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Science & Technology

Precision physical activity: A prescription for exercising in older adults

How many times have you committed to a new exercise program, only to dejectedly realize one day that a month has gone by, and you have completely forgotten about all those overly ambitious resolutions you had made? Fear not, this article’s goal is not to guilt trip you, but rather to highlight the need for personalized interventions that enhance physical activity according to individual needs.

In a world where physical inactivity affects an estimated 1.4 billion adults, addressing this global health challenge requires innovative strategies. Canada, with its rapidly aging population, faces a unique challenge: How to keep the baby boomer generation active and healthy after retirement.

Adrián Noriega de la Colina, a CIHR-Institute of Aging Fellow at McGill’s Neurological Institute-Hospital, and his team tackle this issue by proposing a roadmap that aims to decrease physical inactivity and reinforce adherence to consistent exercise in their recent publication.

“Of course pharmacological interventions are important, but I think one of the best and cheapest ways to enact prevention is through physical activity,” Noriega de la Colina said in an interview with The Tribune.

However, the traditional approach of general exercise guidelines often falls short, particularly for individuals with chronic conditions. Current clinical guidelines, such as the recommendation of 150 minutes of moderate exercise per week, result from population averages that do not take into account individuals’ diverse circumstances.

“There’s something that we [as physicians and researchers] are missing: We are either not communicating correctly, or we are not giving the patients what they need,” Noriega de la Colina noted.

Precision physical activity (PPA), which aims to tailor physical activity recommendations to individual needs by considering factors like age, sex, existing health conditions, and even living environments, is one solution. 

Noriega de la Colina and his team created a roadmap that provides guidance for the implementation of PPA. The starting point would be deep baseline phenotyping for a detailed understanding of an individual’s characteristics and limitations, thereby ensuring the maximal possible health benefits.

“A phenotype is a conjunction of characteristics that define an individual, such as age and sex, socio-demographics, any comorbidities, [and] baseline level of activity.” Noriega de la Colina said.

The collection of multiple phenotypes gives rise to clustered profiles, which doctors then compare against an individual’s unique characteristics. Clinicians can then provide more appropriate interventions to optimize health benefits based on what profile matches a patient’s characteristics best.

Clinicians can then provide more appropriate interventions to optimize health benefits based on the best match between a patient’s characteristics and the profile  multiple phenotypes

According to Noriega de la Colina, the proposed blueprint includes the following elements: How to start an intervention, how to maintain an individual’s engagement, and their preference of physical activity. All three components should be informed by factors such as socio-demographics, personal characteristics such as health conditions, and psychological determinants from perceived-barriers and self-motivation to one’s social and physical environment.

“So this [paper] is a framework for others to build on. And the idea would be that, through open science, we can collaborate more because the amount of data that you need for precision medicine is enormous,” Noriega de la Colina said.

PPA represents a paradigm shift in how clinicians and researchers approach the promotion of physical activity overall, particularly in aging populations. The ultimate goal is to provide customized therapy, where prescriptions for physical activity are as tailored as pharmaceutical treatments.

“Instead of saying ‘Go and walk 150 minutes and good luck,’ it would be better to be able to prescribe something much more suited for your needs,” Noriega de la Colina said. “Behavioural studies show that individuals have increased levels of compliance and adherence when they know specifically what they have to do.”

Lacrosse, Sports

Know Your Team: McGill’s Women’s Lacrosse

Given its Indigenous origins and role as the national sport of Canada, lacrosse holds great significance for many, including players on McGill’s women’s lacrosse team. Co-captain Rachel Anderson and teammates Gemma Hauser and Olivia Maracle-Hill sat down with //The Tribune// to discuss their connection to the sport and the importance of its Indigenous history for them as Indigenous players. 

The 2023-24 season was filled with great improvements for the team, both on and off the field. They raised over $4,000 in their McGill24 campaign, received their first sponsorship deal with EY consulting firm, and earned a spot playing in the Ontario University Association (OUA) lacrosse league next season. 

The Martlets’ entrance into the OUA was largely due to their on-field performance throughout the 2023-24 season. The team played against universities in Ontario and the United States. One of their competitors, the Queen’s University Gaels, recognized the Martlets’ improvements during a match-up against McGill this season, indicating that they, as a club team, could compete with the best.  

“We actually got praise from the Queen’s lacrosse coach, which was huge, because they won the OUA last season and defeated all the other teams in Ontario,” Anderson told //The Tribune//. “When we heard this praise, I think [it] was a turning point for us. 

The team attributes much of their success to head coach Duncan Lovell. Lovell grew up playing lacrosse, eventually playing for St. Francis Xavier University. Given his experience with the men’s game––despite its different style of play and greater physicality––Lovell provides the team with a competitive edge while adapting to the women’s game. Outside Lovell’s expertise, Anderson and Hauser explain that much of the team’s improvement stems from their sheer dedication and willingness to show up and compete at every practice. 

“[Compared to last season,] it just feels like everyone relies on each other more, and it’s less like you’re dragging yourself to practice because it’s an obligation,” Hauser said. 

Lacrosse is more than just a game for the Martlets team. The sport holds a deeper historical and personal significance for many players.

“My own experience as an Indigenous lacrosse player has been marked by the profound connection I feel to my heritage through this sport,” Anderson said. “Lacrosse is not just a game, but a means to express our identity and honour our ancestors.”

Anderson reflects on the knowledge of her community, emphasizing the ingrained significance that lacrosse holds for many Indigenous peoples. The three teammates explain that the origin and significance of lacrosse lay deep within Indigenous history. Maracle-Hill describes lacrosse as divinely gifted by the Creator to the Haudenosaunee, which is ancestrally played and used for healing purposes. At the game’s best, players use the sport to honour the land and their ancestors’ legacy: Acting as a way of establishing Indigenous sovereignty and upholding Indigenous ways of life and being. 

The players expanded on not only an issue of gender inequity within lacrosse, but also a disconnect between McGill’s stated mission of truth and reconciliation, and the role that recognizing both men’s and women’s lacrosse plays in moving toward this goal. 

“The men’s [Redbirds] lacrosse team having their heritage night and having dancers and speakers and a lot of Indigenous involvement in this one game, working towards truth and reconciliation [was amazing, but] I don’t even think it would be feasible for us to do something like that,” Maracle-Hill said. 
With the lack of funding and support from both the McGill administration and McGill Athletics, the Martlets feel as though the university is doing them a disservice. The team emphasizes that McGill has the opportunity to work on their stated mission to “establish McGill University as a global leader in post-secondary institutions for reconciliation with Indigenous peoples” through the game of lacrosse, particularly with the sport being played on unceded territory of the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) territory. The team hopes that if the university were to bring greater awareness to the Martlets lacrosse team––through advertising and funding––they would not only be able to thrive in the OUA but demonstrate the significance of their sport because as Anderson says “[lacrosse] is more than just a game to us.”

Arts & Entertainment, Gaming, Internet

‘Été’ paints a portrait of a livable, walkable, and lovely Montreal

For many, thinking about video games elicits images of shooters, strategy titles, stressful levels, and intense gameplay. Été isn’t that. Developed by Montreal-based indie studio Impossible, the new PC game is all about relaxing. The player assumes the role of a budding painter who has just moved to Montreal for the summer and explores the city, paints watercolours, sells artwork, and decorates their apartment. The Tribune sat down with Lazlo Bonin, Founder and Creative Director at Impossible and a developer of Été, to discuss how the game came about. 

Été’s origins

Bonin’s inspiration for Été didn’t come from other video games; instead, he drew on some unlikely sources.

“One thing that has been inspiring me a lot is the I Spy books,” Bonin explained. “I just love the whimsy of Walter Wick, the photographer [.…] There’s such a joy in finding all the elements in those pages. And I think that’s kind of what was the inspiration for this [game].”

By the time development started in early 2020, Bonin and the initial team had already invested years of effort in creating a proof-of-concept and securing funding.

“The first prototype for this game was in 2016, maybe even 2015. [….] There was a long period between 2016 and 2020,” Bonin explained. “Trying to get funding basically and pitching to different investors or public funds to get someone interested in this weird, poetic wandering game where you’re a painter [in] Montreal. [They] didn’t bite so much for a little while.”

A calm atmosphere

Été has been designed from the ground up to create a relaxing and inviting atmosphere. Unlike other games, there’s no way to fail, and the progression system lacks any rigidity. The main goal is to explore the city and create paintings you’re proud of.

“We don’t want people feeling like they have to work towards a specific goal,” Bonin elaborated. “What you’re really getting out of making all your paintings [and] selling your artworks at the auction is money. And money buys you decorations at various little shops you find toward the city. And you can use those to decorate your apartment and your studio space. So that’s like the ultimate goal—which is also just like a very open-ended and creative goal.”

It’s a simple life. Far from finals and schoolwork, Été is an escape to a world where people can make a comfortable living, interact with their community, and make art. 

“Video games are often power fantasies that will give you guns or superpowers or whatever else. And obviously, that’s not what we’re doing. But we are still creating some kind of fantasy,” Bonin explained. “What is the ideal life of a wandering painter in Montreal? Cheap rent, walkable cities, people who pay you for your art, [and] you’re right next door to the coolest cafe in town and the cutest market.”

Showcasing Montreal

Having grown up in the Mile End, Bonin felt that Montreal would be the ideal backdrop for the game.

“I just love the city,” Bonin said. “I absolutely love the architecture, and […] I love the scale of Montreal as a city. I love the density; the duplexes and triplexes create these small pockets of space and community.”

Bonin mentioned that if he had not become a game developer, he would have considered pursuing urban planning. With Été, he’s able to blend both passions. Inspired by planning principles from books like A Pattern Language, Bonin’s focus is always on creating a human-scale, lively, and cozy version of Montreal.

“The scale of the city and the locations we make have very little room for cars. It’s very bike- and pedestrian-oriented,” he said. “If we would make streets to scale, we would realize that our playtesters, and ourselves, would just be kind of anxious while standing in the middle of the street, even though there were no cars coming.”

Été is slated to come out in 2024 on Steam, though no specific release date has been confirmed. The game will be available in both English and French. Currently, the game can be added to users’ wishlists.

Student Life

Farewell to The Tribune: Messages from our graduating editors

Suzanna Graham, Arts and Entertainment Editor: Three years ago, I felt disconnected from McGill, Montreal, and my fellow students. In the last week of my first year, a friend of a friend suggested I write for a school paper. The second week of second year, I ran from class to make the Zoom pitch meeting on time. Amid a pandemic, The Tribune gave me a lifeline to ground myself in an unfamiliar world. I will forever be grateful for those who have edited my writing, those I’ve written alongside, and those whose writing I’ve had the privilege to edit myself. It’s been a wild ride. From writing about human-weighted blankets to organizing a journalism conference to crafting a two-page feature, I can confidently say I am so lucky to have had this experience. Arts and Entertainment is, for many, a gateway to writing for The Tribune. It’s accessible—everyone feels like they can talk about their favourite movie or concert. Then they realize it’s not so scary to cover a cool science paper they read or a basketball game they’re going to. And some of us? Some of us never left A&E. I discovered that writing can be vulnerable and political, solemn and satirical. It’s bittersweet to move on, but I’ll never forget what I learned here. It’s been a pleasure to write with you all. 

Lily Cason, Managing Editor: I first started writing for The Tribune’s News section during my first year at McGill. It was during the pandemic, so I’d sit on my bed in my tiny first-year apartment and Zoom into the section meetings where the editors would have creatively figured out ways to continue pitching news stories despite the empty, quiet campus. Although it was hard to feel much of a sense of community that year, writing fostered a new sense of purpose and passion in me, which I needed more than I knew. Ever since then, The Tribune has defined my university experience; it’s been a place of discussion, a hands-on journalism school, and a site of community. The people who work here make it what it is: The dedication, care, and thoughtfulness that writers and editors bring is palpable, and it’s been such a pleasure to get to work with this team—many of whom I now consider close friends—week after week. Our coverage is often heavy, and the past four years have been invigorating, exhausting, uplifting, disheartening, and wonderful all at once. I have seen The Tribune transform and am so proud of where it has ended up. I can’t wait to see how the paper continues to grow, and I have so much faith in the passionate, fiercely hard-working, and immensely kind people who will be running the show next year. 

Matthew Molinaro, Editor-in-Chief: I cannot imagine my university experience without The Tribune. The lessons I learned here easily transcend the lecture hall. The people I met here shared my love for storytelling and embraced my memes, calls for punchier writing, and active disdain of the passive voice and certain words (myriad, plethora). From the lively A&E Zoom calls of 2020-2021 to the reckonings that led to our name change and anti-oppressive mandate, I have cherished this paper’s ability to forge community and conversation. My mentors and colleagues here inspired me, and I can only hope that I have lived up to their faith in me with each edit, piece, and issue. Thank you for inciting the fire under my feet. The collaborative improvisation in shaping a story, the post-production day debriefs, the glimmer in the eyes of someone newly marked by curiosity or an idea—the atmosphere electrifies and sustains our vision. It is an honour and a privilege to lead this dynamic team of writers, editors, and creatives. The struggle for justice and liberation on our campus and in our world continues, and we must be responsible to history and the demands of the present. Speaking truth to power remains the way forward.

Isaiah Albert-Stein, Opinion Editor: For most of my time at McGill, I would read The Tribune and tell myself that maybe one day I would submit an article—but probably not. I saw how much my editor and staff writer friends enjoyed working for the newspaper, but I couldn’t imagine why I would want to write more on top of all the essays I was already writing for my classes. Then, in my second-to-last semester, I finally took the plunge and worked on an article. I realized how much I had been missing out on opportunities to write about something that felt immediate, personal, and important. When editor applications went out it felt like a no-brainer to apply, and I’m so grateful to the team at The Tribune, especially the Opinion section, because the work I’ve done here this semester has been one of my favourite parts of my university experience. It’s never too late to try something new, especially if that thing is working at the Trib!

Julie Ferreyra, Sports Editor: After months of suggestions from a friend (veteran Tribune editor and enthusiast Anoushka), I finally set foot in a Sports pitch meeting in September 2022 and found myself covering a double-header soccer game. I came to the paper desperately needing something to fill my time, and Sports coverage ended up electrifying me. I eventually applied to be an editor and found myself with a never-ending list of projects and ideas for the section I had grown so fond of, as well as an enduring passion for artistic swimming (check our team out; they’re really good!). The Tribune gave me the space to grow and evolve as a writer and person—for that, I will be eternally grateful. As someone who always preferred the social, community aspect of playing sports to the competition, the Sports section was a safe haven. I hope to have helped foster, even on a small scale, a school spirit, or at least to have helped people rally behind our teams and athletes. To the Editors, Staff Writers, Contributors, and silent enjoyers of the Sports section—thank you for your time and passion and for making the Sports section what it is. To my fellow Sports Editors and Tillie, thank you for your patience in dealing with a recurrently broken keyboard and making this year incredible. 

Arian Kamel, Managing Editor: I honestly don’t know how I ended up joining The Tribune. I had just arrived in Montreal, tired from rescuing my family from the wreckage of a destroyed sinking battleship, and knew I wanted a fresh change of pace. And that’s exactly what The Tribune gave me, a place where I could drop my bag and spend hours talking to some of the loveliest people I’ve ever met, each with their own unique set of passions and dreams, as deep as my love for non-sinking battleships. 

Sara Escallon, Sports Editor: It had never occurred to me to join The Tribune before December. I had never written an article, rarely picked up a copy, and never truly thought about engaging in student journalism. I was so focused on school and my varsity sport that I could not envision possibilities beyond it on campus. When my world was turned upside down, I was devastated and utterly lost. Eventually, I realized that I needed to do something: I needed to tell people what had happened, why it had happened, and advocate for the well-being of student-athletes everywhere. It took me over a year to find the words and the mental capacity to write my story. I ended up here totally by accident, thanks to Tillie’s support and persistence, and the Editorial Board who took a chance on me. Joining the paper proved to be the best possible way to round out my final semester at McGill. I am deeply grateful for the community I have found here, including my fellow sports editor Julie and the whole team at The Tribune who put out powerful, passionate work week after week. Thank you for the platform you have given me. Thank you for the community. I love soccer and I love writing about soccer.  Each year at McGill has been totally different than the last one for me. I am so grateful that The Tribune has capped off my undergraduate experience. 

Zoe Dubin, Design Editor: I am forever indebted to Arian Kamel for reaching out and asking if I had the availability to join The Tribune. I had just crashed quite a large boat into what seemed to be a family-oriented cruise ship and was simply looking for a place to hide out for a bit. The Tribune has allowed me to explore both my scientific interests and my passion for intuitive design, and I’m very grateful for my time here, however short.  

Commentary, Opinion

McGill’s policy on social injury leaves few options for protesters

On March 28, McGill’s Provost and Executive Vice-President (Academic) informed the campus community via email that “some protestors and picketers again attempted to disrupt University activities” and that “police made at least one arrest and the university has chosen to press charges.”

Reports suggest the disruptive actions were carried out in solidarity with McGill students engaged in a protracted hunger strike over the university’s position on the violence currently being inflicted on people in Gaza.

Addressing “those who choose to engage in protests or pickets going forward,” the Provost warned: “You have a range of legitimate, legal, peaceful options for raising awareness of your views,” and threatened that “where other options are chosen instead, consequences will follow.”

What kinds of “legitimate, legal, peaceful options” does McGill’s governance structure make available for the specific concerns expressed by these protestors?

These courageous activists are not seeking simply to “raise awareness” of their views (state-sanctioned killing and starvation of innocents because of their ethnicity and where they live is not something about which one has “views”). They are, instead, trying to persuade the Board of Governors to withdraw McGill’s investments from companies they believe “directly or indirectly support Israel’s apartheid state and its ongoing genocide against Palestinians” and to cut McGill’s ties with the Israeli state and Israeli universities. 

Under the circumstances, this is not an outrageous request. Yet the university’s own mechanism for receiving expressions of concern about its investments all but guarantees the Board will never consider it.

The university’s investments are subject to review by the Committee on Sustainability and Social Responsibility (CSSR), which is mandated to ensure McGill does not invest in companies whose activities result in “grave injurious impact,” including those which “violate or frustrate the enforcement of rules of domestic or international law intended to protect individuals against deprivation of health, safety, or basic freedoms, or to protect the natural environment.”

Is petitioning the CSSR one of the “legitimate, legal, peaceful options” available to the hunger strikers and their supporters (1200 signatures, and counting), an institutional process through which they can express concerns about the role played by companies in which McGill invests in the grave injuries being committed against the people of Gaza and the West Bank?

As it turns out, not really.

An August 2023 revision to the CSSR’s terms of reference stipulated that “a legal person [i.e., a corporation] shall not be deemed to cause ‘social injury’ simply because it does business with other legal persons which are themselves engaged in socially injurious activities.” 

Under this provision, if a group of McGill students discovered the university was investing in a company that provided support to Hamas in its horrific October 7 attack on Israeli citizens, they would have a hard time bringing this before the Board as a potential violation of the university’s policy on socially responsible investing.

Sadly, hypothetical examples are not necessary. We have before us an actual case in which a significant portion of the McGill community believes that companies in which the university invests are profiting from activities implicated in the killing, maiming, forced starvation, and displacement of thousands of innocent people in Gaza. Consideration of these claims and related evidence is deliberately undermined by the rules of the very body that supposedly exists to decide such grave questions on behalf of the university.

The option to express these concerns by “legitimate, legal, peaceful” means in a forum where this could have real impact has been effectively foreclosed. As a result, we are left with the heartbreaking spectacle of McGill students starving themselves and getting arrested, just to get the university’s attention.

The communique sent to the McGill community referred to McGill’s “//esprit rassembleur//,” a recent coinage intended to evoke a special McGillness supposedly at risk due to the unruly activities of human rights advocates, trade unionists, and the Gouvernement du Québec. But if there is a threat to McGill’s //esprit rassembleur//, it is not the alleged excesses of passionate protest, labour organization, and cynical public policy. It is university governance procedures that leave serious people without genuine options for bringing legitimate concerns to forums where consequential decisions are being made.

If the university’s administration is truly concerned about the political climate on campus, it could start by asking the Board to rescind its prejudicial definition of social injury so that the options available to people acting in good faith are real, instead of imaginary.  

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

The surrealism of ‘Problemista’ elevates its poignancy

Scored with futuristically unsettling synth melodies and interjecting choral staccatos, narrator and famed arthouse actress Isabella Rosellini relays the complicated and costly process of acquiring a sponsored visa in the United States in Problemista. What begins visually as a cramped, two-room equation expands into a maze-like structure of trapdoors, fluorescent lights, obscured keys, and stairs of beige file cabinets. Protagonist Alejandro (Julio Torres), or “Ale” for short, steers aimlessly through this dreamlike sequence in a desperate search, traversing through the maze of the American immigration system. He finds himself in a miserable catch-22: The system demands he pay immense fees to be allowed to work, yet he must work to acquire the necessary funds to settle these payments. As Rosellini simply states, “The maze is impossible to navigate.”

Screenwriter and director Julio Torres’s surrealist comedy Problemista, released worldwide in cinemas on March 14, poignantly explores the narratives of the contemporary American Dream through a humorous lens brimming with fantastical elements—both understated and absurd. The film was partially inspired by Torres’s experiences as an artist immigrating from El Salvador; Alejandro travels to the States in hopes of becoming a world-famous toy designer for Hasbro. In his application to the company, Alejandro monotonously details a few of his ideas, including a Barbie whose fingers are covertly crossed behind her back, creating intrigue and drama in the dreamhouse, and a snake that bungees out from its can with a sign that reads, “I’m sorry, I was trapped in this can and scaring you was the only way out.” The absurd specificity of this dialogue, though delivered lifelessly via Alejandro’s webcam video, is only a minuscule drop of this film’s unabashed hilarity. 

As he waits for Hasbro’s response, Alejandro begins working in the archives of FreezeCorp, a lab caring for cryogenically frozen corpses. But Ale finds himself in a limbo between visa sponsors after being fired for presumed medical malpractice; onscreen, the grains of his metaphorical 30-day hourglass begin seeping out in the vast backrooms that stack thousands of these looming timers in their dank shelves. Eccentric art critic Elizabeth, played by the magnificently commanding Tilda Swinton, dominates the screen in every scene she’s in. She looms over everyone with her crimped and dyed red hair, avant-garde clothing choices that seemingly caricature every New York art enthusiast, and intimidating attitude and verbal assaults on everyone she encounters. Elizabeth enlists Alejandro’s help in curating a show dedicated to the legacy of her artist husband, now cryogenically frozen but once known for his beautifully tragic and emotionally transcendent egg paintings. In return, she promises to be his sponsor after the show’s success.

Alejandro soon learns how to navigate the intricacies of the contemporary art world, while simultaneously taming Elizabeth’s temper as he organizes her late husband’s show. With Elizabeth’s reluctance to sponsor him and the departure of her paid intern Bingham (James Scully), who leaves after receiving a Guggenheim grant for “being cute in the arts,” Alejandro turns to Craigslist for cash. The menacing Craigslist (Larry Owns) is a personified tentacled Ursula-inspired creature who offers jobs inspired by Torres’s actual experiences: Handing out hair salon promotions on the street or being a “cleaner” for a man who wishes to watch him.

Problemista achieves all that it sets out to, presenting pointed critiques of both the modern art world and the American immigration system. It parodies a world in which legacy is commodified and art becomes a product. While Torres’s narrative serves to highlight the injustices of the visa process, the film also embraces and celebrates the strengthening solidarity of the immigrant experience. Alejandro is only one of the many who risk their lives each year for opportunity in a new country, and this portrayal of the contemporary American Dream calls into question the term’s legitimacy in the first place. He presents his story through this absurd humour, because the world is absurd: It’s unforgiving, unjust, and arranged such that power is permanently reserved for those who already have it. 

It’s incredibly rare that a film can be so simultaneously hilarious and moving. Problemista’s surrealist elements transcend comedic tradition, becoming a memorable film from its authenticity and uniqueness.

Problemista is now playing in select theatres.

Behind the Bench, Sports

Breaking up with university sports: How I learned to love soccer again

From the moment my parents first put me into house league soccer at five, I was hooked. Growing up, I never thought about how my relationship with the sport would change. Girls my age seemed to follow a set path from elite youth development teams to university soccer. This path became more than a set of destinations to checkmark: It was an identity. 

I committed to McGill for soccer in the fall of my grade 12 year. My time playing for McGill was anxiety-inducing. I loved practicing and the thrill of game days but did not know how to stand up for myself against coaches who did not treat me with respect. In spite of this, my love for soccer only grew. I became a superfan of Liverpool Football Club; I was as obsessed with watching and reading about soccer as playing. I became even more determined to succeed, to recreate the happiness I used to feel every time my foot touched the ball. 

On my way to practice, I noticed men on the soccer fields near my house playing pick-up. I envied the fun they were having. Here I was, playing for a varsity team, yet the team brought me no joy. Although there were never any women there, I mulled over the possibility of approaching and asking to join in a game. After a particularly negative practice, I impulsively decided to go and play, promising myself I would play for an hour at most. I ended up playing for three. 

On the lighter days of the gruelling McGill pre-season, I began to play additional hours of pick-up soccer. The environment was a stark contrast to that of the McGill women’s soccer team. Most players were young men from North or West Africa, and the language of choice on the field was French. My years of French immersion came in handy, and my French improved rapidly. I was almost always the only woman and one of the few who had grown up in Canada.

When I was abruptly cut from McGill soccer at the start of my third year, I was devastated. Yet, this moment was the catalyst for rediscovering joy in my sport. Instead of crying to the coaches, I played pick-up soccer for two hours. 

For the rest of the semester, I would go to the field and play from whenever my last class of the day ended until 10 p.m. I felt totally lost, but I found solace in playing. Although my body ached from playing so intensely every day, I couldn’t resist the pull of the field. 

Certainly, some days were difficult. When my team would lose and have to wait on the sidelines for long stretches of time, I would question myself and what I was doing. Being the only woman on the field also wasn’t easy. Those who hadn’t seen me play would avoid being on my team and blame me if we lost. At first, I felt like an outsider, but I slowly gained everyone’s respect and affection, as they did mine. 

Eventually, I found a futsal team, Underdogs FC, that introduced me to the world of Quebec women’s soccer outside of the university sphere. Last weekend, we even won the Coupe de Québec, a trophy which eluded us by one goal in last year’s finals. But this year, we won against our arch-rivals, and I scored the winning goal in the last minute. 

While my journey has not been conventional, I would not change it for the world. It was painful to see the scores of Martlet soccer’s matches. Yet if I was still on that team, I would never have found this wonderful world, full of people very different from those at McGill. I would have never played futsal, or for Simcoe County Rovers, and I certainly would not have had the opportunity to be a Sports Editor at The Tribune. Now, I know how to set boundaries with coaches and recognize harmful behaviour. I know that mistreatment doesn’t have anything to do with how good you are: It is a failure of the individuals in power. I know that no journey is linear: There will always, always be avenues to play your sport if you just look hard enough. At the heart of all sports, there must be joy and respect. More than anything, I am grateful for the spaces where I have rediscovered my joy. 

McGill, News

Arts professors and faculty lecturers form McGill’s third and largest faculty union

With over 9,000 students and more than 300 staff members, the Faculty of Arts is the largest on campus. Despite its size, the Association of McGill Professors of the Faculty of Arts (AMPFA) surpassed the number of signed union cards necessary to file for certification at the Tribunal Administratif du Travail (TAT) within three months of active organizing. On April 4, a day after AMPFA submitted its application to the TAT, the McGill community gathered by the snowy stairs of the Arts Building to celebrate the launch of the union, which, if certified, will represent all tenure-stream professors and faculty lecturers. 

AMPFA emerges on the heels of other faculty unions forming at McGill. The Association of McGill Professors of Law (AMPL) won its battle for certification against the university in 2022 and the Association of McGill Professors of Education (AMPE) is currently fighting for certification at the TAT. Barry Eidlin, an associate professor in the Department of Sociology, attributes the current wave of faculty unionization at McGill to a broader labour movement against corporatization and precarious academic employment across North American universities. 

“There’s been [a] sort of corporatization of higher education, where the administration has […] cut itself off from the faculty, so this idea of […] collegiality and faculty governance has been eroded,” Eidlin said in an interview with The Tribune. “The shift in the university has been towards more casualized forms of academic labour, so more reliance on teaching assistants, on contingent […] course lectures and faculty lectures,[…] and that’s what’s been […] driving a lot of this push towards unionization [….] People are realizing that […] that these academic jobs are not as secure as they used to be [….] So what we’re trying to do is to make collegiality real again by levelling the playing field.”

AMPFA and AMPE diverge from their inaugural counterpart AMPL by including faculty lecturers in their membership. Sabeena Shaikh, a faculty lecturer at the Institute of Islamic Studies, spoke about the significance of her membership in a speech at AMPFA’s launch rally.

“[Faculty lecturers] have limited representation and influence in institutional governance and decision-making processes, affecting our ability to advocate for our own needs and interests within the academic community,” Shaikh said. “This union represents our collective voice advocating for fair compensation, job security benefits, and professional development opportunities. Together we can ensure that the contributions of all faculty members, regardless of tenure status, are valued and respected.” 

Representatives from other faculty, student, and staff unions on campus braved the elements in solidarity with AMPFA and its executives. A representative from the Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM), the union representing teaching assistants (TAs) and invigilators who are currently on strike, emphasized the need for cross-union solidarity in their address to the attendees.

“McGill seems to forget that this institution gets its name and recognition from the cutting-edge research and education that faculty and graduate students are provided every day and that […] the extremely high salaries of the administrators also profit from this daily work,” said the representative from AGSEM who wished to be unnamed. “We are showing now that McGill works because we do [….] We’re showing McGill that they will not divide us. Workers, faculty, and TAs will fight together for better working conditions, higher pay, pension benefits, [and] parental leaves among many other improvements to their contracts.”

In a post-rally interview with The Tribune, English professor and Interim Secretary of AMPFA Derek Nystrom echoed the rally’s speakers and chants—such as “Our unions, united, will never be defeated”—to highlight the timely nature of the Arts faculty’s unionization given the university’s response to the TA strikes. 

​“One of the things that I found again, and again […] is that when one of the unions on campus goes on strike, there’s this expectation that the faculty will pick up the slack, and in that way, put less pressure on the university to resolve the strike and bargain in good faith,” Nystrom told The Tribune.  “Becoming certified as a union will allow us to say, ‘We can’t be used as a pawn anymore,’ […] that we’re actually going to stand with our fellow workers and you can’t add to our workload in the expectation that we going to do the work for you.”

A previous version of this article stated that out of the three faculty unions, only AMPFA included faculty lecturers in its membership. In fact, both AMPFA and AMPE have applied to represent faculty lecturers in their bargaining units. The Tribune regrets this error.  

Behind the Bench, Sports

Julie’s hot takes

The PWHL Trophy should have a different name

Fans of the Professional Women’s Hockey League (PWHL) may have followed the unveiling of the new prize that will crown the team that wins the playoff, the best of the best of that year: The Walter Cup. Designed by renowned jeweler Tiffany & Co, the trophy is named after Mark and Kimbra Walter, the owners of the Mark Walter Group, who played an important financial role in backing the launch of the PWHL. The suggestion to name the trophy after Walter came from sports icon and PWHL advisory board member Billie Jean King. However, many were disappointed by the cup’s name. Despite the good intentions, the Walter Cup enshrines the corporate, financial side of the PWHL instead of honouring previous women’s ice hockey trailblazers who are the real reason for the league’s creation. While there is no doubt that the Mark Walter Group played a massive role in the creation of the PWHL, the decision not to honour women’s hockey players was a missed opportunity. 

This naming also breaks with trophy tradition in professional women’s hockey. In the Premier Hockey Federation (PHF), the predecessor of the PWHL, teams competed to win the Isobel Cup, named after Lady Isobel Gathorne-Hardy—one of the first women known to play ice hockey and daughter of Lord Stanley––the namesake of the National Hockey Leagues’ Stanley Cup. Teams competing in the Canadian Women’s Hockey League (CWHL) fought to win the Clarkson Cup, named after its commissioner, Governor General Adrienne Clarkson. Many optimists hope that names paying homage to women’s hockey trailblazers will be given to conference trophies or other awards, but regardless, the Walter Cup is not what we hoped PWHL teams would compete for. While it is understandable to celebrate and pay respect to a family that supported the PWHL’s creation, naming the trophy after them put an abrupt end to custom appreciated by fans and players alike. The Walter family could be honoured with another trophy or prize to celebrate their good deeds or generosity more akin to the Walter Group’s role in the PWHL.

There’s an abundance of outstanding women’s hockey players throughout the sport’s history: Figures such as Manon Rhéaume, Angela James, or even Canada’s beloved Marie-Philip Poulin easily could have inspired the name of the championship cup. After all, there is no reason a women’s hockey team should have to compete for a trophy named after a man. 

Rooting for loser teams

Coming to a new country, and delving into a new sports environment, people are often faced with a unique opportunity—choosing who to root for. While some might take the easy way out by bandwagoning onto the dominant teams at that time or choosing to support their local team; others may take the road less travelled and root for whichever team seems the most pathetic. 

After moving to Montreal from France, I had the unique opportunity to consider the pros and cons of rooting for each NHL team. As a lazy person, I would not want to go the extra mile and root for teams geographically inconvenient—bye-bye Anaheim, Colorado, and Seattle. We could have been a good pairing, but I will not stay up that late to follow games every week. With the Western Conference teams out of the running, I established my preference for Eastern teams—hello Metropolitan and Atlantic divisions. Could I choose to root for the Montreal Canadiens, for not only being in the city I live in, but also the only francophone team in the league––unless you count Ottawa? Yes, but I wanted to feel special and didn’t feel particularly drawn to the team. So, my devotion and support went to the next-best team, with the perfect ratio of competitiveness and charm—the Toronto Maple Leafs. The story of the first-round curse striking yet again the hopeful and passionate team during the 2021-22 season convinced me that this team deserved my devotion. The deep folklore surrounding the franchise sealed the deal for me. Supporting a seemingly hexed and forever unsuccessful team brings a new sense of camaraderie between supporters––having to constantly endure losses, and experiencing the highs and lows of having incredibly talented players yet overwhelmingly disappointing results.  
I encourage others to follow in my footsteps and find community in supporting not the most successful, or local team, but the one that promises to pull on your heartstrings as you tell your similarly deluded friends that this is our year.

Arts & Entertainment, Music

Melodies of a lifetime with Claude Dubois

As I pulled into the parking lot of Théâtre Hector-Charland on March 29, eager to see a Québecois musical legend perform, I noticed a bus transporting residents from a nearby retirement home had beat us there. This moment hinted at the crowd that I would find sitting inside, waiting for the imminent arrival of Claude Dubois, a ’70s and ’80s star of our province.

After we spent a few minutes of fidgeting in our seats, the 76-year-old singer arrived onstage, walked straight to the microphone as the crowd applauded, and sang as though it was as natural to him as breathing. He started with his composition “Le Labrador,” followed by a string of his sometimes groovy, sometimes melancholic classics, such as “Femme de rêve,” “Le mangeur d’étoiles,” and “Besoin pour vivre.” After a few songs, he took a few gulps from a bottle that he promised was filled with water, eliciting laughter throughout the whole audience.

Dubois isn’t a stranger to substances, having a complicated past with alcohol and heroin. While some of his less-than-responsible decisions may have sent him to jail a couple of times, nothing could stop the old man from singing his heart away—not even the cancer diagnosis that brought his career to a halt in 2016.

Halfway through the show, an elderly woman shouted, “We love you, Claude!” To which he answered, “I love myself, too.” Sometime later, the same woman exclaimed, “We’ve been following you for over 40 years!” He responded that he was impressed, as even he had a hard time following himself all those decades ago. 

A talented band accompanied Dubois—a drummer, a bassist, a pianist, and a guitarist—with whom he shared the spotlight on more than a few occasions. They harmoniously combined their individual strengths like pieces of a musical puzzle to complement Dubois’ work with jaw-dropping musical solos.

It was impossible not to feel nostalgic when he sang “J’ai souvenir encore,” a song in which he revisits his childhood growing up in the Old Port of Montreal. The artist expressed a common homesickness felt when thinking about those memories time has painted yellow— childhood feels like the happiest time of our lives, even when, looking back, it wasn’t always perfect. Notably, he mentioned the rats living in his house, and the sex workers waiting on the neighbouring streets. But the sweet, innocent melody that accompanied these lyrics made it clear that no amount of rodents could change the warmth with which he reflects on these golden memories. 

Claude Dubois received three standing ovations, one of them for his performance of “Si Dieu existe,” which he dedicated to all our lost loved ones, especially those who left us too early. The song describes a dying person’s soul slowly floating up toward the sky, seeing the world from above. In a room full of retirees, it not only stirred emotions but also highlighted a sense of solidarity among the audience. It was not difficult to spot more than a few wet pairs of eyes. When the crowd stood up from their seats to applaud the singer, there was a collective recognition of our interconnectedness, especially in moments of loss, and it was clear he had touched our hearts.

Many have an insatiable love for art that society often encourages us to set aside to pursue more professional, corporate careers. “Blues du businessman” perfectly describes this sentiment. It is an anthem of sorts for those who aspired to be artists, singers, or actors—for those who always feel like they could have been more, and who spend a few hours between nine to five daydreaming about who and where they would rather be. Though the feeling might be melancholic, the crowd found solace in the idea that Claude Dubois did become an artist—and a wonderful one at that. 

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