Hit your reading goals for 2023 with the Concordia Book Club
Are you a bookworm and don’t know what book on your TBR list to attack first? I have a perfect solution for you: Concordia’s very own book club.
Journalism student Alexandra Blackie started the Concordia Book Club this winter semester and is looking forward to welcoming many new students to the club.
Blackie wanted to join a book club when she started university in September, but the only book-related club was Concordia’s comic book club. “No hate to the comic book club but that’s not really my niche,” she said jokingly.
The lack of an actual book club was Blackie’s motivation to kickstart the initiative and form Concordia’s official book club.
“It did take a little bit of a long time for it to get started. There were a lot of back and forth emails with the CSU,” Blackie explained.
Blackie wanted to create a social space that did not feel like school. She wanted a space where book-lovers could come together to read novels that are either popular right now or ones that not a lot of people know about.
In this club, Blackie doesn’t dictate the books that the club members have to read.
“I don’t actually choose the books, I gave them a stack for the first meeting that they chose from. We just go through a TBR jar. Everyone sent me titles that they want to read and we go from there,” Blackie said.
In terms of how the club functions, Blackie came to a mutual agreement with the other club members that they would read one book for the entire month. At the end of the month, the club regroups in a meeting.
“We picked our first book at our first meeting over Zoom out of a pile that they chose from. For the next book that we read, we are going to pick from a TBR jar,” Blackie explained.
This month’s read is The Guest List by Lucy Foley.
The club currently has 22 members. As the weather warms up, Blackie hopes to host in-person events like picnics where the club can discuss their current reads.
For interested participants, you can go through the CSU active club portal and email a_blackie@icloud.com.
The Update is a bit-sized news podcast show where you can get a full update on what is going on at Concordia, and around Montreal. Simply tune-in during your morning commute to be informed!
Welcome to The Update. A bi-weekly news podcast researched, produced and created by The Concordian team.
Students stranded in Winter storms, the CSU is divided over their boycott, a first-of-its-kind Indigenous bridging program, and the Muslim community yet united even more.
In this episode, Podcast Producer Cedric Gallant goes through all the most recent news stories covered by our news editors, Marieke Glorieux-Stryckman and Lucas Marsh.
Music by Saro Hartounian
Graphic by Carleen Loney
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit theconcordian.substack.com
This program, the first of its kind in Quebec, will launch in Fall 2023
Next fall, Concordia will launch its new Kaié:ri Nikawerà:ke Indigenous Bridging Program, which will help Indigenous students get into engineering programs.
The program will be three semesters long and will offer prerequisite courses to Indigenous students who are missing these courses going into their bachelor’s degree. Once they complete the program, students enrolled will be automatically transferred into the engineering program of their choice.
“Particularly, we started in the STEM [Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics] field because there are a lot of educational barriers that some Indigenous communities face when it comes to STEM education,” said the program coordinator Saba Din.
The Kaié:ri Nikawerà:ke Indigenous Bridging Program was part of the recommendations made in the Indigenous Direction Action Plan in 2021. This plan has the goal of decolonizing and indigenizing Concordia University.
“Kaié:ri Nikawerà:ke” is a Kanien’kéha word meaning “the Four Winds” or “the Four Directions.” According to Din, these winds represent growth, renewal, and change.
A core tenet of the Indigenous Bridging Program is to provide a sense of community through a support network for students enlisted in the program. Students will be in the same group for three semesters and will have access to resources to help them transition into university life.
The program will also offer a special student-focused seminar class. This class will cover themes including self-advocating, adapting to life in the city, and rental advice. Guest speakers will include tutors, engineers, or elders, with a priority on Indigenous guests.
“I think that community feeling is really beneficial for long-term success,” said Din. “Especially to ease that transition from wherever they’re coming from, whatever barriers they face.”
Mariah St. Germain, the coordinator of Indigenous Student Success at Concordia’s Otsenhákta Student Centre, is hopeful that the program will help Indigenous students adapt to the post-secondary environment.
“I know how meaningful these programs are for students to bridge the gap and gain access,” said St. Germain. “We want any prospective Indigenous students, and our current Indigenous students, and our alumni, to know that they have a place in the community here and that they’re seen and heard, and that they can thrive in that space.”
While the Indigenous Bridging Program is currently tailored to engineering degrees, Din said they plan to expand the program gradually in the upcoming academic years. The next majors on the list are business and psychology, followed by science and computer science, and finally expanding to arts and science.
“We hope that students feel that they have options,” Din said. “This is just another option for them. Hopefully it opens the door to post-secondary education.”
The newly-launched Megan's Community Fridge offers free food for students facing food insecurity. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian
A step to fight food insecurity for students.
The Hive Cafe on Concordia’s Loyola Campus recently welcomed Megan’s Community Fridge. Students were buzzing with excitement.
Megan’s Community Fridge is a big step in fighting food insecurity for students. Megan Clarke, a Concordia alumna, was the inspiration for this amazing project. Clarke was present at the Hive Cafe on Monday and helped set up the fridge alongside Enuf, an organization fighting the waste crisis.
Courtesy photo provided by Désirée McGraw. (From left to right: Désirée McGraw, Keroles Riad, Megan Clarke, and Alanna Silver)
The Concordian sat with Keroles Riad, the CEO of Enuf and one of the minds behind the Community Fridge. Riad explained that it wasn’t exactly simple to get the project up and running at Concordia.
“Students have been trying to convince the administration to set up a community fridge for at least 10 years, and they have consistently been stalled and eventually turned down,” he said. “We looked for spaces where community groups have a level of autonomy. The Hive Cafe was just perfect, because they already do a lot of work fighting food insecurity on campus, and so they are already reaching the people that need the additional help and they autonomously operate their own spaces on both campuses.”
With the installation of this new fridge, keeping it well-stocked is one of the challenges it currently faces. Riad explained that the fridge will be stocked from the surplus of food that is left over from events happening over the year.
Waste ambassadors from Enuf will gather all the food and bring it to Megan’s Community Fridge.
Clarke sat down with The Concordian and explained what the motivation to start this community fridge was.
“When I was a teenager I found myself in a really tough situation, I was couch surfing and I used to dumpster dive,” Clarke recalled. “My friends and I noticed at a certain point that the dumpsters were being locked to stop people like myself from getting food. At the time, I didn’t have a valid ID to participate in food banks.”
Clarke worked three jobs to get herself out of that situation. Her struggles with food always lingered at the back of her mind and when she began university, she realized that not everyone could get out of the same situation like her.
“I started Food Cycle while I was at Concordia and we would take leftover food and give it to homeless shelters, women’s shelters and so on,” Clarke said.
Megan Clarke in front of the new Megan’s Community Fridge at the Hive Cafe on Concordia’s Loyola Campus. DALIA NARDOLILLO/The Concordian
That’s what kickstarted the idea for the Community Fridge. However, when the pandemic first came along, people became fearful that the virus would be pushed onto food which put a standstill on the project.
Enuf, in partnership with the Hive Cafe, finally got the project going. Working at the Hive Cafe, Alanna Silver is also an integral part of this community fridge. Silver is FoodSafe certified and acts as Enuf’s Chief Operating Officer and the Hive’s administrative coordinator. Riad explained that Silver will ensure the safety of the community being served and have the final say of what goes in the Community Fridge.
“I feel so grateful to have the privilege of taking part in making this project a reality,” Riad said proudly. “It is truly heartbreaking to know that 40 per cent of students in Canada say that they have to choose between paying tuition and buying enough food, at a time when we, in Canada, throw away more than half the food we produce. There is surplus food, and there are hungry student tummies. It shouldn’t have been this complicated to try to connect the two.”
Now that we are in November, many may associate this month with the events linked to Movember.
In case you have been living under a rock, let me break down what Movember is exactly.
Movember is the mustache-growing charity event that occurs all throughout the course of November. The people who choose to participate in Movember donate to charities that support Men’s mental health initiatives. As well as bring awareness to men’s physical health issues like prostate cancer.
Now you might be asking yourself, Movember sounds great but how can I support these events as a student here at Concordia?
This is where the JMo’SB team at Concordia comes into play. In case you have never heard of JMo’SB, they are a non-profit sub-committee within the Commerce and Administration Student Association (CASA) cares. Their entire purpose is to raise money for men’s mental health initiatives throughout the month of November.
The team first started back in 2011 when a group of JMSB students came together to raise funds for Movember.
Fast-forward to last year, the JMo’SB team raised over $42,000 for men’s mental health initiatives. This year the team is aiming to raise over $50,000. If you would like to donate, please visit this page.
The president and co-president of JMo’SB, Liam Pinsonneault-Emond and Andrea Valcarcel gave The Concordian the inside scoop on what’s happening for Movember.
“We don’t actually have an event on November 19th for International Men’s Day but we have a lot of other events happening throughout the month,” Valcarcel said. “For example on November 18th we have a mental health day and it’s going to be at HIVE cafe, and it’s in collaboration with John Molson Women and Leadership. There’s going to be a lot of relaxing activities at that event, like decorating cookies, painting tote bags and there are also going to be panelists.”
The Nov. 18 event will be especially special because speakers from the Movember foundation itself will be among the panelists.
“We are also doing a comedy night which is going to be on November 20th at Montreal comedy club. We are actually in contact with the people from the comedy club and we asked them if the comedians could do a Movember theme. They said that they would try and find comedians that could do that,” Valcarcel explained.
Over the course of Nov. 7-11, the team also hosted two bake sales to further advance their fundraising efforts.
The month of November is an exciting time for the JMo’SB to further incite students at Concordia to participate in their events. Emond made a point to emphasize not to forget about one important thing during this month.
“For the people that this could sort of resonate with, if you have men in your life that are close to you, check in with them from time to time,” Emond explained. “Talk to them and make sure that they are okay, it doesn’t sound like much but just asking a guy how his day is going or how he’s doing, it would mean a lot to them.”
Union activist and writer Nora Loreto speaks at Concordia about labour organizing and the strength collective power.
Every year the Concordia Student Union (CSU) organizes a speaker series, collaborating with guest speakers from outside the University. This year, they decided to tie the series in with their annual campaign on housing and labour.
“Things we really want to do with this annual campaign is bringing this conversation up, and have it in public discourse,” said Julianna Smith, external and mobilization coordinator of the CSU. “It’s important to have speakers coming in from different perspectives to help relate to all the different facets of the Concordia population.”
She notes that during COVID “we’ve had an opportunity where people are reflecting on their housing situations, their employment, and they’re recognizing that things don’t have to be as they are.” She notes the possibility of action that comes from that.
Smith emphasizes that she “really wants to make sure that the speakers who come in really represent Concordia students and are interested.”
Writer and activist Nora Loreto came to speak at Concordia on Oct. 18 about her experience as an executive of the Canadian Freelance Union (CFU). The CFU is an organization representing freelance communication, acting like lawyers for people who are not paid for their labour. The work people do within the union is based on skill.
Loreto co-hosts the Sandy & Nora Talk Politics podcast and has written three books. Her latest book, Spin Doctors: How Media and Politicians Misdiagnosed the COVID-19 Pandemic was nominated for the Quebec Writers’ Federation’s Mavis Gallant Prize for Non-Fiction in 2022.
Her talk included themes of organization, collective power, and how we build collective power in the context of today and throughout COVID.
The talk was about the objective of the labour relations regime in Canada and how we can restore power to that balance, or if it is time to completely replace it with something more radical.
Loreto began her talk by stating, “I come at the world through student-organizing eyes, and when you are a student you realize you have almost no power.”
“You want to have power, you want to shut stuff down, you want to occupy buildings or offices, but you really don’t have much power, and worse than that you’re paying these people to put a boot to your neck.”
Thus far, the CFU has not lost a single case. “We use the tactics of the labour movement in our union,” said Loreto. Her history as a manager of a unionized office informed her work.
“Within liberal democracy, the way it is supposed to work is you have different actors that interact for the operation of the state,” she said.
Labour relations were codified in 1946, and in the years that followed that compromise collapsed with “more workers having fewer rights, fewer workers covered by unions, balancing work for profit.”
“The really cool thing about being part of a student union in Quebec is we have the same legal recognition as a labour union, so it’s interesting to think about our academic labour relations in terms of labour relations,” noted Smith.
Judging by the success of the event, to the questions asked during the Q&A, it is clear that the talk was much needed by the Concordia student community.
Internet permanence and its effects on a student journalist
I love writing for the commentary section every week. I fill my Notes app with article ideas about light and silly topics. I dabble in satire, and ask the real questions, like why pets with food names are inherently adorable.
Writing “fluff” brings me (and hopefully others) laughter and joy, which is absolutely necessary in what is often a bleak newscape. I also strongly believe that it still offers creative commentary on the world. This article is not meant to discredit the fun stuff — ‘cause after all, it’s just as important.
However, as I’ve noticed this trend in my own writing tendencies, I’ve been pondering whether there’s something holding me back from tackling more “serious” issues.
While I often don’t feel like writing about these topics, when there’s something I do feel passionately about, there’s always a voice in my head telling me that sticking to what I know will never be controversial.
As a 20-year-old student, I’m often scared that I don’t have enough real-life experience to comment on big world issues. When I’m researching, no matter how much reading I do, I still feel uninformed and nervous to express how I feel.
Although some of these sentiments can be chalked up to impostor syndrome or a valid concern of not wanting to contribute to misinformation, part of my hesitancy stems from the permanence of the internet.
While archives of student newspapers have always existed, the accessibility of the internet raises the stakes for student journalists who are learning and experimenting through student media.
Voicing my opinions on more serious topics is scary because I know that anything that I publish now will follow me for the rest of my professional career.
I might be proud of my writing and my arguments at this stage, but I’m worried that in the future, I might change stances or develop more nuanced perspectives. I might not necessarily want my 20-year-old opinions to be easily accessible and out there forever.
At times, it seems ridiculous to hold my tongue in fear of something that may very well never happen. It’s completely possible that I will stay the same in all of my convictions for the rest of my life. But, I also want to keep an open mind and learn new things that will challenge these convictions.
I know that I should voice my opinions and trust people to understand personal and professional growth over time, but leaving that interpretation up to others is often daunting. It’s a concern that’s new to our generation of journalists that we will have to figure out as we go.
In the meantime, I’m going to try not to let the concept of internet permanence scare me from speaking out when I have something valuable to add to the dialogue. I’m going to try to not be afraid of being judged for the way I present my opinions.
As a journalist writing for the public interest, I shouldn’t need to censor my articles in case myself or others don’t agree with me later down the road. As long as I continue to base my writing on facts, diligent research, and good intentions, I’ll be okay, right?
Here are a few tips, tricks, and resources to make your summer a memorable and adventurous one!
Not sure what you’re going to do with your summer? We’ve compiled some cheap options and resources that you can use this summer that are student discount friendly.
Travelling may be difficult with COVID-19 restrictions, so all of the destinations listed are open to vaccinated travellers leaving from Canada as of April 14.
But first, here are the tools you will need to find the best prices for accommodation, flights, and transportation.
Flights
To find the cheapest flight on any airline to any destination, sites like FlightHub and KAYAK are the places to go. Some trips may also have special call-in prices that could be lower than what other sites may estimate. Just remember that these are third-party agencies, so getting reimbursed for a cancelled trip may prove more difficult.
Accommodation
Finding a place to stay depends on the budget of the traveller. For those feeling adventurous or on an extreme budget, the website Couchsurfing allows travellers to stay on a local’s couch completely free.
If that idea is a little intimidating, hostels are also a great option to meet other travellers. Hostelworld is the one-stop site with millions of reviews, and finding a hostel in any city with it is a breeze.
If you prefer privacy, Airbnb or Trivago are also great options for private accommodation like hotels or apartments, at a premium. Although, depending on the size of your group, Airbnb may end up costing much less than a hostel stay.
Transportation
Depending on where you decide to go, public transit and walking is always the cheapest option, but if you have to hop on a train or want to rent a car, here are some great resources: HappyRail (Europe), Eurail (Europe), and KAYAK (global).
It’s also important to remember that Uber is not global, and if you’re somewhere where taking a cab is a consideration, it’s important to research average prices beforehand — don’t let yourself be the tourist that pays triple what they should. Also, remember city taxis are not always safe at each destination. A quick Reddit search should help you learn from other tourists and even some locals.
With gas prices being at an all-time high, the classic summer road trip may not be the cheapest option. Instead, check out train prices for super cheap round-trip prices this summer:
For those wanting to catch some rays this summer, here are plenty of cheap flights to beaches to choose from:
All prices listed were found using Flighthub for the months of May, June and July.
Miami, USA: $350+
With plenty of beaches to choose from, Miami is a great city to explore this summer with its vibrant nightlife. You can grab a room in a hostel for as low as $25+/night.
Cancún, Mexico: $500+
Remember to pack your sunscreen when you go, because the summer heat in Cancun stays around 30 degrees. Even though the heat will get to you, you won’t have to sweat the cost with hostels being as low as $9+ a night.
Montego Bay, Jamaica: $500+
The white sand beaches and crisp blue waters of Montego Bay are a great place to spend your summer lounging around or exploring. Hostels start at $25+/night.
Guatemala City, Guatemala: $500+
Guatemala City has a mix of great food, jungle temples, secret coves, and colourful neighbourhoods for you to explore this summer for cheap with an average cost of $39+/day including hostels priced at $10+/night.
San Jose and Liberia, Costa Rica: $600+
Costa Rica offers plenty to do, whether you want to sit and lounge the whole trip or hike up an active volcano. Both San Jose and Liberia have hostels priced at $13+/night.
Bogotá, Colombia: $650+
If you want to have a mix of city and jungle, Bogotá is the place for you. With plenty of historic sites and culture to experience, there will never be a dull moment on your trip. Hostels are cheap starting at $5+/night.
Belize City, Belize: $750+
If you’re looking to catch some waves and surf this summer, Belize may be the destination for you. The city has an array of activities to choose from, from exploring caves to whitewater rafting — it’s perfect for the active traveller. With hostels starting at $35+/ night, this destination is the most expensive option.
Leaving the tropics, here are some cheap flights to Europe where you could either choose to stay or grab a cheap train or flight with Ryanair or easyJet to anywhere from North Africa to the Middle East and Asia.
Dublin, Ireland: $550+
This summer you can experience the vibrant Irish nightlife or explore medieval castles and the beautiful landscapes featured in shows like Game of Thrones. Hostels start at $28+/night and one way flights out of the country for as low as $22+.
Lisbon, Portugal: $700+
A beautiful city to explore on foot, Lisbon offers travellers a perfect European experience for cheap. Hostels start at $18+/night and flights to other cities start at $41+.
Paris, France: $700+
The daily cost of living in Paris makes this one of the most expensive destinations on the list, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a great place to travel to on a budget. Parisian nightlife and art make the city a great destination for those who want to gain some European culture this summer. Hostels start at $26+/ night, and this is a great city to travel from with flights out of the country as low as $12+.
The world is back open for you to explore after the last two years of COVID-19, so take advantage of some cheap destinations this summer and go somewhere new!
It’s important to remember that you do not need to have a lot of money to explore the world. Just because you are on a budget does not mean you have to settle for a staycation this summer!
You’re scrolling through your “For You” page when you come across a video of a woman imitating a man putting on lip balm. He purses her lips into a quasi duck-face and squints in concentration. Then, he applies the balm in sharp, equal circles, pinching the applicator with all his fingers with a fervor that seems like it could shatter the plastic.
Does this image revolt you? You might have a lip-balm-applying ick.
Though no one can pinpoint where exactly the term ick originated, like most people, I first heard it mentioned in a TikTok. Shortly after I first came across it, the word ick became a common presence in group chats and conversations where romantic prospects were being discussed.
Urban Dictionary defines an ick as “something someone does that is an instant turn-off for you, making you instantly hate the idea of being with them romantically,” which perfectly encapsulates my understanding of the word.
Icks aren’t the same as red flags — they are trivial things that really shouldn’t affect one’s perception of a romantic partner, but end up having an overpowering effect.
For that reason, icks would be a fantastic topic for a research essay! But for the sake of this article, I’m going to take a sillier route, and propose a deeper dive into the most ridiculous icks that I could find.
Using a question sticker on Instagram (my favourite and most reliable way of gathering balanced and unbiased information, of course), I asked about the most insane icks that irk my followers or people they know. The results did not disappoint.
With this data, I’ve compiled a list of the top four most ridiculous icks, along with colourful commentary on the validity and/or absurdity of the ick produced by these inconsequential actions.
Country Roads Won’t Take Her Home
It’s 2 a.m. and the bar is clearing out. Your crush is sitting with abysmal posture when “Take Me Home, Country Roads” by John Denver starts playing. They immediately shoot up and begin slurring along with a soft southern drawl. It’s haunting and glass-shattering. In my books, this ick is absolutely valid — no one wants to be taken home after that display (though perhaps I’d consider it if Denver’s ballad was swapped with a Taylor Swift banger… is that just me?). I also love that this one has a story behind it; this ick would literally never cross anyone’s mind unless it happened to them.
Jacket Challenges
Do you know when you’re trying to put on your jacket and you’ve already got one arm in the sleeve, but you just can’t get the other to go in? There’s this ridiculous flailing and shimmying that occurs which instantaneously diminishes sex appeal faster than JMSB bros will teach you about crypto. While this paints a hilarious image, this ick just completely obliterates the Montreal dating pool. We all need to wear jackets, and unfortunately, we can’t always dawn them oh-so gracefully.
Grammar-Gate
You can tell that a journalist submitted this one. To them, there’s nothing less attractive than using the wrong “their,” and they’ll probably cut you off after one too many misplaced commas. I kind of get it — I love a properly positioned semi-colon as much as the next J-school gal, but I also want to stress the difference between grammar mistakes because of not knowing or caring (ew, gross), and grammar mistakes because of a learning disability or having to write in language that’s not your mother tongue (completely understandable and DEFINITELY not an ick).
The Ping-Pong Run
There’s something intrinsically humiliating about chasing after a ping-pong ball that has fallen off the table. You feel like a puppy playing fetch, except instead of being flipping adorable, you’re lumbering, clumsy, and are meekly crawling under a radiator to grasp a tiny white orb. It’s not a cute look. It’s also pretty universal — does anyone look good chasing after a ping-pong ball? But still, nothing screams sexy about that ordeal. The only solution: don’t play ping-pong in front of your crush, unless you plan on never dropping the ball.
In short, while some icks are simply hilarious, others pinpoint things that are just gross (see: crusty pasta sauce remnants around the corner of one’s lips). Yes, icks are often superficial and silly, but they add a sense of validity to a lack of romantic attraction that helps people to better understand their preferences. But perhaps the biggest ick of all is trying to over-analyze them, so I’ll just quit while I’m ahead, and let them exist to entertain.
Moving back to Montreal. ASHLEY FISH ROBERTSON/The Concordian
You never forget your first love
When I think back to my first love, an image of a person doesn’t come to mind, but rather, a place: my first apartment.
It was a charming five-and-a-half located across from Rosemont’s Maisonneuve Park, and featured abundant natural light, worn-in hardwood floors, and an alley cat who regularly frequented the balcony. It also came with the lingering smell of cigarettes from previous occupants.
As anyone would probably tell you about their first place, it certainly wasn’t perfect; the ceiling in the bathroom was gradually caving in, the kitchen sink had a tendency to clog, and the walls were thin enough to hear the neighbours argue over what to have for dinner. Still, despite all its flaws, I was 19 and was about to live with my two best friends. Life was golden.
Before moving into my dream apartment, I had left the province I grew up in for New Brunswick. It was during spring break of 2018 that I realized I wanted to move back home to Quebec. I was residing in Fredericton, studying at the University of New Brunswick. Having spent most of my childhood living in a small village in the Argenteuil region of Quebec, I wanted to escape to somewhere new the second I finished my senior year of high school. As fun as it was to move to a city where I knew nobody, I began to miss the familiarity of home.
When I flew home to Quebec for spring break, my friends and I spent the night bar hopping in downtown Montreal. On the taxi ride back to our Airbnb, I remember being so mesmerized by the skyline, with its abundance of highrise condos and towering office buildings. Even at 3 a.m., the city was lively and teeming with pedestrians. It was exactly the kind of place where I could see myself living.
Back in Fredericton, I was used to most nights out ending around midnight. Everything moved so much slower on the east coast, something that I had enjoyed at first, but was beginning to grow tired of. When I returned back to Fredericton after spring break, I decided to finish my freshman year and move to Montreal as soon as I wrote my last exam.
Moving to Montreal. ASHLEY FISH-ROBERTSON/The Concordian
When I moved back to Quebec, the apartment hunt began (and my god, was it excruciating). After countless visits, my roommates and I were running low on patience. It was on a humid evening in June that we finally found a place.
To call it a pigsty would be an understatement; the entrance closet, instead of housing shoes and coats, contained a massive pyramid fashioned from empty beer cans. In the kitchen, the current tenants were gathered around a small table, smoking cigarettes and playing cards, with empty Domino’s boxes scattered haphazardly on the floor.
We left feeling confused. Sure, the place was atrocious, we agreed, but did you see those windows? And those hardwood floors? And the double sinks? I’d watched enough house flipping shows to know what a good cleaning job could do, and so we figured that a makeover would render the place liveable. It took many hours, but we succeeded.
In the months that followed, we all began to settle into our new independent lives. We bought our own groceries (and quickly realized how much it would cost to feed ourselves), we argued over whose turn it was to wash the dishes, and we learned to balance part-time jobs and school. It was simultaneously liberating and exhausting. I’m almost certain none of us knew at the time that 2018 would be the best year of our lives.
Our apartment became our one true safe haven, a place where we could escape to when faced with heartbreak, treacherous Canadian snowstorms, or just a bad day at work. Even when we were in our own rooms, we were comforted by the fact that company was right down the hall, just a knock away.
Some of my best memories took place here, from cooking spaghetti together, to lounging on the balcony while listening to The Doors, to night strolls through Maisonneuve Park. Outside of this apartment, we all felt like misfits. And so, in this place, we resembled some sort of odd family, one that wasn’t bound by blood but instead by a shared space.
Saying goodbye. ASHLEY FISH ROBERTSON/The Concordian
Nothing prepared me for the day I bid farewell to my first place. It was an immensely bittersweet experience. I often find myself thinking of my last moments in that apartment. I remember handing over our keys to the landlord and stealing one last glimpse of the empty living room before closing the door behind me. I made sure to sear that image in my mind because, frankly, I was — and still am — terrified of forgetting all the memories that took place there.
On days when I’m not pressed for time, I’ll walk past the apartment building. The curtains are still drawn wide open just as they had been when we lived there, affording prying eyes a glimpse into the modest but welcoming kitchen. If I focus hard enough, I can picture my roommates and I still sitting around the table, each of us discussing our day with one another over plates of spaghetti.
Instead of focusing on the goodbyes, this is how I choose to remember my first year on my own: in the company of two of my favourite people.
From left: Concordia students Ulayu Sequaluk, Daphne Tooktoo, and Ayagutak May. (Not pictured: Jason Annahatak) CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
Students from Quebec’s northernmost region go through thick and thin to have post-secondary education. Four of them shared how they surmounted these challenges and what the future holds for them.
On decisive days, ambitious Inuit students board Canadian North or Air Inuit-tagged planes with most of their belongings, saying goodbye to their families and hometowns.
Watching from their porthole, the lakes, rocky meadows and forests slowly dissolve into houses, highways, buildings and towers.
Between 1,100 to 1,900 kilometres separate Nunavik communities and Montreal. A select few decide to tackle this challenge in the pursuit of post-secondary studies.
Nunavik is Quebec’s northernmost region. It has 14 Inuit communities, Kuujjuaq being the most populous with around 3,000 inhabitants. Students from these communities must leave the region to access post-secondary studies.
Four students shared their stories with The Concordian.
The system in place
Before diving into the student’s stories, we need to summarise the system that is in place for them. Nunavik students wishing to pursue post-secondary education in the south must first apply for a sponsorship at the Post-Secondary Student Services department of Kativik Ilisarniliriniq, which translates as ‘school board in English’.
The institution provides financial, social, and academic support for students when moving to wherever they want to study.
However, even with all the support provided by Kativik Ilisarniliriniq, profound challenges remain.
The Kativik School Board estimates that “three per cent of Inuit have a diploma of college studies, compared with 37.4 per cent for Quebec as a whole. The rate for a certificate, diploma or university degree is two per cent compared to 30.9 per cent for Quebec overall.”
In 2018, Quebec’s Ombudsmanreported that, “Despite promising initiatives, access to postsecondary studies remains difficult” in Nunavik.
As a previous post-secondary director, Annahatak admits that seeing these statistics can be “quite disheartening.”
From his understanding, part of the problem is that “the few students who graduate high school are like superstars” in their communities. “They were the big fish in a small pond,” he said. “When they come here, they become a very small fish in a huge ocean, and that’s a big hit to the ego.”
Another problem is the lack of support post-secondary students have at the community level.
Annahatak said that students “do not get a lot of support for coming to school in general.” Having been a director, he mentioned, “I knew there were some students who were actively discouraged from going to college.”
Because of this, Annahatak said that “there are no role models” for post-secondary students to look up to. He points out that the few graduates who are engineers or lawyers were raised and educated in the south, putting them into a separate category altogether.
Michelle Smith, Métis Cinema-Communications teacher at Dawson College and principal investigator forthe First Peoples’ Post-secondary Storytelling Exchange research project (FPPSE), interviewed dozens of Indigenous students studying away from their home communities. A few of them were from Nunavik.
Smith provided another perspective on the situation.
“On the one hand, [students] are trying to navigate the western system of learning to acquire skills that they did not build in high school,” she explained. “On the other hand, they are in this place of deep questioning about who they are and who they want to be.”
She said that these two factors alone can be overwhelming for students.
This western system of learning was a prominent aspect in Smith’s research. She said that “post-secondary systems are still modelled on a certain type of learning where reading and writing are really important qualities to have.”
“I see so many brilliant, young minds who are able to talk at length about deep knowledge and understanding of their culture,” she said. However, “writing this knowledge down in a formal structured essay with all the rules and expectations is not always going to happen, and it doesn’t mean that the person is not capable.”
Both Smith’s FPPSE project and the report made by Quebec’s Ombudsman concluded that there are many problems Kativik Ilisarniliriniq should resolve for better education in Nunavik.
There are no science or math prerequisite courses in Nunavik, preventing students from partaking in science programs. Both reports suggest additional support for students to transition from high school to college and university. There should also be more post-secondary options offered in Nunavik.
With this appropriate context laid out, we can now turn to the stories provided by our students from Nunavik; looking at how their journeys started, the various challenges faced, and how they surmounted them.
The birth of purpose
From Kuujjuaq is Ayagutak May, a political science and First Peoples studies student at Concordia. Fellow Kuujjuamiut (an Inuktitut word meaning “from Kuujjuaq”) is psychology and First Peoples studies student Ulayu Sequaluk. From Kuujjuaraapik is graphic design student Daphne Tooktoo. Last but not least is Jason Annahatak from Kangirsuk. He has two master’s degrees; one in psychological counselling and the other in business. He was also the director for post-secondary services in Nunavik for four and a half years.
All of their stories began with a purpose.
May’s purpose first showed itself during her last two years of high school. Her Inuktitut teacher encouraged the school to add Inuit history as part of the educational curriculum, and it was then that she was first exposed to the realities her ancestors faced through residential schools.
Ayagutak May. CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
“I was not fully aware of what happened to my community, especially to my community,” she said. “Knowing that my family went through a lot of hardships and trauma back in the day… that’s what motivated me into doing something more.”
“Discovering more about my heritage and colonization gave me ambition to help my community by pursuing a university degree.”
Even though Sequaluk lived in Montreal for years, she said that her purpose came when she returned home to Kuujjuaq after studying Global Makeup at Vancouver’s Blanche Macdonald Centre. She started working part time at the Nunavik Regional Board of Health and Social Services’ suicide prevention initiative.
Ulayu Suqualuk. CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
“The work I was doing there was just more fulfilling. And given the very high suicide rate in Nunavik, I just got really tired of seeing all my friends die… so I wanted to do something about it, and I did.”
Tooktoo said that she started post-secondary studies long after graduating high school and raising her family. In 2014, she made the leap and enrolled in CEGEP. She first went to John Abbott College in the Graphic and Web Design program. Afterwards, she attended University of Victoria’s Visual Arts program in British Columbia. Now, she is continuing her degree at Concordia.
She said that “there are a lot of graphic designs on the web that are not translated into Inuktitut,” and she aims to create a larger Inuit and Indigenous presence on the web.
Annahatak’s story started with a desire for adventure. He said that he “wanted to experience something beyond high school, to live in a city and try something outside of a small town.” There are around 600 people in his hometown of Kangirsuk.
He admitted that his journey was “a bit of a winding path.” He wanted to study business, but he felt his math skills were not up to par. “I got discouraged, and went into social sciences, from there I started studying psychology.”
The pitfalls
“It was very hard to be in class with so many people and adapt to the structure of how they teach,” May shared. “Homework was very new to me; it was like a pile of things that I had no idea what to do with.”
Daphne Tooktoo in her hometown of Kuujjuaraapik. CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
Tooktoo said that language was her toughest hurdle. “The most challenging part was my English, because it’s my fourth language,” she said. “I grew up learning Inuit and listening to Cree people. I went to a French elementary school and then I did CEGEP in English.” During class, she often had to check her dictionary to know what everything meant.
Another core difficulty was homesickness. May said that moving out “is a very emotional moment for us because we get homesick, we miss eating our country food and going camping.” Since the city is anything but a natural environment, both of these needs cannot be fulfilled.
Sequaluk added to this point by saying, “you go from 3,000 people in your hometown to a school of over 3,000 kids in a big city, the culture shock is huge.” She added that “a lot of people quit school, not because they can’t handle it. They quit because they’re homesick.”
Annahatak faced culture shock, homesickness, and a new system of learning at the age of 16. He lived in Montreal with his parents for a year. He couldn’t wait until the year was over so that he could go back to his community.
He explained that the western system “felt sort of loud” to him. “To some extent, there is a lot of emphasis put on talking,” he said. “You have to produce, you have to be out there and make space so you can be heard.” In the Inuit world, he said “there is more emphasis put on listening, being quiet and paying attention to your environment.”
When Annahatak enrolled in CEGEP, it was a totally different story. Having been to high-school in Montreal, it gave him a head start, and he knew what he was getting himself into. However, he understood quickly that post-secondary education was also academically challenging. “It’s like going from the minor leagues to the major leagues in terms of what you need to produce and the quality of writing.”
However, in the end, all four managed to find their own strategies to make their university experiences enjoyable.
Strategies to surmount
May’s adapting process is still ongoing. But she found comfort in bringing her country food here to relieve her homesickness. Things like Tuktuk (caribou), Puijiviniq (seal meat), Iqaluk (fish), Mattak (beluga), among others, are her meals of choice.
She also added that having a child grounded her, even with all the responsibilities that come with motherhood. “Ever since I had my daughter, I am more focused on what I want to do, I am more ambitious, and she makes me feel so much better when I am down south.”
Sequaluk said, “I make a real effort to practice my Inuktitut and do cultural things while I am here, just so I don’t forget that part of my identity.” She followed by saying, “I think it’s just a balance, and I do realize not everyone handles being in the city all that well, and I don’t judge them when they go back up north.”
Ulayu Sequaluk at Concordia’s Loyola campus. CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
For Tooktoo, she doubled down on learning English. Now, she can attend school and understand university-level language without the need of a dictionary.
What helped Annahatak was his friend group. He was surrounded by fellow Inuit students who were going through similar difficulties, although he admitted that he “did not try hard enough to make friends with non-Inuit people” in CEGEP. In university, he changed that for the better.
He advised all Nunavik post-secondary students to “have a sense of exploration. Even if the homework is unpleasant, it is part of the package of socializing, having fun and learning about life,” which makes the overall experience more enjoyable.
He kept this mentality when he travelled all over the world,from South Africa to Hong Kong. That sense of exploration helped him rekindle his Inuk identity. “Once I started travelling, my identity became a source of intrigue and interest,” he shared. Some people would ask where his family name came from, and he said that “sometimes it started a really nice conversation where I got the chance to talk about Inuit people.” This made him take pride in who he was.
What’s to come
With time, the purpose that guided our storytellers through their hardships helped them form clear objectives.
Ayagutak May at the Otsenhákta Student Centre in the Hall Building. CEDRIC GALLANT/The Concordian
May has a distinct inspiration that helps guide her on her path: her aunt Mary Simon, Canada’s governor general.
For her, Simon is a beacon of inspiration, driving her to make a change in her home community.
That change consists of joining Nunavik’s political sphere. May said, “my biggest goal would be for Nunavik to become functionally self-governing in a way that fits Inuit concepts and ways of knowing. To give a positive and thriving environment for Nunavimmiut where trauma, substance abuse, and suicide could be decreased.”
Sequaluk’s goals are about reshaping the field of psychology. If she gets a doctorate, she will create “Inuit-led and Inuit safe practices, because there is a lot of distrust within the healthcare system, especially for mental health.”
That strategy is about intertwining cultural practices with mental healing. It is called “on-the-land healing.” She followed this by saying that her method “would be to integrate on-the-land healing with psychological approaches [she] has learned in school.”
After the doctorate, she wishes to lead her own field of research and break new boundaries. However, she is aware that “a lot of academics do not regard Indigenous research as being serious. So, there is that hurdle to go over in the future.”
For Tooktoo, it’s about increasing Indigenous and Inuit presence online. She knows that by herself, it is a task that would take many lifetimes. “I want to teach at my local school,” she said. “A computer class that I will be teaching in my own language.”
While she currently makes websites and designs in Inuktitut, she wants to bring her knowledge to a new generation of young web designers to increase the online representation of Indigenous languages and art styles.
Years after graduating, Annahatak still seeks out new experiences. During his time as post-secondary director, he started his second master’s degree in business. He now works in the economical development department of the Makivik Corporation, an Indigenous organization that helps develop businesses in Nunavik.
In terms of systemic issues, Annahatak remains hopeful. He points out a couple of initiatives that have the potential to solve a few problems for post-secondary students.
He talked about Montreal’s Nunavik Sivunitsavut, a one-year bridging program that teaches skills rooted in Inuit culture. He said that it “serves as a nice incubator where students build their self-esteem and collective pride.”
He also mentioned JUMP Math Canada, an online platform that helps educate students at home. In an article for Nunatsiaq News, reporter Elaine Anselmi wrote that “It was conceived as a resource for educators to find lessons shaped by the Inuit worldview,” supporting teachers and families alike. For Annahatak, these programs are steps in the right direction.
He acknowledged that sometimes, he feels there are no improvements. “Some days, I think we are regressing.” However, he admitted that “there is very incremental progress.” Between laughs, he added, “progress that is going at a glacier’s speed!”
