Tag: canada

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Concordia to co-lead new $160-million Canadian cybersecurity innovation network

Concordia will invest in a comprehensive cybersecurity program to further protect all computers on the university's network from potential cyber attacks. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian

How five Canadian universities are paving the way towards safer data and cyber-infrastructure

The Government of Canada recently announced that they will award $76.4 million over four years to the National Cybersecurity Consortium (NCC), with additional funding bringing their total initial budget to $160-million. The NCC is a federally-incorporated non-for-profit partnership that was founded in 2020, which includes five Canadian universities: Concordia University, Ryerson University, the University of Calgary, the University of New Brunswick, and the University of Waterloo. It is intended to be a world-class cybersecurity innovation and talent development network.

This announcement came during a critical time when cybersecurity is being placed at the forefront — it is currently being used as a defense against cyber attacks and part of numerous military operations.

A few weeks before the invasion of Ukraine by Russian military forces, Global Affairs Canada suffered a cyber attack. Canada’s cyber security agency speculates that the attack could have been from Russian or Russian-backed hackers. Mourad Debbabi, a Concordia University professor affiliated with the Concordia Institute for Information System Engineering and the director of Concordia’s Security Research Centre, emphasized the importance of such funding.

“It is everywhere; most companies have digitization and automation initiatives. One of the key factors for the successful deployment of technologies is security. So what’s the point of using technology if it’s not secured? Then you’re going to lose your data,” explained Debbabi.

This seems to be a key question that has potentially been neglected by the government until recently, when recent events, such as the cyber attack on the Global Affairs agency, pointed towards these gaps. Rafal Rohozinski, principal at the SecDev Group, senior fellow at Canada’s Centre for International Governance Innovation and CEO of Zeropoint security, has warned about a future cybergeddon— a conflict or a war that would take place in cyberspace and that would complete destroy society as we know it. This cybergeddon is something many security professionals fear, and have attempted to raise the alarm and point towards strengthening our cybersecurity.

Professor Debbabi states that the solution is in the numbers — and in collaboration.

“Very often, you don’t find that many faculty members with expertise in cybersecurity within one university. You need people that have the ability to defend and protect assets in terms of data, assets in terms of services, in terms of critical infrastructure — such as government networks, internet service providers and financial institutions. This is why creating an inter-university network, it’s an extremely smart idea because we will not work in isolation,” said Debabbi.

The above statement outlines the core mission of the NCC, which is to form a national and international network of cybersecurity research. Debbabi further states that the objective of the network is to advance the cybersecurity agenda — such as the network and the partnership between the universities—  in terms of research and development (R&D), commercialization, innovation and training that is shared among the founder institutions.

“With this network, we can have a strong positive impact on cybersecurity in Canada. It will enhance the landscape of cybersecurity in terms of R&D, training, and innovation,” Debbabi explained.

“The network is giving us the means to bring together the ecosystem and instead of working in isolation, companies and universities will have the means to strategize, to work together and to define activities in these three areas.”

Photo by Catherine Reynolds

To All The Books I’ve Never Read Before

By Lily Cowper

How Bookstagram made me feel ashamed of my reading habits

Did you get into a new hobby during quarantine? Maybe you started something you’ve always wanted to try but never found the time to? Or maybe you dedicated more time to an already existing passion?

Whether you got into a new hobby or not, you’ve definitely seen your friends flock to social media to boast about their new hobbies. And let’s be real, it probably made you feel like shit if you were just trying to survive.

Now I won’t lie, I got really into reading during the first quarantine. With all my newfound time, it was just so easy to pick up a book and finish it in just a couple of days, something I was never able to do before. My new passion also made me discover the reading community community, Bookstagram, BookTube and BookTok. These are all places where people like me could share their love of reading, get recommendations and share our thoughts on our latest read.

I fell for the cute montages and pictures of perfectly-scattered books on beds made up with white sheets, thinking how books were not just about reading, but also about the aesthetics. Don’t get me wrong, I admire the dedication these accounts have for keeping up with their aesthetic because I know my cheap and unstable IKEA bookcase in the corner of my room will never be that pretty.

After following a few accounts on different platforms, I also loved getting recommendations and seeing my TBR (term used in the community to refer to someone’s “To Be Read”) list growing. However, when normal life started again, going back to work and school meant I did not have the same amount of time to dedicate to reading.,Determined to hold onto this new personality trait, as a reader, I made it my mission to not lose the hobby completely.

This is when my love for Bookstagram, BookTube and BookTok accounts turned on its heels. The algorithm started showing me more and more book content that made me feel ashamed that I couldn’t keep up with the creators I was seeing. Posts like, “All the books I read this month” or, “How I managed to read over 100 books last year” made me feel major imposter syndrome. Was I not reading enough to be a part of this community?

Reading for me can be a daunting task. I have trouble focusing, and sometimes need to read one sentence, paragraph or even page, over and over again in order to make sure I understood what I just read.

Being proud of myself for reading a book in one week became an underachievement when I’d open social media and see someone I admire had read three in the same amount of time. I realized the community puts a bigger emphasis on quantity than I originally thought, which made me feel like it didn’t matter what I read, just how much I read. The amount of time I would spend curating my library and TBR to fit my interests and topics I wanted to educate myself on felt like a waste. My 20 books in a year record now looked substandard and like it definitely didn’t necessitate a celebratory Instagram post.

Although I know that this is not the message these Bookstagrammers and BookTubers are pushing, comparison is inevitable. Not meeting the same book count as your favorite content creator makes you feel like you’re not doing it right.

Instead, I’m going to try focusing on what I get out of reading, instead of how many books I read — that is still a challenge. After all, I read a lot of non-fiction books about social issues with challenging and hard to digest content. Why read a lot of books if I cannot take the time to appreciate my growth and learning?

I might not read over 100 books a year, and my bookcase might not be filled with aesthetically pleasing covers, but I would never trade that for what I currently get out of reading.

 

Graphic by Lily Cowper

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Opinions Student Life

In-person learning? Not for everybody

Concordia University's Sir George Williams Campus. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian

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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Opinions

What the hell is an NFT?

The next digital revolution — let’s break it down for you.

Chances are you’re feeling the same way your grandparents did when the internet blew up in the ’90s and, rest assured, you’re not alone.

Las year , you saw Mark Zuckerberg host a weird video about a game-like reality. Now, your friends are making thousands of dollars on some alien planet they call the “Metaverse.”

What kind of witchcraft is going on here? Let me break it down for you.

 

NFTs explained

An NFT, or “non-fungible token” is a digital asset that’s been around for quite a while now. In plain English, that basically means that it’s entirely unique and irreplaceable… kind of like the original Mona Lisa — just digital.

Think of it as a form of virtual art, whether it’s music, a drawing, a Gucci-themed ghost, or a picture of your cat. Wait, I can make money off my cat? We’ll get into that in a second.

So how exactly do NFTs work? It all started with Ethereum, the first blockchain to support these tokens. To oversimplify: a blockchain is a digital ledger that records and distributes all transactions across an entire network of computer systems, making it virtually impossible to be manipulated.

Ethereum’s blockchain, unlike Bitcoin and Dogecoin, is designed to support NFTs by storing additional bits of information. Attaching metadata (details like name, description, image and a link), along with a transaction log, to each token provides investors, artists, and collectors an additional layer of authenticity and value to their assets.

When crypto-mania exploded and gained support from high-profile celebrities such as Paris Hilton, Gen Z masses were quick to hop on the trend. In fact, Chain Analysis, a data platform providing research findings, estimates that the NFT market reached $41 billion (yes, with a “b”) in 2021.

Unsurprisingly, a number of other NFT-supported blockchains have since emerged like Flow and Tezos, each trying to capture their share of the market.

 

The Metaverse explained

So, you just bought Beeple’s artwork for $69 million and want to show it off. There’s only one problem – it’s not a physical object. Did you really just waste $69 million? No need to panic, the tech gods have got us covered.

Simple, just buy land in Decentraland – one of many virtual land platforms – build a museum, hang up your most prized possessions on the wall and invite others to visit. Problem solved.

Welcome to the Metaverse.

A virtual or augmented reality where you can do everything you do in the real world — okay, maybe more. Your avatar (fancy way of saying your fictional character) can buy clothes, cars, houses and can go to work, just like you do in real life. Here’s the catch: those virtual goods cost real money.

If you’re thinking this might just be a phase, have a look at world-renowned brands who are diving into NFTs like Coca-Cola, Taco Bell, Balenciaga, Gucci, Ray-Ban… the list goes on. They can now sell their products for real money, while avoiding rising costs along with the entire manufacturing and supply-chain process. No wonder big corporations are hopping on the crazy train.

 

I just want to know how I can make money off my cat

Well, it’s certainly not impossible. A proud pet owner recently sold a picture of their grumpy cat as an NFT for $83,000. Shortly after, a meme of a dog, commonly known as Doge, was auctioned for $4 million. The best part is that the process is pretty straightforward once you got your digital wallet set up: you simply select an NFT marketplace like OpenSea, upload your file along with important details, and let the buyers bid away.

Oh, and it gets better. A CNBC report just announced that real estate sales in the Metaverse hit $500 million in 2021. Let that sink in – digital land and buildings… in an imaginary world… are now worth more than Beyonce’s entire career. Yes, the world has completely lost its mind. Or perhaps not.

It seems the Metaverse, along with NFTs, has given birth to a different form of investment. Similar to stocks, investors are buying tokens with the expectation that their value will appreciate and that they’ll be able to re-sell them for a profit. Of course, this is the lowest level of NFT involvement and requires nothing but a digital wallet and a couple hundred dollars (maybe more than a couple).

So, the big question remains: is this a bubble? Perhaps, but one thing is sure, there is money to be made until it bursts.

 

Graphics by James Fay

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Opinions

The death of an important Canadian white of passage?

There’s snow way Canadian childhood will be the same without snow days.

I’m in elementary school. All day I’ve heard whispers from the adults that tomorrow there might be a huge snowstorm.

My exhilaration is palpable. In class, I dream about traipsing through deep snow and making maple syrup taffy in the backyard, leaving the stresses of the third grade behind for a day.

As I got older, I even heard rumours of a ‘SnowDayPredictor’ that some would refresh frantically and announce the odds to their peers.

Before I go to sleep, I stare out my window, willing the snow to fall in copious amounts, silencing the city with a thick white blanket.

The next morning, I’m too wired with excitement. I wake up early and glance outside. Sure enough, the snow has piled up to at least knee height, and my mom urges me to go back to sleep — school is cancelled. It’s a snow day!

As a born-and-raised Montrealer, snow days are an integral part of my fondest winter memories. There’s nothing like waking up and realizing you have the day off to spend outside, frolicking in fluffy powder and cozying up with a warm hot chocolate when you come back inside (or spending the entire day inside, staying warm!).

But with new possibilities for online school thanks to the pandemic, are my beloved snow days a thing of the past? On the Jan. 16 snow day, 10 Montreal schools opted for Zoom learning instead of giving students the day off to enjoy the winter wonderland.

It’s ridiculous. Blasphemy. Absurdity.

I firmly believe that snow days should remain in practice in spite of the option to hold school online when excessive snow makes travelling to school difficult.

In addition to the pure fun and the creation of core memories that snow days bring, taking a spontaneous day off school does wonders for one’s mental health.

In our often-too-busy lives, snow days offer us the time to relax, recharge, and enjoy our surroundings, without having to feel guilty for missing out on being productive.

“Where I come from, some days it’s like 40 degrees,” said Concordia student Zina Chouaibi. She grew up in Algeria and moved to Montreal at age 11. “We [didn’t] take days off. Even if the sun [was] burning,” she explained, noting that her first snow day here was quite a shock, but very exciting.

Still, Chouaibi sees the benefit in snow days, particularly for younger people. “My sister does a lot of Zooms now. And it’s sad because she [spends] most of the time now inside rather than outside.”

A 2020 study from the International Journal of Behavioral Nutrition and Physical Activity found that only 4.8 per cent of children and 0.6 per cent of the youth surveyed were meeting movement behaviour guidelines during COVID-19 restrictions. More than ever, children can use time away from their screens to enjoy the outdoors, making the need for snow days even more apparent.

Taking these much-needed breaks isn’t only necessary for kids and teenagers — these so-called “mental health days” reduce burnout in adults as well.

That being said, even if snow days become obsolete, I’ve been known to create my own. When there’s a decent snowfall in the Laurentians or the Eastern Townships, I suddenly fall ill with mogulitis, a near deadly self-coined disease that can only be cured by playing hooky and driving to the mountains for a day of skiing.

But mogulitis isn’t really about skiing, it’s more about reconnecting with nature, taking time for myself, and appreciating the beauty of Canadian winter (before it turns to brown slush). So even if snow days become a thing of the past, I urge you to fall back on mogulitis — but hopefully it won’t come to that.

 

Archive Picture from Talia Kliot

Categories
Opinions

What makes Molotov cocktails on a weekday night worthy for a journalist?

In the pursuit of finding the answer to journalistic woes, I was reminded why I am here

Patricia Mukhim, an investigative journalist and the editor of The Shillong Times was greeted with a gasoline-filled Molotov cocktail at her house on April 17, 2018 in Meghalaya, India. She had been reporting on illegal limestone mining in the northeastern hilly state with a fragile ecosystem.

Raman Kashyap, a freelance investigative journalist at Sadhana TV, Uttar Pradesh, India, was at first declared missing and later found dead on Oct. 4, 2021. He was covering the ongoing farmer protests where a vehicle of an official allegedly ran over protesters.

I could have brushed these examples off as anomalies in the vast profession that is journalism. But the stats didn’t support me either. In Reporters Without Borders’s 2021 World Press Freedom Index that ranks nations according to their press freedom and safe reporting laws, India ranked 142 among 180 countries. This calls out a crisis in Indian journalism, the very crisis I decided to be a part of.

These events and stats made it really hard for me to convince my dad to fund my journalistic interests. Like any Indian father, he too was religiously following the loud news debates, atrocious insensitive headlines, clickbait thumbnails and shameful coverage of what is now merely labelled news. He politely asked me to choose something else to pursue.

When I first shared my intentions to still pursue journalism, the immediate response was a shocking “Why?” followed by a big “No.” My loved ones were worried about my safety — and it was a valid fear. They knew I would be too ambitious to cover a mere puff piece instead of a scandal. Thankfully, I convinced them.

Once travel restrictions around the world were lifted, I flew thousands of kilometres from Hyderabad, India to Montreal to study journalism. I hoped that it would give me a global perspective on the respected profession.

Soon after arriving, I luckily came across an investigative article by Ricochet Media, which reported on police brutality in Montreal against student journalists during a protest. The Canadian Association of Journalists also published a press release condemning multiple attacks on journalists and reporters covering protests in Montreal and Quebec City. They requested police to take action against the attackers.

What I learned from instances like this is that the world views journalists and our profession as something to be restricted, disrespected, and controlled with an iron hand no matter the continent.

Why do these journalists keep going back to the field, back to their newsrooms, back to reporting and investigating just to be shoved around, arrested and even killed? Why am I still here writing for newspapers and looking for events to report on? It is because journalism is a powerful profession — one that I want to be a part of.

My presence as a media person suddenly made people around me self-aware of what they said and did. That was something to take pride in. It’s crazy to think that I, a student journalist who just started her classes, am already making people nervous. It was this power of journalism that still drives me and convinced my loved ones to support me.

Journalism is founded on the efforts made to seek the truth, and I believe that the profession derives its power from this truth.

Truth-seeking is also one of the founding pillars of freedom of the press. In the same way, the makers of the Indian Constitution included freedom of speech and expression as some of the fundamental rights for its citizens, with a few press or media exceptions.

But where do we draw the line in our reporting, when it doesn’t guarantee complete truth?

Some journalists get hit with death threats and “sedition” cases for digging deep or getting closer to a hidden truth. However, those who spread and propagate falsified truths remain unaffected.

The reason behind those who benefit from fabricating truth being unharmed is complex. When the truth is being weaponized, fabricated and projected from behind a shroud of imagined righteousness, those holding the weapon are not harmed, nor those who fixed the targets. I could be at the right place trying to debunk false news at the wrong time and become an easy target in this chaos. Now, I understand the collective concern and worry my friends and family had for me and my professional choices.

In the wake of all this, what is journalism fighting for? For the truth that is losing its sanctity? For righteousness that is constantly maligned? For an ultimate value that can never be achieved? No. Journalism fights for change.

Mukhim’s reporting moved the local government to make amendments to licensing limestone mining. This was a partial win as the illegal and environmentally harmful extraction of the locally abundant material hasn’t stopped. But neither will she.

Efforts of journalists like Kashyap, along with many local farmers, enabled change. They covered different angles of the farming laws, collected reasons for the dissent, debunked fake rumours for over a year, and finally led the government to annul the new farming laws.

Hope that change can be achieved, even in part, pushes journalists to keep going against the odds. It inspires young journalists like me to take up this profession so that in every article I write, I am able to push the wheel of change, one millimetre at a time.

It is great to witness journalism striving for noticeable changes and generating value for itself by overcoming the negative effects of the actions of some of its own, seeking truth, and hopefully being safe to practice. Until then, cheers to Molotov cocktails on weekday nights.

 

Photo by Christine Beaudoin

Categories
Student Life

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

Categories
Student Life

A new way of recycling coffee bean packaging

A recycling project by Ethical Beans and TerraCycle mends the gap in the recycling industry one step at a time

Coffee is not just a drink, it’s a culture, a community, a lifestyle.

And like any lifestyle, you can buy swag. Certain key items you can acquire to help prove to others you aren’t a poser.

The entry-level includes single-use take-out coffee cups, a small drip coffee machine, a French press or a stovetop Italian espresso maker. You can upgrade to a reusable cup, a nice espresso machine at home, and the barista at your local coffee place knowing your name and/or order. And finally, you can call yourself a full-on coffee snob if you buy your own beans.

The highest level of coffee swag — walking home with an aesthetically pleasing bag of coffee beans that cost you between $20 to $30.

In Montreal, there are many different coffee beans you can buy, from Cantook to Café Rico, with distinct flavour profiles. But no matter where you get your beans from, the bags go into the trash and onto the landfill. NO MORE! There is now another solution to help make your morning routine more green.

Ethical Bean, a coffee company established in Vancouver, has partnered with TerraCycle, a global recycling solution conglomerate, to create a new recycling project key to helping the coffee consumer grow greener.

If you haven’t heard of TerraCycle yet, let me have the honour of introducing you. The company’s mission statement is to “eliminate the idea of waste.” It recycles materials in products and reshapes them for reuse. For example, melting down a bunch of plastic single-use packaging to make a new park bench.

Together, they have created a new recycling program that allows consumers of a hot cup a’ joe to participate. All you have to do is sign up for free, fill up any cardboard box lying around with coffee bean bags (perhaps a past Amazon order?), print the free shipping label and off the pretty coffee packaging goes to become something new!

In a city like Montreal, where one in every five people you see is a coffee snob, how will the community engage with this type of program? Will the endless array of coffee shops start recycling their packaging too?

Léa Normandin, an employee at Café Le Loup Bleu, one of Montreal’s “third-wave” coffee locals, is a self-appointed coffee snob. Her qualifications include spending over $20 on coffee beans.

She describes a coffee snob as someone who enjoys their coffee, for whom it isn’t just a drink you have in the morning, it’s the best part of your morning. She said, “Overall, someone who considers coffee as more than just their morning pick-me-up… like myself.”

Normandin sees first hand the kind of waste coffee shops and coffee consumers can create, like “coffee packaging, single-use plastic or cardboard cups when you go out to get coffee, […] not to mention all the waste we create when choosing what goes into our coffee, such as sugar packets, cream [containers], straws, etc.”

Excited at the prospect of new recycling possibilities, Normandin will eagerly take part in the new recycling initiative. The only thing left to do is get the city on board!

 

Graphics by James Fay

Categories
Opinions Student Life

Is it really that rewarding to be a winter athlete?

Laurie-Anne Palin/The Concordian

The real motivation behind going out in the cold

There are many ways to enjoy the outdoors during wintertime.

Of course, it all depends on the climate that you live in. How cold does it get? Do you have snow, ice? Or is it more of a mild winter temperature, where you get the occasional snow, but wearing heavy-duty winter gear isn’t a necessity to get your groceries?

Either way, there’s a lot you can do.

But is being outside in freezing cold weather really what our hearts desire? Or are we just trying to fit into the wishful image of a winter-loving well-rounded human being?

Most of us hate winter — it is a time reserved for the holidays, followed by a three-month hibernation. Maybe you’ll go outside once a day for a smoke, or perhaps a cup of coffee, but most of us make use of the extra dark hours of the day to binge-watch our favourite TV shows and eat lasagna.

Say you do want to go outside; what do you want to do? It all depends on access. In Montreal, it’s possible the best you can do is the Mont-Royal — not a bad spot. You see, when you live in the city, getting out to the wilderness to breathe fresh air and fall into fresh powdery snow is difficult, and a lot of the time expensive.

First, you gotta get out of town. Unless you have a car, you have to take a bus or a shuttle, but the bus may drop you off at a random gas station on the side of the highway. Nice.

Next, you need equipment. Whether you want to do alpine skiing, cross-country, or just some snowshoeing, you either need to carry it with you all the way to your destination, or you need to rent — expect to spend $40-50 per person. Finally, you need to make sure you have a suitable backpack to carry your food, extra layers, and water bottle, and don’t forget a good winter jacket on top of a breathable base layer of clothing.

Just writing all that down was exhausting.

But new sports and new ways to explore the outdoors keep popping up, and apparently, there is some real interest in winter sports.

Recently, a faction of alpine skiers is reigniting the interest in an old sport with its debut tied to medieval Norwegian traditions: alpine touring.

Now, strap on spikey “skins” to the back of your skis, and invest a couple thousand dollars on a new pair of “walking ski boots” (some claim they are comfortable, I have a hard time believing that), and climb up any mountain you desire!

Not exactly, but you get the idea.

In all honesty, I think I am just jealous of those who have the means and the time to invest themselves in outdoor sports like these. Right now, all I crave is to witness the silence of a snow-covered forest, and the void of a mountain valley.

But, you know, whatever. I’ll just keep being bitter from the comfort of my home, wasting away looking out of my window into the world, instead of living in it.

 

Photo by Laurie-Anne Palin

Categories
News

Protesters Gather to Support Egyptian Families Seeking Asylum

Protesters rally outside the Prime Minister’s constituency office to voice their displeasure regarding the refusal of five Egyptian families seeking asylum in Canada

Across Canada several groups protested Vancouver’s Canadian Border Service Agency’s (CBSA) refusal to grant five Muslim Egyptian families refugee status in Canada, due to allegations that they were associated with a political party connected to the Muslim Brotherhood.

 Dozens of people protested outside Justin Trudeau’s constituency office in Montreal on Jan. 29, along with groups in Vancouver, Toronto, and Ottawa, to voice their opposition of the CBSA in Vancouver for placing these families in a precarious situation, especially if deported back to Egypt.

In 2017, CBSA officers in Vancouver terminated the process of an Egyptian seeking asylum. Though he filed a refugee claim stating he was a member of the Freedom and Justice Party during the 2011 revolution in Egypt, he was deemed inadmissible due to the political party’s association with the Muslim Brotherhood despite the group not being listed under Canada’s list of terrorist entities. The Muslim Brotherhood had a following of over 2 million people and were one of the biggest oppositions to the Egyptian government in 2011.

 Mohamed Kamel, one of the organizers of the event, said all CBSA offices but one accepted refugees with the same allegations. 

“How can CBSA [in] Vancouver decide to take actions on their own? This is something nobody can understand!” Kamel said.

“We have hundreds of people who have been accepted. Only the CBSA office in Vancouver decided to favour the claim of the Egyptian government.”  

 According to protesters, CBSA in Vancouver has not provided any proof to support the allegations towards the individuals, and rather, refused admissibility based on the alleged association with the Muslim Brotherhood. Though two families have gone public, none of the five families knew each other before the refusal from the agency.

 Protesters and family members are now alleging CBSA Vancouver was acting in bias and islamophobic way, in a press release, stating that “the CBSA’s evidence is sourced from the current Government of Egypt, and right-wing institutions that have exhibited a patterned anti-Arab and Islamophobic bias.”

 “We now fear the actions of the CBSA could have the same impact and build on Islamophobia […] as a part of a government agency doing what they’ve done — they’re creating a new level of systemic discrimination,” Kamel said.

The protest coincided with the five-year anniversary of the Quebec City mosque shooting. They want the Minister of Public Safety to intervene in not only helping the refused families but to also recognize the racism and Islamophobia within the CBSA. 

“That’s why we’re here today, to call on the minister to take action. He just has to issue the CBSA to follow the Canadian government terrorism list,” said Kamel.

 

Photo by Gabriel Guindi

Omicron FOMO sweeps the nation

Why are healthy Concordians embarrassed?

At the beginning of the pandemic, whispers about who had COVID were shrouded in a cloud of shame. Those who contracted the virus were blamed for not following the precautions properly and not behaving the way an upstanding citizen should.

Now two years later, with the emergence of the highly contagious Omicron variant, the cloud of shame seems to rain on those who have a sickness that’s even worse — Omicron FOMO (fear of missing out).

“In March 2020, it was only the reckless, cool kids getting it,” said a COVID-less Concordia student who wished to stay anonymous out of embarrassment. “But now, it’s everyone. Even my dentist has had it. At this point, my mom is seriously worried about my social life.”

The student explained that her mother has had all three variants, all secured from three separate trips to Florida, and is pushing her offspring to run rampant and maskless through the swamplands to finally catch the damn virus. The student is considering this option, but has also heard that licking every metro pole on the Green Line proves more cost-effective on a student budget.

This is not a single-case phenomenon; another Concordian, who also requested anonymity — citing fear of not seeming cool enough to get a job in accounting — noted that they feel like they’re missing a part of history by still not having caught COVID.

“Honestly, what I think about is what I’m going to tell my hypothetical kids,” he said, sniffling (with concern, not COVID). “When they ask me what it was like to have the virus, I’ll be the lame dad who won’t be able to tell them. They’ll probably put themselves up for adoption.”

He was also concerned about not knowing how to converse with peers. “All everyone talks about these days is COVID. How can I relate to everyone if I haven’t had it?”

He explained that he’s tried everything to catch the virus, including living in his COVID-positive friend’s closet during her isolation period. Alas, his PCRs have all come up negative. “It feels like I’m a hopeful mother waiting for a positive pregnancy test.”

Quarantina Jab, a Concordian who explicitly demanded to be named, is part of the minority who is still avoiding Omicron. Jab said that she does not want to get sick for the sole reason of fulfilling her dream of holding the world record for not getting COVID for the longest amount of time. “I’ve actually been living in isolation since I was born. I hopped out of the womb and got my own apartment, where I’ve been living ever since,” she said.

Jab seems to be the only person who shares this sentiment according to a survey conducted on the now-obsolete MyConcordia portal.

Still, those who have yet to catch Omicron need not fear. With humanity’s luck, there will be another, even more contagious variant in approximately three months to sweep you off your feet and cure your FOMO.

 

Graphics by James Fay

Categories
Student Life

Omicron — COVID’s dreaded fifth wave

Four students reflect on how they experienced the Omicron breakout from home

By: Juliette Palin, commentary editor; Evan Lindsay, news editor; Talia Kliot, assistant commentary editor; Amanda Defillo, contributor

 

Juliette’s version 

The day I left for Budapest, mandatory PCR testing was just being re-implemented for travellers on any Air Canada flight. No snow had managed to stick to the ground longer than 72 hours, and Omicron was just starting to bear its gruesome teeth. Once we got to Budapest, and the jetlag started to wear off, my sister and I got wind of the chaotic state Montreal was in: no available rapid tests, serpentine lines outside testing centers, and the familiar sight of cases rising, with one main difference. Never before had we seen such high case numbers in Quebec. One day it was five thousand… then twelve thousand… eighteen thousand…

My sister and I watched in terror from Budapest, where the fourth wave of Delta was dying out and Omicron was a looming threat. We went to the scenic city to visit our parents but had we known how fast the situation would deteriorate, I don’t believe we would have gone.

While we saw every Quebecer and Canadian become confined to lockdowns, and spending holidays alone — my own family catching COVID, and being unable to reunite for the holidays — our situation was different. We had no problem getting tested (which we did a total of five times) and everyone around us had already acquired a booster shot. Our only real issue was explaining why our vaccine passports wouldn’t scan, since they were not registered in any European database.

In Hungary, people were unbothered, lazy with their masks, aloof to what was happening all over the world, or even just a day’s drive away in France or Austria. Needless to say, it was difficult to face two alternate realities every day: that of the fifth wave back home, and an eerie sense that I was looking at the past — a city full of people still enjoying the normality of unregulated life.

 

Talia’s version

The Omicron outbreak in Montreal was frustrating. I was lucky enough to spend it skiing, reading, watching movies, and going for walks with my family. While we were safe and healthy, it was annoying to see that even with COVID case numbers spiralling out of control, hours-long testing lines in the cold, and rapid test shortages, restrictions to help relieve healthcare professionals were only put in place after Christmas. But of course, Quebec is a secular province, duh.

When the government brought back our beloved curfew and shut down restaurant dining rooms, it was right before New Year’s Eve. Many restaurants had already ordered all their food, not only creating waste but causing many to lose much-needed income.

On one hand, I’m sick of all the restrictions and want to live my life again. I missed a Taylor Swift dance party because of this stupid outbreak! But, I know that we need to offer some relief to the healthcare system, which is crumbling as many workers get sick and are unable to come in. It also feels like everyone I know has or has had COVID, so I guess it’s just a matter of time before it comes for me. Wish me luck…

 

Evan’s version

The longer that this pandemic drags on the more I wish that I could say it was somewhat exciting. To think that 40 years from now someone might ask me what it was like to live through a global health emergency… I wish that I would have some more dramatic stories to tell them. Unfortunately, the reality is that this holiday season was spent much like the last, trapped in my house with my family.

I’m grateful to have the opportunity to spend time with my family in Victoria. But if it wasn’t the spike in BC COVID cases keeping me inside, it was the snow. People from Victoria tend to refer to the southern part Vancouver Island as the “tropics of Canada,” which is to say that snow is rare — and when it happens, insignificant. Instead of blizzards, we get massive amounts of rain. This year the snow was neither rare nor insignificant.

Unable to drive due to the snow and a lack of winter tires, I wasn’t able to escape my family home as much as I may have liked. Again, this did yield some positive results: being unable to leave meant more quality time with my family, and kept me from rubbing elbows with potentially COVID-riddled Victorians.

My home is typically very busy during the holidays with out-of-town relatives coming in and constant baking, cooking and the occasional extra glass or three of wine. Despite the pandemic, many of these holiday traditions remained intact. On both sides of the family, my grandparents were unable to travel back to Canada from their vacation homes in the states. My dad’s parents stayed in Palm Springs and my mom’s dad from Seattle stayed in Arizona. More wine for the immediate family I guess?

Restaurants, bars and movie theatres in BC stayed open if you had a vaccine passport, but gyms closed (a popular topic of debate and internet outrage among many of my friends). I was able to take advantage of all our open amenities without much trouble, other than a few people scowling at me for showing a Quebec vaccine passport, and a small argument with my dad about whether it was safe to see Spider-Man: No Way Home (either way, it was worth it. Great movie).

Despite spiking cases in BC, most of my attention and anxiety was directed towards Montreal, knowing in just a few weeks, I would be back in time for a second curfew and record-breaking case numbers.

 

Amanda’s version

When the news about Omicron broke, I remember lying in my bed and receiving a call from my mom. At the time, she was overtaken with panic. She went on and on about how I needed to get back home immediately and told me I should start packing.

I’m from the Dominican Republic, studying as an international student in Canada. I just remember feeling scared that I, along with everyone else in Montreal, would have to go back into lockdown, unable to go back to university for an undetermined amount of time… Once again, I felt as if my life was being uprooted and it’s just not a fun experience.

Probably not even three days later, maybe even sooner, my parents had already bought me a ticket to go back home at the end of that week. Sitting on the plane, I thought to myself, “this can’t be happening, again?”

When I finally got back home things were okay for a while. A little bit better than Montreal, where everything was going to hell, but it didn’t take long for things to quickly go downhill here too. COVID’s fifth wave in DR coincided with an outbreak of influenza. People were getting sick left and right especially during the holidays, with rumours of full hospitals crowding every conversation. Things eventually started to calm down but still, a lot of people around me were getting sick either with COVID or with influenza. It just all felt very intense.

 

Visuals by Cathrine Reynolds

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