ARCH Café: This fall, students returned to McGill to find that the beloved Architecture Café wouldn’t be reopening for the school year. In early September, Deputy Provost (Student Life and Learning) Morton Mendelson claimed that the café had been losing money for the last several years but refused to cite specific figures. The idea to transform the vacant café into study space outraged a loud minority of McGill students and mobilized a broader slice of the student population who manifested their anger in two rallies outside of university Senate meetings. Though the administration stood firm on their stance to keep the café and their books closed, students’ demands for further consultation eventually paid off with the formation of the Student Consultation and Communication Work Group, which vowed to increase student consultation on major decisions. The Mobilization McGill group also formed in response to calls for more student involvement in university affairs. In early November, a report became public explaining that the café lost $15,000 last year and was projected to lose more than $73,000 this academic year. From the saga, students gained the consultation working group, a welcome sense of student unity, an unwelcome feeling of “us versus them,” and the knowledge that, as Students’ Society President Zach Newburgh recently put it, “if the administration is really bent on something, it is very difficult to change its mind.”

AUS: The AUS had an extremely rough financial year. On September 22, it announced that this year’s Frosh had lost $30,105 after executives overestimated the number of registrations. Shortly afterward, the AUS learned it had to surrender $18,000 of unpaid federal and provincial taxes. To add insult to injury, the administration announced that it would not release the $83,000 of student fees that normally funds the Society.  President Dave Marshall and his team have held up admirably, and have taken steps to change the AUS’ ways. Hopefully, future AUS execs won’t have to make emergency payments for AUS operations with their own credit cards, as the current one has had to.

Jobbook: In the early hours of February 4, the Students’ Society Council nearly voted to remove President Zach Newburgh from office after details of his involvement with the employment-based social networking website Jobbook were released to Council in a multi-hour in camera session. Though Newburgh was censured, not impeached, the details that did surface dealt his presidency a hard blow. In the same Council session, Newburgh came close to passing what had been a promising General Assembly reform question through Council, but ultimately failed to get his question on the ballot. For the next several weeks, students and campus media tried to learn more details about what was being called Jobbook-gate. The inquiries eventually culminated in a February 17 Council session during which Newburgh fielded questions from students and councillors about his involvement with the website. At this meeting, Newburgh revealed details regarding his trips to schools around the world and his confidentiality agreement. Many students wanted even more information which, to this day, hasn’t been unveiled, and probably never will.

Tweets: Haaris Khan’s tweets on March 8 were McGill’s most menacing sentences this year. Attending a Conservative McGill/Libertarian McGill film screening of Indoctrinate U, a documentary about liberal biases on university campuses, Khan wrote about how he wanted to shoot everyone in the room. Other tweets included “I’ve infiltrated a Zionist meeting;” “I feel like I’m at a Satanist ritual;” “I should have brought an M-16.”  When the story became public, Khan issued an apology in the Tribune, saying that he “[didn’t] have a problem with Jews.” He has since been investigated by the university.

President Zach Newburgh started the year strong, acting as the ever-present public face of the movement to re-open the Architecture Café. Shouting through a megaphone outside of Leacock prior to the September McGill Senate meeting, Newburgh presided over one of the most significant and coordinated displays of student engagement and mobilization McGill has seen in recent memory. Although the café was never re-opened, the campaign did lead to the creation of Student Consultation and Communication Work Group. While the ultimate outcome of this group remains to be seen, it at least represents some progress in administration-student relations.  

Newburgh also collaborated with Vice-President Internal Tom Fabian to organize SSMU’s first substantial Homekoming celebration this fall, and the two are already working on next year’s event. Although the weekend was not as well attended as anticipated, these types of thing typically take a few years to get going, and we’re hopeful the event will only grow in the coming years. Newburgh also worked hard to increase the president’s visibility, allowing any undergrad to schedule a meeting with him using Tungle, an online appointment-booking application.

Significantly, Newburgh initiated a much needed effort to eliminate the hopelessly flawed General Assembly. Although he was criticized for not sufficiently consulting students during the process, and the motion he authored was ultimately unsuccessful, he succeeded in initiating a long-awaited conversation which we hope will eventually lead to major reforms to or the abolition of the GA.

But most of Newburgh’s successes will be forgotten, as much of the second half of his presidency has been overshadowed the Jobbook debacle. In signing a confidentiality agreement last fall, and using his SSMU email for personal dealings, Newburgh exercised poor judgment in many instances. This continued after the matter came to light, as Newburgh only answered questions he deemed sufficiently “nice” at the question-and-answer period he held. Although it appears Newburgh did not actually violate SSMU’s Conflict of Interest policy, his handling of the entire situation left many questions unanswered and many students feeling alienated. In addition, the debacle hopelessly splintered the Executive Committee, meaning Newburgh failed in one of the most important duties of the presidential office: leadership.  

Newburgh’s revisions to the Conflict on Interest policy may help to prevent such a situation from arising in the future, but Jobbook will define how many students remember his tenure as president.

Though Vice-President Clubs and Services Anushay Khan was elected last year without facing an opponent, the Tribune was confident at the time that she would perform well in the position. Like her predecessor, Sarah Olle, Khan had a year of experience as the Students’ Society’s interest group coordinator and we strongly endorsed her candidacy.

In retrospect, the Tribune may have been too enthusiastic. Despite her experience, Khan has often proved unable to stay on top of the portfolio’s many demands. Various clubs have complained that she is slow to respond to emails and has failed to make time for meetings. At times, Khan has seemed to misunderstand the needs of the clubs and services she manages. She pushed for the installation of special sinks to facilitate ablutions—the Islamic practice of washing before prayer—in spite of a lack of enthusiasm from Muslim Students Association. In addition, she spent time applying to the Sustainability Projects Fund for funds to buy energy-saving light bulbs, an area that the fund does not cover.

In the second semester, Khan’s disorganization caused real problems. Midnight Kitchen, the Shatner Building’s popular vegan food cooperative, was forced to shut down for a week after their provincial permit expired. According to the cooperative, Khan failed to let them know the permit was expiring until days before they were shut down. The whole situation, which was resolved by submitting some paperwork, could have been easily avoided if Khan had been more on top of her responsibilities.

Shortly after elections last month, Monika Fabian, this year’sinterest group coordinator, resigned her position after losing the race to replace Khan, her direct supervisor, next year. Though it’s not clear exactly why she resigned, Khan’s management style—she once publicly criticized Fabian in front of SSMU Council—may have had something to do with it. The Tribune hopes that Carol Fraser, who will replace Khan next year, will prove more able to handle the portfolio.

Vice-President Internal Tom Fabian’s accomplishments are worth recognizing. First, Fabian managed to reconcile the interests of the administration and those of students to successfully lay the groundwork for a revamped Orientation Week. He also successfully organized the Students’ Society’s first Homekoming and revived Faculty Olympics. Although attendance at both events was below capacity, the popularity of these events will hopefully grow with the years. Fabian did a great job not only incorporating these events into the internal portfolio but also startingto plan for next year.

Fabian’s efforts towards increasing McGill school spirit have also started to pay off, and his combined efforts with VP Finance and Operations Nick Drew have helped make Gert’s a popular spot on campus. The launching of the “Get Ready” website, where SSMU events are listed and promoted, as well as the revamp of the SSMU listerv, were additional attempts to encourage students to participate in McGill events.

Starting with a successful attendance at last fall’s Fill the Stadium football game, Fabian continued to promote McGill Athletics, and for the first time in the recent McGill history, the visibility and popularity of McGill’s varsity teams are actually increasing—a trend we hope will continue. In addition, Fabian proved cool and collected in his relations with the rest of the Executive Committee, especially during the Jobbook debacle.  

While Fabian’s overall performance was impressive, the Tribune missed two events Alex Brown, his lovely predecessor in the position, held last year: bringing a high-profile speaker to campus and holding a year-end concert. Last year’s Salman Rushdie lecture and Girl Talk concert brought out many students who don’t ordinarily attend SSMU events, making them worthwhile efforts despite their significant price tags.

Overall, Fabian’s efforts have left a solid platform for his successor, Todd Plummer, whom the Tribune hopes will take advantage of the progress Fabian has made.

Vice-President Finance and Operations Nick Drew has had a stellar year. Gert’s, the most visible part of the FOPS portfolio, thrived under his watch. This year’s St. Patrick’s Day celebration at Gert’s broke the single-day sales record, which was previously held by this year’s Octoberhaus—two events which have been very well attended and profitable for Gert’s and SSMU. A multitude of campus organizations have been hosting more and more events at Gert’s, making it a consistently busy hotspot on campus. The daily drink deals have also been a key move, generating reasons for attendance any day of the week. And maybe the biggest change is that people actually want to go to Gert’s. The days of blaring music and empty tables have been replaced by a full bar of eager McGillians.

Although plans for renovations have been going slower than some may have hoped, everyone knows that money is tight. The McGill administration can be difficult to work with, but Drew has worked hard to ensure that the ball gets rolling on the project. The planned renovations include an updated kitchen, which will help with the bar’s food service. Though the food service’s potential has not fully realized, the future looks promising.

Both of the Book Bazaars, the replacement for Haven Books, lost money and were relatively unsuccessful, but this may have been unavoidable. Drew has talked about plans to move the whole process online and form a SSMU Classifieds, which could be a welcome change. However, it’s unclear how useful this would be when we already have McGill Classifieds. Either way, the experimentation was promising and Drew seems to have laid a good groundwork in this regard for Shyam Patel, next year’s VP FOPS. Drew has also worked with Patel to update the Club Auditing process, which aims to make the daunting auditing process much easier for SSMU clubs and services. Finally Drew has been impressive in his tactical handling of the SSMU investment portfolio, which did very well this year.

The biggest challenge by far in Myriam Zaidi’s portfolio this year was tuition, which the Quebec government announced on March 17 would increase by $325 per year over the next five years. Zaidi took a strong stance against tuition from the beginning.  The website tuitiontruth.ca, which she re-launched this year, was a significant step in relaying tuition information to students.  The research and information presented on the website gives students a good reason to attend protests. However, the scholarship on whether or not low tuition correlates with university accessibility is far from conclusive, and the website only presents one side of this debate. More importantly, it doesn’t present any alternatives to tuition hikes. Zaidi should be commended for her efforts to rally students, but the Tribune would have liked to see SSMU work towards increasing financial assistance as well.

Zaidi should also be applauded for her role in setting up the Charity Fund and working with the Charity Committee, which will distribute the new student fee, although the Tribune still has some lingering concerns about how the fee will be allocated. We’re concerned, however, about reports that Zaidi has been late to or absent from meetings with various groups both on and off campus and has not always responded to emails in a timely fashion.

With the motion to reform the GA and SSMU President Zach Newburgh’s involvement in Jobbook dividing their team, this year’s executives often had difficult working together cohesively.  Zaidi’s decision to bring a Judicial Board complaint against Newburgh for his involvement with Jobbook seemed unnecessary, as Council had already taken disciplinary action with its censure of Newburgh in early February. Unlike many of her other admirable efforts throughout the year, this action seems to have been divisive rather than constructive.

Four winters ago, after class on a clear day in December, my friend Jack and I hiked up the northeastern side of Mount Royal in the snow. It was cold, but the ascent was steep—we were making our own path—and we warmed up fast enough, enjoying deep breaths of crisp, coniferous air.

Actually, Jack was making the path. He had gone up the week before and invited me to join him for a second go. Arriving at a decent vantage point, we took a break to look out on the city: a vast swath of the upper Plateau whose vanishing point, from that angle, happens to be the Olympic Stadium, oddly beautiful from the mountain.

As we stood there, a chickadee alighted on a tree branch close by. We called him in, and to our surprise, he flew closer, jumping cautiously from branch to branch, chirping with curiosity. Beckoning him further, we held out our hands. He jumped into my palm first, then Jack’s, then to a branch and away. He felt weightless.

That was my first winter in Montreal, and my first year at McGill. Now that it’s my last semester, I’ve been feeling reflective, sorting through my memory for cherishable moments—trying to make sense of my time here.

Last Sunday, I went up the mountain alone, along the north-eastern side. I hadn’t been up that way since first year, with Jack, and I wanted to revisit the experience. I think I was trying to sanctify a memory by reliving it in some way. But that isn’t very realistic. It felt a little bit like acting, artificial. As I made my way up the snowy mountainside, along a narrow path few had walked, I stopped and stood there and tried to drop the self-consciousness.

The forest was remarkably still and quiet. I had forgotten how calming that kind of stillness can be. At that moment, I heard a chickadee chirping above. Following his voice, I found him high up in an oak tree and called him in.

He came, cautious as the other, jumping from branch to branch, cocking his head, sizing me up. I put out my hand, waiting for the moment. But he didn’t jump. I waited as he waited, and finally, he flew up and away from me, high above into the same oak.

I could have tried to call him in again. But I walked on toward the chalet lookout, which overlooks downtown Montreal. I have been there too many times to count. Entering the chalet, I bought a hot chocolate and sat down at a table to think. Then I walked outside to the lookout and leaned on the balustrade, viewing the city on a clear, windy day before the snow had melted.

I know this city much better now, four years and millions of steps later. I looked down at McGill, its frosted green roofs glistening in the sun—quite a vantage point for reflection and nostalgia, for the retrieval of memory. I kept on looking, just able to make out the little bodies moving slowly through campus, going somewhere. Montreal looked so self-sufficient that day—the city made sense.

I don’t know if I’ll ever make sense of my memories. I do remember vividly how weightless that chickadee was that landed in the palm of my hand four years ago. I can’t forget. Memory is also weightless.

Winters from now, I will remember winters ago, when I hiked up the mountain alone and called in a chickadee. Because he would not land, I will remember him for his weightlessness, too.

When I began writing for the Tribune, I was given certain responsibilities: to express myself clearly, to write on issues that interested students, and to comment on the events occurring around me.

After my first column, I realized that the thing I loved most—writing—was much harder than it seemed. The standards were higher, the demands were tougher, and the process was challenging. But I loved it. I loved the feeling of taking a pen to the piece of paper, searching for the right words that I needed to say. When I found them, it was a gasp of fresh air, a feeling of completeness, as if I had been able to reflect my true self in just 500 words.

But challenges remained. The hardest thing about being a columnist was never really meeting my readers face to face. I communicated with you through email, through the website, and, of course, through my articles, but I rarely had the opportunity to know the people behind their names. It’s hard to grapple with the fact that perhaps you are writing to a captive audience of 10,000 students and perhaps you are writing to no one. It begs the question: who are the McGill students I wish to represent? Am I even supposed to represent them? If I am, how do I do so without even meeting them?

I began this year believing that my job was to write about the issues I thought students cared about, issues that a good “representative” of the student body should care about. Throughout the year, I tried my best to find out what these issues were: Plagiarism? The job search? McGill services? The Egyptian revolution? I thought this year was about searching for a cause, searching for something that would cause me to be seen as a good representative of you. Only later did I realize this year was about more than just you and me.

I always enjoyed reading newspapers and it slowly became evident to me that the information I received in the news was shaping my outlook on world events, politics, and economics. The newspaper I read was the frame through which I created my own thoughts, the lenses I looked through before coming to my own conclusions. The writers of these newspaper articles don’t just write to me and you, they write to an audience of citizens, world leaders, the old, the young, rich and poor, and tell their story. They create a network of stories that come together and shape the way we analyze the world.

That understanding helped me realize my task as a columnist. It wasn’t simply to engage with readers, but also to shape the campus conversation and dialogue. It was not only to express my thoughts or try my best to represent yours, but to develop a shared story with you. So, what story have we created here?

I think the story we’ve written is the story of a student—it could be any student—striving to find a voice in a campus of 30,000 diverse voices. A story of a student who wishes to fulfill all her dreams. A story of an individual who believes that the path to action begins with expressing yourself.  

Throughout this past year, I’ve hoped to share a bit of myself in the hopes that it encourages other students to share theirs. Thanks for taking this journey with me and I look forward to discovering more of this story. 

Why do we read student newspapers? Why do we, every week, pick up any of the campus publications and question, judge, accept, or concur with the articles inside? We are offended by them. We are amused by them. They give us something to do between classes, while sitting down for lunch, or taking study breaks. They are there to provide information, and to give the student body its voice. We read these newspapers because, I feel, they harken back to a time when adults were viewed as intellectually stimulated individuals, keeping up with the news of the world, the state of their community, and the latest adventures of Charlie Brown. There is something in the image of a person sitting with the pages of a newspaper spread in front of her. Over our coffee or Tiki-Ming, we read the articles in these papers because we hope to read something that we can connect to, that we feel represents us.

I am not a journalist. I don’t claim to be at the forefront of politics, student or otherwise. I write what I know and understand—that is all I can contribute. Sometimes, people may see my columns, particularly the topics about which I write, as being a little overbearing, or pointless, or rambling, or downright stupid. I wanted to write for the Tribune this year because I felt I had something to say to the students of McGill that would make them laugh, something to take them out of the rest of the newspaper, if for a moment, and something that might strike them as funny or odd or questionable. I never wrote anything that would purposely and maliciously offend or anger. I didn’t tackle world politics because I don’t know how, and I have no opinions that I personally consider valid or challenging. Everything I know about the world I learn from other sources, so recycling their opinions, maybe slightly varied, as my own was not my goal. I honestly just wanted to write about Facebook and BDP and how much I hate pants (though that last one somehow never managed to get through). And I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes my articles were spur-of-the-moment choices that somehow managed to work out, but I write those topics better than the ones I heavily meditate on.

I appreciate our student newspapers because, otherwise, a tradition that has been around at universities for ages would be missing. That sense of a student-run voice on campus is telling of the importance of old styles of information transmission. We may all have social networking and cell phones and blogs and computer passwords, but we also have newspapers, and there will never be reason to get rid of them. Regardless of the various newspaper-related websites we can readily visit, I know I’d still rather walk through the halls of the Arts Building while seeing people with physical copies of a newspaper in their hands than a series of illuminated faces peering into laptops and smartphones. The next time you read a newspaper, think of the work that goes into it: the editing, the photography, the layout, and the articles themselves. Remember that no matter how many Kindles we may own one day, they will never leave ink on our fingers. They will never physically imprint the words of the writer onto your skin. How much closer can you get to my words than that?