Tag: opinion

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Opinions

Flâneurs and the art of city walking

Graphic by Wednesday Laplante

How 19th century urban explorers may be the key to rediscovering the beauty of Montreal

I never really liked walking in the city. To grow up in an urban environment meant life was fast-paced, so leisurely strolls didn’t really make sense. Instead, rationality and time management overruled any effort to enjoy where I was walking. 

A trip to the grocery store was done in haste, and school drop-offs were bundled together with errands. Even a picnic in a public park was restricted to the one hour time slot we allocated for.

This mindset continued when I moved to Montreal and started my degree. I carried over the attitude of seeing the street as a transitional space between two more important locations. 

The street carried no inherent value and was to be navigated as efficiently as possible. 

Montreal’s summer and winter weather further entrenched my desire to limit city walking. My views were firm, but change came in response to a global pandemic.

The COVID-19 pandemic brought me many sedentary days and a yearning for some sort of connection. Over the months, I looked for ways to temper my urban cabin fever. Running and cycling were fine, but the city paths I covered were still being used as mere accessories for my exercise — like an elaborate treadmill. I wasn’t really experiencing anything the city had to offer. 

It wasn’t until I learned about a certain historical group that I was inspired to connect to the urban outdoors. They were 19th century European flâneurs, and they saw the city in an entirely different light. 

The flâneur, or flâneuse, was a well-to-do individual with plenty of free time on their hands. They were known to study the many districts of Paris, London, Berlin, and Vienna in their industrial golden ages. 

They took little part in the commercial activities of the markets and stores, and aside from resting at cafés and restaurants, they withdrew from the social activity of the streets. What they did was observe. 

In maintaining anonymity, the flâneur would witness the endless theatrics that unfolded on the city scene. These observant characters were able to find limitless dramas play out through the mundane activities of city folk.

This group intrigued me, and I wondered if it would be possible to recapture their enjoyment of the city. With this in mind, I set out on a summer afternoon to see what I could find.

Keeping my head high and ears tuned, I wandered around Montreal. With shoppers and commuters out, I was sure to find the streets filled. Through the summer heat and the city smell, I slowly tuned into the sights of the downtown bustle, and with the rigorous style of the flâneurs, I took note of the city activity.

To my delight, I started to really connect with all the action around me. From construction workers to window shoppers, everything played out like elements in a great play, with everyone dutifully filling their roles. 

For example, I noted a well-dressed businessman frantically phoning an airline to reorganize his flights. By itself, this scene wasn’t particularly memorable. But when I placed his troubles into the greater context of the times — the pandemic, the re-opening economy, the difficulties of flying, and the historic commercial hub that is Montreal — they suddenly felt so immense. 

The city itself also bore energy upon closer inspection. Construction pylons, cars, a dead pigeon, pesky living pigeons, and even the many angles of light bouncing off the skyscrapers came together to create their own complete unit. They had their own worth.

What was once a cumbersome experience was now full of intensity. Whether through age, circumstance, or desperation, something in me had changed. I felt connected to the complexities of the city, and I was deeply enjoying the experience. Even in my anonymous role of observer, I was a part of the story of that given day.

I continue these walks to this day, finding new stories every time. While I don’t always walk with the same observational fervour, I’ve come to depend on strolling through the city. By putting these walks in a fresh light, they become so much more than the chore they used to be. 

Going through any given burrough and reflecting on the sheer brilliance of the action gives these spaces a whole new weight and importance. If it means budgeting more time in the day, then it’s fully worth the price.

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Opinions

Palestinians deserved Netflix’s Mo

Mo/NETFLIX

Why Mo Amer’s new Netflix series is the most culturally significant thing you’ll watch this year

Mohammed Amer is a Palestinian-American comedian, and co-creator of Mo on Netflix, along with Golden Globe-winning Egyptian-American actor Ramy Youssef. 

The A24 series follows Mo Najjar as he navigates his life as a Palestinian refugee in Texas. The series is heavily autobiographical and the events are based on the experiences of Mohammed “Mo” Amer.  

In one scene, Mo puts down a bottle of olive oil on the dinner table, freshly made by his mother, Yusra. “It’s nothing like the stuff back home,” she says.

The olive oil is a piece of home in Texas, so he holds on to it everywhere he goes as he juggles the intricacies of being Muslim and Palestinian in America.

The TV we consume shape our mindsets, paired up with research and an open mind, some TV shows that shine the spotlight on Muslim and Arab communities are a good place to start. `

Mo is the representation Palestinians have been craving.

My Palestinian family and I watched it from our living room in Kuwait and have never felt more seen because finally, we got a show with accurate Arabic dialogue and relatable family dynamics. 

My family comes from a city by the coast of Palestine called Haifa, but after the occupation of Palestine my grandparents fled to Kuwait, where I was born and raised. I had grown up so far away from what I felt resonated with my identity as a Palestinian. 

Similarly, Mo’s parents were forced out of Haifa by the Isreali Defense Force (IDF), leaving them with no passports or residency anywhere. They ended up living in Kuwait, but had to leave after the Gulf War in 1990, the same war my parents endured as teenagers. 

The details of Mo’s life felt so familiar it kept my family and I enticed for all eight episodes of the series, because watching something so relatable was so gratifying. The main character is undeniably flawed, authentic, and hilarious. 

He juggles his relationship, illegal immigrant status, the weight of providing for his family, and the tragic death of his father as we watch his mental health deteriorate. Despite being a fictional character, the issues and struggles he represents are very real.

Alongside his traumatic flashbacks and nightmares caused by his father’s death, I found it insightful that an Arab character overcomes substance abuse issues on-screen. Mo develops an addiction to lean (a mixture of cough syrup and soda), shedding light on an important scope in Muslim and Arab communities that is often dismissed.

Drug addiction and substance abuse are prominent within our communities (almost everyone I know has a nicotine addiction), but cultural and religious stigma stop us from confronting the uncomfortable reality of it.

Even withdrawal symptoms are portrayed in the series, when Mo sits in the waiting room of the courthouse the day of their asylum case, sweating, vomiting, and struggling from a lack of sleep.

Yet the series remains funny and lighthearted, and comedy television seems to be the only thing that humanizes these groups to the Western world.

There is something refreshing about laughing at the jokes of a main character who resembles your cousins and uncles, and remains a Muslim Arab character who isn’t battling loss and confusion with their identity.

Unlike the familiar tropes Muslims and Arabs are confined to in the media, Mo seems to reject the common Islamophobic plotlines we have become used to.

I would compare Mo’s character to other Muslim characters in the media depicted as terrorists or victims of oppression. For example, in Netflix’s teenage drama Elite, one of the Muslim characters takes off her hijab to “liberate” herself from her religion. However, Mo refuses to distance himself from his religious and national identity. 

We have grown tired of two-dimensional and misrepresented Muslim and Arab characters. 

We must recognize that the issue with such limited representation of Palestinians in the media is that it has granted the power to the straight male diaspora to be the voice of Palestine.

The amount of screen time our communities get is what provides us our voice and platform, although we must be wary of who exactly is the face of that platform.

This leaves room for misrepresentation or misinformation. For example, Mo comments on the borders set in Palestine in 1967 after the Six-Day War.

He says, “I’d be really happy if we’d go back to 1967 borders.” This neglects the reality of Palestinians living in Palestinian territory in 1948. He refers to a time when Palestine was still actively under occupation, and Palestinians were being displaced from their homes.

It was refreshing to watch someone who speaks, eats, and prays the way I did growing up, and who carried a bottle of olive oil with him in an effort to hold onto his roots. It stressed the simplicity of taking our home with us no matter where we are.

I think we can agree that Mo is a face of Palestine, but definitely not the only one. The next step is a less Hollywood-washed, Westernized face of Palestine. One that acknowledges the struggle of Palestinians in Palestine and represents women, queer people, and stateless individuals who identify as Palestinian. Soon we will all be carrying our metaphorical bottle of olive oil everywhere we go.

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Opinions

Shaping the war in Afghanistan

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

How does the Canadian perspective of Afghanistan relate to reality?

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

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

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

Overlooking Kabul, September 2020. KATHLEEN GANNON/THE CONCORDIAN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Photos by Kathleen Gannon

What The Concordian strives for

In establishing our future, we look to students for guidance

Off the top of your head, several of the main tenets of journalism are easy to identify: objectivity, accuracy, accountability, and transparency. Journalism seeks to prompt change and influence, while playing a crucial role in facilitating dialogue.

At first, this may seem like an unattainable status for a student paper. Our publication’s influence is too small and our reach is too little to strive for change. However, pressure from our organization and mobilization of the student community nonetheless has led to the betterment of our student community.

Just last year, the Concordia Student Union pushed to have pass/fail an option for each semester; with students petitioning for the resource. The Concordian covered students’ mental stress and need for a pass/fail system during the pandemic, with the Montreal Gazette following with their coverage of students’ stories from different universities on the issue. Before the end of the fall 2020 semester, Concordia announced they would implement the pass/fail system. The option allowed students to receive a pass or fail notation instead of a letter grade on their transcripts for one course.

This wasn’t our doing alone, neither do we take credit for the hours of work poured into advocating for such a change by the student leaders at our university. But we do strive to be a vehicle for change — to help students achieve their potential and promote the well-being of our community.

Outside of Concordia, earlier this fall semester Western University’s student publication Western Gazette broke the story on how several women were allegedly sexually assaulted during orientation week on campus. This prompted national coverage and thousands to walk out of the university in a mass protest against sexual violence on campus and to voice their support for the survivors. While investigations are still underway, this is an example where student media facilitated the accountability of the university to take action, and action against the possible transgressors.

Moreso, journalism must “strive to make the significant interesting and relevant,” according to The Elements of Journalism by Bill Kovach and Tom Rosenstiel. While this is a popular first-year reading for j-school students, it lays the foundation for how we will approach our future as a student publication.

In the coming months, we want to hear from students on what they look for in student media. We will seek to interact and engage with our main readership on how we can better fulfill our mandate as a student newspaper. While we will be the ones to reach out, we ask that students provide their feedback on what issues you would like us to explore, what kind of coverage is most important to you; in essence, what you want to see from us.

The fundamentals of our newspaper will remain the same, but The Concordian will strive to report on the concerns and interests most relevant and important to our student population. We are written for Concordia students, and we seek to honour that mandate.

 

Photograph by Alex Hutchins

Categories
Sports

Thank you The Concordian

Closing on a great chapter with The Concordian

I had always been told that getting experience in journalism was important before finishing university and trying to find a job. My time with The Concordian these last two-and-a-half years has been one of the best experiences I could hope for as an aspiring sports journalist.

During my first semester at Concordia University, I attended a conference in which The Concordian’s team at the time spoke to us about the paper. Nicholas Di Giovanni, sports editor at the time, talked about the sports section of the newspaper and how to get involved.

It didn’t take long for me to start covering Concordia Stingers games and writing articles for The Concordian. I saw an opportunity to share my passion for sports with everyone. I was lucky enough to quickly be offered the assistant sports editor position in my first semester on campus, and for that, I want to thank Di Giovanni.

His trust, but also his help and time during my first year with The Concordian, is something I can’t put into words. I don’t know what exactly he saw in me, but by giving me this role, he helped me start a great chapter with The Concordian.

To have the chance to cover Stingers games and interview athletes and coaches has been something really special. It was especially unique during that first year as assistant sports editor, since I wasn’t doing a lot of sports interviews on a regular basis.

It was no surprise I would apply for the sports editor position in my second year. I didn’t get the role, as I remained assistant, but it ended up being the best thing for me. This time, I was working with Matthew Ohayon.

To have two different editors in two years with the team was really helpful. It showed me different working methods and made me learn even more. I quickly realized that there are so many ways to approach things and work with stories.

I think it really helped me with who I am today, writing this last piece as sports editor of The Concordian. When I applied for the role again, in my third year, I was way more ready for this position than I was when I applied at the beginning of my second.

I’m not saying you should not apply for an editor position in your first two years. However, you should not be ashamed at all of being in an assistant role for consecutive years. After all, I would be lying if I told you that my goal, when starting out with The Concordian, wasn’t to end up leading the sports section one day.

I was looking forward to writing weekly Colour Commentary pieces, deciding pitches and learning even more things again this year. Despite the COVID-19 pandemic, forcing me to look at things a bit differently than I imagined them, it’s been a wonderful experience.

I’ve been blessed to have Liam Sharp as assistant sports editor. In his first year with The Concordian, Sharp has brought some of the most original stories I’ve seen for our sports section since I joined the staff. He’s behaved like he’s been on the team for a few years now. For that, I thank you my friend. Your dedication and professionalism have been remarkable all year long.

I can’t believe it’s already been two-and-a-half years since I joined the team. I also can’t believe those are the last words I’m writing for The Concordian. I wish there were more stories to write so I could ask more grammar and structure questions to my copy editor friend Abigail Candelora.

To be honest, I’ve probably been asking questions every week to the copy editing team. For that, I want to say thank you, but also sorry. I owe you all a coffee when we finally can meet in person.

To this year’s staff, you’ve been amazing. I’ve never seen such an amazing group of people, full of energy and willing to share ideas each week. It’s amazing to think we’ve never met, because it feels like that’s not the case. This has been a really special group. I’m not the one who always talks or gives his opinion, but I’ve always felt included in everything. I’ve always felt like everyone was part of the team and important.

To Lillian Roy, Chloë Lalonde and Jacob Carey, a huge thank you. Please, never change, because you truly are great people. You treated us all fairly and have always been there when there was a problem. As leaders of The Concordian for this academic year, I could not have asked for anyone better.

On that, it’s a wrap folks. Don’t forget the Montreal Canadiens play the Calgary Flames tomorrow night at 7 p.m. at the Bell Centre. For my part, I’m probably going to be on a tennis court as usual. See ya.

 

Graphic by Rose-Marie Dion

Categories
Opinions

My opinion, or just what I think?

About five months ago, I was having dinner with a few friends and we had a conversation. Usually, our outings involve take-out, staying in, watching bad movies, playing cards, with the occasional serious conversation over an ice-cream run.

This specific group has a tendency to forgo all seriousness when together, choosing instead to resort to a lot of high-pitched noises and endearing labels (such as habibi with a strong annunciation of eee). Yes, my 6-feet-tall broad-shouldered boyfriend and his two best friends turn into cute little mischievous fairies at our weekly get-together. I absolutely adore them.

Anyway, the point is having a serious conversation with them is rare. But there we were, sharing horrible McDonalds, and discussing the difference between a thought and an opinion.

At the risk of becoming contradiction-personified, I’m putting forth the argument that not everyone is allowed to have an opinion about something while writing an opinion piece.

Here’s my basis: an opinion is educated, while a thought is merely a thought. What this means is everyone is entitled to think anything they want, whether it’s educated, humane or whatever “right” means. But if you want to have an opinion about something (and call it an opinion), you have to be educated about the subject.

In a simpler example, I can’t say pork is not good if I have never tried it. You won’t go to the local librarian to ask about medication. Taking that into consideration, why would a thought from someone who has nothing to do with the topic matter? Opinions need to come from educated places, not from entitled egos. That’s the first layer of “having an opinion.”

The second layer requires a level of humanity that I understand to be hard for some to achieve. I completely get how hard it must be to not be unkind to people you don’t know. I understand how impossible it is to keep your nose in your own business instead of prying into others’ lives. Yes, I get it, it’s too hard to not impose your unsolicited thoughts on others. Just to be clear, I am being sarcastic.

Being entitled to an opinion isn’t equated with freedom of speech. Something I learned in Canada, that I believe should be the basis of freedom of speech worldwide, is that the law literally says freedom stops when it becomes harmful and slanderous to another person. This means you can’t hide behind “it’s my opinion” to justify your racism, islamophobia, discrimination or unkindness.

“Gay people are not natural” or “religion says homosexuality is a sin and that’s why it shouldn’t exist” are not phrases that fall under opinion. Are you an expert in gays? Yeah, no. You might be an expert in whatever your religion is, but that is why there’s a separation of state and church in most of the world; your interpretation of a religion should not dictate someone else’s life, especially when said religion is so self-contradictory—but this is a different story. There is a consensus though, at least in Abrahamic Religions, that it’s God who judges. It’s very simple, it’s not under your jurisdiction to decide how someone else should live.

You’re allowed to think whatever you want. But once you voice it and present it as an opinion to be taken into consideration, there’s a social responsibility to preserve humanity. The ideas that are put forth influence the way a society functions; sharing an “opinion” that is based on discrimination perpetuates racist and discriminatory behaviour.

Instead of calling it an opinion, start by simply calling it a thought.

Remember that right and wrong is subjective, and again, at the risk of contradicting the purpose of this piece, here’s some advice: whatever your “right” or “wrong” is, if it devalues the existence of someone, their right to be, keep it to yourself.

Graphic by @sundaeghost

Categories
Opinions

Preventing Fake News

Social media gives a platform for anyone to share their stories and opinions. All one needs is an internet connection—there is no criteria for professional journalistic skills or ethics. However, with this freedom comes opportunity to publish literally anything — including fake news.

Fake news involves the dissemination of information that is intended to mislead or manipulate an audience. It is also known as disinformation. Fake news can influence public opinion or perception, or instill fear. According to the 2019 Edelman Trust Barometer, 71 per cent of Canadians worry about fake news being used as a weapon. It is so easy to spread fake news—so citizens need to be better protected from it.

It recently occurred to me how easily information can be transformed into disinformation. On World Cleanup Day on Sept. 21, I was photographing the many Montrealers who took to the streets to pick up garbage. My camera lens caught one of the participants, François Raymond, putting Justin Trudeau’s campaign poster into a garbage bag. Raymond was smiling as if he looked happy about throwing it away. The first thought I had was that his smile was linked to his political views. I assumed he did not like Trudeau.

François Raymond, a participant, cleans the streets on World Cleanup Day near the statue of Sir John A. Macdonald in Montreal, Quebec. Photo by Reham Al Azem.

However, after I approached him to verify my perception, he said his smile had nothing to do with his political views, he was just happy with the amount of trash he had collected so far.

It got me thinking that if my picture had been shared on social media without context or with the wrong caption, it would misrepresent Raymond’s actions of simply cleaning his city. For example, if it was published on a social media page affiliated with the NDP or Conservatives, the picture could give the impression that Canadians are not supporting the Liberal Party, and affect voter perception. And with 40 per cent of Canadians using Facebook as a news source, according to the Reuters 2019 Digital News Report, many people could be subject to this disinformation.

This type of situation isn’t unheard of in the mainstream media. In 2016, during a campaign in South Carolina, a photo of Hillary Clinton went viral. It depicted her tumbling on steps with aides helping Clinton get her balance. The photo was used in the alt-right news site Breitbart published it as a clue of Clinton’s deteriorating health from a previous brain injury.  The Getty photographer Mark Makela was disappointed how his photo was misappropriated, in an interview with Wired.

With how easily fake news can be produced, social media companies cannot be depended upon to police themselves. Although Facebook Canada  with Agence France-Presse (AFP) launched its third-party fact-checking program, this will not do enough to prevent disinformation on its platform, according to a new transparency report released by the U.K.-based fact-checking charity organization Full Fact. For example. they state  government should be more involved in providing public information on subjects where harm can be done by disinformation.

I believe that using artificial intelligence to monitor social media on a daily basis will decrease fake news. Yet, Facebook’s fact-checking program is only a partial solution, since it’s impossible to combat the many fake news posts, often mixing opinions, conspiracies, and even facts, which can sometimes appear as real news.

More needs to be done, and I think it should start with legislation, as ultimately, the way people perceive fake news can completely change their views and potentially harm their lives. Law should be a method to protect users’ safety first and foremost,  and to protect journalism as a profession, as it’s one of the main institutions aimed at keeping democracy in place.

In Canada, laws around the dissemination of fake news haven’t been very effective. Section 181 says “ Every one who wilfully publishes a statement, tale or news that he knows is false and that causes or is likely to cause injury or mischief to a public interest is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years.” But in 1992, Canada’s Supreme Court deemed the offense unconstitutional as it the right to freedom of expression. And since the  section is not legally effective, there is still a gap when it comes to fighting fake news in the country.

With the new big technology shift occurring, it broadens the chance to have misleading news and lies. To hold that back, new laws need to frequently be enacted on a case-by-case basis in order to suppress the harmful mistruths. I think fines should be imposed on those who repeatedly publish fake information. Ethical hackers can be used to track down perpetrators who are causing significant harm on people’s lives or reputations. This will still keep the flow of democracy without limiting people’s right to free speech.

Due to a national survey conducted by Nanos Research for the organization Canadian Journalists for Free Expression (CJFE), More than 70 per cent of Canadians agree or somewhat agree that government regulation is needed to prevent the proliferation of fake news, while more than 60 per cent of Canadians think that the federal government is not transparent or somewhat not transparent when it comes to the information that is available about what governments do.”

In the meantime, all we can do is to think critically about everything we see or read, and be skeptical, especially on social media.

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost
Photos by Reham Al-Azem

Categories
Music

It’s time to burn award shows

Graphic by @sundaeghost

The Grammys, AMAs, Soul Train Awards, among others have proved they know nothing about music. It’s time we stopped caring

The past couple of weeks have been messy for music award ceremonies. The Grammys saw immediate backlash after they announced a hip hop lineup that only featured men in the “Rap Album of the Year” category, and white men, specifically, in the “Producer of the Year” category.

The 2019 American Music Awards (AMAs) continued to prove that they don’t understand what “genre” means either. Apparently, Taylor Swift’s Lover is a rock album. Apparently, Post Malone’s Hollywood’s Bleeding is a hip hop album. Both of them are definitely pop.

The 2019 Soul Train Awards gave Lizzo the “Album/Mixtape of the Year” award for her debut, Cuz I Love You, an album that could barely be described as “soul.” Dreamville artist Ari Lennox penned a lengthy essay in tweet-form that singled out these awards for not choosing her, despite making an album deeply rooted in soul, in favour of an album that simply dominated the charts.

Award shows are notorious for getting things wrong. Lest we forget the infamous 2014 Grammys where Macklemore took home the “Best Rap Album” over Kendrick Lamar’s 2012 masterpiece, Good Kid, M.A.A.D City. It’s no secret that those who choose the winners are out-of-touch with society.

More artists have figured out that a Grammy nomination really means nothing. Drake’s victory speech for “God’s Plan” winning “Best Rap Song” was a direct attack on how the Grammy winners are selected; a speech that was cut early.

Drake’s right, too. The Grammys are meaningless, as is every other award show.  It’s a political game that benefits only those who seem appropriate to win according to its obtuse voters. 

The hip hop section of the Grammys continues to suffer the most. Cardi B is the only woman in the “Best Rap” performance category, and it’s for a song that isn’t even her own (Offset’s “Clout”). There isn’t a single woman in the “Best Rap/Sung Performance,” “Best Rap Song,” or “Best Rap Album” categories.

Of course, including women for the sole purpose of including women is wrong, but when you have albums like Megan Thee Stallion’s Fever, Rapsody’s Eve, and Rico Nasty’s Anger Management, all released within the same year, it becomes harder to imagine why they would choose Meek Mill’s Championships or Dreamville’s Revenge of the Dreamers III compilation.

Sure, those albums were fine and this isn’t to discredit them, but those albums only appear on the list out of respect for the artists. If J. Cole wasn’t attached to the Dreamville compilation, it would have been largely ignored. If Meek Mill hadn’t been through his messy legal troubles, Championships would have been ignored too.

The Grammys have been getting it wrong for years and they still continue to prove that they’ll choose the safe choice over anyone who rightly deserves it. They have taken a few steps forward in terms of diversity, especially when looking at Lizzo’s lead in the nominations, but she is nothing if not a safe choice as her vanilla pop music has taken the radio by storm. The same could be said with Lil Nas X as well. 

Until the Grammys become more daring with their choices, it’s time to stop caring. Burn the Grammys.

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

Categories
Opinions

I’m a journalist and an activist. Deal with it

In September, the Global Climate Strike took the world by storm with approximately 7.6 million people marching for climate action.

According to its organizers, this was the biggest climate mobilization in history. People sent a clear message to their governments: they expect climate action, and they expect it now. With approximately 500,000 people striking in Montreal, this was the largest strike in the city’s history, said Montreal Mayor Valérie Plante.

I was part of the march both as a journalist and an engaged citizen. I wonder if my objectivity could be discredited, since I personally share values with some climate activists and align myself with certain environmental movements.

Many journalists think it’s important to keep a distance from groups and movements, at the risk of losing credibility and thus the trust of readers. I’m aware that I have my own perspectives that impact the filter through which I view and describe events; and inevitably shades the, so to say, “truth.” However, I truly believe that being aware of these biases can only encourage me to be more objective and motivated to deliver the “truth.”

Objectivity is thought of as an absolute – journalists are either 100 per cent objective, or not at all. But in fact, journalists, like other human beings, are all subjective. They too, have their own interests, values, opinions and ideologies. I believe that, consciously or not, these values shape who they are, what they think and how they act as citizens as well as journalists. My personal interests are based on environmental and social issues and I believe in climate change and the need to act now. The planet is the number one subject I want to report on and I believe my interests and experiences in this field can add value to my journalism.

There is also this fantasy that journalists are independent and serve only the public. In theory, journalism is meant to deliver the truth and help the readers make their own opinion about the world, beyond the influence of any source of power, such as the government or private companies. I believe that in reality, even the most conscientious and cautious journalist can be influenced either by powerful sources or by various situations. For example, influences may come from the political views of the news organization the journalist works for.

Moreover, in my opinion, there are always two – if not more – sides to a story. The concept of “balance” can give you the impression that both sides should always be covered equally. But should they really? Journalists can sometimes give equal voice to people of unequal knowledge. For example, when covering stories linked to the constant debate on the existence of a climate urgency, journalists tend to grant equal importance to both scientists and global warming sceptics. Fearful of being seen as biased or discriminating certain opinions, they sometimes don’t help but confuse and mislead the public opinion.

Also, depending on deliberate choices concerning the materials used to depict an event or news, such as the composition of the pictures taken during a protest or the words used to describe the event, journalists can convey different sides of a story. They may do it unconsciously as they are sometimes just following news conventions, like publishing a picture showing the one violent demonstrator in a peaceful protest. It makes a more compelling photo than showing peaceful marchers, but I don’t think this depicts the actual event as it happened. I believe it is part of the journalists’ job to break barriers between people of different opinions and not only share what people do, but why they do it.

As part of my studies as well as my personal interests, I decided to join an environmental movement last July, to better understand activism and its link to journalism. Born in France, known for its revolutionary people, I had never joined any protest or any march before and had always thought protesters were very different from me. But the more I started attending protests, the more I realized how alike we were. This made me realize that there is a very powerful stereotype among the public opinion concerning activism. More and more, I could see that activism was often portrayed as violent, and activists as harmful troublemakers.

On the other hand, when I went to protests myself, I could see how peaceful they actually were and how cautious they had to be to fight against this misinterpretation commonly held in the public opinion that they’re the ones messing with the system. I believe journalists matter in this, since they have a certain influence on the public opinion.

Journalists decide what is news. Journalists are the ones to attach relative importance to news events. Readers interpret those events through the language that journalists choose to constitute their coverage. 

It’s obviously very difficult to leave my personal interests out of my work life, and I think that it’s a journalist’s responsibility to have integrity in their work. There will always be an inherent link between the authenticity of my work and my values, and it would be hypocritical to hide it. I strongly believe that if I acknowledge my personal interests, am conscious that I may have biased first reactions but am willing to try my best to deliver factual reports, I should not be considered any differently than other reporters, and I believe my knowledge of the ecological crisis can make me even better equipped to talk about such issues.

 

Photo by Britanny Clarke

Categories
Opinions

Climate change in the context of mental health

As an avid consumer of media, the knot in my stomach continues to tighten every time I see “climate change” in a headline.

There seems to be one heartbreaking news story after another, whether it is the fires in the Amazon or the floods in Sudan. This makes me think: I’m not the only millennial with a metal straw, reusable grocery bag, and a deep fear at the back of my mind regarding the doom of our planet, right?

I wish I could say that every news headline made me pick up a picket sign, donate to the World Wildlife Fund, and compel me to eat a vegan diet – but often it just makes me feel like a sack of potatoes. So if I care ‘so deeply’ about the environment, why is my anxiety not motivating me to do anything about it?

In hopes of validating my own anxious thoughts, I started doing some research and I found that I’m not alone in my woes. In fact, this is not a new development by any sort. According to LiveScience.com, feeling desperate and helpless when it comes to environmental issues is a common psychological disorder called “eco-anxiety.” The American Psychological Association explains that this anxiety focuses on the feeling of doom and a chronic fear regarding environmental problems.

Thomas Doherty, a clinical psychologist in Portland Oregon, explained to LiveScience.com that people are not taught how to talk about the climate issue.

“Up to a certain point, arousal — how alert or worried you feel — leads people to take action and perform better, “ said Doherty. “But overly high levels of anxiety can become paralyzing.”

As Doherty said, anxiety can cause avoidance. For me personally, I often shut down the conversation about climate change because on a global scale it feels like there is nothing I can do to help.

Susan Clayton, one of the lead authors of a climate-change guide by the American Psychological Association, told CNN that our human tendencies towards avoiding conflict and to feel fear, helplessness, and resignation in response to climate change is growing. She continued by explaining that this is limiting citizens from developing “psychological resiliency,” meaning they are not able to handle and conceptualize the reality of climate change.

I am slowly learning that the more dialogue we create regarding our own panic and uneasiness, the less alone we will feel in the world of climate anxiety.

“Treating climate anxiety in children is very similar to treating general anxiety,” said Rhonda Matters, a Child Psychologist in PEI, to CBC – she stated that acknowledging the anxiety goes a long way.

In an interview with CNN, Wendy Petersen Boring, a professor from Yale University, has said she has expanded her climate anxiety curriculum from one week of lessons, to two full courses. She now addresses the emotional and psychological toll of activism in 2019 with greater depth, as we continue to uncover the urgency of the situation.

I also think it is irresponsible to talk about climate change without talking about privilege. Although I’m aware this issue affects us all, I have to acknowledge my avoidant anxiety as not only an issue I have to actively work on, but also as a privilege. My socio-economic environment has protected me from many repercussions that other countries, cities and neighbourhoods are dealing with on a direct and daily basis. I am also privileged to live in a country with news outlets sharing truths about the state of our environment.

Well, as cliche as it sounds, “knowledge is power,” but learning how to cope with our own discomfort is also power. I must continue to voice my anxieties in the hopes they will lead to fruitful discussions with others, but most importantly I must stay aware and informed. As a society, we are blocked by the immensity of the situation. We need to continue to learn how to approach this issue in a productive and sustainable way. Perhaps Susan Clayton said it best, “We can’t just curl up in a ball and wait for the end of the world.”

 

Graphic by Victoria Blair

Categories
Opinions

Disconnecting when being interconnected

Graphic by Ana Bilokin.

One student’s thoughts on why we should consider putting our phone away and living in the present

I’m sure all of you who have smartphones have experienced some sense of guilt for devoting so much time to them every day. We are being reminded daily of the amount of time we spend in front of our screens. We live in a virtual world, where we maintain and develop connections, at the cost of engaging with those who are physically present. Why is it that despite having contact with others at our fingertips at all times, we still feel lonely?

According to Psychology Today, we are being haunted by a “loneliness epidemic,” where those of us who spend the most time on social media feel the most lonesome. Even if you have deleted all social media off your phone, you are still susceptible to this epidemic. Studies have revealed that the relentless use of mobile phones leads us to experience anxiety, depression, isolation and loneliness. Face-to-face interactions are losing value as we feel closer to our friends and family by nurturing relationships virtually. We are only drifting away from the reality in which we are living.

For those of us who use our phones as a means of sustaining connections with those far away, it is harder to find balance between living in the present and being elsewhere. We are victims of being virtually connected while in the presence of those we love, thus isolating ourselves even further. We are completely addicted to constantly checking the time, the weather, Instagram, Facebook, you name it; all of these are distractions that affect us more than they benefit us. According to The Telegraph, we are spending approximately 24 hours per week on our phones. Can you imagine being in front of your screen for a whole day non-stop? Of course you can, because this is our weekly reality.

We are prioritizing the virtual world over the real world. We feel empty as we try to capture every moment for social media and friends, and are not enjoying the present while we’re in it. This strikes a nerve because we are constantly seeking entertainment and wasting our time by overindulging in our cellphones.

I think it’s sad when a couple or a group of friends are sitting at a restaurant, scrolling down their screens instead of talking to each other. I feel bad for those who are in the middle of a forest recording every moment for their Instagram story. But the truth is that we have all done those things.

I know it sounds cheesy, but we should really be living in the present. No one truly cares about what we are doing anyway—you are aware of that yourself as you skip/scroll through other people’s stories or messages. Scrolling through our social media can lead to feelings of dissatisfaction with our own lives as we compare it to the perfect reality of those portrayed through pretty filters and thought-out captions.

The chronic need to check our phones prevents us from relaxing and checking in with ourselves. Rather than connecting with each other, we are disconnecting from our real lives and from the present. The first step in spending less time on our phones is to recognize the fact that we have a problem. Putting our phones down more often will help us obtain a clearer mindset. If you want to go further, maybe a real alarm clock will be the solution to late nights and morning screen scrolls. These are small steps that can have a big impact—why not start today?

Graphic by Ana Bilokin.

Categories
Music

Why world music doesn’t (or shouldn’t) exist

The case against a genre that generalizes the planet

When someone talks to you about pop music, you have a certain idea of what that sounds like. The same goes for rock and its various subgenres: punk, metal, grunge. Likewise, if I say I like hip hop or R&B, you can somewhat tell what kind of sound I’m into. But what about world music? What does that evoke? Does it even mean anything at all?

The term “world music” is not only odd, but it is also sometimes used in a way that’s almost perversely Western-centric. When scouring Apple Music’s genres, for example, you’ll see pop, alternative, hip hop, rock, country, and jazz as some of the main genres. Then, at the bottom of the list, the “world” section sits, devoid of any indicator as to exactly what you’ll find inside.

Though surprising at first, there is such a concept as world music—and it is in total opposition to the “genre” found on various streaming apps, containing music from all over the world with no distinction of style. In North America, one of the first definitions for world music date back to the 1960s and was coined by ethnomusicologist Robert Brown.

As Brown founded the World Music Program at Wesleyan University in 1965, in Connecticut, his goal was to put Western music on the same proportional ground as other musical trends across the globe. The term “world music” actually referred to music from across the world, separated into traditions that pertained to certain geographical boundaries. Thus, the term was meant to be inclusive—not distinguishing Western music from other trends, but putting it on the same stand as everything else.

Brown’s definition of the term, however, did not catch on elsewhere in the United States. The 1970s brought the creation of more institutions with a focus on “world music.” Those institutions would use the term to define “non-Western” or “ethnic” musical trends—something that seemingly has remained until today, to a certain extent. The name became popular, to a point where we now have an entire Billboard chart (established in the 1990s) dedicated to this new marketed “genre.”

But now, in 2019, as you look down that chart, a couple things stand out. As of Jan. 12, the top 12 albums on Billboard’s Top World Albums Chart were released by South Korean K-Pop groups, who perform typically pop, hip hop, or EDM-influenced music. This time last year, Billboard’s top 10 featured K-Pop sensation BTS at the top (hip hop, South Korea), rival group EXO following right behind (R&B, South Korea), and a potluck of international artists: Trio Da Kali and Kronos Quartet (traditional griot, Mali), Celtic Thunder (Celtic folk, Ireland), Residente (hip hop, Puerto Rico). Seemingly, the only similarity between these artists is their non-Americanness, and possibly, the language in which they perform.

Streaming apps, such as Spotify and Apple Music, have already started making efforts—half-assed, but efforts nonetheless—in endowing their platforms with more inclusive labels. Spotify has no world-labelled genre subsection. Instead it has specific, geographically-based ones: Arab, Desi (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh), Afro (non-Arab, often Black artists from Africa), K-Pop and Latin. Apple Music follows a similar trend, with K-Pop and Latino genre labels, yet still provides a world section, with a patchwork selection of genres.

However, the issue with such geographical labels is that, while efficient and somewhat seemingly inclusive, they still make an odd distinction of the “other.” Does your streaming app offer a “Western” subgenre?

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

These geographical labels can be useful—especially if you’re curious about music in a certain language, or from a specific country—but shouldn’t constitute genres in and of themselves. While this could have been different a century ago, the truth is that artists from across the planet now perform in a wide range of styles, regardless of borders. Geographical distinctions can—even should—exist alongside musical distinctions.

Here’s an idea: bring the “world” artists in the “Western” genres. Get NCT 127 (urban hip hop, South Korea) to compete with other pop or hip hop artists. Bring Babylone (indie folk, Algeria) into the folk charts. Don’t keep Maritta Hallani’s latest album, Maritta (pop, Lebanon), to a style limited by the language she sings in. In fact, this isn’t a novel idea: Spanish singer Rosalía was featured in both Apple Music’s World and Pop genre sections with her album El mal querer, a brilliant flamenco record infused with R&B and pop influences. So, why not do the same for everyone?

Feature photo by Sarah Boumedda

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