I grew up in a small Catholic town in rural Quebec. Being non-binary and neurodivergent, I tried to make myself invisible against the background of farmers and amongst my peers. But, no matter how hard I tried, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

An archive of memories and artifacts, a beautiful assemblage of a difficult history. Every object, sound, and written word was representative of intergenerational storytelling. With the opening show being sold out, I was lucky to have gotten there an hour early. I had just enough time to look through the glass enclosures filled with passports, letters, pictures, and a well loved doll before the room was too crowded. Seeing all of these things left me with a mixture of tender nostalgia and hurt.

The first warm day of spring. Birds, bees, and fresh air. I’ve been enjoying the shift in weather and energy, rediscovering the joy of sitting on my balcony in a tank top, of having my toes out in the sun, and of looking for reasons to leave the apartment. With the warmer weather, I feel the desire to explore Montreal’s cabaret nightlife. First one on the list, Candyass Cabaret at Cléo’s!

Here I was, going up to the seventh floor of Concordia’s JMSB building for the millionth time. Shared between the theater and dance departments, it is the creative gem of a serious building built for business students. Over the course of three years, I had become accustomed to that floor.