Blackness is not a monolith
By: Noeka Nimmervoll, Staff Writer
In Canadian media, when Black individuals are celebrated, their cultural identity is simplified under this single social label, seemingly for the convenience and comfort of other Canadians. The author Esi Edugyan explained to The Tyee that “ideas of what it meant to be a Black person were these kinds of easily digested, maybe monotone depictions of Black characters on downgrade TV shows.”
It’s time to get more specific about the unique backgrounds that make the Black community so diverse. For true celebration of Black excellence, the unique experiences and identities of Black individuals must be recognized and understood.
Black is a term used in countries with Black diaspora communities, which often comprise many identities. In many families, the term Black is not used until Western influence and racial differentiation set in; before, they identify with terms such as Ethiopian, Algerian, and Nigerian. This westernization of Blackness seems to operate from the false concept of “white superiority,” both past and present. Historically, Black people in America have experienced heavy stereotyping and profiling that come from a lack of respect within a Eurocentric society, felt both individually and systemically. Creating the idea of a singular Black culture, and with it, a singular idea of a Black person, allows for prejudice and fearmongering to grow in a society. This is not to invalidate the experience and identity of those who are most aligned with being Black.
Yet, the idea for a singular culture seems to be used for the comfort and simplicity of the rest of the population at the expense of a true acknowledgement of Black histories and experiences. Of course, it reflects the limited Black histories that are taught in BC about a multicultural community that comprises only 1% of BC. Often, because of this lack of Black population and historical education, Black children unfairly become the only representation of Black culture in their school settings, and face unique challenges in representing a falsely monolithic identity alone. It’s not their responsibility to be an emblem of Black culture — they should be allowed to just be kids.
Identities like Black Canadian, Black Indigenous, and Caribbean Canadian are just a few of the identities that exist in Canada under the umbrella term of Blackness, displaying the many existing intersectional identities.
Intersectionality is a sociopolitical framework that points to the interconnected nature of social categories, wherein the experience of a Black Indigenous woman is not simply the addition of these separate experiences of being Black, Indigenous, and a woman. It provides language to talk about the unique experiences and oppressions that someone who exists at the intersection of these identities experiences.
Instead of assuming a person is one thing or another, acknowledge their history. Your colleague could identify as Kenyan, Black, or both. Most importantly, the agency of divulging one’s identity should belong to the speaker. The norm should be a Black person sharing their unique story, if they feel like they want to. When you meet someone, no matter their race, have them tell you what their identity is and what they prefer to be called.
This overarching diversity should be precisely what is celebrated during Black History Month and beyond, and should be a key part of the story when celebrating Black identities in BC.
Black spaces that feel like home
By: C Icart, Co-Editor-in-Chief
Last December, I went home to see my family for the holidays, as I do every year. It was a great time, and after months away, the warmth of being in majority-Black spaces envelopes me. So let me let you in on what these spaces are and their historical significance in Black communities.
The beauty supply store
When I go back to Ontario, my mom always asks if I want to take advantage and get my hair done. With a smaller Black population, there are fewer options and higher prices out here in BC. In the past couple of years, I’ve been choosing to rock the faux loc* look, but I was feeling box braids* this time. I needed to go to the beauty supply store to execute my vision. I didn’t realize not everyone knew about these stores until non-Black people started asking me where I got the hair for my box braids when I flew back to Vancouver.
Beauty supply stores are magical. Some even refer to them as “sacred spaces” for Black women.
While drugstore selection has improved, the beauty supply store is one of the only places that has a wide selection of products for Black hair. I walk past the relaxers* and beads my mom used to put in my hair as a kid, towards the seemingly never-ending wall of braiding hair. It comes in all colours and lengths. I called my mom over to help me decide on the shade of red and the number of packs I need (nothing is more annoying than returning to the beauty supply shop with your hair half done because you didn’t buy enough hair). Oh, and can’t forget the bonnet*!
The braider’s house
Black hair salons and barber shops are some of my favourite places on earth (extra points for the ones with TVs playing Afrobeats music videos), but this time we were heading to my mom’s friend’s house. Many Black women take on braiding as a side hustle. On top of making money, they are keeping alive a cultural practice that has existed in Black communities for thousands of years. Different braiding styles differentiated African cultures, and then, the people taken and enslaved during the transatlantic slave trade adapted their hairstyles to their new conditions. This is the origin story of cornrows*, for example. Unlike the times when I’ve fallen asleep while my aunt braided my hair (the process takes hours), visiting this at-home braider was slightly more professional. I showed her the hair and explained the braids I wanted and her expert hands started moving at the speed of light. Lively conversation and cultural exchange (my mom and I are Haitian and the braider is Cameroonian) animated the space as family members walked in and out. Multiple people worked on my hair at once because they had a packed day (it was New Year’s Eve). Both my mom and I walked out looking absolutely fabulous.
The Black church
As a Haitian Canadian queer and trans person, my relationship with Christianity has been . . . complicated. I was raised Christian, went to Catholic school, and went to church with my mom every Sunday. As I got older and learned more about history, social justice, and myself, I started asking the hard questions. What does it mean to adopt a religion that has been both used to justify the oppression of my people and support the Haitian Revolution? Can I pray next to people who use religion to justify homophobic views? But I also knew that this small local Haitian church was one of the only majority-Black spaces I had growing up. Monday–Friday, I was one of 2–3 Black kids in class feeling like an outcast. But on Sunday, I put on my nicest clothes to go to Sunday school with a bunch of kids that look like me.
We sang songs in French and Haitian Creole and socialized after the service. It was a great place for community and returning as an adult for Christmas and catching up with everyone filled my heart. My Sunday school teacher asked me if I still read the Bible I used to annotate as a kid. I answered with a non-committal smile.
The kitchen
Home is where the bannann peze* is. My mom always makes this Haitian side dish for me when I come home because it’s my favourite, and I don’t like deep-frying in my poorly ventilated basement unit. Otherwise, cooking is one of my favourite hobbies. So, considering that I’ve learned how to make pad thai, scallion pancakes, and mushroom risotto from scratch, how is it that I barely know any Haitian recipes? The recipes can’t die with me. I’m sure my mom was thinking the same thing because she was very clear that this New Year, I was going to make and drink soup joumou. So I asked for her recipe, went online and read how other people make it and headed to the grocery store to gather the ingredients for my attempt at veganizing the iconic dish. On January 1, 1804, the Haitian Revolution culminated in independence from the French.
Soup joumou* used to be reserved for slave owners, so drinking the soup every year on January 1 is a powerful act. Prior to European colonization, the land now known as Haiti was inhabited by the Taíno people. When they became independent, Haitians got rid of the colonial name given by the French (Saint-Domingue) and replaced it with Ayiti, the Indigenous Taíno name. My parents say I put too many hot peppers in the soup, but I think it turned out just right!
In past years, I think I approached Black History Month as an opportunity to learn and educate other people about Black Canadian history, because it tends to be overshadowed by African American history. After all, I’m a Black Canadian. But I’m also a second-generation immigrant so, for me, learning about Black history is learning more about Haitian history and celebrating my culture. So from me to you, Bon Mwa Istwa Nwa! Happy Black History Month!
Glossary
Bannann peze: This Haitian creole word directly translating to “pressed plantains” refers to fried plantains. Typically, Haitians will soak unripened plantain slices in salted water before frying them twice.
Bonnet: Typically made of satin or silk, bonnets are used to protect hair from the elements. Many people wear them to avoid the friction between their hair and their cotton pillow cases that would lead to hair breakage.
Box braids: This is a hairstyle where hair extensions are braided with one’s hair. The term box refers to the square shape of the parting for each braid.
Cornrows: This braided hairstyle can be traced back to 3000 BC “in the Horn and West coasts of Africa.” They were often used to communicate information like marital status or religion. During the slave trade, they were sometimes used strategically to illustrate escape routes. In some cases, they were used as a place to hide seeds that could be used to plant food to survive after they escaped. Today, they function as a common protective style with a rich history in Black communities.
Faux locs: This is a hairstyle that imitates the look of locs with hair extensions. Locs (sometimes known as dreadlocks) are a hairstyle where sections of hair are matted together to “create a rope-like appearance.” The word locs tends to be preferred over dreadlocks because the term is believed to originate from slave owners calling the hair of enslaved people “dreadful” when it matted after months on ships.
Relaxer: This is a chemical treatment that permanently straightens curly hair. Relaxers have been fluctuating in and out of style in Black communities since the 1940s. There has been research coming out about the health risks related to wearing relaxers.
Soup joumou: Blended calabaza squash and Haitian epis (a blended seasoning paste made with garlic, scallions, thyme, and parsley) serve as a base for this iconic soup. It is then customary to add ingredients like potatoes, cabbage, beef, pasta, and leeks.
My musings on Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner at the Vancouver Public Library
By: Jonah Lazar, Staff Writer
Throughout Black History Month, the Vancouver Public Library is running “Black Brilliance on Screen,” a film series taking place on Friday afternoons to explore prejudice, discrimination, and Black identity.
February 13’s programme was the star-studded, 1967 rom-com Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, featuring Sidney Poitier, Katharine Hepburn, Katharine Houghton, and Spencer Tracy. This film is a snapshot of an afternoon when a rich, young, white woman brings home her Black fiancé to meet her parents, and to seek out their blessing for them to get married. The film details how her parents, particularly her father, come to terms with their daughter loving a Black man. Throughout the film, the father, played by Tracy, battles with what he thought were his liberal values and his deep-seated racism.
This film definitely shows its age when grappling with certain themes; the acceptance of the Black fiancé is largely hinged on the fact that he is a doctor and a professor, among other laudable achievements.
In a way, it seems that this character was turned into an exemplary figure, as this was the only way in which audiences would sympathize with him. The film also leaves much to be desired in the way that the men speak to, and treat, women.
For me, the most impactful scene of the film is the closing sequence without a doubt. Tracy delivers one last speech in which his character finally comes to terms with the situation, and chooses to support his daughter and fiancé on their journey. While the speech within the film is very touching, the events happening behind the scenes add a layer of gravity, which bleeds through quite visibly. Tracy had been dealing with severe health problems for years leading up to the film, and this scene was his last before he passed away just 17 days later. This final scene continually pans to a heartbroken Hepburn, who plays his wife in the film, but had also been his long-time lover and friend for 26 years. The love and the pain in their eyes as they try to hold it together to finish the scene are truly palpable, and add a depth to this film, which cannot be manufactured. I had been far more critical of this film up until this scene, as prior to the ending it felt like something of a run-of-the-mill vintage movie. However this ending sequence was emotionally captivating and made me feel as though I was watching my grandparents dance together for the last time. Despite certain themes such as sexism and elitism in this movie, I think the end sequence depicting the bittersweet tragedy and loss of these two people who had loved each other for such a long time certainly makes it worth watching.
Personal retrospectives from the As You Are: Celebrating Asian Artists
By: Maya Barillas Mohan, Staff Writer
Nestled in a repurposed motel painted in bright colours right on Main Street, 15 minutes from the train, One More Life gallery calls quiet attention to itself. Open until February 28, As You Are: Celebrating Asian Artists features more than 30 local Asian artists. I went on behalf of The Peak on Valentine’s Day and met the co-founders of the gallery, Flavia Chan, and Daniel Yang.
Enclosed in a small space converted from a reception lobby, the gallery has a small footprint. There are 33 pieces, each by a different artist, and the only restriction was size. Chan says that “this is a show for them to create and express with full freedom however they want.”
I also reached out to Kathy Mak, a featured artist and accomplished SFU alum. Having contributed to The Peak as a student new to creating work, Mak has published, performed, tabled, and judged artwork in the nine years since. She urged viewers to think about their “own roots and journey,” while contemplating her work, teaching me the Chinese saying “勿忘初心,” (wù wàng chūxīn), which roughly translates to “don’t forget your initial heart.”
The gallery featured an abundance of artists, styles, and interpretations Mak described as “inspiring.
” Art aggregates one into the community, forging a connection to “our respective cultures, other artists, and passersby.”
— Kathy Mak, featured artist
Peering at each piece, many in experimental mediums, I thought about my own Southeast Asian heritage. Being mixed, I experienced a variety of cultural traditions cobbled together as I grew up. As an adult I’ve lost touch with some of them. So many of the paintings evoked something nostalgic and sentimental as I gazed at each one.
Mak confided that this was her first gallery experience, cherishing the opportunity to share her input on “what it means to be Asian.” Brought to life in the work displayed, Mak incorporated memories of her recent trip to Macao. She characterized the local architecture as “tight-knit and rustic, but [with] a sense of realness to it.” The process of artistic creation allows Mak to “observe, appreciate, and connect with [her] roots deeper.”
Prominent against a pristine white wall, much is communicated through the colour or a lack thereof in each work. Mak says colour can “transcend a piece to a different level,” but is adamant that there is beauty and charm in black-and-white when a viewer lingers. Mak’s architectural sketches are monochrome, allowing Mak to capture “memorable, happy” moments — her contribution to As You Are is neatly inked on stark white paper. The piece provides clean outlines, and the viewer can wonder where the light fell as the artist gazed upon the reference.
The As You Are exhibition was an immersive experience. Attractions like this are crucial for creating community through production and viewership of the art itself. Interactive workshops make arts and crafts more accessible. Within the narrow display space, I felt completely immersed in something collaborative and expressive. While only open on Saturdays, the exhibition is a must see.
As You Are: Celebrating Asian Artists will be on display at One More Life gallery until February 28.
Beware of evil chipmunk pop stars when raising your child
By: Maya Barillas Mohan, Staff Writer
When raising a child, you must follow three golden abstinences. A satisfying life is often defined through experiences gained and pursued, but boundaries are evergreen. Without limiting certain practices, chaos ensues.
- Don’t give them an iPad
- Don’t allow them to talk back
- DON’T LET THEM ANYWHERE NEAR ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS
They’re adorable, fuzzy, vivacious little creatures. But they are GROSSLY INACCURATE PORTRAYALS OF RODENTS and possess unnaturally high and squeaky voices. While the appeal of Alvin is gravitational, despite his tiny size, his pathetic, anthropomorphized body must be barred from any and all screens in your home. If you allow your child to engage with Alvin and the Chipmunks in any capacity, you open your life to several dangers. For one, your child may be disappointed that the mice your landlord won’t evict can’t sing or play guitar. They might even attempt to catch one and domesticate it to bring out its hidden talents. Another issue that arises is they may request a CD version (or Bandcamp) of the Alvin and the Chipmunks soundtrack. You will be forced to relive your glory days of youth at the club with covers massacred by a CGI rodent’s abrasive croon.
The bizarre rodent brothers are managed by their human father. This freak display rejects all genetic logic and is never explained. Imagine trying to explain the birds and the . . . chipmunks to your kid, who already looks nothing like you post-rhinoplasty. If these little scrappy critters are elevated to the dignity of a human child, there is no limit to what your child will believe is possible. You’re going to feel massively intolerant, trying to explain that families have to be composed of people.
Alvin and his chipmunk brothers are grossly over-decorated, having EIGHT Grammy nominations. This represents the death of art and respect for music as a legitimate enterprise. Alvin and the Chipmunks’ music is pitched up, weakly inspired by the sound of an elementary school choir, without any of the soul behind music production. Their prolific catalogue is evidence that they are not making music for any reason besides the mass market. In Chipwrecked, the chipmunks get stranded on a deserted island en route to a music awards show. You will pray they remain there at the hand of their own hubris, but these squeaky, wretched creatures are infallible.
If you and your child follow this expansive chipmunk franchise, you are participating in the deterioration of art. Alvin doesn’t want to promote friendship or the virtue of learning an instrument — he wants to slap around his gentler and smarter brothers for cheap laughs on the TV. He wants to sell CDs and stuffed animals filled with microplastics. The gullible mom in you might even be persuaded to purchase tiny outfits to dress up these lifeless chipmunk dolls, accessories shrunken leagues beyond use.
Beyond this, an unrealistic expectation is created about the lifespans of what are essentially glorified pets. The personification of these chipmunks has these three demons stuck at the same age throughout the show, despite a chipmunk only living until three years of age! True parents must order for the public execution of Alvin, Simon, and Theodore!
Alvin and the Chipmunks does not promote good values, let alone good art. While chipmunks are low on the food chain, they will become a parasite in your home. Ban it.
Students raise concerns over alleged AI-use at the SFU bookstore
By: Mason Mattu, Section Editor
Recently, the SFU bookstore began sporting a raccoon graphic on stickers, magnets, keychains, buttons, and t-shirts. This became a topic of discussion on the r/simonfraser subreddit, where users questioned whether the graphics were generated by artificial intelligence (AI). Some pointed to minor variations in the raccoon’s appearance across different items, such as different paw, teeth, and tail styles. One person claiming to work with AI also noted grainy textures, which they believe are synonymous with AI usage. According to Capitol Technology University, AI usage signs in art involve small inconsistencies such as extra fingers or distortions.
“If they commissioned an alum or current student, the artist would be pretty consistent in their character design. Artists don’t usually change up their character designs for the same project or series of merch,” one Redditor commented. “Sure, it can evolve over time, but these raccoons are used on the same few pieces of merch and posters.”
In a statement to The Peak, the bookstore’s products team lead wrote that AI was only used “at the very beginning of the mascot’s creation,” and not further.
“I saw there were some comments around the raccoons and bears having slightly different designs or are too pixelated,” the representative said. “The graphic designer made a couple dozen designs of the mascots, so there were some variations between them. As for the pixelation, it’s just the type of medium used.”
The SFU bookstore told The Peak that their “in-house graphics designer from Document Solutions at SFU” was happy to provide copyright information and drafts for all illustrations. The Peak contacted Document Solutions on four occasions over several weeks but did not receive a response.
“What has been disappointing is these accusations are made directly for public condemnation; we were never contacted before the post was made on Reddit, presenting speculation as facts and allowing misinformation to spread,” the bookstore representative said.
“Our reputation was damaged and our designer’s work was disrespected. In an academic environment at SFU and age of AI, exercising critical thinking, research, and source verifications has become more important than ever.”
Eugene Lee, a design student at Capilano University, told The Peak that if this had been a use of AI, it could have been unintentional.
“In-house designers also borrow [and buy the rights to a graphic] from clip art websites,” she said. Graphic designers “will be on a clip art website and looking for a graphic that they want, and choose one without knowing it’s AI. The person who made it knows that it’s AI, but the person choosing it might not be good with technology or at spotting AI art.”
The Peak also contacted SFU’s Interactive Arts and Technology Student Union for more input on the designs, but did not receive a response by publication time.
Mapping bicycle infrastructure across Canada
By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer
How far can two wheels take you? For SFU health sciences professor Dr. Meghan Winters, this is a question worth exploring.
Winters works in the cities, health & active transportation research lab, which focuses on “the intersection of population health, urban environments, transportation, and safety to produce evidence to support practice, policy, and programs.” Recently, she headed a study chronicling the changes in bicycle infrastructure, or the various roads and paths intended for cycling, in Canada from 2022 to 2024. The Peak spoke with her for more information.
Without a trail to follow, Winters and her team had to build their criteria before assembling a map of cycling networks across Canada in 2022. Doing so meant finding a way to measure the different types of bikeable areas throughout the country. “Not all bike lanes feel equal [ . . . ] there’s different levels of both comfort and objectively measured safety on different kinds of cycling infrastructure,” she said.
After researching engineering design guidelines and public health evidence, the team created the “Canadian bikeway comfort and safety” classification system. Bike infrastructure was rated as high, medium, or low comfort. High comfort meant “bike-only paths, cycle tracks, and local street bikeways,” while medium comfort was “paved multi-use paths,” and low comfort was “painted bike lanes.” From there, the team took their newly founded rating system and applied it to OpenStreetMap to form their own map.
According to the study, plotting cycling network data is a key step in “supporting healthy transportation options in cities of all sizes,” especially when some cities are removing bike lanes.
The 2024 map indicates that the total distance of bike paths and lanes increased from 23,502 kilometres in 2022 to 27,089 two years later, with most additions being classified as medium comfort. Additionally, more growth was charted in small and medium cities (populations of 50,000 to 499,999) as opposed to large ones. “Areas with greater populations of recent immigrants, racialized people, and people with low incomes,” as well as “areas with lower proportions of populations of children and older adults” also saw more expansion.
Winters clarified that while these areas may see more bike infrastructure, it is not necessarily built with these populations in mind. In reality, busier streets with bike lanes may be home to more newcomers or lower-income populations, while children and families may live in more residential areas.
“When cities are planning their infrastructure, they have different criteria in mind, and the criteria may not be ‘are we building infrastructure near kids and the places kids need to go.’”
— Dr. Meghan Winters, SFU health sciences professor and lead author of the study
In regard to Vancouver, the city “showed little change over the time period” in terms of bike networks. “There is high-density cycling infrastructure in some areas, in the business district, around the Seawall [ . . . ] and yet there are a lot of areas of Vancouver that are very underserved,” Winters explained. Such a layout agrees with the study’s findings that “a common pattern in many cities’ cycling infrastructure is a focus on connecting to business districts, but often fewer connections between neighbourhoods.”
“All through South and East Vancouver, it’s very hard to ride your bicycle. The connections aren’t there, the protection isn’t there, and it makes it hard for the people living in those neighbourhoods to be able to get across town to the places they need to go.”
These findings could inform future work, such as “offering the potential to explore linkages between cycling infrastructure and health and social outcomes.” They also support “evaluat[ing] the existing cycling network and prioritiz[ing] investments for populations who have been underserved or are underrepresented in the cycling community” when looking to expand bike networks in the future.
We can’t keep borrowing America’s story
By: Jonah Lazar, Staff Writer
In 2018, Canada made a historic decision to feature Viola Desmond on the $10 bill. In 1946, Desmond refused to leave the implicitly whites-only section of a movie theatre, leading to her being fined and jailed. Her case is often credited with having helped kickstart the Canadian civil rights movement. She is the first Black person, and first the Canadian woman, to stand alone on one of Canada’s banknotes.
This was a watershed moment in the public perception and recognition of Black Canadian history. Unfortunately, there are still instances when Viola Desmond is referred to as “Canada’s Rosa Parks.” This is a common theme in Canada. Our proximity to a country with a sociopolitical influence like the US has often meant we adopt aspects of their history at the expense of learning about our own. During Black History Month, many of us will be exposed to stories of Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and the aforementioned Rosa Parks, due to their prominence in American media, which has a tendency to seep into our country. In Canada, these figures often take centre stage at the expense of championing the Black civil rights activists who fought for equality domestically. Viola Desmond, as well as many other Canadian civil rights activists, such as Charles Daniels and Lulu Anderson, who were both denied entry to theatres in Alberta, have for too long remained in the shadows of civil rights activists south of the border.
This isn’t to say that the US’ civil rights movement shouldn’t be taught — the stories of freedom fighters in the US should be acknowledged — but it definitely shouldn’t be the focal narratives in Canada. Centring US stories erases the champions of Canada’s civil rights movement and creates a situation where accountability for the oppression of Black people in Canada goes unaddressed. This gives Canadians a false sense of their state’s innocence, as it allows them to focus on the injustices abroad in which they did not explicitly participate. This serves to erase the long, uncomfortable history of systemic oppression of Black people in Canada. Centring American history comes at the expense of acknowledging that segregation in some Canadian public schools continued until the 1980s.
We talk about Harlem at the expense of Africville.
Centring Black Canadian history during Black History Month is crucial to rightfully celebrate Black Canadian civil rights activists whose contributions have not been recognized as much as the work by their American counterparts. In doing so, we situate Black Canadians who fought for civil rights in our country as being a visible part of our cultural fabric, rather than a mere spillover of the movement in the US. Finally, confronting these elements of Canada’s past creates important and necessary dialogue about the realities of discrimination still felt by Black people in Canada.
Student advocacy is a frontline defence against the war on Ukraine
By: Iryna Shyshkina, SFU Student
Student advocacy has, historically, played a significant role in creating social change. For some, student advocacy is a necessary outlet to share one’s voice. This has become especially necessary for Ukrainian students. Some talk about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, as if it began suddenly in February 2022. For Ukrainians, especially those in the diaspora, this framing is not just inaccurate; it is exhausting. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is not a new crisis, but a long and escalating aggressive campaign that has shaped Ukrainian lives. For this reason, student advocacy becomes something larger than spreading awareness; it is a form of survival, resistance, and a fight to preserve cultural identity.
After Ukraine regained independence in 1991, Russia continued attempting to maintain control through various tactics. Through acts of political pressure, economic coercion, information warfare, and efforts to undermine Ukrainian sovereignty. Russia’s aggression escalated in 2014 with the illegal annexation of the Crimean Peninsula and the creation of the so-called Donetsk and Luhansk “People’s Republics,” which were never recognized by Ukraine or by the international community. When the war is framed as something that just began in 2022, it pushes unaffected people to treat it as a single shocking event rather than a long struggle, perhaps making it easier to detach and grow numb over time. For Ukrainians, there has been an attack on our sovereignty, identity, and safety that is felt in all brutality on a daily basis.
For those living outside of Ukraine, this creates a different but deeply personal loss. Many Ukrainian Canadian diaspora members worry about the physical safety of their loved ones, while also being emotionally attached to daily violence and horrors that are happening there.
Many in my community, including myself, have family members in Ukraine — waking up with news that our cities have been bombed, and not having the ability to contact our relatives immediately due to power outages.
This is a hard reality that many Ukrainians face. Advocacy becomes a sociopolitical necessity.
This is why student advocacy matters. All over Canada, students have rallied in support of Ukraine through student-led organizations. From McGill, to the University of Toronto, to the University of Victoria. The student body at SFU is no exception: the Ukrainian Student Society (USS) exists not only to raise awareness, but to actively counter discrimination, preserve historical context, and transform care into action (such as fundraising). In a media environment, where the situation is depicted as “complicated,” this student-led space provides verifiable information, education, and human support. Through events, lectures, cultural programming, and organizing, it allows us to keep Ukraine present, as a lived and ongoing reality.
Advocacy helps counter feelings of helplessness. Seeing others speak up, post, organize, and become a voice for the Ukrainian people restores a sense of hope, reminding us we are not alone.
Student-led advocacy is practical solidarity. The USS collaborates with organizations like All-Ukrainian Association “Patriot,” which supports adults and children affected by the war and assists Ukraine’s defence efforts through humanitarian initiatives. It also works with the Ukrainian Canadian Congress, which represents Canada’s Ukrainian community, advocates for their interests before the government, and strengthens cultural and political linkages with Ukraine. Advocacy can produce positive, tangible impacts. Cultural preservation happens not only through memory, also through active support and community mobilization.
Russia’s war on Ukraine is about more than territory. It is a matter of whose history survives, whose culture continues, and whose future is allowed to exist. By organizing, educating, and sustaining Ukrainian culture overseas, the community resists erasure in real and meaningful ways. Student advocacy is not just a symbolic support; it is a real defence of identity, culture, and justice.
SFU Iranian students speak out
By: Jonah Lazar, Staff Writer and Petra Chase, Features Editor
It’s been over a month since the Islamic Republic of Iran began its crackdown on nationwide protests against the regime. Protests erupted in December 2025 regarding economic hardship and against Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. While ongoing internet shutdowns and state repression have made exact figures unclear, the death toll has been climbing. Though estimates vary widely, the death toll has been reported to be anywhere between 7,000 to over 40,000. Iran International reported over 36,500 have been killed.
SFU’s Iranian student body is among the millions of Iranians in Iran and abroad reeling from loss, violence, and uncertainty. SFU Iranian Club started a change.org petition calling for greater flexibility in tuition and academic accommodations, and targeted mental health support. They want SFU to recognize and respond to the urgency of this crisis, as “internet restrictions have disrupted communication and interfered with access to banking and international money transfers,” the petition reads. “Allowing [students] to be academically or financially penalized by a geopolitical crisis contradicts [SFU’s] values and damages SFU’s reputation as a university that stands by its international students.” At the time of writing, this petition has 500 signatures.
The Peak interviewed members of the SFU Iranian club to find out more. Answers have been edited for concision. Ali and Leila are anonymous pseudonyms granted to protect those students’ identities.
How has the political situation in Iran affected you emotionally? Has this impacted your studies?
Kian: I am in a constant state of emotional shock and distress. I am repeatedly confronted with reports and videos showing the deaths of tens of thousands of people. Even simple daily activities, like going to a restaurant, attending an event, or playing soccer, remind me there are people in Iran who are no longer able to. I have found it increasingly difficult to concentrate and maintain focus on my studies.
Ali: During the protests, there was a period of 20 days when my parents and all the people in Iran didn’t have internet access, except the few with access to Starlink or links to the government. I didn’t know if my family was safe or not and had nightmares.
Leila: My parents live in Iran, and during periods of internet shutdown and unrest, not being able to contact them has been extremely distressing. The uncertainty of not knowing whether they’re safe is overwhelming.
It is very difficult to focus on school when you are constantly worried about your family’s safety. While I try to remain focused and meet my academic responsibilities, the emotional toll has made that very challenging.
— Leila, anonymous SFU student
Zahra: Is it even possible to witness the death of fellow citizens and loved ones in the worst way, to speak with the people who have lost someone, and not be affected?
How has the internet shutdown in Iran affected your financial situation?
Zahra: It has affected me completely because it has disrupted money transfers for us. Even now, after the internet has partially returned, this has still not been fully restored. For example, my own online banking access has been blocked for more than a month, and I do not have access to it. As far as I know, many students were receiving their living and rent expenses from Iran, and they have faced serious difficulties. Even with part-time work, covering independent living costs in addition to international student tuition is not easy.
Kian: Due to the internet shutdown and broader instability, my family suddenly lost a significant part of our monthly income. This forced us to reassess our financial situation and reduce spending on daily necessities.
The uncertainty surrounding communication and financial transfers has added an additional layer of stress to an already difficult situation.
— Kian, SFU student
How much contact have you had with friends and relatives currently residing in Iran since the beginning of the shutdowns and protests?
Zahra: I speak every day with different people in Iran. I try to support them psychologically and check in on how they are doing.
Ali: Internet access has returned via VPNs and I am able to call them every day. But during those 20 days, it was not possible to call them. That, combined with all the footage of mass killings in Iran’s streets, created a very stressful situation.
Leila: My contact with friends and relatives in Iran has been inconsistent. There have been periods when I could not reach my parents at all. Communication depends on unstable connections or VPN access, and sometimes we go days without hearing from them.
Kian: During the internet blackout, we had to rely on unconventional and indirect methods of communication. In some cases, we reached out to people travelling between countries to carry messages on our behalf. I sent a message to someone I did not know personally, asking them to contact my relatives once they crossed the border and confirm whether they had survived the violence. We then had to wait for that individual to return and relay the message back to us. Eventually, we learned that one of my cousins was confirmed to have been killed. That period of uncertainty and waiting was one of the most distressing experiences of my life.
Have you reached out seeking support from SFU during this time, and how did they respond?
Kian: I have attended group counselling sessions provided by SFU. While I appreciate that support is available, I found it insufficient given the magnitude of what many Iranian students are experiencing. The general health and counselling services offered to all students and staff feel broad and not specifically tailored to the unique trauma and grief associated with this crisis. In my experience, there is a need for more specialized mental health support, including access to professionals who understand the cultural and political context of the situation.
Leila: Some instructors, such as Dr. Sherryl Bisgrove and Dr. Gordon Rintoul were compassionate and understanding, and I am very grateful for their support. However, institutionally, I have not felt the same level of care. My classmates and I created posters around campus to raise awareness because we felt there was little acknowledgement of what Iranian students are going through. When I contacted student services to ask about dropping a course, I explained the situation in Iran and how it was affecting me. One of the responses did not acknowledge what I had shared at all. There was no recognition of the emotional hardship, which was disappointing and made me feel unseen during an already painful time. Overall, it has felt like the burden of navigating this situation has largely fallen on students.
How can/should SFU improve its support for Iranian students during this time? And are there any ways your peers and fellow SFU community members can show up and support you?
Zahra: SFU can help strengthen awareness of the magnitude of the situation within the community by amplifying our voices. Financial and practical support are also essential. Short-term emergency support, clear guidance on available resources, and compassionate academic flexibility would be very helpful. SFU’s collaboration with Iranian students to organize memorial and awareness events (in a safe and respectful way) would mean a great deal.
Peers and community members can support us by listening, sharing credible information responsibly, and showing up for student-led events and memorials. Simple acts, like checking in, offering practical help, and creating inclusive spaces can make a real difference.
I am also working with several Iranian students on building an initiative to support people inside Iran who are facing loss, injury, and serious economic hardship. We would sincerely appreciate any support SFU and the university community can offer to strengthen these efforts.
The Peak reached out to SFU for their response to the petition. “The university recognizes the on-going stress for Iranian international students and for students with family and loved ones in Iran,” SFU stated. “International Services for Students office has reached out to impacted students with resources around academic concessions and financial support and remains committed to ongoing consultation with Iranian student organizations. Impacted students have been advised to apply for bursaries to receive financial support from SFU. Students with immediate financial need can apply for one-time emergency funding through Financial Aid and Awards.” They also noted that academic concessions remain “up to the discretion of individual instructors.” They added, “Students can also contact Student Accounts to discuss their situation and will be provided with supports based on their specific situation.”
For resources on financial assistance and mental health support, visit the SFU Iranian Club’s linktree at www.linktr.ee/sfuiranianclub. Follow @sfuiranian on Instagram for updates.
