Volume 46, Issue 5

Doctors and medical students criticize new Quebec bill

New bill targets doctors and sanctions strike actions

Maria Cholakova @_maria_cholakova_

Justdays ago, while shadowing a surgeon, Ryan Kara, the executive president of McGill University’s Medical Students’ Society (MSS), watched a doctor nearly die from sheer exhaustion while treating a patient.

“He hadn’t slept for four days, four days in a row. When the transplant nished, he fell asleep on the wheel and he hit the bus that was parked, almost died,” Kara said. “Now, he sees on the news that he's being told, ‘Well, you don't work enough.’”

On Oct. 25, in a ash vote right before 4 a.m., the Quebec government passed Bill 2, “An Act mainly to establish collective responsibility with respect to improvement of access to medical services and to ensure continuity of provision of those services.”

e bill seeks to link the compensation of doctors to the amount of patients they care for and includes a section prohibiting what the bill calls “concerted actions” to challenge the government’s policies.

e special legislation was passed a er the government and doctors’ unions were unable to reach a negotiated deal over a new salary structure with doctors.

Since the announcement of the bill, doctors have begun organizing protests and promised to challenge the provincial government in court.

What is Bill 2?

According to the Quebec government, the bill “aims to improve access to medical services.”

To achieve that promise, the bill will put in place a number of restrictions, requirements and nes. One of the main objectives is to ensure that 17.5 million appointment slots are made available per year in Quebec for general practitioners, that 98 per cent of surgeries are performed within one year of the surgical request and that 95 per cent of patients in emergency rooms are seen by a doctor within 90 minutes of being triaged.

In 2024, according to data by the Régie de l'assurance maladie du Québec (RAMQ), 780 general practitioners and specialists le the public system, an increase of 22 per cent compared to the year prior. Additionally, 1.5 million Quebec residents do not have a family doctor.

e bill also introduces a new payment model for doctors, based on a “blended remuneration method.”

Currently, doctors are paid based on what medical acts

they perform. e new system, however, will pay out doctors based on xed amounts, which are calculated through the patient's health and vulnerability status.

According to section 201 of Bill 2, the government will impose fines of up to $500,000 per day for doctor federations or representative groups that organize disruptive actions. Fines will also target individual doctors who disrupt work, from $4,000 to $20,000 per day.

Section 159, meanwhile, states that sanctions will also be implemented if a doctor is “non-compliant” with the new obligations set under the bill. e RAMQ can deduct 40 per cent of their pay for each day of that non-compliance.

Doctors over 63 years old are the only group exempt from the changes in the bill.

Public backlash and doctors’ concerns

On Oct. 26, a day a er the bill was announced, around 300 health practitioners gathered at the Maison de Radio-Canada building to protest the new bill.

Family doctor Elise Huot said the bill has failed to listen to doctors' concerns.

“Emotionally, we are exhausted, frustrated, sad,” Huot said. “We are scared. I am scared for my friends, I am especially scared for my patients.”

Huot criticized the government for setting unrealistic expectations for doctors, which are set to come into e ect in January 2026.

“If I have a colleague who has cancer, or a colleague who is a mom coming part-time whilst the kids are in a daycare, every time it's one less person there to hit those objectives,” she said.

According to Canadian Medical Association (CMA) president Margot Burnell, the government’s implementation of the bill does not help doctors.

“CMA and physicians want to increase access for patients to primary care teams, to primary care models and to subspecialties,” Burnell said. “ e premise of this [bill] is that the fault lies with physicians [...]. If you mandate physicians treating an increased number of rostered patients without increasing resources in team-based care, then you will sacri ce quality of care.”

According to CMA’s 2025 National Physician Health Survey, 46 per cent of physicians report high levels of burnout.

Established, practicing doctors are not the only ones

concerned with these changes.

“As students, what we want is to be able to work in a system where the people that keep it alive and make it work are also the ones that are consulted to know what would help it,” Kara said. “We hope to be able to practice in a system that actually thrives, which doesn't seem to be the case at the moment.”

MSS held a general assembly on Oct. 26, where over 60 per cent of McGill’s medical students gathered to discuss Bill 2 and how it would a ect them. Of those present, 64.2 per cent voted in support of a strike.

Violet Williams, a McGill medical student who was granted a pseudonym to protect their identity, says the bill made them and their peers consider leaving the province.

“I've grown up in Montreal. I love Montreal. [...] I have no reason to move,” they said. “[My parents are] seeing the news. ey're telling me it makes no sense. I should go and try to nd residency elsewhere so I can potentially stay there and get a job.” Williams, who was present at the general assembly, said it’s a much-needed step forward.

“Part of being a medical student is advocacy,” Williams said. “It's not just about advocating for your patient when you're deciding on a treatment plan, but also advocating for patients as a whole. I'm really proud of our cohort in that sense.”

e Fédération médicale étudiante du Québec (FMEQ), which is made up of the four medical student associations of Quebec, led an application for judicial review of several sections of Bill 2 on Oct. 29.

A FMEQ press release stated that the move “aims to preserve the democratic space in which medical students can debate, mobilize, and express themselves freely, without fear of nancial or disciplinary sanctions.”

As a response to Bill 2, FMEQ has asked people to wear blue squares as a sign of opposition to the bill. Kara sees the square as the most non-aggressive way to show your disagreement with the bill and has asked students and medical sta to wear it in solidarity. e Link reached out to the Quebec Health Ministry for comment, but did not receive a reply by the time of publication.

With les from Ryan Pyke.

CSU councillors accused of breaching policy a er blocking two fee levies

Art Matters and the Legal Information Clinic say council ignored policy and denied students a vote

India Das-Brown

@india.db

Two council votes by the Concordia Student Union (CSU) have sparked debate, a er Art Matters and the Legal Information Clinic (LIC) each saw their fee levy increase requests denied before reaching the student ballot, despite both passing internal review.

Art Matters, a student-run arts festival that’s in its 25th year, rst saw its request for a two-cent increase blocked at a regular council meeting (RCM) on Oct. 22.

e festival’s general coordinator, Brigid McPhee, returned on Oct. 29 for a special council meeting (SCM) to request reconsideration. McPhee presented documentation spanning from 2002 as proof that the group is complying with its mandate to “build an inclusive community, working within an anti-oppression framework.”

protests concerning “the humanitarian situation in Gaza.”

“None of them had questions about our documents,” Tom said. “ eir role is to check whether the question was properly prepared, not to judge our clientele.”

Tom said the clinic serves all students and has provided accompaniment to a range of protests. e clinic handled 311 cases last academic year, a 177 per cent increase since 2021, and now operates with a $39,000 de cit.

Councillors Steinwald, Zorchinsky, Natanblut, Hechel, Wolman, Levitin, Wazana, Toledano and Aspler voted against the LIC levy.

cation,

you that every single fee levy that applied had all of their documentation in its entirety.”

McPhee said that the “rigorous” application process cost the festival over $3,000 and took four months of work. is included combing through archives for documentation on things such as board of directors’ meeting minutes, policies and bylaws, as well as hiring a registered accountant for a nancial audit.

Massot said that they believe blocking the fee levy vote from reaching students “takes away the opportunity from every other student to express their democratic right.”

In an interview with e Link

following the RCM, Mc-

Phee said that Art Matters’ political views and a liation were repeatedly questioned by self-identifying Zionist council members before the vote.

“I was asked the same question a number of times,” McPhee said, “and it felt like they were looking for an answer, or they were looking for us to endorse Zionism, which we do not.”

McPhee expressed frustration that a Fine Arts councillor campaigned on improving opportunities for Fine Arts students, then voted against the proposal without explanation.

“Students voted this person in, and now they’re not upholding what they promised to do,” McPhee said.

e CSU Policy on Fee Levy Applications states that, when considering a fee levy modi cation, council should “verify that all of the appropriate documentation has been submitted.” It also must ensure that the group is following “the mandate given to it at the previous referendum” and “whether the proposed question is fac-

tual and not prejudicial.”

CSU general coordinator Vanessa Massot said all applications were complete be-

fore reaching council.

“I personally reviewed

“Fee levy votes are one of the most accessible ways for students to practice democracy in student government,” they said. “By blocking a vote before it goes to referendum, councillors are using their privileged position to silence that process.”

Art Matters, as an a liate of the Fine Arts Student Alliance (FASA), supports the BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions) policy that FASA adopted last year, McPhee said.

e Link’s

Councillor Sarah Aspler, the Fine Arts representative who voted against Art Matters’ increase, did not respond to request for an interview by publication time.

At the Oct. 29 SCM, 10 councillors (Ashley Steinwald, Anastasia Zorchinsky, Chana Leah Natanblut, Liora Hechel, Sarah Wolman, Diana Levitin, Emilie Alexandre, Orly Wazana, Coby Toledano and Sarah Aspler) voted against Art Matters.

e CSU’s own Legal Information Clinic’s request to increase its levy from $0.31 to $0.61 per credit was also rejected at the SCM.

Walter Chi-Yan Tom, a legal representative from the clinic, said councillors penalized the clinic for o ering legal aid to student protesters whose views they disagreed with.

“ ese councillors blocked the question not because our documents were incomplete, but because they disagreed with the political opinions of some students we helped,” Tom said in an interview. “ at is, at the very least, irresponsible, and at the very worst, an abuse of power.”

He said councillors questioned the clinic’s involvement in

During the SCM, councillor Wazana said that she personally voted against Art Matters’ increase due to political disagreement with BDS. Councillor Steinwald also criticized the concerns raised at the SCM, saying, “It’s not so much a democracy if we all

every single fee levy application,” Massot said. “I can assure have to say yes.”

Why don’t students vote for their union?

Chantal Bellefeuille

With the Concordia Student Union (CSU)’s 2025 by-elections underway, student voter turnout remains uncertain, having varied widely in recent years and o en staying low.

e CSU is now in its campaign phase until Nov. 10, a er which voting will take place from Nov. 11 to Nov. 13. But with voter turnout ranging between 5.7 per cent and 21.1 per cent over the last six years, and last year’s by-election turnout only reaching 11.2 per cent, what will the results at the polls look like this November?

According to CSU internal a airs coordinator Leo Litke, voter turnout in the by-elections took a hit due to COVID-19, as student life shi ed predominantly to online or hybrid formats. As a result, many students were unaware of what was happening on campus.

“I feel like students get involved when they feel like they understand what is going on,” Litke said. “All the actual activities that were being done by student groups moved online or didn’t happen."

Both Art Matters and the LIC say they are working together to le a formal complaint to the CSU Judicial Board, alleging that councillors ignored procedure. If it nds that bylaws were breached, the Judicial Board can declare votes invalid or order council to revisit its decision.

“We just want to hold them as accountable as possible and ensure that they're making decisions based on the best interests of students,” McPhee said.

With les from Maria Cholakova.

With the Concordia Student Union in its by-election season, inconsistent voter turnout continues to raise concern

e highest voter turnouts in recent by-elections were recorded during the pandemic in fall 2020, when classes were entirely online, and in fall 2021, when the semester was hybrid. Voter turnout reached 17.8 per cent and 21.1 per cent in those years, respectively.

However, in fall 2022, during the rst fully in-person fall semester since 2019, turnout dropped signi cantly to 5.7 per cent. e by-elections aim to ll empty seats on the CSU’s council

CONCORDIA UNIVERSITY STUDENTS WON'T BE ABLE TO VOTE ON TWO FEE LEVY INCREASES THIS FALL. GRAPHIC BY NAYA HACHWA @NAYAS.STUDIO

of representatives and have students vote on referendum questions. ere is one seat to be lled for the Arts and Science Federation of Associations and one seat to be lled for the John Molson School of Business this year.

Concordia translation student Nouho Bamba says he’s not going to vote this November.

“I’m not too literate on elections,” he said. “ erefore, I don’t see the interest in voting.”

CSU chief electoral o cer Callum Ellis-Mennie feels that students o en view the CSU’s by-elections as less important than the general elections held in the winter semester because executives—those who oversee student programs and keep the administration accountable—aren’t on the ballot. is, Ellis-Mennie says, leads to student detachment.

“Inherently, [student] engagement is going to be lower with the by-elections,” he said. “It’s generally a disconnect from the school community for a big proportion of students. It doesn’t strike them as having that much of an impact on their student lives.”

Ellis-Mennie thinks that although the by-elections are less crucial to the CSU than the general elections, they’re still very important.

“[Students] still are deciding the shape of the CSU,” he said. “[ e council] is doing a lot of the decision making.”

Concordia software engineering student Addy Lakehal believes the CSU needs to improve its outreach to attract more voters. He says increasing both in-person and online engagement could help appeal to a wider range of students.

“Actually listening to the students, doing physical inter-

Combating ableism through education

actions, public interventions, then the public can at least voice themselves,” Lakehal said. “Also, being more online would help because we’re in the digital age.”

CSU general coordinator Vanessa Massot agrees with Lakehal, sharing that Arevig Nahabedian, the union’s student life coordinator, has some “big plans” in the works. Massot says the CSU intends to increase its social media content while also increasing in-person interactions to better engage students.

For Massot, direct communication with students may be the most e ective way to combat voting apathy.

“Speaking to someone, you can actually have that connection,” they said. “To me, one of the most important parts of the university is that [kind of] community.”

How post-secondary institutions can help students with disabilities in career development

Sean Richard

@sean.e.p.richard

Canadian youth currently face the highest unemployment rates since the 1990s, a crisis that especially a ects the 20.1 per cent of Canadian youth who experience some form of disability, according to Statistics Canada.

A new research project by the Canadian Council on Rehabilitation and Work (CCRW) shows how post-secondary institutions can better help students with disabilities to enter the job market a er graduation.

e study reports that these institutions can provide speci c career services such as cover letter reviews, interview preparation and access to recruitment and networking events. ey can also provide free or low-cost career counselling services for students a er graduation.

Vanessa Sinclair, the director of research and evaluation at CCRW, co-authored the research project. She believes that one of the main issues facing universities is their lack of collaboration with disability advocacy groups.

“I think that institutions could expand their partnerships with community organizations like CCRW or other similar community disability focused organizations to kind of broaden the disability-speci c resources that they have available,” Sinclair said.

CCRW o ers digital resources and employment coaches for students and youth with disabilities. It offers virtual reality training that can help youth with disabilities navigate challenging workplace interactions in a safe environment.

Sinclair also emphasized that universities should partner with employment centres and employers to destigmatize common ableist attitudes that some employers have. ese attitudes and assumptions represent common experiences that some students have when trying to nd work.

Gowrish Subramaniam, a second-year political science student at Concordia University, is visually impaired. He said he has encountered issues with employers making assumptions about his abilities and questioning his disability.

“I'm anxious if they're going to be judgmental on assuming what I can and cannot do,” Subramaniam

said. “ en the employer is also anxious, as well, because they have never met somebody who is visually impaired.”

e CCRW research report highlights the necessity for universities to help students with disabilities in self-advocacy. Only about 35 per cent of workers with disabilities request reasonable accommodations, even though employers have a legal duty to provide them, according to the report.

Post-secondary institutions can provide proactive training through workshops, role-playing simulations and mentorship programs to boost students’ con dence. But they also equip them with practical strategies when facing workplace barriers and advocating for their needs.

“I think some of the things that can help build those skills […] is giving folks a safe place to practice having those conversations,” Sinclair said.

Concordia’s Access Centre for Students with Disabilities (ACSD) offers workshops and resources for students with disabilities.

“I've heard that the number one skill that is important is the ability to really articulate what your accommodation needs are and to be able to explain what those are to the people around you,” said Adelina Feo, manager at the ACSD.

On one hand, students with disabilities should advocate for their needs, but on the other, there is a legitimate fear that employers will discriminate against them, Subramaniam said.

He expressed worries about how much people expect those with disabilities to advocate for themselves when, in reality, the employer should take the time to understand the resources available to them.

“To what extent can a person living with a disability go to satisfy an employer's perhaps lack of knowledge?” Subramaniam said. “I could educate them on the resources, the funding, the technology that I have available, and [...] disclose my disability and how that does not a ect one's duties.”

The research project indicates that post-secondary institutions can combat this lack of education by developing educational material and tools that career counsellors can share with employers. This would help in demystifying accessibility and accommodations, and help promote the value of youth with disabilities in the workplace, according to the project.

The ACSD attempts to fight this issue by hosting a job fair every year in collaboration with Career Advising and Professional Success.

“ e employees that are there are actually looking for inclusive employment opportunities and are reaching out speci cally to students with disabilities,” Feo said.

Still, some students think that the resources given to them are limited.

“I think we really need more advisors, 100 per cent, because we have a lack of funding,” Subramaniam said.

The ACSD employs just six advisors for the roughly 4,500 students registered with them, according to Feo. Concordia is once again projecting a de cit for the 2025-26 scal year, with the provincial government freezing operating grants and enrollment declining among international students.

According to Feo, that does not mean that the ACSD will stop trying to help its students.

“We see everybody, we have a duty to accommodate students who present with disability documentation,” Feo said. “So, we see everybody, no matter the volume of students that require our service.”

STUDENTS IN THE HENRY F. HALL BUILDING AT CONCORDIA UNIVERSITY'S DOWNTOWN CAMPUS.PHOTO BY ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS

THE ACCESS CENTRE AT CONCORDIA HOSTS WORKSHOPS AND PROVIDES RESOURCES FOR STUDENTS WITH DISABILITIES.

PHOTO BY ANDRAÉ LERONE LEWIS

New dinner initiative feeds students on Concordia’s downtown campus

The Spinach Collective aims to combat student food insecurity and bring people together

Kara Brulotte @kara.brulotte

Anew dinner program has popped up on Concordia University’s downtown campus.

e Spinach Collective opened early September and holds collective suppers bi-monthly, courtesy of a group of four students looking to improve Concordia’s food network.

e collective’s founders, Maria Jennett and Mia Kennedy, hatched the idea for the free vegetarian supper program a er Jennett interviewed Kennedy for a project about food systems for a class at Concordia. Kennedy, a former Concordia Food Coalition member, has been involved in food organizing since CEGEP.

Kennedy was familiar with the lack of dinner options at the university, especially at the Loyola campus. During the interview, she pitched Jennett the idea of doing something material to x it.

From here, the Spinach Collective was born.

“I always felt that there were no options,” Kennedy said. “For breakfast, you have the Hive, you have Reggies now. For lunch, there’s e People’s Potato, and then there’s nothing for dinner.”

ey recruited Allegra Ghiglione and Shannon Fejk, two friends with extensive cooking experience, and planned out how their initiative would work through vision boards and meetings with e People’s Potato.

A er a spring and summer of applying for grants, they received funding from the Student Space, Accessible Education, and Legal Contingency (SSAELC) Fund; the Sustainability Action Plan; and the Sustainability Action Fund.

Armed with around $20,000, the group of four were ready to begin providing food to students.

“It can be di cult to get funding from administration and SSAELC Fund,” Kennedy said. “But I think because this is such a pressing need and an urgent issue, they were able to get us funding.”

Students lined up around tables lled with food for the collective’s second dinner on Oct. 23,which took place in the Art Nook on the seventh oor of the Henry F. Hall building.

e bu et-style spread featured a beet salad, a vegetarian shepherd's pie and an apple crumble with whipped cream.

“Very excited to eat some food, share my music and meet some people,” said singer-songwriter Rose Chisholm, who strummed a guitar and sang throughout the night.

“I’m here for the free food and the good company,” said attendee Natalia Martinez.

The Spinach Collective said they intend to continue to include artists and skill sharers in their suppers. To make this happen, they’ve dedicated part of their budget to honorariums for performers.

e food takes a long path on its way to the collective’s dinner table.

One of the Spinach Collective’s main goals is to provide high-quality food when feeding students, according to Ghiglione. Ghiglione handles the meal plans, prep and recipes.

With previous experience in ne dining, she starts planning each menu by considering what ingredients are in season and talking to CultivAction, the cooperative of urban farmers that operates on Concordia’s Loyola campus, to see what is available.

“We want to work with local farmers as much as we can, especially Concordia farmers,” Ghiglione said. e collective then gets groceries from local student farms as well as the regular supermarket, preps the kitchen and cooks. Due to what they explained was a lack of kitchen space on campus, the group operate out of Ghiglione’s apartment and bring the food to campus in time for the meal.

Altogether, the process is a whole-day a air. e group makes around 50 portions of food, and by the end of dinner, there’s barely anything le , according to Kennedy. ere’s a lot on the horizon for the Spinach Collective. e group is hoping to come to an agreement with e People’s Potato to use their kitchen space, something which would ease the burden of cooking these dinners.

“It would allow for us to make bigger portions and more variety using the oven space,” Fejk said. “We’d also be able to get more volunteers and be able to teach people more about cooking.”

Additionally, the group hopes to get the word out about the program and increase their food quantities as more people show up, according to Kennedy.

“It helps to be o ering it in these high tra c areas,” Jennett said. “Our next step is really solidifying the spaces we’re gonna be cooking and serving out of, and getting the word out in a bigger and better way.”

e Spinach Collective also wants to push the program’s community aspect and highlight local artists and skillsharers like Chisholm. According to Ghiglione, the eventual goal is to have the program run every week and to alternate between the classic dinner setup and a more “chill event” like a workshop, where the team can focus on community.

"We really wanna be a space for sharing skills and have workshops or activities that get people to linger and build relationships,” Jennett said. “We’re still trying to gure out how that ts in.”

e program is a response to widespread food insecurity among Concordia students. e 2023 Concordia Student Food Insecurity Report found that 67 per cent of students surveyed experience some degree of food insecurity. With a 4 per cent rise in grocery prices in Canada over the last year, according to Statistics

Canada, food is not becoming any more a ordable for students.

Kennedy, who also acts as vice president of sustainability at the Concordia Student Union, said the dinner program is part of her mandate to improve food services at the university.

“ is project, and every community-run project, is a band-aid solution to the severe food insecurity problem at Concordia,” Kennedy said.

She added that the university needs a “systemic food revolution” to tackle its students’ food insecurity from the ground up. And though Kennedy believes the Spinach Collective has a hand in aiding this, she explained that more action is needed.

“It’s only with the political will of the administration that it’s actually gonna happen,” Kennedy said.

e Spinach Collective is looking for volunteers who are passionate about food, building community spaces and combating food insecurity on campus. With both Kennedy and Ghiglione graduating this year, Kennedy said the collective’s future will depend on student involvement.

“As the demand for free food increases, it’s more work, so we need a larger team to meet that demand,” Kennedy said. “Come meet us, come listen to music and cook in the kitchen with us, and make a positive di erence.”

The Spinach Collective’s next free dinner event will be held on November 6th in the Art Nook. More information can be found on

the collective’s instagram at @spinach_collective.

Rent in ation skyrockets in Quebec

Rent inflation in the province has increased by 9.3 per cent, nearly double the 4.7 per cent increase seen in the rest of Canada, according to Statistics Canada. Cult MTL reports that the gap is largely driven by stricter rent caps being implemented in other provinces. A Desjardins economic study estimates that general inflation in Quebec will remain above the Canadian average until mid-2026.

La Tulipe to reopen following li ed injunction

On Oct. 31, the Quebec Superior Court li ed an injunction that had barred well-known Montreal music venue La Tulipe from making noise. e venue was forced to close its doors in October 2024 a er the injunction was issued a month prior. e court has now deemed the injunction “null and void” following amendments made in the municipal noise bylaw, which now exempts concert halls such as La Tulipe. La Tulipe has been battling noise complaint issues since 2016, according to the Montreal Gazette.

Quebec government extends bill banning religious symbols in schools

New legislation passed by the Quebec government seeks to expand on the province’s 2019 secularism law, which bans religious symbols for teachers, judges, police o cers and other gures of authority. According to CBC News Montreal, this new legislation now extends to everyone who interacts with students in schools, including psychologists, janitors, school volunteers and cafeteria workers. It also prohibits students from wearing any form of face covering.

e concerning rise of anti-immigration sentiment in Canada

Experts weigh in on what this could mean for multiculturalism in Canada

Sarah Housley sarahhousley__

Arecent poll by e Association for Canadian Studies found that 63 per cent of non-immigrant Canadians disagree with the statement “Canada needs new immigrants.”

Concordia University’s School of Community and Public A airs professor Chedly Belkhodja says that an anti-immigrant sentiment has been steadily growing in the country since the pandemic. According to him, this rise is best explained by globalization.

“We had a certain stability in the way the system was working in many societies,” Belkhodja said. “With globalization, a lot of things happened.”

One of the most noteworthy consequences of globalization, Belkhodja said, is higher rates of migration and mobility, especially to a country with lower birth rates and a shrinking workforce like Canada. e phenomenon also changed the way global social and economic systems work, such as companies resorting to o shoring.

“A lot of people felt they were losing from globalization,” Belkhodja said. “When you feel resentment, you tend to point the nger to certain people.”

A lot of this blame, he said, is being placed on immigrants, and people's frustrations have given populist politicians like Donald Trump the momentum they need to rise in popularity.

Belkhodja added that the rise of the Trump populist government in the U.S. has a ected how Canada responds to border security and immigration.

Due to Trump's threats to annex Canada, Belkhodja said that there have been demands for more border security in addition to the constant threat of tari s.

“[ e Liberal party] is presenting Canada as a country that is able to protect its border,” Belkhodja said. “ e government of Mark Carney is exing its muscle, I don’t know if they have a lot, but it’s exing its muscle to show that Canada has a stronger position on limiting immigration, on controlling the border.”

One of these so-called exes is Bill C-12. e bill pertains to what the federal government calls “the security of the Canadian border and the integrity of the Canadian immigration system.”

Bill C-12 is a response to backlash over Bill C-2, a bill that made it easier for refugees and migrants to be detained and deported without a fair process. Over 300 organizations, including the Canadian Civil Liberties Association, the Migrant Rights Network, and the Ligue des droits et libertés, called for the immediate withdrawal of Bill C-2 a er it was proposed in June.

According to Greenpeace, Bill C-2 allowed the federal government to “revoke the immigration permits of entire groups of people en masse based on [factors] like country of origin, without any ability for individuals to appeal.”

Still, some critics remain unimpressed with the reformed Bill C-12.

In an Amnesty International statement, Migrant Rights Network spokesperson Karen Cocq was quoted as saying that Bill C-12 will still “block refugee hearings, impose retroactive one-year bars, and grant ministers mass immigration status cancellation powers.”

In Montreal, the migrant justice network Solidarity Across Borders organized a “No One is Illegal” march on Oct. 19, which called for the withdrawal of Bill C-12.

David Liu, an immigrant from China who was in attendance, said he has personally noticed the rise in anti-immigration sentiment in the country.

“[In the past few years], random people just came up on the street screaming and shouting racial slurs against me,” Liu said. “ is happened one or two times.”

Liu, who has lived in Canada for a decade now, thinks it's important for people to take action.

“I feel like we are in a state of emergency for people to speak up and resist this right-wing [anti-immigration] movement,” Liu said.

Karin More, a Little Italy resident who also attended the protest, said she’s also noticed the shi .

“People I didn’t know were anti-immigrant, have come out as anti-immigrant in the last few years,” More said. “ e rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. e poor blame people who are even worse o than them.”

In recent years, new political parties such as the People’s Party of Canada have also played a role in perpetuating anti-immigrant narratives, according to Belkhodja.

Founded in 2018 by former Conservative Party member Maxime Bernier, this new party has campaigned for Canada to severely limit immigration. Bernier even said he would withdraw Canada from the UN's Global Compact for Migration if elected.

Meanwhile, a similar sentiment is being echoed in Quebec politics, Belkhodja explained.

“ e CAQ (Coalition Avenir Québec) has used immigration as a wedge issue in creating polarization, which is a strategy that we see in many countries,” Belkhodja said.

In recent years, François Legault’s government has blamed the housing crisis on temporary immigrants, said that a hike in immigration would be “suicidal” for Quebec, and slashed the number of family reuni cation applications the government processes.

Additionally, in 2022, Legault publicly opposed multiculturalism, saying that it is important not to “put all cultures on the same level.” Instead, he said he prefers to focus on “interculturalism” and integrating newcomers into “the Quebec culture.”

According to Belkhodja, Legault’s strong position on identity can lead people to believe there’s a problem with immigration in Quebec.

“[ is position] also gave the impression that there was a problem in Quebec, and it was mostly an immigration problem and immigration from countries where Islam is the religion,” Belkhodja said.

e Association for Canadian Studies poll found that 60 per cent of Quebecers agree that immigrants should give up their customs and traditions in favour of the ma-

jority, the highest rate out of all provinces.

Belkhodja added that it is important to view this statistic in the context of the Canadian Multiculturalism Act. e act emphasizes that the fundamental characteristic of Canadian identity is cultural diversity, and that Canadians should have the opportunity to both preserve and share their cultural heritage.

“Multiculturalism is seen as a model that de nes the Canadian identity,” Belkhodja said.

He said that, recently, many Canadians are reacting negatively to the idea of open immigration laws due to a false idea that, in the context of access to housing, healthcare and education, for example, too many immigrants are causing the system to be at capacity.

However, according to the Refugee Centre, immigrants are being disproportionately blamed for the housing crisis despite making up less than a quarter of Canada's population. In reality, a lack of a ordable units, stagnant wages and an increase in short-term rentals are important contributing factors to the housing crisis.

According to Belkhodja, the federal government’s approach di ers from Quebec’s, where the CAQ is limiting the number of immigrants, but also voicing concerns that the immigrants are “not buying into Quebec society.”

“We have a government who wants to legislate in certain elds such as secularism, [...] that creates these tensions,” Belkhodja said.

In 2019, the CAQ government passed Bill 21, a law on secularism that bans people working as teachers, lawyers, police o cers and more from wearing religious symbols. ese include but are not limited to crosses, hijabs, turbans and yarmulkes. Since its adoption, the bill has received steady backlash from religious advocacy groups, teachers and other politicians.

Belkhodja also said the media can intensify the negative narrative surrounding immigration. According to him, certain popular media outlets put wood to the re, focusing on exaggerated stories that perpetuate a narrative of incompatibility between immigrants and those born in Canada. In turn, he added, this creates debate and polarization.

“When you go in the neighbourhoods, when you go on the ground [...] you realize people live together,” Belkhodja said. “[Immigrants to Quebec] want to have a decent life for themselves and their kids [...] we hear positive stories, we need to hear them more.”

Shi ing who gets a Say in Art

Les Impostures podcast gives emerging feminist voices

space to be heard in their own words

Selena Ruiz

Impostor syndrome can hit just about anyone at any time in their creative journey.

Even when careers and connections take off, the feeling of uneasiness can take a while to melt away. It can feel almost as if we don’t recognize our successes and live in a parallel universe where our work should not be celebrated.

But what if we could transform that uneasiness into art itself?

Since launching Les Impostures in 2021, Concordia University graduate student in art history and lm studies Sidonie Gaulin has highlighted emerging feminist and multidisciplinary artists from diverse cultural backgrounds on her podcast.

She invites writers, storytellers, visual artists and musicians to share their cra in an alternative interview-style format, one where the guest holds the upper hand.

Although Gaulin does not consider herself an artist per

Martineau, who goes by the name Myriame El Yamani in the art field, is a French-Moroccan author and storyteller. After what first began as a temporary stay in Canada, El Yamani helped create the Festival internationale du conte et de la parole en Acadie and directed the Maison internationale du conte de Montréal from 2006 to 2012.

She inspired Gaulin to pursue the project and made an appearance in the rst episode of Les Impostures’ h season, where she discussed her art and arrival in Eastern Canada. El Yamani was also a featured guest at Les Impostures’ h season launch event held on Sept. 17 at the La Cenne creative centre in Montreal.

“We were around 70 people, for over an hour and a half, collectively listening to an artist’s full journey, not just as a creator but as a person,” El Yamani said. “ e stories, the experiences, the arts. No interruptions or distractions. It was truly inspiring.”

show has become especially valuable for research, editing and social media management.

“I’m really grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given to develop as a creator here at Les Impostures,” Bidal-Pouliot shared.

While Gaulin hopes her work reaches new audiences, she doesn’t see visibility as the ultimate goal. For her, the project’s value lies in the act of creation itself. By giving space to artists who might not otherwise have a voice, she aims to foster meaningful and open discussions, which she says are rarely found in traditional French-Canadian media.

She notes, however, that diversity and representation are gradually improving in organizations such as Radio-Canada.

“Representation is important for our marginalized artists, and with traditional media, those voices o en end up mu ed,” Gaulin said. “Les Impostures gives them a space for a proper, uninterrupted dialogue.”

se, she has built an impressive collection of lm and documentary works over the years. is includes co-founding Les éditions du Drame in 2022 alongside artists Michèle Barcena-Sougavinski and Jade Bressan, which positions itself as a micro publishing house "dedicated to the promotion of emerging literature through thoughtful encounters.”

“I think it's super important to give opportunities to artists to share and discuss what they do without being interrupted,” Gaulin said. “So many times, we are asked what we do, and we reduce our works to just a few sentences, only going on the surface level of our art.”

Gaulin credits her former sociology professor at the Université du Québec à Montréal, Myriame Martineau, for inspiring this reflection during a course on feminism and gender dynamics.

“Women, in all spheres of life, are constantly reducing their accomplishments, especially when it comes to artistic projects,” Martineau said. “It's a continuation of societal habits of women taking the least amount of space in conversations and over-apologizing for no reason.”

Gaulin considers her podcast a form of sound documentary, rich with sonic elements throughout its episodes. A nature lover at heart, she pairs each guest with a natural element—earth, wind, re or water—which in uences a personalized sound piece composed by di erent musicians for every episode.

ese compositions blend archival recordings, ambient noises and music to create a space for contemplation and listening within the guest’s world.

In her past work, she asked guests to choose songs that best represented their practice or that they enjoyed at the time. For Gaulin, however, these pieces could never quite re ect what the interviewee truly created.

“I always thought it kind of missed the point, which is why we started having unique pieces made for our guests,” Gaulin said. “ e experience is more curated to the artist’s work.”

For Laurence Bidal-Pouliot, who works as a production assistant on Les Impostures and is a documentarist herself, the

Although funding for the project proves challenging, as it does not run on advertisements and was originally created as a school project, Les Impostures has also benefited from many governmental grants over the years. It has also recently obtained funding from the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec and the Canada Council for the Arts.

However, as the podcast still needs to strengthen its social media promotion and expand its listenership to guarantee reinvestment, the future of seasons six and seven remains uncertain.

Gaulin admits that independent projects like hers o en rely on passion over pro t, and sustaining them long-term requires both creative persistence and community support.

With its growing reach and thoughtful format, Les Impostures continues to carve out a place for underrepresented artists in Montreal’s cultural landscape. Each episode opens the door to a different creative universe, one that encourages listeners to pause, reflect and appreciate the process behind the art as much as the final result.

Now in its fifth season, as it enters a new chapter, Les Impostures stands as both a platform and a reminder that art thrives where empathy and curiosity meet. The podcast is available on CHOQ.ca and Apple Podcasts, inviting listeners to tune in, slow down and discover the many voices shaping both local and international art scenes.

MYRIAM EL YAMANI (LEFT), SIDONIE GAULIN, AND LAURENCE BIDAL-POULIOT AT THE FIFTH-SEASON LAUNCH OF LES IMPOSTURES. COURTESY JEAN-PIERRE BRONSARD

LES

Messages from Mrs Miriam

I would consider myself happy if, I could only get that sliver of hope, if I could ride that wave crusading on to a better life, a better mind, a newer way of thinking, of being, of desire, communicating, leave alone loving, rather cohabitating.

I would reckon myself satis ed if my mind could be *sparked* in likeness with my *heart* and my body, if the liminal space around me could be lled slowly but rapidly with hearts and spirits surviving o of sheer will and desperation. hawk r

Should love watch me like a e e

I will p right back daring it to try me once more. If love sees it t to knock me down a F E w,

I shall use what I've got to build myself up and stand side by side with it.

I say truly that love has wounded me once more and in that wounding my esh burns with heat and passion.

My heart is lled with colour and light. My immediate senses have taken a back seat and given up on struggling to perceive.

Rather the tingling that overtakes my body, and the re that shakes me out of my stupor, takes command from the p u l l in my gut that cries knowing there is no happiness without and there is no joy without . Pain

Vallerey Akinyi Ogweno

ese are the things that now direct me when my ears shut themselves in disbelief, my eyes beg not to see, and my hands ball up until they bleed. is is what gives me new hope; this is where understanding is derived. As I write these messages in the back of the classroom, trying so very hard to hold on, know that as soon as I stand, I'll start running and I'll never stop, not away but towards as my mind races, I’ll run on, as my black skin turns red, I’ll run on, as my pockets dry, I’ll run on, as those who love me leave me I'll run on.

And as the only person who’ll ever know me sits beside me, unable to see me turns their head in rebellion and shame as I look back and see the young child who speaks to the child within unable to recognize the love that races and b c between o e u n s

My God, I'll run on for the knowledge that it exists.

at love chose me today, convicted my feet and my heart, told me to run for miles just so I could come back and sit in the back of the classroom and tell you to hold on to your desks, cover your ears, close your eyes, and nd it within yourself to survive.

For where we are headed, all you’ll need is the drum buried inside your chest.

deep

e rise of women’s hockey

More young girls are hitting the ice

this season with new teams

and programs

Across Quebec, more girls are lacing up their skates than ever before.

Hockey Quebec announced on Oct. 11 that 37 new girls’ minor hockey teams have been added across the province. Fuelled by the Professional Women’s Hockey League (PWHL)’s rising visibility and new extracurricular school programs, these new teams mark one of the largest expansions for women’s hockey in years.

is marks a historic start to a season, not only because there are more teams, but also because three new minor hockey associations were created. Hockey Quebec stated that it is the rst time that multiple associations now have more than one team per level.

e rise in women’s hockey is being seen throughout all levels, including university.

Jessymaude Drapeau, captain of the Concordia University Stingers women’s team, has seen the increase in visibility and support.

“ ere’s a sense of momentum where people are talking about women’s hockey, and the community feels stronger and more connected than ever,” Drapeau says. “Games are being streamed and televised more o en, there’s more social media coverage, and younger girls are getting involved earlier.”

Drapeau also coaches at a youth level and can see the direct impact on young girls and their view of women’s hockey.

legitimate, well-structured league now exists where the best female players can make a career out of the sport.

“It’s de nitely increased motivation for people around me, myself and a lot of my teammates,” Drapeau says. “We see women who were in our position not long ago now playing on big stages, getting paid and inspiring a new generation.”

From local rinks to professional arenas, the momentum behind women’s hockey continues to grow. The addition of 37 minor-league teams this year, the community connection of the PWHL and the projects from the RSEQ seem to be leaving their mark on many young girls’ dreams by making them a reality.

e PWHL has played a big part in these rising numbers.

“Increased professional women’s hockey visibility leads to more ‘If you can see it, you can be it’ moments for young girls, allowing them to dream big and stay in the game,” says Kristen Richards, director of player development and grassroots growth for the PWHL.

Richards added that both Hockey Canada and USA Hockey had seen signi cant increases in girls’ registrations. In Canada, women’s and girls’ hockey has grown about 30 per cent and continues to surge since 2022.

e PWHL has launched several initiatives to help grow the sport.

connect with mentor

“One of our big initiatives is to connect with minor hockey associations and mentor the next generation of athletes and fans,” Richards says. “Accessibility and inclusivity are central to everything we do.”

Hockey Quebec’s statement comes at a time when even the Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec (RSEQ) is making changes.

The league, a non-profit organization that manages and promotes extracurricular activities for primary and secondary schools across the province, has also noticed the rising interest in girls’ hockey.

“To adapt to the growing interest in girls' hockey, we’ve joined the RSEQ project and are helping create the rst high school-level girls hockey league in Quebec, which is set to launch as of next year,” says Laurie St-Hilaire, a coach at Académie Saint-Louis.

“One time I came to the rink and a little girl went to a PWHL game the night before and got a puck from [Erin] Ambrose, and it was the rst thing she told me the morning of our game,” Drapeau says. “ ey talk with stars in their eyes because they have access to their role models.”

For university players themselves, there is also an added goal when it comes to hockey. With the addition of the PWHL, a

St-Hilaire is also a member of the Laboratoire de recherche pour la progression des femmes+ dans les sports au Québec at Laval University.

“Being able to imagine a real career in hockey can only encourage young girls to keep playing at higher levels,” St-Hilaire said. “A few years ago, many would have stopped playing a er the college level, but now they can see a future in the sport.”

A season to be proud of for Concordia ag football

Despite a tough championship game

a perennial contender

Samuel Kayll

Marisa Filice @sdubk24 @filicephoto

Alexis Labonté remembers a time when Concordia University’s ag football team didn’t even have ag football players. e h-year head coach re ected on the program’s evolution a er the nal Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec (RSEQ) tournament at CEPSUM on Oct. 25.

“We started with soccer players, rugby players, whatever kind of athletes that we built into ag football players,” Labonté said postgame. e Stingers lost a heartbreaking championship game 40-27 against the Université de Montréal Carabins.

It was a tough pill to swallow for the Stingers, who failed to defend their 2024 RSEQ title. But Labonté still viewed the season as a success, for both the present and the years to come.

“I'm really, really proud,” Labonté said. “ is is the objective we had in mind, to come to the nals and win it. I’m really proud. e girls worked hard even though we came up short.”

loss, the Stingers laid the groundwork for

For the Stingers and the RSEQ as a whole, the year marked a major step forward in growing the sport of ag football. In its rst year as an o cial league sport, Concordia nished second to the Carabins in both the regular season and the championship.

But visibility around ag football, bolstered by Team Canada’s strong showing at the 2025 International Federation of American Football (IFAF) Flag Football World Championships, has skyrocketed, providing hope that its appeal can nd a steady base.

As ag football ourishes on the international stage, the sport sees new stars enter the spotlight. Labonté discussed the immense talent on both sides of the RSEQ title game.

“[Concordia and Montréal] have players from Team Canada on both sides, so we’re two great teams,” Labonté said. “When there's a lot of talent, it's a question of details. It can go both ways.”

One of those Team Canada players is Stingers quarterback

Sara Parker. e h-year gunslinger has played with the program since its inception, helping capture the RSEQ title in 2024. She also competes for the Subzero ag football team and the Canadian national team.

Parker celebrated the team’s youth as a re ection of its growth and potential. She highlighted her excitement about the future of Concordia ag football and its sustainability.

“We had a lot of rookies on the team. A lot of them even started. So I think that it shows a lot of depth on our roster, the fact that we have some rookies coming in that are challenging our vets,” Parker said. “We're proud to see how much they've overcome in one season.”

Caroline Moquin-Joubert plays with Parker at Concordia and for Subzero and Team Canada. e pair won an IFAF silver medal together this summer. e receiver and defensive back re ected

PWHL

PHOTO BY MARISA FILICE @FILICEPHOTO

on ag football’s meteoric rise across the province, with the RSEQ reaching varsity status a er just four total seasons.

“I don't think any sports came out and got established in three years, so it's amazing how fast the sport is growing and how people are moving fast to have bigger leagues, have bigger events,” Moquin-Joubert said. “Every year, I'm amazed.”

Labonté showered his stars with praise, applauding them as building blocks for a Concordia program that has built itself from the ground up in its rst years of existence.

“I'm really lucky to have had both of them for ve years. ey've been amazing,” Labonté said. “ ey've been leaders for the coaches, for the players. ey also helped build the program. Without them, I'm not sure we're that good and we're still there in the nals.”

A er her nal university match, Parker made sure to celebrate

her teammate and go-to receiver.

“Caro and I have been playing together for quite some time,” Parker said. “We’ve built incredible chemistry, but also a very strong friendship. She's always a trusty target, and I'm looking forward to continuing my ag career with her.”

As the team’s foundational pieces ride o into the sunset, Labonté looks to build the team towards the future. He believes the groundwork has been laid for sustained success, built by the program’s early stars and solidi ed by its rapid rise.

“Rookies from everywhere want to come to Concordia,” Labonté said. “ ey want to play with us, and they want to have success with us. So the success we’re having is by building a community with the team, and it won't stop. It's just the beginning, and I'm really proud of it.”

is town is big enough for the two of us!

Why

Montreal is ready for another team to share the spotlight with the Montreal Canadiens

Trent Deschamps-Coinner

As a Montrealer who watched the Toronto Blue Jays’ magical run to the World Series, I nd myself thinking back to 2019 when Kawhi Leonard and the Toronto Raptors went on a historic run and won their rst-ever championship.

It was Canada’s rst championship in one of the Big Four sports leagues (NHL, NBA, NFL, MLB) since 1993, when both the Montreal Canadiens and the Blue Jays won their respective titles.

With the Raptors, I was thrilled to see a Canadian team achieve the pinnacle of its sport within a league dominated by American franchises. While I would have felt the same if the Jays had gone on to win the World Series—especially with U.S. President Donald Trump's incessant remarks towards Canada being a future 51st state—there is a bittersweetness that comes with Toronto’s success.

Most obviously, it hurts to see the success reversed for Montreal’s rival city. But more than that, when we see Toronto thriving across multiple leagues, many Montrealers are reminded that we once had multiple Big Four sports franchises in our city as well. I’m referring, of course, to the Montreal Expos, who recently returned to the spotlight with the release of Jean-François Poisson’s documentary Who Killed the Montreal Expos?

Despite the name of the lm, the answers surrounding the demise of the Expos solve a question of what happened rather than who was responsible.

While gures like “de facto president” David Samson and executives like Claude Brochu receive their fair share of blame, plenty of Big Four teams have had long periods of poor ownership and management without relocating.

Another suspect in the “killing” of the Expos was former premier Lucien Bouchard, whose provincial government refused to use public funds to build a desperately needed new stadium. e stadium itself was another huge factor in the team’s decline. To put it mildly, it was not built to withstand the trials and tribulations of a busy MLB season.

Furthermore, the documentary mentioned the all-toocommon challenge of being a Canadian sports franchise in an American league fatally manifest in the Expos’ exchange rate. As with the Quebec Nordiques, the nancial strain of earning revenue in CAD while paying players in USD placed an immense strain on the team.

Another nal blow came in the a ermath of the 1994 MLB players’ strike. e Expos were performing well that season before the strike began, but a er it ended, Brochu sold the team's talent for pennies on the dollar. Interest in the team declined sharply, and the Expos eventually relocated to Washington, D.C. at being said, I argue that Montreal is ready for another Big Four sports team, despite the unlikely return of the Expos.

One reason is the immense historical success of the Montreal Canadiens, which has fostered a deeply passionate sports fanbase in Montreal. Fans from other cities begrudgingly admit that the Bell Centre hosts some of the loudest fans of the Big Four franchises, and I’m sure nobody needs a reminder of the scenes that downtown Montreal saw during our unlikely Stanley Cup Finals run in 2021.

Furthermore, we already have longstanding rivalries with cit-

ies like Boston and Toronto that would naturally carry over from the NHL. While we fans love a good rivalry, sports executives love them even more as a sure- re way to generate interest and revenue.

While I would love to see the Expos return, an NBA franchise would be the most likely option, as the league is currently the most eager to expand.

Typically, the cities that get thrown around are Seattle, Las Vegas or Mexico City. But it is worth noting that while Mexico City has over 12 million residents, Montreal boasts a larger population than both Seattle and Las Vegas, suggesting a potentially stronger TV market for prospective owners.

Montreal has also seen a growing NBA presence recently, along with Canada as a whole. Two players from Montreal featured in last year's NBA Finals between the Oklahoma City under, who had Luguentz Dort, and my beloved Indiana Pacers with Bennedict Mathurin.

Additionally, the NBA is the most internationally popular of the Big Four sports leagues. In fact, an American hasn’t even won MVP since the 2017-18 season. As a diverse cosmopolitan city, Montreal would slot in perfectly to the modern international NBA landscape.

Overall, the death of the Montreal Expos le wounds in this city that have yet to heal, and their return, however unlikely, would be immensely appreciated by countless superfans. However, if the city were to receive a long-overdue second Big Four sports franchise, an NBA expansion team would be the most likely possibility and one that prospective owners should see a clear upside in.

SARA PARKER QUARTERBACKED

How sweaters and socks shaped the life of Concordia’s newest hockey star

Ekaterina Pelowich reflects on the unexpected road that brought her to Montreal

Samuel Kayll @sdubk24

If you’re wondering why the Concordia University women’s hockey team brought in Ekaterina Pelowich over the summer, look no further than the team’s rst game of the 2025-26 season against the Université de Montréal.

Down 2-0 with 32 seconds le in the rst period, the Stingers prepared for a face-o in the Carabins’ zone, needing a spark to send them to the locker room. As the puck dropped, Pelowich drew her defender into the slot, creating a chance for teammate Angélie Jobin. And when Jobin’s shot de ected o goaltender Maude Desroches, there was Pelowich, who nished blocker-side for Concordia’s rst goal of the season.

In a game the Stingers eventually won, Pelowich’s composure and tenacity shone through. But that’s nothing new for the veteran forward, whose work ethic and leadership have already made an impression.

“You can see her hard work shows up on the people around her,” said Stingers captain Jessymaude Drapeau. “When she goes on the ice [...] I want to give my everything because she was on the ice before and she led by example.” at hard work led Pelowich to Montreal and the chance to chase a national title. And she’s never lost the love for the sport that shaped her.

From Stou ville to St. omas University

Growing up in Stou ville, Ontario, Pelowich—or Katia, as her teammates know her—started skating at two years old. When her older brother picked up hockey, she followed soon a er.

“[I was always] looking up to my older siblings and wanting to be like them,” Pelowich said. “I was in gure skating too, but my parents always had me in hockey skates.”

Pelowich’s passion was instant. “My mom always talks about how she never had to wake me up. I was always ready for hockey,” she said. “School might be another story, but I was always ready for practices, games, workouts, all of that.”

Still, balancing academics and athletics proved challenging. She recounted her Grade 11 year and seeing teammates pulled out of the locker room a er games, talking to coaches and scouts.

“I saw that you truly have to be a student athlete,” Pelowich said. “I don't think I would go back and change any of that because that was a valuable lesson, but now being in university, I know that I never would want my academics to come in the way of my athletics.”

At the time, the year marked a step back in Pelowich’s career. A self-described homebody, she searched for a chance to remain close. But despite o ers from youth teams and Division III, none of the options felt right.

en, Erin Arsenault, her former junior hockey teammate, suggested Pelowich reach out to Peter Murphy, the head coach at St. omas University (STU). At rst, Pelowich refused; the trek from Ontario seemed too far. But Arsenault reached out again a few months later, and within a week, Pelowich was on a plane to New Brunswick.

ere, Pelowich found her home. Her parents had joined her on tours with her youth teams, and while her teammates collected sweaters from the schools they visited, her parents always refused. However, on the trip to STU, her mom asked her if she wanted a sweater. For Pelowich, it was the sign she needed.

“I know it seems like a little thing, but it was a huge moment for me,” Pelowich said. “I was like, ‘Wow, she’s feeling what I'm feeling here.’ I loved that tight-knit community, and it was my home. I wouldn't trade it for anything.”

In Pelowich’s ve years at STU, the Tommies consistently competed but never broke through to the national tournament. Pelowich became team captain ahead of the 2023-24 season, but her two years wearing the “C” ended in heartbreaking semi nal losses to Saint Francis University.

Still, Pelowich’s quality as a player was undeniable. In her nal season at STU, she received a call-up to the Canadian national team to compete at the Fédération internationale du sport universitaire (FISU) Winter University Games. ere, she met the player who would point her towards Concordia and a shot at glory.

Concordia’s emergence

Concordia goaltender Jordyn Verbeek met Pelowich on the rst day of Team Canada’s stay in Turin, Italy. e pair spent the next two weeks together as roommates for the trip, and Verbeek immediately gravitated towards Pelowich’s e ort and passion.

“On the ice, she was one of the hardest working players I've seen,” Verbeek said. “If she dumped the puck in and she was getting back to the bench, she was always skating hard. I saw right away how much she cared.”

At the time, Pelowich didn’t consider transferring, even informing Murphy of her plans to return. However, a er graduating with a Bachelor of Arts and Education, Pelowich decided to pursue a new challenge. She reached out to Verbeek, who quickly saw her as the perfect t for the Stingers culture.

“I explained how I felt she t into that culture and answered any questions that she had in making this decision,” Verbeek said. “I think it's important that she knew that she was welcomed here.”

Drapeau met Pelowich during August training camp. She recognized the fast connection between Pelowich and her new teammates.

“When you play for ve years with a university, and then you

change for your last year, it can be confusing to learn all the systems and 23 new players,” Drapeau said. “But it didn't take long until she found her place.”

With key losses across the lineup, Pelowich immediately stepped into a key role. Her rst-period goal against the Carabins showed she belonged.

“She comes in as a rst-year, but she's not really a rst-year,” Drapeau said. “We have older players, but I think last year we were missing a Katia.”

Eyes on the championship

For a Stingers team that nished fourth in the nation in 202425, expectations are clear. Concordia doesn’t just want an RSEQ title. It wants another U Sports ring.

“ e last time I played for something was at FISU, but before that, I can't remember,” Pelowich said. “I have that drive, and I really want to get there.”

Verbeek sees that drive in Pelowich every time they train.

“She's always elevating her game and elevating her teammates by pushing them,” Verbeek said. “When we step out on the ice, we know that [...] we're there to push for a national championship. And she's a huge part of setting that tone each day.”

As she settled in, Drapeau began to see the personality behind Pelowich’s steadfast commitment.

“We’re starting to see her real personality. Sometimes she just starts dancing in the locker room,” Drapeau said. “Yes, she’s serious, but she's a player that's always smiling, always ready to help others and a great teammate.”

Even Pelowich’s superstitions have a fun side. e proud owner of a large collection of socks, she wears a di erent pair each game of the season. e catch: the design can't have the colours of the opposing team or represent them in any way.

“Whatever mood I'm feeling decides the socks that I'll choose,” Pelowich said, laughing. “But once I wear those socks for that game, they can't be worn until the next season.”

For the chance at national glory, Pelowich won’t leave anything up to chance. As she chases national glory in her nal year, she knows exactly what’s at stake.

“You have to pave your own way,” Pelowich said. “It's my last year, and I want to look back on it and know that I gave it my all.”

And if her rst game at Concordia proved anything, Pelowich knows she’ll have to give it her all, and then some, for her new team and the sport she’s cherished her entire life.

“It's just a love that's carried, and there's always ups and downs,” Pelowich said, “but hockey has just been something that I've never stopped loving.”

WITH FOUR POINTS IN HER FIRST FOUR GAMES, EKATERINA PELOWICH HAS ALREADY PUT HER STAMP ON THE CONCORDIA WOMEN'S HOCKEY PROGRAM.

PHOTO BY MARISA FILICE @FILICEPHOTO

Human lives aren’t political

Empathy shouldn’t depend on who you vote for

Raven Angeli

So, at what point exactly do you stop seeing human lives politically?

Is it when you hear that a country is being attacked and civilians are dying? Is it when you hear of a 5-year-old girl being red upon 335 times? Or is it when an ambulance has been bombed? Or how about a hospital being obliterated?

at’s the question haunting me as people have no hesitation to say, “Oh, I’m not getting involved” when talking about Filastīn. When I talk about Palestine, I’m not talking about who the land belongs to, or who was there rst, or which side of the political spectrum you’re on. I’m talking about innocent civilians who are treated as collateral damage due to governmental greed.

ere is no reason to be indi erent to the fact that human beings should not be killed. Do you feel less guilty for your inaction when you ignore them? Does it reassure your ignorant belief that “there’s nothing you can do”? It’s easy for you to say you don’t have an opinion when the bombs aren’t dropping on you.

Far-left, centrist, far-right; they’re dividing labels that make us forget what they all have in common: Humanity. If attempting to be right on a certain statement about land equates to being neutral about people dying, that is proof that your moral compass is compromised. Taking a political stance doesn’t cancel out taking a human stance. If you can defend the dividing line of politics and humanity, you have been stripped of your empathy and compassion.

Most of us have the privilege of not worrying about having only minutes to flee our apartment building before a drone air strike. Relish in the fact that you walk to school or take the bus to work without accidentally passing into a “kill zone” and being met with bullets.

Displacement, starvation and death have taken over Gaza, leading civilians to a manmade Phase 5 famine. Bor-

Substack’s

ders closed, hospitals bombed, medical workers targeted while caring for patients and digging bodies from under the rubble. Is this enough for you to unblur the line between politics and humanity?

e world’s dehumanizing language, its minimizing of Israel’s ongoing assault, shows people’s alliance with the silencing of the Palestinians. e media use words like “war” and “Israel-Hamas con ict” instead of labelling it as a genocide. Ethnic cleansing. ere is hypocrisy in expressing outrage and providing funding for Ukraine while being comfortable turning a blind eye to the loss of Palestinian lives. e same world that teaches us about diplomacy and human rights forgets those standards when the victims aren’t inconvenient.

e demonization of Palestinians as a whole because of Oct. 7, 2023, has fuelled the global support for the immoral rampage of a state, neglecting that Palestinians have su ered for decades under the Israeli occupation.

e Western world labels them “barbarians” and “savages” for resisting the occupation and siege placed upon them, while actively funding and supporting the occupying force in control. ere exists televised evidence, testimonials from Israel Defense Forces soldiers in courts and on social media, and testimonials from Palestinian and international doctors exposing the truth of Israel’s famine. Yet the world denied their pain and reality.

Do you still have it in you to say it’s complicated?

Acknowledging carnage doesn’t mean going above and beyond to x what you’re not in control of. But ignoring it does mean you’re walking away from the morality that society fought and died to give you. Decisions say a lot about who we are, about what we care about and how we see the world.

Are you deciding to be OK with the su ering of other

broken promise

people if that means you being safe? Can you sleep at night knowing you’ve tucked in your brother or your daughter at night, while across the world, you’ve decided to forget the dead children and families under concrete?

I can’t call myself an activist if I stay silent about humans being deprived of their basic rights. Policies and how a country should be run do not matter more than innocent lives being taken. Your political stance should not get in the way of whether people should live or die. I don’t care about borders or parties. I care about people. Because when we start debating who has the right to live, we’ve lost our critical thinking.

So, I ask again: at what point do you stop seeing human lives politically?

Is this what it takes to remind us of where politics ends, and humanity begins?

How a platform for independence fell to the logic of the market

Andréas Fleury

For some, Substack carried a rare promise: to restore journalism's independence. Instead, it’s becoming a mirror of the very media landscape it set out to escape: driven by clicks, engagement and ultimately, pro t.

e recent acquisition of e Free Press, an ‘anti-woke,’ pro-Isreal media outlet launched on Substack, by Paramount for US$150 million symbolizes this tragic turn. e hope for a long-awaited journalistic revolution is becoming just another product of the solid economic system of the media.

Launched in 2017, Substack presented itself as an alternative to traditional media. It brought with it a simple promise: to allow anyone to publish their newsletter, without advertising or intermediaries, by addressing the reader directly.

is approach has seduced more than 50 million users, giving anyone the possibility to create or consume outside traditional editorial logic.

a subtle but signi cant shi . Substack’s algorithmic approach remains less opaque than platforms like X or Facebook, relying primarily on a chronological feed based on subscriptions.

However, the introduction of engagement mechanics—likes, restacks and recommendations—gradually pushed the platform toward the attention economy it once claimed to reject.

Already-established content creators benefit from greater visibility through these engagement signals, while newcomers struggle to emerge from the feed. The drift isn't about algorithm opacity in the traditional sense, but rather about the progressive adoption of social media mechanics that prioritize viral potential over sustained quality.

e economics of attention has taken the place of intellectual curiosity. From one perspective, Substack may still seem like a haven for genius minds, especially to someone coming from TikTok. From another, the platform has shi ed: what once promoted slow reading now encourages fast consumption and immediate reactions.

this drift. Relying on free or paid subscriptions to certain newsletters, the platform encourages writers to build loyalty among their readership. Of course, authors need to get paid, but in a media landscape where polarization remains so strong, this type of incentive only accentuates it. The more the content polarizes, the more it attracts. e acquisition of e Free Press gives another stab wound to Substack.

Bari Weiss, a well-known former New York Times columnist, founded her own media platform, e Free Press, on Substack to emancipate herself from the traditional newsroom, claiming it was “hostile” to centrists. A few weeks ago, she was appointed editor-in-chief of CBS News, the type of institution she supposedly wanted to escape.

It is important to recognize, however, that Substack serves multiple purposes.

On one side, it represents a creative and literary space, where innovative personal, poetic or experimental writings are published. On the other side, it is an informational space that attracts independent journalists, analysts, political commentators and in uencers.

It’s the journalistic side, the independent reporting and commentary, that worries me most.

To put it brie y, the initial utopia of Substack hasn’t resisted the laws of the market.

Weiss still serves as CEO of e Free Press, which continues to exist as a separate entity under the aegis of Paramount. It underscores the tension between claiming independence and remaining under corporate control.

In 2023, the platform introduced Notes, a system of short posts meant to promote the discovery of new authors. is change marked

is technical dri comes accompanied by a form of moral blindness.

In January 2024, Substack found itself at the centre of a scandal over hosting Nazi newsletters. Facing widespread criticism, CEO Chris Best defended a non-interventionist stance, stating that “readers and writers are in command.”

In other words, everything is allowed as long as money is involved. Several wellknown figures, for example, Casey Newton of Platformer, left Substack in protest. This total free speech has become a mask for dangerous leniency toward disinformation and hatred. The economic system of Substack itself fuels

Beyond the Substack case, it’s the idea of a common public space that flies away. Each subscriber finances the journalist or influencer who shares his opinion, instead of the one who questions it. Fragmentation takes place, nicely accompanied by political polarization. But not everything is lost. e possibility for a truly independent journalistic approach still remains, though it requires revisiting the tools. It starts with establishing clear standards for those who claim to practice journalism, making algorithms less opaque and most importantly, putting in place some public or cooperative funding models.

Substack’s evolution is not an accident, but a symptom of a system where every innovation promises freedom before being absorbed by the logic of pro t. In such a system, platforms that aim to liberate speech end up reproducing the very dri they claim to ght.

Bare minimum or princess treatment?

Zoya Ramadan

Holding the door open: is that just polite, or the bare minimum? Flowers on a Wednesday: romantic, or a little over the top? Paying for dinner: a genuine gesture, or what anyone would do?

ese debates, circulating online, reveal wider ideas on gender norms, emotional expectations and how the internet has slowly started to transform modern relationships.

At rst glance, this trend, where TikTok users debate whether romantic gestures count as “princess treatment” or the “bare minimum,” seems harmless, even a little fun. It highlights dating standards and celebrates small gestures of a ection, yet these acts become increasingly performative.

Romantic moments that once belonged just to the couple are now on display for anyone to judge. We rate, analyze and score love like it’s a game. e more strangers weigh in, the more romance turns into a performance. And the less it feels real.

Even the terms themselves carry weight. “Princess treatment” evokes ideals of femininity that reinforce gendered stereotypes. For many women, this term signals a refusal to accept emotional scarcity and indi erence.

But it can also back re by unintentionally reinforcing traditional dynamics within relationships, suggesting that a ection must be earned through feminine performance rather than mutually given. Men are also cast as the sole providers of romance rather than equal participants, working with the very stereotypes that modern couples aim to challenge.

e term “bare minimum” reveals the normalization of low expectations within modern dating. We now celebrate basic acts of care—saying goodnight, opening the door, picking up the check—

as extraordinary. e phrase signals a culture where we treat decency and a ection as achievements rather than fundamentals of a healthy relationship.

You are not the problem; your clothes are The internet has reshaped our perception and expectations of romantic relationships

Chanelle Hutchinson @zoyaramadan

The last time you punched an extra hole in your belt, did you blame your body? Most of us do. We stab the leather with a pair of scissors and sigh at ourselves, never questioning why the clothes we buy were never meant to t us in the rst place.

Standardized sizing is a product of fast fashion that encourages the mass production of clothing with numbers or letters (like Size 2, M or XL) based on old body measurement surveys.

But the idea that everyone is supposed to have the same or even similar body shapes and sizes is unrealistic.

Our bodies aren't wrong or to blame for clothes not being attering or tting properly to someone else’s pattern. It’s a bene t for manufacturers to produce clothes quickly, cheaply and in limited sizing; it encourages consumers to buy more in search of their “perfect size.” ey pro t from our dissatisfaction with our bodies.

We deserve that feeling of euphoria when something ts just right, when a piece of clothing moves with your body instead of ghting against it.

Sewing, then, becomes a way to reclaim control over how clothes t your body, rather than squeezing (your body) into mass-produced molds.

Customization, tailoring and making your own clothes can x many of the issues surrounding t, and bring freedom and quality control to our daily wear.

Working with a sewing machine can be overwhelming because of all of the buttons, attachments and presser feet; it gets really confusing. But sewing is a lost art.

As dating culture becomes increasingly mediated by apps, these standards slowly erode, turning care and thoughtfulness into something to be earned, rather than simply given.

Both terms reveal an underlying cultural xation on quantifying love and a ection. Because social media encourages constant comparison, the quality of a relationship becomes determined through public engagement. In turn, intimacy becomes gami ed online, thus forcing couples to seek external validation regarding the quality of their relationship.

e desire to be perceived as someone who is loved begins to outweigh the experience of genuine love.

e trend also reveals a collective yearning to feel loved and secure. e questions, despite being posed jokingly, ask something about the current state of emotional availability. People

want to know the extent to which e ort still matters and whether or not it can exist without an audience.

Ultimately, the debate surrounding the “princess treatment or bare minimum” re ects insecurities that sit at the core of modern relationships, where individuals seek external validation and perform the act of love.

And yet, true intimacy remains in the quiet gestures— the acts of care that happen when nobody’s watching. It’s in these unseen moments that love proves itself, authentic and unperformative.

Sewing is a way to reclaim control over how clothes fit your body

Whether it’s adding pockets to a dress or simply hemming a pair of pants, it is not only an essential skill but a creative outlet. at little enhancement can be a form of resistance fashion, designing the clothes your body deserves, not the ones the market gives you.

As fast fashion seeps into thri stores, it becomes harder to nd non-synthetic fabrics that don’t irritate our bodies. We o en forget how comfortable, natural bres feel against our skin. Knowing how to protect your body from synthetic dyes and nishes can improve skin health. Your skin will thank you.

It’s time to get intimate with our bodies again. To know our measurements, our dips and our curves. We must familiarize ourselves with fabrics that won’t trap sweat and heat like a clingy ex (looking at you, polyester).

Sewing with either new or old fabrics allows you to recycle, upcycle, embellish anything you want, save money, and reduce waste. It forces you to slow down, have patience and be intentional in an era of fast fashion and endless trends.

If you’ve been thinking about sewing or wanting to sew, take this as your sign. Picture yourself at a sewing machine and think about the emotions it brings: Control? Relaxation? Creativity?

Discover the joy of nally feeling good in what you're wearing, because our bodies were never the problem; the system was.

Nothing screams democracy like a vote you can’t cast

Ata Concordia Student Union (CSU) special council meeting (SCM) on Oct. 29, councillors voted on whether to send seven di erent fee levy applications to ballot for the upcoming CSU by-elections from Nov. 11 to 13.

Two different fee-levy groups, Art Matters and the CSU Legal Information Clinic (LIC), were barred from reaching the ballot after failing to receive the required supermajority vote.

Council questioned both groups regarding their political a liation, with a councillor saying she voted against Art Matters’ increase due to the group’s support for the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement.

Some councillors questioned the LIC’s work in helping defend students involved in protesting the Gaza genocide. Even a er the group clari ed that it does not discriminate based on political opinion and must assist all students who seek its services, the council struck down its fee levy application.

The fee levy application process is meant to be solely administrative.

According to the CSU’s own Policy on Fee Levy Applications, councillors are only meant to verify the submission of appropriate documentation, to verify whether the group has followed its mandate, and to consider if the dra question “is factual and not prejudicial to the outcome.”

A er the LIC’s fee levy application was rejected, CSU legal representative Walter Chi-Yan Tom asked council to explain what part of the clinic’s application did not conform with the CSU bylaws. He did not receive an answer.

is process must remain nonpartisan. Students have already voted for these groups' right to exist and, as such, should have the right to vote on whether they want to grant them a fee levy increase or not.

Additionally, even if both fee levies went to ballot and a majority of students voted in favour of the increase, students would still have the ability to opt out of the Art Matters’ fee levy.

e Link rmly believes that the decision taken by the CSU council to bar these fee levies from going to ballot undermines student democracy and represents a blatant abuse of power.

Additionally, both the Fine Arts Student Alliance (FASA), which Art Matters is an a liate of, and the CSU have voted-in motions in support of BDS.

Is it truly democratic to deny a fee levy on the grounds that it supports a movement students have already voiced their support for?

Fee-levy groups are extremely important on campus, offering necessary services and opportunities to students. ey represent the heart of student life and, without them, the student experience would su er greatly.

Students fund these groups through fee levies collected from their tuition based on the number of credits they take. With the drop in enrolment as a result of the Coalition Avenir Québec government’s tuition hikes, paired with high inflation and the current cost-of-living crisis, these groups are struggling more than ever to make ends meet.

Under normal circumstances, refusing their applications would be bad enough. But especially in this context, when these organizations need increases to keep their heads above water, councillors should know to respect the policies governing fee levy applications, regardless of their biases.

Indeed, both Art Matters and the LIC shared with the council that they currently struggle to maintain operations, with Art

Matters speci cally sharing that it spent over four months and over $3,000 putting together its application package.

e Link is no stranger to the CSU’s questionable decisions when it comes to fee levy applications. During the 2024-25 academic year, we were denied from running in both the by-elections and the general elections due to claims that our annual report was outdated. is, as we refuted at the time, was incorrect.

e Link believes in the right of students to make their voices heard through their right to vote. Whether a feelevy group with a valid application package receives a fee levy increase should be le up to the students, not le to die on the oor of council.

Over the past year, e Link has reported on ongoing transparency issues at the CSU. While council meetings technically remain open to all students, the CSU website is out of date, with the most recent minutes dating back to July 2024.

Hence, it is certainly worth mentioning that without exterior reporting, those who cannot attend these council meetings have little to no way to stay up to date on all the latest CSU-related news.

e rejection of Art Matters and LIC from the ballot marks an ongoing lack of regard for student democracy and for students’ rights to make their voices heard.

e Link urges the CSU not to let councillors’ individual political biases supersede the union’s own policies.

Students have a right to know what happens behind the scenes of their student union and to make their own decisions about which services they wish to fund.

Most importantly, students deserve to have faith in their union’s democratic process and trust that policies will be followed no matter what.

Volume 46, Issue 5 Tuesday, November 4, 2025

Concordia University

Library Building, Room LB-717 1400 de Maisonneuve Blvd. W. Montreal, Quebec H3G 2V8

Editor: 514-848-2424 x. 7407

Arts: 514-848-2424 x. 5813

News: 514-848-2424 x. 8682

Business: 514-848-7406

Advertising: 514-848-7406

The Link is published twelve times during the academic year by The Link Publication Society Inc. Content is independent of the university and student associations (ECA, CASA, ASFA, FASA, CSU). Editorial policy is set by an elected board as provided for in The Link 's constitution. Any student is welcome to work on The Link and become a voting staff member. Material appearing in The Link may not be reproduced without prior written permision from The Link Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters 400 words or less will be printed, space permitting. The letters deadine is Friday at 4:00 p.m. The Link reserves the right to edit letters for clarity and length and refuse those deemed racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, libellous or otherwise contrary to The Link 's statement of principles.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS 2025-2026: Voting Members: Iness Rifay, Hannah Vogan, Alice Martin| Non-Voting Members: Maria Cholakova, Varda Nisar, Lory Saint-Fleur, Geneviève Sylvestre.

TYPESETTING by The Link PRINTING by Hebdo-Litho.

CONTRIBUTORS: Sean Richard, Chantal Bellefeuille, Kara Brulotte, Sarah Housley, Maria Cholakova, Selena Ruiz, Steven Gao, Vallerey Akinyi Ogweno, Trent Deschamps-Coinner, Marisa Filice, Andréas Fleury, Ravens Angeli, Zoya Ramadan, Chanelle Hutchinson, Mira de Koven, Kaz, Carmen Wile

House Ads: Naya Hachwa, Jared Lackman-Mincoff, Panos Michalakopoulos

Cover: Naya Hachwa, Myriam Ouazzani

Corrections for Volume 46, Issue 4: On p.14 in the article “Strength through sumo,” Agustin Gimenezʼs name was misspelled. The Link regrets this error.

GRAPHIC BY NAYA HACHWA @NAYAS.STUDIO