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How to Spend A Night at … The Shipyards

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PHOTO: Yasmin Hassan / The Peak

By: Yasmin Hassan, Staff Writer

When the monotonous heat and light of day subside into a warm summer night, where do the people go? One fond memory I have of last summer was spending my Friday nights in North Vancouver’s Lonsdale, immersing myself in The Shipyards Night Market. Coming back this year, it seemed like everyone had the same idea, because it was as bustling as ever! 

Walking into the outdoor space, you’re immediately greeted with the smell of fresh kettle corn and a gentle breeze that pecks your face with crisp sea air. Music surrounds you, whether it’s avidly booming from the main stage in the center, or from the food trucks while you wait in line. Speaking of which, let’s delve into the different delicacies they offered, shall we?

The market has quite a few food trucks to choose from. My friend and I started our culinary journey at Midnight Joe’s, where we got Lil Joe’s, consisting of two sliders and chips, which were perfect for sharing. Next, the sight of tacos from the Tex-Mex food truck Dos Amigos caught our attention, so we ordered three chicken tacos which were incredibly juicy and had the perfect kick of spice. Feeling parched, we embarked on a scavenger hunt for an ice-cold drink, finally finding a lemon-shaped stand that belonged to Lemon Heaven. After refreshing ourselves, we decided to end our savoury escapades with a classic dog from Street Dogs. All the while, songs performed by blues and rock stunner HB Wild were coming from the center stage, providing a groovy soundtrack for our exploration! (P.S. they have different performers every Friday!)

Sitting on the dock of the quay and admiring the people, the water, and the sounds of music playing softly far away, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend a Friday night!”

When it comes to vendors and stalls, you can find almost anything your heart desires: artisanal candles, handmade knick-knacks of all sorts, or even a delicious duck chili oil! They also host the Granville Flea Market, a pop-up vintage and thrifted clothing store. The whole place is chock-filled with rows of all kinds of stuff that is definitely worth checking out. 

One of the most interesting parts was walking through the local pop-up market presented by Made in the 604, which hosts over 50 small business vendors. Inside, we came across stalls like Connie’s Cravings and Cookies by John, both of which offer a variety of baked goods to quell a sweet tooth. Some retail vendors that caught my attention were Luna & Venus and Butterflies in Ballgowns who both offer high-quality, handmade, sustainable fashion pieces. I also found Bahoo Ceramic School and Lethal Lites Candles, each home to the most adorable selection of ceramic pieces and hand-poured soy candles, respectively. If I could, I would get a bit of everything!

A small bag of caramel kettle corn from Gary’s Kettle Corn to finish off the now cool summer evening was all that we needed. Sitting on the dock of the quay and admiring the people, the water, and the sounds of music playing softly far away, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend a Friday night! All of these establishments were open until late — around 10:00 p.m. — so there was plenty of time to enjoy. If you’re like me, looking for amusing places to go during the summer that won’t break the bank, The Shipyards Night Market is the place for you!

I’m running out of ways to explain you should care about others

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ILLUSTRATION: Cliff Ebora / The Peak

By: C Icart, Humour Editor

Content warning: brief mention of genocide and forced labour.

I spend a lot of time in the “Am I the asshole” subreddit, and while I never leave any comments, I always think about my own verdict. One thing that comes to mind while reading posts is that this isn’t the “Am I in the legal right” subreddit — it’s the “Am I the asshole” subreddit. Those are two completely different things. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean it’s not rude, inconsiderate, or selfish. This online community of over 17 million people crowdsources ideas surrounding morality and ethics in our interpersonal relationships. Often, the discussions that emerge serve as a good reminder of the importance of foregrounding an ethic of care in our everyday lives. 

A year and a half ago, I wrote about what we can learn about care from radical disability justice activists. I touched on community care and how getting vaccinated and wearing a mask are examples of this. In a lot of ways, I’m arguing for something similar here. I’m saying our everyday actions are how we live out our politics. Do your daily choices reflect the fact that you care? Wait, do you even care? 

Recently, I re-read Everyday Decolonization: Living a Decolonizing Queer Politics by Sarah Hunt and Cindy Holmes. They draw on stories from their own lives to explore what allyship and decolonization look like in their “partnerships, families, and friendships.” It serves as a great reminder that social justice isn’t this big abstract thing you can only participate in if your name is Bisan or Greta. It’s part of your everyday life. You make choices every single day that reflect your politics. Don’t let anyone convince you that you don’t have agency or that your actions don’t matter. 

We need to bring back accountability and nuance in conversations about how we as individuals are complicit in injustice. The fact that “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” does not mean you should be upgrading your phone every year. Apple unethically sources materials from forced labour in Congo, and frequent upgrades are also environmentally detrimental. The fact that Taylor Swift’s private jet’s 2022 carbon emissions equate to “1,800 times the average human’s annual emissions” does not mean you shouldn’t compost or recycle.

“You make choices every single day that reflect your politics. Don’t let anyone convince you that you don’t have agency or that your actions don’t matter.”

It’s easy to point fingers at people who are harming the planet more than you. It’s easy to point fingers at people who are more bigoted than you. It’s easy to blame capitalism, the patriarchy, and white supremacy. And don’t get me wrong, calling out violence and injustice and understanding systems of power is incredibly important. But have we resorted to doing that so we can avoid looking at ourselves? Have we chosen to do that instead of actively working toward change, liberation, and justice? 

This matters because we can’t build resilient and sustainable communities if our actions do not align with that goal. If we’re four years into the pandemic and you’re not willing to wear a mask because you’re “over it,” what are you willing to sacrifice to save lives? Anti-trans legislation is being pushed across Turtle Island, but you’re not willing to confront your boyfriend who just made a transphobic joke because that would be uncomfortable? Then how strong is your allyship? You understand that there is a humanitarian crisis in Palestine, but the only thing you want to post about is how you don’t think it should’ve been brought up at your convocation? Maybe the gruesome images from this genocide don’t move you enough. 

It doesn’t have to be like this. You can make changes like forfeiting the ability to showcase your lipstick on the bus by wearing a well-fitted respirator so you aren’t part of why someone gets Long COVID. Or, you can skip ordering a 2:00 a.m. large fry from a corporation that supports the Israeli military. Individual decisions to boycott a genocide and support Palestine add up. Even sending $5 or $10 to a mutual aid campaign or taking advantage of the afternoon you have off to attend a rally makes a difference. Sure, some of these things are more accessible than others. There are reasons why someone might need to shop from Amazon or use disposable cutlery, such as accessibility needs or limited affordable options for essentials. But are you just bringing that up to distract from why you’re doing those things? That’s a question only you can answer. 

Deflection is an issue that is rampant in leftist or progressive spaces. I cannot even begin to count the number of folks who have started explaining the concept of food deserts or Indigenous hunting practices once they found out I was vegan. Those people have never lived in a food desert and are not Indigenous. Using other marginalized communities to justify your choices when their issues have nothing to do with your choices is problematic. Also, I didn’t even say you should be vegan — I said the steakhouse you’re suggesting for dinner doesn’t have any menu options for me.

Overall, this isn’t about pointing fingers and labelling people as good or bad. It’s about encouraging introspection — for myself, too. So please, leave the defensiveness at the door, you don’t need it here. When someone asks you to wear a mask, they are not accusing you of being a terrible person. They’re explaining to you a way that you can care for your community. Don’t worry about being perfect or getting it right the first time. Just continue to be open to learning and growth. Please try because you care.

How to spend a day at . . . Granville Island

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A top view of the food section of Granville Island Public Market. Various individuals sit at tables while enjoying food from the stalls surrounding them. Colorful awnings and signage are displayed throughout the space.
PHOTO: Izzy Cheung / The Peak

By: Izzy Cheung, Arts & Culture Editor

With a bustling public market and beautiful views of False Creek, Granville Island is one of the most popular tourist destinations in Vancouver. Even as locals, many of us are still privy to some of the hidden gems that lie within it. From bracelet-making to book-sleuthing, here’s how to spend a day at Granville Island. 

Start your day off by visiting Tru Café, just outside of the island itself. Pick up an iced coffee or pistachio chocolate cookie for the jaunt, or take home a bag of their retail coffee beans. Their Tru blend mixes hints of milk chocolate and marshmallow, so be sure to take some home to use for a pre-class coffee later on. 

Once you’ve gotten your breakfast or morning snack, walk along highway 99 onto Granville Island. Avoid the temptations of The Vancouver Fish Company and turn right, making a stop at Kids Market for some adorable plushies and handcrafted toys. Despite the name, Kids Market is definitely not just for kids — but you can indulge your inner child by visiting them! Find the perfect Pokémon, Kirby, or Sumikko figurines at Token Toys, or take a look at Soumak Boutique for handmade robes and keffiyehs

PHOTO: Izzy Cheung / The Peak

Outside of Kids Market is a play area that overlooks a duck pond decorated with swooping trees straight out of a Studio Ghibli film. I recommend taking some time to sit here and enjoy both your coffee and the view. If you’ve already finished your drink from Tru Café, then you’re in luck — My Island Café is right next to you. Try their gluten free almond chocolate cookie or a slice of their red velvet loaf. 

Wander into the next market section and explore local storefronts hosting as many small businesses as you can name. Kingsmill Studio Pottery Shop is home to amber striped dishes by Vin Arora, mugs crafted by The Poplar Studio, and ornate masks and murals by Bob Kingsmill. At Nooroongji Books, you’ll encounter stories blossoming from a variety of cultures, as well as specialty events such as their Nooroongji Book Club, which will be hosting a talk on Mohsin Hamid’s How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia on June 28. 

PHOTO: Izzy Cheung / The Peak

Before heading towards the public market, be sure to stop by Beadworks, a jewellery shop that hosts the perfect activity for you to enjoy with loved ones. Here, shoppers can pick from the store’s variety of beads and string them together to create their own bracelets and necklaces. 

PHOTO: Izzy Cheung / The Peak

We’ve made it to the part that will have you making the most difficult decision yet — where to eat! Granville Island’s Public Market is no stranger to good food and good views, so once you’ve figured out what you’re craving, take a seat near the docks and watch live performances by buskers. On my journey, I enjoyed a chicken pot pie from A La Mode, as well as some beef and pork tacos from La Tortilleria. If you’re craving a sweet treat, I recommend grabbing a pastry from Laurelle’s Fine Foods or a specialty iced tea from Granville Island Tea Company.

PHOTO: Izzy Cheung / The Peak

To end the day, you’re going to want to peruse the intricate art of the many studios on the island. Take a stroll around Federation Gallery to see wispy brushstroke landscape, cityscape, and oceanscape paintings. Admire the “steel, wire, and stone” sculptures of Dominic Benhura on display at Ukama Gallery. Find the blooming, colourful art of the Northwest Coast at Inukshuk Gallery, which operates as part of Gallery Indigena

Regardless of the shops, eateries, or galleries you visit, you’re sure to have a great time celebrating local cultures at Granville Island!  

Sitting in the dark because these motion sensor lights are pissing me off

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Person wearing a red hoodie sitting in the dark in front of a tablet.
PHOTO: Christina Morillo / Pexels

By: C Icart, Humour Editor

This year marks the fourth time SFU ranks number one in so-called Canada for innovation, and if this is what innovation looks like, I don’t want it. God invented light switches for a reason. That reason is so I don’t have to start waving my arms like a Titanic survivor stranded at sea when I am suddenly plunged into complete darkness in the School of Communication Lab.

The lights aren’t broke; I am. So, stop taking my tuition to fund these motion-activated lights that don’t even detect my motion unless I do the Macarena three times, followed by the Cha Cha Slide. You’re not an Apple watch; you can’t get me to stand on command (yes, this joke only works if we suspend our disbelief for a second and pretend we actually stand up when our watches scream at us). 

Sorry, the grammar police entered the chat, so let me try that again. The lights aren’t broken; the doors to most bathroom stalls in the AQ are. Years of playing Twister still haven’t prepared me for the challenge of doing my business while holding the door. Also, I’m 5’2 and can barely reach. Stop investing in the lights and start investing in the locks.

You know what? I don’t even need light! Most of these Harbour Centre rooms don’t even have windows, and it’s OK. Humanity survived the “Dark Ages” before, and I will survive them again. I will sit in the dark like the monster hiding under your bed. 

ALSO (that’s right, I’m not done), real innovation would be SFU fixing the alarm in the Lab. You have to punch in a code to get inside, yet the alarm still goes off when you open the door. It doesn’t make any sense. I will not be treated like a trespasser in my own home. Once, it rang for so long, I became one with the shrill noise. I synced my heartbeat to it and everything. It was an experience. 

If this is all part of a social experiment to see how much students will tolerate before they transfer to another university, then challenge accepted. I keep getting those Loop earplug ads anyway, and I’ve been meaning to work on my night vision. Alternatively, SFU can get its rear in gear and fix this mess. Then, maybe next year, it will be included in the “list of universities people actually want to attend.” 

What Grinds Our Gears: Not wrapping gifts

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A gift box wrapped in green paper with a twine bow tie.
PHOTO: Erica Marsland Huynh / Unsplash

By: Michelle Young, Copy Editor

Before you say anything — I’m not talking about wrapping gifts in cheap plastic that creates landfill waste, as I swore off buying this kind of wrapping paper years ago. However, I don’t think sustainability should be an excuse to never wrap anything ever. 

There are multiple ways to wrap gifts and decorate in an eco-friendly fashion: recyclable paper, dried flowers, reusable ribbons. You can even delve into the Japanese art of furoshiki and use fabric! Part of giving and receiving gifts is the joy of opening something and being surprised by what’s inside. I’m not a huge gift person, but in a way, the wrapping is part of the gift itself. It shows you put time and effort into wrapping your present (no matter how it turned out) just so the receiver can tear it open. 

When I receive a gift in a dusty shipping box which tells me exactly where this is coming from, it dampens the surprise of opening it. To solely give me a trinket without its wrapping removes the suspense factor. That’s not to say I’m ungrateful, but with no wrapping I don’t have the time to try and act curious and excited! It’s just straight disappointment.

Horoscopes July 1–7

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An illustration of a girl, stars and astrological signs strewn in her hair.
ILLUSTRATION: Marissa Ouyang / The Peak

By: Michelle Young, Copy Editor

Aries
March 21–April 1
Isekai this, isekai that. Everything you own is isekai because you deeply relate to boring protagonists with no personality, and use manga for wish fulfilment. I promise if you were thrown into another world, you would die instantly and five beautiful women would not fall in love with you.

Taurus
April 20–May 20
Not to sound like every person who has ever seen your collection, but keeping all your manga  bagged does not entirely prevent yellowing. You are committed to making your shelves look like a store, and every time you pick up anything, it is loud and crinkly. Don’t worry; I support your decision to store your manga however you want! However, I do have a tip: try sleeves.

Gemini
May 21–June 20
You love that sweet, sweet shoujo (with a splash of josei). You are dedicated. You have the Tokyopop version and Collector’s edition of Fruits Basket, the full set of Nana, Kimi ni Todoke, and the bilingual and Japanese volumes of Chihayafuru. Friendship and romance are your favourite things to read about because they fulfill the unmet emotional needs in your reality. Also, you are sick of no one realizing Skip to Loafer is a seinen

Cancer
June 21–July 22
You are the devil, and Gemini’s worst enemy. You have a giant and basic collection of shounen that you accumulated in one month. You haven’t read any of it, and it is all the same as everyone else: Naruto, Attack on Titan, Spy x Family, and Chainsaw Man. You ask people to “give you recommendations” based on your collection, but you have no taste. You also have no idea what demographics are, and think they are genres instead (not all shoujo is romance, and you probably hate women!). 

Leo
July 23–August 22
Leo, bless your soul. You’re a newbie collector and everything confuses you. You don’t understand demographics either and you are overly paranoid about “fakes,” despite only purchasing from licensed distributors. No, your One Piece isn’t fake — it’s just poor quality control. 

Virgo
August 23–September 22
You are a dedicated yuri fan. You buy Japanese volumes before they are even licensed in English and will violently defend Bloom Into You and The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn’t a Guy at All to anyone who critiques them. This is probably because you cannot work up the courage to ask out a girl yourself! I admire how you proudly flaunt your love for Citrus (despite it being trash), but I highly recommend you read something by Milk Morinaga

Libra
September 23–October 22
You are a mess. You have been collecting for years, and still have no shelves. There are like 300 volumes in your office, and somehow you’ve managed to stack them all on top of each other. You are either oblivious to the fact that this could damage the spines, or you don’t care. Clearly, you haven’t read anything in years because who would when they are stored like that? 

Scorpio
October 23–November 21
Ah, Scorpio. Did you think I was going to compliment you for your “non-basic” taste? Wrong. You’re not much better than Cancer — seinen is your bread and butter. You are pretentious as hell and love almost anything by Inio Asano, but refuse to expand your taste outside of “philosophical” manga. Also, you most definitely have a figurine collection of Rei Ayanami.  

Sagittarius
November 22–December 21
Sagittarius, you are actually so cute. You have a very balanced and mixed manga collection, and your shelf is filled with miscellaneous plushies and figurines. I don’t know how you read anything with so many things blocking your manga, but I do know you could write an essay on queer representation in Sailor Moon — I see your HaruMichi shrine on the top shelf. 

Capricorn
December 22–January 19
You are god because you have the full English set of Mushishi. You also probably found it at a random, rural bookstore for a ridiculously low price. Now the whole manga community hates you because the rest of us will probably never run into a seller who doesn’t know the value of what they’re selling. 

Aquarius
January 20–February 18 
I thought Sagittarius was bad, but you are so much worse with your little anime girl figurines. They are blocking the view of your entire shelf, and I can’t see anything. I don’t even know how you dust them without knocking everything over. Most of your figure collection is just Homura Akemi. Call me when you need to sell everything because you are desperate for money. 

Pisces
February 19–March 20
You are still deeply and emotionally connected to the manga from your teen years. You have the full set of Haikyuu!! and reading it always makes you cry. You were also obsessed with Free! when it aired in 2013 (of course you were; it’s a swimming anime), and naturally collected the light novel it was based on. This also makes you cry. 

A tour of Rooted: Dining Commons’ inventive Indigenous food menu

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A piece of toasty bannock topped with lettuce, black beans, corn, and spicy mayo. Closer to the camera is a mahogany-coloured chicken drumstick and a serving of pasta in a red sauce with ground bison.
PHOTO: Courtesy of Izzy Cheung / The Peak

By: Izzy Cheung, Arts & Culture Editor

For National Indigenous Peoples’ Day on June 21, SFU Dining Commons put the spotlight on Rooted. This menu, which is available in rotation all year long,  puts out delicious, Indigenous-inspired dishes created by Teetl’it Gwich’in chef Steph Baryluk. Following its debut last year, the program has continued to release mouthwatering renditions of pasta, tacos, and desserts, seven of which I had the pleasure of trying. 

Here’s a tour of these dishes rooted in Indigenous ingredients and inspiration.

Duck taco with charred corn salsa 

The dats’an (Teetl’it Gwich’in word for duck) tacos were the perfect mix of creamy, salty, and crisp. Small pieces of crusted duck with a salty umami flavour were placed on top of small beds of crunchy lettuce. A light layer of spicy mayo on top gave these little delicacies an added element of creaminess that completed the meal. 

Three sisters soup 

“The story of the three sisters (corn, squash, beans) is one of helping each other and protecting each other during growth,” chef Baryluk said in a statement. These three sisters refer to three plants that grow together when planted side by side. This dish, combining a medley of hearty vegetables, had a slight spice to the broth that would be perfect to indulge in during the snowy winter. 

Habanero candied salmon salad 

Salmon is important to Indigenous cultures as it is said to “give you positive energy and strength when consumed.” This candied salmon certainly fulfilled that promise, as it was by far the star of this dish. Sitting atop a bed of lively greens, the tuk (Teetl’it Gwich’in term for fish) was the perfect balance of salty and sweet. There was a tinge of spice to the sauce that hovered, not wanting to strike the taste buds right away. However, when it did hit, it wasn’t overpowering at all. 

“The fluffy bannock was the perfect base for the fresh, slightly spiced, and nutty taste profile delivered by this dish.”

Bison dhandaii nilii pasta and juniper berry rubbed chicken with blackberry BBQ sauce 

The Teetl’it Gwich’in phrase “dhandaii” is “tastes good” and “nilii” means “meat.” After having a bite of this dish, I definitely agree with its name. The bison meat gave the sauce a needed level of depth that reminded me of Italian bolognese with a slightly meatier flavour. On the same plate, I grabbed a piece of the tsiivii ch’ok (Teetl’it Gwich’in word for juniper berry) rubbed chicken, which had a surface-level sweetness to it that enhanced the flavour of the chicken itself.  

Bannock taco 

Tuhch’uh, which is the Teetl’it Gwich’in word for bannock, is a versatile staple that can take any taste profile that you’d like it to depending on what you top it with. A doughy, bread-like item, bannock is part of many Indigenous cuisines around Turtle Island. Rooted debuted their bannock taco on June 21 — it was stuffed with a light succotash and topped with hot sauce from Indigenous brand Sriracha Revolver. The fluffy bannock was the perfect base for the fresh, slightly spiced, and nutty taste profile delivered by this dish. 

Smoked juniper cherry jam cheesecake mousse 

This delicious dish was the perfect dessert to end off a spread of sumptuous goods. With a rich, panna cotta-like cream and tangy cherry jam from Tradish, this dessert was the perfect mix of sweet and slightly sour. Juniper berries have long been used “for ceremonial, medicinal, and culinary purposes” by Indigenous Peoples. While this tangy-yet-creamy dish tastes delicious, the ingredients used in this jam also help with “chest congestion, sore throat, cough, and mucus build up” — talk about a healthy dessert! 

Inside the UBC encampment for Palestine

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An Illustration of the encampment.
ILLUSTRATION: Aliya Nourlan / The Peak

By: Anonymous SFU Student

As of writing, 58 days have passed since the encampment at UBC began. Despite our united front, we still struggle to achieve our goals: demanding that UBC divests, academically sever ties with Israeli universities, and condemn the genocide in occupied Palestinian territories. Similar demands from SFU students have occurred recently. While SFU doesn’t have an encampment yet, students and faculty have intervened at convocations and occupied the downtown library to demand divestment. Both UBC and SFU need to understand the urgency of divesting from companies complicit in the Palestinian genocide, and listen to the voices of their students and community. I come into this space as a student, empathetic toward Palestinian people’s fight for their freedom, shaped by my South East Asian heritage and the legacy of colonization. Many of my comrades are united by similar experiences of oppression.

This isn’t the first time an effort for UBC to divest from problematic institutions has happened. Back in the early 2010s, the fossil fuel divestment protest was just starting. These protests lasted several years and were led by student groups like Climate Justice UBC (then called UBCC350) and faculty members, continuously pushing UBC to divest from fossil fuel companies. It wasn’t until 2019 when UBC finally committed to divest — it took them nearly a decade. Similarly, at SFU, it took years of work from student groups like SFU 350 for SFU to finally declare a climate emergency and later divest from fossil fuels. Unfortunately, the history of UBC’s slow action to enact student demands means the current encampment will likely take longer than the almost two months it has stood. However, continuous support for Palestine gives hope for the encampment to keep moving forward.

This made me think for quite some time, especially about why people continue to show up and hold down the camp after so many hardships. 

The UBC encampment for Palestine has been going strong since April 29. Working as a horizontal organizational structure, the encampment is a leaderless, non-hierarchical space where everyone is equal. We have groups in charge of different tents related to the daily operation of the camp, including food, safety, supply, medicine, art, and library. General meetings are held as frequently as possible and are the only platform to decide the goals of the encampment. It is a process of direct democracy where everyone’s voice is heard and considered, with final decisions being made based on majority votes. 

Everyone who shows up to this camp is intelligent, kind, and capable of doing great things, however, we are humans, and deep down, we all seek a sense of belonging. This whole encampment is like a community, and within it, each tent is part of the group. However, it did not always feel like a cohesive community. Before the camp reached this structure, it was run by multiple “invisible” hierarchies.

This encampment makes me hopeful about a future where people can afford to contribute in their own meaningful ways.

Initially, there were instances where outgoing white, cisgender, and conventionally-attractive men were automatically assumed to be smart, reliable, and worthy to make decisions, while non-conforming and marginalized individuals had to work harder to be acknowledged. I don’t think this was done purposely, but can be attributed to the mixture of pressure at the encampment and  the unconscious biases ingrained in colonial ideologies. The constant struggle to have all our voices heard caused tension in the supposedly democratic structure, as well as relationship mistrust in the camp. This was not what I and a lot of comrades expected from this space, where solidarity with Palestinians against colonization demands democratic practice and decentralized decision-making. 

As a young, gender-non-conforming person of color, my voice was often overshadowed in favour of white, cisgender campers. We took time to acknowledge and address these biases and hierarchical structures and we came up with alternative ways to ensure every voice was heard. I believe our camp is being managed in a more inclusive way, moving toward good causes, rather than replicating oppressive systems.

I acknowledge it’s hard to be trusting and welcoming when comrades don’t even know each other’s real names — we use camp names to protect our private identity. More so, we are under constant surveillance from UBC and the RCMP, but trust and hope are the elements that keep this encampment together. 

It doesn’t mean we stop practicing security culture. It’s vital to be self-aware and follow safety protocols, such as not engaging with cops and agitators, and having a dedicated media liaison. However, there is a saying at the camp: We keep us safe.” My way to build trust has been working at different tents, getting to know different comrades, and observing their behaviors. Over time, trust and relationships are formed. 

When I forgot to go to work one afternoon while I was at the encampment, I was so worried at first, but then relief came, because the encampment is a solidarity movement and addresses the basic needs our institutions are supposed to handle. This includes food, shelter, supplies, and medicines, all coming from community donations. 

We welcome visitors who are food insecure and/or unhoused. In exchange, campers offer their labor, time, commitment, and protection to the community. We have space for nurturing relationships, reading, doing art, hosting teach-in sessions on Palestinian resistance and cinema, playing music, and do not contribute to the capitalistic systems actively funding genocide and oppressing Palestinian people. 

I believe our camp is being managed in a more inclusive way, moving toward good causes, rather than replicating oppressive systems.

Ever since I joined the encampment, I’ve asked every new comrade I’ve met on shifts whether they’re a Zoë or a Zelda. The Zoë and Zelda theory, invented by the creator of my favourite show BoJack Horseman, is about two twin sisters with completely different personalities. Zoë is the serious, cautious, and sometimes cynical person who prefers quiet activities like reading and tends to avoid big crowds. On the other hand, Zelda embodies outgoing, optimistic, and energetic individuals who enjoy social activities and are full of life. 

Everyone gave interesting answers to this question. Some are optimistic, lifting the spirits of fellow protestors and smoothing out the high-stake environment we are all in, the Zeldas that reignite our hope. Others are more like Zoës: cautious, patient, and have keen critical thinking and conflict resolution skills. However, no matter how serious or cynical some people are, everyone in this encampment brings hope that we are fighting against oppressive systems, that we are fighting the good fight.

This encampment makes me hopeful about a future where people can afford to contribute in their own meaningful ways. There are those who are making sacrifices to stand for their beliefs, for what they consider righteous. Others come and contribute to the encampment just by showing up in solidarity with the protestors. I acknowledge that for me, being able to volunteer at the encampment is a privilege. Policing people for not being able to join the encampment is not fair, considering we come from different walks of life.

We are trying our best here, and I’m proud of all my beautiful comrades for what we’ve been fighting for. Our demands for UBC are clear: disclose, divest, and cut ties with Israeli universities that are complicit, as well as condemn this genocide. We demand UBC stop the RCMP’s intimidation and surveillance of their students. This should not end here, I hope in the future we can demand UBC fully fund tuition for Palestinian students.

The carbon tax is the least of our economic problems

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A yellow car driving down a winding road with dollar signs coming out the exhaust pipe.
ILLUSTRATION: Victoria Xi / The Peak

By: Kaja Antic, Staff Writer

As the effects of climate change grow increasingly dangerous each year, the Canadian government introduced a federal carbon tax in 2018 to decrease emissions, with BC being the first to introduce this policy in 2008. Discussions about the tax’s efficacy have increased as the next federal election draws near. However, the cost is minimal in comparison to the benefits of reducing our collective carbon footprint, especially considering that the largest emitters are transportation and fossil fuel corporations.

The carbon tax is a percentage added to purchases that emit greenhouse gases, like gas for your car or natural gas heating for your house. Canada’s current carbon tax is $80 per tonne of carbon emissions. It’s intended to increase by $15 yearly until 2030. The up-front cost of emitting excess carbon is meant to incentivize a gradual move toward clean energy for producers and consumers. 

The consequences of climate change can end up costing much more in the long run than a few cents per litre of gas. If there are little to no changes to emissions and climate policies, the effects could cost Canada up to $5.5 trillion by the end of the 21st century. The carbon tax produces significant results. In a study of countries that have adopted the carbon tax, they found it decreased emissions by 15%.

Current debates about the carbon tax have gone beyond disagreement with the cost itself. The Conservative Party of Canada claims carbon tax regulations are greatly impacting the national cost of living — including rising grocery prices. While gas prices are rising along with the general cost of living across the country, the carbon tax itself is not the cause of economic strife. It may be an inconvenience for the average person, but reducing emissions will ultimately benefit everyone. 

The consequences of climate change can end up costing much more in the long run than a few cents per litre of gas.

The same cannot be said for the extreme price-gouging seen in the housing market, grocery costs, and telecommunications monopolies. Eliminating the carbon tax won’t address the country’s widespread affordability crisis — campaigns revolving around this rhetoric are a distraction. The fixation on the carbon tax neglects policies that could benefit Canadians more, rather than just corporate interests. 

Currently, I drive a car with a 40 litre gas tank. If I fill that up from empty, I pay around $7 in carbon tax from that one stop. I know my experience isn’t the same as everyone else in Canada. Ford F-150 models in the 2020s vary from 23 gallon (87 litre) gas tanks to 36 gallon (136 litre) tanks, depending on the specifications chosen. On the lower end, that’s $15.32 per fill-up from empty in BC. On the higher end, it’s $23.95 per fill-up from empty. While that number isn’t negligible, gas prices are surging due to corporate price-gouging and supply chain issues, not the carbon tax alone. Canada’s affordability crisis is really what we should be paying attention to, and addressing it would make the carbon tax feel much more manageable. 

The carbon tax also impacts major emitters more than the average consumer, as individuals and small businesses benefit from tax credits. In BC, the provincial government has its own automatic climate action tax credit to help residents offset the carbon tax cost, with a similar rebate available to small business owners. According to the Government of Canada, around 90% of carbon tax proceeds “go right back to individuals.” The tax has more implications for corporate entities, and rightfully so — those leading in emissions rates should be expected to lead the transition to clean energy. 

While the carbon tax is a good step toward sustainability, that’s not to say there isn’t still work to be done to limit emissions across the country. The federal government has recently announced an emissions cap for the oil and gas industry, limiting how much pollutants corporations are allowed to produce. This is another step toward holding major emitters accountable.

It’s understandable to view another tax as a bad thing, though it truly is in our best interests. While it’s important to address the rising cost of living in this country, the carbon tax is not a major culprit. Protecting the climate and reducing emissions can also help prevent further hardships for those living in Canada. Compared to major contributors to the current cost of living, the carbon tax is not a heavy burden on our wallets. Concerns about it are nothing more than a distraction from taking genuine action against the affordability crisis.

SFU Woodward’s Cultural Programs ends amid budget cuts

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This is a photo of the outside of the Woodward’s Cultural Programming building downtown Vancouver.
PHOTO: Aria Amirmoini / The Peak

By: Hannah Fraser, News Writer

SFU’s recent ongoing layoffs have impacted “nearly 100 employees, including instructors, administrative support staff, and custodial workers across all three campuses,” according to the Simon Fraser Student Society (SFSS). Following the layoffs, the Woodward’s Cultural Programs were cut after 15 years of running. The program’s website was taken down on June 19.

Since 2010, the programs have been “involved with over 200 events each year, focusing on contemporary arts, dance, theatre, cinema, and music.” They were once described as “a catalyst for the creation of new work,” where the Woodwards team would commission and facilitate the creation of local workshops, conversations, presentations, screenings, concerts, shows, and more. The program also worked to connect SFU students from the School of Contemporary Arts to local creatives and artists.  

“The opening of the venues and facilities at the SFU downtown campus, specifically the Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre and The Djavad Mowafaghian Cinema and World Art Centre, offered such great engagement opportunities,” said Jim Smith, in an interview with The Peak. Smith is a co-founder and artistic and executive director for DanceHouse, who used the Woodward’s locations to co-present shows. 

“The university had positioned these venues to bring the School of Contemporary Arts down off Burnaby Mountain to allow for the integration of the program into the local professional arts scene, literally and figuratively,” continued Smith. He noted these venues added important venue capacity in Vancouver, especially as the city’s venue space has been steadily shrinking

Smith told Stir that he found the end of Woodward’s programming “infuriating” and that “it’s hard to see it washed away in a single stroke.” 

“It’s really unfortunate, when you think about the work and investment of Michael [Boucher]’s personal effort, and all the people and resources that SFU put into building the community presence in that campus,” he continued. Boucher was the director of Cultural Programs and Partnerships at SFU Woodward’s. 

Boucher told The Georgia Straight he was proud of the cultural engagement that came from the program. “We thank all of our longstanding collaborators who contributed enormously and also hats off to my great team.”

“SFU has a responsibility to its community not only as an educational institution but also as a cultural and economic center in BC.” — Simon Fraser Student Society

Closing Woodward’s Cultural Programs was not the only community space SFU closed this year. The English Language Culture Program, Interpretation & Translation Program, and the Climbing Wall were also closed. 

SFU cited financial hardships for its recent cutbacks, “estimating an annual deficit totalling $20.9 million for the 2023–24 fiscal year, with that number rising to an estimated $49.9 million during the 2024–25 fiscal year.” 

The SFSS stated employee “layoffs are not just numbers on a balance sheet; they represent a significant erosion of the support structures that enhance our learning environment.

SFU has a responsibility to its community not only as an educational institution but also as a cultural and economic center in BC.” However, the statement continued, “Cutting positions and programs [ . . . ] significantly diminishes SFU’s ability to fulfill this role.”

SFU noted in a statement to The Peak, “Many SFU departments, programs, and individuals have strong collaborations with the arts and culture sector.” While the program has ended, the “performance spaces remain available for use by arts organizations.” 

SFU also noted the discontinuation of funding for the program “enables us to refocus and strengthen support with arts organizations in the city through use of our venues and continued partnership with other parts of the organization, such as the Vancity Office of Community Engagement, School for Contemporary Arts, SFU Galleries, or individual faculty members and scholars.”

This is an ongoing story The Peak will continue to cover.