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All Things Academic, Student Life

Learning beyond the classroom with the Arts Internship Office

In 2002, responding to popular demand, Anne Turner inaugurated the Arts Internship Office (AIO) to provide services meant to prepare Arts undergraduate students for that daunting and amorphous next step: Life after a BA degree. 

Housed in the Leacock Building, the AIO helps returning Arts students access and apply to internships aimed at enhancing their academic experience. For students hoping to pursue academic research, the AIO’s Arts Undergraduate Research Awards Program (ARIA) offers a unique opportunity to work on high-level scholarship under the direct supervision of a professor or faculty member. 

Throughout the application process, the AIO hosts workshops over Zoom to teach students the concrete skills they need to succeed. Charlotte Petitjean, U3 Arts, described the benefit of these workshops in an interview with The Tribune

“They offer a lot of workshops, like how to write a CV, how to do a letter of recommendation,” Petitjean said. “I feel it’s really helpful [.…] It motivates you to update your CV or implement a lot of recommendations, which are super important skills.” 

The AIO has also established an Arts Internship Mentorship Initiative (AMI) in collaboration with the Arts Undergraduate Society. The program pairs students with an AMI mentor—an undergraduate who has recently completed a successful internship or academic research project. These mentors guide students through the application process for obtaining internships and funding through the AIO, creating a network of support for navigating the complex application process and succeeding in unfamiliar research tasks. For interested Arts students, applications to become an AMI mentee are open until Oct. 14. 

Theresa Decius-Timothée, U4 Arts, spent her 2024 summer internship with the Montreal-based non-governmental organization Éduconnexion, working on gender-based violence and social healing.  

“This was one of those jobs where I was really able to apply my McGill knowledge into the workplace […], so it was really nice bridging that gap,” Theresa said in an interview with The Tribune. “It made me realize that embracing education doesn’t just mean getting a degree, it means seeking to be curious in every aspect of your life.” 

Describing her own internship experience as an undergraduate student, the AIO’s Liaison Officer Jade Perraud Le Bouter suggested that, whether good or bad, an internship teaches you about your own interests and capabilities. 

“You can learn from doing an internship you don’t love, because that can teach you a lot about what you want in the future, so it’s very valuable,” Perraud Le Bouter explained.   

These opportunities to grow in a new context can also be exciting, challenging, and memorable. Thelma Caye, U3 Arts, echoed this blend of nerves and excitement when describing her trip to Columbia for her internship this summer with Solidarité Colombie Québec

“I was on the plane to go, and I was like, ‘oh my god, this is not possible.’ I was shaking,” Caye said in an interview with The Tribune. “But after that, I realized there was a bit of nervousness, but I was mostly excited.” 

For Arts undergraduate students, the path after university can often seem nebulous and uncertain. In the sea of essays and theory, it can be difficult to discern what the real-world application of an Arts degree actually looks like. Decius-Timothée, Petitjean, and Caye, each suggested that their internship experience played a vital role in refining their own personal goals. 

“I think it’s imperative in terms of understanding what you want to do with your career. I know for myself, my career decisions have been heavily impacted by my work experience, and by my internship experience,” Theresa said. 

Whether you’re unsure about the process or already hoping to apply for a summer internship, the Arts Internship Office is there to support you throughout your decision, providing a space for each student to grow and learn.

Off the Board, Opinion

The pill, the personal, and why we need better birth control

The rash was not improving. I was crying, laughing, shaking, and not sleeping; I didn’t want to go outside; I developed joint pain. I felt like I was losing my mind. 

I had been taking the birth control pill for four months. Side effects were to be expected. I felt that it was the price I had to pay to be in control of my body. 

At the end of November 2022, I admitted that something was wrong—my childhood eczema returned with a vengeance, and the joint pain was such that I could barely bend my arms. The best course of action was for me to fly home the same day to get an immunosuppressant prescription in Ontario. I was petrified.

After the plane landed, I blindly followed another passenger through Toronto Pearson Airport and soon found myself—having flown domestically—in the international baggage claim. The ensuing events led to a customs officer taking me to the interrogation room. Sobbing, I desperately wanted to tell them I was smart, but that I felt like I couldn’t think. I explained that I hadn’t meant to discover a serious security flaw in their airport; they eventually determined that I was not an international security threat, and escorted me out the back. 

That night, I stopped taking the pill. At the ER in Fergus, Ontario, I explained to the triage nurse that I had been taking the pill and felt like my mind and body had gone rogue. When she told me I wasn’t crazy, I cried.

For the months I was on the pill, I doubted myself constantly; I was horrified by the idea that my body wasn’t cooperating. Birth control was supposed to be empowering, and I felt terrible for not feeling empowered by it. Part of me—enchanted by fictional images of beautiful sick women with ambiguous diseases, punctuated only by demure coughing that kept them lovely and made them tragic—was upset that I had not developed a more poetic health condition. The infected rash was not sexy.   

My experience has led me to advocate not against birth control, but for better birth control. For some, the pill is wonderful. But too often, birth control is prescribed with a trial-and-error approach: You’re prescribed a dosage, and you hope it works for you. Reproductive healthcare is increasingly de-individualized and difficult to access. To advocate for better birth control, we have to talk about it—and have someone willing to listen.

I now have an IUD, Kyleena. (Kyleena, Mirena, Skyla, Twirla—I do not know who decided to give birth control AI-generated millennial baby names.) When I picked up the prescription, the pharmacist handed me a box the length of a standard fireplace log. I was horrified. I was not well-acquainted with my uterus, but I was sure that it did not have room for the log. 

To my relief, Kyleena was only 3 cm long. I had tried to have an IUD inserted months earlier, before I began the pill, but the insertion didn’t work. This time, my gynecologist prescribed me painkillers, and I brought my mom with me. I listened to The Chipmunks Christmas Album during the insertion to distract myself from the pain of the pointy metal medieval tools (gynecological instruments).

This isn’t a comfortable topic for me—I’m sweating writing this, and reading this piece will likely be how many of my family members discover I was taking birth control in the first place. But, to my bewilderment, nearly everyone I’ve spoken to about my problems on the pill revealed that they or someone they knew had struggled with its side effects. I suppose I wasn’t as difficult as I thought; it was the system that made me feel difficult—that advocating for myself was inconvenient, that women taking control of their bodies was supposed to be painful.

Birth control can change. Researchers are developing new methods, including birth control for men. Pieces appeared in The Walrus and The Atlantic earlier this year calling for a “Birth Control Revolution.” A new world is forming, wherein birth control could provide reproductive autonomy without sacrificing well-being.

Features

The Illusion of Inclusion

As an American who came of age during the tumultuous Trump era, with the 2016 election marking my first real exposure to the complexities of national politics, I couldn’t wait to move to Canada. Amid the chaos of increased polarization, inflammatory rhetoric, and escalating tensions that defined U.S. politics, Canada seemed like a beacon of reason across the border. Its political landscape seemed a world apart: Less divisive, less extreme, and free from the overt racism that had become normalized within American politics. However, as I settled into Montreal, and my daily scroll through the New York Times was soon accompanied by CBC and the Montreal Gazette, it became clear that this divisive rhetoric was not a uniquely American issue, but a deeply-rooted and distinct phenomenon in Quebec. 

Quebec headlines warning of “immigrants threatening national cohesion” and conflating immigrants with “conflict, extremism, and violence” echoed the narratives I’d seen perpetuated throughout American media for years. These sentiments, thinly veiled within Quebec’s rhetoric about protecting the French language, reveal a political tactic that exploits cultural concerns for expediency. By framing immigration as a threat to Québécois culture, politicians deftly manufacture public anxiety about demographic changes, scapegoating newcomers for broader societal issues. The same arguments I’d heard from the Trump administration about immigrants straining public resources or taking jobs from locals were being voiced by Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) politicians, as they blame immigrants for housing and healthcare crises. It was a harsh lesson that anti-immigration sentiment transcends borders, even in a country which actively portrays itself as multicultural, welcoming, and inclusive.

Quebec’s immigration policies under the CAQ government represent a dangerous fusion of economic opportunism and cultural fear-mongering, exploiting immigrants while simultaneously disparaging them. Dissecting the CAQ’s contradictory stance on immigration exposes how seemingly progressive societies can weaponize identity politics to exclude and marginalize newcomers. Understanding these tactics is crucial for dismantling the dangerous narratives that threaten both immigrant rights and societal cohesion, not just in Quebec, but wherever such divisive political strategies are wielded.

A History of Discrimination

To understand Quebec’s current immigration policies, we must first acknowledge Canada’s long history of discriminatory practices. From the late 19th to mid-20th century, Canadian immigration policies were designed to maintain a white settler society. The government actively recruited immigrants from Britain, the United States, and northern Europe, systematically excluding or limiting immigration from Asia, Africa, and other parts of the world deemed “undesirable.” They employed informal mechanisms like border inspection regulations to exclude non-white immigrants, effectively halting the immigration of Black farmers from Oklahoma to Saskatchewan and Alberta in the early 20th century.

This racial hierarchy embedded within Canadian immigration policy was not just implicit; it was legally codified. The 1910 Immigration Act, for instance, included a “continuous journey” provision specifically designed to prevent immigration from India. The Chinese Immigration Act of 1923 effectively banned all Chinese immigration for over two decades. These discriminatory laws continue to shape contemporary discussions, providing historical precedent for exclusionary rhetoric and policies. Present arguments about the preservation of cultural homogeneity mirror historical attempts to maintain a specific vision of national identity within Canada.

While these overtly racist policies were gradually dismantled in the latter half of the 20th century, more subtle forms of systemic discrimination persisted in Canadian immigration practices. The seemingly objective points-based system introduced in 1967 still largely favours Western immigrants due to its language requirements and education criteria. As Yasmeen Abu-Laban, a political scientist at the University of Alberta, said in an interview with The Tribune, “The shift away from race, to skills and then to ’human capital’ in Canadian immigration policy has obscured, but not eliminated, discriminatory outcomes.” 

Visa applicants from Africa face a higher visa rejection rate than any other continent, exemplifying the pervasive biases ingrained within Canada’s immigration system. From 2015-2016, the approval rate for temporary resident visas for African applicants fell by 18.4 per cent. Meanwhile, for European applicants, the approval rate rose 4.4 per cent during the same timeframe. This imbalance in accessibility restricts mobility for many, while affording more convenient visa processes to applicants from wealthier, predominantly white countries.

The CAQ’s Contradictory Stance

In Quebec, the province’s unique position as a francophone enclave within a predominantly anglophone country has long fueled concerns about cultural preservation, although outside of Montreal, Quebec is Canada’s least racially diverse province and studies demonstrate that the use of French in the Quebec public sphere has remained stable over the past 15 years, despite increases in migration numbers. Nevertheless, these anxieties continue to frame the CAQ government’s paradoxical approach to immigration.

Quebec, like many regions, faces significant labour shortages across various sectors. The CAQ government has acknowledged this and recruits temporary foreign workers to fill gaps in industries such as agriculture, food manufacturing, and hospitality. Since 2018, the government has conducted over 60 international hiring missions, spending millions to attract workers from countries like Brazil, Mexico, and Morocco. 

While recognizing vital immigrant contributions to Quebec’s pressing labour needs on the one hand, the CAQ administration also portrays newcomers as threats to the province’s cultural fabric and social infrastructure. This conflicting rhetoric leads to irresponsible policies, fostering an inconsistent environment for immigrants, where they are initially recruited for their labour but are then met with insufficient support and resources upon arrival. 

It’s hard to square this economically-motivated migration with Legault’s repeated warnings that increased immigration—including the temporary workers that his government has actively sought out—could be “suicidal” for the French language and Quebec’s cultural identity. This framing creates a false dichotomy between immigration’s economic benefits and Quebec’s cultural health, ignoring the potential for immigrants to contribute positively to both spheres. 

This exclusionary mindset perpetuates a cycle of precarity for many immigrants. The CAQ fails to recognize that long-term economic stability and growth often depend on immigrants putting down roots, starting businesses, and becoming fully engaged members of their communities.

Scapegoating Immigrants: Housing, Education, and Healthcare

While actively recruiting immigrants to address labour shortages, the CAQ government simultaneously blames them for social issues, particularly housing, education, and healthcare.

In May 2023, Legault claimed that the housing crisis was “100 per cent” the fault of temporary immigrants. This statement not only oversimplifies a complex issue but also conveniently deflects responsibility for years of inadequate housing policies and underinvestment in affordable housing.

The CAQ’s policies further expose the hollowness of their claims tying immigrants to the housing crisis. In late 2023, when the Canadian government announced a program to welcome 11,000 people from Colombia, Haiti, and Venezuela who have immediate family members in Canada, Quebec declined to participate. This decision particularly impacts Quebec’s significant Haitian community, as 87 per cent of Canadians of Haitian origin reside in the province. It also starkly contradicts Legault’s assertion that immigrants are completely to blame for the provincial housing crisis. By opting out of Canada’s nationally instated family reunification measures, the CAQ overlooks an opportunity for newcomers to be housed with their existing family members. Instead, the government continues to prioritize temporary workers, underscoring how the CAQ’s anti-immigration sentiments are rooted in nationalist ideologies rather than the realities surrounding housing infrastructure. 

Similarly, with regard to education, Legault has pointed to the “explosion in the number of immigrant children” as a primary cause of teacher shortages. However, education experts argue that the real issues are long-standing problems such as poor working conditions, low pay, and an aging workforce. The government’s rhetoric deflects attention from the CAQ’s failure to address these systemic issues, placing the blame instead on immigrant families.

François Rocher, emeritus professor of Political Studies at the University of Ottawa, expounded on the reductive correlation between social crises and immigration in an interview with The Tribune.

 “Immigrants can play a role in those issues, but not a significant one. It’s a factor among others. All of these issues: Housing, teacher shortages, are structural problems which predate increases in immigration. Immigrants are targeted [by Legault] as a source of the problem,” said Rocher.

In healthcare, the same narrative runs parallel, with Legault stating that immigration in Quebec is “hurting our healthcare system.” This rhetoric frames immigrants as a burden on the system, despite evidence suggesting that recent immigrants tend to be younger and healthier than the general population, often underutilizing healthcare services. The CAQ government also conveniently disregards the significant contribution of immigrant healthcare workers to Quebec’s medical system. By 2020, nearly 20 per cent of nurses and 35 per cent of doctors in Quebec were immigrants or born to immigrant parents, highlighting the essential role they play in contributing to—rather than straining—the province’s healthcare infrastructure.

Scapegoating serves a dualistic purpose: It provides a simple explanation for social issues that the provincial government has failed to address, while simultaneously reinforcing the notion of immigrants as “others”—not fully part of Québécois society. It’s a narrative that ignores the economic necessity of immigration while fueling social divisions and Quebec’s cultural protectionist narrative.

Language Policies and Lack of Integration support

Stephan Reichhold, director of the Table de concertation des organismes au service des personnes réfugiées et immigrantes (TCRI), summarized the unjust situation in an interview with The Tribune

 “There is a disconnect between the discourse that says we need immigrants and the measures that are put in place to welcome them. We’re not giving ourselves the means to properly welcome and integrate the people we’re inviting to come here,” Reichhold said.

Quebec’s language policies further illustrate the CAQ government’s paradoxical approach to immigration, highlighting the government’s failure to provide adequate support for successful newcomer integration. Bill 96, implemented in 2022, mandates that after six months in Quebec, immigrants must interact with government agencies—including critical resources such as healthcare, social services, and employment assistance programs—exclusively in French. While actively recruiting workers to fill labour shortages, it imposes linguistic demands that can severely hinder their ability to fully participate in Quebec society, long before they’ve had a reasonable opportunity to develop fluency.

Moreover, the government’s approach to language learning support is woefully inadequate. While free French courses are theoretically available, they are often inaccessible due to long waitlists, inconvenient schedules for working immigrants, and limited availability in rural areas. According to data from the Ministère de l’Immigration, de la Francisation, et de l’Intégration (MIFI), as of 2022, the average wait time for government-sponsored French courses in Quebec was 4.5 months, with some regions experiencing wait times of up to eight months. Out of the 50,000 immigrants eligible for these courses annually, only about 30,000 were able to enroll due to capacity constraints. Moreover, 62 per cent of enrolled immigrants reported difficulties attending classes due to conflicts with work schedules. This lack of accessible language training directly impacts immigrants’ ability to integrate into the job market and society at large. In 2021, nearly 60 per cent of university-educated immigrants were forced into jobs below their qualifications, not due to lack of expertise, but because they didn’t meet French language requirements for positions matching their skills.

The discrepancy between the CAQ’s ostensible prioritization of French language protection and its failure to provide adequate programs for immigrants to learn French raises questions about the true motives behind Quebec’s language policies. This inconsistency suggests that language politics in Quebec may serve as a proxy for exclusionary and racially biased agendas, rather than genuine concerns of maintaining French culture. Selective Francophone preservation is echoed in Quebec’s new tuition policies for international students at McGill University: Despite French being an official language in 28 countries worldwide, most of which are in Africa, reduced tuition rates are offered exclusively to students from France and Belgium. This policy, disguised as an attempt to attract Francophone students, only further entrenches a system that prioritizes white, European French speakers.

Reimagining Quebec’s Immigration Paradigm

Quebec’s current approach to immigration is not only unsustainable but fundamentally at odds with the principles of inclusivity it claims to uphold. It’s hypocritical and deeply unfair for the government to recruit immigrants to fill labour shortages, only to blame them for problems the CAQ itself failed to adequately address. To proceed, Quebec must reconcile its economic needs with its cultural anxieties, and call on the CAQ government to implement policies that genuinely support immigrant integration rather than creating barriers. This requires a multi-faceted approach: Quebec must significantly expand accessible French language programs and job integration resources, and foster a political discourse that celebrates diversity rather than weaponizing it. The CAQ government must be held accountable for its contradictory policies, and voters have a responsibility to demand a more coherent, equitable approach to immigration.

Ultimately, Quebec stands at a crossroads. It can continue down the path of exclusion, and the same tired narrative of “us” versus “them.” Or, it can embrace a future where immigrant contributions are fully recognized and integrated, understood as enrichments rather than threats to Québécois culture. The choice is not just about immigration policy—it’s about the kind of society Quebec aspires to be.

Science & Technology

The science behind the beat

Imagine a world where every sound makes you want to move. Why is it that some sounds, like the rhythm of a song, spark an irresistible urge to dance while others, like everyday conversation, leave us still and focused?

Benjamin Morillon, who completed his postdoc at Montreal Neurological Institute-Hospital (The Neuro), tackled this puzzle in his recent lecture at the Feindel Brain and Mind Seminar Series, revealing the ways our brain distinguishes between music and language and how these differences shape our responses to these sonic stimuli.

On Oct. 1, Morillon presented his work on the neural dynamics that underlie music perception and speech comprehension. His talk, Neural Dynamics and Computations Constraining Music and Speech Processing, explored the intricate ways our brains process these auditory experiences.

Morillon’s talk began with a question many of us might not have considered before: Why do we instinctively dance to music?

“Why do humans dance? It’s completely weird,” Morillon questioned. “You have a vibration in the ear that you perceive thanks to your sensory systems, and then you spontaneously move yourself. It’s completely ridiculous.” 

Central to his research is the idea that the brain’s auditory and motor systems work together to anticipate the next beat in a song. This process of “predictive timing” is what causes us to naturally want to move to music. 

“Dance is the expression of an oscillatory entrainment. Your body is entrained to the sound of music and is anticipating the next beat within the audio-motor loop,” Morillon explained in his talk.

This entrainment happens within the dorsal auditory pathway, a brain pathway that helps determine the source and location of sounds. While auditory regions track the rhythm of a song, the motor system uses this information to anticipate when the next beat will occur, leading to the desire to move in time with the beat. Interestingly, this response works best for rhythms that occur around 2Hz—or two beats per second—a frequency that aligns with natural movement patterns like walking or nodding. 

“The motor system is actually quite simple; you can do stuff at 2Hz, and you can anticipate things in time at 2Hz. That’s quite limited for cognitive function that was evolutionarily selected for its flexibility,” Morillon remarked. 

Additionally, the motor system engages more when music follows a moderate level of complexity. If a song is too simple, we lose interest; if it is overly complex, it becomes difficult for us to synchronize our movements. This “sweet spot” of syncopation triggers a “groove”—a sense of wanting to move to the music.

After discussing music, Morillon transitioned to another fundamental human behaviour: Speech comprehension. Like music, speech engages specific brain regions along the auditory pathway. Speech comprehension involves the brain adapting to different acoustic features, particularly when speech is presented in challenging conditions, such as when it is compressed, sped up, or layered with background noise.

Morillon’s findings also touch on the concept of “channel capacity”—the brain’s ability to manage and process multiple streams of information simultaneously, such as different acoustic or linguistic features in speech.

Morillon demonstrated that different features of speech, including syllabic rate and pitch, impact our comprehension to varying degrees, with the syllabic rate being one of the most influential factors. 

Through human intracranial recordings, Morillon’s team found that the auditory cortex processes syllables and phonemes at different time scales, allowing for parallel processing of speech signals. While the brain is decoding the syllabic rhythm of speech, it is simultaneously processing finer phonemic details—a remarkable example of neural efficiency. 

Morillon’s research sheds light on the fascinating ways our brains juggle the rhythms of music and speech, offering a glimpse into how these neural processes shape our everyday experiences—whether we’re moving to the beat of a song or engaging in a conversation.

In Competition With, Sports

McGill Squash(es) the competition at home opener

The McGill Squash team had a weekend to remember, hosting their only home match of the season against the Ottawa Gee-Gees and the Queen’s Gaels. The energy at the Webster Squash Courts was palpable as the players took to the court, eager to showcase their skills and lay down statement victories in front of home-crowd support. 

The men’s team kicked off the tournament with a convincing 6-1 victory over the Gee-Gees. The match was highlighted by dominant performances from several McGill players. Grayson Wheeler, U3 Arts, cruised to a straight 3-0 win, showcasing his exceptional shot-making and court coverage. Co-captain Mo Kamal, U3 Science, also delivered a commanding performance, utilizing his powerful shots and tactical awareness to overwhelm his opponent. The Gee-Gees battled valiantly but ultimately fell short against a determined McGill side. The second match against the Queen’s Gaels proved to be a much closer affair. The men’s team fought hard but ultimately fell by a narrow 4-3 margin. Kamal and Zachary Llewellyn, U0 Management, led the way for McGill, securing emphatic wins. However, the Gaels proved to be a formidable opponent.

Speaking to The Tribune about the progression in quality and dedication of the team, Kamal explained the consistent improvements to the McGill Squash program in the last few years. 

“Our first tournament, we show up in cars, unmarked clothing, everyone’s wearing random stuff,” he said. “And then we became more and more legitimate throughout the season, we were training more, winning games, and here we are. McGill squash is on the rise.”

The Redbirds will look to bounce back from their disappointing loss to Queen’s and continue the season in good form. Kamal is hopeful for the rest of the season.

“The women’s team were the only team last year to beat [Queen’s], and so we finished first in the league,” he said. “On the men’s side, we finished fourth last year. So we’re hoping to start to push that, maybe get top three, aiming for second at least to Western.

The women’s team also enjoyed a successful weekend, sweeping both the Gee-Gees and the Gaels. Against Ottawa, the women’s team dominated from start to finish, winning all seven matches in straight sets. Co-captain Ava Bicknell, U2 Arts, was particularly impressive, displaying exceptional skill and athleticism to cruise to a 3-0 victory against her opponent. 

The victory over Queen’s was a more challenging test for the women’s team, but they ultimately prevailed by a score of 5-2. Bicknell and Lialah Mavani, U2 Arts, led the way, winning their matches in straight sets. Bicknell fought hard to a 3-0 victory. Meanwhile, Mavani pressured her opponent, Gabriella Waite, to a four-game victory for the first time in the pair’s four-match history—a huge moment for her in front of the home crowd. Bicknell shared her story on the squash court.

 “It’s a family sport for us [….] I started when I was eight years old,” Bicknell recounted. “After playing the Junior League in high school, I stopped during COVID, [and] I didn’t know I was going to pick it back up until I came to McGill. I’m so happy that I tried out. The team is my family.”

As the season progresses, the McGill Squash program will look to build on this weekend’s success and achieve even greater heights. With a talented group of players and a supportive home crowd, the future looks bright for the team.

Moment of the game: 

Mo Kamal had back-to-back victories against the UOttawa and Queen’s number 1 seeds (one of whom was ex-McGill Squash player Sayeed Mavani). 

Quotable:

“One of my favourite parts of the day was getting to see the rookies’ first tournament experience as a team. Seeing their nerves turn into energy and excitement built up so much momentum for the rest of the season.” — Women’s co-captain Chloe Stoneburgh.

Stat corner: 

McGill’s women’s squash team won 12 of 14 matches , and the men’s team won nine of 14 matches. 

Current Sports Editor Lialah Mavani is on the women’s squash team but was not involved in the writing of this article.

Editorial, Opinion

As climate crises reach an unprecedented scale, Canada needs to rethink eco-justice

The climate crisis in Canada is worsening every year. In 2023, wildfires burned six times their historical average, polluting Montreal’s air quality to the lowest level in the world for two days. In 2024, 32,000 hectares of Jasper National Park burned down, rapidly eliminating critical local biodiversity and natural ecosystems. Across all of northern Canada, the permafrost is melting, destroying the ecosystems which sustain local Indigenous communities. In August, Montreal received more rainfall than it had in 100 years due to Hurricane Debby, causing flooding and the most costly damage in the city’s history. Meanwhile, as 2023 was revealed as the hottest year on global record, studies revealed Canada as the fastest-warming country in the world

While Canada as a whole is on track to reduce emissions by about 35 per cent by 2030, Quebec is falling behind, projected to reduce emissions by just 26 per cent. Quebecers took to the streets on Sept. 27 to demand more transparency and concrete climate action in the province. Like many places around the world, Quebec is prioritizing economic growth at the expense of sustainability. And while its goals for economic development include investment in Indigenous communities, they ignore the reality of Canada’s systematic eco-racism, and the fact that no investment in marginalized communities will promote systematic equity if climate justice is not first and foremost addressed.

While the climate crisis affects everyone, certain communities feel its effects much more severely. In Canada, Indigenous and low-income communities without the resources to escape or protect themselves against the disastrous effects of climate change bear the greatest burden of the crisis. The ability to evade wildfires or floods by car, or to survive deadly heat waves with air conditioning, is a potentially lifesaving privilege available only to those who can afford it. These same heat waves are destroying crops both in Canada and abroad, hiking up food prices and exacerbating Canada’s already high food insecurity and cost of living. Meanwhile, the damage to biodiversity, especially in Northern Canada, puts Indigenous communities at unique risk, as they rely directly on the land and its ecosystems for much of their food security. 

McGill—as an institution and as a student body—has the potential to hugely influence Quebec’s policies and initiatives towards climate action and climate justice. McGill has made important steps towards addressing its own complicity in the global carbon footprint by divesting from fossil fuels in December of 2023. While decisions like these deserve due credit, they are not enough; McGill’s vast room for improvement cannot be hidden under micro-scale band-aid initiatives, such as upgrading to an electric heating system or expanding campus green spaces. McGill continues to propagate environmental racism through expansions such as the New Vic Project, which is located on unceded Kanien’keha:ka territory and is potentially home to unmarked Indigenous graves. 

A recognition of global citizenship and a responsibility towards a healthy planet for future generations is the defining task of this generation. On the provincial level, Quebec must enact tangible policies which rethink climate issues from the bottom up, and construct infrastructure with the changing climate in mind first, and economic growth second. McGill must move away from performative greenwashing towards more divestment from companies invested in fossil fuels such as Royal Bank Canada. It must use its state-of-the-art STEM facilities and faculty to make progress towards new sustainable technologies, and it must work in any and all ways possible towards substantive reparations for the Indigenous communities whose land and history McGill has violently disrupted. Finally, the McGill student body must recognize and utilize its own power—the power that successfully pushed McGill once before to divest from fossil fuels—and find space in its activism every day for climate action and climate justice.

News, PGSS

PGSS Council votes on McGill-amended motion, removes mentions of Gaza and genocide

The Post-Graduate Students’ Society (PGSS) met on Oct. 2 for its second Council meeting of the Fall semester. Thirty-six voting members attended the meeting, surpassing quorum—one per cent of regular members, as laid out in PGSS’s Bylaws—for the first time since February of this year. As the previous Council meeting on Sept. 10 had failed to meet quorum and attendees were unable to vote on the motions discussed, this month’s meeting had a particularly long agenda. 

The hybrid meeting was held in Thomson House and on Zoom. The discussion primarily centred on three motions—5.4, 5.5, and 5.6—from the December 2023 Council meeting, which expressed solidarity with Palestine. After PGSS and McGill received a legal notice from an anonymous member on June 20 that asked both parties to abide by an interlocutory injunction, the McGill administration proposed modifications to the motions, which would uphold PGSS’ Memoranda of Understanding with the university. These amendments included changing the name of motion 5.4 from “Council stand in solidarity with Palestine” to “Motion on Divestment from Armaments and Efforts to Promote Peace,” and removing words such as “Gaza,” and amending mentions of “genocide” to say “war.” 

Many members abstained from voting on Motion 5.4. During the discussion, Member Services Officer Ambre Lambert offered insight on the importance for PGSS members to be familiar with the motions before voting as approving or rejecting them is their choice. She also added nuance to a previous discourse she held about advising voters to oppose Motion 5.4.

“I was encouraging students not to agree with the motion that was done last month [because the wording] was extremely restrictive and was losing the sense of the motions,” Ambre said.  “I do think they are still losing some of their original meanings but I also think that I don’t know if we’ll reach an agreement with McGill [if we keep on debating].”

Some attendees voiced concerns that abstaining could lead to commissioners reentering negotiations—and even arbitration—with McGill over the wording of these motions. Councillors also raised questions throughout the discussion about adding context around McGill’s “watered-down” wording as Lambert put it. 

The conversation turned to motion 5.6, originally called ‘Motion to support and encourage [Post-graduate Student Associations] PGSAs to address the ongoing genocide in Gaza and investigate their ties to settler-colonial violence and genocide against the Palestinian people.’ It was amended to be called ‘Motion to support and uphold the academic freedom and rights of freedom of expression, conscience, and assembly of PGSS members.’ Brenagh Rapoport from the Organization of Urban Planning Students highlighted the aspect of the motion that ensures PGSAs cannot condemn, penalize, or restrict students’ discussions or actions.

“Protecting our students from backlash from the university for [engaging in meaningful] action is really important [and] a material commitment to students not receiving [sanctions] for expressing opinions and engaging in political action […] is a concern for people in my department,” Rapoport said. 

Councillors stressed that work still needs to be done to ensure students know their rights to freedom of expression. In response, University Affairs Officer Racchana Ramamurthy suggested adding shorter versions of the Code of Student Conduct with important points on myCourses.

In the end, abstention was disregarded, and Motions 5.4, 5.5, and 5.6, all passed—with 24 votes in favour of 5.4 and 5.6, and 17 votes for 5.5. 

For the last part of the meeting, Shona Watt, Associate Director of Sustainability Projects Fund (SPF) presented the SPF, which funds environmental projects on campus. Since its founding in 2010, the initiative has allocated over $12.6 million CAD in funding to 370 sustainability-related projects. According to Watt, the SPF is the largest dedicated campus sustainability fund of its kind in Canada.

Moment of the meeting: 

With the meeting’s extended agenda, the Council put forth a vote to extend the meeting to 8:30 p.m.. While 10 members voted in favour of continuing, 15 voted against. As a result, the meeting was not prolonged and the remaining agenda items will be postponed to future meetings.

Soundbite: 

“It is 100 per cent your choice as a councillor and you have absolutely that option, to not accept those changes that are basically a compromise between us and McGill.” — Ambre Lambert, Member Services Officer, on voting members’ right to abstain on approving Motion 5.4.

Commentary, Opinion

McGill is leading in research but lagging in workers’ rights

McGill is continually ranked as a top research university in Canada, recently coming in second for medical research. Despite this status, the school consistently fails to adequately recognize the rights of its workers. From pushing its teaching assistants (TAs) to a hard strike for livable wages to undermining its law professors’ union, McGill has time and again resisted progress that would lead to fair labour practices. 

How can a university be leading in research while lagging so severely in workers’ rights? Does top-ranked research come at the expense of workers’ rights, or even worse, in spite of them?

If McGill aims to maintain its prestigious ranking, it must prioritize the needs of its TAs and professors—the driving force behind its research output. This became especially clear after the Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM) strike in March 2024. After nearly a year of McGill disregarding AGSEM’s demands, the TA strike began. Even as the work stoppage unfolded, the university resisted reasonable requests for a month before finally conceding to a deal. Some of these included a wage increase, demands for more say in Teaching Support budgets and the working hours of TAs, as well as special protection for transgender TAs and support for mental health. 

Some might argue that because of McGill’s high ranking and reputation, it is justified in having high demands of workers, or that these demands contribute towards McGill’s prestige. But many TAs have said that, under these conditions, they have been forced to sacrifice their quality of work to get by. If graduate students are struggling with mental health, overloaded with extra hours, working a second job, or worried about paying rent, they will not be able to produce the cutting-edge research that McGill boasts, or the high-quality education necessary to remain in the undergraduate rankings. 

McGill faces a stark choice: Support its workers or forfeit the benefits of their labour. The university cannot expect excellence while its staff struggles to make ends meet.

A study by Northwestern University shows that productivity increases with minimum wage—that higher pay will lead to better output. So what is standing in the way of McGill prioritizing its workers when it is likely to benefit the TAs and the university alike? 

While the AGSEM strike was significant progress—offering TAs a 15.5 per cent raise over four years—for McGill Law professors, things are different.

Before temporarily suspending their strike on Oct. 1, the Association of McGill Professors of Law (AMPL) was striking for better pay, for more of a say in the governance of the faculty, and for their right to unionize. McGill resisted their demands for months, taking actions to undermine the legitimacy of the union by legally challenging its certification, which was granted by Quebec in 2022. 

McGill’s actions were ruled illegal by the Quebec labour tribunal after two administrators attempted to undermine the union in communications to Law professors just before a critical strike vote. On Oct. 1, AMPL agreed to go back to teaching for now, after McGill threatened to cancel the semester if the strike continued.

Progress has been made since then, but not because of McGill’s support for unions—rather, because of AMPL’s tireless work for months on end. AMPL reached an agreement with McGill on Oct. 7, with McGill agreeing to drop its legal challenge of the union in exchange for AMPL negotiating collective agreements with two other unions in the Arts and Education faculties. Still, this decision took far too long to reach and shouldn’t have been challenged in the first place; it reflects McGill’s stubbornness and reluctance to prioritize constructive dialogue with its faculty and staff. 

So, can McGill balance its high rankings with low workers’ rights? Worker rights are non-negotiable, and McGill can no longer afford to ignore them. Silencing dissent only transforms isolated grievances into a unified call for change. The more the university resists, the stronger its workers’ resolve grows.

Science & Technology

Exploring galactic evolution from the Big Bang to the Milky Way

On Oct. 3, McGill’s Trottier Space Institute presented a public talk titled “From Clouds to Cosmic Giants: The formation and evolution of galaxies.” This event featured Tracy Webb, associate professor in McGill’s Department of Physics and observational astronomer, who discussed the development of galaxies from the Big Bang to the present day. The talk also highlighted current innovations aimed at demystifying our understanding of these complex systems. 

Webb began her talk by discussing the galaxy we call home: The Milky Way. Amongst the whopping hundreds of billions of galaxies in our observable universe, Webb emphasized that the Milky Way is just one of many. 

“[The Milky Way] is sort of a regular galaxy in a regular group of galaxies, nothing really special […] except that it is home to us,” Webb stated in her talk. 

The composition of galaxies 

Galaxies are primarily composed of a large oval called the dark matter halo, which forms the body of a galaxy and accounts for most of its mass. At the center of the halo lies the bulge and disk—made up of stars and surrounded by what’s called the “interstellar medium.” At the very centre of the galaxy resides a supermassive black hole. 

“A galaxy has a total mass of [around] 1 to 2 trillion times the mass of our own sun, and that mass is made up of dark matter, which makes up about 90 per cent of the galaxy. Then we have gas and dust making up the next component, around seven per cent, and stars […] only make up about three per cent,” Webb explained. 

Galaxy classification 

After focusing on the components of a galaxy, Webb shifted to a broader topic: How galaxies are classified. Edward Hubble, astronomer and namesake of the Hubble Space Telescope, came up with a simple classification of galaxies based solely on their shape, known as the Hubble Tuning Fork. The first type of galaxy is elliptical galaxies, and the second is spiral galaxies. 

“There’s a whole bunch of galaxies that don’t fit into the Hubble Tuning Fork, [which we] call irregular galaxies,” Webb clarified. 

Galaxy formation and growth mechanisms

According to the Big Bang Theory—which is the idea that the universe began as a single point and has been perpetually expanding ever since—galaxies formed approximately one billion years after the beginning of the universe. Galaxies first coalesce as dense packs of gas and grow larger over time by merging with other galaxies. The Milky Way is on a collision course with our neighbouring galaxy, Andromeda, although the impact is still a few billion years away. 

Apart from collisions, galaxies also grow by absorbing the cosmic material around them. A more obscure growth mechanism of galaxies has to do with the supermassive black holes at their center, which are suspected of regulating galaxy growth during this process.

The future of telescopes 

Webb then moved on to talking about the use of telescopes in studying galaxies. When observing galaxies, telescopes behave as time machines. The images we see of galaxies actually show how they appeared billions of years ago since the further away they are, the longer it takes for light to travel to us. This means that when observing the Andromeda galaxy, we’re observing it 2.5 million years ago, and when observing the furthest galaxies visible through the Hubble Telescope, we’re actually observing them 13 billion years in the past.

The James Webb Telescope is a recent telescope project launched into space that surpasses the Hubble Space Telescope in terms of its observational capabilities. Another upcoming project is the Square Kilometer Array—an international effort to build the world’s largest radio telescope array, which is a network of separate telescopes located across the globe that operate as one. 

While many advancements are underway to deepen our understanding of the galaxy, much is left uncertain. The more knowledge we gain on galaxy formation, the better we will understand how the world we live in came to be.

Arts & Entertainment, Music

The stories and sounds of Montreal’s Black women DJs

Montreal’s cultural fabric is shaped by its artists. From writers and sculptors to fashion designers and chefs, there is a scene for everyone. When it comes to musical history, the city’s Black communities hold great significance. The music scene extends to DJing, with events like Igloofest and Aire Commune, along with collectives like Boiler Room, showcasing its vibrancy and diversity. Given this cultural backdrop, I sought to explore the experiences of Black women DJs whose perspectives are underrepresented despite their significant contributions. I interviewed three Black women DJs to understand what the art means to them—and how their identities influence their artistry. 

Drawing on her Cameroonian heritage and upbringing in France, Inès, who performs under the name Ms Baby, skillfully blends traditional and contemporary African and European electronic influences with the richness of popular African American music. The result is a sound that resonates beautifully within Montreal’s diverse landscape. Playing African music, especially traditional tunes, holds immense significance, as countless African artists have shaped music globally while going unrecognized for it. For Inès, it’s not just about playing songs; it’s her mission to give those artists their flowers, honouring and celebrating their contributions to the music world. 

Another voice in the scene is Asha, a Toronto-born DJ with Guyanese parents who entered the electronic music scene after living in Berlin. Like Inès, she noted that many DJs draw from diverse global influences, but the creators behind the sounds are often overlooked. She emphasized that DJing involves much more than playing music; it requires research and proper crediting of the artists.

“If there’s one thing I wish people understood better, it’s how much weight the music you play carries,” Asha explained. “When you take on the role of a DJ, you’re not just spinning tracks; you’re also a curator of culture and history.” 

Asha noted that this awareness is not only about respecting artistry but also about recognizing the political implications of music selection. “In my opinion, DJing is political,” she asserted. “It’s about acknowledging the producers you support and the cultural energies you’re promoting.”

For Janelle (IAMNOTMYHISTORY), the music she chooses to play is largely influenced by her Trinidadian background. When asked about her DJ name, Janelle shared that it reflects her awareness of how Black history is often simplified or distorted in educational contexts. She pointed to the importance of recognizing the depth and complexity of her heritage beyond a single narrative. 

Janelle emphasized that her name is also a personal declaration. “I don’t want to be defined by my past,” she explained. “I am not just my history; I am so much more.” Her perspective embodies her desire to remain present and open to growth, allowing her to evolve as an artist and an individual. “While my background informs my music, I want to continue creating and exploring new avenues without being confined by what I’ve already accomplished,” she said. 

All three women highlighted the unique challenges of being Black women DJs in a male-dominated industry. Inès emphasized the importance of representation, noting that seeing other Black women DJing fostered a sense of belonging. She described the frustrating expectation for Black women DJs to simply be grateful to be given opportunities, which often results in low performance expectations and relegation to less prestigious slots. Despite these obstacles, the three women expressed empowerment in their journeys, citing the joy of sharing music in the city as a key source of their success.

As Black women artists like Inès, Asha, and Janelle navigate the complexities of being minorities in the DJ scene, they are carving out spaces that honour their heritage while also embracing their multifaceted identities. In a city where a shared love of music fosters creativity and collaboration, these DJs remind us that the past does not define one’s future; instead, it serves as a foundation to build limitless possibilities. As they continue to break barriers and inspire the next generation, the unique contributions of Black women DJs enrich Montreal’s artistic landscape, ensuring that their voices are heard in the sound of the city.

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