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Student Life

Zoom style guide: Be the best-dressed student in your online lecture

So much has changed over the course of the Winter 2020 semester. Many of McGill’s traditions, such as convocation and end-of-year formals, have been postponed or cancelled. Many students—particularly those who are graduating—have spent weeks or even months getting ready for these fancy occasions. However, while they are no longer able to get all dolled up to take part in these celebrations, there are still ways to show off one’s most stylish self this semester. To help cope with the loss of in-person celebrations, The McGill Tribune has compiled a list of recommended outfits that students can wear for their Zoom lectures so that they can be the best dressed in their online class. 

The casual look

Everyone has that sweats and stained t-shirt combo that they can’t imagine their life without. While they might not wear it to school everyday, those clothes are the first thing that students put on when they get home. We cook in them, we watch Netflix in them, we sleep in them, and, most importantly, we love them. Sport this look to be as casual as you can in your online lecture and show off that cozy-cute vibe.

Full cap and gown

Show your fellow McGill classmates that you can still throw yourself a party, even if you might not be able to celebrate on campus like you had hoped. This is a great outfit choice as it also allows you to flex on your lower-year classmates who still have many more lectures to attend, on Zoom or otherwise, before they can cross that finish line. This fit is restricted to graduating students only; it’s a complete faux-pas for anyone else to steal this look.

Swimwear

While there are many downsides to being asked to self-isolate at home, being able to tan during class doesn’t have to be one of them. Whether you’re in zero- or 20-degree weather, bring a towel, chair, and laptop outside, break out that swim gear, and get some sun. Your classmates will be in awe of your courage, resilience, and sick tan lines. Bonus points if you add a snorkel to the outfit.

Formal attire

Alright, so you didn’t get to wear that gown or tux to the end-of-year formal. Now’s your time. Getting dressed up and forgetting all of the stress of what’s going on around you is one of life’s greatest coping mechanisms, so go all out. Actually wash and style your hair for the first time since the mayhem began. Do your nails. Wear your nice shoes. You know what they say: When you look good, you feel good so look like a baddie and get that 4.0. 

Your favourite TV show character

You’ve got some time on your hands, so you might as well assemble an ensemble that your favourite TV show or movie character would wear. Think Sharpay by the pool in High School Musical 2 or Dwight from The Office working on the beet farm. This outfit works really well for psychological reasons: Your classmates and professor will recognize you, but they might not know exactly why. For this reason, they will spend a lot of time staring at your screen, so you can feel like you’re getting a lot of attention. Enjoy your time in the spotlight, sweetie! 

Chef attire

Yeah, you can cook. Or maybe not. No one really has to know. This outfit says: “Just got back from cooking a three-course meal, what have you guys been doing?” People will be intrigued, they will be amazed, and they might even be proud. With this outfit, one thing you’re sure to cook up are some good grades. 

Whatever you choose to wear, wear it with a smile. Also, be sure to remember not to stand up in front of your computer unless you’re 100 per cent sure that you’re wearing pants. 

Art, Arts & Entertainment, Music

Supporting the Montreal arts community during the pandemic

Montreal is inseparable from its arts scene: From small, packed music venues to student art exhibitions and comedy shows, this seemingly enclosed community plays an important role in the city’s culture. So what happens when, within a matter of days, venues close, tours and festivals are cancelled or postponed, and everyone must stay indoors? Montreal-based creatives are now grappling with these strange and unprecedented circumstances and turning to each other for support.

“I watched the music industry dissolve in, like, three days,” Malaika Astorga, a visual artist and co-founder of Also Cool Mag, said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “The sole source of income for so many people is just gone.”

Though she was temporarily laid off from her nine-to-five, Astorga has been able to earn a sustainable income doing freelance work during her time in quarantine. However, like many artists, she is concerned about financial instability.

“I feel like I’m trying to make the best of it by focusing more on my creative work, […] but, at the end of the day, you know, I still need to pay my hydro,” Astorga said.

Like many in Montreal’s creative scene, Astorga is worried that venues won’t be able to reopen once the pandemic is over. Though there are efforts to crowdfund relief aid, she says it might not be enough. 

“I’m concerned about long term support for those kinds of businesses because they’re not seen as essential businesses by the government, even though […] we’re seeing that [people] need entertainment,” Astorga said. “It’s what’s getting all of us through this thing.”

Like Astorga, third-year McGill student Gloria-Sherryl François (Glowzi), a multidisciplinary artist and DJ, has concerns for fellow artists in the music industry. Since entering the professional circuit, she has realized how much long-term planning is involved in making events happen—often as much as a year. Now that the pandemic has forced everything to a screeching halt, she is questioning the validity of the structures that are currently in place. 

“If there’s one thing that this pandemic is showing, it’s that [I’m wondering], well, was this system ever made to work?” François said. 

François also noted that many artists now lack access to the resources they need to create due to self-isolation and the closing of non-essential businesses. But she added that the blow to morale has been offset by increased community support within the creative world. 

I feel like that’s something that was kind of lost after the 80’s and 70’s, where people would just systematically collaborate with each other,” François said. “It was more about […] all these amazing people just coming together and making place for other folks who were not as under the spotlight as them.” 

For Pelin Karaaslan, a painter from Istanbul, her biggest concern is visibility as the events, exhibitions, and pop-up shops she would normally attend have been cancelled.

She cannot access the studio she recently began renting, which she had been visiting everyday before the pandemic to work—her and her studio-mates asked for a rent freeze without success. Luckily, Karaaslan has still been able to paint and focus on her commissions during quarantine, since she has access to  those materials at home.

“I paint everyday and I realize that this sounds cheesy, but really if I have paint supplies, it’s going to be fine,” Karaaslan said. “I’m just painting a lot. I’m trying to […] keep doing what I Iove.” 

If there’s a time to say “thank you” to creatives and venues, it’s now. Astorga explained that the best way to help artists is through GoFundMe pages and PayPals. Also Cool Mag created an artist fund to raise money for artists who sign up. So far, the fund has helped three artists; each received $250. 

Supporting artists by purchasing their artwork, music, or merchandise is another way to help financially. After that, the next best thing to is sharing their work on social media. 

Despite the darkness of the situation, Astorga sees the brighter side of all the community efforts. 

“Maybe it took something like this for us to realize how much we can actually support each other,” Astorga said. “Hopefully there will be more helpful, and empathetic, and […] loving structures in place after this is done, because we’re seeing that they’re essential to our well-being.” 

Artist info:

Malaika Astorga: 

Instagram: @flloral_art

Website: www.malaikaastorga.com

Also Cool Mag:

Glowzi:

Instagram: @glowzi

Website: glowzi.design 

Pelin Karaaslan:

Instagram: @pelinkaraas

Website: pelin.studio

Montreal Venue Relief Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/pzes5-montreal-covid19-venue-staff-relief-fund 

Also Cool Mag Artist Fund: https://www.gofundme.com/f/also-cool-artist-fund?utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer&utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet&fbclid=IwAR3RCMrnxDG0hjzuBp0Nnrv4TirikwQOh4LeBEmKu-F2prnFUjQI9VO49Nc 

Ask a Scientist, Science & Technology

COVID-19 prompts rise in digital health services

The COVID-19 pandemic sweeping the globe is drastically changing the ways in which people approach work, play, education, and, of course, healthcare. In light of the outbreak, routine checkups have begun to shift online to relieve overcrowded hospitals and reduce opportunities for infection. This style of remote healthcaretermed telehealth or telemedicineaims to provide care to patients at a distance. 

Dr. Antonia Arnaert, a professor in McGill’s Ingram School of Nursing, described telehealth as a specific service of remote healthcare. 

“The larger term that we are using now is digital health,” Arnaert said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “Telehealth, telemedicine, or mobile health are all components of digital health.” 

Digital health describes services that use technology to deliver healthcare, including data analytics, artificial intelligence, virtual reality, and networks of interconnected sensors and mobile technologies called the ‘Internet of Things’ (IoT).

Telehealth operates through various channels. Services can be delivered through video conferencing sessions, allowing the healthcare practitioner at the other end of the call to diagnose the patient’s condition in real time. Patients can also upload photos and other media for doctors to examine. Arnaert explained that patients’ digital data that do not require immediate attention are stored in a process called ‘store-and-forward.’ These data can then be retrieved at a more convenient time for busy healthcare providers, many of whom have become even busier with the COVID-19 pandemic.

Telemonitoring is a subset of telehealth that applies specifically to patients with chronic conditions and those recovering from surgery. Using body sensors and IoT networks, telemonitoring allows health professionals to remotely track and review patients’ vital signs.

By making distance and mobility non-factors, telehealth provides essential services to those who would otherwise struggle to access conventional healthcare. However, bringing telehealth into the mainstream is easier said than done, as both technical and human obstacles stand in the way of widespread adoption. The first major challenge is a lack of technical infrastructure that can facilitate the flow of information between patients, medical professionals, and hospitals. Much of the data in Quebec hospitals are still paper-based, and where electronic systems do exist, the ability of separate digital networks to effectively exchange data, termed interoperability, is still very low. 

“The many challenges regarding interoperability […] makes it quite difficult for healthcare providers to become excited [about telehealth],” Arnaert said. 

These primitive methods of data storage impede the development of telehealth services, as they rely on the abilities of digital systems to take in and process patient data on one end and transmit doctors’ orders back to patients on the other. 

Other challenges of implementing telehealth lie in the realm of human resources. Providing reliable healthcare online requires an army of IT technicians to maintain network infrastructures and ensure that Internet connections are stable, servers are not overloaded, and data uploaded to cloud storage centres are secure and encrypted. As for the healthcare professionals themselves, they must be trained on using telehealth technologies. 

The COVID-19 pandemic will provide a significant incentive to start shifting telehealth into the  mainstream of healthcare. To ensure that the next generation of doctors and nurses are well equipped to provide telehealth services, Arnaert suggested that this type of training be integrated into medical education and at workplaces. 

“The pandemic will speed up things from a healthcare perspective and help make changes,” Arnaert said.  

Arnaert compared this trend in telehealth to the similar rise in e-learning brought about by school closures, in that the technology has always been available. The COVID-19 outbreak demonstrates the pressing need for such infrastructures, accelerating the incorporation of the online platform alongside conventional methods of providing education and healthcare. In the long term, the benefits from these digital tools may well outlast the outbreak itself.

Commentary, Opinion

COVID-19 and domestic abuse: Why Canadians need to isolate now, rather than later

On March 18, 2020, McGill students everywhere opened their inboxes to discover that McGill would be shutting down due to the COVID-19 pandemic, with classes for the remainder of the Winter and Summer terms being taught remotely. Canada is now in a state of lockdown due to a government-mandated quarantine. The COVID-19 virus has spread rapidly, with approximately 6,320 cases reported across the country as of press time. With a litany of businesses, schools, and workplaces shut down, many people find themselves confined within their homes, unable to leave due to social distancing  measures. This situation is particularly alarming for survivors of domestic abuse, who may find themselves trapped with their abuser and isolated from their friends and family. Refusing to self-isolate does more than just spread the virus: It may also prolong the length of time that survivors are forced to spend with their abuser in quarantine. Quarantine and social distancing policies set by the government must be taken seriously: It is during such extreme circumstances as a pandemic that Canadians must consider the needs and vulnerabilities of others above their own. 

The quarantine has forced many people to work from home or lose their jobs altogether. These potential financial losses strips domestic abuse survivors of the independence and resources that they might use to protect themselves and their loved ones from an abuser. A lack of financial independence further increases the abusers’ control, making it harder for survivors to leave. Many people will continue to remain out of work until the pandemic is under control, which can, in part, be helped by social distancing, until then, many survivors will be faced with co-inhabiting with their oppressors. 

Government-mandated isolation also forces abuse victims to be isolated from their support systems and loved ones. Often, survivors find respite in workplaces and at school, as they provide a physical distance from the abuser. Additionally, educational institutions and places of work can offer survivors social support. These environments provide a measure of control that the victim does not have at home. The COVID-19 outbreak has resulted in many shelters for domestic violence victims becoming overwhelmed, many women will be forced to remain in crowded shelters to care for their children, putting them at a higher risk for contracting the virus. With the shelters reaching full capacity and facing the trials and tribulations the virus brings, some women may find themselves unable to seek refuge from their abuser at these shelters. These shelters will continue to be overwhelmed until the virus is under control and the curve is flattened, prospects that heavily depend on how strictly individuals choose to practice social distancing. 

Although many shelters in Canada have turned to online and phone support for women in crisis situations, many have ceased physical measures of support. As healthcare systems nationwide become overwhelmed in response to the COVID-19 outbreak, survivors are faced with delays and a lack of healthcare resources as the pandemic is prioritized, making the situation more dangerous and difficult. Until the pandemic is contained, the healthcare systems will continue to be overwhelmed, making it difficult for survivors to seek adequate care and support, further exemplifying why people choosing to socially distance and self-quarantine is crucial to help contain the virus to alleviate the burden on the health care systems. 

During a pandemic, it is important to understand that social distancing and isolation prevent the spread of  disease, but also to shorten these measures. As members of the Montreal community, McGill students have a responsibility to practice social distancing, meaning that opting to quarantine with several friends and hopping from apartment to apartment must cease.  Refusing to isolate out of resistance to giving up “everyday life” prolongs the pandemic and in turn, heightens situations of domestic violence for others, because as long as the virus continues to spread, Canadians will continue to be forced to remain indoors.   

Student Life

The moral dilemma with restaurants during the COVID-19 pandemic

The COVID-19 pandemic has severely impacted businesses around the world. Self-isolation and social distancing have affected restaurants in particular, as they must choose between two equally worrying options: They could close completely, leaving their employees without a steady paycheque while the owners continue to pay rent and other overhead fees without any revenue; or, they can stay open for delivery and takeout only, providing a source of revenue to keep staff on the payroll but potentially putting both the staff and customers at risk of spreading the virus. Furthermore, even if restaurants stay open, it is unlikely they will generate enough revenue to remain profitable.  A survey done in March by Restaurants Canada found that nearly 80 per cent of restaurant owners experienced lower sales in early March of this year compared to last year. As the service industry experiences a huge downturn, McGill students will also be affected by this calamity as 24 per cent of those employed in the restaurant industry are aged 20–24.

The restaurant industry is highly vulnerable to this type of crisis. Food services cannot emulate the financial sector by moving to a work-from-home model, nor can they be kept open at full capacity, like the construction business. Even in normal economic environments, restaurants routinely struggle to keep their doors open due to increasing food, rent, and labour costs. The loss of business from COVID-19 could push many restaurants to close permanently.

McGill students are going to experience these struggles first-hand in their capacity as both employees and customers. Places such as Foodchain in downtown Montreal have made the decision to stay open despite the inherent health risks. Despite their business model, which has always been oriented toward delivery and takeout, Foodchain has experienced a staggering loss in sales. Adding to this issue is the fact that the majority of their sales now go through delivery platforms, such as Foodora, UberEats, and DoorDash, which charge restaurants service fees. These two factors have led to a 84 per cent decrease in the number of hours available for the staff. 

The troubles extend beyond the economic woes caused by this crisis, as many workers are uncomfortable working due to the possibility of exposure to SARS-CoV-2 from coworkers, customers, or third-party delivery people. The risk of commuting via public transportation adds an extra layer of anxiety for workers. Some McGill students do not have the privilege of choosing not to work, as they depend on their wages to pay for their basic needs.  This also means that massive layoffs, stemming from the staggering loss of business, will result in many McGill students losing an essential source of income.

Many restaurants on and around campus, including well-known establishments like Dispatch Cafe and Humble Lion, are experiencing the same conundrum. Some of Montreal’s most popular full-service restaurants, such as Campo, Kinton Ramen, and Mandy’s, have opted to stay open, but transition to delivery and take-out based models. 

For restaurants and students alike, there is no easy path forward. One thing that the McGill community can do during this difficult time is be sympathetic to restaurants and fully understand their decisions, whether they be to close indefinitely or stay open. Furthermore, it is important that McGill students appreciate the integral role that employees, many of whom are peers, play in this current crisis, given the risks that they take. 

Off the Board, Opinion

The glory of the classical music comments sections

Given that the entire world is currently socially distancing at home, many people have suddenly found themselves spending all of their time on the internet—so much so that YouTube has recently set the default streaming quality for all videos globally to standard definition to prevent its servers from being overwhelmed. Since being legally mandated to stay home, one of my new hobbies has been deep-diving into the niche parts of YouTube. One of my favourite finds is this Australian man’s cheese review channel, where his comments sections are filled with Italians telling this kind soul to go fuck himself.

Comments sections, especially on YouTube, provide a marvellous cross-section of a particular internet community. However, I believe that I have found some of the most chaotic commenters on the entire internet under videos of classical music. While incredibly funny to read, discourse about performances of art music actually demonstrates how toxicity online sometimes manifests.

“If this does not invigorate you then you should be buried four to six feet under,” YouTube user Duke Moose wrote in a comment on a video of scrolling sheet music.  

Classical music videos by no means have the most toxic comment sections on YouTube. However, for some reason, these comments stand out in their emotional intensity, which is what seemingly drove Moose to post a death threat under a video of pages flipping. Yet by no means are all  these comments so violent; there are some people that just really want others to know that they find deep meaning in classical music.

“It feels so bittersweet to me, yes it’s happy but it emits a strange kind of sadness in it. I imagine people dancing after a war, or even during one,” comments Jayce D’rick on a video of Dutch violinist André Rieu. “Or where people break down in deranged laughter; it feels like a release. Am I the only one?”

Joining the oblique violence states from users like Moose, and purple prose from users like D’rick, are a third class of comments, where users offer their honest (and sometimes downright mean) critiques.

“Sounds kind of bland, very little overtones that might be the recording though,” user vanidar21 comments on a video of a choral group performing a piece by Bach. “They clearly should have studied the german longer.”

Ever since my brother, a professional violist, turned me towards these comments, I have been absolutely fascinated by how awe-inspiringly awkward they all seem to be. Reading these comment sections is like watching a horrible car crash: I cannot look away, no matter how bad they get. But exactly how these comments got so cringey is still something that confuses me, though I do have a couple ideas. 

First, like with many perplexing internet phenomena, we can blame adults from Gen-X. Audience Finder, a free database made up of ticket sales and surveys for cultural events, found that 42 per cent of the audience for classical music concerts are between the ages of 41 and 60. While this makes the average listener older than the typical YouTube user, they are still young enough to know how to use YouTube: According to data pulled from Omnicore, a health marketing research company, the 33+ age group are the fastest growing demographic on YouTube.

Second, YouTube is infamous for its vocal and frequently toxic commenters. The University of Zurich attributes this partially to YouTube’s lack of anonymity: on YouTube, users frequently use their Google accounts as they browse, meaning that their real names are attached to these comments. Contrary to popular belief, this lack of anonymity makes people more prone to aggression online. This, combined with the prevalence of older adults who may be less-than-savvy at understanding social dynamics online, could be leading to a breeding ground for inappropriate comments.

Finally, perhaps the biggest reason why these comments are so frequently awkward and toxic is that the classical music industry itself is awkward and toxic. The industry is built on a strict hierarchy, where conductors and artistic directors—often old white men—are placed in positions of power over young performers. James Levine, a former conductor of the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City, was fired in March 2018 after over 70 interviews with current and former artists corroborates accusations against him for sexual violence; the Vienna Philharmonic did not allow women to be hired until 1997, and still faces accusations of not allowing people of colour into the group. If toxicity like this is rampant in the subject matter of these videos on YouTube, it makes sense that some of it would trickle down into the comments as well.

Given that many are currently holed up in their homes looking for distractions, now is a good time to start a new hobby. Does your hobby have to be laughing at people who are just trying to have a good time on YouTube? Absolutely not! But, I believe that exploring random communities online is an interesting way of seeing how the internet can bring people together in odd and unexpected ways; perhaps a scroll through some classical music videos will prove as interesting to others as it does to me. That being said, be sure to also look for artists, like Du Yun and Julius Eastman, who challenge the industry itself to be better. Whether one’s choice of niche is classical music or not, the isolation that social distancing brings is an excellent excuse to take some time to explore other parts of the internet that you can feel a part of—or chuckle at from a distance.

Science & Technology

Thorium could refuel the future of nuclear energy

Despite being named after the Norse god of thunder, thorium does not come from the sky; rather, it is naturally occurring in the Earth’s crust. Discovered in 1828, thorium is a slightly radioactive metal that is a promising nuclear fuel alternative to uranium. However, the use of thorium as a primary energy source remains challenging, as it would require investments and research that many countries are not willing to funnel into nuclear energy.

While nuclear energy has lower carbon emissions than fossil fuels, it carries a stigma. Nuclear disasters such as Chernobyl, Fukushima, and Three Mile Island have left many feeling unsure about the safety of nuclear energy. 

“The use of nuclear energy is an entirely political and sociological issue,” Dominic Ryan, a professor in McGill’s Department of Physics, said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “It can be done, but society has to accept it. Getting this to happen is much more difficult and is not a technical issue.” 

The airline industry used to have similar safety concerns, but has since evolved to mitigate such issues. According to Ryan, nuclear energy is not keeping up with the public’s need for higher safety precautions.

“Nuclear energy got kind of stuck,” Ryan said. “Most reactors were built in the ‘60s or the ‘70s. Would you get on an Air Canada flight from 1965? No, because a lot has happened since then. You have to build things to figure out how to build better.” 

Still, it is possible for nuclear energy to evolve. The industry’s next step could involve using thorium in nuclear reactors instead of uranium. For one, thorium is about three times more abundant than uranium, although this is only an estimate.

“One of the issues with using thorium is [that] we do not know the quantity of its availability on Earth, [and] we also do not know the quality of the reserve,” Ryan said. 

This issue derives from a lack of research into nuclear energy and thorium in particular. The Cold War and the race to develop nuclear weapons fuelled uranium research, and decades later, investment into thorium research has remained comparatively low. A lack of research funding, however, cannot hide the fact that thorium is both safer and more efficient than uranium, according to experts like Charles Gale, a professor in McGill’s Department of Physics.

“Thorium reactors are indeed designed to be much safer than [those] based on uranium,” Gale said. “The original designs of uranium reactors were not done to optimize energy production.” 

In addition, thorium reactors produce less waste, and this waste is less radioactive. Unlike uranium, thorium produces little to no plutonium, an element used to make nuclear weapons. Further, thorium atoms do not split on their own, so thorium reactions can be stopped if necessary, while uranium reactions cannot.

“You cannot use thorium directly,” Ryan said. “It is not [as] efficient on its own. So, you need to take thorium and […] mix it [to produce neutrons]. The point with thorium is you have a different fuel cycle, and [one runs] it through a reactor to mix it.” 

Overall, Ryan is a proponent of nuclear power, especially using thorium. 

“It is clean, and there is lots of it available, so it can provide a stable source of power,” Ryan said. “Whether or not to deploy it on a large scale is a political issue.” 

While thorium reactors could change the energy game, the public stigma around nuclear energy remains. Without public support and industry dollars, nuclear energy will likely remain stuck in the past.

Editorial, Opinion

COVID-19 threatens McGill students’ financial security

As a result of COVID-19, Quebec Premier François Legault has mandated that non-essential businesses and services shut down until at least April 13, leaving many McGill students without work. The cancellation of student internships and entry level jobs have left self-supported students without an income to pay for their tuition, rent, and groceries. Due to their inability to make a living wage and pay for housing, many students will likely need to drop out of McGill if loans and financial aid cannot cover their tuition fees. The McGill administration must take students’ financial crises into consideration in the coming months and develop strategies to accomodate students struggling financially during, and after this pandemic.

The economic crisis that has accompanied the COVID-19 pandemic will continue to negatively impact the McGill community. In Canada, employment insurance claims have already reached nearly 1 million, and experts are anticipating a recession that could surpass that of 2009. Not only will many students not be able to pay rent and tuition, but even more will have to deal with the stress of family members being laid off. In a tighter financial climate, companies and organizations may be less willing to fund graduate research in an effort to save money putting both graduate students and their supervisors in a financially difficult position.It is also not a burden borne equally: Asian businesses were the first to suffer, even before the pandemic directly affected North America, as a result of discriminatory attitudes and racist fears from customers.

The federal and provincial governments have taken steps to support those in financial crisis. Canadian residents who make over $5000 a year are eligible for financial support under the Canada Emergency Response Benefit Act. However, not all international students will be eligible to receive aid, considering some may not have worked extensively enough to earn $5000 over the last year while also completing their degree. The McGill administration should clarify these rules and processes to McGill students. While McGill has been sending out daily updates regarding campus closure and course work, they have yet to acknowledge the economic challenges that students are facing. The university must provide more updates on what these obstacles are and what McGill will be doing to support students who are struggling financially.

As a small measure to assist students during this time, the administration has waived interest and late payment fees. Moreover, following the cancellation of several internships, the Arts Internship Office extended the application deadline for the Arts Undergraduate Research Internship Awards (ARIA). However, while research remains an option for some students to replace summer internships or work, it may also be difficult for students to find professors who are willing to work in conjunction with them while campus is closed. 

McGill is also offering emergency funding to students with immediate financial need. However, with so many students out of work, the university will need to find more ways to either reduce tuition fees or increase financial aid. The administration could also consider delaying due dates for tuition fees.

While the Quebec rental board has suspended eviction hearings, students have been called to take part in a rent strike in solidarity with all Montrealers who cannot pay rent at this time. McGill’s now-empty residence buildings could be offered as subsidized housing to students who can no longer pay rent during the summer, once social distancing recommendations allow for it. 

Students who are struggling financially should contact the McGill Scholarships and Student Aid Office for more information and financial assistance. Moreover, students should continue to reach out to friends and peers for support during this emotionally draining time. To help prevent the spread of COVID-19, students must also continue to practice social distancing and washing their hands; preventing the spread of the disease will mitigate the effects of the coming recession, dampening financial consequences for the most drastically affected.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

When this is all over, let’s go to the movies

“We have corn!” said Ethan Everly, U3 Mechanical Engineering and president of Peel Street Cinema as he listed some of the allures of the group’s live movie screenings.

Popcorn is just one element of a movie theatre’s ambience. Of course, it can be made in the comfort of an apartment, but the joy of eating a bag of movie-theatre kernels is not quite matched by shovelling Orville Redenbacher’s into one’s mouth alone in a bedroom.

When opting to forgo the experience of a “live” movie screening for a more solitary experience, other pleasures are lost. Movie theatres provide richer social and aesthetic experiences than those offered by watching films alone, on a laptop or a small TV screen. 

“I think when you go watch a movie on a big screen […] in a theatre, there’s a certain ambience to it that you don’t get when you’re at home,” Everly said. “It’s nice to have a separate space where you can relax, turn off your brain, and not think about the outside world.”

For the introverted film lover, taking a trip across town and sitting next to a group of strangers might not be the most enticing proposition, but the benefits of this experience far outway its cons.

“It’s nice to watch movies with other people and to laugh together, even if they’re strangers,” Everly said. “It just makes the movie better. It’s like watching a funny YouTube video. Obviously it’s going to be better if you have people to share that laughter with.”

Peel Street Cinema is a McGill club that hosts weekly film screenings and discussions. These free events take place at 3475 rue Peel, and students are encouraged to attend and discuss the wide selection of films. Recent screenings include Eve’s Bayou; Paris, Texas; and Pleasantville

Students seem eager to attend. Everly and Charlie Mascia, U2, Arts, VP internal of Peel Street Cinema, noted how much the club has grown in the past few months.

“We probably had about 25, 30 people coming to screenings this semester on a slow week, [and a] slow week last year would’ve been like 4 or 5,” Mascia said. “Often people who aren’t in their first year will come to a screening and say, ‘I can’t believe I didn’t know about this before!’”

This lack of awareness seems to be a common thread of screenings: There are plenty of opportunities for McGill students to visit these spaces, but students often don’t know or take advantage of them.

“I think people want to be immersed in some sort of film culture, but they don’t quite know how, even though it’s all around them,” Ara Osterweil, Associate Professor of World Cinema and Cultural Studies at McGill University, said. “Going to movies is a way of being a part of a conversation. A lot of students will come to my office and say ‘We want to be filmmakers!’ But when I ask them where they go to the movies or what their film culture is, they don’t really have an answer.” 

Spaces like Peel Street Cinema, which offer affordable and diverse programming, have seen their attendance drop in recent years. Despite being a classic and widely beloved tradition, movie theatre attendance as a whole has fallen as well.

The numbers tell a complicated story. Since 1980, ticket sales increased in North America, peaking at 1.56 billion sold continent-wide in 2002. Since then, sales have dropped, despite a steady increase in box office revenue..  

“It’s expensive to see a movie these days,” Everly said. “Theatres really aren’t accessible if you have to pay 20-plus dollars for a ticket and popcorn. I feel like Cineplex has become increasingly expensive. Cinema du Parc is really great, though.”

Cinema du Parc, located in the Galeries du Parc mall at the corner of Parc and Prince Arthur, offers a student rate of $9.75 for McGill and Concordia students and a $5 rate for everyone on the last day of a film’s run. The theatre’s catalog emphasizes independent movies and presents a variety of foreign films as well. The fresh programming and low prices have made Cinema du Parc a staple of film fans in the McGill community for decades.

“It really is right in the [Milton-Parc neighbourhood] and has great programming, often in English,” Osterweil said. “It even has that great seven-pass movie card. I don’t know if students take advantage of it. I like to bring them there, but I don’t know how much they go on their own. I hope they do.” 

For the McGill movie buff, the pursuit of a like-minded community can be a challenging one. Cultural studies, the largest film-oriented program at McGill, seats only 85 students in its introductory course, ENGL 275, while Psychology seats 650 in PSYC 100. The constraints of classroom discussion make spaces like Cinema du Parc and Peel Street Cinema crucial to allowing these students to feel part of a film community.

“I think McGill students would benefit a lot from going to movies,” Osterweil said. “There seems to be a tendency for McGill students to just go from their apartment […] to campus and rarely get out into the greater Montreal area. When I take students to Cinema Moderne, they’re so happy to be there. And I’m glad to expose them to it, but I feel like if they went more often, they wouldn’t feel so confined. They’d also feel like they were participating in the cultural life of Montreal.” 

Beyond the social and cultural benefits of movie theatres, there is also an aesthetic benefit to watching a film on a big screen. Aude Renaud-Lorrain, interim director of Cinema Moderne, an independent theatre in the Mile-End, highlights the technological capacity of the theatre, especially when compared with the usual student set-up.

“Better quality is a great reason to go to a cinema, especially for students who likely won’t have the equipment for a home theatre,” Renaud-Lorrain said. “Instead they’ll have their phone or their laptop, which really isn’t the same experience. Cinema Moderne is very equipped in terms of technology […] I think that people realize that if you’re really looking forward to seeing a film, you want to enjoy it in a cinema where the quality of the sound and the image will be really strong.”

Indeed, films that rely heavily on experimental visual elements cannot be fully appreciated if viewed on small devices with headphones. Furthermore, films with difficult plots and unique characteristics demand to be discussed and debated after the fact. It’s hard to do that seriously alone in an apartment. Thankfully, Cinema Moderne tries to provide space for those discussions to happen.

“We have this small, intimate theatre, but we also have the café-bar where people can have a drink, and where conversation can continue after films. That’s really an important part of our identity,” Renaud-Lorrain said.

At a university where the creatively-inclined can often feel isolated, film lovers should take advantage of the opportunities around them. The aesthetic and social benefits to seeing movies in theatres are vast, and the experience timeless. Of course, we cannot do any of this now, being distanced in our homes and relegated to the realms of individual screens. But perhaps the surge of apps like Zoom and Netflix Party reflect a universal truth: Movies together are better than movies alone. When all this is over, let’s support the theatres that make them happen.   

Support Cinéma Moderne by renting movies online at https://www.cinemamoderne.com/en/, or donate directly at https://orora.smartsimple.ca/ex/ex_Evtpage.jsp?token=HQ4HSRMGZVhaQRBeXxNbQlNXbQ%3D%3D&parentids=2377655&lang=2.

Donate to the Canadian Cinema Workers Fund at https://www.gofundme.com/f/canadian-cinema-worker-fund

Student Life, The Viewpoint

The unexpected irony of self-isolation

Before COVID-19 forced the shutdown of public institutions and non-essential services, my life followed a stable routine. On most days, if I wasn’t already gone for an early shift at work, I would get to McGill at around 9:00 am for my morning classes, spend my free time at the library catching up on assignments, attend extracurriculars after class, and finally return home anywhere between 9:00 pm and midnight. The notion of a routine disappears from our minds by virtue of its chronic occurrence: The more we do something, the less we notice—or try to change the fact—that we do it all the time. A routine only grows more pernicious when it distracts us from the things we’re missing out on. Never in my regimen, during my four years at McGill, had I prioritized socialization. So consumed by a pace of life that emphasized work and success, my time at McGill, if anything, only enabled my solitude.

I live with my family. In the days following the university’s closure and the federal government’s physical distancing mandate , I sequestered myself in my bedroom with the door shut. A full day could go by, and I would not leave my room, save for a handful times. Consequently, I barely spoke to anyone, family or friends. My reflex was to keep social contact to an aggravating minimum; my brother might come in to talk only to be met with curt responses and indifferent expressions. None of my actions were warranted or proportionate to the conditions of our new circumstances. My reaction was not towards my family’s conduct, but rather to the simple prospect of their uninterrupted presence, which had become so unfamiliar so as to become completely alien.

Someone’s degree of extraversion should not be scrutinized extensively, but acceptance should not downplay its deleterious effects either. In the moments when I paid attention to my social isolation, I rationalized my behaviour by reassuring myself of its volitional quality; social isolation wasn’t something to be worried about because I had chosen to be alone. But the truth is that you can’t make a distinction between loneliness and solitude when it pervades most of your life. Or, more poignantly, the distinction becomes worthless.

Choosing to interact with my family became irrelevant as self-isolation became our new, collective routine. The smooth passing of each day, for a time, was predicated on our ability to get along with each other. Two weeks since the municipal shutdown, though, each day has instead become an opportunity to try new things together, or to simply listen and talk to each other. My guess is that this may be a reality for many families across the globe. Where, once, my neighbourhood streets were empty, I now see siblings playing basketball together, parents taking walks with their dogs, or groups of runners jogging down the street while respecting rules of social distancing. I’ve never seen my neighbourhood more alive.

It would be wrong to call COVID-19’s unveiling of our collective loneliness a silver lining; there are far better events that could teach us to be more sociable than the ensuing global pandemic that is occuring. Admittedly, we are dealing with far greater issues than our capacity to get along with each other. Nevertheless, every day, a growing number of videos pop up online showing our resourceful drive for connectedness at a time when we’re being forced to be more isolated than ever. In cities across Europe, residents are giving impromptu concerts on their balconies; on Instagram, celebrities are holding livestreams for millions of fans; friends are holding dinner parties via FaceTime; concerned Montrealers are volunteering to run errands for the elderly and immunocompromised. 

Regardless of their manifestations before COVID-19, everyone’s routines have been disrupted. In their absence, acts of altruism and moments for reflection have emerged. Amidst our hopes for normalcy, we’re rediscovering the scope of our shared experiences, good or bad. Coming together—figuratively—has never been so important.

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