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Glorification of colonial history sustains harm on unceded land

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Hands prints on a rock. With splashed colourful outlines that make the hands prints visible against the rock.
PHOTO: Onin / Pexels

By: Heidi Kwok, Staff Writer

Content warning: Mentions of colonialism, genocide, and violence against Indigenous Peoples.

As a non-Canadian settler, my initial impressions of the country, like those of many newcomers, were shaped by misleading narratives of a society that embraces diversity and multiculturalism. Yet, beneath this image lies a darker truth: Canada’s national identity is sustained by a selective memory that celebrates multiculturalism while concealing the historic and ongoing colonial violence against Indigenous Peoples. Now, knowing the truth, the celebration of Canada as an inclusive place feels cruelly ironic given that the state was founded on the displacement and genocide of Indigenous Peoples through the eradication of their language and cultures.

The common yet harmful framing of colonialism as a relic of the past, allows existing colonial institutions and systems to preserve the inhumane child welfare system, justify unauthorized resource projects on Indigenous lands, downplay the Missing and Murdered, Indigenous Women, Girls, and 2SLGBTQI+ people epidemic, and neglect access to safe drinking water. All of which normalizes the ongoing dispossession and prolonged violence against Indigenous Peoples. However, the reality of living on unceded and stolen territories means being surrounded by constant reminders of the colonial violence that made living here possible as an uninvited guest — and yet this violence is subtly romanticized. From anglicized place names and holidays that commemorate problematic figures like John A. Macdonald, the racist architect of the Indian Act and residential schools, to our university’s very namesake, Simon Fraser, an explorer who was credited as the “discoverer” of the Fraser River despite Indigenous presence since time immemorial. 

Canada’s histories are made palatable through the overt glorification of colonialism.

Through selectively curating what histories to remember and celebrate, and what to forget, the state uplifts the brutality of colonization as an indispensable part of the Canadian national identity and heritage.

In doing so, the state diminishes any meaningful and honest attempt towards reconciliation and decolonization. It likewise shows that there’s a willingness to erase Indigenous suffering in exchange for a sanitized history that makes settlers feel less discomfort through stories of denial. It is clear that Canada has revised history to paint a more favourable portrait of itself. By allowing this revised image to take centre stage, these colonial myths continue to silence and undermine Indigenous rights and sovereignty. Which is absolutely unacceptable! 

As such, genuine remembrance must be practiced by settlers. But, what does this really mean? Well, for starters, accountability begins when we question who benefits from the stories we tell about the past. It begins when we recognize our own privilege as settlers and open ourselves to uncomfortable but necessary conversations about decolonization. Genuine remembrance must also extend beyond treating land acknowledgments as a tick-in-the-box to tangible action that reflects our commitment to centring Indigenous perspectives such as consistently supporting Indigenous communities and organizations through contributions or partnerships. Moreover, it requires confronting everyday expressions of colonial glorification by supporting initiatives that preserve and reclaim Indigenous place names, as was done with the renaming of traffic stop signs on Tsawwassen First Nations lands to now say “stop” in hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓. Further, it requires us to view holidays like Canada Day as a day of self-reflection and learning/unlearning rather than as a celebration. For instance, during the past Canada Day, instead of attending parades or parties, as a settler, I took the time to further my understanding of the past and present impacts of Canada’s colonial policies and the residential school system on Indigenous Peoples today. 

 

My body is not a project

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a person doing the warrior yoga pose in their back yard. The person is peaceful while connecting with their body and the environment.
ILLUSTRATION: Cliff Ebora / The Peak

By: Ashima Shukla, Staff Writer 

I’ve spent most of my life running from exercise — only figuratively, of course. When I was little, my mum tried to entice me with different sports: karate, skating, swimming, and even dance. But I always found an escape route. So imagine my surprise when, two years ago, an ADHD diagnosis revealed that the very thing I’ve dodged all my life was exactly what I needed. 

Research shows that exercise boosts neurotransmitters’ activity, like dopamine and norepinephrine, which can enhance focus and executive function. Regular cardiovascular exercise has been found to lower blood pressure, reduce the risk of dementia, improve memory, and fight osteoporosis. In addition, strength training boosts metabolism, reduces the risk of falls and injuries, and improves blood sugar management. Stretching improves posture, enhances blood circulation, relieves stress, and decreases headaches. Suddenly I began to wonder if exercise could be less punishment and more care. 

So after my undergrad, still unmedicated, aimless, and anxious, I found myself signing a gym membership. Somewhere between reps and runs, the treadmill became my therapy chair. Feeling angry? I ran. Overwhelmed? I ran some more. Within a few weeks, my body remembered what my mind loved to forget: presence. Bringing my attention back to my feet, my breath, the controlled motion and repetition, rhythm became my refuge. 

Western culture often treats time and bodies like machinery, meant to be measured, optimized, and monetized. Social media sells the illusion of perfection. Productivity culture demands efficiency. Under the logic of capitalism, even wellness becomes work. This was what I hated about exercise all my life. The impulse to view my body as another thing to fix. That if only I found the right supplements and movement routine, I would finally look and feel beautiful.

But what if movement was a refusal? A way of saying, I am not a project to improve. I am a person who deserves care. What if we reclaimed exercise, viewing it less as performance and more as an experience to enjoy? On the days I find myself ruminating and stressed, care looks like a run. Lately, it’s a walk around the block, noticing the bright red trees and breathing in the sharp autumn air. On the days I spend researching and typing away on my laptop, it looks like laying out the yoga mat and gently stretching away the tension in my back and shoulders. 

“Ashima, remember you have feet,” my therapist often tells me. It’s a silly cue to ground me. A reminder that I have a body, that I am not just a mind lost in itself. And movement, I hate to admit, has become my way to presence. It has become a part of my daily mindfulness practice.

To move, simply because it feels good, is to reclaim our bodies from the systems that want to measure and perfect them. At its best, exercise can be a way home to ourselves. It grounds, regulates, and restores. And in a world that tells us to keep running towards the next achievement, it can remind us to pause. 

I want to keep moving, not to get anywhere but to stay here.

I want to feel the air in my lungs, the ground beneath my feet, the gentle ache of my sore muscles, my racing heartbeat. Every stretch, every dance class, every swim becomes a small act of rebellion, a reclaiming of my body by returning to the present moment. Maybe the most radical thing we can do with our bodies is to simply inhabit them. 

Monday Music: Tropical song for winter blues

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IMAGE: Pixabay / Pexels

By: Petra Chase, Features Editor

This time of year can be mentally and emotionally difficult. As the days get shorter, darker, and gloomier, the winter blues, or in more severe cases, seasonal affective disorder, are common. One thing that helps me, on top of my vitamin D supplements and forcing myself to get up a little earlier, is my tropical songs playlist. If you’re also looking for a safe place for your imagination to drift, let these selected tracks take you to a warmer, brighter, beachier place.

 

Song of the Sleeping Forest” by Susumu Yokota

Susumu Yokota was a singular Japanese electronic artist. This song is picked from his 2005 record, Symbol, an extravagant soundscape of classical music samples perfect for fantastical daydreaming. The bouncy tropical melodies mixed with a celestial opera sample make me feel like a mermaid traversing the bottom of the ocean, adorned with pearls as my hair flows through the water. I could be on the Expo Line but mentally, I am surrounded by friendly sea creatures.

 

White Sandy Beach of Hawaiʻi” by Israel Kamakawiwoʻole

You’ve probably heard the late Kamakawiwoʻole’s renditions of ukulele classics like “Over the Rainbow” and “What a Wonderful World.” His soft voice and gentle strumming feels like a lullaby, transporting you to a peaceful sunrise in your mind’s eye. “White Sandy Beach of Hawaiʻi” is an ode to the native Hawaiian’s land. The lyric “The sound of the ocean soothes my restless soul” is meditative for stressful days.

 

Coconut Water” by Milk & Bone

The sprinkles of coconut-like castanets in this smooth rhythm always make me feel like I’m on a beach. This Montreal-based pop duo sings about “fruity lipstick,” “Treasure Island in your heart,” and “coconut water.” No matter the season, this song will make you want to be cool, relax, and replenish your electrolytes.

 

Cool on your Island” by Y Kant Tori Read

I must also share this ‘80s glam rock hidden gem from singer Tori Amos’ stint as Y Kant Tori Read. While this album’s commercial and critical “failure” pushed her to try again and find her authentic sound, there is something camp about “Cool on your Island.” The song uses the metaphor of an island for an emotionally unavailable lover. The synth and tropical percussion are a lush atmosphere to grapple with longing, for fans of Kate Bush and ‘80s rock.

 

Feeling Like a Plant” by Dominique Fils-Aimé

Taking yet another shift in genre on this playlist, envision yourself undergoing photosynthesis in this neo-soul gem off the Montreal-based artist’s 2023 album Our Roots Run Deep. This song is only an entrancing drum and layered vocal rhythms as Fils-Aimé sings lines like “Let me climb all the way to the sun.” Even when the sun is hiding behind the clouds, that doesn’t mean you can’t access its energy within yourself.

In Boots, portrayals of being gay are nuanced — the way it should be

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IMAGE: Courtesy of Sony Pictures Television and Act III Productions

By: Mason Mattu, Section Editor 

Boots, Netflix’s recently-released gay military dramedy, stars a very talented Miles Heizer (Parenthood) as Cameron Cope, a closeted gay teenager who enlists in the Marines in 1990s South Carolina. The story is based on Greg Cope White’s memoir, The Pink Marine

A central question to this series is whether Cameron should stay or go. Cameron enlists in the military rather impulsively, not realizing that it was illegal to be gay as a Marine. “Living a lie is too high a price,” Cameron’s repressed and fully-out alter ego says to him in the final episode. “The longer that you stay here, the more you’ll betray who you really are — until, one day, you won’t remember who that is . . . and I’ll be gone. What happens to me?” 

Throughout the series, Cameron struggles with whether he should leave bootcamp because of the brotherhood and growth he sees while training alongside others who, despite their buff appearances, are just as lost as he is. One example out of the ensemble cast is the charming Max Parker (Vampire Academy) as Drill Sergeant Sullivan, who carries the weight of his own sexuality while putting on a macho façade and barking orders to his trainees. Meanwhile, Captain Fajardo, played by the talented Ana Ayora (The Big Wedding), struggles with her identity in her own way, being a woman in a very sexist and male-dominated military.  

What I liked about Boots was the fact that it is a departure from stereotypical representation of the gay community on television. The series has only one sex scene, which feels more like a view into Sullivan’s struggle with his own identity than just sex — despite its very photogenic cast. There’s no dramatic “coming out” moment for our main character. His struggle with his identity is not resolved at the end of the show — it remains repressed, messy, and in Cameron’s context, illegal. 

The question of whether Cameron should stay or leave the Corps is not entirely based on his sexuality. If he stays, he loses a chunk of himself. If he leaves, he loses his courage, willpower, and brotherhood with fellow soldiers. This complicated duality is intentional. It is carefully constructed by the show-runners, who evidently would like the audience to view Cameron as a nuanced, gay character. While focusing on Cameron’s experience as a closeted gay soldier, the series also places it within several other broader problems that he faces, including living with a narcissistic mother, coping with death, and the contradictions of masculinity itself. 

Beyond its narrative complexity, Boots is visually stunning. Cinematographers Bruce Francis Cole and Pedro Gómez Millán portray the landscape by drawing attention to the gruelling nature of the bootcamp while also creating a dreamlike green hue. Alongside this, the camera is often focused on the eyes of characters in the centre frame. This helps establish a sense of emotional connection to the deep-rooted thoughts and fears of all the men in the squad. 

Boots perfectly captures one of many potential experiences of being gay, while allowing Cameron to be a multi-dimensional character with something for everyone to relate to. Yes, his alter ego does (very iconically) break into “Fernando” by ABBA. However, the genius of the series shows itself in how it is different from queer representations I’ve seen on television growing up.

Boots presents us with a nuanced picture of being queer and its life dilemmas for those who are balancing their identities and achieving their own aspirations in inherently oppressive settings. 

The Peak’s rating: 5/5 raccoons. It’s a must watch!

 

50 years of unique idealism: UNIT/PITT’s story

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IMAGE: Courtesy of Shafira Rezkita Vidyamaharani

By: Ashima Shukla, Staff Writer 

What does it mean for an artist-run centre to survive 50 years? For UNIT/PITT, the answer is a commitment to remaining porous, responsive, and unpretentious. The Peak interviewed their team to learn more. 

Founded in 1975, UNIT/PITT is a non-profit organization that has served as an incubator for arts advocacy in Vancouver. Often willing to subvert what counts as art, executive director Catherine de Montreuil explained UNIT/PITT’s work as lending “institutional and organizational framework” to local and international, emerging and renowned artists. Its associate director Ali Bosley believes it has remained a space for “the weirdos and the misfits,” where those who challenge Vancouver experiment and grow. “There’s been this willingness to adapt, even if it looked like a failure,” Bosley continued. This insistence on imperfect growth, while staying close to the ground, has been key to its survival. 

On November 7, it celebrated that legacy of creative resistance with 50: Half a Century of UNIT/PITT and UNIT is U publication launch. This featured “live audio and visual interventions by Kaila Bhullar and Jefferson Alade, reimagining artist david-george extensive audio and video archive of the Pitt of the Past.” Meanwhile, the exhibition, running until February 2026, invites viewers to step back in time and explore their extensive archive, reigniting hope for overcoming today’s crises.

The accompanying 183-page publication, designed by SFU student and graphic designer Shafira Vidyamaharani, complements this unruly history, as a tactile testament of endurance. Lovingly edited by de Montreuil, Bosley, and archives project coordinator Kira Saragih, it asks, what does it mean to archive from the margins? 

Understanding the “importance of leftist organizations carrying leftist archives,” Bosley sees this undertaking with “a sense of responsibility to archive what hasn’t been documented.” As Saragih emphasized, “Archival practices, in their roots, can be quite colonial.” Instead, Unit is U reframes memory as a collective act. The process of unpacking the archives was not limited to sorting through papers, as Saragih elaborated: “Early in the project, I met with a lot of the folks that were involved with UNIT/PITT,” seeing them as “living archives” of the organization’s work and impact. 

The resulting publication is a vibrant collage of essays, timelines, and archival fragments that capture this sprawling and eclectic history. In various forms, the pieces explore Chris Wong’s reflections from HIV/AIDS activism in the 1990s, Dana Claxton’s First Ladies exhibition featuring Indigenous women artists, Jamie Ward’s stories curating music from mariachi bands to the Wrong Wave festivals, Brit Bachmann’s honest reflections on burnout, and more. 

In the next 50 years, Bosley wants to carry forward the unique idealism she sees at the heart of UNIT/PITT’s work. The goal is not simply to preserve history but forge new solidarities. As Saragih claimed, “real art isn’t what is displayed in the room, but the conversations that stem from it.” Bosley echoed this sentiment, calling on young artists to see themselves as part of a lineage. 

As art becomes essential to the collective’s survival, support UNIT/PITT by becoming a member. Visit the exhibit at their new space in Kitsilano, and absorb its rich history of resistance and solidarity.

 

Need to know, need to go: What’s on in November

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IMAGE: Ramakanth Chilekampalli / Pexels

By: Rachael Quak, SFU student

The Eastside Culture Crawl

Various locations, Vancouver

Thursday, November 20–Sunday, November 23

Thursday, November 20, and Friday, November 21, 5:00–10:00 p.m.

Saturday, November 22, and Sunday, November 23, 11:00 a.m.–6:00 p.m.

Cost: Most events free

The Crawl returns to Vancouver’s Eastside for its 29th year, boasting over 500 artists. Arts and crafts lovers of all kinds will enjoy getting to visit artists at home in their studios, working in mediums ranging from charcoal to silver, acrylic to film, and so much more. Roam between the studios on the crawl map for an immersive and inspiring experience with local artists!

 

Birds of a Feather: Winter Wings

Nature House at Stanley Park, Vancouver

Sunday, November 23, 9:30–11:00 a.m.

Cost: Standard $18, reduced price $12 for those with financial barriers

Even in the November cold and gloom, there is still plenty to look forward to this month for birdwatchers and outdoor enthusiasts. In fact, many cold season birds flock to the Greater Vancouver area at this time of year, as part of their migratory patterns, heading south from Alaska. This guided walk around Lost Lagoon in Stanley Park is a great opportunity to unwind, connect with nature, and learn more about these unique seasonal birds “filling our waters, forests, and skies with vibrant feathers and fun calls and quacks.”

 

Got Craft Holiday Market

Croatian Cultural Centre, Vancouver

Saturday, November 22, and Sunday, November 23, 10:00 a.m.–5:00 p.m.

Cost: $5 entry plus $0.71 in fees

Want to get gifts for your loved ones outside of the inescapable sales season by big retailers? ‘Tis the season to shop local and soak up some festive vibes at Got Craft’s holiday markets this weekend! Featuring 100 vendors, you’ll discover a huge variety of handmade goods, including clothes, skincare, accessories, and sweet treats. Check the market out and be sure to chat with the makers themselves too!

 

Sam Carter Applied Art + Design Polygon First Nations Art Exhibition

Roundhouse Arts & Recreation Centre, Vancouver

Tuesday, November 18–Tuesday, November 25

Monday to Friday 9:00 a.m.–9:00 p.m., Saturday and Sunday 9:00 a.m.–4:45 p.m.

Wednesday, November 19 and Tuesday, November 25 9:00 a.m.–1:00 p.m. 

Cost: Free

For one week only, this exhibition celebrates the awardees of the Polygon Award in First Nations Art: artists Rebecca Baker-Grenier, Gordon Dick, Kari Morgan, and Lawrence Paul Yuxweluptun Lets’lo:tseltun. They were selected for “their role in preserving traditional practices while embracing contemporary art.” Also being featured are the works of the Sam Carter Award in Art + Design awardees: Tyler James Goin, Russell Hackney, Bettina Mueller Reichl, and Mario Pao. Their works embrace both creativity and functionality in a striking combination, inventing fresh perspectives on how art can fit into our daily routines.

Hey kid, how do I get to the Lorne Davies Complex?

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ILLUSTRATION: Yan Ting Leung / The Peak

By: Sasha Rubick, SFU Student

It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday, cloudy, and campus is deserted. The commuter students fled home yesterday, and the Burnaby campus residents are hunkered down in their concrete boxes. I’m headed home to my dorm, veering left on the walkway. As I look up, I realize that every overhead light fixture has a spider on it. Yikes. Out of the shadows, a wild Gen Xer appears. He’s wearing a windbreaker and has the self-assured vibe of someone who bought a house when the cost of living was cheaper.

“Hey kid,” he says. He sounds like the median voter that politicians always talk about. “How do I get to the Lorne Davies complex?” 

I go into fight-or-flight immediately . . . and freeze. 

I’ve been at SFU for three years. I downloaded SFU Snap. I know this campus like the back of my hand. Directions, though — yeah, no. The only way to navigate SFU Burnaby is to get lost 30 times during your first semester. 

But this poor 50-year-old retiree is asking for help, so I’ll have to do my best. 

“You’re going to want to write this down,” I warn.

“Here’s the deal. SFU is renting out space to the ‘Kill Everyone With Fire and Death and Knives’ conference tonight because we’re a little too short on funds to be discerning. Instead of going through the AQ, you’re going to go through Saywell. The second that you go up the stairs to Saywell, you’ll be hit with a wave of disappointment so intense that you’ll question if you’ve just received an F on a midterm. Yes, you. Yes, I understand you’re not a student — UGH, just follow along, will ‘ya? Then you’re going to turn . . .”

It takes me half a minute to remember left from right, even when I make L’s with my thumbs and index fingers. 

“Turn right, out of the first door you see, and then make another right. You’re going to keep going straight until you see two things. On your right, there will be a pack of first years in knockoff Stüssy hoodies. They’ll be drinking beers on the roof of the RCB. On your left, there are three hooded members of the Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP) wheatpasting posters onto the wall. Right, RCB; left, RCP. Got it?

“That’s where you’ll turn left. On the fifth step or so, a trapdoor will kick out under your feet, and you’ll fall into a glowing portal. You’ll rematerialize in the depths of the Shrum Science Center, which is like a liminal space. Ignore the shelf of taxidermied birds. Once you reach the standee for The Peak with newspapers from 2015, you’ll know you’re in the right place.

“If you wait there for a couple minutes, one of the only security guards on campus should be patrolling the Shrum Science Center at about that time. He’ll bring you to Lorne Davies from there — you might even be able to make it to your daughter’s volleyball game. Did you catch all that?”

The man shakes his head, looking healthily traumatized and slightly impressed that I knew about his daughter. (Of course I know her. We got lost in the underground tunnels on the way to BPK 110 in first year. It took twelve packs of Hubba Bubba and a rubber chicken to escape).

“Shoot,” I say. “It might be faster for me to walk you there.”

Horoscopes are back

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By: Katie Walkley, Peak Associate

Aries (March 21April 19)

Go lay in grandma’s lap, tough guy. You deserve it. If you don’t have a grandma, any scruffy-looking dog will do. It’s gotta be scruffy, though. 

Taurus (April 20May 20)

Stars are aligning in a way that hasn’t happened in 2 million years. With this new luck on your side, try a backflip . . . you may end up in the hospital, but . . . wait a second . . . is that a vision of Pedro Pascal doing your X-rays?

Gemini (May 21June 21)

Your sign makes you a strong, powerful person. However, this week, you have to ignore all that. Hone in on all your twisted subconscious thoughts and make a salad. 

Cancer (June 22July 22)

Don’t leave the house. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it doesn’t look good for you. Sorry, babes. 

Leo (July 23August 22)

The cancers in your life may be avoiding you by staying inside their homes. What a bunch of weirdos, right? Take this as an opportunity to confess your undying love for them that will last whether they are perpetually inside OR outside. 

Virgo (August 23September 22)

As you take on new projects this week, you must learn that you cannot control everything. Start teaching jazz. And if you don’t know how to play the trumpet, just blow, baby.

Libra (September 23October 23)

You are the master of looking at all sides, but your disarrayed spirit is unbalancing the stock market. Get your money out of the stock now and open a penny arcade.

Scorpio (October 24November 21)

This week, if your bangs naturally drift to the side, don’t straighten them out. The shortening days are awakening your emo vampire powers and only your flawless side bangs can make the time we must wait for the sun more bearable.

Sagittarius (November 22December 21)

When’s the last time you thought of your feet? Got you! It’s time to show your feet some TLC, girlypop. 

Capricorn (December 22January 19)

A moment’s rest is on its way to you. When you feel it, shake that powerful finger of yours and bellow from the bottom of your gut, “Not yet!”

Aquarius (January 20February 18)

Get out the red thread. It’s time to look into the conspiracies you’ve been avoiding investigating. First order of business: don’t trust the moon; it might just be a round cloud.

Pisces (February 19March 20)

This Monday, you may be feeling a calling to put things off until the end of the week . . . wait ‘till Friday to see if that’s a good idea.

Reimagining Shakespeare: The campus is but a stage

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EDIT: Gudrun Wai-Gunnarsson / The Peak

By: Zainab Salam, Opinions Editor

Jess: a fourth-year student, burdened by ambition and Wi-Fi issues.

Advisor: a keeper of bureaucratic riddles, and a destroyer of hopes and dreams.

Professor: philosopher, lecturer, and a veteran of many, endless faculty meetings. 

Barista: servant to the gods of caffeine and despair.

Student 1: group project hero in theory, ghost in practice. 

Student 2: master of excuses, chronic vanisher when deadlines draw near.

Weather: omnipresent, dramatic, and really a main character in its own right.

 

ACT 378

Scene I  

Fog blankets the concrete halls. Students wander, pale and sleepless. The wind whispers bad omens. Midterms approach. Enter Jess, dressed in a super puff, hunched beneath a broken umbrella, clutching a binder swollen with rain and regret. Jess heads towards the academic advising office. She takes a seat in the waiting room. 

JESS (raising her phone to the heavens): I have awoken at dawn, taken the R5, walked through the foggy pathways, only to find that my Wi-Fi doth vanish at the very moment of the dreaded submission of mine own cursed assignment. The portal hath betrayed me! Nay, it mocks me, spinning its cursed wheel of eternal loading! 

Enter the advisor into the small room. 

ADVISOR: Good morrow, pupil. Dost thou seek guidance, or merely to lament thy fate aloud more?

JESS: Kind oracle, I wish to drop ECON 302. The graphs taunteth me. The numbers sneer. My calculations mocketh me. 

ADVISOR: Alas, the deadline hath passed. You may appeal to the Board of Academic Sorrows, but they require three signatures, two tears, and a doctor’s note declaring existential fatigue. 

JESS: Then I am undone. 

The advisor exits, weighed down by policy and despair. 

Scene II

Renaissance Cafe. The line stretches into eternity. The air smells of espresso mingles with wafts of hopeless ambition. Students swarm by, clutching loyalty cards as if they were talismans. 

BARISTA: Step forth, good patron! What manner of brew shall please thee this day?

PROFESSOR: (enters, muttering lowly) I seek caffeine strong enough to revive the will to grade. Make it a double — nay, a triple.

BARISTA: One doth remortgage their nonexistent house for that. 

PROFESSOR: Aye, that would not be the first of such misfortunes; for in these latter days, the economy doth wither like a neglected houseplant. 

At a nearby table, students discuss their group project. No one has read the rubric. The tension could fuel a small reactor. 

STUDENT 1: Methought it was thine honour to present, good friend. 

STUDENT 2: Nay, I did believe the burden rested upon thy shoulders, fair friend. 

A silence heavier than the Burnaby Mountain’s fog descends. Outside, the rain intensifies, drumming against the windows with the persistence of unpaid tuition.

WEATHER (from beyond): Behold! I am the true protagonist of this tale! 

JESS (sipping her latte): Indeed thou art, sky. For even the sun feareth to climb Burnaby Mountain.

She glances at her phone — Canvas notification: “Grade posted.”

JESS: (Whispers) I shalln’t open it. Mighty flesh of mine, in the darkest night! Thy seductive flair shalln’t — I . . .  

ADVISOR enters the room. 

ADVISOR (chuckling menacingly): Jess, oh jess, where art thou chest? Have thy no guts? Or have thy no flames? I received word that you’ve received an F, so you shall stay in damnation at SFU for ten thousand more days.

JESS (crying to the ceiling): I begeth of thou, prithee! Spare my soul! Allow me to leaveth this cage — locked I am among the birds who die in this here glass. I am merely a student with a wandering past, and wander I shall ‘till the end of time, alone with my thoughts and Canvas notifications to keep me composed as twine! 

ADVISOR pulls out a staff and bangs it against the floor, opening it up. As asbestos surrounds Jess, she looks panicked. Weather watches anxiously. When the asbestos cloud arises, Jess is in a trance-like state and proceeds back to class. ADVISOR exits on stage left, holding a sign reading:“WELCOME TO SFU: WE WANT YOU TO STAY FOREVER.” 

FIN

Freshet News flows through community

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Four of Freshet’s founders sit at a long white table and smile for the camera. Their table has a small sign saying, “Save Our Local News.”
Courtesy of @saveourlocalnews / Instagram

By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer

When snow begins to melt and gives way to spring, rivers in BC rise and rush in response. This high water phenomenon is known as a freshet. Now, in the Tri-Cities and surrounding areas, a new paper bears the same name. Similar to the turbulent nature of the river’s flow, Freshet News sees itself “as a disruptive force in the corporate media landscape, where quality local news has been all but abandoned.” The Peak spoke with Janis Cleugh, one of the publication’s founding members, to learn more about the local paper. 

Freshet News is the product of the Save Our Local News campaign, which launched on June 4 in response to parent company Glacier Media shuttering three local papers — Burnaby Now, New Westminster Record, and Tri-City News. From the campaign’s inception to Freshet News’ website launch, the founders have had “quite a journey,” Cleugh explained. “We’re learning about how to build a non-profit,” she added. “We’ve been fundraising and getting out into the community during the summer, and meeting people and hearing what they want, and largely it was they’re very much welcome to have the local news back.”

As a non-profit and worker-owned co-op, Freshet News draws funding through sponsors, advertisements, donations, and government grants. With this business model, “you don’t have to chase the numbers and satisfy the shareholders like we did in our previous employer,” Cleugh explained.

“We are responding to the community,” she added. “We’re writing stories that are meaningful, we’re spending time talking to people.”

 — Janis Cleugh, co-founder of Freshet News

Without pressure to chase “the high clicks,” Freshet News can focus on stories that the publication believes will mean the most to readers.

“We’re covering a lot of city hall, and arts, and sports,” Cleugh told The Peak. “We’re going big on events. People want to know what to do on the weekends and during the day [ . . . ] we have a pretty comprehensive directory that drops every day of things you can do in your community, Westminster, Burnaby, the Tri-Cities.”

In addition to her work as a reporter and editor, Cleugh serves as board treasurer. Alongside her are her three co-founders, Mario Bartel, Cornelia Naylor, and Theresa McManus. The four currently make up the Board of Directors and will look to onboard more community members soon. All four worked under Glacier Media at their respective publications until their sudden closures. “It was incredibly disappointing when our employer shut down [ . . . ] our news outlets, in April, in the middle of the federal election,” Cleugh said. “We hope to do better.

“We’re really honoured to be back working in the same communities as we were before, and we’re incredibly happy to reconnect with people after being laid off.”

Freshet News is currently working to bring their publication into print. Those interested in reading more can find the publication at freshetnews.ca.