Student Lounge
Section editor: Siavash Rokhsari
"The Lesson"
The bronze statue, Montreal, Canada.
The Taste of Memory
By Kalinka Arboit , B.com Student
Some of my earliest memories are of cold mornings at my nonna’s house. Not to sound too theatrical, but the world seemed to move in harmony with nature. The air always carried the scent of something being made, like fresh bread rising or ripe peaches bubbling into jam on the stove. Nothing ever came from a store, everything came from the land, from my grandparents’ hands that knew that soil, and from traditions older than any of us.
My family grew their own fruits and vegetables, cured their meats, collected milk from their friendly cows, and even made cheese and sweets from what the different seasons offered. Every meal was what seemed to be a small miracle of patience and gratitude. Food was never just food to us, it was memory, love, and connection all at once.
Growing up in that world taught me that the bond between self and nature is not abstract or distant. It is tangible, edible, and shared at the table. Even now that they are gone, I can see them in every jar of jam or loaf of bread. There is a story of care, a reminder that what nourishes us begins long before it reaches our plates and stays with us long after those same plates are cleared.
I feel like today, surrounded by the convenience of instant meals and all the digital distractions, I often try to take a second to remember my nonna’s kitchen. It reminds me that slowness has its own charm and carries wisdom. To grow, make, and share food is to participate in something ancient, something that connects us not only to the earth but to each other.
Recently, I started paying more attention to how food connects generations, cultures, and worlds. It leads us to remember where we come from and to honour what sustains us. In this crazy age, almost entirely defined by speed and technology, perhaps the most radical thing we can do is to slow down, taste, and remember. Because I truly believe that in those small, handmade moments, we can rediscover what it means to be human.
Visual storytelling: Students mapping their journeys
Dr. Siavash Rokhsari, Assistant Professor
ACSS Department, University Canada West
From the first handprints on cave walls to the Instagram stories students scroll through during the lectures, the magic of visuals has always been our favorite way of sharing who we are.
Choose any of the drawings below. Click on them, and it will open doors to our students' life journeys through simple drawings!
Each line holds a story: sharp zigzags, sudden rises, deep drops, unexpected twists, moments of pride, regret, joy, loss, courage, and growth.
In my Visual Communication course, I asked students to illustrate the journey of their lives, to show how visuals can communicate what words sometimes cannot. You can try this yourself at home! It's safe and all you need is a pen and paper!
I invited the students to close their eyes and look back, as if glancing over their shoulder to see the path they have walked since childhood. When they opened their eyes, they drew one continuous lifeline from birth to today, marking key turning points along the way.
After some playful conversation and gentle interpretation of their lines, they were asked to mark at least six or seven memorable and sharable(!) moments of their lives on their life lines.
The creative rule was simple: they could not write anything. They could only show them by simple symbols they drew and it could be anything: a first driving lesson, a sibling’s birth, parents’ separation, a first romance, , the very first dollar they made in Canada, some childhood memories or even some sad memories if they wanted.
They then exchanged their drawings with a partner, who tried to guess the stories behind the symbols. The simplicity and ambiguity made the activity even more exciting, part puzzle, part mystery, part self-discovery.
Later, within their groups, they revealed the real meaning behind each mark, sharing what they carry in their “life backpacks.”
In our very next session, we extended the timeline. This time, they continued the lifeline into the future, from today to wherever they imagine themselves many years from now. We saw drawings of grandchildren, world travel, new careers, peaceful homes, and dreams still forming. Finally, they took their drawings back with them, a personal map to look back on someday.
It was after this little class activity that I became even more convinced: if you have a picture to show and a story to tell, that’s all you need in today’s world. A picture to show and a story to tell!
(Students provided informed consent for their drawings to be shared on this platform, with the assurance that their identities would remain confidential.)
