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Editorial, Opinion

Action is due against sexism in SSMU

On Sept. 22, The McGill Daily published an article shedding light on a long-standing culture of sexism and misogyny rampant within the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU). The article featured many accounts of past and present SSMU members who called out a culture of sexism within the Society. In response, SSMU’s vice-president (VP) Internal Affairs, Sarah Paulin, sent out an email that did not cite the article and only made vague reference to its contents. Although this is not the first time women have spoken out about their treatment within student government at McGill, it would appear that little improvement has occurred over the past several years. The article exposes only a fraction of a larger systemic failure, laying bare the need for urgent change in the immediate-term, and a cultural overhaul over the long-term. Structural change is imperative and while this is ultimately SSMU’s cross to bear, the organization will only take concrete action if students refuse to let these pervasive issues go unresolved. Students must move away from the accepted—and even expected—culture of apathy toward SSMU and reject its normalized toxicity to make substantive change possible. 

Upon entering McGill, many first-year students are taught, whether by upper-years or frosh leaders, that SSMU is a deeply flawed organization not worth engaging with. This rhetoric does have some backing to it—historically, SSMU has been both untrustworthy and inaccessible to students. The union’s lack of transparency leaves students disengaged and though candidates almost always run on platforms promising change, this problem continues to manifest. Scandals frequently end with no action or accountability, only empty promises and vague messages to the study body. Executives and other SSMU members have managed to get away with this, as many McGill students have come to accept that their student union is irredeemable. Students must mobilize and demand change, whether by attending the Legislative Council meetings, casting votes in elections, or demanding that SSMU executives give public updates on measures being implemented. SSMU is supposed to represent the entire McGill community, and it is unacceptable that it is an unsafe space for women and other gender minorities. 

While students at large have a responsibility to hold SSMU accountable, internal structural change is still clearly necessary in the short-term. It is telling that current and former student representatives felt the need to reach out to campus media to have their complaints taken seriously. As reported in the Daily article, SSMU’s human resources (HR) reporting structure is dangerously flawed. With the SSMU Board of Directors overseeing HR, there is limited separation of power, meaning that when representatives file complaints, they must grapple with the possibility that their superiors could see it. Furthermore, the mechanism to hold high-up executives accountable is ineffective for the very same reason. The mere presence of students in these roles exacerbates the lack of confidentiality and trust within both SSMU’s HR system and its approach to equity.

Although most students are unaware of the extent to which they shape SSMU, they possess the ability to radically improve its operations. For example, students can rally around proposals to pay SSMU representatives. It is disappointing that a motion to provide financial compensation for SSMU representatives failed in 2020, because it could have helped to address some of the union’s structural inequities. Compensation would make SSMU positions more accessible to a wider range of students, moving away from the ‘certain type of student’—particularly, those who have the financial privilege of not having to work during school—that these unpaid roles usually attract. This move would also allow SSMU representatives to unionize, providing an added level of protection and further empowering them to fight exploitation. 


Asking students to take a stand for SSMU’s benefit is gruelling, especially when their representatives uphold a toxic sexist culture while refusing to provide transparency about how they plan on addressing it. The women who have been affected by SSMU’s misogynistic and demeaning culture deserve more than meaningless statements lacking concrete action. Most of all, these individuals deserve to have their experiences valued. The SSMU executive team says they have made a pact to fearlessly “change the system,” and students must be equally involved in overseeing this necessary cultural shift.

A previous version of this editorial incorrectly stated that SSMU executives oversee the HR Department. In fact, the SSMU Board of Directors administers the policy through its HR department and committee, and may involve the SSMU president or any other staff, on a case-by-case basis. The Tribune regrets this error.

Science & Technology

Cut, tuck, lift: Tracking the rise of cosmetic surgery

Blown-up shots of smooth skin, cinched waists, and tight bums are hard to avoid and even harder to look away from. Whether appearing on social media feeds or on seedy pornography websites, idealized bodies are on display on virtually every device with a screen. Bombarded by unrealistic beauty standards, more and more people, particularly women, have sought to modify their bodies via surgical means.

According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS), the total number of cosmetic surgical procedures, including breast augmentation and liposuction, remained relatively constant between 2000 and 2018 in the United States. However, minimally invasive cosmetic procedures, such as Botox and chemical peels, have increased 228 per cent in that same time period. Ninety-two percent of all these procedures were performed on women.

In an email to The McGill Tribune, Mario Luc, a plastic surgeon at McGill’s Department of Surgery and also a private practitioner, has been following the rising demand for cosmetic procedures and anticipates there will be advancements in the field in the near future.

“The demand will keep increasing for several more years,” Luc said. “The field of aesthetic surgery will continue to improve itself to provide reliable results and safety with refined techniques, protocols, and guidelines to increase patient satisfaction and safety.”

Many aspects of the pandemic have spurred an increase in procedures, including widespread weight gain and the ability to recover from surgery while shielded by a mask or computer screen.

In addition to these factors, social media may also be playing a role in the plastic surgery uptick. A notable example is the high volume of videos promoting plastic surgery to young, impressionable audiences on TikTok: Videos showing off rhinoplasties, the ubiquitous nose job, are particularly common, with over 3.2 billion views under #nosejob.

These 60-second videos often lack nuance, failing to acknowledge the significant cost and risk of cosmetic procedures. According to the ASPS, average prices can range from $400 for a Botox procedure to $7,600 for a facelift, or rhytidectomy.

More invasive surgical procedures have higher risks. Brazilian butt lifts, whose hashtag #BBL also boasts over 3.2 billion views on TikTok, is the most dangerous cosmetic surgery, having a death rate of 1 in 3,000. As for minimally invasive procedures, even a Botox shot lists symptoms ranging from headaches to permanent muscle paralysis.

Plastic surgeries often aim to emulate and exaggerate a specific body type, though the ideal is prone to changing like any other fashion trend. In addition, surgeries often attempt to recreate white, European features, such as smaller button noses or double eyelids. One notable exception is the Brazilian butt lift, which emulates the hypersexualized stereotypes of Black women, but is only truly attainable through surgical lifting for most. 

Many factors are at play in an individual’s decision to undergo a cosmetic procedure. In a survey conducted by realself, a healthcare marketplace that connects consumers to physicians and research about aesthetic treatments, revealed that the most common motivations for cosmetic procedures included wanting to improve self-esteem and confidence, and to look younger.

In a society where 53 per cent of girls are “unhappy with their bodies” by the age of 13, it is unsurprising that there is a large demand for such procedures. When standards of beauty come to impact all spheres of life—whether in the dating pool, the workplace, or the courtroom—there can be great pressure to conform.

Although cosmetic procedures always come with risks, having realistic expectations and opting for restorative procedures like facelifts instead of nose jobs are linked to greater psychosocial well-being. Consulting with recognized, trustworthy, and qualified surgeons is also crucial.

“We only use known safe and standard techniques and we keep everyone up to date in the latest safety protocols and measures, surgical techniques with constant and regular medical education,” Luc said.

(www.jessicalwarelab.com/)
Science & Technology

“Diversifying Entomology” creates buzz at Queer History Month

On Oct. 1, McGill’s Macdonald Campus hosted Jessica Ware as the keynote speaker at the 2021 edition of Queer History Month at McGill. Ware is a professor of entomology at Rutgers University in New Jersey and a curator at the American Museum of Natural History. In her talk “Diversifying Entomology,” Ware brought attention to the lack of queer and BIPOC representation in the study of insects. 

“When I was doing my studies and first entering academia, I was actually told not to talk about my Blackness or my queerness because people told me that scientists should not bring their feelings into their work,” Ware said. “That is one of many reasons why I strive to make my lab a safe space for a diverse group of people to work while staying true to themselves.”

Ware grew up visiting her grandparents in Northern Ontario, where she and her siblings enjoyed exploring the forests and flipping over rocks in search of insects. These childhood experiences fostered her curiosity, and eventually led her to earn a BSc in invertebrate zoology from the University of British Columbia (UBC), followed by a PhD in entomology from Rutgers University. Ware’s research focuses on the evolution of flight characteristics and behaviours in cockroaches, termites, and Odonata

“For people who grow up without green space, insects are introduced as pests and are only seen in an urban setting,” Ware said. “I was very fortunate to grow up with access to vast green spaces where I was able to roam freely and experience insects with a sense of wonder and curiosity. When I got to UBC, I was introduced to so many incredible mentors, many of whom also happened to be queer, and they helped me explore entomology while showing me how to navigate being queer in STEM.”

While only 40 per cent of queer individuals in STEM are “out” in their place of work, Ware is part of a group of scientists working to change that statistic. She and her colleagues have created forums and scientific societies for BIPOC and 2SLGBTQIA+ scientists to meet and share their experiences and to open up the STEM fields up to a more socially and culturally diverse future. The largest effort has gone into 500QueerScientists, a collection of over 1,500 scientists working to provide the next generation of STEM students with queer role models. 

In the field, Ware has encountered dangers in dealing with venomous insects—but also with being openly queer in spaces where that part of her identity makes her a target. 

“I do a lot of work in Guyana, and it is a criminal offense to be queer there,” Ware said. “I realized early on that it is important to make safety plans for queer field workers, and that is something most straight scientists [do] not think about.”

In 2019, Ware was delighted to receive the Presidential Early Career Award for Scientists and Engineers (PECASE) after being nominated by the National Science Foundation. 

“I come from a lineage of sharecroppers in the American South who were [denied] access to entomological knowledge by land owners who wanted to keep them in debt,” Ware said. “To need that information and not have access to it is a frightening prospect, and it is a big [turnaround] to go from that to being recognized by the government for my work.”

Ware’s field research and specimen collection expeditions have taken her all over the world to study the important role insects play in ecosystems and global cultures. The childhood wonder that initially attracted Ware to entomology continues to inspire her work in inviting more young minds into the field. 

“There are millions of species of insects on Earth, and there are millions more that have not been discovered yet,” Ware said. “We need more entomologists in order to beat the anthropogenic changes to climate conditions that are leading to extinctions across the globe. We are losing biodiversity every day, and we need a diverse array of people and perspectives to document as many insects as possible.”

Features

Subbed or dubbed?

Content warning: Mentions of sexual and physical violence.

Until three years ago, I actively avoided watching anime out of fear that I would get sucked into the curious world of this modern-day Japanese art. It turns out I was right: Since I started watching, I’ve devoured anime after anime, from more widespread titles like //Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood// to covert ones like //Noragami//. I find myself immersed in the season-long story arcs and in the fluid animation so often that I’ve begun to wonder more about the history of the medium. Anime is staggerly popular: In 2020, Netflix reported that anime titles landed in the top 10 list of most-watched content in nearly 100 countries that year. In Montreal, the anime community has grown in size, sparking convention events such as Otakuthon and inspiring McGillian students to establish their own anime club, the McGill Students’ Anime Association. This surge in popularity is relatively recent, however—and it didn’t come out of nowhere.

For one, forms of media that cross multiple platforms tend to reach a greater audience, since they allow fans to engage in the fandom in multiple ways. Anime has always been closely tied to other genres, explained East Asian studies Professor Edmond Ernest Dit Alban, who specializes in Japanese culture and queer representation in anime.

“If you look at its history, it has always been a sort of hybrid between something and something else,” said Dit Alban. “Anime is so central because it was close to manga, it was close to radio, and then it becomes close to videogames. And after videogames, it becomes close to the internet and to online platforms.”

Anime drew in obsessives as far back as the 1980s in Japan, through the formation of conventions and clubs, where like-minded fanatics discussed and bonded over the medium. Eventually, a subculture emerged out of their shared interests in anime and computer games. Its young fans were labeled “otakus” by author Nakamori Akio in 1983, who ironically detested the original anime and manga fans. Although the creation of a subculture normalized attending conventions and discussing anime as an interest, the term also accrued negative connotations. Otaku was one description used to brand the serial killer and child rapist Tsutomu Miyazaki, who sexually abused and took the lives of four young children in 1988. Miyazaki’s notorious collection of manga and anime, as well as his attendance at otaku gatherings, triggered a negative perception of those who associated themselves with the subculture at the time. 

The definition of otaku has also been criticized for only describing a narrow subset of anime fans. Indeed, academic studies on the subculture seem to normalize a new interpretation of manhood: The initially outcast “nerd.” According to Dit Alban, the subculture is built upon a homogeneous identity that is unrepresentative of the entire fandom. 

“‘Otaku,’ basically for me, is masculinity studies,” Dit Alban said. “Otaku studies are usually written by male otaku, so I guess that it’s kind of an expression of what [anime] meant to them at that time [….] The real problem with otaku is that when we go into these definitions, there’s an obvious thing missing: Everyone else but the straight, cis guys.” 

Though the anime community may have started in a specific subset of the Japanese population, it has propagated across various cultures, spreading beyond native Japanese speakers. From the 1980s onward, it was primarily pirated and translated versions of the shows that spread through Western countries, initially passing discreetly among a small viewership. The following grew in size and heterogenized throughout the decades, perhaps due to anime’s futuristic appeal. 

Despite this, the increasing diversity of anime fandoms has not necessarily led to an increase in representation on screen. The majority of anime characters are heterosexual and Japanese or white, a reflection of the backgrounds of those producing and working on the shows. In comparison with media produced in Canada or the U.S., for instance, anime has limited representations of race, cultural background, gender, and sexual orientation. 

However, some shows have managed to include representation of marginalized groups, such as the 1998 classic //Cowboy Bebop//, which features people of colour and 2SLGBTQIA+ characters. Nonetheless, some of these portrayals have problematic characteristics and are merely symbolic in representation. Dit Alban, themselves a member of the queer community, explained that in Japan, “the problem is that most of the representation of queerness is made usually by straight cis people who are not necessarily allies.”

Considering the lack of diversity among both the creators and the characters of anime, clearly anime must have connected with so many different people around the world through other means. One way that anime has obtained this international viewership is by breaking language barriers, offering “subs” and “dubs” of the original dialogue. Subs, which are translated subtitles, and dubs, which replace the Japanese dialogue with one recorded in another language, have allowed anime to be widely distributed. For example, Shania Wan, a U3 Science student at McGill, was able to connect with anime in her native tongue throughout her childhood. 

“In Mauritius, where I was born, anime was pretty popular even among young children because it was broadcast on TV, and it was in French, so everyone could understand it,” Wan reminisced. “So even if people do not understand Japanese, it is a very accessible form of content. And you could tell that Japanese animation is very different from Western or European animation. I was watching //Tokyo Mew Mew// when I was a kid and I loved it.” 

For others, anime’s appeal lies in its complex backstories, thoughtful narratives, and insight into the flawed human mind. Anime is more than the intense fight scenes that span a few episodes in “shounen” classics––many include narratives that speak to a wide range of themes, from heartbreak to genocide. Bassem Sandeela, the vice-president internal of McGill Students’ Anime Club, explained the lessons he took away from the anime //Monster//, which tells the story of Dr. Kenzou Tenma, a neurosurgeon who questions the ethics of human existence and faces severe consequences for his choices. 

“[//Monster//] is one of the most powerful explorations of morality and humanity that I’ve ever seen,” Sandeela said. “It covers the idea of what it means to be stripped of your humanity and what it means to be human, and just the way it explores […] is so thought-provoking. I think my main takeaway […] is that to become a monster is to lose your humanity, is to embrace nihilism.”

An anime that I never suspected would exert a such tight grip on me was the two-season, emotionally charged 2015 series //Assassination Classroom//. The narrative follows Koro-sensei, a superhuman being that challenges a classroom of students to assassinate him by the end of the year, or else he’ll follow through with a threat to blow up the moon. It is the combination of the gripping character arcs and the immaculately-written ending that made it an anime that I continue to think about regularly. 

Like other means of fiction, anime serves a different purpose for each individual, and there’s something to watch for everyone amongst the vast and concurrently growing list of shows. For those reading this who have not watched anime before, perhaps it is time to visit Crunchyroll and indulge yourself in the beautifully crafted artwork and stories of the genre. 

Epilogue

I committed to writing a feature about anime in the hopes that I would learn something novel about the history of this intriguing form of media—and maybe find some recommendations to put on my to-watch list if nothing else. Dit Alban brought up the title //Sarazanmai// by Ikuhara Kunihiko in our conversations—an anime that I had never heard of. The anime portrays three students who are transformed into kappa monsters so that they can defeat kappa zombies—townspeople who have turned into giant monsters because of their hidden desires. Balancing both themes on the human need for intimacy and a conglomerate of well-placed innuendos, the anime is an obvious nod to the queer community. Dit Alban ranks it among the best animes offering representation, explaining that //Sarazanmai// dives into the social taboos and the desires of the population. 

“[Kunihiko]’s not queer himself, clearly,” Dit Alban said. “But what’s interesting about him is that he’s always using queerness in a productive way to represent social struggles. And I guess that he’s probably one of the only ones in Japan who’s getting it—that queerness is not just about representing pseudo-LGBTQ+ people on the screen, [but] it’s also about having a discourse about society and its structure.”

Afterwards, I knew I had to do some research into //Sarazanmai//, so I started by watching a few highlight clips. In front of my computer screen, I sat with my mouth agape, stunned by the audacity of this anime’s cheeky, unabashed anal sex jokes, hidden under the disguise of an adorable art style. After doing so much research into the genre’s rise in popularity, watching //Sarazanmai// reminded me that anime doesn’t just have a past, but a future—one that might explore the confines of the artform and push the boundaries of storytelling. 

McGill, News

Personal liberty is second to ‘greater good’ in vaccination effort, argues Dr. Anthony Fauci

Dr. Anthony Fauci, chief medical advisor to President Biden, presented McGill’s 67th annual Beatty Lecture on Oct. 1. Titled Covid-19: Lessons Learned and Remaining Challenges, the virtual lecture garnered an audience of over 2,000 viewers. Every year, McGill invites an influential guest to discuss their professional experiences and provide insight into their respective field for members of the McGill community. Previous Beatty lectures were headlined by thinkers like Margret Atwood, Jane Goodall, and Muhammad Yunus. Ahead of Fauci, Suzanne Fortier, McGill’s principal and vice-chancellor, spoke to the significance of the annual event for the university.

“The Beatty Lecture is an important part of the McGill story,” Fortier said. “As one of Canada’s longest-running endowed lectureships, the Beatty is a testament to our university’s enduring commitment to excellence and to the exchange of ideas.”

Martha Crago, McGill’s vice-principal (Research and Innovation), introduced Fauci, highlighting his contribution and service as one of the world’s leading experts in infectious diseases.

“Driven to shed light on the unknown, scientists of the world have achieved amazing breakthroughs since the outbreak of COVID-19, such as applying mRNA technology for the first time to the development of vaccines,” Crago said. “Those breakthroughs owe an unsung debt to the building blocks of basic research conducted by Dr. Fauci and others well before the outbreak of this pandemic.”

Throughout his lecture, Fauci explained the similarities scientists have observed between the COVID-19 pandemic and other virus outbreaks. He detailed the scientific characteristics of the current coronavirus and its many variants, noting that they pose a particularly demanding public health challenge. Fauci also spoke about how the lessons learned from previous pandemics have helped shape the public health response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

“Emerging infections, including what we are going through, is truly a perpetual challenge,” Fauci said. “History has shown us that in order to meet the perpetual challenge we must be perpetually prepared, which is why I do hope that what we have learned and will learn from this outbreak does not escape our […] memory as we emerge from the scourge of this outbreak.”

Following the lecture portion of the event, Nahlah Ayed, lecture emcee and host for CBC Radio Ideas, moderated a prepared Q&A session where Fauci took questions from the audience as well as members from the McGill community about the pressing COVID-19 issues. When asked about the right of personal liberty in the context of this public health crisis, Fauci explained that individuals must put aside their perceived personal autonomy in order to promote the collective health of the public. 

“I think what people have to appreciate is that indeed, you do have personal liberties for yourself and you should be in control of that,” Fauci said. “But you are a member of society, and as a member of society, reaping all the benefits of being a member of society, you have a responsibility to society [….] Particularly in the context of a pandemic that’s killing millions of people, [there] comes a time when you do have to give up what you consider your individual right [to make] your own decision, for the greater good of society.”

Following the event, McGill presented Fauci with an honorary doctorate of science, McGill’s highest honour.

Know Your Athlete, Soccer, Sports

Catching up with Noah Eisenberg

Former Montrealer turned professional soccer player Noah Eisenberg has moved on to a new stage of his career. After several stints in Belgium, Northern Ireland, and Wales, the 23-year-old has made it to the first division in Gibraltar, signing for Europa Point FC, who finished 10th in the Gibraltar League 2020-2021 season.

The new season starts on Oct. 17. Eisenberg will be playing for both the Europa Point FC, which competes in the Premier Division of the Gibraltar League, and the U-23 youth team which acts as a feeder for the first team’s roster. 

Because the Gibraltar league rules demand that at least five Gibraltar-born players be on the field at any given moment, playing time is limited for international players like Eisenberg. 

“[The club] has registered [international players] under 23 in both the U-23 and first team, [so that] we get the minutes to play [for the club],” Eisenberg said in an interview with The McGill Tribune.

Littered with obstacles created due to the pandemic, such as immigration restrictions and the protection of local leagues from an influx of international players, Eisenberg’s soccer journey in Europe has not been an easy one. The Montrealer considers the Welsh league’s move to reduce the number of international players to be an important factor in his move to Gibraltar. 

“I left Wales. There was no choice after Brexit [since immigration to Wales] became stricter with COVID-19,” Eisenberg said. “Between [Brexit and COVID-19] it was impossible to get a visa to play in Wales [….] [There is a push] to make the Wales league only for British players.” 

Fortunately, with the help of friends and his agent, Eisenberg’s transition to Europa Point FC was a smooth one. 

“I had a friend playing in Gibraltar who put me in touch with the owner [of Europa Point FC],” Eisenberg said. “In August [of 2021], the owner offered me a contract [for the new season]. I have an agent and we work together and when an opportunity comes, he negotiates [the contract] and finalizes the deal with the club.”

Playing in the first division in the Gibraltar league could give Eisenberg the unique opportunity to play in the Champions League, the Europa League, and the UEFA Conference League. 

“The first placed team [in the Gibraltar league] will qualify for the [preliminary rounds] of the Champions League. The second, third, and fourth will go to the Europa League,” Eisenberg explained. “Lincoln Red Imps [from the Gibraltar League] is currently competing in the UEFA Conference League. [The team] played against PAOK [from the Greek first division] last week, which is one of the best teams in the world.”

Although Eisenberg faces exciting challenges ahead of him in Europe, he hopes to return to North America to play soccer in the future. The newly formed Canadian Premier League is another option Eisenberg is open to exploring. 

“I have a list of goals for the near future. CF Montreal is definitely on my bucket list,” Eisenberg said. “Montreal would definitely be a place I would like to play in front of friends and family.” 

Eisenberg acknowledged that luck played a big role in a lot of opportunities he was afforded. For Montrealers who aspire to play pro soccer in Europe or North America, he advises hard work and dedication.

“Being good enough is not always enough,” said Eisenberg. “[You have got to be] at the right place at the right time [to] be as ready as you can for when that opportunity comes.”

Commentary, Opinion

SSMU’s failed activities night undermines its integrity

On Sept. 13, over 1,000 students barricaded the virtual entry doors to the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU)’s Fall 2021 Activities Night. Internet disconnection alerts flooded the screens of many confused students and club leaders. Although students might have anticipated a mediocre gaming platform with thousands of live participants to spell disaster, the degree to which the event failed was striking.

Activities Night is one of the most important opportunities for student involvement, especially this year, as student life makes a comeback following a year of remote learning. As the highlight of many students’ time in university, it is unfortunate that students were robbed of the chance to explore the broad array of student life at McGill. SSMU hosted the event on Gather.Town, a platform that allows users to walk around a virtual venue and send messages or start calls. However, the blame for the site’s technical failings should not be placed on its developers—it is common knowledge that online programs are prone to overload when flooded with users. Last year’s event was held on a different platform, Eventus, and did not experience mass technical difficulties. SSMU should have either tested the system prior to the event or at least had a backup plan, such as having prepared a list of organized Zoom links for each club or setting up a more reliable platform.

As a result, clubs were forced to find alternate avenues to interact. For example, some clubs posted their own Zoom meetings in the mass chat or on their individual social media accounts. SSMU did not immediately respond following the event, although they did post a blurry apology on a now-expired Instagram story and did dole out leftover Frosh goodies at a measly stand on McTavish. Karla Heisele Cubilla, SSMU vice-president (VP) of student life has since announced that a second Activities Night was on the way. 

Although it was logical to hold the event online to prevent the spread of COVID-19, SSMU illogically hosted a party at the Muzique nightclub the following day. SSMU has been pushing for the university to implement a vaccine mandate and other accommodations, writing an open letter critiquing McGill’s Fall 2021 Plans and Accommodations, staging a protest of McGill’s COVID19 policies on Sept. 1, and partnering with WeCanVax to create #2Jabs4McGill to encourage students and staff to get vaccinated. SSMU’s disorganization with their online Activities Night while hosting an in-person party calls their integrity into question. 

If SSMU did not allow Activities Night to be held in person, Muzique should not be an exception. While Muzique is an established business that must follow governmental COVID-19 protocols such as requiring vaccine passports and mandatory masks for entry, the regulations that make it a safe place to meet at this time could have been easily transferred over to an in-person Activities Night. Some student clubs under SSMU’s umbrella already conduct their own vaccine passport checks and require mask-wearing for participation, but most clubs have limited resources and members. The student union, on the other hand, is a large organization comprised of numerous staff and volunteers; they have all the resources they need to host a grand event.

SSMU could have easily made Activities Night a better experience had they only put in more effort. SSMU’s leaders are not only event hosts, but leaders who represent students and are meant to lead by example. Actions always speak louder than words: As helpful as their COVID-19 safety campaigns have been, the Muzique gathering suggests that SSMU puts their activism to the side when they want to have a night of fun.

Arts & Entertainment, Music

POP Montreal festival showcases a diverse repertoire from a safe distance

POP Montreal International Music Festival returned to Montreal on a high note this September, after hosting their 2020 edition via hybrid format. Presenting a series of concerts, exhibitions, and multidisciplinary art events, the festival showcased many burgeoning, unique artists. The McGill Tribune experienced POP Montreal’s colour and vibrancy, with highlights from a few different concerts below. 

Laura Niquay – reviewed by Louis Lussier-Piette

The air of Théâtre Rialto’s parterre was ecstatic with spectators eager for in-person concerts after an almost two-year hiatus. That same excitement energized the opening acts Claire Morrisson and Kae Sun, as well as main act Laura Niquay, who all gave one hell of a show. 

A natural performer, Niquay combined music with storytelling by explaining the meanings behind each song, all sung in Atikamekw. Among the songs on her set list were “Aski-Terre,” a beautiful homage to our planet and the people who live on it, and “Otakocik – Hier,” an emotional ballad about the unexpected death of her sister’s best friend. Her band was on fire from start to finish, especially percussionist Gotta Lago, who kept the audience on their toes throughout the show.

Bad Skin – reviewed by Anna Berglas

Punk as a genre commands energy, but the crowd for Bad Skin was seated, not standing, and applauded rather than danced. Despite the formality of the venue, a joyful indignation radiated from Dope, the lead singer, guitarist, and creator of the group. The strobe lights set the mood for a fast-paced set list, and Bad Skin delivered. Songs included “Fuck You,” dedicated to Quebec premier François Legault, and a ‘90s cover of “Barbie Girl,” rock-and-roll style. The song “Riot Girl” alluded to the Riot Grrrl movement, a subculture that combines feminism, punk music and politics. The four musicians head-banged their way through the performance, keeping smiles on their faces to match the musical intensity. The close relationship between the band was palpable in the way they leaned inwards and communicated musical cues. It was exhilarating to witness the tenacity and camaraderie needed to achieve the success they have in the male-dominated punk genre.

Asuquomo – reviewed by Louis Lussier-Piette

Asuquomo, a Nigerian-born, Ottawa-based Afro-Fusion musician and producer, played a sold-out first show in Quebec at the Clubhouse Rialto packed with ecstatic fans. 

Asuquomo’s Afro-Fusion music mixes West African spirituals with American hip hop, a combination of energetic beats and jazzy rhythms that makes dancing hard to resist. The moment he and DJ Seiiizi climbed up on stage, the crowd went ballistic. His ingenuous charisma made him a natural MC, keeping the audience active and entertained from start to finish. His song “Wide Awake” attracted much excitement from the audience, who sang the refrain alongside the artist. Even with a maximum capacity of 50, the crowd had the energy of hundreds. 

Backxwash – reviewed by Louis Lussier-Piette

At L’Entrepôt 77, rapper and producer Backxwash delivered a mesmerizing performance full of theatrics, headbanging, and crowd surfing. With touches of experimental hip hop and horrorcore, Backxwash’s music explores themes of faith, queerness, and self-destruction. Backxwash performed on stage alone, supported solely by the visuals of her eccentric face paint and white dress splattered with fake blood. She delivered a furiously vigorous show, performing one song after the other with almost no breaks or signs of exhaustion. She yelled, jumped, and moshed alongside her fans, turning her metal-inspired beats into something communal. The venue was packed like it had never been before, with an audience completely bewitched by the power of her performance. Everyone was either neck-deep in the never-ending mosh pit in the front, or head-banging to the point of whiplash.

Arts & Entertainment, Music

McGill funk band ‘Stop, Drop & Groove’ performs for a full house

After nearly 16 months without live performances, McGill funk band Stop, Drop & Groove delighted students and jazz enthusiasts on Sept. 25 with a return to an in-person show. Crammed into the Quai des Brumes bar, listeners were eager to groove to the blues under the light of a disco ball. Founded by Oz McClamrock and Michael Gorlin, both U2 Music, the band played covers of hit funk songs, though they have recently begun writing original music. While their new album Faraway Places features 34 musicians, 13 performers involved with Stop, Drop & Groove collaborated to usher in a hopeful revival of live music.

The set list included “Get Funky” by Daft Punk, “What is Hip?” by Tower of Power, and the forever iconic “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth, Wind, and Fire. Different members of Stop, Drop & Grove took turns playing adventurous musical solos while the rest of the band crouched out of the way, grinning and clapping. The singers could have easily stolen the show if not for the equally dazzling instrumentalists. Every performer had their chance to shine in the spotlight. 

Modifying pieces originally written for a small group to suit 13 players is no easy task. In an interview with The McGill Tribune, McClamrock detailed his process for arranging music.

“I listen to the song, I’ll jot down what I hear in some scoring software, [and then] I’ll harmonize appropriately,” McClamrock explained. “The horns are loyal to the originals, which lays a foundation for the more experimental rhythm and vocal section. People don’t have to play exactly what it is on the records. I think that’s what makes us more interesting, the vocals and the rhythm are really different.”

During the performance, McClamrock occasionally gave visual cues with his hand, leading the band in the right direction. For the most part, however, everyone remained well in sync, perhaps due to band members’ background in music theory—all players are either past or present students in jazz performance at McGill’s Schulich School of Music. 

Following the evening of funky covers, fans enamoured with Stop, Drop & Groove can look to the band’s original work for more jazzy tunes. After eight months of recording remotely, they released their first album Faraway Places this past August. The name references the remote production method, since participating musicians were unable to meet in person. 

“We started with the drummer. He would play his track alone with a metronome, then he’d send his track off to the bass player, and keyboard, guitar, and build it then send it to the vocals,” Gorlin said. “Everyone was recording in faraway places all around the US, Canada.”
Fans can look forward to Stop, Drop & Groove’s next concert on Oct. 22 at La Petite Marche. Listeners can keep up with the band on Facebook or Instagram.

Off the Board, Opinion

Let your unconscious dance

I often wake up and wholeheartedly believe I am still dreaming. The scenes in my slumber world and my reality meet and intertwine, carrying the affect of my dream into the start of my day. Sometimes, I am 50 feet tall and walking for miles down unrecognizable roads; other times, I am my ordinary self but older and…pregnant? Yes, pregnant. I have an uncomfortable amount of recurring dreams like this. It is as if my sticky subconscious latches onto my fleeting thoughts and infiltrates every night, becoming part of my awakening. The impacts of these awakenings are twofold; a blessing because I get to tell everyone around me about my weird dreams, and a curse because I wake up disoriented and dazed. The act of dreaming is far from mundane; it is a conversation between our subconscious and unconscious. There is infinite value in contemplating the worlds our mind conjures.

But, as I continue to speculate the meaning of my own dreams, I have come to recognize that they are filled with an inevitable unknowing. Sleep psychologists and neurologists have formulated many theories about why we have dreams, such as strengthening memories; processing emotions; clearing out unnecessary information; or replaying life events. Some scientists, on the other hand, theorize that dreaming is but a by-product of sleep with no other function at all. If the sleep experts have yet to pin down why we dream at all, then I, a sleep amateur, have little capacity to grapple with the accurate meaning behind my unusually hyper-realistic dreams, most of which are about being suddenly, and immensely, pregnant. 

Some scientists find that dreams mostly contain negative affect, meaning that they feel significant because dreamers are biased toward negative information. Those same scientists would probably tell me that discussing my pregnancy dreams with others is far from a good idea. In their opinion, doing so would likely only serve to bore or dismay my listeners. Nevertheless, I continue to incorporate them into my everyday interactions with others. Discussing dreams is a fascinating conversation-starter: People inquire all about what one gets up to during the day, so it should only feel natural to ask about where their mind went last night. I personally love explaining my dreams—and, if I am feeling up for it, acting out all the gritty details—to the people around me. I find it is always particularly entrancing to compare the kinds of dreams I have to others. 

It is a disappointing cultural norm that the dream realm is often left out of conversation. In fact, discussing one’s dreams with loved ones and the rest of one’s community is considered a vital aspect of Indigenous cultures all over the world. For instance, the Dene people, inhabiting what is now known as Western Canada, believe that dreams are enmeshed with reality and that they hold prophetic significance. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander mythology finds even greater meaning in dreams, viewing ancestral dreams as the origin of Earth’s creation. So, before writing off dreams as a no-go in conversation, consider their social, emotional, and cultural value in the world. 

As I near the end of my degree at McGill, I have spent some time reflecting on my dreams—real and metaphorical—and their place in my life. Part of living is striving to make peace with the unknown, and to believe in the present, not the future. I cannot wake up knowing exactly how the rest of my life will play out, just as I cannot lie my head down at night and know what kind of dreamlike dance my unconscious will invite me to join. Letting go of the unknown is never easy; it is anxiety-inducing, and oh boy, am I anxious about it. Yet I learn a lot from the effortlessness of the dream world. Perhaps I should revel in the disorientation of the first eyelid’s blink of a new morning, because the imaginative, carefree spirit of my dreams can bleed into my reality if I let it.

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