Categories
Opinions

Syllabus or Sylla-BYE

A survey into the importance of syllabus week

You’re sitting on the couch, glass of red wine in hand, soaking up the last few days of winter break. You feel a buzz coming from somewhere under the layers of knitted blankets. You sift through them to finally find your cell phone glowing with a new email notification: “FART 201 SYLLABUS, WINTER 2022.”

You groan but swipe through to the PDF, skimming through the information. You’re desperately trying not to sob when you see the group project worth 50 per cent of your grade. Towards the end of the document, you see the classic section entitled “Plagiarism” that details the most deadly academic crime a student can commit.

But something is off…

Have you ever noticed that the paragraphs about plagiarism seem to be copy-pasted from syllabus to syllabus, often without proper citation?

You can thank me later.

That hilarious yet blatant instance of hypocrisy has caused me to think deeply about the syllabus and what it stands for. If such an important document contains such dissonance, is it really the best way to transmit all the details of a course?

A syllabus is defined by Merriam-Webster as “a summary outline of a discourse, treatise, or course of study or of examination requirements,” or some other lengthy combination of words that could be summarized easily. The syllabus is often considered a type of contract between the professor giving a course and their students. It’s the road map that provides those taking the class with an overview of what is expected of them, and what they can expect from the professor.

While syllabi have a noble and crucial goal, I was tempted to question whether they actually reach the student population.

In a recent and incredibly sound survey (a poll conducted on my private Instagram account), 82 per cent of the 234 people who answered read their course syllabi. I was definitely not expecting this overwhelming majority. Maybe I’m just a pessimist, and have unrealistically low expectations when it comes to university students reading long and repetitive packets of information… or my friends are just overachievers.

That being said, the poll was unable to measure the level of thoroughness which students go through the course outline. Last semester, a professor from the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, Kenyon Wilson, performed a mini social experiment on his students, during which he included instructions to find a $50 bill in his syllabus after telling his students to read it thoroughly. At the end of the semester, no one claimed the cash. There are two lessons here: we might not be as rigorous as we ought to be in our syllabus-reading and our professors should definitely incentivize students with money to do the bare minimum.

In another Instagram poll, I found that only 37 per cent of the 222 people who answered pay attention during the syllabus class, which is the first lecture of the semester during which some professors go over course content and take questions or concerns, taking it as far as reading the document word for word.

What was interesting was that a handful of the people who don’t read the syllabus do pay attention during the syllabus class, showing that though it can be redundant for those who read the course outline, others find that class necessary or a more effective way to retain the information.

Still, I’ve been pondering ways to make syllabi and the syllabus class more interactive, but all I could come up with is a shared Google Calendar or a hologram of your professor that appears on your shoulder whenever something is due.

So, it seems like syllabi are here to stay, and when used to their full potential, they’re helpful organizational tools. And who knows, maybe your professors will be inspired by Wilson’s experiment, so read carefully this syllabus season! (If they aren’t, you can always consider a strongly worded email to Concordia administration demanding cash for reading…).

 

Graphics by James Fay

Categories
Opinions

Tackling worldwide issues requires a new definition of proximity

COVID-19 tested our ability to care for strangers, and this test will only continue as we face climate change

I scoured the internet for the name of the first man to die of COVID-19. I learned that he was a 61-year-old man from Wuhan, China. I learned that he was a regular at the live animal market, he had previously been diagnosed with abdominal tumours and chronic liver disease, but I couldn’t find his name. He’s a number; he was patient zero. His heart failed on Jan. 9, 2020, and since then, there have been over 5.5 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide.

As consumers of news, there is always a disconnect when reading about events happening overseas.

These stories lack one of the seven ideals in newsworthy journalism: proximity. If you want people to read your articles, you need to report on issues that affect your reader or their communities directly. A man died of a virus in China, why should I care?

At this point, the answer to that question should be clear.

After that first death in Wuhan, it only took three weeks for the World Health Organization to declare a global health emergency, on Jan. 30, 2020.

Every single person on the planet was affected by COVID-19 in one way or another, and as the world becomes more globalized, there will be more of these worldwide issues that affect all of us. What we thought of as “proximate” is no longer relevant.

The problem we’re facing is that these new types of global issues are blurring geographical borders, but we are all still inclined to care more about issues directly affecting our family, friends, and neighbours. It’s hard to care about strangers overseas.

In international news reporting, we need to be connecting readers to issues by fabricating a sense of proximity. This would lead to better global awareness and a deeper understanding of events that will inevitably affect us all.

Personal narratives can be used to “reduce” distance and diminish the disconnected feeling we get from reading about foreign issues.

Having journalists report on people’s lives in a more intimate way can make it easier for audiences to empathize with the subjects — even those from far away, and even when they are not directly affected.

About two months into the pandemic, NBC News published a story about 60 lives in 60 days, which told the stories of some of the first American victims of COVID-19. They outlined other hardships the victims overcame in their lives and provided testimonies from loved ones. While this project didn’t receive an overwhelming number of likes on social media, the comments posted in response were genuine. Strangers were mourning these deaths.

However, in some cases, cultural or political barriers don’t allow us to gain the insight we need to make these connections.

Obviously, reporting operates differently in China.

Whether the country was trying to downplay the virus in January 2020 as they did with SARS in 2003, or whether the government’s official statements were delayed due to its complex, rigid system, it is possible that patient zero’s name purposely wasn’t shared. But not sharing his name was a disservice to the rest of the world.

If you had told me he left behind a wife or kids, it would’ve made me think of deaths that occurred in my own family. It would’ve brought about a fleeting wave of sadness, and it would’ve sparked an emotional connection.

Award-winning writer Walt Harrington wrote that more intimate journalism stories open “windows on our universal human struggle,” — and death and mourning are inevitable for all of us; it’s relatable. Sure, patient zero’s personal details wouldn’t have been all that relevant in reporting the spread of the virus, but readers abroad would’ve been able to connect.

COVID-19 isn’t the only ongoing global issue. Climate change is creeping up on all of us. And I mean all of us.

Developing countries have been suffering for decades from earthquakes, tsunamis, and other natural disasters as a result of global warming. And if that’s not enough to make you care, the recent floods in British Columbia are an indicator that these problems are not as far away as they may seem.

Sound familiar? The virus once felt far away too.

COP26, the most recent UN climate change summit, is one example of a collaborative effort — however flawed it may be. After 26 gatherings, the Earth should be in better shape, but what we do benefit from is the exposure to those people affected by climate change.

James Cadet, the Minister of Environment of Haiti, spoke in French about how their lives are “intimately linked” and their economies are “interdependent.” It doesn’t matter how far away Haiti may seem; COVID-19 wasn’t bothered by geographical borders, and climate change won’t be either.

Haiti is a vulnerable country and undoubtedly feels the intense consequences of climate change. Hearing first-hand about the hardships faced from a Haitian native creates a new type of proximity in which listeners feel closer to and empathize with the speaker.

Some journalists have turned to different forms of media to fabricate this sense of proximity.

Mia Lindgren, Professor and Dean at Swinburne University of Technology, discusses the effectiveness of audio media in storytelling. Mediums like radio and podcasts create proximity with the human voice. Hearing the warmth in the voices of strangers makes it easier to relate and sympathize than it would be through a piece of text.

Ear Hustle, a podcast which is recorded and posted by current prison inmates, is a perfect example of how technology has made it much easier to keep up with people beyond our own geographical and social borders.

Listeners can feel the pain, sadness, or guilt in the voices of the podcast host and guests. Audio storytelling achieves the element of proximity outlined in the principles of successful, newsworthy journalism.

Not knowing the name of COVID-19’s patient zero created even more distance in a situation where it was already difficult to connect. What if he wasn’t just a faceless victim? What if we had the opportunity to feel for him more deeply, 11,000 kilometers away?

If Wuhan wasn’t reported on, the situation could’ve been very different once COVID-19 reached North America. If there wasn’t communication across various nations, it’s possible that vaccines would not have been developed as quickly as they were. People need to be aware of events happening internationally – that’s how solutions are found.

This lesson learned from our pandemic response can be applied to every sort of global issue. Solutions will require worldwide collaboration, so again geographical proximity becomes irrelevant.

The Montreal Protocol is the most impressive example of this much needed communication and collaboration, as it is the only UN treaty to ever be ratified by all 197 UN-recognized countries. This collective agreement to protect the ozone layer came into effect in 1989. Among its notable achievements, it has led to the phaseout of the production and consumption of 98 per cent of ozone depleting substances. Global cooperation led to fixing global-scale problems — weird!

The traditional definition of proximity is no longer relevant in deciding what is “newsworthy.” As our problems get bigger, we have to widen the scope of our concern accordingly. Journalists have the power to create a feeling of proximity through their storytelling and make us care — something the world desperately needs as we face unprecedented, worldwide issues. The stories of those already affected by climate change must be shared, because we saw what happened when the world couldn’t sympathize with patient zero.

 

Graphics by James Fay

Categories
Opinions

Decolonizing Canadian journalism

How Canadian journalism fails missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, two-spirit, and trans women

Gabby Petito’s case has received national spotlight in the United States, and deservedly so. It is important as a society to be aware of cases involving missing and murdered people.

However, her case has also received national spotlight in Canada, and this country has its own pressing issues with the news coverage of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, two-spirit, and trans women (MMIWGTSTW).

Indigenous women account for only 2 per cent of Canada’s population but are overrepresented as victims of physical and sexual violence and murder. In fact, Indigenous women aged 25–44 are “five times more likely to experience a violent death than any other [group of] Canadian women,” wrote researcher and community organizer Kristen Gilchrist-Salles in her research paper. Indigenous women and girls also represent 50 per cent of all sex trafficking victims in Canada. On top of this, there is a lack of statistics for Indigenous two-spirit and trans women, but that is another issue.

Despite these harrowing statistics, MMIWGTSTW receive disproportionately low news coverage in Canada compared to missing or murdered white women in terms of the amount and ways in which the coverage is formulated.. This speaks to how Canadian journalism fails Indigenous people and why the industry must be decolonized.

Unnewsworthy victims

Gilchrist’s 2010 study, “Newsworthy’ victims?,”  drew upon three cases each of missing and murdered Indigenous women and white women, and compared their coverage in Canadian news media.

In the sample of white women, they were referred to as victims 170 times on average, had 62 articles written on their cases on average, and the articles were an average of 713 words long.

Indigenous women were referred to as victims 27 times on average, had 18 articles written about their cases on average, and the articles were an average of 518 words long.

In addition, the articles that were written about Indigenous women tended to be hidden amongst advertisements and soft news.

The numbers for MMIWGTSTW are partly rooted in the searchlight phenomenon, where there is brief intensive coverage followed by a reporting void. This void exists because they are not newsworthy victims — they’re not white.

Anti-Indigenous framing

Dr. Yasmin Jiwani, a Communication Studies Professor at Concordia University, found in her 2008 study about gendered violence in Vancouver’s DTES that victims who were poor, sex workers, Indigenous, or some combination of the three were labeled by news media as ‘high-risk’ for experiencing violence.

This label implied that Indigenous women were experiencing violence because of their own ‘bad’ decisions, “rather than that they were put at risk by the social conditions and societal factors governing and shaping their lives,” wrote Dr. Jiwani in the study.

Conversely, Kwagu’ł scholar Dr. Sarah Hunt raises a point in an article she wrote for rabble, “Why are we so hesitant to name white male violence as a root cause, yet so comfortable naming all the ‘risk factors’ associated with the lives of Indigenous girls who have died? Why are we not looking more closely at the ‘risk factors’ that lead to violence in the lives of perpetrators?

According to the final report of the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, “negative sexist and racist representations of Indigenous women, girls, and 2SLGBTQQIA people are part of Canada’s colonial history.” Indigenous womanhood being conflated with sex work (which should not be taboo) creates a harmful stereotype, normalizing the physical and sexual violence against them.

In practice, this is what framing theory looks like: intentionally presenting Indigenous women as less newsworthy victims than white women in order to cause non-Indigenous readers to have a lack of empathy for them.

Calls to action

The first step to decolonizing Canadian journalism is following through with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) calls to action focusing on media and reconciliation. Calls to action 84-86 speak to the lack of Indigenous representation in the industry and its schools.

The specifics of this include, “ii. [i]ncreasing equitable access… to jobs, leadership positions, and professional development opportunities…” and, “iii. [providing] news coverage and online public information resources on issues of concern to Aboriginal peoples and all Canadians.”

When the TRC’s report was published in 2015, Indigenous peoples comprised only 1.5% of CBC’s employees. According to the 2016 Canadian census, Indigenous peoples comprised 4.9% of the population.”

CBC’s diversity and inclusion plan for 2015-18 aimed to address the lack of Indigenous peoples employed by the corporation by creating paid internships for Indigenous reporters at Radio-Canada and in television production (among other actions).

In 2018, Indigenous representation in the CBC workforce increased to 2.1 per cent, 2.3 per cent in 2019, and decreased to 2.2 per cent in 2020. The increase was minimal at best and there is still no CBC executive that identifies as Indigenous.

Indigenous peoples are underrepresented in an industry that is critical for their public perception. News media that reduces Indigenous peoples to a set of fixed attributes to define and frame them by is not ethical journalism.

Canadian journalists owe it to themselves, to the non-Indigenous Canadian public, and Indigenous peoples to provide MMIWGTSTW just news coverage due to the power they yield in shaping what people think.

Most importantly, however, coverage of Indigenous peoples should focus on the elements that make them human rather than solely victims. However, for issues such as MMIWGTSTW, the coverage that does occur must refrain from anti-Indigenous framing and must be given the same level of prioritization that white women receive in terms of the length of articles, its placement in a newspaper or website, and more.

Call to action 86 would help with this as it calls for Canadian journalism programs to incorporate mandatory education for all students about the country’s colonial past, present, and future. This could help create generations of journalists that would cover Indigenous with the same journalistic rigor and integrity white women are provided.

Decolonization in Canadian journalism begins with establishing Indigenous education frameworks in journalism schools and having proportionate representation in the workplace. It will be achieved when factors such as race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality do not result in disproportionate and skewed news coverage.

 

Feature graphic by James Fay

Categories
Opinions

Shaping the war in Afghanistan

How does the Canadian perspective of Afghanistan relate to reality?

Afghanistan was at the forefront of media coverage in August and September as the Taliban seized Kabul. Yet only three months later — with the country on the verge of collapse — we see few headlines devoted to the humanitarian crisis exacerbated by decades of foreign invasion.

In September 2020, I had the opportunity to visit Afghanistan. While I could not ignore the risks associated with an active war zone, I wanted to see the country for myself, beyond the death and destruction central to Canadian media coverage. When I arrived in Kabul, my western perspective was immediately challenged. As someone who grew up in Canada, I relied on the news to relay information from overseas. So, I asked myself, why was I so surprised to see bustling markets and colourful homes rather than buildings reduced to rubble? It made me think — what do we Canadians really know about Afghanistan?

Canadian media coverage of Afghanistan is focused almost entirely on politics and military developments, rarely depicting civilian life. In part, this kind of reporting is fuelled by the sources used by journalists and the stories that come out of them. In a meta analysis of news articles published during the intervention in the country, nearly half the stories cited military and government officials as primary sources, and over 40 per cent did not include a secondary source.

Overlooking Kabul, September 2020. KATHLEEN GANNON/THE CONCORDIAN

The Canadian military has a vested interest in selling its success to the Canadian people. The easiest way to do so is by framing the information given to the media in a way that justifies the military’s operations in Afghanistan. While journalists do fact-check and challenge officials, this preferred narrative remains key to coverage of the conflict.

One way to get close is through embeds — journalists attached to military units. The process is far from impartial, as any reports from within an embed must be signed off by commanding officers.

Naturally, no incriminating information would be allowed to leak. Graeme Smith, once a foreign correspondent in Afghanistan for The Globe and Mail, recounted how the military soon became concerned with spin, sending out supervisors to accompany the journalists. Given this element of censorship, embedded journalists seem to serve solely as a military mouthpiece.

The majority of stories reported from Afghanistan favoured a top-down outlook. The problem is that there needed to be a variety of information that went beyond the military and political elite, in order to challenge the propaganda that promoted Canada’s presence in Afghanistan.

With the declared “War on Terror,” perceptions of the Islamic world began to shift. Afghans were vilified and the country was referred to as a failed state. In 2001, the National Post published an article by Mark Steyn titled “What the Afghans need is colonizing.” Alienating Afghanistan served to bolster Canadians’ support for the war and the atrocities that awaited. Inciting fear among Canadians — perpetuated by the media — permitted the government to disregard Afghans’ safety in the name of our own security.

Canadian reporting about Afghanistan is often episodic. It recounts a specific incident, usually involving death tolls and insurgency attacks. Canadian media lacked the context necessary to provide readers with an in-depth understanding of a conflict dating back to the ‘80s.

At the peak of the conflict in the late 2000s, with millions of dollars being poured into the country, why was only one Canadian journalist stationed there full-time? Smith was the only permanent reporter through 2006 to 2009, spending most of his time in the southern Taliban stronghold Kandahar. There is a revolving door of journalists covering the war in Afghanistan, yet few have the longevity to truly understand its implications.

Politicians portray themselves to be the only sources of correct information, leaving Canadians with a misrepresented understanding of Afghanistan. Readers are forced to assume the responsibility of piecing together fragments of a much bigger story.

Despite best interests to accurately portray the conflict, the country has long been ostracized by both politicians and the media. An overwhelming majority of stories reported in the 2000s were rooted in negativity, focused on the volatility and chaos of Afghanistan. A small portion was considered neutral, the positive stories nearly negligible.

News coverage has to do with proximity. When compassion only extends so far, journalists must seek out ways to connect readers to Afghanistan. Any human interest pieces coming out of the country must connect back to Canada in some way — refugees landing in Toronto, a translator to the Canadian Forces — and, usually, mentions the military.

In the end, people are drawn to disaster. Suicide bombings and military advancements are far more likely to captivate readers than a feature on an Afghan school for young girls. But playing into shock value inevitably slants coverage. While focusing on violent incidents may increase engagement with Afghanistan, it reinforces the narrative that the country is no more than a dangerous terrorist den.

When media coverage strips away humanity, it further alienates Afghanistan and its people from the international community. The stories told from Afghanistan favoured the Canadian perspective, failing to paint the bigger picture — 13 years of war and bloodshed. The Taliban’s road to reclaiming Afghanistan was paved by foreign intervention and its failures. Now, Afghans are left to fend for themselves and Canada has already turned the page.

 

Photos by Kathleen Gannon

Categories
Opinions

Will I “make it” as a foreign journalist?

We need to talk more about representation and diversity in journalism

Any thoughts about this issue?” Professor Z asks in class on a Monday morning. I look around me and a few hands raise, but I think twice (maybe three times), if I should join the conversation or not. “What if I make a fool of myself? What if nobody understands me?” These doubts come to me immediately. I lock eyes with the professor for just a second, he knows I want to speak, but I look away and say nothing. The class continues once again with me fading into the background.

I am a graduate student in Digital Innovation in Journalism, so I’m best friends with anxiety, stress, and an imposter syndrome at its peak, which is something very relatable among newcomers to the discipline, according to Leila El Shennawy from The Pigeon. However, I am also a Mexican person of color, without a journalistic background, who hopes to communicate well enough in a foreign language to “make it” through the program. So, there are times when I can’t help but think, “Why did I do this to myself?” And in my head, I fear these “extra layers” will eventually affect my chances to practice journalism here in Canada.

Well, in class we are encouraged to call ourselves journalists even though we are also students, so I might be a rookie, but a journalist, nonetheless. Maybe as a foreigner, I will face different obstacles than my local peers, but instead of continuing to pity myself, I have decided to write about it. The question is, “Where do I begin? 21.4 % of Concordia University’s enrolled students come from abroad, so I decided to ask those in my master program how they see each other as international journalism students and if they feel confident about practicing journalism.

When I approached a Lebanon-born classmate, she expressed some concerns given her feelings of starting from scratch, as she does not know the rules of the industry well here nor does she have any professional contacts. I can relate to that because we are not only students but immigrants as well. We must overcome an adaptation process to a new life while also putting ourselves out there even though we must compete against more experienced, self-confident people for a place in an industry that is going through an identity crisis that jeopardizes its own existence. Is journalism still valuable?” Some wonder.

The clock is ticking, and sometimes even cultural changes play an important role in how we perceive our chance to succeed. Another classmate who comes from India mentioned to me that journalists should feel comfortable in their environment and have a sense of belonging, but she fears facing more obstacles when knocking on the doors of professional newsrooms to ask for a shot, given that her professional knowledge is only in Indian media. We all have insecurities, but my colleagues and I deal with this “not so invisible wall” that challenges us constantly. “Are we part of this society yet?” “Are we going to be able to practice journalism in Montreal, Quebec, or Canada in general?” “Is there something we could reflect on as students to address this issue?” Well, among the critical approaches to journalism that we have studied so far, there is one that resonates with me the most.

Scholar Irene Costera Meijer explores three types of experiences the audience needs to consider the work of a journalist “valuable”: a piece that makes them learn something new, that manages to acknowledge diversity within society, and that understands and portrays this diversity accurately. There is value when you can see a mutual conversation and understanding between the journalists and the public. 

I think this approach could also apply to the overall academic training of journalists, that is, throughout journalism programs, we could incentivize more conversations and studies about how diversity, inclusiveness, and representation among journalists themselves bring value to the discipline. This critical approach could allow the variable of “diversity” to play a much more important role in our training. How could we have more chances to make it as journalists when we are so different from each other? Some of us feel far behind from the rest due to certain circumstances that, in any case, shouldn’t matter that much in egalitarian conditions.

I am a foreign journalist going through a learning curve in Canadian media, for sure, but I know I could provide a third perspective or a different angle about current phenomena thanks to my international experiences. In the end, we are all valuable for journalism, and while I understand it is our responsibility to work on ourselves and, if applicable, overcome our imposter syndrome, I believe it would be very helpful to see more diverse and international people represented in the readings we learn from. There is valuable journalism all around the world, and this is an interdisciplinary profession, so it would be enriching to study contemporary journalists, scholars, and academics from Lebanon, India, Mexico, and any other country in a much more organic way throughout journalism programs. Feeling represented is important, and while I know we all can make it, an extra reminder does not hurt anyone, but it can make a difference. In the meantime, I will try to join the conversation next class. I will try to raise my hand too.

 

Feature graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

Categories
Opinions

Girls Who Like Money: How I Beat My Shopping Addiction

My story of hitting rock bottom and making it out on top

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.

Let’s talk about depression. When people think of an extreme case, they automatically think of suicide, but the extremities of your symptoms can manifest in every area of your life. Think finances: Who’s paying the bills when you live alone and sleep for 16 hours a day?

Depression is something every person can be afflicted by. Even if you aren’t diagnosed, it’s not an overreaction to say, “I’m feeling depressed today.” Of course, it affects everyone differently. As a person with chronic depression, it makes me feel like life is hard. In truth, my life is easy. For me, it just takes a little more effort.

The difference between myself today and myself two years ago is that I now make a continued effort to stay out of depression. I closely monitor my actions, my reactions, and my mood. If I feel like I might be getting into a depression, I muster up all my strength to crawl out of it. Not saying it always works. But it’s better than what I did before.

Two years ago, if I felt myself getting depressed, I would relish in it. Actually, I wouldn’t “feel” myself getting depressed at all. I would ignore it. I would skip class, not turn in assignments, and show up late to work. When I lost my job, I had so little confidence that I couldn’t find a new one. I almost got kicked out of school. I could barely pay rent, never remembered to pay bills, ignored calls from collection agencies… That year I paid my tuition six months late.

On the outside, I appeared fine. I would joke and hang out with my friends, go out every night of the week, and consistently treat myself to whatever I wanted. 

It’s called instant gratification. It’s when a person ignores the reason why they feel bad, and just solves it right away with something really cool. This is the root of all addiction. Only problem is, it wears off after about 30 minutes. For me, that was shopping. One thing that’s great about Concordia is that a new pair of shoes is less than a minute’s walk away. Great for me, anyway.

At that time, after class, I would make myself feel better for showing up to the lecture 45 minutes late by treating myself to something nice.

It started out innocently enough. I just needed a new pair of mittens, since they keep my fingers warmer than gloves. $12. No big deal.

Later that week, it got colder. I needed a new coat, as mine was not quite warm or chic enough. And a scarf. And, ooh, this cute hat! $65. It’s okay, only a few dollars more than my wifi bill.

Next week, I decided I didn’t have any pants to wear (meaning I didn’t have enough so that I only had to do laundry every three weeks instead of two). So I bought a few new pairs of pants. While in the store I realized I was simply out of cute shirts, so I bought a few of those as well. $200, gone. Woah, half a month’s rent… But it’s okay, I’ll get a new job soon. (I didn’t.)

After pulling one too many times from my tuition-only savings account, I started not having enough money for rent. I was now spending up to $600 in one shopping trip, about once a month, wondering why I couldn’t pay for anything else. I still had no job, and no awareness that I was depressed. After ignoring yet another late rent payment, I decided my only option was to never enter a store again. Luckily, Canadian Amazon sucks.

I recovered soon enough. The next year, I quit smoking cold turkey. Soon after, I met my boyfriend of two years. If anything, what a relationship does is make you really see yourself. I started talking to a therapist and realized I was depressed.

Therapy taught me that I am the only one able to help myself. I speak to myself much more kindly now. I forgive myself for not doing the dishes for two days straight, and I get up and do them. I force myself to pay rent and to turn in my assignments on time, even when I suddenly have the urge to drop out or move across the country. I have not one job, but three. I signed up for auto-pay. I use a planner. I have money saved for the first time in five years. Everyday depression is there, but now I’m strong enough to fight it.

Feature graphic by Lily Cowper

Categories
Opinions

Fact-averse journalism is not journalism

For all pandemic news, journalists must base themselves on fact, not opinion.

According to the Canadian Association of Journalists’ ethics guidelines, journalists should not make assertions in their pieces. An assertion is a declaration used to express one’s personal beliefs, opinions, and feelings. Even if an assertion bears some truth, it is not a factual statement.

So because assertions may hold some factual integrity, they are sometimes hard to distinguish from facts. For this reason, social commentators who masquerade as journalists pose a threat to public safety — especially during the pandemic. Journalists should therefore separate their opinion from fact. If they do not, they should acknowledge how their views impact their ability to report with accuracy.

According to Statistics Canada, 90 per cent of Canadians relied on the internet for up-to-date information about COVID-19. This group mostly consulted online news sites, but they also consulted social media posts from news outlets, influencers, and other users. Furthermore, 53 per cent of Canadians have shared information about COVID-19 on social media without verifying its accuracy.

Based on these numbers, many Canadians do not have the time to fact-check the information they read. So, for the benefit of public health, journalists need to commit to the truth. 

One media outlet that blurs the line between assertion and fact is Rebel News. This right-leaning media outlet pairs factual information with misinformation. At the very least, they seem to omit information to increase the credibility of their claims. For example, this October a Rebel News journalist reported on the effectiveness of natural immunity to prevent COVID-19. They argued that this immunity is a more effective way to fight COVID-19 compared to Pfizer vaccines. To support the argument, they cited an Israeli study that also formed this conclusion. However, this study has not been peer-reviewed.

Once someone gets the virus and recovers, their immune system retains some memory of the virus. This means that their body has a blueprint for how to combat the virus in the future.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) published a peer-reviewed study in November that also studied the effectiveness of natural immunity versus vaccination immunity. It found that natural immunity does help stave off future infections but it is not as reliable as immunity gained from vaccinations.

These researchers also explained that the Israeli study analyzed the benefit of Pfizer vaccinations six months after injections were given. This time gap may have skewed the results because the immunity effects of the mRNA vaccines may have worn off.

The study also found that in some cases, natural immunity can help protect someone from COVID-19.

However, to become naturally immune to COVID-19, one needs to get the disease. So, it becomes a public health concern when journalists encourage people to get the disease or imply that all of our bodies can protect us from it.

According to the Public Health Agency of Canada, unvaccinated people are more likely to contract COVID-19. Since December 2020, there have been 837,239 reported COVID-19 cases. Of this group, 82 per cent were unvaccinated. Further, unvaccinated people accounted for 77 per cent of COVID-related deaths.

Misinformed health journalism becomes dangerous when you consider the death toll of COVID-19. This is especially serious because many people do not have time to fact-check every piece they read.

Also, in my opinion, misinformation pushes people to fear the COVID vaccine. A Canadian study looked at a randomized sample of 3915 tweets from Canadians who express anti-vaccination sentiments. They found that 48 per cent of tweets included worries about vaccine safety. So, if you pair this fear with the consumption of misinformation, it may encourage more people to expose themselves to COVID.

When it comes to health news, journalists have an imperative to consult and disseminate factual information. Those who assume this role cannot cherry-pick information to reinforce a political stance. They must investigate and accurately explain vaccine safety. Without this commitment, so-called journalists let Canadians down.

 

Feature graphic by Madeline Schmidt

Categories
Opinions

Why am I telling the story this way?

Podcasts are a form of journalism that reach audiences differently with various perspectives

Podcasts are the new radio. They create a space where listeners can plug in their devices during their daily commute and gain insight not only into what’s happening in the world but to any topic they can enter in the search bar. In the 2020 Signal Hill podcast report, Canadian adults represent 27 per cent of monthly podcast listeners, showing that there is a good reason to look at this medium as a form of journalism. Concerns about news representation and the format of podcasts has led to several discussions about the journalistic value they have. Catching popularity in the early 2000s, this is not a discussion we should still be having. Podcasts are a form of journalism.

Indeed, podcasts can extend to various topics, from news to lifestyle content, and listeners might not categorize every show they listen to as reporting. Still, what journalism is and how we cover stories are highly debated topics and adding podcasts as a medium has created differing opinions on how journalism should be represented. However, the fact is that podcasting fits into various categories of recognized journalism like investigation, news, reviews, features, and columns.

One of the answers to the question “What is a journalist?” often argues that journalists are primarily content producers. This can put them in the same boat with content creators and online platforms who create content in a specific niche to share with followers and subscribers, including but not limited to podcast channels.

“We’re all journalists in some right,” said Alyson Fair, consultant at Bluesky Strategy Group, a public relations firm. “Podcasts are an extension of journalism and allow more voices to be heard.” Fair explained that while being a producer for CTV and working with Don Martin, the two saw podcasting being introduced as a way to share stories, news and content — prompting them to jump in and not fall behind.

In recent years, the amount of adult podcast listeners has increased and the 18-34 age range make up over half of adult Canadian listeners, according to the 2020 Signal Hill podcast report. More specifically, the top podcast genres for this age range include society and culture, news, arts and sports. This shows that all the topics we find in traditional media are also being covered on podcasts, the majority of which have no extra cost to the listeners.

“You have a worldwide audience. You never had that before with traditional media,” Fair said, adding that podcasts are a way to engage in longer, more in-depth conversations about topics in all spheres, including news and politics. The less restricted media becomes, the more opportunity it gets to grow its audience.

Millennials and older Gen Zs spend more time listening to podcasts, with news remaining in the top three most popular genres, according to Signal Hill in 2020. These generations demonstrate an interest in understanding what is happening in the world, but crave a more in-depth comprehension compared to the short clips we see or hear in traditional media. The younger generations live in a time where cellphones are ubiquitous, as they are how we gain access to information. With podcasts readily available for free through multiple platforms and applications, we are more likely to gravitate towards podcasts to hear stories and gain knowledge whenever we want, as opposed to tuning into a timely broadcast or paying a subscription to a newspaper.

In 2019, 34 per cent of Francophone and 28 per cent Anglophone Canadians read the news almost exclusively in text form, according to the Digital News Report; this is only marginally higher than the number of Canadians that listen to podcasts. This shows that the use of podcasts as a form of absorbing news is similar to text-based news, one of the most traditional mediums.

Podcasts create in-depth stories, a format that doesn’t fall under “hard news.” Still, it shows that hard news is not the only news. Canadians are interested in different approaches and perspectives to the same stories we hear in shorter, less detailed formats, like television and radio news packs. Podcasts build on many niches, subjects, and themes, but what is common is that they have details about a topic that helps their listeners build a better understanding by sharing a storyline with relatable conversation. They integrate interviews, clips, and research that creates depth in a simple way that makes them easy to listen to. For example, the podcast Canadian True Crime provides extensive detail for listeners about crimes and cold cases in Canada. This niche-specific podcast involves investigation, interviews, and retells each story comprehensively. As journalists, that’s what we do.

The Globe and Mail Monday to Friday news podcast, The Decibel, released an episode on Sept. 22, 2021 about a sexual assault case at Western University, where young women were drugged and sexually assaulted during orientation week. The host of the episode interviewed an education reporter and the coordinating news editor from Western’s student paper, the Western Gazette, who discussed more details about the event. The episode shared background information, commonalities between the number of reported cases and how social media posts started the police investigation. This information thickened the storyline, with open conversations that allowed listeners to get a better idea of the situation that they wouldn’t have been able to get in the two-minute television broadcasts.

The most effective way to understand podcasting as a form of journalism is understanding that journalism itself evolves and adapts cohesively with new mediums. As the formats change, so should our perspectives on progressive journalism, finding ways to share stories, facts, answers, and opinions that appeal to a wide variety of audiences.

 

Feature graphic by James Fay

Categories
Opinions

Vote yes to sustainability in curriculum!

Concordia is four times lower than the national average in sustainability curriculum, and we must demand better

Disclaimer: Christopher Djesus Vaccarella is a CSU council member

In the upcoming CSU by-election, there is one referendum at play that will ask students to call on Concordia to make an institutional commitment: to implement the teaching of sustainability and climate change curriculum in all programs by 2030.

Let me tell you why you should vote yes to this question and how we can start a new era at our university. Concordia has a sustainability curriculum problem, and it is time to change that. According to data compiled by Waste Not Want Not from STARS, the North American gold standard for assessing sustainability in universities, only 8.5 per cent of Concordia graduates come out of their respective programs with any meaningful inclusion of sustainability curriculum. The average for Canada? 37 per cent! Both numbers are abysmal, but Concordia reaches new levels of low.

This is concerning, considering the climate crisis is only accelerating. Furthermore, there has been a push for a more expansive sustainability curriculum at Concordia, and we’re seeing a ground-up cultural shift led by the CSU, the Political Science Student Association (PSSA), Waste Not, Want Not and other groups on campus. For example the PSSA has implemented a policy which brings in sustainable practices, while also engaging in sustainability projects, which I wrote. To date, we have planted 250 trees in disadvantaged neighbourhoods and engaged in an urban agriculture project. At the CSU, we accomplished getting environmentally friendly menstrual products, and with the help of my amazing sustainability committee colleagues, have pushed to make Concordia a more sustainable campus, while entrenching these goals in our policies. Finally, according to Waste Not, Want Not,  since 2016, the Concordia community doubled its annual composting, and each Concordian reduced their annual overall waste by 16 per cent.

So, while students are making changes and are pushing for more sustainability practices and education, why has the administration been so slow in implementing new policies?

It does not take a rocket scientist to tell you we’re heading into a very dangerous situation when it comes to the climate crisis. It will take much more than divesting assets and retrofitting buildings to be more energy efficient for institutions to tackle this issue. The most important component is education, and teaching students about the plethora of current climate and sustainability issues. This education should aim to raise awareness, change behaviour, and equip students with the tools they need to contribute to the fight against the climate crisis within their professional careers. Issues with climate change and sustainability not only focus on the environment, but also on income inequality, gender inequality, systemic racism, exploitation and many more social issues. It is ill-advised to ignore growing concern and not teach students, regardless of their program, about these issues.

Recently, I have heard some people say that it does not make sense to teach these issues if you are in a business or accounting program, arguing sustainability is “not important” to the curriculum. Really? Then explain why major corporations, pension funds and promotional agencies are either transitioning to green energy, divesting or focusing on attracting green tech. Explain to me why the new International Sustainability Standards Board, which will, by the way, have one of its North American main offices set in Montreal, focuses on green financial practices and new, sustainable standards for corporations to follow.

Personally, it only makes sense that every single student, regardless of their program, must take classes that focus on sustainability issues and the climate crisis. Critics of this proposition say that “forcing” people to take these classes is not good and again, there is that element of “this is unnecessary for specific programs.” The job market in all fields is increasingly requiring more sustainability-related skills and awareness. Right now, we are ill-prepared at Concordia, and cannot compete in that job market.

Concordia must make the institutional changes and ensure that sustainability and climate change curriculum is a core part of all programs by 2030. This will mean more students will be aware of ongoing issues happening on this beautiful planet. It will also mean more people can help solve current and future climate issues, meaning more brainpower to help solve them.

This is the only habitable planet we have, and we must ensure that it is protected for generations and generations to come. Education is the most important aspect to help solve and combat issues pertaining to sustainability and climate change. With better education and tools at our disposal, we can leave a greener and more sustainable path for our kids, grandkids and our collective future.

With this, vote yes to advocating for more sustainability curriculum at the upcoming CSU by-elections. Let the administration know that we are demanding change, and that it is 110 per cent needed. Let us lead the change and inspire others to follow in our footsteps, and let us build the path to a greener, more prosperous and more equitable planet for everybody. Vote yes in the sustainability curriculum referendum question, online from Nov.16 to 18, and encourage your friends to do the same.

Christopher Vaccarella, on behalf of the Yes to Sustainability Curriculum Referendum Committee, proudly working alongside Faye Sun and Keroles Riad. You can contact Christopher Vaccarella at (president@pssa.ca), Faye Sun (Fsun@csu.qu.ca), and Dr. Keroles Riad (ilovecompost@concordia.ca)

 

Feature photo by Lou Neveux-Pardijon

Categories
Opinions

‘You Have Two New Notifications’

Moms were wrong about blaming phones for headaches, when they should have blamed them for annihilating your self-esteem.

Wednesday Oct. 13 at 9 p.m. was the exact time when I got two notifications on my phone. One was Duolingo reminding me that I was way behind on my French lessons. The other was a screen time report. Now, your author has a knack for making promises to do better next week, every week. But since I have been watching a lot of Ted Talks on self improvement these days, I decided to dig a little deeper and see which app was the culprit behind four out of five hours worth of daily screen time. It was none other than Instagram. I started falling down a rabbit hole of what else Instagram has done, besides distracting me from studying for midterms (and writing this article).

The cons are not limited to one’s dwindling GPA and the incomplete lessons — academics is just the tip of the iceberg. Social media has set some unrealistic expectations that make everyone feel like a failure, even if they’re not quite sure why. After all, how can you compete with that one celebrity family with millions of followers and perfect bodies? Not to mention that their posts are sponsored by brands that fund their exotic “workout regimes” (aka surgeries) that make them look even more unattainable, and give people of all age groups self-esteem issues.

Truth be told, the only failure here is the collective inability to recognize that social media is built to do just that. In fact, it thrives on our misery. Instagram earns money largely from advertising. Usually, you are more likely to click on an advertisement if you are in actual need of the product. But if you aren’t in dire need of anything, then social media will prey on your insecurities and generate a fallacious need.

Instagram uses user activity to suggest content, if Instagram catches you on a rough day, when you happen to be scrolling through posts and viewing celebrity endorsed products that claim to ‘fix’ your insecurities; Instagram starts seeing you as Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games and volunteers you as tribute to an array of brands selling similar products that flood your explore page. Take Kylie Cosmetics for example, Kylie Jenner had been the centre of media speculation for getting lip fillers. She weaponized the attention to market the launch of her lip kits via instagram — in minutes, she was able to sell 15,000 kits. This made Jenner and instagram their money. But as for Jenner’s young audience, and listening to her lies about not having fillers, calling it a wonder of makeup, a magical outcome of puberty, unaffordable prices of the kits — shattered their confidence and led to the Kylie Jenner lip challenge which culminated with people ending up in hospitals.

If you’re someone who does not fall for these tricks and instead seeks posts on body positivity and self-love, Instagram will resort to displaying posts about workshops and programmes that help one cope. This is great until you realize that there is a tiny ‘sponsored’ at the top left corner of these posts, and that Instagram is ultimately offering a solution to a problem that it itself contributes to or in some cases creates. So in either case the app profits, meanwhile either your self-esteem or your bank account loses.

In that manner, social media is no different than all the multinational companies that contribute to climate change and then launch “green campaigns.” They all are providing weak antidotes to extremely potent poisons of their own making. Therefore, no one goes on an Instagram swipe session and emerges a winner.

What irks me is that social media can promote an unscrupulous culture where fame triumphs over morality. Seeing Jake Paul’s ostentatious lifestyle — the swanky cars, the team 10 house and the lavish parties — might send some of his fans who are dissatisfied with their present circumstances into a vicious cycle of self-hatred and dejection. Despite Paul’s allegations of racism, his age inappropriate content, the police reports against him for public nuisance and an endless array of scandals, in the eyes of his followers it always seems like the grass is greener on his end.

Dr. Allison Forti is a licensed clinical mental health counselor in Winston-Salem, North Carolina and the associate director of the online counseling programs at Wake Forest University. In an interview with Forbes, she revealed that, “What social media users ‘attempt’ to sell and ‘how’ it is consumed from a psychological point of view are two different things.”

Forti went on to say, “Social media accounts promoting the message, ‘strong not skinny’ may be selling body positivity but consumers may be buying messages that set new aspirational norms. For someone at risk for an eating disorder, the voices in their head may shift away from a fear of weight gain, but still aspire toward body modification and restriction — to obtain their version of a strong body — that is fueled in shame and self-loathing.” Therefore, despite well-intentioned posts, you might be influencing or being influenced in an unhealthy manner.

As tempted as I am to go on about the evils of social media, I have to commend it for its role in connecting people and discovering job opportunities. For some patients in urgent need of an organ transplant, like Bo Harris, social media has given them a platform where they can ask for help and find donors. Social media has content that suits everyone, with the greatest gift of all being memes. As such, opposed to a complete elimination, let’s try to practice mindful consumption. The key to navigating social media in a manner that doesn’t wreck your self-esteem is to avoid making comparisons, and to compliment yourself on even your most seemingly trivial accomplishments. Realistic progress doesn’t happen overnight, nor does it happen in the absence of setbacks.

Speaking of small victories, since the completion of this article, I reduced my screen time by 30 minutes, and I am ecstatic about this minor accomplishment; as for DuoLingo, I will deal with that next week.

 

Photograph by Catherine Reynolds

Categories
Opinions

Netflix and Chappelle can’t play harmless

Whether they like it or not, media has always been influential

In 2021, it feels strange to still see debate around the influence the media has on real world events. I think of the 1994 movie Natural Born Killers, which was suspected to have inspired a slew of copycat crimes. I think of Stephen King’s 1977 novel Rage, which he allowed to fall out of print after incidents resembling those in the plot occurred after publication. And as a journalism student, of course I think of the industry’s mistakes. How perpetrators of mass violence have been sensationalized, then idolized and imitated. Or what about all the harm the media has caused Indigenous peoples, while ignoring the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirits, Even if a case is covered, the media usually perpetuates racist stereotypes through their coverage.

If you have any doubts about how powerful media can be, might I remind you about how misinformation helped elect Donald Trump in 2016, then caused a domestic terrorist attack at the U.S. Capitol? Or how about how misinformation about COVID-19 has led to confusion and resistance to public health measures? And, combined with centuries-long racist media, led to a spike in hate crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders.

That’s why Netflix Co-CEO and Chief Content Officer Ted Sarandos’s recent comments about veteran comedian Dave Chappelle’s controversial new Netflix special The Closer are so ridiculous.

Saraondo said, “With The Closer, we understand that the concern is not about offensive-to-some content but titles which could increase real world harm (such as further marginalizing already marginalized groups, hate, violence etc.) Last year, we heard similar concerns about 365 Days and violence against women. While some employees disagree, we have a strong belief that content on screen doesn’t directly translate to real-world harm. The strongest evidence to support this is that violence on screens has grown hugely over the last thirty years, especially with first party shooter games, and yet violent crime has fallen significantly in many countries. Adults can watch violence, assault and abuse — or enjoy shocking stand-up comedy — without it causing them to harm others.”

Chappelle’s The Closer spends a lot of time (more than you’d think for a 48-year-old straight man) talking about the LGBTQ+ community. Chapelle’s last special Sticks & Stones was similarly controversial, with jokes (or “jokes,” depending on your perspective) about the LGBTQ+ community, abuse allegations against certain celebrities, and his defence of admitted (but unprosecuted) sex offender and comedian Louis C.K.

Chappelle is undoubtedly influential. He’s an Emmy, Grammy, and Mark Twain prize winner, and arguably one of the most influential comedians of the 21st century. While The Closer does not encourage violence against the trans community, it is harmful.

He fixates on the private parts of trans people, mocks the appearance of queer people, uses slurs, and compares trans women to white people wearing blackface.

Chappelle jokes about rapper DaBaby, who recently made homophobic remarks about HIV/AIDS. Chappelle says DaBaby, “Punched the LBGTQ community right in the AIDS.” He goes on to reference an incident where the rapper shot and killed another Black man in self-defense, which did not negatively affect his career. Chappelle says, “In our country you can shoot and kill a n***** but you better not hurt a gay person’s feelings.” This is the self-proclaimed central idea of The Closer

“I have never had a problem with transgender people… my problem has always been with white people,” he says. But as Black gay activist and writer Kenyon Farrow points out, Chappelle is playing into, “a 30 year-old campaign carried out by Christian Right groups to use LGBT rights as a cultural wedge issue with African-Americans,” and forgetting how many people belong to both groups. Chappelle posits these communities against each other with stories about encounters he’s had with white LGBTQ+ people. He says he is jealous of the progress the LGBTQ+ community has made over a hundred years, and jokes that “If slaves had oil and booty shorts on, we might have been free 100 years sooner.” It’s clear to me that Chappelle is frustrated. I get the impression through his stories that he thinks the LGBTQ+ community is a way for white people to victimize themselves, get away with racism, and distract from the ongoing struggles of the Black community. I understand why Chappelle thinks this way given his age and the life he has led but it’s still unfortunate to see minority groups still be pitted against each other by white supremacist, Christian, and right-wing structures.

As the National Black Justice Coalition points out in their criticism of the special: “With 2021 on track to be the deadliest year on record for transgender people in the United States — the majority of whom are Black transgender people — Netflix should know better. Perpetuating transphobia perpetuates violence.”

It’s such a shame that Chappelle’s standup in the last few years has come to this. In his early career, Danielle Fuentes Morgan, who teaches a course on African American comedy at Santa Clara University, says that he “punch[ed] up, to speak truth to power, to focus his ‘attacks’ on injustices and institutions with discernibly more power than he had.” Punching up or down is a concept usually discussed in the context of comedy. Punching up means criticizing and mocking a person, group of people, or institution with more power than you. Punching down is the reverse. In Chapelle’s case punching up would be white people, the police, the government for example, trans people decidedly belong to a group with less power than the cis-het millionaire. In The Closer, Chapelle acknowledges that he’s been accused of punching down, and wonders what the phrase means. As Morgan writes, “In teaching Chappelle, it’s become increasingly important to address how a person can be marginalized while also marginalizing others.”

I’ve written about the real world impact media has on minorities before, but comedians are a special case. Culturally, comedians have a bit of an outsider/underdog complex that many can’t shake, even when they become famous millionaires. There’s even a common joke that comedians are themselves a minority group. And so they think they can joke about anything, forgetting they have influence, especially in the era of mass-produced, mass-streamed Netflix stand-up comedy.

Many have pointed out the irony and hypocrisy of Sarandos’ recent claims “content on screen doesn’t directly translate to real-world harm” even after the platform released Disclosure in 2020, a documentary about the impact of ignorant and inaccurate portrayals of trans people in American cinema. This is the same documentary Sarandos cites in statements following the Chappelle controversy about Netflix’s commitment to inclusion.

No matter what Chapelle, Sarandos, or anyone who whines about cancel culture says, art has impact. Jokes cannot just be jokes, especially not ones aimed at minorities. No, The Closer is probably not going to directly cause someone to go out and commit a hate crime, just like author J.K. Rowling’s trans-exclusionary radical feminist (TERF) essay didn’t. But when hate and ignorance is given a platform, it is normalized and perpetuated and that is what leads to violence and discriminatory legislation.

 

Photo collage by Catherine Reynolds

Categories
Opinions

Are kitchen jobs still worth it?

Even before COVID-19 flashed it’s teeth, the value of working in kitchen jobs was diminishing, and it’s not getting better

Let me be clear: cooking is a beautiful thing, whether it is the little dance that comes with combining ingredients, or the aroma of spices doing what they do best. However, moving this into restaurants is something that doesn’t translate all too well. When the server puts down a dish in front of a consumer, it’s all too easy to forget that there was a team in the back that had to prepare the ingredients, for the team on shift to put it all together.

These kitchen teams are falling apart. As a whole, the restaurant industry has seen a massive decline in staffing since COVID-19 joined the party. Following shift reductions and pivots towards takeout and delivery service during lockdowns, many industry veterans departed, and many have not returned. While it would be easy to place the blame on government aid like CERB, the reasons are actually much simpler. Government benefits have mostly subsided and many positions are still empty.

In a recent conversation with a coworker, I was told that this phenomenon is not particularly related to the coronavirus. There are an abundance of reasons to avoid working in food service positions, even if you love cooking. For starters, it’s hot, the pay is low, stress often runs high, and kitchen staff generally don’t see much of what servers get to take home in tips. Throw a mask mandate into kitchens that are poorly ventilated and you’ve got some poor working conditions. Having worked the grill at a steakhouse this past summer, I can say with confidence that the mask becomes a wet rag with ease.

So, what’s the deal? In my own observations from peers in the industry and interactions with management teams, I can say that everybody just wants to keep their heads above water. Supply issues have reduced the number of menu items, and operating costs like rent, utilities and food prices have all gone up. This has created a predicament for restaurateurs who are trying to put together teams of competent employees while also trying to make some profit, if any.

For a while now, average restaurants have hired people they know they can get away with paying less: teenagers! For the business, this makes sense from an economic standpoint. You can get away with paying them minimum wage with the lure of potential tips and occasional free food.

The caveat is that you get what you pay for. Throw a bunch of 17-20 year olds with little-to-no experience into a busy kitchen, and see how fast things can fall apart. When orders start flowing in without pause and servers are calling out how much longer, they can start making mistakes and food starts getting sent back to the kitchen. The culinary assembly line can slow down, and can very easily fall apart if not for one or two leaders keeping them afloat.

This mass shortage of people willing to work in kitchens and at a high level makes this a good moment for industry veterans. In comparison to the skills of an everyman, seasoned kitchen people’s skills are highly sought after because even if they command a higher salary, restaurants can feel comfortable putting this money into capable hands. That being said, the key workers here have more leverage to ask for more from their employers compared to their teenage counterparts. After all, restaurants cannot be run without people in the back who prep the ingredients and those who put it all together during service hours.

Amidst the lack of people who want to work in a kitchen and the lack of people who know what they’re doing, people with veteran experience can demand more from their employers when negotiating terms of employment. More work-life balance and higher wages are usually at the top of the list, although work-life balance is harder to strike when restaurants everywhere are short staffed.

Though it would seem that wages would absolutely explode in response to the shortages, that hasn’t been the case. While some chain restaurants with corporate backing can afford to trickle down some extra compensation, many independent restaurants and chains alike have not moved their starting wages. As a whole, the notion that restaurant wages are rising mostly applies to kitchen lifers who have stayed in their original posts, or those who have been headhunted by other desperate kitchens. The average kitchen employee is not seeing any noticeable increase to their rate of pay.

What seems to have happened is that people who were laid off in the initial shutdowns have found jobs in other sectors, and rightfully so. This past spring while working at a new kitchen job, my personal qualm was: why should I work under these conditions for 15 dollars an hour, without breaks or free meals, when I could be making minimum wage by working anywhere else? Then, at least I’d be ending when I’m supposed to and get to leave my shift without being all sweaty and stressed. For example, at 40 hours a week, the difference in pay between a minimum wage job and a 15 dollars/hour job is largely negligible. When the toll of demanding restaurant work is weighed against a small difference in pay, minimum wage jobs end up being better in the end for those that can afford it.

Is there an answer to the problem at large? Is there a way for kitchen jobs to appreciate after trending downwards for so long? Having worked in a handful of restaurants since I was 17, and still working in one to this day, I can say with certainty that things are relatively bleak. I’ve worked in low, middle, and high-end places, but the bottom line is that all of these are trying to survive. I can cut them slack in that regard, but my coworkers and I are still people. We have goals, families and lives that transcend the kitchens in which we converge to make our living.

Making things better for both people and these businesses is a tricky balance to strike because it centres around money. Regardless of wages soaring or sinking, kitchen culture is never going to die. A bunch of slicked and sweaty people sharing cigarettes after dinner service is something that has stood the test of time.

If coworkers truly make the job, then those bonds will continue to mould regardless of what these kitchen teams are composed of. That kind of camaraderie amongst people who are in the service industry is not going to diminish over the lack or surplus of a few dollars an hour.

People are still leaving though, and kitchen teams are getting thinner and thinner — with the idea that things will return to normal being the only element holding them together.

 

Graphic by James Fay

Exit mobile version