The rapid rise in cases of the highly transmissibleOmicron variant has spurred the Canadian government to implement a restriction requiring all international students entering the country to be fully vaccinated, as of Jan. 15. The Quebec College of Physicians has also called on the government to enforce stricter vaccination requirements, such as mandating three doses of an accepted vaccine in order to hold a vaccine passport.
The Canadian government considers a person to be fully vaccinated if they have received two doses of an approved vaccine and it has been 14 days past their second dose. Booster shots—a third dose of a COVID-19 vaccine—became available in Canada on Jan. 4 and became available to those aged 18 and over in Quebec on Jan. 14. However, Dr.Theresa Tam informed Canadians that the government would not change the definition of a fully vaccinated person.
Frédérique Mazerolle, a McGill media relations officer, told The McGill Tribune in an email that the administration will respect the Quebec government’s evolving directives regarding the vaccine passport.
“At McGill, vaccination passports are required to access a wide range of non-essential activities on- and off-campus,” Mazerolle wrote. “[The] university intends to apply the passport to the fullest extent possible under law to provide strong incentives for members of the McGill community to get vaccinated.”
Some international students, however, do not think McGill is doing enough to guide students through the changing safety measures. Anna Tripier, U1 Math and Biology, who is returning to Montreal from the United States, feels that the administration has shown a lack of concern for the wellbeing of its students.
“Though McGill has put a lot of effort into handling vaccination by following the Quebec laws, I’m actually disappointed with the lack of resources and effort McGill has shown toward helping its students and faculty feel safe,” Tripier told the Tribune.
To help rectify this, Tripier suggests that more testing sites should be made available, along with higher quality tests. More importantly, she believes a university-wide vaccine mandate would be an effective tool in combating COVID-19.
“I strongly support [a] decision to mandate vaccines,” Tripier said. “I think it’s the fastest way to slow the spread of COVID and reduce the amount of people heavily impacted by it.”
Lucille Applegate, a U1 Arts student from France, too, is in support of a campus-wide vaccine mandate. The ethics and legality of requiring vaccines has, however, been hotly debated at McGill, with professors from the faculty of Law warning the university of the liability risk of not imposing a vaccine mandate. Applegate believes that those hesitant about getting vaccinated should “trust science,” even if “it’s new and can be scary.”
Students’ discontent with McGill’s vaccination policies also extends to the federal government’s regulations. Tripier, for instance, has mixed feelings about the Canadian government’s new travel restriction because she worries some international students may not have access to vaccines. Applegate, on the other hand, feels this new rule is a natural progression in Canada’s regulations.
“I think this guideline is the only logical sequence of what Canada’s policy has been for the last few months, especially with the vaccine passport that has been in place,” Applegate remarked. As of Jan. 13, the McGill COVID-19 Situation Dashboard reported that 96.3 per cent of students were “adequately vaccinated.” Statistics regarding faculty and staff were last updated on Dec. 9. At the time, McGill reported that 92.2 per cent of McGill faculty and staff were adequately vaccinated. The Quebec government considers “adequately vaccinated” people to be those who have received two doses of a COVID-19 vaccine, who caught COVID-19 in the last six months, or who caught COVID-19 more than six months ago and have received one dose of a COVID vaccine.
Content Warning: Mentions of drug addiction and sexual violence.
Even for university students, TV shows that centre teenage characters in and around high school have widespread appeal. Skins, which premiered in 2007, and Euphoria, which premiered in 2019, stand apart from other shows for their brutal depictions of partying, drug use, sex, and mental illness. Although only the latter is still airing, The McGill Tribune weighs how each show marks the dark teen drama genre.
Skins: E4’s drama that transformed teen TV for good — Signy Harnad
In 2007, audiences were introduced to a group of teenagers from Bristol who got high on drugs, had promiscuous sex, and swore like sailors. The world would never be the same.
The British E4 network commissioned this television series, Skins, as their flagship show. Penned by father-and-son writing duo Bryan Elsley and Jamie Brittain, it was set to be a “show about teenagers, but one that actually means something.” The series zeroes in on a group of mates in Bristol who sleep with each other, attend raucous house parties, and drink to excess. More than 10 years later, it remains an authentic, wickedly funny, and indulgently offensive slice of late 2000s British teenage life.
For six seasons—and one final run we will not speak of—Skins veered from nightclub escapades to existential reflections on mortality, mental health issues, and smoking more “spliffs” than you know you ought to. It treated viewers to a gold rush of generation-defining characters, ranging from the rebellious to the quirky—I remember having a soft spot for Mike Bailey’s endearing Sid.
And then there was the way the show was able to overhaul its image every two years by culling the entire cast across three generations of characters. This not only enabled viewers to meet a brand new group of teens every two seasons, but also served as a glaring reminder that no matter how immutable this time in our lives may seem, it does end—we grow up.
Perhaps what was most groundbreaking about Skins, though, was that the personal struggles of the characters were not simply the glossy dramas of adults transplanted onto teenagers—programming that dominated TV schedules in the early 2000s (think Gossip Girl, The O.C., andOne Tree Hill). The stories were more raw, honest, and relatable.
Despite all its ups and downs and occasional missteps, Skins became symptomatic of a pre-Instagram, post-indie era, providing an intimate snapshot of teen life in all its idealistic glory. Granted, during certain over-the-top moments, such as when fan-favourite Freddie is clubbed to death by a rogue psychiatrist, Skins really takes the I don’t remember that happening at my high school cake. Nevertheless, the show was never meant to depict anything but a state of sustained mayhem, much like adolescence itself.
Euphoria: HBO’s teen noir that 2022 needs — Paulina Kasak
HBO’s Euphoria first premiered in June 2019. The series is an adaptation of an Israeli show of the same name, which first aired in 2012. This epic series continues to make a mark on teen pop culture, simultaneously mesmerizing and utterly shocking the viewer through scenes of drug abuse, sex, drinking, bullying, and more. It is this alluring taboo content that paints the perfect picture of chaotic and misguided teenhood.
The series’ title best encapsulates the internal goals of the show, which portrays the darkest moments, thoughts, and actions of a group of high school teens as they try to find joy by any means possible. Euphoria’s teenagers go to extreme lengths in search of what they hope will make them feel alive. The second season, which premiered on Jan. 9, focusses on Rue (Zendaya), who continues to struggle with drug addiction, while other beloved characters such as Cassie (Sydney Sweeney) and Maddy (Alexa Demie) deal with the vicious repercussions of being constantly objectified by almost everyone around them. Though only two episodes have been released, season two seems to surpass the shock value of its predecessor in the best way possible.
There is something daring about placing teens at the centre of darkness and violence. Although it isn’t the first show to do this, Euphoria captures dark teen drama in a way that others do not—it inspires empathy for its characters, despite each of their fatal flaws. The viewer is often caught between the desire to watch on and feelings of overwhelming discomfort in watching teens experience such hardship. As appalling as Euphoria’s characters and their actions can get, the series provides realistic commentary on the realities of contemporary American teenagers. It is the undeniable plausibility of these violent mental and physical experiences that make the series what it is.
The series also offers a captivating take on the rather melancholic lives of this group of teens, destigmatizing topics such as mental illness and abusive relationships, rather than romanticizing them as other TV predecessors have done. It is the series’ inclusivity and bravery, in all respects, that marks it as a must-watch unique to contemporary culture.
Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut The Lost Daughter, released on Netflix on Dec. 31,contains all the familiar ingredients of a substantial horror film: Dark omens, riveting tension, and a score that has the audience constantly bracing for impact. Despite the film’s mundane activity and warm setting, its chilling subtext leaves viewers clawing into their seats with anticipation. When it comes to evoking unsettling emotions, Gyllenhaal doesn’t settle for child’s play—pun intended. In lieu of demonic jumpscares or tales of twisted abuse, the film tackles a forbidden subversion of what is perceived as innate human nature: The begrudging mother.
Said mother, Leda Caruso (the brilliant Olivia Colman) is a 48-year-old professor of Italian literature on summer vacation on a fictional Greek island. Almost as soon as she arrives, dark bodements encroach, including a bowl of rotting fruit, a piercing cicada, and an obnoxiously loud Italian-American family who interfere with the quiet ambiance of the beach. Although these phenomena may seem like normal disruptions one would expect on vacation, the shuddering tension imbued in the cinematography warns of something much more sinister.
Nina (Dakota Johnson), the enchanting and languid young mother of the American family, and her three-year-old daughter, immediately capture Leda’s attention. When Leda notices the child go briefly missing, spurring Nina into a maternal panic, she is flooded with memories. The audience then meets twenty-something Leda (now portrayed by Jessie Buckley) fraught and splashing about in search of her own daughter Bianca at that same beach. Alarm colours her voice enough to prepare the viewer for imminent tragedy—but it doesn’t come until far later in the film.
When the climactic reveal unearths itself in Leda’s dialogue with Nina, it is not at all as harrowing as the viewer expects. The film sets viewers up for a stomach-churning revelation. But instead, we learn that Leda, battered inside and in great need of respite, renounced her role as a mother and left her daughters with her husband (Jack Farthing) for three years. The plot reveal is still incredibly unnerving because of how transgressive Leda’s aversion to motherhood seems. It is often said that motherhood is a crucially enlightening stage in a woman’s self-actualization; that it gives women a key purpose. Whether in film or in life, mothers are expected to willingly forgo their identities and submit to their duties. Like the Virgin Mary, they are to be selfless child-bearers devoid of sensuality. And above all, they are to relish in these sacrifices.
Leda’s rejection of motherhood—however temporary—is deeply unsettling. Rarely is maternal defiance explored on screen, despite the much deeper sins that television has dared to portray. Of course, there have certainly been representations of anti-mother characters, as seen in Hereditary, Carrie, Cinderella. But almost always, if a mother character shows the slightest bit of resentment or dissatisfaction toward her role, she is immediately painted as a villain.
It is immensely refreshing to see a character like Leda, one with such rich complexity that the audience simply cannot hate her, despite her selfish actions. Though the responsibilities of young parenthood seemed to weigh on her like a crushing burden, the film depicts Leda as anything but uncaring. In one scene, for instance, Leda takes a hairpin and combs it through the young mother Nina’s hair, securing it in her hat. Nina melts under Leda’s nurturing touch, closing her eyes to savour being looked after for once. Leda also often calls her now-grown children, smiling and at peace, and inquires about their lives, suggesting that her maternal relationship with them has become easier. In her flashbacks throughout the film, younger Leda can indeed be harsh and vengeful toward her children. But she can also be radiant, inquisitive, and at times even ardent with her daughters. Colman and Buckley’s stirring performances make it all the more impossible to condemn the character.
Leda’s absence, though undeniably selfish, was a desperate move for self-preservation. Women of her stock—who feel plundered by motherhood, not bolstered by it—do not only exist in fiction. Gyllenhaal does an excellent job introducing this insanely human posture to film. One can only hope that women continue to be portrayed as truly autonomous individuals rather than one-dimensional caregivers.
When the Olympic flag rises in Beijing’s National Stadium this February, it will not be a moment of prestige or celebration. It will be a painful reminder that, in the eyes of the world, the horrors and abuses of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can be swept aside to make way for a flashy spectacle. To us Hongkongers fortunate enough to speak from the relative safety of Canada, the event symbolizes how the CCP has jailed or exiled an entire generation of young Hongkongers in its quest to crush dissent and manufacture a sanitized image of China for the world. McGill students must push their Members of Parliament to support a full boycott of the Beijing 2022 Winter Olympics.
Despite the ever-worsening human rights situation in China, preparations are going ahead as planned for what some activists are now calling the “Genocide Games.” The world must not make the same mistake that it did in 1936: Despite a global “boycott” campaign against the Berlin “Nazi” Olympics, many countries ultimately still sent their athletes to the Games, which Hitler used to promote the Nazi regime. Consequently, an opportunity to censure his regime was lost. However, Olympic boycotts have been effective in the past: In 1976, 22 African countries boycotted the Montreal Olympics in protest of the International Olympic Commitee’s indifference toward apartheid in South Africa, and as a result, Canada lost one million dollars—equivalent to nearly five million dollars today––in hotel and ticket sales. A boycott of the Genocide Games would deny the CCP a chance to use media coverage of the Games to distract worldwide viewers from their various human rights atrocities.
Some counter that a boycott is detrimental to the well-being of the athletes—the Olympics only happen once every four years; a boycott would mean that athletes lose their chance at competing at one of the highest levels of sport. While this is true, it is important to keep in mind who pays the price for these Olympic dreams. For every young Canadian who receives a medal on the winner’s podium in Beijing, there are thousands of young Uyghurs, Tibetans, and Hongkongers who remain locked behind bars. Long after the medal-winners and foreign journalists have departed, the targets of the CCP’s ire, left behind in China, pay the price.
Politics and sports are inseparable; nowhere is this truer than in China, where political freedom is severely repressed. The recent case of Peng Shuai, a tennis star who vanished after daring to accuse a former senior Communist Party official of sexual assault, shows that even Olympians enjoy no special exemption in the eyes of the regime. In support of Peng, the Women’s Tennis Association has rightly pulled out of China entirely—the equivalent of a full boycott of the country’s actions.
Those looking forward to the sights and spectacle of the Beijing Olympics should consider how many lives they would be okay sacrificing for the sake of a sporting event and its associated advertising revenue. Consider how many people will be silenced to appease a repressive dictatorship. While moral questions are rarely easy to answer, hopefully in this case, the human cost of business as usual with the Genocide Games is clear.
All Athletics and Recreation programming at McGill came to a halt on Jan. 6, when the university suspended athletic activities—including both recreational and varsity sports—due to the rapidly spreading Omicron variant. In a Jan. 11 update, the university announced that a limited amount of individual athletics programming, such as running, would return on Jan. 17. Intramurals and sports clubs are to remain suspended.
In an email to The McGill Tribune, Zachary McRae, Athletics and Recreation’s communications officer, explained that the closure of the fitness centres and cancellation of sporting activities was in adherence to Quebec’s public health mandate. On Jan. 13, the government stipulated that the 10 p.m. curfew would be lifted on Jan. 17, but that gyms and indoor recreation facilities would remain closed.
“Athletics and Recreation [now] has permission to resume offering jogging, singles tennis, singles badminton, recreational skating and lap swimming,” McRae said. “Advanced bookings will be required to participate.”
Assistant Manager of Intramurals Ryne Bondy informed the Tribune in an email that there is no date planned for team intramurals to resume, as government restrictions continue to prohibit team sports. When the government eases these restrictions, Athletics and Recreation is considering implementing a shortened season, similar in format to Fall 2021, that would consist of only four games, rather than the typical six. Bondy explained that a plan is in place in the event that team intramurals are allowed to continue.
“We have everything ready to go and just need the green light to safely resume from public health,” Bondy wrote. “We had numerous protocols in place in the fall, increased buffer between matches, roster limits, no fans, increased sanitation. These can easily be transferred to the winter season and won’t be new for our participants.”
The suspension of activities has also affected the operations of McGill’s many sports clubs. Mei Yang, an executive of McGill’s Naginata Club, explained in an email that the suspension of in-person activities has complicated the training process for members as partner drills like sparring are not possible.
“In the past, we have run online practices and other social activities, but the scope of techniques that we can teach beginners online is drastically reduced,” Yang wrote. “Anything beyond the very basics is near impossible to properly teach without adequate space and in-person advising, so beginners tend to suffer the most during online practices.”
Akiko Nakagawa, another Naginata Club executive, agreed that the suspension has been difficult for athletics clubs because online training is not as effective in maintaining one’s physical fitness.
“Naginata is a very technical practice, so we can all definitely feel our skills getting rusty after not practicing for a few months,” Nakagawa wrote. “It’s also pretty decent aerobic exercise, so I’m definitely more out of shape now than I was when we were practicing in person.”
Yang explained that club activities serve as an important opportunity for social interaction. In lieu of in-person activities, the club plans to organize game nights, movie screenings, and online viewings of tournament videos.
“Normally we socialize during or after our in-person practices, but since that’s no longer possible under the suspension we plan to move our socialization online through platforms like Discord,” Yang wrote. “The Naginata Club is the one of the few places where I can consistently talk to people who I consider to be friends, and taking this opportunity away deprives all club members of much-needed human contact.”
Regenerative medicine is an exciting and rapidly developing field that involves replacing or regenerating human tissues to re-establish their normal function. In the lab, scientists are trying to create and improve biomaterials to use for tissue repair.
For instance, vocal cords can be severely damaged in patients who suffer from laryngeal cancer. For these patients, as well as others with vocal cord damage, one promising therapy involves injecting a biomaterial into the affected folds to regenerate them. However, existing biomaterials for this procedure have significant limitations.
First, the implant should allow the cells of the damaged vocal cord to exchange nutrients and waste with their environment and to migrate into the implant for proper incorporation. Therefore, the material needs to be porous. Because a large invasive surgery to implant the biomaterial into the vocal cords could be detrimental to the patient, it needs to be injectable. Finally, given that the vocal cords are extremely dynamic due to their high vibrational frequency, the biomaterial needs to be resistant to high levels of mechanical stress.
With existing biomaterials for such procedures failing to exhibit these three crucial characteristics, patients often suffer the repercussions of unsuccessful implants and frequent re-injections.
Recently, a team of scientists in the Department of Mechanical Engineering at McGill created a highly effective biomaterial made of hydrogel that respects all three requirements. Hydrogel is a material made up of at least 10 per cent water, as well as large biomolecules called polymers. Its composition resembles the extracellular matrix found between the cells in our bodies, making it very biocompatible.
Jianyu Li, an assistant professor in the Department of Mechanical Engineering at McGill and the Canada Research Chair in Biomaterials and Musculoskeletal Health who co-led the study, explained the drawbacks of current hydrogel materials.
“The problem with injecting hydrogel is that it becomes condensed when it goes through the needle and therefore any pre-formed pores will collapse,” Li said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “We designed a hydrogel in which the pores form spontaneously post-injection.”
To acquire this special property, they used an ingredient they kept secret until the publication of their paper in Advanced Science in November 2021. It’s called chitosan, a natural polymer found in the shells of crabs, shrimps, and lobsters that is able to stay liquid in acidic solutions instead of solidifying right away. Once it is injected into the human body—which has a neutral pH—phase separation occurs and the material solidifies, creating a rigid matrix with pores.
“In the previous materials, it would take a very long time for the cells to migrate, as the pores weren’t large enough,” said Guangyu Bao, a Ph.D. candidate in mechanical engineering who co-led the study, in an interview with the Tribune. “The material would need to be degraded for the cells to infiltrate the implant. Our material has pores big enough to allow the nutrients to diffuse easily, and the cells to migrate into the hydrogel, effectively fusing it with the existing vocal cord.”
This biomaterial could also be used to repair other mechanically dynamic tissues such as the heart, the lungs, and musculoskeletal tissue, and even steady tissue, such as that of the kidney.
“No matter what kind of tissue you want to repair, you always need the material to be porous for the nutrients to be delivered and for the cells to survive, and you always want this minimally invasive approach, so, injectability,” Li said.
The team’s hydrogel can also be used for purposes outside of regenerative medicine, such as in the field of microfluidics. Microfluidic devices can be thought of as small chips with circuits of fluids. Their applications are vast: For example, they can be used to model biological systems. According to Bao, scientists are even using microfluidics to study how drug treatments against COVID-19 would work in the lungs.
“It’s mostly being done in 2D [on a chip],” Bao said. “With our biomaterial, we can form a 3D environment [with the fluid flowing throughout the porous hydrogel], which gives a better mimicry of the human tissue. It could possibly change the way people do microfluidics.”
The Omicron wave is exposing and exacerbating a pre-existing crisis in Quebec: The failure to invest in long-term care (LTC). Throughout the pandemic, Quebec has seen disproportionately high COVID-19 death rates among its senior population, particularly those residing in long-term care and housing facilities (CHSLD), or LTC, facilities. During the pandemic’s first wave, Quebec reported nearly 4,000 deaths in CHSLDs, a figure constituting almost 70 per cent of all provincial deaths. Though the issues contributing to these outcomes pre-date the pandemic, with cases surging, the lack of regulation has become all the more clear. The alignment of public opinion and political pressure, combined with the emergence of the Omicron variant, make transformative approaches to policy possible and necessary. The Quebec government must seize this opportunity to reform the LTC sector and respond to demands for higher standards in CHSLD facilities.
Provincial funding debates and national healthcare commissions have continuously neglected long term care. The sector’s designation as an extended care service under the Canada Health Act has prevented sufficient data collection for tracking service practices and facility updates. Nevertheless, the fatal consequences of unchecked standards have surfaced throughout the pandemic: Outdated, overcrowded facilities are reporting the highest COVID-19 outbreaks and hospitalization rates, which experts trace to long waitlists for CHSLD accommodations and the province’s insufficient bed supply. The government has attempted to address this issue by creating makeshift rooms in private nursing homes, forcing families to pay for care out of pocket. However, these short-term arrangements compromise safety standards while shifting the burden of care disproportionately onto female relatives, as well as immigrants, who constitute one third of Canada’s personal support workers (PSWs). Premier François Legault has praised the valiant efforts of healthcare workers, but without a financially supported commitment to improve CHSLD conditions contributing to the virus’ transmission, his statements lack the sincerity and evidence needed to restore public faith in the LTC system.
As the province faces several large-scale issues such as the housing crisis and costly vaccination campaigns, LTC is just one of many areas demanding funding from a limited fiscal pool. Nevertheless, with nine CHSLDs designated under Quebec’s red zone as of December 31, and with high Omicron infection rates among seniors, Quebec cannot afford to prolong momentous policy solutions.
Political pressure from the Bloc Quebecois is also stifling Quebec’s LTC policy reform. To address overcrowding and service negligence, policymakers across Canada have proposed viable options such as attaching an LTC benefit to national pension plans, establishing an infrastructure bank to challenge private sector monopolies, or creating an immigration stream dedicated to PSW recruitment. However, despite the province’s inability to independently fund the necessary changes, the adoption of policies emphasizing federal assistance is unlikely—Bloc Quebecois leader Yves-François Blanchet accused Ottawa of using the pandemic to strengthen its national grip over provincial jurisdictions. Quebec’s leaders must decide what to prioritize: The province’s suffering senior population or fabricated threats to provincial sovereignty.
The complex combination of factors fueling Quebec’s crisis makes immediate sector-wide revamps unrealistic. Still, Quebecers are justified in demanding that formal steps be taken to address LTC issues typically overlooked in provincial political agendas. Even if immediate infrastructure projects are unfeasible, Quebec could start by following B.C.’s approach, which restricts LTC workers to one residence to minimize infection transmission and gives all staff full-time public employee status rather than union worker status. Without confirmation of increased sector funding, and the public still awaiting a testimony on deaths within CHSLDs from Quebec’s Senior Minister, accusations of the government’s disregard for residents in the long term care system may be more warranted than Legault cares to admit.
Given Omicron’s rapid transmission rates, prohibiting family visits in CHSLDs is scientifically sound. However, when the same government has continuously refused to address long-standing, sector-wide issues contributing to preventable deaths, moral justifications for civil disobedience gain traction.
Setbacks caused by the Omicron variant demand faith in public institutions. If Quebec’s government fails to respond to cries for LTC policy reform in this critical moment, they can count their opportunity to learn from pre-pandemic mistakes wasted.
The week of Jan. 3, Charlie*, U1 Medicine, said they contacted the Student Wellness Hub’s phone line every day of the week in an attempt to book an appointment for their partner, who was suffering from a concussion. Instead of receiving support at the Wellness Hub, which would be fully covered under McGill’s insurance plan, they were redirected to a hospital emergency room where there can be up-front costs for international students. According to Charlie, the operator informed them that all of the Wellness Hub’s medical staff had been reassigned to public hospitals as a result of the province’s surge in COVID-19 hospitalizations.
“[The Wellness Hub is] actually luring you into almost a false sense of security, ” Charlie said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “If I was a sick person who was getting worse day by day, I might avoid going to the ER because of the expense and instead […] hope that I get an appointment the next day and then the next day [at the Wellness Hub] and get sicker [in the meantime].”
Frédérique Mazerolle, a McGill media relations officer, clarified that the hours physicians dedicate to the Wellness Hub are only ancillary, meaning they do not fulfil the Plans régionaux d’effectifs médicaux (PREM) or activités médicales particulières (AMP) requirements obligatory to practice medicine in Quebec.
“Our physicians are those who offer their time to us after fulfilling all these government-mandated requirements,” Mazerolle wrote in an email to the Tribune. “It is important to note that while we do serve a large number of students […], our services are not intended to serve as the primary care provider for our students.”
Charlie believes that the Wellness Hub should be more transparent with the student body, and should notify students when they are unable to meet demands or handle emergency situations.
“[The Wellness Hub] is being untruthful in that they are not clearly telling people that they really don’t have any appointments,” Charlie said. “[Limited access to physicians] is still a problem for the university because they need to offer their students healthcare and not just the illusion of healthcare, plus a fee that you have to pay for that illusion of healthcare.”
Arwyn Regimbal, U1 Social Work, sees many of the Wellness Hub’s weaknesses as indicative of a larger institutional defect, and expressed frustration with the Wellness Hub’s reactive, rather than proactive, mental health resources.
“If you just ignore minor health needs now, eventually they’ll be bigger health needs,” Regimbal said in an interview withthe Tribune. “[The Wellness Hub’s counselling services] are very short term, i.e. crisis counselling, and I was told that long-term counselling isn’t really a thing [the Wellness Hub offers]. From the systemic view, I understand [that] mental health in Quebec is at a crisis point, but at the same time, keep.meSAFE is not an appropriate solution in the long term.”
The Wellness Hub has faced persistent criticism over its inaccessibility, prolonged wait times, and limited appointment availability.
Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) Mental Health Commissioner Julia Caddy acknowledged that student mental health has reached a critical point in light of the fluctuating and uncertain public health situation. Caddy shared Regimbal’s view that the Wellness Hub offers limited mental health services, but believes that SSMU can provide an alternative for students.
“One strategy is to meet students where they’re at by having more targeted initiatives and drop-in sessions for students to unload […] both as a social environment but also as support,” Caddy said in an interview with the Tribune. “If we can distribute people to the [options] that are actually relevant to them, it will decrease the demand and increase the capacity of the right services for the right people.”
*Charlie’s name has been changed to preserve their anonymity.
McGill students with on-campus jobs are facing new struggles since the latest COVID-19 case surge driven by the Omicron variant. The provincial lockdown closed many non-essential sites of employment on campus, from Gerts Student Bar to the Athletics and Recreation facility, leaving some student employees without income. For students with essential jobs, on the other hand, the surge in cases has meant pressures to work over-time amid staffing shortages.
Student jobs deemed essential include research employees working in Tier 1 activities and select student service positions offering in-person support, such as the Peer Health Ambassadors at the Student Wellness Hub. Students with jobs in McGill’s residences are also still working in person.
Non-essential campus jobs have moved to a virtual setting or closed altogether, a move that has impacted students like Sabrina Ahmed, U2 Arts, who works as an office assistant at the currently closed Athletics and Recreations facility. Ahmed’s shifts scheduled throughout January were cancelled following the lockdown, impacting her ability to support herself financially.
“All the income from my on-campus job went towards paying my rent,” wrote Ahmed. “Since I am an international student, the tuition fees I am required to pay are quite high, so my job was a way for me to contribute to my living expenses and reduce the burden on my parents. Now with no income of my own, it has definitely put more pressure on my parents to pay for my living costs on top of already high tuition fees.”
In an email to the Tribune, McGill media relations officer Frédérique Mazerolle listed some of McGill’s channels of financial support, including one specifically created for those dealing with a loss of income stemming from lockdown—the In-Course Financial Aid program.
“Since the pandemic began, the Scholarships & Student Aid Office has received tremendous support from the University, donors and the provincial government to assist students with unexpected financial barriers,” wrote Mazerolle. “Nearly $6-million in one-time funding has been used to provide student bursaries for COVID-related situations—including remote learning tools, quarantine and lost or interrupted employment.”
For some students in permitted on-campus positions, the spike in COVID-19 cases has made their jobs more strenuous. According to Beatrice Robert, U2 Arts and a floor fellow in multiple residences, there have been pressing staff shortages due to coworkers getting sick, resulting in frequent overtime work.
“I worked 50 plus hours [and] had to be called within 12 hours of a shift, because [another employee] was down for 10 days,” Robert said. “It’s just really tiring. But at the same time you try to be really flexible, because you know, it’s hard for everyone. And if you are available, you do not want to say no.”
The lack of adequate personal protective equipment on campus is another issue facing essential student employees. Though McGill offers free procedural masks, there is no widespread access to N95s or KN95s, which are now deemed essential for proper protection against the Omicron variant.
McGill’s Post-Graduate Students’ Society (PGSS) held its first virtual council meeting of the Winter 2022 semester on Jan. 12. Secretary-General Kristi Kouchakji announced the society’s efforts to improve COVID-19 safety standards for graduate students, such as distributing higher quality masks in graduate-student work areas. Councillors also discussed possible ways to distribute the pool of money from the now-defunct Legal Support Fund, and heard a presentation from the McGill Trainees’ Poverty Observatory on how to make the Faculty of Medicine’s harmonized stipend policy more equitable.
With the imminent return to on-campus learning on Jan. 24, Kouchakji noted that the PGSS is working closely with McGill facilities to add more mask dispensers in graduate school buildings and work areas.
“I’m also very excited to say that we are in the early stages of organizing access to some higher quality masks for our members,” Kouchakji said. “N-95s, KN-95s, KN-94s, and any other mask-related PPE that you might want to use on campus can be put in the recycling bins, so that’s very exciting.”
The requirements to enter buildings such as The PGSS Thomson House—which will soon require proof of three vaccine doses for entry—were also discussed. Councillors then spoke about the continuation of online extracurricular activities for the foreseeable future.
Financial Affairs Officer Sophie Osiecki held discussion with various councillors regarding best how to distribute the funds accrued from the Legal Support Fund. The society ceased collecting student fees for the fund as of Fall 2021. Osiecki advocated for putting the funds—which total approximately $125,000—toward McGill’s Need-Based Bursary Program. Councillors offered other suggestions, such as subsidizing the society’s legal protection plan, donating the money to the McGill Wellness Hub, or contributing it to the Society’s Special Projects Fund. In the end, they decided to postpone the verdict, encouraging members to send in their ideas via email for how they want the funds allocated.
The society’s final topic for the evening regarded a presentation by Morgan Maher, a third-year Philosophy PhD candidate, on behalf of the McGill Trainees’ Poverty Observatory—a group of student trainees from various departments advocating against student poverty. Maher’s presentation recounted a number of recommendations the Observatory has brought forward to the Faculty of Medicine regarding their Stipend Policy, including raising stipends. This Stipend Policy is intended to provide complete tuition and fee coverages, standardized living allowances, and a standardized policy on scholarship Top-Up awards for all thesis-based graduate students in the Faculty of Medicine.
Maher acknowledged that the policy is a step in the right direction for improving living standards for graduate students, but that it fails to address student poverty. According to Maher, the Harmonized Stipend Policy does not account for inflation and increasing costs of living. Even in 2019, when the policy was originally written, the living stipends were insufficient in providing students with enough money to live above Quebec’s poverty line.
During the question period following Maher’s presentation, a representative from the McGill Biology Graduate Student Association (BGSA) detailed how Biology Graduate stipends can be deducted if students are also working as a teaching assistant (TA).
“It is written in the [Department of Biology’s] contracts […] that TA pay can be deducted from stipends, meaning that, in some cases, you are actively punished for TA-ing,” the representative said. “It’s creating situations where some people working in the same lab are being paid drastically different amounts.”
Upon learning of the deducted TA wages, Kouchakji announced, “I am really mad, and I am going to close my microphone and keep yelling at the walls now.”
Soundbite:
“Deducting TA wages or [research assistant] wages from your funding is not acceptable, it is a form of wage theft,” said Kouchakji in response to the BGSA representative. “Doing it specifically with TA wages is actually a violation of the AGSEM collective agreement [….] This is not meant to be happening and the new funding letter template, when it was given out to [graduate program directors], made it explicitly clear that you cannot do this, as per the terms of the AGSEM collective agreement.”
Moment of the Meeting:
Students from other departments, such as Languages, Literatures, and Cultures, aired frustrations about how their living stipends are inadequate for paying McGill’s tuition. Kouchakji detailed how, in her program, Communication Studies, students begin to receive lower stipend payments after four years of graduate work at McGill, effectively penalizing them for continuing in the program and doing research under the McGill name.