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It’s time that we rethink the necessity of exams in classrooms

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Three students at a table writing an exam. The student on the left and right are campy writing while the student in the middle has stood up onto the table and lit their exam on fire.
Midterms aren’t as scary as you think. Illustration: Maple Sukontasukkul/The Peak

By: Madeleine Chan, Staff Writer

SFU recently announced that the final exam schedule for all classes will be released in October, rather than at enrollment. The change hopes to reduce course conflicts, back-to-back exams, and same-day exams. However, it also adds to student stress about asynchronous scheduling, non-school-related plans, and an overall uncertain future. Growing concerns around proctor software and cheating show that there is no easy solution for remote-learning examinations. Even SFU is saying that they prefer other methods of assessment over proctored exams. So, why do we still have them if they are such a burden? The fact that there are viable alternatives to timed, closed-book examinations shows why exams should no longer be given at all.

The point of exams is to test students’ knowledge and information retention. But are students really showcasing their best abilities when they are faced with such anxiety inducing situations? I cannot tell you a single thing about the last exam I took, because all I remember is being under incredible pressure to study hard for it, to manage my time wisely in the exam, to have the right answers, and to not be the last one out of the class. Not to mention the Sauron-like eye of the teacher beaming down on me, ready to “catch” me for any potential misstep. Something that produces such overwhelming stress and fractured focus seems like a fundamentally flawed way to assess students. Just the very idea of the recurring dreaded melancholy around exam season should be enough to see that exams are a detriment to our mental health.

Exams are also a hollow way of ensuring that students actually comprehend the materials they are learning about. Students don’t need to be regurgitating information, they need to be able to actually comprehend the subject matter and be able to apply it in an at-large context. The binary idea of answers either being right or wrong limits students’ creativity and thinking skills. In addition, the idea that exams are a way to measure students against each other is just a meritocratic ideal that sees learning as a way to get a job, not a complex process of engaging with themselves, the world, and others. We shouldn’t be insisting on assessments that promote these ideas if we want our quality of learning to be at its best.

Exams do have the potential to instill skills like time management and discipline, but this is not the case for all students. People with anxiety and attention difficulties can’t simply “learn” to focus or keep calm in a stressful situation. Even students who don’t struggle with these issues can still feel an immense amount of strenuous pressure while managing their focus and time effectively. This necessarily syphons mental energy away from course materials and produces results that don’t accurately reflect student knowledge or ability.

Exams are particularly harmful now with all learning done online. There are added stressors of unreliable technology, video call anxieties, changing physical environments, and surveillance software that have changed how students interact with learning. Instructors cannot expect to deliver examinations in the same way if students cannot react to them in the same way as before. Remote learning has only highlighted the fact that exams are more trouble than they are worth.

I agree that with academia’s current credentialist system there has to be some way of testing student knowledge, but that could take shape in so many other ways than an hours-long stress bath with your classmates. Assignments like untimed essays, final projects, and even papers can be less stressful and more pleasant than exams. Creative projects, for example a video, or a zine, in particular are a great way to creatively and interestingly engage with course materials. I remember a final assessment that I had over a year ago, where I had fun making a 3D collage that explored the course’s themes. I still remember that project and its material today.

Not every course can just assign one of these alternatives though, and there is no one-size-fits-all replacement. But we have to at least consider alternatives to testing students’ knowledge so that learning and assessing can be something interesting to engage with, effective and comprehensive, and not a burden for students to stress over.

We cannot risk becoming complacent with the presence of COVID-19 in our lives

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Fighting COVID-19 requires us all to make sound decisions as a community. Photo: pixpoetry/Unsplash

By: Nicole Magas, Opinions Editor

In a July 6 open letter to both the federal and provincial governments, several current and former health experts pleaded for a more rapid and relaxed reopening plan that would resume in-person classes, allow for more international air travel, and pick the economy back up. The basis of their argument comes down to the idea that since we can’t eliminate COVID-19 in Canada at present, we might as well just accept it and get on with our lives. 

Although the letter recognizes the severity of COVID-19 and makes several mentions to risk-based pandemic response measures, it stops just short of outright saying that many more people are going to die, and we should, as a society, give up on those people and focus on getting as closely back to “normal” as possible. The thought process leading up to this conclusion, no matter how well-intentioned, doesn’t adequately account for the difficulties health officials and politicians continue to have in communicating the nuances of COVID-19 prevention to the general public. 

But more than that, this idea, in very defeatist terms, simply accepts that people are going to die. No loss of life should be an acceptable loss of life in a civilized society, and as long as there are steps that could be taken to prevent losing more people to this virus, those steps should be taken to the point of utter exhaustion of all other options.

The open letter calls on politicians to consider the harm that strict and prolonged quarantine measures are doing to children and marginalized communities. However, the fundamental rhetoric of both the letter and the statement published alongside it is alarmingly similar to that of plutocratic Republicans in the US. Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick infamously told Fox News that the elderly should be prepared to sacrifice themselves in order to save the economy. This sentiment is echoed in the open letter which states, “ [ . . . ] in overall population health terms COVID-19’s direct impact on premature mortality is small. While those under the age of 60 account for 65% of cases, they represent just 3% of deaths. With ready access to health services, severe outcomes can be averted in those who do not have pre-existing risk factors.” 

In other words, young, healthy people don’t need to worry so much because their risk of death is much lower than that of the elderly or those with underlying health conditions. Setting aside for a moment that this language seems to accept that the larger risk of COVID-19 deaths amongst certain populations is acceptable, this language abstracts that 3% of deaths from living, breathing humans into a statistical number. This is unacceptable

The letter does make reference to the incredible disparities that have been highlighted and exacerbated because of the necessary lock-down measures implemented to curb the spread of COVID-19. “The societal costs of maintaining these public health measures, even with some gradual relaxation, are too high,” the statement reads. “Canadians are missing scheduled medical appointments and surgeries, which will lead to increased deaths. There are significant challenges for our young with impact on early childhood development, one of the strongest predictors of life-long health and social outcomes.  Education is compromised. There are increases in domestic violence, alcohol and drug intake, and food insecurity.” And of course: “The economic consequences are huge.” 

The open letter also specifically mentions the marginalized communities that are at greater economic risk during lock-down, saying, “The current and proposed measures for reopening will continue to disproportionately impact lower income groups, Black and other racialized groups, recent immigrants to Canada, Indigenous peoples and other populations.”

To its credit, the statement released with the open letter does include recommendations that are meant to address both a more relaxed opening plan, and protections for the most vulnerable in society. The problem with these recommendations comes down to structural stagnation and human behaviour.

Our marginalized communities weren’t well-sheltered from the negative impacts of the social determinants of health to begin with — those circumstances won’t change whether or not our immediate reopening is less cautious or restrictive. These communities will still be in a situation of few choices, especially where it comes to access to healthcare, community resources, and risk-reduced employment. 

Any relaxed reopening plan that wishes to both shelter the marginalized as well as return life to normal would need a huge draw of capital and resources to allow those at risk to avoid dangerous situations, as well as to enforce safe, equitable environments in both the public and the private sectors. Expecting that governments will be willing and able to universally respond to long-standing structural inequalities with the rapidity necessary to meet the reopening speed the open letter seems to be pushing for is ridiculously optimistic. A more relaxed reopening schedule, without increased structural supports, would do little more for those at the margins than throw them from the frying pan into the fire. 

As for human behaviour, if the last four months have shown us nothing else, it’s that as a society we are anything but unified in how we should conduct ourselves during a pandemic. “COVID parties” amongst those who don’t believe the disease exists or, if they do, don’t believe it is that serious, are a growing problem, not only in the US, but in Canada as well. In BC, possible exposure to the virus has already been identified in bars, strip clubs, fitness clubs, and resorts. Unwillingness to wear a mask also remains a problem in Canada, despite the statement’s assertion that Canadians are too scared to resume normal activities with current government rhetoric about the virus. 

A public policy change that recommends people shouldn’t be as concerned as they are now about the virus would almost certainly have negative consequences. Not only will virus-deniers be vindicated, but it could kick off wide-spread belief that all danger has passed, and that further “balanced” health measures as suggested in the open letter, are no longer necessary. Don’t believe me? Take a look at your social media feed and tell me that everyone is going to collectively agree to suddenly make responsible choices if they’re told that it’s fine to stop being so scared of this virus.

What is more than clear is that any solution out of this pandemic cannot be one-size-fits-all. The open letter also recognizes this fact. However, it is foolish to push for a more relaxed, rapid reopening without thoroughly considering the consequences of doing so. There are many options available to us in how we combat this virus going forward. And in every choice we make we have to consider that human lives are the consequence. 

We might be in for a marathon with COVID-19, but we shouldn’t look at how far behind we are and conclude that it’s not worth the effort to run anymore.

 

Romanticizing bad habits only makes them worse

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There are better ways to be a student than what is normalized in the media. Illustration by Reslus/The Peak

By: Madeleine Chan, Staff Writer

Ah yes, the stereotypical university student: eating ramen from the bag, macaroni and cheese from the box, pulling all-nighters every night, drinking ‘till dawn, glorifying sadness. Ain’t it the life? No, it’s not. Far from it actually. In fact, the potential long-term consequences like chronic disease show that we shouldn’t be positioning this “lifestyle” as anything but a detriment to our well-being. 

As a kid, staying up late was always the “cool” thing to do. It was an exclusive privilege that only adults and older kids got to have. Now, having multiple issues with sleep and focus, it’s not so cool. Sure, I get a laugh from calling it “sleepy bitch disease,” but that doesn’t mean I should.

Things like going to bed late, eating irregularly, and excessive drinking are just a few bad university habits I can name. These types of bad habits shouldn’t be idealized as normal because of their potential long-term effects. According to the Canadian Centre on Substance Use and Addiction, heavy drinking amongst university students can lead to “significant cognitive, structural and functional brain changes” on top of “potential health issues such as liver disease or cancer.” Other studies show that bad eating habits in university can “persist throughout adulthood” — even something as simple as skipping breakfast could have negative consequences. Plus, low-quality sleep increases the risk of mental health issues and can hinder biological development.

This concept of the university student who prioritizes the demands of school or social life over well-being is quite frankly, wack. For example, the notion that an all-nighter is necessary in university to succeed is so out of line with what our bodies and minds actually need to thrive in school. Social and entertainment media have led students to believe that this is how they should behave. By glamourising these habits with moody vibes, baggy eyes, and coffee grinds, students also push the idea that these things are actually desired. However, they really should not be if the consequences are mental and physical degradation.

University students should instead be idealizing good habits, like getting adequate sleep, confronting unpleasant emotions, and eating what their bodies need, when they need it. By getting in the habit of seeing good habits as good, students focus on the positives of well-being rather than the “glory” of harmful habits. Imagine rewarding yourself with actual positivity instead of highlighting the negatives of a destructive routine.

I’m not trying to be your parent and chastise you for not going to bed on time, but thinking that these bad habits are somehow ideal is actually far from it. Positioning suffering as an aesthetic only keeps it from being resolved, making it an internal battle. It also invalidates the fight against these bad habits and keeps people in a state of struggle by making them a part of one’s personality, vocabulary, and just the overall self. Brushing off any confrontation of this inner conflict with nonchalance (like I often do with a vague gesture and a noncommittal noise) only serves to avoid addressing this inner conflict by dismissing potential resolution. It’s okay to laugh at yourself, but something as important as the continued disfunction of your life isn’t funny. We can’t romanticize avoiding reality, no matter how hard it is.

 

House of Rice: In Rice-olation illuminates the intersectional and political scope of digital drag

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Set to the tune of Rina Sawayama, House of Rice performed with a strong anti-racism message. Courtesy of Up in the Air Theatre

By: Kitty Cheung, Peak Associate

Intrigued by the idea of digital drag, I saw House of Rice: In Rice-olation on June 27 as part of rEvolver’s online performance festival, e-Volver. The rEvolver Festival is a theatre and performing arts festival which takes place annually in Vancouver. While the 2020 festival was cancelled due to COVID-19, the e-Volver Festival sprang up as a digital alternative featuring a variety of media performances, including House of Rice: In Rice-olation

Advertised as a “drag and multi-media installation performance exhibiting the intersectionality of queer, Asian artists in Vancouver,” I was initially skeptical about how much the performers would be able to shine through a digital platform. Having attended live drag shows in a pre-quarantine world, I figured the experience of being physically present in an intimate venue, where you can hear the cheers of fellow audience members and feel the collective energy of the crowd, would be difficult to embody through a computer.

Streamed on Twitch, the show featured a variety of media art by members of the House of Rice, an all-Asian drag family based in Vancouver. Most artists filmed from their own homes and neighbourhoods to stay safe during this global pandemic, with drag mother Shay Dior and fellow artist Maiden China performing together from a theatre.

What amazed me about In Rice-olation was the thoughtfulness and attention to detail that went into its curation. Each creative decision, from the music choices to the makeup to the costumes to the video editing, were done with intention. For example, rather than featuring a variety of musical artists as is customary for drag shows, the House of Rice performed music solely from queer pop icon Rina Sawayama. The Twitch stream started off with a land acknowledgement before launching into Sawayama’s “Dynasty,” a powerful track about intergenerational trauma. I found it suiting to start off with this song since inherited pain can be a significant part of the diasporic family experience, and Sawayama’s lyrics focus on fighting to “break the chain” of this pain. 

It was also lovely to see how In Rice-olation demonstrated the vast creative possibilities within Asian drag. From Rina’s upbeat pop song “Cherry” to her raging metal track “STFU!”, this show featured a variety of performances each tailored to a specific aspect of the queer Asian experience. 

Musical performances were cut between clips of artists sharing their thoughts and personal experiences. These artists, who were primarily of East and Southeast Asian heritage,  spoke about coming out to their families, dealing with fetishization and emasculation, combatting Eurocentric and patriarchal beauty ideals to achieve self-love, and so much more. 

My favourite performance of the night came from Maiden China, who prefaced her rendition of Sawayama’s hard rock thrasher “Who’s Gonna Save U Now?” with a speech. With the flood of sinophobic racism fuelled by COVID-19 earlier in 2020, it was important to address these issues while still holding space and focusing support towards the Black Lives Matter movement. 

Maiden China explained that despite the intricately different struggles of our respective racialized communities, the white supremacist structures which harm the Asian community are the same institutions which inflict violence upon Black and Indigenous folks. After offering a content warning for images of violence, she began a multimedia lip-sync performance which included footage of police brutality layered with bold typography featuring Rina’s lyrics and the “ACAB” slogan. This performance was a prime example of drag as a medium for radical activism.

The overlapping identities of being queer and Asian can be ferociously difficult to navigate. During a time when COVID-19 forces us to be physically distant from our communities, the House of Rice created a digital space for those isolated in the queer Asian community to find visibility and inspiration. Throughout the show, the Twitch chat box was generously flooded with rainbow heart emojis and supportive words from audience members and artists alike. In Rice-olation highlighted the importance of queer family and community support, while also illuminating the political power of drag.

Three locally made beverages to drink for the weather you want, not the weather you always get

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Summer living made easier with refreshing beverages. ILLUSTRATION: Tiffany Chan / The Peak

By: Sara Wong, Peak Associate

It’s officially summer, which means it should be time to cut up some watermelon and bring out the lemonade — though Mother Nature doesn’t always appear to have gotten the memo. However, the rare sunny days she does grace us with can be enjoyed even more with these three new, locally-made drinks!

Dickie’s Ginger ginger beer

I have a confession to make: I generally dislike carbonated drinks. However, the ginger beer from Dickie’s Ginger is so good it transcends this dislike. My first taste of Dickie’s Ginger was incredibly special. After interviewing Vincent Garcia about Kasama Chocolate, he offered me a tour of their workshop. 

SEE MORE: SFU grad’s business venture is a delightful culmination of chocolate and friendship

I happily accepted, and while I was there, I discovered Dickie’s workspace just around the corner from Kasama’s. An employee showed me how they make their ginger beer and gave me a sample. I learned that the ginger beer was made with four simple ingredients: water, ginger, lemons, and organic cane sugar. This simplicity makes it taste refreshing — perfect for hot days. Additionally, the process and ingredients Dickie’s Ginger uses are instrumental in making the flavour of the ginger prominent. Their ginger beer stands out for multiple reasons: it’s real ginger and not an extract, it’s put through a cold press juicer, and it’s unpasteurized, preserving the flavour for longer. However, this dedication to freshness means that the product has to be refrigerated. 

A four pack of the original ginger beer is offered for $16 or can be purchased in single, 1L bottles for $12. 

Dickie’s Ginger ginger beer can be found at select retailers across Metro Vancouver (see their website), at the Trout Lake and Kitsilano Farmer’s Markets, or online at BeerVan  — where you can have it delivered to you at home! Besides the original flavour, they also currently sell strawberry and raspberry varieties.

Taps & Tacos margarita kits

Remember when quarantinis were a thing? It’s in this spirit that Taps & Tacos came up with the genius idea of selling margarita kits. I purchased the coconut-flavoured kit for myself and loved how affordable it was and how easy the margaritas were to make. Aside from coconut, the other core flavours offered are lime and jalapeño. Additionally, they have feature flavours like mango and spicy watermelon — you have to keep up with them on social media to find out what flavours will be featured and when.

Each kit comes with the margarita mix (which is made in-house using real fruit and no preservatives), a package of dehydrated limes, and a cute little recipe card. The tequila is not provided, but they sell some on the side. A small kit costs $6 and makes three single margaritas, while a large costs $11 and makes six. I enjoyed that the coconut flavour was tangy as opposed to sweet — it tasted more refreshing that way. If I order another kit, I would probably select a more fruit-forward flavour.

Taps & Tacos margarita kits are available at their restaurant, food truck, Port Moody Farmer’s Market, and Coquitlam Farmer’s Market. They currently only allow pre-orders but a delivery service is in the works too, so stay tuned for further announcements on their Instagram at @tapsandtacos and Facebook at Taps & Tacos.

Teaspoons & Co five-minute bubble tea kits

Okay, so bubble tea is more of a year-round (rather than a seasonal) drink, but with people spending more time at home, DIY bubble tea has become increasingly more popular. Passion Tearoom was the first shop to sell bubble tea kits in Metro Vancouver and now they’re defending their trendsetter status with their new outpost, Teaspoons & Co. This online store sells all your bubble tea essentials —  teas, flavour powders (for taro and coconut), syrups, creamers, jelly toppings, and accessories like metal straws.

And of course, the pearls. 

These are what make Teaspoons & Co the place to shop at. Traditionally, tapioca pearls take about 40 minutes to cook, but Teaspoons & Co has created packages of pearls that are ready in just five minutes. I tried out one of their packs and can confirm that the pearls are done cooking in five minutes, and they taste as soft and chewy as the regular ones I had purchased previously! Their standard bubble tea kit is $23 and makes ten servings. If you want the five minute pearls in your bubble tea kit, it will cost an extra $3.

Teaspoons & Co is an online shop. They deliver across Metro Vancouver, but there’s a delivery fee involved unless you spend over $35 and live in Burnaby, Port Moody, Coquitlam, Port Coquitlam, Vancouver, North Vancouver, New West, or Richmond. A more cost-effective way to eliminate a delivery fee is to select pickup at checkout, but that means you will have to make a trip downtown to Passion Tearoom. 

Peak Speaks Podcast – SFU Trivia

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Listen here: https://pod.link/1464226637

Two SFU professors receive $300,000 grants from Innovate BC

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Photo courtesy of Innovate BC

Written by: Zach Siddiqui, Humour Editor

Two SFU professors have been awarded $300,000 each in grant money through Innovate BC’s Ignite Program, out of four total winners.

Dr. Martin Ester, a computing science professor, won the award for his collaboration with Terramera on a new computer platform to design greener, more efficient treatments for crop disease. In an email interview with The Peak, Ester stated that through his project, Canada could achieve better farming productivity while remaining environmentally friendly — an effect that could ripple globally. 

“We will develop machine learning methods that learn from data about the effectiveness of candidate pesticides observed in the lab,” Ester explained. He added that this data is normally expensive to obtain and therefore limited. 

The professor plans for the award money to fund the graduate students who are to spearhead the ongoing research, along with travel expenses and equipment.

Dr. Edward Park, a mechatronics professor, received the award for his work on Exomotion. With his industry partner, Human in Motion Robotics Inc., Park is developing a mechanical “exoskeleton” that wheelchair users could wear and use for “full legged mobility,” according to Innovate BC’s website.

Innovate BC is a Crown Agency whose mandate is to support technological development in British Columbia, particularly by connecting innovators with sources of funding. The Ignite Program in particular focuses on innovation in natural resources, applied science, and engineering.

“Despite the ongoing global uncertainty, it’s extremely encouraging to see our local tech companies and researchers continuing to change the world with homegrown innovation,” wrote Raghwa Gopal, Innovate BC President and CEO, in the company’s official statement on this year’s winners. “Since 2016, the Ignite Program has been a catalyst to help B.C.-based research projects access funding, accelerate commercialization, and transform industries.”

The Ignite Program awarded a total of $1.2 million this year. Other recipients included Dr. Dominik Roeser of UBC, for his work on a topography platform to plot wood harvesting trips, and Dr. Jeremy Wulff of UVIC, for his work on a universal polymer adhesive.

An amateur spin on DIY

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Photo: Alex Masse / The Peak

By: Alex Masse, SFU Student

When I say I’m a creative, that means a lot of things. I write articles, I write a lot of prose and poetry, and I’m also a musician. So when an opportunity to be creative arises, I take it — which is exactly how this new hobby of mine formed from an art project. I was doing a mentorship with a local theatre company before everything became remote. The initial plan had been a giant puppet of some kind, but then COVID-19 happened and I lost access to the resources. I still wanted to submit something, so I made a costume out of old clothes, craft supplies, and things laying around my room. 

I tend to collect all things cute and quirky. My regular haunts were thrift stores and flea markets. I love figurines, vintage toys, and little knick-knacks. Maybe it’s my neurodivergence, but I’ve adored them for about a decade and they show no signs of going anywhere. All that’s really changed is I’m less embarrassed about them. Plus, I find them very inspiring, and as a creative, that’s really important.

Photo: Alex Masse / The Peak

I had maybe a bit too much fun. I took an old hat and gave it dangling pipe cleaner earths and covered it in shells and stones, bonding with my glue gun the whole time. After finishing that first project, I wanted to do more, and I realized there was a lot of stuff laying around my room I could use. 

To tell the truth, I’d always been anxious about DIY and crafty activities. I didn’t have any real experience, and everything others made looked so . . . polished. But I guess, in a way, I DIY’d DIY. 

My first crafts were experimental: they were made of random trinkets in my room — things that would’ve otherwise rotted in boxes forever. It was fulfilling in a strange way, gluing old knick-knacks together. Like I was giving them new life. They now rest faithfully on my bookshelves. 

Photo: Alex Masse / The Peak

Inevitably, I moved beyond trinkets to put around my room. I made three necklaces: one out of an old Tamagotchi figurine, one out of a glow-in-the-dark star, and one out of my first antidepressants bottle. It was an interesting process; I used old scissors to make the holes for chains. 

It became a challenge: how many things could I transform? I hacked up an old t-shirt and put it up on my wall. I cut some tights that were too small into knee-high socks. I turned an old melatonin bottle into a case for earplugs, because being neurodivergent, sometimes the world is too loud. 

Photo: Alex Masse / The Peak

I know none of my projects look professional. They’re obviously the products of some sad teenager losing her mind to cabin fever. But that doesn’t take away from their value and charm. And honestly, I think we should embrace the aesthetic of imperfect crafts, especially now, when a lot of us don’t have access to more specialized resources. We’re breathing kitschy new life into old things! It’s nostalgic, it’s sort of recycling, and it’s a lot of fun. I haven’t spent a cent, either: everything was made with stuff around my house and never involved anything more complicated than tape, glue, or scissors. 

This quarantine, let go of the internalized standards of what looks tidy and professional. Do stuff for fun and let yourself mess up! I once tried gluing rubber bands to a tank top. It bombed horribly, but I had fun and learned something. 

Whether you’re the artsy type or not, it’s important to let that creative part of your mind cut loose and play sometimes. It’s healing and gets you thinking outside the box. I don’t think pre-COVID-19 me would’ve whittled a Tamagotchi toy into a necklace.

If you have the time, why not try it? See what you can make with stuff laying around your room. You might surprise yourself. 

 

How I became less apprehensive about alcohol on my own time

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Illustration: @RESLUS / The Peak

By: Madeleine Chan, Staff Writer

I had my first drink at 19. Not my first legal drink, no, my first drink ever. This may seem odd to the majority of regularly drinking university students. How could you not have tasted the sweet, numbing nectar of the brewing gods before that age? 

Let me take you back to a time of innocence and ignorance to explain why.

As a kid, alcohol wasn’t something that was around a lot. My parents only drank once in a blue moon, making the substance seem like some otherworldly, taboo thing that only non-Chans drank. Drinking also wasn’t something that was painted in the most positive light, either. The earliest instance of this was the mandatory D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) program in grade five. I remember my teacher taking slices of our day to ingrain the perils of drugs and alcohol in our minds. Lessons about permanent neurological impairments and death were filtered through the friendly face of the program’s lion mascot.

But I also remember commercials on television detailing the horrors of drunk driving, magazine ads showing the impacts of underage drinking, and television characters critically (and sometimes fatally) succumbing to the haze of alcohol. I remember finally understanding the sinister reason behind why women had to watch their drinks at bars.

Nothing associated with drinking seemed good. How could so many people in the world take pleasure in drinking when it: a. cost an unnecessary amount of money, b. seemed dangerous, and c. could potentially be fatal?

I guess that shit really hit me, because I was for sure afraid of alcohol by the time I entered high school. 

And, it just so happened that the pressure to drink was very present by then. People were sneaking drinks onto school property, talking about their favourite liqueurs and chasers, and spilling on how they stole from their parents’ stashes.

And the parties. There were always parties. Parties that I wasn’t always invited to, but ones that I knew people were just drinking the night away at — including people in my close friend circle.

Everyone has their own relationship with alcohol, some good and some bad. Peer pressure shouldn’t be what determines this relationship, especially when that thing has the potential to be so volatile.

By the time I was in grade twelve, the social pressure had definitely become more apparent, especially because of this one band trip we had to Squamish. I remember hearing my friends and almost all of the other grade twelve students in band chatting about what drinks they were going to bring and how they were going to hide them in their bags to evade the teacher’s eye. I felt it was a stupid and irrational idea, but didn’t say anything and let them do their thing, for fear of social ostricization. It was great that none of them pressured me into drinking with them either, but the feeling was still there, lurking in my lonely heart that just wanted to be included.

So when they got caught, I felt I had made the right choice. I was proud of my ability to resist, to stick to my morals, and to be on the “right” side. But when they got suspended for three days, named themselves the “sus squad,” and left me alone at school as one of two grade twelve students who didn’t rebel, I did not feel so great.

The first few years of university were even worse. The stereotypes from countless pop culture showing frat parties and people getting blackout drunk always lingered in my mind. Especially in first year, when I was in residence, seeing people with bottles of booze stashed away in their dorm rooms, and hearing floormates tell tales of getting drunk the night before exams as if it were just another regular Tuesday. My social anxiety had just started to really kick into high gear, too, and a pressure to drink became yet another thing to set my nerves ablaze. 

During this time before my first drink, I remember being so terrified of anything that could impair my ability to think, to process, to comprehend the world around me. I had relied so heavily on the idea that my mind was my self-worth, that it seemed like such a major potential impairment to my essential being. I didn’t trust myself to not do or say stupid things, to not be in control of myself and the world around me. I mean, there’s an age restriction on this stuff for a reason, right? This could be a detriment to my health, I justified.

I thought this to be true until one fateful night out with my friends from high school. We were at Cactus Club, of all places. I remember them all eagerly scanning the drink menu. I got nervous. A brew of anxious turmoil started within me as I contemplated whether I should get one or not. They reassured me that I didn’t have to get a drink, but their constant talk of different cocktails and the blatant fact that I would be left out, yet again, pushed me. I reached a point where I felt I really had to get one. I rationalized it in my head. What’s one drink with close, supportive friends? I’m legal, it’s time, I need to know what this substance tastes like, and what it does to me. 

And I got it. I finally understood why people liked it so much. It was the freeing feeling of laughing carelessly with my friends, stepping out into the cool night’s air, languishing loosely under the soft glow of the moon without thinking about your worries. Not to mention the taming of the fire in my nerves. 

I was free from my cerebral cage — my fears of being harmed, of being lesser, seemed like a faraway feeling.

But that doesn’t mean I drink all of the time now. I only really drink for concerts or parties — really any sort of social event where I can quell my anxiety. I quite like the occasional sensation of alcohol slowing my movements, my mind, my nerves. But I still don’t fully trust myself to consume more than a handful of beverages, and definitely not enough to get drunk. I don’t even know how many drinks will do that to me.

Ironically, I’m sipping on a drink as I write this. I don’t know if I need it to continue to spill my guts to the world or if I’m just trying to detox my nerves after another long week of classes, work, and responsibility. Probably a bit of both.

But this is what works for me. I recognize that there are probably many people my age with far different stories who don’t drink at all and many people who are struggling with drinking too much. All of those dangers that I previously talked about are still a concern as alcohol can be as much a prison as it is a release.

Everyone has their own relationship with alcohol, some good and some bad. Peer pressure shouldn’t be what determines this relationship, especially when that thing has the potential to be so volatile. If I’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s to stand firm in your beliefs without letting fear dictate your every move.

 

Trans Mountain pipeline construction continues during COVID-19 pandemic

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Photo courtesy of Energi Media

Written by: Madeleine Chan, Staff Writer

Construction of the Trans Mountain Expansion Project (TMEP) is continuing in BC and Alberta during the COVID-19 pandemic. In BC, construction is currently underway in Kamloops and on Burnaby Mountain at the Burnaby and Westridge Marine and Terminals.

The Public Health Act implemented by the BC government, which limits gatherings of 50 or more people, does not apply to construction sites as they are considered essential services. However, provincial health officer Dr. Bonnie Henry has directed employers to take “all necessary precautions” with similar guidelines to the Public Health Act.

Ali Hounsell, Manager of Communications at Trans Mountain, told The Peak that they had to “adjust protocols quite quickly” to adhere to these guidelines. 

“Our office workers, like most people, switched to a work-from-home environment where possible.” 

Regarding construction workers, Hounsell stated that “each work site is unique” with the nature of some having workers already at distances. 

“We worked with our general contractors to ensure that we met all protocols and advice and requisitions by health authorities, and we’re able to do that using a number of measures.” 

According to their website, Trans Mountain has taken several measures that Trans Mountain in compliance with COVID-19-related guidelines. This includes, but is not limited to, enhanced cleaning and sanitation protocols, reduction in seats on transport buses, and staggering work shifts and breaks amongst other distancing and health protocols. 

There are currently no confirmed cases of COVID-19 in Trans Mountain’s workforce according to a quarterly report. Hounsell mentioned that they have one suspected case in Alberta.

“When we’ve had any suspected cases, there’s a whole self-reporting policy. Even I have to self-report on a weekly basis [ . . . ] On our worksites, people are temperature screened when they come to the site. They’re asked to self-declare — there’s a questionnaire they have to fill out. And so anyone who declared any symptoms or didn’t pass the temperature check were tested [for COVID-19].” 

When asked if workers are following the guidelines, Hounsell said that “it’s something [they] take really seriously.” 

“We’ve asked all of our contractors on the expansion project and all of our people at our facilities to ensure that things are being adhered to on a daily basis [and] on an hourly basis.”

“There are some cases with construction or the type of job you’re doing that you do need to have closer proximity. And in those cases there are special protocols that need to be taken, in terms of PPE and equipment, so where people can’t socially distance because of the type of work they are doing, which is a reality in some types of construction.”

Despite changes in protocol, Hounsell said that the project is on track to be completed in 2022.

Concerns about the continuation of construction have been raised from multiple parties, including the Mayor of Kamloops, since the beginning of COVID-19 restrictions in BC. Burnaby residents have also expressed concern by taking photos showing workers at the Burnaby Terminal not following social-distancing protocols.

Tiny House Warriors, an anti-pipeline group that builds and lives in houses along the TMEP route, said in a press release that the BC government deeming construction sites “essential services” is a “cynical attempt to take advantage of our impaired mobility to push the extractive industries onto our land.”

“By pushing them through our territories during a deadly pandemic, the resource company invasion is not only an ongoing violation of our jurisdiction, the contagious man camps they had set up on our land could be a death sentence for our people.”

The Supreme Court of Canada recently declined to hear an appeal by the Squamish, Tsleil-Waututh, and Coldwater First Nations that challenged the re-approval of the construction of the pipeline in February of this year. This is the second challenge to the Federal Court of Appeal among their eight years of opposition to the project.

Tsleil-Waututh Chief Leah George Wilson stated in a video reaction that the decision “is a setback for reconciliation” but that they have “vowed to explore all legal options to protect their rights, land, water, and climate.”

As construction of the Burnaby Terminal and Westridge Marine Terminal continue, preparations for the Tunnel Portal through Burnaby Mountain are also underway. According to the Canadian Energy Regulator, construction of the pipeline through Burnaby Mountain is expected to begin around fall or winter of this year and “take upwards of two years to complete.”

SFU has stated its opposition to the TMEP in the past and released a report in 2016 that details an “increased risk to SFU from the TMEP” from the potential environmental hazards and “blockage of the single evacuation route.” The City of Burnaby has also openly opposed the pipeline expansion since 2014, citing public safety and environmental concerns.

The Simon Fraser Student Society (SFSS) recently reaffirmed their opposition to the project “due to its environmental impacts and safety risk to the SFU Community.” SFSS President Osob Mohamed stated on their website that “the safety of SFU students and community members is our top priority.”