Adulhadi’s lecture, “Revising the Narrative, Critiquing the Canon: Palestine and Feminist Paradigms,” challenged the homogenization and dehumanization of Arab men and women in the women’s studies canon. Her lecture also contested feminist paradigms that subscribe to the colonial mission of “saving brown women from brown men” and fail to acknowledge the agency and voice of Palestinian women.

Abdulhadi began her talk by discussing instances when Palestinian women’s voices and agency were overlooked or misunderstood by women who have more power. For example, she spoke about a self-avowed feminist fashion house that staged a photo shoot for its summer catalogue in front of the Israeli-West Bank Separation wall in 2004, with the supposed aim of jarring the Israeli state with this image of suffering and despair. Abdulhadi shared a story wherein a chief executive of the company, an Israeli woman, is asked by Umm Muhammad, a Palestinian woman passing by, to join her at a sit-in and call for the wall to be torn down, instead of using the Palestinian’s suffering as a backdrop for her photoshoot. The Israeli woman disregards this invite and says of Umm Muhammad, “She’s too full of hurt, she cannot listen.”

Abdulhadi challenged the audience to question which of these women would be acknowledged as a feminist in the mainstream women studies canon – the “self-avowed feminist” or “the woman who invites those who colonized her land and her life to join her sit-in.”

“Sisterhood is neither powerful, nor global, if it is not on the basis of principled solidarity,” Abdulhadi said, emphasizing multiple times that what matters in any social justice movement is “the indivisibility of justice,” making issues of gender equality, queer rights, and the liberation of Palestine part of the same project.

Abdulhadi also spoke optimistically in her lecture about an increasing show of solidarity from Jewish communities for the Palestinian liberation movement. She explained that, historically, Zionism has always been “a contested narrative” in Jewish communities around the world.

“Sisterhood is neither powerful, nor global, if it is not on the basis of principled solidarity.”

“The Zionist settler-colonial project in Palestine, which claims to speak for the Jews, actually does not,” she said, “and increasingly today, more and more Jews are coming out and saying, ‘not in my name.’”

“I thought [Abdulhadi’s] recognition of anti-Zionist Jewish voices in her talk was really important,” said Anna Ty, a U3 Anthropology and Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies student who attended the lecture, in an interview with The Daily.

For Abdulhadi, critiquing hegemonic narratives is essential to academic work. In an interview with The Daily, she explained that activists in academia who are “speaking truth to power” are doing their job.

However, because of her scholarship and activism, Abdulhadi has been the target of fear tactics and attacks by Zionist groups, like Canary Mission and Campus Watch, for several years. Canary Mission and Campus Watch are websites that profile and personally target activists working for justice in Palestine.

“I thought [Abdulhadi’s] recognition of anti-Zionist Jewish voices in her talk was really important.”

Posters featuring cartoon portraits of Abdulhadi were posted around the SFSU campus earlier this year, targeting her with defamatory charges.

“They want to scare us out of business,” Abdulhadi told The Daily, describing the coordinated attacks of such groups as “cyberbullying” and “incitement of violence.”

“Justice for Palestine is not just a project for the Palestinians,” she told the audience. “Justice for Palestine is a project for everybody who seeks justice.”

A U3 Economics student in attendance, who wished to remain anonymous, told The Daily that this was what they found to be the most interesting part of the lecture. “The thing that stood out to me the most was her idea [of] how you can’t really separate the different issues within the anti-colonial struggle,” the student said.

“Justice for Palestine is a project for everybody who seeks justice.”

Abdulhadi concluded her lecture on this note as well, by explaining that Israel’s settler-colonial project implicates not just Israelis and Palestinians, but rather “every single person who lives anywhere in the world whose [government’s] policies are making it possible for Israel to continue oppressing Palestinians, to continue stealing land.”

“Everybody is invested in either being part of the problem, or in being part of the solution. And that goes for every struggle, not just for Palestine,” Abdulhadi concluded.

The post The indivisibility of justice appeared first on The McGill Daily.

[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”pfooter”]
[special_issue slug=”litsup2016″ element=”init”]

The post Like dust appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Sexual violence has been a particularly prevalent topic on campus in recent months, as a result of the ongoing controversy surrounding McGill’s proposed Sexual Violence Policy, which is currently in development. However, the topic of abuse of power in the university context is rarely discussed publicly.
The topic was briefly discussed at Senate last September with reference to an article published in The Daily, “Let’s Talk about Teacher.” Principal Suzanne Fortier was also asked about allegations of intimate relationships between professors and research assistants in a meeting of the Post Graduate Students’ Society (PGSS) council last November, where she said “We have to […] be careful in respecting [professors’] private lives.”

The University’s Draft Policy against Sexual Violence (DPSV), which was released on September 12 and will be brought to Senate for information this month, does refer to power dynamics in its definition of consent, but does not mention specific types of power dynamics, such as those between students and professors.

“We have to […] be careful in respecting [professors’] private lives.”

During the discussion period, two graduate students asked questions about the DPSV and expressed concerns about the focus of the conversation around sexual assault being solely based on supporting survivors. They said that they would want to see a greater focus on punitive measures against perpetrators in the policy, which currently focuses on “ensuring support for survivors of sexual violence.”

The panelists on Thursday included Nina Hermes, a student who has worked as a floor fellow in McGill residences for the past two years and has been involved with the Sexual Assault Policy Working Group; Claire Michela, the president of the Association of McGill University Support Employees (AMUSE); Jason Opal, an associate professor in the department of history; and Adrienne Piggott, a harassment assessor and chair of the subcommittee of the Joint Board-Senate Committee on Equity for Racialized and Ethnic Persons.

The panelists explained that abuse of power is a pervasive issue because it is extremely difficult to take action against a perpetrator of sexual violence who holds a position of power.

For example, Michela said that AMUSE members who are casual employees face particularly challenging obstacles because “their employers are often their professor or their sports coach,” and because they have short term contracts, “they can easily be let go without actually being fired. The employer can simply wait until their contract is up and then not renew it.”

Speaking specifically about barriers to addressing allegations against professors, Opal explained that, amongst professors, there is a pervasive “fear about a false rumour destroying [a] reputation,” which is often used to shut down other professors who raise concerns about allegations.

He added that when a professor is accused of sexual harassment, this is often seen by other professors “as a threat to the department,” which, he stressed, “is itself unacceptable behaviour.”

Hermes spoke of her personal experience of being sexually assaulted by a floor fellow while living in residence. She explained that she was very disappointed with how her case was dealt with in residence, as the perpetrator was “quietly let go.”

“As someone who has just survived this trauma, I really felt like it was swept under the rug,” she told the audience.

Piggott also mentioned that there is still “a climate of secrecy on campus surrounding sexual harassment complaints,” and the panelists discussed the role of “rumours” and informal channels such as student media and social media in this climate.

“As someone who has just survived this trauma, I really felt like it was swept under the rug.”

Michela suggested that rumours about such abuses of power “have become so difficult for the University to ignore that they’ve become politically powerful.”

Piggott added that the University has been aware that sexual assault is a problem on campus for decades, but it was the discussion of the topic publicly in the media that has finally pushed them to respond now. “It really did have to be a public shaming for the University to respond, and I think that’s really sad,” she said.

Hermes agreed that informal channels are important as “one of the few avenues that survivors can access.” However, she added, “rarely does that [informal channel] result in any sort of justice, because I can write as many articles as I want, but that’s not going to get someone out of their tenured position.”

“It really did have to be a public shaming for the University to respond, and I think that’s really sad.”

Opal also spoke about how professors must become “informed and visible allies” who are “educated in how to respond in the immediate sense” when someone confides in them about having faced sexual harassment.

He suggested that having a physical sign on allied professors’ office doors to indicate that “the person occupying this office is an informed and sympathetic voice” could give students somewhere to turn to when they need help, while also “visibly disrupting a landscape of hostility.”

Speaking to The Daily, Esther, a U4 student in Education who attended the event, said, “It was very interesting to have such different panelists […] because it really gives us a different point of view of all the different people who are trying to act against sexual violence, especially about power dynamics on campus – it’s something that we don’t really talk about.”

“Rarely does that [informal channel] result in any sort of justice, because I can write as many articles as I want, but that’s not going to get someone out of their tenured position.”

In an interview with The Daily, SSMU VP University Affairs and student senator Erin Sobat, who had also attended the panel, explained the key point which he would like to bring before Senate from the discussion.

“I think there’s a real desire expressed both by panelists and by audience members for there to be a real recognition that the issue does exist,” Sobat said, “I don’t think that has happened in a substantial way, even in the language of the policy. There’s not really a trust in the administration and their ability to take meaningful action.”

The post Consent Week panel addresses abuse of power on campus appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Almost every single Saturday of the past year, I’ve walked home from The Daily’s office some time between 4 and 6 a.m. after having spent more than 18 straight hours working. More times than I’d like to admit, I’ve stood at a traffic light, utterly drained and in tears, running these numbers through my head while trying to guess the speed of the next car coming toward me. “Would it kill me on impact if I timed it right?” Usually, the thought only pops up for a single second, but sometimes it has stuck around for a few more – long enough for me to scare myself. “I am not good at my job. My coworkers don’t value the work I do. No one is doing their job right. What’s the point of my existence aside from these endless hours of labour?” In those moments, I’m attacked by these thoughts. I’m writing this piece because of that sea of self-loathing, anger, and exhaustion, because I think it might sound familiar not just to my colleagues, but to many other students working in organizations that do anti-oppression work.

During my time at McGill, I have repeatedly watched the quick deterioration of the mental health of friends who do social justice work. Somehow, the full irony of this only hit me recently. Mental health problems, which can be onset or worsened by stressful conditions, are a social justice issue; anti-oppressive organizations with work environments that damage the mental health of those involved with them are recreating oppressive conditions within their own space. In such organizations, a culture of overwork is indirectly promoted through the normalization and expectation of a dangerous work ethic – for instance, consistent sleep deprivation, and five-hour long meetings.

Practices like these can cause serious, long-term harm to anyone’s mental health. The impact of social determinants of health – like discrimination, violence, and limited access to economic resources – means that the consequences are even heavier for those who are a part of marginalized groups. So, these work conditions are more likely to alienate members of marginalized groups from such organizations or harm them when they do get involved. The emotional labour involved in working with social justice organizations is also likely to be greater for individuals who are marginalized, as their identities are often implicated in the injustices being fought. This, in turn, can make the rest of their work all the more taxing. The weight of a two-hour long discussion about an editorial on Islamophobia is a lot heavier on me as a Muslim woman than on someone without such a personal connection to the issue.

A culture of overwork is not only detrimental to individuals, but to the effectiveness of the organizations in which they work. Needless to say, no matter how appealing the valuable anti-oppressive work of an organization may be, people looking to join the group are likely to turn on their heels after witnessing this culture. Those who do get involved are likely to burn out quickly or, if they’re lucky, quit before things get too bad. For the organization, this means a cycle of understaffing, resignations, and high turnover, which contributes to a lack of institutional memory and mistakes being repeated in loops. All of this makes it nearly impossible for the organization to achieve its anti-oppressive goals, whether that be activist organizing or producing anti-oppressive media.

When you have fifty hours of work to do in a week, self-care remains little more than a taunting ideal, and collective care is relegated to the realm of utopia.

In this culture of overwork, the organization ends up treating its members no better than the disgusting capitalist system it is trying to fight. I say disgusting because capitalism, as an ideology, involves reducing people’s worth to how much labour they can perform and how cost-efficient they are. In the capitalist workplace, you are only valued based on your labour, and if you are marginalized on the basis of your race, ability, sexuality, gender, religion, etcetera, then your labour is likely to be greatly undervalued. This leaves people, particularly marginalized people, to be treated as disposable. For me, fighting against oppressive power structures involves fighting against this kind of environment. Yes, this involves valuing each other’s labour, especially the labour done by those whose identities are marginalized, but we must also avoid valuing each other on the sole basis of this labour.

The truth is, many of us who feel disposable don’t feel that way exclusively because of our individual problems or our coping mechanisms; we feel that way because our workplace, where many of us spend the bulk of our waking hours, treats us as such. In a recent piece in the New York Times titled “Why Therapists Should Talk Politics,” Richard Brouillette explains that an exclusive focus on internal contributors to mental health can push patients to think they themselves are solely responsible for their shaky mental states, overlooking entirely the psychological toll of the broken social and economic system in which they live. Brouillette writess, “Today, if you can’t become what the market wants, it can feel as if you are flawed and have no recourse except to be depressed.”

Not meeting the impossible demands of the normalized work culture at any organization, I think, can feel much the same. Unable to meet these demands, “people feel less hope and more stress; their self-regard is damaged; they believe they are fated to take what they can get; they exist in a state approaching learned helplessness,” argues Brouillette. Unfortunately, organizations with politics that pay lip service to self-care are not exempt from these effects. When you have fifty hours of work to do in a week, self-care remains little more than a taunting ideal, and collective care is relegated to the realm of utopia.

A possible solution for meaningfully prioritizing self-care is to keep the long-term effects of our decisions in mind. When our work is aimed at dismantling inequitable power structures and the violence that is part and parcel to these structures – which harms people every single day – the work no doubt feels (and is) urgent. In my life, this has worked to justify habits like sleeping so few hours a week that, by the time Friday rolls around, I’m a dizzy, vomiting shell of a person. The work is important and we should be working toward social justice as quickly as we can, but when we are working so much that burnout and staff turnover are inevitable, then the situation is something like running at full speed in a hamster wheel.

As we plan how much to take on for the year, how much to discuss at every meeting, and how many hours of work to expect from each other, we must remain aware of our limits in the long term. How much work is possible for a group of our size to do in a way that will harm neither our members nor anyone else affected by our work? Which projects can we stretch over a longer period of time to avoid stretching our fellow organizers instead? These are the kind of structural questions we must ask ourselves. Not only will eliminating this culture of overwork draw in more members to organizations and make them more accessible to those with marginalized identities, but it will also keep members who are already doing crucial work around longer. It will create a work environment where people are treated justly today, instead of waiting for just environments to be created in the far future.

As organizations that value mental health and are working toward a better, more just world, we cannot hope to uphold our values and achieve our goals if we perpetuate the crushing culture of overwork demanded by capitalist ideology. I dream of a world where every human being, regardless of their so-called productivity, is at the very least respected, and at best, radically loved.

Niyousha Bastani is the Coordinating Editor at The Daily, but her opinions here are her own. To contact her, email niyousha.bastani@mail.mcgill.ca.

The post You are not disposable, and neither are your colleagues appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The event series, which ran from February 16 to February 20, included a panel discussion with Montreal-based activists, a talk by Rabbi Cantor Michael Davis called “The Moral Case for BDS,” and the screening of three Palestinian short films. The event series ended on Saturday with a concert and open mic event.

Laura Khoury, an organizer with McGill BDS, told The Daily that the event series was organized “to engage [students] in a discussion about the Palestinian cause and to further discuss the call from Palestinian civil society to carry out boycotts, divestments, and sanctions against Israel until it complies with international law.”

Panel discussion

The Montreal-based activists on the panel held on February 16 were Palestinian activist Zahia El-Masri and writer and community organizer Mostafa Henaway. The panelists spoke about the BDS movement as “a critical tool” for showing international solidarity, highlighting its importance to the Palestinian struggle.

El-Masri highlighted the significance of raising awareness, especially given the lack of mainstream knowledge about the Palestinian struggle. “What it means to be Palestinian today is to be negated the right of your identity, it’s to be negated the right of return, it’s to even be negated the right to have the collective imaginary of a Palestinianhood,” El-Masri said.

Henaway also argued that the BDS movement is imperative because “it’s coming from Palestinians themselves, and they’re demanding our solidarity in this way.”

Speaking about supporting BDS at McGill specifically, El-Masri said, “Every move that you make, every action, every time you spread the word about what’s going on, don’t underestimate it. It makes a difference.” Henaway pointed to student campaigns for McGill to divest from South African apartheid as an example, and explained that the call for BDS was initiated in Durban, South Africa at the 2001 World Conference against Racism.

“The South African delegation wanted to highlight Zionism as a form of apartheid, as a form [of] discrimination and racial inequality that the international community has to uphold as a priority in terms of Israel’s acceptance of international law,” Henaway said.

The call for BDS, he explained, was founded on “fundamental principles of universal justice – that Palestinians should have the same rights that Israeli citizens are able to have.”

“What it means to be Palestinian today is to be negated the right of your identity, it’s to be negated the right of return, it’s to even be negated the right to have the collective imaginary of a Palestinianhood.”

McGill did not divest from South African apartheid until 1985, and Henaway said that while “we look back now on history and lots of people think, ‘How could anybody support South African apartheid, one of the ugliest forms of a racist, colonial state.’ […] There was complete mainstream support for it. It was ‘a liberal democracy in a sea of barbarism in Africa,’ and it’s the same logic that many people who support Israeli apartheid use today.”

During the discussion period, a student in the audience asked the panelists to respond to an argument commonly made against BDS, which is that it negatively affects citizens of Israel.

Henaway responded, “It’s the status quo that actually hurts Israeli citizens at the moment. It’s the fact that they’re seen as supporting an occupation, it’s the fact that […] it’s mandatory for all Israelis to serve [in]the military, the fact that their state is imploding, all of this as a result of an ongoing colonial project impacts them negatively.”

“By supporting BDS, you’re only basically supporting international law,” El-Masri concluded.

Yusuf, a U1 Economics student who attended the panel discussion, told The Daily, “I found the panel very informative, and they gave me new insight into real situations […] that happen in Palestine on a daily basis. […] It was very easy [to] relate to the points they were making, especially in the context of North America.”

Also listen to the multimedia coverage of the panel, hosted by Anya Sivajothy.

The post Montreal activists talk BDS appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Given the extremely cold weather, the event was cut short, with the marchers walking up St. Laurent from the metro station, stopping for a few moments by the mural near St. Laurent and Ontario street that honours missing and murdered Indigenous women, and ending at the intersection of St. Laurent and Sherbrooke.

The march began in 1991 in Vancouver, initially as a response to the murder of a Coast Salish woman and in protest of the lack of response from media and police. A 2014 RCMP report revealed nearly 1,200 documented cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women as of 2013, although some Indigenous activists estimate the real number of cases to be closer to 3,000. Further, a 2015 report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights stated that First Nations, Métis, and Inuit women were five times more likely to die under violent circumstances than young non-Indigenous women. Recent allegations in Val-d’Or which have pointed to Sûreté du Québec police officers abusing Indigenous women sexually and physically were also highlighted during the march.

“The women are marching, and continue to march, missing or murdered, alive or vibrant, and we have to join them to bring peace to those who have not found it […] and who need to never be forgotten.”

The march began with speeches from organizers, as well as a performance by the pow-wow drum group the Buffalo Hat Singers.

“Today we honour Indigenous women, two-spirit and trans women, including trans women of colour, immigrant, refugee, and non-status women, sex workers, and all women who’ve been murdered or have gone missing. We remember and continue to demand justice,” one of the organizers told the crowd.

The marchers walked on St. Laurent quietly to the sound of drums, holding signs that said “Not forgotten” and “Police, do your job.”

Red dresses were hung on tree branches and from fences along the route of the march, inspired by Métis artist Jaime Black’s REDress project, an art series of 600 red dresses installed in public spaces across Canada drawing attention to missing and murdered Indigenous women.

“Today, I want to pray again, in thinking about all of the missing and murdered Indigenous women,” Innu slam poet, activist, and environmentalist Natasha Kanapé Fontaine told the attendees in French before the march began.

“As you walk […] feel the spirits of the Indigenous women who walk on this earth, who do not have peace or who have it but hope to bring it to others. […] The women are marching, and continue to march, missing or murdered, alive or vibrant, and we have to join them to bring peace to those who have not found it […] and who need to never be forgotten,” Fontaine continued.

The post Seventh annual march honours missing and murdered Indigenous women appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Introduction

When we, the authors, first chatted about facial and body hair, it was to talk about the early deaths of our unibrows – may they rest in peace. We discovered that we were both very young when we had our mothers pluck our unibrows, that we both have fairly hairy arms, and that we both have a lot to say about the taboo topics of body and facial hair. Facial hair and body hair are rarely talked about openly or analytically, even though most people have quite a few feelings and experiences when it comes to these topics. Whether you avoid razors like the plague or shave every day, you probably have some feelings about your hair. We wanted to uncover some of these feelings that social norms try to tuck away.

Click here to play the accompanying audio:

The post What’s hair got to do with it? appeared first on The McGill Daily.

With the McGill Invitational Meet – their only home competition – on November 14, The Daily sat down with two members of the team to talk about their experiences, goals, and how to increase the size of their fanbase. Michelle Moore, a third-year Kinesiology student, is on the novice team, and Vickie Leuenberger, a second-year student in the Department of Integrated Studies in Education, is on the expert team. This is Moore’s first year doing synchronized swimming, while Leuenberger has 12 years of experience.

The McGill Daily (MD): I know that McGill isn’t sports fan central; it’s not known for its fanship. But from knowing or seeing McGill sports and the support other teams get, do you feel supported?

Vickie Leuenberger (VL): I feel like [with] synchro, just as a sport in general […] people have a lot of misconceptions, and I feel like […] yes, actually people don’t care [and] don’t know about synchro. […] Just two years ago, we were finally accepted as a varsity team, and I think that was something very important, but I still feel like we’re not having as much support as other teams. Like last year and the one before, our headshots were not even posted on Athletics. […] We’re probably the most successful team at McGill University, and people are not talking about us.

“We’re probably the most successful team at McGill University, and people are not talking about us.”

Also I feel like in general, varsity supports more men’s sports than [women’s] sports. So that’s a bit tricky to talk about, but you know often [for sports that have both men’s and women’s teams] they’re going to only advertise the men’s game […] So of course being a [women-only] sport, we know that we’re not going to get as much support.

Michelle Moore (MM): I know for me, finding out about synchro, it was something I definitely stumbled upon, as opposed to it being advertised to me.

VL: Yeah, exactly, we’re not advertised at all, and that’s super sad. […] But, I mean, I understand that synchro does not bring money, it’s true, and not a lot of people are interested in synchro. Partly because it is a [women’s] sport and secondly because it’s an artistic sport.

MD: I know your team has won the nationals 12 times. For this year, looking forward, what are your goals?

VL: Of course we’d like to bring back that trophy again. […] It’s been a while, since we’ve only had one expert team, but this year we didn’t have enough swimmers to make two teams […] so of course that will make a difference. So I don’t want to be super confident and be like ‘yes, we’re bringing back that trophy,’ but we’ll see.

[Our coaches] want this to be a valuable part of our McGill experience; they want everyone to feel safe and comfortable. […] Yes, it’s stressful […] but I really feel like we support ourselves a lot, so that’s really cool. So yeah, we want to bring back that trophy, but our ultimate goal is to do our best.

MD: What are the most difficult parts of being on the team?

MM: Well, I’d say for me, because it’s my first year, it’s a lot to learn. Even now, it’s still very overwhelming. Even learning how to [go] upside down for the first time, and being like, ‘wow, I’m floating upside down underwater, I’ve never done this before.’ There’s a very steep learning curve.

“[Our coaches] want this to be a valuable part of our McGill experience; they want everyone to feel safe and comfortable.”

VL: I guess with synchro what’s hard [is] we’re really working on having small patterns, so we get kicked a lot. My whole body is like covered in bruises and scratches, it’s really intense.

MM: It’s a full-on contact sport.

VL: Oh, it is, it’s terrible. And we’re also practicing a lot of pilots, which is when you throw someone in the air, but the thing is, I’m the middle person, so when the person falls, she either falls on me or in the water. So I have bruises on my shoulders. The physical part is getting pretty hard.
Michelle, what was one misconception you had about synchro that changed when you started?

MM: I thought that it’d be hard, but I didn’t realize how hard. Because when you watch synchro, it looks so easy, so effortless, and it’s definitely not.

VL: I think another misconception that people have is that [they don’t know] that we don’t touch the bottom, ever, never, never ever. If you touch the bottom, you’re disqualified, so that’s something very serious. People think that we’re just touching in the shallow end, like in Austin Powers […] but that’s not what it is.

—With files from Emile Flavin

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The post Varsity sports hype not in sync with synchronized swimmers appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Liang’s documentary, which follows several teams as they train for the yearly North American Chinese Invitational Volleyball Tournament held during Labour Day weekend, is first in giving coverage to the sport. But, as the director puts it, the game is “definitely much more than a sport.” Liang brings to the screen a raw representation of the communities built around the game.

The footage is polished but feels unedited or, at least, uncensored. Debunking stereotypes of East Asian men, the film offers no stock images to replace the ones it challenges, leaving the viewer to take in all the complexities of dynamic and diverse teams.

“When you walk into the 9-man space, all the stereotypes that come with television presentations of Asian men are totally wiped away,” Liang told The Daily. “These are guys that are tall and have swagger and sort of just defy stereotypes right and left.”

9-man was originally brought to Canada and the U.S. by Chinese immigrants from Taishan, a coastal city in southern China. It thrived in Chinatowns during a time when anti-Chinese sentiment was particularly prevalent in both the U.S. and Canada, following discriminatory legislation like the countries’ respective 1882 and 1923 Chinese Exclusion Acts. Liang told The Daily that the sport “served in the early times as an emotional and physical outlet for people who were faced with a lot of discrimination and really tough lives.”

But for Liang, whose brother is also a 9-man player, the surprising thing was the intense bonding in 9-man teams today and the deep relationships the sport fosters. “I think people don’t often see the microaggressions that Chinese Americans face and the effects of all the emasculating stereotypes there are of Asian Canadians and Asian Americans,” Liang explained to The Daily. “And a lot of these things still play a part in the lives of these men, so having a space that’s their own, a place where they can be free to be who they are, freed of the stereotypes of society, I think is really important.”

9-man presents exactly this – a space of their own. Liang’s representation echoes a space exclusive to men, as the game started at a time when racist legislation limited immigration from China to workers who were men and made Chinatowns almost solely populated by men, who could in turn only socialize with other Chinese workers. This history is reflected in the sport being only played by men to this day.

Another unique trait of the game is its controversial “content rule” which stipulates that two-thirds of a team’s players on court at any point during a game must be “100 per cent” Chinese and the rest must have “Asian heritage.” 9-man bravely presents various perspectives on the rule, bravely delving into the topic.

“I think people don’t often see the microaggressions that Chinese Americans face and the effects of all the emasculating stereotypes.”

“It’s flattering that other cultures want to get involved, but there’s a line and that line needs to be kept,” says Jeff Chung, captain of the Toronto Connex 9-man team. In the film, at a conversation over dinner, the older generation expresses a need to preserve cultural autonomy while younger players express concern about excluding younger generation Chinese Americans who are half Chinese, as more and more half Chinese athletes become interested in the game. There’s also plenty of horizontal racism for the viewer to take in, as stereotypes of Black men being ‘naturally’ taller and stronger are used by some as a reason for specifically excluding Black men who are interested in playing the game.

At the Labour Day tournament, a South Asian player is not permitted to play, and his friend who is allowed to play expresses frustration at how someone who is “one-fourteenth Chinese” can play while his friend cannot. “He looks fully Asian to me,” the player says, exasperated. Liang’s presentation doesn’t seem to privilege a side between the desire to protect the game from appropriation, and the wish to render the definition of Asian American less restrictive and more fluid and nuanced, though she rightly gives very little space to privileged white men complaining about not being able to play the game.

“I can’t ask him to quit because it’d be like asking him to cut off his left arm, and I can’t ask him to cut off his left arm,” says one coach’s wife in the documentary. The same coach cries when his team loses in the semi-final round of the Labour Day tournament, and the camera doesn’t shy away from his intense pain as he admits he will no longer be coaching the team the following year. Liang’s film dives into the deep passion of the game – and it does so unflinchingly.

“I’ve worked as a sports journalist for a long time, I was in NBA locker rooms, NFL locker rooms […] and then I walked into a [9-man] practice in Toronto, where one of the more dominant teams play, and I had the breath taken out of me,” Liang told The Daily, commenting on the intensity of the game and the players’ commitment to it.

The players featured in the film are each distinct in their experience with the sport. From a 91-year-old first generation immigrant who grew up playing and still loves the sport, to a young player who reflects on growing up biracial in a predominantly white neighbourhood, the film highlights various complicated relationships with the cultural heritage and community of the sport. The players appear united, however, in exactly what seems to make the sport something unique – the deep devotion and commitment to 9-man and to keeping the cultural tradition going.

The post Defying stereotypes, preserving tradition appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Classes were held three to four times per week, first in Shariff ’s backyard, and later in Square St. Louis. There was also an option to pay more than five dollars, with the extra cash being donated to Pour 3 Points (To 3 Points), a Quebec initiative that trains sports coaches to be life mentors for young athletes. The McGill Daily sat down with Shariff to look back at the summer project, giving those who missed it a taste of what happens when neighbours come together from all walks of life to dance.

The McGill Daily (MD): Why did you start Karibuni Zumba?

Shazia Shariff (SS): I always wanted to be a dancer, it was one of those beautiful things that I thought I would be. […] When it came to this summer, I thought of doing something more creative […] so I decided to become a Zumba instructor.

One of the key motivations behind that was the idea of getting to know your neighbours, something that I thought really lacked, that I had not known my neighbours despite living here [in the Plateau] for almost a year. And I realized that people generally don’t know each other even though the Plateau is extremely warm, friendly, has a beautiful community feel.

MD: Did you feel like bringing people together through dance fitness was different than if it had been another kind of community initiative?

SS: The thing with dance is that it just pumps those endorphins. It allows you to get loose. […] And there is nothing better than bonding over embarrassing moments. So I guess that’s what makes it different.

“One of the key motivations behind [the project] was the idea of getting to know your neighbours, something that I thought really lacked, that I had not known my neighbours despite living here [in the Plateau] for almost a year.”

MD: Why did you choose the name Karibuni Zumba?

SS: Karibuni means welcome in a very warm sense of the word in Kiswahili. I’m Kenyan, so it was just natural. […] Actually, my grandparents suggested it. […] They said, ‘call it Karibuni, welcome people to your home.’ And before I knew it, I was welcoming people to my backyard.

MD: That’s sweet. Was it mostly students who came?

SS: Actually no, not really. It was all over. I’d say maybe […] 50 per cent students.

MD: Was there anything else you wanted to say about Karibuni Zumba?

SS: From my heart, I absolutely adored the experience. […] Because you just find time to come [to the class] in your daily life, and because you’re so different and you have very different backgrounds and very different problems, day to day, it’s just something [that] connected us deeper than who [we] were as people, it’s just the experience and the sharing the moment, the idea of just living the moment. […] It was also a great way for me personally to express myself in dance. I really enjoyed the idea that I could just play any different kind of reggae music one day, and Indian music, and I could express any different part of my culture.

MD: Sounds beautiful, I’m sad I missed this.

SS: Yeah, and it was really fun in that sense, you know? It was raining once, [but] we danced in the rain nonetheless, and you just share those moments.

The post Dancing with the neighbours appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Several hundred demonstrators and campers joined the march to protest housing inaccessibility and denounce the limited funding for social housing from both the federal and provincial governments.

The march

Protesters, including over 30 community organisations and unions from across Quebec, first gathered at Square Dorchester at 1 p.m. to march to the location of the camp, which had been kept secret. Speeches from organizers and local celebrities kicked off the march. Actor and playwright Alexis Martin highlighted everyone’s right to protest, saying in French that a “public space is a space for protest […] and [these spaces] must be invested in.”

“We want the state, the government, the municipalities […] to develop and invest in social housing so that the general market for housing [can] be affordable to normal people and people with low income.”

“We want the state, the government, the municipalities […] to develop and invest in social housing so that the general market for housing [can] be affordable to normal people and people with low income,” explained Alexandra Pierre, a member of the community organizing staff of Project Genesis, a social justice organization located in Côte-des-Neiges.

Protesters walked for over an hour, chanting “Harper! Couillard! Vos politiques sont un cauchemar!” (Harper! Couillard! Your policies are a nightmare!) and “Les politiques d’austerite, donne plus d’inégalités,” (Policies of austerity create more inequality).

Mona Luxion, a protester and PhD student at McGill told The Daily, “I’m here because I think that housing is a human right […] and something that we as a society should be providing for people and fighting for.”

The camp

Protesters and campers arrived at Parterre du Quartier des spectacles around 2:30 p.m.. Campers began to set up tents while protesters formed a circle around the park. Organizers invited protesters to return the next day for other planned actions.

According to FRAPRU’s website, the camp was intended to be an ongoing installation which would educate the public about housing problems and also denounce the Quebec government for cutting the funding for new social housing in half in its last budget and the federal government for gradually decreasing funds for housing subsidies.

Approximately 60 campers from Montreal and nearby regions who are either facing housing difficulties or are tenants of social housing were planning to stay in the tents. Few tents had been installed when police intervened at around 3 p.m., ordering campers to dismantle the tents. Campers then voted to decide whether they should stay on site, with the majority voting to do so.

“It’s very difficult for us to go on with our daily lives for the rent that we pay – it takes a lot of our income.”

“It’s very difficult for us to go on with our daily lives for the rent that we pay – it takes a lot of our income. So that’s why we are here, to let them know, because we do many many activities [and] manifestations, [but] it’s like nobody hear[s] us […] we want to them to just see that we are very serious, that we are in great in need of social housing,” stated one protester with the Comité d’action de parc extension (CAPE), a housing rights organization.

At around 4 p.m. the police intervened directly, seizing some of the tents and arresting three people. Police surrounded the barely-assembled camp from multiple directions and backed the crowd away from the tents. The camp was fully dismantled and protesters dispersed by 5 p.m.

On May 22, FRAPRU set up camp at the Agence de la santé et des services sociaux of Montréal, on the corner of St. Denis and Pins. However, the campers were evicted from this location as well. On May 23, another camp was set at the corner of the Grande Bibliothéque on Berri. On May 24, the campers decided to end their demonstration.

Earlier this week, Montreal Mayor Denis Coderre declared that he did not accept the notion of a camp, referring to the “security problems” he associated with the Occupy Montreal camp at Square Victoria in 2011.

“My message for Coderre [and] for Couillard is to stop austerity, to stop oppression, to listen to the people. We are afraid today, they use intimidation [and] repression,” Sandra Cordero, a protester who was present at the May Day anti-austerity protests, where police used excessive violence, told The Daily after the police had dispersed the crowd.

“A lot of people are suffering [from inaccessible housing], kids are suffering. I have six kids. I am a single mother and I don’t have a big [income] so I count on that housing; and [the federal government has] that money and they are not investing in housing.”

The post Housing rights group’s tent camp dispersed by police twice in two days appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Gender in art

This was a year of breaking barriers for women and trans people in art, both on campus and off. Women in Montreal actively claimed traditionally gendered roles, creating spaces to speak up about their experiences in art and life. Beyond representation, gender was also addressed thematically in creative work.

At McGill, women took control of the stage, as Tuesday Night Café (TNC) Theatre’s entire season of shows featured only women directors. In Montreal, the creation of an all-women DJ collective, FéMTL, again promoted the work of amazing women in a field where they remain largely invisible. As singer-songwriter Lowell pointed out to The Daily, it is too easy to assume that music production is only done by men. “I’m guilty of it too,” she explained, “And I know people have done the same thing to me.”

Art exhibits such as “Trans Time” – Montreal’s first ever trans collective art exhibit – and Galerie Donald Browne’s “Testosterone,” as well as the novel he, used art to de-naturalize gender binaries. Similarly, the women of LadyCab, a new Montreal-based web series, demonstrated the performativity of gender identities by dressing up as stereotypical ladies to critique patriarchal notions of femininity. We may not have smashed the patriarchy this year, but we certainly did some heavy damage.

Students in art

Juggling academic and creative pursuits no doubt poses unique challenges, but this has never stopped Montreal’s student artists from delving into the city’s art scenes. This year was no exception as student artists took the city by storm, fearlessly tackling taboo topics like intimacy in the Concordia student exhibit “(Intimacy) Limits and Consequences,” to granting old operas new life in Opera McGill’s production of Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro.”

Student communities fostered creative energy, support, and collaboration throughout the year. The annual MainLine Gala for Student Drama created space for three talented women to stage their original plays. McGill’s resident house collective Our House Music (OHM) brought together a tight-knit community of EDM lovers.

At McGill, students debunked the stereotype of an apathetic generation by bridging art and activism. The inaugural Hip Hop Week Montreal taught the university its first lessons about hip hop – a cultural movement that is often ignored in classroom settings despite (or perhaps because of) its political power. The Arab Students’ Association (ASA) spotlighted the social and political power of theatre by staging the Theatre of the Oppressed, inviting spectators to resist everyday oppressions on stage. Student theatre companies across McGill delved into sensitive topics this year, impressing their audiences with taboo stories and with their theatrical innovation. Daring in their approaches, Montreal’s student artists left few stones unturned this year.

Community and culture in Montreal

A city of 1.6 million people, Montreal is known for its cool vibes, its party life, and its poutine. The city is also, however, a metropolis of arts and culture, home to thriving music, theatre, art, and experimental scenes all characterized by their sense of community.

A short trip up to the Mile End will take you to the Drawn & Quarterly bookstore, whose monthly Graphic Novel Book Club brings together an assortment of Montreal folks with little in common but their love of graphic novels. Beer in hand, the attendees discuss a different book each month, analyzing and assessing the designs in a comfortable atmosphere.

For those less interested in graphic novels, the Confabulation storytelling series at MainLine Theatre offers a different kind of community. At these monthly events, all are invited to get up on stage and share a personal experience or spin a yarn. In breaking down the fourth wall, these evenings add a layer of intimacy and authenticity that can sometimes be lost in theatre.

Even the events that only take place once a year offer a glimpse into the love and passion that comes with Montreal culture. This year, POP Montreal provided an opportunity for members of the local music community to come together and take over the city, while its exhibits and panels chronicled the lives of these musicians. Just a few weeks after POP, Montrealers were dressing up and dressing down to celebrate the community of freaks and lovers that is Rocky Horror.
The important thing to remember is that the McGill community isn’t the only one out there – and when you’re feeling isolated on campus, there’s always more to explore.

Saving the Earth with art

Saving planet earth from destruction has become a central concern for our generation, and this year, many Montrealers turned to artistic and cultural mediums to address these concerns. Cinema Politica Concordia kicked off its season with the 2014 documentary Cowspiracy: The Sustainability Secret, which points to animal agriculture as the primary cause of environmental damage today. The film cast the spotlight on an ugly and overlooked culture of overconsumption.
Literally taking matters into their own hands, the employees at Montreal cafe and skills-sharing co-op Le Milieu provided some answers to this trend by hosting “Dumpster Dining,” a culinary workshop. The event served up a mouth-watering reminder that “we can actually make delicious food from food that is otherwise thrown in the trash,” as facilitator Rachel Chainey put it. Multimedia art project Alchemy of Waste also challenged popular perceptions of trash, repackaging landfill-destined goods as artistic mediums.

Using art as direct action, Montreal’s annual PARK(ing) Day kicked out over 200 cars in Montreal from parking lots around the city, reimagining them as creative spaces.

From education to creation to action, these environmental artists demonstrated the variety of innovative ways in which everyone can promote sustainability.

Critiquing oppressive narratives

Art has historically been used both to oppress and to liberate. This year in Montreal, certain art exhibits tended toward the former. The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts sadly but shamelessly enshrined racist and misogynistic tropes of orientalism in its “Marvels and Mirages of Orientalism” exhibit. In an attempt to defy authority, Galerie UQAM’s exhibit, “The Disorderliness of Things,” ironically upheld certain oppressive narratives. By critiquing the corporatized workplace, suburban parenthood, and the like, the exhibit thus only addressing the narratives that oppress more privileged members of society.

Critiquing oppression was much more successful outside of formal gallery spaces. The last weeks of summer saw wheatpastes around the city declaring “Decolonize Turtle Island,” a powerful mark left by the Anti-colonial Street Artists Convergence. At McGill, art/activist duo DarkMatter took on the racial hierarchies that dominate queer movements, shutting down the false promise that ‘it gets better’ with poignant pieces like “It Gets Bourgi.” Also using spoken word, Remi Kanazi smashed rhetorics of neutrality that silence the Palestinian struggle. It was overall a year of critical thinking, with both artists and critics holding us accountable.

Culture picks 2014-15

2014-15 was a year to be proud of local art, as Montreal continued to prove itself as a hub of creativity in Canada. This year’s performances and exhibits shared marginalized stories, called out mainstream media, and mused on the meaning of the digital age. Here are a few of our favourites:

---

Best album: COIN COIN Chapter Three: River Run Thee

The new album from Roberts, saxophonist and stalwart of the Montreal scene, is the artist’s most experimental endeavour. Through sax drones and electronic pulses, Roberts creates eerie soundscapes for her vocal performances to weave through, as she tells surreal stories of Black history. As Grace Bill put it in her article in The Daily, “the result is abstract yet beautiful, evoking a powerful dread or unreality.”

---

Best play: Dear Elizabeth

Based on hundreds of letters sent between the two, Tuesday Night Café (TNC) Theatre’s production chronicled the almost-love of poets Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell. Delving deep into their psyches, it depicted adoration, depression, and, above all, loneliness. Julia Borsellino and Max Katz were beautiful in their portrayals of Bishop and Lowell, while director Marina Miller deftly staged their separation as its own kind of poetry.

---

Best book: Something You Were, Might Have Been, or Have Come to Represent

Written by Jay Winston Ritchie, editor-in-chief of The Void magazine, Something You Were, Might Have Been, or Have Come to Represent is the perfect picture of the awkward existence of young musicians in Montreal. A book of short stories, it chronicles the lives of aspiring artists as they struggle to make time for songwriting in between lecture halls and call centre jobs. Ritchie paints a beautiful and familiar portrait of the city, creating a world that will resonate with any student, musician or not.

---

Art to keep your eye on: Underwater City

Disability activist Aimee Louw launched her new multimedia endeavour, the Underwater City Project, this year. The first part of the project is a zine that chronicles her search for “the most accessible city in Canada,” as Louw assesses the accessibility of five major Canadian cities. Louw uses the idea of the underwater city as a metaphor for an accessible utopia – if urban life were underwater, there would be no transit barriers. The project will eventually be a full documentary, but for now the zine has got our attention.

The post Year in review: Culture appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Fantasia International Film Festival:
Montreal’s Fantasia Film Festival is one of the largest events dedicated to genre film in Canada and the U.S… Founded in 1996 as an event dedicated to Asian films, today the festival screens genre films from all across the world. Placing pop and alternative culture side by side, the festival defines genre films as “a challenging and elegant stream of cinema.” Its audience is known to be very passionate and enthusiastic, and they seem to appreciate the so-called challenging elegance, as the festival is gaining in success every year. According to Variety magazine, “the event received a record 129,000 attendees [in 2014], up 30 per cent from the 2013 festival.” Tickets are already starting to sell out for some of the screenings, so hurry up and save your seat.

The Fantasia International Film Festival will screen shows from July 16 to August 4 at various locations. Tickets can be purchased at fantasiafestival.com

Montreal Sketchfest:
Sick of scripted theatre? Switch things up a bit this May with Sketchfest, Montreal’s annual festival dedicated to sketch comedy and improv. Featuring over forty sketch troupes from around the continent, the ten-day event includes workshops as well as performances, a perfect learning opportunity for any Montrealer seeking to tap into their funny bone. For its 2015 edition, the festival is branching out, hosting a solo character sketch evening, and partnering with Women in Comedy Montreal to celebrate “the ladies of comedy.” This year also marks the festival’s tenth anniversary – hopefully that means ten times the laughs.

Montreal Sketchfest runs May 21 to 30 at Théâtre Ste. Catherine and the Montreal Improv Theatre. Festival passes can be purchased at theatrestecatherine.com.

St. Ambroise Fringe Festival:
The sole principles of Montreal’s annual fringe festival are no artistic direction, no censorship, and no one gets left out. Because participants are selected by lottery, they have the freedom to do whatever they want. The festival strongly believes in accessibility for both performers and audiences – ticket prices are kept low, and whatever cost there is goes directly back to the artists. The result is a wild and crazy festival that brings out some of the most innovative theatre you are ever likely to see on stage, from a diverse and eclectic group of performers. Last year, the bilingual festival brought us such shows as Roller Derby Saved My Soul and Talking Cock. There is no telling what’s in store for 2015, but it won’t be a year to miss.

The St. Ambroise Fringe Festival runs June 1 to 21. Head to montrealfringe.ca for details.

Montreal Jazz Fest:
Montreal Jazz Fest is an internationally acclaimed event, jam-packed with the best of the best in the genre, and perfect for a long, hot late June evening. If you feel like some day drinks to go with the tunes, try House of Jazz, as their patio has no cover charge and a great drink menu. It doesn’t hurt that it’s also a historic jazz venue with famously beautiful decor, hosting stars on its stage since 1968. Recommended artists to check out include Jamie Cullum, a jazz vocalist/pianist with a young flair who covers Rihanna and Jimi Hendrix when he isn’t charming the crowd with his original material, as well as Valerie June, an up-and-coming bluegrass-folk artist with a dreamy voice reminiscent of a gospel choir.

The 36th Montreal Jazz Festival runs from June 26 to July 5. Presale tickets can be purchased at montrealjazzfest.com.

SUMMER SPOTS:

Kem CoBa & La Diperie:
Summer isn’t complete without the perfect ice cream cone, and Montreal provides one-of-a-kind options. If you go for a walk in the Mile End this summer, you won’t miss the line up outside Kem CoBa. A neighbourhood favorite, Kem CoBa is beloved for its homemade, soft-serve ice cream and sorbet combo, featuring an original recipe every few weeks. Combos like almond milk and sour cherry, or Quebec blueberry and honey, are inspired by the two chefs’ own rebellious natures, as they both left the traditional pastry industry in search of more creative freedom.

Less well-known, but no less delicious, is La Diperie, a pop-up ice cream shop that graces the Lower Plateau throughout the summer and early fall. La Diperie serves up soft-serve ice cream with more options for chocolate dippings than you knew existed – everything from Baileys to fleur de sel. Dip into the shop this summer and taste the goodness for yourself.

Laurier Park & Parc Belmont:
After the winter we’ve had, don’t miss any opportunity to spend time outside this summer and soak up some sun. In the Plateau, Laurier Park is a perfect picnic spot. There’s an outdoor pool, endless green grass for lounging and reading, and even ping pong tables, if that’s your thing. It’s also just a good place to sit back and take in the vibrancy of summer in the city.

If you’re looking for a quieter day in the sun, check out Parc Belmont. A buzzing amusement park from 1923 to 1983, today it’s one of the lesser-known green spots in the city. Though it’s no longer home to candy apples, a ferris wheel, or a roller skating rink, it’s still a worthwhile spot for a quiet day of reminiscing, located right on the edge of Rivière-des-prairies.

First Fridays & Farmers’ Markets:
First Fridays are the largest gatherings of food trucks in Montreal. Held on the first Friday of every month from May to October, they draws together mouth-watering street food in a festive atmosphere at the Parc Olympique with live music and DJs, so you can sway to some beats while munching down on your choice of treats.

If street food has you feeling guilty, then you can also indulge in fresh fruits, veggies, and more at the local farmers’ markets popping up around the city. In the Lower Plateau, Santropol Roulant sells baskets of urban garden-grown veggies. If you’re up for a short trip outside of the city, you can head to Arundel to pick up summer fruits from Runaway Creek Farm. Bask in 200 acres of lake, picnic areas, and hiking trails – a natural paradise if there ever was one.

Verdun Greenhouses:
Feel like busting some moves with friends and family? Venture out to Verdun for some outdoor community dancing. The Verdun Greenhouses are only open in the summer and function as the neighbourhood’s outdoor social dancing hotspot, free of charge, and equipped with 511 square meters of a rubber-coated cement dance floor. The dance schedule for 2015 has not been announced yet, but judging by last year’s schedule, the afternoons and evenings will feature many styles – ranging from the likes of tango, salsa, and Zumba to line dancing. The dancing usually goes on for three to four hours, so wear comfy shoes, and come ready to sweat.

The post Summer in the city: festivals and summer spots appeared first on The McGill Daily.