Latest News

Research Briefs, Science & Technology

How socioeconomic inequality accelerates musculoskeletal decline

by Nell Pollak on

More in Research Briefs:

As we get older, our muscles and bones gradually weaken, a progression that can lead to falls, fractures, and a devastating cycle of hospitalization and physical decline. But not everyone experiences this decline at the same rate—social and economic conditions over a lifetime can profoundly shape how the body ages, influencing access to nutrition, physical activity, and preventive health care. New research co-published by Gustavo Duque, the Dr. Joseph Kaufmann Chair in Geriatric Medicine and professor in McGill’s Department of Medicine, suggests that a patient’s position on the socioeconomic ladder may play a significant role in how quickly that deterioration occurs—and that the disadvantage begins well before a patient ever reaches a hospital.

The study examines the relationship between socioeconomic status (SES) and bone, muscle, and physical function in 300 community-dwelling adults aged 50 and older in the metropolitan region of Melbourne, Australia.  Researchers measured five indicators of SES—education, income, employment, health care card ownership, and area-level disadvantage—against outcomes including bone mineral density, muscle mass, grip strength, gait speed, and leg power.

Notably, the researchers found that participants who completed post-secondary education had significantly higher bone mineral density, greater muscle mass, stronger handgrip strength, faster walking speed, and greater leg power than those with less education. Higher income and possessing a private health care card—as opposed to a government health card—were similarly associated with better outcomes across most measures. 

Duque said in an interview with The Tribune that the findings confirmed what the research team had long suspected.

“People with lower levels of income and lower levels of education […] were the ones who showed the worst situation in terms of muscle and bone,” Duque said.

One unexpected finding is that employed participants showed different patterns of deterioration, regardless of salary. Duque attributed this to the physical demands of their work, noting that those still employed tended to be active throughout the day. For those who were retired or unemployed and in the lowest socioeconomic brackets, however, the outcomes were markedly worse.

Osteoporosis, a condition characterized by low bone mineral density, which ultimately raises the risk of fractures, affects approximately 18 per cent of older adults globally. Sarcopenia, the progressive age-related loss of muscle mass and physical function, affects between 10 and 27 per cent of individuals over 60. Although a growing body of work links SES to musculoskeletal health, evidence on how social gradients operate in specific musculoskeletal conditions such as sarcopenia and osteoporosis remains limited. Prior studies have typically relied on secondary analyses of existing datasets rather than directly investigating the relationship.

Since the study is cross-sectional, it captures a snapshot of health outcomes at a given point in time and cannot determine whether interventions would prevent or reverse the disparities observed. Duque acknowledged this limitation, which is why his future research aims to explore the longitudinal impacts of socioeconomic status on bone and muscle decline.

The study also raises questions about health literacy—the ability to access, understand, and apply health information—as a potential mechanism linking a lower SES to worse musculoskeletal outcomes. Both osteoporosis and sarcopenia require patients to adopt and maintain lifestyle changes such as increased physical activity and dietary adjustments.  However,  lower education and income are strongly correlated with lower levels of health literacy, meaning that socially disadvantaged groups may be less likely to receive, understand, or act on prevention and treatment advice. Consequently, the same communities that enter older age with weaker bones and muscles are also the least equipped to access the information and resources needed to slow that decline, further entrenching existing disparities.

Duque stressed that prevention does not need to be expensive or complicated.

“It does not demand a lot of resources. A good physical activity can be done in a park or in a mountain,” Duque said. “There are some dietary recommendations, […] there are good sources of calcium that do not necessarily have to be very expensive.”

But he also emphasized that individual behaviour change alone is not enough, and that policy-level action is essential.

“We need a policy [….]The problem is that some of these policies are not necessarily applied, developed, or funded,” he said.Duque’s team is now launching a Quebec-based screening project in collaboration with the World Health Organization to identify musculoskeletal decline early in older adults across the province. Musculoskeletal data cannot close the socioeconomic gap in bone and muscle health alone, but knowing where that gap starts is the first step toward designing interventions that effectively address it.

McGill, News, Recap

Recap: Sabaa Quao calls for creativity among disruption 

by Kaitlyn Schramm on

More in McGill:

On Feb. 12, McGill’s Equity Team, in partnership with the Desautels Faculty of Management, invited Sabaa Quao, president of PlusCo Venture Studio, to speak at a keynote event in honour of Black History Month (BHM). Preceding Quao’s speech, Yolande E. Chan—the current and first Black dean of the Faculty of Management—took the stage to offer remarks on behalf of the faculty. She brought up two notable milestones: 2026 marks McGill’s ninth official BHM and the 30th anniversary of Canada’s recognition of BHM. 

Following Chen’s opening remarks, Quao addressed the crowd. He highlighted the title of his speech, “One Step Back, Two Steps Forward,” and then transitioned into an analogy of worldbuilding and creative destruction, urging the audience to take a step back. He described how destruction is inherent to creativity and that disruption is crucial to moving forward. Nonetheless, Quao reaffirmed that taking a step back is equally important to see the progress that has already been made. 

Quao then highlighted the ‘dark side’ of stepping back, which he noted is still very powerful. 

“Right now, we’re dealing with an erosion of institutional trust,” Quao said. “We also are in a period where elections [….] Feel like each one is a kind of existential threat. How is it that something that was so consistent in terms of how we used to move forward has now become a point of tension and a point of anxiety? [….] Two things can exist at the same time. We can have a sense of progress that does coexist with unresolved justice. And you’ve taken the same step back in order to be able to recognize that something does have to change. It has to change.” 

Quao referenced a 2024 study by the McKinsey Institute for Economic Mobility which found that it will hypothetically take 320 years for Black people to achieve equal quality of life. 

“Everyone in this room knows in their gut that you have to reject those numbers. Not just for yourself, not just for kids, not just for your grandkids,” Quao affirmed. “Resistance to change is natural and it’s a human tendency. But at some point, […] you ignore the resistance to change. You ignore the hurdles, and you maximize the space of what you need to build [….] The survival instinct is more powerful than the resistance to change.” 

Commentary, Opinion

Nunavik’s disproportionately high suicide rate reveals colonialism’s continued impact on mental health

by Defne Feyzioglu on

More in Commentary:

Content warning: Mentions of suicide

Feb. 2 to Feb. 8 marked Quebec’s Suicide Prevention Week. The province entered the awareness week with a statistic that sounds like a clear public health win: The suicide rate has dropped to 11.9 per 100,000 people, making it the lowest observed since 1981. However, this provincial average obscures the fact that progress has not occurred evenly across Quebec. The Institut national de sante publique du Québec (INSPQ) reports that Nunavik, an arctic region in Northern Quebec primarily inhabited by Inuit, had the highest suicide rate by far, with 122.7 suicides per 100,000 people—over 10 times more than the provincial average. 

The uneven jump in suicide rates disproportionately affects Indigenous people in Canada, and this difference is not coincidental. If a region’s suicide rate is over 10 times higher than the rest of the province, this discrepancy cannot be explained as a statistical outlier. Nunavik’s case reflects the persistence of the deeply embedded power structures of colonialism, racial discrimination, and the intentional erasure of culture and language in the province. 

Quebec’s suicide-prevention messaging often emphasizes reaching out, breaking the stigma around mental health, and reminding people that they are not alone. Those are not empty gestures, but stigma alone cannot explain a tenfold regional gap. This year’s campaign theme, “tendre la main, soutenir l’espoir” (extend a hand, support hope), captures that emphasis on individual intervention and interpersonal relations as key to combating suicide. 

But if awareness and social stigma were the main barriers, there wouldn’t be a stark geographic pattern; Nunavik’s disparate suicide rate instead points to an uneven landscape of support and access. In practice, ‘reaching out’ can take on very different meanings depending on whether suicide-prevention services are stable, staffed, culturally safe, and close enough to be accessed before a crisis escalates. A generalized campaign cannot, and should not, substitute consistent, local, and culturally-grounded care. 

Research on the pervasive harms of Canada’s residential school system demonstrates that state policy has created intergenerational risk through family separation, abuse, and cultural suppression. A Western University study highlighted the link between increased rates of suicide, intergenerational trauma, and residential schooling. By forcibly separating children from their families and communities, residential schools also laid the groundwork that perpetuates downstream inequities and raises suicide risk today, including lower educational attainment, lower income, unstable employment, and poorer housing conditions. 

INSPQ also noted that Nunavik lacks emergency rooms, and that consultations in its 14 local community service centres may not be as effective as ER visits elsewhere. When staffing is unstable and specialized services are concentrated at the two regional hospitals, this can result in time-sensitive delays and transfers.  

With Nunavik’s small population of approximately 14,000, each death in the province carries an outsized statistical weight. In small, tight-knit villages, the impact of a single suicide can ripple through extended families, peer groups, schools, and frontline workers, intensifying grief and strain on already limited support systems. Public health guidance on suicide clusters emphasizes that closely connected communities can face a heightened risk of additional deaths after an initial loss. This cascading vulnerability is itself a product of the structural conditions colonialism created: Isolated communities with minimal services bear disproportionate grief, with disproportionately fewer resources to absorb it.

The Quebec government must treat colonial policies as living determinants of health, not just features of history. When the province headlines its declining suicide rate, it obscures the systematic inequalities keeping Nunavik’s rate disproportionately high. The same report used by Quebec to demonstrate progress also shows where mental health programming has not translated into prevention outcomes and well-being.

The key imperative during Suicide Prevention Week isn’t just whether reaching out matters—it’s applying that message to systems that people can actually reach. Culturally safe care is inseparable from addressing racism and power imbalances in service delivery. 

Nunavik’s disparate rate doesn’t erase Quebec’s progress, but it does complicate it. It suggests that any honest accounting of prevention has to hold two truths at once: The provincial average is falling, but regional crises remain severe. If Suicide Prevention Week is meant to describe the province’s reality—and not just offer a reassuring statistic—then local disparities are where the prevention has to begin.

If you or someone you know needs support, help is available 24/7 via suicide.ca or the AQPS.

Commentary, Opinion

Quebec immigration reform has left bright minds behind

by Abigail Kronenberg on

More in Commentary:

Monica Colín Silva and her family moved to Quebec City from Mexico four years ago, during which she obtained a Master’s degree at Université Laval. After completing the program and becoming fluent in French, she felt hopeful for her path to permanent residency in Quebec. 

In late 2024, the federal government started requiring post-graduation work permit applicants to take a language test. Colín Silva’s score of 427 on the written section of the required French exam fell one point short of the minimum 428 threshold. Because the permit is directly tied to the applicant’s authorization to work, Colín Silva’s failing score meant that neither she nor her husband would be eligible for employment in Quebec. Facing limited options to support her family, Colín Silva is preparing to return to Mexico. 

While framed as measures to protect Quebec’s linguistic and economic priorities, these reforms place educated international graduates in a state of uncertainty, where years of academic achievement and language acquisition are undermined by shifting immigration policies.

The stricter language requirements are just one example of controversial policy changes made to Quebec’s immigration system under Immigration Minister Jean-François Roberge this year. In September 2024, the government replaced the Quebec Experience Program (PEQ) with the new Skilled Worker Selection Program (PSTQ), shifting to a points-based system that evaluates applicants across several categories to determine how strongly they “match Quebec’s needs.” Roberge has argued that the new program allows Quebec to select workers in the sectors it considers most valuable, such as healthcare, education, and construction. 

The PEQ’s dissolution has left thousands of international students, along with countless professors and other academics in Quebec, feeling suddenly abandoned, as it is almost impossible to predict one’s chances of being approved under the PSTQ. The point system leaves much to the government’s subjective interpretation of the value of one’s job instead of providing a clear checklist for hopeful applicants. 

29.8 per cent of McGill’s student body of over 40,000 is made up of international students—and for many, repeated shifts in immigration policy can generate uncertainty around their chances of a future in Quebec. Quebec’s universities rely on international students for tuition and academic contributions during their studies, but its evolving immigration framework has made long-term settlement far less predictable once those students graduate.

For students like Colín Silva, the inherent issue lies not in Quebec’s desire to preserve French, but in how narrowly immigrants are defined under the law. When one score on an exam outweighs years of living, studying and working in French within Quebec’s institutions—including the completion of a Master’s degree in the language—it calls into question whether the current paths to permanent residency are fairly and holistically evaluating applicants.

Besides increased scrutiny on an applicant’s field of work, Quebec’s updated permanent residency pathways now require graduates to have completed at least three years’ worth, or 75 percent of their coursework in French, in order to qualify. For students who began their studies under previous criteria, the change has caused great anxiety, particularly for non-Francophone university students, as they now struggle to make up for the French coursework they’re missing. 

When single factors such as line of work or language policy become the determinant in deciding who gets to stay and who must leave Quebec, the province sacrifices the minds of countless talented individuals whose stories, if considered through more holistic measures, would more than demonstrate their eagerness and dedication to contribute to the province’s workforce. While Quebec has the right to protect French and its cultural identity, rigid criteria excludes many graduates with proven intentions of contributing to Quebec in the long term. Colín Silva’s story demonstrates that she belongs in Quebec, and that the value her family can offer Quebec cannot be reduced to a single point on a standardized exam.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

With Valentine’s season ending, which fictional couples are your favourites?

by Lia James on

More in Arts & Entertainment:

Valentine’s Day may be behind us, but love is still in the air. From timeless classics to new movies in theatres, on-screen romance has a way of capturing the hearts of viewers. The Tribune has rounded up four of the most memorable couples in film. 

Westley and Buttercup
Let’s start off with a classic: Westley and Buttercup, the lead couple from The Princess Bride. Magical and medieval, the movie consists of sword fights, fist fights, and fairytale-esque costumes, all in the name of love. Not only are Westley and Buttercup one of the most adorable and loyal couples, but the movie itself has a sense of whimsical nostalgia. Westley’s iconic line, “As you wish,” immediately hooks you into this relationship, making you realize that he will endlessly dedicate himself to Buttercup’s dreams.

Harry and Sally
If you are a fan of the friends-to-lovers trope, slow burn, and romantic comedies in general, you will love When Harry Met Sally. This movie is a classic, and no love story has made me laugh nearly as much. The couple first meets at the end of university when they drive to New York City together, and though they don’t get along at first, they reconnect as friends years later. Their unmatched tension has you rooting for them throughout the movie. Released in 1989, the comedy is timeless, and the characters are authentic and relatable. You may find yourself screaming at the TV screen, ‘Just get together already,’ but this slow burn is what makes their relationship absolute gold. If you are also a nostalgic McGill student from NYC, this heartwarming movie will make you feel at home. 

Jon and Ygritte
One of the best TV show couples of all time: Jon and Ygritte from Game of Thrones. These two are a fan favourite owing to their forbidden love and utterly tragic ending. The characters suit each other through their raw and natural chemistry, yet viewers knew that their love story was doomed from the start. Jon was originally Ygritte’s captor; the Night’s Watch and the Wildlings are rivals, leading to a wonderful enemies-to-lovers arc. When Jon holds Ygritte captive, he eventually joins her group, called the Free Folk. But seeing that the group goes against his morals, Jon leaves, abandoning Ygritte. They meet again in battle, and Jon holds her in his arms as she passes. Their final conversation discusses the cave where they first made love and how they never should have left each other—her final sentence: “You know nothing, Jon Snow.” This line highlights Jon’s initial ignorance towards the Free Folk and also emphasizes the cultural differences between him and Ygritte; differences which eventually led to their tragic ending. 

Shrek and Fiona
Last but not least, Shrek and Fiona from Shrek. Shrek, an ogre in a swamp fairytale land, goes on an adventure to the kingdom of Duloc and finds the ruler Lord Farquaad, who wants to marry Princess Fiona. However, due to a curse that causes her to switch between human and ogre form, Fiona is confined to life in a tower. After Shrek rescues Fiona from this dragon-guarded castle, they bond and fall in love. Long story short, they get married in the swamp, and Fiona’s true love’s kiss with the ogre breaks the curse. This couple reminds viewers that our expectation of love should not be based merely on looks or societal judgment, but rather on who will bring out the best version of ourselves—this is what makes Shrek and Fiona one of the best fictional couples of all time.

Laughing Matters, Opinion

Point-Counterpoint: On the divine right of groundhogs

by Julie Raout, Max Funge-Ripley on

More in Laughing Matters:

For the Divine Right of Groundhogs

The media is rich with speculation about The Most Honourable Punxsutawney Phil, the Pennsylvania native behind everyone’s favourite holiday: Groundhog Day. Some doubt his immortality—140 years of age is abnormal for a groundhog—but Phil is no ordinary groundhog. Others argue his eternal rule is undemocratic, a violation of popular will. //Au contraire!// Phil is a guardian of the United States and its people. No other hog could match his talent for serving the nation. 

Look into his piercing eyes and dare question his coat’s lustre. His fur, denoting royal lineage, allows him to sip the Elixir of Life, a nectar every bit as crucial to the nation’s well-being as water.

Phil protects his nation, dictating appropriate February attire since 1886. In fact, he leverages his power to safeguard his country’s freedom. During the heat of World War II, Phil withheld a prediction altogether, unwilling to risk handing such potent climate information to enemies.

Those who doubt Phil’s accuracy only have themselves to blame. Climate change has rendered unrecognizable the weather patterns Phil once knew like the back of his furry little paw. Sustainable climate action must accelerate—not simply for the planet, but for Phil.

Phil is a father and husband. He lives in a humble stump with his kin, devoted to the traditional values that make America great—protecting his burrow, serving his country, and speaking America’s true language: Groundhogese. 

Quebec’s Fred la Marmotte’s recent passing is a poignant reminder that the U.S. is fortunate to have an immortal groundhog like Phil. Hopefully, his Canadian disciples will begin producing their own Elixir of Life, so that this painful transition of power between Freds might be the last.

All hail Most Honourable Punxsutawney Phil! 

His divine power shall endure, protecting governmental institutions and serving as a beacon of hope for political order everywhere. 

For a groundhog democracy

Tyranny corrupts even the best of groundhogs, and groundhog predictions are crucial for national security. The selection process cannot be left to nepotism. Yet Fred la Marmotte Junior did not earn his power; he inherited it after his father’s death. 

Groundhogs are Quebecers too, and they deserve a voice in groundhog authority. They are jolly participants in the province’s community events, such as the Canadian Grand Prix, where they eagerly await their favourite Formula 1 drivers at the finish line. 

At the Davos World Economic Forum, Prime Minister Mark Carney called for middle powers to pivot away from reliance on and imitation of the ultra-powerful. Might does not make right, a message that the young Fred ought to heed. His American counterpart, Punxsutawney Phil, has consolidated power, causing harm even here in Montreal by exploiting the rich local groundhog labour market.

As any McGill student who has spent time near Upper Residences knows, groundhogs are abundant in Montreal. Their prevalence has created tension at the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges cemetery, where they were discovered digging up graves.

No one should have to worry about groundhogs frolicking with their deceased family members. The root of this problem must be addressed. In this context, Phil’s Elixir of Life now appears troubling. How exactly is his serum crafted, and why is the recipe kept secret? Perhaps nefarious necromancy is afoot.

Clearly, Phil is outsourcing his vile elixir production process to Montreal, taking advantage of the weaker Canadian dollar and the large supply of groundhog labour to excavate bones for his mystical potion. Montrealers are subsidizing an American groundhog’s immortality, as loved ones are snatched from their resting places to fulfill the fancies of a tyrant.

Fred’s arbitrarily bestowed power must be redistributed to the people. 

All groundhogs should cooperate under one Union of the Groundhogs, by the Groundhogs, for the Groundhogs. Under this union, democracy shall be a vessel for careful experimentation with participants’ shadows and conscientious debate, leading to deliberative surveys and a unified announcement of the season’s upcoming weather. 

Down with the Divine Right of groundhogs. Long live groundhog democracy.

News, PGSS

PGSS council votes against SSMU food bank fee levy referendum question

by Sarah-Maria Khoueiry, Copy Editor on

More in News:

On Feb. 11, the Post-Graduate Students’ Society of McGill University (PGSS) held its second council meeting of the semester to vote on which questions to include in its upcoming May referendum.

Councillors spent a significant portion of the meeting discussing issues regarding access to food on campus for graduate students. With the Students’ Society of McGill University’s (SSMU) closing of Midnight Kitchen (MK), the restricted access to SSMU’s alternative Free Lunch Program, and SSMU’s impending restrictions upon graduate students using the SSMU food bank, some councillors expressed worry over the lack of affordable food options on campus for their peers.

Secretary-General Sheheryar Ahmed presented a motion on this topic to approve the MK fee discontinuation referendum question, which annulled the previous $2 CAD fee per student per term that had gone toward the daily lunch program since MK’s closure.

“The second step will be a referendum question, probably in the fall, to do with the reallocation of the already collected funds from the Fall 2025 semester,” Ahmed said. “[SSMU’s] own internal regulations, as passed in their Legislative Council, would not extend us the access to their service at the $2 [CAD] level. We’d have to pass another referendum question to increase our contribution to their program, to the $8 [CAD] level, for them to give us access.”

Councillors unanimously voted in favour of the motion to approve the MK fee discontinuation referendum question.

PGSS council also discussed the situation concerning SSMU’s food bank fee levy. After PGSS suspended the MK fee, SSMU President Dymetri Taylor presented a motion to restrict PGSS members from accessing the SSMU food pantry during SSMU’s Jan. 15 Legislative Council meeting. However, following concerns over food security on campus, the Legislative Council passed an amendment to the motion to allow PGSS members to retain access to the pantry for the remainder of the Winter 2026 semester, given that 20 per cent of the pantry’s self-reported users are PGSS members.

Ahmed noted that introducing a PGSS fee levy would not resolve governance issues between the two associations, as there are currently no plans to enter a Memorandum of Agreement (MoA) with SSMU over access to the food pantry.

“In the absence of [an MoA], there can be a lot of changes to the service without our consent,” Ahmed stated. “The various ways we have available to us when going into a partnership can include [an MoA]. It can also include seats on the board of directors of that entity [….] These are all very, very helpful safeguards, and in the absence of them, I personally don’t recommend adding this to the ballot.”

Ryan Olegario, a councillor representing McGill’s Chemistry Graduate Student Society (CGSS), expressed worry over the lack of alternatives available to graduate students.

“If this were to fall through, what are the other options that exist for food support of this nature on campus? Are there other options?” Olegario asked. “Because while I do agree that it may be dangerous to enter into an agreement like this without a proper memorandum, I think, for the time being, it also may be important to ensure that this fraction of students still be able to get this kind of food support.”

The PGSS council ultimately voted against including the SSMU food bank fee levy question in the referendum. With nine votes against, eight abstaining, and eight in favour of the motion, McGill’s graduate students will lose access to the food pantry at the end of the semester.

Moment of the meeting:

The council meeting ended after a second motion to extend the meeting by 30 minutes failed. As such, the motions to dissolve committees’ referendum questions were amended to become an omnibus vote motion.

Soundbite:

“I am not against this fee, but I wish the executives could have been more clarifying on their intentions for the fee levy [….] This is just a comment for the future for executives, or in general, to be very clear and transparent about these things. It is unfortunate to have this interaction between executive and councillor.”–Ambre Lambert, CGSS councillor, after an exchange between Ahmed and Olegario over the membership fee increase referendum question to allocate funds to the creation of a new executive role.

Out on the Town, Student Life

The unofficial tour guide’s guide to Montreal

by Tamiyana Roemer on

More in Out on the Town:

I must have missed the fine print when I enrolled at McGill. In my first year, when a sworn enemy from high school reached out to me for nightlife recommendations, I realized that accepting my offer of admission also meant accepting an unglamorous, unpaid part-time job as an unofficial tour guide to Montreal.

Residing in a city as unique as Montreal bestows many of us with the lofty responsibility of shaping the visits of all supplicants (friend or foe) who seek our insights. Unfortunately, owing to our student status, it may feel as though the only part of the city we’re truly experts on is the stretch between Docteur Penfield and Sherbrooke. Unwilling to admit our ignorance, we commit the predictable folly of half-heartedly recommending Notre Dame, Crew Cafe, or—perhaps worst of all—the Orange Julep. But Montreal’s reputation—and your own—is in your hands, and it’s not too late for the city to name you employee of the month.

La Banquise

It’s not often that a 24-hour restaurant is poised to impress. Yet, La Banquise can satisfy a tourist’s interest in poutine at any time of day. This humble joint offers a classic poutine for the purists and newcomers, while churning out a menu full of unexpectedly delicious twists like La Paul Pogo—topped with onions, bacon, and, as the name suggests, pieces of Pogo.

Le Violon

Move aside, Joe Beef. Since opening its doors in 2024, Le Violon has taken Canada’s restaurant scene by storm, placing eleventh on the list of Canada’s 100 Best Restaurants and becoming the backdrop of an infamous photo of Katy Perry and Justin Trudeau. The menu leans French in spirit but plays freely with seasonal Quebec ingredients, resulting in an elegant rotation of dishes. Thoughtful plating, attentive service, and refined decor make it a solid representative of the contemporary Montreal food scene. While certainly a pricier restaurant by student standards, Le Violon is an excellent recommendation for those who’d like to splurge during their trip.

Pumpui

While Montreal is full of impressive upscale restaurants, it’s also home to a host of hip, casual spots that showcase the city’s culinary creativity. Among this variety, Pumpui is a standout. Seated in the vintage Thai diner-style booths, diners can enjoy a menu of no-frills curries, noodles, and salads that boast authentic flavours and satisfying portion sizes. Plus, the restaurant’s no-reservation policy makes it a great recommendation for a memorable last-minute meal when better-known Montreal restaurants are characteristically fully booked.

Boutique Take Three

Tourists are bound to notice that Montreal is a surprisingly fashionable city. While people-watching, visitors may accidentally catch the shopping bug, and Zara, H&M, and Aritzia are powerless against this Montreal-based strain. Luckily, Boutique Take Three is curating a collection that responds to the city’s fashion needs. This Mile End gem combines meticulously selected second-hand treasures with pieces from local designers, ensuring every find feels both unique and quintessentially Montreal.

Baby Far West

Out of spite, I sent my high school enemy to Unity. But in the two years since then, I’ve reformed. For a true representation of the city’s superb nightlife, I now let travellers know that a Montreal tour should end with a night at Baby Far West. With its top-notch DJs, sultry decor, and perfected cocktails (which are free for ladies every Wednesday), this bar offers more than the ideal space to dance. It’s also a labyrinth of small, intimate rooms, each with its own vibe, perfect for exploring with friends or escaping the dance floor for a brief respite. Whether your visitor is the type to sway to the music, chill on a lavish couch, or wander from room to room, Baby Far West guarantees an unforgettable night to round off a trip to Montreal.

Sports, Winter Sports

The price of daring to be great: What Lindsey Vonn’s crash says about elite sport’s hardest decision

by Jenna Payette on

More in Sports:

13 seconds. That is all it took for an iconic Olympic comeback to collapse into chaos.

One moment, Lindsey Vonn was charging down the Olimpia delle Tofane at highway speeds. The next, she was tumbling violently down the hill, skis dangerously strapped in as her body crumbled. A stunned silence blanketed Cortina d’Ampezzo while medics rushed to the slope.

The crowd watched anxiously as a stretcher bed dangled in the wind below a helicopter, which would airlift Vonn away. She had suffered a complex tibial fracture just nine days after completely rupturing her anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). For many, it was a grim sense of déjà vu: Another brutal crash, another potential career-ending injury.

But once the shock faded, a question remained: In elite sport, who decides when an athlete is truly ready to return from injury?

The stakes are immense because Vonn’s legacy is enormous. This was not a reckless newcomer chasing headlines, but one of history’s most decorated skiers—an Olympic downhill champion and multi-time World Cup winner who spent two decades mastering a highly dangerous sport.

Athletes at this echelon understand risk intimately. It is woven into every choice they make. This experience suggests that Vonn’s decision to race with a completely ruptured ACL was not an act of carelessness, but of conviction.

At the heart of the debate is athlete autonomy. Elite competitors spend years developing an almost forensic awareness of their bodies. They know the difference between pain and injury, fatigue and failure, fear and focus. In downhill skiing, where racers hurtle down thin snow at breakneck speeds, readiness cannot be reduced to a scan or a checklist. Confidence, reflexes, and instinct matter just as much as ligament integrity. To deprive an athlete of the final decision feels, to many, like stripping them of ownership over their own lives.

However, medical science complicates this narrative. Doctors are trained to see what competitors are incentivized to ignore. While an athlete faces different external and internal pressures—national expectations, sponsorships, and the haunting fear of a closing ‘window’—a physician sees the mechanical reality. A compromised joint increases the probability of catastrophic failure, regardless of how sharp a racer may feel in training. This creates a difficult dilemma: Should medical teams hold absolute veto power while medals and careers hang in the balance?

In a definitive sense, Vonn’s crash was probably not preventable. Downhill skiing routinely claims perfectly healthy racers. This particular accident began with a single, technical mistake—a clipped gate and lost balance. Yet, repeated serious injuries inevitably shift the conversation toward recovery standards and risk tolerance. In the high-velocity world of alpine racing, the distinction between a freak accident and a foreseeable disaster is often only visible in hindsight—and in Vonn’s case, the timing offered some relief: She was reassured that her ruptured ACL had played no role in her Olympic crash just days later.

Another dimension of the debate is the gendered lens through which the public evaluates high-stakes decisions by women in sport. When women in sport make high-risk decisions that end poorly, the backlash is often merciless. The rhetoric that “she should have known when to quit” ignores the psychological gravity of elite competition. For these athletes, retirement is not a simple career change: It is often an identity crisis. Had Vonn chosen safety over the start gate, the ‘what if?’ might have haunted her longer than any physical fracture.

We see this double standard often. When Simone Biles withdrew from Olympic events to prioritize her mental health, she initially faced backlash before later being hailed as a pioneer. When Serena Williams returned from life-threatening childbirth complications, her ambition was celebrated until her results wavered. Women are often applauded for their determination only until it pushes past what spectators deem ‘reasonable.’ At that point, ambition is recast as irresponsibility.

The reality is that for an athlete like Vonn, there is no ‘right’ choice: Compete and risk disaster, or step aside and endure a lifetime of regret. Following her crash, Vonn wrote in an Instagram post, “I hope if you take away anything from my journey it’s that you all have the courage to dare greatly.” For those whose identities are forged in the arena of sport, her words serve as a reminder that both racing and walking away carry a heavy cost—and that the courage to choose, however imperfectly, is what defines greatness.

Off the Board, Opinion

A lesson from the neighbourhood cat

by Tamiyana Roemer on

More in Off the Board:

I have a friend who appears without warning, leaves without explanation, and never promises to return. He is profoundly unpredictable, given that he is a neighbourhood cat—but are the movements of human friends any more certain? 

Manchego, lovingly nicknamed by my roommate Katie, is a beloved member of the Milton-Parc community. You’ve probably seen him on his daily patrol, climbing up fences and over mounds of misplaced recycling in his ceaseless hunt for adventure and affection. And while you may even have been lucky enough to have pet the soft orange fur of his ears or hear the hum of his impressively loud purrs, my Reddit research on r/mcgill has informed me that recurrent encounters with him are a rarity. So it is with a hint of pride that I admit he visits me often, meowing needily at the patio door until I crack it open for him to slip inside. 

While I imagine many of you are suppressing a bit of jealousy, (accurately) imagining this gentle ball of fur falling asleep on my chest or climbing on my shoulders while I make breakfast, I must also admit that his visits do not come without their inconveniences. 

Manchego’s roguish explorations of the Montreal wilderness leave his paws perpetually muddy, poised to leave their mark on every surface he touches. And sometimes, much to Katie’s dismay, Manchego arrives with an unannounced plus-one, his standoffish brother who sours the scene with an unmistakable feline disinterest. Most unenviable of all, however, are the inexorable itchy hives that cover my skin after each of Manchego’s visits—though I occasionally escape with the lesser sentence: hours of red, watering eyes.

And yet, this unappealing list has never once deterred me from letting Manchego in. Of course, each hassle could be largely mitigated by limiting our time together. I could open the door only just before laundry day, or when I’m feeling gracious enough to endure the unwelcome guest he brings, or on days when I can recover from an allergic reaction at home instead of sniffling through my classes. But, acutely aware that I cannot anticipate his next appearance, I always unlock the door.

It strikes me that I have granted this unpredictable feline friend a courtesy I have withheld from my more predictable companions. Trusting that they will remain, I have deferred their invitations, mistaking postponement for prudence. Armed with a litany of surmountable—albeit valid—excuses, I’ve ignored the fact that their presence is a brief and fragile gift. 

Our loved ones will not always be available on our schedule. They may move to a new city, study abroad for a semester, accept a demanding job, or enter a relationship that takes up much of their time. The circumstances that bring us together are neither fixed nor guaranteed; they are contingent, unfolding, and often fleeting. For that reason, they are indelibly precious.

To be present with another person is to accept a measure of unpredictability—to make room for interruption and mess. To love people well is to resist the illusion that there will always be another opportunity at a more convenient time. When we enact patterns of postponements, we gradually stretch our presence into absence. Presence, then, is not merely a matter of physical nearness but of orientation. It’s the willingness to turn toward another person whenever the moment permits it. It is a form of attention, but also a form of faith—faith in the worth of ordinary moments. It is a belief that spontaneous participation is what gives a relationship its substance.

1 … 16 17 18 19 20 … 1,363

Read the latest issue

Read the latest issue