Volume 45, Issue 9

CONCORDIA'S INDEPENDENT PUBLICATION SINCE

Fringe Arts

Walter Chi-yan Tom

Concordia University remains silent on assault of Palestinian student

Activists are calling on the university to address the assault of Christopher Bahnan

Maria Cholakova

Over 56 days have passed since Christopher Bahnan was assaulted in the Henry F. Hall Building.

On Dec. 17, a er he nished a nal exam, a man aggressively bumped into Bahnan as he was about to enter the Hall building. e aggressor challenged him to a ght while using racist and homophobic insults. Bahnan gave him the middle nger.

Before Bahnan was able to enter the Hall building, the man attacked Bahnan, pushing him into the building’s vestibule. e man proceeded to punch Bahnan in the face and tried to rip his ke yeh o his body. e suspect had to be pulled o of Bahnan by nearby student witnesses.

Concordia’s Campus Safety and Prevention Services (CSPS) allegedly went to talk to Bahnan ve minutes a er the incident had occurred.

“I was surrounded by a number of security agents who all began pulling out little notebooks and asked me a variety of invasive questions while I was trying to deal with the assault that I was just subjected to,” Bahnan said. “Writing in their little notebooks, [CSPS] claimed that I'd been in a ght, which I denied and tried to correct them saying this wasn't a ght, I was assaulted.”

A er 45 minutes, the SPVM arrived on the scene and Bahnan submitted an incident report with both the Montreal police and CSPS. Following the assault, Bahnan went straight to the emergency room.

“I saw an emergency room doctor

Maria Cholakova

Concordia University is launching an investigation into the Concordia Student Union (CSU) regarding the Jan. 29 special general meeting (SGM) where undergraduate students voted on bringing Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) to Concordia’s Board of Directors (BoG).

e Link acquired an email sent to the CSU from Concordia provost Anne Whitelaw and Concordia VP of Services and Sustainability Mi-

who prescribed me some antibiotics and gave me a CT scan,” Bahnan said. “When we got the results from the CT scan, [the doctor] said it was a very good thing that we did this because [I] have a fractured sinus wall and I might need surgery.”

Bahnan is still waiting to hear if he needs surgery from a specialist at that hospital. He hasn’t received any updates from the SPVM since the incident.

According to Bahnan, CSPS’s actions a er the incident were not up to par.

Director of CSPS Darren Dumoulin called Bahnan a er the incident to express his sympathy and condolences regarding the attack.

“What he failed to do was to inform me of any meaningful resources that would be available to me,” Bahnan said.

Bahnan alleged that Dumoulin refused to issue a statement or warn students about the assault.

“[Dumoulin] mentioned [to me] that CSPS is always there for their students when they are in need,” Bahnan said, “which I immediately rebuked and said, ‘Well, clearly not, because I was assaulted and CSPS did nothing to help me.’”

According to Concordia spokesperson Julie Fortier, “It is inaccurate to say that Darren Dumoulin was dismissive when in fact he called the student the next day to check in on them and see if they needed anything. He also referred them to Health Services and told them to call him back if accessing care proved di cult. e stu-

dent did not call him back.”

At the time of publication, the university has yet to release a statement on the incident. Bahnan said he thinks that the university’s inaction is far from surprising.

“It's a long-standing tradition of Concordia to maintain a passive voice and refuse to take any responsibility for the lack of security and safety that they provide for their students,” Bahnan said. “It's very clear that it's a disproportionate amount of support that gets given to certain students over other students, and I unfortunately happen to land in the

latter rather than the former.”

Vanessa Massot, Concordia Student Union’s (CSU) academic and advocacy coordinator, agreed with Bahnan’s sentiment.

“We just want students to be able to be on campus and have a right to academia,” Massot said.

“[Concordia] continues to ignore the rise in anti-Arab and anti-Palestinian racism, and when it happens so blatantly on their campus, their failure to acknowledge it really just shows that their priority is not the safety or the well-being of the students.”

On Jan. 6, the CSU released a statement regarding the incident. In it, they condemned the “racially and sexually motivated attack” and accused the administration of ignoring Bahnan’s request for the university to publicly acknowledge his incident.

According to Fortier, the university cannot comment on whether or not the assault was a “hate crime” because the police investigation has not yet concluded its ndings.

When asked in an email why the university has yet to release a statement on the attack, Fortier did not provide an answer.

chael Di Grappa on Feb. 6. e email informed the union that the university would be launching an investigation into the CSU.

e university claimed they are launching this investigation following claims of alleged breaches to the Policy on Student Associations and Groups, the Policy on the Temporary Use of University Spaces, and the Code of Rights and Responsibilities during the Jan. 29 SGM vote.

e letter alleges that the auditorium used for the vote was over lled, violating regulation codes. e email also mentions the union’s use of the Henry F. Hall Building mezzanine to accommodate additional voters without permission. Another listed reason for the investigation is that the union served food without permission, breaking health regulations.

Lastly, the university has accused the union of allowing discrimina-

tion during the vote due to “heavily masked individuals.” e email claimed they “created an intimidating climate, that chants glorifying terrorism and recognized terrorist groups were made and tolerated, and that opposing voices were silenced.”

e university has opened an investigation into the SGM and suspended all CSU bookings. It is not yet clear how this will impact CSU services or the union’s upcoming elections.

At the Jan. 29 SGM, over 800 students voted in favour of the CSU implementing two BDS motions. e motions push for the university to divest from companies complicit in genocide, to defend student activists from sanctions, and for the union to bring the contents of the vote at the next Board of Governors meeting on Feb. 6.

is is a developing story.

CHRIS BAHNAN STANDS IN FRONT OF THE HENRY F. HALL BUILDING WHERE HE WAS ASSAULTED WEEKS PRIOR. PHOTO ALICE MARTIN

CREW continues to ght for higher wages

TAs and RAs are bargaining with Concordia to increase their wages to $45 an hour

Anna Tchernikov

TheConcordia Research and Education Workers Union (CREW) is continuing its ght to increase wages for its members.

In 2024, the union held several special general meetings, town halls, bargaining surveys and rallies, and the ght is still ongoing in the new year.

CREW started the semester with a general assembly on Jan. 30 to discuss wages and a new collective agreement.

On Feb. 5 and Feb. 6, CREW also held its pizza party where the union updated its members on negotiations with the university.

e new collective agreement demands higher wages, job security, no unpaid work hours, and stronger member protection for workers who report grievances or engage in political action outside of work. e demands also call for Concordia to index the hours of teaching assistants (TAs) to enrolment rates and to implement a

priority system guaranteeing minimum contract duration. According to CREW, these measures ensure workers can be protected from austerity measures while working su cient hours to make ends meet.

Jason Langford is a master’s student in history and a member of the CREW Union Bargaining Committee. Langford and his fellow union members are involved in negotiations with the university for the collective agreement.

Langford claims that due to an institutional oversight by the Concordia University administration, TA contracts for the fall semester ended on Dec. 6, before the exam period.

“We found ourselves in a situation where a lot of people would be asked or were planning to [be asked], based on their supervisor’s expectation, to be working past their contract end dates, which is illegal,” Langford said.

In response, CREW countered the unpaid work periods and won ve per cent of their total contract hours in wages as indemnity in the 2024 fall semester.

Concerning current work conditions, Langford explained that the common complaint from the majority of CREW members is the increased workload for TAs with no pay increases.

“Not enough TAs are being assigned to particular classes, so TAs are having to mark more with sometimes less hours, so having to take less time per student, and that creates a pretty stressful environment for a lot of people,” Langford said. “ e situation with [research assistants (RAs)] is very similar, people feel overworked and underpaid.”

Currently, Concordia’s TAs make $29 an hour compared to McGill’s $36.26 hourly wage, and $42.95 at the University of British Columbia. e

largest wage gap is with the University of Toronto’s TA rate of $51.93 an hour.

CREW’s current bargaining slogan, “Fight for $45!” is a shorthand for the union’s demand for a collective agreement that lasts until May 31, 2028. is demand asks for an adjustment of wages to a larger percentage or the rate of in ation in Montreal. e aim is to ensure a wage of over $45 per hour by June 1, 2025.

Langford explained that CREW gave Concordia their monetary demands on Dec. 2 without receiving a countero er since. e university responded that they would request conciliation before providing a countero er to avoid presenting an in ammatory o er.

e wages of Concordia TAs and RAs have trailed general in ation in Montreal by 7.5 per cent since their last raise in June 2022. An in ammatory o er would be considered something below the rate of in ation, or none whatsoever, Langford explained.

According to Langford, the Feb. 6 union meeting resulted in the adoption of a pressure tactics motion.

Langford said he finds it outrageous that, in this economy, it has become a norm for many TAs and RAs to work multiple other jobs as well as focus on their coursework. Despite providing labour essential to courses and professors, these workers are forced to wait for the university’s response.

“It creates a situation where people feel stressed, burnt out and ultimately

need to extend the amount of time that it takes them to nish their degrees,” Langford said. “ e situation with our pay and our working conditions keeps us stuck in a cycle of limbo.”

Becca Wilgosh is a geography PhD student who has organized with CREW since its inception. Wilgosh expressed the need for protections for workers who seek to resolve workplace problems, particularly for international student TAs whose graduation and future in Canada rely on their supervisor’s support.

“Some [TAs] face emotional abuse or manipulation, covert racism, sexism, ableism and immense overwork,” Wilgosh said, “but their situation is so precarious that they don’t want to pursue any sort of formal resolution for fear they will become known as di cult and all their relationships in their department will be ruined.”

According to Concordia spokesperson Julie Fortier, the university does not comment on con dential matters related to union-employer discussions.

Fortier added, “[Concordia is] hopeful that we will come to an agreement that addresses the needs of both the union members and the university.”

e Link’s Geneviève Sylvestre and Jared Lackman-Minco are teaching assistants and had no involvement in this article.

Hostile architecture in Montreal’s public spaces

Exploring

the role of design in shaping

@studiobonjourhi

In December 2024, Montreal unveiled its Municipal Universal Accessibility Plan 2024-2030 as part of its continued e orts to make the city more accessible.

ese initiatives aim to increase accessibility to the city’s public spaces and parks by utilizing designs that inuence behaviour.

With these design interventions and a focus on public municipal programming, some are saying that public spaces risk becoming increasingly structured and hostile.

e term hostile architecture or defensive design refers to urban design that intends to restrict certain

behaviours in public spaces.

According to Assim Mohammed, a graduate of McGill University’s Master of Urban Planning program, what makes defensive design choices “hostile” and the subject of public criticism is based on individual perception, not a static characteristic.

“A person might see a bench with armrests and not really think anything of it,” Mohammed said, “but the same person might look at the bench with barriers and more clearly de ne it as hostile architecture.”

Mohammed added that bars between benches can also function as armrests as an accessibility accommodation.

In 2021, bars on benches in Boston’s metro system were subject to debate, with the transit authority citing that the feature increased accessibility to its senior and disabled riders.

Despite following accessibility recommendations, a representative of the disability advocacy organization that helped with the design shared that, although armrests were important, the impact on unhoused people couldn’t be ignored.

“Not all armrests on benches are deliberately designed to be hostile, but they can be perceived as such because they are hostile to transient and unhoused people,” Mohammed said.

Zy St-Pierre-Bourdelais, a master's student in architecture at Université de Montréal and an activist for inclusive architecture, said that architects base their designs on the client’s vision for how a space should be used.

“ e client wants something

[that] will actually dictate a way of living, a way of studying, a way of resting in the park. [ ere are] way more actions that were dictated than we think when we arrive in a space. It was mostly all planned,” St-PierreBourdelais said.

ARMRESTS ON PUBLIC BENCHES ARE A COMMON EXAMPLE OF HOSTILE ARCHITECTURE. PHOTO ZOSIA

“Our behaviour in public spaces is regulated by active and passive choices made during the design process,” said Concordia University design professor Jeremy Petrus. “While physical barriers can be classi ed as active elements that directly dictate a behaviour, passive design subtly in uences it.”

Located on Ste. Catherine St. near Atwater Metro Station, Cabot Square is an urban park that the city’s unhoused population frequents. is is partly due to its proximity to shelters and outreach organizations such as Chez Doris and Resilience Montreal.

In June 2020, a bench in Cabot Square received online criticism based on its perceived hostility. e bench was not new, but a painted sign limiting the time people could sit altered its public perception.

Les Nocturnes is an outreach

group working with vulnerable populations in the Guy-Concordia and Cabot Square areas. According to Jay Vanisle, a street worker with the group, a new wave of hostile design is emerging in Montreal that is modifying spaces unhoused people call home.

Curving around the elevated planters of Cabot Square are a series of wooden planters. Across their seating area are protruding metal ridges that only permit sitting, making lying down on the benches more di cult.

“When it's obvious, then there is backlash. But if it's a subtle detail […] folks who never try to lay down on the bench might never notice,” Vanisle said.

Ryan Francom, of the Quebec Public Interest Research Group at Concordia and the Montreal community initiative Food Against Fascism, points to the skating rink at Cabot Square as

another example of development within city parks being used to limit the activity of unhoused people.

With the rink being a public facility, the city can control the use of the park for the winter season by maintaining programming.

“[Unhoused people] are constantly being chased out of spaces: be it metro stations, doorways and building entrances, fast food restaurants,” Vanisle said. “In absence of conventional housing, these are their homes, their social spaces.”

e hostile nature of city planning goes past infrastructure design. It is also re ected by increases in security measures and police presence as a form of implicit intimidation.

In 2022, the SPVM proposed to install new security cameras in di erent areas throughout the city, including Cabot Square, as a preventative

Concordia University president's statement draws criticism

Activists raise concerns with Graham Carr’s statement following January’s BDS vote

measure against “violent crime.”

According to Francom, this security infrastructure can make it easier for the police to monitor people and even remove them from speci c spaces if they linger or use them in ways the city does not want.

“[Surveillance] is part of the guidebook of architecture now when you plan a building or public space,” Petrus said.

He added that, like the physical barriers on the benches, surveillance can shape the public’s behaviour to align with the ones intended by the public or private entities that oversee the space.

“Hostile architecture doesn't really stop people from using spaces,” Francom said. ” ey just make the space more miserable to be in.”

With les from Claudia Beaudoin.

QUICKIES

Geneviève Sylvestre @gen.sylvestre

Some student associations and organizations at Concordia University have raised concerns over a statement made by the university’s president Graham Carr on Jan.30.

e Carr statement was released following a special general meeting (SGM) where undergraduate students voted in favour of two Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) motions.

On Jan. 29, 885 undergraduate Concordia students voted in favour of two motions: for the Concordia Student Union (CSU) to adopt BDS demands and for the union to bring those demands to the Board of Governors. Only 58 students voted against the motions. e total turnout for the vote was more than twice the 450 student quorum—the number of people needed to validate the vote.

In the statement released on Jan. 30, Carr reiterated that Concordia’s position on “such boycott campaigns” has been consistent, writing, “Such campaigns are contrary to the value of academic freedom upon which all universities are founded.”

He continued, saying that reports from the meeting were “deeply troubling” due to “the presence of heavily masked individuals, complaints of discriminatory behaviour and the use of intimidation tactics.” He called the behaviour at the meeting unacceptable and said it contravened Concordia policies.

Following the release, the School of Community and Public A airs

Student Association (SCPASA) and four other student associations condemned the statement in a post on Instagram.

“Despite a clear, democratically obtained majority, Graham Carr incessantly seeks to silence pro-Palestine students, claiming the motions to be ‘contrary to the value of academic freedom,’” the post read.

SCPASA executive secretary Samuel Gold said that he takes issue with Carr’s statement because it showed an “attitude of distrust” for student democracy.

“I think it really just demonstrates that this administration is not in it for the students at all,” Gold said.

e CSU has also released a response to Carr’s statement on Instagram, stating, “Graham Carr’s statement draws upon existing anti-Palestinian, anti-Arab and Islamophobic sentiment to present the result of a democratic vote in favour of BDS [...] as illicit, hostile and non-binding.”

Concordia spokesperson Julie Fortier told e Link that Concordia is “troubled” that people have chosen to “misread” and “purposefully miscommunicate” Carr’s statement.

“President Carr’s statement does not say that the motions [...] are contrary to the value of academic freedom,” Fortier said. “President Carr reiterates what has been Concordia’s position for years and that is that boycott campaigns are contrary to the value of academic freedom upon

which all universities are founded [italics in original].”

CSU academic and advocacy coordinator Vanessa Massot said they want to ask the administration if they believe academic freedom is a universal right.

“ e entire point of us wanting to boycott, divest and sanction is the fact that people in Gaza, right now, do not even have shelter, food, medicine, let alone universities,” Massot said. “ e entire point of what we're doing is for academic freedom and overall liberation.”

Michael Bueckert, interim president of Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East (CJPME), sent a letter to Carr to express grave concern over Carr’s comments.

In it, Bueckert listed several academic organizations in support of BDS, including the Middle East Studies As-

sociation and the American Studies Association. Bueckert also referred to the growing global concern that Israel is committing scholasticide in Gaza.

“When universities, students, and academic bodies hold Israel to account for its role in apartheid, this is an a rmation of the very values that underlie academic freedom, not an attack on it,” Bueckert wrote.

Director of media advocacy at CJPME Jason Toney also raised concerns with Carr’s statement and how it may make students fearful of advocating for Palestine.

“To use that kind of language that sti es debates and that sti es democratic expressions as it relates to a decision made by the CSU in a situation that seems to have followed all procedures and protocols,” Toney said, “it is extremely disappointing and highly concerning.”

As of the Fall 2025 semester, the Quebec Perspective bursaries will no longer be handed out to new college and university students in the province. The bursaries targeted students in engineering, information technology and education, among others. There was still just over $1 billion left to be allocated towards the bursary program at the time of termination.

Quebec to increase minimum wage on May 1

The Quebec minimum wage will increase from $15.75 to $16.10 on May 1, Labour Minister Jean Boulet announced on Jan. 30. It represents an increase of over 2 per cent which will benefit over 200,000 workers. Quebec’s minimum wage has increased by $4.10 since 2019.

Concordia introduces a new minor

Concordia University is now o ering a new minor in Black and African Diaspora Studies in the Canadian Context. According to the Concordia website, the program will use an interdisciplinary approach to introduce students to “the historical and contemporary Black presence in Canada.”

City of Montreal drops Amazon as supplier

On Feb. 6, Montreal Mayor Valerie Plante announced that the City of Montreal would be dropping Amazon as a supplier. Plante said the decision comes as a result of tari threats from US President Donald Trump. Quebec Perspective bursary program to be cut

ON JAN. 29, 885 STUDENTS VOTED IN FAVOUR OF BDS MOTIONS AT THE CSU SGM. PHOTO ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS

Centre for Gender Advocacy launches new community fridge

The program aims to provide a non-judgmental, safe space for food

Justine Beaussier

The Centre for Gender Advocacy at Concordia University is now helping students with groceries through their new Warm Hearts Community Fridge.

“Usually, people would come in for gender-a rming gear and they would also ask for help with groceries,” said Mischa Shadloo, programming coordinator at the centre.

Since Jan. 16, the Warm Hearts Fridge has started o ering students the chance to access free food at the centre. Shadloo and Madeleine McLarney, the centre’s outreach coordinator, are in charge of this initiative.

To ll the fridge, the two coordinators are either ordering delivery groceries or going in person to food distribution centres.

Mak Ékoué, outreach intern at the Concordia Food Coalition, said they’ve seen firsthand how it is getting harder for many students to afford groceries. The coalition, while not directly involved with the Warm Hearts Fridge, supports the initiative and works towards increasing food safety for students.

“More and more people are facing food insecurity and are looking for alternative ways to shop and feed themselves,” Ékoué said, adding that they’ve noticed an increase in student involvement in community food-related initiatives.

McLarney also noticed the same increase in interest, saying that recent centre events involving food were some of its most popular.

“I want people to know that they have a non-judgmental, safe space

where they can get food,” McLarney said.

Shadloo described the food they provide as “normal groceries.” Community members can nd items like orange juice or deli meat, but there are also readymade dishes like burritos.

To better understand the needs of those who use the service, the coordinators said they try to be present during access hours. Since the program is still in its early days, they said they are still adjusting the stocks daily. Shadloo and McLarney hope to have a more consistent delivery set in the next few weeks as students and community members begin using the fridge more frequently.

To keep track of the food, people who use the service are asked to leave a mark on the fridge’s door to

show that an item has been taken.

Shadloo emphasized the importance of remembering that the community fridge works on the principles of sharing.

e fridge is funded by the centre’s fee-levy as well as community donations. However, according to McLarney, it can be di cult to keep the fridge lled with a variety of foods.

“I want to give people access to real food, not just canned tuna or pasta,” McLarney said. “I would like to be able to put more fruits and vegetables, but it’s more expensive.”

Students can access the fridge at 2110 Mackay St. during the centre’s opening hours, Tuesday to ursday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.

Food Against Fascism intertwines community

support and political resistance

Free meals and anti-fascist literature are distributed to the Verdun community weekly

Cordelia Appleyard @ju.st1ne

Every Saturday, a team of volunteers hand out free meals and anti-fascist zines to passers-by on the corner of Galt St. and Wellington St. in Verdun.

Bou e contre le fascisme, or Food Against Fascism (FAF), distributes vegetarian food, co ee and le -leaning publications to the community.

e initiative frames its e orts as solidarity against the far right, promoting hands-on community aid as a form of political resistance and an alternative to province-funded support that is shrinking under budget cuts.

FAF operates on a shoestring

budget of $70 a week, funded by both Concordia University’s and McGill University's Quebec Public Interest Research Groups and solidarity service donations. Volunteers stretch these funds to provide hot vegetarian meals, drinks and essential supplies such as feminine hygiene products, hats and gloves to those in need. e items primarily go to unhoused individuals and those struggling to make rent, but are available to anyone in the Verdun community.

“Everyone needs food. Everyone needs anti-fascism,” volunteer Will

Lever said, echoing the group’s mission that mutual aid and activism go hand in hand.

e table o ering free meals is set up next to an array of anti-fascist lea ets with titles like “Anti-Fascist Self-Defence,” “Strategizing to Stop Mass Deportation” and “Anarchism and Revolution in Black Africa.”

FAF started in 2017 as an extension of Concordia’s e People's Potato, a student-funded vegan soup kitchen. While FAF used to serve up to 300 people a week, it had to downsize as costs rose and the pandemic strained

resources. Volunteers now transport food to the Verdun intersection using a shopping cart and wagon.

“Preparing the meals is a limiting factor and a test of skill to see what you can get out of a small budget,” said Scott, a professional cook and new volunteer who has been granted full-name anonymity for safety reasons.

Being part of this community of volunteers has allowed Scott to meet others who are helping the unhoused in Montreal.

"Now more than ever, this is important,” Scott added, referring to the Quebec government's recent cuts to shelter funding. " e poorest and most vulnerable are losing the few resources they had."

One volunteer spoke of the team’s dedication to assemble this initiative weekly.

“ e only times we don’t [serve regularly] is when it's like -45 C, because the co ee and the food will freeze so fast,” said volunteer Sarah, who has been granted full-name anonymity for safety reasons.

On those days, the team walks around the neighbourhood to check

on their regulars who live on the street, bringing food to them directly.

“We see ourselves as practicing 'so anti-fascism,’” Sarah said. “For us, that means direct support—providing food, clothing and care to those le behind by the system. We also stand against gentri cation in Verdun, which is pushing out low-income residents in a neighbourhood for the working class.”

e weekly gatherings attract a mix of low-income residents, activists and passersby, with demand increasing in colder months.

Lever explained that there is a great sense of connection with the community for volunteers and regulars alike.

“[It] encourages a space for people to come by and have a little chat,” Lever said. “ ere's a lot of people who just genuinely appreciate the e ort that we’re doing.”

Lever hopes the project will continue inde nitely, “or until the revolution.”

“Until capitalism and the need for people to be on the street ends, there's going to be a need for food,” Lever said. “Until some sort of political change can solve that, we will be out here doing free food every week.”

e rise of Montreal’s Jewish Le

Exploring the role of anti-Zionist Jewish activists in the current global political climate

Hannah Scott-Talib

Growing up, Zev Saltiel experienced two vastly different perspectives of Judaism.

On his father’s side, his relatives are of Ashkenazi Jewish descent. Saltiel had always known this side of his family to be outwardly Jewish in their practices and proud of their Jewish identity. Many of them, he says, were also Zionists.

His mother, however, was of Sephardic Jewish descent, with her mother being a Holocaust survivor. In the 1940s, at the height of World War II, this side of Saltiel’s family had been living in Salonika (modern-day essaloniki), Greece. During the Holocaust, over 40,000 of the approximate 43,000 Jewish residents of Salonika were killed— around 90 per cent of Greece’s entire Jewish population.

“For my grandmother, she was the literal sole survivor of her whole entire family,” Saltiel said.

As a result of this deep-rooted history, growing up, Saltiel recalls a much different experience on his mother’s side when it came to practicing Judaism.

“My grandparents had been very clear that they were afraid that we would be persecuted again, and therefore we didn’t learn any of our languages, we didn’t practice Judaism in any way that was [obvious],” Saltiel said.

Now, as an anti-Zionist Jewish activist, Saltiel is a member of Montreal’s chapter of Independent Jewish Voices (IJV). IJV is a grassroots organization grounded in Jewish tradition that opposes all forms of racism and advocates for justice and peace for all in Israel-Palestine, according to its website. And in the context of the ongoing genocide in Palestine, Saltiel says that being a member of IJV has been, in some

@hannah.sctt

ways, a form of saving grace for him.

“It can be quite di cult to see people who share a cultural background or heritage with you to be so aggressively defending an active genocide,” Saltiel said. “And so being able to nd each other and show up together and have these conversations, for many of us, has been very, very helpful in holding onto our Jewish culture.”

Yet, it is not only organizations like IJV that reject the principles of Zionism. In particular, Montreal’s Hasidic Jewish community has been active in their condemnation of the state of Israel since Oct. 7, 2023.

“It’s important to recognize that a lot of these groups are anti-Zionist from a religious perspective, and by the ways in which they interpret the Torah, which dictates that Jewish people should not be in that land unless we are invited back by the Messiah,” Saltiel said.

He added that settling in the modern state of Israel goes against scriptural followings.

“It’s [also] about the violence part, where Jewish people also should not be acting in this manner with such violence—that also goes very strongly against Jewish values,” Saltiel said.

Jordan Molot, a fourth-year PhD student at Concordia University’s Religions and Cultures department, says that Jewish communities with anti-Zionist beliefs are not a recent emergence.

“ ere’s always been a stream of anti-Zionist Jewish thought, or at least non-Zionist-thinking,” Molot said.

While Molot’s dissertation specifically explores the transnational links of 18th-century Jewish settlers in Canada, he added that he has a particular research interest in the development

of Jewish politics in the 20th century.

“We can trace back an anti-Zionism genealogy that goes back to the emergence of Zionism itself as a political idea,” Molot said. “Contrary to popular belief, the popularity of Zionism was not immediate and it wasn’t all-encompassing.”

e Jewish Labour Bund (JLB) was a key movement that opposed Zionism in its early stages in the late 19th century, according to IJV Concordia member Myriam Reed, who has been granted a pseudonym for safety reasons.

“[ e JLB promoted] this idea of ‘Wherever we are, is our home,’ pushing against this nationalist, settler-colonial ideology that Zionism became,” Reed said. “We are a part of any society, we are here, you can’t push us out.”

It wouldn’t be until the late 1960s that Zionism became truly popularized in association with the Jewish identity, according to Molot.

“Following the Six-Day War in 1967, Zionism becomes ‘the mode’ of Jewish self-understanding and Jewish self-identity,” Molot said. “But beforehand, it was very much up in the air.”

According to Molot, the classical secular Zionist narrative of what is o en called “the Jewish story” performs a double reading of scriptural myths and historical accounts of Jewish migrations from the time of the Babylonian and Roman expulsions into the present.

“The most central historical slippage in these readings is its application of the nation-state model into ancient history, wherein the ancient Kingdom of Israel and Judea is seen as congruent to the contemporary nation-state,” Molot added.

And yet, in Molot’s experience, he said he nds that Zionism, for many

modern Zionist Jewish people, is less of a material concept and more of an emotional one. He recalls a question a professor asked at an Introduction to Judaism course at Concordia a few years ago, a course in which Molot was the teaching assistant.

e students were asked “What does Zionism mean?” and the answers, Molot says, were remarkable.

“ ey were saying things like: ‘Zionism is about feeling safe when you walk down the street. It’s about self-determination. It’s about sovereignty. It’s about making sure that Jews are never put in the position of the Holocaust ever again,’” Molot said. “I was so struck that every single example that they gave was all about Zionism as a kind of ideal. It’s an ideation; they see Zionism as the ideological project.”

In this way, Molot says that Zionists and pro-Palestine activists are o en “practically speaking separate languages” when it comes to their de nitions of Zionism.

For Zionists, according to Molot, Zionism is primarily an appeal to emotion. On the other hand, he said that the Palestinian liberation movement is backed by the notion of Zionism as a very real and material concept. He added that, in regard to the ongoing actions of the Israeli government, Zionism represents a military project and a repressive regime.

“I think the state of Israel is seen as this redemptive project [to Zionists], but what pro-Palestine activists are getting at in their critiques of Zionism is not necessarily that Jews don’t have a right to safety,” Molot said.

“What they’re really getting at is the construction of an inherently violent regime; it’s a project that crushes bones and puts bullets in babies’ heads.”

While groups such as IJV have greatly helped Jewish pro-Palestine activists such as Saltiel to nd a sense of community among other anti-Zionist Jewish activists, a majority of Jewish people in Canada still identify with Zionism and the state of Israel.

According to a 2024 New Israel Fund study, 84 per cent of Canada’s Jewish population say they are “very” or “somewhat” emotionally attached to Israel. e study also found that 51 per cent of Canada’s Jewish population consider themselves Zionists.

“At the same time that the Jewish Le movement is gaining traction, it’s still a minority in Montreal, and especially in Canada,” Molot said.

Looking ahead, Saltiel says that IJV has no plans to stop its activism for Palestine simply due to the ceasefire agreement that was recently put in place.

“We are not slowing down simply because there has been some version of a cease re,” Saltiel said. “We believe it needs to go far beyond this, including an actual liberation of Palestine.”

For activists like Reed, the return to promoting ideologies stemming from deep-rooted Jewish movements such as the JLB provides a framework for the future of anti-Zionist Jewish activists.

“It’s a really important and amazing reclamation that has been happening for a long time, but especially, I think generations now are more interested in their own heritage,” Reed said. “ ere’s been this resurgence in understanding this [lesser known] history.”

ON NOV. 21, 2024, PROTESTERS GATHERED OUTSIDE CONCORDIA'S HALL BUILDING IN SUPPORT OF PALESTINE. PHOTO ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS

e trials and tribulations of Montreal’s secondhand clothing sellers

High shipping fees and a suffering economy offset sellers’ sustainability goals

When Barbara Mount moved to Montreal from Ottawa last year, she could not nd a job.

Being unable to speak French only made her job search more di cult. In need of an income, she decided to create her own job and turned to selling used clothes on Facebook Marketplace. Her boyfriend’s mother helped by donating old clothes and asking her friends to do the same.

What Mount didn’t expect was how quickly her last-resort business venture would take o , which now dons the name Barb’s Finds.

Selling secondhand clothing is Mount's passion, as it is the “perfect match between sustainability and fashion.”

Launching Barb’s Finds allowed Mount to pursue her love for fashion through a sustainability lens. Now, Mount sources the clothing she sells from Facebook Marketplace, thri stores and a secret store that she vows to “never tell anybody about.”

A month a er launching Barb’s Finds, Mount, wearing a turquoise blazer and an e ervescent smile, opened a booth with her boyfriend at Rosemont’s Mega Pop-Up Vintage and Self-Care event. e event, recently re-branded as Turquoise’s Treasures’ Pop-Ups, is held monthly at St. Jean Berchmans Catholic Church. It features a barrage of eclectic vendors and small businesses.

Despite the harsh, shiny linoleum oors and hospital-style lighting in the church, shoppers frequent the event, looking for that musthave, one-of-a-kind vintage piece.

Sellers like Mount are tangible evidence of younger generations’ tendency toward sustainability in the wake of the increasingly precarious climate crisis. According to trend forecasting company WGSN, the secondhand clothing market is projected to grow dramatically, with Gen Z being the driving force behind the movement.

However, the reality of secondhand selling in Montreal is a contrast to the success stories seen on social media, especially from American secondhand sellers. Canadian sellers struggle with high shipping rates and a limited customer base amidst an economy where “the threat of wide-ranging tari s by the new US administration has increased un-

certainty,” according to the Bank of Canada. Even sustainability as an essential component of the secondhand market is called into question by disillusioned sellers.

In her last year at McGill University, and wanting to make money before she graduates, Chloe Chan Lam thought she could start casually selling the clothes she’s accumulated through the years. Her friends were using the reselling platform Depop to clean out their closets, making it the obvious choice for Chan Lam to list her items. She started her Depop shop almost a year ago, selling items like a cream Canada Goose coat and a Liz Lisa black and white-trimmed skort.

Even though Chan Lam made the occasional sale, she would “probably lose money” if she ran the shop long-term.

For example, a lightweight T-shirt, which would t into an extra-small Canada Post at rate box, costs $18 to ship. Flat rate shipping goes up to $32.99 for an extra-large box, and can only weigh up to 5 kg to be shipped. Given that consumers can order items from retailers like Amazon without paying for shipping, Canada Post shipping fees are a crushing reality for online secondhand businesses in Canada.

Camelia Gonzalez, another secondhand clothing seller based in Montreal, initially found success through selling big-ticket items. As a teenager, her parents would take her to New York City, where she would scour secondhand shops to nd designer pieces at more a ordable prices.

A er amassing unique designer pieces over the years, Gonzalez combined her passions for business and fashion to make extra money, opening a Depop shop. Her very rst sale on the platform was a pair of limited edition Nike shoes that she made $200 from. However, Gonzalez has recently noticed that “people have less money to spend,” which has been impacting her business.

Two years ago, Gonzalez bought a highly sought-a er Dior bag for $4,000 and sold it for $7,000 within one week of listing it. However, she listed the same bag for the same price this year, and it took months

to sell. Before she eventually sold it on Depop, she took it to a vintage luxury consignment store in Montreal as a last-ditch e ort to try to get rid of the bag. ey o ered her about half of what she paid for it.

Gonzalez said the owner told her, “‘It's the Montreal market. People will not pay that much for a bag.’”

According to Statistics Canada, retail sales have increased since 2020. However, the consumer price index, which can be interpreted as a measure of in ation, has also gone up since 2020, an indication that consumers are choosing how and where they spend their money more carefully.

Depop, however, allows Gonzalez to reach a wider audience, which she uses to her advantage, as many of her buyers are international. While she does sell small-ticket items to Quebecers and Canadians, her big-ticket items are generally purchased by international buyers.

e issue of sustainable business practices, a driver behind many secondhand clothing businesses, is thrown into question when shipping comes into play.

While Canada Post touts carbon-neutral shipping, it’s not because they are producing less carbon dioxide emissions than before. Rather, according to the Canada Post website, they are “removing one tonne from the atmosphere through the purchase of high-quality, accredited carbon o sets.”

“It’s easy to portray that [as a] really sustainable option,” Gonzalez said. “It’s still gonna pollute.”

Additionally, due to packaging waste, Gonzalez found it di cult to run her Depop shop sustainably. Chan Lam came to a similar realization regarding her secondhand business on Depop.

Mount, however, believes “the mall is evil,” and wants more people to shop secondhand rather than at retail destinations like Royalmount, the rst luxury mall in Montreal.

Sustainability is also important to secondhand clothing businesses like Gabrielle Mountenay’s, another seller at Turquoise’s Treasures’ Pop-Up event in Rosemont.

During the pandemic, Mountenay started playing around with her wardrobe and taking photographs. What was born from her COVID-19

shenanigans was Duchess ri s, a collection of curated vintage pieces that re ected her personal style.

Unlike other secondhand sellers, Mountenay focuses on selling in person to “keep things in the community.” For her, this also means sourcing high-quality goods made in Canada.

ough sticking to an in-person business model can limit audience reach, it helps Mountenay avoid the environmental harm that is associated with shipping.

“Shipping sometimes doesn’t

really make sense to me,” she said.

While some Montreal secondhand clothing sellers have found a way to make things work, the odds of nding success for online sellers are di cult to overcome for many. Still, sellers like Mount urge consumers to move toward secondhand consumption.

“ ere are so many clothes on this Earth already. Don’t go buy new ones. People have much cooler stu just waiting for you at their houses, at pop-ups or on Facebook Marketplace,” Mount said.

MOUNT POSES AT HER BOOTH DURING THE OCTOBER EDITION OF ROSEMONT’S MEGA POP-UP VINTAGE AND SELF-CARE EVENT. PHOTO CHLOE SIOHAN

Chloe Siohan

Arm Candy

@india.db

Mister says Come sugar, Heaven is just up a couple more steps…

Up a couple more steps

Is a white- oored room, A dozen well-dressed men

Amid jars of purple gummies, Plates of chocolate owers And bowls of women

Lounging with wide red smiles, Glorious, black, sparkling eyes And Lady Diors held like shields

Join us, says a man, White-smiled

Moroccan

And deaf in one ear

e men meet, Shake hands, Compare penises under the table

Sugar watches e women e men

And God e candy e esh

And the omniscient narrator

Join us, says the man

“Nice to meet you,” says Sugar, Clutches her powder pink Dior Takes her Mister’s arm And steps into the bowl…

Divination through interviews and pennies

OBORO

art centre’s double opening features two artists as they explore divination and future prediction

Atrail

of attened pennies winds midair through the OBORO gallery space with a shadow of enamelled steel underneath.

In the next gallery space, an immersive video installation features interviews of people asked to predict the future.

On Jan. 25, OBORO, an artsrun centre dedicated to visual media and digital arts, featured the double opening of artists Yen-Chao Lin and Andrée-Anne Roussel.

“Even though the two exhibitions are quite di erent in terms of form—one being closer to visual arts, the other closer to digital arts—they share an interest in the subjects of divination, forecasting and the possibilities that looking toward the future can open up,” said Tamar Tembeck, OBORO’s artistic director.

Speculative Creatures

“I was interested in collecting all the possible ways to think about predicting the future,” Roussel said. “ e spiritual side, but also the scienti c and thenancial side.”

Roussel is a lmmaker and new media artist. She developed her audiovisual installation, Speculative Creatures, in Manhattan during a residency at the Québec Studio in New York. e artist asked 25 people of varying backgrounds, including nancial

experts, futurists, AI specialists, psychics and clairvoyants, to predict the future.

When walking into the exhibition, their voices echo throughout the room, accompanied by visual projects that illustrate their predictions, such as nancial maps and tarot cards.

What makes the series of interviews unique is the way they follow each other. Unlike a traditional lm, Roussel didn’t edit the interviews together. She used an algorithm based on Markov chains, a modelling tool that predicts a system's state in the future.

is produced a generative narrative structure that constantly changes the audio and visual sequences with each projection.

“In that way, I feel like I'm not saying that this way of thinking versus this other way of thinking—like science or spirituality—is better than the other,” Roussel explained. “ e experience I was trying to create is the idea of being in the space and hearing a lot of di erent thoughts on the same subject, that sometimes are really similar.”

Summoning

Yen-Chao Lin is a Taipei-born, Montreal-based multidisciplinary artist. Her practice is tactile, mixing techniques such as copper enamelling, metal smithing, glass and ceramics to create installa-

tions, sculptures and experimental lms. Her work o en revolves around religion, spiritual practices, divination arts and sciences.

Her current exhibit, Summoning, showcases ve years of her work. e central piece in the exhibit, “As Above So Below,” is a sculptural installation made from thousands of attened Canadian pennies suspended in midair.

e artist spent ve months placing thousands of pennies on train tracks and collecting them the following day. A er collecting the pennies, she riveted them together into the nal sculpture. e process was incredibly time-consuming: it took Lin four hours to complete just 24 inches.

Lin’s inspiration came from water witching and mining. She explained that she’s interested in what’s visible and invisible; what’s above and what’s underground. Water witching, also known as dowsing, is the pseudo-scientific practice of using a tool to nd underground water using a forked stick, rod or pendulum.

“Water dowsing is not just for water. It's also used by oil companies to locate oil deposits,” Lin said. “During the Vietnam war, the navy was actively screening people with dowsing abilities to try to locate the Viet Cong tunnels because they were not visible to satellite viewing.”

Lin moved to Canada in 1997,

where her rst home was next to the train tracks. e train would come every day and she would put pennies on the track.

Despite the memory of attening pennies being joyful, Lin further explained that the railroad is the colonial emblem of Canada.

“It provided the government at the time the legal framework to privatize Indigenous land through the Indian Act,” Lin said. “You can also think about the [Canadian Paci c Railway] and how it was actually built by Chinese labour.”

She explained that “as above,

so below” also refers to things that are hidden, such as the history of mining or the mined materials themselves. Even the work she does to complete the installation requires a lot of invisible labour.

“ ere is a lot of history within the construction of the railroad and the railroad itself,” Lin said, “but then again, putting pennies on the tracks is a childhood game. It brings out a lot of childhood memories for a lot of people. So there's opposition.”

Both exhibitions will be on display until March 22.

GRAPHIC MYRIAM OUAZZANI | @MYMYSARTGALLERY

THOUSANDS OF FLATTENED PENNIES SUSPEND MIDAIR IN YEN-CHAO LIN'S WORK "AS ABOVE SO BELOW."

PHOTO OLIVIA JOHNSON

Olivia Johnson India Das-Brown

@24601ivia

Jordyn Verbeek: Team rst

Take a closer look at the back of Jordyn Verbeek’s goalie mask, and you'll nd a simple, two-word message, written in Stinger burgundy and gold: “Team rst.”

For some, this message could come o as cliché. A er all, the mantra “team rst” lies at the core of the Concordia University women’s hockey team’s philosophy. Yet, Jordyn Verbeek encompasses this idea unlike anyone else.

To witness Verbeek in action is to watch a warrior push herself to the limit in the name of her team’s success. To talk to her in person is to understand someone who does so unsel shly, entirely committed to the teamwork crucial to success in collegiate sports. While “team rst” resembles an overarching idea of camaraderie to many, Verbeek lives that idea every day.

Just ask her coach.

For Stingers head coach Julie Chu, Verbeek’s contribution to Concordia’s culture can’t be understated.

“Regardless of what happens, she puts her best foot forward every single day,” Chu said. “We say we want to live our culture, but she truly does it every way possible.”

Arriving at Concordia

Growing up in Langley, B.C., Verbeek tried every sport before narrowing her focus down to two choices: hockey or cheerleading. In uenced further by her father Richard Verbeek and brother Tyler Verbeek—both hockey players themselves—Verbeek committed to a future on the ice.

“I had to make my decision, and I went with hockey,” Verbeek said. “I just loved it from the moment I stepped into the net.”

Spurred by the realization of a possible future in hockey, Verbeek doubled down on her hockey journey.

“I joined travel teams, I played on my provincial team, I did all that,” Verbeek said. “I was serious from a young age.”

Verbeek’s provincial journey led her to the Greater Vancouver Comets of the British Columbia Elite Hockey League. In her nal season, she posted a 1.33 goals-against average along with ve shutouts for a record of 141-1. Her stellar nish presented another decision: where to attend university. at’s when head coach Chu entered the picture.

Chu liked what she saw. Verbeek had talent, but just as importantly, her character stood out. Chu praised Verbeek’s courage as well as

her willingness to connect with the team’s philosophy.

“She's the perfect t of personality, being adventurous enough to move across the country to a province that is bilingual,” Chu said. “We saw, obviously, there was a good goaltender, but when we got a chance to have her on a visit, we knew that her character was really high, and she bought into our program.”

Verbeek arrived on campus ready to work and developed steadily as a player and teammate. It helped to have Alice Philbert, Concordia’s fourth-year starter, to learn from and grow alongside.

“Alice worked super hard and was committed to her goals, and she brought us along on that journey,” Verbeek said. “I tried to take what I learned from her and apply it in my own ways.”

Despite limited playing time in her rst two seasons, Verbeek’s dedication made an impression. To illustrate, Chu described the a ermath of an injury Verbeek su ered in her very rst team practice.

“[Jordyn] was still able to skate, but she couldn't take shots,” Chu said. “ en next practice, she's out there in a corner, conditioning herself. She could have said, ‘I don't know if I can do this.’ But she did the opposite. She goes, ‘What can I do? Work hard and push myself.’”

Even as Verbeek matured into a starter, she never lost her positive attitude and work ethic. She emphasized her focus on her own decisions as the key to her mentality.

“I have to control what I can control,” Verbeek explained. “Showing up, having a good attitude, working hard—that's all you can do, especially if you don't have the choice on what the coaches decide.”

Chu pointed to Verbeek’s supportive demeanour as a catalyst for the Stingers locker room.

“Our culture is driven by our players. Having someone like Jordyn who is a glue person, who has the ability to be around people and check in on them, that de nitely helps our environment,” Chu said.

But Verbeek relies on her team just as much as they rely on her. e culture that drew her to Concordia in the rst place hasn’t dissipated.

“We're comfortable being who we are on this team,” Verbeek said. “We're really a family, and if I'm ever struggling, I know 25 people who have my back. at helps me navigate through the hard times in university. So I think it's really special what we have.”

And Verbeek’s journey hasn’t ended yet. She’s still handing down her lessons, just as she learned her own.

A culture and legacy le behind

When Arianne Leblanc stepped onto campus at Concordia, she immediately felt the support from Verbeek. e second-year netminder has witnessed Verbeek’s team-centred mentality rsthand.

“[Verbeek] has always been really kind from the start, so she allowed me to feel welcome in the team when I rst came,” Leblanc said. “Our relationship has grown into a great friendship since.”

Chu pointed out the bond between Verbeek and Leblanc, as well as rst-year Addison Cochrane, who rounds out the Stingers’ goalie trio.

“One of Jordyn’s great assets is that she has the ability to be with di erent people and make them feel at ease,” Chu said. “Jordyn was able to do that for Arianne, and the same when Addie [Cochrane] came in this year. ose goaltenders get a chance to feel welcomed, and they can watch how hard she works and how open she is to feedback.”

Leblanc appreciates Verbeek’s ability to recognize the team’s needs and support them accordingly.

“No matter the situation, she's always going to nd a way to cheer the team up,” Leblanc said. “We don't lose o en but if it's a loss she always tries to bring jokes a er the game to cheer everyone up. Even on the bench we always hear her so she's a great person and teammate.”

Verbeek also does her part to will her team to victory.

On Feb. 2, Concordia hosted the Université de Montréal Carabins. Two days before, the Carabins handed the Stingers their rst season loss. Both teams eagerly wanted to prove themselves.

Verbeek played superbly, ying across the net to throw her pads into harm’s way. In double overtime, Concordia captain Caroline Moquin-Joubert broke the deadlock to walk o the victory. As the Stingers rushed the ice, Verbeek was one of the rst to meet her teammates, vanishing in a sea of burgundy.

Young skaters poured onto the ice a er the game, itching for a chance to meet their idols. Some Concordia players clustered together, avoiding interaction.

Not Verbeek.

She knelt to talk to fans eye-toeye, signing jerseys, helmets and

The Stingers goaltender passes on the lessons she’s learned

sticks. When a young fan o ered her

hand, Verbeek took her for a spin around the ice. And when the Stingers posed for a picture with a

JORDYN VERBEEK HAS A .948 SAVE PERCENTAGE IN EIGHT GAMES WITH THE STINGERS THIS SEASON. PHOTO NICOLAS TREMBLAY

visiting peewee hockey team, there was Verbeek, a smile plastered across her face. In her element. Team rst. In its purest form.

Samuel Kayll @sdubk24

Passing the torch: Stingers ll soccer vacancies from within

Kouyabe Ignegongba and Wilfried Monthe named new Stingers men’s and women’s coaches

The Concordia University Stingers soccer teams have their new head coaches.

Wilfried Monthe has been named the head coach of the women’s soccer team, and Kouyabe Ignegongba has been named head coach of the men’s team. Monthe and Ignegongba were originally assistant coaches for the women’s and men’s programs, respectively.

“Both these guys have been under my wing for some time now,” said Concordia director of soccer Greg Sutton, who was responsible for recruiting both coaches to the program. “We have a good relationship, a good trust, and I think we’re on the same wavelength of our ideas of the game and how we treat our student-athletes.”

Monthe’s passion for soccer has taken him to various continents. He was born in Cameroon but moved to France to pursue soccer. He played for FC Metz, a French football club, before bouncing around various

North American teams in places like Colorado and Ohio in the US and Quebec’s Trois-Rivières. He would eventually stop playing due to a concussion and moved back to Montreal to pursue a coaching career.

Along with practical experience, Monthe draws on traditional education as a coach as well. He studied at Cégep du Vieux Montréal, the University of Maine and Stanford University in California.

“I studied in the psychological eld, so that really helps me get the most out of my players,” Monthe said. “I’m more focused on communication [...] it makes it easier for me to connect with the players and understand their needs.”

A er six years as an assistant coach, Monthe o cially became the head coach of the women’s team in early October 2024. He was o ered the title at the beginning of the season but had prior engagements. Up until recently, he was the head coach

of John Abbott College’s women's soccer team and had promised to see the season out before taking on his new role.

“I felt like the timing was good too, for me to step up, because we [had] a good season [at] Abbott,” Monthe said. “ ey’re gonna get back to Division 1 next year, and I felt like I did what I had to do.”

Ignegongba too has had his fair share of travel. Born in N’Djamena, Chad, Ignegongba would also eventually travel to North America for soccer. He started as a player for Bunker Hill Community College in Boston, before moving to Montreal and enrolling at Concordia. He spent ve years playing for the Stingers while studying biology. He eventually joined Sutton’s sta and spent seven years as an assistant coach.

Ignegongba believes the step to the program's success is to create a friendly and upli ing environment for student-athletes.

“ e idea is really for the players to feel at home, to develop an identity, to also feel like part of the program, and to feel like Stingers,” Ignegongba said. Right now, the new coaches are making good use of their training season, and have noted that their players are in a winning mindset. Both the men’s and women’s teams

e PWHL Takeover Tour is thriving

The league has hosted four neutral-site games this season

In its inaugural season, the Professional Women’s Hockey League (PWHL) hosted numerous neutral-site games to scope out which cities could be t to earn a franchise.

In its second season, the league has continued testing more cities that could accommodate a franchise through the Takeover Tour.

So far this season, four cities have hosted neutral-site games.

e rst game of the tour, held on Jan. 5 at Seattle’s Climate Pledge Arena, home of the Seattle Kraken, was a hit. With over 12,000 people in attendance, it was the largest crowd of

the 2024-2025 season at the time.

Seattle could be an attractive hockey market for the league for expansion, as it is a relatively new market which had early success in the NHL.

A er a successful inaugural season, expectations were high for the league coming into their sophomore year, and these expectations have most de nitely been met. e PWHL Takeover Tour has yielded great attendance results through four games played, further cementing the league as a major one in North America.

Vancouver hosted the second game of the tour and made a strong

case for receiving a franchise, surpassing its listed capacity of 18,910. e Vancouver Canucks, like most Canadian teams in the NHL, have consistently had great attendance numbers. If the city were to obtain a PWHL franchise, it would likely have great success, however, the league may be hesitant to add a Canadian team, since half of its teams are already located in Canada. In order to further expand the league’s outreach, expansion to the United States might be the best route to follow.

On Jan. 12, Denver’s Ball Arena, home of the Colorado Avalanche,

hosted the third game of the Takeover Tour, and it did not disappoint.

e 14,018 fans made up the highest attendance of any women’s professional hockey game in the United States, topping the previous record of 13,500 set in Detroit last year.

Those three games were notably hosted on the West Coast, which shows fans that while all the current PWHL franchises are out east, the league is open to expansion on the West.

By expanding to the West Coast, the league could grow exponentially.

Numerous western NHL teams have had great attendance the past few years within the area. Most notably, the Edmonton Oilers, Vancouver Canucks and Dallas Stars were all in the top 10 for attendance in 2023-2024. ere is also a great marketing opportunity on the West Coast, as the NHL has numerous teams with large sponsors. Adding a team or two in the West would enhance the league’s notoriety and chances of landing substantial brand deals.

Additionally, a market for women’s sports on the West Coast has already been proven. The Women’s National Basketball Association (WNBA) has had great success in the West, with three of the five teams with the best attendance in 2024 being from the region. By adding

nished with win percentages below .500 in the 2024 season. Despite this, Ignegongba is optimistic about the future of Stingers soccer.

“You have to lose a couple of times to learn how to win,” Ignegongba said. “Every great sports team that’s managed to achieve success, it’s through consistency.”

a Western team to the mix, the PWHL could attract fans of the WNBA who wish to support the growth of women’s sports in North America.

The fourth game of the Takeover Tour took place on Jan. 19 in Quebec City, with the Montreal Victoire narrowly defeating the Ottawa Charge by a score of 2-1 in front of a sold-out Videotron Centre. 18,259 fans filled the stands, making a statement about why the city deserves a franchise. Losing the Quebec Nordiques to Colorado in 1995, the city has been eager to bring hockey back to the provincial capital, and a strong turnout on Sunday increased their likelihood of earning a franchise.

The PWHL had a fantastic inaugural season in 2024, and announced in October its intention to expand up to two teams for the 2025-2026 season. With the early success of the Takeover Tour, the league has several cities that have made a strong case for earning a team. e league’s ability to sell out NHL arenas proves doubters of women’s hockey wrong. It is further proof that women’s hockey is here to stay and will grow exponentially. As the league expands, its popularity surely will, too.

Five games of the Takeover Tour remain. The first game will take place in Edmonton on Feb. 16 between the Toronto Sceptres and Ottawa Charge.

@louispaill

Louis Paillier

THE STINGERS HAVE FOUND THEIR NEW HEAD SOCCER COACHES. PHOTO CAROLINE MARSH

e road back: Sami Jahan recovered from knee injury

The Stingers basketball star back in practice after ACL tear

Dusty Goldberg @dusty71goldberg

Getting injured as an athlete can be devastating.

e physical pain and varying degrees of psychological anguish has proven tough enough to topple careers. e uncertainty of their healing process and not knowing whether they will be able to play to their full potential post-injury tends to trigger distressing thoughts. is is the uphill battle that Stingers men’s basketball star Sami Jahan has been ghting for the last 12 months.

Jahan spent the last 10 years building his life around the game of basketball. Growing up in Hamilton, Ont., his parents enrolled him in several di erent sports. He particularly enjoyed basketball, and at age 12, decided to pursue it exclusively. He played throughout highschool, eventually graduating from

to do post-secondary studies and play ball at a collegiate or university level. It was at this time that he decided to move 600 kilometers away from home, get his own apartment and enroll in economics at Concordia University.

Jahan remembers exactly when and how he’d gotten hurt: Feb. 17, 2024, in the second quarter of a game against McGill. He drove for a layup, but the lane closed and was no longer a viable scoring attempt. He looked for a passing opportunity, but when he stepped back, he felt a pain in his knee. e pain wasn’t excruciating, but he had trouble putting weight on his leg, so coaches sent him home and told him to rest.

“It was like a fever dream,” Jahan said. “I was having a great game, I had like 15 points in the rst quarter [...] the best quarter I’ve ever had

a conclusion. A couple of days later, walking on crutches and accompanied by his father, Jahan got MRI scans.

A er a few days of optimistically waiting for the results, Jahan was dealt a crushing blow: he had torn his ACL, a ligament in the knee that takes nine months to a year to heal. is meant that Jahan’s season was over, and that he would miss most of next season as well.

“It was de nitely a blow to our spirit,” Aleks Mitrovic, lead assistant coach, said. “But more so than losing him as a member of our team, we were just heartbroken for him to have to go through that.”

“It didn’t feel real,” Jahan said. “My whole life is…mostly basketball, and I never had a major injury. In my whole life I’ve never been out for more than 2 games in a row.”

the Toronto Basketball Academy.

By the time Jahan finished highschool, he knew he wanted to play basketball professionally. He dreams of getting his German citizenship and playing in the EuroLeague. Before getting there, Jahan knew he would need

in basketball. [ en the] next moment I’m just sitting on the couch.”

e next day, he went to see Concordia’s rugby team doctor at the Stinger Dome. Athletic therapists performed tests on him to assess the damage, but they couldn’t come to

It took him a long time to fully process what happened. But while part of him had trouble accepting his new reality, another part of him took initiative. Wasting no time, he asked the medical professionals accompanying him what the next move was. A week

later he was in the hospital, having his knee surgically repaired. Any minor bump or pressure on his leg a er that was excruciatingly painful. What lied ahead was months of physical therapy, just to relearn basic motion, followed by even more months of exercises to get back his strength.

“Sami’s one of the hardest working players I’ve ever worked with,” said Leon Ortizo, a player development coach for Concordia Stingers basketball. Ortizo is also a good personal friend of Jahan’s, and they have been training together since long before his injury. “[He did] all the little things to speed up his recovery, eventually, those little things stack up.”

However, for him, the physical pain wasn’t even the hardest part.

“The mental battle,” Jahan said. “The thoughts—all the things that the world is telling you about your injury, about yourself. The physical part was never really crazy, but the thoughts like what could go wrong, what if I don’t come back the same, were really challenging.”

His time o , while boring, wasn’t all bad. He had a lot of free time, which he killed by playing the board game Catan with friends and binge-watching all of Breaking Bad. He even had the opportunity to take a vacation away from the city with his family.

By 2025, a lot has changed. His knee has healed, and can now take the force of regular play again. In January, Jahan started full-contact practices with the team, and could start playing whenever he wants. Even so, the Stingers point guard made a big choice this winter, deciding that he won’t suit up for the Stingers this season. However, this isn’t due to disinterest.

“I think not playing has given me even more fuel to the re,” Jahan said. “I didn’t realize how much of a privilege it was to play university basketball, and now I have a better understanding of the value in it.”

U Sports athletes have ve years of playing eligibility, but that eligibility can be extended to six years if the player misses a year due to injury. Jahan decided he would forgo his eligibility for the 2024-25 season so that he can do more for the Stingers next year.

While the Stingers men’s basketball team is missing one of its top scorers from the last half-decade, they’re fending for themselves pretty well so far. As of Feb. 8, the Stingers have a record of 10-2.

“How well the team has done, regardless of countless hurdles, is impressive to say the least,” Jahan said. “ e work they’ve done makes me feel proud to be a member of this team.”

Since joining the Concordia Stingers men’s basketball team in 2019, Jahan has been a cornerstone of the squad. In four years of playing with the team, he has amassed career averages of 13 points, four rebounds and three assists per game, and has started in 45 of his 53 Stingers appearances. Jahan was especially dominant in the 2023-24 season, where he started in all 15 of his games, averaged 15.4 points per game, and amassed career high averages in rebounding (5.1) and assists (3.6).

Jahan said that his rehabilitation was a communal e ort. His parents took turns driving from Hamilton to Montreal to visit him for the rst ve weeks of his injury. Members of the basketball community, both from Quebec and outside of the province, reached out to him to check in on his condition. His teammates and his friends were also of great support.

All that’s left for Jahan now is to keep doing what he’s doing: practicing with the team, staying in good health and keeping his head in the game, which for him, should not be a problem.

“He’s back to where he le o ,” Ortizo said, “and I know he’s hungry to get better.”

JAHAN DECIDED TO SIT OUT THE ENTIRE 2024-25 SEASON DUE TO HIS INJURY. PHOTO ALICE MARTIN

Copied but never respected

The politics of Black aesthetic appropriation

Lory Saint-Fleur @itsjustloryy

Black culture has been built on ideals of resistance and liberation.

Although the de nition of Black culture di ers around the globe, various elements such as braids and music remain at its core.

ese di erences and similarities of Black culture around the globe can partly be attributed to the Atlantic slave trade and colonialism. Ethiopia is known as the only country in Africa not to have gone through colonization, as they defeated the Italians in 1895 at the Battle of Adwa. As for other countries in Africa and the Caribbean, conquest and su ering became the norm. rough nearly 400 years of slavery, more than 12 million men, women, and children were put on ships, many not surviving the treacherous journey.

Across the colonies such as the United States and the Caribbean, the sentiment for a revolution kept growing. e Haitian Revolution started in 1791 and lasted until 1804, Haiti became the rst Black republic to gain independence against the French. is is an accomplishment, as multiple African countries only achieved liberation in the 20th century after prolonged struggles against colonial rule.

Similarly, in the United States, the Black community's su ering continued. Despite the Slavery Abolition Act of 1833 and the abolition of slavery in 1865, Black people in the US faced various new challenges. Jim Crow laws were instituted in 1877, keeping a clear separation between Black people and white people, keeping slavery ideologies alive and well—a reminder that racism doesn’t disappear overnight.

is long history of constant oppression led to a movement of opposition around the world. In South Africa, the ght against apartheid—a racist system that divided the population—was only beginning. In the United States, from 1954 to 1968, the civil rights movement became a demand, a ght for social justice, to allow Black people to be treated fairly and with respect.

popularization of the Afro hairstyle re ected a new sentiment of freedom, as it also became a political statement. Activists such as Angela Davis and the Black Panther Party wore afros as a symbol of de ance. Just as the Afro became a symbol of liberation, for centuries Black hair has carried deep cultural and historical signi cance. Although braids and cornrows are mostly worn today

way of letting hair grow freely, following the conviction that life is sacred. ough afros, braids, and dreadlocks were deemed nappy and unkept by their white counterparts, for Black people, wearing their hair in its most natural form is synonymous with liberation.

Black hair has continuously been policed and stigmatized, reinforcing systemic oppression. e policing of Black hair is root-

Workplace Research Study, 66 per cent of Black women change their hair for a job interview, as Black hair is 2.5 times more likely to be perceived as unprofessional. Black women who wear their natural hair are also more likely to experience microaggressions. ese repeated instances of discrimination have motivated the Black community to demand change by using politics in their favour.

legal protections alone cannot undo centuries of bias. True change requires a shi in societal perception; Black hair must be accepted in all of its forms.

Despite a long history of discrimination, Black hairstyles have been co-opted by the public. e same natural hairstyles that were deemed ugly, un t, and unkept are now frequently used in mainstream fashion as tools of originality, or by everyday people to showcase a “swagger” far from one's culture. In fashion shows such as the 2016 Marc Jacobs New York Fashion Week show, Black hairstyles such as locks are used on white women to make models look more “edgy” and “interesting”. For example, box braids and cornrows have been worn without proper accreditation to the Black community. Instances of cornrows being called “Kardashian braids,” showcase how dangerous white appropriation is and how by forgoing recognition there can be an erasure of culturally rich symbols. Other Black aesthetics such as clothing and music have followed a similar trajectory. Streetwear fashion and hip-hop culture have been absorbed by white individuals, who use cultural markers for pro ts. e relationship between Black culture and fashion is complicated, as many fashion companies from Comme Des Garçon and Marc Jacobs have perpetuated a cycle of erasure by not giving proper recognition to Black culture. Black people have led trends for decades, from long and intricate nails to hoop earrings. Nails have always been a form of expression for Black women. In 1966, they were worn by the rst African-American woman on the cover of Vogue, Donyale Luna.

In today’s technological landscape, this tendency has not changed.

is movement marked the way the Black identity was used and showcased, as it gave pride, power and agency to the Black community. e phrase Black is beautiful emerged in the 1960s, as African Americans truly began to embrace their identity. e

as stylistic choices, it is theorized that slaves used them as tools to escape, with di erent patterns and bumps in braids delineating locations such as rivers.

Additionally, dreadlocks became a symbol of identity and spirituality. First used in a derogatory way, dreadlocks were perceived as dreadful, intimidating, and dirty. e Jamaican Rastafari movement used dreadlocks as a

ed in respectability politics and hair-based discrimination.

Respectability politics implies that social pressures have forced many Black people to adhere to Eurocentric beauty standards to be acceptable in social and professional settings. Hair-based discrimination has been weaponized in professional settings to avoid hiring Black workers.

According to the 2023 CROWN

e CROWN Act stands for Create a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair. e legislative act was rst created in 2019 by Holly J. Mitchell in California. e legislation declares that “race is inclusive of traits historically associated with race, including, but not limited to, hair texture and protective hairstyles.” e act seeks to combat racebased hair discrimination, but

Multiple viral TikTok dance trends were created by Black creators. One such trend was the 2019 Renegade dance, created by Jalaiah Harmon but commodi ed by Charli D’Amelio. When elements of Black culture are commodi ed without proper recognition, it perpetuates a cycle of erasure.

As we dig into Black history and culture, it becomes clear that the problem is about who wears these styles, not the styles themselves. It seems like it was never about the hair or the saggy pants, but about who was wearing it.

BLACK HAIRSTYLES HAVE BEEN CO-OPTED BY THE PUBLIC.GRAPHIC MYRIAM OUAZZANI | @MYMYSARTGALLERY

Uncensored: e third gender

For

trans and non-binary people, safe spaces are important but elusive

It was a quiet winter night when my sister shared Milk with me, a biopic about Harvey Milk, a gay rights activist and California’s rst openly gay man to be elected to public o ce.

The film depicts Milk’s personal and professional struggles with homophobia. It was interesting to realize how much of the homophobic rhetoric targeting 2SLGBTQIA+ in the 1970s is repeated today, in the 2020s, particularly against trans and non-binary people.

e lm had me re ecting on my own gender and sexuality, and how these identities impact the way we move through the world. As a non-binary trans-femme individual, there are certain spaces where I simply do not feel safe, while other spaces provide me with euphoria and glee.

Being able to be your authentic self while working is a privilege that most places are unable to accommodate.

When I was working at Walmart, being misgendered was a feature of the job. On the one hand, I didn’t care what others thought. “I accept myself,” was my internal af-

rmation, melli uously mingling in my mind. On the other hand, constantly being erroneously gendered takes a toll over time. It’s like a rock in your shoe, a constant reminder that things could be better.

Being in such an environment led me to the dysphoric “I wish I was more feminine” instead of the euphoric “I am feminine.” e solution to this problem is simple: respect pronouns. Respect people’s gender. is is a necessary aspect of any inclusive space.

As with all queer identities, every lived experience is unique. But at bottom, no matter how a person identi es, it is crucial that we can all live authentically without judgement, without ridicule, without harassment. is is what is at stake in the discourse around safe spaces; safe spaces point to a basic human need to be accepted as who we are.

e biggest factor that makes a space friendly to non-binary folks is the people present in the space. Sometimes, allies are refreshingly disinterested in your gender and will take you

at your word. Other times, enbies and trans folks are happy to actively listen, to share their own wisdom and lived experiences, and create solidarity.

For me personally, I have transitioned into a non-binary feminine identity, and I re ect on my own safety when going somewhere unfamiliar.

Can I present feminine without being erroneously called a “man” in this space? Are there other like-minded folks who might relate to my experience in big or small ways? Are these people allies? ese are the kinds of questions I ask myself when I enter new or unfamiliar spaces, both in the real world and online.

Online spaces are incredibly hard to navigate. Dating apps as a non-binary person are challenging. Aside from individuals who fetishize the genitals of trans people in a dehumanizing way, there are those who simply do not understand non-binary people and their experience of the world.

At one juncture in my dating app misadventures, I was chatting with a cisgender woman, seemingly getting along. But everything changed when my gender identity came up in the conversation, despite clearly articulating how I identi ed on the pro le. is woman felt she had been “tricked,” telling me that she only wanted to talk to “real girls,”

Love doesn’t need a rulebook

Online dating advice and expectations are ruining relationships

It’salmost Valentine’s Day, and whether you’re single, in a relationship or somewhere in between, there’s a good chance your timelines are ooded with dating advice. Mine surely is.

Social media, mainly TikTok, is full of rules, theories and psychological tactics promising to help achieve “perfect” relationships. Rather than helping us nd meaningful connections, a lot of this advice is making dating more complicated than it needs to be.

Endless “tests” designed to determine if your partner is truly interested are trending. Similar videos encourage behaviours like waiting hours to respond, trying to make them jealous and pulling away to see if they chase. But love isn’t a game where one person needs to win. ese tactics promote manipulation rather than genuine connection.

Some of the tests that come to mind right away are the "bird test" and the "orange peel test," along with many others that encourage people to scrutinize their partners' behaviours or lack thereof in speci c scenarios. For instance, the bird test suggests that a partner's reaction to a casual comment about a bird can reveal their attentiveness and em-

pathy. While these tests might seem insightful, they o en lead to overanalysis and unrealistic expectations, which can ultimately undermine healthy relationships.

But it’s not just these two—there’s the taxi cab theory, the shoe theory, the watch theory, the hair theory— the list goes on. At this point, dating on TikTok feels like a giant testing lab. e truth is: relationships aren’t puzzles you can solve with the right framework.

Our generation has become hyper- xated on oversharing aspects of our lives online. When it comes to relationships, the xation o en stems from a deep desire for external validation. Whether it’s to convince others that your relationship is perfect or to convince yourself that it is—when in reality, it may not be—social media has turned love into a performance. Unfortunately, no theory will give you the answers you’re looking for. If you’re confused about how someone feels about you, the chances are that so are they. e curated nature of social media makes it easy to compare your dating life to what you see online. It makes you hyper-aware of what a relationship “should” look like rather than focusing on what works for you in-

dividually. As we’ve seen with the “Godfather” trend circulating before the TikTok ban—where in uencers confessed to lying about their lives, routines and relationships for engagement—many of these so-called “relationship experts” might have never been in happy or healthy relationships themselves.

At the same time, entire accounts dedicated to “couple goals” content feed into this cycle of unrealistic expectations. ese in uencers turn their relationship into brands, carefully curating every moment to appear e ortless and perfect. But when love becomes content, how much of it is real? Many of these seemingly awless relationships end in quiet breakups, deleted posts and the realization that their picture-perfect love story was just another performance.

At the end of the day, no theory, test or timeline can dictate the success of a relationship. What actually matters is setting boundaries, communicating honestly, and making sure you and your partner have each other’s best interests at heart.

Love doesn’t have to be proven through various tests nor does it have to be a toxic game you’re actively playing to be real or worthwhile. Don’t let social media convince you otherwise.

and when asked to elaborate, talked about chromosomes. is phenomenon can be called gender essentialism, one of the homophobic rhetorics still present to this day, which in this instance, amounts to bigotry. Was I not femme enough?

Gender essentialism is the belief that gender is some innate, unchanging, biologically deterministic category for people, despite my existence being evidence to the contrary. is kind of essentialism around gender is problematic because it ies in the face of any attempt at making spaces safe for non-binary and trans people. If everyone in a room says that there are only two genders, I wouldn’t feel comfortable entering that room.

As Simone de Beauvoir writes in her iconic work e Second Sex, “One is not born a woman, one becomes a woman.” Gender being socially constructed means we come into our own as we move through the world. I hope for a future where all people, regardless of gender, can do so safely.

@safahachi Safa Hachi BeN “Bee” Upshaw

On Jan. 29, Concordia University undergraduate students lled the Henry F. Hall Building Auditorium for a Concordia Student Union (CSU) special general meeting (SGM).

Over 900 students showed face to vote on bringing the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) motion to the Concordia Board of Governors (BoG) on Feb. 6.

Students voted overwhelmingly in favour of the motion in an astounding display of democratic passion, with a nal tally of 885 votes for and 58 votes against. Hundreds of students cried out in euphoria the moment the vote count was announced. Cheers and chants resonated loudly in the Hall building lobby.

However, Concordia found a way to silence the cheers as quickly as they had erupted.

Concordia president Graham Carr released a statement a day a er the vote, in which he claimed to have received “deeply troubling” reports on the SGM. Some such reports included the presence of “heavily masked individuals” and “complaints of discriminatory behaviour.”

e Link nds Carr’s statements on “masked individuals” incredibly ableist. Students are fully permitted to wear masks and should be encouraged to do so to protect themselves and others against the seasonal u, the norovirus and other respiratory diseases notably on the rise these days. As for dis-

e student body won’t be silenced.

Not now, not ever.

criminatory behaviour, Carr was correct: some dissenters referred to BDS supporters as “terrorists” and an “850-student mob.”

Carr reiterated that the university’s position on BDS has remained unchanged for several years.

But it didn’t stop there.

Anne Whitelaw, Concordia’s provost and VP Academic, and Michael Di Grappa, VP of Services and Sustainability, sent a letter to the CSU on Feb. 6, announcing that the university would launch an investigation into the union following the vote.

e letter alleged that the CSU used the Hall mezzanine without rst reserving the space; that it exceeded the auditorium’s maximum capacity; and that it allowed e People’s Potato to block emergency exits to serve food, which is forbidden in the auditorium.

A er the overwhelming “Yes” majority at the SGM, e Link attempted to cover the Feb. 6 BoG meeting.

Media is usually allowed to attend open session BoG meetings as observers. However, the observation room on Zoom was closed at exactly 4 p.m., the moment the “open session” meeting was supposed to start. Access to the meeting was suddenly barred for all observers, including one member of e Link’s masthead.

e Link believes that the media and any interested patron should have been allowed to be present at

the meeting—the discussions had at these meetings a ect us all.

Until the investigation concludes, the letter states that the CSU is “not authorized to book any space on campus, including but not limited to spaces in the Hall Building, including the Mezzanine.” is means that the CSU can-

not table in the mezzanine or book any spaces on campus, until further notice. We consider this an extreme overreaction from the university.

e Link believes the administration’s arguments about the union exceeding the room’s maximum capacity or blocking emergency

exits to serve food are near baseless claims working to delegitimize the vote and penalize the union.

None of these problems pertain to the SGM’s democratic procedure. Students demonstrated their feelings, clearly, fairly and democratically, yet the university is outwardly and intentionally tuning out the thunderous roar of its student body.

Concordia could have simply asked the CSU to respect these regulations in the future. Instead, it took the opportunity to heavily penalize the union, and by extension, all voting undergraduate students who have trust in the democratic process.

Students need representation. e CSU needs to have free reign to plan events and meetings. Without that right, student rights will be in jeopardy: a crucial channel of communication with the administration will be cut o . Student life will be severely limited.

e Link urges all Concordia students to be louder than the institution. Amplify your voice, ght for BDS, and any other issue that you believe in. Stand up for your right to a democratic union. Your voice is crucial to the proper governance of the university.

e university might try to tune its students out by publicly delegitimizing our e orts, but it will never be louder than us. Change is made when disruption and noise is at the forefront of the cause.

Volume 45, Issue 9

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Concordia University

Library Building, Room LB-717 1400 de Maisonneuve Blvd. W. Montreal, Quebec H3G 2V8

Editor: 514-848-2424 x. 7407

Arts: 514-848-2424 x. 5813

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TheLinkis published twelve 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 will 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, homophobic, xenophobic, libellous or otherwise contrary to TheLink's statement of principles.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS 2024-2025: Voting Members: Jessica Hungate, Miriam Lafontaine, Iness Rifay | Non-Voting Members: Hannah Vogan, Varda Nisar, Jonathan Cook.

TYPESETTING by TheLink PRINTING by Hebdo-Litho.

CONTRIBUTORS: Anna Tchernikov, BeN “Bee” Upshaw, Camila Lewandowski, Caroline Marsh, Chloe Siohan, Cordelia Appleyard, Dusty Goldberg, Justine Beaussier, Louis Paillier, Mira de Koven, Nicolas Tremblay, Olivia Shan, Safa Hachi, Samuel Kayll, Stella Mazurek, Zosia.

House Ads: Panos Michalakopoulos, Myriam Ouazzani, Maria Cholakova.

Cover: Andraé Lerone Lewis, Panos Michalakopoulos, Myriam Ouazzani.

MICHALAKOPOULOS GENEVIÈVE SYLVESTRE

HANNAH SCOTT-TALIB

CLAUDIA BEAUDOIN

INDIA DAS-BROWN

JARED LACKMAN-MINCOFF

LORY SAINT-FLEUR

ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS

PHOTO ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS