Volume 44, Issue 2

"Inshallah Pangea comes back" Since 1980

CONCORDIA’S INDEPENDENT PUBLICATION SINCE 1980

On the one-year anniversary of Mahsa Amini's death, thousands of protesters gathered at the McGill University Roddick Gates and rallied to the George-Étienne Cartier Monument.

Demonstrators stood in three lines in front of the large crowd holding nooses, standing in cages, wearing bloody shirts and gas masks—all depicting the lives of those who remain in Iran under the current regime. Chants in English, French and Farsi brought the large crowd together as they marched for the Iranian people.

On Sept. 16, 2022, Mahsa Amini, a 22-year-old Kurdish woman living in Iran, died in a Tehran hospital after a three-day coma. Amini was arrested by the morality police for wearing her hijab too loosely. According to witnesses, she was beaten with a baton which led to her death. Amini's murder sparked uproar amongst an already outraged population.

Among the crowd in Montreal was Bijan Jalali, a member of Collectif Femme, Vie, Liberté (Women, Life, Freedom) Montreal. “Woman,

Remembering Mahsa Amini: One year later

Pain and retribution fuel Montreal protesters in support of the Iranian community

Menna Nayel and Julia Cieri @mennaanayel @_juliacieri

Life, Freedom started in Iran. Today is the anniversary of that,” he said. “All over the world, we are doing demonstrations for the first anniversary of that movement.”

The chant “Woman, Life, Freedom” was inspired by Amini’s death as well as the oppressive experiences Iranian women go through on a regular basis. Some of Iran’s laws include mandatory veiling, prohibition from work and/or travel without a husband or father’s permission and inequality towards women in the legal system more broadly.

Her passing sparked widespread protests across Iran and the rest of the world. Across the country, repression against protesters has been deadly. Police forces were seen shooting unarmed people and kidnapping activists; dozens of them were killed or seen fleeing for their lives.

One year later, the Iranian population’s demands surrounding women’s rights have not been met. The movement’s main demand is the secularization of Iran’s authoritarian theocratic regime, which has ruled the country since 1979.

Authorities used a variety of brutal and inhumane tactics to cease any widespread opposition such as violently dispersing protesters, murders, arrests and even mass shutdowns of the internet. In response, on Sept. 16, 2023, almost every major city in the world rallied in support of the movement.

The death of Mahsa Amini sparked great anger in the citizens of all of Iran.

Even those not in attendance have made their voices heard. “I think everyone was waiting for that moment. It’s like a house with a gas leak, and you just need a spark,” said Sara, an Iranian who moved to Montreal two years ago, and wished to remain anonymous for safety reasons. “I think Mahsa was that spark.”

Sara explained that Iranians did not want to believe that their government could be this violent. According to her, many people would pretend the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed. They would just accept, be patient and tolerable. “I know that I cannot wear anything that I want. I know that I cannot use

a bicycle. We cannot travel without our father or husband's permission. If our husband dies, we cannot get custody of our child,”

Hesan, who wishes to remain anonymous, was born in the US and now lives in Montreal. His parents immigrated from Iran in the late 80s due to the search for a better quality of life. He agreed with Sara. “Since the revolution in 1979, women have been relegated to a second class citizen status. In the eyes of the law, they are considered to be of lesser value than men,” he said. The government’s treatment of citizens also affected the Iranian community in Montreal. “It was really hard in the first few months. Contacting our family while they were in the middle of everything, they [could have gotten] killed,” Sara added. “The internet was cut off and we didn’t have access to them. It was eating me alive that I wasn’t in Iran. I was [virtually] on the streets [of Iran] through my phone. I was checking the news every second. I encouraged others to be active,

but I wasn’t there, that’s the only thing that I was missing.”

Sina Salamannia, a demonstrator present at the protest and firstyear McGill student who came to Canada a year and a half ago. “I’m here to support the anniversary of the uprising. My life was affected directly and indirectly by it.” Salamannia explained he left Iran because of the government, but his family remains.

“I haven't seen them ever since I left. It was always a fear of , ‘Am I going to get out of this country?’ ‘Can I board the plane?’ It was a terrible moment,” Salamannia said about leaving Iran. “I'm worried about all of my family and all of my friends, but I have hope.”

The Montreal demonstration drew over 1,000 participants. Many other cities around the world organized rallies in Mahsa Amini's honour. Despite the continued fight, there was a pervasive feeling of optimism that change is on the way.

DEMONSTRATORS GATHER AT THE RODDICK GATES TO MARK THE ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE MURDER OF MAHSA AMINI AT THE HANDS OF IRANIAN MORALITY POLICE. PHOTO AUTUMN DAREY

"A Sick Colonial Game"

Families, advocates and allies call for Manitoba government to search Winnipeg landfills for Indigenous murder victims

In light of the National day of action for missing and murdered indigenous women, girls and gender diverse people, vigils occurred across Canada on Sept. 18 in support of the Search the Landfill movement. Approximately 80 people, including victims’ family members, supporters and allies gathered at Place du Canada in Montreal.

The event began with smudging and a performance by the Travelling Spirit drum group. Crowds gathered with the family and speakers as attendees held signs reading “Search the Landfill,” “Every Child Matters” and “Justice for Our Sisters.”

The movement to search the landfill began ten months ago in Manitoba. On Dec. 18 2022, five family members took matters into their own hands following the unresolved murders of their relatives.

In May 2022, Jeremy Skibicki killed Morgan Harris and Mer-

cedes Myran of Long Plain First Nation. Police believe their bodies were dumped in the Prairie Green landfill. One of Skibicki’s former victims, Rebecca Cantois, was found in the Brady Road landfill. Another one of his victims remains unidentified and has been given the name “Buffalo woman.”

Cambria Harris, the daughter of Morgan Harris, was in attendance at Monday’s vigil in Montreal. She pleaded to the crowd, emphasizing the disregard from Canadian authorities towards missing and murdered Indigenous victims. “Non-Indigenous people get searches,” she said in reference to a non-Indigenous Ontario man whose remains were found successfully following a landfill search.

According to Harris, she continues to see garbage dumped in the landfill where her mother’s remains are still missing. She also explained to the crowd that Winnipeg is the epicentre of the missing

and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and gender-diverse people (MMIWG2S+) crisis.

“We’re joining forces. We’re standing in solidarity with folks across Canada who are also calling for an end to the broader issue of all forms of violence against Indigenous women and girls,” said Iskweu Project member Laura Aguiar. “We would like to see an immediate search of the landfill.”

“It is outrageous that they are not letting anyone go in to search the landfill, and it is incredibly devastating for the families,” explained Na’kuset, executive director of the Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal. “When you have a large group that is all in solidarity, that’s what changes things. The goal is that tomorrow the premier watches the news and gets so embarrassed that everyone is calling her out […] We have to literally shame people into action.”

Abby Cole @abbycyyt

PROTESTERS LISTENING TO A SPEECH BY ACTIVIST ELLEN GABRIEL. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

CAMBRIA HARRIS, DAUGHTER OF VICTIM MORGAN HARRIS, SPEAKS TO THE CROWD. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

Speakers expressed their dissatisfaction with Manitoba Premier Heather Stefanson, who has spoken publicly about the province’s decision to not search the landfill. “Kick her out,” activist Ellen Gabriel exclaimed in reference to the upcoming provincial election next month.

Mi’kmaq drummer Megan Leinen, who was there with the drumming group the Powwow Rangers, attended the event in solidarity. “It’s like something that directly affects me, I have two cousins who are missing,” she said. “Everyone knows somebody. I hope that more people will be aware.”

For attendees and families of the victims, the continued insistence to not search the landfill by the Manitoba government dem-

onstrates the continuance of colonial genocide in Canada. While the government refuses to safely search the landfills, the families of Harris and Myran lack closure and continue to mourn.

This issue, however, extends beyond Manitoba and the call to search the landfill. The National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls contained extensive testimony from family members who, like Myran and Harris, had lost a loved one and experienced injustice.

The inquiry details a 23-yearold Cree woman who died in 1991 after being beaten by community members in Val D’Or, Que. No charges were laid and the case was closed. It also describes the story of a 17-year-old Innu girl who died in 2011 after not returning

home after a night out. Her cause of death is still unknown.

These are only a few stories among thousands of others across Canada—of Indigenous women, girls and Two-Spirited people being abused, abducted, and killed–without justice being served.

In 2019, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau accepted the inquiry, which “reveals that persistent and deliberate human and Indigenous rights violations and abuses are the root cause behind Canada’s staggering rates of violence against Indigenous women, girls and LGBTQIA2S+ people” and outlines 231 calls for justice, which detail 18 areas in need of reform including education, justice and health.

As injustice persists, the memories of Myran, Harris, and the

thousands of Missing and Murdered Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirit people weigh on the hearts of many.

While the Manitoba government and police have stalled the pursuit of justice, loved ones and advocates stay persistent and resilient.

Protesters in Montreal raised their voice against the injustice caused by the authorities in Manitoba and demanded that they follow the MMIWG2S+ National inquiry to condone the abuses committed by the Canadian state, which represents genocide against Indigenous women, girls, and LGBTQIA2S+ people.

FAMILY MEMBERS OF VICTIMS, CAMBRIA HARRIS (FAR LEFT) AND JORDEN MYRAN (SECOND TO THE RIGHT), STAND WITH FRIENDS AND SUPPORTERS. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

(LEFT) THREE MEMBERS OF THE POWWOW RANGERS AND A PROTESTER. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

RED DRESSES HAVE BECOME A SYMBOL OF THE VIOLENCE AGAINST INDIGENOUS WOMEN AND GIRLS. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

Workers denounce ConU administration’s new return to work policies

Seven Concordia unions band together to fight for accessible work

Iness Rifay and Maria Cholakova @inessdagoat and _maria_cholakova_

Union members aren’t the only ones participating in the action. Beata Tararuj, the Graduate Program coordinator of Electrical and Computer Engineering created a petition to raise awareness of Concordia's sudden changes to the working model.

According to Tararuj, the change to the hybrid model was a shock. “For the past two-three years, we kept getting emails [from management] on what an amazing job we were doing,” she said. Once she learned that Concordia staff had to return to a four-day-inperson model, she felt “extremely upset” because “when important decisions are made on our behalf, [the university] doesn’t care about listening to what the staff has to say,” she continued.

of them, earn three times below the average Montreal wage. They earn about $20,000 below the living with dignity wage, which is $32,252 a year,” Bond said. According to the Concordia website, doctoral students make $29.81 per hour as of 2022.

Inflation doesn't make life easier for workers. According to Côté, wages that reflect inflation prices are a must. “I work with 50 different unions and all sorts of fields, and that's the common denominator. Whether you work in an engine factory, the casino, or Concordia. People are facing inflation and so Concordia needs to act accordingly,” he said.

On Sept. 13 and 14, seven of Concordia’s workers’ unions gathered to demand fair pay and the preservation of the university's hybrid work model mandate.

From the seven unions present were the Concordia University Professional Employees Union (CUPEU), the Concordia University Union of Support Staff—Technical Sector (CUUSS-TS), and Concordia Research Education Workers (CREW) affiliated with Confédération des syndicats nationaux (CSN), which represents teaching assistant (TA) and research assistants (RA). While tabling, they informed attendees of their demands and raised awareness regarding their negotiations with the administration.

In 2021, Concordia implemented a hybrid work model, giving university employees a healthier and more productive workspace during the pandemic. However, in late June 2023, Concordia announced the implementation of a four-dayper-week in-person schedule set to begin on Aug. 14. The announcement was made via email.

CUUSS-TS vice-president Philippe Côté said the administration needs to do a better job at accepting workers’ demands. “[The administration needs to] recognize that the university just doesn't work without the 4,500 workers that we represent [...] there's just no Concordia if you remove all support staff, all professionals, all TAs and RAs,” he said.

Charlie Bond, a militant organizer with CREW-CSN, stated

that the fight for a more equitable workspace has only just begun. He believes Concordia is trying to isolate unions so that they negotiate on their own. “We believe in solidarity and collective bargaining. That's why we're all here today. To get people's spirits up, to spread the message and express solidarity with one another,” he said.

CUUSS-TS union member E, who wished to remain anonymous out of fear of termination of employment, hopes that by making their presence known to students who rely on their services, the administration will feel enough pressure to support the people allowing the institution to function at a very basic level.

“I realized this was something our union would have to do something about,” said Sigmund Lam, vice-president of negotiations for CUPEU. “So I started reaching out to the other unions to see what we could do.”

CUPEU had already planned to mobilize. The Faculty of Arts and Science (FAS) staff did not get a direct notice of the policy change through email, and were instead notified of the change through their managers. On July 17, FAS sent a letter to Pascale Sicotte, the dean of Arts and Science, outlining the various reasons why the longer in-person work week would be a hindrance for both students and staff at the university.

The letter describes at length the benefits of hybrid work to the faculty members, and claims “[Concordia University] is falling behind what other Quebec educational institutions are implementing.” It also calls out the contradictory perspectives of the university, as a month prior on May 12—the university announced that the hybrid work model was successful and would be maintained. That announcement has been removed from the university's website.

“There is a disconnect between upper administration and what the employees are asking,” said Lam. “Research supports that hybrid work is better for productivity, but if you read what the university is saying, they believe the exact opposite.”

An April 2021 report by Statistics Canada found that a vast majority of Canadian employees consider themselves at least as productive at home as they are in the office.

“When we originally came back, it was two days,” said Lam. “Then it became three. So, if this year it’s four, by next year, it’ll be five.” He adds the unions will put their foot down until the university has no choice but to keep the hybrid work model.

“If Concordia truly believes that they are a next-generation university, they should be at the forefront of the modern workfrom-home movement, and not at the end of the pack,” Lam said.

The change doesn’t only affect Concordia staff, emphasized Tararuj. “My job, it's extremely fast-paced. There's a lot of information going through my office. So when we had two days [at home], I was able to complete all of my tasks,” she said. As a result, she would have an open-door policy at her Concordia office, where students would be able to come and ask questions at any time.

“Now, since we're back to four days, one day to complete all my administrative tasks is not enough,” she said. “So when I come back on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday [and] Friday, I have to implement office hours because I need the time to complete the other part of my job. So, are students really benefiting from me being here four days a week? Well, I don't think so.” Unions are also fighting for an increase in wages.

“So many doctoral students in Concordia, the vast majority

On Sept. 7, President Graham Carr attended the Presidential Welcome Back get-together. The event was held in the EV Building and on the Loyola campus the day before. As students and Concordia staff poured into the room and chatted with each other, union members were busy posting stickers on stairs, boards and mugs, calling for a hybrid work model and gathering supporters.

While Carr was talking to attendees, Tararuj approached him with a letter addressed to him with staff demands. The president didn’t take the physical document. When Tararuj extended her hand out for a handshake, he took a picture with her instead.

When approached by The Link for comment, Carr stated “I don’t want to do that,” and referred reporters to a Concordia spokesperson.

CONCORDIA UNIONS DURING THE BARBECUE BASH TALK WITH STUDENT, STAFF AND FACULTY. PHOTO MARIA CHOLAKOVA

CUUSS-TS UNION MEMBERS STAND IN THE EV BUILDING. PHOTO MARIA CHOLAKOVA

Decolonizing the harvest: The Sankofa Farming Cooperative

Meet the Black-Indigenous students working towards food sovereignty through donations, workshops, story-telling and rituals

Nadia Liboneye @nadialiboneye

Located near Concordia University’s Hingston Hall residence on Loyola Campus, the Sankofa Farming Cooperative is a small student-run garden that provides organic fruits and vegetables to Black-Indigenous communities in need.

The co-op was officially formed in August 2022 through conversations between mutual friends at Concordia. Inspired by Leah Penniman’s book titled Farming While Black, the group felt drawn to the importance of allowing Black-Indigenous identities to connect with and learn from their ancestral agricultural roots without fear or shame.

When taking a look at Montreal’s farming communities, Sankofa noticed an absence of Black urban cooperative farms in the city. The coordinators of Sankofa explain that many Black and Indigenous individuals hesitate to take part in farming, due to its connection to slavery. Sankofa — which is derived from the Yórùbá saying, “San ko fa, yenkyiri”— translates to “it is not taboo to go back for what was left behind.” The Sankofa team makes it a point to continue to pass down the traditions of farming as was done historically in their communities.

Co-coordinator of Sankofa and Concordia alumni Menelik Blackburn-Philip describes their goal as “decolonizing or taking away the fear of doing agriculture as a Black or Black-Indigenous person,” reclaiming the practice that has been tainted by the injustices inflicted upon their communities.

In addition to this goal, the coop also aims to build a community and help members develop their ancestral spiritual knowledge through farming.

Within the over 600 Indigenous communities in Canada,

the respect and appreciation of land and nature remains interconnected in their spiritual practices. With this in mind, Blackburn-Philip also expressed Sankofa’s intention of “bringing more awareness and providing more knowledge about what Afro-Indigenous spiritual practices entail and how they are intrinsically involved with the land.”

The other neighbouring gardens feature rows of constructed wooden plant beds, but Sankofa follows a less traditional garden structure. They allow the various plants to take up the space they need, without restraint. Some plants in the Sankofa garden, called pollinators, were not planted by the group, but are maintained as part of the native plant species that were already growing on their land.

Coordinator of Sankofa Ourania Ntagizege-Nima told The Link that they “try to maintain a not-so structured style of farming with [...] little plots of plants, pollinators and medicinal herbs,” prioritizing the land’s natural ecosystem and avoiding heavy monoculture.

This nature-driven mindset also holds true within Sankofa’s group structure, setting them apart as a farming cooperative. Sankofa’s diverse group of coordinators make it a point to maintain a shared leadership, as opposed to a hierarchical structure with one or two members in power.

“We want to adopt the model of a co-op, which is more like a collective of people who make decisions together,” Ntagizege-Nima said.

Sona Sadio, a coordinator of Sankofa and a Concordia student, described the members’ roles as an intuitively shared responsibility. They continue saying, “everything we do has been happening in accordance with how members are

feeling and their capacity.” They added that “if there’s something that needs to be done, it will be brought up to the team and someone will step into that role without any pressure.”

Sadio, who joined the Sankofa team in March 2023, describes the farm as a safe space where Black and Indigenous students and Montrealers can gather and connect with the earth, no matter their social battery.

“We do have a focus on Black and Indigenous student life, so they know that there is a space available to them where they can freely talk about their experiences to people who can relate,” Sadio tells The Link. That said, Sankofa welcomes volunteers of all ethnicities who may want to collaborate with other students, volunteer and learn about Black and Indigenous agricultural practices in a hands-on way.

Meeting on a bi-weekly basis from spring to winter, the Sankofa co-op spends its time preparing the land for optimal plant growth, harvesting an array of vegetables and fruits.

With harvests ranging from peppers and jalapenos to strawberries, the group connects with Montrealers through social media and coordinates times where individuals and families in need can pick up fresh produce for free.

As the farm continues to grow, Sankofa hopes to coordinate with other student groups at the university to broaden their outreach to volunteers and low-income individuals in need of food donations.

Social media coordinator Caelin Thyssen highlighted Sankofa’s need for more volunteers to help with their weekly operations. “There’s only five of us, which sounds like enough for a small group but it really isn’t. We’re

looking for more members to kind of spread out the workload,” they said.

The Sankofa co-op also aims to address the persistent issue of food insecurity in Black-Indigenous communities. The Interdisciplinary research program PROOF, at the University of Toronto, reports disproportionate rates of food insecurity in Canada within Black and Indigenous communities. They find that “the highest percentage of individuals living in food-insecure households in 2022 was found among Black people at 39.2 per cent and Indigenous peoples at 33.4 per cent.”

Citing these staggering levels of food insecurity in racialized communities, Sankofa’s mission is to help heal their community from the various types of trauma that contribute to situations of food insecurity. Studies show that traumatic experiences related to low-income, high unemployment and other results of structural racism, are contributing factors to inequity and food insecurity amongst communities of colour.

Sankofa aims to provide what Sadio describes as a “special targeted care, to heal the impacts of oppression,” and play a role in helping Black-Indigenous populations reach food sovereignty through the form of food donations, workshops, story-telling and rituals.

The Sankofa co-op has set up a fundraiser to help fund the growth of the farm. Divided into a three-phase plan, the first phase details a goal of $10,000, which would go towards the establishment of an education fund for the group.

Sankofa says that they hope to provide an opportunity for their team and other volunteers to learn more about traditional

and ancestral farming practices. Throughout the process of developing knowledge on herbalism and agriculture, the coordinators also highlight their intention to transmit their knowledge back to Montreal’s Black-Indigenous communities, strengthening their autonomy and awareness.

The second phase of the fundraiser is intended to fund a down-payment for the purchase of additional farmland, to the sum of $30,000. “Buying land is more of a question of accessibility, and land in Montreal is very expensive,” said Blackburn-Philip. The group explains that achieving this second phase would allow them to grow, making farming and organic food more accessible to Afro-descendant Montrealers.

That said, given the scarcity of affordable and suitable farmland in the city, the team is also considering acquiring land in more rural areas outside of Montreal. The hope of this strategy would be to increase their chances of obtaining a large-scale plot of farmland.

The third and final phase of the fundraiser is for an amount of $60,000, which would be geared toward the renovation, adaptation and maintenance of the purchased land to meet their future farming needs.

As the Sankofa team prepares for the winter season, they hope to reach these goals and continue to educate, gather and heal members of Montreal’s Black-Indigenous communities within Concordia and beyond.

SANKOFA'S CO-COORDINATORS OURANIA NTAGIZEGE-NIMA (LEFT), MENELIK BLACKBURN-PHILIP (TOP-MIDDLE), SONA SADIO (RIGHT) AND SOCIAL MEDIA COORDINATOR CAELIN THYSSEN (BOTTOM-MIDDLE), SMILE FOR A PICTURE IN THE MIDDLE OF THEIR GARDEN. PHOTO NADIA LIBONEYE

Partying in good conscience

Discover Cloud 9, the eco-friendly music festival

Briahna McTigue

Energetic beats ring across the field at No.9 Gardens in Lyndhurst, Ont. This 40-acre slice of paradise is an organic farm, sustainability center, and home to the second edition of Cloud 9— an annual, eco-electronic music festival. This year’s edition took place on Sept. 9.

At its core, this sustainable festival is a carbon-neutral, notfor-profit event seeking to raise money for Ontario’s No. 9 project. The inspiration behind their signature number hails from the nine pillars of sustainability they try to address: transportation, green space, water management, waste management, green building design, civic engagement, public art and design, agriculture and food security and alternative energy.

“The mission of No. 9 is to provide the next generation with a toolkit to lead sustainable initiatives. Specifically to use the power of art and design as a way of cultivating new conversations and creating change around sustainability,” says one Cloud 9 co-founder, Hanna Davies. The festival builds upon this goal by uniting people from Kingston, Montreal and Toronto with a passion for climate action and electronic music.

Surrounded by an unobstructed skyline, lush trees and Leeds, Ont. farmland, it’s easy to get swept away by the site’s natural beauty. Art workshops with water colour painting, collaborative mosaic making and sustainable vendors are also onsite.

“This is my favourite day of the year,” Abigail O’Connor says, standing behind the Kingston Youth Climate Action booth. Like much of the festival, O’Connor’s stand pays homage to the power of merging art and sustainability, and is kept in good company with other climate organizers nearby. Behind them, Korea Town Acid’s moody, lush set hypnotizes the crowd from the main stage.

“We’re trying to introduce Kingston to more underground house, electronic and techno music, because they don’t have a super active scene,” Davies says. “But at the same time, we want to make it so that people in Montreal and Toronto, who are already fully in the scene, and appreciate that kind of music, can come out and experience it.” For this reason, the Cloud 9 team hosted campers this year, letting out-of-towners sleep at the farm for either one or two nights.

For Montrealers, this meant being able to see the city’s own Sterling Grove and Pascale Project perform. These overnight stays also led to larger crowds and connections, with about 500 people exploring the grounds. “The most meaningful part was the people this year,” Davies says. “Last year, we didn’t have it as a camping festival, it was only a one day event. So it was hard for people to settle into what the experience was supposed to be. But this year it just felt like the relationships between people were so much deeper.” While festivals are powerful conduits for connection, they have also earned a reputation for their impact on the environment. Throughout the years, festivals have received criticism for the amount of waste and carbon

emissions they produce. This has led some Montreal festivals to develop their own sustainability initiatives, like Osheaga’s food kiosk plastic ban, and the Jazz Festival’s installment of waste sorting islands. While Cloud 9 does not amass the same crowd or resources as Osheaga, it is inspiring to see how a festival rooted in sustainable action can grow into something bigger. These measures weren’t created in response to public pressure, but rather, as a core component without which the festival would not exist. Although the festival organizers are thrilled to see Cloud 9 expand, they plan to cap it at about 2,000 people, “to be conscious of the capacity of the land,” Davies says.

As for the tangible sustainability initiatives taken on by Cloud 9, one of the most impressive feats, would be their commitment to carbon neutrality. This year, the festival teamed up with one of its sponsors, Canada’s Forest Trust, to offset all of its carbon emissions. “We actually offset way more than necessary because we wanted to be safe,” Davies says. “We didn't know how many tickets we’d sell, so we covered the emissions for 800 people.”

Equally successful was Cloud 9’s mission to unite festival-goers through creativity and climate action. By bringing a sense of levity and whimsy to a heavy-hearted and sometimes overwhelming topic, the festival opened dialogue to celebrate wins within the community.

“We try to make Cloud 9 not necessarily just about us, as the organizers, or just about the charity No. 9, but really about our generation all working together,” Davies says. “So that’s why we

want to move into more collaborative events. Because we’re not trying to be our own thing—because that’s also not sustainable. We’re trying to use our festival as a platform to celebrate what other people are already doing.”

This mission did not get lost in translation among those at the festival either.

“I think by focusing on art and music as a pathway for activism, it draws people in and makes climate activism and sustainability work feel more accessible,” O’Connor says. “A lot of people, myself included, are extremely overwhelmed by the doom and gloom of the climate crisis especially after the summer we’ve had with extreme weather events. It's a good reminder that every effort and intention counts, and is valuable in shaping the world we want to create for ourselves.”

Looking forward, leading to next year’s festival, the Cloud 9 team are looking to collaborate on smaller pop-up events in neighbouring cities. They also plan to publish a report by the end of the year detailing all of the event’s sustainability initiatives and outcomes. This could help influence some sustainable changes in Montreal’s rich music scene as well, and hopefully lead to more eco-conscious festivals going forward. Ultimately, Cloud 9 shows that planning for a sustainable future is not just about sacrifice and reduction.

“You can live sustainably and it can feel just as fulfilling, if not more,” Davies says. “It doesn’t have to feel like a life with less, but actually like a life with more.”

ECO FRIENDLY VENDORS WERE LINED UP AT THE NO.9 GARDENS. PHOTO BRIHANA MCTIGUE

FESTIVAL GOERS ENJOYING THE NIGHT’S FESTIVITIES. PHOTO BRIHANA MCTIGUE

A Queer Maghrebi work of memory

The Dhakira Collective presents the North African Queer Film Festival

Menel Rehab @phoenicieuse

As the lights dimmed in Casa d'Italia—a quaint, intimate venue by Jean-Talon metro station—a swarm of enthusiastic film-goers seized their seats.

Drawn by the enchanting film program exploring the kinship of North African and South Asian Queer Gazes, spectators were anticipating what was to come.

From Sept. 7 to Sept. 23, Cinéma Public is presenting the second edition of the North African Queer Film Festival (NAQFF), hosted by the Dhakira Collective.

The Dhakira Collective is a platform dedicated to preserving and exploring non-Western cinema, with a particular focus on films and cultural artifacts from the Maghreb and South West Asian (SWANA) region.

This year, they held their second edition of the NAQFF, encapsulating a film program with queer aftertastes and hints. Additionally, a discursive panel took place, featuring themselves, queer SWANA artists and the audience.

The two founders, Bouchra Assou and Gaïa Guenoun—both of Moroccan origin—have expressed that their work within the collective extends to art and music. Dhakira is driven by a mission to uncover and promote cultural gems that might be overlooked or marginalized, such as North African cinematic heritage.

Dhakira’s journey began with a desire to create a digital archive of cinema, art and music. Assou and Gennoun recognized a lack of visibility for North African and Arab cultural works and aimed to change that. They began sharing online content and founded the NAQFF to showcase politically or artistically significant films facing wider audience challenges.

On Sept. 7, the first night of the film festival featured Brita Landoff's 1993 documentary "A Little for My Heart, A Little for My God," offering insight into Algerian female musicians, the Medahates, who perform exclusively for women. Dhakira hosted a discussion on queerness in North African performances with Algerian dancer Esraa Warda and Tunisian dancer Achraf El Abed.

The second screening night was even more crowded, with people sitting on the floor for an intimate experience of utopian visions of queerness. Queer Utopias, the name given to that night’s screenings, showcased films blending sci-fi, fantasy, poetry, queer icons and minority portrayals, providing critical societal reflection.

“We both wear many hats since there are just two of us,” explained Assou. “I focus on festival programming, grant writing, partnerships, communications and social media. Gaïa [Guenoun], on the other hand, coordinates, handles the festival's visual identity, works closely with the graphic designer, manages technical aspects and even curates panels.”

Assou explained that the Dhakira Collective's inception was quite spontaneous. She simply shared her idea with Guenoun, expressing her desire to create a digital archive for cinema. Her motivation stemmed from a longstanding passion for film and her realization that even she had struggled to discover the rich cinematic heritage of Morocco and similar artistic expressions.

Both founders of the Dhakira Collective come from different cultural backgrounds. Guenoun, with early exposure to film edu-

cation in Casablanca, developed a passion for cinema, aiming to challenge the dominance of Western-oriented film distribution in the Maghreb. She emphasizes the importance of preserving marginalized films integral to the region's cultural history.

Assou, initially a classic cinephile, later explored Arab films and realized the challenges they faced, including censorship and limited preservation efforts. Dhakira revives culturally significant films, even though many are archived in Europe, making access limited. Their mission is driven by their commitment to memory and representation.

“You never hear about cinema from North Africa even though there’s

a great heritage and a great tradition of filmmaking,” added Assou.

The collective operates with a commitment to accessibility, making all their events and screenings free to ensure that people—particularly from marginalized communities—have access to these cultural offerings. Their impact extends to providing representation and a safe space for queer North African and Arab audiences who may not find themselves fully included in other spaces.

Assou further explained that in the future, she plans to open submissions for unique insights. Accessing hidden gems, such as Mauritanian films addressing queer themes, has been challenging due to limited online availability. Open submissions are seen as a way to bridge these gaps and connect with enriching creators and works. Similarly, she mentioned previous difficulties in finding Sudanese films in a past edition.

“Maybe the biggest impact that our film festival has here in Montreal is that a lot of the queer spaces are very white, and not necessarily accessible to queer North African or Arab demographics. So, it’s nice to have a space that is just for us, where we’re not necessarily fetishized or tokenized,” said Assou.

Guenoun highlighted that the films they feature address themes of sexuality, with Vénus Rétrograde being particularly provocative yet respectful of people's

realities. She rejects the notion that being queer and respecting tradition or cultural heritage are mutually exclusive, emphasizing that this misconception extends beyond the Muslim or North African communities.

"People are now seeing themselves represented in ways they never have before. I've personally never seen myself on screen like this. We programmed many of these films without even watching them first. With each film, I see myself, my siblings and friends from back home," Guenoun said.

The Dhakira Collective is a testament to the power of grassroots efforts to preserve cultural heritage, promote inclusivity and create meaningful change in the world of art and cinema. They plan to expand and seek more funding for future festivals, including potential locations in Morocco and elsewhere. They aim to establish recurring events, focusing on North African and queer cinema, and create their streaming platform to promote underrepresented voices in film.

“Dhakira means memory,” Assou said. “I think that a lot of what we do is a work of memory [...] a lot of preservation and archiving, and making sure that things are not forgotten.”

THE ENTRANCE OF THE CASA D’ITALIA CULTURAL CENTER. PHOTO GABRIELLE LAPERRIERE-LEBLANC

FOUNDERS OF THE NAQFF, BOUCHRA ASSOU AND GAÏA GUENOUN, PRESENTING THE DAY’S FILM SCHEDULE. PHOTO GABRIELLE LAPERRIERE LEBLANC

Do or DIY: A look into Montreal’s homegrown tattoo scene

Discover how self-taught tattoo artists are reshaping the industry

Marik Thexton @vie.dange

Let’s face it: tattoos no longer hold the same off-colour reputation they once did. Nowadays, it seems everyone—from kindergarten teachers to pastors—has at least one. The demand for body art has gone up dramatically and the number of tattoo artists has followed suit.

Recent years have seen a rise in do-it-yourself (DIY) tattoo artists in particular. Artists are learning on their own or through their peers rather than putting themselves through the traditional gruelling tattoo apprenticeships. These artists usually work out of home studios or shared spaces with other DIY artists. They mainly find their clientele through social media, and are able to build their own unique style and make a name for themselves rather than blend into the lineup of a tattoo shop’s staff.

Montreal, with its reputation as Canada’s hub of arts and culture, has become the home of a thriving DIY tattoo scene. However, the city’s penchant for the arts isn’t the only thing that has allowed the proliferation of DIY tattooing. In Montreal, the legal context in which tattooing can take place isn’t so much unique as it is non-existent—the province of Quebec doesn’t have a single law regarding the trade.

“It’s weird when you realize we’re not communally deciding not to follow the rules. The rules just aren’t there,” said Bex Levesque, a DIY artist who has been tattooing for a little over a year. The 21-year-old has a background in visual arts and the transition to tattooing simply afforded them a new medium with which to express themselves.

When Levesque began tattooing, they were only inking their own body, a rite of passage for most new tattoo artists. However, as soon as they started working on other people, the health and safety of their clients became a top priority.

Unfortunately, client safety and sanitation isn’t a paramount practice for every artist.

Levesque explained that even the most minute details, like frequent glove changes or waiting a full 60 seconds after spraying disinfectant, are crucial. “Stuff like that? A lot of people just don't do it,” they shared.

The risks of poor sanitation practices range from bacterial skin infections to chronic bloodborne diseases like HIV or hepatitis. Clients aren’t the only ones at risk; inadequate tattoo hygiene can lead to artists infecting themselves too.

While individual shops and studios may impose rules and

the industry since 2016. “You end up just being an assistant—people who do those old-school mentorships usually let years go by before even letting their apprentices touch a machine.”

For Clermont, it was obvious from the get-go that a traditional apprenticeship wasn’t going to work.

“I started to [tattoo] on my own because I knew I didn’t want to do it through the apprenticeship model,” he said. “There are definitely advantages to apprenticing. It definitely proves resilience and gumption on the mentees’ part, but I also believe it leaves too much room for abuse of power because of the relationship it creates.”

Though he admittedly hasn’t experienced it first-hand, Clermont says these power abuses are very often gender-based.

“There’s a lot of selectivity going on in traditional tattoo shops in regards to the people they take on as apprentices, and it’s typically very closed off to women. It’s very misogynistic; there’s a lot of male egos to contend with.”

Clermont works out of Grey Market Salon, a space shared by several DIY tattoo artists, and the space strives to distance itself from the male-dominated norm. Since its inception, the studio has had a majority of female artists. Clermont explained that Grey Market’s artists represent a wider shift in the industry.

comfortable or offer anything to cover up. I just had to have my boobs out in a shop full of men.”

When Provencher discovered the world of DIY tattooing, she realized tattoo sessions didn’t have to be loaded with discomfort.

“The tattoo artist took more time with the consultation. There was way more room for me to communicate my boundaries and concerns. I felt a lot safer and the approach felt a lot more human,” she said.

DIY tattooing is bringing about huge changes to the landscape of the industry and the experience of getting tattooed. So, it should come as no surprise that tattooing methods and techniques are also being transformed.

“A lot of the technique that looks funky that you see from DIY tattoos is because people are learning their own way to tattoo,” said Levesque. “You can discover new ways and different ways of tattooing, things you’re not technically supposed to do. That's how you get super cool artists doing super cool, new, funky things.”

Clermont also sees how DIY tattooing has broadened the tattoo industry.

regulations on their artists, there are no legal requirements for budding tattoo artists in Montreal. With no formal training or health and safety certifications needed, the degree of precaution DIY tattooers take is entirely informed by their own research— or lack thereof.

Levesque elaborated: “I think because we [DIY artists] aren’t learning in that more standardized environment—where you have extremely experienced artists teaching you, forcing you to just do the cleaning shit for a year during your apprenticeship— we’re all learning from each other through tattoo trades and word of mouth. So, the extent to which you decide to do your research and inform yourself really just depends on how much you care and how serious you think it is.”

Traditionally, hopeful tattooists work under a mentor in a shop for years before becoming artists in their own right. While classical apprenticeships in a shop environment might lead to more stringent health and safety practices, this format comes with plenty of socio-economic barriers.

“[In] the classic apprenticeship model you have to pay a huge sum of money—generally thousands of dollars—to even be allowed in the space,” explained Arnaud Clermont, an artist who’s been in

“In recent years, especially in Montreal, there’s a lot more women tattooing. The DIY scene plays a huge part in that because they don’t have to go through apprenticing for some 40-yearold man who just wants to have young women around him.”

The male-dominated aspect of the industry isn’t only felt by the people working within it, as clients are affected as well. Melodie Provencher is no stranger to getting tattooed; at barely 25 years old, she has over 65 tattoos with no plans to stop any time soon.

“When I first started getting tattooed, it was in traditional shop environments and it always felt very male gaze-y,” she explained. “When I got my breasts tattooed the artist didn’t ask me if I was

“Tattooing styles used to be very gatekept but I feel like it’s opened up a lot in the past few years. The biggest thing is getting the sanitary aspect down. Everything else pertaining to style and creativity? You can just fuck around.”

The open-mindedness and experimentation that have become characteristic of DIY tattooing mean that there is tons of room for creativity. To the artists, that is the highlight of the practice.

“It’s the one job that doesn’t feel like a job. Being able to create original artwork on people, in such a permanent way, it’s just incredibly gratifying,” Clermont explained.

“Being able to tattoo my art on people?” said Levesque. “It’s so fucking surreal. I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever wrap my head around.”

ARNAUD CLERMONT EXECUTING A FREESTYLE TATTOO ON HIMSELF. PHOTO MARIK THEXTON

ARNAUD CLERMONT'S TATTOOING SET-UP AND EQUIPMENT PREPARED ACCORDING TO PROPER SANITATION GUIDELINES. PHOTO MARIK THEXTON

Love In Polarity

Michelle M. Ilunga @mi3hell3

Colette Ma Chouette

Tu m'envoutes et t’es tout ce que je sais

J'étais ta bête, trop grande et trop inquiète

Mais maintenant dans ma chambre d’enfance

Tu me manques Tes bagues et tes blagues sonnent dans mes oreilles

Et je te sens dans mes orteils Je sais que c’est trop personnel mais j’ai besoin que tu m'enterres

Swallow You Whole

I’ll move to every city carrying you within me

You’ll test the waters and never be your father

You’ll know what I mean when I tell you I wish I was clean because only you have known me since I was fifteen I’ll hate my body and you’ll let me hide in yours

I’ll be starved of you and I’ll swallow you whole and hopefully, then you’ll find your home within me like I have within you

The Concordia Stingers' men's soccer team has seen a lot of changes since the end of last season.

A whopping 11 new players have taken the pitch, including six defenders, three midfielders, one forward and one goaltender.

On top of this, ten players have graduated since last season, including former captain and defender Sean Holmes, whose captaincy role was passed on to midfielder John Cevik.

One of head coach Greg Sutton’s most important tasks for this season will undoubtedly be to ensure the cohesion of his team's new lineup.

However, the 2023-24 campaign for the Stingers has been off to a rocky start with the team recording a win in their most recent game, two ties and three losses in their first six games.

Now that the Stingers have secured their first win of the season, Sutton can finally exhale as his team has finally entered the win column.

“We have a lot of new players, there’s going to be a little bit of growing pains, but we’re going in

The new kids on the block

The Stinger’s men’s soccer team welcomes 11 rookies

Blake Saraga @blake_saraga

the right direction,” Sutton said.

With half the team now composed of rookies, this year's men’s soccer roster looks a lot different than years prior. However, the new recruits are in good hands with Sutton.

The former Montreal Impact (now CF Montreal) star goaltender has coached with the Stingers for ten years. He understands what it takes to compete at a high level, holding his players to the same standard.

“We’re lucky to have a coach that has so much experience,” said Stingers’ defender Lundon Durand Browne.

Sutton said he knows that this new roster has the potential to be electric, but first, the players must get on the same page—and that starts with the team’s veterans.

“We got a lot of veterans that understand what it’s like to come in and play for a new team,” said Sutton. “They’ve taken the rookies in and it’s helped for sure.”

Jared Leheta, a third-year forward for the Stingers, exemplifies what Sutton is describing. Having embraced the role of mentor and

leader, Leheta is optimistic about his team.

“There’s not a bad day with this team,” said Leheta. “The vibes are good and I know everything’s going to come together.”

Leheta has been able to push the Stingers’ offence well this season. He scored both of the Stingers’ goals in their 2-2 draw to Université du Québec à Montréal on Sept. 10 and is set to lead the way more throughout the season.

The Stingers’ defence has been up to standard at the start of the season, as they have only surrendered 1.75 goals per game. However, the offence is looking for a spark in order to propel Concordia into the win column after scoring a subpar 1.25 goals per game throughout the first five contests.

The second step to success is team chemistry; and according to rookie Browne, the Stingers’ have built up a lot of it.

Both Leheta and Browne also agree the veterans and rookies have been on the same page from the getgo in order to change these results.

“As much as the rookies have respect for the vets, the vets have the same respect for the rookies. It’s been a smooth transition and I couldn’t ask for better, honestly,” Browne said.

The St-Hubert native talked about how the camaraderie in the Stingers’ locker room reminded him of his six years playing with the Montreal Impact youth development team.

He also described the squad as his second family due to the amount of hours spent together in preparation for the season. Not only has the team meshed well, but their intensity in practice and drive to compete at a high level have never wavered.

With first-year players being put in a position to play meaningful minutes, they are expected to acclimate to the varsity level sooner, rather than later.

Browne mentioned how university soccer has been different from any setting he’s played in before. He described the U Sports level as more physical, with less focus on stylish plays as seen from soccer greats like

Messi and Maradona. The game is more about getting the ball up the field by any means necessary.

“I think the new guys coming are still adapting to the speed and directness of soccer at the university level,” added Leheta. “It’s less passing, it’s less cute and it's more physical for sure.”

The Stingers have acknowledged and understand the expectations set by Sutton, embracing the challenge as the season is in full swing. Their focus is now directed towards racking up wins.

Now that the Stingers’ new and improved roster has their first win under their belt against a strong Sherbrooke team, they have proven that they have what it takes to compete for a playoff spot.

SECOND-YEAR DEFENDER RAZVAN COLICI BATTLES AGAINST TWO CITADINS PLAYER. COURTESY REUBEN POLANSKY-SHAPIRO / CONCORDIA ATHLETICS

RSEQ university baseball debuts

Quebec university baseball programs eager for future in the RSEQ

Conor Tomalty @Conor_Tomalty

A fter being patient for four long years, the Concordia Stingers’ baseball team has joined the newly-established Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec (RSEQ) University division for the 2023-24 season.

Alongside the Stingers, the new RSEQ division will additionally feature rosters from the McGill University Redbirds, the Université du Québec à TroisRivières Patriotes (UQTR) and the Université de Montréal (UdeM) Carabins. This inaugural season will showcase the high level of competition that these programs produce, now with a league of their own.

“Our status within the [Concordia Stingers Athletics] department evolved as well,” said Stingers’ head coach Howard Schwartz. “Going from ‘Just don’t bother us, don’t embarrass us and you can play ball with our name on it’ and no support, to [continuing to stay at] the varsity level and all the responsibilities that come with that.”

Schwartz explained that the level of talent was always exceptional, yet the former leagues’ administration lacked the understanding to run the division. He added the Stingers’ athletic department would provide further assistance if the teams broke off from the former association to form a sturdier RSEQ conference.

The Quebec baseball teams made the league, providing Schwartz’s team with the justification needed for Concordia’s support.

The garnered support has had a positive impact on the baseball team, especially when compared to years past.

The Stingers' baseball team has a rocky history. From 1995 to 2018, Concordia played in an associative league composed of teams from both Ontario and Quebec universities. When the league disbanded, Schwartz’s Stingers were forced to settle for exhibition play. This style of play continued in 2021 following the cancellation of recreation and athletics in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Finally, in 2022, Concordia played in the Ontario University Athletics division with their eyes set on 2023, where they finally found their rightful home in the RSEQ.

The administrative support stemming from both the programs and the governing league itself is appreciated by the teams involved, but for the RSEQ varsity baseball league to have success going forward, it comes down to one word.

“Stability,” said Redbirds head coach Christopher Haddad. “[This league] was sort of unstable for the past five to ten years. Hopefully, this becomes bigger than just 12 season games.

More teams are involved, it’s great for us, but it needs to be great for baseball in Quebec in general.”

When it comes to talent, the Quebec teams are in no shortage. Many players have experience with high-level competition from across Canada and the United States, with resumes that include High-A and all-star game participation in their respective leagues. Players such as Stingers’ pitchers Riley Clahane and Nathan Lavoie have both played for the Junior Elite Montreal Orioles.

“The RSEQ players represent some of the best junior athlete baseball players in the province,” said Schwartz. “The only level above it would be the first-level entry into the pros, semi-pro.”

After three weeks of baseball transpiring, UQTR remained the only undefeated team with a record of 4-0. Following the first place Patriotes are the Redbirds with a 3-2 record, the Stingers with a record of 2-4 and the last place UdeM Carabins who still hunger for their first win of the campaign at 0-3.

A STINGERS BASEBALL PLAYER TAKES A BIG SWING AT GARY CARTER FIELD IN CÔTE-SAINT-LUC ON SEPT. 13.

PHOTO ALICE MARTIN

HEAD COACH HOWIE SCHWARTZ DEBRIEFS IN THE OUTFIELD AFTER THEIR LOSS AGAINST MCGILL. PHOTO ALICE MARTIN

HEAD COACH HOWIE SCHWARTZ LOOKS AT THE PLAYER AT THE PLATE. PHOTO ALICE MARTIN

The new age of Canadian women’s soccer: Lessons, not letdowns

Igrew up knowing a decent amount about professional soccer, but almost nothing about women’s soccer specifically.

I have two older brothers who absolutely love the sport—they were players themselves. My siblings loved soccer so much that a certain level of knowledge was passed onto me. Without ever really following the sport too closely: I had a favourite player, knew a good few dozen star players and had a rough idea of which Premier League or Europa League teams were the best.

However, this was all men’s soccer.

This year, I realized that I didn’t know nearly as much about women’s soccer as I did about men’s. On an international scale, women’s soccer isn’t talked about, advertised or funded nearly as much as men’s soccer is. Essentially, the women’s game isn’t appreciated as a sport in the same way the men’s is.

For women’s soccer to be so underappreciated in this country is ridiculous, given that our national team is ranked far higher than the men’s team.

In Canada, someone that wants to get to know women’s soccer has to consider far more than simple performance. Women’s soccer is much more nuanced than men’s—they work hard on the pitch to win games, and work hard off the pitch to receive equal

rights to their male counterparts.

In July, the women’s national team made a deal with Canada Soccer, allegedly ensuring they’d be paid equally to the men’s team at the World Cup. It was a big step in an ongoing labour dispute that the team has been dealing with for the past two years. One they had

forced to choose between receiving a fair share of the rewards from our teams' successes at the World Cups and our commitment to equal pay and equal treatment,” the national team wrote in the statement.

Canadian team captain Christine Sinclair added that there is an ongoing lack of resources for the

make it out of the group stages of the 2023 FIFA World Cup.

Perhaps the team underperformed due to lack of personnel, but the way I see it, a two-year long battle off the pitch for equal rights does not exactly equate to a “lack of will.”

I do believe there is a silver lining to all of this. Canada’s na-

Cup, but we shouldn’t undermine the reputation it built over the past few years.

On top of this, a recent poll conducted by for Global News showed the fanbase was there.

The Women’s World Cup this year garnered more interest in Canada, with 41 per cent of Canadians saying they’d be “paying close attention to the matches,” compared to 34 per cent for the men’s World Cup last year.

The battle for equal rights in women’s sports is a fight that will likely continue for a while, and while it does not take away from the talent that exists on our national team, it does affect their ability to perform at their maximum potential.

GRAPHIC MYRIAM OUAZZANI

been fighting while training for the World Cup and while playing international matches. However, as the team stated on social media earlier this year, the deal came at a price.

"We have been forced to choose between compensation and the funding required to hold necessary training camps. We have been

Get to know Concordia’s intramural sports leagues

Alice Martin @_alcmrtn

women's national team as well as youth teams across Canada.

And still, we’ve been so quick to criticize the team lately.

For instance, a columnist for The Globe and Mail wrote that the Canadian women’s team “lacked either the will or personnel” to advance past their opponents and

tional women’s soccer team has made its mark over the past few years, most notably with its gold medal position at the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games.

We, as both fans and media members, have been quick to criticize the team this year given its performance at the FIFA World

I would love to see my peers and the people around me talk about our women’s team more often— and with more appreciation—in the future. After all, in the last 20 years, the national team has almost consistently ranked within the top ten most favoured teams to win world tournaments, such as the FIFA World Cup. Once again, they did this while receiving little to no support from their own federation. That alone is worthy of immense appreciation.

Hidden away in the Loyola campus’ sports facilities— from the Concordia gymnasium (John Dore Court) to the Ed Meagher Arena and the Concordia Stadium—is a wide variety of intramural sports.

Intramurals are recreational sports typically offered in an educational institution. They can include basketball, hockey, soccer, ultimate frisbee, volleyball and more.

Every year, more than 2,000 people sign up to intramurals in an approximated 200 teams, according to Concordia Recreation. Intramural sports are accessible for a fee that varies on the sport.

Students, alumni, staff, faculty and the general public—with the exception of current season varsity players—are all welcome.

While members can create their own intramural teams and sign up as a group, players without an ensemble can also sign up on their own and will be grouped with other individual participants in a draft team.

There are no official practices, just weekly games that eventually go onto playoffs at the end of the season.

Levels of competition may vary depending on the sport: soccer and volleyball are offered recreationally, while hockey is only offered at

higher levels of competition. Regardless, Concordia’s intramural leagues are branded as a “great way to stay active and meet new people,” according to the league website. Megan McManus, Matthew Bergeron and Nata Piečaitis joined the basketball league individually and were part of the draft team. The three of them all had athletic spirits, which is what enticed them to pursue a recreational league in their university years.

For Bergeron, it was the need to find a sport to play in between soccer seasons that compelled him to look up intramural sports at Concordia. However, he also wanted to

We cannot let the World Cup undermine the progress of women’s soccer in Canada

Hannah Scott-Talib @hannah.sctt

The perfect low-commitment way to stay active through team sports

indulge in his social side.

“I thought it'd be nice to get to know different people from different faculties,” said Bergeron. “Sometimes, when you're in engineering, everything siloes you.”

Bergeron and Piečaitis met on the draft team last year. Piečaitis, a third-year psychology student,

said her favourite part of intramurals was being able to break a sweat during weekly games.

The same went for McManus, a master’s student in exercise science. McManus played sports all throughout high school. When she heard of intramural sports through a friend who was build-

easy-going and laid-back where I could meet new people and play once a week, so it wasn’t too time-demanding,” she explained.

McManus, much like Bergeron and Piečaitis, noticed differences in levels of competition between the draft teams and the premade teams. Members of the premade teams tended to know each other more and have similar levels of experience than the draft team, explained McManus. -

A Hockey Hero Moves On

Montreal Canadiens goaltender Carey Price announces the end of his 15-year NHL career

Emily Douris-Blondin @emily.douris

Hopes of Carey Price making his anticipated comeback to the Habs seem to be over, "barring a miracle." The loss weighs heavy on the shoulders of fans like me, as the goaltender defined the organization for so long.

During a press event for CFMoto that announced him as a brand ambassador, Price announced he would not be returning to the NHL due to the a torn meniscus injury suffered in the 2021 playoffs. He leaves the league as one of the greatest goaltenders in the history of the Montreal Canadiens and in the eyes of Montrealers.

I have always been a Montreal Canadiens fan and Price has held the position as my favourite goaltender in hockey for a long time. I resonated a lot with him since we both play the same position—it doesn’t matter if it’s in different sports. My grandpa would even call me Carey Price when cheering me on at my soccer games.

My grandpa was the only person in my family that shared my love for the Canadiens. My parents were always confused as to why I became a Habs fan. My mom cheers for the Ottawa Senators,and my dad loves the Toronto Maple Leafs. Although I will never truly know why I became a fan of the Canadiens, I always found their gameplay compelling.

I was devastated when I heard the news of Price’s NHL exit. I was blindsided. I remained optimistic thinking that he was going to return to the team. I don’t know if the Montreal Canadiens are ever going to be the same without him, given his lengthy tenure as their franchise netminder.

However, he is not officially retired and is expected to remain on the long-term injured reserve until his contract ends in 2026. Price’s last appearance dates back to April 2021 before undergoing surgery to repair his knee.

Price was drafted fifth overall by the Montreal Canadiens in the 2005 NHL draft and has stayed loyal to his team ever since.

Price helped the Canadiens win the Atlantic Division four times and, most importantly, led them to their Stanley Cup Final appearance in 2021. This was the first time the Habs made it to the Stanley Cup Final since 1993.

He was within reach of the Stanley Cup—often dubbed the hardest trophy to win in sports— but he was left disappointed as the Montreal Canadiens lost the series 4-1 to the Tampa Bay Lightning.

My grandpa and I would talk about Montreal games whenever we could, including this one. We could go on for hours discussing everything hockey-related. It was a tough

pared to my other teams, but overall, it's nice meeting new people, which I liked about the draft,” she added.

“We were a terrible team both semesters,” Bergeron laughed. “I can't say I wasn't part of the problem, but it was very fun overall. I always looked forward to playing.”

McManus noted that all teams were respectful of each other and that the competition was healthy. While the basketball draft team made the most of their time together, Piečaitis said the discrepancy between the skill levels of the draft team against other pre-made teams became tiresome at times.

Piečaitis suggested the idea of “making two divisions—a division for people who are looking to play really seriously and one that's less intense.”

She added that the benefit of advertising the leagues properly

would inform potential registrants of the skill level inside the league. Regardless, she said she thinks that intramurals at Concordia are great because they offer a space to people who enjoy team sports, but who don’t necessarily want to play in a competitive setting. While registration for most fall activities is currently closed, registration for dome soccer and dome ultimate frisbee will open on Oct. 3, and seasons for both sports will run throughout the winter.

loss for both us and the city of Montreal. Although he did not win the Stanley Cup, he leaves the NHL as a winner of the Bill Masterton Memorial Trophy, Hart Memorial Trophy, Ted Lindsay Award, Vezina Trophy and William M. Jennings Trophy. He has also recorded the most wins as a goaltender in Canadiens history with 361 and most games played as a goaltender in Canadiens history with 712.

The Canadiens' goaltender will end his career with a 361-261-79 record, a 2.51 goals-against average, a .917 save percentage and 49 shutouts.

This ending is bittersweet for Price, but he is proud of his career as he stated on Tuesday, “I’m going to be a Montreal Canadien for the rest of my life." He joins the long list of Montreal Canadiens legends, alongside goaltenders Jacques Plante, Ken Dryden and Patrick Roy.

I hold the memories of watching Price and the Canadiens close to my heart ever since my grandpa passed away. The goaltender’s absence from the NHL feels like a piece of my childhood is leaving with him because he has become such an important part of my life and my relationship with my grandpa.

Not only will Price’s legacy find a special place in the hallowed halls of the Bell Centre, but in the hearts of the entire fanbase as well.

GRAPHIC MYRIAM OUAZZANI

LOYOLA CAMPUS’ SPORTS FACILITIES HOST THE DIFFERENT INTRAMURAL SPORTS LEAGUES. PHOTO DOROTHY MOMBRUN

In defense of ghosting

Lory Saint-Fleur @itsjustloryy

The classic saying, “There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” could not be more accurate in our current online dating landscape.

Dating apps have allowed us to choose a person by simply swiping right or left. Looking for a hookup? You’re at the right place! Looking for a possible relationship? It might be a bit harder to find, but it could happen! As we get instant access to a larger pool of possibilities, picking the right person for the type of relationship that we are looking for becomes harder.

With this increase in access to people’s rapid-fire profiles, a new norm has taken root: ghosting.

Ghosting is the art of letting someone down by simply never having contact with them again. You may be left wondering why people simply disappear without any explanation. You may ask yourself questions like: Is it me? My personality? Something I’ve done? The answer to all these questions is often no.

The reason behind ghosting is different from one person to another. Ghosting has saved a lot of people, including me, from very awkward situations. For me, ghosting has mostly been a mix of self-preservation and fading connections.

As someone who had a non-existent romantic life before the age of 19, dating apps were the first place I turned to. A naive girl on dating apps in the middle of a pandemic, what could go wrong? Navigating the

Is ghosting ever okay?

online dating world has been a constructive experience.

My first time ghosting someone was due to a very unwanted picture of a man’s package. I’m sure that many can relate to the terrifying view and surprise. In terms of self-preservation, I’ve ghosted people for simply giving weird vibes, and as a woman, I will always follow my gut as safety should be my number one priority.

As ghosting has increasingly become a norm on dating apps, debates on the practice have been endless. Ghosting is an easy thing to criticize, especially when you’re the one on the receiving end, or rather, the lack of receiving a direct message at all. It can be perceived as inconsiderate and hurtful, but what if it is a justified action to take?

In my experience, an instance of failed connections is the common cause of ghosting, and this is how the story usually goes. After talking with someone for a week or two, I’m ready to go on a date, so I ask them out. As the day approaches, I transform into a ball of nerves. It’s a mix of excitement and pure stress. I plan my outfit and my hair multiple days in advance. I practice how to start the conversation and how to fill the awkward silences.

D-day arrives and anything can happen. I get to the date, and it goes great! I have a nice time, they laugh at all my jokes, we eat good food, and at the end of the

Ghosting is not okay

Kaitlin Gong

It’s easier to ghost now than ever before—and the practice isn’t limited to romantic relationships. With increasing access to social media apps and mobile phones, anyone can just leave a text message on “read.”

Maybe you opened up to someone and were waiting for their response, but a reply never came. You might then start overthinking, you go down a rabbit hole and your mental health starts to spiral.

I’ve been ghosted before and it’s not a nice feeling. I feel like I wasn’t worthy of an explanation or that I didn’t matter to that person. I don’t think anyone would enjoy feeling this way

night, we even end up kissing. We go our separate ways, and a glimpse of hope regarding a possible connection appears. Sadly, after a less successful second date, the vibe simply fades away, and the spark is just not there. In this case, ghosting can be a natural way to fade out with-

out creating unnecessary drama. While closure can be good in many ways, it can also lead to complicated situations.

At times, ghosting doesn’t come from a bad place but can be a result of someone’s inability to control their emotions or handle unpleasant situations. While healthy

communication is an easy thing to preach, putting in the effort and having the courage to practice it every day can be arduous.

whether or not they support the practice. Ghosting hurts—plain and simple.

Whether it’s with someone you were somewhat close to or simply an acquaintance, it doesn’t matter. It hurts either way. If a guy is a bit of a player and uses girls sexually, it’s likely a defence mechanism based on his past experiences. Meanwhile, the girl gets pushed into the cycle of hurt for no reason.

It’s common to not hear back from someone whether or not you actually did something wrong. You might look at yourself and think you’re the problem. The truth is that it doesn’t hurt less even if you’re not at fault.

Ghosting is not that different. It might be all someone knows as their primary communication style. Maybe you were ghosted by someone who’s fallen victim to the practice one time too many themselves, and this becomes their norm.

We don’t always know the impact of our actions on people’s lives and how they may affect their communication style. It doesn’t need to be a mystery. The key is always empathy. We’re not always aware of what other people are going through or how our actions

will affect them. There are better ways to deal in a situation than to leave someone hanging.

I’m a firm believer in conversations. I think a real conversation among individuals, especially those who are arguing, can go a long way. A proper conversation can mend relationships. I think a lot of relationship issues stem from miscommunication.

I’m also a believer in exceptions. If you’ve tried to end things with someone and they won’t stop contacting you to the point that it reaches harassment,

then it’s okay to end communication altogether. You tried. You did your part and they wouldn’t listen. That’s understandable. Maybe that was the only way to get them to stop.

Although ghosting implies that someone disappears out of your life without notice, they are still sending a message. Sometimes silence is an answer in itself. Words can hurt, but sometimes silence is worse.

GRAPHIC RENEE KENNEDY

Lysol vs. vinegar: The ideological warfare in our kitchen

From our kitchen essentials to the anti-oppression struggle

Collette Villeroy @alex_i_s_

Ilive in a queer housing collective of eight people, which was recently embroiled in ideological warfare—all surrounding a bottle of cleaning spray on the kitchen counter. We have had Lysol in that bottle for years, then someone replaced it with apple cider vinegar, then someone swapped the Lysol back in the bottle, only to be replaced by the vinegar yet again.

In the seemingly trivial corners of our shared living spaces, a profound socio-political battle was being waged. The Lysol versus vinegar debate transcends mere cleaning preferences, reflecting the very fault lines of the global struggles for climate action and self-determination.

Lysol, with its gleaming brand-

ing and corporate-backed promises, represents the deeply entrenched capitalist system that continually sacrifices our planet's health for profit. The same system that, while promising cleanliness, floods our ecosystems with pollutants and fills the pockets of multinational corporations. It kills 99.9 per cent of the germs with sheer brutality, embodying the capitalist machinations that prioritize immediate purification over organic coexistence—neatly packaged in a convenient spray bottle.

On the other side stands vinegar, humble and unpretentious, a symbol of resistance against corporate hegemony. A testament to sustainable choices and the undeni-

able proof that we don't need multinational conglomerates to dictate our cleanliness norms. The preference for vinegar is a stand against the blind consumerism that's been thrust upon us. It's an act of rebellion, aligning with the worldwide calls for urgent climate action and a break from the chains of profit-driven environmental apathy.

But let's take a moment to pan out from this microcosm of the most important battle in our kitchen’s history and consider the bigger picture. The truth is, while we wrestle with the ideological implications of our kitchen spray bottle, the world faces challenges of an immensely greater magnitude. Our kitchen skirmishes pale in

Thank God for the dog

Everyone loves a good boy

Marianne Liendo-Dufort @marana21

I saw this tiny, lonely gas station. I was happy, it meant I could use an actual bathroom and grab a snack.

This Petro-Canada on Highway 16 near Innisfree is, for a lack of a better word, really cute. Just a bit off the highway, it’s surrounded by tall grasses and native flowers. I figured it would be a perfect place to let Miko, my dog, stretch his legs and do his business.

After I was finished filling up my car, I parked on the side and let the dog out. I was standing alone, with no one in sight except for a single employee through the dirty window of the building.

This is when the most Western-looking truck I had ever seen pulled up next to my car.

comparison to the global movement for decolonization and immediate action on climate change. It's crucial to remember that, in the grander scheme, the battle over a Lysol bottle or vinegar solution is just that—a bottle in our kitchen where we need a cleaning spray in a housing collective of eight. Enter the two-bottle solution. The agreement is not a grand compromise between two world views, but rather is a gentle reminder of perspective. It nudges us to remember that all eight of us must find the best way to complete chores that accommodate all of our preferences. We can find convergence in our interconnected, often complex realities. While we should certainly

remain anchored in our broader convictions, there are moments to select our battles judiciously. History, both within our queer collective and on grander stages, showcases the perils of rigid stances. The two-bottle solution in our shared space is a testament that there is a solution for everything, as long as we’re willing to listen.

I hope that as these two bottles coexist together, they will become a metaphor of our parallel harmonies. Long live our collective and cleanliness.

Afew years ago, I found myself tree planting out in Northern British Columbia. It was me—a dirtbag with a bleached buzz cut— my beautiful husky, German shepherd and Bernese mountain dog mutt and my sturdy ten-year-old Subaru Outback. I looked like the most stereotypical queer kid you could imagine.

At that point of my cross-country journey, I was on Highway 16

nearing Innisfree, Alta. I had been driving by endless golden fields of wheat, passed by bison ranches and seen my fair share of farms. Most were decorated with Canadian flags, with the occasional American flag sprinkled in.

I had been driving for about eight hours that day and my gas tank was getting low. I knew I needed to stop and refill at the next exit. About half a mile later,

A lovely pair of truck nuts dangled below the bumper, eclipsed only by multiple stickers adorning the vehicle’s rear. I could decipher that the driver was both a veteran and a proud gun owner.

A six-foot-tall man opened the door, lit up a cigarette and stepped out of his truck. The actual gasing area was far enough from where we were parked. I later guessed this is where the employees would smoke during their breaks, as

indicated by the numerous cigarette butts and empty soda cans.

The man took his first inhale while looking at me like I had a third eye. I looked back at him. He wore a bright red “Make America Great Again” cap.

While I’d like to think I give everyone a fair chance when it comes to first impressions, traveling solo as a woman forces you to be more wary of others. Unlike this man, I do not own guns. All I had was a rusty hammer in my trunk and a 90-pound dog—who was busy smelling flowers as he did his business.

All the possible scenarios were running through my mind faster than ever. This was in the midst of the Trump era, inevitably leading me to conjure the bigoted ideas spewed by the then-American president. I did not know what the next moment held in store for me. The moment kept stretching; he was staring at me and me at him.

He took one last long inhale before pulling his cigarette out of his mouth, followed by an even longer exhale.

“Nice dog you got there,” he said before heading inside the gas station.

I chuckled, relieved, and called Miko back. We still had a long road ahead of us, but thank God for that dog—and his big dog privilege.

GRAPHIC CASSANDRA HERNANDEZ

PHOTO MARIANNE LIENDO-DUFORT

PHOTO MARIANNE LIENDO-DUFORT

Crossword: Prochaine station

ACROSS

1. To read quickly

5. Newspaper section

9. "Let's go" in Spanish

14. Everyone's first piercing

15. Mythologies

16. Wear down

17. Honeybee genus

18. Largest continent

19. Dressed to the ___

20. "This is the skin of a killer, Bella"

22. Banned pesticide

23. Winter driving hazard

24. 90s rapper

31. What the cow did

33. Largest city in Georgia (U.S.)

36. Shades

37. Meredith Baxter's role on "Family Ties"

38. Restaurant worker

40. Walk heavily

43. Information

44. Boleyn and Cleves

46. ___ de triomphe

48. Let's get trippy!

49. King Lear's daughter

50. Against

52. School URL ending

57. "Charlotte's Web" author

59. Skill fostered in driver's ed

63. Stuck, in a way

65. First Bond movie

66. British WWII gun

67. Indigenous to the Caribbean

68. School in Alberta

69. Matador's foe

70. Cancelled TV host

71. Back of the neck

72. Hallelujah!

DOWN

1. High-five sounds

2. Hard resin

3. Grab ___ (to eat)

4. The superior iced tea

5. Mathematician Turing

6. Singer Diana

7. Group of three

8. Mystical gathering

10. Very dry

12. Poetic tribute

13. French possessive

21. Something to scratch

25. Citrus peels

26. Beat ___ horse

28. Down under

29. Police rank: (abbr.)

30. Italian for "islands"

32. Ancient

33. Not ___ in the world

34. Muscular

39. Mauna ___

41. Tarnish

42. What athletes hope to beat (abbr.)

47. Mugs, e.g.

51. Midday snooze

54. Sci. of insects

55 River in Grenoble

56. 54 on the periodic table

58. Nota ___

60. Foe of yachts

61. What we all take after class

62. Lost to Clinton in 1996

63. Co. that merged into Verizon

64. NBA team (abbr.)

Words of Wisdom

"Munch munch, Crunch crunch, I'll be having a hash cookie for lunch."

- Ancient Proverb

Remote work: We stand with the unions

From May 2021 to May 2023, Concordia staff successfully operated on a hybrid schedule. Staff and faculty’s work week mandated three days in-person and two-day remotely. This structure allowed for a more productive, mentally resilient and motivated workforce.

Hybrid work heeds an improved work-life balance and helps mitigate burnout. The Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research has called it "the future of work."

On Aug. 14, 2023, Concordia decided to regress, blindside their invaluable workers and mandated its staff and faculty return to a four-day in-person schedule—all without consultation.

Over 600 staff and faculty at Concordia have signed a petition against this change.

It was also reported that female employees with children have been hit especially hard by the new mandate.

Concordia went forth with the decision to return to a four-day in-person schedule without informing the Faculty of Arts and Science (FAS). Members of the FAS have expressed their dissatisfaction of this new mandate to the dean of Arts and Science, Pascale Sicotte, as well as in a letter to Concordia President Graham Carr.

When the majority of Concordia staff chose to formally stand up and express their discomfort and concerns with the new mandate, the university met them with blatant ignorance. Concordia’s reaction only further reflects its administration’s lack of empathy for their workers.

Forcing staff and faculty to

return to this schedule only adds more stress and pressure to the employees who have been tirelessly working and adapting to a changing schedule since the first lockdown in 2020.

Concordia claims to be a next-generation university and a leader in sustainability. How can the university claim to bring "understanding" and a "commitment to the public" when they disregard their workers’ outcries for a more accessible work environment?

How can Concordia claim to fight for sustainability when working remotely not only cuts back on carbon emissions, but replaces time spent commuting for time with loved ones?

Concordia, once again, proves it is not a leader in anything but falling short of their

promises and adjusting to the current times.

Our alleged post-COVID-19 world has left us with crucial adjustments to the workplace.

The hybrid model, which allows for an individual to participate in-person or online, has become integral to inclusion and respect for one's schedule.

Even at The Link, we’ve made hybrid work the norm. If someone cannot attend an in-person gathering, we accommodate them the best we can.

Following through with Concordia employees' request for a three-day in-person schedule and fairer wages is the least the university can do to support the staff and faculty who allow this institution to function.

Suppose faculties want to have the opportunity to take care of

their well-being, resulting in a better attitude towards work. Why is forcing them into constraints that hinder their optimal working conditions be the answer?

FAS is not asking for much. They request a safe and healthier workplace that allows more time to prepare materials and boost productivity.On top of the ongoing housing and cost of living crises, reducing accessible work is only making it harder for employees to get by. We stand with the unions and fully support their demands.

The Concordia administration needs to listen to the demands of its employees who are the backbone of its so-called next-level university services, step up, and finally start heading in the direction of being the “leader” it claims to be.

Editor-in-Chief

ZACHARY FORTIER

Volume 44, Issue 2

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Concordia University

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TheLinkis publishes fourteen times during the academic year by TheLinkPublication Society Inc. Content is independent of the university and student associations (ECA, CASA, ASFA, FASA, CSU). Editorial policy is set by an elected board as provided for in TheLink's constitution. Any student is welcome to work on TheLinkand become a voting staff member.

Material appearing in TheLinkmay not be reproduced without prior written permision from TheLink

Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters 400 words or less wrill be printed, space permitting. The letters deadline is Friday at 4:00 p.m. TheLinkreserves the right to edit letters for clarity and length and refuse those deemed racist, sexist, horophobic, xenophobic Hbellous or otherwise contrary to TheLink's statement of principles.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS 2023-2024: Voting Members: Katy Brady, Caroline Marsh, Jordan Lee Jerome-Pitre | Non-Voting Members: Adam Gibbard, Zachary Fortier

TYPESETTING by The Link PRINTING by Hebdo-Litho.

CONTRIBUTORS: Menna Nayel, Julia Cieri, Abby Cole, Nadia Liboneye, Briahna McTigue, Menel Rehab, Marik Thexton, Michelle M. Ilunga, Blake Saraga, Hannah Scott-Talib, Emily Douris-Blondin, Lory Saint-Fleur, Kaitlin Gong, Renee Kennedy, Alexis Zhou, Cassandra Hernan.

House Ads: Panos Michalakopoulos

Cover: Dorothy Mombrun

Corrections for Vol. 44, Issue X:

Managing Editor

Coordinating Editor

Creative Director

Co-News Editors

Features Editor

Outreach Coordinator

Fringe Arts Editor

Sports Editor

Opinions Editor

Photo Editor

Video Editor

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Copy Editor

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AUTUMN DAREY

ANTHONY ISSA

MEIJI GRACE ESTRADA

MARIA CHOLAKOVA

INESS RIFAY

HANNAH VOGAN

PANOS MICHALAKOPOULOS

GABRIELLE LAPERRIÈRE-LEBLANC

ALICE MARTIN

OPEN

DOROTHY MOMBRUN

DANA HACHWA

MYRIAM OUAZZANI

CONOR TOMALTY

ADAM GIBBARD

In "Academic Freedom: The good, the bad, and the ugly" on p.7, the composition of the Academic Freedom Committee was incorrect. The committee consists of three non-academic members, not four. In addition, there are five faculty members appointed by CUPA and CUPFA, not four. In the article "Where TRAC ends and CREW begins" Stephanie Eccles' title was incorrect. Eccles is CREW's coordinator not the mobilization officer. Additionally, Johnson Zhu's last name was spelt "Zhou" when the correct spelling is "Zhu" The Link regrets all the above mentioned errors.