Just outside of Dawson, near the Warren G. Flowers Art Gallery, the air smells faintly of tobacco and Posca acrylic paint pens. Wooden tables and concrete benches, adorned with doodles of all sorts, welcome students from every program– from pretentious cinema and communications to agoraphobic health sciences. Even blank, boring walls and bathrooms become canvases, coming alive through poetry, motivational quotes and even political opinions.
The entire street is awash with people, each one completely different from the other, yet still united in a unique blend of emo, goth, preppy, boho, grunge, street, and Y2K. Chunky boots clack against the pavement, lace skirts are styled on top of baggy jeans, and headphones dangle like necklaces. Someone in a brown leather jacket is rolling a cigarette beside a girl with butterfly clips and thick eyeliner. A group of theatre students recite Hamilton lines, while literature students sit around a table, their tote bags bursting with annotated novels. The air has grown colder, and the smell of warm coffee is inherent.
When asked where on campus, more specifically, students encounter the most art, the answer seems crystal clear: the De Maisonneuve entrance. “There, you can notice lots of graffiti or writings, and everybody has very intricate clothing and even makeup,” says literature student Valentina Lipmann.
At the De Maisonneuve entrance, “you’ll never see a bad fit”, says her friend Nomi Withers, both seemingly having found their places within their program, judging by the way they waved at anyone who passed by. “I joined literature because I really like writing and reading, and just creating art, in general.” While Dawson is renowned for its demanding science programs, the two friends agree on one thing: the art scene at the Cégep is unlike any other.
“Compared to other schools my friends have described, even just in the way people dress or the way people act, there are lots more artsy people here who put in effort,” Valentina said, pointing out a student wearing a bright yellow shirt and a pink tie as a belt.
But, for these creative souls, that sense of aesthetic extends beyond fashion. According to Nomi, “Dawson’s such a safe space for artsy people. Just the way people dress and express themselves artistically makes other people feel like it’s a safe space for them to do so, as well. I just see art everywhere I go, and it’s so beautiful.” She also pointed out the intent behind these creations: “I’ve never seen a negative one, not gonna lie. I’ve only ever seen positive things written on walls – if not, people cross them out– but I find there’s a lot of little motivational positive quotes everywhere, or, like, political ones.”
That very morning, Valentina found one, herself, as she made her way to her locker, number 1413, on the first floor. “When I went to my locker, I noticed there was a fluorescent orange Post-it with ‘you make the world brighter’ written on it in blue ink, and with butterflies. Our lockers are blue, so it stood out really well.” For Dawson students, rather than being seen as straight-up vandalism, this form of art is a way of communicating with fellow students or simply expressing their feelings, preferences, and opinions.
It was beyond easy for me to find the culprits, the ones to blame for these inventive scribbles scattered around campus—all I had to do was step outside, exiting from the school’s second floor to De Maisonneuve Street, and climb a few stone steps still slick from the autumn drizzle. There, everyone is, in their own way, an artist. Some with sketchbooks, others with Sharpies or novels. Out of the six people I spoke with, four confessed to leaving their mark on campus infrastructure, whether it be a table, a wall, or the underside of a staircase.
Josh Bujold, a first-year psychology student, proudly voiced his love for expressing his emotions through art. His hands, still faintly smudged with ink, gestured as he spoke: “Whenever I get a pencil, I feel almost ‘drawn’—no pun intended—to drawing and doing all that stuff. It’s what I stand by, you know? I feel inspired to draw beautiful things. Like kitties, because I love cats.”
Across from him, his friend Emerick laughed softly. “I’ve drawn a lot of cats, too. And I’ve drawn a lot of flowers. I like flowers.”
Josh leaned back a little, smiling. “Me and Emerick really feel as though it’s a side gig, you know?”
They exchanged a knowing look. The quiet kind that passes between two friends who have spent way too many afternoons doodling through psychology lectures. The table beside them was cluttered with vintage thrifted bags, Tim Hortons coffee cups, and an “I love Boustan” graffiti in bright purple pen that stood out.
Somewhere between art and vandalism, upon every surface they can find, Dawson’s students make up their own gallery that no one officially curates, but everyone can add to.
