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Science & Technology

Demystifying social anxiety and its impacts on student life

by Margaret Wdowiak on

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A timid McGill student observes a group of classmates talking and laughing, and wishes to join them. As she contemplates whether to approach them, she remembers words of encouragement from a therapist: “You will make friends, you are kind and fun. People like you more than you think.” After recalling those reassuring words, she summons the courage to approach the group. Her heart is beating a mile a minute as she stands, shaking, waiting for the group to acknowledge her. To her relief, the group is extremely welcoming. As they let her in on their conversation, she is overwhelmed with happiness, but still fears not being liked.

(Jinny Moon / The McGill Tribune)

Many individuals face struggles similar to this timid student. Social anxiety disorder (SAD) is a type of anxiety disorder that causes extreme fear in social settings. Between eight to 13 per cent of Canadians struggle with SAD during their lifetimes and approximately seven per cent of American adults suffer from social anxiety. 

SAD is characterized by fear, anxiety, and avoidance behaviours that interfere with one’s daily routine. Individuals with a social phobia have trouble talking to people, forging new social connections, and attending social gatherings because they fear judgment from others. 

“I think the fairest way to describe it in my personal experience is feeling a bit like an alien trying not to be found out,” Ashley*, U3 Arts, wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune. “It’s as if everyone around you has some kind of cheat, or instruction manual you were not given, and they are all constantly inspecting you trying to prove that you don’t in fact know what you’re doing.”

This constant fear of being scrutinized by others is accompanied by both physical and psychological symptoms. Physical symptoms include excessive sweating, trembling, difficulty speaking, and rapid heart rate. Individuals also experience emotional and behavioural symptoms such as intense fear of interactions, and may spend time analyzing their social performance for flaws.  

According to Helen Costin, a clinician at the Student Wellness Hub, these physical and emotional symptoms result in avoidance behaviours.

“A person with social anxiety may go to great lengths to avoid social interactions and will make choices based on avoiding these interactions,” Costin wrote in an email to the Tribune. 

The fear of being judged by others, especially in public settings, can interfere with eating and working habits.

“I also have trouble being comfortable doing anything in front of other people, especially eating in public,” Ashley wrote. “There have been many days I haven’t eaten at school because I was alone.”

Other avoidance behaviours include refraining from dating and asking questions in public. 

Symptoms of social anxiety often appear in early adolescence, around the age of 13. According to Dr. Tina Montreuil, an assistant professor in McGill’s Department of Educational and Counselling Psychology, both nature and nurture are responsible for the development of the disorder. 

“The incidence of anxiety disorders more generally are associated with a genetic predisposition combined [with] an interplay [of] environmental factors,” Montreuil wrote in an email to the Tribune. 

Physiological abnormalities such as imbalances of serotonin, a chemical found in the brain that helps regulate mood, and an overactive amygdala, a brain structure that controls fear and anxiety responses, play key roles in the development of SAD. Moreover, anxiety tends to run in families, further supporting its genetic basis. However, an individual’s upbringing is also a pivotal factor.

“Systemic factors such as overly controlling parenting, greater criticism potentially stemming from inadequate parental support, lack of adequate coping skills, and poor sense of personal competence are all associated with a greater incidence of anxiety,” Montreuil wrote. “In some cases, exposure to violence, trauma, or bullying could be [a] trigger of social anxiety.”

Given that SAD has causes and symptoms that are both psychological and biological, psychotherapy and medication are both effective treatments. 

Cognitive behavioural therapy, exposure therapy, and group therapy have all been shown to ease symptoms. Cognitive behavioural therapy teaches individuals how to control anxiety through relaxation and breathing exercises, and also how to replace negative thoughts with positive ones. Exposure therapy helps make individuals more comfortable in anxiety-triggering situations by gradually introducing them to social situations. In group therapy, individuals acquire social skills and techniques to interact with other people. Therapists try to provide a safe, non-judgmental environment for patients to practice these skills through role-playing.

Common medications used to treat social anxiety disorder include Paxil, Zoloft, and Effexor XR, which are anti-anxiety medications as well as antidepressants. However, caution must be exercised with medications: Common side effects include insomnia, weight gain, and upset stomach.  

The pandemic has only increased the number of university students struggling with SAD. Extended periods of isolation have both eliminated opportunities for students to exercise social skills and cut them off from the social contacts they feel comfortable with. 

“What we’re seeing in the data is that students across Canada and the United States are reporting increasing feelings of loneliness and anxiety—it’s a phenomenon that touches all university campuses, not just McGill,” Dr. Vera Romano, Director of the Student Wellness Hub, wrote in an email to the Tribune. 

Students suffering from this disorder encounter many academic barriers in addition to feeling socially stunted. Even routine classroom activities such as presenting in front of the class and interacting with peers become harder, potentially impacting their academic performance. 

“It could conceivably make it more difficult for such a student to give a presentation, participate in group work, and if severe enough, attend larger classes,” Teri Philips, Director of the Office for Students with Disabilities (OSD), told the Tribune.

Students with anxiety often make their academic choices around the avoidance of potentially triggering situations.

“Trying to take classes with a larger number of people can make you feel less observed [or] scrutinized,” Ashley wrote. “Trying to take at least one class with a friend also helps if you have questions about the course material and are too scared to ask a TA, [as well as] signing up for a class with little or no participation marks.”

SAD can also impact student life outside the classroom such as when joining student clubs or participating in university events.

“I am the only one out of my friends who has not participated in or joined any university groups, organizations, [or] clubs,” Ashley wrote. “Since I don’t have to interact with anyone, I am unable to practice, and I get stuck in a negative reinforcement cycle.” 

Despite their virtual delivery, McGill offers services to help students who are struggling to manage the symptoms of social anxiety. Many of these resources are available through the Student Wellness Hub, which attempts to provide basic mental health services as well as peer support programs to students at both the Macdonald and downtown campuses. However, the Wellness Hub is plagued by long waiting times, lack of staff, and absence of long-term support plans.  

Other obstacles also further prevent students from accessing these services. Poor time management, already a stressor for those with anxiety, often results in students prioritizing pressing deadlines, pushing mental health concerns to the wayside. Moreover, 90 per cent of people with SAD often have comorbidities resulting in them suffering from an additional mental illness such as depression or a different anxiety disorder. These compounded symptoms and avoidance behaviours constitute serious obstacles for students in need of support.   

The university needs to increase access to mental health services, but professors can also ease the burden on anxious students by improving classroom accommodations. 

“I have always appreciated any effort to include anonymity by professors [in class participation],” Ashley wrote. “Simple awareness and recognition by professors would also be helpful, such as having multiple options so students aren’t forced into assignments or positions that will induce an anxiety attack.”

*Name has been changed to preserve anonymity.

Features

Walk a mile in our shoes

by Sepideh Afshar on

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I love walking. From taking in the sights and sounds around me, to feeling the fresh air on my skin, I have fond memories of my walks, both by myself and with others. I often insist on walking home from wherever I may be, even if it means walking alone. The journey itself is almost always preceded by some inner turmoil about how late it is or how safe the route to my destination is—but I am stubborn and almost always end up convincing myself that I will be alright and that there is nothing to be afraid of. Vanessa Richardson, U1 Arts, shares my love of going on walks. 

 

“Walking around downtown Montreal was one of my favourite activities to do while I was on campus last year,” Richardson said in an interview with //The McGill Tribune//. “It was nice being able to walk from my residence to a café to study or get some fresh air to de-stress.” 

 

When I’m alone, I listen to podcasts, my current favourite being Modern Love by //The New York Times//. Otherwise, I will shuffle a playlist that I specifically curated to boost my mood during my solitary walks. I often purposely match my steps to the rhythm of the music, feeling like the main character. When I am walking alone, I usually start off feeling calm. Unfortunately, this feeling does not last long.

 

The decision to walk alone triggers a recurring cycle most women and female-presenting individuals experience on a regular basis: We overthink our actions out of a need to ensure our safety in a time where gender-based violence continues to skyrocket. While Montreal is fairly safe compared to other major cities, women’s safety is a perpetual predicament. In the past eight weeks, eight women have been killed in Montreal.

 

Stage 2: The onset of fear

 

It is usually when I look around and notice that there are few pedestrians that I become painfully aware of my vulnerability. As a 5-foot-2 woman of colour, it does not take much to feel unsafe on the street whether it be a car slowing down near me or a group of men that are on my path. Richardson noted that she was taught to expect the worst from a young age. 

 

“I have always been concerned about safety while travelling as a woman,” Richardson said. “I was taught to keep my guard up at night, so that is what I did. Knowing [that] cases [of gendered violence] are even more common for women of colour has amplified my own fears.”

 

As I continue on my way, I feel my adrenaline building, the sun has set and my mind is suddenly occupied by statistics and stories. One in three women in Canada experience unwanted sexual advances in public, and in Montreal, several women have been assaulted while walking in the Plateau. I tell myself I should have taken the bus, yet buses are enclosed spaces and even waiting at a bus stop can be dangerous. Taking an Uber also does not comfort me: The company’s own 2019 safety report included over 3,000 claims of sexual assault from clients. 

 

This is where the regret sets in. All the joy and excitement I felt before embarking on my journey home dissipates, and in its place is a feeling of dread. I wonder if anyone will be around to help me if something awful were to happen. The recent case of Sarah Everard, a U.K. woman killed by a police officer on a walk home in March, plagues my mind. For students like Sophie Arsenault, U1 Arts, Sarah’s story is just the latest reminder of the constant threats women face today, when even those who are supposed to keep us safe can harm us.  

 

“Sarah Everard’s story is one which depicts an abuse of power,” said Arsenault “It is difficult not to assume the fear of repetition in incidents when women are found missing on such a regular basis.”

 

By the time I realize that no mode of transportation can assure me, the pedestrians who initially prompted my anxieties have long passed by. The looming feeling of discomfort, however, does not fade until I arrive home. The cyclical nature of this feeling on every walk is a reflection of what women are taught to deal with from a young age: Discomfort is expected.

 

Stage 3: Contingency planning

 

Plagued with horror stories about the dangers of being a female-passing person out and about, we are often taught to plan ahead to avoid the worst. Richardson stays in contact with friends so they know her whereabouts—a practice often foreign to men. 

 

“I [make] sure to text my friends my location,” Richardson said. “[I] let them know how I’m doing throughout the night, and let them know [when] I got home safely.” 

 

I, on the other hand, usually forget to do so until I am prompted by a message. I scan my brain, trying to remember who I shared my location with. The list includes my sister, my boyfriend, and my roommates, but I am not sure if they would check my location if I did not let them know in advance that I was walking home. 

 

I regret laughing off a self-defense course offered in middle school, realizing I would not know what to do if I was confronted by harm. 

 

Stage 4: Self-soothing 

 

Eventually, my walk brings me to campus. Even if it means taking the long way home, arriving in the area always makes me feel better. The familiarity of the fairly-lit Y intersection and the sight of the Arts building brings a sense of comfort I do not feel on Parc or Sherbrooke. Many women, including Arsenault, consider McGill’s campus to be safe. 

Sports

Analytics, athletics, and you

by Zoe Babad-Palmer on

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Whether they know it or not, all sports fans, even casual ones, have probably encountered data analytics, from Sportsnet graphics to a player’s batting average or save percentage. The sheer amount of data used in sports analysis can be intimidating for someone unfamiliar with analytics, but gaining a basic understanding of this data and how they factor into games is easy to learn.

Analytics is the collection and use of statistical data to help teams and individuals measure their performance and improve upon it. These statistics can be basic, like a basketball player’s rebounds, or more advanced, like a football team’s intended air yards per pass attempt. Three major types of analytics are often used simultaneously: Descriptive analytics gather information about previous games, predictive analytics predict outcomes of future competitions, and prescriptive analytics recommend how to improve performance. 

Although the use of analytics is now standard across most sports leagues, the practice has only recently become mainstream. Billy Beane, the General Manager of Major League Baseball’s Oakland Athletics from 1998 to 2016, is believed to be the first sports executive to build their team’s lineup and strategy based on data analytics. The Athletics’ successful 2002 season, which culminated in a West Division title, was chronicled in the 2003 book and the 2011 movie Moneyball.

In the two decades since, many other sports have started to use analytics to monitor player data and a wealth of information has been available to the public. Dr. Timothy Chan, professor in the Department of Mechanical and Industrial Engineering at the University of Toronto, has followed the increased use of analytics in hockey for years.

“Back in 2009, when we were starting our hockey work, the data and the statistics that were being captured were still very simple,” Chan said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “In the 10 years since, there has been an explosion of data that leads to advanced stats that we can calculate. The interest [has grown] from pro all the way down to amateur and other levels of sport.”

The applications of analytics in professional sports are endless: Teams use prescriptive models to call plays and create player profiles to decide who to sign or draft. These profiles are often used in contract negotiations and when forming game lineups.

Despite the benefits of analytics, they are not without their troubles, as sports are by and large a “boys’ club,” and analytics is no exception. An estimated 85 per cent of attendees of the 2015 MIT Sloan Sports Analytics Conference were male, and only 22 out of 153 speakers were women. Chan is currently working on a project that aims to provide empirical data on the demographic makeup of the sports analytics community.

“We are trying to get a baseline of what is the state of diversity and inclusion in the field,” Chan said.

According to Stephen Gill, BCom ‘20, founder of the football analytics blog twitrsports, and master’s student at Northwestern University’s Analytics graduate program, the inaccessibility of data can also be a barrier to understanding them.

(twitrsports.com)

“There is a pretty big knowledge gap between the practitioners and the audience,” Gill said. “The practitioners don’t try as much as they should to make [information] accessible, and the audience sometimes can be resistant to change.”

McGill Athletics has started to use analytics for some of its varsity teams, including the men’s ice hockey team. Gianfranco Giuliano, the Director of Analytics for the Redbirds Hockey team, uses analytical data to strategize for games. Their statistical database contains over 75,000 data points, ranging from information about zone entries and exits, to expected goals, and passing networks. Giuliano said he creates post-game reports by analyzing video footage from games and then provides coaches with the data.

“The most important part of my job is communication,” Giuliano said. “Being able to relay these concepts in some form of a digestible, actionable kind of way is the most imperative. [You want to] give [coaches] something they can implement, whether it be a strategy, a lineup change, a concept, […] something where they can find some kind of a positive impact.”

In addition to game reports, Giuliano creates player profiles to better understand how players perform together on the ice.

(McGill Athletics)

“Once you have enough of those profiles amassed, 12 forwards and six [defence], then you can figure out why guys should be playing together, why they should not be playing together, and what works and what does not work,” Giuliano said. 

After delving into sports analytics, finding a foothold to produce and share one’s work can be daunting. Some specific knowledge needed—expertise in math and programming languages—and where to find information is not made immediately clear. While one can understand descriptive graphics online without deep knowledge of math and programming, specific skills are needed to produce original analytics data.

A few key steps will go a long way toward appreciating analytics, but the most important is understanding the sport. Reading about Jonathan Drouin’s offensive zone deployment is not without knowing the difference between a power play and penalty kill. 

The next step, Gill recommends, is to read as many books, blogs, or Tweets as possible.

“There are a lot of people who have written stuff in the past about every sport,” Gill said. “Twitter is a good spot to get a feel for the lay of the land, and from there, you can tell that there are [websites] that specialize in specific sports.”

Creating original analytics work, however, does require specific coding skills that can only be developed with time and effort.

“Entry-level analysts really need […] good programming skills, so probably Python or R, and a good grasp of basic statistics,” Chan said. 

While a formal education in statistics or computer science is helpful, many of the skills needed for analysis can be learned through websites like Coursera, Khan Academy, and Harvard Online Courses that offer free classes on statistics, programming, and data science. For those less mathematically-inclined, however, Giuliano recommends exploring data visualization tools like Tableau or PowerBI—programs that generate interactive graphics and reports—as well as Excel.

Chan, Gill, and Giuliano all emphasize that the most crucial step to embarking on an analytics journey is to begin proactive learning. The process starts by thinking of a question and finding data to provide an answer. Next, publicize the data in any way possible by starting a blog, using Twitter, or attending conferences, and talking to people in the sports analytics community. When it comes to becoming involved in analytics, Giuliano stressed the importance of asking for opportunities.

“Honestly, just ask,” Giuliano said. “It sounds so naive and utopian just to say it out loud, but […] people will always appreciate the help.”

Innovations in analytics are made every day, and conferences and contests like the NFL Big Data Bowl and the MIT Sloan Sports Analytics Conference encourage new ideas. As the world of analytics evolves, there are several new opportunities to learn and collaborate. With a clear picture of the tools available and how to access them, there is nothing stopping anyone from giving analytics a try.

Editorial, Opinion

Preventing gendered sexual violence requires systemic solutions

by The McGill Tribune Editorial Board on

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CLARIFICATION REGARDING DECLAN MCCOOL

The editorial below, published on April 7, 2021, referred to an anonymous complaint that had been made against Declan McCool in 2020 shortly after he was elected to the position of Vice-President Internal of the Students Society of McGill University

Despite reports in other media that the complaint had been dismissed on appeal, the Tribune failed to seek access to the appeal decision of the independent investigator Ms. Anaïs Lacroix. The Tribune failed to refer to those reports and also failed to contact McCool for his comments.

In fact, Independent Investigator Lacroix dismissed the complaints and concluded that “more likely than not, both parties had the capacity to consent to the sexual activities and that both parties gave continuous and affirmative consent to the activities…” Furthermore, that “there was less than a 51% chance that the incidents described in the complaint occurred.”

The Tribune apologizes for omitting the findings of Ms. Anaïs Lacroix’s as well as her dismissal of the entire complaint against Mr. McCool.

—

Content warning: Discussion of gendered and sexual violence. 

McGill students are constantly forced to grapple with gendered and sexual violence perpetrated within the community, and this year was no exception. In April 2020, accusations emerged regarding then-incoming Students’ Society of McGill University VP Internal Declan McCool, and in December, survivors spoke out about rampant sexual violence within residences––an environment meant to be safe. Over the course of the pandemic, rates of gendered violence have skyrocketed, with public health measures posing significant barriers to escaping unsafe living situations. All the while, support from the university has been sorely lacking, with student groups attempting to bridge the gaps wherever possible by engaging in advocacy and providing important services. McGill’s failure to prioritize women’s safety places an enormous burden on students––one that they should not have to alleviate on their own.

The university has been slow to enact sufficient measures against sexual violence on campus. Despite recent revisions to the university’s sexual violence policies, its efforts have proven to be inadequate.  McGill’s reporting procedures for sexual assault are burdensome and convoluted, and navigating the endless layers of bureaucracy is acutely stressful for individuals experiencing traumatic aftermath from assault. But issues with McGill’s approach start long before the reporting process. For instance, its Policy Against Sexual Violence does not guarantee protection from legal consequences to those who have consumed illegal drugs before being assaulted, an approach to handling disclosure that can discourage survivors from coming forward. Also troubling is the way the university fails to hold predatory professors accountable, despite numerous scandals regarding inappropriate conduct.  

There are many important student initiatives in place to help make up for McGill’s ongoing failure to support female-presenting students and survivors of sexual violence, including WALKSAFE and DriveSafe, for instance, Both operations help students go home safely after late nights studying at the library or after a night out––situations that can be particularly terrifying for female-presenting students. While meaningful, these services may not work for everyone. For example, students who have experienced sexual violence in the past may be hesitant to trust just anyone with their safety, especially at night. There is no question that these organizations provide important services, but they alone cannot solve systemic issues of gendered and sexual violence. 

McGill students have been clear that the university’s current approach to student safety is insufficient. Beyond providing support and proper education to student groups who are trying to support survivors, the university’s policies need to be further updated within a survivor-centric and intersectional framework, no matter the context in which they experience assault, rather than placing barriers to access based on factors like consuming illegal substances. Moreover, administrators must implement more robust mental health services to students who are put in harm’s way due to the lack of preventative measures. And as many areas of McGill’s campus are poorly lit, spatial changes are far past overdue as well. In light of its current fundraising campaigns, the university should have no problem funnelling resources to these essential student-run services, which are currently filling gaps the university has left.

Despite earnest attempts by student groups to make campus safer for their peers, systemic issues require systemic solutions. As a wealthy and influential institution, it is disgraceful that McGill ignores ongoing calls for better protection for its students rather than doing its part to address the ongoing crisis of gendered and sexual violence that festers within its walls and plagues its community.  

Ask a Scientist, Science & Technology

Dr. Lucy Gilbert honoured among Top 25 Women of Influence

by Zoe Karkossa on

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Women’s achievements and contributions to medical science have long been overlooked. To combat this prejudice and recognize their accomplishments across all disciplines, the annual Top 25 Women of Influence awards highlight Canadian women who have inspired positive change in their field of work. This year, Dr. Lucy Gilbert, a professor in McGill’s Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology and Department of Oncology, was recognized as one of 2021’s Top Women of Influence for her work on ovarian and endometrial cancer diagnosis. 

Gilbert was drawn to research surrounding the diagnosis of these forms of cancer due to the deadliness of the diseases and the decades-long lack of progress in improving patient survival rates. Gilbert started practicing medicine as an obstetrician-gynecologist (OB-GYN) in the United Kingdom and later worked as the Lead Cancer Clinician for two health districts in England. McGill, which did not have a gynecological research unit at the time, recruited Gilbert in 2001 to expand the university’s work in this field. 

Gilbert has been dedicated to researching cancer in women and educating students in the field ever since. She currently serves as the director of both Gynecological Oncology and the Women’s Health Research Centre at the McGill University Health Centre (MUHC). 

Gilbert credits Montreal women for their participation in research trials, without whom her work would not be possible. 

“The women of Montreal are so generous,” Gilbert said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “When we [recruit] them into a clinical trial and […] we say it may help you or may not help you, but it will help other women, they say, ‘I want to help other women’.”

Women who suffer from ovarian or endometrial cancer often report nonspecific symptoms, prolonging the waiting period before diagnosis. Such delays in diagnosis are a significant factor in the estimated 3,100 and 1,300 deaths caused in 2020 by ovarian and uterine cancer, respectively.

Working with her team at the MUHC’s Women’s Health Research Unit, Gilbert helped develop the DOvEEgene test, a screening test that enables doctors to detect early forms of these cancers. Although the pap test is commonly used to detect the genetic traces of cervical cancer, the DOvEEgene test expands its diagnostic power to cancers of the endometrium, Fallopian tubes, and ovaries. DOvEEgene is capable of detecting such cancers with a 70 per cent sensitivity and 100 per cent specificity rate, meaning that false positives—and their great emotional toll—are avoided altogether.

Although researchers have made progress toward improved healthcare for women, there is still a large gender gap in the care that they receive. Gilbert recognized that many battles are still being fought—both by the doctors working to improve the quality of medical care and the patients seeking it. She emphasized that female patients, in particular, benefit from receiving care from female healthcare providers.

“When [women] go to the doctor, […] they are apologetic and [try] to explain away some symptoms,” Gilbert said. “They are not listened to and they are not taken as seriously as men.”

Despite the daily challenges of confronting illness and death, Gilbert is committed to supporting her patients and their well-being. She affirms the importance of taking the time to understand each patient’s unique lived experience—regardless of how difficult it may be to step into their shoes.

“Of course I get sad, but you can do a lot of good, and that makes me very happy,” Gilbert said. “It is not just about [fighting cancer], it is also how you live and how you die that matters. There is a great deal to be said [about] making the quality of somebody’s life good and the manner of their dying [comfortable].”

Arts & Entertainment

‘Christian Dior’ exhibit highlights the simple extravagance of post-war haute couture

by India Blaisdell on

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Over time, the fashion industry has grown to rely on brand recognition to drive popularity and sales. Fashion houses such as Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and Dior have long remained in the cultural consciousness because they—quite literally—made a name for themselves. Backed by full-monogram outfits, celebrity brand ambassadors, and rap songs that pair haute couture with wealth, the influence of these fashion houses is undeniable. Amidst the rise of mass-produced fashion, however, the small world of haute couture has started to lose its original meaning. The Christian Dior fashion exhibit, on display until May 2 at the McCord Museum, brings the history of haute couture and the prestige of names back to the forefront.

Haute couture refers to a style of clothing that is tailor-made and hand-sewn for the client. Charles Frederick Worth cemented the term as an expression of the dressmaker’s artistic vision in the 19th century, and founded what is now the Fédération de la Haute Couture et de la Mode. In contrast, ready-to-wear clothing is mass-produced in a standard set of sizes for public consumption. Only certain fashion houses qualify to be on the official haute couture list, and those that do so use their haute couture lines as outlets for creativity and innovation while relying on their commercial ready-to-wear lines to survive financially. 

The Christian Dior exhibit seamlessly guides its visitors through the first decade (1947-1957) of the House of Dior. This decade defined the house’s present-day aesthetic values and influences, and Dior’s first haute couture line, dubbed the “New Look,” revolutionized women’s fashion and brought it out of the gloomy styles of World War II. With men fighting in the war and rations limiting access to finer fabrics, women wore industrial, masculine styles in simple, monochrome colours and patterns. 

The garments on display at Christian Dior are anything but conventionally masculine. Dior’s seminal “Bar jacket,” featured in many of the daytime outfits at the start of the exhibit, marked a return to traditional feminine styles and lines. The jacket, along with the matching long and flowy A-line skirts, emphasizes the waist and slims the shoulders. It brought womenswear firmly into the postwar era—think Betty Draper in Mad Men. Although culturally significant both then and now, the daytime suits and dresses are not the star of the show—that title is reserved for the evening gowns, presented in full glory at the end of the exhibit. 

One gown in particular stands out from the rest: A strapless dress Dior affectionately named Palmyre. The white satin is covered with incredible embroidery of fine threads, beads, and Swarovski crystals in stunning silver and blue. The seamstresses who created the gown used the “Lunéville technique,” a blind stitch in which the beads, sequins, and crystals are hidden from view. Although it may seem counterintuitive to embroider a garment on its reverse side, this technique allows the couturiers to work faster. 

In addition to the garments, Christian Dior features documentary video clips, sketches, jewellery, shoes, perfumes, and other accessories, creating a complete tour of Dior’s foundational years. From a modern point of view, the exhibit is deceptively simple—it is no match for the eclectic, innovative, and boundary-breaking works of Alexander McQueen and Rei Kawakubo’s ready-to-wear collections. However, the historical significance of Dior’s work in post-war France cannot be emphasized enough. By reinventing fashion aesthetics for society’s elite, Dior brought an entire industry back from the brink of extinction. Whether or not Dior’s current work under Maria Grazia Chiuri lives up to his legacy is of little importance: Christian Dior has already left his mark in the history of fashion.

Christian Dior runs until May 2 at the McCord Museum (690 Sherbrooke St W). In-person student tickets $14, virtual tours $8.50.

 

 

Commentary, Opinion

Park parties are not an acceptable response to pandemic fatigue

by Michelle Marcus on

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What started as a sunny afternoon on March 25 quickly devolved into a mid-pandemic disaster. Around 3:00 p.m. a crowd of students began to party in Montreal’s Jeanne Mance Park, forming a mob-like cluster despite ongoing provincial social distancing regulations prohibiting large gatherings. After two hours of moshing around a makeshift DJ station, the Montreal police shut the gathering down around 7:00 p.m.—but it was too late to mitigate the potential spread of the virus. These students’ disregard for public health demonstrates a lack of empathy and social responsibility, jeopardizes the health of community members, and damages McGill students’ reputation. Students must realize that COVID fatigue is not a valid excuse for putting lives at risk. 

Montreal’s anti-mask and anti-curfew protests capture just a fraction of Quebecers’ frustration with red-zone regulations. Students, in particular, feel robbed of the parties and social gatherings closely associated with university culture. These sentiments are understandable, and the temptation to let loose after months of lockdown is natural. The beginning of spring has also sparked nostalgia for events like Frosh and OAP—a painful reminder that COVID-19 cancels the ‘play’ side of McGill’s unofficial ‘work hard play hard’ motto. Still, students must resist the urge to equate the end of Montreal’s winter to the end of the pandemic. 

After losing my grandmother to COVID-19 last April, I received nothing but support from fellow McGill students. Despite the pain of loss, I was comforted by the apparent commitment of my peers to do their part in limiting the spread of the virus. Ironically, some of the students who posted videos on social media from the thick of Thursday’s crowd were the same people who offered me their heartfelt condolences just 11 months earlier. Considering the copious amounts of knowledge surrounding virus transmission, those who participated in the gathering cannot plead ignorance––by now, students all know that large gatherings are counterproductive to Quebec’s recent progress in reducing case counts. 

From the onset of the pandemic, young people have been unjustifiably pointed to as the source of spiking infection rates. Considering that many students have responsibly obeyed regulations, this constant finger-pointing can feel uncalled for. Incidents like the gathering at Jeanne Mance, however, suggest that it may be more warranted than we would like to admit. Although only a fraction of McGill students were involved in the gathering, events like these rightfully anger community members, as large gatherings increase the likelihood of Montreal’s red-zone being extended. While some students will have the luxury of escaping Montreal’s restrictions for the summer, local businesses and essential workers will continue to face the financial and psychological consequences of lockdown measures. If these restrictions work to prevent others from having to say final goodbyes to loved ones on the phone or increase the likelihood of returning to in-person classes, compliance is morally necessary.

The way people responded to my family’s loss demonstrates that students have successfully grasped the role of empathy. However, empathizing with families like mine, who have shown resilience in overcoming the traumas of COVID-19, is not enough. If students are not willing to sacrifice their personal desires to do their part to solve an issue directly impacting their peers and their families, claims of allyship in social causes like Black Lives Matter and anti-Asian racism ring hollow. 

With the vaccine rollout underway and the return to relative normalcy within reach, it is counterintuitive to jeopardize the province’s progress––especially with a third wave looming. It is encouraging to see that many students have refused to use the weather as an excuse to behave irresponsibly. However, the actions of students who took part in Thursday’s gathering are a slap in the face to those enduring the loneliness of isolation or dealing with the pain of attending Zoom memorials for their loved ones.

Arts & Entertainment, Music

MSAI virtual coffee house fundraises for Meals for Milton Parc

by Yifan Wu on

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On March 19, McGill Students for Amnesty International (MSAI) hosted Jamnesty, an annual coffee house fundraiser featuring student and alumni artists. The event was free but organizers encouraged audience members to donate money as part of their “ticket.” The initiative resulted in $1,042 raised for Meals for Milton-Parc, a student-run community organization that provides food and supplies to unhoused people in the neighbourhood.

Previous iterations of the coffee house have taken place at local venues, but this year’s event was held on Zoom due to the pandemic. With quick reminders for the audience to hit mute and performers to unmute themselves, the first screen-share began.

Sarah Plenge, BA ‘21 and California-based artist, kicked off the show with an original poem. She appeared via pre-recorded video and performed a love letter to Montreal. Speaking solemnly and with a slight rasp, Plenge delivered terse snapshots of the city, capturing in vivid detail both its most picturesque scenes and its more dreary sights. Her care to depict Montreal in its entirety demonstrated her true love for the city—even the gritty parts.

The first musical number of the night came from Alina Jalink, U2 Arts and a member of McGill a cappella group Tonal Ecstasy. Armed with a ukulele, gray cardigan, and girl-next-door charm, Jalink began her first original song, “Butterflies,” in a delicate, ethereal falsetto. Jalink’s backdrop of Polaroids and tie-dye canvas created an intimate setting that would be unachievable onstage; Jamnesty’s audience looked directly into her bedroom.

Jalink continued her set with a cover of Taylor Swift’s “Right Where You Left Me,” before a cascade of plucked strings introduced her second original song “Spring Cleaning.” 

“The thing I can’t seem to get rid of is how much I care,” Jalink sang. “I can’t make you leave when I still wear the necklace you gave me.” 

Once she finished, the audience flooded the chat with supportive comments and clapping emojis.

Caroline Lauf, U1 Arts and also a member of Tonal Ecstasy, embodied an entirely different aesthetic: Long, dramatic, black curls framed her face, and the walls of her own bedroom stood bare. Lauf began her set with a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “That’s Alright.” Playing a muted guitar, Lauf transformed the originally upbeat single into a heartfelt, bittersweet send-off.

“I hope you find love, your own designs love, that’s alright,” Lauf sang.

Lauf’s strong and dark vocals carried over to her next song, a cover of Harry Styles’ ballad “From the dining table.”

Lauf showcased her lower vocal range in her final selection, Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.”. Clearly comfortable in chest register, Lauf exuded the quiet confidence of a performer at home onstage, or in this case, on-screen. Her voice on the descending melody of the title lyric was mesmerizing.

Ending the night was Katie Harbour, U3 Science, who performed a mashup of SZA’s “Love Galore” and Jhené Aiko’s “Everything Must Go,” on her guitar, followed by Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You.” Then came time for the final verse of the night, Blackstreet’s “No Diggity.”

“This last song is a certified banger,” Harbour said. 

And as if only one banger did not suffice, she then transitioned into Robin Schulz’s “Sugar.” In response, the chat lit up with cheers, and expressions of delighted surprise appeared on the faces of audience members. Harbour matched the spike in energy as her own face lit up with a smile.

In addition to fundraising for a worthy cause, Jamnesty 2021 provided a much-appreciated night of joy. It offered an escape into the wonderful world of art and music—not only did it speak to our communal need for a thriving performing arts scene, but it also demonstrated the resilience of those who’ve continued to practice their crafts and perform.

Meals for Milton-Parc is currently seeking both monetary and item donations.

 

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘Kim’s Convenience:’ The impossibility of cancelling a classic

by Matthew Molinaro on

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On March 31, 2020, CBC announced that Kim’s Convenience—their fan-favourite sitcom—had been renewed for two more seasons. Less than one year later, on March 8, 2021, fans around the world were shocked when the network announced that the fifth season of Kim’s Convenience would be its last. The confusion set in immediately, with many wondering why a network would cancel such a highly-rated and well-received popular comedy so abruptly. Although the decision—made by producers because co-creators Ins Choi and Kevin White were leaving for other projects—may seem justified, it is a risky move nonetheless. To end a show in its prime, particularly one that represents an underrepresented racialized group, seems like a major blunder for CBC. Yet it was exactly the show’s own risks—from its unconventional casting approaches to its radical plot choices—that made it popular and that will ultimately cement it in Canadian cultural consciousness.

When Kim’s Convenience first aired in 2016, the cultural winds of Canadian TV were sweeping in; Schitt’s Creek had already been on air for a year, and Workin’ Moms and Anne with an E were in production. But unlike its contemporaries, Kim’s Convenience had no connection to previous Canadian successes with which the network nor the showrunners could use to bolster the show’s reputation. Instead, Kim’s Convenience originated from humble beginnings: It was first a play starring Paul Sun-Hyung Lee and Jean Yoon, who would reprise their roles as “Appa” Sang-il and “Umma” Yung-mi on television. Meanwhile, Schitt’s Creek had Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara, Workin’ Moms had Catherine Reitman, and Anne with an E had author Lucy Maud Montgomery’s international reputation. Alongside Lee and Yoon were talented, then-unknown actors ready to make their breakthrough: Andrea Bang and Simu Liu, who play Lee and Yoon’s children Janet and Jung, and supporting actor Andrew Phung, who plays Kimchee, pursued atypical acting post-secondary education in psychology, business, and economics respectively. 

Five years later, the virtually no-name cast won consistently at the Canadian Screen Awards, with Lee winning twice for Best Actor in a Comedy Series in 2017 and 2018, and Deidre Bowen and Millie Tom winning Best Achievement in Casting in 2017. Further, Liu is set to become the first Asian actor to lead a Marvel film in Shang-Chi and the Legend of Ten Rings, and Phung and Nicole Power have new shows in the works. Even though choosing actors from different experiential backgrounds can be risky for a major network sitcom, each actor entered the show with a drive that allowed them to embody their characters, displaying the power of a robust cast.

Beyond the deft acting, Kim’s Convenience represented Canada and Toronto’s diversity. The show centres around the Kims, a Korean-Canadian family who operate their titular convenience store in the Moss Park neighbourhood in Toronto. On the one hand, the show’s navigation of immigrant family dynamics and its exploration of racialized identities in a Western context accurately reflect the lived experiences of many living in Toronto, where half of the population is foreign-born, and another half is racialized. Yet, Kim’s Convenience did not make the same mistakes as its predecessors, like All-American Girl, which universalized individual experiences and made stereotypical jokes about accents. 

The show abided by routine sitcom procedures like cold opens and running plot points throughout while also tieing in issues like racism, family tensions, and aging. The pilot episode started off on this deft footing: Overwhelmed by the crowds at Toronto Pride, Mr. Kim offers a “gay discount” and learns about drag while Mrs. Kim posts an ad for a cool, Korean, Christian boyfriend for Janet. From that point on, the showrunners were able to marshal in a new era of Canadian television, one that celebrates a unique Korean-Canadian experience. 

Whether it be street car rides that showcase Toronto architecture, Janet’s education at the OCAD University, or jabbing at Muskoka cottage culture, the show lives and breathes a more accurate picture of Toronto and Canada. Kim’s Convenience may have been cancelled, but its impact on Canadian cultural formation will live on.

The finale of Kim’s Convenience will air on April 13.

Commentary, Opinion

Campus Conversation: McGill students’ resilience

by Jonathon Cruickshank, Kennedy McKee-Braide, Sophia Howard on

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Music 

Johnathon Cruickshank, Staff Writer 

Montreal’s creative spirit is difficult to put into words. Friends and family, too, have commented on the city’s distinct feel. One explanation may be its diverse and multilingual community, or perhaps it is the combination of the European aesthetics of Old Port and the laissez-faire style of the Plateau Mont-Royal. It may even be the vibrant student populations who keep the city young. For me, however, it has always been the rich and lively music scene. Whether it was attending outdoor performances at OAP or open mic nights in crowded basements, my first two years of university filled me with musical memories to last a lifetime. Although we may not be quite as artsy as our friends over at Concordia, McGill students have delivered some of the brightest and most talented acts in the city.  

The COVID-19 pandemic made it more difficult for the city’s music scene to thrive, with the days of big crowds, packed venues, and collective jam sessions are on pause for the foreseeable future. However, McGill students have adapted to these unprecedented circumstances, finding ways to prevent the pandemic from snuffing out creative expression. As the world went virtual, so, too, did our vibrant music community, displaying resilience only found in the most trying of times.   

Just before cities around the world plunged into lockdowns over one year ago, a good friend of mine had launched a student-run record label that sought to platform McGill musical artists. Now operating entirely online, Green House Effect records has become a revolving door of talent, lighting up the student music scene. Some of my favourite Friday nights in quarantine have been spent tuning in to their Twitch stream to listen to their in-house DJ mix the latest hits, filling the musical void that would otherwise have been satisfied by a night out at the club.   

Students have also been putting their performance skills towards charitable causes. On March 23, Meals for Milton-Parc teamed up with Jam for Justice to host a virtual event that demonstrated the power of music in bringing students together in solidarity with marginalized communities. It was a thrill to listen to the series of coffee house performances by local artists, especially knowing that it was for a good cause. Events like these go to show that even a  global pandemic cannot deter the McGill community’s creative output.          

Friendships 

Kennedy McKee-Braide, Managing Editor 

The day after McGill announced the two-week closure of the university back in March 2020, I sat with my three best friends in one of their basements making plans for the upcoming two weeks of freedom. At this point, none of us truly understood how serious the pandemic would become, but we would soon realize that it would be quite some time before we could see each other again. For those first months of quarantine, I cried over missing my friends more times than I’d like to admit. After all, they are my rocks, and I hate when we are apart for too long. 

Despite not being able to have sleepovers or watch shitty television over bottles of wine and junk food, we found ways to adapt. Days before my 21st birthday, I was dreading spending the milestone alone, when my doorbell rang and I was met with a package––a weighted blanket from my friends, who had remembered that I mentioned wanting one months before. On the day of my birthday, we watched almost the entire season of Too Hot To Handle together on Netflix Party, and I felt incredibly loved. 

Over the past year, one of our favourite activities have been our weekly—and sometimes even daily—Netflix Party routine. By my calculations, we have watched at least eight different shows together since the onset of the pandemic, and right now, we are rewatching the entirety of Pretty Little Liars. People are often confused when I tell them what shows we are watching, because they are almost always of awful quality. But nothing makes me happier than time spent with my friends making fun of Riverdale’s ever-deteriorating plotlines, or watching some good old-fashioned reality TV. 

At the end of the Fall 2021 semester, two of the four of us will be graduating from McGill, with the rest of us following suit in Winter and Fall 2022. We all have ambitious dreams for life after undergrad, some of which will inevitably require us to leave Montreal. We try not to think about this too much, because the thought of being apart is unbearable. However, if the pandemic has proven anything, it is that friends can always find ways to share laughs, love, and new experiences, no matter how far apart they are.

Humour 

Sophia Howard, Contributor 

Throughout the hardships of the pandemic, students’ sense of humour has been a great strength. Nothing brings people together like a good laugh, and university students have always survived tough times by poking fun at shared struggles. Even before remote classes, students shared jokes on Instagram meme accounts, Facebook groups, and the McGill subreddit. 

The news that comes through social media is often overwhelmingly negative—between horrifying COVID-19 death counts and gruesome details of human rights violations committed across the world—and it is important to have a variety of coping mechanisms, whether through friends, family, and various hobbies. Seeing a meme amidst one’s feed is one way to take a break from the constant bad news. 

Remarkably, the university’s comedians rose to the challenge of COVID-19 like never before. Meme pages mocked MRO Communications’ emails, Associate Provost Christopher Buddle’s daily vlogs, and even the province’s curfew. Instead of despairing about these difficulties, humour has helped students cheer each other up. Facebook groups like McGill Poll Party, for example, provide a community where students freely rant or joke about their experiences. In honour of remote learning, the popular Instagram meme page @eatingassinottomaas recently changed its name during the pandemic to @eatingassinonlineclass. When the McGill community heard of absurd events like the infamous fight club, meme pages immediately responded with a host of jokes about the event.

Research shows that a simple laugh can relieve stress by reducing stress hormones like cortisol. Even anticipating laughter can help the immune system by releasing oxytocin—a hormone linked to increased empathy and bonding. By joking with our peers through the internet, we are able to forge a sense of comradery. Having dedicated internet spaces to visit for comedic relief has supported students’ wellbeing.

The past year has been bleak for McGill students, but levity has helped them persevere through hardship and focus on the bright side of things.

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