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From the BrainSTEM, Science & Technology

Winter Olympics 2022: Mother Earth returns empty-handed

After the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing ended with a grandiose closing ceremony on Feb. 20, it is time for a review—not so much of the sports, but rather of the ecological impact of the quadrennial event. Some may wonder as they read this: Didn’t the International Olympic Committee (IOC) assure us that these would be the most sustainable Games in history? They certainly did, but if anyone is still unclear about what “greenwashing” is, here is exhibit A. 

While Beijing boasted about its renewable energy efforts and the IOC published a 130-page sustainability report on the Olympics, nothing can erase the startling image of a completely artificial ski slope rising up amid a semi-arid landscape. The almost post-apocalyptic picture has been trending all over social media, sparking indignation and shattering the eco-friendly myth Beijing tried to spin. Far from being the most environmentally friendly games in history, the only title that Beijing 2022 managed to earn is being the first winter games to fully rely on artificial snow

But what exactly is artificial snow? Joe Schwarcz, director of the McGill Office for Science and Society, explained that snowmakers produce droplets of ice, each with a diameter of about one ten-thousandth of an inch, by quickly releasing water and compressed air, which then expands. The temperature drops and freezes the water, thus releasing heat. 

“This should be obvious when we realize that in order to melt ice we have to add heat,” Schwarcz wrote in an article for the Office for Science and Society. “The heat released is taken up by the expanding compressed air. Incidentally, this is why the ‘snow making’ pipes are always high in the air. If the snow were made close to the ground, the heat released by the freezing process would actually warm up the ground and melt some of the snow.”

The process of snow-making itself is not environmentally harmful: The IOC has ensured the absence of chemicals in artificial snow. The biggest problem with artificial snow is the massive amount of natural resources needed to produce it: 185 million litres (49 million gallons) of water is required to generate enough snow for the Games. 

This is a significant demand from a region that receives only 300,000 litres (300 cubic metres) of water per capita per year, more than two-thirds below the UN’s water-scarcity threshold, which is 1,000 cubic meters per capita per year. Hosting the snow-based events in Beijing could require enough water to fill 800 Olympic swimming pools.

To add to the environmental catastrophe, China has also made the decision to establish its ski domain in the Sonshang nature reserve in Yanqing, causing the decimation of 20,000 trees, the equivalent area of 1,000 soccer fields. On top of that, the IOC’s commitment to transplanting all the felled trees reveals, once again, the crucial lack of commitment the Games has to environmental issues—not the slightest consideration was given to the impact of such a decision on the region’s biodiversity. This doesn’t come as a surprise, as the IOC’s primary mission is the “democratization of sports”—with its market of 1.6 billion people, China turns out to be a purely strategic choice to fulfill this goal. 

The tug-of-war between profit and environment is on display. And yet again, profit wins. But is this struggle even worth the price? Unless greenhouse gas emissions are drastically reduced, only one city out of 21 host cities surveilled—Sapporo, Japan—could feasibly host the event by the end of the century. It seems like the IOC should start worrying about ecological concerns, for its own survival.

Basketball, Sports

Dry spell for women’s basketball prolonged by 66-36 loss to Citadins

The seats of Love Competition Hall were sparsely filled as the Martlets basketball team (0–5) made their return to the court after a three-month hiatus to face off against the Université du Québec à Montréal (UQAM) Citadins (3–2). With only nine players on the bench, the Martlets lost 66-36. 

“I approached Thursday’s game as the start of a whole new season. New year, new beginning,” wrote third-year guard Jessica Salanon in a message to The McGill Tribune. “[The] first half of the season wasn’t easy for us, but at this point we have nothing to lose, only experience to gain.”

First-year guard Iman Ibrahim opened up the scoring with an easy layup. UQAM was quick to gain the lead back, but both teams’ defences kept each other on their toes. There was no clear leader in the first quarter until the last three minutes, when the gap between UQAM and McGill widened in the visitors’ favour, leaving the score at 15-13 for the Citadins.

The Martlets started the second quarter with a dry spell until Salanon scored the team’s first points of the quarter at the 6:46 mark. Yet, the Citadins persisted, maintaining an 11-point lead.

The Martlets continued to make unsuccessful attempts at field goals, and their defence fell short against the relentless Citadin offence. But Rathwell brought morale back up after a fantastic three-pointer, cheering up both the team and the crowd.

Centre Kristy Awikeh made a layup with just over one minute left in the second quarter, while Salanon sank two free throws. The Martlets went into half-time reinvigorated despite UQAM’s 35-24 lead. 

“I think the first half of the game showed that we have improved as a team,” Rathwell said. “We are a very young team going against much older teams. There is no doubt that this is a rebuilding year for us, but I think that each of us have our individual strengths and have potential.”

By the end of the third quarter, the Martlets had only managed to score four more points, including another two free throws by Salanon. The Citadins scored 11 points, bringing the score up to 51-28, increasing their already significant advantage. 

Salanon was disappointed with the results of the third quarter, but took the time to reflect on how the team could improve moving forward.

“Unfortunately, when we came back from half, things went downhill,” Salanon said. “We weren’t able to score and we were giving them easy baskets. I know we are a young team so we lack a lot of experience. We have to learn to stay consistent through the whole game.”

The fourth quarter was dogged by player exhaustion on both sides, resulting in low scoring and several loose balls. However, guard Joy Taan-Tobias broke the slump through an amazing defensive move, setting Rathwell up for a layup.

Spirits brightened, and the Martlets gave it their all for the end of the game. Rathwell scored an additional four points, but UQAM’s lead was too substantial, and they claimed victory 66-36. While it wasn’t the outcome they wanted, Rathwell believes that their moment will come.

“Progress and winning isn’t something that is going to happen overnight, but I’m certain as we all fight our hardest this next month and for the seasons to come it’s something in our future,” Rathwell said.

With the team’s motivation and determination, it won’t be too long before the group solidifies the perfect winning combination.

The Martlets next face off against fourth-place Laval on Feb. 24 at Love Competition Hall.  

Moment of the Game:

After a long scoring drought, the crowd saw a brilliant play from Taan-Tobias. The resulting turnover allowed Rathwell to score, reinvigorating the Martlets.

Stat Corner:

With 11 points and five field goals out of 10 attempts, Katie Rathwell had her best game of the season yet.

Quotable:

“I think that for the rest of the season, our goal would be to be disciplined and [to] fight through the whole game, not only through the first half.” — Third-year guard Jessica Salanon

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

CBC’s new series ‘The Porter’ tells stories of Black resilience in 1920s Montreal

Far from the rosy multicultural haven one may have been taught about in their high school history class, Canada has a sordid legacy of anti-Black racism and discrimination. CBC’s new show, The Porter, released on Feb. 21, explores the little-known history of Black Canadians in Montreal through the lens of Black railway workers in the early 1920s. 

An eight-episode series, The Porter follows the lives of train porters Junior (Aml Ameen) and Zeke Garrett (Ronnie Rowe), as well as Marlene Massey (Mouna Traoré), a Black Cross nurse, and Lucy Conrad (Loren Lott), a jazz club performer. Though characters face systemic problems in their professions—including dangerous working conditions and racist and sexist higher-ups—their stories are imbued with strength and resilience, with a major plot point of the show centering on Zeke’s efforts to establish the first Black labour union.

Though it tells a fictional story, The Porter incorporates real historical events into its plotlines. Zeke’s efforts to unionize Black porters, Junior’s bootlegging operations, Marlene’s involvement with the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), and Lucy’s work in the entertainment industry encompass a range of true stories, albeit consolidated and rearranged for engaging television. A crucial element of the show is its location in Montreal’s own St. Antoine neighbourhood—also known as Little Burgundy. As both a railway hub and the home of Canadian jazz, St. Antoine attracted a diverse and growing Black community from the Maritimes, the Caribbean, and the United States in the early 20th century. Several dance numbers in the Stardust Club pay homage to St. Antoine’s African and Caribbean heritage and give credence to Montreal’s 20th-century status as the “Harlem of the North.” Though the show was shot in Winnipeg, the production recreated life in Montreal in the 1920s, drawing upon archival photographs and consultations with historians. 

Aside from its captivating historical perspectives, The Porter’s strength lies in its diverse array of nuanced characters and situations. Tragedy strikes when Henry, a fellow porter, dies after falling off a railway car due to a lack of safety precautions. While Zeke attempts to reason with the Cross-Continental Railway higher-ups and rallies to unionize his fellow porters, Junior enters the bootlegging industry in Prohibition-era Chicago. Junior sees Henry’s death as proof that work as a porter is fundamentally inhumane, so he quits as an act of self-preservation, while Zeke tries to change the nature of the job to help his community. Though the two bonded as soldiers in WWI, their differing reactions are understandable—they reveal the complexities of coping with the racist society surrounding them. Marlene’s internal conflict in wanting to help those struggling in her community but questioning whether her work as a Black Cross nurse is ultimately useful enough to them, presents a similar struggle. 

With a healthy dose of human drama, The Porter presents an engaging and thought-provoking look into a chapter of Montreal’s history, striking a satisfying balance between soap opera and historical drama. It entertains viewers while simultaneously encouraging them to look further into the stories of Black Canadians and Montrealers. With a talented cast of characters with diverse backstories and perspectives, The Porter brings to life some of the many stories that made Canada into the country it is today. 

The Porter is available on CBC and BET+.

Features

Putting nature in the foreground

The one constant for me throughout this turbulent pandemic has been seeking refuge in the outdoors. During the headlines, elections, and political battles that constantly preoccupied everyone’s minds, nature became a source of comfort and solace. 

It was in April 2020 when the virus initially surged in New England, right when the bitter cold started to thaw. Two weeks off from school started to look like it was going to be a lot longer than anticipated. After weeks without schoolwork and a waning social life, I eventually grew bored of online shopping and scrolling through TikTok. Instead, I began spending more time in my own backyard. Just being in the sun and surrounded by greenery was a refreshing break from the constant stream of information I absorbed from news and social media. 

Addicted to the exhilarating feeling of being outside, I started taking walks around my neighbourhood, looking for nature both in our local parks and in less obvious crevices of the suburban landscape—like thriving gardens dominated by native plants or mini-ecosystems flourishing on mossy rocks. Later in the summer, after getting my bike fixed, I started taking long bike rides on the rail trail that bisects my town. No matter which turn the pandemic or any other current events took, I could always walk into the open arms of the outdoors for consolation.

Though I’m back in Montreal now, I still try to seek this solace in nature. Admittedly, it is oftencan be much more challenging to do this in a big city like Montreal, which is certainly more urban than my suburb outside Boston. The harsh winter that wipes away most of the greenery for almost half the year makes it even harder to interact with the natural world, especially when most of the city is blanketed by layers of snow.

But even in an urban setting, nature physically and culturally shapes our landscape more than we realize. Animals and plant life physically enter into and interact with what we deem “human spaces,” and their presence or absence affects how we as humans connect with our world. There are, of course, the public parks that all Montreal-dwellers enjoy—Parc La Fontaine, Mont Royal, and Parc Jeanne-Mance, to name a few—but even in seemingly bleak downtown areas, nature still manages to creep through. No matter how much humans make their mark on the planet, even our most urban spaces are occupied by plants and animals that seek to share space with us; squirrels make McGill’s campus home, plants constantly weather our man-made structures, and pigeons shadow humans anywhere there seems to be food. To see the omnipresence of the natural world sometimes requires a change of perspective: You need to put nature in the foreground of how you view the city. Whether it’s the weeds sprouting through the cracks of sidewalks or fences covered in thin vines of ivy, one is reminded that the natural environment and the city are not mutually exclusive.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘Uncharted’ might be Nathan Drake’s most daring quest yet

Since its 2007 release, Naughty Dog’s Uncharted series has honoured three generations of PlayStation consoles with its preeminent fable. The quartet of video games follows treasure-hunter Nathan Drake, accompanied by mentor Victor Sully and reporter Elena Fisher, as he quests for ancient treasures and mysteries across the world. Uncharted is revered in every aspect of its composition, setting unrealistically high standards for any related media to come. 

While the fourth game (Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End) seemed to wrap up the series for good in 2016, the Feb. 18 release of the Uncharted movie brought Nathan Drake back to the screen—albeit this time, the silver one. Basing my judgment off the previous terrible movie adaptations of some of the most iconic video games, I issued a self-consolatory sigh and convinced myself to watch the movie without expectations. 

The story introduces a much younger Drake (Tom Holland), a confident and talented bartender whose side-hustles include, but are not limited to, pickpocketing and retelling conveniently relevant historical facts—oftentimes simultaneously. A descendant of the notorious explorer Sir Francis Drake, the younger Drake’s seemingly ordinary life takes a sudden turn toward an inescapable destiny when Mark Wahlberg’s Sully requires his assistance in tracking down an ancient treasure. 

Before going any further into the review, however—and on the topic of Sir Francis Drake—it is important to acknowledge the romanticization of exploration present throughout the Uncharted franchise. The asymmetry in power between the explorer and the area explored makes the latter a mere fascinating object of study for the former. This “Orientalization” of the landscape subdues local autonomy over its own peoples and cultures, providing the explorer with free-reigned ownership of historical artifacts.

The movie follows a simplistic storyline that is predictable to anyone well-versed with the Uncharted games. However, the high production value and star-studded cast offset that weakness, delivering a final product that far outshines the script. Effortless camerawork complements the over-the-top, video-game-esque action. There are frequent and delightful references to the games, such as visual puzzles, occasional stealth (it isn’t Uncharted without massive crates you can hide behind, after all), and ledge-grabbing parkour that only Nathan Drake could execute. 

That being said, Uncharted has a few inherent flaws in need of immediate acknowledgement. 

For one, the characterization takes a serious backseat to the action. Nate’s brother, for example, is introduced at the beginning for only a few minutes, yet the viewer is expected to form a sympathetic bond with him. This is virtually impossible, considering the only personality traits divulged to us are that he steals things and likes to disappear without explanation. Holland and Wahlberg’s chemistry pays homage to Drake and Sully’s immutable dynamic, wherein one is but the extension of the other on every quest. However, while this is reflected from the source material, it is a bit too smooth at times. They form a bond within minutes of knowing each other, making for humorous quips that seem a little ill-fitting for near complete strangers. 

Santiago Moncada (Antonio Banderas) is the run-of-the-mill villain, providing the unidimensional “bad guy” without a purpose. This boundless immorality caricatures his personality, reducing the impact that could have been dealt had he been a more polished, well-developed antagonist. 

At times, the story seems unsure of its own characters’ motives. This confuses viewers, as they question their sympathies with characters who make arbitrary decisions fuelled by unjustified motivations. Most characters go through little to no development over the course of the movie, and when they do, it is often abrupt and clumsy. 
When it comes to movies based on video games, historical precedent painted a grim picture for Uncharted far before its release. Critics and audiences alike circled like vultures, waiting to tear it apart. And quite frankly, most did. However, this movie sets an optimistic scope—not only for future installments within the franchise, but for movies based on video games in general. To synthesize well-known and loved faces in a production of such immense magnitude showcases a hopeful mainstreaming of video game storylines—a bank which holds an ocean of hidden treasures, and then some. 

Off the Board, Opinion

The unspoken harm of digital hoarding

Toward the end of my winter break, I flipped open my copy of the New York Times to find a dying Seneca, scantily clad with arms outstretched as if to spread the last vestiges of his sagacity to his surrounding party. He was trapped in the chassis of an article written by Molly Young, who was describing the revival of Stoic philosophy during the pandemic. Young writes that ancient philosophers Epictetus and Seneca practiced stoicism to escape psychological enslavement—which, today, many attribute to their abundant screen time. But this is old news; we are all too cognizant of (and admittedly complacent with) the fact that technology is taking over our lives. A grave element of the issue, however, often flies completely under the radar—that is, our newfound capacity to indulge in technological hoarding. 

It is not just the photos dating back 10 years that we carry around with us. It is the countless messages across every social media platform that have documented our every conversation. Not to mention our notes apps, brimming with every grocery list, fleeting idea, or emotional word vomit we have churned out over the last decade. In the same space, the digital footprint looms, ominous and unassuming, ready to bite us in the ass with a mortifying Facebook status from 2013. The development of iCloud has ensured that the litter of our daily lives—things our parents would scrawl down on scraps of paper or send away in physical letters—remains with us on every device for the rest of our lives. 

We casually carry around remnants of every moment, relationship, and discussion we have had since our adolescence. The healthy bunch of our generation might pay this no mind, but to the anxious remainder, these colossal archives are a merciless poison. Nostalgia, the secret force behind our troubles, convinces us that life is nothing without moments to remember, good or bad. Poet Anaïs Nin once wrote that we write to taste life twice; the victims of Nostalgia, however—who pore over old texts or notes like daily prayers—do not read their writing as a rare indulgence, but as a persistent and nauseating gorging.

We consume good memories like drugs—looking back at our pictures or notes to chase the first high of the lived moment, but never quite catching up to it. As we re-indulge in these moments, the dull ache of forcibly induced dopamine rises like bile in our chests, each time less potent than before. A once determined fist that has tired of knocking on the same door, its wrist too limp to cause that satisfying rap against the wood. 

We devour the bad memories with the same insatiable voracity. We mull over the word choice in our every text. We feed on each obsessively recorded moment in our notes apps. We revisit conversations that should have been forgotten the moment they happened. Like a siren, Nostalgia beckons, promising us signs of personal growth, or at least a little more self-awareness, should we return to these memories. And so every horrendous haircut, traumatic interaction, and cringe-worthy word written to a trusted friend—or a despised ex—it’s all there, preserved in our useless Library of Alexandria that we refuse to let burn. 

How can we expect to heal from a past that we can never escape? Whenever our ancestors said something to regret or experienced something profound, they would allow the memory of the moment to dissolve. The shame or embarrassment or joy would fade with time. Our cells may divide and regenerate every decade or so, the same way theirs did—but we prevent ourselves from shedding the skins of our past.

Whether it is guilt, loss, rage, or pure sentimentality that has you rummaging through your past, know that it is a practice we were never meant to engage in at this level. Purging our phones of our past is something we all must do for a semblance of primeval sanity. Clicking delete may feel like losing a part of ourselves, but it is the only way for us to grow. 

News, SSMU

SSMU President back in the limelight, but questions about absence remain

Darshan Daryanani is resuming his duties as  president of the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) after a five month break rife with contentious questions and debates regarding the circumstances of his absence. In an interview with The McGill Tribune, Daryanani raised several grievances he has against SSMU leadership, who, in turn, remain troubled by the still-confidential circumstances shrouding Daryanani’s vacancy.  

“It is a relief to be back fulfilling the duties I was elected to fulfill, but the transition has not been complete,” Daryanani said in an email to the Tribune. “Despite my formal reinstatement, I have still not been permitted to serve as Chairperson of the Board of Directors, nor to even attend its meetings, which severely hinders my ability to complete my duties.”

According to Daryanani, the SSMU Board of Directors (BoD) unilaterally decided to suspend him with pay—a salary of approximately $32,000—in a closed meeting that he was not present for. Daryanani believes that his suspension may have been racially motivated.

“When the Legislative Council posed questions about my absence, the other executives and board members continued to falsely claim that I [was] ‘on leave,’” Daryanani wrote. “This insidious rhetoric is typically used to target, delegitimize, and dehumanize people of color based on racist tropes which portray Black and Brown people as ‘unfit’ for positions of authority. This is a double standard that would not be leveled against a non-racialized person.” 

During the question period, councillors grilled Daryanani with questions about his suspension. Nathaniel Saad, U2 management representative, does not think the majority of SSMU members share the President’s enthusiasm about his return, saying he was distressed by the number of messages he received throughout the Council meeting from concerned student employees and members. 

“[People are feeling] very mixed emotions, but all negative, unfortunately,” Saad said. “People were texting me during the [Legislative Council] meeting saying, ‘can you please do something?’ or ‘I’m not feeling okay.’”

At the Nov. 25 Legislative Council meeting, Saad and management co-representative Mary Zhang put forth a motion calling for Daryanani’s resignation due to his prolonged absence that included a provision for a possible student body referendum on his impeachment. It passed with no opposition in the Council, but the SSMU BoD struck the motion down a week later. Saad told the Tribune that some SSMU members have preached out to him privately, calling for the motion’s revival.

Another topic that has garnered significant discussion throughout the year, and that Daryanani was pressed on at the Feb. 17 Legislative Council meeting in his role as president, is concern about SSMU’s workplace culture. According to Yara Coussa, U3 arts representative and BoD member, the world of politics is traditionally male-dominated, and SSMU is no exception.

“What I will say is that there is an ongoing culture of sexism at SSMU, and in the past, we have seen a certain type of personality run,” Coussa said in an interview with the Tribune. “You’re not very well-paid [and] giving up one year of your studies is a privilege […] most often held by people who are in places of power, […] so we end up in this position where SSMU is not an accessible space for gender minorities or anyone who doesn’t fit the standard—the hetero, cis, patriarchal standard.”

Though Daryanani believes the motion only passed Legislative Council due to the BoD’s deliberate mischaracterization of his absence, Saad contends that the crux of the motion was that Daryanani was holding a title and getting paid $32,000 from student fees for doing nothing, regardless of circumstance. 

“Whatever term we’re using, he wasn’t there and he wasn’t doing his job,” Saad said. “Having [his salary] donated to a charity, or putting it back toward students who need it […] would be a wise choice that demonstrates leadership, which we’ve been lacking.”

Daryanani says he hopes to earn the McGill community’s confidence again by fulfilling his duties and promises.“In light of the many issues surrounding SSMU’s workplace climate, my main priority is to act on my main platform promise, which is to make SSMU a more inclusive, equitable and accessible place,” Daryanani said. “I believe it is important now, more than ever, to put this promise at the forefront of the next few months.”

A previous version of this article stated that Nathaniel Saad said that Yara Coussa, U3 arts representative and BoD member, had reached out to him calling for the motion’s revival. In fact, Coussa never publicly called for the motion’s revival. The Tribune regrets the error.

McGill, News

McGill Committee responds to expression of concern regarding Dollarama warehouse workers, recommends no action

On Feb. 10, McGill’s Committee to Advise on Matters of Social Responsibility (CAMSR) issued its report on the expression of concern the McGill Corporate Accountability Project (MCAP) submitted to the university’s Board of Governors (BoG) in August 2021. The expression of concern regarded the alleged human rights abuses and mistreatment of migrant warehouse workers by Dollarama—a company that McGill had invested $3.3 million in as of Dec. 2020. The BoG shared the report with MCAP on Feb. 14 and informed them that CAMSR recommended McGill take no action.

MCAP originally penned its expression of concern after evidence surfaced throughout 2020 and 2021 of immigrant warehouse workers being mistreated by Dollarama. Reports detailed that workers were not receiving first aid after being injured on the job, or were being forced to work overtime for no pay, among other things.

The Association of McGill University Support Employees (AMUSE) and Montreal’s Immigrant Workers Centre (IWC) collaborated with MCAP throughout the process of creating the 16-page report, which included evidence compiled from multiple news reports, a 2016 report compiled by the Integrated Health and Social Services University Network Centre-Sud-de-l’Île-de-Montréal and more. 

According to Frédérique Mazerolle, a McGill media relations officer, CAMSR made its decision based on its inability to find evidence of “social injury,” which it defines as something that causes extreme harm, social or otherwise. Furthermore, Mazerolle explained that according to CAMSR’s mandate, an expression of concern must contain evidence of “a pattern of breeches of existing rules” or “a pattern of serious and continuing” violations of business behaviour standards to warrant action on the part of the university. 

“Although the submission provided testimonies of warehouse workers expressing concerns relating to their income, employment and health and safety conditions, these concerns appear to be limited in number, and are not sufficiently supported by evidence demonstrating the undertaking of other due processes, such as evidence considered by a tribunal or other regulatory body,” Mazerolle wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune

Samuel Helguero, 3L, co-leader of MCAP, and one of the primary writers of the expression of concern, was dismayed by CAMSR’s report. He argued that the criteria that the committee used to evaluate the evidence submitted was arbitrary and stricter than they would have been in a court of law. 

“The issue here is that CAMSR is just inventing standards,” Helguero said in an interview with the Tribune.  “I am convinced that if I brought this before a judge and they were deciding on the balance of probabilities, whether or not there was social injury here, reading through all this testimony, all the statistics and evidence, they would agree that there has been social injury.”

AMUSE’s communications and outreach officer, Katia Lo Innes, views CAMSR’s report as part of a larger pattern of McGill’s continued refusal to support living wages. McGill has stalled contract negotiations with McGill University’s Non-Academic Certified Association over wage increases, while floor fellows are also struggling to secure fair wages and more flexible meal plan options. 

“McGill continues to prove that it does not care about workers, nor does it care about social impact, it only cares about maintaining the status quo,” Lo Innes said in an interview with the Tribune. “Continuing to invest in Dollarama, a company that underpays its employees and reportedly pays third party employees and migrant workers illegal wages, shows where McGill’s priorities lie.”

Helguero agrees with Lo Innes. He views McGill’s inaction in the face of what he believes are blatant human rights abuse to be a clear lack of respect and care for immigrant workers. 

“Dollarama workers saying very similar things about their employer publicly […] should be believed, just as we have the tendency, and should have the tendency, to believe victims,” Helguero said. “It baffles me that someone could doubt their testimonies [….] McGill’s response shows insensitivity to the experience of workers.”

Science & Technology

How to care for caregivers: A new online dementia education program

Many caregivers for those living with dementia are family members and friends who sacrifice their time—and even compromise their own health—to care for their loved ones. However, family and friends often lack training and support, which can put them at risk of suffering from stress and burnout

A new program at McGill seeks to change that. Ten Online Modules over Ten Weeks for Adult Learners (TOTAL) eLearning is an online-based education program still in development that aims to educate caregivers about dementia.

Today, more than 55 million people worldwide are living with dementia, with the most common form being Alzheimer’s disease. As a progressive disease, dementia starts with memory loss and eventually progresses to losing the ability to eat, walk, and communicate. Compared to those caring for healthy seniors, caregivers for seniors with dementia feel more distress from the extended hours they put in, as well as navigating the cognitive, mood, and behavioural symptoms associated with dementia. 

This new program will be based on the in-person workshops from the McGill Dementia Education Program founded by Claire Webster, a certified Alzheimer’s care consultant. Webster, whose mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2006, felt wholly unprepared for taking on the role of a caregiver. 

“I got absolutely no information or education at all about the illness and as a result, it definitely had an impact on the quality of care that my mother received,” Webster said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “It had a ripple effect on my health and a ripple effect on my family.”

Webster started volunteering at various Alzheimer’s disease groups, teaching medical students about post-diagnostic care and eventually collaborating with McGill clinician-scientists Dr. Serge Gauthier and Dr. José Morais to develop caregiver workshops in 2017. The workshops covered topics such as safety and caregiver burnout, and consisted of simulated scenarios portrayed by actors. 

“[The workshops] had a very powerful effect, because a lot of these caregivers had never been educated [about dementia] before,” Webster said. 

However, these in-person workshops were limited to Montreal and could only accommodate a certain number of participants. Caregivers also needed to leave their patient partners to attend these workshops. Yet, even before the pandemic, Webster envisioned an online program that centres accessibility, flexibility, and support.

That is how the collaboration with McGill professor Tamara Carver began. Carver, the Director of the Office of Education Technology and E-learning Collaboration for Health (Ed-TECH) at the Steinberg Centre for Simulation and Interactive Learning is tasked with leading the transition of the program to an online format. Recently, the Public Health Agency of Canada granted the project over $750,000 in funding to develop the online program, which is set to launch in October 2022. Accessibility is key: The program will be delivered in both English and French, and tablets will be available on loan to participants in remote areas with minimal internet access.

The program will also undergo feedback from the caregiver participants to ensure that it can be reworked to accommodate changing concerns and demands.

“We want to know: Does it meet the needs of the participants? Do they feel more supported? Are they more confident in their ability as caregivers?” Carver said in an interview with the Tribune. “This is the exciting aspect about creating community education. Our goal is to help them and also learn from them in a community-based participatory approach.” 

Both Webster and Carver emphasized the importance of the various departments and institutions that came together to develop the Dementia Education program, upon which the TOTAL eLearning program will be based.
“What the Office of Ed-TECH is doing […] is one important project,” Carver said. “What the acronym stands for, to me, is really important [….] The ‘collaboration’ is really key to the success of the projects we take on.”

Commentary, Opinion

To strip or not to strip: The power of political nudity

Content warning: Mentions of sexual violence

Activism is an artform. Inspiring and resonating with enough people to make a difference often demands human connection through loud and creative means. Like spoken or written words, nudity carries endless potential for representing a cause, both within and beyond the feminist domain with which it is most commonly associated. Just last week in Montreal, demonstrators outside Hudson’s Bay went nude to mark National Anti-Fur Day, protesting The Bay and other companies’ manufacture and sale of fur. Of course, in most cultures, a mass of people marching down public streets in the nude carries shock value. Although naked protests are much more than a simple scheme to attract public awareness to a cause, in politics, nudity is a metaphorical goldmine. 

While the Free the Nipple movement has seen significant victories in past years, nudity can be an effective political tool against more than just challenging sexist indecent exposure laws. It can also represent masses “stripped” of their fundamental rights, or it can spotlight the brutality of government, industry, and law enforcement in its juxtaposition to the fragile and vulnerable human body. It can articulate themes of transparency, to protest corruption and politicians’ shady behaviour—or individuality, to protest mass consumerism and the hegemony of large corporations. 

This is what protestors had in mind when they flooded the streets leading up to Montreal’s 2012 Formula One Grand Prix, one of Canada’s largest global tourist events. Among others, Convergence des luttes anticapitalistes led nightly naked protests against the Grand Prix and its elitist stakeholders. “You’re sexy, you’re cute, take off your riot suit!” chanted protestors in response to police repression. 

From a feminist perspective, the symbolism is even more powerful. For many feminist activists, marching together in the nude means regaining control over both the body itself and predominant gendered narratives of femininity. Through bold messages and paint smears on their exposed bodies, protestors shock bystanders and media away from romanticized, delicate, and inferior depictions of femininity. Men who leer at and objectify these protestors do not invalidate the intention behind their nudity—principally, it is her choice, no matter his reaction. 

Protestors’ decision to participate in nude protests highlights women’s autonomy over their own bodies, an issue central to sexual violence, exploitation, and reproductive justice. For example, at the 2015 Slutwalk, a topless protest in Rio De Janeiro, up to 3,000 women marched against a sexist bill introduced by Eduardo Cunha that would require people in Brazil who wanted an abortion to provide evidence that they had been raped or faced medical danger due to the pregnancy. Similarly, in 2016, women in Sierra Leone protested naked against then-President Ernest Bai Koroma’s scrapping of a safe abortion bill under pressure from religious leaders and their foreign funders. This intentional nudity sends a clear message that a woman’s body, rights, choices, and decisions are hers, and hers only.

Regaining control through nude protests also subverts the overt sexual objectification of women. At the Brazil Slutwalk in Rio De Janeiro, nude protestors explained that they sought to challenge the narrative that women face sexual violence at their own fault because of what they choose to wear. Likewise, several Grand Prix protestors challenged the increased sexual exploitation and harassment that women in Montreal experienced during the event by tourists who then left before police initiated proper investigations.

Commenting on the 2012 Grand Prix demonstrations, former Premier Jean Charest claimed naked protests attacked the wrong people, disrupting the public instead of productively vocalizing concerns to the government. But nudity provokes action too. It is worth more than just its shock value and can be equally as intentional, meaningful, and targeted as other forms of protest. For example, in 2012, many Montreal students protested nearly naked to challenge proposed tuition hikes in Quebec, contributing to unrest that resulted in then-Premier Pauline Marois cancelling the proposal. During this demonstration, the students’ nudity did not prevent aggressive police repression with tear gas, batons, and pepper spray, but rather highlighted its arbitrary brutality. 

The image of police in full riot suits chasing down completely exposed demonstrators is worth a thousand words. Indeed, this unconventional form of protest is about more than provoking double-takes and controversial conversations. It is legitimate and effective activism: The human body, in all its diversity and vulnerability, is extremely impactful.

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