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The Aesthetics Studio:
UTM Alumna’s Creative Journey to a Local Pop-Up
The accomplished small business will set up shop at the Erin Mills Town Centre from November 16 to 29 after winning second place in local business contest.
niversity of Toronto Mississauga
Sameera Muna Contributor
Photo credit: Hannah Wang
CSE Facilitates UTMs First Indigenous Access Day for Local Students
The new initiative introduced Indigenousidentifying students from the Peel District School Board to UTM and university life.
sight from the event’s Indigenous student facilitators. “The other piece of feedback was that they wanted to see even more of the campus.”
On October 2, the Centre for Student Engagement (CSE) hosted an Indigenous Access Day, the first of its kind at the University of Toronto Mississauga (UTM).
Eight Indigenous-identifying student invitees from the Peel District School Board participated in the event led by Indigenous staff and students. The participants toured the campus and “were introduced to academic, cultural, social and financial supports and programs,” according to a UTM news article.
According to UTM’s website, an Access Day is “a one-day event curated to enhance youth’s knowledge of post-secondary education.” Past Access Days have covered student financial planning, the transition from high school to university, and the importance of post-secondary education, among other topics.
The October 2 event marks the first Access Day curated specifically for Indigenous students. In an e-mail interview with The Medium, Delaney Thomas, the CSE’s Community Engagement Coordinator for Indigenous Access and Inclusion, provided insight into the motivation for making it happen.
Through the initiative, “we hope that Indigenous students feel empowered to consider post-secondary as a realistic option for our communities and combining western education with traditional Indigenous knowledge to uplift our respective communities,” explained Thomas.
The Access Day was well-received by participants, who commended the in-
UTMSU Hosts “Chills and Thrills” Event in Celebration of Halloween
The Five Day Event saw multiple organizations work together to craft various events catering to students’ fears.
TDelaney expressed that the CSE plans to host more similar Access Day initiatives in the future and expand upon them by partnering with reserve communities or exploring online delivery options.
She also placed the new initiative within the context of ongoing reconciliation efforts more broadly.
According to a study by Statistics Canada, non-Indigenous youth aged 19 to 30 were “nearly twice as likely to have completed or recently attended a postsecondary program as First Nations youth,” at 72 per cent to 37 per cent. In Ontario, postsecondary participation is at 73 per cent for non-Indigenous and 45 per cent for First Nations youth.
The study was “guided by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) Calls to Action” for organizations, all levels of governments, and Canadian citizens to “redress the legacy of residential schools and advance the process of Canadian reconciliation.”
As of January 1, 2024, of the 94 calls to action drawn up in 2015, 39 are in progress, and 26 are stalled or not started, according to Canada’s Indigenous Watchdog. Of the seven calls to action related to education, five remain incomplete.
Following the TRC’s work, the University of Toronto (U of T) commissioned its own truth and reconciliation report in 2017, complete with 34 long- and shortterm calls to action for the U of T community.
“By prioritizing Indigenous access to post-secondary,” Delaney explained, “we are disrupting the historical patterns of excluding Indigenous thought and voices from western institutions.”
o capture Halloween spirit, the University of Toronto Mississauga Student Union (UTMSU) organized a weeklong program dubbed “Chills and Thrills” for students to partake in, from October 21 to 25.
The event consisted of a new Halloweenthemed activity every day for a week. The lineup included tote bag painting, a movie night, a haunted house, a pub night at the Blind Duck Pub, a trip to Canada’s Wonderland, and a pumpkin carving contest, the winners of which were announced on Halloween.
The tote bag painting event was a joint effort by the UTMSU’s Here to Help program (formerly Peer Support Program) and the World University Service Canada’s (WUSC) UTM chapter. The program was a drop-in event that took place at 11 am on October 21 and was held at the Student Centre Presentation Room. Students were provided with tote bags, paints, glitter, and all the materials they could need.
The movie night event, Scream Fest, in collaboration with the UTM Film Club, screened Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, a Halloween flick chosen by students. The Medium interviewed Jacqueline Agyei-Odame, one of the presidents of the Film Club, to find out more about the event.
The Fest took place on October 22, at 7 pm in IB140, which was decked out in Halloween decorations and had a photo booth where students could take Polaroid pictures, to remind them of the memories made at the event. Additionally, with a run time of only one hour and 17 minutes, the movie was conveniently timed to serve as a little break for students from the monotony of studying.
The UTMSU partnered with the English and Drama Student’s Society (EDSS) and the UTM Arts Club for the haunted house event, Escape from Erindale, which was held in the student centre on October 23, from 7:30 pm onwards.
As per the president of the EDSS, Shunsho Ando Heng and the co-presidents of the UTM Arts Club, Belinda Zhao and Vanessa Finnerty, the storyline for the haunted house revolved around a UTM student who failed their midterm and placed a curse on the university, turning everyone into ghouls.
To create a fusion of a haunted house and an escape room, the students in the haunted house were tasked with finding a specific four-word phrase (No more 8 am midterms), which was the key to exorcising the Student Centre.
The haunted house made use of both silence and scare tactics and featured scare actors, who were UTM students primarily sourced from the Theatre and Drama Studies, Drama and Dramaturgy, CCIT, and English programs. The haunted house featured many jump scares, including ghouls banging on the lockers and screaming, student-chasing ghouls, and a dead body.
The next event, which took place on October 24, was the Last Dance Pub Night, held at the Blind Duck Pub. The Blind Duck had been transformed into a spooky lair, and students were dressed to the nines in their Halloween costumes. There was a costume contest at the end of the night, with the best costume prizes awarded for both singles and groups.
The UTMSU also organized a trip to Canada’s Wonderland annual Halloween Haunt event as part of day four of Chills and Thrills. According to Joy Pius, the UTMSU’s VP Campus Life, the event took place on October 25, and the UTMSU provided students with discounted tickets, inclusive of transportation to and from Wonderland. The Halloween Haunt event consisted of specific Wonderland rides and six haunted houses, where employees were dressed up as popular scary characters.
The last event of the weeklong program was a pumpkin carving contest which was held virtually to promote sustainability. On the reasoning behind choosing such a venue, Pius revealed that since students often carve pumpkins at home with family and friends, hosting the contest online would reduce the amount of waste that would normally be produced, thereby supporting more ecofriendly practices.
Jia Bawa Associate Opinion Editor
Aaron Calpito Associate News Editor
Photo credit: Blossom Kalu-Otisi
Photo credit: Cary Chen
First Nations Leaders Reject Historic Child Welfare Reform Deal
The deal would have legally bound Canada to provide $47.8 billion over 10 years to fund a reformed child welfare program.
Celesta Maniatogianni Associate News Editor
On October 17th, First Nations Chiefs from across Canada voted against a resolution to accept a $47.8 billion child welfare reform deal reached in July with the Canadian government. 267 out of 414 chiefs voted against the resolution, with 147 votes cast in its favour.
Hosted in Calgary by the Assembly of First Nations (AFN), a national advocacy group for the rights and quality of life for Indigenous people in Canada, the three-day-long meeting of First Nations leaders included hearings and a debate which ended in the resolution being struck down.
The deal aimed to begin a long-term reform of the First Nations Child and Family Services Program and Jordan’s Principle, initiatives that ensure all First Nations families and children living in Canada can access the culturally-based public services and supports they need.
The Government of Canada said it has made every effort to reach a fair, equitable, and comprehensive resolution and has made “significant investments” towards reforming such programs.
These investments were in response to the 2016 Canadian Human Rights Tribunal (CHRT), which decided that First Nations children in Canada were being discriminated against by the federal government. The legal fight over the federal government’s underfunding of on-reserve child welfare services has been ongoing for nearly two decades.
The deal which the Canadian government eventually brought forward had been critiqued by First Nations Chiefs for months due to it not being enough to ensure the end of discrimina-
tion against Indigenous people and children in Canada.
In a statement at the end of the Assembly, AFN National Chief Cindy Woodhouse Nepinak said that the vote was about “securing the right agreement” that respects the diverse perspectives of First Nations communities across the country. “The results of this Assembly send a strong message to the Government of Canada that they must do better…We recognize the need for further work,” stated Nepinak.
Indigenous Services Minister Patty Hajdu said it is up to the AFN to come up with and negotiate a new deal with the federal government regarding child welfare reforms.
Hajdu’s press secretary, Jennifer Kozelj, stated that although “no amount of compensation will make up for the harm caused, this is one step forward to addressing harms that were inflicted on communities and families”
Her statement echoes the concerns of some assembly members who voted in favour of the deal, who fear that its rejection is an overall setback for the First Nations communities of Canada. Ashley Bach, one of the plaintiffs in the class action lawsuit which led to the 2016 CHRT decision, said that the deal was a once-in-a-lifetime agreement and that “if we take too long, we’re going to lose another generation.”
Some AFN members have brought forward their own resolutions and advice for how the AFN should proceed in drafting a new deal for child welfare.
Khelsilem Tl’akwasikan, chairperson for Squamish Nation, and Judy Wilson, proxy chief for Skawahlook First Nation both put forward resolutions which called for the creation of a commission comprising leadership from all regions of Canada to negotiate and provide insight for a new deal.
The next steps for developing a new deal to negotiate will be discussed at the upcoming AFN meeting in Toronto this December. The First Nations Child and Family Caring Society, which voiced concerns over the deal’s rejection, says it is preparing resolutions for the meeting.
Illustration credit:
Buket S. Baykal
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In one ear and out the other: land acknowledgements are performative and empty gestures
Your next public event will acknowledge Indigenous communities, but hundreds of those communities still do not have access to clean drinking water and live in inhumane conditions.
May Alsaigh Copy Editor
“What’s that?”
This was my Indigenous coworker’s response after I asked him what he thought about land acknowledgements. In his thirties, born and raised in Mississauga, he had no idea what they were.
I was perplexed and thought he was playing a joke until his cousin told me she had never heard about them either until a couple of years ago at her kid’s school concert. Even after I explained what they were, he said he had never heard about these statements before.
This affirmed my belief that land acknowledgements are not only performative and empty gestures, but they don’t serve the Indigenous community as much as we think they do. My experience taught me that not even Indigenous people know what land acknowledgements are. So does that mean we are doing a good job by including them in our next speech, or should we be doing more? In Canada, there seems to be an apparent disconnect from Indigenous realities and whether land acknowledgements genuinely serve a greater purpose than just a moral apology.
We’ve grown up reading land acknowledgements in signatures of corporate emails and hearing them in morning school announcements, city council meetings, and graduation ceremonies; but do we really know how to help Indigenous communities aside from honouring their history and land? Have we meditated on more productive measures to address and rectify our country’s brutal colonial history and present?
Unfortunately, the answer is no. Let’s face it: our responsibility is to think about Indigenous peoples and acknowledge their history—at least until the next public event. But are we working to resolve the perpetual issue of missing and murdered Indigenous women? Are we concerned that even though Canada has the world’s third-largest freshwater reserves, more than 600 First Nations communities still don’t have clean and safe drinking water?
Last month, I attended a friend’s graduation. The convocation invited an Indigenous performer on stage before the ceremony to sing and perform an honour song. Her boyfriend, who I was sitting next to, made belittling comments during the performance while all I could think of
was how honoured I was to experience it. It upset me that he could not see the significance of this moment or appreciate its cultural richness. Instead, he undermined something deeply meaningful for many people, not just Indigenous communities.
His attitude reflected a broader issue of ignorance toward Indigenous culture and made me wonder if more exposure to Indigenous cultural aspects could resist this dismissive attitude. Many of us do not support or even properly address Indigenous communities because all we were taught were land acknowledgements and colonialism’s terrible impacts via outdated textbooks. We were never given the opportunity to appreciate and celebrate Indigenous culture, which, in return, has made us regard them as outsiders in their own country, leaving us entirely unaware of how to uplift them.
Here are some other things we can do, big or small:
1. Host a book night or start a book club that celebrates Indigenous authors and analyze, reflect on, and enjoy Indigenous text.
One thing that has resonated with me is a statement I heard in a documentary I watched in class last year. Though I cannot recall the name of the film, the documentary featured Indigenous families sharing their experiences facing systemic racism in the child welfare system. One woman shared something I will never forget—if a person from a country like Greece wanted to learn more about where they’re from, they could just visit Greece and surround themselves with its culture, but if an Indigenous person wanted to learn more about their heritage, they have nowhere to go.
It is undoubtedly important to recognize Indigenous groups and express commitments to honour and support Indigenous rights, but the problem is that we are simply doing nothing beyond acknowledging the impact of colonization. We should not only hold our government accountable, but ourselves, and act beyond just our words.
Thus, it is our responsibility to advocate for and work with Indigenous communities, but to also act and think beyond just land acknowledgements to adequately support Indigenous communities and celebrate Indigenous culture.
We can go a step further than merely acknowledging the land we are on by including links in our email signatures to Indigenous-led charities dedicated to supporting Indigenous communities.
2. Host a movie night and watch Indigenousmade films: here’s a list of movies with Indigenous actors and stories.
3. Donate to Indigenous-led non-profit organizations like Cultural Survival that are dedicated to helping Indigenous communities around the globe.
4. If you are hosting an event, dedicate a few moments for attendees to learn and donate to Indigenous-led charities and organizations.
5. Shop from Indigenous-owned businesses.
6. Attend Indigenous events, seminars, and workshops to be more informed about Indigenous history, culture, and conversations.
7. Create more scholarships and education opportunities for Indigenous students.
8. Share Indigenous-founded platforms such as podcasts, YouTube channels, and other social media pages on your social media accounts.
For a country with a history marked by colonization, forced assimilation, violence, broken treaties, cultural erasure, and systemic discrimination, Canada has done little to genuinely adhere to the needs of Indigenous peoples. Instead, it has often opted for superficial gestures of acknowledgment that deflect responsibility rather than addressing the profound injustices faced by these communities. To genuinely connect with and support Indigenous communities, whose land and resources we consistently rely on, we must think beyond land acknowledgements into more productive and ambitious calls for action.
Illustration credit: Ramiya Sureshkumar
Thinking Beyond the “Suffering Indigenous” To be Indigenous
Indigeneity crosses the oceans and extends beyond the continents. Being Indigenous surpasses pain and pity.
Yasmine Benabderrahmane Contributor
My hurt is not Indigenous, nor is my suffering.
There is an incompetency in reducing my identity to trauma and basing it as a threshold for my indigeneity. As an Amazigh native to Northern Africa, I am indigenous Tamazgha, not its history of colonialism.
And this definition of indigeneity crosses the oceans and extends beyond the continents. For being Indigenous surpasses pain and pity.
To be Indigenous is to be the land.
When the oppressors, the oppressors’ friends, and the bastard sons failed to conquer the land, they tried to train me to conquer it instead. But I am my land, for my land is me. It is so that when I breathe, the air becomes a part of me. I am bound from the clay of the earth and the water of the sea. I tend for the land and in return, the land tends to me.
To be Indigenous is to be the spirit of my ancestors.
When the oppressors, the oppressors’ friends, and the bastard sons failed to repress me, they tried to repress my mind. But my ancestors’ knowledge is written in the weaves of my braids, in the threads of my garments, and the muscles of my tongue.
To be Indigenous is to be the past, present, and future.
When the oppressors, the oppressors’ friends, and the bastard sons failed to occupy me, they tried to occupy my voice. But my words are echoes of my mother’s, her mother’s, and all who have come before. My stories are intertwined in the ululations carried by the wind.
And this definition of indigeneity crosses the oceans and extends beyond the continents. For being Indig enous surpasses pain and pity.
In Turtle Island, the land is synonymous with the First Nations, Inuit, and Metis people — where the lilting cadence of the wind guides the heart; where the rain replenishes the soil and the soil replenishes the mind; and, as the people care for it, the earth cares for the soul.
In Sudan, the land is synonymous with the Sudanese — where the Nile’s abundance parallels the generosity of its people; where the sand of the desert dunes trickle among the travelers; and the Nuba Mountains stand fierce in pride.
In Palestine, the land is synonymous with the Palestinian people — where the roots of olive trees transcend the claims of the foreigner; where the or anges of Yaffa paint the zest of the people; and the iris flowers reflect collective honour.
In an age of subtle stereotypes and a hazy media climate, what does it means to reimagine Indigenous existence independent of trauma and suffering?
Using trauma as an analytical tool to address Indigenous peoples’ issues creates a skewed perception of the situation amongst these populations. Indeed, concentrating on suffering tends to make the stories of Indigenous peoples — be they Indigenous Palestinians, Native Americans, or First Nations Canadians — predominantly about oppression. Although these representations draw from real-life experiences of colonial injustice, Indigenous subjugation, and transmission of generational wounds, they erase other truths about Indigenous peoples, including their adaptive endurance, ethnic vibrancy, and successes. Centering such discourse around historical trauma and oppression also sustains stereotypes, dehumanizes Indigenous peoples, and perpetuates colonial power structures.
In Aotearoa, the land is synonymous with the Māori — where the harakeke plant defines the family unit; where the land is honored as treasure and the people as its protectors; and the earth translates the cosmos beings.
And this definition of indigeneity crosses the oceans and extends beyond the continents.
The context of the Indigenous is abundant and rich. It encompasses life and its cycle, from birth to death, from season to season. It embodies the stories and their orators, the people, and their souls. It travels across lands and laces into spirits.
It is only the oppressors, the oppressors’ friends, and the bastard sons that ridicule indigeneity in the pain and pity enforced upon us. For my hurt and suffering is not Indigenous, and neither is yours.
The media and its over-representation
Indigenous communities are often framed in the language of victimhood. These narratives imprison Indigenous people to a past social construction that makes them survivors of suffering instead of their current rich identities as individuals, families,
How many of us really know the history of Indigenous Canadians independent of their suffering? Indigenous history did not start with the colonizer’s arrival on Indigenous shores. But we are taught to think about Indigenous experiences through a lens of exploitative stereotypes and oftentimes a sensationalism of suffering. The media is a major culprit here, where a disproportionate emphasis on Indigenous suffering heightens the experience of ‘trauma porn,’ in which suffering is exploited and given prominence.
By over-representing despair, the media makes us believe that Indigenous people are somehow fundamentally helpless; or, even worse, that they cannot progress without the help of others in power. These stereotypes then become the bedrock of discrimination and disparity deeply rooted in our institutions and culture. For instance, a belief that other ethnic groups, specifically Indigenous people, are inherently worthless may explain why the governments provide little funds for their education and healthcare needs.
These media-fuelled Indigenous stereotypes also normalize the deflection of accountability. Denying Indigenous people agency over their own stories simply makes it easier to believe that Indigenous communities’ deprivation of resources, funding, and support are somehow deserved rather than the result of sovereign colonization.
In our current media climate, non-Indigenous organizations own the right to tell Indigenous stories, sistering colonialism once more. Whenever media, schools, or policymakers define how Indigenous lives should be represented, they consider telling stories that support the status quo and rob people of their personhoods and collective liberation.
In other words, those in power must be more careful not to cross the line when talking about or using the theme of trauma. This means focusing on successful Indigenous leadership and innovation as much as on suffering. I also believe that rectification starts with not only shifting where the attention of the media goes, but by acknowledging how colonialism and white supremacy still rooted in our media ecosystem.
Learning from the past, empowering the future
Journalists are entrusted with the facts and the lived realities of their subjects. Despite this, journalism has historically failed marginalized communities. Rectifying this starts with Indigenous people having full agency as subjects of news stories and narrative. For instance, The Guardian constantly features articles by Indigenous people, not influenced by non-Indigenous people.
In my opinion, an essential step towards pursuing truth and reconciliation is employing Indigenous talent, engaging the community, telling Indigenous stories by and for Indigenous people, and turning the focus to strength instead of suffering or hardship.
Another aspect of education lies in people’s ability to learn Indigenous histories and cultures as active processes in curricula rather than as unfortunate subtopics of schooling. For instance, the lesson plans that include Indigenous science, governance, and arts are often ridden with subtle forms of stereotyping and messaging that disempowers “victims.”.
Unfortunately, when Indigenous people are only represented as a commodity, our society is left deprived. Such a one-sided perception reduces people of colour from active agents in colonial violence to mere objects that receive colonial violence, providing no space for justice and mutual understanding.
Proper Indigenous representation means having people and institutions consciously fight against their ethnocentricity and search for real Indigenous people and their material culture. The media provides only the suffering side of life, backlogging the success stories, cultural revival, and progress accomplished by the community.
Consumers must actively decode what they read, watch, or listen to, and think about who or what is not being communicated. And I doubt our media literacy skills are enough to accommodate the systemic failures of modern journalism.
To understand Indigenous experiences independent of the pain colonizers have inflicted on them is one step towards transferring the power back to the hands of those it was stolen from. As we reimagine Indigenous narratives, there is an urgent need to rearrange the position of Indigenous people who are still portrayed as inveterate victims who do not possess histories, diverse cultures, and prosperous futures worth narrating. Only then can we find our way toward a more equitable future for Indigenous peoples that honours their pain, dreams, and triumphs.
Vanessa Bogacki Staff Writer
Illustration credit: Ramiya Sureshkumar
YasmineIllustration:Benabderrahmane
Exploring the historical and present harms of journalism
As student journalists, we should make Indigenous perspectives a priority in our storytelling, not an afterthought.
Sehajleen Kaur Wander Contributor
Newsrooms often pride themselves on being “objective” or “neutral.” “What are the facts of the story?” they ask. But for Indigenous communities, this “objectivity” has often acted as a mask for prejudice, misrepresentation, and distrust.
The concept of objective journalism initially arose, not as a call for “unbiased” reporting, but rather a call to make reporting more scientific. However, in the words of Trina Roache, a prominent Indigenous reporter, this objectivity has turned journalism from an art of “storytelling” to merely “story-taking.” This has been historically weaponized to neglect Indigenous voices and perspectives in the stories that impact them the most.
Inside the newsroom
To understand how and why this happens, the first place we might want to peep into is the actual newsrooms where the magic happens. And let’s be real, when it comes to diversity, Canadian newsrooms still have a lot of work to do. According to the Canadian Association of Journalists’ 2023 Diversity Survey, Indigenous journalists make up just 5.2% of newsroom staff, almost exactly in line with their share of the Canadian population. But with just a little digging, the picture becomes much more complicated.
Most of these journalists are in either part-time or entry-level roles, and Indigenous voices are almost entirely absent from leadership positions. These leadership positions, as you might have guessed, are still predominantly white and male.
So, what does this lack of representation mean for the news we consume? It means that stories about Indigenous communities are often shaped by perspectives that are not their own. Take, for example, the tragic case of Joyce Echaquan, an Indigenous woman who died in a Quebec hospital after nurses subjected her to racist abuse. Early reports focused on her death as a medical issue, but the systemic racism she faced leading to the lack of proper treatment and abuse only came to light after Indigenous advocates spoke out. Imagine if there had been more Indigenous journalists in the newsroom when this story broke. Would the coverage have been more empathetic? Would the broader context of racism in healthcare have been clearer from the start? It’s hard to say, but the impact of misrepresentation is undeniable.
And here’s the thing: when communities feel misrepresented or excluded from the media narrative, trust in the press takes a hit. For many Indigenous and racialized communities, news organizations are seen as outsiders: institutions that either overlook their stories or misframe them entirely. When marginalized communities don’t trust journalists, they’re less likely to engage with the media, which makes it harder to tell their stories.
The pitfalls of objectivity and bolstering stereotypes
Appealing to objectivity, especially in classic news stories, allows journalists a ready-made formula for ignoring a nuanced colonial history and writing articles based on how much digital traction, emotion, and public attention they can garner. When Indigenous people are covered in the media, it’s often through a narrow and damaging lens: as victims, rebels, or “good Indians” who’ve successfully assimilated.
Simple steps, like regularly consulting Indigenous communities and ensuring Indigenous journalists and students are part of the reporting process, can make a transformative impact.
Crystal Maslin’s research into Saskatchewan newspapers highlights how these stereotypes show up. Indigenous people are portrayed either as “troublemakers” or as model citizens who don’t rely on government support, which conveniently ignores the larger structural issues at play.
Take the Oka Crisis, for example. When Mohawk activists clashed with the Canadian Army over land rights, the media reduced a deeply complex struggle for Indigenous sovereignty to a simple “us vs. them” narrative. Instead of unpacking the broader history of colonialism and land dispossession, the coverage focused on the confrontation itself, missing the bigger picture entirely.
A lot of it boils down to sensationalized news framing that treat complex issues like the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) crisis as tragic statistics, rather than a call for justice. Too often, Indigenous women are portrayed only as victims, stripping away the agency of survivors and the voices of their families. This narrow lens does nothing to address the systemic violence at the heart of the crisis.
Similar sensationalization was observed during the media frenzy around the discovery of unmarked graves at the former Kamloops Residential School. Journalists rushed to cover the story, but in their haste, they ignored the cultural and emotional needs of the Indigenous families and communities who were mourning. As Kelsie Kilawna, an Indigenous advocate pointed out, Indigenous mourning traditions were treated with little regard, making the media coverage feel exploitative rather than compassionate.
But the problem doesn’t stop with news stories. Online comment sections, particularly in outlets like the National Post, are full of racist and hateful language that goes largely unmoderated. It’s a toxic environment that fuels division, and it’s one of the reasons why outlets like CBC had to shut down comments on Indigenous articles altogether.
The cycle of underrepresentation and mistrust can be so damaging. If we want to break it, we need to start by diversifying newsroom staff, leadership, and decision-making. This isn’t just about checking boxes, it’s about ensuring that the stories we tell reflect the full, complex reality of the world we live in. For Indigenous communities, it would require us to be more critical of “objectivity” that often fails to capture the full truth of their stories.
So how exactly do we approach news reporting with indigenous communities to decolonize newsrooms and journalism? Anishinaabe journalist Duncan McCue, who teaches a course on Indigenous reporting at UBC, advocates for a trauma-informed approach. His approach, which centers resilience over victimhood, reframes Indigenous people not just as victims but as communities that rise, challenge, and endure, even in the face of historical injustice.
Safeguarding journalists means protecting free speech
Therefore, the stakes are high, and not just in Canada. Globally, journalists who report on colonized and marginalized communities face life-threatening risks. Since the onset of the IsraelPalestine conflict, over 180 journalists have lost their lives while documenting the realities of genocide and occupation at the hands of Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government. And while the Israeli government denies and avoids any accountability or recognition, evidence suggesting the deliberate targeting of journalists cannot be ignored.
Their dedication highlights just how crucial it is in the context of settler-colonialism, to tell stories of resilience and survival with care and criticism. Media outlets like Al Jazeera, which are committed to amplifying voices from conflict-ridden regions, remind us that thoughtful, human-centered journalism has a critical role in exposing injustice worldwide. Amidst all of this, Netflix has allegedly removed a catalogue of its films and documentaries centering the Palestinian experience, a decision which has been met with justified skepticism and criticism.
In the context of student-run newspapers like The Medium, we have a unique responsibility to lead this change, starting with our approach to Indigenous stories.
This starts with shifting our approach to Indigenous issues, making their voices central to the conversation, not just as subjects, but as active contributors. Simple steps, like regularly consulting Indigenous communities and ensuring Indigenous journalists and students are part of the reporting process, can make a transformative impact. As student journalists, we should make Indigenous perspectives a priority, not an afterthought.
Illustration credit: Sehajleen Kaur Wander
08 features
Editor | Madhav Ajayamohan features@themedium.ca
Indigenous Way of Life: Simplicity
is The Secret to Happiness
Indigenous approaches to life teach us ways to fill our hearts fuller.
Gisele Tang Associate Features Editor
WCommunity
Gratitude as a default mindset
hen the word ‘Indigenous’ comes up, many first think of land acknowledgement or Indigenous history. But have you ever thought of the simple pleasures their holistic approach to life can bring? Let’s look at some lessons we can learn from the Indigenous community to take our happiness to the next level.
Synchronizing with Nature
It is well-known that Indigenous people spend a lot of time in nature, whether it is while they are hunting game or gathering materials. They value their connection with nature immensely. This lifestyle contributes much to their well-being. A good example is how Indigenous communities align their lifestyle with seasonal changes.
Many Indigenous communities traditionally spend spring and summer preparing for the oncoming winter. They start their preparations in spring, as they start planting their crops. The summer was used for harvesting crops, hunting, and fishing to gather more food and resources for the winter.
Despite the dangers of the winter, the Indigenous people viewed the winter as a slower, calmer “resting season” that nature offers us. As Webb Bennett of the Gitselasu First Nation near Terrace, B.C., explains, “Winter was mainly our time to hunker down and feast, sing, dance and tell stories that taught our children about our culture and language.”
It is easy to feel down and unmotivated during winter with the freezing weather and limited daylight. But if we start to view winter the way Indigenous communities do, we might be able to appreciate the slower, calmer “resting season” that nature offers us.
As humans, we are built to live in a community with support and love from others. We need to build strong relationships with others and help each other in times of need. Indigenous communities placed particular importance on building strong relationships with each other. One example is the Indigenous community’s storytelling traditions.
Stories are crucial for Indigenous communities to pay tribute to their ancestors’ endeavours and pass on their culture to future generations. By honouring this tradition, people can better comprehend their history and experience their culture.
Take the Métis Oral Tradition as an example. Usually, their stories have no defined beginning, middle or end. Instead, each story is a part of the ever-growing Indigenous history. The oral tradition not only teaches listeners about the past but also creates new stories for the future.
The purpose of stories is not just to show a single perspective. Rather, the message of the story is left up to the listeners. People of different ages may interpret the story differently and take away different values from them.
Other Indigenous traditions, such as Moose Hair Embroidery and Canoe Making, are also common. They are great for people to bond with their loved ones and practice patience, as well as self-expression.
Each of these traditions has a strong underlying theme of respecting others, working together, and the idea of how we are all connected. In the current age, it might not be a bad idea to take a beat and remember how we aren’t that much different from each other.
The habit of practicing gratitude is embedded in Indigenous communities. You might have heard the phrase “giving back to the land” or instances of Indigenous communities blessing the animals they have hunted down.
These are all methods by which Indigenous people pay respect for things they receive. It is easy for us to take our daily resources for granted. But we need to appreciate all that we have, from the foods we get to enjoy each day to the land we get to go to school on.
Moreover, it is not uncommon for us to only focus on ‘getting the job done.’ On the other hand, Indigenous communities value the process, knowledge, and wisdom they gain through achieving their goals.
Take cooking as an example. Many of us might feel like it requires too much. Why cook when we can just order from Uber Eats? However, Indigenous traditions teach us that there is much beauty in the process itself.
Can you recall a time when you cooked something and thought it was the best thing you have ever eaten? That flavour is the fruit of your efforts and stems from a sense of accomplishment.
Having this appreciative mindset, no matter the time or challenges it takes to achieve your goal can bring much more positive energy to your life. After all, you do receive what you give.
These simple habits that Indigenous communities uphold focus on fulfilling the basic but crucial human needs. We might easily get out of touch with these aspects of human lives in a fast-paced city. Through learning about Indigenous culture, we could be reminded of the beauty in simplicity.
Illustration credit: Buket S. Baykal
09 Arts
Indigenous literature recommendations
non-fiction, and poetry
Zainab Hassan Associate Arts & Entertainment Editor
As November settles in, we’re all thinking too much about assignments and pointedly not about finals. We need—well, godly intervention would be nice—but at the very least, a distraction. Something to do that will distract us from university, and the wind chill, if only for a bit. So, I’m pushing the reading agenda. And since American Thanksgiving and Black Friday are coming up soon, why not focus on and uplift Indigenous voices? You know, since we haven’t historically had a great track record.
Below are some of my favourite fiction, nonfiction, and poetry books written by Indigenous authors about Indigenous people that I have either read or have on my TBR list, and you should too.
Fiction
• Prairie Edge by Conor Kerr
Following the misadventures of two cousins who decide to protest by letting a herd of bison loose in Edmonton, this story dissects themes of protest, performance, and the danger of cynicism on long-term movements. Dark humour is a skill I appreciate in my literature and Conor Kerr delivers. You’re torn between the need to laugh and the need to look away. However, the writing is so brutally honest about the themes it discusses that you don’t even get to look away.
• Never Whistle at Night:
An Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology
It is a common belief among many Indigenous people that you should not whistle at night lest you beckon some spirit left undisturbed. Well, this book summoned my attention, and now it’s haunting me. This anthology is witty, sharp, and vivid in both imagery and imagination as it celebrates Indigenous storytelling. Not only is this a great way to familiarise yourself with many Indigenous authors very fast and an even better way to spend a late night, but it also makes me very glad that I don’t know how to whistle. Never Whistle at Night is an easy and fun read with something for everyone, and I highly recommend it.
• Five Little Indians by Michelle Good
This is Michelle Good’s debut novel from 2020, which follows the story of five survivors of the Canadian Indian residential school system. It is visceral, viscous and utterly haunting. Despite it being a work of fiction, you know that it’s true. If reading this book does not intimately change the way you view the world and its history, then very few things will.
Non-Fiction
• Clearing the Plains by James Daschuk
Recommended to me by a friend as an absolute must-read for everyone living in Canada, Clearing the Plains is a documentation of all the ways Europeans tried to erase the First Nations in Canada for the sake of taking over and utilizing their land. For all that we acknowledge Canada’s existence as a direct result of colonial violence, we tend to gloss over the severity of the genocide and ethnic cleansing that took place. This book puts them on stark display. I particularly recommend it to all UTM students. Our campus is on stolen land. We should understand precisely how it got there.
• Making Space for Indigenous Feminism by Gina Starblanket Self-explanatory. This book explores the intersectionality and generational thinking of Indigenous feminism to make sense of how these problems continue to be criminally neglected today.
• Peace and Good Order: The Case for Indigenous Justice in Canada by Harold Johnson Even more self-explanatory. Read it, understand it, and then go do something about it.
Poetry
It’s always hard for me to give poetry recommendations just because I have so many and no one else ever has the time. But here I present my top three poetry recommendations written by Indigenous authors:
• Crushed Wild Mint by Jess Housty.
• The Star Poems by Jesse Rae Archibald-Barber
• It Was Never Going to Be Okay by Jaye Simpson
Each of these anthologies is poignant and painful, twisting and breath-stopping. Each piece will move you, and when you reach the end, you must flip back and have another go. Reading this poetry hurts in the most visceral, beautiful way, and that’s how you know it’s good.
Netflix’s newest documentary on the power and resistance of Canada’s Indigenous people
Exploring the themes presented in the documentary, and why stories like these must be told.
Emma Catarino Contributor
YINTAH was released on Netflix on October 18, 2024, and documents the decade-long struggle between British Columbia’s Indigenous people and Coastal Gaslink (CGL) — a project funded by the Canadian government that would place oil pipelines directly through the unceded territory of the Wetsuwet’en people.
This documentary follows Howilkkat Freda Huson, a Chief of the Wetsuwet’en peoples, and highlights not only the Canadian government’s continued efforts to silence its Indigenous population but also the unwavering resilience that they are met with.
Yintah is the Wetsuwet’en word for “land,” which Indigenous people see not as a resource to be used for profit or gain but as a living being that should be respected. When confronting the CGL security supervisor, Dsta’hyl, a member of the Wetsuwet’en clan, says, “We do not own the land. We belong to the land. We are a part of the land.” Indigenous people fight to preserve the land because of their relationship with it but also to protect the environment.
Widzin Kwah is the river that runs through the Wetsuwet’en territory and connects them to the five other nearby clans. It is also the river under which CGL built its pipelines. An oil leak caused by those pipes would be disastrous, killing the lo-
cal salmon population and other marine life, and severely contaminating the water that the Wetsuwet’en people depend on.
YINTAH brings attention to Canada’s centuries-long genocide against Indigenous people — a genocide that continues today. “The founding fathers of this country were thieves and murderers. Their mandate was to annihilate us. And they couldn’t do it, so they trained us to annihilate ourselves and that’s where we are today,” said one member of the Wetsuwet’en clan.
Sleydo’ Molly Wickham, another prominent figure in the documentary, claims that a “silent war” exists between the government and its native population. A silent war where women are constantly being raped and murdered while the RCMP turn a blind eye. A silent war that has caused Canada’s Indigenous population to have a suicide rate three times higher than the non-Indigenous population. And a not-so-silent war that was brought to the attention of the public a few years ago when mass unmarked graves were found at the Kamloops Residential School. The documentary features all of these issues.
land, they’d use physical violence and arrest every Indigenous person present. Even while they were being beaten and handcuffed, the Wetsuwet’en people never ceased singing ancestral songs, displaying their strength and resilience.
The main subject of the documentary is the constant power struggle between the Canadian government (along with the CGL project and the RCMP) and the Indigenous resistance. YINTAH was filmed over a decade, and it thoughtfully pieced together clips that show the RCMP harassed the Wetsuwet’en people time and again, yet Huson and her people never backed down.
Multiple times throughout the documentary, the Wetsuwet’en people were peaceful and unarmed as they tried to protect their territory. Yet every time the RCMP arrived to trespass on their
The documentary ends by stating that the CGL project did end up being completed. But it also ended with a scene of Freda and people of the Wetsuwet’en clan, including children, speaking their languages and enjoying their land, showing that, while the government did complete its project, it didn’t succeed in silencing the Wetsuwet’en people.
Overall, YINTAH is a very powerful and well-done documentary. It reintroduces issues that the Canadian public has been aware of for years and shows that, while we like to think the government has reconciled with its Indigenous people, it still has big strides to make. Hopefully, putting this film on Netflix means that it will reach a large audience, inspiring others to advocate for the fair treatment of Canada’s Indigenous population.
The Indigenous origins of friendship bracelets
Despite now being associated with raves, Swifties, and fandoms, the practice of making and trading friendship bracelets has a completely different origin story.
the bracelet and, once it naturally falls off, the wish is believed to be granted. In others, if the bracelet was removed by the wearer, it represents the end of the friendship.
From summer camps to The Eras Tour, friendship bracelets have become increasingly popular, and many stores now sell premade bracelets. However, the practice has an even older history with different traditions, meanings, and importance.
The decorative knot tying commonly used in making woven friendship bracelets has been seen in Ancient China as early as 481-221 B.C., and the bracelets themselves originated from Indigenous peoples, mainly in Central America. Some of the most common patterns of friendship bracelets, such as chevron, diamond, and broken ladder, are based on sixteenth-century Indigenous Navajo weaving patterns. Macrame, another common technique in woven bracelets, has been traced back to thirteenth-century Arab textile art.
These bracelets were made by one friend for another, and were intended to be worn by the recipient until it naturally falls off their wrist. In some cultures, the recipient could make a wish when receiving
The colours used in the bracelet also hold meaning. Red often symbolizes honesty, black symbolizes strength, and so on. These colours were chosen to represent the characteristics of the recipient. In recent years, friendship bracelets among Indigenous communities have been worn as a form of solidarity and protest. In the 1980s, bracelets were shared by Mayans in Guatemala who resisted government repression, and in 2016 during protests against the Dakota Access Pipeline in the United States.
Saved by the Bell where the girls make a business selling bracelets at school. In the early 1990s, trading bracelets made their way into the electronic dance music (EDM) scene, particularly with “kandi” bracelets, which use coloured plastic beads. Today, handmade kandi bracelets are a popular phenomenon among many communities, most notably Taylor
Friendship bracelets have now become increasingly popular outside of Indigenous communities. In the 1960s, they became popular among countercultures, a result of North America appropriating “ethnic” clothing and traditions and making them “trendy.” In the 1980s, they trended among children, and were even included in a 1989 episode of
Swift fans, but also among other groups such as music festivals, Halloween Horror Nights, and even politicians.
However, the popularity of friendship bracelets has some unintended negative effects. Since kandi is the most common form, people make them in large amounts, enough to fill up their arm so they may trade with many other
fans. This results in a lot of plastic use, which damages the environment.
This mass production of bracelets also reduces their meaning. While it symbolizes unity within a fandom, sharing so many bracelets with mostly strangers waters down their original meanings from Indigenous cultures. This is especially so with stores now mass-selling friendship bracelets, especially kandi-style ones. What was once a creative form of friendship has now become overly commercialized. Some politicians have begun selling friendship bracelets with their own candidates’ names. This not only contributes to the aforementioned consumerism of these products, but it also appears disrespectful for a government that has historically oppressed Indigenous communities to use a practice originating in these communities to further their own interests.
Of course, friendship bracelets have evolved and are often made with the best intentions. It is important, however, to be aware of and respect their Indigenous origins, as well as to be aware of the impact they may have on the environment, especially the environment of stolen Indigenous land.
Skyler Piskoroski Associate Arts & Entertainment Editor
Photo credit: Sara Li
Illustration credit: Sehajleen Kaur Wander
11 sports & health
Who is Jim Thorpe?
Shedding light on the forgotten legendary history of Indigenous athlete, Jim Thorpe.
Maram Qarmout Contributor
Jim Thorpe, also known as WaTho-Huk, or The Bright Path, is the greatest athlete unknown to mankind. His career spanned across decades, and he excelled in football, baseball, track and field, basketball, hockey, and even ballroom dancing. While there have been a handful of dual-sport professional athletes throughout history, Thorpe’s dominance across the entire sporting world has truly never been replicated.
Athletic successes of Jim Thorpe
Thorpe was born near Prague, Indian Territory (now in Oklahoma) on May 28, 1888. He grew up as part of the Sac and Fox nation and graduated from Haskell Indian School and Carlisle (Pennsylvania) Indian Industrial School.
In 1907, Thorpe’s undefeated athletic era began. His first discovery into sports came through varsity track and field, where he broke each of his school’s high jump records.
But track just wasn’t enough for Thorpe. He begged his coach to let him tryout for the football team, and quickly made his mark. During the tryout, an article by History explained that Thorpe “eluded more than 30 players in an open-field drill,” shocking his coach, and immediately landed him a spot on the team. His innate athletic abilities didn’t end there, as he continued to dominate in basketball, boxing, lacrosse, swimming, hockey, handball and tennis, even winning an intercollegiate ballroom dancing championship.
fessional athletes from competing, and his medals were rescinded because he was found to be violating the Olympic’s former amateur policy. In 1983, the medals were returned to his family and his achievements were recognized by the Olympic Committee in official records in 2022.
Between baseball and football, Thorpe would dedicate 20 years to these two sports. Without failure, he led his teams to various championships. In one instance, he hit three homeruns in one game for the New York Giants, and led his team to three Ohio League Championships during his time with Canton Ohio Bulldogs.
For one year in 1920, Thorpe was unanimously voted as the first president of the American Professional Football Association, later renamed as the National Football League.
The PBS wrote that, in 1950 and many years following, Thorpe was featured in various Halls of Fame. Other honors included Oklahoma recognizing a state-wide day dedicated to Thorpe, the Postal Service commemorating him with his own stamp, an annual NFL award named after him that is awarded to athletes of exceptional athletic ability and character, and even the renaming of an entire Pennsylvania town.
Decades after his death, the House of Congress and ABC’s Wide World of Sports honoured Thorpe as the Athlete of the Century.
In 2024, President Joe Biden awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, one of the nation’s highest civilian honours. A century later and his name continues to reign the athletic world for his benevolence, remarkable athletic abilities, and courage as the first Native American to win an Olympic gold medal.
Indigenous legacy
Thorpe’s Indigenous legacy commenced when he broke all expectations of Euro-Americans at the time. The National Endowment for the Humanities explained that the Euro-Americans viewed the Indigenous as an inferior people that were “nearing extinction.” Thorpe shattered these beliefs the moment he was titled “the greatest all-around athletic marvel the
For the Indigenous communities who were facing land assimilations and subjected to horrendous crimes by the federal government, Thorpe was their shining knight in armor, who showcased to the world that Native Americans were as human as everyone else and as capable of succeeding as any Euro-
After retiring, Thorpe co-founded Indian Center, a casting company that helped Native Americans find movie roles. He continued to dedicate his life to the Native community, gaining the nickname “Akapamata,” meaning “Caregiver,” for his undivided love and care for the Indigenous people.
Jim Thorpe was a king, legend, historical figure, and renowned athlete.
Photo credit: Photo by Harris & Ewing on Unsplash
Eagles face adversity during basketball season opener in Scarborough
Men’s and women’s teams will have to wait until next week for their first league wins after a pair of tough losses.
Chloe Cathcart & Evan Mowder Contributors
Both the men’s and women’s basketball teams kicked off their regular season on the road at the Toronto Pan Am Sports Centre on Sunday November 3 against Scarborough (UTSC). Each team came off big wins in exhibition play (women’s team 34-29 vs Humber and men’s 86-39 vs Sheridan) and were looking to carry momentum into their season openers.
Men’s team falls short in back and forth battle
There’s plenty of bad blood between these two teams. UTM took down UTSC in the finals of back-to-back years in 2022 and 2023, and UTSC escaped with a one-point win in last year’s semifinals. Simply put, this was a highly anticipated matchup to kick off the season.
Coming into the game with only 9 available players at tip off, the Eagles played with a “next man up” mentality. UTSC jumped out to a quick early lead, pushing the tempo, and building on the home crowd’s energy. But the Eagles stayed composed. Despite some early foul trouble, they found rhythm offensively with strong takes from big man Andreas Jankovic and forward Amro Matti. The first half remained a back and forth affair, with both teams going on runs, but never letting the game get away from them. The game was all tied up going into the second half.
The second half saw UTSC jump out to an early lead after a series of contested pull ups and easy transition buckets. The Eagles found a spark from first-year player Zayd Mahmood off the bench, who was getting to the rim offensively and making some big blocks on the defensive end.
With time winding down, first-year guard Kent Lingat came off a screen and converted on a huge 4-point play to give the Eagles a one-point lead with less than 3 minutes to play. Unfortunately, the Eagles were unable
to capitalize on the momentum, and a poor spell of mental errors and rushed shots late in the game allowed UTSC to take control of the clock and hang on for the win.
With a mix of a returning veterans and young new pieces, the UTM Eagles look poised for a strong season. They understand this was not their best performance, and they recognize it’ll still be a long road before they return to championship glory.
Women’s team sees too little too late Coming into the season’s first game against UTSC, the UTM women’s team knew they would be in for a challenge. With a rebuilt roster and many new faces, the team’s mosaic of skills had yet to be established.
Despite UTSC’s aggressive start, UTM was undeterred and kept to their game plan. The first quarter ended with UTSC leading 16-2, but UTM was quick to adapt and find a balance between their diverse skill sets. By halftime, they had narrowed the gap, showing their resilience and determination.
Strong efforts from captain Fathema Shaikh and returning player Kaitlin Parsons helped UTM’s offensive strategy begin rolling. Shaikh knocked down a series of three-pointers throughout the game, leading the Eagles with 17 points.
UTM’s defensive game was not to be underestimated. Despite UTSC’s strong shooters, UTM regrouped and put up a strong fight. Dior Thorpe, a first-year forward, showcased her strength in the post, securing 9 rebounds and numerous steals. Her performance was a testament to the team’s all-round skills and determination.
Despite their effort, the Eagles fell short, losing 53-35. There were plenty of positive takeaways from the game, and the women’s team will learn from and reflect on the result before next week’s game. The Eagles will look to improve their rhythm and balance, utilizing their talent and skill sets going forward.
Stay tuned for more updates as the season unfolds as our Eagles look to regain league supremacy!
Eagles to take on St. George Red in outdoor soccer finals after big win
UTM women’s soccer season comes to a close, men’s keep rolling for one final game.
Pietro Arrigoni &
Columnist
Keira Johannson
Arts & Entertainment Editor
For the first time in program history, our UTM Eagles have made it to the finals of the men’s outdoor soccer season.
The men’s side were able to secure first seed ahead of playoffs after beating UTSC and UTSG Blue on the road, ending the regular season with a 5-1-0 undefeated record. They then hosted UTSC in the first round of playoffs on Sunday, although the game was played at North Field, in the heart of campus.
Men’s go 3-for-3 against Scarborough in the season with semi-finals win
Scarborough took a shock lead early on after a turnover of possession in the midfield, which quickly turned on a counter-attack and was capitalized swiftly by the striker. The Eagles then settled into the rhythm of the game and started pushing for an equalizer. They didn’t have to wait too long, as midfielder Cedric Ngounou won a penalty and converted it to even the tally only minutes later.
The game was intense and physical, with many outstanding performances on either side. At the half-time whistle, the game remained tied, but UTM had enjoyed the better share of opportunities to get ahead.
Driven by head coach Szabi, the Eagles took the field in the second half with a clear goal in mind: put this game away and manage the possession of the ball. They found a breakthrough with Kushall Mathew, who buried a strike at the near post after being set up perfectly from a crafty outside of the foot pass from Nart Machf.
UTM’s possession tactics only became more impactful as the game went on. They kept the ball and moved it well, attacking dangerous spaces without forcing risky plays or turnovers in possession. This paid off when striker Krish Chavan coldly slotted the ball in the bottom corner to score his fifth of the season after another well-weighted through ball by Machft put Chavan one-on-one with the keeper.
At the end of the game, Scarborough committed players forward in a last-ditch effort to level the score. Nevertheless, the Eagles defended well, and looked dangerous on the counter attacks thanks to the space now opened behind UTSC’s high defensive line.
The Eagles capitalized one final time to seal the win with Pietro Arrigoni who, after receiving a threatened pass from captain Erik Selvaggi, turned and ran at the backline, beat the defenders with pace, and put away a brace to make it 4-1.
The Eagles will take this good performance and hope to carry it into this week’s training ahead of the finals. They will travel to Varsity Stadium where they will take on UTSG Reds for the chance at the first men’s outdoor soccer win in program history.
“The team has a great opportunity this weekend to accomplish the goal we set out for ourselves before the season, but it won’t be possible unless we work hard and apply ourselves,” said Coach Kevin Iyamabo following his team’s performance. “St. George Red is a really strong opponent and the defending champions. They won’t want to give up their crown without a fight and we’ve got to be ready for it.”
“We’ve believed from the moment this team was created that this was a special group and this Sunday is our time to show it,” Iyamabo added.
The future of women’s soccer shines bright despite loss
In their semi-final matchup against the undefeated UTSG Red, the women’s team took to the field with positive energy in search of an underdog victory. In the early minutes of play,
the Eagles maintained possession in the middle, creating ample opportunities to push forward for the opening goal of the game. Unfortunately, despite creating chances up top and pressuring Red’s goalkeeper, the Eagles were unable to find the back of the net.
Nonetheless, the girls gave it their absolute all until the final whistle. Leading goal scorer for the Eagles, Jordan Pawlowski, continued to pressure the Red’s defense alongside strikers Jenna Schroder and Princess Saladino. On the defensive side, the Eagles saw an impressive performance from volunteer goalkeeper Manisha Biring, who made crucial saves against the Reds powerhouse shots.
In the second half, despite trailing 3-0, the Eagles were determined to even the scoreboard. An opportunity in the box for center midfielder Amelia Caron was almost the break the Eagles needed, but was turned away by the Reds goalkeeper with a beautiful diving save.
For the rest of the match, the Eagles dug deep in search of a goal but ultimately came up short. In the end, the Reds put up another strong battle, slotting five goals past the Eagles, and ending their chances at a third consecutive outdoor championship.
Looking forward, the women’s side aims to build upon their chemistry as they prepare for the indoor season. As a team that essentially started from scratch, with many players playing different positions and experimenting with new game strategies, the girls should be immensely proud of their improvement throughout the season. Although it wasn’t the result they wanted, the team demonstrated comradery, positivity, and high spirits to support one another week after week. With a solid group of graduating players and the motivation from new additions, the Eagles look to regroup and train hard in the offseason to take flight in the new year.
Photo credit: Keira Johannson