The hustle of student business owners

Student entrepreneurs show ambition and drive since their humble beginnings 

By Aliya Karimjee

After growing tired of hearing the people around him simply say they would follow their dream without committing to it, RJ Mijares, a third-year business management student at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU), persevered to show dreams can come true with hard work.  In February 2023, he created RJM and Co., a printing and embroidery business. 

Today’s status quo for young adults is to gain post-secondary education in order to secure a stable job or make career moves of their own, with nearly 58 per cent of working-age Canadians having post-secondary credentials. However, TMU students have taken it into their own hands  to use the skills they’ve acquired from their university programs to create their dream businesses on their own — without waiting for graduation day. 

Hoping to be a "young businessman who can prove himself in the real world," Mijares chose to apply the knowledge he has gained so far from his program and additional psychology electives to a real-life business. 

From his major, he has learned elements of a successful business alongside its technical aspects, such as operations, purchasing and supply management as well as general finance and accounting skills. 

Using his resources and connections, Mijares created his own brand, focusing on the human relationship between him and his customers.

“I really wanted to bring a sense of coolness to the manufacturer. Usually when you’re creating a product, you don’t really think about the actual person that’s behind the scenes making it. So I really wanted to create something where people are like, I want to be in a relationship with the person that’s making my products,” says Mijares. 

He believes fast fashion’s quality is incomparable to small businesses and he aims for his products to last longer than a year. In order to do so, Mijares keeps in close contact with his overseas distributors. 

Mijares wants to ensure his customers of the high quality and effort they receive in the products he manufactures. To provide transparency with his customers, Mijares posts photos of his business’s progress and reels of the process — in which he also includes failed attempts

Unlike many large-scale corporate businesses, which usually don't connect personally with their customers, Mijares decided to prioritize client connections in his work. He confirmed this is especially important since his business model depends on people wanting to create. 

Black hat with dog embroidery. 

Some examples of his holiday products include a custom-made hat for a couple in which the girlfriend drew a dog on a cap. (Courtesy of RJ Mijares)

The possibilities are endless. These types of gifts give a personal touch and allow storytelling through art.

He has also produced orders for school clubs, political movements and many other requests from his clients. 

Since he started his business, Mijares has planned his orders and schedules two to three weeks ahead of time, with an average of 30 orders a week. Initially, he struggled to get his business out there and know how to price point it for customers to be interested.

"I think the big problem when we first started was settling for low margins, settling for break-evens, and those hurt you [badly],” shares Mijares. “So I think that the hardest challenge was figuring out how to get price points for things." 

RJ Mijares holding a sweater for the Palestinian Cultural Club.

This green sweater is an example of one of Mijares’ products, this one for a Palestinian Cultural Club. (Courtesy of RJ Mijares)

Since then, he has learnt that reinvesting money is the best way to keep his business going. 

“It’s not about profit, it’s about having money left over to invest in the business,” explains Mijares. 

He has set goals for when he wants to innovate specific ideas. Within his classes, Mijares has learned that discounts aren't very feasible for small businesses. Instead, he believes in customer loyalty programs and is considering implementing such initiatives for continuous shoppers. 

Mijares’ future ideas involve playing a role in his customers’ holiday shopping and integrating his business into other schools. Thinking two seasons ahead to the summer, Mijares knows he will get the chance to participate in summer markets — a dream goal of his. 

Mijares isn’t alone in his bold business moves and ambitions. 

The entrepreneurial journey of TMU student Nazha Syriani 

Nazha Syriani, founder of Nazha’s Crafts, produces crochet goods such as pillows, hats, bags, bracelets or scrunchies. 

The third-year TMU fashion student’s creativity is inspired by political movements. 

Her crafts are influenced by her Palestinian and Newfoundland backgrounds and her previous knowledge of, and she incorporates fashion, which includes sewing, crocheting and designing. 

Initially, she was posting Instagram pictures of her crafts or proudly wearing them outside. 

A red, black, white and green Palestinian flag crochet keychain. 

Recently, she crocheted a Palestinian flag for herself; however, in support of her country, many people took an interest. (Courtesy of Nazha Syriani)

"I had the [Palestinian] flag as a keychain on my backpack, and one of my friends noticed it, loved it and asked to buy it from me,” Syriani says. “People want to show their support, so I started making more.”

On top of being a student five days a week, a dancer twice a week and a daughter to her family, she believes all her hard work in this business is worth it because for her, especially when she gets to see her clients' faces and think, “I created that expression.” She welcomes creativity and will produce any design her customers’ hearts wish. Simultaneously, she also has designs of her own.

In personal and professional projects, she always values sustainability. 

Everything Syriani makes is handmade, and whenever she can, she uses “upcycled material.” 

"Recently, one of the things that I had at the Christmas market was a tote bag I made,” shares Syriani. “The fabric from the strap was used from an old pair of jeans, and then the actual stuff was from Value Village." 

A blue tote bag with a blue jean strap. 

An example of Nazha Siryani’s work, a handmade bag made out of an old pair of jeans and some other stuff from Value Village (Courtesy of Nazha Siryani)

She explains that larger-scale companies you could easily buy from don’t share those same efforts. 

“The tag will say 5 per cent recyclable, but it’s only talking about the actual tag, not the garment itself,” says Syriani. 

She finds it very important for people to support local services to not only help small-business owners like her, but also keeping the environment in mind. 

Syriani adds that she, herself, supports small businesses. She remembers visiting the Eaton Centre in Toronto where a small market was taking place earlier in the year. Within the market, many small businesses had set up their own stands from which she “tried to buy items from almost each one.”

Understanding the struggles of being a small business and the market she's entering, Syriani’s putting in the change she wants to see.

Syriani is no stranger to small-business struggles, and “finding the balance between knowing how to price things and the cost of my time,” echoing Mijares’ personal obstacles as well.

As a fashion business student, she tries to solve this issue with the knowledge she learned in certain classes that went over concepts, including calculating the costs of labour and materials. 

She had to create a cost sheet in her design courses after sewing a pair of pants. 

"That helps me [to create] prices. Especially if I'm buying wool, I can't use the same price as what the wool cost; I have to price it as to how much I will use from that roll. So every little thing comes into place," says Syriani. 

All the touching moments make all her efforts in business worth it for her in the end. 

She recounts one of her most memorable moments: her first sale. Syriani’s high school friend saw the evil eye pillow she had crocheted and bought one for her sister. After that first sale, she followed up with the purchase of a Palestinian pillow. 

“When I sold [the evil eye pillow] for the first time, I took a picture of myself with my money envelope,” says Syriani. “It was a very special moment because I've never sold anything I've made before besides making it for others [as] gifts.” 

Syriani adds that the TMU community has been just as supportive of her. She says her design history teacher bought a little coin purse and ordered the big evil eye pillow.

To achieve her goal, Syriani plans to take the necessary steps to grow bigger and bigger. By crocheting, posting more, getting noticed and going to markets, she hopes to gain enough profit to move her company onto an online platform like Etsy. 

However, her ultimate goal is to be a fashion designer using her own name, as it’s also her Teta’s — grandmother in Arabic — name. She believes her name makes her unique, and it’s a part of who she is. 

"I am Palestinian and want to represent that part of myself,” says Syriani.  

In everything she does, especially in designing, Syriani tries to incorporate her mom’s Newfoundland culture and her dad’s Palestinian culture. 

“I'm not just Canadian. I'm not just Palestinian. I'm both, and they're both very important to me." 

A Love Letter to Cross-Cultural Connections

Sometimes,  home isn’t home, but the heart of another’s

By Melanie Nava Urribarri

You stand in your childhood kitchen. The soft murmurs of your mother tongue tickle your ears as you’re zoned out with the dim evening glow lighting up your peripheral vision. From the stove, familiar smells wrap you up in a warm comfort. You know this is home to you.

For some, such memories are further away than others, feeling more like dreams than a reality they once knew. For some, it goes more like this:

Standing in a dining room, looking at new faces blink with expectations and hearing different words spoken and passed around with uncommon smells overwhelming them. An anxiety pools in their belly, uncertainty rising and taking their breath.

Zoha Naghar, a third-year Pakistani university student at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU), recalled a similar story from when she was little. She went over to a friend's house and had been nervous to spend dinner there being Muslim and only eating halal food – food deemed permissible under Islamic law.

“I remember I mentioned it to [my friend] maybe at the beginning of the year, and her family asked me to stay for dinner. I said ‘No, I think I'll go home’, just because I don't want to make them uncomfortable.” Her friend was English and unfamiliar with her customs.

“But my friend then said ‘No actually, stay for dinner because we ordered halal food specifically for you,’ and that was weird [to me] because I've never actually felt acknowledged in that sense before,” Naghar said.

A single gesture, one reach of a hand, and everything can change. Unfamiliar places can almost feel as safe as home, and it can be as simple as sharing food and pieces of culture at new dinner tables. In the most innocent ways, this is the importance of cross-cultural communication: the support it can provide to generally isolated communities.

The intermixing of communities and cultures is a common occurrence in Toronto, a top multicultural city according to a BBC study, and it is especially true for the student communities at TMU. The cross-cultural exchanges are experiences students can find most meaningful as a variety of ethnic and cultural communities come together and find home in each other; recognize themselves in others. 

It is these stories that are just as important to tell, especially in times of need.

In the past month of October, Jana Alnajjar, president of the Palestinian Culture Club (PCC) at TMU, organized an initiative with the Afghan Student Association to fundraise for different causes – relief for the children of Gaza and for the people of Afghanistan affected by the most recent earthquake. Together, they raised $3,000, but the experience wasn’t just memorable because of its monetary success.

“When I saw everyone coming together, it made me realize that when it comes to humanity, there are no borders,” Alnajjar said. “It's an amazing, amazing feeling just knowing that there's always going to be people behind your back, even if they're not from the same country as you.”

Not long after the conjoined fundraiser, the PCC held an initiative called Keffiyeh Week. Alnajjar clearly remembered the wide variety of non-Palestinian people that were wearing the Keffiyeh (or kuffiyeh), a garment symbolizing solidarity against oppression now woven in the history of a people.

“They were taking the time out of the day to learn about it, and it was a moment at our school that basically brought everyone together, no matter your background or religion, ethnic background as well. What is key is understanding and listening.”

Noor El-Deen Murad, the PCC’s VP of marketing, stated that this sharing, understanding and listening is important in giving others the opportunity to get to know identities without the politicization of an identity.

“People will remember seeing the Palestinian foods, dances, vibrant culture, 10, 20, 30 years from now. [Sharing culture] leaves a lasting impact on people,” Murad said. “We care about humanity. [...] We will support any other club that does initiatives for humanity too.”

The American Psychological Association states that evidence links perceived loneliness and social isolation with depression. As a collective, we are always in the search of escaping loneliness and isolation, and in a land where the sun feels cold and the water currents don’t dance to the same stars of your culture, that can be difficult. It can be suffocating. Escape can not feel possible.

Perceived social isolation without knowing who could possibly understand is dangerous, according to studies. And communities play a large role in this perception.

“As the community's editor at The Eyeopener, if we have an event or an initiative like Keffiyeh Week, for example, I made sure we covered that because although it's not me actively participating in it, it's me bringing awareness to a broader scale,” said Bana Yirgalem, a fourth-year Eritrean student at TMU.

“I would want people to do the same for Eritrea,” Yirgalem added, describing how TMU has a diverse student body, and the importance for students to come to campus and see their cultures being represented in a positive light. Especially as students “tend to wish that the faculties at their programs had people that looked like them.”

Statistics Canada’s 2021 census reported over 450 ethnic or cultural origins in Canada, with immigrants (79.5 per cent) being much more likely than non-immigrants (47.6 per cent) to place importance on ethnic or cultural origins. One in four people in Canada are reported to be part of a racialized group.

At TMU’s Black Business Student Association (BBSA), though the students may not come not from Eritrea, but from different countries like Ethiopia and Kenya, Yirgalem finds a safe space for herself precisely for feeling seen and heard, while growing up she didn’t have peers that looked like her.

“The world is not just one thing. Sometimes you need people around you to show you you are welcome, especially in a country where your ethnic and cultural community is not the majority,” said Cristina Diaz, a Puerto Rican third-year student.

According to Statistics Canada, though diversity may be apparent with the largest populations of South Asian, Chinese, Black, Filipino, West Asian, Latin American, Southeast Asian, and Korean people living in Toronto, close to 70 per cent of Canada’s population reported being white.

“If I have a chance to learn about someone else's culture [then] I will, because this is them finally being able to talk about it, because they're never really given a platform to share, like their background and their experiences,” Naghar expressed.

“I feel like it's important because it just makes us realize that the world is so much bigger than just us and that there's so much more in the world than just what we know.”

A Celebration of Choral Classics

Director Matthew Jaskiewicz leaves behind a legacy of unity and talent with the Toronto Concert Choir

By Terri Edward

On Saturday Dec. 2, the Toronto Concert Choir will perform their final concert at the Knox Presbyterian Church (Photo by Ylanite Koppens)

On a quiet Monday night in Toronto Metropolitan University’s (TMU) Kerr Hall, a classroom suited for small lectures had a group of novice and advanced singers come together. Cracking jokes and exchanging stories, they carry folders of sheet music to use for the night. These members meet every week, full of dedication and excitement to practice their craft; classical choral music. 

This weekly celebration of music is a regular routine for the Toronto Concert Choir, a TMU affiliated classical choir founded in 1984 previously under the name Oakham House Choir. Leading the group is experienced music director Matthew Jaskiewicz, who founded the choir alongside Marie Dowler in 1984. 

Jaskiewicz’ musical journey began in Poland where he conducted the Warsaw University Choir. Since immigrating to Canada in 1984 and founding the Toronto Concert Choir, Jaskiewicz has made it his mission to keep traditional music alive on campus by providing a space for musicians of all skill levels to grow and experience the gift of classic choral music.

After over 35 years of choral performance, the choir is approaching its final performance on Dec. 2, 2023.

Jaskiewicz's experience in classical music has shaped the way he directs the Toronto Concert Choir as he said that he “keeps doing what [he] used to do.” From Poland to Canada, Jaskiewicz has nurtured the foundations of music and the choir has continued this tradition, nurturing both the music and him. He has referred to the choir as his “adopted family” and Canada his “adopted home.”

“This is a very special kind of group, those are all sensitive people, people who like and know how to work together for a common goal,” Jaskiewicz expressed. “They are very loyal, wonderful people, [they] are my best friends.”

Although there was a decline in the choir’s membership after the COVID-19 pandemic, the sense of community is undeniable — something reiterated by Akua Benjamin, a longtime member of the choir.

“You have people who are trained, but you [also] have people like me [who] just love to sing.” Benjamin said, praising Jaskiewicz’ ability to bring together vocalists from different backgrounds and giving everyone the opportunity to express their love for choral music.

The communal and supportive energy present during rehearsals is apparent from the moment you step through the door. Mingling and laughter fill the small room, with many members describing the choir as a found family. A majority of the 28 members came prepared with thick binders of sheet music, showing their dedication to the space and to Jaskiewicz’ direction. Not only is Jaskiewicz a main contributor to the positive environment of the choir, but a recipient of the positivity. Members are eager to support and assist Jaskiewicz, even offering to help him find his missing page and with the pronunciation of French lyrics.

“Everyone’s very welcoming,” said choir member Eleanor Bishop, toward others in the group. “[Jaskiewicz] brings a lot of passion and patience to the choir, and we couldn’t do without him.”

Shelagh Cowie began singing with the Toronto Concert Choir in the 90s. To her, the community was especially important during the pandemic, as it was one of the few ways people could connect with each other.

“[Jaskiewicz is] absolutely vital, without him there wouldn’t be this community. He’s the reason we exist.” Cowie said when asked about Jaskiewicz impact on the choir’s community and overall energy.

Despite the passionate members, an inspired director and supportive staff, a lack of interest and financial support have left the choir with nowhere to turn.

The Toronto Concert Choir's last concert will take place this Saturday, Dec. 2, at the Knox Presbyterian Church. The concert titled The Very Best Time of Year will feature the work of Franz Hubert and incorporate traditions and songs from around the world. The concert aims to blend choral classics with contemporary Christmas carols.

“After this concert, we will be left with nothing,” said Theresa Adams, the choir’s administrative director. “We are knocking on a lot of doors.”

Yet, the knocks of the choir seem to be going unanswered as the date of their final performance goes closer.

As community members celebrated the choir, Jaskiewicz had a lingering question.

“We are very proud of our history, but what's the future?”

The closing of the choir leaves a gap at TMU, and Jaskiewicz fears that this space will not be filled. While his history and experience facilitate his role in the classical music sphere, his encouragement for other groups to explore more genres is profound. He expressed joy at an hypothetical of the university hosting several choirs as both Jaskiewicz and Adams agreed on a need for arts and music at TMU.

The choir has acted as a community for a wide range of people to come together and create music alongside one another. They were able to fight through a global pandemic and continue performing during a decline of interest in classical music.

“[COVID-19] killed a lot of choirs, but we didn't want to let it kill ours.” Adams said, describing the choir's sense of feeling “lost” after the pandemic.

Jaskiewicz and the Toronto Concert Choir have a profound history of perseverance and adaptability; they have created a large impact and a lasting legacy at TMU. However, instead of solely celebrating the choir, Matthew asked that we think towards the future, forging a space for “artistic life" on campus.

You can get tickets to the Toronto Concert Choir's final performance on Eventbrite.