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Commentary, Opinion

Residence should be a safe space for students

Living in student residences is an experience that many first year McGill students cherish, and for the 2020-21 incoming class, one of the only in-person aspects of McGill left. Yet for many women in New Residence Hall this year, living in residence quickly became a painful part of their first year experience. In mid-December, students began a justice campaign when multiple women came forward with allegations of sexual violence at the hands of a fellow student in residence. McGill’s response to this was disappointingly inadequate. While McGill is bound legally from sharing information about the proceedings, acknowledging how damaging this experience is for women in residences is necessary. With the new COVID-19 restrictions in place, McGill’s negligence is more shameful than ever. 

After the women’s stories came out, students flooded the comment section of McGill’s official Instagram page, demanding action from the university. Meanwhile, a petition started by the survivors reached over 50,000 signatures, amounting to much more than the total student population at McGill. McGill made an unsatisfactory statement stating that they are aware of the allegations and looking into the situation. Now, a month later, the women still need to be on alert to spot an alleged predator in their classes. As an institution that demands tolerance and respect from those staying in residences, as well as all students, this is unacceptable. The fear amongst students, especially those living in residence, will not be mitigated until McGill takes action by removing this student from McGill classes if evidence holds. Additionally, a better statement could make clear the consequences of predatory behaviour on campus without sharing private information. 

McGill’s silence has resulted in not just anger and fear amongst students, but has gone even further to jeopardize the academic performance of women in residences. Feeling unsafe in residence means feeling uncomfortable in your home: The very environment where students study, socialize and sleep. Enabling predators to inhabit these spaces results in increased stress amongst the residents. This stress can lead to isolation, decreased sleep quality, and difficulty concentrating in classes. McGill is supposed to foster a space where students can succeed. The university can offer services like OSVRSE for victims of sexual violence, but until they demonstrate that they wholly condemn predators, those services are inadequate. 

Montreal’s new COVID-19 regulations further exacerbate the situation at hand. Quebec recently implemented a curfew, lasting from 8 p.m. to 5 a.m. each day, confining those living in residence to a home where they feel unsafe. While the curfew disproportionately affects women, McGill has the power to do something to remedy the situation in residences. Students should not be riddled with anxiety or fear at the thought of leaving their rooms to go to the cafeteria, especially when that is a place they need to go. 

Students in residence are now stuck there for at least nine hours of the day; not to mention that other than walks, there are few opportunities to spend time outside during Montreal’s frigid winters. McGill’s first years need support, and the new lockdown has added another layer of urgency. The university’s inaction is affecting students’ mental health and potentially even their academic record, a permanent reflection of their studies. McGill should be mitigating its students’ stress, not adding to it. Women at McGill deserve answers. This is the administration’s opportunity to show students at McGill that sexual violence on campus will not be tolerated and that victims who speak out will be heard and protected.

Arts & Entertainment, Pop Rhetoric, Theatre

Pop Rhetoric: How TikTok democratized Broadway during a global pandemic

The first musical of its kind, Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical served up a delicious community-baked Broadway treat this January. Based on the Disney-Pixar 2007 film Ratatouille, the project began last year on Aug. 10 when TikTok user Emily Jacobsen posted a TikTok of her squeaking out a high-pitched ode to Remy, the film’s rat protagonist. A few months later, on Oct. 19, composer Daniel J. Mertzlufft adapted the song, adding orchestration to create a full-blown musical finale. The idea grew from a simple meme to a creative prompt—hundreds of theatre-minded creatives followed with their own songs, dance choreographies, stage sets, lighting designs, costume ideas, puppets, and even theoretical playbill designs

Some particularly outstanding songs were those written by Gabbi Bolt, such as “Trash Is Our Treasure,” (and its tragic reprise) for Django, Remy’s father. Bolt was also easily matched by the songwriting superpower of 17-year-old Blake Rouse, who astounded with multiple compositions such as the Finale, an upbeat number for Remy’s brother Emile, The Rat’s Way of Life, and the electrifying, tension-filled Colette’s Tango, featuring a pas-de-deux between the fiery Colette Tatou and the clumsy Alfredo Linguini. Many other artists and composers contributed to the musical repertoire, most notably Sophia James, RJ Christian, Nathan Fosbinder, and Katie Johantgen, among countless others. 

But they weren’t alone. The project quickly enticed many Broadway superstars, including the likes of Dear Evan Hansen‘s Andrew Barth Feldman and Hollywood veteran Kevin Chamberlin. Only a few days after graphic designer Jessie Siswick posted her playbill, the company itself reached out to her and requested to repost it on their website. A few hours later, Disney and Pixar tweeted it. Two days after Disney’s tweet, two-time Tony-award-winning Broadway producer Ken Davenport posted a TikTok expressing his interest in producing the musical on the big (computerized) stage. 

Just like that, an idea that started as a joke and simmered as a community project of creatives from around the world had dished out the first virtual, TikTok-produced, Broadway spectacle ever made. The performance was streamed on TodayTix.com from Jan. 1-4, and even had an encore performance, raising a total of two million dollars for The Actors Fund. As such, Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical served the industry in two ways—as an entertainingly delightful production for musical-deprived drama lovers everywhere, and as a revolutionary work of theatre.

Broadway has always been a cutthroat industry. It is not unheard of for actors seeking a paying career to attend top-tier performing arts academies or conservatories, relocate to New York City, and spend years of their life and exorbitant sums of money for a chance to step foot into the audition room. Even with experience under their belt, only 10 per cent of musical theatre performers get cast. 

The multi-million-dollar success of Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical has demonstrated, to some extent, the gratuitous needlessness of these institutions. Performers of many ages, backgrounds, and levels of training were able to collaborate on a musical from the comfort of their own homes thousands of miles across the globe.

Already, artists are working away on a Bridgerton musical that similarly started as a joke posted by creators Abigail Barlow and Emily Bear. It quickly gained the attention of choreographers, singers, songwriters, graphic designers, and intimacy directors—ultimately being picked up by the BBC and Playbill just thirteen days later. Had Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical not been the magnanimous, unforeseen sensation it had been, there would absolutely not be the same level of trust in small creators to produce a musical.

If Ratatouille: The TikTok Musical has done one thing, it has reminded us that at its core, success in musical theatre does not, and should not, depend on the dog-eat-dog institutions from which it is born, but rather on the radical joy of community, grassroots art-making. After all, as Chef Gusteau always said, “Anyone can cook.”

Arts & Entertainment, Pop Rhetoric

The ‘Steel Magnolia’ Ms. Dolly Parton

As she celebrates her 75th birthday, Dolly Rebecca Parton, of Pittman Center, Tennessee, remains one of the finest country music stars. To some, Parton is simply that: A star. But to others, her body of work is above simple concepts of “stardom.” In 1989, well after the successes of albums Jolene and Coat of Many Colors, Parton starred in Steel Magnolias as a small-town beautician. The film’s title refers to its characters, who are tough as steel yet sweet as magnolias. But the reference goes past the characters; it defines Parton in her personification of the all-American feminized good.

Parton’s upbringing was difficult, as she grew up impoverished in rural Tennessee. Due to this background, Parton faced criticism and judgment, and was called superficial insults like “trailer trash” or “hillbilly.’ Her famous look, marked by her blond wigs and figure-hugging outfits, also attracted an outpour of misogynistic and classist remarks. This never fazed Parton, and she would never disavow her home or appearance. Her upbringing molded the iconic Southern Belle ideal of politeness, respect, and hard work we know today. In shaping her look around her hometown’s “town tramp,” embodying a type of shunned sexuality, Parton supports women unfairly judged by circumstance and subverts the common idea of an “angel’s” look.

Through the ‘60s and ‘70s, Parton’s career flourished with hits like “I Will Always Love You” and “Here You Come Again.” Along the way, she helped foster the careers of other female musicians such as Emmylou Harris and Linda Ronstadt and collaborated with Donna Summer. Her openness to collaborate with other artists and genres led to successes in the pop and bluegrass charts, fulfilling Parton’s childhood dream of making as many people happy as she could.

That dream was fruitful. Appealing to the public usually requires a celebrity to avoid all controversy, often leading to an apolitical, neutral stance. Yet, Parton balances having mass appeal while firmly keeping her integrity and beliefs. Parton is a child-literacy philanthropist, a long-time supporter of civil rights, and uses the Dollywood foundation to aid her hometown with counseling and food resources. During the pandemic, Parton donated one million dollars to research for the Moderna vaccine

As the United States has become increasingly polarized, celebrities have either entered into political conversations or remained silent on partisan topics. For the entirety of her career, Parton has remained in the second camp, eternally elusive on her political leanings. For some, Parton should get involved in politics, given the outright, politically-aligned principles grounding her work. In an economically and racially diverse state like Tennessee, where Democratic strongholds like Memphis and Nashville are at odds with the rural remainder of the state, Parton’s influence could wield significant sway. 

On the other hand, Parton’s philanthropy could be the reason why she avoids political interference. Perhaps her focus is on real change; not questionable lip service, but rather on the tangible benefits that come from her donations. Rather than working inside of the system like the celebrities at the Democratic National Convention, this outsider approach makes a visible change to Tennesseans’ lives. From being a sympathetic employer to a quasi-librarian, Parton’s work directly affects issues of education and literacy, which cycles back to employment. Whether she is a “cut-from-the-cloth” conservative or a “til-the-sun sets” socialist, Parton enacts an agenda for the common good, which is more than an endorsement could ever do.

Parton’s global impact is timeless. She will always remain relevant to this generation—not just because of the anti-capitalist, pro-worker message of “9 to 5,” the subtle queer undertones of “Jolene,” or her heartwarmingly protective relationship with god-daughter Miley Cyrus, but because of her unabashed perseverance to be herself against all expectations. Parton’s kind, altruistic, and hard-working authenticity makes her a Steel Magnolia like no other. As she celebrates her 75th year, having given the world so much, it is only fair that we celebrate her, too.

 

Arts & Entertainment, Books

The 123’s of the ABC’s

Amidst the final days of the add/drop period and reshuffling schedules, the McGill Library has brought a different type of organization to the forefront. On Jan. 22, the McGill Library hosted a Zoom discussion by social historian and author Judith Flanders on her latest book, A Place for Everything: A Curious History of Alphabetical Order. Flanders spoke about how she became interested in the subject, as well as the historical basis of the written word, the development of different systems of organization, and the autonomy and ambiguity of alphabetical order as we know it.

Flanders fell into the subject in a way many students can likely empathize with—through Wikipedia. While reading a review of a book about the online encyclopedia service, Flanders was intrigued by the reviewer’s disdain for the author, whom the reviewer claimed did not address how Wikipedia’s system of organization proved that encyclopedias no longer needed to be alphabetized. Around a month later, at an art exhibition, Flanders gained a renewed interest in the historical past and differentiation of information classification, and came to find that Wikipedia’s method of organization was not as innovative as the reviewer believed.

Early in the talk, Flanders established the important distinction between the English alphabet and alphabetization. Although any alphabet is integral to reading and writing, attempting to find meaning in the alphabetization of the letters is effectively pointless. The alphabet has an established order, but it means basically nothing, since it does nothing to teach people how to read and write. 

“It’s interesting that we go back to meaning, since alphabetical order as a sorting tool is meaningless,” Flanders said. 

Flanders explained that there is no available historical evidence to explain why the English alphabet is ordered the way it is; there is only evidence demonstrating how it became such an integral system of organization, which it wasn’t always seen as. For centuries, other methods of organization, such as chronological, geographical, and hierarchical order, were perceived as more natural and therefore favoured over alphabetical order.

“When you ask somebody today to put the days of the week or the months of the year in alphabetical order, you have to think quite hard to do it,” Flanders said.

While those methods might be more naturally apparent and do not necessarily require any knowledge of the alphabet, they eventually became more laborious to use because they required significantly more effort and knowledge to access information. Flanders fleshed out this notion with the example of a doomsday book detailing land occupancy in England and Wales in the 11th century—it was organized first by status, then geography, then back to status, and lastly by wealth. It was originally commissioned by William the Conqueror, the king at the time, for tax purposes. Future readers looking to understand the information needed to develop a complex knowledge of the hierarchies and groups within each of the geographical regions. In contrast, alphabetical order requires no substantial previous knowledge of history and society. 

Towards the end of her talk, Flanders spoke on the duality of alphabets and alphabetical order in the world. 

“Alphabetical order is both omnipresent and invisible,” Flanders said. “It’s something that everyone knows how to use and something nobody knows anything about.” 

The system is ingrained in modern society and culture, but its existence and role in the world creates a massive contradiction: While the lack of inherent meaning or bias makes the order amenable to many contexts, it also could be seen as too meaningless to be important. 

When answering a question from an audience member about the potential longevity of alphabetical order, Flanders observed that the system was not widely used until the 13th century and that there is a very likely possibility that it will become obsolete in the future. But despite the existentialism behind questions of what a world without mass alphabetical order would look like, Flanders seemed excited to see where it goes.

“Will [alphabetical order] end up being a phase?” Flanders asked. “An 800-year phase, maybe!”

 

McGill, News

Professor rosalind hampton hosts talk on building anticolonial strategies

In combination with the Subcommittee on Racialized and Ethnic Persons (REP) and the Black Students’ Network (BSN), professor rosalind hampton hosted a virtual book talk and conversation on Jan. 20 to discuss her new book Black Racialization and Resistance at an Elite University. The book details the experiences of Black people studying and teaching at McGill University and examines how those experiences have been shaped by settler colonialism and racial capitalism. 

“Black people have attended and worked at the university since the 19th century,” hampton said. “As in Canada more broadly, this presence and the contributions of these people have largely been erased and excluded from institutional histories. My book contributes to correcting this erasure.”

Khalid Medani, associate professor in the departments of Political Science and Islamic studies, chair of the African Studies program at McGill, and member of the McGill Black Faculty Caucus, introduced professor hampton. 

“[Professor hampton’s book] gave me an understanding of the real struggles, marginalizations, [and] violence meted out against Indigenous people not only historically, but also in the university.” Medani said.

Medani commended hampton’s work on dispelling the division between African and Black studies. 

“Rosalind hampton allows us to be both African and Black, and both Black and African in a seamless way,” Medani said. “There are lots of structural, racist, and other institutional, historical barriers […] that have kept Africans and African studies apart from Blacks and Black studies.”

Hampton then opened the discussion to the audience and answered pre-submitted questions from attendees curated by BIPOC student moderators.

One audience member asked about the greatest challenge to Black and Indigenous inclusion at McGill University, noting the university’s history of exclusion

“Colonialism is the greatest challenge,” hampton said. “[It is] colonialism and the logics of European enlightenment around humans and around civilization and the ways in which the colonial project contradicts those ideals.”

Hampton elaborated on the inherent contradiction in colonial systems and institutions attempting to now include Black and Indigenous people. 

“If we think about the university and all of its wonderful liberal ideals, they can’t apply to Black and Indigenous people or it calls out the whole colonial project, or the whole project of racial capitalism that keeps racial hierarchy in place,” hampton said. “The way the institution of the Canadian university has dealt with that historically is just to leave us out of the picture, to pretend we’re not there because it’s too messy and complicated.”

Hampton also took issue with the idea and terminology of “inclusion” itself. 

“Do we really want to be ‘inclusions’?” hampton said. “Do we want to enter into a university that otherwise is the same old university doing that harm? Do we just want a seat at that table or do we want a profoundly different university? [Instead,] I think that we come in and we do claim space and we do fight for the opportunity to do the work that we want to do, but on the terms that start with us.”

Jadyn Normore, U2 Medicine and Health Sciences and member of the Qalipu First Nation, was one of the student co-moderators of the event. Normore said she left the event feeling empowered and more knowledgeable.

“The conversation that was had over the two-hour event made me realize the amount of microaggression and underrepresentation that occurs at my own university,” Normore said. “It is definitely something that everyone should be thinking and talking about, and this book should be on everyone’s reading list for the near future.”

Student Life

Meals For Milton-Parc adapts action to tightening guidelines

When Sophie Hart, U3 Arts, first developed Meals For Milton-Parc, she focussed on providing food and care packages to unhoused neighbours and highlighting the systemic issue of Indigenous overrepresentation in the unhoused population. Since The McGill Tribune last spoke with Hart in early October, the organization has distributed over 1,000 meals to unhoused Milton-Parc community members along with weekly care packages consisting of sanitary supplies, blankets, tents, and winter clothing.   

Due to the ongoing pandemic, however, the organization has had to constantly adapt to both the Legault Government’s COVID-19 guidelines and the cold weather. Since the drop in temperatures, Meals for Milton-Parc has been operating within local shelters, using their facilities to prepare food for their meal sharing initiative. Because of the surge of COVID-19 cases in the unhoused community since December, the government moved to limit shelters to operate at 20 per cent capacity. In the months since, Meals for Milton-Parc has shifted gears to find new ways to support and advocate for the unhoused community outside of the shelters. 

“Since the outbreak in December, everything has had to change,” Hart said in an interview with the Tribune. “I am so grateful for our incredible volunteers for being so open to the constant changes of our organization and their roles, because there is no way to have a structured plan during COVID-19.”

The initiative is operating with the safety of both their volunteers and the community members they serve in mind. To adjust to the complications of the newly imposed curfew, Meals for Milton-Parc is now handing out care packages three times a week, each containing a $15 gift card, two face masks, and two snacks. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, volunteers walk from Avenue des Pins to Sherbrooke Street, all the way down Parc Avenue, towards the downtown core. Each unhoused community member they come into contact with receives one care package. On these walks, volunteers also check in with community members to ensure that their efforts are best serving their needs. 

“This is super important because in this process we are showing our faces and showing that we care, and in doing this, we are hoping to create bonds and a community between housed neighbors and unhoused neighbors,” Hart said.

Hart also discussed the problems that the 8 p.m. curfew presents for unhoused community members. Instead of operating at their typical winter hours, shelters are now closing earlier and many are no longer offering overnight emergency beds due to the new guidelines. 

This includes The Open Door, a shelter located in the Milton-Parc neighborhood, which is now mandated to close at 9:30 p.m. While the city has made beds for the unhoused community members available in different locations throughout Montreal, including the East End, they are not accessible to the unhoused Milton-Parc community. As a result, many members have elected to sleep outside instead of leaving their neighborhood. John Tessier, an intervention worker at The Open Door, spoke to the Tribune about the city’s ill-designed plan. 

“The problem is that the government has people in offices, with no connections to the people we are serving and who do not know their needs, making the decisions,” Tessier said. “Instead, they should be trusting the people on the ground, the people who are well acquainted with the day to day problems and the needs to make these decisions.”

Since the implementation of these public health regulations, there have been fatal and devastating consequences. On Jan. 16, just hours after The Open Door shelter closed due to public health regulations, Raphael Andre, an Innu unhoused community member, froze to death only a few meters from the shelter. According to Tessier, Andre was the last person out of the shelter everyday for the past week and asked if he could stay overnight on Jan. 16.  

“There are so many different layers to this that are so unacceptable,” Hart said. “There is a lack of dignity and respect for our unhoused population and it needs to change on many levels within our community.” 

After public scrutiny, the government is allowing The Open Door to remain open overnight starting the week of Jan. 25. However, only 25 beds are allowed to be used, even though the shelter has the capacity to fill their 65 beds while remaining COVID-safe. 

To learn more or donate, visit Meals For Milton-Parc’s website.

McGill, News

Tribune Explains: McGill’s procedure for responding to sexual assault

Content warning: This article discusses sexual violence 

Recent events from within the McGill community have sparked conversations about McGill’s existing sexual violence response framework and its efficacy in delivering justice to survivors. The McGill Tribune/looked into how the university’s Policy Against Sexual Violence relates to the Code of Student Conduct and Disciplinary Procedures (the “Code”), and how these policies handle sexual assault allegations. 

What is the difference between a filing disclosure and filing a formal report?

To file a disclosure, a survivor shares an instance of sexual violence with the Office for Sexual Violence Response, Support and Education (OSVRSE). Disclosing does not trigger an investigation, nor does it require the survivor to describe the incident. Filing a disclosure does not automatically make it subject to the Codeit is up to the survivor to choose whether they wish to proceed with this step.

A report refers to a formal account or statement about sexual violence to university authorities, who will then begin a standard process of investigating the allegation.

If a survivor wishes to file a formal report, the Code of Student Conduct and Disciplinary Procedures is used as the disciplinary framework. The disciplinary measures outlined in the Code are only applicable if the survivor elects to file a formal report, not if they only file a disclosure.

What is McGill’s policy for responding to disclosures? 

McGill responds to disclosures filed through OSVRSE, although filing through Security Services or the Sexual Assault Centre of the McGill Students’ Society (SACOMSS) are other possible routes. Upon receiving a disclosure, the university works with the survivor and the appropriate university authorities in the time between disclosing and responding to ensure a safe living and working environment for the survivor. 

The university may also grant reasonable accommodations to the survivor, including exam or assignment deferrals, late withdrawal from a course without a transcript “W,” tuition reimbursements for withdrawn courses, priority access to Counselling Services, or a change in university residence. 

What is McGill’s policy for responding to formal reports?

Reports of sexual violence are filed with a Special Investigator, a McGill-employed,  impartial, trauma-informed person tasked with examining formal reports of sexual violence. The Special Investigator conducts and completes an investigation within 90 days of the date that the report was filed. The survivor always retains the right to not participate in the investigation. There is also no time limit of how long ago an incident happened for reporting an act of sexual violence.  

The survivor reserves the right to contact external legal aid or law enforcement authorities. Survivors can pursue private legal action alongside filing a report at McGill. Upon completing the investigation, the Special Investigator submits a final report to the Provost and gives a copy to the survivor and the respondent. The report will also include recommendations on the measures that should be taken, disciplinary or administrative, to address the report. 

What are the possible consequences and discipline outcomes?

Disciplinary actions will vary according to the nature and severity of the incident. The survivor has the option to express the impact that the sexual violence has had on their life through a written statement that can be submitted to disciplinary authorities. 

If the respondent is a student, disciplinary outcomes as defined in the Code can include an admonishment, a reprimand, limiting or removing campus duties and privileges, suspension, and even expulsion. Additional outcomes, such as education, training, counselling, and supervision, may also accompany the disciplinary measures. Before deciding whether to implement the measures, the university will consult with the survivor. 

What happens in the interim between receiving a report and coming to a resolution?

If a disclosure or report requires that immediate measures be put in place to ensure the safety of the survivor, the university will consult the individual before authorizing measures. Some measures may include voluntary actions agreed on by the respondent, limiting communication between the respondent and the complainant, devising alternate academic, extracurricular, residential or work changes, and temporarily excluding the respondent from campus.

religion, climate
McGill, News

Student groups write open letter concerning Religious Studies professor

Five McGill student organizations—Religious Studies Undergraduate Society (RSUS), Theological Undergraduate’s Student Association (TUSA), Arts Undergraduate Society (AUS), Student’s Society of McGill University (SSMU), and Union for Gender Empowerment (UGE)—have signed an open letter outlining concerns about Douglas B. Farrow, a professor in McGill’s School of Religious Studies (SRS). The letter was spearheaded by RSUS, which said they had been receiving complaints about Professor Farrow’s conduct for years. It states that Farrow repeatedly makes discriminatory comments about 2SLGBTQIA+ communities and calls on the SRS to assign other faculty members to teach three of his courses, which are required for the Bachelor of Theology (B.Th.) program. Furthermore, the letter urges the SRS to remove his work from the William and Henry Birks Building lobby display cases. 

The letter further alleges that much of Farrow’s academic writing reflects discriminatory views and that in supporting and displaying his work the SRS is endorsing those views. It claims that both his class lectures and published work create an exclusionary environment by denying the legitimacy of 2SLGBTQIA+ identities. 

Mo Rajji Courtney, BA ’20 and UGE’s outreach coordinator, wrote in the letter that the UGE has also received a growing number of complaints about Farrow during the past several years, and especially since the McGill Preferred First Names Policy (PFNP) was implemented in 2013.

“Students, particularly queer and trans students, told us that they didn’t feel safe in his classes […] and that it was seriously affecting their mental health,” Rajji Courtney wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune.

The letter mentions students’ frustration with Farrow’s disregard for the PFNP, noting that in the section of Farrow’s RELG 333 syllabus about the policy, he says nobody has to use language that they disagree with. The letter argues he is implying that someone could “disagree” with one’s preferred first name or pronouns.

Brooklyn Frizzle, U2 Arts and SSMU Vice-President University Affairs, believes that homophobic and transphobic conduct should be the concern of all McGill undergraduates.

“It’s more important now than ever for all of us to consider how academic freedom is defined,” Frizzle wrote. “I think it’s also important to remember that concerns over bigotted teachers, whether racist, sexist, homophobic, or transphobic, have always existed [….] It’s only now that these concerns are gaining widespread attention thanks to the tireless efforts of marginalized students.”

Alexander Plant, U3 Theology and TUSA President, says that although professors should be allowed academic freedom, it should not be at the expense of students feeling welcome in the classroom.

“Professors have the right to free speech and to argue whatever academic point they wish,” Plant wrote. “However […], free speech does not mean the freedom to say anything you want. Rather it is the freedom to express one’s ideas and thoughts in a composed and thoughtful manner. It also means allowing opposing views the chance to be heard and responded to with respect.”

Matthew Hawkins, U3 Arts and RSUS VP External, who took one of Farrow’s courses, noticed the behaviour of the Farrow that was highlighted in the letter.

“[Professor Farrow] made it very clear that his opinion on subjects such as trans rights, [2SLGBTQIA+] rights, and reproductive rights, were the correct opinion, not just in a certain academic line of thinking […], but as a deeply held conviction that he expected us to agree with de facto,” Hawkins wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune. “Further, when he voiced those views, it was clear that it was also a statement on how he regarded the students of varying identities within his classroom.”

Professor Garth Green, director of the School of Religious Studies, will soon talk to representatives of the student societies involved and colleagues in the administration.

“The School, no less than the Faculty and the university as such, takes this open letter, and the charges within it, very seriously indeed,” Green wrote in an email to The McGill Tribune. “Just as it takes its responsibility to cultivate [a] continually safe and respectful and challenging and rewarding learning environment for all of its students [seriously].”

Art, Arts & Entertainment, Internet

MMFA’s ‘Survivance’ lives on through virtual exhibition

While we run out of Netflix shows to binge, the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (MMFA) offers us a new source of virtual entertainment: Art exhibits. Of the five very different exhibitions currently available, ranging from Riopelle ‘s landscapes to Signac’s pointillism paintings, Manuel Mathieu’s seemingly expressionist Survivance installation is not to be missed. The Haitian-born Montreal artist’s approach to art stands out, expressing emotions through vibrant abstractness, made even more visible through the new medium of the virtual exhibit. 

The MMFA’s virtual experience allows the viewer to discover the exhibits as if one was pacing the museum, walking from one gallery to the next. The platform’s features are easy to manage, though there are some technical glitches, such as audio tracks appearing in front of paintings. Patience is required when moving one’s cursor to observe each painting through different angles. Yet, there is considerable effort by the MMFA to incorporate visual and auditory details in order to recreate an in-person museum experience that would otherwise be lost to the viewer on an online platform. 

Survivance is shown as it is displayed in the gallery, allowing viewers to zoom in to see the details of the paintings up close. The audio recording gives descriptions of the artwork and insight into Mathieu’s thought process. Though one may still miss the sensation of strolling in the museum, the virtual counterpart immerses visitors with features that are only accessible through our computers.

Mathieu’s exhibition displays 20 paintings presented in Canada for the first time with a special installation created for the MMFA. Mathieu’s paintings at first appear as an abstract mix of colors that lack shape or sense. The audio features here are practical, describing Mathieu’s thoughts and interpretation of his painting, giving the audience a new perspective to the piece. 

Survivance focusses on pivotal moments of Mathieu’s life. After surviving a major motor vehicle accident in 2015, he pushed himself to make his art more important and impactful. Mathieu depicts this incident and his recovery in Rempart 2018. On the canvas, it is difficult to discern any shape from the juxtaposed strips of colors, leaving it up to interpretation. The upper part of the painting is covered with stacked rectangles, giving the illusion of a wall, which, Mathieu describes in the voiceover, represents his grandmother, who supported him after the accident. Nonetheless, as the artist represents his own memories and emotions in a vivid chaos, it lets the audience associate with art through their personal recollections. 

The imposing structure, Ouroboros 2020, is still quite impressive, even through a screen. Large white canvases are aligned one layer after the other, burnt in the center to create a void. The work consists of a play between appearance and disappearance, how one moment can be ephemeral and disappear. Mathieu gives an importance to his art, a role in his life as well as to its public. This installation allows viewers to look at it through various angles, where the sculptures take different forms and shapes to change one’s perspective of the art. These details create a homogeneity ruptured by the burnt centers which represent infinity and life. 

As we live through the pandemic, MMFA’s virtual tours provide a limited escape: It only works if visitors ignore that they are once again in front of their screens. Yet, Survivance expresses emotions and memories by demonstrating the transcendent power of art, and how these tumultuous times could later be portrayed by artists.

McGill, News

Divest McGill holds workshop on climate justice and divestment

Divest McGill held a virtual workshop titled “Divest 101” on Jan. 20 to educate students about divestment and encourage them to take action. Two representatives of Divest McGill, Zahur Ashrafuzzaman, U1 Arts & Science, and Millie Murray, U1 Arts, led the presentation by outlining the ethical, social, and financial incentives for divestment from the fossil fuel industry.

Ashrafuzzaman and Murray began the workshop with a land acknowledgment that explained the ties between Indigenous communities and climate justice. 

“Climate change is something that disproportionately affects people of marginalized communities, Indigenous communities, and the global South,” Murray said.

Ashrafuzzaman said that Divest McGill believes institutions need to separate themselves from fossil fuel companies due to the irreversible damage that steadily rising land and sea temperatures cause the Earth. 

“We can only afford to burn about 200 gigatons of carbon to stay below 1.5 degrees Celsius of warming,” Ashrafuzzaman said. “Or, about 560 [gigatons] to stay below two degrees, which, at this point, is what most scientists are shooting for.”

Murray claims that fossil fuel companies have skirted government regulations for decades due to the industry’s grip on governments’ and regulatory bodies’ finances.

“The fossil fuel industry […] is one of, if not the most, powerful institutions that exist today,” Murray said. “Fossil fuel companies have the influence and power and money to essentially tell our democratic institutions what to do and what not to do. A great example of that is that Exxon, […] one of the largest petrol companies, […] knew about climate change as early as [the] 1970s and paid to cover it up and essentially pushed back climate science and our ability to counter climate change […] because it would negatively affect their ability to be profitable.”

Ashrafuzzaman explained that divestment is also a powerful statement because it has historically been a way to stand in solidarity with Black communities. Divestment movements have their foundation in the anti-Apartheid activism of the 1970s, when Black organizers boycotted Polaroid for selling technology to the South African government that was used to implement the racist Pass Laws, an ID system used to oppress Black South Africans.

In addition to the many ethical reasons for divestment, Murray believes that it is actually a logical financial decision for universities to make.

“Fossil fuel prices have been dropping, with COVID-19 only accelerating that, and recently the University of California has […] committed to divest for purely financial reasons,” Murray said. 

Divest believes that by pulling out of fossil fuel investments—which make up at least seven to eight per cent of the university’s endowmentMcGill could send a strong message to fossil fuel companies that it will not tolerate harming the planet and thereby worsen social inequities. 

“By divesting, we are telling the fossil fuel industry that what they are doing is not okay, and we’re not going to allow them to continue doing it,” Murray said.

In spite of the McGill Senate voting to support divestment in 2018, the Board of Governors (BoG) subsequently decided to uphold the investments. Following this decision, Divest McGill protested against BoG’s decision and spread awareness of the situation. 

“It’s not [the BoG’s] mandate, but in effect, having so many corporate members on the highest board […] with only two faculty allies [and] only two voting students, [the BoG is] not democratic,” Ashrafuzzaman said.

Divest McGill is currently focussed on boycotting the grocery store chain Metro Inc., which BoG Vice-Chair Maryse Bertrand has personal investments in. The group is also working to increase student representation on the BoG and planning in-person action as public health authorities permit. 

McGill student Evelyn Morehead, U2 Science, attended the event to learn how to channel her outrage into action.

“I only recently found out about McGill’s investment in fossil fuels,” Morehead said. “This really angered me, so I wanted to attend this workshop to learn more about the work being done to divest and learn how I can help make positive change.”

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