Tag: students

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Opinions

Hot take: It’s ok to “ghost” people

Before you cancel me, hear me out – ghosting is not that deep

I hear and understand you – ghosting sucks, and it hurts. But I’m here to tell you not to take it personally.

Full disclosure, my intentions are good. I’m not trying to gaslight you or invalidate your feelings. As someone who used to take ghosting really badly, I assure you that it’s not a big deal.

As the term implies, ghosting means to act like a ghost and vanish from someone’s life, abruptly cutting off all communication with a person you’re seeing or dating with zero warning or notice. Oftentimes, when people ghost, they leave the other person on either “delivered” or “seen” on all social media.

On an Instagram poll I created last week asking my followers whether they think ghosting is ok, 54 people voted yes, and 18 people responded it wasn’t.

“People don’t owe you anything. Sometimes getting ghosted is better than having your questions answered,” said 22-year-old Oliver Ocampo.

“I think being okay and used to [being] ghosted builds character and allows you to keep in mind that people are meant to come and go,” Ocampo added.

Some may argue that leaving the person high and dry with no explanation or warning is a lack of maturity. A recurring answer from my followers is the principle of mutual respect.

“It’s not a question of owing people. It’s a question of human decency. Imagine if everyone lived their lives on the basis of ‘I don’t owe them anything.’ The world would be a toxic place,” said Dean Dadidis, a third-year biology major at Concordia University.

I’ve had my fair share of ghosting stories. I’ve been ghosted, and I’ve also ghosted.

I do believe, though, it depends on the context and the person in question. If it’s someone you don’t really know who you’ve gone on a few dates with or occasionally talked to here and there, then I think it’s fine!

From my experience, the people I’ve ghosted were guys I didn’t particularly know well or care enough to reject them formally.

The way I see it, ghosting is still a rejection. I guess it’s a more “subtle” way of letting someone know you’re uninterested.

Personally, I don’t mind either way of rejection, whether it’s the formal message or being left on “read.” Both hurt the same, and I moved on. However, I do understand some people might need closure.

“It depends on the situation, but it’s always best to say something to close the chapter,” said Laura Matheuszik, a student at Dawson College.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you’re in a situation where you’re being ghosted, take it with a grain of salt.

I agree and stand with Ocampo — honestly, I don’t think it’s that terrible.

Sometimes people have their own issues and can’t be bothered to let the other person know. Others are just not good at confrontation. That’s ok. That’s their problem, not yours. I’ve learned not to let it affect my self esteem or question my self-worth.

Whether or not you agree with my opinion, I hope you understand where us “ghosters” are coming from. Hence, do not let the act of being ghosted affect the way you view yourself!

Now, the question of the hour – should we normalize ghosting?

Graphic by Madeline Schmidt

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Opinions

Do famous namesakes take the cake?

James Fay

The varying implications of being named after someone famous

What belongs to you, but everybody else uses it?

Your name of course!

Through your groans from my abominable dad joke, you’ve hopefully started to think about the notions of names and naming, and perhaps how strange it is that you identify and respond to a certain mixture of sounds that your parents chose a little while back.

I’ve always found names fascinating, and I’ve been known to wonder what makes people pick certain ones over others, or how names impact the people they correspond to.

I know why my name was chosen — my first name, Talia, is a name my parents loved and was inspired by my late great-grandmother, Tilly. My middle name, Regan, is a modern take on Regina, my other late great-grandmother’s name. Both were strong and kind women who also happened to be seamstresses (a skill that is not transferable by name, let me and my embarrassing mending jobs tell you…).

My name gives me a legacy to live up to, and it made me wonder how other people feel about theirs if they’ve been named after another person.

In particular, I became curious about those who are named after celebrities or movie characters. Do they feel an urge to measure up to them? Do they become a model for their aspirations? What happens if the celebrities do something wrong?

As usual, I took to my trusty Instagram story to see what I could find.

Liza Shahin is named after Liza Minnelli, the American actress, singer, dancer and choreographer.

“They wanted a name with an L because [of] my great grandmother,” she said of her parents, who wanted to commemorate their late relative. Shahin continued on to say that her mom was the one really set on the name Liza. “She really loves [Minnelli] as an artist, and she loves Cabaret and stuff like that.”

“I would say I know more [about Minelli] than the average person our age because of my name,” Shahin said, noting that about 50 per cent of the time she introduces herself, she gets asked if she was named after the superstar.

Shahin explained that she’s never felt that there was expectation to live up to Minnelli (thankfully, since that would be a pretty tall order), but she loves that she’s named after her.

“Based on performances, she’s kind of bubbly and I can be kind of bubbly,” said Shahin when asked whether they have similar qualities. “But that’s really about it. I don’t think I’m musical, really, and that’s what she’s known for.”

“She has a song called ‘Liza with a “Z”’ and it’s all about how everybody mispronounces her name,” said Shahin. “So that is the most I feel connected to her.”

Liza Minnelli is a pretty safe celebrity to be named after, but Shahin wonders what it would be like to be named after someone more problematic. “I feel like it’s easy to be named after someone, and then, like, they do something bad,” she said.

That being said, she posits that this problem of namesakes and “cancel culture” will probably become more of an issue as we get older and name our children after celebrities, since our generation is the one that tends to do the “cancelling.”

Sam Novack has a middle name straight from the Temple of Doom, and gives some perspective on what it’s like to be named after a fictional character.

If you haven’t already guessed, Novack’s middle name is Indiana, after Indiana Jones, a fictional archaeology professor and the hero of four movies to date.

“He probably just really liked Indiana Jones,” said Novack, referring to his father and explaining that his dad got to choose a “random” name because his mom got to choose one for his sister.

“Growing up, I watched the movies with my dad and we had them all on DVD,” he said. “I really never felt so much of an attachment to it.”

Despite the lack of profound effect from having this awesome middle name, Novack explained that he did “used to really want the same kind of hat as him,” which to me is as profound as it gets.

While Alexa Toguri-Laurin isn’t named after a celebrity, she explained that she does share a name with the Amazon cloud-based voice service, which has brought up similar issues that come from celebrity namesakes.

“Some girls have either funny experiences or really disheartening experiences,” said Toguri-Laurin. “For me, I kind of get annoyed with the joke, but I kind of got used to it.”

Toguri-Laurin stressed that her attitude towards all the Alexa jokes is not the case for everyone. She mentioned a recent BBC article about parents calling on Amazon to change their product’s name because their daughters were being bullied for sharing a name with the voice service.

Amazon so thoughtfully responded by apologizing and informing the public that there are options to change the settings on their products to respond to a different name than Alexa, but that they wouldn’t abolish Alexa entirely.

While there’s no straight formula to choosing a good namesake, it’s safe to say that names are powerful — they have the ability to inspire, commemorate, and even cause pain. Personally, I’d stick to people who have already passed or fictional characters that can’t surprise you with awful actions, but that’s just me. Just please steer clear from politicians — you’ll thank me later.

Graphic by James Fay

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Ar(t)chives

Do StudyTok hacks really help?

Too much time on TikTok can actually have productivity benefits

 

I know I spend too much time on TikTok. I tell myself that it’s mainly for journalistic research, which is at least partially true, considering that this article, as well as many others of mine, are inspired by videos I see while scrolling through my TikTok feed.

While the majority of my For You Page is riddled with Taylor Swift conspiracy theories, cute thrifted outfits, and cool new restaurants to try, a study hack sometimes slips into the mix (maybe that’s the algorithm telling me something…).

Because I have a pretty intense week of schoolwork coming up, I decided that this would be a perfect time to test out some of the tricks that I’ve saved over time and see if they actually work for me.

Textbook heaven

The first one I tried is a true game changer. Maybe I’ve just been living under a rock, but I was completely excited to see that something like this exists.

Z-lib.org is a free textbook library that gives you easy access to textbooks and research material, which is particularly helpful when the university libraries don’t have what you’re looking for or when you want to save some cash. I was writing a paper and needed a specific book that was already signed out from the university library. To my pleasant surprise, it was on z-lib and I didn’t even have to go in to get a copy!

Too good to be true

The next tip was definitely too good to be true. I saw a TikTok boasting about the “TLDR” Chrome extension that summarizes long readings into bullet points to save time. I have an absurd amount of reading to do this week, so I was stoked to try it.

I probably should have known that it wouldn’t actually work, but I was still quite disappointed when it spewed out gibberish that honestly confused me more than the reading itself. There were two settings: short/concise and detailed/section-wise, but they both came up with the same useless summaries. I also tried with another academic article in case the one I had was the reason it wasn’t working — spoiler alert: it didn’t. I still had to read a million pages on top of the wasted time trying to figure out how to use the extension. Serves me right for believing in things.

Racing to the finish line

I must say that I was very apprehensive about listening to the Mario Kart soundtrack while writing an assignment. Still, I’d seen tons of TikToks claiming that it helps give you a sense of urgency (as if the looming deadlines aren’t enough), so I figured that I needed to be open-minded and give it a try. I also don’t generally listen to music while writing, unless it’s a dark academia classical Spotify playlist to calm myself down when I have tight deadlines. They also help me convince myself I’m much smarter than I actually am.

I was pretty sure that the Mario Kart wouldn’t really have the same effect, but, after listening for a little while, it’s safe to say that working with these tunes was much easier than trying to stay on Rainbow Road. At first, the fast-paced tunes were stressing me out, but after a few minutes, the words were flowing from my hands almost faster than my brain could keep up. My assignment was done within the hour — I highly recommend it.

Tomato timers

Though not an exclusive TikTok hack, I definitely saw some videos preaching the Pomodoro method, which consists of allotting yourself specific amounts of study and break time to increase productivity. The most common time frame is 25 minutes of work to every five-minute break, a pattern that you repeat until you’ve finished your tasks.

I did two cycles of the Pomorodo method and found that it didn’t really work for my way of studying. Setting the timer definitely helped me actually start writing, which is often the most challenging part for me, and I appreciated knowing that I would get a break after 25 minutes. Once the 25 minutes was up, however, I was in a flow state and didn’t want to stop at that moment. For the sake of the article, I continued with the method (you’re welcome), and then took the five-minute break, which definitely didn’t feel long enough. But, I had the same challenges after the second cycle as well.

That’s not to say that the Pomodoro method, or any other study hack mentioned in this article or on TikTok won’t work for you (though if you do figure out the reading summarizer extension PLEASE message me). Everyone has different ways of learning and aspects of doing school work that are more challenging for them — that’s why it’s so important to personalize your habits to what works for you.

Overall, TikTok seems like a great place to look if you’re trying to figure out the best way to get through your schoolwork. Just be weary of “hacks” that are simply too good to be true. And plagiarism. All my homies hate plagiarism. Happy(?) studying!

 

Visuals by James Fay

Categories
Student Life

Student’s weigh in on Concordia’s vaccine mandate

As Concordia relaxes health measures, students have mixed feelings about it. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian

We can thank the vaccine passport for Quebec’s high vaccination rates, but now all incentive to get vaccinated is gone. As of March 12, the Quebec vaccine passport is no more in bars, restaurants, movie theatres and more. This means people who chose not to get vaccinated, once incentivized to get the shot by limitations placed by the Quebec government – limitations as recent as January – have no more reason to get their covid immunization.

To be transparent, here’s how I feel about the whole thing.

Even as a pro-vaxxer who feels safer with the shot and boosters, no public incentive will make me drag my feet. So imagine someone who just doesn’t want to be vaccinated – despite the public and personal safety it can bring us, many will never get the shot(s) for a variety of reasons. Some of these reasons should be respected, but the general population should make up the difference, in a way.

This is my opinion — one of many different ones felt on the Concordia campus, as the university dismantled their vaccine mandate. While it was only in place for certain gatherings, sports clubs, the gym and Reggies, our campus bar, students had a lot of thoughts to share.

We went around Concordia’s downtown campus on Friday to ask students how they felt vis-a-vis the return to normality.

Guillaume Sercia, studying Human Environment 

I think its a good thing [the vaccine mandate is going away]. At some point we have to come back to reality, to normality. […] It wasn’t a big issue for me, but I was frustrated for the people who couldn’t take part in regular activities. I would feel safe even without a vaccine, so it doesn’t bother me.”

 

 

 

 

 

Carles Ngoupeyu, studying accounting 

I don’t agree with the vaccine mandate. They didn’t think about the non-vaccintaed. […] You just feel alone, separated from others. Those who are vaccinated will say the opposite because they have access to everything. But when you are not vaccinated, it’s just different. And to feel like you can’t enter a store because you didn’t get a vaccine; feeling like you’re limited in your actions because of a vaccine, it’s just really terrible.”

 

 

 

 

Nadeem Alhajzein, studying studio arts and art history

I don’t totally agree with the idea of a vaccine mandate being removed. I feel like [the] Quebec government is kind of like, going up and down different rules.”

“But I do understand how it’s supposed to be trying and getting people to go back to normal, I guess. But I still feel like it’s something that should still be at places because it does help us.”

 

 

 

 

Yannis Affoum, studying for a certificate of Science Foundations

I’m actually kind of happy. It’s very annoying to always have to worry about these things, and always having to show your phone, show your QR code, and all these things… It’s kind of annoying. And for people who dont have a QR code, it’s kind of discriminatory.”

 

 

 

 

 

Ahmed Riad, studying electrical engineering

It’s great, people [now] have the choice of taking the vaccine or not, I personally took the vaccine. […] People should have the freedom to take the vaccine or not.”

 

 

 

 

 

Marwa Khalid, studying software engineering

I wouldn’t really feel comfortable. Obviously, it’s a really crowded place, there’s a lot of people, and if they are not wearing their mask, you don’t know if they have [COVID], or dont have it, or even if they are facing symptoms. The removal of masks doesnt mean they don’t have COVID. [But] I don’t think it was the university’s place [to implement a vaccine mandate], I think it’s the government that makes that decision, then the university should follow.”

Photos by Catherine Reynolds

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Opinions Student Life

In-person learning? Not for everybody

Concordia University's Sir George Williams Campus. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian

My success with online learning (and problems with the traditional classroom).

We’ve known for a long time that everybody learns differently, so why aren’t we giving students options?

I’m not ashamed to admit it, I struggled through my undergrad. Lots of discontinued classes and less-than-stellar grades. Until recently, that is.

When classes were moved to Zoom, my grades consisted of almost straight As. My performance during this time convinced me that I was capable enough to give grad school a shot — a longtime dream of mine.

My GPA was scarcely above the cut off for a Masters in Public Policy and Public Administration, and strong letters of recommendation from teachers as well as solid volunteer experience were just enough to allow me to get through by the skin of my teeth.

My first semester of online grad school went swimmingly. I was able to boost my GPA (again) and even had time to get involved in student government as the VP Internal of the Political Science Graduate Student Association.

Then came the announcement: we would return to in-person studies in February. Like many students, I had my reservations. Mine, however, were different. Some were anxious to return to campus for health reasons, as was I. While I had many elderly relatives and was in several risk groups for COVID-19, there was another dimension to this. I knew there was a stark difference in my performance during the period of online learning and before, when most student life took place in person.

Reviewing my own transcripts, I could also see that an earlier, pre-pandemic experiment with online learning on eConcordia had yielded similar results: more straight As. Sadly, there are no eConcordia courses available for my current program.I’m sorry to say that the return to in-person class has not been good for me. Without going into too much detail, it seems that many of my old problems returned. Distractions, travel time, issues with the facilities, are all features of campus life.

I took the features of online learning for granted, but I can’t help but wonder: why can’t we have options and flexibility? I can understand many people were looking forward to the return of in-person classes, but by the same token, many of my colleagues had a positive experience of working from home and may not want to go back.

So far it looks as though the government is giving office workers the opportunity to continue doing this, but not us. Moreover, why are they so adamant about having us on campus? Like many policy decisions during the pandemic, it appears to be very top-down and arbitrary, imposing a “one size fits all” approach to complex and nuanced problems.

One can’t help but feel as though the decision also reflects an anachronistic vision of students. In the past, it might well have been the case that many students (who were young, affluent, single men) wouldn’t have to work on the side to finance their academic path, never mind looking after dependents. Most of us juggle the many different facets of our lives.

Online learning and working from home were brought about by necessity, and in turn, this had led me to question the necessity of in-person learning. It may boost student engagement in some cases, but there are always exceptions to every rule and for everyone to realize their full potential, there should be options available, especially for those who have health concerns as well as professional and family commitments.

The internet is a part of our everyday lives and we should be embracing its demonstrated potential to make things easier instead of simply following traditional course delivery for no other reason besides that it’s what we have always done in the past.

 

Photo by Cathrine Reynolds

Categories
Student Life

Girls Who Like Money: Why we’re workaholics

LILY COWPER @lilycowper

Answer: we don’t know

 

Girls Who Like Money is a column written to help you feel less bad about your money habits, plus some advice on how to finance your expensive taste.

What is it about being 22 that makes you realize who you are? Is there some sort of old and wise threshold that you need to pass in order to understand all those parts of you that don’t make sense?

I’ve been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and for a long time that was all it was. I have always been artistic, creative, independent, down-to-earth, and a go-getter. However, I am also forgetful, never on time, stubborn, jaded, and chronically depressed and angry.

Everyone’s good traits have a dark side (call it yin and yang). For me, perfectionism manifested into hard-core-BDSM-level workaholism. Some might call it ambition. I call it perfectionism, but often throughout my life it appeared as the exact opposite: carelessness.

I suppose it’s because it’s impossible to be perfect all the time, but my nit-picking has always been selective, and school was last on the list. I took the easy way out with everything that was required, but anything not required had to be executed to perfection.

The other day I started thinking about high school. I don’t remember much from my time spent in class, apart from harsh fluorescent lighting and the constant feeling of wanting to get in and out of it as soon as possible. I was always rushing to school, as two tardies got you detention, and rushing out of school, back to my other life.

My other life, my real life, was work. I’ve always loved learning, but having long-ago realized the arbitrariness of grades, my brain must have logically pushed them to the bottom of my priorities. Schoolwork was just below chores, which were below exercise, which was below friends, which were below family, which, admittedly, was below work.

Work is over everything, and when you’re not working, you’re thinking about more ideas you can execute and whether something needs revision. Somehow, you always create more work.

You hope to surround yourself with other workaholics, so that your priorities don’t get in the way of, but rather support the friendship. So that’s how I’ve always met my best friends — through work. And that’s just one way a workaholic unconsciously creates a life that is centred around their job(s).

But how does a workaholic manage the other aspects of life? A workaholic might respond, “What other aspects?” Family, friends, relationships, and health all take a backseat when there’s work to be done. And there’s always work to be done… even when you’ve finished it all..

A workaholic often stays up late to top things off. Nine-to-five work hours are suggested for other people, but not for us. How does one kick off a budding career with all that time spent sitting around? Answer: one doesn’t. Instead, we use the omnipresent threat of said “budding career” as a reason to push harder.

We often wake up in the middle of the night to write things down, set our alarms for way too early, and end up sleeping in. Our Google Calendar app is where we feel most at home.

Even now as I write this, my partner and I are spending quality time, as we always do, cuddled up next to each other. As usual, he’s sleeping and I’m deep into this semi-necessary extra-curricular task.

We’re both workaholics, and as I explained once to my therapist, “It works out well because we have the same schedule.” She responded, “Yeah, but when do you spend time together?” I painted, for her, a picture of this exact moment: The Office plays in the background, he’s sleeping next to me, and I’m getting through the work I’m still catching up on from the day. That counts, right?

If you’re reading this and you think this may be you, I’m sorry but I haven’t figured out why we’re like this. If this article seems chaotic, that’s because it’s a reflection of me. However, there has been one discovery to come out of this.

As much as I love money, I realize now that money has nothing to do with my workaholism. You know how I know? Because I have three jobs. Two jobs are fun and make me almost nothing. The other job sucks and makes enough to pay rent and then some. Guess which job I do most?

I always thought I loved money so much that all I wanted to do was make more of it. But the truth is, I just want to do stuff. I always want to stay busy, because when I’m not busy, I just have ideas that never come to fruition.

It’s like getting in a metro car that never closes its doors. It just stays still for 20 minutes and you wonder if you should get off. And then another 20 minutes go by and you get off and you have to figure out another way to get to the place you’re going. It’s the same feeling.

People talk about balance, and I wonder how I can do that too. Let me know if you figure it out.

 

With love,

Lily

Categories
Opinions

The death of an important Canadian white of passage?

There’s snow way Canadian childhood will be the same without snow days.

I’m in elementary school. All day I’ve heard whispers from the adults that tomorrow there might be a huge snowstorm.

My exhilaration is palpable. In class, I dream about traipsing through deep snow and making maple syrup taffy in the backyard, leaving the stresses of the third grade behind for a day.

As I got older, I even heard rumours of a ‘SnowDayPredictor’ that some would refresh frantically and announce the odds to their peers.

Before I go to sleep, I stare out my window, willing the snow to fall in copious amounts, silencing the city with a thick white blanket.

The next morning, I’m too wired with excitement. I wake up early and glance outside. Sure enough, the snow has piled up to at least knee height, and my mom urges me to go back to sleep — school is cancelled. It’s a snow day!

As a born-and-raised Montrealer, snow days are an integral part of my fondest winter memories. There’s nothing like waking up and realizing you have the day off to spend outside, frolicking in fluffy powder and cozying up with a warm hot chocolate when you come back inside (or spending the entire day inside, staying warm!).

But with new possibilities for online school thanks to the pandemic, are my beloved snow days a thing of the past? On the Jan. 16 snow day, 10 Montreal schools opted for Zoom learning instead of giving students the day off to enjoy the winter wonderland.

It’s ridiculous. Blasphemy. Absurdity.

I firmly believe that snow days should remain in practice in spite of the option to hold school online when excessive snow makes travelling to school difficult.

In addition to the pure fun and the creation of core memories that snow days bring, taking a spontaneous day off school does wonders for one’s mental health.

In our often-too-busy lives, snow days offer us the time to relax, recharge, and enjoy our surroundings, without having to feel guilty for missing out on being productive.

“Where I come from, some days it’s like 40 degrees,” said Concordia student Zina Chouaibi. She grew up in Algeria and moved to Montreal at age 11. “We [didn’t] take days off. Even if the sun [was] burning,” she explained, noting that her first snow day here was quite a shock, but very exciting.

Still, Chouaibi sees the benefit in snow days, particularly for younger people. “My sister does a lot of Zooms now. And it’s sad because she [spends] most of the time now inside rather than outside.”

A 2020 study from the International Journal of Behavioral Nutrition and Physical Activity found that only 4.8 per cent of children and 0.6 per cent of the youth surveyed were meeting movement behaviour guidelines during COVID-19 restrictions. More than ever, children can use time away from their screens to enjoy the outdoors, making the need for snow days even more apparent.

Taking these much-needed breaks isn’t only necessary for kids and teenagers — these so-called “mental health days” reduce burnout in adults as well.

That being said, even if snow days become obsolete, I’ve been known to create my own. When there’s a decent snowfall in the Laurentians or the Eastern Townships, I suddenly fall ill with mogulitis, a near deadly self-coined disease that can only be cured by playing hooky and driving to the mountains for a day of skiing.

But mogulitis isn’t really about skiing, it’s more about reconnecting with nature, taking time for myself, and appreciating the beauty of Canadian winter (before it turns to brown slush). So even if snow days become a thing of the past, I urge you to fall back on mogulitis — but hopefully it won’t come to that.

 

Archive Picture from Talia Kliot

Categories
Student Life

It’s okay to be uncomfortable – confronting our complicity through The Lily Pod

Linneah Shanti sits down with friend & writer Antea Zivanovic to discuss The Lily Pod. CATHERINE REYNOLDS/The Concordian

A Concordia podcast that teaches us how vulnerability can connect us to ourselves and each other

Often when I think of Linneah Shanti, I think of all the things that have to do with feeling good. A feeling of good-ness that isn’t attached to something I can hold, no matter how much I adore croissants and cappuccinos. A feeling of good-ness that unwinds from budding empathy, love in bloom. A feeling of good-ness that, like her podcast, would be the worst thing to keep secret.

Originally from Ontario, Shanti is currently based in Montreal and in her third year of Interdisciplinary Studies in Sexuality at Concordia University. The two of us were introduced during

our first semester at university. A year and a half later, in January 2021, she started The Lily Pod.

The idea had been on her mind for a while before then, morphing itself from a yearning to create something special. What she ended up creating is now a space for learning and exploring, focused on the disentanglement of ideas and quenching curiosities.

When I asked Shanti to try and contain The Lily Pod to a set of defining words, she playfully replied with “Queering the existence of life.”

TC: So where did the name come from?

LS: The initial intention for the name came from my desire for this podcast to be a safe, peaceful, and loving place. I decided to take garden imagery — which for me evokes a sense of calm, safety, serenity, and welcoming. Flowers, water, and greenery have always played a big role in my feelings of belonging and safety, which I wanted the podcast to reflect.

‘Lily’ is [also] a name my partner calls me because it’s an acronym for “Linneah I Love You,” which felt really special given the loving space I wanted to create.

TC: Given that the podcast is something that is both yours and something you share — where does being vulnerable fit into this context?

LS: It fits in with how I and listeners confront our own questions, instincts, and learned ways of thinking about the world. In the process of thinking about and creating the episodes, I’m constantly confronted with how much I want to share and what I really think about something… putting my thoughts into the void can be both really scary but also really liberating.

I get a few messages a week from listeners interpreting what I’ve said in a really personal way, and I find this openness to vulnerability really special. It’s this cool cycle where this vulnerable experience for me is made public, then made personal to someone, and then reflected back to me… we’re all going through it together.

TC: You’ve explored so many topics throughout the last year, from desirability, to the male gaze, to polyamory, to the complexities of gender… Is there one topic that has stuck with you more than the rest? 

LS: I immediately gravitate towards what it means to desire and to be desired in the unique context of our own individual identities… how this intermingles with gender, sexuality, the body, perceptions. What it means to understand our positionality and using this understanding to connect us even if our experiences aren’t identical.

TC: If there’s one episode you recommend to first time listeners, which one would that be? 

LS: The polyamory one! It was the first collaborative episode and was recorded with two beautiful friends. It felt like I was doing something more than just sitting down and recording… and it reflected a lot of different themes from a queer perspective, really encapsulating what The Lily Pod is.

How to listen to The Lily Pod

My favourite place to listen to Shanti’s podcast is in my bedroom, in the midst of my process of getting ready to go somewhere. I often catch myself audibly agreeing with her, or suddenly hyper-focused on a new thought she’s helped me connect with.

Regardless of where I am when I hit play, I’ve found that by the end of each episode I’m always left feeling some type of new.

The Lily Pod is available on Spotify, Buzzsprout, and Apple Podcasts. You can find more of Linneah Shanti @linneahrae and @thelily.pod on Instagram. 

Photos by Catherine Reynolds

Categories
Opinions

What makes Molotov cocktails on a weekday night worthy for a journalist?

In the pursuit of finding the answer to journalistic woes, I was reminded why I am here

Patricia Mukhim, an investigative journalist and the editor of The Shillong Times was greeted with a gasoline-filled Molotov cocktail at her house on April 17, 2018 in Meghalaya, India. She had been reporting on illegal limestone mining in the northeastern hilly state with a fragile ecosystem.

Raman Kashyap, a freelance investigative journalist at Sadhana TV, Uttar Pradesh, India, was at first declared missing and later found dead on Oct. 4, 2021. He was covering the ongoing farmer protests where a vehicle of an official allegedly ran over protesters.

I could have brushed these examples off as anomalies in the vast profession that is journalism. But the stats didn’t support me either. In Reporters Without Borders’s 2021 World Press Freedom Index that ranks nations according to their press freedom and safe reporting laws, India ranked 142 among 180 countries. This calls out a crisis in Indian journalism, the very crisis I decided to be a part of.

These events and stats made it really hard for me to convince my dad to fund my journalistic interests. Like any Indian father, he too was religiously following the loud news debates, atrocious insensitive headlines, clickbait thumbnails and shameful coverage of what is now merely labelled news. He politely asked me to choose something else to pursue.

When I first shared my intentions to still pursue journalism, the immediate response was a shocking “Why?” followed by a big “No.” My loved ones were worried about my safety — and it was a valid fear. They knew I would be too ambitious to cover a mere puff piece instead of a scandal. Thankfully, I convinced them.

Once travel restrictions around the world were lifted, I flew thousands of kilometres from Hyderabad, India to Montreal to study journalism. I hoped that it would give me a global perspective on the respected profession.

Soon after arriving, I luckily came across an investigative article by Ricochet Media, which reported on police brutality in Montreal against student journalists during a protest. The Canadian Association of Journalists also published a press release condemning multiple attacks on journalists and reporters covering protests in Montreal and Quebec City. They requested police to take action against the attackers.

What I learned from instances like this is that the world views journalists and our profession as something to be restricted, disrespected, and controlled with an iron hand no matter the continent.

Why do these journalists keep going back to the field, back to their newsrooms, back to reporting and investigating just to be shoved around, arrested and even killed? Why am I still here writing for newspapers and looking for events to report on? It is because journalism is a powerful profession — one that I want to be a part of.

My presence as a media person suddenly made people around me self-aware of what they said and did. That was something to take pride in. It’s crazy to think that I, a student journalist who just started her classes, am already making people nervous. It was this power of journalism that still drives me and convinced my loved ones to support me.

Journalism is founded on the efforts made to seek the truth, and I believe that the profession derives its power from this truth.

Truth-seeking is also one of the founding pillars of freedom of the press. In the same way, the makers of the Indian Constitution included freedom of speech and expression as some of the fundamental rights for its citizens, with a few press or media exceptions.

But where do we draw the line in our reporting, when it doesn’t guarantee complete truth?

Some journalists get hit with death threats and “sedition” cases for digging deep or getting closer to a hidden truth. However, those who spread and propagate falsified truths remain unaffected.

The reason behind those who benefit from fabricating truth being unharmed is complex. When the truth is being weaponized, fabricated and projected from behind a shroud of imagined righteousness, those holding the weapon are not harmed, nor those who fixed the targets. I could be at the right place trying to debunk false news at the wrong time and become an easy target in this chaos. Now, I understand the collective concern and worry my friends and family had for me and my professional choices.

In the wake of all this, what is journalism fighting for? For the truth that is losing its sanctity? For righteousness that is constantly maligned? For an ultimate value that can never be achieved? No. Journalism fights for change.

Mukhim’s reporting moved the local government to make amendments to licensing limestone mining. This was a partial win as the illegal and environmentally harmful extraction of the locally abundant material hasn’t stopped. But neither will she.

Efforts of journalists like Kashyap, along with many local farmers, enabled change. They covered different angles of the farming laws, collected reasons for the dissent, debunked fake rumours for over a year, and finally led the government to annul the new farming laws.

Hope that change can be achieved, even in part, pushes journalists to keep going against the odds. It inspires young journalists like me to take up this profession so that in every article I write, I am able to push the wheel of change, one millimetre at a time.

It is great to witness journalism striving for noticeable changes and generating value for itself by overcoming the negative effects of the actions of some of its own, seeking truth, and hopefully being safe to practice. Until then, cheers to Molotov cocktails on weekday nights.

 

Photo by Christine Beaudoin

Satire: Creative Valentine’s Day gifts guaranteed to impress — even a day late

Who wants flowers anyways?

Your beloved Nivea lip balm is on its last legs. A daily walk to the pharmacy is in the cards for you this morning. You begrudgingly make the trek through the bitter cold to the nearest Pharmaprix (or maybe you’re a Jean Coutu person — this is a choose-your-own adventure, I guess).

As you walk through the aisles, you’re met with semi-bare shelves full of pink everything — from chocolates, to teddies, to flowers. A shiver runs down your spine. Could you have forgotten? You brace yourself as you fish around the old masks in your jacket pocket to find your cell phone. To your dismay, it proudly displays the date as February 15. You’re in deep shit.

At this point, you’re panicking. How can you explain forgetting about THE holiday of love to your significant other? Will this be the end of your relationship? How can you come back from this? (In a blind frenzy, it slips your mind that they too may have forgotten).

Luckily, you won’t have to, since I’ve compiled a list of the four best next-day Valentine’s Day gifts that put chocolate and flowers to shame, and are guaranteed to leave your lover enchanted enough to forget about you forgetting.

Swag socks

I know what you’re thinking, but trust me on this one. While socks might seem like a simple stocking stuffer or a leftover Christmas present, you can repurpose them with the help of a sweet pun. By gifting your boo a pair of socks with a card reading “you knock my socks off,” you’ll not only make them a free elf but also warm their heart (and their feet).

Bonus points if they have cartoons of an animal that your special someone has mentioned finding cute once. It’s almost effortless, but foolproof.

Relationship self-help book

Is your person an avid reader? This is the perfect gift for them. Instead of finding the latest silly fiction, expand their horizons with something more personal and refined. A relationship self-help book is a genius way to satisfy their paper craving while setting yourself up for an even healthier connection. Regardless of whether or not your relationship is going smoothly, it’s always good to have tools in case it goes sour. Extra credit if it’s called “It’s Not You, It’s Me,” highlighting that you also have stuff to work on. It’s incredibly thoughtful — there’s absolutely no way your partner could get the wrong idea.

Skydiving tickets

This one is pretty self-explanatory. What says “I love you” like being strapped to a stranger and falling from the sky out of a plane? This is also a pricey gift, which certainly helps with the lateness of the delivery. Everyone knows that expensiveness has a direct correlation to how much you care.

A will to live

This is probably the hardest to acquire — you won’t find one lying on the shelves of the pharmacy. To find a will to live, you’ll have to search far and wide, or maybe even embark on a quest. However, if you do manage to get one, this is the gift to end all gifts. If you succeed, please let me know. We might be able to get a two-for-one deal.

With any of these items, you should have no trouble saving your Valentine’s Day.

You’re welcome.

And if for some reason, these ideas don’t work for you, you can always go for an apology or a heartfelt card, but that’s kind of basic.

Graphic by Madeline Schmidt

Categories
Student Life

Omicron or I’m-in-class?

Exploring the impact the return to campus is having

I heard the ping of my email, and saw it was from Concordia — instantly, my heart started racing.

I read the email and my heart sank. We were returning to campus as of Feb. 3, 2022.

This was two weeks ago. Concordia has since re-opened its door to students, with most campus activities returning in person.

My initial reaction to the news of in-person classes was anger and disbelief: was Concordia seriously doing this? We are still at the height of a pandemic, and their response was to make us all go back? I instantly started to spiral — at the time, this was the worst news I could have gotten.

Truth is, going back to campus right now is scary. For one, I am the mom of a 15-month-old. He cannot get vaccinated, he cannot wear a mask. He is vulnerable to COVID. Now, twice a week, I have to go to campus and potentially expose myself to COVID even more so than before.

On top of the added risk, Concordia doesn’t seem to be implementing too many measures to ensure that the return to school is safe. I would feel so much better if there were more measures put in place. This semester is now bound to be a mess. Don’t get me wrong — I want things to feel normal again. I just don’t know if that’s going to happen.

I am frustrated and scared about being in person. I feel rushed in my return to campus. What was the real reason? Is it really just because of government directives? The reasons are varied.

Many people I know are over COVID, and think that we just need to move on. They say that at this point, we have to accept COVID is not going away, so we need to “just live life” and let things go back to normal.

I tend to fall more into the other category, where I think most of us just need a little more time. We need to remember that we have not officially entered the endemic phase here, and I think it would be better to value health and safety before other things.

With all the conflicting opinions, we will never really know the real reason Concordia decided to go back in person so quickly.

There are aspects of in person learning that I miss and am looking forward to. I miss jumping into conversations and not having to wait in the Zoom queue — it would definitely make my seminars a lot more enjoyable.

I’m even looking forward to something as simple as holding a physical book in the library again. Those things will be great, but not at the expense of me, my family, and my classmate’s health.

All that being said, I am at a place where I have accepted that this is our shared hell-hole that we call reality. I don’t have much of a choice, other than signing the petitions calling for a slower transition that have been circulating. I have to comply, and make sure that I do what I can to be safe with my return to campus.

I also realized that I don’t have to go through this alone. There are resources that I can access at Concordia that can help make this transition easier.

Concordia offers short-term psychotherapy, which can help with the transition with going back to in person learning. Of course, the experiences that each student will get may not be the same. So it’s important to note that there may be some challenges accessing these services. Regardless, it is still a resource that Concordia offers, so at least getting some information about it can be a starting point to having support during a difficult time.

While you are waiting for the professional services, there are things you can do on your own that could help. Something as simple as creating playlists with happy music might help put you in a better mood. Or cooking that dish you have been thinking about cooking for oh-so-long. Even going for a nice walk to get some fresh air, might make things a little less scary.

One of the most interesting things is that Concordia offers some self-help tools, including a wellness tracking tool, and various workbooks that students and staff can consult. Sometimes we just need some self-reflection, and that may help.

There are also text/phone support options that students can access. While most of these are external links, they are still being suggested through Concordia, like Wellness Together Canada, which has many resources and options for people to use and perhaps help them.

Sure, they’re not perfect, and people need to explore what works best for them, but this is at least a foundation that could help students.

While I am still incredibly nervous about the potential exposure, and wishing Concordia would do more, I have hope that with time and with access to resources, the semester will be the best it can be despite all the issues we are still facing.

 

Photo by Kaitlynn Rodney

My strange obsession: Aspic

The gelatin-based confection is a ticket to small-scale opulence

I have a modest proposal: consider aspic, the vibrant jellied dish that is my current obsession, for your next culinary project.

Hear me out!

The word “aspic” inevitably conjures up a sense of dinner party dread, or visions of mid-century advertisements, of technicolor jello stuffed with hot dogs and peas and marshmallows.

One might think of the numerous aspics showcased on the @70sdinnerparty Instagram page, such as the “24-Hour Vegetable Salad,” a rather classy walnut and apple-stuffed creation topped with what could conceivably be jellied mayonnaise, and an intriguing recipe for “Illuminated Gelatin.”

But what is aspic? It is in fact “meat jello,” made from gelatin and broth. Gelatin is a hydrocolloid, derived from animal bones and skin. When heated with broth, the collagen in gelatin mingles with the liquid, creating a gentle jelly when cooled. Various bite-sized ingredients are then suspended in the mixture. When set, aspic is served cold, jiggling slightly. None of this I refute.

Maybe a better question, then, would be: “Why aspic?”

I recently embarked on an aspic escapade myself. My roommate and I decided to cheat a little bit and use store-bought gelatin and broth instead of taking the full gourmand route of boiling veal knuckles for hours. We even acquired a bundt pan for the occasion!

Any kind of container works, however — like sourdough, aspic can easily be dressed up or down, and allows for all kinds of skill levels and modifications. For vegetarians, seaweed-derived agar can be used in place of gelatin. It truly is a dish for all seasons and occasions.

Building the inner structure of the aspic was certainly the most challenging part of the process. Primarily, if you’re attempting a more elegant look over an overstuffed one, you have to gradually build up the jelly as you add your morsels to hold them in place.

We quickly learned that aspic really is a craft. It necessitates a long process, skillfully placed ingredients, and careful colour choices in order to create a distinctive picture. Aspic demands an attention to the decorative — as MIT professor Eugenie Brinkema has noted in her book The Forms of the Affects, the jelly is both a culinary medium and an aesthetic showcase.

And yet there is always something to be gleaned beyond the dichotomy of “gross” or “tasty.” What value is there in eating something you do not find that appetizing? No, our aspic was not miraculously delicious, nor did we expect it to be. But it felt delicious to orchestrate the event of aspic, and to try and articulate what about it specifically prompted a sensation of disgust.

We all agreed that the contrast between the meaty taste and the cold temperature was the most unsettling element. I’ll go out on a limb and say that our aspic seemed to inspire a kind of affectionate disgust.

So, why aspic? Aspic is not simply a food — that’s almost beside the point. Aspic is delightfully absurd. Aspic is an experience. Aspic is an event. And I think we should all indulge more often in such low-stakes aesthetic experiences, in small-scale opulent events of our own design.

 

Graphic by James Fay

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