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Brighter Side: Custom work playlists

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A barista in a bright yellow shirt pouring coffee behind a counter.
PHOTO: Azhar khairi / Unsplash

By: Peter Runn, SFU Student

Something I appreciate about working for a small local coffee shop is we’re allowed to play whatever music we want. Unlike the corporate-stocked playlists mandated by most retail chains, at least my employer understands not having Benson Boone serenade from the ceiling 20 times a shift boosts employee morale. As long as explicit music is filtered out, my coworkers and I get to decide exactly what we want to treat our ears to. We have custom playlists we share with each other to enlighten our music tastes. If we feel like listening to Lorde’s entire discography, an eighthour shift is the perfect opportunity to do so.

Baristas tend to have superior music taste, so our selection also increases customer satisfaction. There was that one time we got a negative review because, “It’s difficult to enjoy my latte when Sean Paul is blasting in my ears,” so my boss banned Sean Paul. Easy! I get to find out who the cool customers are when they comment on the unexpected music — or catch them shazaming it (the most mortifying thing you could be caught doing in the modern era). Music is a much better conversation starter than, “I heard it’s going to rain next week.”

I can handle being yelled at by a customer for their “no ice iced latte” not being cold enough when I can dissociate to Nemahsis or Sampha. My playlist is an ever-expanding mixture of everything from hidden gems to familiar hits that unlock forgotten memories, from all corners of the (listenable) genre spectrum. It makes hustling through a rush or lull much more bearable when I can tune into a variety of music I actually like. And because I’m not constantly listening to radio hits on a loop, I can appreciate some of them and sprinkle them into my playlists. Hot take — Mystical Magical” is not that bad in moderation.

Decolonizing education begins with reimagining

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An Indigenous-designed wooden open-air structure with a triangle roof made with wooden planks and totem pole pillars. Sunlight is entering through the spaces between the spread-out wooden planks in the roof.
PHOTO: Ruth Hartnup / Flickr

By: Zainab Salam, Staff Writer

A decade ago, at a seminar for newcomer youth in downtown Vancouver, an Indigenous speaker shared a powerful observation that stuck with me. He asked us to think about the shape of rooms in buildings, whether it be a hall, a bedroom, or a classroom. He noted how most rooms in buildings are angular, with sharp corners and straight lines. At the time, I hadn’t ever wondered about such a matter. Rooms were just rooms, some rectangular, others square. They were simply places to exist in and to move through.

The speaker went on to explain that Indigenous spaces are often designed to be circular, open, and relational. This helps foster dialogue and community. In contrast, the rigid, closed-off architecture of colonial buildings that dominate our landscapes reflects a worldview rooted in hierarchy and separation. This shows how colonialism is often hidden within the things we take as neutral, and it’s no different with education.

Our current education system is colonial in its design and operation, so much so that we don’t often question what alternatives exist. Eurocentric values prioritize individual achievement, hierarchical authority, and standardized measures of intelligence. Knowledge is treated as a product to be acquired. In curricula, western philosophies are positioned as universal, while Indigenous and non-western ways of knowing are marginalized. Even when diverse perspectives are included, they are often framed as “alternative,” perpetuating the myth that western knowledge is the default

“Decolonial education is not simply the inclusion of Indigenous knowledge within the existing colonial framework of education. It is a transformative shift in how we understand, share, and experience knowledge.”

One of the core colonial landmarks is the imbalanced power dynamic between educators and students. Going back to the idea of rooms, the physical structure of lecture halls reflects a learning model where educators are positioned as authoritative sources of knowledge, while students are passive recipients. But Indigenous worldviews and ways of knowing call for a reciprocal process; one where students, educators, and communities learn from one another. This means a shift from the hierarchy to reciprocity can transform education from a site of passive consumption to one of active co-creation. Indigenous resources like Dr. Shauneen Pete’s “100 Ways: Indigenizing & Decolonizing Academic Programs” in the aboriginal policy studies journal serve as essential resources for education developers. She suggests “circle formats” and “small table groupings” as approaches that encourage dialogue, and emphasizes instructors not expecting Indigenous students to bring up Indigenous topics. This is an unfair burden, and instructors should prepare to catalyze these discussions.

Active engagement in decolonizing education means developing a decolonial consciousness; an awareness of the ways colonialism continues to shape our world and a commitment to dismantling it. Too often, efforts at decolonizing education are reduced to token gestures — passive land acknowledgments — while the underlying colonial structures of education remain unchanged. True decolonial education should go further and dismantle these structures, like, as Pete writes, “reducing the barriers to working with traditional knowledge keepers and Elders.” As well, rather than only having a set Indigenous curricula, professors should “be flexible enough to take up emerging local Indigenous issues as they arise.”

The Sylix Nation of the Okanagan Valley view place-based education as an act of resistance and resurgence, where learning emerges from land, culture, and community. These approaches disrupt the hierarchical and compartmentalized norms of settler education; instead, replacing them with modes of knowing that honour interdependence and ancestral knowledge. According to a publication by FemNorthNet, a feminist research project, decolonial pedagogies also require recognizing how colonialism intersects with race, gender, and power within educational spaces. This means true transformation must address structural inequities and systemic barriers faced by Indigenous teachers and learners. Decolonial education, therefore, is more than just an academic project; it is a pathway to healing. 

The colonial structure of education and its spaces is not an occurrence through happenstance. It is a deliberate legacy of the historical role of universities in promoting settler colonialism. Decolonial education is a call to reimagine learning as a reciprocal process. It is a call to change the way we structure learning. To improve how we learn, what we learn, and where we learn.

2025 SFSS vice-president candidate details concerns around name misspelling

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This is a photo of the SFSS building on a bright, sunny day, where the glass of the building reflects the blue sky and clouds.
PHOTO: Kriti Monga / The Peak

By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer

Vaibhav Babbar, who also goes by Vee, spoke with The Peak after his lingering concerns about the election were brought to the paper’s attention by an anonymous source. 

Babbar, who served as one of the associate vice-presidents of events and student affairs during the 2024/25 term, ran in this year’s election cycle but was not elected by a margin of 88 votes. He said issues around his platform commenced before the election took place. At the candidate debate, his nickname was incorrectly spelled “Veer.” At this point in the election, the mistake “was fine because I reached out to [the SFSS] and they apologized,” he said. “But then they did the same thing again in the polling ballot itself. It was supposed to be ‘Vaibhav,’ and they did ‘Viabhav,’” with the “I” and “A” switched.

“I sent them an email regarding this, and the email was ignored, and after the election, I raised concerns about this, and they just apologized,” Babbar said. “But obviously, you need to fix that right away while the election is going on, not after elections.” He also noted some of his friends did not recognize his name on the ballot. When he explained his friends’ confusion to the SFSS, they said Babbar’s friends should have recognized him as there was only one candidate beginning with a V. 

“It didn’t feel like an acknowledgement of their mistake. It just felt like they’re trying to defend their position,” he said.

“It’s a big election, it’s a major university election in BC and it’s the whole student society — not a club, not a union — the whole student society.” — Vaibhav (Vee) Babbar, 2025/26 candidate

Babbar also raised concerns about the voting system used for the election, a topic The Peak reported on earlier this year. While individuals were able to cast more than one vote by switching browsers or using incognito mode, The Peak previously reported that “the election system has safeguards in place to ensure that each student gets only one counted vote,” according to the SFSS and the Independent Electoral Commission.

When Babbar asked for proof that illegitimate votes had been removed, the SFSS told him they could not release the raw, unfiltered polling data.

The Peak reached out to the Independent Electoral Commission for additional comment, but did not hear back by the publication deadline. SFSS also informed The Peak that they were unable to comment at the time of the article.

At the time this piece was published, the SFSS has no plans to run a re-election.

Easy udon for when the executive isn’t functioning

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ILLUSTRATION: A warm bowl of Udon noodles, with cut tofu slices and vegetables (carrots, green onion) near the bowl
ILLUSTRATION: Cassandra Nguyen / The Peak

By: Noah Jozic, SFU Student

A dear friend shared this recipe with me, knowing I was struggling to cook regularly because of mental health challenges. This super easy udon is her go-to when she is low on energy. I could see it was effective right away — when she first made it for me, she had been eating udon all week! Now, whenever I’m brought down by executive dysfunction, depression, or other barriers that keep me from getting in the kitchen, I keep her recipe to heart as a reliable, convenient, and healthy meal option.

A few features make this udon stand out as a low-barrier meal:

  1. Easy prep, on impulse

This udon can be prepared at a moment’s notice, using long-lasting ingredients. The easiest version, featured below, uses tofu and frozen veggies. It’s a great option if you worry that your produce will only go rotten after a bad week, or if you prefer a consistent meal plan. If you need novelty to feel good about eating, you can always vary each batch with fresh and preserved ingredients: sesame seeds, wakame seaweed, bonito flakes, mushrooms, green onions, leafy greens would all work with this recipe. Greens could be the usual spinach or kale, but my friend has even used nettles foraged from Burnaby Lake!

Many of these ingredients require no chopping, and most only need to be heated through before serving.

  1. The right soup base

A delicious store-bought soup base makes the difference between this recipe and other quick soups I’ve tried. My friend introduced me to Kikkoman’s Hon Tsuyu soup base, available at T&T, which has a lovely smoky flavour straight out of the bottle. If you can’t find that soup base, feel free to swap it over to either miso paste or a vegan alternative. Do keep in mind that Hon Tsuyu and miso may contain fish.

  1. Single-servings, and the right pot

Personally, I prefer a single-serving option because it makes the meal fresh every time. A surprising game-changer for me was buying a small saucepan to make this recipe. Before, the thought of using and washing a big pot was daunting enough to keep me from cooking. My gadget of choice is a Zwilling one-litre pot from HomeSense. It has a nice, heavy base, and the brand is a personal favourite, so I’m always happy to bring it out. However, as I say this, feel free to choose any cookware that will feel good to you!

RECIPE

4 tablespoons Hon Tsuyu soup base (or an alternative, like miso)
500 ml water
1 packet udon noodles
Tofu, to taste
Frozen vegetables, to taste (eg. cauliflower, broccoli, carrot blend)

1. Add the soup base and water to a small pot. Bring to a boil.
2. Add noodles to the pot.
3. Slice or cube tofu. Next, stir the soup gently to untangle the noodles, then add tofu and vegetables.
4. Simmer for around five minutes until all ingredients are hot. Make sure the noodles have cooked for at least as long as the package indicates.
5. Enjoy!

Personal reflections on the launch of Elegy for Opportunity

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This is a cover of Natalie Lim’s book, Elegy for Opportunity
PHOTO: Courtesy of Buckrider Books and Wolsak & Wynn

By: Alex Traynor, SFU Student

On May 10, I ventured down to SFU Harbour Center in Vancouver for the first time to attend the official book launch for Elegy for Opportunity, written by the award-winning poet and SFU English alum Natalie Lim. I knew I couldn’t miss the event as soon as I read the question Lim explores in her work: “How do we go on living and loving in a time of overlapping crises?” As someone grappling with the philosophical dread of how I can continue functioning as if nothing is wrong in the world, I hoped Lim’s poetry would provide some insight and validation. I wasn’t disappointed.

Upon arrival, I quickly realized that this event was more than a celebration of Lim’s debut book. It was a testament to her profound impact on a vibrant and connected community. The room was packed, the energy warm and uplifting. Friends, family, colleagues, fellow writers, and academics filled every seat, eager to celebrate the esteemed poet and her work. The event opened with Mallory Tater, a four-time author and lecturer at UBC’s School of Creative Writing, who described Lim’s poetry as an expression of community kindness. This simple description resonated with me, and became evident as I read her works. Despite feeling a distinct lack of community during my time at SFU, this event gave me a glimpse of what a supportive creative circle looks like. I’ve generally felt helpless in finding any semblance of community since becoming an adult, watching neoliberalism invade social reactions — encouraging individualism, isolation, and meritocracy. In a political and economic climate where it’s everyone for themselves, building strong communities is a direct act of resistance to the systems that benefit off of us feeling detached. 

Stephen Collis, the chair of SFU’s English department, took the stage next. He recounted reading Lim’s first ever published poem arrhythmia, a piece that explores her identity as a Chinese Canadian, and how it impressed him so much that he encouraged its publication. She would go on to win the CBC Poetry Prize for the piece in 2018. Following Collis, Isabella Wang, author of Pebble Swing, read a poem dedicated to Lim, referencing a line from arrhythmia to connect their shared experiences. The tribute was emotional, making it clear that the afternoon was as much about celebrating Lim’s work as it was about honouring her connection to those around her. Lim’s long-time friend and Vancouver-based poet Tina Do also shared a piece written for her that left Lim in tears. By then, I’d already decided to buy a copy of Elegy for Opportunity. I had promised myself to engage with more art this year, and the authenticity and vulnerability of Lim’s prose felt like the kind of art I needed to support. 

Elegy for Opportunity intertwines love poems with tributes for the deceased NASA space rover Opportunity. After being overtaken by a sandstorm on Mars in 2018, the robot’s 15 year service to human scientific research came to an end. Lim was struck by the collective mourning for this machine that had been programmed for the very purpose of permanent exile — this paradox spoke to her about humanity’s capacity for love and grief. Initially titled Everyone I Love is Now, Lim’s love poems in the collection explore love in its multifaceted nature, including familial love, companionate love, love for environment, and even love for non-living objects, like that we reserve for machines. During the discussion and Q&A facilitated by Mallory Taylor, Lim spoke about the duality of love and grief, describing how grief can deepen our understanding of love, especially in those moments when love seems most fragile. Before reading the first poem in her book Love Poems Don’t Win Contests, she shared how self-doubt almost kept her from publishing work that felt too vulnerable. But in the end, Lim chose to lean into that discomfort, allowing her rawest, most honest reflections to emerge. 

For Lim, Elegy for Opportunity is a book for this particular moment in time, a time marked by fear, loss, and uncertainty — all the while eliciting endless moments of connection and tenderness. Created during the start of COVID-19, Lim grappled with how joy and connection can blossom in times of lockdown, and how young people increasingly fear the future due to climate crises, active genocides, and threat of facism. Despite such bleakness, the resilience of the human spirit is undeniable, and I love how this book illustrates the tumultuous burden and joy of the human experience in this age. 

I feel honoured to have been in that room and to have experienced those couple hours. The event reminded me that paying attention to space and time by allowing yourself to be fully present in the moment comes with the most rewarding results.

SFU student versus campus construction: Installment 2

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ILLUSTRATIONS: Small illustrations of traffic cones (two variations) and construction workers to place around the borders of the photos.
ILLUSTRATION: Noah Jozic / The Peak
Small illustrations of caution tape and construction ladders to place around the borders of the photos.
PHOTO: Mason Mattu / The Peak
Small illustrations of caution tape and construction ladders to place around the borders of the photos.
PHOTO: Mason Mattu / The Peak

Political Cartoon: Carney gives into Trump

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politcal cartoon
CARTOON: Cliff Ebora / The Peak

By: Cliff Ebora / The Peak

#NotClueless: I, like, totally attended the Met Gala

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A confident girl standing in front of a closed Hudson’s Bay location. She’s wearing oversized clothing and birkenstocks.
PHOTO: Prerita Garg / The Peak

By: Zainab Salam, Influencer of Influencers

Today, I have to start with a confession; I was totally buggin’. Because, like, can you even imagine being personally invited to the Met Gala? Well, I could. Not to brag, but your girl over here scored a highly exclusive, VIPPP platinum ticket to the Met Gala last week. Let me tell you all about it. #LongCaptionIncominggggggg

It all began when I received a super exclusive DM from a brand that I’ve been dying to work with. And no, I’m not telling anyone the name ‘cause Y’ALL BASIC. They wanted me to attend the Met Gala as their brand ambassador. I mean, hello? As if I would ever pass up the opportunity to be photographed in my totally vintage (second-hand) dress while casually standing next to Anna Wintour. What’s next? Be on the cover of Vogue? #TotallyGoingToWriteThisInMyManifestationDiary #It’sTotallyGonnaHappen #YourGirlyIsAModel 

The theme this year? Liquidation. So avant-garde, right? I was obsessed. I thought, what better than to represent the BC every day girly, than wearing Aritiza? TNA is everything the Met Gala stands for: class, style, and a dash of mall-culture nostalgia. 

Anyway, I show up, and right away I’m thinking, wow, they really went all out with the aesthetic. Polished floors stretched endlessly, like some kind of chic runway. Mannequins are half-dressed in couture that stands dramatically under harsh fluorescent spotlights, which I assumed was a bold commentary on the fickleness of fashion. Yeah, people, my English courses came in a clutch! 

There was even an escalator that wasn’t moving — clearly a metaphor for the struggle of ascending the fashion world. I was, like, totally, living for the immersive experience. I sauntered through the exhibits, which included racks of designer labels, heavily discounted by the way. I assumed it was part of the evening’s theme: liquidation. How revolutionary! 

I mean, the whole thing was so authentic. Bargain bins? Stunning. Bold “Everything Must Go!” banners? Genius. And the fashion? Unbelievable. People were walking out with the oversized shopping bags, really committing to the whole liquidation theme. I was like, this is why the Met Gala is ICONIC! 

I wandered around, spotting other celebrities, SOOO many fashion seniors were there. I was like, OMG, is that a retired supermodel or the dead grandma from Up

Of course, I did what any iconic Met Gala guest would do — I started networking. It’s the fashion business after all. You’re a nobody if you don’t know somebody! I leaned over to this one lady in an oversized fur coat (a bold choice for liquidation chic, might I add), and I was like, “So, who are you wearing?” She gave me this weird look and whispered, “Clearance rack, aisle three.” The dedication to the theme was inspiring. Another guest was clutching a garment so fiercely. The haute couture world is vicious! 

The event staff was nowhere to be seen. So discreet. So minimalist. They got their NDAs on lock down. 

You guys don’t understand, the vibes were gorgeous. They made me feel like a true icon that evening. Like, Bella Hadid? Who dat?? 

And, to all of my #haters who were mean in the comments. Tryna hate on me, saying, “You’ll never be famous enough to be invited to anything!” Ya’ll can suck it! I said I will be famous. And here I am, F.A.M.O.U.S.. 

TTYL, catch ya’ll on my next adventure. I just know it’s going to be buzzworthy. #Influencer #BCRepresentation #FeelsLikeADream #WAP

Updated 2 hours later: 

To everyone saying I didn’t go to the Met Gala, and that it was actually a Hudson’s Bay, y’all are haters! I don’t pay attention to haters. #Unbothered #IAmAnIcon #VeryDemure #KylieJennerMakeupTrendTagForLikes #PleaseViral #F4F #NigerianPrinceNeeded

And to all of my fans, love you guys. Don’t forget to smile.

From the campus to the big screen: SFU student film goes global

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a raven
IMAGE: Courtesy of Kitty Cheung, Patricia Sugiarta, Brent Waldbillig, and Rania Abdulaziz

By: Ashima Shukla, Staff Writer

What started as a class project has since turned into a creative awakening for Kitty Cheung, SFU alum and former Peak staff. Bringing together poetry, live action, and illustration, the short film Ad Hominem 2 is a bold act of creative resistance on many levels. Using SFU lecturer Chantal Gibson’s poem Add Hominem, this film perfectly encapsulates the quiet discomfort of complicity. 

Starring Claret Egwim-Nwagbara, the film spans across multiple SFU campuses, with scenic shots punctuated by hand-drawn illustrations — a metaphoric graffiti defacing colonial symbols — to the rhythm of Gibson’s words. These animations, painstakingly drawn frame by frame, intervene and disrupt our colonial history without erasing it. Instead, they guide the eye to interrogate the symbols we take for granted at SFU and across Metro Vancouver. As Cheung told The Peak, the animations and typography were inspired by historical colonial illustrations, co-opted to visualize not just rage but also the scribbled and wild form of the poem itself. 

As a viewer, the film’s cohesiveness is a testament to the deeply collaborative process of its making. As Cheung explained, each of her teammates brought unique strengths to this project. While Rania Abdulaziz was in charge of the illustrations, Brent Waldbillig focused on sound design and Patricia Sugiarta and Cheung herself worked on editing. “All four of us have filmed shots that ended up in the final film,” Cheung said. From creating the storyboard and compiling shotlists, to incorporating feedback from their classmates, the film is a product of true teamwork. 

Originally created as a coursework for IAT 344 (Moving Images), the film’s visual inventiveness caught the eye of curators and judges across the globe. It has been accepted into several film international festivals, including ZEBRA Poetry Film Festival in Germany, Drumshanbo Written Word Poetry Film Competition in Ireland, Living With Buildings – VI in the UK, Midwest Video Poetry Fest in the USA, alongside a screening at the Vancouver Public Library Poetry Month Video Poems

Cheung realised that the making of this film has allowed her to resist the “voice of capitalist society” that says “you need a proper, stable job.” 

Cheung credited the “the incredibly helpful” guidance of mentors in achieving this outreach and recognition. Dr. Kate Hennessy, the instructor of IAT 344, offered encouragement and practical insight into creating festival submission packages. Also of importance to the work was Vancouver’s 2022–24 Poet Laureate Fiona Tinwei Lam, who helped the team navigate the process of adapting a poem into cinema over multiple drafts. In this, Chantal Gibson herself was consulted early on, “to make sure our interpretations were faithful to what she was intending.” As Cheung said, “We were being careful and respectful around this conversation on colonialism, regarding my position as a filmmaker living and studying on unceded lands, and attending this university named after a colonizer.” 

Upon receiving the first acceptance from Ireland, Cheung recalled, “I opened my email and just jumped out of my chair.” Aspiring to be an artist since she was a child, Cheung realized the making of this film has allowed her to resist “this voice of capitalist society” that says “you need a proper, stable job.” Cheung confessed that discovering such worldwide awareness was “encouraging,” and motivated her to continue creating. 

“To know that my existence [and] my ability to live in Metro Vancouver — while I am incredibly grateful to live here — is made possible through colonization and genocide and horrible violence is heavy,” Cheung reflected. However, to her, this is part of a “continual conversation to keep having.” Currently working on a new poetry collection inspired by Vancouver’s Chinatown and her own experience growing up among the East Asian diaspora, Cheung continues to interrogate identity, loss, belonging, and memory in her creative work. But like many emerging artists, she also finds herself negotiating the tension between passion and pressure — “the reality is, I do need a job.” However, Cheung is hopeful of finding a balance between life and work that also enables her to continue creating. 

To other creatives who are also driven to make something, Cheung quoted Doechii’s post-Grammys instagram live, “Just try things.” She explained, “I found it really encouraging because it is so simple.” To every artist out there striving for change, she wanted to pass on a message: “Put your work out there because you never know what might happen. You might win a Grammy, you might get accepted into international film festivals! Who knows? Just try it. Allow yourself the time and space and resources to pursue your dreams.”

Friends of Simon: building community through education

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ILLUSTRATION: A classroom filled with students grouped around a tutor
ILLUSTRATION: Cassandra Nguyen / The Peak

By: Phone Min Thant, Arts & Culture Editor

The author of this article is a Friends of Simon tutor. Following The Peak’s conflict of interest policy, the piece’s payment has been reduced. 

“It’s the best job I’ve ever done,” Teagan Leong began as she described her experiences as a tutor for Friends of Simon. If you are affiliated with the SFU faculty of education, that name might ring a bell.

Friends of Simon — or FOS, as it’s more commonly called — is an award-winning tutoring project endorsed by the SFU faculty of education, bridging the gap between SFU students and the K-12 education scene in the Lower Mainland. I spoke to Leong and a few fellow tutors, asking them to share their personal stories of their times at FOS. I also got to speak with Amrit Cojocaru, the program coordinator, to learn more about the history of FOS, its functions, and its significance in the wider SFU and education communities.

Cojocaru described FOS as a tutoring and employment project, fully funded by donors such as United Way BC, with some support from SFU. “As an employment project, we hire undergraduate students at SFU and employ and train them to become tutors to work with newcomer refugee students in a K-12 setting.” FOS began as a pilot tutoring project 19 years ago, envisioned by Paul Shaker, a former dean of the faculty of education. Cojocaru said that since then, FOS has employed around 950 tutors from SFU and worked with over 5,700 students from schools in the Lower Mainland. As she described the program’s history, Cojocaru highlighted the importance of the program’s coordinators, including Angela Flumerfelt and Kanwal Neel, who have been supervising its operations since a few years after inception. 

“The work of Friends of Simon is when the tutor meets the student, and all of our administrative work goes towards that priority,” Cojocaru said. She noted how, when working with students and families who are still learning English, it’s important to “think about intention and impact.” When asked to describe her experiences as a coordinator, Cojocaru said, “It’s soul food for me.” 

Friends of Simon is an award-winning tutoring project endorsed by the SFU faculty of education, bridging the gap between SFU students and the K-12 education scene in the Lower Mainland. 

The tutors themselves were more than enthusiastic to share their stories. Leong described a typical tutoring session after school: a question of the day, homework and worksheet time, and literacy activities, which are designed to improve the student’s literacy skills while keeping them engaged. Leong, who joined the program to gain hands-on experience in education, added, “I met a lot of new people through this program with similar interests of my own, careerwise.” Having started only last September, she said, “I was really nervous but ultimately all the tutors are all really helpful and are willing to give you tips,” referring especially to the guidance provided by lead tutors, an essential part of everyday life at FOS. “Just being able to make a difference in the lives of young kids is really important to me, and FOS definitely makes that possible.” When asked to reflect on her experiences in one word, Leong chose: rewarding. 

Mattea Cifrek and Christopher Sit, two lead tutors who have been at FOS for over a year each, added their experiences to the mix. Sit described FOS as “a no-barriers program, so everything is free for the students who join, we don’t reject students, we don’t turn down anyone.” Sit described FOS as slightly different from a common tutoring program. “Whenever we mention what a tutor is, people have an idea that it’s a very one-on-one sit-down with them.” Sit added, “I think we are that but also a lot more than that. The idea is to provide tutoring but also a place to be.” Cifrek described it as providing “a safe space” for newcomer students after school. Cifrek mentioned that when working with other tutors, despite their differences, they share the same goal of “creating a positive and welcoming environment.” Lead tutors play a crucial role in coordinating daily plans for FOS’ sessions. As both Sit and Cirfek explained, lead tutors set semesterly schedules, assign tasks, consult with teams, write reports, and organize roundtable talks to gather feedback on issues like classroom management. Chris also said his experiences were “rewarding,” while Mattea similarly opted for “fulfilling.”

A key in FOS’ significance to SFU and the local education scene is its ability to build a community. While the program achieves this aim on a daily basis, the annual field trips to SFU really showcase the spirit of the community. I talked to Sunnie Kim, Elise Chan, and Dominion Sam, co-organizers of this year’s trip, to briefly comment on the significance of these events. “We want students to see themselves in university, or post-secondary institutions in the future because many of them are newcomers.” Chan added that exposing students to seeing their tutors in their own element on campus is a big reason why these field trips happen. Sam also said these field trips “are a way to celebrate the last two semesters of tutoring” and “just enjoy being with each other.”

Kim spoke to the impact of last year’s field trip: “having 16 schools altogether with all these students from different places, it just felt like it was just coming together and celebrating that we are a big community.” From a collaboration with the SFU women’s soccer team to the pizza lunch, the trip was full of meaningful moments. Kim had one particular memory, “When I saw my high school site, I could tell they were wearing their best outfits, they were talking about university and going to SFU — it was a lot of inspiring moments.” Chan agreed with Kim, saying that both tutors and students had a lot of fun. “I was a newcomer four years ago, I came here when I was in grade 11. I actually wish I could [have been] at FOS and got to experience the field trip.” 

With such testimonies, it was no wonder then that when asked to choose one word to describe FOS, Cojocaru went for “community” — several other members holding similar views. The good news is that this community of tutors and educators is always hiring, so give @sfu_fos a follow on Instagram and stay tuned for more hiring drives.