music blares (I wish it was Taylor Swift instead), the floor is sticky, and the room is filled with people. It’s fantastic, especially after so much time spent in lockdown.
What’s not fantastic is my acute urge to pee. I tap my friends on the shoulder and let them know I’m going to find the washroom.
When I get there, I’m appalled. There’s a woman standing outside the door, collecting 50 euro cents before allowing people through.
Over the course of my first few weeks on exchange in Europe, this is not the first time I’ve been required to pay to use the facilities. Budgeting for entering public washrooms is one thing that I certainly had not planned for.
Still, I need to rant about why I think this phenomenon, though extremely common here, is absolutely insane and should definitely not exist.
My first point is the obvious one: needing to excrete is a natural and normal function of our bodies, so why should we have to spend money to do so? It’s the infrastructure surrounding our ability to relieve ourselves in a socially acceptable way that’s not natural.
And the fact that we’re forced to pay for a basic necessity of our own human creation makes it even worse.
Also, we can’t control when and where we’ll suddenly have the urge to go. If we could, I guarantee no one would ever use a public washroom to begin with. But since that’s not possible, shouldn’t our toilets be accessible to all?
Another point for my takedown of the pricey public washroom is the consequences you face when you don’t have your 50 cents, or refuse to pay all together.
The first option that comes to mind is good ol’ fashioned public urination, which is a literal fineable offense. The logic here is missing — if you don’t pay for the washroom and nature pee (or wild wee, as my British flatmate calls it) and get caught, you have to pay even more. It makes no sense.
This is even worse: to combat this “problem” of public urination, probably correlated to the blasphemous concept of paying to use the washroom, the Dutch installed public urinals (a glorified hole in the ground with a panel for privacy) at some places in the center of certain cities. But of course, this brings forth an annoying double standard. While penis-owners who are comfortable enough get to whizz to their heart’s content, free of charge, people with vaginas don’t have it as easy. Classic.
Furthermore, as I’m writing this, it’s becoming clear that paying for public bathrooms isn’t the sole facet of our society that works this frustrating way. Period products, though necessary because of the cultural norms surrounding menstruation, are also inaccessible without money.
My annoyance with having to pay for the public bathrooms in Europe reveals a harmful phenomenon. Humans create these unbreakable social norms relating to natural bodily functions and then profit off of them, leaving those who can’t pay in difficult situations.
I can’t say I expected my rant about public bathrooms to get so serious — but oftentimes, it’s the most silly topics that end up revealing the most. While I don’t have a solution to the challenges of commoditizing natural bodily functions, the best I can do is bring attention to them to try and advocate for a change.
Graphic by James Fay
Answer: we don’t know
Girls Who Like Money is a column written to help you feel less bad about your money habits, plus some advice on how to finance your expensive taste.
What is it about being 22 that makes you realize who you are? Is there some sort of old and wise threshold that you need to pass in order to understand all those parts of you that don’t make sense?
I’ve been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and for a long time that was all it was. I have always been artistic, creative, independent, down-to-earth, and a go-getter. However, I am also forgetful, never on time, stubborn, jaded, and chronically depressed and angry.
Everyone’s good traits have a dark side (call it yin and yang). For me, perfectionism manifested into hard-core-BDSM-level workaholism. Some might call it ambition. I call it perfectionism, but often throughout my life it appeared as the exact opposite: carelessness.
I suppose it’s because it’s impossible to be perfect all the time, but my nit-picking has always been selective, and school was last on the list. I took the easy way out with everything that was required, but anything not required had to be executed to perfection.
The other day I started thinking about high school. I don’t remember much from my time spent in class, apart from harsh fluorescent lighting and the constant feeling of wanting to get in and out of it as soon as possible. I was always rushing to school, as two tardies got you detention, and rushing out of school, back to my other life.
My other life, my real life, was work. I’ve always loved learning, but having long-ago realized the arbitrariness of grades, my brain must have logically pushed them to the bottom of my priorities. Schoolwork was just below chores, which were below exercise, which was below friends, which were below family, which, admittedly, was below work.
Work is over everything, and when you’re not working, you’re thinking about more ideas you can execute and whether something needs revision. Somehow, you always create more work.
You hope to surround yourself with other workaholics, so that your priorities don’t get in the way of, but rather support the friendship. So that’s how I’ve always met my best friends — through work. And that’s just one way a workaholic unconsciously creates a life that is centred around their job(s).
But how does a workaholic manage the other aspects of life? A workaholic might respond, “What other aspects?” Family, friends, relationships, and health all take a backseat when there’s work to be done. And there’s always work to be done… even when you’ve finished it all..
A workaholic often stays up late to top things off. Nine-to-five work hours are suggested for other people, but not for us. How does one kick off a budding career with all that time spent sitting around? Answer: one doesn’t. Instead, we use the omnipresent threat of said “budding career” as a reason to push harder.
We often wake up in the middle of the night to write things down, set our alarms for way too early, and end up sleeping in. Our Google Calendar app is where we feel most at home.
Even now as I write this, my partner and I are spending quality time, as we always do, cuddled up next to each other. As usual, he’s sleeping and I’m deep into this semi-necessary extra-curricular task.
We’re both workaholics, and as I explained once to my therapist, “It works out well because we have the same schedule.” She responded, “Yeah, but when do you spend time together?” I painted, for her, a picture of this exact moment: The Office plays in the background, he’s sleeping next to me, and I’m getting through the work I’m still catching up on from the day. That counts, right?
If you’re reading this and you think this may be you, I’m sorry but I haven’t figured out why we’re like this. If this article seems chaotic, that’s because it’s a reflection of me. However, there has been one discovery to come out of this.
As much as I love money, I realize now that money has nothing to do with my workaholism. You know how I know? Because I have three jobs. Two jobs are fun and make me almost nothing. The other job sucks and makes enough to pay rent and then some. Guess which job I do most?
I always thought I loved money so much that all I wanted to do was make more of it. But the truth is, I just want to do stuff. I always want to stay busy, because when I’m not busy, I just have ideas that never come to fruition.
It’s like getting in a metro car that never closes its doors. It just stays still for 20 minutes and you wonder if you should get off. And then another 20 minutes go by and you get off and you have to figure out another way to get to the place you’re going. It’s the same feeling.
People talk about balance, and I wonder how I can do that too. Let me know if you figure it out.
With love,
Lily
A Concordia podcast that teaches us how vulnerability can connect us to ourselves and each other
Often when I think of Linneah Shanti, I think of all the things that have to do with feeling good. A feeling of good-ness that isn’t attached to something I can hold, no matter how much I adore croissants and cappuccinos. A feeling of good-ness that unwinds from budding empathy, love in bloom. A feeling of good-ness that, like her podcast, would be the worst thing to keep secret.
Originally from Ontario, Shanti is currently based in Montreal and in her third year of Interdisciplinary Studies in Sexuality at Concordia University. The two of us were introduced during
our first semester at university. A year and a half later, in January 2021, she started The Lily Pod.
The idea had been on her mind for a while before then, morphing itself from a yearning to create something special. What she ended up creating is now a space for learning and exploring, focused on the disentanglement of ideas and quenching curiosities.
When I asked Shanti to try and contain The Lily Pod to a set of defining words, she playfully replied with “Queering the existence of life.”
TC: So where did the name come from?
LS: The initial intention for the name came from my desire for this podcast to be a safe, peaceful, and loving place. I decided to take garden imagery — which for me evokes a sense of calm, safety, serenity, and welcoming. Flowers, water, and greenery have always played a big role in my feelings of belonging and safety, which I wanted the podcast to reflect.
‘Lily’ is [also] a name my partner calls me because it’s an acronym for “Linneah I Love You,” which felt really special given the loving space I wanted to create.
TC: Given that the podcast is something that is both yours and something you share — where does being vulnerable fit into this context?
LS: It fits in with how I and listeners confront our own questions, instincts, and learned ways of thinking about the world. In the process of thinking about and creating the episodes, I’m constantly confronted with how much I want to share and what I really think about something… putting my thoughts into the void can be both really scary but also really liberating.
I get a few messages a week from listeners interpreting what I’ve said in a really personal way, and I find this openness to vulnerability really special. It’s this cool cycle where this vulnerable experience for me is made public, then made personal to someone, and then reflected back to me… we’re all going through it together.
TC: You’ve explored so many topics throughout the last year, from desirability, to the male gaze, to polyamory, to the complexities of gender… Is there one topic that has stuck with you more than the rest?
LS: I immediately gravitate towards what it means to desire and to be desired in the unique context of our own individual identities… how this intermingles with gender, sexuality, the body, perceptions. What it means to understand our positionality and using this understanding to connect us even if our experiences aren’t identical.
TC: If there’s one episode you recommend to first time listeners, which one would that be?
LS: The polyamory one! It was the first collaborative episode and was recorded with two beautiful friends. It felt like I was doing something more than just sitting down and recording… and it reflected a lot of different themes from a queer perspective, really encapsulating what The Lily Pod is.
How to listen to The Lily Pod
My favourite place to listen to Shanti’s podcast is in my bedroom, in the midst of my process of getting ready to go somewhere. I often catch myself audibly agreeing with her, or suddenly hyper-focused on a new thought she’s helped me connect with.
Regardless of where I am when I hit play, I’ve found that by the end of each episode I’m always left feeling some type of new.
The Lily Pod is available on Spotify, Buzzsprout, and Apple Podcasts. You can find more of Linneah Shanti @linneahrae and @thelily.pod on Instagram.
Photos by Catherine Reynolds
Categories
Omicron or I’m-in-class?
Exploring the impact the return to campus is having
I heard the ping of my email, and saw it was from Concordia — instantly, my heart started racing.
I read the email and my heart sank. We were returning to campus as of Feb. 3, 2022.
This was two weeks ago. Concordia has since re-opened its door to students, with most campus activities returning in person.
My initial reaction to the news of in-person classes was anger and disbelief: was Concordia seriously doing this? We are still at the height of a pandemic, and their response was to make us all go back? I instantly started to spiral — at the time, this was the worst news I could have gotten.
Truth is, going back to campus right now is scary. For one, I am the mom of a 15-month-old. He cannot get vaccinated, he cannot wear a mask. He is vulnerable to COVID. Now, twice a week, I have to go to campus and potentially expose myself to COVID even more so than before.
On top of the added risk, Concordia doesn’t seem to be implementing too many measures to ensure that the return to school is safe. I would feel so much better if there were more measures put in place. This semester is now bound to be a mess. Don’t get me wrong — I want things to feel normal again. I just don’t know if that’s going to happen.
I am frustrated and scared about being in person. I feel rushed in my return to campus. What was the real reason? Is it really just because of government directives? The reasons are varied.
Many people I know are over COVID, and think that we just need to move on. They say that at this point, we have to accept COVID is not going away, so we need to “just live life” and let things go back to normal.
I tend to fall more into the other category, where I think most of us just need a little more time. We need to remember that we have not officially entered the endemic phase here, and I think it would be better to value health and safety before other things.
With all the conflicting opinions, we will never really know the real reason Concordia decided to go back in person so quickly.
There are aspects of in person learning that I miss and am looking forward to. I miss jumping into conversations and not having to wait in the Zoom queue — it would definitely make my seminars a lot more enjoyable.
I’m even looking forward to something as simple as holding a physical book in the library again. Those things will be great, but not at the expense of me, my family, and my classmate’s health.
All that being said, I am at a place where I have accepted that this is our shared hell-hole that we call reality. I don’t have much of a choice, other than signing the petitions calling for a slower transition that have been circulating. I have to comply, and make sure that I do what I can to be safe with my return to campus.
I also realized that I don’t have to go through this alone. There are resources that I can access at Concordia that can help make this transition easier.
Concordia offers short-term psychotherapy, which can help with the transition with going back to in person learning. Of course, the experiences that each student will get may not be the same. So it’s important to note that there may be some challenges accessing these services. Regardless, it is still a resource that Concordia offers, so at least getting some information about it can be a starting point to having support during a difficult time.
While you are waiting for the professional services, there are things you can do on your own that could help. Something as simple as creating playlists with happy music might help put you in a better mood. Or cooking that dish you have been thinking about cooking for oh-so-long. Even going for a nice walk to get some fresh air, might make things a little less scary.
One of the most interesting things is that Concordia offers some self-help tools, including a wellness tracking tool, and various workbooks that students and staff can consult. Sometimes we just need some self-reflection, and that may help.
There are also text/phone support options that students can access. While most of these are external links, they are still being suggested through Concordia, like Wellness Together Canada, which has many resources and options for people to use and perhaps help them.
Sure, they’re not perfect, and people need to explore what works best for them, but this is at least a foundation that could help students.
While I am still incredibly nervous about the potential exposure, and wishing Concordia would do more, I have hope that with time and with access to resources, the semester will be the best it can be despite all the issues we are still facing.
Photo by Kaitlynn Rodney
Categories
Certainty? Never heard of her
Reflections on preparing for exchange in lockdown
I’m about to become insufferable. In a few days, I’m going to leave Montreal for Amsterdam, where I’ll be doing a semester at Vrije Universiteit (I hope to learn many things while I’m away, one being how to pronounce the name of my school).
As I’ve been so cautiously warned, my experiences studying abroad will become the incubator for all upcoming conversation topics. So naturally, I’m incredibly excited for this adventure and grateful to have access to such an amazing opportunity.
With the fifth wave in full swing, McGill canceling and reinstating their exchange program, and the general anxiety that comes with living through a pandemic, I’ve been holding my breath pretty much since I applied, hoping that I get to embark on this journey.
While Concordia International has assured students that they will still send them abroad despite the lockdown, the university encouraged us to continuously check in with our host countries’ protocols and weigh the risk of COVID-19 to make our decisions about whether to go accordingly.
Although the Netherlands currently has many cases, I’ve decided to continue with my plans.
Life there might not be exactly how I imagined it, but this is my only chance to study abroad if I want to graduate when I had hoped to. The pandemic is here to stay, so I’m going to learn to live with it and make the most of my experiences.
Since I need a negative COVID-19 test to enter the Netherlands, I’ve been practically quarantining two weeks leading up to my flight, hoping that my family members and I manage to avoid getting sick when Omicron is ravaging the city. It’s stressful because as much as I can avoid leaving my house, I know that this part of the journey is out of my control.
I’ve been finding it hard to limit my contact with friends and family that I know I’m not going to see for a while, and minimizing my time in stores picking up last minute pre-trip necessities.
Every time I do something semi-COVID risky, my whole trip abroad flashes before my eyes (even when I know that realistically, I’ll still be able to go, I’ll just be missing classes and have to change my flight — a doable but logistical nightmare).
While waiting and packing, I’ve been constantly monitoring the Netherlands’ COVID-19 protocols to make sure that I’m still allowed to enter the country. Since they are abiding by the EU travel ban, as of now, as long as I’m fully vaccinated, I’m allowed to fly in. On Jan. 20, however, when I was doing my routine browsing of travel restrictions, I was frustrated to see that they had just implemented a 10-day quarantine for people arriving from Canada.
Up until that point, I was permitted to enter the country and live freely but carefully upon my arrival, allowing me to take care of all the logistical matters (banking, cell phone plans, bike rentals, etc.) before classes start.
Not to mention, it wouldn’t leave me cooped up in a brand-new city when all I want to do is explore.
But hey, if I get there, I’ll be thrilled. A few days in isolation are definitely worth it for four months studying in Amsterdam.
While I was in the process of writing this, yet another change was made to the requirements for entering the Netherlands — boosted individuals don’t have to quarantine.
Annoyingly enough, at the time, this information was only available in Dutch, but luckily, my school forwarded us a translation.
This is a perfect example of the flip-flopping of expectations that I’ve been experiencing, though this time, it’s going in my favour! I’m really happy, but am also just waiting for another thing to be thrown in my way before I board that plane.
Still, while this lockdown has made nearly everything uncertain, what’s unwavering is my determination to make the best out of whatever comes my way. I know it’s cheesy, but the Dutch are known for their cheese anyways!
Update: Talia did make it to the Netherlands, and is now enjoying her time with her British flatmates. 🙂
Graphic by James Fay