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The transforming landscape of linguistic diversity

The Montreal Underdocumented Languages Linguistics Lab (MULL-Lab) houses linguists from McGill and the wider Montreal community who focus their research on languages that are considered to be at risk of extinction because so few people speak them. For example, MULL has ongoing research on Inuktitut and Tlingit, two Indigenous languages from Nunavut and Alaska, respectively. Underdocumented can also refer to languages with a stable number of speakers but a relatively small amount of academic material written about them. Languages in this category include Igala in Nigeria and a number of Mayan languages spoken throughout Central America. 

Regardless of the unique situation of a given language, MULL researchers approach each language with the goal of identifying patterns, understanding the inner workings of its grammar, and untangling nuances that have not been previously identified.

Elicitation is one of the primary ways linguists investigate how a language works. This method allows linguists to formulate hypotheses and questions about the grammar of a language and test them systematically by collecting direct feedback from native speakers. 

“It’s basically an interview. We ask [a native speaker], ‘How do you say this? How do you say that?’ and we write it out on the board in chalk. Using that, we trace out the outlines of the grammar,” explained Terrence Gatchalian, a PhD student in linguistics at McGill, in an interview with The McGill Tribune

But elicitation has its limits. “A speaker’s knowledge of their language is incredibly deep, it’s very far reaching, and at any given point, you’re only going to get a small corner of that linguistic knowledge,” Gatchalian said. 

One way to get a broader view of a language is to work with a corpus, which is a collection of speech and writing from native speakers.

“When you’re looking at corpora, you get a good distribution of what kinds of things that a speaker will say if they want to express [some] meaning,” Gatchalian said. “You get the benefit of having very naturalistic data—these are things that someone said.”

McGill’s Department of Linguistics is primarily focused on studying language data in support of theoretical work, but Jessica Coon, a professor in the department, points out that a linguist’s ethical obligations increase when they start working with endangered languages. 

“I think there’s an added responsibility when doing theoretical work with underdocumented languages to make sure that the outputs of that work––while they might contribute to linguistic theory and they might also go in journals that are really theoretically oriented––can also be communicated to community members in an accessible way,” Coon said in an interview with the Tribune.

Linguists have not always taken this responsibility seriously, engaging instead in extractive linguistics—the practice of going into a community, studying the language, leaving, and eventually publishing the results in a journal, typically in a manner that’s inaccessible to members of the community who are directly impacted by language extinction. 

Over the last few decades, however, linguists have shifted towards a more collaborative approach with communities of speakers. This means valuing the work done by native-speaker linguists, taking community goals into account when designing research projects, and ensuring that any gained linguistic insight is shared with the source community. 

“It’s really just like a completely new learning process every single time, because every community is going to have different challenges, every community’s going to have different goals,” Gatchalian said. “As someone who tries to do this work, I think it’s important to be really flexible and open minded.”

Prioritizing the goals and needs of speaker communities is especially important given that many of those communities are in the process of completely losing their language. Of the roughly 7,000 languages spoken globally, over 40 per cent, or more than 2,800, are endangered, and many of these endangered languages are spoken by Indigenous peoples around the world. In response to the crisis, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has declared the decade from 2022 to 2032 to be the International Decade of Indigenous Languages (IDIL). Through the IDIL and other initiatives, language documentation work around the world is trying to keep pace with the rate of language loss. 

“The time is really now to be doing this very important work, because for many languages around the world, they’re in a very critical state where the language is not being passed on to new generations of speakers in the home,” Coon said. 

At McGill, MULL is one place where this work is happening, but there is currently no specialized support for those interested in language revitalization. In 2021, $3 million of a larger donation from Gerald Rimer was allocated to establishing the Institute for Indigenous Research and Knowledges at McGill, which will include a lab specifically dedicated to the revitalization of Indigenous languages. 

This institute will bring some much-needed focus and structural support to the study of Indigenous languages spoken in and around Montreal, such as Kanien’kéha. 

“When you look at the universities that support programs related to Indigenous languages or revitalization or conservation efforts, there aren’t very many of them, even though there are communities whose languages are in need of that kind of support all over the place,” said Willie Myers, a graduate student in McGill’s linguistics department, in an interview with the Tribune

Language revitalization and conservation is a pressing issue globally, but especially so in Canada, where there are more than 70 languages across 12 language families. 

“In many respects, the Indigenous languages of Canada are as different from each other as they are from any other human languages. Because of this, it’s very difficult to generalize about Indigenous languages in this country,” James Crippen, who is Tlingit and a professor in McGill’s Department of Linguistics, wrote in an email to the Tribune. “But we can confidently say one general thing: All Indigenous languages in Canada are endangered or threatened.”

All of the language conservation work being done by native speakers, community members, and outsider linguists raises the question: Why is it important to preserve endangered and threatened languages? In other words, what is lost when a language disappears?

“There are […] fuzzy claims about how the loss of the language takes with it some mysterious connection to the world or to nebulous, often magical ideas that nobody wants to actually explain,” Crippen said. “Although this kind of discourse might be well intended, it’s honestly just as harmful as the rhetoric about how our languages are bizarre.”

Culturally and linguistically, there are compelling reasons to care about language loss. For example, as Crippen explained, fluency in a language is often the only way to appreciate the verbal artistry of a language’s stories or songs. On the linguistics side, documenting as wide a variety of languages as possible is fundamental to making accurate claims about language. One goal of linguistics is to make generalizations about the ways that all languages function and what the underlying patterns are. In order to do this work accurately, it’s imperative that linguists look at diverse languages. But at some point, these lines of reasoning must go beyond the academic.

“First and foremost people use their languages for everyday life,” Crippen wrote. “I tell learners of Indigenous languages that they should learn how to wipe their butt in the language, learn how to pick their nose in the language, learn how to fight in the language, and learn how to love in the language. It’s those ways of describing ordinary lived experience that are the most visceral and the most human.”

Emerging Trends, Student Life

To swipe or not to swipe: Dating in a post-lockdown world

Since March 2020, the comings and goings of COVID-19 have altered the structure of our social lives. For nearly two years, people of all ages reduced their in-person activities and turned to an online world of family gatherings, end-of-year parties, and even dating. Some embraced this shift in dating culture to challenge themselves. Others met this change with angst and uncertainty but adjusted to the conditions as the pandemic progressed. Regardless, the pandemic brought forth new ideas and practices surrounding the dating world and changed how people viewed their love lives. 

New and creative ways of meeting people

COVID-19 measures restricted meeting at bars, restaurants, clubs, and other social gatherings for extended periods. Ultimately, people had to rethink how they spent time with others. 

“Everything was closed, so coming up with dates required a bit more creativity,” Felix Tymoshenko, U1 Management, shared in an interview with The McGill Tribune. What once was a typical dinner-then-drinks outing was reinvented into going on outdoor hikes, getting takeout from a restaurant, or participating in virtual games such as escape rooms

Many consider the unconventionality of pandemic dates to be a good thing: It allows for change and a way to think outside the box. It’s also, arguably, a better way to get to know someone. While the typical dinner-and-drinks setting is a comfortable option for many, it’s easier to discover someone’s true personality while participating in an engaging activity. It also makes dating more appealing to those who find settings like coffee shops or bars dull and repetitive. 

“There are endless possibilities of things to do, many of which I never considered before COVID-19: Hiking, biking, or even swimming,” Émilie Fortier, U1 Arts, said. 

Changing attitudes: Higher standards and clearer intentions

Dating coaches and experts have also found ways in which attitudes toward dating have shifted over the last few years: People have set higher standards when it comes to dating. For example, Hinge Director of Relationship Science, Logan Ury, has discussed how alone time spent during COVID-19 isolation allowed individuals to gain insight and clarity on different aspects of their lives. Known as the “Hard Baller” trend, people are more likely to be upfront about their dating intentions as soon as their first or second date with someone.

Meeting romantic partners: Shifting from “in person” to online

Although the pandemic sparked creativity and a better sense of self-understanding, one thing remained a challenge: Meeting people. In-person meetups were limited, which prompted many to turn to dating apps like Tinder, Bumble, or Hinge. Although they might seem like a convenient and accessible way of meeting others, criticisms abound about online dating apps. Their rise in popularity has contributed to looks being an overvalued aspect in current dating culture through the abundance of profiles to look through, almost like a game. The ease with which one can swipe left or right prompts users to dismiss potential partners with whom they might share affinities but who don’t perfectly adhere to contemporary and often Eurocentric beauty standards. 

Are online dating and “in-person” dating mutually exclusive?

The dating app user experience invites further questioning of their impacts on users’ day-to-day lives. Many wonder whether staying “safe behind a screen” affects people’s ability to approach someone they find attractive in real life or contributes to negative feelings of self-worth. Does creating a perfectly curated version of one’s life on dating apps make users reluctant to meet people in real life out of fear of exposing the less appealing parts of their personality? 

Apps, such as Hinge, offer “prompts”: Open-ended questions that help users enhance their profiles and attract people with similar tastes or interests. This function certainly diversifies dating profiles from their usual content type, which helps divert users’ attention from looks to personality traits. However, it remains unclear if such prompts will help counter the appearance-based focus of modern dating culture. Will online dating prevail in the post-lockdown world? Only time will tell. 

McGill, News

Staffing shortages led to temporary closure of McGill’s main sexual violence support service

As a result of staffing shortages, McGill’s central sexual violence support service, the Office for Sexual Violence, Response, Support, and Education (OSVRSE), was forced to close temporarily during the Fall 2022 semester. All active cases were immediately transferred to the Office of the Dean of Students (ODoS), whose case managers have been trained to provide support to survivors and are prepared to assist both with academic accommodations and priority referrals to the Wellness Hub

OSVRSE was created in 2016 as the central support service under McGill’s new Policy Against Sexual Violence. Since its inception, however, it has only been staffed by a maximum of three permanent employees at a time. During Summer 2022, after an employee went on leave, OSVRSE was down to one permanent staff member. According to sources interviewed by The McGill Tribune, OSVRSE was forced to close in early fall so the employee could catch up on the paperwork they were legally required to maintain for ongoing sexual assault cases. 

Given that the ODoS has a student-centric mandate, Arts Senator Sam Baron is confident in its ability to support survivors in the interim. However, Baron is troubled by the lack of transparency which he believes comes from higher-ups in the senior administration. He told the Tribune that he only realized OSVRSE was closed after seeing that bookings were unavailable for the entire month of October. 

“The [senior administration is] very risk-adverse and they don’t want McGill to get bad press regarding its resources for students who have experienced sexual violence, especially because OSVRSE is the primary support mechanism,” Baron said. “But […] I think it’s disingenuous to not tell students when resources have been moved through the university because these resources are so important.”

The Sexual Assault Centre of the McGill Students’ Society (SACOMSS)—a volunteer-run organization that offers support services for survivors—also takes issue with McGill’s lack of communication surrounding the change. A SACOMSS representative told the Tribune that they were only recently informed that OSVSRE responsibilities had been shifted to the ODoS. 

“It is our hope that in the future, the McGill administration will proactively inform on-campus resource-referral services and the student body of any changes that may have a significant impact on survivors,” they wrote via email. 

Since being notified of OSVRSE’s closure, the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) and SACOMSS have been collaborating with the ODoS to reduce confusion for students seeking support. Maya Willard-Stepan, SSMU’s mental health commissioner, told the Tribune that after she was informed on Nov. 22, representatives from SSMU and SACOMSS met with the Dean of Students, Robin Beech, on Nov. 29, to clarify on OSVRSE’s website that its services had been rerouted to the ODoS. They also advocated for a public announcement to go out to the McGill community, which was sent out on Dec. 4. 

While both Willard-Stepan and SSMU vice-president University Affairs Kerry Yang believe communication from the administration could have been improved, they stressed the importance of letting “bygones be bygones” and focusing on ensuring that survivors can continuously access support services. 

“We’re trying to make sure the resources are as robust as possible before OSVRSE comes back, then we can transition to a period where OSVRSE can once again provide support at a much better capacity than before,” Yang said in an interview with the Tribune

Over the coming months, OSVRSE will expand staffing from two to five permanent positions, with hiring currently underway. Although Willard-Stepan wishes OSVRSE was never in a position to close in the first place, she is glad McGill is taking the opportunity to revamp the office. 

“I am really looking forward to working on rebuilding that relationship in the future,” Willard-Stepan said. “I’m really looking forward to meeting new caseworkers and ensuring that […] [OSVRSE’s] structure is sustainable enough that this never happens again.”

Those in need of support for sexual violence at McGill can reach out to the Office of the Dean of Students to set up an appointment with a Case Manager by emailing [email protected] or calling 514-398-4990.

Commentary, Opinion

Campus conversations: Transformation

Valentina de la Borbolla, Opinion Editor

As I go through my last few days as a McGill undergrad, I cannot help but look back at my time in university with a sense of incredulity and nostalgia. I am still taken aback when walking by the infamous Leacock 132 lecture hall, struggling to remember any useful piece of information from POLI 200 three years ago. What strikes me most is how normal walking through campus feels, when just a few years ago, this place was so deeply unfamiliar. It took me longer than expected to adapt to university life. The cold, the large classrooms, and the dorms destabilized me. I was used to perfect Mexican weather, classrooms full of friends, and a quiet life with my mom and my dog. Suddenly, I was surrounded by screaming frat boys and empty bottles of Black Flys. 

I cruised through the discomfort of my first semester in a half-awake state, and when I had to return home for lockdown, I almost forgot I had left at all. Every post-lockdown semester at McGill felt eerily similar to the first one, but in retrospect, the changes I have gone through are undeniable. I am surrounded by friends, a partner I love, a yapping dachshund, professors that challenge me, and coworkers I admire. All the things I was hoping for when I first got my acceptance letter ended up coming true—though maybe a couple of years later than expected. Before my semester, and my degree, officially end, I am slowing down a little bit and appreciating my growth. These past few years may not have been the best of my life, but they were certainly the most transformative, and that is something to be grateful for. 

Chloé Kichenane, Staff Writer

“On this day, two years ago.” 

It’s 8 a.m., and my body is sinking back into slumber. Yet, the notification shakes me and I need to know. Who was I two years ago? 

As I scroll through the hundreds of pictures flooding my Snapchat memories, an odd feeling hits me. Some people would describe it as looking into a mirror and seeing a past version of yourself looking back. But to me, it feels more like looking into a stranger’s window, into a parallel dimension where I am someone entirely different.

Sometimes, I find myself thinking about home, about who I was before coming here. I think about the people I used to know. I wonder where they are now and where they’re going. As I let my thoughts wander, I realize this past life doesn’t feel real anymore, almost like a very long dream of which I only recall a few glimpses. 

Maybe it’s simply the struggle of every university student who leaves home, but being away transformed me—and I get a reminder of it every time I step into my old bedroom, a place that doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It seems like everything from the pictures on the walls to the books on the shelves belonged to someone else. What was once the centrepiece of my life now seems like a still picture, as if I had never actually lived there. So I wondered: Where is ‘home’ if not the very room I grew up in? 

For all those for whom going back has caused an existential crisis, here’s a reminder: ‘Home’ is an idea in constant flux. Moving away, I realized that home could be anywhere. It is the wooden staircase of my high school, the cafés my friends and I stayed in for hours, even the street by the train tracks where I’d walk my dog. But home is also 5,000 kilometres away as I sit right here in Montreal, scrolling through pictures from a different time.

Keith Baybayon, Contributor

I moved to Canada from the Philippines over 10 years ago, not knowing English or anyone outside of my immediate family. Coming from a small town, it was challenging to live in a big city such as Toronto. Yet here I am today, living independently in Montreal, learning French, and making new friends. I became someone I would never have imagined. 

Transformation is constantly happening around us. The transition from autumn to winter is a prime example. Changes like this can sometimes come fast, like the flipping of a switch that brings light to a room. Some changes, however, can take months or even years.

As someone who is learning French, it takes time to indulge in French culture and speak the language naturally. Moving to Montreal encouraged me to pursue learning French so that I could communicate with my peers and find a job. It takes dedication and ambition to achieve growth like this.

Some may not have seen snow until having moved to Montreal, officially transforming into either a snow-lover or snow-hater. Maybe some took a bird course to achieve a good grade and ended up loving the content and pursuing similar studies; that is a transformation in and of itself. Some people may not notice in the moment, but everyday decisions lay the groundwork for becoming someone new and better.

Uncontrolled events can prompt change, but whether that change is pursued is what matters. I took a big step in my decision to attend McGill as I was the only person from my graduating class to move to Montreal. Each day I spend in this city is another opportunity to figure out who I want to be.

We’re all on a constant journey of improving ourselves. It is that transformation that allows people to reach their highest potential.

Student Life, The Tribune Predicts

The Tribune Predicts: Winter horoscopes

As the winter semester draws to a close and the grassy terrain of campus turns into a snow-covered glaze, you may be at a loss for how to get into the groove of finals season. But don’t fret, dear reader—the stars are here to help guide you through the exam period and winter break.

Aries (March 21- April 19): Your hard work has paid off this semester, Aries. You’ll breeze through your finals and, in a surprising turn of events, land yourself a stellar internship for this summer. Go get ‘em!

Taurus (April 20- May 20): Money doesn’t grow on trees, Taurus. But you might forget that this holiday season. You’ll splurge on lavish gifts for your friends and family, and they will absolutely love them. Just remember—you don’t need to break the bank: They love you without all the glitz and glam.

Gemini (May 21-June 21): Beware, Gemini! Mars will supercharge the moon on Dec. 7, which will bring out your argumentative side. Just make sure to keep your emotions in check. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.

Cancer (June 22- July 22): Your cool, calm, and collected demeanour is going to come in handy this winter. A disagreement in your professional life will make waves in your inner circle, but with the help of your superb negotiation skills, you will make the most of it.

Leo (July 23- August 22): Let’s go, Leo! You’re almost done with the semester. While your workload might have you feeling stressed right now, you will enjoy a restful holiday season, surrounded by friends and family, which will leave you recharged and rejuvenated.

Virgo (August 23- September 22): Questions like ‘where do you see yourself in 10 years?’ and ‘what does the future hold?’ are often overwhelming. But, luckily for you, Virgo, the full moon on Dec. 7 will bring clarity to your career prospects. Specifically, you will uncover a new mentorship opportunity that is sure to bring you tons of wisdom. 

Libra (September 23- October 23): Libra, your strong problem-solving skills are sure to come in handy this month. You will notice some tension emerging on the homefront, but ultimately you’ll manage to smooth the waters before things get out of hand. In the end, this will bring you all closer together.

Scorpio (October 24- November 21): Unfortunately, you’re in for a rough patch at the beginning of this month, Scorpio. The full moon on Dec. 7 will bring out financial stresses that will add uncertainty to your already busy life. But, luckily, all will be resolved as the new moon begins. You will learn new budgeting techniques that will help keep your finances in cheque.

Sagittarius (November 22- December 21): With the sun in your sign for most of December, you are on your A-game, Sagittarius. From a flirty new romance to a lively social life, you’ve got it all. Just make sure to hit the books from time to time… those finals aren’t quite over yet.

Capricorn (December 22- January 19): Watch out, Capricorn! Your academic focus and drive have been a huge advantage this semester, but as finals loom, you’re reaching burnout. Make sure to take time for yourself and spend time with those close to you—there’s more to you than just the studious exterior. 

Aquarius (January 20- February 18): You’re in for a rewarding winter break, Aquarius! You will develop a new hobby that is sure to keep you occupied and fulfilled during your time off. Who knows, you might even meet a potential lover while you’re at it.


Pisces (February 19- March 20): As the semester comes to a close, you are taking time to reflect on the best and worst parts of it. Whether you regret not getting involved more or not prioritizing your grades, don’t be too hard on yourself; next semester will bring tons of opportunities to grow.

McGill, News

Cautious optimism for McGill unions as year closes on historic faculty unionization

McGill stood for 200 years without a faculty-specific union until Nov. 8, when the Association of McGill Professors of Law (AMPL) was certified by the Tribunal administratif du travail (TAT) after a year-long litigation process. As another collective agreement (CA) negotiation is added to the overwhelmed McGill Human Resources (HR) docket, The McGill Tribune followed up on the status of labour unions across campus. 

AMPL president Evan Fox-Decent told the Tribune that he is optimistic about maintaining positive relations if McGill “stays the course” by not deliberately delaying negotiations. For example, the administration has not challenged the TAT certification for judicial review, although it is within their legal rights to do so. 

“I think [McGill] will be pleased to see that my colleagues don’t have unreasonable demands,” Fox-Decent said. “As much as it might seem like a radical move to unionize, for most of my colleagues, it’s being driven by a deep conservatism [that] cares about tradition”

McGill has recognized AMPL’s notice to bargain, a written notice requesting the beginnings of collective bargaining, but remains under the viable legal timeframe to challenge the certification until Dec. 7. The first meeting, which was initially scheduled for Nov. 28 but cancelled on McGill’s end, will take place on Dec. 14. The Association of McGill University Support Employees (AMUSE) president James Newman finds the AMPL certification to be one of the biggest developments in McGill’s labour dynamics in recent years. 

“AMPL is where the action is right now in terms of unions,” Newman said in an interview with the Tribune. “If they ultimately succeed, who knows what could be coming down for [labour] organization[s] at McGill?”

AMUSE has had its share of negotiatory struggles—after repeated stalemates at the bargaining table, floor fellows resorted to striking in March 2022. When members of AMUSE gathered to sign a finalized CA months later on Nov. 7, however, they found two McGill members were missing: One on holiday, the other absent without notice. Since all parties had to be present, the CA was ultimately signed on Nov. 16, two years after the previous contract had expired. Despite the lengthy process, Newman says the union is satisfied and optimistic now that the new CA is in effect.

“Obviously we can’t let relations between labour and management get too cordial, but I am pleased that McGill seems to be coming around to understanding our point of view on some key issues,” Newman said. “We’ll wait and see what they actually do, but so far I think these developments are positive.”

The Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM) has also seen advancements in their CA demands. After government-conciliated meetings on Sept. 6 and Oct. 31, McGill proposed a raise of 10.53 per cent to the current invigilator wages, which were frozen at $14.25 since their last raise in 2019. Wages are set to increase incrementally every May, bringing the hourly wage to $18.00 by 2025 with an additional six per cent vacation indemnity. The offer has since been ratified at the unit assembly held on Nov. 17 and will be included in the new CA. 

AGSEM mobilization officer Kiersten van Vliet noted that these were not common raise rates; the previous annual raise had been 2.5 per cent. She hopes AGSEM’s headway can provide momentum for the other unions on campus, turning the administration’s concept of “internal equity” against them.

“In terms of the monetary wins we were able to make, I hope other employee groups are able to take that into account for their own negotiations,” van Vliet told the Tribune. “We can build incrementally on the wins of the previous unions, not just within the employee group but between the groups, so that McGill cannot justify keeping these wages artificially low. A win for one group can be a win for all groups at McGill.”

Out of 15 unions at McGill, seven have active CAs now, according to the university’s HR website.

Arts & Entertainment, Books

Biblioasis Fall 2022 highlights: ‘Ordinary Wonder Tales’ and ‘This Time, That Place’

Since 2004, the Canadian publishing company Biblioasis has remained committed to publishing intimate and creative works of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry from authors across the world. As the fall semester comes to a close and students finally get the opportunity to read and decompress during winter break, The McGill Tribune highlights two of Biblioasis’ best offerings released this year.

Ordinary Wonder Tales by Emily Urquhart – Ella Buckingham

In this essay collection, Emily Urquhart draws from her experience as a folklore scholar to relate historical “wonder tales,” as she calls them, to experiences in her own life. Pulling from legends ranging in origin from Japanese to Irish, this collection is engaging, innovative, and thoughtful. Characters appearing throughout these folktales such as the Amabie, a half-fish, half-duck Japanese prophetess, are described in vivid detail. The Amabie warned the village people to whom it appeared that a plague would occur unless her image was spread amongst the people. 

Urquhart then applies these folktales to situations of our time, demonstrating how adaptable and powerful these stories are to contemporary life. In “The Plague Tales,” she explains how during the pandemic, her family and children sketched out the Amabie and placed it on the front door as a protective talisman. She also explores how ancient motifs can resonate in present-day stories. In “Years Thought Days,” she compares her father’s battle with dementia to a genre of folktale with the same name that references the supernatural flow of time occurring when a mortal visits the underworld.  

At points, discord emerges between the stories’ lyrical quality and the crash course on the technical side of folklore scattered throughout. This can distract readers from the calming lull of the tales. However, the end result is a literal blending of fact and fiction that informs readers about the complexity of storytelling while also satisfying their imaginations. In Urquhart’s collection, she dispels the notion that fairy tales are irrelevant in this fast-paced, modern environment, and recreates the magic of childhood in day-to-day life. 

This Time, That Place by Clark Blaise – Adrienne Roy

Peeling off layers and simultaneously figuring out which ones to put back on epitomizes the never-ending process of growing up. Clark Blaise’s latest memoir This Time, That Place, a compilation of 24 essays spanning  40 years, is a bittersweet work that authentically captures this transformation. 

The structure of This Time, That Place gifts the reader with more agency than a typical autobiography. By first illustrating his nomadic childhood, Blaise contextualizes the disjointedness he feels in adulthood without explicitly addressing it, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions. While the stories are uniquely his, he expresses his growing pains in a universal way. The reader feels they’ve known someone like his uncle Étienne: Once the mayor of a war-torn town in France, he immigrated to the United States and opened a French restaurant in Gainesville, Florida. Perhaps they aspire to be like his wife Bharati Mukherjee, who balances her writing and teaching career, including a stint at McGill while navigating two worlds as an Indian immigrant to North America. The readers don’t feel as though they’re merely a fly on the wall: They’re sitting in the back of a stolen car in the middle of the night, inheriting a new identity as they watch a past life fade in the rearview. 


Margaret Atwood writes a graceful foreword to This Time, That Place and emphasizes Blaise’s underappreciated and lasting impact on Canadian literature. When other Canadian authors looked to publish abroad, exchanging their Canadian identity for the opportunity of a larger audience, Blaise did the opposite, dedicating his time to the Montreal Story Tellers rather than publishing in the New Yorker. In outlining his devotion, the reader trusts Blaise from the first page. Though sublimely written, This Time, That Place stands out because of that early connection with the reader and Blaise’s vulnerability. His dedication to poignant storytelling instead of commercial success fosters an unparalleled reading experience, and ensures that This Time, That Place finds its audience only for the right reasons.

Science & Technology

The harms of transformation diets

Content Warning: Mention of disordered eating, abuse

Diet and exercise: The cure-all for any health issue, right? Social media is smattered with self-proclaimed “fitness coaches” and “dieticians” who prescribe these quick fixes for anyone wanting to lose weight quickly. The truth is that these “transformation” diets prey on those with deep-seated body image issues and internalized fatphobia by promising a new body in a matter of weeks. However, such drastic diets can have extremely detrimental physiological and psychological effects. 

Those who engage in any form of diet become more vulnerable to developing an eating disorder as dieting itself can be considered a form of disordered eating. Extreme dieting can also lead to cardiac dysrhythmias—irregular heartbeats—and even cardiac death if not closely monitored. The heart uses fat, which is released as a result of an abrupt reduction in calories, instead of sugars for energy, putting more strain on the organ’s ability to function. 

Calorie counts and suggested portions are notoriously inaccurate measures of how much one should eat because all bodies are different. The counts on nutrition labels are based on averages that ignore the complexity of digestion and the diversity of each individual’s unique gut biome and metabolic rate.

As Chloé Fleurent-Grégoire, a registered dietician and MSc candidate at McGill explained, restrictive diets are not sustainable and lead to unhealthy eating patterns.

“In general, an individual who is constantly dieting will suffer from negative physiological consequences,” Fleurent-Grégoire wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune. “Retrospective data demonstrates that more than two-thirds of people who pursue weight loss don’t sustain a clinically significant weight reduction (i.e., five per cent of body weight) after five years. This may lead to individuals wanting to pursue weight loss once again, leading to the yo-yo dieting pattern.”

The yo-yo effect of extreme dieting is the process of losing and regaining weight in a cyclical manner. It can lead to micro-tears in blood vessels which can cause atherosclerosis—the hardening of the arteries—as well as other types of heart disease. Severely limiting calorie intake almost guarantees deficiencies of certain vital vitamins and minerals, leading to a less efficient immune system and weaker bones. Other consequences noted by Fleurent-Grégoire include loss of muscle mass, hormonal disturbances, chronic fatigue, interrupted hunger and satiety cues, and much more.

In addition to the physiological effects of these crash diets, dieting can trigger mental health issues such as depression and anxiety. Dieting, according to Fleurent-Grégoire, can create obsessive and dichotomous thinking about food as either good or bad with no in-between, and strict food rules, food guilt, or shame—all of which can lead to further disordered eating. 

Those who become obsessed with thoughts of food may also develop harmful behavioural symptoms such as skipping meals, partaking in exhaustive amounts of exercise, and binge eating. 

“Some people may attribute the “failure” to their poor willpower instead of the unrealistic food rules related to the fad diet,” Fleurent-Grégoire wrote. “This shame attributed to ‘failure’ may lead to reduced self-esteem […] a potential side effect of the binge-restrict cycle.”

It is also important to consider the source of weight gain or the motivations behind diets to begin with. While many of those looking to diet are doing so because of their own insecurities, trauma can also lead to weight gain that cannot be avoided with any quick-fix diet. Obesity is more prevalent in those, especially women, who have experienced physical or sexual abuse. However, because of the pervasive nature of fatphobia, those perceived as obese or characterized as being overweight by the problematic body mass index (BMI) may be prescribed extreme weight-loss regimens by physicians which do not address the underlying mental or comorbid physiological issues.

The normalization of crash diets is fatphobic, dangerous, and unsustainable for those looking to improve their overall health.

For those looking for a healthier lifestyle, Fleurent-Grégoire had several suggestions.

“Flexibility. Making sure to include foods you love and avoid dichotomous thinking,” Fleurent-Grégoire wrote. “[Cook] more often and eat with family and friends.”

Out on the Town, Student Life

Dough, gravy, and seriously good baking at Ta Pies

Hope has arrived for the 70-odd Australasians at McGill. No longer must they carry Marmite in their purses to liven up lunches or frantically search Mount Royal for the most dangerous-looking critters to feel at home. Less than two kilometres away from campus, off Jeanne-Mance Park, sits a charming little shop called Ta Pies, with an array of offerings from the lands down under.

A modest terrasse greets customers, with regulars enjoying doughy delicacies in faux-wicker chairs. The small storefront is kitted out with a bold red-and-black colour scheme and a whimsical neon “ouvert” sign featuring a steaming pie. The tiny interior is crammed with homemade and imported Australian and New Zealander products and, puzzlingly, a towering shelf of Hot Ones’ sauces. Jars of appetizing sweets, from Tim Tams to fresh Lamington and Anzac biscuits, top the counter. Facing it is a freezer brimming with frozen shrink-wrapped Australian baked goods and a variety of drinks. For all your pantry needs, a nook nestled by the door holds everything from burger-flavoured chips and Milo powder to candy bars like Peanut Slab. Naturally, there are tubs of Marmite.

But, as this eatery’s name highlights, the real centrepieces are the pies, personally-sized and ready to go from a heated case next to the cash register. Don’t despair if your favourites are gone—the freezer and the case under the side counter have more that can be easily reheated at home. If you shop from the frozen pies, there are tons of additional flavours like Pepper Steak and Thai Curry Chicken, larger sizes, and even a 50-cent discount on each pie.

All pies feature the same blessedly versatile puff pastry dough, holding whatever it must while lending a buttery, flaky component to the flavour and texture profiles. The Classic Beef and Cheese is a concentrated blast of savoury richness, its cheddar and shredded beef combining into a powerful entity within the light-as-air pastry cloud. The Steak, however, can’t match up—chewy strands of meat are stewed to blandness, and adding mushrooms or cheese doesn’t help. Their final beef option is the incredible Ned Kelly (fittingly named after an Australian outlaw). Topped by a crackly layer of sharp cheddar, it consists of ground beef, chewy bacon, a creamy baked egg, a healthy amount of tangy barbecue sauce, and a mess of chopped vegetables for good measure. The pastry struggles, but it ultimately manages to hold together this otherwise lawless expanse of incongruously delicious sustenance.

Their only poultry option is the Butter Chicken, a brick-like mass of curry-tinged dough wasting no time in delivering a burst of warm spices when its crust is pierced. Whole lumps of breast meat and elusive vegetable bits in a thick orange sauce are spiced just enough to warm the palette without requiring liquid intervention. The Sausage Roll could replace a normal pie, a convenient scroll-shaped mound of laminated dough folded around a beautiful melange of spiced pork, beef, vegetables, and a touch of gravy begging to be wolfed down.

If all this talk of meat is tiring you, there are also a few worthwhile vegetarian options. The best is the Spinach, Ricotta, Mushroom, and Roasted Tomato—the classic Mediterranean combo ingeniously upgraded with the earthy bite of mushroom. The Curry Squash is less impressive, with a thick under-spiced layer of pureed gourd atop peppery, crunchy mixed vegetables. At $7-8 per pie, the overall value largely depends on which selections you make.

Rounding off the meal with homemade Australian desserts is essential, especially the dreamy Afghan Biscuit ($4.25)—a decadent lumpy disc redolent of cocoa. Topped by a swirl of rich chocolate icing, garnished with crunchy cornflakes and a walnut crown, its interplay of textures and flavours offset each other to create a rice crispy treat and whoopie pie’s love child. The Anzac Biscuit is simpler, a satisfying thick oat-sprinkled and coconut-filled golden round balancing between snappy and chewy. Just like everything at this gem, it’s warm and comforting, even for a North American like myself.

Science & Technology, Student Research

NeuroLingo breaks down neuroscience jargon during TED-talk-like event

On Nov. 26, NeuroLingo hosted a free public neuroscience event during which researchers shared their ongoing projects. Founded in January 2020 by four graduate students in McGill’s Integrated Program in Neuroscience (IPN), NeuroLingo is a neuroscience outreach initiative with the goal of demystifying complex topics in neuroscience. The six speakers at the event were all neuroscience graduate students at McGill and Université de Montréal who condensed their months-long research into 10-minute TED-Talk-style presentations on topics such as depression, language, and child abuse. 

The common thread that united the six seemingly disjointed talks was science communication. NeuroLingo aims to make neuroscience accessible to those who are not necessarily scientists or familiar with technical jargon. Greater access to digestible science talks is crucial as they provide a platform where scientists can distill concepts down to their simplest forms. 

The first speaker, Gabriel Blanco Gomez, a PhD student at The Neuro, introduced his research about language deficits in children with autism by challenging the audience with philosophical questions about why language exists. Although Gomez was unable to provide all the answers to these inquiries, he imparted the key steps of scientific discovery, like making predictions, analyzing data, and drawing conclusions, that should be applied in the pursuit of answers to such complicated questions. 

“We still don’t have an answer about how humans develop language. But that’s okay. Because language is complex, not just genes and brain structures—[it’s] a lot more than that. It’s deeply rooted in culture and emotion,” Gomez said.

Sophie Simard, a master’s student in Naguib Mechawar’s lab, then introduced the process of neurogenesis, the birth of new neurons, and debunked the long-standing myth that the adult human brain does not generate new neurons. Her research aims to determine the extent to which neurogenesis occurs during adulthood. Hopefully, this phenomenon can be harnessed for new and more effective treatments for neurodegenerative disorders like Alzheimer’s disease.

Candice Canonne, a PhD student and Simard’s labmate, began her talk by noting that if she had to retain one positive aspect of the COVID-19 pandemic, it would be the increased attention mental health has received. She then delved into her research about Von Economo neurons, a particular class of neurons that are thought to be implicated in certain mental disorders.

“[Von Economo neurons] are present in key regions that have been linked to depression and schizophrenia, and [this] leads me exactly to the question I want to answer [by] the end of my PhD. Is there an alteration of Von Economo neurons in depression and schizophrenia?” Canonne told the audience.

Arsenii Prozorov studies neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to adapt to internal or external stimuli, in relation to Alzheimer’s. To make his research as relatable as possible, Prozorov  explained neural plasticity by giving examples of daily activities, such as attending a social event and being physically active.

“The preventative measures that are recommended for now are much more effective than any of the current medication for Alzheimer’s disease,” Prozorov said.

To understand the strong correlation between child abuse and mental disorders, Claudia Belliveau, a PhD student also in  Mechawar’s lab, researches perineuronal nets (PNNs), which are composed of sugars and proteins that come together around neurons to form protective meshes against toxic substances. Belliveau’s research has suggested that child abuse leads to an increased number of PNNs.

“We hypothesize that abuse during this time where the brain is like soft playdough not only changes the way that neurons communicate but also changes the way that these nets develop,” Belliveau noted.

The final speaker, Hiba Daghar, discussed the importance of raising awareness about rare diseases. In her research, she characterizes rare congenital neurodevelopmental diseases, like glycogen storage disease type III, in different animal models to better understand the underlying mechanisms that would allow for more effective and targeted treatments. 

“Having this capacity to mimic specific genetic conditions opens the door to what we call personalized medicine,” Daghar said.

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