Tag: Experience

Categories
Arts

PHI Centre’s Horizons VR brings a whole new form to film

Adil Boukind/Centre Phi

The multipurpose venue displays award-winning virtual reality works

The PHI Centre reopened its Horizons VR exhibition on Nov. 9. The installation consists of four different rooms, each designated for a virtual reality exhibit, some including user-interactive elements. These award-winning pieces were all breathtaking in their own unique ways. Each one had me pulling off my headset either in complete awe or in intense reflection on the content I had just experienced.

Goliath: Playing with Reality is about a man who is diagnosed with schizophrenia after losing his parents, after which he spends several years in isolation taking strong medication. The protagonist, who goes by Goliath, finds solace in connecting with the outside world through video games after his return home. 

This piece is a true sensory overload. Bombardments of colours, shapes, and creatures create an intense feeling of hallucination and detachment from reality, all while keeping a video game theme as the virtual world demonstrates pixelated elements over many occasions. A few interactive moments involving first-person shooting and old arcade games allowed an extra level of immersion, and Tilda Swinton’s partial-narration was a soothing contrast to the chaos displayed throughout. 

Adil Boukind/Centre PHI

A following room is designated for the viewing of Reeducated, the animated true story of three strangers who were placed in a Xinjiang “reeducation” camp. The three men were caught in the middle of quite possibly the “largest internment of ethnic and religious minorities since the second world war,” according to The New Yorker. 

Displayed as a 360° VR short film, the memoir strikes emotion visually and through storytelling. The animation, created with a nod to Chinese ink wash painting, exposes the bleak horrors that average citizens must endure if they come from circumstances that aren’t to the government’s liking. As for the narrators, their friendship formed through hardship is poignant and tear-jerking, and it can be felt through the story they recount.

The third VR work, Kusunda, brings the viewer to rural Nepal, where they are placed in an interview conducted as a POW with shaman Lil Bahadur, who has forgotten his dying native dialect of Kusunda. Meanwhile, his granddaughter Hima takes initiative to revive the language of her family and ancestors. 

The heartwarming film tells their story through colourful CGI animation as well as live-action, splitting between informative and artful entertainment. The learning experience is topped off interactively, as the viewer is asked to pronounce words of the Kusunda language in order to resume the experience, which in turn spreads the subtle revival of the dialect. 

Finally, Marco & Polo Go Round tells the story of a couple facing problems in their relationship, which takes a severe anti-gravitational twist. As we follow the couple around their messy apartment, many objects around the kitchen fly up in the air, sticking to the ceiling. This is a reflection of the gradual dissolution of the protagonists’ love. 

Marco & Polo Go Round is about half the length of all of the other pieces, so it only has enough time to strike hard with its surrealism. The message, while not up-front, is especially thought provoking given the minimal context provided. It’s a beautiful animated metaphor.

It’s clear why the PHI Centre selected these four works to display. Each one deserved to win their multiple respected awards. Virtual reality, if done correctly, can definitely be an art form.

Categories
Sports

An unforgettable first year at The Concordian

A recap of my first year as Assistant Sports Editor

In my first year at Concordia University, I got out of my comfort zone more than ever before, and I was determined to keep the ball rolling during the 2020–21 academic year.

When I found out last summer that I would be the Assistant Sports Editor at The Concordian, I was happy, but simultaneously worried, because I had no clue how sports would be operating down the line during the COVID-19 pandemic.

I have always kept tabs on professional sports leagues, but I was thrilled to get an opportunity to bring a similar level of enthusiasm to collegiate sports prior to the pandemic in the form of Concordia Stinger profiles, game recaps, interviews with coaches, and much more.

Leading up to the opening weeks of school, I spent weeks mentally preparing myself for the challenges ahead, like how a kid playing basketball alone in the backyard might envision game scenarios and buzzer-beaters in immaculate detail. But when the spotlight was on, and it was time to produce the stories I had mentally built up, I was stumped for ideas.

Suddenly, there was “nothing” to write about.

Everyone on the publication staff helped me at some point — but none more than Alec Brideau, The Concordian’s Sports Editor. He pointed someone like me, a deer in the headlights for most of the year, in the right direction on a near-daily basis. When I had questions, be it about life or work, he was responsive, supportive, and friendly.

After a couple of weeks of trial and error, things started to settle down as I slowly but surely got habitual with the pitching, writing, and editing routines. Stories were becoming easier to come by, and I was relying less on the default pitches that pertained to collegiate and professional sports.

What was at first a bitter notion became a blessing over time — I eventually took immense pride in writing stories on businesses and people that would never have gotten sports media attention in a normal year.

I embraced the idea of branching out to include Esports, and I am grateful to The Concordian’s staff for having an open mind to the idea. In writing about the lives of streamers and covering international Esports tournaments, I realized how enormous the gaming industry is and how much room it has to grow.

Talking to business owners that were struck hard by the pandemic was a sobering process that often left me grateful for the little things. Meanwhile, covering the more fortunate businesses that are benefiting from these exceptional times was enlightening for me as an emerging sportswriter.

One of the many things I learned through two years in J-school is that the world is full of worthwhile stories and interesting people to write about. During my time with The Concordian, I realized that finding stories is an acquired taste that develops through experience and impartiality.

To the entire editorial and management staff that helped turn my raw ideas into full-fledged stories, words cannot express how grateful I truly am for the guidance. I only regret the fact we never got the chance to meet in person.

Brideau was a magnificent mentor that balanced everything to a tee. He kept me coordinated and held me accountable during a hectic year.

In hindsight, I could not have asked for a better overall learning experience, and I look forward to what lies ahead.

 

Graphic by Lily Cowper

Categories
Opinions

The missing bridge between two worlds

Graphic by @sundaemorningcoffee

One student’s thoughts on leaving Chile and entering Montreal’s diverse atmosphere

Moving to a different country often leads us to feel between places and cultures. I’m sure most of us who have come from a foreign land to study here at Concordia struggle to find that sense of belonging, whether our place is here, there or neither. It is easy to lose your sense of identity and feel lost, or like you have no sense of direction after your studies. Does this sound familiar to you? Because for me, it is a recurrent state of mind.

It is important to acknowledge the privilege many of us have to have been able to leave our homes in order to pursue a degree. However, this is not the situation experienced by the vast majority of people who immigrate. Many do so due to the hardships, conflicts and lack of opportunities they face in their home countries. Regardless of the case, experiencing nostalgia, sadness and/or loneliness is common. We all leave a life behind in order to make a new one; making multiple sacrifices along the way, since parting with what is familiar to us is never an easy task. Of course, there are the family and friends you’ve left behind, which always encompass one of the biggest pulls between both worlds.

Personally, growing up, I always had a particular itch to leave Chile, in order to get a new perspective on both the exterior world and my interior one, too. I was so confident that a change was in order—that if I moved, it would be permanent. I was and I still am extremely grateful for the privilege I have that allowed me to make that decision in the first place. But now that three years have gone by, I’m able to acknowledge how wrong and naive I was. Ever since I left, I have felt in between places and countries; not fully here but not quite there, either.

In Montreal, we experience new challenges. Language becomes a barrier if you don’t speak French and learning it can be a difficult task. Especially since by attending Concordia, we are mostly exposed to English speakers, which leads us to connect with only a small percentage of Francophones. However, one of the best features this city has to offer is diversity. No city is perfect, nor has it all, but Montreal does have a certain degree of multiculturalism, which helps us bridge the gap between our two worlds.

I must also acknowledge the fact that we are students living in a student city—in fact, Montreal was named number one in the world according to a 2017 QS World University ranking, an annual publication of university rankings by Quacquarelli Symonds. That being said, there’s always someone else you can bond with over the struggles that come with moving and living in a different country.

Nothing in life is permanent but change, and we are happiest when we do not resist it or overthink about the future. What I’m trying to say is that it is ok to feel conflicted, lost, homesick, sad, unsure, lonely—you name it. We must allow ourselves the space to experience the baggage that comes with moving farther away from home. This way, in this new place, we learn to grasp and contemplate our previous life from a new perspective. At the same time, we create a mindset that allows us to live and make the most of our current student experience.

Changing countries has multiple complications, which at times can be overwhelming, but feeling lost or homesick from time to time is natural. Getting anxious about where we are going next will only take away the peace that we enjoy in the moment. We will get there as we once got here. And if there is still a void you cannot fill, I strongly recommend you fill it with large quantities of Quebec’s greatest gift: poutine.

Graphic by @sundaemorningcoffee

Categories
Opinions

Diary of a fat kid: deconstructed

graphic by @sundaemorningcoffee

Learning to accept yourself and deal with trauma as an overweight person

TW: Eating disorders, body image, body dysmorphia

First, let me get this straight: being fat is not wrong. It’s not because you do not correspond to the ideal conception of beauty set by Instagram influencers that you are not worthy of living, nor are you responsible for anything. If you feel at peace with your body, good for you, and you should never feel pressure because your kind of beauty is different from others’ standards.

“Hey, fat guy!”, “Are you the guy from Super Size Me?” Yes, I’ve heard these phrases directed at me. “Susan Boyle,” “Big Mama,”—these were just some of my nicknames. On Jan. 31, 2018, I was 18 and weighed 287 pounds, almost twice the normal weight for a boy my age. My BMI was 42 at the time, and deemed me morbidly obese.

Being overweight is tough, especially as a teenager. Teenagers are cruel and immature. Some will try to hurt you—these ones, you’d better ignore altogether. Others will try to fight with you, and I fought back, which I do not recommend since it almost got me expelled. Most of the time, people don’t realize they’re hurting you. In this case, you have two options: say how you feel, which requires an extraordinary amount of courage, or hurt in silence, which is the option most people choose, and the most destructive.

Depending on the characters, some people will be very affected by mockery, and some just won’t care. I belonged to the first category. One time, I was coming home from school when an old woman stopped me to comment on my sweater, and as she left, she yelled, in front of my friends, “And don’t get any fatter!” I’d never been so humiliated, and I spent the rest of the afternoon crying on my couch.

Harassment is one thing, but what’s worse is isolation. When you’re fat (let’s call a spade a spade), you don’t go out, because people might notice your double-chin; you don’t go to parties because girls might reject you; you don’t go on vacation because you’re uncomfortable being shirtless, it goes on and on. You stay at home, so you feel miserable, so you eat to forget. And once you enter this vicious circle, it’s very difficult to get out.

That’s how I went from being a perfectly healthy 13-year-old boy to becoming an 18-year-old teenager with no girlfriend, no real friends, and for whom tying shoes was a struggle.

Because being overweight is such a painful reality, I think some people tend to find excuses: “I have big bones,” “It’s genetic,” or “I have a hormonal problem.” And sometimes it’s true, but in most cases, I think being overweight is the result of bad eating habits, not enough exercise, or both. And even if you have to accept this responsibility, it does not make you any less valuable of a person. As a matter of fact, I tend to consider overweight people victims. Yes, you might snack too much sometimes or find excuses to avoid the gym, but this is not due to you having an abnormally large stomach or lower physical abilities. Eating is often compensation for trauma.

In my case, it was an unfortunate, routine doctor’s appointment that started it all. I was six years old and in perfect shape. The quack pediatrician checked me and told my parents, “If he’s not skinny now, he is going to become fat later.” At that very moment, he implanted that idea in my dad’s brain like Leonardo DiCaprio implanted the idea that the world was not real into Marion Cotillard’s head in Inception.

I recall a ski trip with my cousins. It was lunch time and we decide to go to a restaurant. Everybody savoured a raclette except me—my dad forced me to eat salmon with straight beans. I was only 10 and unknowingly, he created a complex in me.

As I said earlier, there’s no guilt to feel about being overweight, whether you’re slightly overweight or obese. However, because it is a disease that can put your life at risk, I’ll never blame someone for wanting me to lose weight. My dad used to tell me, “You know I don’t care about your appearance, as long as you’re healthy.” We live in an era of self-acceptance, which is great, but if you want to change, it’s your right to.

So, if you want to lose weight, here are my Four Fight Commandments (because it will be a fight): First, talk with the people who care about you. Believe me, nothing will bring you more comfort than their support. I know the loneliness of being overweight, and it’s too much pain to endure for one person. Vent as much as you need; they will never judge you and it’ll be a huge load off your shoulders.

Second, talk to a therapist. I know it can be scary. I refused at first, but you must identify your trauma to be able to treat it. A therapist will listen to you and give you a professional and educated opinion.

Third, find the right diet for you. We all have different bodies and taste buds. You have to find, with the help of a dietician, the diet most adapted to your body type and eating habits. Last, if you feel like you can’t do it alone, surgery is one solution. It’s called bariatric surgery: gastric band, sleeve or bypass. These are major and irreversible surgeries, so you want to think twice before going through that. I’ve considered this option, and there is no shame in that.

Don’t get me wrong, it will be a long road, sometimes you will want to quit, but if I did it (and I was a desperate case) everybody can. And don’t forget, whether you are skinny, fat or somewhere in the middle, the only thing that matters is that you are at peace with who you are.

Graphic by @sundaemorningcoffee

Categories
Opinions

A Concordia student’s wake up call

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

One student’s experience as a first-year journalism student and what he has learned

As due dates for finals rear their ugly heads in the nearing weeks, it’s a good time to reflect on my first year at Concordia. When I was accepted into the journalism program, I didn’t think much of it. I didn’t expect it to be hard, because I was in a journalism program in CEGEP. I had this stupid thought that journalism was simple and that I had basically learned all I needed to in CEGEP. Two weeks into my first semester, reality hit me like a freight train. This year, I’ve learned some valuable lessons that came from trial and a whole lot of error.

The first lesson I learned was when we were asked to interview people for a streeter article. I don’t have a problem talking to people one-on-one, but not when I have to engage the conversation, so it was already a rocky start.  When one of the first people I tried to talk to told me to “go away” using more colourful language, morale was pretty low. However, determined to do well on my very first serious assignment of the semester, I kept at it, and sure enough, some people were willing to talk to me. I learned that while not everyone will want to talk to me, people are generally nicer than I think they are, and it’s all about how you approach the conversation.

Another important lesson was to always have a contingency plan. No matter how bulletproof you think your plan A is for an assignment, you always have to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. I recently learned that the hard way, when a topic for a feature story I was going to write fell through just over a week before the due date. Being the ever-so-foolish optimist that I was, I never considered a plan B, because I never considered the possibility that my story might fall apart. I was anxious and stressed out, but my teacher and classmates helped me find a new topic for my article. Everything worked out in the end—but it was a real eye-opener.

The most important lesson wasn’t something I learned from the journalism program, but from applying to another program, creative writing, and failing twice. When I first failed to get into the program, I was shocked; I was sure my writing was good enough to get me admitted. I thought it was simply because I didn’t read the guidelines clearly (I didn’t) and that my rejection had nothing to do with the quality of my portfolio.

When I failed the second time, I reviewed the stories I submitted, and noticed all the amateur mistakes I had made; mistakes that I’d never made before. It was a real wake up call for me. I was so focused on shaping my story the way I wanted that I didn’t consider writing it properly. So confident that I was above making stupid grammatical mistakes, I never bothered to reread them before submitting. Those failures made me realize that no matter how good you think you are at something, that shouldn’t stop you from improving and working hard.

After only one year at Concordia, I have learned a lot about myself, especially what I need to improve. My time studying journalism has taught me to be more diligent, better prepared, but most of all, to never take the easy way out—to always work hard. I hope the following years spent studying here help mould me into a better student and a better person.

Archive Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

Categories
Opinions

My Concordia, my community

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

One student’s experience finishing her studies at Concordia, and what she’s learned

Dear Concordians, when asked to reflect on my time at Concordia, I must admit it took me a while to collect my thoughts. I didn’t know where to begin explaining what Concordia means to me. After spending the past six years as both a Concordia undergraduate and graduate student, and an employee in multiple student services, I could probably sit here and write a novel about what this school has given me, in terms of academic, professional and most of all personal growth. But instead, I will give you the cliff notes version.

If I had to sum it all up in one sentence, I would say Concordia gave me a community. As my time at Concordia comes to an end (for now), I find it difficult to accept leaving such an incredible environment. I have been a Concordia student since 2014, completing my Bachelor of Arts in both Human Environment and Communication and Cultural Studies, and am now nearing the end of my Master’s in Environmental Assessment. Suffice to say, I have experienced my fair share of course registration, midterms and exams. Although I am a nerd, and will probably continue my studies further, the most rewarding part of my Concordia experience happened outside the classroom.

It all started during my undergrad, when I got involved with the Hellenic Student Association, which introduced me to a world of extra-curricular involvement on campus. I quickly realized that I enjoyed interacting with other students from various disciplines, all coming together with a common goal. These interactions exposed me to a whole roster of clubs and associations to join, ranging from program-specific student associations under ASFA, to the Inter-Fraternity Council and the Zeta Tau Omega Sorority.

Through these experiences, not only did I learn transferable skills like time-management, but I also learned more about myself. I became a productive version of myself and realized that I like keeping myself busy, being involved, interacting with and learning from others, and representing the university through my Concordia pride. This sense of familiarity, belonging and community cultivated during my undergrad was just the beginning.

Being active within the university led me to appreciate the outstanding services, the diverse people and the incredible opportunities available to us all. As soon as I started my graduate degree in 2017, I began working with various academic service departments, such as with the Student Success Centre, the Examinations Office, the Access Centre for Students with Disabilities, GradProSkills, and more. One of my most rewarding roles was as a Welcome Crew Mentor, during which I learned how most services on campus function, which introduced me to the many opportunities Concordia provides.

For this reason, when asked about Concordia by friends who are looking to attend, or when asked for help from people in my personal circle, I cannot stop gushing about what the university offers (it is often times embarrassing… for them, not for me). A major part of the reason I love working at the university is because I believe I had a truly fulfilling undergraduate and graduate experience—learning, growing and evolving as the best version of myself—and I take it as an opportunity to help do the same for current students.

I am grateful for everything the university has taught me. Thank you Concordia! My advice for students who have read all my embarrassing gushing up to this point: take advantage of your time as an undergrad or grad. Dare to step out of your comfort zone and take on opportunities, both the ones that come your way and the ones you must search for, but that are yours for the taking. Make the most of your time at Concordia, get out there and discover what you love doing in the Concordia community and make it yours!

Sincerely,

A Proud Concordian

Archive Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

 

Categories
Opinions

From the inside: An ex-student executive’s perspective

graphic by Ana Bilokin

One student’s take on joining politics at Concordia, and why it might not be worth it

Ah yes, it is that time of the year again—student elections. Can’t you see the hype and the booming level of interest? The crowds surrounding candidates vying to sit as executives on bodies that are supposed to be your representative voices at this school?

If you can’t, then that’s perfectly fine. In fact, you are probably part of what Concordia’s student population has become—apathetic, indifferent and honestly annoyed at the thought of seeing campaign posters shared on Facebook or plastered on the walls of the campuses.

As someone who was once involved in the student politics game, I got to know the good, the bad and the ugly. I got to know the pros and cons, the triumphs and the hardships. I have experienced the toll that it takes on your academics, your sleep cycle, your mental and physical health and close relationships. I would like to use this opportunity to reach out to my fellow students, notably, first years at Concordia.

There has been a great absence in what you really want out of a university experience. Your voices have not been heard nor included in the everyday decision-making process. When I was a first-year student, I never got the chance to get to know my student leaders nor my department and faculty associations. Mind you, my ignorance may have been due to the fact that I didn’t attend Frosh activities, which could’ve been a stepping stone to do that. As a student executive, Frosh and orientation activities were often held as the sole standard in introducing students to university life. However, as time progressed, there was less of an initiative to involve those students—a lost chance to get them interested in student politics.

As I got more involved throughout my studies, I noticed an emerging concentration of power—the same students running for higher positions, including yours truly. At the time, I thought student politics would help boost my skills and talents, and it does. There is no fault in that claim. Student politics teaches resourcefulness, networking and time management while balancing a school schedule and having a job—because student politics doesn’t pay unless you are one of the fortunate few to get elected to a full-time CSU executive position. Being involved also highlights your organizational skills.

Being an insider in this concentration of power would irritate and bother me. I had always wanted an out. As some kept climbing this food chain of power, the negativity and polarization increased. I would stay late working on projects, and ask myself the following questions: “Is this worth it? Should I resign right now and not look back? How much would this matter on a CV?” Doubt and regret started to settle in. I would always finish my mandates, only to start a new one weeks later. I never gave myself a break and to this day, it pains and saddens me.

Imagine if I never got involved in the first place. I would have had better grades, I would have made more friends on the outside than the inside. However, it doesn’t matter anymore. I have no more regrets.

Getting involved in student politics can be a joyous opportunity, especially if you want to make the most out of a university experience. But be extremely forewarned at the immense cost and sacrifice that it entails. One must never give up their own mental peace for the sake of others.

For the election candidates: stand up for yourself, cry if you must and never look back at the hard decisions in life. Your heart will thank you later.

Graphic by Ana Bilokin

Categories
Opinions

The artificial bliss of opioids

Graphic by @spooky_soda

One student’s experience with drug addiction—and why the narrative must change

When I would come home from school, my mom would often tell me to walk the dog. This used to bother me because I hate even the most mundane exercise, but then something changed. In my senior year of high school, I started to walk the dog more often, sometimes without my mom even having to ask.

Unfortunately, my new love of dog-walking had a darker side; it became part of my routine for taking the painkiller Vicodin. Hydrocodone (the active ingredient in Vicodin) is a semi-synthetic opioid, similar to morphine. Morphine comes from the opium poppy, a plant used for decorations, bagel seasoning and heroin production, among other things.

After taking Vicodin and leashing up the dog, I would hike through the hills of my native Oregon. About half an hour into the walk, my worries of the day would begin to fade, and a sense of relaxation would overcome me. At that stage in my addiction, the pills did not impair me; in fact they helped me navigate my daily life with more ease and greater joy.

My affair with opioid painkillers (not to be confused with over-the-counter ibuprofen or Tylenol) started with a headache. Earlier in the school year, I had come home one day with a throbbing headache. I drank some water, and when that did not work, I took an aspirin. A few hours later, my head was still pounding. Out of desperation, I went into my mom’s purse and took one of her Vicodins.

At the time, I did not know how dangerous Vicodin is. I thought it was just a super strong Tylenol. My mom was recovering from surgery and had been prescribed the drug. Ironically, my grandmother, who had come from Los Angeles to take care of my mom, broke her collarbone on the flight up and left the hospital with her own 90-pill prescription. Both my mom and grandmother hated taking painkillers; this left an abundant supply for me.

When I took my first Vicodin, I was stage managing a school production involving 300 people. It was a terrific but stressful job; the Vicodin not only took away my headache but freed me from my worries.

A critical point is that my addiction could have been avoided if physicians had been more aware of the dangers of opioids at the time. Had that been the case, my mom and grandmother wouldn’t have been prescribed enormous quantities of opioids. Had there been safer prescribing practices in place, perhaps my addiction would never have started.

After that first pill, I did not take another one for a few days. Slowly, I began to develop excuses to use them—if my mom wasn’t going to take them, why should they go to waste? I developed a tolerance after a few weeks and started taking two pills to get high. Being high on painkillers isn’t like being high on other drugs. I could still function, attend school and go about my life, but everything just felt better. Nothing bothered me. I felt confident, and a warm sensation enveloped my body. At the time, I did not consider myself to be abusing drugs, and I was oblivious to this destructive pattern.

As time passed, I began to get careless. After months of a constant opioid buzz, I forgot what it felt like to be sober. Vicodin began to make me aggressive, and I started to yell more often at the actors and crew I managed at work. I stopped caring about everything, and my A in chemistry plunged to a dangerous C-. At home, my parents seemed none the wiser about my habit, and I took extraordinary steps to hide my pill-popping.

The gravy train came to an end when the pills ran out six months later. Taking the last pill in the bottle felt like a sacred event—the end of a relationship I believed I could handle on my own. Within hours, I had called my mom who was in Albuquerque. We got in an argument, and I blurted out that I had used all of her painkillers and needed help because I felt terrible. She started sobbing and flew home the next day.

My parents helped me access the resources and treatment I needed. Growing up, I never suffered from any serious mental health issues, but following my opioid use, I turned into a depressed, anxious mess. There were medications to treat my ailments, but they could only do so much. My first moments of sobriety were difficult as I mourned the end of my relationship with Vicodin. The drug turned the most mundane moments into extraordinary ones. Losing that perpetual excitement took months to get used to, and to this day, I miss the months I spent in artificial bliss.

No one wakes up one morning and decides they want to become addicted to drugs. Stealing drugs or causing my family heartache horrifies me. Opioids had an amazing capacity to mute my moral compass. Getting high no longer became something to relieve stress, but rather a necessity to remain functional and have the ability to experience happiness. Once this emotional shield began to fade, things that used to bother me enraged me; moments that hurt me devastated me and life felt like a mission without a goal.

In learning how to live without opioids, I had my “aha” moment. Most users are not lazy; they’re not failures or junkies—they are just like you and me. Often, they are just more sensitive or perhaps suffer from a mental illness.

Unfortunately, the stigma against those who suffer from substance abuse remains static with little to no improvement in public compassion. It took becoming addicted for me to realize it’s time we must shift our mentality and try to help instead of judge. Although I chose to tell my story anonymously, I hope a day will come when someone can write an article like this without hesitating to reveal who they are. Those who fight daily to stay sober ought to be celebrated as the warriors they are.

Graphic by @spooky_soda

Categories
Opinions

Your undergrad is a marathon, not a sprint

Graphic by Ana Bilokin

Learning how to find your own pace in completing your degree and enjoying the ride

Every semester, around the time of fall and spring graduation, I get uncontrollably excited. It brings me back to June 2017 when I crossed the Concordia convocation stage for the first time. It was definitely a bittersweet moment. Bitter, because, as you near the end of your degree, you still may be unsure about what to do next. Having already graduated once and looking forward to my next graduation in June, I can assure you that the feeling is normal.

But that’s a topic for a different article. I am here to talk to you about the sweet feeling of achievement. Of accomplishment. The satisfying feeling of completing something you’ve given so much of your time to, that has taken the last four years of your life.

What makes it so sweet though? In the memories you’ll look back on from those four years, what will come to mind? Will you think of the tears you shed and the all-nighters you pulled? Maybe. Will you think of how much of a coffee addict you’ve become? Definitely. But then comes everything else. Trust me when I say all those non-academic memories will put the biggest smile on your face.

Keep in mind that everything outside the classroom is just as important as what goes on inside. But while you’re an undergrad, it’s easy to get lost in your books, and the pressure to finish your degree as quickly as possible can be strong. It’s important to recognize that sometimes life gets in the way, and that’s OK. I’d like to share with you some insight as to why it’s absolutely crucial to take your time and finish your degree at your own pace.

Remember, university is not a race. There seems to be this preconceived notion that if you don’t finish your degree in the minimum allotted time, you won’t succeed as a student or in life. Wrong. There is no time limit. Although you may feel pressure to graduate as soon as possible, remember the only person working for your degree is you. Find a pace that suits you.

Remember, you’re here to learn. You’re attending university because you want to be here, so there shouldn’t be a timer. Rushing through your degree too quickly will leave you more confused than when you started. Take the time you need to retain all you’re learning and ensure your experience is not one big blur.

Remember, the path isn’t linear. Part of the pressure to watch the clock while completing your degree comes from the outside. External expectations to pick a field early on and jump into the workforce immediately are bogus. Now is the time to explore different subjects and find your passion. Just because you chose one field doesn’t mean you’re not meant to do another, and it surely doesn’t mean you can’t do another. If you don’t like your program, change it. If you’re adventurous, take a page from my book: do a double major and master two fields you’re interested in at once. The options are endless, and they’re all yours for the taking.

Remember to find your balance. Make sure to take advantage of the undergraduate experience. When life gets in the way of your studies, take it as a blessing. Find the silver lining. These four years are an opportunity for you to grow both intellectually and socially. You will learn so much about yourself as a student and from other students, so enjoy everything

Concordia has to offer. Get involved, join a sports team or student association, meet other interesting people. Step outside of your discipline and your comfort zone. Now, as you approach the milestone achievement of graduation, and when you walk across that convocation stage, I hope you look back on some of the memories that put a smile on your face. When you do look back on your three or four years as an undergrad student, your experience will leave the biggest impression. So take all the time you need. Don’t rush the journey, and enjoy the ride.

Graphic by Ana Bilokin

Categories
Opinions

Knowing when to skip the damn party

Graphic by Ana Bilokin

University lifestyles often promote binge drinking, but how do we know when to stop?

In April 2017, I made the decision to take a break from partying. No more frantically clearing my schedule for an event in fear of missing out (FOMO). No more rushing to clubs at midnight, hoping to meet someone special on the dance floor. No more anxious cab rides holding in a queasy stomach. No more making excuses for an activity I never really enjoyed.

Of course, it took me years to realize I don’t actually like partying. I used to be one of those people who hyped my friends up; I’d hear an electronic dance music song on the radio during the day and remember a time the DJ dropped it at 2 a.m. Immediately, I’d get this overwhelming itch to gather everyone I knew on any dance floor. Oh, and to drink half a bottle of spiced rum by myself.

This was until the day I finally accepted that this behaviour was squeezing the life out of me. From anxiety to disappointment, the majority of my nights always drifted into gloom. I mean, sure, there were those exceptional moments of hilarity, hype or authentic conversation that made me think going out that night was worth it. Those exceptions kept me coming back for more and, ultimately, had me romanticizing a toxic lifestyle.

Partying is an integral activity in university culture, and for many, it’s a source of freedom. However, that’s not always the case. How could it be, when alcohol is a depressant, clubs are loud and crowded, and drunk actions are typically frivolous and forgotten? For old souls, pouring time and energy into a lifestyle that provides fleeting satisfaction is more draining than fulfilling.

If you’re constantly making excuses for the negative emotions you experience during or after a night out, I urge you to take a step back from partying. Don’t overlook your feelings in the name of being “hungover,” or thinking that you’re simply “too sensitive.” Don’t blame a bad night on logistics, like a cheap venue or crappy weather—it’s quite possible that, like me, partying just doesn’t cut it for you.

One great way to assess whether you should party less is to make a list of your top 10 life memories—moments you remember fondly and would relive in a heartbeat. How many of them happened during a night of binge drinking? If the answer is less than five, I’d say party in moderation; that list is proof you won’t be missing out.

If you’re still unsure, consider this: in 2014, a study about drinking habits around the world found there’s a whole slew of millennials who don’t actually enjoy binge drinking; and no, it’s not because they’re under some repressive religious or political regime. I’m talking about countries like France, Italy, Spain—places plenty of North American millennials dream of visiting. In these cultures, the majority of university students actually think drunkenness kind of sucks. The nausea, irreversible texts and embarrassing mishaps all make the idea of losing inhibition much less appealing. These millennials don’t owe each other explanations as to why they’re not overdoing it. They’re free to go to the party without actually partying.

How does one do that, you ask? Well, here are a few tips: don’t stay out too late. Drink less. Go out with people who like you when you’re sober; go out with people you like sober. And before going anywhere, ask yourself why you’re going. If FOMO is the reason, just skip the damn party.

Graphic by Ana Bilokin

 

Categories
Opinions

If Concordia classroom walls could talk

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin.

Women have spoken about this “open secret” before

I recently had a conversation in which my friend declared his surprise that sexual misconduct, the same thing that sparked the Hollywood mega-scandal, occurred in the microcosm of our university. I did not understand this reaction any more than I did when I opened an email from Concordia president Alan Shepard last week. In the email, Shepard stated how “disturbed” he was by the allegations of sexual misconduct made against faculty members.

As news story after news story breaks, I find myself increasingly suspicious of the surprised reactions coming from the heads of host institutions. The way individual cases are framed as “scandals” undermines the severity of the issue of sexual misconduct as a whole, relegating it to isolated incidents committed by bad people, rather than a chronic, social malady. This culture that perpetuates sexual misconduct was created and functions based on the very behaviour now denounced as “scandalous.” If we can agree that women have been systematically oppressed throughout history, then why are cases of sexual misconduct often viewed as one-time, “scandalous” occurrences?

It should be no “open secret” that women have always faced varying shades of sexual misconduct across all professions and within all social institutions. The teacher-student dynamic offers an extra level of vulnerability; I can’t help but feel like I’ve fallen into a terrible trap every time I receive an unsolicited sexual or otherwise inappropriate comment from a teacher who is too friendly for the wrong reasons.

I know too many of my peers have found themselves in these situations and worse. We often carry into the classroom the same anxiety, the same enduring mentality of self-preservation we feel when walking alone at night.
To deny knowledge of these allegations proves only greater faults in the university’s administration. Women have long been trying to speak out about what has only now become a front-page scandal. For Concordia’s president to say he will “respond effectively when it does happen” and yet only respond when a male former student retrospectively declares remorse for having witnessed it—this only reinforces a system that effectively silences or ignores women when they try to speak up about their experiences.

A thorough investigation is a place to start, however overdue it may be, because merely being “shocked” and “disturbed” is not nearly enough to change an institution and the toxic culture that pervades it.

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin

Categories
Arts

Showcasing talent from concept to performance

Caitlin Stever (left) and Eli Gale, both theatre and development students at Concordia, took part in this year’s One-Act Play Festival. Photo by Maggie Hope.

Concordia theatre students discuss One-Act Play rehearsals and learning experience

Members of Concordia’s theatre program delivered engaging, heart-wrenching, captivating performances as the department’s One-Act Play Festival brought four plays to life from Nov. 3 through 11.

The theatre department’s second edition of the festival featured well-known contemporary Canadian and absurdist work, as well as pieces constructed by the students themselves. Students across the entire program took part in productions of Beckett Shorts, If We Were Birds, The Freddie Stories and Love In Seven Languages. They applied to be in the festival at the end of last year’s winter term, were assigned to one of the four plays and auditioned for specific roles. From there, workshops and rehearsals were held up until opening day. The One-Act Play Festival is a public performance project (known as a PPP in the theatre department). PPPs give students the option to take part in projects to gain experience and academic credits.

Beckett Shorts

Beckett Shorts is comprised of six short plays written by legendary absurdist playwright Samuel Beckett. The cast was divided into groups of two or three, and each group performed one of the pieces. In each short, the stage was mostly dark and very minimally lit, sometimes only for a moment. According to the performance’s pamphlet, “Beckett’s work offers a bleak, tragicomic outlook on human existence.”

The spoken aspects of the performances conveyed raw human emotion while leaving the viewer to puzzle over what exactly they had witnessed. Short, sporadic outbursts paired with prolonged silences created an engaging and at times unsettling experience. This is a key characteristic of Beckett’s work. In the show’s program, director Clea Minaker wrote that “to step inside of any one of these ‘Beckettian’ compositions [is] also to submit oneself to an ‘authored’ body.” In Beckett Shorts, the cast and crew surrendered themselves to expression in absurdity.

If We Were Birds

Like Beckett Shorts, If We Were Birds stuck quite closely to the original play (written by Erin Shields). The piece, however, would definitely be described as more conventional theatre, as Johan DeNora, a third-year theatre performance student pointed out. If We Were Birds deals with extremely brutal and intense subject matter, and viewers were warned about scenes of infanticide, misogyny and sexual violence. When asked if performing such subject matter seemed daunting or intimidating, fifth-year theatre performance student Arianna Markle said she was actually empowered by being able to tell the story. “For me it was, ‘I want to be that voice,’” she said. “There are the experiences of so many women standing behind me, beside me, with me and through me [in this role]. It’s humbling for sure.” Markle added that she finds the play to be especially relevant due to the recent increase in discussion about cases of sexual violence.

Maureen Adelson, a second-year acting student, initially found it hard to approach her role as Bleeding, because she has “never gone through anything as traumatic and as tragic” as what her character endures in the piece. After doing some research on the historic events that the character was based off of, however, Adelson said her mindset changed and she became determined to tell her character’s story.

DeNora added that he is extremely pleased with the work the entire ensemble put into the production, especially given it was such an intense piece. “This is a lot of heavy material for people who are still training, and there’s always a fear of not giving it the respect it deserves,” he said. “I’m so glad that we have managed to get it to a point where I think it really is respectful and important.”

The Freddie Stories

The Freddie Stories was adapted from a graphic novel by Lynda Barry and converted into a theatre piece by the ensemble and crew. Also directed by Minaker, the play follows a young boy named Freddie who struggles with mental disabilities. It takes the audience through the boy’s daily life, revealing that he gets bullied by classmates and abused by his mother. This piece effectively deals with intense themes while presenting a lightheartedness that could only be expressed through young characters.

Emma Corber, a fourth-year theatre major, said that because her group started without a set script, they spent most of their rehearsal time in workshops determining how to convert the novel into a theatre piece. Though at times the process was rushed and stressful, Corber insisted this experience allowed her to grow as a performer in ways she had never been able to in previous productions. The piece incorporates puppetry and mask work, which were new disciplines for most of the cast, she added.

Caitlin Stever, a third-year theatre and development student, was immediately interested in The Freddie Stories and was tasked with the job of stage manager. “Talking about childhood trauma through the lens of childhood is super interesting to me,” she said. Stever found the entire adaptation process extremely challenging, but was also able to exercise her creative abilities to a great degree. “A hundred per cent of my energy, and my whole human force and thought and emotion have been put into this show because of that collaborative process that demanded so much of me, and I’d say a lot of the actors felt that same way,” Stever said.

Love In Seven Languages

Sketches of the costume designs for Love In Seven Languages by Aurora Torok. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

The ensemble of Love In Seven Languages were also very involved in the creation of the piece, from writing the script to developing its overarching themes. Preliminary workshops were held where the students would brainstorm ideas together and develop their collective vision for the play. “Most of our lines [in the piece], someone said at some point in a writing exercise,” according to third-year theatre and development student Eli Gale. “It’s a little spooky.” Gale said being so involved in the creative process allowed each performer to feel especially connected to the part they play. “When you’re acting in a character that is so close to your own reality, how do you separate what is and what isn’t there?” she asked.

This piece was not advised for viewers under the age of 18 because of mature content and mentions of suicide. The story follows seven royal siblings who are locked in a room of their father’s castle and are never allowed to leave. When they become of-age, the siblings are told they will be married off one by one, which causes them to consider drastic measures in order to escape.

Aurora Torok, the designer of the show, worked closely with literature the play was based off of to construct a minimal but stunning setting. She began designs for the set and costumes in the summer, and worked alongside the cast and crew until the performances began. “There are so many challenges that come with it,” Torok said. “But the fact that the designers were ready to take them all on was fantastic.”

 

Feature photo by Maggie Hope

Exit mobile version