Editors: Cassandra Bellefeuille & Maia Tustonic |
Virtual reality cognitive health test is ‘flying’ in Carleton research lab
KYLA SILVA
V irtual reality flight simulations in Carleton University’s Advanced Cognitive Engineering (ACE) Laboratory have pilots airborne without their feet ever leaving campus.
These simulations aim to help researchers design a cognitive health screening tool to reimagine aviation safety. Carleton’s ACE Lab developed the CANFLY test to measure pilots’ cognitive abilities while flying to ensure they can safely support themselves and avoid accidents.
CANFLY’s lead researcher, Kathleen Van Benthem, said up to 80 per cent of accidents in general aviation — a stream of aviation focused on non-commercialized flight, like search and rescue or recreational flying — are caused by cognitive error.
“The decisions pilots make, knowing what’s around them, remembering to do things — all that is [the] reason why other accidents happen, and that’s the majority. That’s something we can work on,” Van Benthem said.
The general aviation accident rate is much higher than in commercialized aviation, Van Benthem said. “In Canada, on average, there’s an accident every 11 days and every couple weeks that involves a fatality.”
CANFLY uses virtual reality to mimic how it looks and feels to fly a plane. Pilots put on a headset and see graphics of a virtual cockpit window to see a video game-like
“It actually feels like they’re sitting there at the front of the seat, and they can look around and when they take off, everything moves
around,” said Emily Larkin, a psychology master’s student and CANFLY researcher.
Pilots use their flight skills to navigate the gamified world, listening to radio chatter and managing controls scaled to be accurate to planes they’re accustomed to flying. They simultaneously complete more complicated tasks such as recollecting specific details of radio calls and maintaining the correct altitude and airspeeds, which vary throughout the flight.
“They take off at one airport, they go to another airport, fly around and then they keep going,” Larkin said. “We pause it at certain times, the same time every flight, so we can gather the same information from people and compare it.”
Test results help answer researchers’ questions intended to reveal aspects of pilots’ cognitive abilities. More than 250 pilots have been tested and 21 students contributed to the research throughout the study’s 15 years and counting lifetime.
“We’ll ask them, ‘how fast were you going?’ or, ‘where were you when we just paused the scenario?
Can you point it out on a map?’” Larkin said.
Measuring how many “critical incidents” occur, which include crashes, getting lost or significant equipment damage, is another critical part of the ACE Lab’s study, Van Benthem said.
The virtual reality simulation is as realistic as it can be without sacrificing safety, she said. “Ideally, we would go fly with everybody for an hour, but you don’t want any critical incidents to happen, right?
“This way we can make things really tricky, see what we can bring out in terms of people’s skills, and then we see how they did on here: does that predict the real-life risk?”
The data collected measures the pilot’s likelihood that a cognitive incident will happen and compares pilots’ virtual flight results to their responses to the cognitive questions.
The researchers then look at these two pieces of information, compare them and decipher meaning from the comparisons, Larkin said. The results are used to create personalized predictions for pilot behaviours and overall cognitive
simulation of Ottawa as they fly over.
The ACE Lab’s full-scale simulations use a crashed and refurbished aircraft and eight “very expensive” projectors. Photo by Kyla Silva
patterns.
“Do these two things relate to each other in a certain direction? How strong is that relationship? ... Does that relate to their history that they have?”
To create prediction models, the ACE Lab uses modern machine-learning AI tools, which are similar to how streaming platforms use prediction techniques to recommend shows, Van Benthem said.
“[Streaming platforms] are collecting data on you, and they take that and they crunch all those numbers, and then they’ll predict by saying you might like to watch this or this,” she said.
The same data collection, crunch and output is used in CANFLY, Van Benthem said. Instead of a recommendation for the latest reality TV show, the information output is pilots’ likelihood for cognitive incident occurrences. It can also indicate poor results in one or more of the abilities measured during flight, such as situation awareness or task management.
Studies merging cognition and aviation have been flying around the
ACE Lab since 2008. In 2014, CANFLY was established and has since been scaled down from a “full-scale” simulator, to the virtual reality simulation.
“You can’t have all those [fullscale] simulators across the country and get pilots in there and have somebody assess them. It’s just a lot of work,” Van Benthem said.
By using virtual reality simulation, the space and resources needed are smaller.
Simulation specialist James Howell said although it doesn’t look very impressive, the smaller design created greater immersiveness because of their ability to scale the control placement to where they usually are in a real aircraft.
“When you look at it, it’s just kind of holes cut in the desk,” Howell said. “But the important thing is that we get the exact placements that our pilots are used to in the actual cockpit itself.
“We need to have something where you get an actual touch feedback with the real world, to get that immersiveness into it,” he said.
In April 2024, CANFLY was
scaled down further to become an online test that can be taken remotely or in addition to the virtual reality simulation. Larkin said the data collected through the remote test aims to validate the results from the simulation component of the study.
“
” We need to have something where you get an actual touch feedback with the real world.
- James Howell
Van Benthem said a remote test might even be better for pilots. “We could really, what we call it, ‘put it in the hands of pilots’ so they could then assess themselves whenever they wanted to.”
The pilots don’t currently receive their test results. But according to Larkin, pilots said it’s given them the opportunity to reflect on valuable skills when flying.
“It gives them an opportunity to really think and go, ‘oh, OK, how important is that?’ Or, ‘how am I doing?’” Larkin said. “It’s getting them to reflect on things that they’re used to doing or used to hearing, but not necessarily remembering.”
The flight simulator uses virtual reality to test pilots’ cognitive health. The monitor shows what the cockpit looks like during the simulation. Photo by Kyla Silva
Psychology master’s student Emily Larkin holds the VR headset pilots use to immerse themselves in the flight simulation. Photo by Kyla Silva
C&C Editor: Sadeen Mohsen | culture.charlatan@gmail.com
OUTLaw clubs prepare 2SLGBTQ+ law students for next generation of advocacy
W hen Collin Fletcher joined the University of Ottawa’s law program in the early 2010s, the world looked very different for the 2SLGBTQ+ community. Following the legalization of same-sex marriage across Canada in 2005, Fletcher said his generation was looking to conquer new frontiers in the fight for equality.
As a passionate young lawyer who wanted to help his community, Fletcher said he began looking for a space on uOttawa’s campus to connect with other 2SLGBTQ+ individuals.
That’s when he discovered uOttawa’s OUTLaw Students’ Association, which strives to make the legal community more inclusive for 2SLGBTQ+ students. Part of the OUTLaw initiative in North America and Europe, the organization’s name and mission have been adopted at several universities across Canada, such as uOttawa, Dalhousie University and Toronto Metropolitan University.
Among the 70 law schools across North America surveyed by the Law School Admission Council, more than 50 per cent reported that LGBTQ+ students comprised 15 per cent or more of their student populations in the 2023-24 school year.
“It was fantastic to be in a space like that,” said Fletcher, now a contract instructor at Carleton University. “I’m entering this new professional stage of my life and I can actually talk to other queer people who are in the same position as I am.
“It was very helpful to have tips as a young queer person about when you’re entering into the workforce — do you come out or not? What are the ways I should identify that I am a member of the community and in which contexts should I?”
The uOttawa OUTLaw Students’ Association is currently led by co-presidents and third-year law students Stephanie Abuan and Eleanor Wagner. They hosted a series of events this year, including a picnic, drag night and karaoke night to build community within the club.
“There’s a sense of having some social events so people gain more connection with each other, but also because of the pressures of law school. I think everybody’s still kind of driven to have fun after school’s over,” Abuan said.
With its karaoke night, the association raised funds for Egale, a Canadian organization aiming to improve the lives of 2SLGBTQ+ people through informing public policy, legal advocacy, education and research.
Supporting the 2SLGBTQ+ legal community also brings “hope to the future of social justice,” Abuan said.
The Schulich OUTLaw Society, named after their Schulich School of Law, is OUTLaw’s Dalhousie
University branch in Halifax. One of the society’s main projects is a joint initiative with the Canadian Bar Association to run a mentorship program connecting OUTLaw members with queer lawyers.
“A lot of people feel like they’re somewhere on the [queer] spectrum and they don’t really know how to address both the sphere of professionalism that inherently comes with being a lawyer while staying true to their queer identity,” said Sybil Danyk-White, co-president of the Schulich OUTLaw Society.
For some queer individuals, Danyk-White said it can be “daunting” to enter professional spaces. This fear can be compounded for trans and BIPOC members of the community.
She called the current political climate “pretty scary” and said trans and gender-diverse students’ rights are under attack, both in the U.S. and in some Canadian provinces.
U.S. President Donald Trump signed an executive order in January that declared his government will only recognize two official genders. In Canada, the Saskatchewan government’s Parents’ Bill of Rights was enacted in 2023, requiring parental consent for a student to request a change in their preferred name, gender identity or gender expression at school.
Danyk-White said her generation’s “big questions” will centre around trans rights and gender-affirming care, which she believes OUTLaw members will advocate for professionally.
Fletcher said it can be difficult and scary to advocate for gender-diverse rights, but there’s a “civic responsibility” as lawyers to “maintain justice” and “tend to society.”
“We have to be mindful of the broader importance of what OUTLaws is,” he said.
GEORGIA LOOMAN
Collin Fletcher, a Carleton contract instructor and lawyer, holds a picture of him and his husband.
Photo by Georgia Looman
charlatanculture&community
‘The only way forward is together’: Activists embody hope for Palestine
“We need to hold on to the hope for each other, so it won’t slip between our fingers,” Einat Gerlitz says on March 8, 2025. Photo provided by Nir Hagigi
GRACE MARTIN
T wo Israeli anti-Zionist activists are calling for an end to Israel’s occupation over Palestine and expressing hope for a peaceful future.
In 2022, 18-year-old Einat Gerlitz refused her mandatory enlistment into Israel’s military as a form of resistance against a force that she said created a greater sense of mourning over security. As a result, she spent 87 days in a military prison.
Just one year later, Tal Mitnick, 19, said he also had to choose between his civic duty and his morals.
Ultimately, Mitnick chose to stand with his beliefs, becoming the first Israeli to refuse military enlistment following the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attacks. His decision landed him in prison for 185 days.
“I had a choice either to be part of this force that is currently genociding my neighbours, that is killing people’s loved ones, or I had a choice to refuse,” Mitnick said at a panel discussion at Saint Paul’s University on March 8. The event was organized by Independent Jewish Voices (IJV) Canada.
Now, the two are taking part in a cross-Canada tour, speaking about their experiences and why they chose to refuse.
At the panel, Mitnick and Gerlitz sat alongside Gazan artist and filmmaker Amani Abu Ramadan to discuss resistance, hope and the future.
“The only way forward is together and [through] co-resistance,” Mitnick said.
Nir Hagigi*, president of IJV Carleton, moderated the discussion and emphasized the importance of
bringing the three voices together.
“Einat and Tal are here to speak on behalf of people who refuse to enlist,” Hagigi said. “Amani is here to speak on behalf of those who don’t have a choice but to face the treatment of the occupation of the [Israeli] military.”
According to a United Nations report, more than 45,000 Palestinians have been killed by Israel’s military since Oct. 7, 2023.
Despite the numerous hardships, the panellists all said hope is not lost.
“For us Israeli Jewish activists, our resistance is recognizing that Palestine exists, that Palestinians exist and that Palestinians are not going anywhere,” Mitnick said.
Megan Wardrop, a member of IJV Canada, said she was “profoundly moved” by the resistance shown by the panellists. She emphasized the need to engage in open dialogue.
“[The panellists are] examples of how we can come together and speak to such important issues and come out with a shared humanity,” Wardrop said.
Despite the importance of remaining hopeful, Gerlitz said progress toward peace can sometimes feel like a distant dream. However, she said the only way to cope with the difficult circumstances is for people to support each other.
“We can’t hold onto hope all the time, and I think that’s where the community role [comes in],” Gerlitz said. “When [one] person falls down, another person holds the hope for them, and we need to hold on to the hope for each other so it won’t slip between our fingers.”
Artist Abu Ramadan said she dreams of returning to her homeland in Gaza, and until then, she shows resistance by attempting to foster a more harmonious world for people of the future.
“It’s like when we plant olive trees — we don’t plant them for us, we plant [them] for the next generations.”
Tal Mitnick, Einat Gerlitz and Amani Abu Ramadan (left to right) stand together in support of peace, resistance and hope. Photo provided by Nir Hagigi
*Nir Hagigi has previously contributed to the Charlatan.
Features Editor: Kyra Vellinga | features.charlatan@gmail.com
Once considered a strictly religious or cultural practice, environmental concerns have driven more people to observe a day of rest or no consumption. Graphic by Alisha Velji
The
power
of rest: Reclaiming
time for the planet, spirituality and
ALEA ST.JACQUES
or Donovan Martin, it started with Mondays. In high school, he committed to meatless Mondays as his personal day of rest — a weekly practice where he abstained from eating any meat products to rest from
Now, as co-president of Carleton University’s Environmental Science Students’ Association, Martin knows a thing or two about the environment. He also knows the importance of taking a break from the world to help
“When you realize the benefits from a single day at rest, you want to apply them to further and further
days,” he said.
By reducing consumption as an ecological form of a day of rest, Martin said he lessens his electrical dependence and unnecessary waste from plastic and paper products.
“From an environmental standpoint, reducing your consumption with a day of rest allows for a step towards a more ecologically just future,” Martin said.
Once considered a strictly religious or cultural practice, environmental concerns have driven more people to observe a day of rest or no consumption. For example, the Green Sabbath Project, founded in 2019, advocates for “doing nothing” once a week to save the planet. This may include disconnecting from technology, reducing waste, eating plant-based meals and engaging with nature.
Some are motivated by anti-capitalist values, viewing rest as a political act of resistance against systems that promote constant consumption and production.
By reclaiming rest, people can reconnect with their humanity, resist being reduced to machines and challenge the idea that their worth is tied to productivity, according to Gabes Torres, a Philippines-based mental health practitioner and writer.
RESTING FOR THE PLANET
B y engaging in rest and reduced consumption, Martin said he learned how collective efforts can impact the environment.
“When you reduce your individual footprint, it might not seem that big, but on a grand scheme, over a course of weeks, months, years or even in your one day, those small cutbacks truly add up,” Martin said.
Rev. Chelsea MacMillan said rest and the earth’s future are interconnected. MacMillan is the New York organizer for GreenFaith, a multi-faith climate and environmental movement working to protect the planet.
“I think the climate crisis is kind of telling us ... we need to slow down and live more in tune with the earth,” MacMillan said.
MacMillan described her day of rest as a time to engage in spiritual practice, turn off electronics, meditate and enjoy unscheduled time in nature.
“I think rest is a way for us to connect to something greater than ourselves.”
in each semester. Just a single practice of rest each week can yield unquantifiable benefits, she said.
“It always has a kind of renewing effect.”
Debra Weru, a Christian health science student at Carleton, observes Sundays as her day of rest. She said the opportunity to rest motivates her throughout the week against academic pressures.
“I work hard so that I can rest harder,” Weru said.
On Sunday, she attends church in the morning and spends the remainder of her day in one of two ways: resting at home or spending time with her community.
Weru said keeping the Sabbath holy is commanded by the Bible. For her, this means avoiding any vigorous
tising the Sabbath gives her “peace of mind because I know that I’m in right standing with God.”
Aside from the mental and physical benefits, Weru said rest allows for relationships to be nurtured through community-building.
A day of rest may include disconnecting from technology, reducing waste, eating plant-based meals and engaging with nature. Graphic by Alisha Velji
SPIRITUALITY AND REST
B renda Vellino, a Jewish English and human rights professor at Carleton, observes the high holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as days of rest. Along with the weekly Sabbath, these periods of rest begin the evening prior and take the whole day off.
“It’s kind of like stepping outside of time,” Vellino said.
Many who carefully observe the Sabbath refrain from using electronic devices for 24 hours, Vellino said, though the practice varies. She said a portion of her day is spent in the synagogue, followed by meals with loved ones and often concluding with a nap or walk in nature.
“It is counter-cultural and anti-consumerist by design.”
As a professor, Vellino said religious accommodations allow her to observe the Jewish high holidays. However, her demanding work schedule often makes it difficult to incorporate rest practices on a weekly basis.
Vellino said universities could promote a culture of rest by encouraging students to reduce their course load and by continuing to offer reading weeks as a pause point
“[Rest] not only nurtures your relationships so they grow — it helps you as well.”
Colin Cordner, drawing from his background in
Greek and Roman philosophy and Buddhist meditation, frames rest as a practice of self-cultivation rather than mere downtime.
Cordner contrasts the contemporary view of produc tivity with the ancient understanding of leisure, which was viewed as an opportunity to grow oneself through activities like sports, reading and spiritual practices.
“The purpose of human life was not really to be productive,” he said.
As Carleton’s Buddhist chaplain, Cordner’s journey into meditation began during his undergraduate studies after taking a course in Buddhism. He said he realized meditation isn’t about accomplishing something or cul tivating a particular state of increased productivity.
Instead, he said it’s about “allowing myself to be and to deepen naturally.”
Cordner now hosts learn-to-meditate sessions on campus, where he said students often come in expecting to turn off their feelings or thoughts. Instead, he guides them to be kind to themselves and to “just be curious and investigate what’s really going on within oneself, without judgment.”
REST AS RESISTANCE
W hile some may argue rest is a privilege, scholars such as Torres frame rest as a fundamental human right, rather than a luxury.
In an era defined by relentless productivity, Torres defines rest as an act of resistance against capitalist systems. Capitalism, according to Torres, thrives on the exploitation of time and the commodification of human beings.
She said capitalism insists “time is scarce and it’s always running out,” fueling a cycle of endless consumption.
This relentless pursuit of productivity leaves individuals feeling disconnected from their own humanity, she said.
However, Torres said individuals can reclaim their humanity by participating in the anti-capitalist practice of rest.
Alisha Velji
By reclaiming rest, people can reconnect with their humanity, resisting their worth being reduced to productivity. Graphic by
He said students often realize how much negative self-talk they engage in and begin to develop more space and care for themselves.
According to a study conducted by the American Psychological Association, positive psychology and mediation significantly contribute to improved well-being and reduced negative emotions.
Cordner also pointed out how normalized it is to not rest. Recalling a time when he limited his courseload to four courses per semester to prevent burnout, Cordner said students taking five or six courses while working a part-time job has become the new normal.
“It’s a system which is not built up for the idea of rest, and without rest, without time for reflection, there is actually very little education being made possible.”
The Ontario Student Assistance Program outlines that a student is required to take five courses each term for four years in order to complete a university program in the “standard” amount of time.
However, a 2018 study conducted at the University of British Columbia found this systemic standard across Canadian universities can have extremely negative impacts on students who also work to financially sustain themselves.
According to the study, 68 per cent of working students reported stress and anxiety, with 58 per cent of working students experiencing fatigue. Additionally, the researchers found a significant negative correlation between work hours and both class attendance and study time.
“ ”
Time, in a way, might be a friend or a living thing that we commune with.
- Gabes Torres
“When we access rest, when we take a breath, when we’re in touch with our bodies, we’re reminded of our flesh, our blood, our breath,” Torres said.
MacMillan extended the idea of rest to GreenFaith’s mission of divesting from a world of mass consumerism and an economy built on fossil fuels. She said protesting, although an inherently unrestful activity, is a necessary act of non-compliance against a system that disconnects people from each other and the earth.
MacMillan said GreenFaith has actively pressured financial institutions, notably Citibank, to divest from fossil fuels through petitions, phone calls, protests and meetings with executives.
At the heart of Torres’ view is the notion of reclaiming time. She said pre-colonial traditions viewed time as circular and abundant — a stark contrast to the linear, scarcity-driven mindset imposed by capitalist and colonialist societies.
“Time, in a way, might be a friend or a living thing that we commune with,” Torres said.
Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry, also views rest as a form of resistance.
In her book, Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto , Hersey argues capitalism and white supremacy have used bod ies as tools for production and destruction for centu ries. She writes that “grind culture” has turned people into human machines willing to donate their lives to a capitalist system that values profits over people.
In response, Hershey calls for a rest movement as a spiritual and political act rooted in care and justice.
“Your body is a site of liberation. It doesn’t belong to capitalism,” Hersey said. “Love your body. Rest your body. Move your body. Hold your body.”
Like Torres, Hersey emphasized that rest is not about recharging to be more productive, but about re claiming one’s “divine right to rest.” Hersey encouraged people to break free from what she called the “cult of busyness.”
“Rest is a meticulous love practice ... Rest is rad ical because it disrupts the lie that we are not doing enough.”
Arts Editor: Bianca McKeown | arts.charlatan@gmail.com
‘Cultural intellectual property’: Artist Ashley Clark speaks on the cultural meanings of dreamcatchers
Ashley Clark (standing) hosts dreamcatcher-making workshops at least once a month. She says she hopes dreamcatchers spark curiosity in authentic Indigenous knowledge.
ALEXA MACKIE
A shley Clark keeps a dreamcatcher in almost every room of her home.
Typically hung above cradles or beds, Clark said dreamcatchers trap negative dreams and energy inside their web to be burned off in the morning sunlight. This ensures that only good dreams and energy are let in while the protected person is sleeping.
Clark is the Wahta Mohawk founder of Bougie Birch, an arts social enterprise which runs dreamcatcher-making workshops. Clark said she’s been hosting at least one workshop per month for the past two years.
The Charlatan sat down with Clark to learn more about the meaning behind dreamcatchers and the importance of authentic Indigenous art.
The Charlatan (TC): What’s the story behind the dreamcatcher’s origin?
Ashley Clark (AC): The Ojibwe story goes that there was a grandson running around his grandma’s house, and he went to step on the spider, but the grandma protected it, saying, “you don’t step on that spider.” She was then gifted the web from the spider as protection, and that’s how we got the dreamcatcher’s weave.
They were intended to be made by older females in the groups and hung above the baby’s cradle to help protect against illnesses, bad energies, bad dreams and anything that could hurt or negatively impact the child.
Photo provided by Ashley Clark
TC: How have dreamcatchers evolved over time?
AC: These oral histories and storytelling were created to explain something we couldn’t explain realistically. So the story hasn’t changed, but the application is broader now. Dreamcatchers also function for adults — I know I have one in every window except the bathroom in my apartment. The dreamcatcher’s use has evolved because people have realized they don’t have to be a child for it to work. We’re all children at heart.
TC: We’ve talked about its historical significance, but is there any cultural appropriation that you’ve seen of dreamcatchers?
AC: To avoid appropriating the dreamcatcher, you would want to use it for its sacred purpose: protection from negative energy and nightmares that would come when you’re sleeping, because that’s when you’re most vulnerable to the spirit world. Just like good dreams — which are good messages from our ancestors — there are bad messages and bad energies. To honour the craft, you would want to maintain that integrity and purpose.
Dreamcatchers are a piece of cultural intellectual property that’s unfortunately been exploited, so acknowledging its history is a small piece of reconciliation. On that level, the dreamcatcher has been stolen, for lack of a better word ... But it’s also the perfect word. It’s just a representation of what’s happened to Indigenous culture on a broader scale.
TC: What dreamcatcher stereotypes do you hope to challenge?
AC: In the history and commodification the dreamcatcher went through, you can still find them at the dollar store. I think their biggest misconception is they’re a kids’ craft when, in fact, it’s a craft for a kid to have. Dreamcatchers aren’t easy to make, requiring focus and attention to detail. It’s not a kids’ craft in the sense of infantilizing the skill level required. It’s a kids’ craft, possessive, as in it’s supposed to be gifted to a kid.
TC: How did you start making dreamcatchers?
AC: I noticed that not many people were making dreamcatchers for sale. So, I began crafting them alongside my beadwork that I would sell. I then started hosting workshops, and I’ve been doing at least one a month for the
past 24 months.
It’s a very interdisciplinary craft and every single one is different. I think that’s beautiful. There’s also not a lot of Indigenous dreamcatcher crafters — the fact that there’s still a demand at the dollar store blows my mind. The day I don’t see them there anymore is the day I know I’ve helped flood the market with authentic dreamcatchers. I want dreamcatchers to leave people wanting to know more. I hope that dreamcatchers spark curiosity in authentic Indigenous knowledge.
TC: What is the meaning behind the materials used to make dreamcatchers?
AC: The materials used would traditionally represent your geographic area. The Ojibwe people were the ones originally making them, and they have ducks in most of their territory, so they would use ducks or geese feathers. That geography would also be reflected with bead materials, porcupine quills, clay or bone beads. Shells are another popular material. On the west coast it was originally a dentalium shell, here in the Great Lakes it was the wampum shell — a purple shell you’d usually see related to Iroquois groups.
TC: What does it mean to you to share
the process of creating dreamcatchers with others?
AC: For me, it’s creating a third space for people to feel comfortable approaching topics that may seem daunting by using a familiar face. Many people worldwide associate the dreamcatcher with Canada and native people, but its full story isn’t done justice. Using the dreamcatcher as a familiar face makes conversations behind it more accessible. We’re inviting people into our space, as opposed to forcing people to find a space.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Graphics by Alisha Velji
Experimental architecture studio reimagines emergency temporary shelters
D umpster diving for cardboard, grabbing a Walmart shopping cart and calling election offices for old campaign signs are just some of the ways Devasri Baxi sourced materials for her latest project.
“Initially it was just like, ‘What can I source, quick and easy?’” said Baxi, a Carleton University architecture student. “I was trying to think from the perspective of someone who was on the streets.”
Architecture contract instructor Jay Lim tasked fourth-year students as part of the NEEDS project to use their creativity and everyday materials to design an emergency temporary shelter a homeless person could reside in — at least for one night.
“I am not a farmer, I am not a doctor, but I am an architect. As an architect, the one thing we can do is provide shelter,” Lim said. “This is really helping the students recognize that shelter is so important and temporary emergency shelter, that’s still shelter.”
His aim is for students to bring a sense of design and dignity to the shelter while bringing awareness to the homelessness crisis.
Baxi said the project also reimagines the possibility of anyone having a portable, personal shelter.
“Not everybody wants to stay in [homelessness] shelters for various safety issues, personal issues and they would rather choose to stay by themselves,” she said. “What if we reimagined a shelter that could be taken with you?”
Students self-evaluate their design on 10 of 15 categories including the portability, strength, waterproofing, heat resistance, comfort and reproducibility of their shelters. The design must also cost less than $100 to create.
Baxi’s design repurposes a shopping cart as a shelter. It was inspired by how people experiencing homelessness live their daily lives, using carts to store their belongings while remaining mobile.
Her design uses cheap materials like cardboard, milk crates, bubble wrap and old election signs to keep the person warm and protected from harsh weather. She also used particle board and corrugated plastic to keep the structure rigid.
“The idea is for them to sleep in the cart while protecting their
storage,” she said.
“Milk crates are where they would keep most of the storage or their personal belongings, and they sleep over it.”
Another iteration of the project is Will Girard’s design, which uses home construction materials and repurposes them at a smaller scale.
“I went to a few job sites to ask if they had any cut-off scrap pieces, so some of these materials are batting insulation, Tyvek and rigid insulation, and I’m making this thermal blanket that can hopefully keep someone warm,” Girard said.
He took inspiration from a bivvy, a sleeve that fits another sleeping bag inside of it. To him, the design resembles a mini house or “a tube of toothpaste,” if viewed from afar.
Like Baxi’s cart, Girard’s design is portable, packing up neatly for someone to carry on their back.
“We imagine people aren’t going to be in these all the time, and people move around,” he said. “Part of the project is making sure they’re portable, collapsible and lightweight.”
A bit less portable but still functional is Chris Jia’s park bench design intended to house
Fourth-year architecture students watch a waterproof testing of a NEEDS shelter on March 18, 2025. Photo by Bianca McKeown
BIANCA MCKEOWN
Devasri Baxi’s design reimagines a shopping cart as a place to sleep and store one’s personal belongings.
two people.
“Right now, benches are being designed as they call it ‘hostile architecture.’ They’re designed purposefully to prevent homeless people from sleeping on them,” he said.
Along with benches, Jia said he was inspired by the 2024 Paris Olympics’ use of cardboard mattresses as a light and foldable material to sleep on.
His design stacks cardboard to create a flat surface to sleep on while a tarp goes over the bench to protect against the elements.
For Jia, balancing functionality of the shelter with esthetics was a challenge of the project.
“I’m a believer in saying form follows function,” he said.
design uses construction materials and a thermal blanket to keep the person warm and protected.
“Basically, the looks of my design are second to me. It’s more of whether it works or not — that’s more important.”
Yet, Baxi and Girard both emphasized the elegance and dignity of their shelters, saying the project aims to inspire creativity and prove what can be done with recycled materials.
“We are design students,” Girard said. “We’re making the instructions, or at least showing one version of that using our design skills, and if you can make it work and look nice, why not do both?”
Also concerned with functionality is Benjamin Gianni, associate professor and co-ordinator in Carleton’s architecture program, who said temporary shelters are not the end goal. Rather, architects should look to create permanent housing.
“The ultimate solution is to offer that person a permanent place to stay,” he said. “The money is much better spent and the efforts are much better spent in permanent supportive housing.”
Though temporary shelters can help, Gianni said homelessness is a deep social issue that can’t be fixed just through design.
“We as architects, ultimately, should be pushing toward the issue of finding more permanent and sustainable solutions to this than find[ing] creative, interesting and high profile short-term solutions,” he said.
To this, Lim is adamant that the NEEDS project is not a long-term solution, but rather meant for emergency situations.
“We can’t end homelessness overnight, but we could help someone for one night,” he said. “Is it better to help someone for one night than not doing it all? I think it is, and I think it’s worth it.”
Photo by Bianca McKeown
Will Girard’s
Photo by Bianca McKeown
Chris Jia’s design reimagines taking over a park bench and can house two people. Photo by Bianca McKeown
Sports Editor: David Cummings | sports.charlatan@gmail.com
How Carleton’s women’s flag football team blitzed its competition in first season
DAVID CUMMINGS
I n their first season as a competitive club, the Carleton women’s flag football team made a name for itself among Ontario universities.
The team only materialized within the past year, recruiting coaches and players to compete in the fall 2024 5v5 Ontario Women’s Intercollegiate Football Association season.
The team went undefeated in their first qualifier tournament in Waterloo, Ont., in October, easily dispatching their five opponents by a combined score of 134-25. Only losing to the Waterloo Warriors at the November championship game in Hamilton, Carleton dropped to the league’s lower bracket, and easily went on to become Tier B champions.
In team co-founder Camara Wilson’s first year in university in 2018, there was no program to support her dream of playing women’s football at Carleton. So, Wilson started looking into forming a team herself.
But feeling overwhelmed with school, her vision took a backseat as she focused on her studies in sociology. Then in 2022, Wilson met Nadia Doucouré, a Carleton alumna and coaches’ assistant for the Ottawa Redblacks. With Doucouré’s help and guidance, the two applied to create a competitive club at Carleton.
Wilson said Carleton University Students’ Association (CUSA) denied their applications to become a competitive club in 2022 and 2023. But Wilson, inspired by her late father Wayne’s love for football, was determined to see her vision through.
“My main passion behind all of this is genuinely my dad,” Wilson said. “He passed away almost two years ago and he’s been my main drive to why I’m doing this.”
Wilson’s father, a Ravens football alumnus who played in the early 1990s, motivated her to study at Carleton.
Now, Wilson is in pursuit of a spot on Canada’s national flag football roster when the sport makes its debut at the 2028 Olympics in Los Angeles. She attended her first Team Canada training camp in January and another in March.
“In a way, I can sense him the most when I’m playing football,” Wilson said. “I can feel him still pushing me.”
Having graduated last April, Wilson said she returned to Carleton in the fall for a bachelor’s degree in law so she could play on the team she started.
The team’s current quarterback, Laiya Evraire, also comes from a football family — her uncle, Ken Evraire, played in the CFL, including four seasons for the Ottawa Rough Riders. Evraire grew up playing football in Ottawa and was hungry for higher competition, so she
reached out to Wilson.
“In order to get a club started, you needed two representatives,” Evraire said. “She kind of took me on as co-president and we started the process of reapplying.”
The team’s bid for competitive club status was finally accepted in 2024.
Evraire and Wilson then met with the co-founders of the local Ottawa Women’s Football organization, Stephanie Thinn and Jori Ritchie. Thinn and Ritchie joined the team as the offensive and defensive coaches, respectively.
“They’re so dedicated to football, especially in Ottawa,” Evraire said.
After holding tryouts in September 2024, the coaches whittled the inaugural squad to 14 players before rushing into the short, two-month-long season. After hearing the team was operating without any funding from CUSA or the university, the Ravens men’s football team stepped in.
“They gave us the kids’ summer camp shirts and then I just went to my boss’s shop and pressed on the numbers myself, and that’s how we got our jerseys,” Wilson said.
With only eight practices throughout the season, the team gelled quickly, blitzing the qualifier in Waterloo. Just two weeks later, the team found themselves overqualified for the Tier B title in a 40-6 blowout against the Laurier Golden Hawks at the championship in Hamilton.
“By the end of the tournament, I would say that we’d made a name for ourselves,” Evraire said.
For the team’s first season, Thinn said it was a “perfect story.”
“They really came together,” Thinn said. “I truly believe that if we had an opportunity to seed in the upper tier, we would have been very successful as well.”
Wilson said she strives to grow flag football in the wider Ottawa community. Even if she doesn’t reach the highest level herself, she’s eager to give “other girls an opportunity to try the sport.”
Now, months away from Wilson’s final university season, with the team’s intentions set on a Tier A championship and her own on Team Canada, she thinks back to where her dreams began.
“I would do anything for [my dad] to be here right now to see what I’ve done.”
Camara Wilson’s father inspires her “main passion” for flag football. Graphic by Alisha Velji
Ravens centre Nathalie Francis (21) helps up guard Noelle Kilbreath (10) in Carleton’s U Sports Final 8 semifinal matchup against the uOttawa Gee-Gees on March 16 in Vancouver. Photo by Janson Duench
Looking back at the history-making 2024-25 Ravens women’s basketball team
T he Carleton Ravens’ 2024-25 women’s basketball team has made history as just the second squad in program history to complete an undefeated OUA regular season.
The Ravens were the team to watch throughout the season as they earned their third-straight appearances both in the Critelli Cup finals and the U Sports Final 8 national championship finals. While hopes of an OUA championship and national three-peat were shot down in both appearances with two silver medals to show for it, their dominance continues to shape a growing dynasty in women’s basketball at Carleton.
Ravens coach and back-to-back OUA coach of the year Dani Sinclair didn’t humour the “undefeated” narrative. Throughout the season, Sinclair reminded reporters and fans that despite their perfect regular-season record, the Ravens lost twice during preseason.
“There’s nothing around the undefeated [narrative] because we’re not undefeated,” said Sinclair after the 7061 OUA championship loss to the uOttawa Gee-Gees on March 8. “And Ottawa is a very good team — it’s not like we take them lightly or we had too much pressure.”
Perhaps not so coincidentally, the only other team in program history to complete an undefeated OUA regular season was the 2017-18 women’s Ravens under the leadership of current men’s coach Taffe Charles.
Ravens alumna Heather Lindsay played a key role in
that perfect season, recording a team-leading 253 points through 23 games. Lindsay said her Carleton squad didn’t reflect on their undefeated regular season until they won the women’s program’s first U Sports national championship later that spring.
“There are so many talented teams, especially in the OUA, so it definitely is not an easy feat,” Lindsay said. “The team that we had that went undefeated all had the same mentality of winning and not focusing on individual accomplishments, and that was really important.”
Seven years later, that unselfish spirit is the same factor that brought this current team success, said veteran guard Tatyanna Burke.
“Our coaches have been pushing togetherness,” Burke said after the Ravens’ OUA semifinal victory on March 1. “I think all of us, from the starters to the people who are injured, we all do that. We all check in with each other. We all support each other.”
Despite one of the program’s best-ever point guards, Kali Pocrnic, taking off to play professional basketball in Finland, the squad found troves of talent up and down the bench. Until recently, it seemed like nothing would stop them.
Burke said it was the team’s confidence in each other that made them special.
“Most teams, they don’t prepare like us,” Burke said. “I like how the coaches focus on little details that make the players focus on [the] little details.”
This season was rookie Abany Deng’s first as a Raven. Deng said the team’s off-court chemistry was vital to their success on the court.
“We all consider ourselves sisters,” Deng said. “This is a really tight group and ... nothing is fake. Our connection on the court translates off court. We’re always together [and] we can rely on each other no matter what.”
Even Gee-Gees fifth-year guard and Critelli Cup MVP Natsuki Szczokin gave props to Carleton’s impressive season after uOttawa’s championship win.
“They’re an amazing team,” Szczokin said. “They never lost a game this whole season, so it really does show how good of a team they are. I think we used that as fuel, knowing that they are No. 1.”
Despite missing out on a third national title at the U Sports Final 8 national championship in Vancouver, this year’s season was still one for the books. They may not appreciate it until the job is done, but this season was another step forward for the program.
“Having once played, I know how much work these players put to be playing at such a high level and it really shows on the court,” Lindsay said.
Although Sinclair has consistently rejected that the undefeated season has resonated with the team, she offered a slightly different perspective after the Ravens’ OUA semifinal victory.
“It will [resonate] at some point, but not right now,” Sinclair said. “I think you could look back once the season’s over and you get a chance to reflect. That’s obviously a special thing, but it’s definitely not something we’re thinking about right now.”
ZOE PIERCE
OPINIONS
Opinions Editor: Elissa Mendes | oped.charlatan@gmail.com
PERSPECTIVE: Shaving my head wasn’t radical. Here’s why
BIANCA MCKEOWN
“S o, why did you shave your head again?”
This was the question that followed me around last summer after shaving my head on my birthday in May. People couldn’t seem to understand what would compel me — someone with long hair — to cut it all off seemingly on a whim.
This question of “why” followed me from genuinely baffled friends to family members who were upset or angered by my decision. The question also accompanied me in public, where I became invisible to men and a talking point for older folks to stare and
Over the summer, I found I was explaining myself over and over again about a decision I made about my body and my appearance. Why did other people care so much about my hair? My appearance has nothing to do
with them.
Society insists that to be an attractive woman, one must have long hair and wear makeup. Anyone who challenges this standard sticks out like a sore thumb.
But when I shaved my head, I wasn’t trying to “stick out” from society — I was just being me.
Here’s a little secret: I have never liked my hair. Growing up, I remember sitting uncomfortably in hair salon chairs and having hair stylists gush about how “lucky” I was to have such long, healthy, thick hair. I didn’t feel lucky at all. My hair was thick, hard to comb and only looked good right after I washed it. From Grade 3 to Grade 10, none of my classmates ever saw me without a ponytail.
During lockdown, I begged my sister to cut me a bob, which I rocked for a couple years, feeling more like myself than ever.
Then, my first year of
unviersity came, and I was convinced this was the year I’d shave my head, living by the motto “new city, new hair.” But when I got to the dorms that September, and was meeting more people than I’ve ever met in my entire life, I couldn’t do it.
Having hair was my comfort zone and a way to fit in. I wanted to make friends, meet people and be “pretty.” I cared more about what others thought of me than how I felt about myself, so I put off shaving my head.
What 18-year-old me didn’t understand then was that my appearance is the least interesting thing about me.
British-American actress Jemima Kirke said it best in her now-viral social media advice to insecure young women: “I think you guys might be thinking about yourselves too much.”
In fact, we’re all thinking about ourselves too much.
Nobody actually cares that much about your appearance, and if they do, that’s weird! Dictating your appearance based on the preferences of society or men is a waste of time. Uniqueness is a gift.
This freeing affirmation led 21-year-old me to finally do the thing I’ve wanted to do for years. I’ve never felt so liberated, fulfilled and confident in my life. No bed head and I could shower in under five minutes. I could physically feel the sun and wind on my scalp, making me feel in tune with my body in a new way.
I’ve never felt more beautiful.
It represented freedom to the highest level — from societal standards and from my own worries and fears. After doing it, I also realized it wasn’t a radical act at all. A shaved head was just me expressing myself to the highest degree.
So, to answer the question: “Why did you shave your head?” I’d have to say, “Why not?”
Shaving her head allowed writer Bianca McKeown to express her truest self. Graphic by Alisha Velji
What science can (and still can’t) tell us about our dreams
ARIA WILSON
A s a collective event, dreams unite us.
They can be wacky, scary, symbolic or happy, but exactly why we dream remains unknown.
While there are prevailing theories and conspiracies, beyond the science and mystery, the world of dreams can be magical.
The technical meaning of a dream is a series of thoughts, images and sensations occuring in the mind during sleep. But what more do we and don’t we know about the science of sleep?
PREPARING FOR SCENARIOS TO COME
O ur brains learn by creating images that we can use to predict behaviours. For example, when you consider eating your brother’s leftovers, you weigh the risks and rewards. By doing so, you are predicting the reactions of those around you and the impacts on yourself. Dreams are no different.
According to a study published by Cornell University, there are two types of dreaming that can help explain this.
Adversarial dreaming allows the brain to play tricks on itself. By randomly combining memories, your brain invents scenarios you’ve never experienced before.
Contrastive dreaming focuses on pattern recognition. Like studying, you take away key pieces of information and dump unnecessary knowledge.
Another prominent theory is that dreams aren’t particularly meaningful — they’re simply signals sent through your brain systems, pulling random memories and thoughts. This is known as the activation-synthesis hypothesis.
SLEEPING IS LEARNING
W hen you’re cramming late into the night for an early-morning exam, you’ve likely remembered it’s easier to retain information if you get a good sleep and skip that all-nighter.
Scientists at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies found unconscious brain states may help us remember events and facts. Brain cells change and form connections during sleep, helping us remember things and form complex ideas.
According to the National Library of Medicine, memories are stored in the hippocampus. Connections called synapses begin to form when you want to remember things, which can lead to more complex memories called memory circuits. These are developed through sleep.
THERE ARE FIVE STAGES OF SLEEP
A ccording to Medical News Today, there are five stages of the sleep cycle:
1. Light sleep with slow eye movement and reduced muscular activity;
2. Brain waves slow down and eye movement halts;
3. Delta (extremely slow) brain waves begin smaller, faster brain waves; 4. Almost exclusively delta waves, otherwise known as “deep sleep”; 5. Rapid eye movement (REM)
During REM our eyes dart in
different directions while our limbs become temporarily paralyzed, and the rate of many body functions increases. If people wake up during REM, they often recall their dreams. While paralyzation sounds scary, it safeguards the body from enacting dreams in the physical world.
COLOURFUL DREAMS MIGHT BE A RESULT OF TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCES
A pproximately 12 per cent of people dream in black and white, according to Healthline. Between 1940 and 1950, those number were much higher. The National Library of Medicine found that the shift from black and white to coloured media may be partially responsible for the shift.
SLEEPING FACE-DOWN CAN CAUSE CERTAIN TYPES OF DREAMS
H ave you ever had a dream about showing up naked to somewhere you shouldn’t be? Try flipping onto your back, because according to Healthline, dreams about sex, nudity, swimming, being locked up and being unable to breathe are associated with sleeping on your front.
While science has yet to uncover the full extent of dreaming, one thing is certain: dreaming is a collective part of life that helps us form functional thoughts and feelings, all while entertaining the mind.
Our brains learn by creating images that we can use to predict behaviours. Graphic
by Alisha Velji
‘Like a kid again’: Sleep podcasts are bedtime companions for adults
W hen it’s time to say goodnight, everyone has a bedtime routine that helps them drift into slumber. For many restless sleepers, the solution is not at the bottom of a melatonin bottle — it’s in their earbuds.
Sleep podcasts have become a popular method to prevent endless tossing and turning. Although research on exactly how many people tune into sleep podcasts is sparse, a 2019 Edison Research report reveals that more than half of the almost 6,000 podcast consumers surveyed in the U.S. say they listen to podcasts before bed.
Whether it’s a narration-style podcast, hypnosis or autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR), researchers and listeners say it can make the act of falling asleep feel less lonely.
Jim Davies, a cognitive science professor at Carleton University and director of the Science of Imagination Laboratory, said although there is some research into sleep aid podcasts, there is still more groundwork to be done.
“Most of the sleep podcasts out there, like Sleep With Me or Nothing Much Happens , are [storytelling podcasts] and often these are trying to be engaging enough to keep your thoughts from racing, but not interesting enough to keep you awake,” Davies said.
Although there is ample research on the benefits of music for sleep, Davies said the same research does not exist for narration-style podcasts. But he said the traditional practice of reading bedtime stories to kids translates to adults.
“Reading kids a story before bedtime is a classic thing you do, and that has been shown empirically to help them sleep,” he said. “So you can think of the story podcasts as being extensions of that.”
Otis Grey is one of many story podcasters. He is the creator and narrator of Sleepy , a bedtime story podcast with thousands of listeners that tune in each week to hear Grey’s baritone voice lull them to sleep.
For Grey, the process of recording a sleep podcast starts with a public domain book from the library. After sitting in his closet and recording himself reading aloud for about an hour, he edits any mistakes in his narration, before the final product is ready.
“People want a bedtime companion ... The thing that attracts people is the intimacy of a bedtime
podcast where it feels like someone is sitting in your bed reading to you. It makes people feel like a kid again,” he said.
Grey recently produced his 400th episode of Sleepy, a milestone he has been working toward since 2018. He said the timeless art of storytelling is why listeners tune in to each episode.
“What it does is it distracts them just enough that their brain gets engaged in a story, and before they know it, they are dead asleep.”
Justine Castillo, a third-year Carleton journalism and English student, listens to narration-style content on YouTube for the same companionship reasons Grey outlined.
“I usually pick episodes that I’ve already watched and I just put them on speaker and have it on my night table,” he said. “I use that noise of people talking to fall asleep.”
Within 15 to 20 minutes of pressing play, Castillo said he is fast asleep.
Despite widespread use, Davies said sleep podcasts are not a cure-all solution for bad sleep. Instead, it is one piece of the puzzle to having good sleep hygiene.
Davies said caffeine intake, screen time and room temperature can all affect sleep quality. However, there are no negative effects to sleep podcasts, he said, especially if they get listeners tucked into bed.
However, Castillo said he has concerns of overdependence on technology when building a night time routine.
“It’s not a big fear, but it’s there,” he said. “It’s just a fear of overdependence on something like my phone to help me sleep.”
Although sleep podcasts may not offer any magic cure, they provide comfort for many listeners. For people who struggle to get into a restful headspace, a soothing voice may be all it takes to feel like a kid again.
Sleep podcasts provide a unique remedy for bedtime blues. Graphic by Alisha Velji
ABYSSINIA ABEBE & JUSTIN BALL
