Throwback Thursday: SFSS Fall Kickoff
As the semester comes to a close, here’s a quick look back at one of the bigger events that kicked off our school year.
Created by Brandon Hillier
Remembering the Children of Air India
From her early beginnings as an undergraduate, BC poet Renée Sarojini Saklikar’s journey began much like that of many in the arts: hard work compelled by nothing but passion.
Saklikar earned a BA in English Literature and, in the late 80s, an LLB at UBC. She then began working with “three remarkable people at SFU”: Jerry Zaslove, Stephen Duguid and Michael Manley-Casimir. It was here at SFU that Saklikar began planting her own artistic seed, studying social justice, the humanities, and education programming.
Years later, she has tended to that seed and it has grown into a collection of poems, offering a revealing commentary on one of Canadian society’s most traumatic events. Children of Air India: un/authorized exhibits and interjections is Saklikar’s first work, and judging by the packed room at its launch at SFU Woodward’s Campus, the poems have touched many.
After her time at SFU’s The Writer’s Studio in 2009, Saklikar discovered the words to describe her intimate connection to Canada’s traumatic history. With the loss of her aunt and uncle, who were among the passengers during the bombing of Air India Flight 182, Saklikar looked further into the event’s details to make sense of it all.
Of her research on the subject, Saklikar remembers two things distinctly, “[Firstly], the persistent haunting of the voices of those 82 children under the age of 13 who died in the bombing; and secondly, the discovery that the bomb was developed and tested in the woods outside a beloved heritage country: Paldi, BC, located near Duncan on Vancouver Island.”
The poems are based on — and contain excerpts from — actual records and the resulting work is artistically haunting and unsettling to read, as if the reader is privy to very private material.
Having learned that her home was so closely tied to Flight 182, the 82 children “spoke” to Saklikar and compelled her to write an ode to them in a way that is close to her heart: poetry. The poems are based on — and contain excerpts from — actual records and the resulting work is artistically haunting and unsettling to read, as if the reader is privy to very private material.
She says that “[a] kind of aphasia descends in contemplating [the poems].”
To Saklikar, the action of breath is essential to reading poetry, how it connects to rhythms, sounds, and the beats of lines. In the case of her book, breathing plays a critical role in allowing the reader to feel the raw emotion of the bombing of Flight 182.
“If we think of the breath as related to a poetic line, then in this book length sequence, the breath wrote itself out, jagged, interrupted, curtailed, compressed at time, and, at other times, strung out, disconnected, disintegrated,” she says.
In the tightly packed room of the launch, it was as if our own breathing synced with Saklikar’s as she spoke passionately about her writing process. Saklikar says that talking and writing about the experience made her realize how truly important sound was in the exploration of trauma. “The deeper I ventured into the Air India archive, the more sound became paramount, rather than meaning: through that process of listening, I jettisoned many earlier iterations of the work.”
Drafts and drafts later, the premiere of Children of Air India, in her home province, is certainly an experience all on its own, bringing up memories of inspiration for Saklikar. “The influences I channel come from all over. The Fraser River is a muse, for sure, having grown up in New Westminster. Also, the fact that I take Skytrain everywhere . . . what comes through are the sound and rhythm-motion of the train, the inside architecture of the individual cars, the way the body experiences a journey on the line, east to west and back again.”
Student athletes deserve pay
Does the name Andrew Wiggins ring a bell? If not, it should.
He is the new main attraction in NCAA college basketball, and he is Canadian. Last month, not only was he featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated alongside Kansas legends Wilt Chamberlain and Danny Manning, but he was also the lead story for ESPN The Magazine’s college hoops preview, and had a photo shoot with GQ Magazine.
Due to NCAA regulations, he has done all of this advertising without earning any compensation in return.
Recently, there has been some discussion regarding whether or not college athletes should be paid while they are in school. A common argument is, “They’re already getting a scholarship! That’s more than anybody else!”
However, a scholarship doesn’t necessarily equal cash in a player’s pocket. Let’s look at how much a scholarship is actually worth.
Without athletes, we wouldn’t have millions of fans buying tickets for games.
On average, a full Division 1 scholarship is $25,000 per year. That’s $100,000 over four years. This may seem like a lot of money, but it really only covers the basics. It covers thousands of dollars in university fees, tuition, housing, a meal-plan, and multiple hundred-dollar textbooks.
Contrary to what naysayers believe, being a student-athlete is a full-time job. Being a NCAA student athlete myself, on a typical day, I will wake up before classes, get to the gym at 6:15 a.m., practice from 7:00 to 9:00 a.m., try to get an extra weight or conditioning session in two to three times a week, go to class, have individual sessions with my coaches, watch films of practices or games and then study for my classes. On top of this, I work.
However, once the season starts up, I can’t have a job anymore. Every two weeks, we are on the road from Wednesday until Sunday. Sometimes we are gone for two straight weeks if we make playoffs. The professors let us do our work from the road, but my job isn’t going to pay me just because I was playing basketball on a road trip.
Even though the athletes make no money, the NCAA basketball tournaments, or “March Madness,” have become a huge business. As Forbes’ Chris Smith wrote, CBS and Turner Broadcasting make more than $1 billion off these student games — due in part to 30-second advertisement spots costing $700,000 during the Final Four.
Athletic conferences, as well, receive millions of dollars in payouts from the NCAA when their teams advance deep into the tournament. Same goes for the coaches of the final squads standing. The NCAA, as a whole, makes approximately $6 billion annually.
Contrary to what naysayers believe, being a student-athlete is a full-time job.
People should ask themselves, who generates this excitement? The players. And they are not allowed to receive anything from the billion dollars they generate every year while they risk career-ending injuries every time they step onto the court, field, or rink.
Why shouldn’t collegiate student athletes be paid? The billions of dollars that collegiate athletics generates would be non-existent without them, on the field or on the court, performing and entertaining millions of college sports fans. Without athletes, we wouldn’t have millions of fans buying tickets for games, or people buying sports gear, jerseys, and video games, usually bearing the likenesses, and often the autographs of their favorite college players.
We should re-evaluate the system as a whole. The main purpose to play NCAA sports used to be to get a good education. Now, elite prospects like Andrew Wiggins go to school for one year and make the jump to the NBA. What if an amateur league existed in which the players would get compensated, alongside the NCAA league, in which students could play college sports without missing on an education?
Until then, college athletes are just like all other hard working people, who should receive a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work.
Dave Johnson relieved of duties
The year 2013 was supposed to be the season it all came together for the Clan football team. Despite a promising 2–0 start to the campaign, the team laboured to a 3–7 record; on Tuesday, SFU Athletics announced they were letting head coach Dave Johnson go, as well as members of his coaching staff, including defensive coordinator, James Colzie III.
Johnson spent seven years at the helm of the football program, but struggled to find wins. In those seven seasons, Johnson compiled an 18–46 record overall, including a 12–29 record since joining the National Collegiate Athletic Association in 2009.
“After carefully reviewing all aspects of our football program, we have decided it is time to seek a new leader for Clan football that will achieve the goals we have set for the program,” said Milt Richards, SFU’s senior director of athletics and recreation in a press release.
“I want to thank coach Johnson, his family and his entire staff for all of their hard work. We all wish him and his family the best as they begin the next chapter of their life,” he finished.
Looking at wins alone, the move may not come as a complete surprise, but Johnson was a players’ coach who managed to keep the locker room in good spirits despite the on-field struggles. His players, who were informed of his dismissal via email, were shocked, and were vocal in their opinions of the matter.
“Clearly someone isn’t thinking about the program when he fired all the coaches,” said Dylan Roper, a defensive end who finished his Clan career this season. Roper wasn’t alone in his sentiments.
“They fired the whole coaching staff? You gotta be kidding me smfh,” tweeted running back Chris Tolbert, who finished third in the Great Northwest Athletic Conference in rushing.
In another tweet, the Great Northwest Athletic Conference (GNAC) newcomer of the year added, “Honestly don’t even know the AD [Milt Richards] but he obviously doesn’t care about us or this program either.”
Tolbert, along with quarterback Ryan Stanford, were among a slew of newcomers who were poised to lead the Clan offense that last season led the GNAC. But injuries to Stanford and superstar wide receiver Lemar Durant derailed the Clan’s early season momentum, and Johnson was unable to find a way to get it back as SFU stumbled toward the season’s finish line.
Colzie III, meanwhile, was brought in to fix a defense that had perennially been at the basement of the GNAC rankings. However, the Clan’s defense also stumbled after a hot start, and finished second last in the conference, giving up over 425 yards a game.
Four years removed from their first foray into the NCAA, the Clan was expected to make significant steps forward. They had finally begun to attract star players on both sides of the ball, and were coming off a breakout year where they upset a number of teams. But in a year that had so much promise — and was even highlighted by nine players earning all-conference honours — it was Johnson and his staff’s inability to deliver that, fair or not, ultimately cost them their jobs.
Sweet Symphony
The SFU men’s soccer team took to the pitch on Friday, in near-freezing Denver, CO weather to face off against the University of California-San Diego Tritons. The winner of the game was to be crowned the NCAA Div. II West Region champion, and would punch their ticket to the final three rounds of the tournament.
Trailing 1–0 late, three minutes from a heartbreaking end to their season, the SFU men’s soccer team orchestrated a comeback in the dying minutes to eke out a win — and a trip to the Elite Eight.
The Clan entered the game with 69 goals on the year, leading the entire NCAA Div. II. But the Tritons, who had scored just 27 goals on the season, potted the game’s first goal. In the 26th minute, Triton Alessandro Canale fired a shot past SFU keeper Brandon Watson, forcing the Clan to play catch-up for the rest of the game.
SFU’s attack came in waves, outshooting UCSD by a 2–1 margin, but the Clan couldn’t find the back of the net. As time ticked away, it looked like the Sweet 16 would be the end of the road for the Clan. But in the 87th minute, Jovan Blagojevic fired home a ball off a throw-in to knot the game at one apiece.
Blagojevic is making a name for himself by scoring big goals. Earlier this month, he scored a double overtime goal to clinch the Clan’s spot in the tournament and win the Great Northwest Athletic Conference. This goal saved the Clan’s season — but he wasn’t the only hero on the night.
After 90 minutes of regulation ran down, the two teams were headed for Golden Goal overtime. The two 10-minute halves were representative of the game as a whole: the Clan got most of the shots, but couldn’t bury their opponent. After 110 minutes of play, the West Region champion would be determined by penalty kicks.
The shootout wasn’t for the faint of heart. The teams traded goals, posts, and saves, and after the first five shooters, everything was even at three goals apiece. In the sudden-death sixth round, UCSD’s Will Plesko pushed his shot wide left, setting the stage for SFU’s Jules Chopin to clinch the win for the Clan.
Chopin stepped up to the proverbial podium, and fired a shot low to the left corner that got behind Triton keeper Josh Cohen. And just like that, the Clan, off the foot of Chopin, had advanced to the Elite Eight, and were crowned West Region champions for the second straight year.
SFU has had its fair share of dramatic victories this year. From Blagojevic’s goal against Seattle Pacific to win the conference, to Basso’s own double overtime goal in the round of 32, and now this, the Clan are playing memorable soccer. But, the biggest moments of the season are still to come.
Alleviating fear through education
Coming out three years ago was one of the most terrifying yet satisfying experiences of my life. The ability to express one’s identity with confidence and joy to the world is what I consider the ultimate freedom for an individual. Living in a city like Vancouver — usually regarded as a liberal and gay-friendly metropolis — it is not difficult to feel safe and recognized most of the time, in the same ways that I imagine a heterosexual person does.
Growing up however, I moved around a lot due to my Dad’s career. A couple of years into elementary school, the Spice Girls dominated the pop charts, and became an important topic of conversation on the playground. Seeing the young boy fighting with the girls over who got to play which Spice Girl had my homeroom teacher worried. I vividly remember my father that evening insisting that my girly toys be removed from the storage box. This was the first time I had ever felt like my Dad was ashamed of me.
The idea that a teen’s identity issues can be dealt with through song is not accurate.
By high school, I was used to feeling like the outsider; the days were rare when I was not attacked verbally or found my locker decorated with homophobic slurs. Fear kept me closeted throughout my teens.
Not once during my childhood did I read any books or watch any television programs that showed anyone other than straight people being treated fairly in a classroom setting. Being unable to see anyone like myself represented in my education of the world led me to fear that there was no one else like me.
Acting to the best of my abilities like the other kids ensured some level of security. Moving away from the small town that I grew up in for university provided me access to the community I needed to establish my identity as a gay man.
Even though the media landscape directed at youths today offers representation of teens identifying outside of heterosexuality, these images are not cohesive with the actual experiences of youth in elementary and high schools across the country. The idea that a teen’s identity issues can be dealt with through song, or that a young gay teen can go from a bullied, closeted kid, to an emblem of the LGBT community, is not an accurate vision of men and women who must decode and place themselves within the straight world.
In high school, the days were rare when I was not attacked verbally.
Instead of encouraging the ideal that waiting through grade school in fear is the solution to youth identity problems, one solution should be including comprehensive gender education programs in elementary schools. These would focus on preventing homophobic, transphobic, and heterosexist oppression at younger ages, thereby instilling a sense of pride in identities in the same ways that heterosexuality is honoured.
Efforts of such education have been made in BC with the passing of policy 5.45 in Burnaby in 2011, which provides legislation to combat homophobia and heterosexism in schools through increased knowledge of those defining outside of the heterosexual norm.
However, starting education at an earlier age of those who are not heterosexual would likely reduce the discrimination caused by silencing questioning youth.
Vancouver may offer a safe environment to an extent in presenting oneself as a gay person, but fear remains in many situations, which do not incite the same trepidation for heterosexuals. Non-heterosexual people must survey their settings prior to holding a partner’s hand or stealing a kiss. Fear could be eliminated entirely if these were actions we were accustomed to seeing all people as free to perform, whether in liberal Vancouver or a small-town in Alberta.










