Luz Adriana Monsalve’s decision to adopt a pet changed her life in more ways than she ever imagined. An Engineering student at Concordia, the adoption of her dog helped Monsalve get through the pandemic.
“At first it was actually terrifying because we first got our dog at the beginning of quarantine. I quickly realized that I was in a building of more than a thousand people. I was going up and down the elevator two to three times a day to walk my dog. So, I would be exposed to a lot of people,” Monsalve explained.
Since March of 2020, there has been a surge of animal adoptions. Many shelters around the city are running out of animals to put up for adoption.
Maria Garcia, an administrator at Refuge Zen in Laval, a shelter for stray animals, explained, “Over the pandemic, people have been adopting animals left and right. As soon as we post a picture of the animal on our Facebook page, they immediately get adopted a few days later.”
Monsalve explained the process she had to go through with the SPCA to adopt her dog. Following hygiene measures, the SPCA sets up an interview with the prospective adoptive parents of the animals. Based on the living situation, the lifestyle of the adoptive parents, the SPCA links you to a certain breed of dog or cat.
According to an article written by Health Affairs, “The struggle to balance literal survival with all the things that make surviving worthwhile has never been so clear, with the COVID-19 pandemic forcing many to sacrifice social connections — and therefore quality of life — for life itself.” One measure that has been helping many is pet therapy.
Medical News Today describes an effect produced by humans interacting with animals as the ‘human-animal bond.’ What this bond means exactly is the human desire to relate to animals.
The article further explains the bond itself helps people by “reducing boredom, increasing movement and activity through walks and play, providing companionship and decreasing loneliness, increasing social interaction, and improving mood and general well-being.”
Every person has a specific need for a therapy animal. Based on the type of therapy needed, the article outlines some of the goals set out for pet therapy, such as “providing comfort and reducing levels of pain, improving movement or motor skills, developing social or behavioral skills, and increasing motivation towards activities such as exercising or interacting with others.”
Emmalyne Laperle, a Sociology student at Concordia, explains her experience adopting her cat. She adopted her cat through the organization Chatopia in September of 2020.
“Since my cat is a pure breed Persian cat, he was used for breeding. He was forced to breed. Some people that I talked to ask[ed] me ‘what’s the big deal? He just has to get female cats pregnant and have babies.’ But the fact is, regardless if he’s having the babies or not, he was kept in an environment that was really harmful. When we got him, he was so stressed that he had patches of fur missing,” Laperle recalled.
Laperle explained that it took a while for her cat to warm up to her and her significant other. For the first couple of weeks, her cat felt uneasy when she would go to pick him up. However, after some time passed, the cat grew a beautiful new coat of fur and the patches are no longer there.
As much as it’s great to give an animal a home, most people do not truly realize the great responsibility that comes with adopting an animal.
“As much as it’s amazing to adopt a dog, it’s a lot of time commitment. A big-money commitment if something goes wrong. They could have a big vet bill,” Monsalve explained.
Pet therapy is a wonderful avenue during this uncertain time, however, it needs to be proceeded with caution. As we are trying to social distance from one another, pets provide companionship and a good distraction from the world around us.
Monsalve, referring to her dog sitting right next to her during a Zoom interview, said, “This dude is my best friend, he’s been a huge company to me throughout the pandemic and I think I would’ve felt really lonely without him.”
Gabriel Lanthier, Responsible for the 16 km large Biology Station of Laurentides, owned by the University of montreal, in the Lower Laurentians, 75 km north of Montreal, on Tuesday, November 10, 2020. As of 2009, the area is protected as a “biodiversity reserve” by the Quebec government. (Photo by Simona Rosenfield)
While many Canadians suffer the toll of social isolation, one man spends six months working in near-total solitude every year, and loves it. Experts explain why.
“I’m able to see in my six months of ‘solitude’ something super positive. It takes time. The first weeks when I’m alone here, it’s strange,” says Gabriel Lanthier, in his fourth year as manager of the University of Montreal’s Laurentian Biology Station. In this role, he spends November until May working alone at the rural site, managing, repairing, and maintaining the 16.4 square kilometres of land.
In turn, during the summer season, it’s all hands on deck, as Lanthier manages a team of eight who run the site that houses many active research experiments and University of Montreal classes, hosts students who are writing theses, and rents the space out to private events.
Lanthier monitors an ongoing research project that assesses the impact of a 3 degree increase in soil temperature on vegetation growth long-term, as compared to the present soil temperature levels. In 2009, the Quebec Government announced that a 28 square kilometer plot of land, which includes the Laurentians Biology Station, would become a protected territory as a “biodiversity reserve”. Here, researchers mainly in biology and geography, conduct experiments. Between 1967 and 2014, researchers concluded 33 doctoral theses and 164 masters theses at the site.
Why does he love solitude?
“We underestimate in everyday life our need for space, for tranquility. We’re all on a rolling train.” He continues, “People often stop at the point where they’re about to break. The hard end.”
Lanthier was hired to work in an isolated region in the Lower Laurentians, 75 kilometres north of Montreal, where he lives with his partner and their two children. His lifestyle for the winter months — quiet, solitary, and slowed down — reflects the “new normal” introduced by social distancing laws enforced in Quebec, especially for remote workers, to curb the spread of COVID-19.
Lanthier cuts down trees that obstruct a trail in the woods of the site. “Working alone, the job is super varied,” says Lanthier. “If it’s a problem with personnel, if it’s a problem with clients, if it’s a problem with scheduling, or a problem with the machinery we have, doing reparations. All year I solve different problems. That’s my job.”
According to Statistics Canada, the percentage of Canadians experiencing poor mental health has tripled to 24 per cent since 2018, and young people are hit hardest over recent social distancing measures. Further, “Over half of participants report that their mental health has worsened since the onset of physical distancing,” according to the study.
Burnout culture is not a new phenomenon. In response to a rise in stress and burnout among Canadian labourers, Quebec has been working to expand its legislation protecting worker’s health to include mental health as well, according to Canada’s Occupational Health and Safety Magazine.
Recently, experts have warned of the psychological strain that essential workers face during this time, which can ultimately lead to greater risk as employees, facing exhaustion, are more susceptible to mistakes.
According to a Statistics Canada report, those with the most education are more likely to hold positions that can be done from home, illustrating that “The risk of experiencing a work interruption during the pandemic might fall disproportionately on financially vulnerable families.” Further, it poses the dilemma for those working in low-paid, high contact industries, such as the service industry or factory work, whether or not to absorb high risks by working in person.
So, is solitude really the culprit of this swelling unwellness, or is it merely a symptom of something else?
Lanthier attributes his wellness in the face of solitary winters to three things — he likes his job, he works outside, and he slows down.
Lanthier walks along the trails of the site, which has 7 lakes, and multiple rivers and streams passing through. “I think we underestimate in the everyday life, our need for space. The need for tranquility,” says Lanthier. “The only advice I’ve got: go outside, take in the air, and especially during Covid, put on your running shoes and go jogging 10 minutes. 10 minutes will change your day.”
Meaningful work is a central factor to job satisfaction. That and “mastering, leadership, balance, influence, achievements and colleagues,” according to the Happiness Research Insititue’s 2019 Job Satisfaction Index.
This research studies Danes’ work satisfaction, identifying three main issues that workers faced in 2019 — managing the “work-life balance,” “stress,” and fostering a “sense of identity from their job.” The research found that meaningful work offers labourers a stronger sense of job satisfaction, which in turn heightens their happiness.
“Me, I’m in paradise,” says Lanthier. “I’m sure it’s not the same situation if you ask me to work in a four-and-a-half, no windows, semi-basement, for eight hours in front of a computer. I would not have the same appreciation of isolation than what I have.”
According to the theory of logotherapy developed by psychiatrist and neurologist Viktor Frankl, humans derive happiness from meaning — through purposeful work, relationships, or suffering, as explained in his book, “Man’s Search for Meaning,” first published in 1946.
The connection between human happiness and meaningful work has a long history, with a body of research behind it. Sustainability is a welcome recent addition to the conversation by experts in happiness.
“I really think a sustainable economy needs to be built on meaningful work,” says economic historian Dr. Kent Klitgaard. “I don’t think you can have this kind of degraded job that everybody hates and you do it just to buy consumption goods that wear out quickly and don’t make you happy.”
The principle that we can be happier if we work less and slow down is on the rise amongst professionals working to scale back human consumption and invest more in well-being.
“We can have better lives, I’m convinced, with a lot less material and energy consumption,” says environmental economist Dr. Christian Kerschner.
The connections between slowing down, engaging in environmentally sustainable activities, consuming less, and happiness are detailed in a United Nations commissioned Sustainable Happiness report, conducted by The Happiness Research Institute.
According to the report, “The literature on voluntary simplicity provides abundant illustrations of persons who, by virtue of engaging in simpler lives, experience increased feelings of satisfaction and meaning. In other words: less stuff equals more happiness.”
“We have been very comfortable materially, but also if you look at our society’s emotional and psychological health,” says Kerschner, “we are not doing so well.”
What does meaningful work have to do with consumption? Since technology has replaced many — largely manual — jobs across industries, economies have found new uses for this labour force. These jobs tend to be mundane, dead-end, monotonous, with tight deadlines.
“I ask myself at what point is it healthy for the human mind? Something very routine — like a recipe — already established. Every day, 40 hours per week, for 20 years?” Lanthier asks. “Put it in an isolating mold, all alone, I would go crazy.”
Among his varied duties, Lanthier is responsible for doing office work, such as bookkeeping, managing staff during the summer, and confirming reservations with clients. “I’m a bit of a hybrid between intellectual and manual and that’s what I found in this job,” says Lanthier. With an undergraduate degree in psychology, and a master’s degree in biology, Lanthier finds this position taps into both studies. “I believe you don’t just learn things in school. In touching, in trying, in failures also, that’s all a part of learning. When things don’t work, we learn,” says Lanthier. “My work gives me the opportunity to touch on very diverse things and I learn every day.”
The duality of Lanthier’s job — a busy summer followed by a quiet winter — taps into his need for a challenge, change, and allows him to grow his skills manually as well as interpersonally.
While routine is a very healthy practice to maintain both bodily and mental health, Lanthier has a point. A job where you do the same thing every day limits how much you can learn or be challenged. “For work to be meaningful, it needs to stimulate me, fill my life,” says Lanthier. “My work needs to help me grow, evolve, progress.”
“There’s studies that show people in the U.S. are working more hours on average than any generation before. So that leads
As part of his duties, Lanthier walks the trails located on the reserve, taking note of any evidence of animal activity, such as canine tracks. He also searches for evidence of human activity, which is forbidden, to ensure the preservation of the land and protection of any research taking place.
to the question,” Kerschner elaborates. “Is this really life? Is this really wellbeing?”
Some are finding their wellbeing comes from an active engagement with community and sustainability.
One collective-living community in Denmark began to examine the food waste in their home. With a separate trash can for food, the residents can see “direct proof of what food waste costs them each month and what they save by reducing such waste,” according to the Sustainable Happiness report. With less waste-based financial strain, workers need to earn less money and work less hours to afford a high quality of life.
Kerschner hopes that through this experience in social isolation, collectively, society can work to strengthen community ties, and register how important connection is for our health and happiness. When we liberate our time by working a little less, we create more time for the things that matter to us, connecting with our communities, and helping each other.
There is an understanding in mainstream social consciousness that sustainability is incompatible with abundance. On the contrary, cultivating abundance does not need to be expensive.
The Sustainable Happiness report stresses, “To completely unleash happiness potential, it is important to dispense with myths and misconceptions such as the false choice between sustainability and happiness.”
Through community initiatives, sharing, and connecting, abundance can be very cost-efficient, sustainable, and joyous.
Photos by Simona Rosenfield, taken on December 2, 2020
Quebec’s second lockdown, which began in October, has been a devastating blow to business owners all over the province. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “Public health actions, such as social distancing, can make people feel isolated and lonely and can increase stress and anxiety.”
Due to COVID-19 restrictions, restaurant owners have only been allowed to open for takeout. As much as it’s been a financial burden for many restaurant owners to be unable to offer dine-in services, it remains a question as to how restaurant owners deal with their own mental health issues — on top of keeping their businesses afloat during this global pandemic.
Dino Angelo Luciano, an accomplished chef, moved to Montreal shortly after his win on season 8 of MasterChef. Originally from California, Luciano’s journey has been quite inspiring. As a result of Luciano’s large Instagram presence, he not only uses his platform to show his cooking skills, but he also advocates for mental health awareness. In a video on his Instagram, he explained that he has struggled from a young age with OCD, paired with anxiety and depression.
In a Zoom interview, Luciano explained that he remembers dealing with OCD from a very young age.
“I think I remember being around seven years old, that’s when I was the most conscious of what I was doing, who was around me, where I was living. The first thing I was doing was turning off the waterspout in the bathtub. I would do it over and over again, flick it on and off. I don’t know why I did it, I think it made me feel good. I think my parents always thought I was just messing around.”
Luciano’s mental health struggles followed him during the taping of MasterChef. “I had my little ticks here and there, like let’s say I had to cut something twice, like if I had to cut an onion at a certain angle. When you are cutting an onion, you’re dicing it up and you maybe get nine to 14 slices. Maybe I had a certain number in my mind, and I would cut the onion x number of slices,” Luciano explained.
After his move to Montreal, Luciano recounted that he always dreamed of opening a restaurant.
“I believe in manifestation, fate is written. I think we have the ability to control destiny and certain things happen at certain times. I came up here three years ago, October 2017. I met a lot of people, maybe not the right people at the time. They helped me build my knowledge on the culture of Montreal. As much as I wanted to open up something a long time ago, I don’t think I was mentally ready for it.”
He put his focus into his cannoli business instead, called ‘The Fat Cannoli.’ His business had done pretty well at the time however, he left this business behind and focused on his dream of opening the restaurant.
During the second lockdown in Montreal, Luciano explained that he wasn’t worried about the state of his future business.
“I could care less about my own stress at this point, the stress of opening a restaurant, ‘it might fail, we might hemorrhage money, we might not, we might fail.’ Actually, we’re doing pretty well at the moment. But even if we weren’t, the joy of making people happy with food was satisfying enough for me. I know during the first wave, I was going crazy, and I think one of the only things that was making me happy was ordering a lot of take out,” Luciano recalled. He explained that if he can offer the same joy to others, it would make everything well worth it.
No one human is perfect and everyone has their dark moments. However, who does Luciano turn to when things get tough?
“I don’t really talk about the dark thoughts too much, sometimes it manifests into my moods and makes me very grouchy and moody. My girlfriend mainly has to deal with that and she’s my number one supporter.” Luciano said that when his mind goes to the dark place, his girlfriend is able to bring him back.
“I have a secret that got me through this pandemic. You’re forced to be alone and a lot of people are watching Netflix… pay attention to those actors in those movies. When you’re forced to be away from everybody, you kinda get to develop who you want to be … By the time you go out again you can surprise people with who you have become.” Luciano says that the pandemic has been a time for self-growth and reflection, and believes that if people don’t take this as an opportunity to learn more about themselves, another opportunity will be less likely to present itself in the near future.
Push for funding of mental health services after SPVM kills another Black man
Protesters held a demonstration on Nov. 7 seeking justice for Sheffield Matthews, a Black man who was fatally shot last week by police in Montreal. The protest called for the defunding of police and the reallocation of funds to mental health intervention teams that are trained to de-escalate people in crisis.
Black Lives Matter and the Defund the Police Coalition organized the rally that took place in Trenholme Park in the Notre-Dame-de-Grâce neighbourhood.
Protestor at the Defund the Police protest sign points to the fact police were called because Sheffield Matthews was in distress
“I’ve had enough. I’m angered, I’m triggered, I’m just sad and annoyed that this keeps happening right in our backyards,” Antonia Haywood, a protester at the demonstration, told The Concordian. “When there’s a crisis involved, I don’t think the police should be there … we need people trained in crisis intervention and mental health to be present in times like these.”
Early last Thursday morning, police responded to a call of a man in crisis in NDG. When they arrived on scene, they reported seeing a Black man holding a knife near a civilian car. When the man came towards their squad car, police alleged that the man lunged at them with the knife and they shot him seven times, killing him.
Sue Montgomery, mayor of the borough Côte-des-Neiges—Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, said she’s attending the protest in solidarity with Black Lives Matter.
“It’s a tragic, senseless loss of life and I’m here to stand side by side with the Black community,” said Montgomery. “It’s clear there’s systemic racism in this city.”
Julien Lévesque, a spokesperson for the SPVM, said he had no comment on the killing of Matthews or response to the calls by protestors to defund the police. He said he supports the right for demonstrators to stage a protest, as long as it’s done safely.
Remy Gibbs, whose uncle was shot and killed by police two years ago in the same neighbourhood, spoke to the crowd in the park. Gibbs contrasted the killing of Matthews to the police’s treatment of Carl Girouard.
Girouard, who’s white, slayed two people and injured five with a sword in Quebec City this past Halloween. He was talked down and left unharmed by police.
Protestor wore an earring with the acronym ACAB, which stands for “All Cops are Bastards”
“Sheffield Matthews supposedly had a knife and was still murdered after he didn’t kill anybody [which] is a sign that systemic racism does exist,” said Gibbs, megaphone in hand.
Hundreds of people cheered after each speech was made. Demonstrators chanted “No justice no peace, defund the police!” and “Black lives matter! Black lives matter!”
After the speakers finished, the organizers led the protest to the streets as the chants carried on. Protesters banged pots, others whistled, and many held up their fists as they blocked traffic from passing through. The protesters marched to the corner of Côte-Saint-Luc Road and West Hill Avenue where the shooting took place.
Several people placed bouquets of flowers at the spot where Matthews was killed. One man said he picked flowers from his garden.
“It’s Montreal standing up to injustice,” Egbert Gaye told The Concordian. Gaye is the founder of Community Contact, a newspaper that covers Black and Caribbean issues in Quebec.
“Police have a weak point in dealing with two things: Black people and mental health,” said Gaye.
The Bureau des enquêtes indépendantes (BEI), an internal provincial organization that conducts independent investigations when someone is seriously injured or shot by police, is still investigating the death.
You may wonder: what is Dissociation and why should I vote for it as Class President?
Vote for Dissociation 2020! Big D is a potentially helpful, potentially harmful way to experience major trauma like a global pandemic. Dissociation has a wide network of friends of all ages who use it to cope with the stress in their lives, and it wants to introduce itself to you! Don’t be shy. Dissociation is just looking to say hi, talk a bit about itself, and help you learn to identify its characteristics so that you can stay in good health throughout this stressful time!
Hi, I’m Dissociation, and I’m a defense mechanism that human beings exhibit as a response to trauma. I have three main branches, but this election campaign will highlight and examine just one of my sides: the depersonalization-derealization disorder (DDD for short).
DDD is a trauma response that presents as a “sense of detachment or being outside yourself,” according to the Mayo Clinic. If you find yourself removed from experiencing your thoughts, feelings, and actions firsthand, and are instead watching them occur like in a movie, you may be experiencing DDD.
“I generally think dissociation is understood as on a spectrum from daydreaming, reveries, getting very lost in a task, which can be super healthy,” says social worker and psychotherapist, Jeremy Wexler, of the Montreal Therapy Centre. “It’s highly adaptive,” Wexler continues, “except when it becomes too much or is over functioning or is preventing people from using other ways of coping.”
Considering my positive traits, as above described, I implore that you consider voting for me. I do my best to help people in hard times.
In a time of great stress and agitation, like in a global pandemic, it is normal that people will work out new ways to cope, but it’s important that those coping strategies are good for your health, and reinforce your sense of wellbeing.
When the brain forms a habit, such as a repeated response to a stimulus, it forges and strengthens that connection in the brain. Then, the brain will continue reinforcing that neural pathway by repeating the connection.
For example, if you bite your nails in a moment of stress to calm or distract yourself, you’re creating a connection in the brain between calming agitation and biting your nails. Next time you’re feeling agitated, and you bite your nails, you will fortify the habit. Then, in the future, if you are in a stressful situation, you are more likely to bite your nails then too.
“Dissociation may be part of a fight, flight or freeze response that people have,” says Wexler. “[People who experience dissociation] may become more prone to it and experience it as adaptive. So it becomes a reflex that is reinforced over time. It might be useful to think of it as a reflex.”
Evidently, I am very adaptable, and am always ready to come help during times of stress. Consider me, Dissociation, to lead you through 2020, in brief moments of daydreaming here or there, as you navigate a global health crisis.
I, your humble candidate, am the body’s attempt to help people cope with stress and trauma. Good intentions aside, I can also exacerbate harm instead of muting it, which I want to be transparent about.
With that said, there are some instances when I can be a helpful resource too, so long as you experience me on the milder end of my spectrum. If you experience my more severe symptoms, please reach out to loved ones for help. You are not alone.
I’m a complicated mechanism that can potentially lead to dysfunctional behaviours. Some associated disorders include an increased risk of other mental health disorders such as anxiety and depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, sleep and eating disorders, personality disorders, substance use disorder, and self-harm.
Symptoms can last “only a few moments or come and go over many years,” according to the Mayo Clinic. While I promise consistency, I can be a persistent — even pervasive — experience that proves hard to manage without treatment. Treatment can include talk therapy and/or medication.
If you vote for me, I will do my best to make you proud, so long as you take care of your health, reach out to loved ones consistently, and are proactive if my symptoms intensify.
Vote for Dissociation 2020 if you want to get through the COVID-19 pandemic with a little more daydreaming, and a little less nail biting!
If you think you’re experiencing severe symptoms of Dissociation, please consider reaching out to a health practitioner, like your doctor or a psychologist. To find a psychologist, visit the Ordre des Psychologues du Quebec website. Additionally, you can always access free listening services from designated organizations.
Are we equipped to address the mental health crises brought on by the virus?
The day before Montreal entered “code-rouge” I found myself running errands with my roommate in preparation for the lockdown. Under the overcast sky of a Wednesday evening, we trekked from one business to another, preparing for the looming uncertainty. From the bakery, to the kosher butcher and fish market — the mundane task of collecting groceries became a mission, not entirely unpleasant. In fact, after a few purchases we developed a system: from outside I monitored our accumulating groceries as my roommate ventured forth into each business.
But, in a quiet moment outside a fish market with a collection of purchased meats as my companion, an unfamiliar feeling crept into my psyche. As I watched the denizens of Montreal go from one place to another, some into stores, others in the metro, a devastating despair intensified.
As the gloomy clouds passed the sky, an anxiety reminiscent of the night before grade school swirled and enveloped me. The anticipation, insecurity, and recognition of a looming drastic change in daily life grew into a miserable and melancholic force with distressing fortitude. A completely foreign anxiety grew in my chest as the world around me contracted into a sea of looming and dystopian doubt.
Yet the anxiety soon shifted into a deep shame. After all, how could I complain? I live with amicable roommates and am financially stable. It felt wrong to grieve for the world before the coronavirus from my fortunate perch outside a grocery store full of food many could no longer afford. I considered my grandmother alone in her New York apartment waiting for a phone call, or the loneliness of those suffering from mental illness or trapped in the brutal cycle of substance abuse. Compared to those who lost jobs, homes, or even loved ones, I hated myself for wallowing in misery.
On a greater scale before COVID-19, suicide plagued Canada. According to Statistics Canada, over the last five years, the second leading cause of death among 20-24-year-olds is suicide — and the trend is increasing. In 2014, 267 Canadians killed themselves, and in 2018, the number increased to 336. Such disturbing figures reflect a national mental-health crisis that existed before the pandemic, and unsurprisingly, COVID-19 is exasperating the crisis.
Last June, the American Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reported 25.5 per cent of Americans between the ages of 18-24 had seriously contemplated suicide within the preceding 30 days — an increase from 8 per cent the year prior. Likewise, the study revealed that 24.7 of respondents started or increased abusing substances due to COVID-19.
I refer to the 18-24 age-range because it captures the demographic of the majority of Concordia students. Although the study is from the United States, the data is beyond troubling. The isolation and mental impacts of Montreal entering code-red coupled with the looming winter ought to concern students, faculty, and the administration.
But, the mental health impacts of COVID-19 go far beyond Concordia students. Administrators and professors face similar challenges from this new world dominated by Zoom fatigue and the limitations of distance learning. Nothing could prepare our university for the barrage of health and governmental restrictions. When the computers close at the end of class, who knows what inner turmoil torments a professor or peer?
Although we can count the suicides — assign a number to each tragedy brought on by the virus — there is no system to compare the suffering of living in this new world. Undoubtedly, future historians will quantify certain aspects of our collective experiences such as the number of deaths, suicides, or days under lockdown. Yet comparing the mental toll of one individual to another is impossible.
And in this realization, a sort of comfort emerges as I reflect on that unforgettable eve of the lockdown. Grief and anxiety about the differences between the way we lived and how we operate today is not a shameful reaction. It is possible to remain grateful while remaining cognizant of the issues of our neighbours who face unique challenges. Through this balance, an inspiring possibility of compassion for the other and our own experiences comes into focus.
So, the coronavirus becomes the great equalizer. I yearn for our collective emergence from this crisis with a society built on greater compassion and understanding than before. No matter how distant, the possibility for a silver lining of a better world forged in historic and trying times, could unlock a marvelous societal bond. Losing hope for a brighter future, no matter how tempting, obscures the light of a better tomorrow, a day of a united and shared victory.
It’s that time of year again. It’s 6 p.m., you look outside and it’s already almost pitch black. Before you know it, we’ll have reached the dreaded state of perpetual night: waking up and going to sleep while it’s still dark — inevitably, leaving you feeling miserable.
No, you’re not the only one who feels this way… Unfortunately, many of us are feeling it too.
According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, 15 per cent of Canadians will experience a mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) over the course of their life, while two to three per cent deal with more extreme cases of SAD recurringly.
But, what exactly is Seasonal Affective Disorder?
SAD is a mild form of depression that is relative to the changing of the seasons. It is known to alter mood, emotions, and reduce energy. Ultimately, SAD leaves sufferers feeling lethargic, unmotivated, agitated, and having difficulty sleeping. In more severe cases, it can even cause an onset of suicidal thought and behaviours.
Researchers are still not 100 per cent certain what actually causes SAD. Though it is just a theory, researchers believe this is caused by a lack of sunlight. Changes in the light are known to disturb the circadian rhythm, also known as the sleep-wake cycle, which regulates hormones and other bodily functions such as digestion, mood, and body temperature.
Lack of sunlight may also interfere with the normal operation of neurotransmitter functions, which enable the transmission of serotonin (the happy chemical) and dopamine (the pleasure hormone).
However, contrary to what most people might think, SAD doesn’t only occur in the winter. While it is less common, a more mild case of the disorder has been known to affect people starting in the spring and over the summer months.
Despite the symptoms of SAD being almost identical to those of depression, it is important to note that they are not the same. A key characteristic that defines their differences lies in the nature of SAD, which is subjective to the seasons. A person suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder will experience symptoms for one to two seasons of the year (generally, they will have experienced it for more than two years in order to be diagnosed), whereas someone with depression will exhibit symptoms year-round.
Research has shown that people who live north of the equator are more susceptible to SAD, on account of a decrease in sunlight. Because SAD is caused by an environmental change, many doctors recommend exercise, outdoor exposure and — when it’s too cold to go outside during daylight hours — light therapy. Also known as phototherapy, light therapy consists of using a light box to replicate outdoor light.
If and when you start feeling the unbearable weight of winter affecting your physiological well-being, try engaging in endorphin-releasing activities, exposing yourself to the sun for even just a few minutes, and using these self-care methods to help ease the blow.
For most of the summer I was alone on a day-to-day basis. My two roommates had fled for the greener pastures of British Columbia by mid-May. So I was stuck in my apartment, occasionally seeing friends around the city, but without the default company of those in my house that I had come to rely on. Without people to share dinnertime and evening drinks with, I began to go a bit stir-crazy. In a simple attempt to vary up my routine, I started taking post-dinner walks.
I’ve always appreciated walking, and even before COVID I was well aware of a good walk’s therapeutic effects. In high school, when experiencing a rocky adjustment to antidepressants, my mom and I would take a walk every afternoon as a way to force myself out of my bed-cave; fresh air and exercise always helped to give me some perspective.
So, it only made sense that I would adopt this routine again in the summer of COVID, when most of us were (or still are) on the brink of mental breakdown. Typically, after dinner I’d grab my CJLO tote bag, put on my headphones, and walk out of my door, with no direction in mind.
I live in the upper Plateau, on the edge of Mile End, so I made a point to walk through all the idyllic alleys of the neighbourhood, covered in quirky graffiti and murals with large trees draping over the road. Taking my evening strolls made me feel more connected to the city. Typically, I’m a fast, aggressive walker, so being able to really take my time and absorb the environment around me without any specific destination gave me a new appreciation for my pretty little borough.
Walking is also the only thing that has been able to rip me away from my various screens. Throughout quarantine, it seemed like the only thing consuming my time was Netflix and falling down rabbit holes of YouTube video essays. So, breaking up the monotony with some physical exercise became a necessity. That’s not to say I didn’t find a way to continue to absorb media through my walks. Podcasts became a necessary staple for my long strolls. A 50 minute WTF with Marc Maron or You’re Wrong About became the soundtrack to most of my Montreal adventures this summer. I had always used my home to school metro transit as my time to wind down from the day and catch up on my favourite podcasts, so I’m glad that habit hasn’t had to go away completely.
I think I’ll continue to go on my walks until the weather forces me to stop. Even now that we are permitted to be a bit more social than earlier in COVID, it’s still important to take time with yourself and your thoughts. For me, it’s a nice long walk, but everyone’s different.
This has not been the smoothest start to the fall semester.
Concordia students are divided on the success of Zoom as a medium of instruction, while it has just been announced that remote learning will continue into the winter term.
The majority of courses at Concordia University have been taught online since March 2020, when COVID-19 became a serious public health concern in Montreal. Many students, however, are still having difficulties with adapting to online schooling.
For Alexander Abuzeid, a second-year student in Cell and Molecular Biology, the beginning of the 2020–21 academic year has not been as enjoyable as last year.
“I’d like to focus more on my assignments and new material, instead of worrying about my microphone not working or my Internet connection not being stable enough.”
According to Abuzeid, potential technical difficulties on Zoom are not even the biggest inconvenience.
“Instead of seeing my professor behind the screen, I’d like to be going to class and interacting face-to-face. In Biology, we need hands-on practice to truly master the concepts — and all we’re getting this semester is three in-person bio labs in total. It’s honestly disappointing.”
The lack of human contact was to be expected since the start of the pandemic, in a world where social distancing is necessary to reduce the spread of COVID-19.
Allowing all Concordia students to return to campus would go against Quebec’s regulations regarding public gatherings. Following the limit of 250 people would simply force Concordia to prioritize certain faculties over others.
Virtual communication, however, is not a downside for all Concordia students. Civil Engineering student Juanes Lucuara believes that online lectures on Zoom are a better alternative for the same reason: minimal physical interaction.
“Being behind the screen is something that is comforting to a lot of us, since people like me, who are pretty introverted, would rather help out their peers while avoiding real-life contact and the anxiety that comes along with it,” said Lucuara.
Another advantage of Zoom classes is a flexible schedule. Many professors record their Zoom lectures and upload them to Moodle, so that students who missed the live session can view the material when it is most convenient for them. This is particularly useful for international students who are currently living in a different time zone.
At the same time, however, such flexibility may lead to poor planning and a stressful pre-exam period full of lectures that have to be watched last minute.
Lucuara also addressed this issue, saying, “When you have in-person classes, you have more motivation, and a sense of responsibility for attending all your lectures. I don’t want this false feeling of freedom to affect my academic performance.”
Communication Studies student Natalia Camargo, on the other hand, is noticing more limitations than excess freedom.
She believes that Zoom lectures are generally an efficient way of online teaching, but not necessarily for her program.
“Online instruction goes well with theoretical courses, but in Communications, I would need that human interaction with my peers and my professors, let alone having access to professional filming equipment. I hope in-person classes resume in the winter, so that I can produce high-quality content once again!”
Concordia announced Monday that, like fall term, the winter term will take place remotely
Concordia’s new online system glosses over student needs
Concordia is asking students to invest in a community which has largely abandoned lofty goals of equitable access, in favour of a new remote model which fails to meet student needs.
When the pandemic began, I didn’t have a lot of time on my hands, and I certainly didn’t have a lot of resources to manage my mental health. I was working part-time as a barista near campus, attending school full-time, and struggling to balance a relationship and extracurriculars on top of it all. I honestly hadn’t heard about COVID-19 until it came up in a class discussion about whether we would be transitioning to online classes. To say it was a wake-up call is an understatement.
In the months that followed, I would lose my barista job, end my relationship, my internship would be cancelled, and plans for a summer directed study with my favourite professor would disappear with the melting snow. My life, previously entirely defined by school, my work, and my relationships with my peers and mentors, has completely changed; and I’m not the only one. COVID-19 has had far reaching impacts on every aspect of life, including the mental health of staff and students alike.
Concordia has made a lot of promises since the pandemic hit, jumping into action with a public relations response that has left many feeling disappointed with the reality of online classes as the fall semester begins. Access has become a positive buzzword that many universities have been utilizing to frame this transition to digital learning — but what is access, really?
Access can be understood as the absence of barriers; it is active in its commitment to enabling success through resolving conflicts with diverse strategies. What does access look like in an academic institution? This is a question universities have been struggling to address since long before the pandemic began.
Concordia has always had issues with creating access. Concordia’s Access Centre for Students with Disabilities (ACSD) is designed to aid this problem, but there are barriers to the average student’s ability to become registered with the centre. The ACSD requires official documentation for medical conditions, mental health conditions, attention deficit disorder, and learning disabilities. Many Concordia students come from outside of the province or country, and do not have access to their family doctor. Students are encouraged to use Health Services, but wait times create barriers to getting the assistance and support they need. In an emergency, students can pay out of pocket to visit a local doctor, but that creates an additional financial barrier to getting the support needed.
I am lucky to have had a diagnosis for my mental illnesses before coming to Concordia, and registering with the ACSD was relatively easy. The ACSD guarantees a certain level of support and protection, but the process of registering, on top of struggling with school work and the additional stress of being in crisis can create additional inhibitors to success. While the university continues to pilot programs intended to support students, they do not have the capacity to support the sheer number of students that require assistance. I fear for the possibility of how students will be impacted by this lack of mental health resources, and the ways in which remote learning will absolve Concordia’s responsibility to student’s mental health.
Administrative response to the rising pressure to reduce tuition fees and address issues of fiscal access was the introduction of Concordia’s COVID-19 Student Emergency Relief Fund. Concordia invested $1 million to create this fund, though, given the university had 46,000 students in the 2019-2020 annual year, this would be equivalent to roughly $21.74 per student. The school is encouraging donations from the community to support this fund, while the university president receives a salary equivalent to the Prime Minister of Canada.
The official administrative response to general inquiry into the preservation of regular tuition fees is that remote courses are being designed to “the highest possible pedagogical standards” and that students will have access to academic advising and one-on-one mentoring, resources which were available prior to COVID-19.
Remote access is theoretically liberating, but the reality of virtual learning is much more complex than what the university administration is addressing. How are students with inadequate access to wifi supposed to access course materials? How is Concordia supporting the many students who cannot afford rent and no longer have a designated learning space? What about parents struggling to manage the responsibilities of their own education while homeschooling their children? What is Concordia doing to incorporate these access needs into the university’s “high pedagogical standards?”
Myself, like a number of other students, considered not returning to school this year. I considered the possibility of taking time off from school, focusing on work, but unfortunately this is not a reality I can afford; I do not have a choice. Concordia is reliant on students like me to continue enrolling so that the school can pay its necessary fees and salaries. I’d be happy to continue contributing to supporting my community, if only I felt more valued rather than a resentful prisoner to the new order of things. It’s possible to have successful remote learning, but the plans put forward by Concordia do not warrant the claim of “accessibility” that the administration is purporting.
In case you’re waking from a mirage, we’re in a global pandemic. Here are some tips to train your brain into navigating this new semester.
Welcome new and returning students to all of the hopeful back-to-school energy, the seasonal start-of-term jitters, and the wonderful opportunity to learn!
Reflecting on my life, I feel deeply grateful in this moment, for the millions of instances of good luck and hard work that have led me to pursuing my degree, where I’m learning skills and life lessons that will fulfill and nourish me. All is well and I am safe.
This sentiment may feel like a bit of bullshit considering everything that’s going on — a literal pandemic, remote learning, social distancing and isolation, in case you forgot — but it’s a useful bit of bullshit. Repeat an affirmation of gratitude to yourself, like the one you just read, and you will slowly trick your brain into being happier, according to neuropsychologist Dr. Rick Hansen. The technique is called “hardwiring happiness” and it operates by undermining the negative bias that our brains create, where the brain remembers negative experiences more readily than positive ones. You can counteract this negative bias by developing a “gratitude practice” like doing meditations grounded in all of the things going right in your life, or keeping a journal of the things you’re grateful for.
Coming back to school, things are going to be “different if not difficult,” according to Dr. Yaniv Elharrar, psychologist at the West Island Therapy & Wellness Centre. “Different if not difficult” sounds like 2020 summed up in a jingle.
If you want some more tips on how to “get your shit together, Carol,” read on.
According to Dr. Elharrar, if you want to combat anxiety, depression, distraction, isolation, and create a home advantage to learning remotely, make a plan. Give yourself a period of trial and error, and don’t get down on yourself for messing up. It’s about getting to know yourself — how you work best, where you work best, when you work best — and organizing your schedule to suit your needs.
Everyone’s different, so you need to do what works for you. However, generally speaking, while the portions may vary person-to-person, the ingredients in your routine should include consistent exercise, healthy eating, an early bedtime, and a social life.
I know it’s nothing less than cliché, but exercise! It will trick your body into all types of good feelings.
“Exercising in the morning actually kick starts your body so it helps you get earlier rest,” says Dr. Jade-Isis Lefebvre, psychologist and yoga instructor at Concordia University.
“Cardio exercise is good for long-term health,” adds Dr. Lefebvre. “After a cardio-based exercise, your focus actually increases.” To sum it up, students can focus better in their windowless apartment that smells like hot sushi if they just do a bit of cardio first.
Plus, if you want to improve focus and concentration long-term, yoga and breathing exercises will help practice the “mind skill that can transition to your daily life,” says Dr. Lefebvre.
So, in case you need a cue card summary of this information, yoga equals long-term focus. Cardio equals short-term focus. Love it. Next.
If you’re looking for a quick fix, there are some subtle cues you can give your body to focus, according to Dr. Lefebvre. “Just pressing your hands on your knees and extending your arms straight,” will ground you in the moment and keep you activated in class.
Now that focus is covered, how can students trick the stress away, too?
“Breath (sic) can help you deactivate the stress response in your body,” says Dr. Lefebvre. You can do it while you’re at your desk. “Inhale bringing your shoulders up towards your ears and then roll them back and down. That’s a really good way to open up your chest and get into your body and remind you that you’re here in the moment.”
Anxiety is a survival-based stress response. In order to reduce your stress, you need to communicate to your body that you’re not under attack, because your body is listening. This next tip will teach you how to speak the language of the body.
Techniques called soothing breath and soothing touch are great ways to disarm your stress response and speak to your body.
“Soothing touch is when you put your hands on a specific spot on your body. You can hold your hands on your cheeks, put your hands in a hug around you, put your hands on your heart,” says Dr. Lefebvre. “One of the ways that is less obvious is if you just cross your hands together and lay them on your lap.”
Soothing breath is when you bring a conscious attention to your breath and just slow it down and deepen it. My personal favourite mantra to support a soothing breath is “in deep, out slow.” These cues subconsciously tell your body you are not under attack. By consistently practicing this, you give your body the sense that it is safe on a biological level.
Now, as long as I’m living, I’m breathing all day every day. Might as well mix in some slow breaths, maybe even a deep one for kicks, sure. With all that said and done, if I don’t plan my schedule so that it’s both flexible and disciplined, I’m just not maximizing my potential to learn and achieve. The thing about a plan is that it needs goals, and goals need to be informed by your personal values. This is as good a time as any to take a look at the values presently dictating your goals.
Research shows that you are more likely to stick to your daily routine if it is realistic, fun, and something you look forward to. It will unlikely be any of these things if you don’t consider what your values are, and what motivates you. Start by identifying what is “really meaningful to you,” says Dr. Lefebvre. Ask yourself what matters most, then orient your goals in this direction.
But with all these tricks down pat, the thing we have to keep in mind is that we’re in this together. Hold on, we got this. Also go outside. Your place smells like hot sushi.
Access Centre for Students with Disabilities is still open and active in the face of the pandemic
The Access Centre for Students with Disabilities (ACSD) is active and open — and has been since March 16. But how will resources for disabled students be applied to an online year?
Anna Barrafato, the disability accommodations specialist at the ACSD says there are four full-time advisors and herself on the team responsible for 3000 students.
“We provide students with reasonable academic accommodations that reduce barriers to full participation in an educational setting,” says Barrafato.
Accommodations typically include volunteer note-takers acquired through an online portal and extra time on exams, and can be adapted on a case-by-case basis. According to Barrafato, “it really depends on what your particular needs are. So, for example, we have some students registered with us who have mobility impairments, and they’re thrilled about this online environment.”
Students with learning disabilities such as dyslexia, dyscalculia and ADHD might struggle with motivation, time management, organization, and other aspects of online learning. Harrison Angel, a Concordia student, says, “I feel like when you go through [the ACSD], they are just pushing more people for you to go through [for help], you connect with people to take notes … it just feels like extra steps when there’s already been extra steps switching to online.”
Without the in-class environment, students may struggle more now than ever with motivating themselves. Barrafato says, “I think one challenge — and it’s not exclusive to people with disabilities — is going to be how to thrive in an online environment. And that’s a major challenge, not just for students with disabilities but for all students.”
Concordia student Jana Lamy explains that she struggles to stay concentrated in class without a little bit of help. She says that in previous online classes, “even if my camera is on, even if my mic is on, I am still so distracted in so many ways. The teacher can’t necessarily grab my attention and realize that I am drifting off.”
Dr. Hadas Av-Gay, an education specialist and coach, explains, “it is tricky because university students are adults, and they are in their own rooms in their own homes. So no one can or wants to control them. They really have to work on their own and be motivated intrinsically to develop discipline and commitment.”
In the past, the ACSD has mainly focused on student outreach through emails, in-person workshops, and office hours with an advisor when needed. However, in a time where most communication is online, some things fall through the cracks.
The ACSD still sends emails to the students registered with them and hosts drop-in Zoom sessions. According to Barrafato, these sessions were very successful in the summer.
“We started March 16, so the rest of March, April and May, on a weekly basis we were getting 10 to 15 students to each of these Zoom meetings,” says Barrafato.
Students must register with the ACSD to access accommodations. Registration happens through an online portal, where all the requirements and documents needed are listed. Students must register by Nov. 9 to access accommodations for Fall final exams.
Appointments can easily be made for registered students.
“We invite students to email us so we can book an appointment. They can either meet with us through email, or on the telephone, or we can set up a video chat… So there’s different methods that they can [use to] reach out to us,” says Barrafato.
Jana Lamy explains that in the past, having advisors check up on her work and her schooling would frustrate her.
“But now that I am older, and that I am able to realize that sometimes I need that push, I think it would be interesting, to a certain extent, to have somebody checking in and asking if you’ve finished, if you’re okay, if you need professors to help you with something.”
Without a doubt, this year will have unforeseen challenges. However, the ACSD is actively looking for more ways to help students.
“The best way to reach our 3000 registered students is to send emails,” said Barrafato. “A few years back we did try to have a Facebook page or something like this, but our students really weren’t interested in that, and it was really hard to get them to sign up. We’ve thought about different things at different times of the year, but for now our only method is through email.”
