Students stepping out of residence into downtown housing worry for accommodations
By Victoria Andrade
Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) prioritizes housing for firstyear students according to the university, but as they move into their later years, many are struggling to find affordable accommodations near campus.
As competition for vacancies in the downtown housing market rise, students are left wondering where to begin when looking for a place to live.
First-year engineering student Camila Rabia voiced concerns with the downtown area’s expensive housing costs. “I wish there were more affordable places to live downtown, especially as students,” she said.
With average rent costs ranging from $1,500 to $3,000 a month, many second and first-year students have considered moving back home and commuting across Toronto to the university. Due to campus’ downtown location, 77 per cent of students take public transit daily, according to TMU.
Laura Jurkovic, a previous resident of Pitman Hall and second-year fashion student, is one of many who opted to face a long commute instead of paying comparatively higher rent.
“I’m commuting from Burlington [Ont.,] which is a whole process… going from living five minutes away to [now] commuting an hour and a half, I found it kind of tough,” said Jurkovic. “But the housing market right now is very expensive, especially for students. It’s very hard to find a good apartment near campus
for a cheap price.”
According to research conducted by TMU in 2022, 61 per cent of students reported that their commute was a barrier to their academic participation and 30 per cent of students believed that commuting is a barrier to their academic success.
However, despite the challenges with finding a new home, students feel torn with the choice of staying in the city with a big price tag and convenience or moving back home.
“I do want a bit more independence, I want my own place, my own kitchen, but I also still want that convenience of the school doing everything for me,” said Rabia.
Unlike Western University, the University of Toronto and several other universities who have guaranteed residence for incoming first-years, TMU does not provide that guarantee.
TMU offers residence to students based on their distance away from the university and the demand for housing that year, with no guarantee of a spot. This leaves many first-year students on a wait-list indefinitely.
TMU President Mohamed Lachemi said “TMU gives priority to incoming first-year students as well as students who are far from home to the university, and we know that the first year of students is a significant transition [to university life].”
Meanwhile, several first and second-year students expressed that the school’s few resources for off-campus housing have left them feeling unprepared to take on the housing market.
When asked how the school
can better support students, firstyear RTA media production student Riya Savundranayagam said, “I think just more information sessions…I don’t really know how to search for an apartment.”
Second-year professional communication student Sam Eze also recalled feeling similarly when he was searching for housing before the school year. “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t say I was prepared. Thankfully, I got in touch with a realtor who helped one of my friends. But even then, I wouldn’t say it was an easy process…I was so in the dark, I did not know what I was doing,” he said.
The lack of housing availability in the downtown core continues to have a direct impact on students’ mental health and their ability to participate in classroom activities.
A study conducted by psychology professor at the City University of New York, Angela Marinilli Pinto in December 2024 found that 58 per cent of 576 American commuter undergraduate students screened posi-
tive for depression, 37.8 per cent screened positive for generalized anxiety, just over half had poor sleep quality and less than a quarter met physical activity recommendations.
“I definitely feel like it has affected my ability to utilize the student equipment and the classes I do take…I don’t really want to take design based classes anymore because of how much work I’d have to put into commuting there and back,” said Jurkovic. Commuting plays a role in her scheduling and course selection, leaving her unable to get full use of the offered courses in her program. Looking ahead, Lachemi expressed optimism about expanding on-campus housing “In this transition, we are hoping that the coming few years will increase our capacity on the campus,” he said. “I think we will be able to do more for upper year students.”
As students embark on their home hunting journeys, many urge TMU to begin offering more opportunities for upper year students to live in TMU’s residence buildings.
TMU students react to provincial election results
By Lucas Bustinski
Following Ontario Premier Doug Ford’s re-election win on Feb. 27, Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) students have expressed mixed reactions with his nowthird term as premier.
Some students believe there is already a lack of support as postsecondary institutions are facing deficits and fear Ford will not take
the necessary steps to address these issues, leading to further cuts.
Peter Ikenye, a second-year film student, said he is “quite disappointed” in the election results and does not feel supported as a commuter student. Ikenye travels to Toronto from Oshawa, Ont., almost daily for both work and school and he believes the Ford government only considers working professionals over the age of
25 and not the province’s youth.
“I just see a bunch of people that are very happy with the status quo and aren’t willing to change anything,” said Ikenye.
Ikenye believes these larger developments, such as contracts with Metrolinx, Ontario Place and the Science Centre, will primarily benefit investors and feels “everyone else is being ignored.”
Ikenye expressed that “You see that there’s very little effort to deal with the sort of crisis we have with housing, the infrastructure in the city is crumbling, the transit is terrible.”
He said the only direct support he has seen from the Ford government is the $200 rebate and the premier’s fight for Canadian sovereignty amid current tariff tensions with the United States (U.S.).
Iain Wilson, a PhD graduate and manager at Higher Education Strat-
egy Associates, said these deficits are growing because the Ontario government already spends less per fulltime equivalent student compared to other provinces.
His firm, an analytic advisement organization, consults governments and post-secondary institutions on improving higher education systems globally.
He also cited that they have not kept up funding with inflation and the recent federal cap on international students.
Juhi Bhatt, a fourth-year nursing student, called Ford’s re-election a “double-edged sword.” During her first year, she worked as a nursing extern—a job similar to a personal support worker—but had her pay capped under Ford’s 2019 Bill 124, the Protecting a Sustainable Public Sector for Future Generations Act, 2019.
Read more at theeyeopener.com
AVA WHELPLEY/THE EYEOPENER
SAIF-ULLAH KHAN/THE EYEOPENER, PHOTO VIA JOEY COLEMAN/PEXELS
Daylight savings impacts student schedules during Ramadan
With Ramadan timings dependant on the rising and setting of the sun, daylight savings will have an effect
By Daniyah Yaqoob
The month of Ramadan in the Islamic calendar has coincided with Daylight Saving Time this year, impacting Muslim students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) and their fasting times.
Fasting is an integral part of celebrating Ramadan, a holy month for Muslims following the lunar calendar, as one of the five pillars of Islamic belief. During this month, Muslims begin their fast about an hour before sunrise—allowed to eat and drink fluids until this point but not after. This is called the suhoor or sehri meal. Following the calendar, at sunset each day when the sun dips below the horizon, Muslims break their fast in a practice known as iftar
In between these times, Muslims are told to observe their daily prayers and recite from their holy book, the Quran, to reconnect with their faith in a busy world.
As daylight savings sprung some clocks around the world an hour forward, suhoor timings
advanced to 6:30 a.m. and iftar to 7:20 p.m. in Eastern Standard Time, on average.
In Toronto, before daylight savings went into effect, Muslims generally began their fast around 5:30 a.m. and broke it around 6:15 p.m., following the rising and setting of the sun.
For Yusra Hasan, a second-year business management student, Ramadan is a means of self-improvement and connecting with God— one that she would never think to give up.
“It helps me so much every year, it teaches you discipline,” she said. “When I’m fasting, I am clearly a better person.”
Nudrat Mahmood, a secondyear history student, added that, “It’s a chance for me to get rid of the bad habits I’ve developed over the semester, like prioritizing school over praying.”
For Mahmood, between her class ending at 4 p.m. and the oneand-a-half hour commute home, it was always a race to be back in time to break her fast. In the first week of Ramadan, she nearly
missed a train home, which would have left her stranded downtown for iftar
“I got home like 15 minutes before iftar… I think if [the train] was slightly more late or took slightly longer, if there was more traffic, I could have potentially missed [iftar],” said Mahmood.
Hasan’s schedule gave her a chance to begin her fast with her family at home and pray in between, before she had to get on a 6:30 a.m. train to campus. On most days, she breaks her fast on campus, not having enough time to get home.
Mahmood said daylight savings would be “helpful” to her schedule, giving her more time to get home from campus before the sun sets. She said the later suhoor also means her day will begin right away, eliminating the “weird nap” she would take between praying and catching the morning train.
For Hasan, things will only get more hectic. With 6:15 a.m. suhoors, she won’t have enough time to eat at home, pray and then make it to the station. Now, she is
deciding whether to eat and pray on the train or to arrive on campus before dawn so she can start her fast from campus.
“[Daylight savings] hitting us in the middle of [Ramadan] is, I would say, annoying and inconvenient,” she said, after becoming used to her previous schedule. Hasan said the only potential benefit for her would be that she might have more time in the evenings to get home for iftar
She said the university could do more, like providing iftar to students on a larger scale or creating more easily accessible prayer spaces, to make this month easier on Muslim students rushing to make it to meals and prayers on time.
“It is not a hard month,” Hasan said about balancing her fast with school and work. “It is just the factors around our lives that make it hard.”
NAGEEN RIAZ/THE EYEOPENER
TO be is the greatest act of courage
By Khushy Vashisht
Content warning: This editorial mentions acts of violence and hate crimes that may be distressing to readers.
For as much as I talk, it’s always been hard to talk about myself. Lines like “tell me about yourself” or being asked to share a fun fact about myself leaves me with immediate dread and my mind scrambling for a unique—but not too niche—thing to say.
For my entire life, I’ve always been hyperaware of how I act and come across to people. Depending on who I’m with and where I am, I’m automatically able to tap in and out of certain parts of myself, catering to my audience like it’s second nature.
Around my family, I’m studious. Around my friends from elementary school, I’m a homebody and around other friends, I’m the spontaneous life of the party. There are sides of me reserved for certain people, and when there’s no longer an audience, I don’t know which part of myself to surface.
It’s safe to say I might be going through a bit of an identity crisis.
When I look at those who are able to just be—unwilling to bend to anyone’s rule—I feel a simultaneous tinge of envy and pride. I know the journey to be isn’t linear (and it definitely isn’t easy) but it’s so desperately needed—now more than ever.
I was 12 years old when gay marriage was legalized in the United States (U.S.). I was 13 years old when the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls began and Indigenous communities in Canada were promised an end to the systemic violence they face, or at the very least, closure. In 2018, I saw how tragedy brought people together in the areas where I’m from. The van attack on Toronto’s Yonge Street—which killed 10 people and injured 16—occurred in April that year. The perpetrator was an incel—an involuntarily celibate man who intended to run over and kill as many women as he could. Just a few months later in July, a shooter killed two young girls and injured
13 people on the Danforth before turning the gun on himself.
These senseless deaths brought dozens upon dozens of community members together to mourn those lost and exchange prayers and sentiments of love in difficult times.
Then, suddenly, something changed. I didn’t see the same community we once had anymore.
In 2021, in London, Ont., a white man named Nathaniel Veltman ran over the Afzaal family, killing a mother, father, their 15-year-old daughter and grandmother. The attack left the then nine-year-old of the family an orphan and in an instant, reduced a family of five to just one.
I remember watching the coverage of the attack unfold on the news and the absolute wreck I became every time the family’s photo was shown on the TV—it’s still unsettling to think of now. I remember thinking about how easily that could have been my family, my best friend’s family, any Brown family that simply existed. The Afzaal family committed the crime of going out on a summer evening walk, just like any family.
But they weren’t just any family—they were Brown and Muslim, and visibly so. To the perpetrator, that was enough justification for the horrific domestic terrorist attack.
Over the last few years, I have been witness to the quick and drastic regression of our society.
Year after year, hate crimes continue to grow in the province. In Toronto alone, hate crimes have increased by 55 per cent in 2024 compared to the previous year as reported by CBC News.
Canada is in a crisis—especially if we follow the uber-polarized path of our southern neighbour.
Today, we see far-right voices increasingly break through mainstream politics. Red pill podcast bros are inflaming toxic masculinity in young men, anti-immigrant sentiments are becoming much more prevalent in Canada—especially directed at international students—and large corporations are dialing back their diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives to comply with U.S. President Donald Trump’s actions.
Anti-trans violence and bigotry are reaching new heights. No one seems to care that over 60,000 Palestinians have been brutally killed due to Israel’s siege on Gaza over the last two years alone nor that thousands upon thousands more have been wounded and displaced from their homeland. The world feels like it’s on fire—because it quite literally is.
I no longer feel part of the generation that was meant to do better, be better.
I came up with the premise of The Unapologetic Issue in December 2024. My idea was to curate a collection of stories that encompassed various communities held together by the singular thread of individuality—a concept currently under attack worldwide. Now, three months later, the concept only seems to be looking even more bleak and hopeless, which is exactly why the need for an issue like this is even more pressing.
We live in a time where simply existing is an act of resistance, where just being is enough to make a statement and stand in solidarity.
This issue highlights stories of courageous and vibrant people who are completely unapologetic about who they are and where they come from. It celebrates those who aren’t afraid to embrace every single part of themselves from the good to the bad, ugly and powerful.
Human beings are not meant to be the same or cohesive. Our differences are what make us powerful and our individualities must never be considered a weakness. And so, without further ado, I present to you all,
The Unapologetic Issue
With all my love and no apologies for it whatsoever,
Managing Editor
Khushy Vashisht
Editor-in-Chief
Joshua Chang
Visuals
Saif-Ullah Khan
Khadijah Ghauri
Nageen Riaz
I first noticed the striking divide between members of the public during the COVID-19 pandemic when there was great animosity towards the most basic healthcare practices—quarantining when infected, wearing a mask in public or getting vaccinated. I never knew something as simple as a cloth covering one’s face could hold so much importance and anger over people’s lives.
I hope these stories can speak to the importance of self-expression in a world gunning to get rid of it and that it gives you, the reader, a moment of solace and hope.
Small Identity Staples: How TMU Students Carry Themselves on Campus
By Zoha Naghar
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan
For students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU), identity has many dimensions and can extend far beyond just appearance or culture. It can encompass fandoms, hobbies or personal/religious rituals usually carried in the form of an object.
Beyond the obvious markers like fashion and language, small items like tattoos, charms, keychains and stickers offer a peek into who someone is. For some, these items can act as an anchor amidst the fast paced environment of student life, offering moments of comfort, reflection and peace.
Hamna Ayaz, a third-year interior design student, carries a mini portable prayer mat with her everywhere she goes. For Ayaz, the prayer mat is more than just a regular item—it’s a symbol of faith and tranquility.
“It’s not just a piece of fabric,” she said. “It’s my source of strength. It’s something I can carry with me, no matter where I am on campus, to take a moment to pause, reset and reconnect with my faith.”
While Ayaz sometimes struggles
to find time or space to pray in the busy halls of TMU, her prayer mat ensures that she can always create a sacred space, whether it’s in an empty classroom or a quiet corner of the library.
Similarly, fourth-year interior design student Areesha Asif, carries a simple journal that has become an integral part of her daily routine. The journal’s cover features a painting by French artist Claude Monet, whose work speaks deeply to Asif.
“The way Monet’s paintings make me feel—calm, peaceful and like I’m in a dream. It resonates with me,” she said. “This journal has become a re flection of who I am. It holds my thoughts, my sketches and even spiritual reminders. It’s like a snapshot of my life at any given moment.”
For Asif, journ aling is a tool for both organiza and self-expres sion. She writes
everything from lecture notes to personal reflections, often sketching architectural details or recording quotes that help her navigate tougher days.
“It’s a way for me to track my growth and find comfort during tough times,” she reflected. “I’ll flip back to a page and see a quote I wrote when I was going through something hard, and it reminds me that I made it through before, so I can do it again.”
Third-year business technology management student Saif Rehman, carries a gaming points card in the laminated part of his wallet. This object—with a slight
The card was a gift from his childhood best friend, who grew up with him in Alberta. Although separated by thousands of kilometres—as Rehman moved to Toronto and his friend to Dubai—the card serves as a reminder of their everlasting friendship.
“This card symbolizes my connection to her and to home,” Rehman explained. “Whenever I feel stressed or down, I open my wallet and see it, and it just reminds me of someone who makes my heart feel warm.”
“It’s a reminder of where I came from,” he added.
These small, personal items— whether a prayer mat, a journal or a gaming card—act as extensions of oneself, offering comfort, connection and identity in a world that can of - ten feel overwhelming where people overlook the little things in life. According to an analysis by psychotherapist and founder of Courage2Be Counselling Janine Hodge, there is a strong importance behind individuality.
“What we say or don’t say, how we dress, how we style our hair, how we behave and the things we choose to carry are all part of our unique self-expression,” Hodge stated.
“These choices provide vital information about our character and interests, and also signal to others who we are.”
Self-expression, as Hodge suggests, is crucial for one’s sense of belonging. Humans have an inherent need to belong and expressing our true selves can help foster connections with others as well as our own selves.
Authentic self-expression through the things we choose to keep close can promote confidence, build relationships and provide stability in our day to day.
In a diverse city like Toronto, identities are not just shaped by one’s physical surroundings or cultural backgrounds, but also by the not-so-little things we choose to carry with us every day.
“I’ve grown really attached to it now to the point where I need to bring [my journal] with me everywhere. It’s also helped me understand myself better,” said Asif.
Student by Day, Influencer…Also by Day
A peek into how content creators developed alongside their social media platform
By Rogene Teodoro
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan and Khadijah Ghauri
While social media can be used as a place to unwind, communicate and even learn, it’s also a place many criticize for being ingenuine for public viewing. However, some students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) challenge this stereotype by creating content that expresses their most authentic selves.
For some, like fourth-year law and business student Kaitlyn Huynh, it’s a place to share personal experiences.
Kaitlyn along with her twin sister, Kristin, create lifestyle content and food reviews on both TikTok and Instagram. Prior to their debut in their second-year, Huynh didn’t think much of social media and thought it was a joke. Her journey began during the quarantine period of the COVID-19 pandemic as a way to combat boredom in isolation.
“It was 100 per cent self-taught and it was super random…I was just super bored and I decided, why not record how much or what I do during reading week,” said Huynh.
“I guess from there I started getting views and kept continuing to record my everyday life at school.”
In her early creator days, Huynh’s posts were inspired by a combination of her life as a student and content made by other creators. She recalled one of her first series being focused on how she spent her reading week studying. As time passed, the focus of her posts transitioned into trying trends and giving general food recommendations in the Greater Toronto Area.
“I think it was honestly just something to do for fun.” she said. “My goal is to post whatever and have fun with it…I’m just trying to show the world what I do and whether I influence [an audience] or not, I don’t really care.”
Today, Huynh and her sister have over 28,400 followers on TikTok.
Jenna Jacobson, an associate professor at the Ted Rogers School of Management, describes social media as a platform for users to share their personal experiences.
According to Jacobson, similar to general users, online creators aim to “share the mundane” of everyday life. However, they do so with additional stresses, including
understanding how to profit off of their posts and figuring out what resonates with their audiences.
TMU nursing graduate Vivian Lau is a YouTube vlogger who also shares her passion for dance, beauty and fashion on her Instagram page.
She values community, believing that someone’s five closest people influence their character. She applies these beliefs onto social media by consuming positive, self-help and inspirational content—motivating her to create similar forms of media.
When she began her journey, Lau felt a bit like a “lone wolf.”
Though as she developed her profile, she found satisfaction in interacting with and guiding others.
In addition to learning how to manage her platform through trial and error, Lau faced some emotional challenges.
“I struggled a lot with fear of judgment. But I realized when I would get judgment, it’s from people that don’t necessarily deserve my energy, and so I was putting myself in positions recently …where I feel uplifted and empowered as a young, female, Korean content [creator],” she said.
“I’ve actually faced a lot of criticism and hate comments and I’ve detached myself from it because I realize the true people that matter in my life won’t care,” Lau added.
Social media has an influence on how users choose to represent themselves. While it’s easy to believe that online identities curated by social media consumers are different from their offline ones, Jacobson suggested they’re not so different in terms of how they function.
“We’re always curating a specific persona that we would like to portray,” said Jacobson. “We’re always involved in a constant process of identity, creation, curation and management.”
To be a content creator is a journey of discovery and self development. It’s also an opportunity for users to build communities with individuals that have shared passions, as well as a place to experiment with ideas.
While some factors— such as trends—can encourage a form of devel-
opment, it doesn’t necessarily mean a user needs to conform to social media standards.
“It’s putting your own creativity into a piece that you’re inspired by,” said Lau.“Everyone gets inspiration from different content, but it’s up to you to make it your own.”
The Eyeopener’s Unapologetic Playlist
By The Eyeopener Masthead
Music is a significant and integral part of one’s identity, transcending time and language. Whether as a soundtrack for moments of celebration or a source of self-reflection or grief, songs can help process emotions and bring people together while helping one stay true to who they are.
The Eyeopener’s masthead is made up of nearly two dozen editors who come from a variety of backgrounds and lived experiences—but the one thing they can all agree on is the importance of music and authenticity. Here are some songs masthead members say describe them in a nutshell and help them be unapologetically themselves.
“A-frame” by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler - Joshua Chang, Editor-in-Chief
This song is one of my favourites from brent iii, the third segment in a collaborative album series by two of my go-to artists. The brent series touches on various themes of relationship nuances, vulnerability and internal experiences when navigating life. “A-frame” is a wistful window into brent iii and resonates with how I express my own peace. For me, the song is an ode to the beauty of simplicity found in love and life. Not only has it brought me a lot of nostalgic comfort in difficult moments, it’s freeing to embrace remembering how home feels.
“Chamber of Reflection” by Mac DeMarco - Anthony Lippa-Hardy, Business and Technology Editor
I stumbled across this song on my way home from the skatepark at the age of 17—around the time I discovered my love for storytelling. Although it’s calming and slow-paced, it can be played in a variety of settings. Whether I’m taking the streetcar to school or editing films for work, I never seem to get tired of it. As an unapologetic representation of my creative self, Canadian singer-songwriter Mac DeMarco truly did a fantastic job of capturing not only who I am but who I aspire to be as I navigate life.
“Suéltame, Bogotá” by Diamante Eléctrico - Daniel Carrero, Sports Editor
The song’s title translates from Spanish to “Let me go, Bogota” in English. This song came out around the same time I experienced the biggest change in my life—moving to Canada from my hometown of Bogota, Colombia. Juan Galeano, the band’s singer, viewed Bogota as a place that only caused him harm.
In some way, I relate to that. Back home I was lazy, didn’t do well in school and struggled in every single aspect of life. I needed change. But that change came with the cost of leaving everything I knew in order to transform into a new person. Canada made me a new person—a better person. As much as I loved my city, I needed Bogota to let me go.
“Damage Gets Done” by Hozier and Brandi Carlile - Daniel Opasinis, News Editor
Hearing this song live in concert was such a special moment. There’s something about youthfulness that speaks to me. I think mistakes are objective, and where we should be in life differs for each person. At the end of the day, I want to make mistakes and learn how to get myself out of them. After all, being young is about trying new things and figuring out who you are as a person.
“Dancing Queen” by ABBA - Khushy Vashisht, Communities Editor
No matter where I am or what I’m doing, if I hear the iconic sliding of piano keys, I’m stopping in my tracks and ready to sing my heart out. Not only is “Dancing Queen” my go-to karaoke song, it’s one that I have nothing but joy and good memories associated with—from scream-singing (mainly screaming) in a car with my chosen family to putting on a one-woman performance for an audience of approximately zero people while cooking. I would like to personally thank the nation of Sweden for this unapologetic masterpiece.
Read more at theeyeopener.com
Embracing culture in the face of discrimination
Underneath Canada’s colourful cultural mosaic lies the silent expectation to blend in; TMU students rise to reject assimilation
By Shumaila Mubarak Visuals by Khadijah Ghauri
Although Canada prides itself on being a cultural mosaic rather than a homogenous melting pot, some students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) find there is an unspoken expectation to blend in and adapt to societal norms to be accepted by the majority.
Some students say that many immigrants and racialized people in Canada feel that expressing their culture or faith can lead to receiving conspicuous stares or even outright hostility, leading some to conceal their identity for the sake of fitting in.
But for many, this unintentional surrender to criticism and conformity is not their chosen path. Racialized students at TMU are choosing to push back and unapologetically celebrate their cultures through outward expressions.
Sarah Ahmed, a fifth-year philosophy student, still remembers the time she felt unable and unwanted to join a high school media class because she wore the hijab.
“I wanted to join this media course and this teacher was like ‘Oh no sorry, I think because of your hijab, it might be difficult,’” she said. “It set me back so much…I was very young. I was innocent.”
Ahmed is originally from Germany, where she has faced more upfront racism due to the country’s strict laws and bans of Islamic facecoverings, including the burqa and niqab. When she moved to Canada in 2017, a country known for valuing multiculturalism, she did not expect this kind of treatment.
“I feel like discrimination or racism here is expressed differently. Systematically, first of all, but then also kind of not directly in your face, but behind your back,” Ahmed said.
Zujaja Ahmad, a second-year public health student at TMU has faced some of this discrimination. In her experience, out ward expressions such as wearing the hijab means others automatically place her in a box, mak ing assumptions about who she is and what she stands for.
Despite these regular encoun
ters with silent pressures and judgment, she has leaned even further into her values and identity—the key to this being confidence.
“If you don’t have that confidence, it’s very easy for you to be pushed back,” she said. “Believing in yourself is a must here.”
“That sense of belonging makes you feel as though you’re in a safer space”
While condemnation of celebrating one’s culture and religion can appear differently—ranging from subtle aggressions to overt pushback—its emotional and sociological impact is undeniable, ranging from feelings of isolation to even alienation.
Shirin Khayambashi is an assistant professor of sociology at TMU whose research focuses on Canada’s multiculturalism and the immigrant experience when settling in the country. She described the correlation between lower self-esteem and discriminatory behaviour from society.
“When you’re experiencing any form of discrimination, segregation, any form of rejection of who you are, when your identity goes under question, you lose your sense of belonging,” explained Khayambashi. “That sense of belonging makes you feel as though you’re in a safer space.”
To her, a prominent way people respond to discrimination is through self-regulation—the constant need to change or “control” oneself in order to fit in.
In Khayambashi’s experience, people often opt for self-policing and
ing to have a negative effect on the individual’s self-perception because if you’re self-policing, that means there is something wrong with you,” she said.
While self-policing can be a reality for many, some boldly resist assimilation as a way to stay true to who they are.
For Jana Alnajjar, a fourth-year Palestinian student studying nutrition and food at TMU, unapologetically celebrating her Palestinian culture means embracing the traditions her parents taught her.
“[As a Palestinian] in a foreign country that I’m not from, the only [things] I can hold on to are the values and the richness of my culture,” she said.
As the president and founder of the Palestinian Cultural Club at TMU, part of Alnajjar’s methods for combating conformity involves teaching others about her roots.
From Palestinian embroidery to traditional dances, she said teaching people about her identity helps to lead others toward acceptance of culture and keeps her in touch with her background.
“[Education and awareness has] opened doors for so many conversations with people that have opposing ideas or they don’t know too much about the Palestinian culture…I’ve actually seen so much love and support,” said Alnajjar.
While assimilation can be a challenge living in the West, Alnajjar believes that finding a balance between worlds and making sense of what your roots mean to you can be a gateway to completely embracing your culture.
Loyalty to one’s identity and beliefs can feel like it comes with a hefty price for some. But the art of true belonging is not about erasing differences—instead, it’s about embracing and being unapologetic about them, as exemplified by Ahmad.
“Realize that you’re not the problem,” said Ahmad. “[People are] going to perceive you as how you perceive yourself…If you believe in yourself in a way that
‘I have my values, I have my preferences,’ and you uphold those values, I think nobody can shatter that.”
FAITH AND FABRIC: PERSONAL JOURNEYS TO THE HIJAB
By Lama Alshami
For many Muslim women at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU), visibly wearing their faith in a Western country is not always safe. However, this has not stopped them from proudly putting on their hijabs every day.
Inaya Khan, a second-year business management student, started wearing the hijab at the age of 15. Up until grade 12, she lived in the United Arab Emirates, a Muslimmajority country, where many women wore the hijab.
“But when I came here [to Canada], I became a physical representation of a Muslim,” she said.
Upon her arrival to Canada, Khan noticed a big change in her personality and completely altered the way she dressed and the way she wore the hijab.
In the Middle East, Khan ex plained that people often respect women who veil. However, in the West, it was difficult for her to wear abayas—a loose-fitting floor-length outer garment typically worn by Muslim or Arab women—or longer dresses and skirts as she wanted to fit into ‘Cana dian’ norms. “I wanted to wear jeans—the cool baggy jeans,” she said. Slowly, as she got more comfortable with herself, she began wearing looser clothes. Even though she’s now confident in her identity, the environment in Canada isn’t always welcoming.
school who saw me and didn’t recognize me at first, and then when he recognized me, he had just a pure face of shock,” Hussain remembered.
As for Khan, when she first started her journey with the hijab, she said even her friends didn’t look at her the same way.
“They treated me like I did a whole [180] and I’m this new person who can’t smile, who can’t laugh, who doesn’t know how to make jokes, as if I wasn’t the same person I was yesterday,” she expressed.
Khalidah Ali, a sessional instructor at the University of Toronto Mississauga with a PhD in the study
Sometimes, Khan wears the niqab—a veil that leaves only the eyes visible—in Toronto and she can recall instances of people blatantly staring at her.
Once at Union Station, a woman approached her and told her to “take that off.”
Ali explained, “The woman becomes a symbolic proxy for civili zational discourses of conquer and rescue and backwardness and pro gressiveness. So, when a Muslim woman takes on the veil and hijab she cannot just be an individual on her own.”
She continued, saying that Mus lim women in the West face every day racism, xenophobia, discrimi nation in the media and politicians who use them for their own po litical posturing.
of religion explained that there’s a historical fear of Muslim women and “stereotyping based on markers of clothing goes back centuries.”
“I feel scared to wear the hijab when I go to [university] because of the area that we’re in…I don’t know when I could be a victim because of my hijab,” said Khan.
“We’re a clear target,” she added.
Yumna Hussain, a fourth-year social work student, shares the same sentiments.
“When you’re visibly [Muslim], it’s an easier punch,” explained Hussain, referring to feeling more like a target.
While she “periodically and randomly” wore the hijab throughout her childhood, Hussain only began wearing it full-time in high school. She immediately noticed that people would treat her differently, especially those who knew her before she began wearing the hijab.
“There was a boy from middle
“In a place like Canada or the United States that have been Europeanized through ethnic cleansing, they’ve created a EuroCanadian or Euro-American society that has particular markers of what is the norm,” she shared.
Islamophobia is a major and current problem in Canada. A recent report by the House of Commons Standing Committee on Justice and Human Rights in December 2024 outlined that Islamophobia and hate crimes towards Muslims are on the rise. The committee wrote, “Women wearing the hijab are being harassed, assaulted, and spat on in public.”
“I
Ali mentioned this is not a new issue, explaining that, amid the colonial period in 19th century Egypt, “Lord Cromer and other colonial agents talked about the veil as oppressive. That they need to rescue Muslim women from the oppression of the veil.”
en should have to justify their choices constantly.”
Hussain said the assumptions that come with wearing the hijab are the worst. “People look at me and think that, because I’m wearing a scarf over my head, they can assume things about me without even knowing me.”
Visuals by Nageen Riaz
“So, [my parents] were also like, ‘Is this gonna be another 9-11? How is my daughter gonna do this?’ And to this day, that’s still a threat in their mind,” said Hussain.
There are also moments of comparison amongst those who don’t wear the hijab, “But those are the moments where you have to realize this is the point of the hijab. This is the point of the veil. It’s not to beautify yourself. It’s to actually hide your beauty,” said Khan. Khan described the hijab as her identity. “If I don’t have my hijab, [I’m] not me,” she said.
Khan believes it’s important for her to be aware of these perceptions to break the narrative.
“I carry the weight of representing my religion in a proper manner on my shoulders. And I love that,” she expressed.
“There are definitely people who go through hijab being forced upon them…[but] I can safely say my hijab does not oppress me,” Khan added.
Ali explained that wearing the hijab primarily depends on personal circumstances.
“I am always my own person, always defying the rules and everyone in this room can attest to that,” Hussain motioned to her two friends sitting beside her, “So, I’m not going to let someone stop me from doing what’s best for me.”
This journey to self-acceptance wasn’t a fast one for Khan or Hussain as both of them are the only women in their immediate family who wear the hijab for religious reasons rather than only for cultural ones.
“It was obviously a big step for me and something that I really had to consider because it would definitely make me look like the black sheep when I’m out with my family,” said Khan.
carry the weight of representing my religion in a proper manner on my shoulders. And I love that”
Some Muslim women grow up in families where, after reaching a certain age, it is common to wear the hijab. For others, it’s something they do to express their faith. But Ali said, “I don’t think that Muslim wom -
Hussain’s parents were worried as she put the hijab on during a time of increased tension towards the Muslim community. The Paris attacks in November 2015 and the Quebec mosque shooting in January 2017 were both recent events around the same time that Hussain began wearing it.
Hussain has also been called a terrorist before, simply for being Muslim.
“I feel very strongly that the hijab is more than just a headscarf. It’s a concept of Islam,” said Hussain. Hussain believes that aside from being part of who she is, the headscarf also acts as a protective barrier to the cultural norms that don’t align with Islam.
“It is a bridge to let [people] know, ‘Hey, sorry, I’m just not going to shake your hand for religious reasons, or I’m not going to do this for religious reasons,” she said.
Ali shared that democratizing public space is one of the ways in which Muslim women can challenge Islamophobia and push back against stereotypes regarding the hijab.
“A lot of Muslim women are in non-traditional fields now [and] being unapologetically themselves in those spaces. I think that pioneering work has created more and more spaces for people coming up afterwards,” she said, referring to media representation.
Both Khan and Hussain agree that the best part of wearing the hijab is the way it brings Muslim women together.
“Wearing the hijab, across the room, I see another hijab, and that’s an instant community built right there,” said Hussain
Similarly, when Khan is around another hijabi, there’s a feeling of relief. “We have this mutual agreement. We look at each other, we acknowledge each other and we know we’re there,” she said.
Above all, the hijab provides a sense of comfort.
“It just makes me feel more at peace because I know that I’m pleasing Allah,” said Khan.
Dismantling beauty standards we never asked for
As beauty standards evolve, TMU students have found ways to defy them
By Lillie Coussée
Disclaimer: This article mentions harmful eating behaviours and dissatisfaction with body image.
A rush of realization hit Zachat Ochalefu in August 2023. The third-year fashion student from Nigeria was at a modelling casting in Toronto, standing in front of the casting directors and waiting for feedback. She grew up modelling and always had “decent experiences” within the industry.
“The ideal body type that is glorified is an hourglass figure,” she says, referring to her home country, Nigeria. She felt accepted there and was optimistic this approval would follow her across the ocean.
However, that summer day in the city, the international student from Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) was hit by a harsh reality.
“[The casting directors] were like ‘Oh, you’re so adorable, you’re so nice but we’re really looking for slimmer models,’” she remembers.
Ochalefu was left stunned. Hav ing never experienced anything like that before, she didn’t know what to do. She simply thanked the casting director and went on her way out.
“I wear an extra small…but that’s OK,” she says as she recounts the thoughts going through her head that day. After digesting the shock from that moment, she went home and was flooded with negativ ity. However, these weren’t selfdeprecating thoughts, but rather reflected an overall sadness of how the industry is still operating.
“There’s such a tiny box they want to put everyone in,” she says. “Well, [they’re] missing out.”
Beauty standards are not a new concept. They’ve been around for centuries and have evolved alongside growing societies. Shari Graydon, the catalyst of non-par tisan, charitable feminist organi zation Informed Opinions and au thor of In Your Face: The Culture of Beauty and You, says beauty standards are society’s collective understanding of what constitutes beauty. While these criteria alter between societies and communi ties, she says the beauty standard today is “literally unattainable.”
“Even if I had plastic sur gery and took diet pills or whatever, I’m never go ing to look like the peo
ple who are considered by People Magazine the most beautiful in the world,” she says. “Most people don’t have that opportunity.”
These standards may seem to change more frequently with the rise of social media but Graydon explains that as the definition of beauty continues to shift and evolve, the way people are informed about these ideals does as well. With more people than ever posting and reposting images that reinforce current standards on various social media outlets, it makes it easier for companies to make money off of people’s insecurities.
“I think as long as companies have the opportunity to profit off of our dissatisfaction, there is always going to be a commercial push too,” she says.
towards lighter skin or skin with no blemishes or a very slim nose,” she says. “Even in Nigeria, it’s the same thing as well.”
Ochalefu rolls her eyes as she says this but her smile never wavers. Her confidence radiates throughout the second floor of TMU’s Rogers Communication Centre. On a cold February day, she’s bundled in a warm scarf, covering her buzzed hair.
“I did the big chop,” she says as she pulls her scarf back to uncover her short hair. Hair was always a point of creativity for her. Her mom is very stylish and always encouraged Ochalefu to try different hairstyles. She was never afraid to have vibrant coloured hair or change it up—so it was no surprise to friends or family when she cut her hair.
“[I] express [myself] through [my] hair. I find that that’s very important to me,” she says.
The methods of achieving this “unattainable standard” have changed as well. According to the American Academy of Facial Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, Gen Z is booking cosmetic procedures at higher rates than before and 75 per cent of plas tic surgeons in the United States saw a spike in pa tients under the age of 30. A study by The Nation al Library of Medicine found that social media usage can lead to body image concerns, eating disorders and poor mental health.
Visuals by Nageen Riaz
cerning. Although not the direct cause of her cyst, her diet played a significant role in how strong her body was and the amount of pain she was in.
“As long as companies have the opportunity to profit off of our dissatisfaction, there is always going to be a commercial push too”
Ochalefu says social media was the “biggest battle” she had to face when dealing with body image and
“I was trying to lose weight so I would have a slimmer waist, or just look skinny… after I got diagnosed with the cyst, I was like, ‘Okay, I need to stop,’” she says. “I just snapped back into reality.” She deleted social media for 40 days. During this time, she booked out studio spaces in the Recreation & Athletic Centre at TMU and spent most of her time dancing freely while learning to embrace herself.
“I think that was one of the happiest times of just being away from social media,” she says.
With the U.S. rollback of transgender and Diversity, Equity and Inclusion protection, along with Meta’s rollback of hate speech rules, Aisha Sharma, a first-year biology student and transgender woman, recognizes that social media “isn’t a great place to be trans.”
However, she says there are aspects of social media that can help create a sense of community. Many of her favourite influencers are trans women who use their subscription-based following to pay for gender-affirming care, something Sharma has often thought
“Sometimes, because of social media, it feels like that’s the only path I know where I can reasonably hope to afford all the surgeries I do
Cody* is a researcher at FEDUP—a U.S.-based collection of trans and intersex people who provide support for eating disorders—and founder of Safety Connected, The Eating Disorder Centre, a Canadian-based centre that upholds intersectional spaces and operations dedicated to eating disorder care.
He says social media, although not perfect, is a great place for people from different parts of the world to gain valuable information.
“It is a really powerful platform by which we can find information, we can find community, we can find resources and regardless of if someone is in a rural community or a city, they still get access to that content,” he says.
Cody says many intersectional people feel they don’t fit the typical beauty standard, which can make them feel like an “other.” He says it is not common for society to unpack the origin of beauty standards and how, across the globe, they’re often rooted in “white, cis, non-disabled bodies that are thin.”
“Being outside of those identities is already going to create a stressor to conform to them,” Cody adds.
Sharma began identifying as non-binary in 2018, a few years before identifying as a transgender woman. She felt less pressure to conform to a standard during this time. However, this changed when she started identifying as a woman in 2023.
“I felt this pressure to be this idea of feminine that people around me knew,” she says. “Ever since com ing out as a trans woman, I feel like the pressure of beauty stan dards is so much higher.”
Although the external expecta tions to achieve these standards are high, Sharma says there is a sense of comfort in conforming to these standards and present ing as someone who is “passing” as a woman.
“Sometimes I honestly ask my self what things, even transitionrelated things, am I doing for my self versus for society or fear of society,” she says.
Beauty standards vary through out different communities and societies, however, many are rooted in Eurocentric or Amer ican ideals, Graydon says.
“The explosion and the col onization of American cul ture around the world has shifted standards of beauty in other countries—so that white is prized in a way that it should not be,” she adds.
As a South Asian woman, Sharma’s cultural identity also plays a role in her ac ceptance of herself. Grow ing up, she hated her nose and begged her parents to let her get plastic surgery.
“[I have] a very South Asian nose, that was some thing I didn’t like and I was very obsessive over it,” she explains.
In the last couple of years, Sharma says societal progression and her community of friends have tried to stray away from exclusionary ideals. This helped her rediscover her identity and reconnect with her culture.
This past February, she went for a facial feminization surgery consultation, a procedure some trans women undergo that includes jaw angle, nose, forehead and chin feminization, along with Adam’s apple reduction and more. To her surprise, the doctor didn’t recommend or even address anything about changing her nose.
“I know it’s not a horribly mas-
culine nose, but would it be too big?” she asked the doctor. After her doctor reassured her it wasn’t, she felt great.
“A lot of surgeons would tell you, ‘yeah,’ and give you a more Eurocentric nose, so they were aware of how beauty standards might affect South Asian people,” she says. “It was interesting because this is something I’d wanted…and now that I maybe have the chance to do what I’ve always
platonic relationships or romantic relationships or sexual relationships, they are much more sustainable when they’re connected with the self, not connected with what society has taught us to be and taught us to conform to,” he explains.
Sharma’s reconnection with her roots didn’t happen overnight. She says one of the most important parts of this journey is the community of people she surrounds herself with along with society’s gradual progress. Confidence comes and goes but her circle is always there to reassure her—a comfort she believes is necessary in social media spaces.
“That idea of a community where people just get you and there’s not this pressure to be a certain way, or be trans a certain way, or to pass a certain way, I think is re ally healing,” Shar ma expresses.
ways felt like the standard of beauty was out of her reach.
She noticed the types of people who got the most likes on social media and were considered pretty and popular in school. None of them looked like her.
“I kind of came to a conclusion that’s what people want, that’s what people like and I’m not a part of that,” she says over a Zoom call.
When Odusote got to high school, she had more friends that looked like her, but there was still a very small population of diverse individuals. Her world changed when she moved to Toronto in 2021 for university.
“You take me how I am. You were the one that scouted me. I’m not going to change”
Dara Odusote, a third-year psychology student at TMU, was the only Black girl in her en -
“Oh my God, there’s so many people. Oh my goodness, and it’s not just five people,” she says as she describes the rush of thoughts upon seeing so many diverse people all in one place.
Like Ochalefu, Odusote also models. She was scouted by an
otism. It’s filled with discrimination. It’s filled with all sorts of people that are commenting on your body size and making all sorts of assumptions about you,” she says.
When Odusote moved to Toronto, she decided she was done with modelling. But shortly after, she got scouted again by a new agency called Anita Norris Models. She told them no at first—she didn’t want to be subjected to that industry again. However, upon second thought, she decided to give it another try, but this time she came prepared with conditions.
“You take me how I am. You were the one that scouted me. I’m not going to change,” she told the agency. If they didn’t accept these guidelines, then she was out. They agreed and she’s been happy working with them ever since.
Setting boundaries took a lot of strength but she says it was necessary to protect herself.
“It takes a lot more work for somebody like me and other people that grew up in predominantly white areas to really find themselves and find beauty in themselves,” she says.
Loving yourself takes work, Odusote says. But this shouldn’t stop anyone from being who they truly are or aspire to be. Whether it takes surrounding oneself a strong community of people around to realize this or a break from social media, acknowledging how harmful beauty standards are is the first step
“It takes a lot of courage and that should be applauded,” OduSharma believes societies and communities should challenge the traditional idea of beauty and that this is essential to shatter the standard com -
“Our idea of beauty can be challenged and changed over time. I know mine has and I think a lot of that comes from addressing these issues, exposing yourself to the world, to different people [and] to different perspectives.”
*This source requested to omit his last name due to safety concerns. The Eyeopener has verified this source.
room sewing, practicing makeup or preparing for a show instead of hanging out with them,” he admitted.
Still, he ensures that he remains on top of his academic responsibilities and immerses himself in university life as best as he can.
“In my first year, I really neglected drag a little bit because I was so focused on making friends and adjusting to university—I didn’t give drag much time,” said Berman. “Once second-year came, I really wanted to get back into it to the extent that I wanted to but I really had to work harder to make time for this hobby.”
The art of self-expression through drag
Joseph Berman finds creative passions and empowerment within drag artistry
By Adriana Fallico
Joseph Berman can recall his love for dancing in dresses and playing in skirts at a young age.
Growing up, the third-year creative industries student from Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) was always drawn to musical theatre, performance and dance but didn’t know how to express his passions.
“I was always a pretty feminine kid,” said Berman.
He was also figuring out his sexuality and gender identity, something he was working to unravel in his later years of high school.
He discovered drag—a creative form of self-expression in which individuals create a persona used to celebrate gender nonconformity and the queer community—when his sister showed him a performance from the show RuPaul’s Drag Race as a young teen. Although he immediately felt drawn to the art form, Berman was still apprehensive.
He slowly eased his way into the drag race fandom, rapidly watching all seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race and immersing himself in the artists’ lifestyles on social media. From the eccentric clothing, vibrant makeup, fiery personalities and performances, Berman quickly became enthralled.
What cemented his dedication to the art form was attending a drag-themed open-mic night at a Toronto bar as a first-year student— but he had to get creative with his outfit.
“I borrowed a friend’s dress that did not fit me and I bought a really not great wig and the shoes didn’t fit me,” said Berman. “So that was my first opportunity to try [drag] myself.”
This is a path that many TMU students can find themselves following: understanding who they want to be and how they can take the first step forward toward accepting their passions and achieving their goals.
As university can expose students to different walks of life, practices and activities, students can be taken down an adventurous path toward an aspiration that can be scary or uncertain. However, one thing these avenues have in common is the risks that are taken in order to reach their personal goals.
Gerald Cupchik, a psychology professor at the University of Toronto, identified the core of risk-taking as “going against the most traditional views of what you should be.”
Jens O. Zinn’s scholarly article titled The meaning of risk-taking - key components and dimensions found that “risk-taking is not always clearly rooted in a particular social environment [milieu]” but is rather “part of a process of learning and routinizing that follows an ‘internal’ dynamic of the risk-taking activity.”
This is a sentiment that Berman relates to as he practices drag himself, going by the stage name Josie when strutting down a catwalk.
“Obviously with any art form—with time and practice—you gradually evolve in all the skills,” he said. “I think I love it as much as I do because [drag] lets me combine all my creative interests into one medium that I’m so passionate about.”
He also doesn’t plan out the majority of his performance routines, freestyling on stage whenever he is given the chance, adding the element of surprise to viewers in the audience.
Amassing over 1,100 Instagram followers on his drag account ‘@nowjosie,’ Berman is continuously working his way up in the Canadian drag scene while balancing his life as a full-time university student.
“[Drag] has slowly become very dominant in my everyday life,” said Berman. “It was a gradual thing where I had one wig in my room and suddenly I have four wigs and now a shelf that is covered in wigs.”
Berman is a mostly self-taught sewer, having gotten a close friend to help him set up his sewing machine and teach him the basics. This has helped him design and create his own outfits, eventually learning how to do his own makeup over the past year. Now he has an entire closet in his basement dedicated to storing drag clothing and sewing equipment.
Despite his dedication to drag, he acknowledged that the practice could pose a risk to his life away from his drag persona in many different ways—including his studies, transportation and even his relationships.
Berman occasionally finds himself putting his drag career over his academics, a balance he is still working to perfect.
“There have been nights where I am performing at a show or sewing a dress [when] I could have spent it studying,” said Berman. “I’ll be backstage working on an assessment during the show. I’ll be still in full makeup and writing a discussion post.”
Additionally, taking the time to design outfits and practice routines usually takes one to three days, resulting in him having to “sacrifice time with family and friends” to continue developing himself as a drag artist.
“I’ll have family over and I’ll be in my
He believes that one of his biggest tests with drag has been its financial aspect as he has to continuously purchase new products to keep up with developing trends.
“I didn’t realize how much this would add up,” he said. “Makeup expenses, hair, shoes, tights—it really adds up quickly. It definitely is a challenge.”
Berman is also hyper-aware of the extra safety precautions he may need to take when travelling to and from shows in Toronto.
“You hear so many horror stories of queer people who have been jumped,” he said. “Luckily [for me] it is relatively safe, but I never take the [Toronto Transit Commission] and always Uber to my gigs.”
In the Toronto Police Service’s 2023 Annual Hate Crime Statistical Report, the department stated that there’s been a “continued increase in reported 2SLGBTQI+ hate crimes” in the city with the community also being the “most frequently targeted group for assault occurrences.”
Cupchik also believes that when taking risks, safety should always be of the utmost importance.
“Risk-taking requires wisdom,” said Cupchik. “At every minute we are exposed to risk and at every minute we have to make wise decisions.”
Despite the many risks and hurdles that Berman faces, what fuels him to continue is what his first impression of drag was— the infectious energy of the crowd during a performance.
“It is so dynamic and such a contagious, exciting spirit,” he said.
Berman is also unafraid to bet on himself outside of drag performances as he is currently in Ireland on student exchange at TU Dublin. He said he hopes to travel around Europe while he’s there. However, he knew he could not travel to Ireland without dipping his toes into the country’s drag community.
“I definitely do have the intention of trying to involve myself and perform in Ireland to some capacity,” he said. “From what I’ve seen, the active drag scene is not really to the scale of what it’s like in Toronto, but there’s one gay bar that I’ve noticed that hosts drag shows pretty frequently.”
In fact, as he packed to go on exchange, he was unsure of which products to take with him.
“My dad and I were really struggling with limiting how much I could bring with weight limits for suitcases and whatnot,” remembered Berman. “He was like ‘If you want to bring all your Joseph clothes with you, you can’t take all the drag stuff you want.’”
Despite bringing more of his own personal belongings rather than Josie’s, there was one upside Berman found.
“I’ll need to buy a new dress, high heels and a new makeup mirror,” he giggled.
PHOTO ILLUSTRATION:
SAIF-ULLAH KHAN
IMAGE SUPPLIED BY JOSEPH BERMAN/MAX CHU
The code switching trap: identity versus acceptance
Some TMU students find that they modify their personality depending on their environment
By Daniyah Yaqoob
From suppressed accents, Westernized takes on traditional outfits, cultural foods only eaten at home and other cultural modifications, there are various ways that some students from ethnic households seek to fit into Western ideologies.
Students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) from ethnic households and abroad may struggle to find a balance between their cultural identities and external pressures they must adhere to as part of Canada’s general population. For some, this results in a not-so-simple solution: code-switching.
dents born and raised immersed in one culture and forced into another, code-switching feels like a necessary step to take. In the midst of the act, the question of their identity comes to focus, as they ask themselves which of the personalities they put on is their true self and how far they’re willing to change who they are to be accepted.
“I don’t want people to feel like they need to change themselves for other people”
The term “code-switching” was coined in the 1950s by linguist Einar Haugen—though its origin is largely contested due to the interdisciplinary nature of the term— and refers to someone who moves between languages and dialects based on who they are surrounded by. Code-switching is done almost universally as people may speak casually with friends but their vocabulary and intonation change when speaking to someone in a position of authority.
Substantial research on the topic particularly analyzed how AfricanAmericans are forced to shift from African American Vernacular English to “standard English” because the former was considered to be “a sign of lower socioeconomic status and a lack of formal education.”
Benedicte Mundundu, a secondyear public health student, comes from a Congolese background and was born and raised in Toronto’s Regent Park. Having grown up in a household speaking Lingala, she is all too familiar with having to adjust her vocabulary and tone to fit in.
When she enters professional settings, she said various traits of hers change. Mundundu’s voice takes on a higher pitch, she begins to excessively smile and dresses differently—even the way she walks changes.
“I’m doing it to please others so they could just accept me into their society,” said Mundundu. “It’s wrong, I know. But at the same time, that’s what we need to do to get forward in society.”
It’s not a dilemma that Mundundu faces alone. For many TMU stu-
Within psychology, the term “code-switching” covers a wider breadth, as it refers to the changes people make in their behaviour, appearance and expression as well as speech. At its core, according to an article in Harvard Business Review, is often the desire to gratify someone else’s comfort “in exchange for fair treatment, quality service, and employment opportunities.”
Sometimes, this adjustment’s process isn’t even a conscious choice.
Ramiyah Davidson is a first-year language and intercultural relations student who was born and raised in Grenada, a country in the Caribbean. She grew up speaking Grenadian Creole—a language she said people refer to as “broken English.”
Even back home in Grenada, Davidson found herself codeswitching. Her father, who is from the countryside, often spoke Grenadian Creole. When she was around his side of the family, she followed suit. But where she grew up—in the city of St. George’s with her maternal family members—she would speak standard English at school or with tourists.
“My [maternal] grandma would always correct me to speak in English [when she spoke Grenadian Creole] and called it ‘proper English’ or the ‘Queen’s English,’” she recalled.
When Davidson was 12, she moved to Scarborough, Ont. Here, people were constantly surprised by how good her English was—and yet, she was bullied for her accent.
“I started speaking less,” she said. “I didn’t feel as comfortable or confident speaking.”
A heavy realization for her came in 2020, as Davidson—alongside millions around the globe—went into quarantine due to the COVID-19 pandemic. While isolated, she watched back videos of herself, noting how her Creole accent had
started to slip away when she was around her peers and how different her voice sounded than when she spoke at home.
“I felt like I lost a significant part of myself,” Davidson said.
“Other than my name and the way I look, the other thing that people always notice about someone is their voice. The way they speak, the way they carry themselves. And by changing that part of me, I wasn’t being authentic to myself, to my identity,” she continued.
According to Pew Research, 40 per cent of Black adults in the United States feel the need to code-switch when they are around people of different ethnic backgrounds. The same percentage applied to Hispanic adults—which includes people who don’t identify as Black or white.
A 2021 study in Affective Science found that people who codeswitch are also always mentalizing—or considering how others are thinking or perceiving them. It also reported that people who engage in code-switching run the risk of undergoing a “stereotype threat” or reinforcing negative perceptions about their community, causing them to constantly self-regulate to avoid the threat.
The simultaneous task of mentalizing and code-switching can become exhausting for those who do it often.
“I feel it takes way more of my energy than anything else,” Davidson said. “Not only does it take a toll on my energy, I also get annoyed with myself.”
In Mundundu’s experience, code-switching is something she’d seen her parents do. Oftentimes, in part due to their worries about how they and their family would be perceived in Canada.
“My mom works in a school district and she has Congolese friends, so they [engage] on their own. But when she talks to the principal or to other colleagues, she has a certain way she talks, walks and acts. It’s very specific,” she said.
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan and Khadijah Ghauri
She felt her parents didn’t focus on preserving Congolese culture in their household while growing up and attributed it perhaps to the negative connotations that Congo and the Lingala language gets. Mundundu recalled words like “dirty” and “ghetto” being used to perceive it. Mundundu went out of her way to reconnect with her roots, by learning her native language and cultural history while considering it an essential part of herself. But still, even she hides her background sometimes—regrettably, she said—to avoid those negative perceptions.
She said this constant codeswitching and having seen her parents do the same has impacted her psychologically.
Still, Davidson and Mundundu are always doing their best to reconnect with their cultures and most importantly, themselves.
When she visited Grenada for the first time since moving to Canada, Davidson’s friends immediately pointed out her changed accent. She said this impacted her because since she moved away, she began to love her accent more.
Realizing that she had unconsciously “watered down” her accent, Davidson now actively works to preserve it. She also found poetry was a way to connect with her authentic voice, through the use of idioms and parables that people “back home” generally converse in.
“I’m currently dealing with a selfidentity crisis. I’ve lost who I am”
“I’m currently dealing with a self-identity crisis. I’ve lost who I am,” she said. “Code-switching is deeper than people think it is. I faked a personality and I don’t even know where it comes from.”
“I don’t want people to feel like they need to change themselves for other people,” she said.
Despite all of its negative consequences, Mundundu recognized the unfortunate benefits that codeswitching can have on increasing opportunities in Western countries. But even that points to a larger issue about who Canadian society favours, she said.
“We just want to live in a community where everybody can be themselves and get skills together without worrying, ‘Will the way I talk, the way I act affect that,’” she said.
According to Davidson, people are only truly themselves when they are with themselves, at least in her own experience. However, to show more authentic parts of their identity to the world—to be unapologetic in it—society has to be willing to learn and engage.
Embracing the black sheep: Students find liberation in BEING DIFFERENT
The black sheep discovers liberation through embracing individuality over conformity
By Jasmine Makar
Being different is often a fighting feeling, a battle that deters many from following their dreams and aspirations. But when the largest opposition is those closest to you, the disapproval can often hit harder—unless it can be transformed into motivation.
According to the American Psychological Association, the ‘black sheep’ label is typically adopted when people respond negatively to a person’s individuality that “threatens their group’s identity.”
Whether it’s starting a business beyond expectations, being the first in the family to go to university or simply following a passion despite push-back, some students at Toronto Metropolitan University have chosen themselves and their liberation over conformity.
Fourth-year business management student RJ Mijares expressed how the black sheep label—which was primarily established from having different outlooks than his family— now provides him motivation in his entrepreneurial endeavours and future career goals after graduation.
He said his biggest reason for feeling like a black sheep was because his goals “were different from other kids’ goals.”
Mijares explained that he has always chased a “simpler life,” and because of teachings from his mentor, a businessman he met in high school, he always had a different outlook on success—one based on saving and investing money rather than using it to go on vacation and relax.
Though he has consciously worked at his passions and aspirations, he feels a lot of pressure from his family to perform, especially now that graduation is near.
more expected of you to provide than if you’re going to take on that kind of role [of chasing your goals],” said Mijares. “That’s when I felt even more isolated and like a black sheep.”
Mijares’ upbringing was also a large part of his mindset, growing up in community housing and seeing kids that “made it.” He explained the unspoken stigma that existed there, one being that kids in that environment “aren’t supposed to make it,” including himself. Mijares said he related to the mentality of being different—of
ry and then you can do so much with the literal mechanics of the thing that you’re making and the science of it,” said Copithorne.
She explained that this choice eventually led her to become estranged from her father’s side of the family.
“On my mom’s side, that sort of ‘different-ness,’ the thing that made me special was celebrated…and then on the other side, it was almost [just] tolerated,” said Copithorne.
When Copithorne decided to pursue her media production as-
Experiencing a loss of confidence is not uncommon with this characterization and Mijares shared that “most people give up and it’s like, ‘I’m gonna give up because everybody’s told me I can’t do it’ […] it eats at you because now you feel less confident in yourself.”
“The black sheep label, it was sort of something I took pride in, standing out”
“‘You’re not gonna be able to achieve those things.’ And I was like, ‘OK, watch me,’” he recalled, referencing frequent comments from friends and family. “My goals really haven’t deviated that much at all from what I want to achieve out of life.”
Licensed clinical social worker and psychotherapist Kaytee Gil -
being a black sheep.
“Everybody’s told me I can’t do it’… it eats at you be- cause now you feel less confident in yourself”
“When you start being treated differently in a way that there’s more expected of you, there’s
First-year RTA media production student Tianna Copithorne explained her drive to attend university in a program reflecting her passion for movies, music, performance and storytelling.
“There’s so much thought that goes into [media production], it’s like you have the heart of the sto-
pirations, her relationship with some family members “soured completely,” leaving her battling conflicting emotions.
She is the first in her family to pursue film and media production professionally, and while this motivated her to pursue her passion, she also felt isolated.
Although both Copithorne and Mijares found motivation through the black sheep label, they also have their own qualms with the label.
“Every negative experience I’ve had with being the black sheep ties back into that feeling of some people just don’t get it.”
lis emphasized that feelings of shame and guilt are common among individuals who feel like a black sheep.
“This does not mean that the person did anything wrong, or that anything about them is wrong at all,” she wrote in an emailed statement to The Eyeopener.
Mijares echoed similar sentiments, as he is the first in his family to go to university and start his own business at just 20 years old.
He expressed his frustration and his continuous hunger to do more despite facing many people who doubt him.
Gillis explained that the struggles and situations that some individuals face when self-identifying with the black sheep label can often result in them needing to create their own methods of navigating life.
“Being the black sheep can sometimes ‘force’ us, in a way, to develop our own ways of personal growth and reinforce our individuality,” she wrote in the statement. “For those who grow up knowing that they can not rely on their family for support, this often leads us to find our own ways and to learn how to take care of our own needs.”
Gillis added that finding ways to value and love yourself is important along with finding your chosen family.
Copithorne found liberation in being a black sheep because her passion was never “just a silly little hobby” but a career that was built from her love for art, writing and producing.
The RTA media production program has surrounded Copithorne with like-minded people with similar interests—an experience she never got to have in high school. Discovering this community has created a new sense of community in her life while allowing her to maintain individuality.
“You’re just surrounded by people who are both like-minded and also so different from you,” she pointed out. “It’s like you found a community of other black sheep.”
“The black sheep label, it was sort of something that I took pride in, standing out,” said Copithorne.
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan and Khadijah Ghauri
Love without compromise: Balancing relationships with traditional expectations
By Sorousheh Salman
Cultural and familial norms play a large part in navigating personal relationships for some students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU).
Many unique challenges can arise from the intersection between someone’s personal relationships and values upheld by their background—in areas such as parental approval, language barriers, cultural standards and more.
Tanvi Yenna, an individual and couples therapist at the Toronto Relationship Clinic, specializes in people navigating the complex intersection of cultural traditions and personal relationships. She provides strategies for clients who are seeking to navigate their values amid traditional pressures.
Yenna said for some, people feel “like their parents’ expectations are a moving target that they can try and hit, but the goalpost will always move further…knowing that can help release the fears that come with not following cultural values.”
Malika Mona, a TMU alumna in law and business, has seen the
many sides to finding a partner while in a traditional family. Although her parents left choosing a partner to her, she said she still felt pressures associated with who she could be with, when and gender roles in the relationship.
“It is really taboo about going and mixing with other cultures”
Mona said she wanted to be with someone from within her religion, which she found in her partner Deen Hassan, a fifth-year global management student at TMU. Beyond religion, she faced the concern of her parents—who grew up in a “traditional sense”—questioning how she could be with someone outside of her Bengali culture.
“There is always [some questioning from family] like, ‘Oh, how are you going to get along with someone? How are you going to trust this person for your life,’” she said.
Mona said growing up in a culture that predominantly places men on a pedestal made her feel like she had to prioritize her partner over
herself. She expressed that if she adhered to those cultural norms, it would lead to her consistently putting her partner’s needs before her own.
“I wanted someone who would be more open and would have a breath of perspectives when it comes to gender roles and how your partner supports each other,” said Mona. “Luckily, I am a middle child. I’m not the eldest sister. I don’t have to break all the norms and my sister really paved the way for me to make it easier to introduce someone as a boyfriend.”
According to Yenna, people in relationships can be stuck in familial or cultural expectations and still work to protect their partners at the same time.
“I think a lot of people worry about what we will lose if we don’t follow our parents’ wishes,” she said. “I think [couples] have to figure out, ‘Am I really losing something, and also what am I gaining by having this person in my life?’”
Hassan shared that his parent’s ideologies were very open-minded and he was not exposed to many people of a similar background to him.
“My [Caribbean] background hasn’t really influenced my decision just because where I grew up, I didn’t even have a lot of people from my culture around me,” said Hassan.
“Looking for someone in my culture hasn’t really occurred to me. So I’ve always been kind of more open to people outside of my culture.”
This is not the case for first-year nursing student Abi Jana, whose romantic relationships were always assumed—by herself, her parents and those around her—to stay within her Sri Lankan culture.
“Expectations were always [about] finding someone from my [culture]...It is really taboo about going and mixing with other cultures,” Jana said.
According to Yenna, for the most part, parents consider it more important for them to have their child in their life and be honest with them than for them to follow their expectations.
“Some people’s parents are like… ‘So am I happy with [my kid’s] choice? No, but I’m still going to stick around,’” she said.
Jana shared that living in a current and younger generation, she and her cousins have become more accepting of exploring other cultures compared to what her parents grew up with.
“I wanted someone from my culture…even though my partner is a little bit distant from his culture. That’s just the way he grew up,” she said about her partner, firstyear business management student Jathy Nareshkumar.
Because of how she was raised, Jana said she is trying to slowly expose her partner to various aspects of their shared culture in a positive light.
Yenna explained that everybody comes from a culture each with its distinctive beliefs, and while it is important to be understanding, being in love is not a harmful act.
Read more at theeyeopener.com
How my two-week exchange in italy changed me
By Dylan Marks
Disclaimer: If you believe any of this story is real then your gullibility is amore than I can handle.
I’m not one to brag—though I do own four air fryers—but my two weeks studying abroad were insane! I hit up all the best clubs, watched Crazy Rich Asians on the plane, studied here and there and did so much shoplifting I could be considered an international criminal!
When I first told my parents I was thinking of studying abroad, my dad asked for her name and my mom was fully supportive. So I packed my very expensive Louis Vuitton Alzer 75 bag (you don’t even want to know how much she cost) and headed off to Italy!
When I stepped off the plane and into that sweet Italia—as we locals call it—air, it felt like coming home. Even though I never fully learned the local lingo—something Italian-y I’m sure—I felt one with the culture after my two-week stay.
During my time at the University of Bologna, I met so many kooky characters, including my roommate Giuseppe Luigi De Luca Romano Ricci Provolone. He had the inside
scoop on the Italian scene.
The knowledge he carried amazed me to the point where I couldn’t keep my deepest question to myself. I asked him how accurate the depiction of Italy was in the critically acclaimed 2011 film Cars 2. He insisted that it was the weakest of the three, which resulted in a heated hours-long debate.
During my first week, we spent quite a bit of time doing actual schoolwork, which was not my intention when applying to “study” abroad. After a long day of work, I would always take a quick sonnellino as we say, or nap as you plebeians would say. Words like sonnellino and prego are just some of the ones I picked up while I bathed in the light of the Italian sun (or sole as we locals call it).
I planted on this trip!
At the end of the first week, Giuseppe and I hit up Italy’s best pizza spot, an exotic venue called Little Caesars. This place was one of a kind, there were insane amounts of cheese and a little orange guy with a spear on the box. Everything was so…hot…and ready!
After we “downed that cheese like Remy,” a phrase I coined back when I was in Paris, we headed back to our hotel and shared an intimate moment reflecting on everything we had learned so far. I told Giuseppe that I felt as if I was one with the soil, one with the sun sole and one with the air.
While I did this, he continued arguing about the quality of Cars 2, saying that “Mater’s role was heavily
a lot more twerking. Giuseppe and I hit up every major club in Bologna, Italy: Caesar’s Salad, The Pope’s Dope, Tonic Soprano and Leonardo Da Vino’s with their speciality drink, the “Mona Lager.”
At our final stop, Italy’s hottest straight people club, The Cis-teen Chapel, we decided to end the night with a song from Italia’s best singer, Michael Bublé (only those who are cultured with rich Italian roots will know him).
There I go again, calling myself a local. Even though I grew up in St. Jacob’s, Ont., I just can’t help but feel overwhelmingly connected to the roots
overplayed,” but I digress. During week two, there was a lot less working and
As my time abroad was coming to an end, it began to dawn on me that I would soon have to return home and leave all my beautiful fratelli and sorelle here in Italy. Knowing this, it was time to travel the country and do one last thing before I left.
After saying ciao to Giuseppe and sowing my oats with a few vibrant and beautiful men that looked like Super Mario, I set my sights on one final goal: seeing all the places where the best movies from Italy were filmed. Since I had basically become an Italian through this trip, I knew I would truly be able to connect to these places. “When in Rome,” right!? Literally!
As I travelled from the highest point of Mont Blanc to the lowest secret sex dungeons under St. Peter’s Basilica, I knocked a bunch of movie locations
off my bucket list. Cars 2, Madagascar 3, Luca and of course A Turtle’s Tale 2: Sammy’s Escape from Paradise.
As I took my final look at the big round ancient-looking stadium building from that one movie, I took a swig from my travel Owala and hailed a cab to the airport with the Uber app on my iPhone 16 Pro Max.
At the airport I gazed out the window at the beauty of Italy. Everything this country has ever stood for was right in front of my eyes and I conquered it all in just two weeks. Now that I’m back and have earned all this lived experience from my trip, I can honestly say I am a changed man. I believe I am no longer the person I was when I left for this trip two weeks ago. It may sound Sicily but I feel as though I am a canvas covered in the thick paint of experience, a freshly made margarita hurtling through the cosmos in search of salt for my rim, I am…Italia.
This trip helped me learn a few things. One, some people cannoli imagine how amazing this place is. Second, if you think you know Italy you’re full of Bologna. And finally, even if you aren’t from somewhere, once you stay there for two weeks you’re practically a local. So, if I could do it all over again, would I? Well, as us Italianos say, Sí!
Visuals by Khadijah Ghauri
Visuals by Khadijah Ghauri
“We built that community”
For some students with disabilities, self-advocacy on campus is not a matter of choice— it’s a means of survival
By Ella Miller
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan
When fourth-year student Laurence Price came to Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) in 2021, he was no stranger to the post-secondary environment. Price had already completed a bachelor’s degree at Seneca College and a master’s at York University and was returning to school at TMU in order to pursue a second bachelor’s degree in social work.
Price has dealt with various learning disabilities all throughout his life and developed a system of approaches to make his life in the classroom more manageable. This included recording the lectures he attends and working alongside a student notetaker.
“Even to get a notetaker, I had to argue with the school about it,” said Price. “I had to fight for everything on my accommodation sheet, explain who I am. For selfadvocacy, I believe that it’s hard to advocate for others if you can’t advocate for yourself.”
Studying social work was a way for Price to formally expand his own advocacy and desire to help others who may have struggled as well. Most of this work has unfortunately been born of struggle and now, because of his own challenges in being heard, Price finds himself adept in finding classmates who may need someone to stick up for them.
“I had one student, he came up to me [after] I gave him my email,” said Price about one such occasion where he had spotted a peer in need. “He couldn’t get a laptop funded—I really lobbied the school to fund
my laptop—and he said he really needed it, he had epilepsy. Unfortunately, he was failing all his grades so I taught him. I helped him with his work. I taught him how to get [the] attention of the facilitators.”
At TMU, this lobbying is mostly directed towards Accessibility Accommodation Support (AAS)—the primary governing body for students who require academic accommodation at the university due to disabilities. In theory, students with disabilities can register their needs with AAS—such as peer note-takers, extended time to complete tests and even funding for new equipment that can aid their learning.
“I don’t think that they understand totally how much students struggle and there’s some of them that are not willing to listen to students,” said Price. “When students try to speak up, they’re labelled as troublemakers, they’re labelled as being too pushy. So I think it’s even a structural problem within the school or systemic.”
The Eyeopener reached out to the university for comment several times but did not receive a response in time for publication.
AAS was repeatedly described by sources as being underfunded and understaffed, leading to a backlog of accommodations not being met. These issues have been persistent with AAS for over a decade. The Eye has previously reported on the shortcomings of AAS—then the Ryerson Access Centre—such as alleged instances of tardiness in approving accommodation requests or ineffective “blanket solutions” from the university.
Acting in response to these longstanding issues, the Neu-
rodiverse Students’ Association (NDSA) works to support neurodivergent students on campus. The group currently operates under the leadership of fifth-year engineering student Julian Ciaccia— who worked with AAS in the past as part of their student advisory committee but found the work to be draining.
“The language I would get in conversations with AAS staff is like ‘Oh we are doing something about it, we have a student subcommittee that’s working on bringing ideas to life for us,’” alleged Ciaccia. “Well that’s what they tell you, but when you actually go look at what these subcommittees do and what the committee does itself, it’s very much just the labour force.”
The NDSA operates on a more egalitarian model with an inhouse advocacy team according to Ciaccia. They have also worked together to compile hundreds of resources that can be shared amongst fellow NDSA members with all manner of disabilities.
“We have what we call an independent resource module. It’s a bunch of resources that we’ve compiled and that have been tested by our membership, that they have used themselves,” shared Ciaccia. “We have 232 resources over 23 categories.”
“If you feel that you have been
discriminated against on campus, you report it to us, provide the evidence and we will anonymously, on your behalf, investigate and kind of give shit to [the] faculty responsible,” he added.
“Even to get a notetaker, I had to argue with the school about it,”
The practice of interdependency—a pooling of resources to foster a sense of community—has long been a staple in disability justice movements, as defined by disabled writer and community organizer Mia Mingus in a blog post entitled, You Are Not Entitled to Our Deaths: COVID, Abled Supremacy & Interdependence.
“Interdependence is ultimately about ‘we,’ instead of ‘me,’” wrote Mingus. “It understands that we are bound together, by virtue of existing on this planet. Interdependence is generative and grounded in care for one another. It doesn’t live in obligation or entitlement, but rather a loving willingness and a sacred giving.”
However, digging deep and finding that energy to care can be difficult for those who are already navigating a post-secondary environment with a disability. As such, performing day-to-day tasks can become even more strenuous and exhausting.
Olivia Boonstra, the senior research officer at Eviance, formerly known as the Canadian Centre for Disability Studies, explained this form of social reproduction.
“The labour that students with disabilities have to put into their studies—into
getting accommodated, into getting bursaries, into repayments—all of this stuff is incredible,” said Boonstra, who is also a TMU alumna and former employee with the school’s Office of Social Innovation.
Adding on to this is the fact that statistically, disabled folks are less likely to have the financial freedom to volunteer their time to advocacy work, according to a recent study by a team of researchers at York University.
Boonstra described some barriers students with disabilities who become part-time students or may otherwise take longer to finish their degrees can face because of the extended time to complete their programs.
“Often paying a lot more overall for your degree because you still have to pay really high tuition and fees, and you have to do that for much longer, so debt accumulates, quite a bit more,” said Boonstra.
Still, clubs like the NDSA and the Toronto Metropolitan Students’ Union’s Student Access Collective are working to improve these conditions. Other clubs like Tetra’s TMU chapter—which doesn’t directly deal with disability advocacy—is working to innovate cost-effective solutions to accessibility barriers, such as attachable wheelchair headrests and hospital call buttons for people with limited mobility.
Read more at theeyeopener.com
Removing the stigma of the solo : TMU’s introverted students are defying extroverted norms
How TMU’s more reserved students shape the school community
By Eunice Soriano
Visuals by Saif-Ullah Khan and Khadijah Ghauri
In the bustling metropolis of Toronto, filled with vibrant noises and loud chatter coming from each corner, there exist students who prefer to be quiet and reserved—softly making their way through the ups and downs of university life.
While extroverts can be known as the lively force in group interactions, Toronto Metropolitan University’s (TMU) social culture is shaped not only by those who are outwardly vocal but also by its introverted students.
Patric Plesa, an assistant professor of psychology at TMU, highlighted key comparisons between how introverts and extroverts interact. He emphasized on the clash of internal stimulation and external stimulation—changes or experiences that occur within versus outside someone’s body.
“Introverts seem to have a lot of internal stimulation happening and when they encounter external stimulation that sometimes conflicts with that internal stimulation, [it] causes overstimulation,” said Plesa.
“Extroverts seem to seek exter nal stimulation because they don’t have that internal stimulation happening at the same time. And therefore, they feel more social,” they continued.
“Introverts also seek social interactions”
In an intense inter active and academic setting such as a uni versity campus that often demands social activity, the imbalance between introverts and extroverts reflects a tipping scale, one that typically fa vours extroverts. Ple sa said these types of establishments are quick to grant extro verted students with more opportunities.
“A lot of the ways that our institutions are built tend to advan tage extroverts. It’s like
the ‘early bird gets the worm,’” they said. “The person who stands out is going to be the one who’s noticed.”
“I’m not on campus a lot, so it’s nice to meet some friends”
Though this stigma is embedded into modern society, some students at TMU are looking to combat it and make their mark within the school community, all while refusing to compromise their nature.
One of those students is thirdyear biomedical sciences student Hanna Phan who said her introverted nature goes hand-in-hand with “feeling comfortable in my own skin.”
“I think it adds to my independence and my comfort in my independence,” she said. “It’s unapologetically doing my own thing and not feeling like I need to depend on other people all the time.”
Though she has no problem
with embracing alone time, Phan never shies away from her duties as the vice president of academics for the Biomedical Sciences Course Union (BSCU) at TMU.
In her role, Phan is responsible for hosting town halls—a safe space where students can express their concerns to the faculty of biomedical sciences.
Playing the “middle man” at these events has pushed Phan out of her comfort zone. “I’m passionate about communicating student concerns and getting something done about that,” she said.
Even when faced with a large crowd, Phan finds confidence in knowing that she is amplifying student voices within the BSCU.
Like Phan, fellow third-year biomedical sciences student Tamanjot Baraich engages in an ongoing list of extracurricular activities. In particular, she acts as the vice president of operations for the Undergraduate Science Society of Toronto Metropolitan (USSTM).
Baraich and her peers stay busy at work to ensure their monthly events run smoothly. Whether they are tasked to find venues, book caterers or manage locker rentals for the group, their tasks are more logistical as opposed to front-facing. Regardless of their contributions, they still play an instrumental role in the USSTM’s success.
Through her hard work, Baraich said she takes pride in being involved in the school community regardless of the personality type she falls into.
“It’s unapologeti- cally doing my own thing”
“As an introvert myself, I think to some extent, I’ve been more involved in the community than other extroverts I know.” she said.
With three years of contributing to various clubs and organizations under their belt, both Baraich and Phan have made their
fair share of contributions in the TMU community.
But not everyone is at that stage yet.
Some, like first-year politics and governance student Justin Luna-Li, hope to get more involved on campus.
In search of groups to become involved in, Luna-Li participated in his first Model UN meeting in January. He was hoping to find an outlet where he could explore his passion for global politics and said joining the club gave him the chance to make new friends amidst his busy schedule.
“It’s nice to have a community to go to…I’m a commuter student, I’m not on campus a lot, so it’s nice to meet some friends sometimes,” said Luna-Li.
Plesa diffused the common “anti-social” misconceptions that are painted on the introverted image.
“For the most part, introverts also seek social interactions,” they said. “They might just seek different interactions, ones that are perhaps more quiet or an environment that provides the type of stimulation that makes them feel able to engage with the people
“They’re the most wonderful people you’ll ever meet”
Similarly, Baraich believes that introverts are approachable and despite the “anti-social” stigma, they are capable of engaging in meaningful connections.
“Introverts aren’t anti-social. If you get to know [introverts], I feel like they’re the most wonderful people you’ll ever meet,” she said.
In the long hours between her classes, Phan said taking part in extracurricular activities have acted as new paths where she can foster her passions without conforming to extroverted norms.
“Having those opportunities to find out [what] you are actually passionate about can help push yourself out of your comfort zone instead of forcing yourself,” she said.
Join The Eyeopener’s Fall 2025 masthead
Interested in joining The Eyeopener’s masthead? Wait no longer...Eyelections are back! Please read below to find answers to any questions you might have about this special time of year and how you can join our team.
What are Eyelections?
Near the end of every semester, The Eye hosts its masthead elections, also known as Eyelections, to hire new editors. Our masthead operates on an electoral process, meaning members must be voted in by The Eye’s community to take on a position.
Who can run?
Current full-time undergraduate or graduate Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU) students are eligible to run for a position. Candidates do not need contribution points to run in Eyelections. The campaigning period will open on Wednesday, March 19 at 10 a.m., meaning candidates will be able to begin fulfilling their nomination requirements.
Which positions are available?
During the end-of-year elections, all of The Eye’s positions are open to be filled. Here are the roles available for the fall 2025 semester:
Editor-in-Chief (1)
News Editors (3)
Arts & Culture Editor (1)
Business & Technology Editor (1)
Communities Editor (1)
Features Editor (1)
Fun & Satire Editor (1)
Sports Editors (2)
Production Editors (2)
Photo Editors (3)
Media Editors (2)
Digital Producer (1)
Who can vote?
All masthead members and contributors who have accumulated three or more contribution points this semester will receive an email ballot on voting day.
Eyelection day details
The Fall 2025 Eyelections will be held in the Oakham Lounge on Thursday, April 3 from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m. It’ll be an awesome night of speeches and Q&A periods for all candidates. The current masthead, eligible voters and candidates are invited to attend. If you fall outside these categories but would like to come, RSVP by emailing editor@theeyeopener.com Candidates must have all nomination requirements completed by Wednesday, April 2 at 11:59 p.m. to be eligible.
How do I apply?
How do I vote?
For more information, scan the QR code below to view a full document outlining all position, nomination, election and voting details. Be sure to reach out to editor@theeyeopener. com if you have further questions.
Quiz: Do you care about what people think of you?
Maybe being dark and mysterious is a micro-trend yet to be followed…
By Anaya Sharma
Does talking to strangers frighten the living hell out of you? Are you scared of rambling until you talk their ears off? Do you constantly experience major underlying fears of judgement wallowing over until you want to be buried six feet deep under?
Well, I’m definitely sure you’re not the only one.
Sometimes the pressure to maintain socially acceptable behaviour works in your favour. Other times you might feel like you’re trapped in an awkward situation with sweaty armpits! But does filtering yourself make you inauthentic? Find out where you land on this self-authenticity journey with our little quiz.
How do you communicate good news with a close friend?
a. I call them excitedly right away and spam text if they don’t pick up
b. I’d be looking forward to telling them but probably over a text conversation when we’re both available online
c. I’ll just give them an update whenever we meet if the subject comes up
Word Search Giveaway
The Eyeopener is searching for a winner to one preloaded $100 Presto card
We know, whether it’s a 10-minute or hour-and-a-half commute, its not something you look forward to. The Eyeopener wants to help pay for your commute. You could win a Presto card with $100 pre-loaded . So all you have to do on your commute is take a nap, read a book or harness your main character energy by staring out the window longingly. Entering is easy! Grab a marker, pen, pencil or highlighter. Find all the words listed in the word bank. Submit a photo of the completed word search to the Google Form by scanning the QR code. The contest will close on March 25th and winners will be contacted by March 28. Good luck! Rules can be found in our Instagram bio @theeyewideopen.
Picture you’re trapped in an ‘Oh no, what do we talk about now’ silence midconversation. What does your instinct tell you to do?
a. Speak about whatever has been on my mind—I’m scared of long, empty silences
b. Ask them around about their favourite pizza place—seems neutral enough
c. Hold ‘em in an unspoken stalemate—first person to cave in and speak loses
A friend of your friend is having a tough time with their situationship. What’s your response?
a. You tell them it’s going to be alright and are willing to hear them out as if they were one of your own friends
b. You’re unsure if they actually want to talk so you resolve to a simple pat on the head followed by a “there, there”
c. Wondering if you look sad enough or if you’re just smouldering
You’ve accidentally said something with a slightly unintended tone. What’s your action plan?
a. Immediately apologize and say “I didn’t mean it like that”
b. It’s okay…what’s done in done, I’ll be more careful next time
c. I HAVE to make sure that I’m constantly apologizing for a while after and repeatedly asking if they felt bad about it
To what extent do you use the ‘fake it till you make it’ philosophy?
a. NEVER! Why fake it when I’ve already made it?
b. Every now and then but only after I’ve read the room enough to understand the vibe
c. It was made to be used and honestly poses as a decent conversation starter at times
Answers can be found at theeyeopener.com or scan the QR code here
