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a, Sports

Behind the Scenes at McGill Athletics

by Morgan Alexander, Mayaz Alam, Elie Waitzer on

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(Photo courtesy of Dr. Gordon Bloom)

Dr. Gordon Bloom

Director, Sports Psychology Research Laboratory

Dr. Gordon Bloom directs the Sports Psychology Research Laboratory and oversees the university’s graduate program in sport and exercise psychology. He played a lot of sports growing up, and says that his interest in the interpersonal aspect of team dynamic turned him onto the field of sports psychology. 

“I was interested in why people behaved a certain way in that environment,” Bloom said. “Two of the people who really inspired me were Phil Jackson at the professional level, and John Wooden at the university level.”

The lab was founded in 2000, and since then, almost every varsity team has benefited from it in some way. Coaches reach out to Bloom as a resource to help struggling players or to talk to the team. Furthermore, many of the graduate students working at the lab do their internships with Redmen and Martlet teams. 

Sports psychology isn’t the first thing you think of when it comes to optimizing athletic performance, but according to Bloom, it’s an aspect of development that’s dangerous to overlook—especially at McGill. 

“[We] make sure that [the athletes are] in a good place where they’re able to balance their sports, academics, and personal lives,” Bloom said. “It’s not easy to do—McGill’s a very demanding school. If you have all three areas under control and in sync, usually your performance will improve; [but] if you let one slip it will carry over into your sports life.”

The basic theory behind sports psychology is simple, and similar to the concept of ‘self-care.’ If you put people in a good place and help them achieve a healthy mindset, they’re going to unlock their potential—whether that’s in the classroom or on the field.

Favourite part of the job: “When people come back to me and say that the guidance that I’ve given them has worked and made them happier and healthier.”

Favourite sport as a kid: “Ice hockey. I always wanted to play in the NHL, but my parents knew I was more skilled at school [….] I didn’t end up playing in the NHL, but I did end up working with players in the NHL."

(Photo courtesy of Geoffrey Phillips)

Geoffrey Phillips

Assistant Director, Sport Programs, Athletics & Recreation

Geoffrey Phillips has been part of McGill for nearly 30 years: First as a student—he got his M.A. in Sports Psychology in 1992—and now as the assistant director of the Sports Programs, Athletics & Recreation.

“I’m definitely more of a programming person,” Phillips said. “I’ve been involved in sports at all levels; I’ve been involved in coaching for many many years. I think it gives me a good understanding of where the coaches are coming from.”

Phillips, a long-time hockey player who considers Wayne Gretzky his sports idol, is a central part of the inner workings of McGill Athletics. Working directly under the executive director of Athletics & Recreation, Phillips is the link between coaches and their programs with the university at large.

“I like to wander around every morning and talk to all the coaches,” Phillips said. “I try to go around and talk to as many people [as possible] about what’s on their mind. I don’t think that’s in my job description […] but I think [that it’s important] so that we can deal with tough issues. In an environment of trust, you have to have that relationship.”

Following the retirement of former executive director of Drew Love, McGill Athletics is going through a period of transition as it searches for a new director. Phillips has taken on a larger role by assisting Interim Director, Philip Quintal, while also introducing new programs, such as the burgeoning Nutrition and Wellness Program, and working more closely with the university administration than ever before.

“I think that we’re on the road to the right place now,” Phillips said. “I sense that we’re going to have a better understanding of what the senior administration is looking for from us, and vice versa and through that avenue we can all benefit.”

Favourite part of the job: “Seeing the student athletes achieve their goals and develop as people.”

Best memory: “The first national championship I was in attendance for—[Redmen Hockey, 2011 …]—I was there in a capacity of administrator on site when they won; and that was an experience I won’t forget [….] Although you’ve played a minor role in the background, just bringing chocolate milk to the players every morning […] you do feel part of it.”

(Photo courtesy of Lisen Moore)

Lisen Moore

Manager, Varsity Sports

With nearly 30 varsity teams, McGill Athletics is a massive operation. Lisen Moore, manager of Varsity Sports at McGill Athletics, is responsible for the technical components and business needs of varsity teams, as well as eligibility registration for athletes, amongst other things. 

“I’ve been very lucky because I have a job that allows me to work with senior administration in the university [and…] also have the opportunity to work directly with students,” Moore said. “As far as I’m concerned, I have the best job at McGill.”

With the cyclical nature that comes with working at a university, Moore’s average day varies considerably from month to month. Additionally, given the increased support for university athletics in Canada, operations at McGill Athletics have changed considerably over the years.

“We used to think that our business calendar was one that had a bit of quiet time in the summer but that’s not the case anymore,” she explained. “We’re really busy in July in preparation for August [….] We have to take in all of the new motions, amend our policies and registration packages to reflect new business […] and roll it out. The quieter periods are December, and it’s  a good time for people to recharge their batteries and reflect on what went well in the Fall [and] what didn’t.”

As an employee of McGill for around 20 years—starting out as the head coach of the Martlet Basketball team—Moore has worn many hats for McGill Athletics.

“I’ve mopped floors here, just because it had to get done,” Moore said. “I’ve served concessions in the past [….] It’s not necessarily in my job description but you’re not going to not do it. I’ve sometimes represented the university or the [CIS] at national meetings or national championships.”

Sport growing up: “I grew up playing soccer, it was the only sport that allowed women to play when I was growing up. I used to try playing hockey in the winter, but I wasn’t allowed to play on the big ice […] so I used to dress up in my brother’s helmet and shoulder pads.”

Best memory: “Bronze medal-winning game for [Martlet Basketball in 1996] at Laval University [….] just how hard that team battled for the win. We lost a very tough semifinal to [University of Toronto] and we had to bounce back the very next day and they were battered and bruised [but] they came out and fought.”

James Davis
a, Arts & Entertainment, Theatre

Heartfelt, Funny, and Politically Incorrect: James Davis is everything stand-up should be

by Ariella Garmaise on

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Nestled atop a bar on Rue Bishop, Comedy Works is a small and intimate venue reminiscent of old-timey comedy clubs, complete with dim lighting and an exposed brick wall. On Saturday night, the usually low-key club was abuzz, as stand-up veteran and cast member of Kevin Hart’s TV Show Real Housewives of Hollywood, James Davis, was scheduled to headline. Local comic Eddie King and Washington D.C.-based Martin Amini opened for Davis, each bringing their distinct geographical perspectives to an evening of racially-charged comedy.

“I love all the beautiful white faces in the room—it makes me feel good about my career progression,” Davis cracked as he peered out at his audience, encapsulating the night’s tone. King and Amini had each tried to approach this dialogue as well, yet failed to deliver it in a way that was as clever or insightful as Davis’ routine. 

King discussed growing up within France’s black community, describing his neighborhood as being “more like a jungle than the Paris you guys have in mind.” He referenced a white kindergarten teacher who made him self-conscious about his racial identity when she reprimanded him for drawing his mother as white, (“Who cares, my father was purple!” he joked). These sound bites were endearing, but a language barrier inhibited him. King is a popular and established French comedian making his debut in the comedy scene. His material is funny, but he is yet to fully grasp the nuances of English that would propel his act to the next level. It’s something that will surely come with practice. 

Amini’s following act was funny but less memorable, using oft-heard lines that got some laughs but ultimately didn’t have much weight behind them. The weakness of this performance only allowed Davis to shine that much brighter. Davis began by describing his childhood in an infamously gang-ridden neighbourhood in L.A., describing himself as growing up “hood adjacent.” He dove into the racism he experienced going to a mostly white high school, particularly from the white coaches on his golf team when they discovered he was talented. 

“They go from not telling me where they live to inviting me to their homes,” he recalled. “They’re like, ‘Have you seen the movie the Blind Side?’ We wanna do that to you.”

Davis recounted these memories playfully and confidently; his Californian swagger stood in stark contrast to the stereotypically neurotic New York comedian. He even bravely explored his personal family trauma, starting with his father’s abandonment. 

“Dads in the black community, something happened—they just separated,” he said. “Chasing my dad is like chasing a girl I have a crush on.” 

He continued discussing his personal connection to police brutality in the United States—his uncle was killed by a cop. In response to the Ferguson riots, he exclaimed, “I don’t like the way the U.S .media portrays black riots—like we’re some savages who can’t wait to riot.”   

From playing with the stereotypes of the quintessential black friend, to questioning the millennial obsession with political correctness, Davis’s satire was both clever, meaningful, and an important critique of society’s current trepidation in approaching race. His routine was able to make the heartbreaking funny—just what good comedy is supposed to do.

a, Opinion

The corporate implications of marijuana legalization

by Alexandra Harvey on

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On Friday, Nov. 13, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau made the first step towards fulfilling one of his most discussed campaign promises: Legalizing marijuana. In a letter to the Minister of Justice Jody Wilson-Raybould, Trudeau asked her to begin looking into a “process that will lead to the legalization and regulation of marijuana.” Now that the question of whether or not marijuana should be legalized has been replaced by the question of how it will be legalized, the question must be what marijuana legalization really means from an economic perspective. Canadians have to be wary of the corporatization of marijuana, and the possibility of the profit landing in the hands of a few individuals.

Activists have been protesting against prohibition for years, and have advocated for the legal distribution of the drug in what they deem to be a quest for justice. The criminalization of marijuana possession is seen as a misuse of public tax money. The cause has swept across the nation; according to a 2015 forum poll of a random sampling of Canadian voters, 60 per cent of respondents approve of marijuana legalization. Many assert that Canadians (of legal age) should have the opportunity to safely access the drug. Legalization would ultimately help to regulate underage use of marijuana, and promote awareness about the effects and consequences of the drug, treating it as a health issue rather than a criminal issue.

While the poll is by no means decisive, it indicates that the tide has turned in favour of legalization. Gone are the days of staunch moralism, but in this new context Canadians must maintain focus on the implications of legalization. They must be wary of potential problems relating to the structure of marijuana distribution. In the aforementioned poll, 18 per cent of adults admitted to using marijuana in the past year, and an additional 13 per cent who do not currently use it are now likely to use it legally. The expected market for pot is three out of every 10 adults, which suggests a consumer-base of approximately eight million Canadians. The current worth of the medical marijuana industry is between $80 and $100 million a year, and analysts estimate that the market for legal marijuana could top $5 billion, with $1 billion in government tax revenues. The tremendous size of this emerging industry begs various questions about how marijuana will be regulated, and who will profit from its sales.

 

Ohioans supported the idea of legalizing pot, but decided that the vast economic implications were far too divisive. It will be up to the Canadian government to decide how the industry will be structured—a decision that may have an enormous social impact.
Canada must take heed of what has taken place to the south. In Ohio, the answers to those questions led to a statewide controversy, which eventually resulted in a rejection of the legalization initiative on Nov. 3. Yet 65 per cent of those who voted “No” “rejected the idea of monopoly, not legalization.” Essentially, Ohioans supported the idea of legalizing pot, but decided that the vast economic implications were far too divisive. It will be up to the Canadian government to decide how the industry will be structured—a decision that may have an enormous social impact.
 
The Ohio Marijuana Legalization Initiative proposed a system in which just 10 marijuana farms that would be run by wealthy campaign donors, transforming pot into an oligopolistic industry. Legalization activists were forced to watch as the ‘corporate takeover’ of marijuana destroyed the authenticity of their cause, as new actors came into the realm that were primarily concerned with profit, and not motivated by a sense of injustice. Pro-legalization groups began to vocally oppose the legal marijuana initiative, referring to the distribution structure as “crony capitalism at its worst,” and calling it a “constitutionalized drug cartel.”
 
Ohio has shown us that the details behind how to legalize pot can lead to dispute and division; it is clear that the debate about how to structure and regulate marijuana distribution becomes larger than the discussion about whether or not it should be legal. Canadian citizens and the Liberal government need to be cautious about similar effects happening in Canada, given the extreme value of the industry that has already been projected. Before Canadians get too excited, it’s important that Canada takes note of the profit in pot, and exactly who it would go to.

 

 

Alexandra is a U1 student studying Political Science and International Development. She is a proud Torontonian, passionate traveler, and knows all the lyrics to "Bohemian Rhapsody."

@McGillTribOp | [email protected]

 

 

 

 

 
a, Opinion

Let’s Talk About Race

by Emma Avery on

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At McGill, issues surrounding sexuality, gender, and consent have come to the forefront of campus dialogue in recent years; however, the same awareness of racial equality and representation does not exist. Conversations about racial issues are so invisible that many students are not even aware that there is anything to talk about at all, despite the fact that, in my experience, racist comments are still present in day-to-day conversation.

Even though racial tensions in Canada have not yet reached the boiling point that they have in the U.S., it does not mean that they don’t exist. Every time another headline-making incident of racism is exposed, Canadians become briefly aware of localized issues—but once media coverage stops, so does the discussion. Rarely do single events translate into sustained dialogue about equity, diversity, representation, and racism as a whole. These are not singular events, but connected phenomena.

Although awareness-raising initiatives do exist at McGill and are important catalysts for change, what is really needed is change in the education structure in order to increase awareness and understanding throughout the entire student body. The lack of representation among faculty and within education curricula must be made visible so that the conversation about race can extend across campus.

 

Rarely do single events translate into sustained dialogue about equity, diversity, representation, and racism as a whole. These are not singular events, but connected phenomena.

Efforts are being made by administrative and student groups to raise awareness about racial issues on campus and in Canada. One of these is Rez Project, which is launching a mandatory workshop, Race and Colonialism, for students living in residence. Initiatives such as these are great in theory and important for bringing such topics onto McGill students’ radars, but are not solutions by themselves, and they do not reach the entire student body. Inevitably, some students don’t notice or see them as warranting attention. Furthermore, racial issues can be extremely individual and may require more discussion and context than Rez Project can provide. Although it is a good start, simply expanding these initiatives wouldn’t have the desired effects without simultaneous change in McGill’s actual education structure.

Weaving the conversation into classroom discussions is crucial to increasing awareness and understanding because it is the only way to ensure that visibility is achieved amongst the entire student body. For example, Lakehead University and the University of Winnipeg have started requiring students to take an indigenous studies course before graduating.

Another part of restructuring education involves better representation among faculty. This might also lead to a greater range of courses being taught, based on works from varying cultural perspectives that are often left out of curriculums. Compared to other Canadian universities, McGill falls short in terms of minority representation at the faculty level, with only one full-time indigenous faculty member relative to other Canadian universities. University of British Columbia employs 33 indigenous professors across faculties, and the University of Manitoba employs 22. Currently, there are no black professors in the department of history, even for classes of African history, and only one black political science professor. McGill is committed in its mission statement to “offering the best possible education” to its students; but to fulfill this, it needs to expose them to a diverse range of perspectives.

If this diversity is not visible to students, it is difficult to have thorough conversations about race, diversity and ethnocentrism. Indeed, universities are the most important places to have these conversations because racial issues, both past and present, are relevant to a wide range of disciplines and influence the way students learn, form opinions, and go on to use their knowledge in society after graduating. Visibility of such issues requires the continuation of initiatives to promote equity and fight discrimination by students, as well as a change in administrative practices. McGill must work towards greater equality through better representation of minorities among faculty and course subjects, as well as the creation of mandatory courses on minority issues. Mandating a class on indigenous studies is no less justifiable than requiring engineers to tak an arts elective (which is the current policy for McGill engineering undergraduates). Many McGill professors and students are aware of these issues, but anyone can look at the demographic of McGill’s faculty and see that it is disproportionately skewed. Greater diversity is necessary to foster greater dialogue, which is central to everything education is about.

 

Emma Avery is a second year anthropology and urban systems student at McGill. Her favourite television show is (still) The Office. She is passionate about soccer, dogs, and St-Viateur bagels.

@McGillTribOp | [email protected]

 

 
a, Off the Board, Opinion

When users perish, their social media accounts live on

by Adrien Hu on

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Two weeks ago, I received a rather typical notification from Facebook. “One of your friends has a birthday this week,” prompted the note. “Wish her a happy birthday.”

To a vast number Facebook users, this notification is oftentimes annoying, yet surely innocent in its intentions. But one thing Facebook failed to take into account was that this particular friend of mine had committed suicide two years prior. What ensued was even more disturbing. Two years after her death, my friend’s profile page was full of updated links, holiday wishes, and I-miss-yous. Her social activity had continued as though she were still the person behind the screen—she even added new friends and changed her profile picture. Although all of this was done with good intentions by family and friends in an attempt to remember her, I could not help but wonder: What would she think if she saw this? Was this really what she wanted? For me, this desperate social perpetuation of the deceased is no longer authentic. It strips these individuals—who can no longer defend themselves—of their right to death and peace online. As death is the literal end of a person’s life, updating that individual’s social media post-mortem is inauthentic and disrespectful. Facebook must do more to guard against this.

Currently, the social media behemoth has over one billion users. Due to Facebook’s popularity, three out of five people who die will own active accounts. As of December 2014, over 4,329 Facebook users die each day.

Interestingly, death on Facebook was not always this prevalent. Founded in 2004, the site’s demographic initially consisted only of young college students; death here was rare. As Facebook grew in popularity, more people over the age of 65 began registering compared to any other age group. Now that the overall age of Facebook users is growing older, the problem of deceased Facebook users has, and will, continue to increase.  

Unlike a physical funeral, an online memorial of continuous messages defies the timespan of death.

To remedy the social presence of the deceased, Facebook’s policies allow for users’ accounts to be reported and memorialized. To do this, a user must report the deceased’s name, approximated date of death, and proof, such as a death certificate or obituary. Once memorialized, no one can login or make changes to the profile; the account’s content as it existed before the death will remain as is, along with the privacy settings; other users will not receive birthday reminders or invitations to connect; new friend requests will no longer be accepted, but existing Facebook friends of the user can still share memories in a memorialized timeline. These innovations are all part of an attempt to honour a person’s memories respectfully on Facebook; but, while thoughtful, this strategy is too naïve.

Already, many users have been kicked out of their accounts when obituaries with identical names were submitted as proof of death. Simon Thulbourn, a German software engineer and famous victim of this phenomenon, discovered that there was, ironically, no way to submit proof of his ‘aliveness.’ Only after taking his frustration onto Twitter and going viral, did this prompt an apology from Facebook, and his account’s reactivation.

Also, once the Facebook account is memorialized, new friends cannot be added. In cases where the deceased is not yet Facebook friends with family members, the latter will be locked out from the memorialized timeline, which defeats the purpose.

To top it off, proof of death is not always easy to come by. Without an obituary, only the immediate family of the Facebook user may have access to hard proof of death. Memorializing the account is then up to the family’s discretion and technological know-how.

Facebook’s policies on memorializing users is deficient. A better procedure should be available—one that integrates automation to aid active reports. Phrase recognition algorithms detecting posts with phrases such as “RIP” can be considered. Accounts lacking a set number of posts from the user per year should be flagged for review automatically. But perhaps most importantly, a deceased person’s accounts should be memorialized in a way where no future posts by others is possible. Unlike a physical funeral, an online memorial of continuous messages defies the timespan of death. On Facebook, posts by friends and family stretching out over years after death make it seem as if a loved one is still forever suspended in a state of dying. By eliminating this, social media can preserve an authentic representation of a person’s life, and allow for a peaceful end on Facebook.

Death is a physical inevitability, and we should give it the same closure on social media that it has in real life. In the case of my friend’s suicide, this right to die must not be outweighed by our need to remember on social media.

 

Adrien Hu is a U3 double major in biology and sociology. She is an avid lover of Netflix, anime, and creating emoji. Look, a cat! ^ .. ^

@McGillTribOp | [email protected]

 

 

 
a, Research Briefs, Science & Technology

Research briefs: Thanksgiving weekend

by Natasha Michaeloff on

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Pumpkin and mammoth pies

Americans who celebrated Thanksgiving last weekend have mastodons and mammoths to thank for the pumpkin pie on the table. In a study published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Science, researchers established a link between the extinction of Pleistocene megafauna—mastodons, mammoths, giant sloths, and others—and the existence of modern pumpkin and squash in North America. 

The researchers theorized that ancient humans did not originally eat pumpkins and squash because of their toxicity and bitter taste, which results from a compound called cucurbitacin. This acted as the plant’s built-in defence system against predators.

“Initially, humans probably ate the seeds of the wild gourds after some washing to get rid of the bitter taste,” explained archaeologist Bruce Smith to Smithsonian Science News. “[Then, over the course of thousands of years] humans selected for non-bitter forms—they would have grown them and cultivated them and then selected through the seeds, finding seeds that had less bitterness and planting them selectively.”

In order to be able to selectively breed plants, however, there must be a variety of plants to choose from—and this is where mammoths come into play. Scientists have discovered fossilized mammoth dung that suggests that the megafauna who lived 12,000 years ago consumed bitter wild gourds. Since the mammoths’ bodies were so massive, the fruit presented a comparatively small amount of cucurbitacin and posed no harm. 

The seeds would pass through the animal’s digestive tract and be deposited along with ‘fertilizer,’ which would help new plants grow, and spread pumpkins and squash across North America. This created a large pool from which farmers could choose from to domesticate.

“It’s been suggested before—and I think it’s a very reasonable hypothesis—that wild species of pumpkin and squash weren’t used for food early in the domestication process,” said Penn State University post-doctoral fellow Logan Kistler in an interview with ScienceDaily.

Pumpkins and squash have been tested and tweaked to meet the needs of mankind. Like dogs, corn, and wheat, the domestication of squash and pumpkins was a slow and deliberate process, relying on a number of large factors. Today, this has enabled it to become a staple in the diets of people around the world, especially on Thanksgiving.

Loneliness & the body

It has long been thought that social isolation is worse for people than consistent social interaction; however, how much worse and precisely in what way has not been determined—until earlier this week.

According to recent studies conducted at the University of Chicago, the inherent stress of being socially isolated causes the body to trigger sympathetic nervous system signalling. The sympathetic nervous system controls the fight or flight response, and induces changes in leukocytes, or white blood cells. More specifically, white blood cells begin activating what is known as the conserved transcriptional response to adversity (CTRA). This induces the expression of genes that contribute to inflammation, and a decrease in the expression of antiviral genes. When the CTRA pathway is activated, and the expression of genes is altered, people become more susceptible to illnesses. 

The study, which sampled 141 adults between the ages of 50 and 68, found to be a reciprocal relationship between CTRA and loneliness, with loneliness even predicting the presence of CTRA and vice versa. 

 “Much of what’s triggered by social isolation is non-conscious,” said University of Chicago psychologist Dr. John Cacioppo, one of the researchers spearheading the project, in his TEDTalk on the subject. 

When alone, the body enters self-preservation mode, which can manifest itself into feelings of paranoia.

“If [one is] looking for dangers, [one is] more likely to see dangers, whether they exist or not,” explained Cacioppo. “[This] culminates in a greater likelihood of negative social interactions, when they do occur.”

a, Student Life, Student of the Week

Student of the Week: Dawn Cheung

by Tiffany Le on

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Dawn Cheung, U4 English Literature major and East Asian Studies minor, is actively contributing to student life on campus in many ways, including through her management of the popular Facebook page: Free Food on Campus and in Montreal. 

Cheung has been living in Montreal since 2007, after moving from Coquitlam, British Columbia with her family upon graduating high school. She lived in and out of the city and went to CEGEP before starting at McGill.

Since September 2014, Cheung has been the president of McGill Students Spoken Word Associated Youth (McSWAY), an outlet for students to express themselves through performance poetry. McSWAY creates a safe space for students to share their thoughts through performance, and provides workshops on spoken word.

“We support people gathering together to share all kinds of poetry—mainly the performance aspect by both dramatizing and having fun with it,” she said.

Cheung’s most popular endeavour, however, used by countless students every day, is the McGill Free Food on Campus and in Montreal group. The Facebook group was created by another McGill student, Margaret Lu, three years ago. Cheung inherited it when Lu graduated, and has been the groups’ administrator for the last two years. It has since grown to more than 10 thousand members.

Cheung’s decision to take responsibility for the group is inspired by both personal reasons and a desire to give back.

“One, I like free food,” Cheung said, “Two, there’s a lot of spamming in the group [that needed regulating].”

It does not take Cheung too much time to regulate, but she does rule with a bit of an iron fist. The group is strictly for free food, and any posts that do not comply are taken down. The rules are clear: First infractions receive a warning; second infractions receive a complete ban. The group also links to other pages that might be a better fit for the content, such as Cheap Food on Campus or Samosa Search.

Although she runs it, Cheung insists that the group is pretty self-maintained.

“The group is run by the people who want free food and I help keep the content aligned with their interest,” Cheung said. “However, if people see a post that brings their hopes up and then they see it is for sale they will ridicule the post in the comments.”

Cheung is also always aiming to improve the group through member feedback. Recently, the group’s name was changed to specify “in Montreal.”

“There’s places off campus as well that [have] really good free food, [like] the free fish and chips in Monkland,” she said.

Cheung will be graduating at the end of this semester, but she is not nervous about finishing up her degree. In fact, she already has experience with convocations. For the past two years, she’s been co-head usher for convocation at McGill.

“I’ve seen people graduate all the time, [I have been there] every single ceremony,” Cheung explained. “I feel okay [about graduating myself], I see it as an extended vacation.”

In January 2016, the responsibility of the group will be passed on again and Cheung is looking for just the right person to hand off the group to.

“I just want to make sure people can find out about the group and join it and contribute information,” Cheung said. “There are conferences and events with tons of extra food at the end that should not go to waste. We say where it is and tell people to come get it.” 

Under Cheung’s care, the Free Food group has successfully adapted the reality of a society with an unbelievably high amount of food waste to meet the mindset of frugal students—a service to McGill that will continue to be used and appreciated long after her graduation.

 

McGill Tribune (MT): What was your Halloween costume this year? 

Dawn Cheung (DC): My partner was the cow and I was the farmer at a couple costume contest—we won. [Then] we switched halfway through the night because we can fit into each other’s clothes.

MT: What is your greatest regret?

DC: That I couldn’t get all the free food. Sometimes I see the free food posts, but then it’s too late and there’s no time, or I was busy and couldn’t get it.

MT: What is the best thing that happened this year?

DC: I moved out! I no longer live with my family.

a, McGill, News

The Internet of Things: Increased connectivity in Canada

by Emily Hu on

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On Tuesday, Nov. 24, the McGill Intellectual Property & Information Technology Policy Club (IPITPOL) hosted a panel to discuss aspects of privacy and governance concerning the internet of things. The Internet of Things is a term referring to a continuously expanding network of physical devices with network connectivity, and the ability to collect and transmit this data through an integrated network widely known as ‘the cloud.’

The panel featured Sunny Handa, a professor at McGill’s Faculty of Law and co-head of the Information Technology Group and India’s Working Group at Blake, Cassels, and Graydon LLP.  Richard Janda, a professor at McGill’s Faculty of Law, and Fenwick McKelvey an assistant professor in the Department of Communication Studies at Concordia University, were also members of the panel.

During the discussion, Handa drew attention to the accessibility of information. A data breach in the cloud can provide companies with consumer information, which enables companies to draw pre-concluded notions about a consumer’s health and persona and can affect things such as life insurance and career opportunities.

“The internet of things is really about big data collection,” said Handa. “Some of you may have this little device [… and] it’s monitoring your heart rate, it’s monitoring your steps, it’s monitoring everything, and […] it gets uploaded into a facility in the cloud that may not be [secure], and if it’s not, then that data goes wherever it shouldn’t go. Then, decisions can be made.”

Handa gave an example to highlight the problematic nature of big data collection.

“An insurance company buys that data, and threats from that tend to be way too high,” she said. “And you might say ‘well, who cares about how many steps I take?’ But, that combined with other data enables the companies to make decisions[1] .”

Handa later highlighted the amount of legal autonomy that transnational, internet-based companies like Netflix have in Canada, in explaining the dispute between Netflix and the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC). In 2014, Netflix and Google refused to provide evidence of their claims that Canadian content was thriving online. Though CRTC tried to obtain this information from Netflix using the Canadian judicial system, their attempts ultimately fell short. Netflix remained in Canada, though failing to provide proof of their compliance with CRTC’s policies.

“Regulators don’t deal well with globalized [companies],” said Handa. “They have no tools and no backing to implement regulation [….] They completely lost control over non-Canadian providers.”

The difficulties of regulating international transnational companies inside Canadian borders may prove to be problematic for Canadian law.

“You can operate for a period of time, despite being outside of the law, to the point where you can rewrite the law [….]” explained McKelvey, referring to the Netflix case.

McKelvey further emphasized the advantage that cloud-based companies have over Canadian companies due to different levels of adherence to Canadian regulations. The limited abilities of Bell to collect consumer data versus Google’s large agglomerated consumer data base creates an unfair advantage for internet companies. Collecting data allows companies to better target and serve their customers.

“In 2012, Bell changed its privacy policy in order to be able to collect data across all devices and be able to file it into one aggregate data base,” said McKelvey. “What came about that was in 2014, due to the government[2]  […] Bell retracted this. Google is a far less regulated system […,] you have only certain companies that follow regulations, and that creates a disparity and a disadvantage for Bell and the fact [is] that they are kind of penalized [….]”

Janda evaluated how the Internet of Things will continue to expand until society becomes automatized around it. According to him, we are currently experiencing a transitional phase.

“Our technology will become the backdrop to the automatic mode of thinking,” he said. “For example, the way we drive on the roads [.…] You respond to certain [road] signs [… and] it becomes an automatic methodology of our thinking [.…] As technology becomes more automatized and as we start to relate to all of our ‘things’ as carrying with them data, it becomes when I’m using this […] I can orient my behaviour into optimal ways.”

 

Aziz Ansari Master of None
a, Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

Pop Dialectic: Aziz Ansari’s Master of None

by Evelyn Goessling and Anna St. Clair on

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There’s no denying that Aziz Ansari’s new Netflix original series, Master of None, has taken the millennial world by storm. Featuring an extremely diverse cast and tackling anything from the quest to find the best taco to institutional racism, the show is being touted as the best comedy of the year. But is it really that incredible? Two writers discuss whether Ansari’s new show is a fresh perspective or just another show about nothing.

ANOTHER MILLENNIAL TROPE

Comedian and actor Aziz Ansari’s new Netflix show, Master of None, presents another story of New York living—with few off-the-wall twists to keep viewers interested.

In Master of None Ansari plays Dev, an actor working and living in New York City facing many issues that all ‘new adults’ deal with. He goes on dates, auditions, awkwardly gets through one-night stands, and frets about his future, like most young adults do. Many sitcoms, like New Girl and Broad City, for example, are based on the same new-adult-big-world premise, but include an outrageous character or plot hook to grab the audience’s attention.

The show has no such character or scenario. Instead, viewers see a relatively normal, albeit funnier-than-average, man go through his life over the course of a few months. Although the lack of drama is off-putting, there are many moments for small laughs, as there probably would be if you were friends with Aziz Ansari. Unfortunately, the only real draw to the show is that it features Ansari; otherwise it would certainly get lost in the sea of sitcoms about 20-somethings living in New York City, dealing with adulthood in any manner of comedic or dramatic mishaps.

Master of None is a Netflix production, and Ansari’s third project with the company. Considering this, it’s easier to understand the lack of punchy drama. Without the pressure of network executives and publicly-released ratings, shows produced by Netflix can be slower, and more subtle. In this way, Master of None is perfect for Netflix, but perhaps not for broad audiences.

This is just the most recent release in a media trend that’s putting network TV in a panic. The way that people watch TV is completely changing, and with the change in consumption comes an opportunity for change in content. In this case,Master of None takes that opportunity and runs with it. In every episode he showcases different relevant modern issues, such as everyday racism, sexism, and immigration. Netflix has given a great deal of freedom to television writers, producers, and actors, and beyond Master of None it will be exciting to see how far the streaming company goes in pushing the boundaries of typical television.

One virtue of the show is that it puts a different spin on otherwise familiar scenario. There is something to be said for a depiction of life on TV as the slow, at times awkward, sometimes funny little interactions that make up most of life. It’s easy to identify with Dev and his friends, because they don’t have the wild and unrealistic quirks that many sitcom characters do (see: J.D. in Scrubs or Barney in How I Met Your Mother). Unlike these shows Master of None has very minimal dramatization, which at some moments make the show feel boring, and leaves some conversations coming off as extremely self-conscious. The script becomes more noticeable because there’s no wacky comedy to distract from it.

Unlike most of it’s peers, Master of None unabashedly addresses issues of diversity and representation in the media. Then the show goes further by dedicating an entire episode to everyday sexism, and another to the experience of immigrant families in the United States. Another episode specifically explores discrimination against Indian actors in the entertainment industry, including instances of brownface in film that have gone unnoticed for decades. While issues of diversity are addressed explicitly in the show’s plot, Master of None implicitly tackles the problem with an astonishingly diverse cast free of stereotypical tropes.

Master of None works, but not quite. It works as a showcase of Ansari’s versatility in comedy and drama. It works as a discussion of race and representation. Master of None is a mature step in Ansari’s career, and an adventurous combination of his comedic talents and knack for social commentary. As a TV show, Master of None fails to capture the attention of viewers expecting Ansari’s usual upbeat banter.

–Evelyn Goessling

THE SEINFELD ABOUT SOMETHING

When it comes to TV shows set in New York, the need to have a diverse cast becomes more pressing. It’s always imperative to tell the stories of people of colour, but in a city as diverse as New York, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to write an excellent comedy featuring an entirely white cast. One of the biggest criticisms of HBO’s Girls is it’s lack of racial diversity. No 20-something living in New York has a group of friends composed entirely of white people, unless they live in a very specific square blockage on the Upper East Side (see Gossip Girl). Aziz Ansari’s Master of None accurately captures the experience of not just an Indian man living and working in New York, but of any 20 or 30 something in the modern world.

For too long, TV and movie execs have relied on the excuse that casting people of colour as leading men and women will lead to a certain flop. Recent successful shows like The Mindy Project and Fresh Off the Boat have proved that to be false. When shows take place in a city as diverse as New York, that logic seems even more bizarre.

Like ‘90s TV favourite Seinfeld, Master of None follows the everyday life of an actor/comedian in New York. Aziz Ansari plays a fictionalized version of himself, Dev Shah, and each episode is full of the same kind of situational humour that made Seinfeld famous. For instance, in one episode Dev struggles with the ethics of having a sexual relationship with a married woman (Claire Danes). When her husband rudely cuts in front of him at a trendy ice cream shop—stealing the last artisanal hipster dessert—Dev casts aside his uncertainties and begins having spiteful sex with the woman.

Whereas in the ‘90s Seinfeld could get away with an all white cast in a show that made New York City a character in itself, today that lack of diversity is not only unrepresentative, it’s simply unrealistic. The fourth episode in Masters of None, “Indians on TV,” begins with a trip through every Indian stereotype in the media; from the dinner of monkey brains in Indiana Jones, to Apu from The Simpsons, and up to Ashton Kutcher in brownface in a Popchips commercial. The episode revolves around Dev auditioning for a movie with a friend and fellow Indian actor. When he accidently sees an email from the producer he learns the unspoken truth. There can be one Indian guy, but there can’t be two. As Dev says, “Black people just got to there can be two and even then there can’t be three.” Yet Master of None proves there can be two, three, or four and not feel like an ‘Indian show,’ but a show for everyone in today’s ethnic mosaic cities.

And it’s not just immigration and racial issues that Master of None captures with impeccable humour and accuracy. The social scene of 2015 doesn’t revolve around a group of friends all hanging out at a coffee shop anymore, nor can people expect friends to spontaneously burst into our apartments with urgent news. Instead the social humour of Master of None is best depicted when Dev gathers his friends for a night spent binge-watching Sherlock. To his friends’ dismay, he keeps pausing the show to read a text from a girl out loud.Master of None doesn’t need an outrageous character or plot hook to keep viewers interested. Instead, its plot hook comes in it’s immense courage to tackle a range of social issues most sitcoms would balk at. It’s not just immigration and diversity issues that it examines with a light-hearted wit. A later episode paints a touching picture about how we care for our elderly family members that forces watchers to want to immediately call their grandma.

Master of None shows Ansari’s talent as a writer in it’s creative depiction of modern life. While it does address dating and relationships like most sitcoms, this never feels like a trope, but rather an authentic portrait. Dev’s relationship with Rachel (Noel Wells) isn’t forced simply to add a love interest to the action. Their relationship is well-written and it’s clear to from their goofy personalities why the two would date. Even in the familiar sitcom territory of relationships, Master of Noneshows off its strong writing.

Master of None is the comedy show society needs in 2015. It’s not afraid to bring diversity issues to the forefront with clever observational humour. At the same time, its diversity never feels forced, but natural. It’s not trying to be diverse—it’s simply mirroring the real people and their real lives in 2015. With wit and creativity its comments on modern life and relationships make it one of the year’s best comedies.

– Anna St. Clair

trading basics palm
a, Arts & Entertainment

Album Review: Trading Basics – Palm

by Caleb McKend on

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In mid-October, while promoting an upcoming anniversary show, the fantastic American blog-turned-label Exploding in Sound’s Facebook page posted a live performance under a caption heralding the quartet as “EIS, the next generation.” The post seemed apt. The Pennsylvania/New York-based band, Palm, has one foot in the ’90s-esque, oddball guitar rock of their label-mates (LVL UP, Pile, Speedy Ortiz). On their debut album Trading Basics, the other foot is planted firmly in the future, one full of off-kilter beats and echoing yelps. Palm can undoubtedly shred like its peers, but choose to do so off the beaten path, drumming up a devilishly intricate style of art-rock and skipping the dominant influence of Pavement, and heading straight towards Sun City Girls.

The first thing to notice when approaching Trading Basics is just how wrong it sounds. The guitars of Eve Alpert and Kasra Kurt sound dissonantly clawed at—picks are dragged full force across the strings, finger-contorting arpeggios are feverishly exchanged—while the backbone of drummer Hugo Stanley and bassist Gerasimos Livitanos pops up and down through rhythms, equal parts tight and sporadic. The album constantly feels like it’s about to fall apart under the weight of its own jangle and polyrhythms, as in the scattered back-and-forths of “Child Actor” and instrumental track “You Are What Eats You.”

Yet, outside the chaos, Palm create their own brand of catchy music. After the first layer of noise, you stumble upon genuine earworms and some of the smartest melodies to come out of the underground music scene in recent memory. The third track, “Ankles,” particularly functions as a standout showcase for both Stanley’s jittery beats and the group’s knack for infectiously warped vocal lines, with Kurt’s Panda Bear-like yelps of “I don’t need you” ready to spend days resonating in your skull.

The prevalent pitfall in an album as forwardly technical as Trading Basics is the lack of feeling beneath the spectacle, something Palm seems to circle around without fully falling into. The lyrics are minimal and often seem secondary to the melodies, even when vocals are the most prominent part of the mix. The emotions missing on the surface of the lyrics, however, are made up for by the vocal performances themselves. Simply look to Alpert’s ghostly calls on “Crank,” or the surprisingly sweet harmonies opening “Second Ward” for examples.

Trading Basics is an album distinct and memorable as much for its approach to melody as its weirdness. Where bands before and after them look to odd rhythms or jagged guitars as a way to stand out, Palm have built something more complex. Beyond the experimentation, it’s clear they aren’t just showing off, but rather looking towards the future.

Standout tracks:

“Ankles,” “Child Actor,” and “Second Ward”

Sounds like:

Women, Animal Collective, Krill

Best Lyric:

“If we can’t get home for supper/we must just have to suuuufferrrrr” – Crank

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