Tag: canada

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

Shaping the war in Afghanistan

Homes lining Koh-e Asamai mountain, commonly referred to as "TV Mountain", Kabul, Afghanistan. KATHLEEN GANNON/THE CONCORDIAN

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
News

Record-high gas prices strike Montreal: a new reality for drivers

Some Concordia students now consider leaving their car at home

Montreal gas prices have reached an all-time high, costing drivers up to $1.58 per litre. As the demand for driving has grown in the past few months, along with increases in crude oil prices, the gradual return to normalcy has entailed more expensive gasoline.

On Jan. 1, one barrel of Western Canadian Select (WCS) oil cost about $41.70, which then skyrocketed to nearly $76.90 by Nov. 5 — representing an 84.4 per cent increase in less than one year. However, Moshe Lander, a senior lecturer of economics at Concordia University, told The Concordian that crude oil prices are not the only factor influencing this spike.

Moshe explained that, as global transportation continues to resume, the shipping and aviation industries are competing with Canadian drivers for the same resources and thus overall demand for gasoline has increased. In Quebec, there are additional oil transportation costs because gasoline is not produced locally, on top of the price of oil refining and federal and provincial taxes.

However, Lander noted that one should look at the bigger picture, and compare the situation with pre-pandemic prices instead.

“The fact is, gas prices have barely gone up at all. Pre-pandemic, gas was around $1.40 or $1.45 in most gas stations around Montreal. So add a couple years, inflationary pressures — it’s perfectly reasonable,” said Lander. “But if you’re comparing it to lockdowns, with no one going to work […] while gas was priced at $1 or less — this looks jarring.”

Nevertheless, current gasoline prices pose financial challenges for some Concordia students, who are used to driving to the Loyola campus on a regular basis. For Ora Bar, a third-year journalism student, driving is a necessity since she commutes to and from Chateauguay four times a week.

“Last time I had to refuel, it hurt,” said Bar. “I am now considering switching to buses, though it’d take me three times as long to get to university. This would create lots of anxiety for me since I’d have to leave very early to avoid being late.”

Bar estimates that her 20-kilometre commute from the South Shore would take up to one hour and 30 minutes. The five-dollar transit ride involves several transfers which Bar is afraid to miss due to low frequency on certain routes.

“We’re still students, it is expensive! I certainly hope the government considers more practical bus schedules and reduced fares,” Bar explained, saying that she is hoping to find a more affordable alternative to driving in November.

Meanwhile, Gabriela Serrano, a third-year neuroscience student at Concordia, has already decided to leave her vehicle at home for the foreseeable future.

“Because of the price increase, I can no longer drive to Loyola every single day. I realized that taking public transit is cheaper, coming from the downtown area,” she said. “But it was more convenient to drive than to take one bus, the metro, and then another bus — my commute to NDG is a bit more complex now.”

Serrano hopes the government will take action to avoid a surge in gas prices. “The pandemic was already a heavy burden for our economic situation, and now with simple things like driving to work becoming more expensive, it’s another stress,” she explained.

Gasoline, however, is already being heavily subsidized by the Canadian government. Last year, the country’s oil and gas sector received $18 billion in government financial support. In fact, Lander suggests that rising gas prices may lead to a turning point in North American car culture.

“That is a century in the past, we’re moving forward now. We have to price gasoline properly, […] at $5 a litre. As long as you continue to subsidize gas-fuelled automobiles, it’s making things worse — and it’s the hardest part for the consumer to understand,” he added.

Shifting such subsidies toward eco-friendly initiatives would help the city combat climate change. According to Lander, this would result in creating more pedestrian-friendly streets and cycling paths, limit Montreal’s urban sprawl, and make more funds available for efficient public transit.

The economist believes high petrol prices would push Montrealers to adopt electric vehicles at a faster rate. As fuel combustion makes the transportation industry responsible for 24 per cent of global CO2 emissions, rising gas prices could cause a shift towards a greener future, one driver at a time.

 

Photographs by Kaitlynn Rodney

Categories
Features

Why banking sucks here

Why does Quebec make us choose a bank based on which one sucks the least?

Upon meeting a new friend, one might be asked their astrology sign, how many siblings they have, or what they do for a living. It helps us get a sense of who a person is. What might be most telling, for Quebecers, is to ask which bank they use.

The Big Five make up most of the Canadian market share, so chances are, your new friend banks with one of the following: Royal Bank of Canada (RBC), Toronto-Dominion Bank (TD), Scotiabank, Bank of Montreal (BMO), or Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce (CIBC).

Thanks to extensive mergers over the past few decades, these banks have become about as big as government institutions themselves. An international banking regulator called the Financial Stability Board determines which banks are global systemically important banks (referred to as G-SIBs, and domestically as D-SIBs). As of 2020, TD and RBC are still on that list, which also includes U.S. banks such as JPMorgan Chase and Goldman Sachs.

Lists like these are based on an economic theory that some banks become “too big to fail” (TBTF), when so much of the population relies on them to remain stable. G-SIBs and other banks the government decides, whether explicitly or implicitly, are TBTF, are regulated to “maintain additional capital buffers” and “discourage banks from becoming even more systemically important,” according to the Bank for International Settlements (BIS). They are also high-profile enough that in an economic recession, or even a forecast of a recession, the government becomes pressured to become their guarantor.

Mo’ Money, Mo’ Problems

Logically, it seems like if a big bank has so much money, it would be the safest place to be during a recession. Sometimes that’s true. The fact that our banks are so large and diversified made them some of the most stable banks in the world, as ranked by Global Finance Magazine in their annual stability report. But sometimes it makes it riskier.

Once big banks get TBTF status, they have virtually unlimited protection from the government. Given they are still businesses trying to make as much money as possible, they are prone to make riskier moves, leading to higher likelihood of more government bailouts.

Don’t like the fact that your tax dollars would be bailing out a company that rakes in a couple billion dollars each quarter? Maybe you do. It’s partially what makes our banks so stable.

Others can’t get down with it. Given the fact that our banks are very stable, most Canadians believe they aren’t in need of government assistance. Many journalistic efforts have been published, including pieces by the Financial Post and the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives. Most of these pieces are merely estimations based on public funding, such as pension funds and individual welfare checks. Some have even cited CERB as an implicit government subsidy for people’s pandemic-related bank struggles.

Employee-led research from the Bank of Canada arguing against TBTF cites that along with increased market power, gaining TBTF status was the driving force behind major bank mergers and the formation of the oligopoly we know and love today. While at the G-SIB level, they are subject to global regulations putting caps on profits, they are more likely to receive implicit support when the economy struggles.

Like any good government organization, our big banks have their flaws. You might wait forever, or be helped pretty unhelpfully. You might wonder why your bank doesn’t give a hoot that you’re funding their business with literally all the money you have.

Bank mergers are a major reason why we pay way more for our banking privileges, compared to the United States. Down south, you can almost universally expect to bank for free, and earn a decent interest on your savings account. That’s due to their more fragmented system, which creates more competition between large and small banks, leading to lower rates. Our Big Five are the result of major mergers of medium-sized banks seeking more market power. They now dominate the Canadian market and charge us the fees to match.

Another downside to the oligopoly is that no matter what, money in your bank account is funding a company that can put money in whatever they choose, regardless of their clients’ politics. As CBC reported earlier this year, RBC is among the top five banks worldwide involved in fossil fuel financing, with over $160 billion lended out between 2016 and 2020. Reasons for not pulling out, if any, would be fear of disrupting the Canadian economy, which is heavily reliant on the fossil fuel industry, according to CBC.

As of November 2021, all Big Five will sign onto a new international agreement, the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero (GFANZ), according to CBC. While the goals of this new agreement include prioritization of “green” investments and lowering emissions of bank clients, signatories of the plan need not to withdraw from ongoing funding projects in the fossil fuel sector. Climate activists have warned the public not to start celebrating until those withdrawals are made.

Finding My Bank Soulmate

Ever tried joining a new bank in Quebec? Maybe you’ve just been with the same one since you were 14, like I had. When I first moved to Canada four years ago, I just went to the one that was closest to me. After three years, I started noticing how much I detested it. Some people do all their banking online, but I’m more high-maintenance than that.

My bank never answered the phone, and when they did they would respond with long scripted responses. At the branch, they looked at me with disgust when I approached their counter, they held my checks for days on end. I didn’t feel wanted.

Since my broke beginnings while growing up in the States, I’ve held an account at a credit union, not a bank. If you’re a true Quebecer, you’ll know it as the “caisse-populaire,” associated with the Desjardins group. Credit union, caisse-populaire, potato, potate. Same thing? You could say so. I’ll share my American experience first.

Close your eyes. Imagine a world just like your own. Maybe a tad warmer. Imagine you call your bank and they pick up right away. Imagine they speak with you like a friend: They ask you about your day, and give you all the platonic intimacy you deserve. Imagine you hang up the phone feeling satisfied and reassured that your request has been diligently honoured.

Imagine your account is free, no matter how much is in it, and when you walk into a branch, at least three individuals await you with a smile, and even if they have filing to be done, you, a member, are their top priority. Open your eyes: that’s what a credit union feels like.

Upon making the decision to leave TD after three years — a bank I highly do not recommend — I looked endlessly for another bank with this level of devotion. Unfortunately, I don’t think it exists in Canada just yet.

When inquiring on what bank is best to turn to, most reddit users recommended Tangerine, one of the only online banks available in Quebec. Formerly known as ING Direct, it has since been acquired by Scotiabank, but still operates as a separate company. Due to the lack of in-person branches, it’s free for everyone, and has some of the best rates for high-interest savings accounts. It seemed like my only option. At the same time, if I did turn to Tangerine, I’d be going from unpleasant, in-person branch visits, to no branch visits at all. Is that what I really wanted?

I quickly realized that what I was looking for was not a bank, but a credit union, just like I had back home. The peak difference between a bank and a credit union is that a bank is for-profit, and a credit union is not-for-profit.

A credit union is like your local co-op grocery store. As a member, you are part owner and participant in the union, in turn taking advantage of low rates and high quality service. A bank is a business set out to make profit and satisfy shareholders —  the reason for usually much higher rates.

Did you ever notice that while a credit union has more of a “you’re one of us” attitude, a bank has more of a “you need us, we don’t need you” attitude? Maybe not. That’s because unlike every other Canadian province, in Quebec, Desjardins is basically just another one of the Big Five. Actually, if you considered it a bank, it would knock CIBC right out of the Big Five club.

Caisses Un-Populaires

Time for the tea you all came for. Let’s talk about credit unions in Quebec: a concept that has a history tied to the very beginning of credit unions in North America.

Desjardins is our one and only caisse-populaire in Quebec, founded in 1901 by a Mr. Alphonse Desjardins as the first credit union in North America. Just seven years later, Desjardins and a group of French-speaking immigrants opened the very first credit union in the United States, which is now home to well over 5,000 of them, as of 2021.

So why is Quebec left with only one? And why does Desjardins play along like they’re just another one of the Big Five?

If you search the term “caisse-populaire” in Wikipedia, you’d be redirected to the Desjardins Group, made up of numerous investment firms, real estate holdings, and brokerages. It’s also the proud owner of many Canadian expansions of U.S. insurance giants such as State Farm (since rebranded to Desjardins Insurance). Does any of that remind you of your friendly neighbourhood gardening collective?

During my search for a new financial soulmate, I actually found exactly what I was looking for. It was a credit union (duh), whom I called and was immediately connected to a friendly customer service woman. The conversation was refreshingly friendly and easy, like talking to an old friend. I felt strongly that this union was the place for me: a perfect match. The representative then explained that membership was not available in Quebec, due to some regulations. She encouraged me to call back in a year, though, to see if the law had changed. A law that possibly hadn’t changed since 1901?

Since I couldn’t find any answer for this online, or an alternative credit union in our province, I nearly gave up. Every article I found was talking about how cool and hip Desjardins was, so I decided to check it out for myself. Maybe I would make this my bank after all.

When I got there, I felt like I was back at TD. The computer was so slow, and after 5 minutes of dial-up style loading speed, I was told I couldn’t get an appointment for another four hours (even though I was the only one there). I knew there was an advisor upstairs holding her breath, because I heard her sneeze right before leaving.

I went back to my trusty sidekick, Google. I suddenly found myself reading words like “…the authority shall establish…” on the Quebec government’s open source website, and discovered nothing further.

It Really is Quebec’s Fault

I spoke with Professor Moshe Lander, a senior lecturer in the Economics Department at Concordia, who has at least 20 years of experience teaching on the subject.

As I quickly discovered, one thing Google can’t explain is the vast, black hole that is the relationship between Quebec’s history and its modern economic regulations. It might be something that goes right over the heads of Quebecers who have never lived anywhere else, and only be a problem for those of us who have migrated from other provinces or countries.

When we ask questions like, “We’re a part of Canada, so why don’t we get what everyone else has?” the answer almost always has something to do with our provincial government.

You see, the Big Five aren’t affected by Quebec laws. Banks are regulated by the federal government. Credit unions, on the other hand, are regulated provincially.

My first assumption was that there was a distinct law mentioning Desjardins as the only credit union allowed to operate in Quebec. In fact, the situation is purely circumstantial.

According to Professor Lander, after 120 years of operation, Desjardins has a monopoly over our province, making it hard for outsider credit unions to gain traction here. “It’s not worth it [for them],” he said.”Tack on all of the language requirements, the different legal system […] getting your foot into Quebec is almost impossible.”

It seems that the province’s unique legal system is what keeps a lot of that cool stuff out. “Just take a look at fast food restaurants,” Lander began. “Swiss Chalet doesn’t exist here. St. Hubert exists here, because the legal system is different. So, in terms of product liability, consumer protection, disclosure requirements… For a privately-held company it’s different.”

Professor Lander said these provincial differences also extend to the banking and financial sector. Credit unions such as Vancity in British Columbia, and motusbank in Ontario, can operate in any other Canadian province, since their legal and regulatory systems are similar, but not in Quebec.

One other reason that this problem might be specific to credit unions is the very fact that they are only as big as their clientbase. Lander said that both the non-Quebec credit unions and Desjardins would not seek to maximize their client-base all across Canada for the same reason. “Because [credit unions] are not a private company that’s looking to maximize shareholder value, [they] are ultimately owned by [their] customers,” he explained.

So, when the operator from the Ontarian credit union I spoke with before said, “if something changes in a year, call us back,” she probably wasn’t talking about a change in Quebec regulations. Most likely, she was talking about a change within their company that would drive them to begin doing business here.

Furthermore, it doesn’t help that Quebec is pretty much a ghost town compared to the United States. Our population is just a fraction of the size. That’s probably why Desjardins doesn’t offer the hottest rates or the hottest service ⏤ with their member numbers being just as low as a mid-size niche credit union in the United States, they can’t afford to offer Quebecers a better rate than any of the Big Five.

As for the lack of choices to overall banking methods in Canada, it’s actually a federal problem. Professor Lander attributes this to both population size and lack of regulations over mergers between banks, unlike the U.S. which regulates inter-state transactions. As for Canada, “Through mergers, [big banks] basically came to swallow up everybody underneath them, and left nothing behind. That sort of concentration hasn’t taken place in the U.S.,” he said.

“Even if you take the biggest banks in the U.S., [such as] Bank of America, they don’t add up to 95 per cent of the deposits or mortgages and loans. It’s a much more fragmented system,” he said. That also explains why Desjardins became a monopoly across the province, which was once home to many small, local credit unions.

As it turns out, you can assume that it’s all loosely attributed to the war between the French and the English that took place 350 years ago. That’s what makes us special. As Professor Lander noted, “It drives a huge amount of product law and business law and these oddities that just don’t exist elsewhere in North America.”

It seems things won’t change until the nicer credit unions take a leap of faith across provincial borders, or our government does a major ego-check. For now, we’ll have to choose between the bank that sucks the least, or keeping the cash under the mattress.

 

 

Visuals by Lily Cowper

Categories
Features

Parlez-vous français? Concordia students reflect on the potential outcomes of Bill 96

How Bill 96 is sparking a fiery debate in the city of Montreal

The November municipal elections are fast approaching and, more than ever, young people are motivated to vote in response to the effects of life during the pandemic. After a year stuck indoors, forced to take classes online, worried about future employment prospects, Montreal’s younger demographic is also now faced with a choice: do they stay or do they go?

Bill 96 is a reform proposed by the Quebec government in which the Canadian Constitution will recognize the province as a nation, with French as its official language. The reform is expected to include over 200 amendments, equipped with the primary goal of strengthening the status of the French language in Quebec.

Roxanne Tesar, a 22-year-old biochemistry student at Concordia, was born and raised in Montreal. She said that her knowledge of French remains limited, making her part of the population who will be most affected by the bill, if it comes to fruition. “French is not the only language here, we are bilingual. So if we start introducing bills that don’t reflect the population’s interests, conflict will arise,” said Tesar.

In Montreal, just over 65 per cent of the population’s mother tongue is French. So, why is this bill so pressing, given that French is the dominant language?

According to a 2019 study made by the Office québécois de la langue française (OQLF), workplace usage of the French language has dropped from 60 to 56 per cent since 2015. Workers aged 18 to 34 were those most prominently reflected in this data.

“It’s all about respect […] by creating this bill, the French language will be validated and francophones will feel heard,” says Sruthi Matta, 26, a journalism student at Concordia from India.

Omar Kanjou Agha, a 20-year-old mechanical engineering student from Syria, thinks some parts of the bill are positive, such as the offer of financial aid for studying the French language. He still thinks there are downsides.

“Capping the amount of places in anglophone schools completely violates fundamental rights and freedoms that Quebecers enjoy,” he said. “The bill wants to protect the French language, but they are doing it in ways that I don’t support and that I feel are illegal.”

These feelings of injustice are shared by several Concordia students. Kailee Reid, 18, a liberal arts student at Concordia, remembers the anxiety she felt during her first weeks in Montreal, after moving from Toronto. “When I first came here, I was so nervous to check out at a store,” she said. “I didn’t know how to manoeuvre around the city, not knowing who speaks English and who speaks French. It was quite isolating.”

Despite apprehensions and fears of not being understood or excluded from the city, Montreal still welcomes thousands of international students every year. Nearly 35,000 foreign students studied in the city in 2015.

“My first impression of Montreal was that it was very welcoming and diverse, so when I heard about this law I became very worried,” said Olenka Yuen, a 21-year-old computational arts student at Concordia, when asked about her thoughts on the city.

Agha also shared Yuen’s concerns. “I see Montreal as a multiethnic diverse city and this bill is trying to eliminate these components,” he said. “This worries me because I am part of the minority.”

International students, many of whom fall into the minority of non-french speakers, now face uncertainty in the job market after completing their studies in university. If Bill 96 becomes official, many employers would be faced with tougher hiring policies and many students who do not have a proficient level of French would be excluded. The Bill would implement a limit on the number of places at English schools and a limit on the amount of English-speaking jobs, making life for the non-french-speaking minority harder than it already is.

“I’ve been worried about jobs before this bill was even introduced,” said Tesar.

Saddened by the possibility of being excluded from Montreal life due to her limited French-speaking abilities, Tesar feels that she has no choice but to consider other living options. “This is a good reason for me to move to another province because it’s unfair.”

“I am worried as an anglophone about finding a job as I have in the past and this bill would only make it harder,” said Agha. He has worked part-time as a delivery driver, because he says that it’s one of the only jobs that does not require employees to speak French.

However, it isn’t just the non-francophone speakers who recognize the constraints Bill 96 would create for Montrealers. Delphine Belzile, a 23-year-old francophone journalism student at Concordia, acknowledges the fear that the bill has instilled in young non-francophones living in city.

“I don’t worry about my prospects of jobs, but I worry for other people who are non-francophone because I’m worried about how the government will handle the transition if the bill comes into effect,” said Belzile.

“You can’t ask a whole population to suddenly speak French,” she continued. “You need to account for a plan and make the language free and accessible to learn for all, or else you’re discriminating against non-French speakers.”

Another francophone student at Concordia from Montreal, Véronique Morin, 23, appreciates that she’s been able to attend an English-speaking university in a predominantly French-speaking city. “I am grateful to be able to study in English because for me, it has broadened my perspectives and allowed me to become more diversified,” she said. “But French is more threatened in Montreal than in Quebec.”

Morin further explained that when interacting in shops, she’s more likely to speak English than French to guarantee she is understood.

“As a francophone, we need to protect the French language and make it a real official language with laws that encourage people to speak and share it,” said Morin. “[But if] someone is working to get to know the language or making the effort to learn it, for me, that’s enough.”

Many non-French-speaking Concordia students do not refute the notion of French being a language in need of protection. In fact, several students said they celebrate the uniqueness of having this language in Quebec.

“The French language is Quebec’s identity,” said Agha. “It makes the province a distinct society compared to the rest of North America.” In a similar vein, Matta also agreed that “French should be cherished and made equally important in Quebec.”

The importance of the French language is a feeling shared by many politicians running in the municipal elections. However, not all of them agree with the many components that this bill would instate. Joe Ortona, who is a chair of the English Montreal School board and running as an independent city councillor in the Loyola district, shares this sentiment. A previous member of Denis Coderre’s Ensemble Montréal, he was ousted from the party after taking a stance against Bill 96.

Ortona received an overwhelming amount of support after his exit from the Loyola district and throughout Quebec.

“I felt that ultimately I was chosen because I am a defender of anglophone rights and English institutions,” said Ortona. “The banner may have changed, but my values haven’t.”

However, Ortona was quick to mention that although his stance is against Bill 96 and the many problems he sees with it, he is not against the French language. “I recognize that the French language is important in Quebec, and it’s worthy of being protected,” he said. “My issue is that Bill 96 is tackling a problem with inappropriate solutions,” he emphasized.

When pressed on what he means by “inappropriate solutions,” he replied, “To suspend one’s civil liberties in order to allow for this law to give government agents broad powers that can allow them to come into a place of business unannounced and confiscate computers without a warrant. All on the basis of an anonymous tip that states that an employee is communicating in English.”

Ortona argues that Bill 96 is actually aimed at the English language and English Quebecers in particular. While the idea that English-speaking Quebecers are those who have failed to adopt Quebec customs is a popular perception held by some, he argues that “they are actually the most bilingual people in Canada who not only recognize the French language as important but adopt it as a second or third language to their own.”

“We don’t reject French at all, we embrace it,” said Ortona. “We see bilingualism as an asset, an advantage. If this bill does come into effect, then the message you’re sending is that anyone who doesn’t speak French is not welcome here; whether they realize it or not, that’s the message it’s sending.”

Overseas students are already flagging the potential effects of Bill 96.

“Getting into the country is already hard enough as an international student, with the CAQ [Certificat d’acceptation du Québec] and study permit I can’t imagine how much more difficult it will be if the bill is passed,” shared Matta, who recalls the gruelling admission process for her studies when applying from India.

Tesar believes the bill will negatively impact those students who might have stayed in Canada, contributing to its economy. “I don’t think the young people of today will easily allow themselves to be repressed,” she said. “We know we have options to leave, so if this bill and all its components are put into effect, we will.”

The subject of Bill 96 has become the centre of a fierce debate in Montreal. However, the effect the policy might have on the city’s international population is perhaps an unperceived consequence. Not only do students feel like the bill is a threat to English-speaking Montrealers, but they also feel like they will be left out in a city that they have come to know as their home. If implemented, the bill runs the risk of driving those targeted to look elsewhere for studies and work.

 

Graphic by James Fay

Categories
News

The U.S./Canada land border is re-opening: Here’s what that means

Some hopeful travelers say that the opportunity to cross the U.S./Canada land border should have happened a while ago

The world’s longest undefended land border will re-open to fully vaccinated Canadians for non-essential travel on Nov. 8.

The land border between Canada and the United States first closed on March 20, 2020. After 19 months, those with American friends and family or those just looking to get some cross-border shopping done will now be able to cross the land border.

The news was a welcome breath of fresh air.

Breanna Sherman, 23, normally visits her family in Florida once a year for the holidays, but border closures have barred her from doing so.

“This December, it will have been two years since we last saw them,” said Sherman.

Among the family who Sherman has missed is her cousin’s newborn daughter, born in May 2020, which the pandemic has kept her from meeting.

“I hoped I would see her in December of 2020, but that didn’t happen,” said Sherman. “When I eventually meet her now, she’ll be one and a half, not even a baby anymore, which is sad.”

“It will be fun to not only be in Florida for the first time in two years, but also continue that tradition of driving and sitting in the car with my family for two days.”

Michelle Lam, 22, says that although she’s enthusiastic about visiting the U.S. again, the lineups she expects at the border are worrying.

“I feel like it’s going to be chaos at the border,” said Lam. “I’m kind of nervous about it.”

While air travel into the United States has remained open to Canadians with proof of a negative COVID-19 test administered three days before they travel, some feel that driving is a more affordable and easier alternative.

“Not everyone has the luxury of being able to afford to fly. It’s just more accessible to everyone that wants to travel,” said Sherman.

Lam shares Sherman’s sentiment, saying “I feel very safe travelling by land, because it’s me and my car driving across the border as opposed to flying in the States, where I have to go through an airport and sit in a tube with however many people for X amount of hours.”

Before travellers get ready to hop over the border for a weekend, there are a few details to pay attention to.

All travellers, whether coming in by land, sea, or air, must be fully vaccinated in order to enter the United States and are required to show their proof of vaccination.

After speculation, the United States confirmed that travelers with  a combination of either FDA-approved doses, including Pfizer-BioNTech, Moderna and Janssen, or those approved by the World Health Organization, which include AstraZeneca, are considered fully vaccinated.

Travelers arriving by land or sea — that is by car, bus, boat, ferry or train — from the United States must provide proof of a negative PCR test taken 72 hours of their expected arrival into Canada.

The news of the re-opening did not come without criticism from hopeful travelers.

“It really makes no sense to me that it’s taken the U.S. this long to open the border,” said Sherman. “Not only are our vaccination rates way higher, but they could have just asked for proof of vaccination and a recently negative Covid test.”

The Canadian government reopened its land border to U.S. travelers in early August. As it currently stands, 74 per cent of Canadians are considered fully vaccinated, compared to 57 per cent of Americans.

Lily Cowper is a dual-citizen of the U.S. and Canada. She has flown to Florida and Virginia twice to visit her family since May 2021. Her travels did not come without complications.

“Everytime I went, there was so much drama,” said Cowper.

Cowper said that the cost and requirements for COVID-19 tests made visiting her family in the U.S. a cyclical headache.

“Every time I went back and forth, I had to pay hundreds of dollars extra and had to change my flight,” Cowper explained.

Cowper and her boyfriend went to visit her family in Virginia in September. After taking multiple tests to ensure they received results in time for their return flight to Canada, the test that did come on time contained a lab error. As a result, they were turned away from their flight.

Cowper says that she and her boyfriend each paid the equivalent of $300 CAD to receive a last-minute airport test to re-enter Canada.

“I’m happy that they’re finally opening up [the land border] and I hope they drop the testing requirement,” said Cowper.

The option to cross the land border into the U.S. without proof of a negative COVID-19 test is a cost-effective decision that Cowper says should have happened a while ago.

“It’s about time. Why are we constantly living in the past if we’re vaccinated?”

For Cowper, the opportunity to get in her car and drive to the U.S. could not come sooner. She says that the re-introduction of a more simplified way of travelling from one country to another is necessary.

“This whole two years has been so complicated, the rules are always changing, they don’t make sense,” Cowper added. “All I want to do is visit my family.”

 

Graphic by James Fay

Categories
Features

Life of L’Ange

Gaëtan Ouellet, also known as Old Montreal's "Angel", waits for his latte at Tommy Cafe in Montreal, Quebec, October 4, 2021. The man with a past on the streets now receives food and beverages from local businesses in exchange for favors such as taking out garbage and cleaning windows. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

From a man who once lived on the streets to one who now gives back to his community in any way he can, Gaëtan Ouellet’s life inspires him to support those in need

Trigger Warning: The following includes mentions of suicide, addiction, and mental illness.

A life of ups and downs best describes a man who, through the toughest of hardships, continues to keep his head above water. Someone who strives to be a positive influence to those around him who are struggling, as he once was. From being someone who got offered a helping hand when he needed it most to now being that person who lends a hand, Gaëtan Ouellet remains a man of perseverance and humility.

Ouellet is well known in the Old Port of Montreal, and more specifically known by the name “Ange.” His nickname grew out of his previous acts of generosity in parking lots. Beginning in the mid ‘90s — back when parking meters could be filled at individual machines set up for each spot —  Ouellet would take pleasure in filling them out for people before parking security showed up to issue them a ticket. When car owners noticed Ouellet saving them from a ticket, they would ask for his name.

“I’m just a guardian angel looking out for people. They call me Gaë-tange,” he would reply.

Those who discovered who their parking meter angel was often thanked him by offering small gestures, such as meals, money, or cigarettes.

People’s small offerings were not the motivators behind his actions. Although people’s kindness meant the world to him, all he expected was a simple “thank you.” Simply put, Ouellet enjoys helping others, and that’s that.

Growing up in Gaspésie on the east coast of Quebec, Ouellet had a rural upbringing. At the age of six, his father moved their family to Montreal after having trouble finding work in their area and he has been here ever since.

Ouellet’s early adult life began to take off when he took a welding course. He had an interest in the technique behind the craft and had studied it at a trade school in Saint-Henri. He ended up earning a steady income for five years as a welder and then moved on, working at Québecor binding magazines for 23 years. Things were looking up for Ouellet, until everything suddenly came crumbling down.

Looking back, the year 1994 marks a difficult time in Ouellet’s life. In the span of one week, he had lost his job due to layoffs and came home to find his roommate’s body —who was also a childhood friend of 32 years — hanging in their apartment. This line of horrific events led Ouellet into a dark cycle of drinking and heavy drug consumption of heroin and cocaine. Four months after being taken in by his family and friends as a temporary solution, Ouellet found himself alone, homeless, and on the streets of the Old Port of Montreal.

“Living on the street, you need a vice to forget you’re living on the street,” said Ouellet.

The homeless community of Montreal was never a stranger to Ouellet. Growing up, he would spend most of his free time around the Old Port. Ironically, years before finding himself homeless, Ouellet came to know an elderly homeless man whose health was in poor condition. He recalls the man being concerned about what would happen to his physical spot on the street once he was gone. Ouellet remembers the man sharing that if ever Ouellet was to be in tough times, his spot would become available soon as the man knew he wouldn’t be here much longer.

The elderly man’s spot soon became Ouellet’s first home on the streets of Montreal.

“It’s funny how life works,” said Ouellet. “It makes you realize we are not that different from one another.”

No one is prepared for the moment when they realize that bartering for their next meal is one of their only options for food. They don’t expect to find themselves desperately picking through ashtrays on the city sidewalk in hopes of finding a cigarette that isn’t fully smoked. Living on the streets, Ouellet was faced with this hard-hitting reality. For nine years, he was begging strangers to get by.

It’s often easier to think of the hardships that we face in life as temporary situations. Ones that won’t last long. For Ouellet, along with many others who find themselves in a similar situation, finding their next meal or having to endure weather of all kinds, lasted longer than he would have liked.

His days under the influence of heavy drugs and alcohol were spent begging for change at traffic lights and slurring words at passersby. The reaction on people’s faces was telling. They were not willing to help someone in an intoxicated state. Instead, he realized that they would be more willing to give to someone who was looking to help themselves. He knew his behaviour was not an effective way to appeal to people’s sympathy and generosity.

Ouellet takes out the garbage for a Vieux Montreal business, Montreal, Quebec, October 4, 2021. In exchange for services such as this one, “l’Ange du Vieux Montreal” is fed. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

Over the years, Ouellet learned that if this was to be his lifestyle for the time being, he had to make some changes in order to survive. Once he was clean and no longer being consumed by his vices, Ouellet decided to offer his free time to performing small tasks which became a new way to meet his needs of meals and clothing.

Gaëtan Ouellet, also known as “l’Ange du Vieux Montreal”, cleans up dust and spider webs from a restaurant’s window, Montreal, Quebec, October 4, 2021. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

On an average day, Ouellet can be found spending the better part of his time lending people a helping hand on Saint-Paul St. in Montreal’s Old Port. From brooming store fronts, washing windows, to shoveling walkways during the winter months, Ouellet’s acts of generosity are done with nothing asked in return.

From 2007 onwards, Ouellet began performing odd jobs for local businesses. Every now and then, he brings in garbage bins and occasionally fills in for dishwasher duty. While Ouellet may not be employed by anyone in particular, the 12 clients that he helps out from time to time provide him with food and clothing in exchange for his services.

Ouellet, Old Montreal’s “Angel”, takes out recycling bags from an Old Montreal alleyway, October 4, 2021. Some mornings, Gaetan wakes up early to do his rounds of trash removal in the area. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

Living as a homeless person, he came into contact with several influential people, including celebrities such as Carlos Santana, by chance, through mutual friends. Judges, lawyers and restaurant owners like Chuck Hughes are also acquaintances Ouellet has formed bonds with. Ouellet’s down-to-earth and friendly personality even got him invited out to lunch by judges who were looking for company during their lunch break. He noticed his presence on the street made a difference. On the odd day when he didn’t follow his usual routine, familiar faces would ask him why they had missed him and where he had been.

Notably, 2021 marks 19 years since Ouellet got sober. He attributes his success in getting clean to a good friend, now a lawyer, who he met while living on the streets. When he could no longer stand to see him in this state, Ouellet’s newfound friend called an ambulance so he could get admitted to the hospital for help; the first step taken on the road to recovery.

This lawyer friend paid for Ouellet’s four month stay at the Louis-H. Lafontaine psychiatric hospital, which got Ouellet clean and provided medication for his health issues.

It is also thanks to this lawyer friend that he now has a government-subsidized apartment to come home to, as well as a place to offer others to stay if they need a roof over their head and a good night’s rest.

Despite no longer living on the streets, Ouellet still gets up everyday to support those within his community, whether they be homeless, business owners, or just people passing by.

The sun rises over Old Montreal, the place Ouellet, “Angel”, calls home, October 4, 2021. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

In the fall of 2020, Ouellet began devoting his free time to residents of the Notre-Dame Street camping site because of the large volume of people who continued to struggle during the COVID-19 pandemic. Along with the help of volunteers, he aided in distributing donated goods, such as clothes and food. Eventually, they managed to find long-term homes for 16 people at the campsite, providing them with an affordable rented space when sharing the cost amongst groups of two.

Ouellet recently got contacted on Sept. 19 by the Old Brewery Mission who provide services to the homeless in Montreal. He was asked to help them out given how he’s familiar with the community in need and could make them feel more comfortable in accepting the help. He went out to the corner of Berri and Sainte-Catherine St. to help homeless citizens in the area. The team focused on preparations for upcoming weather changes, so heavier jackets and boots were distributed in addition to access to a barber and foot care services for those in need.

As someone who once lived that reality, Ouellet knows first hand the needs of people living on the street. Access to foot care and acceptable personal hygiene resources are as necessary as warm clothes and appropriate footwear. It’s this type of knowledge that Ouellet feels thankful to have when lending a helping hand to those in need.

Ouellet places a mat in front of Tommy’s cafe for people to sit on in Old Montreal, Quebec, October 4, 2021. CHRISTINE BEAUDOIN/The Concordian

Ouellet is the proud father of three daughters. While they have been in and out of his life during his time on the streets, his bond with them has grown now that he is clean. He enjoys the time with his six grandchildren who brighten up his days. He feels fortunate to have gotten sober. He says that he now feels like he can fully appreciate and enjoy the years ahead with his family. What does the future have in store for his retirement years? Ouellet doesn’t have a set plan just yet.

Ouellet says that he is happy where he is now and is grateful for the opportunity to help others. Lending a helping hand to those he sees sleeping on park benches for nights at a time fulfills him with a sense of gratitude.

Life has its ups and downs for every individual in any community. Some people’s challenges may be more visible than others. Kindness is universal and can go a long way in impacting how someone’s story plays out. In rising above hardships, we have the ability to look beyond those less than perfect times in our lives with compassion. It is that compassion that allows us to put ourselves in others’ shoes. Ouellet reminds us that everyone has a story and, more importantly, that everyone is human.

“Are we really that different? I look at the human side of every person that I meet whether they be officials such as police officers, judges or just humans that need support. They are all the same in my eyes, I help everyone in good faith,” said Ouellet.

 

Visuals by Christine Beaudoin

 

Once again, I am asking for you to take to the polls

It’s time to vote, Concordians

Just under a month ago, we headed to the polls to cast our vote on a surprise federal election. The underwhelming result of the ballots tied with evidence of a historically low voter turnout, made for a truly bummer display of civic duty. And while we sit with that, Quebec is calling on us to retrace our steps to the voting booth.

Generally speaking, reasons to not participate in elections usually fall between feeling disenchanted in our voting system, or not wanting to waste a perfectly good Sunday standing in line. After all, why waste the effort when the real election is over, right?

However, it’s arguable that municipal elections have more weight on our day-to-day lives than a federal election do. Unlike Ottawa, the debate governing the bureaucratic red tape is in our neighbourhoods for our neighbourhoods; which includes deciding on bike lanes, building codes, and business policies, to name a few.

Last election in 2017, Montreal voted for Projet Montréal’s candidate Valérie Plante to help bring accountability to local government and city construction projects, decrease housing costs, and increase pedestrian spaces, along with a number of seemingly progressive policies to take the city to the next level. Whether or not you think she has succeeded, Plante played a crucial role in breaking or accomplishing these promises.

Just over 70 per cent of Concordia students are Quebec residents (or approximately 32,000 people). Given that the last election was decided by a margin of 27,138 votes, Concordians have a real weight in determining our city’s future.

To put it in perspective, this election will determine how the local government will handle the housing crisis, funding of the police, French and English language laws for business and education, expansion of the public transportation system, revitalizing the downtown economy, protecting heritage sites, and more.

This week, take time to research and compare the different party platforms running to steer the city, because ultimately, this is our city to decide on too.

 

Photograph by Alex Hutchins

Categories
Features

Living with Stage 4 Cancer: Nalie Agustin’s Journey to Inspiring the World

Best-selling author, public speaker, and social media influencer has made it her mission to spread light and hope on her path to raising breast cancer awareness

“You have cancer.”

These are the words that changed Nalie Agustin’s life when she heard them for the first time in 2013. Eight years later, Agustin is thriving despite living with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer – and she’s doing it in the most inspiring way.

At 24 years old, Agustin found a lump in her left breast. Initially, she didn’t think much of it, given that breast cancer is known to be most common in older women. It wasn’t until the lump continued to grow larger that she decided to take action and seek medical assistance. After several tests, the results came back: On July 17, 2013, Agustin was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer.

Driving home from the hospital on that very day, after receiving life-altering news, Agustin recorded a raw, unfiltered and incredibly emotional vlog in her car for her YouTube channel. “The reason why I’m recording this is [be]cause I know I have a crazy journey ahead of me, and this is day one,” she says to the camera.

Eight years later, Agustin has a growing community of over 29,000 YouTube subscribers and 110,000 Instagram followers who are inspired by her ability to shift perspective, find inspiration in the everyday and remain resilient, brave and courageous despite her cancer diagnosis.

These unique abilities have been instilled in Agustin since childhood.

Growing up, Agustin was raised to be thankful for the little things. With family in the Philippines who didn’t have much, her parents always ensured that she and her two brothers understood the importance of gratitude. In the Agustin household, even a simple dinner began with a prayer. “We had to be grateful for everything on the table, no matter if it was big or small, or fancy or not,” she said.

The resilience, courage and bravery that she emanates today also stems from her childhood. As the only girl in her tight-knit family, Agustin was always ready to prove that she could successfully take on any new challenge that stood in front of her with determination and drive. Naturally, from a young age, her ability to face any obstacle head-on was clear.

After completing CEGEP in 2008, Agustin enrolled in communication studies at Concordia University, a program she felt would allow for the exploration of her creativity in several facets of media, including writing and video. As a self-proclaimed “multi-passionate” individual, this program was perfect for her. However, post-graduation in 2012, Agustin landed a job working in eCommerce where she felt incredibly lost and unfulfilled. She knew it wasn’t the right fit for her.

Photograph by Karolina Victoria Jez

“I always knew I was meant to do something special,” recalled Agustin as she reflected back on this time in her life.

While a cancer diagnosis may not have been her idea of “special,” raising awareness about breast cancer in young women and inspiring both the cancer and non-cancer community may have been the “special” she was searching for.

It wasn’t long after Agustin graduated from Concordia University that she received her diagnosis: stage 2 breast cancer.

She spent the following year in and out of the hospital receiving the standard treatment, while simultaneously sharing blog posts to “nalie.ca” and vlogs to her YouTube channel. “As a creative, and being a communications graduate, it just felt therapeutic and right to express myself and write,” she said.

Her blog posts were written in the form of personal diary entries. At the time, Agustin’s goal was to keep her large Filipino family updated with the treatments she was receiving, as well as how she was coping with the challenges she was facing.

What started out as a way to communicate with her close relatives and express herself eventually grew into a large and supportive online community.

“I dedicated my entire journey at that point to advocating and spreading awareness because I didn’t know any other 24-year-old who had breast cancer,” said Agustin.

As Agustin sees it, going through breast cancer at a young age raises unique concerns that may not impact older women in the same way, such as the potential of infertility.

In 2014, after chemotherapy, a mastectomy, and 23 rounds of radiation, Agustin was considered to be in remission. For three years, she was travelling, speaking and sharing her story with many individuals around the world. “I was really living that dream list of things I’ve always wanted to do,” she said.

The sense of freedom that Agustin felt was cut short in 2017, when she had a recurrence. She was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer — which spread to her lungs. “That was really traumatic because I really thought it was over,” Agustin recalled. “I really thought I was in the clear.”

A stage 4 diagnosis is considered incurable and terminal. Evidently, this reality was a scary prognosis that weighed heavily on Agustin and her loved ones.

Although difficult, she continued to share her journey with a growing social media following who were “beyond just followers on Instagram.” Based on the overwhelming support she receives, it’s evident to Agustin that her “followers” genuinely care about her health, happiness, and progress. This is evident in the hundreds of kind, supportive and empowering comments left on every post, and in the meaningful interactions Agustin has with individuals in her direct messages.

For a while, the cancer was quite stable and everything seemed to be going well — until May 2020, when Agustin’s cancer journey took an unexpected and unfortunate turn.

Agustin began experiencing neck pain, headaches, muscle spasms and sudden numbness in her legs. An immediate visit to the hospital and an emergency CT scan confirmed that Agustin’s cancer had spread from her lungs to her brain.

“All I remember hearing in my head was ‘no.’ No, this can’t be true […] No, this can’t be the end,” shared Agustin in an Instagram caption.

What followed were five rounds of whole brain radiation, Taxol (a chemotherapy medication) and stereotactic radiosurgery. “That was probably the toughest time of my entire eight-year journey,” she said.

“My brain is like my artifact, it’s where I get all my ideas, it’s what controls my whole body […] it’s my mind which is key to everything,” she explained.

With such a traumatic diagnosis, Agustin disconnected from social media. She knew that focusing on healing herself had to be the biggest priority. “I had really dedicated my last seven years to helping others, and now I realized I really need to help myself,” she explained.

However, although she temporarily ceased writing for her active online community, she never stopped writing for herself.

Writing by hand in her diary, Agustin wrote out her life lessons learned amidst the trauma.

When Agustin returned to social media four months later, she decided to make separate dated Instagram posts to update her followers. Each post represented an event or an experience that she had undergone during those intense months of treatment. But most importantly, each post had an incredibly powerful caption with an inspiring takeaway. Organizing all these posts within Instagram’s “Guides” feature, she titled them “The Diary of Nalie.”

These posts are the inspiration behind Agustin’s new book, The Diary of Nalie: A collection of life lessons and reflections shared while thriving through stage IV cancer.

“I always wanted to write a book and have something tangible and physical that my community can hold,” expressed Agustin.

Overnight, her book found its place as a #1 Amazon Best Seller in Canada, as well as in two specific categories: #1 Best Seller in Cancer, and #1 Best Seller in Practical and Motivational Self-Help.

“There’s such a big analogy between a stage 4 cancer diagnosis and not knowing what’s to come, and I feel like that’s what people are facing right now – complete unknown and uncertainty,” said Agustin, referencing how the ongoing pandemic has changed life for everyone.

In an Amazon review, one reader shares, “I do not have cancer and I felt like this book spoke to me […] This journal is raw and authentic with so many incredible life lessons that would definitely make you do a double take on how to perceive things in life and how to handle it with grace.”

Another reader wrote that “Nalie will walk you through her journey and inspire you to keep moving forward in the midst of your battles.”

Evidently, The Diary of Nalie is offering a glimmer of hope and inspiration that many are so desperately seeking in such an unpredictable time. That’s why Agustin believes her book has seen so much quick success.

During some of the lowest lows of her cancer journey, her book and its success has ignited a sense of purpose and joy in Agustin and her family’s life. Launching the book was a beautiful way to “flip the script and really celebrate the wins rather than focus on the trauma,” she said.

In true Agustin spirit, she has found a way to give back. On Oct. 20, she will be hosting a book signing at Maison Principal. All ticket sale proceeds will be donated to the Program for Women’s Cancer Research at the McGill University Health Centre Division of Radiation Oncology.

It’s been eight years since the words Agustin never thought she would hear changed her life.

But she will continue to live every day with gratitude and faith.

She will thrive.

She will grow.

She will evolve.

She is determined to do so.

“To me all that matters is focusing not on eradicating the illness, but making sure [I] feel as strong and good as possible, because when you feel strong and good, then that’s living,” she said.

While Agustin is eternally grateful for the medicine she has received and her team of oncologists at the hospital, she believes that’s only half the battle. “Healing happens at home,” she explained.

She believes that effective cancer care is the perfect combination between standard treatments in hospitals and integrative out-of-hospital holistic therapies.

Agustin’s years of undoubtable challenges have also been marked by unforgettable life lessons: taking care of your mind and body is key to truly living. Mindfulness, meditation, healthy eating and light exercise is “the reason I believe I am still here today,” she said.

Agustin is the epitome of what it means to face adversity and uncertainty with resilience and bravery. Throughout it all, she has continued to use her platform as a way of giving back in incredible ways. She remains driven to inspire thousands online, advocate for young women diagnosed with breast cancer, and be a voice of hope within the cancer community.

Agustin calls herself a “Thriver,” and by continuously sharing her genuine and authentic self, she inspires the rest of the world to thrive alongside her.

 

Feature photograph provided by Nalie Agustin

Categories
Arts

A brief look at the life and work of Gwendolyn MacEwen

Having published over 20 books in her lifetime, the work from this Canadian writer still remains underappreciated to this day

Despite publishing over 20 books in her lifetime, Canadian poet and novelist Gwendolyn MacEwen remains one of Canadian literature’s most elusive and underappreciated writers. Born in Toronto in 1941, MacEwen grew up during a time when many young male writers, such as Leonard Cohen and Daryl Hine, were being discovered in Canada.

This made it extremely difficult for women to be accepted into the arts community as established writers. As well-known Canadian author Margaret Atwood notes in the introduction to MacEwen’s Volume One: The Early Years, “Women artists of any kind, in that still heavily-Freudian era, were assumed to have adjustment problems… if women insisted on doing rather than being, they were likely to end up with their heads in the oven.” This certainly didn’t deter MacEwen, and Atwood adds, “MacEwen wanted to be out on the sharp edge with the boys, not back in the kitchen with the girls.”

By age 16, she had several poems published in the well-respected literary journal The Canadian Forum. By 18, she left high school to continue honing her skill as a writer, and she soon wrote her first novel Julian the Magician. While many had warned her that adopting a career as a writer wasn’t a good move for a young woman, especially during the late fifties, she continued to churn out spellbinding work that would eventually win her the Governor General’s Literary Award in 1969.

While a quick Google search will offer relatively limited information about the writer, it remains clear from brief biographies that MacEwen’s life was a turbulent one. Her mother suffered from mental illness, spending long periods of time away from home in mental health institutions. Additionally, her father suffered from alcoholism.

In 1987, the writer’s own life came to a tragically early end due to complications arising from her own struggles with alcoholism.

Despite these unfortunate circumstances, MacEwen turned to writing as an escape. Atwood later notes in the introduction that “Her childhood was stressful; but the conviction that she would be a poet came to her as a saving grace in early adolescence.” MacEwen was able to not only craft fantastical settings and characters for herself, but also for her readers. While her work offers an escape, it also holds up a mirror to readers and demands that they take time to reflect on the world around them. Take for example this particular verse from one of her most well-known poems The Discovery. MacEwen writes:

When you see the land naked, look again / (burn your maps, that is not what I mean) / I mean the moment when it seems most plain / is the moment when you must begin again.

In her poems, she often encourages readers to push the boundaries of things they may interpret as both real or unreal. She also encourages readers to scrutinize even the most unsuspecting and ordinary of objects around them, such as clocks and coins.

MacEwen’s poems are guaranteed to take you on an adventure, but it certainly won’t be a breezy one. It’s one that challenges you, one that guides you to the darkest corners of the mind. And although MacEwen’s readers are left with many questions, they know not to expect answers. Perhaps that’s just part of her charm, and ultimately, her legacy.

 

Feature Graphic by James Fay

Categories
News

“No pride in genocide” — Indigenous leaders lead thousands who marched to honour the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation

Every Child Matters march on Sept. 30 2021

Among other communities across Canada, Montreal gathers to mourn and recognize the history of Canada’s residential school system.

On Sept. 30, Indigenous leaders and supporters took it to the streets to mourn the lives of the individuals who died while attending residential schools and those whose bodies may never be found. At the start of the event, ae crowd of hundreds came together at 1 p.m. at Place du Canada near Peel Ave. and René Lévesque Blvd. in front of the former site of the Sir John A. Macdonald statue, to symbolize the genocide orchestrated by the first prime minister, who introduced the residential school system to Canada. Macdonald had a significant role in the creation of the residential school system, and after his statue was torn down by an anonymous group of activists and protestors on Aug. 29, its former site remained a powerful reminder for attendees.

Organized by the Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal (NWSM) and the Assembly of First Nations Quebec-Labrador, the event began with youth from different Quebec and Labrador communities chanting Indigenous traditional music.

To kick off the march, the group witnessed several Indigenous speakers share their stories. As they proceeded to march, the crowd grew to include thousands of people.

Marchers were encouraged to wear orange shirts to stand in solidarity.  Orange Shirt Day was started by Phyllis Webstad, a residential school survivor whose orange shirt was taken away from her at the St. Joseph’s Mission residential school in British Columbia. The orange shirt symbolizes how the residential school system took away the identities of Indigenous students, and seeks to honour and remember the experiences and losses of every Indigenous community. 

With the recent announcement by Premier François Legault refusing to pass the legislation marking Sept. 30 as a statutory holiday, many voiced their anger. Among the many is Nakuset, executive director of the NWSM.

“I think it’s ridiculous. I think that if you’re going to deny this as a statutory holiday, you’re going to deny us, you’re also denying our existence, you’re denying systemic racism,” said Nakuset.

“Hopefully, when a lot of people show up, we are no longer in denial. This is the day that people have chosen to leave work, to leave school and come be with us, and maybe next year, we’ll change his mind,” she added.

Nakuset emphasized the importance of active reflection.

“The reason why I put this together is because I want this day to be a day of action. I do not want people hanging at home or at work reflecting on this particular day,” she explained. “I think when you come here and listen to speakers, then you actually learn about residential schools,” she continued.

When asked about her hopes and expectations for this march, she insisted on accountability with subpoenas.

“What I [would] like is for people that know about the law to actually start handing out subpoenas for all those residential schools. […] Come to court, share what happened and change the history books, because we need justice,” Nakuset urged.

Though Nakuset sees this holiday as gruesome, she says it is important to remember Sept. 30 as a day of action, a day to learn and a day to do something productive for the future. 

Chief Ross Montour of the Mohawk Council of Kahnawà:ke opened his speech by also acknowledging the day as historic.

“We are here to walk today to gather and to remember every life on this day who suffered through the colonization of this country… Those who never came home.”

Montour ended his speech by saying, “I’m happy to be here, but I had to be here.”

Katsi’tsakwas Ellen Gabriel, a Mohawk activist and spokesperson from the Kanehsatà:ke Nation’s Turtle Clan also expressed her thoughts.

“Thank you all for being here […] to support the children of a genocide created by Canada, and the churches that allowed children to be murdered in these residential schools.”

Gabriel continued by mourning the lost lives of all the speakers, the artists, the singers, the musicians, the traditional knowledge keepers, and the medicine keepers that could have been standing with them.

“We are mourning,” she repeated. “We mourn the losses of lives that could have been standing with us.”

“This is our land, and no amount of roses and pavement and policies and lives can change that,” Gabriel added.

She proposed a solution of enforcement of education about Indigenous history in schools. Gabriel addresses this request to the government, and demands a change to educate the youth.

“They tell us our academics can take care of that. Well, education was used as a tool against Indigenous people. Now, we want to use that to turn the tables and use education so you can be assimilated on our terms.”

When discussing the government, Gabriel said the imposed laws are not helpful but rather a form to further oppress them.

“Your laws, they are not for us, they are to oppress us. Your laws, your justice system is to make sure that there is an erasure of Indigenous history in this land that claims to be a human rights defendant.”

Gabriel ended her speech by encouraging everyone to take more action after the demonstration.

“Don’t make this the last thing you do for those children who never came home.”

The speeches ended with a poem addressed to Legault shared by Elisapie, an Inuk singer and songwriter.

Her poem read, “You continue to defend Quebeckers against these accusations of racism from a few individuals, but where are we, the Natives of Quebec, in your speech?” 

 

Photo by Catherine Reynolds.

Categories
News

Sept. 30 is now a federal holiday

The National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is a one to remember and honour the children and survivors of residential schools

Every year on Sept. 30, people across Canada participate in Orange Shirt Day to honour residential school survivors and spread awareness of the tragedy. However, this year will be the first time Sept. 30 is a federal holiday, despite the fact that many provinces are choosing not to recognize it as a statutory holiday.

The new statutory holiday is called the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation — the outcome of legislation passed by the Canadian government in June, and is the result of one of the 94 calls to action of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

“We call upon the federal government, in collaboration with Aboriginal peoples, to establish, as a statutory holiday, a National Day for Truth and Reconciliation to honour Survivors, their families, and communities, and ensure that public commemoration of the history and legacy of residential schools remains a vital component of the reconciliation process,” states the commission.

“I don’t think we should be calling them residential schools anymore,” said Catherine Kinewesquao Richardson, who is Métis with Cree, Dene, and Gwich’in ancestry. She is the director of First Peoples studies at Concordia.

“Residential school is a euphemism, they want it to sound better,” she said. “It makes them feel a bit more protected if you call it a school rather than a prison camp. But if we are going to use the truth part in truth and reconciliation, then I think it’s time to call residential schools what they are, which is a prison camp.”

For Richardson, the Sept. 30 holiday, while a product of the 94 calls to action, was a direct result of the recent discovery of hundreds of bodies at residential schools across Canada.

In May, the remains of 215 children were found at the Kamloops Indian Residential School in BC. As of August, according to The Guardian, over 1,300 unmarked graves have been identified at five residential schools across Canada, but it’s estimated to rise to over 3,200. With 139 residential schools recognized by the federal government, and many more privately funded, that number is expected to increase by the thousands.

Many Indigenous people on Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok have posted that, including the bodies found at American residential schools, the number of children’s bodies is over 6,500. However, that number is not considered official.

“While I’ve heard some reports about the child’s graves, it’s kind of sporadic every time something new happens,” said Richardson, who explained she doesn’t see the media reporting on the issue enough.

The holiday on Sept. 30 is not being recognized by many provinces, including Quebec. According to CTV news, Premier François Legault stated at a press conference that Quebec isn’t interested in having more statutory holidays, no matter the reason.

Concordia follows provincial statutory holidays, not federal ones, stated Vannina Maestracci, a spokesperson for Concordia.

“However, we have been marking the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation for some years through events organized and led by Concordia’s Indigenous staff and faculty,” said Maestracci.

She stated that since Sept. 30 is designed to promote awareness, Concordia, as it does every year, encourages students to wear an orange shirt in honour of the Indigenous children who were sent to residential schools.

Sept. 30 is commonly referred to as Orange Shirt Day, where people wear orange shirts to create a dialogue about residential schools, and to honour the survivors. The reason why people wear the colour orange is because of survivor Phyllis Webstad. When she went to her first day at a residential school wearing an orange shirt bought by her grandmother, it was taken away from Webstad, who was six at the time.

Maestracci also explained that this year the Indigenous Directions Office is holding a round table discussion on residential schools, and a story will be published by Manon Tremblay — who is nêhiyaw-iskwêw (Plains Cree) from the Muskeg Lake Cree Nation and the senior director of Indigenous Directions — about her grandmother, who was forcibly sent to residential school.

“I would tell you to take the time to reflect and take the time to educate oneself on that part of Canadian history,” said Tremblay when asked if she had advice for what people could do to show support on Sept. 30. “Reflect on or educate oneself on the intergenerational trauma that still persists today.”

For Tremblay, it is important to remember that while there are Indigenous people who didn’t go to residential school, their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents did, and that trauma is carried through the generations.

“That continues to influence who they are today because of the way that they were brought up, and some of the apprehensions that their parents and grandparents communicated to them,” said Tremblay. “And this is the sort of thing that we are still experiencing today.”

Tremblay explained that Concordia is doing a Indigenous Directions Action Plan in response to the calls to action by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The action plan was created in 2019, and aims to decolonize and Indigenize Concordia so that it can move forward based on responsibility, reciprocity, relevance and respect.

She also stated that the fact that Concordia is staying open for Sept. 30 is an opportunity to bring awareness to people on campus. If they were sent home, they would not think about the day and what it means. But if students are on campus, they have a chance to engage with the Indigenous community and have an honest discussion.

 

Juliet Mackie is a Métis (Cree/Gwich’in/English) Graduate Student, painter, and beadwork artist with maternal roots in Red River, MB and Fort Chipewyan, AB. Juliet’s great-grandmother Evelyn Wylie attended an Anglican day school as a child in Fort Chipewyan. Evelyn married a Swedish trapper, Alvar Oak, and raised their three daughters seasonally on a trapline at Hill Island Lake, NWT. Alvar established a small trappers school for his daughters and the children of the other trappers to protect them from being taken by the Indian Agent. In 1944, Evelyn moved with her daughters from Lake Athabasca to Edmonton where they attended a local school. They faced discrimination in Edmonton and were often referred to “halfbreeds.” Like many Métis families, they hid their identity to protect themselves from violence and racism. In her art practice, Juliet uses portraiture and beadwork to reclaim her Métis identity and celebrate Indigeneity. Her painting famii/family depicts Juliet and her brother as children. 

 

Painting by Juliet Mackie

Exit mobile version