Latest News

Editorial, Opinion

Quebec must answer for non-consensual sterilizations

Content warning: This article discusses forced sterilization, racism

Radio-Canada recently aired an interview with a 44-year-old Haitian woman, Maria*, who claimed she was sterilized without consent at a Montreal hospital in 2018. She was asked if she wanted to undergo tubal ligation to prevent further pregnancies during her emergency C-section. Maria said that she refused the procedure, and there is no trace of written consent in her medical file. Non-consensual sterilizations are not bioethical dilemmas; they are the result of longstanding colonial practices that inflict disproportionate, irreparable harm on Black and Indigenous women. In a province whose leadership denies systemic racism, the onus is on the Quebec healthcare system to eliminate racial, gender, or other biases—as well as to guarantee that medical consent is given affirmatively and unequivocally.

Some patients might want their tubes tied, and some may opt to undergo the procedure after a C-section. But professionals must ensure that consent is unambiguous, especially when it is solicited from those whose first language is not French or English. Such a decision should never be allowed without the patient’s full and informed consent. 

Despite no written consent, the Quebec College of Physicians is taking the doctor’s word for obtaining “verbal consent.” Although this type of consent may be acceptable in extreme circumstances, even then, it only holds if the doctor makes certain that the patient comprehends the full extent of the procedure. The government should require translators fluent not only in French and English but also in Indigenous languages to be on-site at all times. Even if this is infeasible in the short-term, there are potential translation technologies that could be harnessed if they can be medically verified. 

It goes without saying that patients should not be asked to make such a life-altering decision under the already stressful, and at times traumatic, circumstances of childbirth. Nicole Awashish, an Atikamekw woman who is one of many Indigenous women who have experienced non-consensual sterilization, felt that the pain and stress of her contractions made it impossible for her to fully grasp the details of the procedure. To mitigate the risk of medical practitioners taking advantage of such stressors, patients must be given the time to think about whether the procedure is right for them far in advance and without any external pressure. 

Human rights groups have every reason to be skeptical of physicians, and of medical racism more broadly. Canada has a long history of forcibly sterilizing racialized “Others,” including Indigenous women, Black women, immigrants, and other minorities––and these atrocities are not a thing of the past. In this context—a callous cacophony amplified by a premier who denounces “wokes” for protesting structural prejudices—the government would be abdicating justice if it did not investigate Maria’s case, along with all others like it. 

Premier Legault’s opposition to “woke” activists is a form of rhetorical terrorism against people who criticize his politics, positioning them as enemies of the Quebec nation. Moreover, by fomenting bigotry, his words and labels compound the racism already embedded in the health care system, reinforcing well-founded distrust between racialized women and medical professionals, and discouraging vulnerable populations from seeking care. The government must take accountability for the women whose lives their health care system has irreparably damaged and must also address their underlying causes, lest Quebec hospitals remain structures of indifference and factories of injustice.

Quebec’s health care system has robbed victims of their agency, and their trauma must not be forgotten. Women’s health continues to be taken for granted, their pain minimized and their concerns about racial inequities labeled as “woke” paranoia. In this way, healthcare has become a crossroads of intersecting daggers of discrimination. A radical shift in Quebec’s approach to health care is the only way to bridge the cavernous legacies of oppression that serve to dehumanize and ignore racialized women.

*Maria’s name has been changed to preserve her anonymity.

Off the Board, Opinion

Finding new words for my identity

It took me until I was 12 to realize that my father’s English was accented. Before that, it was just my father’s voice: Familiar and melodic, a vestige of his first, tonal language. Like many mixed kids, I was hyper-aware of the racial categories I fit into from a young age. While I often wondered if I looked more white or Chinese, language did not play a part in my identity struggles. At home, we spoke English, and my highly educated father was always able to express himself in his second tongue.

Things changed when my parents decided to move to Taichung for my mother’s sabbatical. While she researched Taiwan’s forests with my father as an ad hoc translator, my world turned upside down. At school, I fought through tears as teachers and classmates attempted to engage me in a language I had never learned. My only allies at school were two Taiwanese girls who knew some English. When I tried to speak Mandarin one time, my friends laughed at my accent. I realized that while I felt somewhat Chinese at home, in Taiwan, I was completely foreign—seen as white as it gets.

We returned to Canada less than half a year later, but my feelings of linguistic inadequacy stuck with me. In the eight years afterwards, I took Chinese lessons with my mother. My accent sounded more natural by high school, enough to be taken for a native speaker—as long as I managed to spit out a few confident sentences. When I was 16, I went to Shanghai with my dad, spending my days in his air-conditioned office wrestling through articles on Baidu, the Chinese equivalent of Wikipedia. 

Although I was half-literate by the end of summer, I was still unable to fully grasp the language. I had learned Pinyin, the standard romanization of Chinese; I had encountered a few thousand characters; I even occasionally dreamed in Mandarin. But nothing ever translated to spoken fluency—probably because I never had anyone to speak to. My father has refused to speak Chinese with me throughout my life, citing his own discomfort using the language, even though he uses it with others. I began to wonder if I’d ever be good enough.

The fall after I returned home from Shanghai, I gave up learning Chinese. I spent my Fridays watching movies with my friends instead of studying grammar particles. There are times when my decaying comprehension of Chinese feels like a wound. But in truth, ending my studies was a huge relief. I stopped feeling that I had to prove my Chinese identity to myself, or make up for a childhood of linguistic immersion I never had. I also began to question the exclusionary paradigm that I implicitly accepted—that identity hinged on a certain grasp of language or a kind of invisible flexibility across cultural spheres. It wasn’t just me who was excluded by this linguistic absolutism, but others as well, like transracial adoptees raised by white families, or native speakers who experienced first language attrition. 

In truth, cultural identities are transitive and expansive, shifting across geographical context. Some diasporic individuals who return home even experience “reverse culture shock,” where familiar elements of their native country seem alien. My father often confesses to me that he has issues understanding modern Mandarin, with its English loan words, Tiktok slang, and novel technological terms that did not exist in 1960s Taiwan. As for myself, to accept that I’m the product of my circumstances, to integrate poorly into one of my cultures—this is a tough thing to face. But it’s also what most new immigrants confront when they try to integrate into a new country.  

My father once explained to me that he learned English by slowly reading books with the help of a Chinese-English dictionary, and I told him I couldn’t imagine learning another language without the internet. Only years later did I understand his response: “There was no other option. I had to survive.”

Sports

The future of sports broadcasting is at our fingertips

It’s a Friday night, and all you want to do is order pizza and watch an NFL game live with some close friends. As a student on a tight budget, however, finding access to the games you want to watch can prove difficult—and sometimes even impossible—without a cable plan. Some students have access to their families’ cable information, but many more find themselves out of luck on game night, likely spending the rest of the evening trying to access a low-resolution, stuttery, illegal stream.

Live sports are as popular as ever, but as our media consumption gradually migrates from the family TV to our own personal devices, watching sports through cable television is becoming more and more antiquated.

In the United States this year, only 56 per cent of households have a cable plan, down from 76 per cent in 2015. This dramatic cable-cutting wave is even more pronounced among young adults, with only 34 per cent of people aged 18-29 shelling out cash on a monthly plan. As this younger generation ages into their prime spending years, cable television will likely die out, and with it the large media companies that broadcast our favourite sports. 

The decline of younger viewership is already apparent in nearly every major North American sport; the average NHL viewer’s age is 49, up from 42 in 2006, and the average baseball viewer is 57, up from 52. This trend reflects the generational lag in sports viewership: Younger viewers are just as engaged in sports, but have instead turned to digital sports media commentary to satisfy their craving. Platforms such as Youtube, TikTok, and podcasts, have seen tremendous growth in the past decade. 

The mode of delivery won’t be the only thing that changes. Because live sports have such high viewership, broadcasts are meant to appeal to as many people as possible. But content creators on online platforms are gaining followers thanks to their unique approaches to sports analysis, challenging the generalized commentary inherent to larger networks. While this broad strokes approach is engaging for those who are already invested, it fails to draw in new viewership. Now that most people own a device, the potential for more niche, individualized live sports broadcasting is virtually untapped. Exclusive broadcasting contracts still held by companies like ESPN, TNT, and Fox Sports are the only barriers preventing this new wave of sportscasting from dominating the industry. 

Nearly every major sports-casting contract is ending in the next decade. While it is possible that companies like ESPN will retain some of their contracts, it is just as possible that huge tech corporations like Google or Amazon, who have already dipped their toes in the streaming pool, will spend a small fortune to acquire exclusive rights to stream games how they please. 

If one of these tech giants manages to secure streaming rights, the way we consume live sports will undoubtedly change forever. Streaming services like Youtube Live and Twitch have the capability to individualize content for millions of people. Audience segmentation is something that Spanish Football league La Liga has experimented with, bringing various influencers to commentate on soccer games—to great success. Allowing already established streamers, such as xQcOW or HasanAbi, to cast sporting events could draw in an entirely different demographic to the sports ecosystem and could make viewing games—many that would be otherwise uninteresting, such as blowouts or regular-season games—engaging in an entirely new way. 

As we all gradually move further into the digital world, it is only natural that things will change. Watching sports games on our laptops is just the beginning—segmented monetization and new commentating styles will foster unique, small communities in these digital spaces.

Research Briefs, Science & Technology

Neuroinflammation found to drive Alzheimer’s disease progression

Over a century ago, Alois Alzheimer, a German psychiatrist, spotted strange plaques and tangles in the brain slides of a patient with dementia. Ever since, scientists have been trying to better understand the mechanisms behind what is now known as Alzheimer’s disease.

Alzheimer’s disease (AD) is a brain disorder that progressively deteriorates cognitive and memory skills, eventually taking away the ability to perform even the most basic tasks, such as walking and eating. It is the most common cause of dementia among older adults and affects an estimated one in 10 people aged 65 or older.

From a biological standpoint, the disease is characterized by the accumulation of misfolded proteins, called amyloid beta, in the brain. They aggregate and form plaques that eventually trigger an inflammatory response. Microglia, the brain’s resident immune cells, activate and release molecules that cause further damage to the neurons. Another class of proteins, known as tau proteins, also get modified and clump together, forming tau tangles. The misfolded proteins then propagate according to hierarchical stages known as Braak stages. They originate from lower brain areas and make their way up to higher areas that control thinking and memory. The combination of amyloid plaques and tau tangles, along with the inflammatory response in the brain, is what scientists believe to be the physical basis of AD.

The role of brain tissue inflammation in Alzheimer’s, however, is still disputed among scientists.

“Some scientists believe that neuroinflammation can protect the brain because it would attack the amyloid plaques,” Dr. Pedro Rosa-Neto, director of the McGill Research Centre for Studies in Aging and professor of neurology and neurosurgery, said in an interview with The McGill Tribune.

Nevertheless, a recent McGill study has proven the alternative theory to be true: Neuroinflammation was found to drive the progression of the disease. The research team, led by Rosa-Neto, used an imaging technique called positron-emission tomography to quantify microglial activation, amyloid beta deposits, and tau propagation across the brain.

Their findings suggest that neuroinflammation is a precursor that allows tau proteins to spread to higher brain areas. 

“Microglial activation paves the way for tau to invade the brain,” Rosa-Neto said. 

The researchers also found that amyloid beta enhances the effect of microglial activation on tau proteins spreading through the brain. Their model shows that the combination of amyloid beta and microglial activation is what determines tau pathology.

This study clearly has considerable clinical applications; for instance, treating patients with anti-inflammatory drugs could prevent further progression of the disease. However, the clinical trials have been unsuccessful so far. There are many reasons for this failure, but an important one is that patients receiving the drugs are already in the late stages of the disease.

“The results that we found suggest that there is a right timing to give this medication, which is right at the beginning of the disease,” Rosa-Neto said. 

Indeed, neuroinflammation creates a path for the progression of misfolded tau proteins from lower to higher brain areas. Turning off neuroinflammation when misfolded tau are still confined within lower structures could prevent them from spreading further. Stopping neuroinflammation only when tau has already reached higher structures would likely be futile. 

As is the case for most complex diseases like Alzheimer’s, a lot of work needs to be done before scientists can reach a complete and accurate understanding of the disease mechanism. A clearer picture of how AD progresses is a promising start in ensuring better outcomes for patients. 

Last Tuesday, on World Alzheimer’s Day, Alzheimer’s Disease International released the World Alzheimer’s Report 2021—a comprehensive report of recent advances in the field. The 2021 report was entirely written by four McGill researchers, including Rosa-Neto, underscoring their standing as global leaders in Alzheimer’s research. 

Montreal, News

Students march for climate justice and urge McGill to divest

Divest McGill hosted a teach-in on Sept. 24 to encourage McGill students to participate in the annual climate march that occurred downtown later that afternoon. Students gathered at the Y-intersection on campus to listen to several speakers, and then walked to Jeanne-Mance Park with posters and signs in hand. 

The march was part of the larger Fridays for Future movement, and members of Divest McGill used the occasion as an opportunity to educate people about McGill’s investment in fossil fuel companies. Following the news of Harvard University’s divestment from fossil fuel companies on Sept. 9, many students, including Lily Cason, U1 Arts student and Divest McGill member, took to the streets to urge McGill to do the same.

“Our institution is invested in many of the main fossil fuel companies that […] are worsening the environment and the impending crisis that we are all going to have to face,” Cason said. “We think it’s irresponsible for McGill to stay invested in these companies knowing that it’s not the way of the future.”

In their speech, Lane McCrory, U2 Arts student and Divest McGill member, explained the depth of McGill’s fossil fuel investment portfolio. 

“Above all, who is contributing the most to greenhouse emissions? Who is burning fossil fuels and pumping 70 per cent of greenhouse gasses into the air?” McCrory started. “It is the top 100 fossil fuel companies that are producing 70 per cent of our total greenhouse gasses, [many] of which McGill University actively supports. McGill has tens of millions of dollars in the energy sector. This means that the institution is actively supporting fossil fuels, oil, and the coal industry.”

After listening to activists’ speeches at Jeanne-Mance Park, students joined thousands of other climate activists and organizations in marching down Parc Avenue and along Sherbrooke Street West. While official numbers have yet to be released, multiple sources estimate the number of participants to be in the tens of thousands. The Montreal climate strike was one of approximately 1,500 occurring on Sept. 24 across the globe.

Many people, like El Bush, U1 Arts, joined the march after hearing about it by word-of-mouth.

“My friend is a part of Divest McGill, and she has always prompted me to be aware of the political climate I am in,” Bush said. “I think it is very important, especially as a McGill student who comes from a place of privilege, to actively engage in activities and with communities that are helping to decolonize and create a sustainable campus.”

Prior to the march, Divest McGill held a meeting in Three Bares Park to discuss ideas and logistics.

“[Divest] is non-hierarchical. It is all incredibly collaborative, which is a really nice space to be in,” Cason said. “Everyone who has an idea is welcome to share their ideas. You get so much knowledge in one space when you have that kind of open-forum discussion.”

Divest members counted the meeting a success.

“Divest was thrilled by the number of McGill students who came out to strike for climate justice and to learn about how fighting the university’s steadfast refusal to take money out of the fossil fuel industry fits into a larger Just Transition Framework devised by Climate Justice Alliance.” said members of the club in a joint statement to the Tribune.

Art, Arts & Entertainment

PHI’s newest exhibit imagines post-pandemic human connection

Five artists, each with their own unique artistic methods, mediums, and backgrounds unite in the exhibition …And Room in the Bag of Stars currently on display at the PHI Foundation for Contemporary Art. Curated by Daniel Fiset and inspired by science-fiction author Ursula K. Le Guin’s 1986 short essay The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, the art builds upon Le Guin’s ideas about prioritizing human community and unity over secession and violence. 

Le Guin’s essay proposes that humanity’s first tool was a receptacle rather than a spear, suggesting that humans were collectors and artists before they were hunters. …And Room in the Bag of Stars is a simulacrum of Le Guin’s ideas, imagining a world where people connect and share with each other, rather than engage in violence. kimura byol-nathalie lemoine, Salima Punjani, Dominique Sirois, Santiago Tamayo Soler, and Karen Trask all contributed their individually distinctive artworks to this cohesive exhibition. Exploring themes of social isolation, sexism, cultural diversity, and technological advancements, …And Room in a Bag of Stars brings to light Le Guin’s ideas and leaves behind the narrative of glorified—typically male—heroic archetypes. 

Applying the same technique used to tie knots in fishing nets, Trask’s sculpture Hanging by a Thread intricately weaves together pages torn from encyclopedias and dictionaries. In the room’s centre stands a masculine humanoid effigy, his cape trailing behind him and a single thread connecting him to the ceiling. This phantom figure’s fragility is dissimilar to the unstoppable hero to which myth and story are so accustomed; instead, its ghostly form symbolizes the fading of patriarchal ideals and the flaws in society’s consistent search for epic heroes. 

Will you pass the salt by Salima Punjani draws viewers into a multi-sensory experience. The project invites the spectator to sit at a dining room table set with dishes and cutlery, immersing them in the familiar sounds of friendly chatter, laughter, and clattering dishware. The audio’s noises come from 10 different Montreal households, recreating a snapshot of life before the COVID-19 pandemic. 

In Saekdong색동Diaspora, kimura byol-nathalie lemoine incorporates Le Guin’s theme of humans-as-collectors by using natural materials, such as bamboo, iris, and lotus, amassed from places the artist has lived. From here, the artist creates an assortment of multifaceted representations of containers, ranging from mason jars to pouches. The title refers to saekdongot, a type of vibrantly striped traditional Korean cloth that lemoine incorporates into the piece. lemoine’s precise placement and symbolic use of materials present create a strong sense of zer communal identity, mediated through art.

Along with Dominique Sirois’ Alliance #14 and Santiago Tamayo Soler’s Retornar, these five artists gather a meticulous and intriguing understanding of the human condition. …And Room in the Bag of Stars reimagines a world where humans can reconnect through art, drawing one’s attention away from the individual and toward a collective experience of healing. 

‘…And Room in the Bag of Stars’ exhibition continues until January 9, 2022, at the PHI Foundation for Contemporary Art (451 & 465 Saint-Jean Street, Montréal). Book in advance. Free admission. 

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

Festival Stop-Motion Montréal explores the cultural significance of Indigenous filmmaking

Festival Stop Motion Montréal, which took place from Sept. 10 to 19, is dedicated to highlighting the beauty and uniqueness of stop-motion film. For its 13th edition, the festival showcased both local and international talent and focussed on amplifying the work of Indigenous stop-motion artists.

As part of the festival, Wapikoni, a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting First Nations cinema, hosted a round table on Indigenous stop-motion productions, featuring Métis/Anishinaabeg producer and filmmaker Melanie Jackson, Métis filmmaker and multidisciplinary artist Terril Calder, producer Neil Christopher, Inuit filmmaker and producer Zacharias Kunuk, and moderator and Innu filmmaker Jani Bellefleur-Kaltush. The five artists—some having met at the panel, some having been long-time friends and colleagues—discussed their personal experiences as filmmakers and producers. 

“I’m fascinated by my culture, [and] fascinated by the knowledge and land,” Kunuk said. “[In the North], there are no trees, so no paper to write on. I am fascinated by [everything] thought orally.”

Kunuk’s stop-motion film Angakusajaujuq: The Shaman’s Apprentice won the festival’s award for Best Independent Film at the festival this year.

The panellists agreed that stop-motion as an art form is an interesting way to tell the stories they grew up hearing from their elders. Director Melanie Jackson used hoop dancing to underline the importance of movement in Indigenous cultures, as shown in her 2009 short stop-motion film Vistas: Dancers of the Grass.

“When it comes to stop-motion, it’s the artistry of the movements [that are important],” Jackson said. “It’s a different way to share those stories that we have been told.”

Another unique aspect of the stop-motion format is its ability to use textures as a narrative tool. Kunuk used the texture of fur, snow, and leathered garments to highlight distinct aspects of Inuit culture. Christopher explained that the authenticity of these textures would have been impossible to recreate in classical or 3D animation.

“When Zacharias Kunuk approached us with a traditional story, stop-motion just felt like the right decision,” Christopher said. “We wanted to see the texture of the fur. It didn’t feel like we should bring it to the computer, and stop-motion would allow us to do animation in a very tactile way.”

Despite the patience required to shoot a stop-motion film, there is an accessibility to the medium that is otherwise rare in cinema. Without a crew to feed and actors to pay on set, the cost of shooting a stop-motion film is often drastically lower than shooting live action. There are opportunities to explore creative liberties that would otherwise be impossible, like shooting a movie in one’s native language.

“With stop-motion, all that is unimaginable becomes imaginable,” Kunuk said.

The round table closed on a discussion on the importance of uplifting Indigenous creators, something Festival Stop Motion Montréal aimed to do during this year’s edition. 

“The next challenge for Indigenous creators is to break channels other than APTN,” Jackson said. “Teletoon or Cartoon Network, for example.” 

Jackson explained that Canada, in comparison to New Zealand, lags behind when it comes to giving Indigenous creators the opportunity to share their work on country-wide television. 

“In New Zealand, TV broadcasters take pride in showing animated shows by Indigenous people,” Jackson said. “By seeing brown skin on screen, it encourages our youth [to see that] there is another way for them to get their stories out there.” 

McGill, News

All nine faculty froshes receive gold-level sustainability rating from Office of Sustainability

All nine of McGill’s faculty froshes, including Management, Arts & Science, Physical & Occupational Therapy, Education, Science, Music, Macdonald Campus, Engineering, and Arts, received gold-level certification from the Office of Sustainability for their late-August 2021 events. This was the second time all nine achieved the gold-level designation; they received the award in 2019 as well. 

McGill’s Office of Sustainability developed the Sustainable Events Certification Program in 2017. The program examines the extent to which events held at McGill, such as conferences, fairs, and parties, are environmentally sustainable. An event’s level of sustainability is determined according to factors ranging from using reusable dishware and working with socially responsible sponsors. All of the factors are included in the program’s Sustainable Events Certification checklist. In addition to following the office’s standards for environmental sustainability, frosh organizers say they took physical and financial accessibility concerns into account during their planning.

Froshes contacted the Office of Sustainability in early July to initiate the certification process. The first step of certification was reviewing the Sustainable Events Certification checklist, which was newly adapted for Frosh 2021. Frosh organizers then met with the office’s events team to discuss areas for improvement regarding accessibility and sustainability. 

Megan Toth, a sustainability officer with the Office of Sustainability, explained in an interview with The McGill Tribune that a long consultation process occurred between the frosh sustainability coordinators and the Office of Sustainability before the froshes were officially certified in mid-August.  

“We were really pleased and impressed with the effort that [the faculty frosh coordinators] all put forth,” Toth said. “They did not have to do the level of effort that they did, but they really all came through and met with us [….] There was a lot of work going into figuring out the types of actions that they could take and where they could improve.” 

Froshes took various actions to achieve the certification, such as designating a specific Sustainability and Inclusivity Coordinator for each frosh, developing and delivering an Indigenous land acknowledgement and pronunciation guide, and calculating and offsetting greenhouse gas emissions related to travel. 

Together, the nine froshes calculated a total of 35.52 tonnes of greenhouse gas emissions during their events. Abiding by the McGill Offsetting Program, frosh organizers made payments to carbon offset projects selected through McGill’s Offset Selection Committee.  

Froshes also made use of the Sustainability Project Fund’s Tiny Stream—an award fund that grants 300 dollars to small sustainability projects. The award allowed Engineering Frosh to hire Compost Montreal to implement an effective waste disposal system and enabled Music Frosh to obtain waste sorting bins for their event at Jeanne Mance. 

Toth underscored the importance of sustainability efforts and of limiting McGill’s carbon footprint. 

“[Frosh] is a lot of people,” Toth said. “These are big events. So, when events of those sizes are more sustainable, then there’s a potential for a big impact.”

Sarah McCourt, U2 Management and 2021 frosh leader, emphasized that frosh plays a role in instilling campus culture in first-year students. 

“Frosh is significant because it introduces [incoming students] to the standards and values that we hold in the McGill community,” McCourt said. “It’s their introduction to it, and so the ideas we have on diversity, inclusion, [and] environmental sustainability are important.” 

In an interview with the Tribune, Jeanna Oliver, U0 Arts and frosh participant, said they were largely unaware of the specific sustainability efforts frosh events made, but that they were impressed by the organizers’ efforts to be inclusive and environmentally conscious. 

“To know the organizers were thinking about and putting efforts into being sustainable is really awesome to hear,” Oliver said. “These kinds of events are not easy to make sustainable or accessible, especially because of the nature of frosh [….] But, also, I think there’s always room for improvement with sustainability and inclusivity [….] As a community, we can always do more.”

Campus Spotlight, Student Life

Investigating McGill’s mysterious Mafia Club

If you want to improve your poker face, teamwork skills, and strategic thinking, look no further than McGill’s Mafia Club. Known for its long nights of intense gameplay filled with lies and deception, this student club offers a unique sense of community centred on the beloved game of social deduction.

Founded in 2013, McGill’s Mafia Club drew traction in the McGill community due to its niche premise and rumours of intense meetings. Mafia, also known as Werewolf, is among the most popular social psychology games, and with its simple set of rules, the game is easy to learn and enjoy. The game, at its core, is a battle of wits between two teams: The informed majority—the mafia—are tasked with killing off members of the uninformed majority—the townspeople—without being detected.

In addition to hosting Mafia games, the club also plays other social psychology games, such as Secret Hitler and The Resistance. During the COVID-19 lockdowns, Mafia Club even played a variety of games virtually, such as Enigma. However, with in-person meetings allowed again, the club will return to its focus on Mafia, as it is better suited to a large, in-person group.

Daniella Serrador, U3 Science and co-president of Mafia Club, initially joined in 2019. As someone who enjoyed playing Mafia in high school, Serrador seized the opportunity to make new friends while continuing to play a game she loved.

Serrador said she hopes to foster a laid-back atmosphere, considering that many McGill spaces and clubs are often very focussed on academics.

“Mafia Club is accepting and welcoming to people of all backgrounds, [including] beginners,” Serrador said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “It is a relaxed place to come and unwind.”

Serrador believes the game has a unique ability to foster multiple social and personal skills. 

“[The club offers] the opportunity to improve your public speaking skills, because the game involves defending your point of view to others in the group in order to stay in,” Serrador said.

Mafia Club intrigued Emily Bidder, U3 Arts and general club member, when she visited Activities Night as a first-year student. Although she had played similar games in the past, Bidder was impressed by participants’ teamwork and deception during the beginner’s night.

Bidder was motivated to continue playing to improve her own strategic thinking skills applicable to her personal and academic life. However, the biggest takeaway for Bidder has been the close friends that she made, thanks in part to the club’s positive and social ambience.

“Because it’s such a social game, everybody gets involved [in] debating [to defend their side’s point of view],” Bidder said. “We do get a bit heated during the games, but it’s all in fun.”

With meetings drawing groups ranging from 15 to 40 participants, the club has proven to be an easy way to find people to connect with.

“I’ve never made so many friends in one place,” Abdel-Rahman Sadaqa, U4 Engineering and general member, said in an interview with the Tribune. “It’s one of the most comfortable […] environments I’ve ever been in.”

Members are dedicated to the game, despite the club veering from typical CV-boosting extracurricular activities. Proof of this passion are its several-hour-long meetings, with each round lasting up to 90 minutes. 

“It’s some of the most genuine frustration I’ve seen,” Jonathan Mayrhofer, U3 Arts and executive member, said. 

This year, McGill’s Mafia Club meets on Tuesdays from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. in room 201 of the SSMU building. They will also be hosting beginners’ nights for those that are new to the game and want to get involved. Those interested in joining are encouraged to email [email protected] to join the mailing list.

McGill, News

In absence of university-wide vaccine mandate, McGill law professors warn of liability risk

Many Canadian universities, including the University of Calgary and the University of British Columbia, have recently announced proof of vaccination requirements to access campus. Students and faculty began rallying for McGill to implement a university-wide vaccine mandate in early September, and McGill responded in a statement arguing that the policy is infeasible under Quebec law. Following this, a group of 12 McGill law professors wrote an open letter that found fault in McGill’s statement. 

Twelve McGill professors—later 36, as discussions continued—researched the legal case behind vaccine mandates and wrote to Rath Panda, chair of McGill’s Board of Directors, Suzanne Fortier, principal and vice-chancellor of McGill University, and Christopher Manfredi, provost and vice-principal (Academic) urging McGill to reevaluate their stance. 

Richard Janda, associate professor in the Faculty of Law and a member of the initial twelve who voiced these concerns, argued that the university may be liable for damages to vulnerable people disproportionately impacted by the pandemic—such as immunocompromised people, pregnant women, and those with young families—should McGill not implement mandatory proof of vaccination.

“We were trying to signal that the university’s policy produced particular vulnerability for those people because they were not sure if they were safe in the classroom and some of them had to make very difficult choices between giving up their year in school versus coming to class,” Janda said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “I have seen the kinds of serious impacts that there can be, and people who would suffer impacts of that sort would certainly have a basis for making a claim if they could make out that the university had acted negligently.”

Janda refuted the legal standing McGill used to defend their position, referencing a recent decision upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court, which involved students at University of Indiana making similar arguments.

“To argue that the people we should be protecting here are the people who, for no health or religious reason simply do not want to be vaccinated, is not really the protection of a vulnerable group of Canadians,” Janda asserted. “The president of the University of Ottawa, who has implemented such a proof of vaccination regime, is the former president of the Quebec Human Rights Commission and he’s a constitutional lawyer who knows this stuff inside out. So frankly, I trust Jacques Frémont’s analysis of this much more than I trust that of our general counsel.”

As per the federal government’s statement that education is an essential service, the McGill administration explains it will act, and implement COVID-19-specific accommodations, to make sure that no students are excluded from the learning environment. 

“The government considers higher education to be an essential service, [which imposes] a responsibility to ensure that no one enrolled in our university is excluded from essential learning activities without extraordinary justification,” wrote McGill media relations officer Frédérique Mazerolle. “McGill’s plan for the Fall involves several layers of protection, [and]  accommodations are available for vulnerable students and employees with appropriate medical documentation.”

While Janda and the university state that accommodations are available for people unable to get vaccinated for certain reasons, 2L law student *Grace is concerned that the Faculty of Law, in particular, has not delivered on this promise.

“There is absolutely no accommodation at the Faculty of Law,” *Grace said. “There is no imposed hybrid learning, if you miss class you miss class. [The Faculty cannot] accommodate to the point of telling people to just not come to school, which is very ableist in my opinion. There is no way for them to ethically impose vaccine mandates on campus without offering an across-the-board hybrid option for people who can’t go.”


*Grace’s name has been changed to preserve their anonymity.

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