Acts of civil disobedience are often met with hostility from the public. During the PATCO airline strike in 1981, travellers directed their anger towards the workers fighting for higher pay instead of the Reagan administration, who forced strikers to accept poor wages. White people in South Africa were in support of the government bans on anti-apartheid activists and protestors, in order to protect their own interests. During the Gilets Jaunes protests, Parisians complained not about the rising taxes but about the increased law enforcement responding to the protests.

The response to the past year of pro-Palestine activism at McGill University is no different. Whether it is online or in person, it is likely that you have encountered at least some frustrations with the increased security presence or cancelled classes – actions taken by the university to dismantle encampments and protests this year. Disagreements on the means used to achieve a common goal are nothing new, as they are a way to promote change and improvements. However, completely ostracizing the protesters demanding for McGill to divest from arms manufacturers can prevent productive discussions from taking place.

When discussing the demands of the pro-Palestinian protests, people often argue that large enterprises are not willing to lose economic gains by severing relationships to violent corporations. In response to this, there are different actions citizens will take to pressure enterprises to divest. Some will act on an individual scale by refusing to consume certain goods or services that have ties to unjust regimes. They will do what they can to not be complicit or contribute to these businesses. Sometimes, they may encourage others to do the same, such as when the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement was launched to economically pressure corporations in occupied Palestinian territories. Others may attempt to sever these relationships through negotiation, working with committees and writing reports. Students for Palestine’s Honour and Resistance (SPHR) initially took this approach to discuss McGill’s divestment from arms manufacturers. Nevertheless, after almost two months, the bureaucratic process was abandoned when McGill called off negotiations with SPHR in June.

Since then, McGill has taken additional measures to restrict SPHR organization. In September, the university demanded that SSMU withdraw SPHR club status. The following month, McGill was granted a temporary injunction banning SPHR demonstrations. Due to these actions, SPHR amplified pressure on McGill to divest. They organized walkouts, blocked classes, and informed new students about the movement.

As a response to these actions, many people may claim that disruptive demonstrations can reduce the university’s willingness to reopen negotiations. Yet, the purpose of civil disobedience is to urge authority figures to meet a group’s demands.

For example, in March 2011, Quebec’s provincial government launched a proposal to incrementally hike student tuition over a five-year period. This proposal led to student advocacy against this raise between 2011 and 2012. Over time, protests grew in size and strength to combat the government’s attempts to end the student movement, such as Bill 78. By requiring students to inform the authorities about upcoming protests, this measure intended to restrict the scale of demonstrations. However, the bill actually resulted in more assertive civil disobedience to exemplify student resistance. Although the protests led to violent escalations with law enforcement, these demonstrations turned out to be some of the largest student protests in Quebec’s history. The unflinching nature of the student movement eventually led to the cancellation of the student tuition increase and the revocation of Bill 78.

The decision to partake in a more forceful method is never made lightly. Protestors understand that by taking on a more confrontational approach, they risk losing the general public’s support and face a crackdown from the authorities. However, despite these two consequences, deviations can open the door for constructive dialogue. A thorough set of demands can enhance the depth and breadth of topics brought up at the negotiation table. Without mass mobilization, the strength of social justice movements will be weakened. Without these positions, we can fall victim to unsatisfactory compromises that fail to address structural violence.

Protests or acts of civil disobedience are meant to disrupt your day. They are meant to take socio-political issues out of the negotiation office and include the public. When directing anger to those with a common goal but a different method of achieving it, one can forget that the core issue is not with the different approaches to achieving justice but the issue of injustice itself. There is so much space for meaningful exchange that can take place on the nature, approach, and goal of student civil disobedience, and we need to ensure that it is being utilized.

It’s okay to be a little upset when a protest disrupts your plans. However, if all acts of resistance were tailored to every individual, nothing would ever get done. Prioritizing comfort and convenience will undermine the primary objectives of a political organization. Therefore, the next time you complain about protesters interfering with your schedule, I ask you to think about how much this disturbance will impact you in the long run. Although you will eventually be able to recover from it and carry on with your daily life, the victims of war, violence, and exploitation that protests are fighting for may not.

The post Redirecting Anger appeared first on The McGill Daily.

“In the last few weeks, our students have been arrested, detained, and even physically brutalized, all while conducting non-violent political demonstrations,” said Danna Ballantyne, the CSU’s External Affairs and Mobilization Coordinator. “We deserve to come to campus to learn and to have open dialogue without fearing for our safety.”

In the past semester, Concordia students protesting their university’s involvement in Israel’s genocide in Gaza have faced repression from both the police and the Concordia administration. The CSU reported that the university has charged at least 25 students with academic tribunals and suspensions for Palestine solidarity actions. On September 25, three students were violently arrested and detained in the Guy-Concordia metro station following a protest on campus. On October 31, students held a demonstration to protest the aforementioned arrests and disciplinary measures. Concordia responded by arresting two more students.

In addition to brutality by the Montreal police (SPVM), speakers at the press conference denounced the response of Concordia Security and Prevention Services (CSPS) to student protests. They specifically demanded that CSPS abolish five practices: following students off-campus, conducting citizens’ arrests, physical apprehension and detainment, preemptively coordinating responses to demonstrations with police, and facilitating police brutality and arrest instead of de-escalation.

Concordia spokesperson Vannina Maestracci told the Daily that “SPVM officers are only called by Campus Safety and Prevention Services agents and other community members when necessary and in accordance with Concordia’s policies. CSPS agents are trained in de-escalation, and that is always the primary objective of their response.”

She described the events of October 31 as “a sad example of circumstances deemed to warrant SPVM intervention as an agent was assaulted and others were blocked as they attempted to assist their colleague.”

In a follow-up email, Ballantyne described the CSPS’s actions on October 31 as “extremely escalatory. […] Student testimonies from October 31 allege that certain CSPS agents were seen restraining one of their fellow colleagues from accosting student protestors,” she wrote. “While I can’t speak directly to any claims of assault against these agents, footage of the events that took place on that day only show violence directed towards students.”

Vanessa Massot, Academic and Advocacy Coordinator at the CSU, argued that CSPS’s practices are particularly harmful to racialized students. They referenced the 1969 occupation of the computer labs, where the SPVM brutalized Black students protesting anti-Black racism, leading to the death of a student. President Graham Carr only apologized on Concordia’s behalf for their actions in 1969 in 2022. Massot called on Carr to honour that apology by preventing future police brutality on campus.
Massot’s comments were corroborated by Adam, a Black student and former student association executive, who “experienced firsthand the racial profiling and targeted surveillance that persists at [Concordia].” He described being followed, questioned, and threatened by CSPS for participating in peaceful gatherings.

“The administration continues to champion its commitment to diversity and so-called inclusion,” he said. “But how can those words hold any meaning when students face the same regulatory practices that were echoed all the way back in 1969?”

Abe Berglas, SSMU Vice President University Affairs, told the Daily that criminalizing student protests against the genocide in Palestine “is a really dangerous precedent.” They expressed concern about SPVM presence on Concordia’s campus, given that the Quebec Superior Court recently found racial profiling to be a “systemic problem” within the force. While security guards are different from cops, Berglas also argued that “they often end up perpetuating the same systems of oppression that cops do.”

When asked about the situation at McGill, Berglas confirmed that students have also faced disciplinary charges and physical aggression from security when protesting the genocide in Palestine. Over the summer, McGill frequently collaborated with the SPVM to respond to student protests, including the dismantlement of the Palestine solidarity encampment in July. Most recently, McGill security and the SPVM used tear gas to shut down a pro-Palestine protest on October 7.

However, Berglas believes that McGill students may have some advantages over their counterparts at Concordia.

“I feel as though McGill gets a lot of public attention because it’s seen as a prestigious school, and that also means that protestors get more sympathy,” they explained. “We are more protected knowing that if we go to the press, they’re more likely to take on our story.”

Concordia students are also looking to the press to share their outrage and demand change from their administration.

“This press conference is a plea to the Concordia administration to take seriously the issue of police brutality on their campus and to instill an accountability mechanism for the administration who has been abusing their institutional power instead of acting responsibly and in the interest of their own students’ safety,” said Massot.

The post Concordia Student Union Calls for Cops Off Campus appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The models emerged one by one from a cavern of white walls with  floor lights, illuminating them from underneath. The designs floated down the runway as the models waltzed into a crowd of friends, families, and fellow fashion-loving students. 

Circle of Fashion is a club at McGill that centres around all things fashion, focusing on encouraging students’ fashion interests and creating a community around those interested in self expression through clothing. COF’s guiding mission is to be a space “where students can express their fashion creativity.” The club was founded in 2022 by Manon Ashida and has seen exponential growth in the last two years. COF now has an expansive executive team, a podcast, and events every semester including clothing swaps and pop-up markets. Additionally, COF publishes a print magazine, Pamplemousse, every semester, along with regular additions to their online blog. 

COF also puts on a biannual fashion show. No two are alike, with each show featuring different locations and designers. Last year’s fall fashion show took place at Montreal’s  Olympic swimming pool, while the Winter 2024 show was presented in a gorgeous, gothic church, Chapelle Notre Dame de Bon Secours, located in Old Montreal. The show on November 1 had an air of professionalism and shared vision that permeated the evening. Their dedication to the production value and to creating an all-encompassing, intentional experience made it all the more enjoyable to watch. There is something special about a group of students not only conceptualizing, but actualizing an evening where designers, students, and fashion enthusiasts alike can come together and celebrate storytelling through fashion.  

The materials and silhouettes were the stars of the show. Crocheted knits, buttons, silks, and flowing chiffon jumped off the runway. Viewers couldn’t help but appreciate the intricate skills and craftsmanship these students and artists poured into their creations. Floral motifs and micro-mini styles dominated the evening. Each collection had its own unique flavour, reflecting the personal style of the designers. Whether it was through colour palettes, styling, or the persona they wanted their models to embody, each artist conveyed their distinct and powerful visions. 

The thread connecting all the showcased collections is the showrunners’ obvious passion for creating and designing. The show concluded with a collection that directly reflected the ambiance of the sophisticated setting. Francis Hoang’s collection was filled with three stunning all-white looks that seemed to glide down the runway. In an Instagram post about his vision, Hoang said that he wanted his designs to have a certain “flowiness,” emulating “air, leaves falling, water […] something that moves elegantly.” 

This evening wasn’t just about the clothing, it was also about the storytelling, theatricality, and performance that comes with putting on a runway show. Some models didn’t just walk through the space – they played a character. Their approach called to mind models like Leon Dame who walk with a certain persona in mind. 

On behalf of The McGill Daily, we spoke with model Max Freedman and designer Olivia Dunkley to get a full picture of what the COF show was like from behind the scenes. 

Freedman, first-time model but long-time lover of fashion, was one of the first models to walk. “It was a little nerve-wracking as I have never done anything like that before,” Freedman noted. Despite these nerves, when asked to summarize the experience in three words, Freedman described it as “exciting, collaborative, and new.” Amidst a post-midterm frenzy, the show was a welcome creative outlet for Freedman. 

Dunkley, a returning designer, shared her experience being backstage during the show saying, “The environment is really fun and [it] allows people who are interested in fashion and clothing to come together.” 

Overall, Circle of Fashion’s Fall 2024 show was a celebration of student craftsmanship, uplifting artistic interests that fall outside the scope of school and coursework. The experience was one of collaboration and symbiosis: the designers were able to showcase their creations while attendees had the joy of getting dressed up for an evening out. The COF team created an unforgettable evening that is sure to have a lasting impact.

If you want to keep up with Circle of Fashion, you can follow them on Instagram @circleoffashionmcgill.

The post McGill’s Circle of Fashion Is a Wheel of Artistry appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Global temperatures continue to rise alongside fossil fuel emissions, leading to intensified weather trends and climate patterns. Data released earlier this fall revealed that the ten deadliest extreme weather events of the past 20 years were exacerbated by the burning of fossil fuels. The European Union’s Copernicus Climate Change Service (C3S) “is almost certain” that 2024 will surpass the average global temperature record set in 2023. It will likely be the first calendar year where global temperatures have consistently been 1.5 degrees above the pre-industrial level. This is the temperature threshold that the Paris Agreement states would bring irreversible damage to our planet if crossed.

Canada has been disproportionately impacted by these trends. Temperatures across the country have been rising at approximately twice the rate of the global average. Highly reflective melted snow and ice causes increased absorption of heat, creating a cycle of warming in northern regions. This phenomenon, known as “Arctic amplification,” is causing the Canadian Arctic to warm three times faster than the global average.

Canada’s Changing Climate Report from 2019 stated the effects of widespread warming will intensify across the country. Human-caused climate change has exacerbated the severity and frequency of recent devastating heatwaves, as reported by Environment and Climate Change Canada. The consequences of these phenomena bring threats not only to our ecosystem but to our health and our lives.

This past summer broke global heat records in Canada and internationally. Temperatures have remained high throughout the fall due to weather patterns intensified by climate change, causing record-breaking temperatures in Montreal, Toronto, and Ottawa. Montreal’s temperature high on Halloween broke the 1956 record at 24.4 degrees, ending the month on an alarming note.

Last winter was Canada’s warmest since 1948. In Montreal, mean temperatures were approximately four degrees warmer than average. El Niño patterns – naturally occurring above-average sea surface temperatures in the South Pacific – led to warmer weather internationally during the 2023-2024 winter. Rising ocean temperatures worldwide have contributed to the intensity of last winter’s El Niño.

What can we expect for this winter? It is likely that we will experience a La Niña winter, which brings large-scale cooling to the ocean surface temperatures and generally lowers global temperatures. Regardless of whether or not we see cooler weather this winter, global temperatures will continue to rise due to the relentless burning of fossil fuels.

While Canada has made strides in reducing emissions and minimizing pollution, it is not enough. The Canadian government continues to approve natural gas pipelines that pass through Indigenous territories without consent and criminalizes Indigenous land defenders opposing these projects. At the same time, fossil fuel lobbyists continue to exert influence over Canadian politicians, discouraging the government from adopting more ambitious climate goals. It is imperative that Canada cut emissions and limit new oil and gas projects before it is too late.

The next few months will be especially important for the fight against climate change. The COP29 Climate Change Conference will be held in Azerbaijan from November 11 to 22. At this conference, climate scientists intend to create a stricter timeline for transitioning away from fossil fuels, and increase the funds allocated to help impoverished countries adapt to climate change, such as through climate reparations.

2025 will be a big year for climate policy at McGill: the McGill Board of Governors has promised to divest all direct holdings from fossil fuel firms listed in the Carbon Underground 200, per a vote in 2023. This decision was the result of 12 years of campaigning by Divest McGill, which continues to advocate for the university’s divestment from indirect fossil fuel funds. However, the university’s climate change response leaves much to be desired, especially given that it is not on track to meet its emission reduction goals for 2025.

Climate change affects everyone, but it disproportionately affects vulnerable populations in Canada and across the world. Indigenous populations in the Canadian Arctic are facing the country’s most intense climate change patterns, impacting their physical health and well-being, as well as their cultural practices. Climate change threatens Indigenous communities’ access to nutritious food, clean drinking water, transportation pathways, and traditional land-based knowledge systems. Indigenous people make up ten per cent of Montreal’s unhoused population – despite comprising only one per cent of the city’s population – and are therefore more vulnerable to increasingly cold winters. These are just a few examples of how climate crises are contributing to colonial violence. Climate oppression is also a tactic used by Israel to further oppress Palestinians, weaponizing the climate crisis and depriving Palestinians of strategies to adapt to this change in one of the world’s most climate-vulnerable regions. Israel has systematically stolen Palestinians’ land and water, limiting their access to food and destroying their natural resources.

Student activism has been key in fighting climate change. McGill has a rich network of climate justice groups, focused on intersectionality and fighting climate oppression as a collective. The Disability Inclusive Climate Action Research Program (DICARP) works with McGill’s Faculty of Law to implement effective climate change policies that protect the human rights of disabled people. McGill Students for Greenpeace, the first university chapter of the Canadian climate justice organization, advocates for sustainability practices around campus and in the Montreal community. Divest McGill continues to pressure the university to cut ties with fossil fuels.

Climate change is not just an issue of environmental justice, but an issue of human rights: the attack on our environment is part of a complex system of oppression as a direct result of capitalism and colonialism. In watching temperatures rise year after year, we are seeing the repercussions of corporate greed from fossil fuel companies impact every facet of our society. We must continue to be proactive in our fight to support marginalized communities, and make our planet a better place.

The post Our Planet Approaches The Melting Point appeared first on The McGill Daily.

In an interview with the Montreal Gazette, Stéphanie Vachon, a representative of the Early Childhood Education sector, spoke about the current state of childcare workers in Quebec and the ongoing negotiations with the Quebec government. “Right now, the government should ask us what it can do to keep the staff in place. We hope that this will put pressure to obtain more dates for negotiations, more serious discussions and a commitment from the employer to really resolve the staff shortage in the long term,” Vachon said.

During a rally in Montreal, Vachon further emphasized the importance for the Quebec government to recognize the vital work childcare workers conduct in the public sector. “I think there’s an emergency to react, for the government to realize that it’s a profession that needs to be respected,” said Vachon.

As of right now, the biggest concern for childcare workers in Quebec are salaries. According to Lucie Longchamp, vice-president of the FSSS, the average childcare worker in Quebec is paid between $42,000 and $44,000 per year. “It’s not a big sum of money for the important work they do. They make a big difference in children’s lives,” said Longchamp at the Montreal rally. “Children who are well-equipped in a quality educational service will enter school one step ahead. […] The network is suffering a great deal at the moment, and they need to understand that enough is enough.”

On the bargaining table, the Quebec government is offering childcare workers a 12.7 per cent pay increase over the next five years, while a counter-offer from public-sector unions demanded a 17.4 per cent raise over the same time.

Longchamp explained that the strike mandate will adapt to the context of the negotiations. The strike could shape into later daycare openings, earlier closures, or even full days’ absences. However, Longchamp made it clear that the strike would last up to five days. To provide fair warning and ensure parents are adequately prepared, strike dates and hours will be announced at least ten days in advance.

A province wide-strike in the childcare sector looms over Quebec in the month of November as negotiations continue between the CSN and the Quebec government. The future of childcare services in Quebec remain unknown.

The post Childcare Workers on Strike appeared first on The McGill Daily.

September Surf Cafe
The month of September often clings to the last of summer’s warmth, with sun-kissed days and crisp evenings, slowly introducing comforting breezes and sweater weather. As co-owner Mitch Martin exclaims, “It evokes good feelings!” Arguably my second home, September Surf Café embodies just that. Big windows and conversation-filled air make this Little Burgundy nook the ideal spot to gather, soak up the energetic atmosphere, and eat delicious food. The seating is thoughtfully arranged to create a sense of intimacy and community, making it ideal for catching up with friends. Yes, it gets busy. In my opinion, the bustle adds to its warm and friendly charm (and the line moves fast). Pop by on a weekday for a calmer visit. Start your brunch off with a coffee – or in my case, a rich and delicious matcha. Order the Classic Pancakes if it’s the very last thing you do. Golden, fluffy, with slightly crispy edges, the pancakes sit stacked atop a bed of maple syrup, kissed with a pat of butter and a sprinkle of sea salt – they are truly an experience. The Deluxe Breakfast Sandwich is equally as delightful. Fried egg, smoked ham, and pickles make this savoury treat perfectly balanced and satisfying. What makes September Café so special is that it emulates a feeling of calm and excitement – the kind of feeling that comes back at the start of a new season. The familiar sights of friendly staff, scents of coffee grounds and butter, and sounds of ever-changing conversation evoke a comforting feeling of routine while sparking curiosity about what’s to come.

– Lara Arab Makansi, Social Media Editor

SavSav
“If you know, you know. Ceux qui savent, savent,” says Felix Lam, co-owner of SavSav and former project member of well-known Montreal classics, BarBara and Crew Collective Café. With seven-meter-high ceilings, long plywood communal tables, and funky eats, this Saint-Henri hidden gem is becoming less and less of a secret. SavSav hides at the end of a corridor in an unassuming office building on Brewster Street. Despite its concealed location, this café is a vibrant and eclectic spot that captures the essence of creativity. At first glance, you’ll find people studying, chatting, and relaxing on the comfy velvet couch. The large central island houses a tempting array of pastries, ready to pair with locally roasted coffee or a beautiful ceremonial-grade matcha. Giant windows flood the room with light on sunny days, and the picturesque gold ceiling piece is truly an eye-catcher. Be sure to check out their unique food menu as well: my favourites include the Chicken Salad Toast on crispy brioche, Breakfast Sando with homemade sausage, and the SavSav Bowl with spiced yogurt and thyme-marinated berries. Looking for fresh ingredients and creative chefs? You’re in for a treat. Savsav is the young, modern spot for your next study session or a midday work break. You may get lost on the way and need to ask for directions, but it’s worth it. A true hidden gem!

– Lara Arab Makansi, Social Media Editor

Pizzeria Napoletana
One cannot visit Little Italy without dining at an Italian restaurant – it would be akin to visiting New York and not eating a bagel (or Montreal, for that matter). The charming neighbourhood lives up to its name, and the extent of Italian restaurants is large. However, it would be difficult to go wrong at Pizzeria Napoletana, a restaurant started in 1948 by some of the first Italian immigrants to Montreal. If the mile-long menu frightens you, let me suggest a few courses: start with the burrata, a recipe originating from Bari, Puglia. The decadent ball of burrata is laid on a bed of creamy olive-oil-infused artichokes and ringed with charred red peppers, all of which meld together into a light, bright, and balanced flavour to adorn the complimentary bread knots. Napoletana’s namesake pizzas are modest with their toppings, pairing a few quality ingredients atop thin Neapolitan-style crusts. If pasta strikes your fancy, their Cannelloni Caruso is a stand-out dish: pasta tunnels encasing a meat and ricotta sauce, topped with mozzarella and thick smoked prosciuttino. One cannot dine at an Italian restaurant without capping off the night with a cannolo. If you weren’t aware, the singular form of cannoli is cannolo, though I doubt you’ll be ordering just one. The restaurant is bring-your-own-vino, made easy by their next-door wine store, Miss Napoletana. One could spend a lifetime trying all that Pizzeria Napoletana has to offer – judging by its history, it will continue to remain an institution in Little Italy.

– Luxe Palmer, Copy Editor

Le Santropol
At the end of Duluth Avenue, Le Santropol stands unassuming on the corner, beckoning you in with the aromas wafting from the wood doorframe. Inside the tiny storefront is a deceivingly large treasure trove of little nooks and crannies for you to make yourself at home. The restaurant was founded in 1976, saving a building slated for demolition, and has been a beloved institution ever since. The plant-forward menu of soups, salads, and sandwiches makes room for all types of eaters, vegetarian and vegan included. The Duluth sandwich – sliced pears, cheddar cheese, caramelized onions, arugula, and lettuce stacked atop two slices of the softest brown bread – is intimidatingly tall, yet unexpectedly light and refreshing. The Thai vegetable soup, part of their soup du jour rotation, is the kind of soup you dream about on a cold day or while lying in bed under the weather. The savoury broth is just the right amount of spicy – enough to reinvigorate a weary soul, though not enough to make the nose run afresh. Santropol’s chai is perhaps one of the best chais I’ve had outside of an Indian restaurant. It is clear that they use a homemade spice mix made from whole spices. It is balanced flawlessly: not too milky, richly flavoured, and paired with a sharp kick of ginger that many chais shy away from. It is served in a glass-handled tankard, which is now what I want to drink all my chais from. Le Santropol’s original foundation as an act of love lives on in the attention they give to every detail, from the carefully crafted menu to the warmth and homeliness of the restaurant itself.

– Luxe Palmer, Copy Editor

The post Cozy Cafes and Reliable Restaurants appeared first on The McGill Daily.

November 7 marks eight years since the death of this wonderful poet, singer, and ladies’ man. On September 21, I had the lovely opportunity to celebrate Cohen’s ninetieth birthday at a special event held by The Word Bookstore. Guest speaker and biographer Christof Graf gave a talk entitled “Memories of Leonard Cohen,” during which he shared his experiences accompanying Cohen backstage at his concerts. Graf described himself as a fan “addicted to Cohen,” lucky to have the opportunity to interview Cohen throughout his career and eventually write several books about him. During the talk, Graf provided a detailed account of Cohen’s life here, saying that “Cohen is intrinsically connected to Montreal; he is built into the very fabric of the city.” Audience members were also invited to share their memories of the singer. Though my friends and I were too young to contribute, it was extremely eye-opening to hear from people who had seen him in concert as far back as 1966. Some attendees had even been in Montreal long enough to remember when Cohen would walk up St. Laurent for his daily breakfast bagel, waving hello to his neighbours and to those who recognized him on the streets. 

In the weeks since I attended this celebration, I have spent a frankly absurd amount of time listening to Cohen’s music and reflecting on the legacy of love he has left behind in Montreal. It feels like his ghost is following me wherever I go: walking down the Plateau, where he used to live; going to English classes in the Arts building, where he used to study; even writing this article for The McGill Daily, where he used to contribute. It is impossible for me to separate my experiences in this city from his. 

Part of why I am so submerged in Cohen’s legacy at the moment is because I’ve spent half of my semester analyzing his writing for a class on Canadian poetry. I was reintroduced to “Suzanne,” a song I knew and loved long before I knew anything about its singer. As I heard him sing the lyrics softly into my earphones for the hundredth time, I realized that Cohen himself had put into words what I’d been feeling for him: “She shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers / There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning / They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever / While Suzanne holds the mirror.” 

Cohen’s poetry is a way for me to reflect on my relationship with Montreal. The more I read and hear from him, the more I feel my bond with this city strengthening. Though his work is rarely explicitly about Montreal, those who have lived here can easily identify what he’s talking about – “our lady of the harbour” in “Suzanne,” images of downtown streets like St. Catherine sprinkled throughout Parasites of Heaven. It’s no wonder that the city is so proud to be known as Leonard Cohen’s hometown. 

“I feel at home in Montreal in a way that I don’t feel anywhere else,” Cohen shared with an interviewer in 2006. Similar to his nomadic lifestyle, I myself have moved around many cities over the course of 20 years, never quite feeling tied down to one particular place. Living in Montreal, however, I have made this place my home on my own terms. I’m sure most people who have moved here from another city would agree with me when I say that there’s something about Montreal that you can’t find elsewhere – whether it’s the people, the distinct subcultures, or the strong sense of local identity, it’s the kind of place that makes you want to stay forever. Cohen put it best when writing the introduction to The Spice-Box of Earth in 1961: “I have to keep coming back to Montreal to renew my neurotic affiliations.” 

Even as I continue romanticizing the city through the lens of Cohen’s work, however, I am careful not to romanticize the man himself. I know there is a lot we differ on in terms of political ideology, with much of it being a product of his time. His background as an upper-middle-class, Westmount-dwelling Montrealer is ultimately quite alien from my experience as an immigrant in Canada. What is important to me beyond these differences is that I am still able to learn more about myself through his work. Both his poetry and songwriting actively engage the audience, inviting them to question their own ideologies as they confront his. He is not interested in making his reader comfortable or catering to their tastes. He only wants us to face our own truths. To borrow Cohen’s words from his poem “What I’m Doing Here,” he is waiting for each one of us “to confess.” 

I’ll confess first: I love Leonard Cohen because I know we share the same love for a city far bigger than either of us. I can feel that love while listening to a song recorded in the 1960s, and I can feel it if I go for a walk down Rue Crescent  today. I can feel that love in the legacy he has left behind in Montreal every single day. 

The post Leonard Cohen Holds the Mirror appeared first on The McGill Daily.

At McGill, on October 5th, Students for Palestine’s Honour and Resistance (SPHR) organized a rally at Roddick Gates to emphasize the urgency of solidarity and action for Palestine. These demonstrators joined a Montreal-wide protest at Place des Arts, rallying for Palestinian rights and collaborating with organizations like the Palestinian Youth Movement and ANSWER Coalition, among others.

Hundreds attended the protest outside of campus, bringing to light the number of students advocating for Palestinian rights against Israel’s violence and calling for change from the McGill administration. A counter-protest in support of Israel added to the tense environment, demonstrating the divided opinions on campus. As violence in Gaza has escalated, McGill has seen a surge in student activism – further fueled by the recent violence in Lebanon. From September 11 to October 1 of 2023, the McGill Board of Governors’ Committee on Sustainability and Social Responsibility (CSSR) invited community input on divestment from military-linked companies through a webform. Many students and groups such as SPHR viewed the CSSR’s invitation for community input as a superficial gesture, reflecting institutional resistance to meaningful action on social justice issues, especially given that McGill had previously initiated similar surveys without making concrete commitments to divestment. A student referendum from Fall 2023 showed 79 per cent support for the University’s divestment. This said, the administration’s injunction to prevent the policy’s ratification has only bolstered activists’ resolve.

The encampment on campus at the end of last semester highlighted strong resistance to McGill’s ties to military corporations, prompting intensified discussions on divestment and student opinions regarding the administration’s response. This encampment was established on campus for 75 days throughout the summer, rallying for Palestinian rights, until it was forcibly dismantled by police and private security hired by the university.

Social media, especially Instagram, has been pivotal for student activist groups like SPHR in spreading information about protests and rallying support on campus. Platforms like Instagram allow these groups to share updates, testimonials, and calls to action, amplifying their message within the McGill community and beyond. Hashtags like #PalestinianRights have broadened visibility, empowering activists to critique Western media narratives and address concerns about transparency. Support from groups such as the McGill Indigenous Student Alliance, Independent Jewish Voices McGill, and Divest McGill have further boosted visibility, demonstrating how solidarity among different movements on campus amplifies engagement for the Palestinian cause and strengthens the sense of community.

National and international student organizations called for a “Week of Rage” from October 7 to 11, encouraging students to walk out, rally, and disrupt classes in support of Palestinian justice. Many viewed participation as a moral obligation, framing it as essential for awareness. In response, McGill sought an injunction from the Quebec Superior Court against SPHR, granted on October 8, restricting protests near university entrances. McGill’s actions exemplify how institutions respond to student activism with legal measures, galvanizing activists further in their calls for accountability.

McGill’s Deputy Provost Angela Campbell and Vice-President Fabrice Labeau voiced concern and support for students’ protest rights, while simultaneously framing the injunction as necessary to maintain academic integrity. This mirrors broader trends across North America, where university administrations are balancing support for student activism with enforcing institutional policies. On October 7, protests also erupted at several universities in the U.S. Students from institutions including Columbia University, UC Berkeley, and others voiced opposition to administrative decisions they saw as hindrances to justice-oriented movements. At Columbia, students rallied in support of Palestinian rights, urging the administration to take a stronger stance. Similarly, at UC Berkeley, students expressed frustration with perceived inaction by their leadership, highlighting a shared tension across campuses as students continue to advocate for social justice causes despite institutional challenges.

Over the past year, student protests have highlighted a growing commitment to social justice, often in alignment with broader global movements. At McGill, organizations like SPHR have worked to sustain this momentum by collaborating with faculty initiatives such as Profs4Palestine to host public discussions and conferences. These efforts echo actions at other campuses, where student groups have united under the shared goal of advocating for Palestinian rights as part of a larger push for global justice. One activist remarked to the Daily that “being here today is about standing up for justice and showing that we won’t be silent.”

The post Student Activist Efforts A Year After October 7th appeared first on The McGill Daily.

“Overwriting Palestine: History, Genocide and Denial Today” is the title of the seventh installation of the “On Gaza” speaker series co-sponsored by the Critical Media Lab (CML) and the Research Group on Democracy, Space and Technology (RGDST). On Monday, October 10, students and faculty were invited to come listen to Dr. Ussama Makdisi talk about the importance of acknowledging the active denial and replacement of Palestinian history and the importance of promoting and supporting Palestinian narratives. Dr. Makdisi, is a Professor of History and Chancellor’s Chair at the University of California Berkeley.

Co-organizer Professor Ipek Türeli emphasized the importance for universities to have an active role in challenging dominant Western narratives. “What has been unfolding before our eyes in Gaza and now in Lebanon on media screens is not an issue that is detached from our campus, nor from our academic communities. Students and faculty demand for events such as the “On Gaza” series which are critical to imagining liberated futures for all of us.”

In the past year the whole world has witnessed the killing of an estimated 43,000 Palestinians, a majority of which are children, women and elderly, and over 2,865 Lebanese people, by the Israeli military. Scholars and media have categorized the ongoing brutal killing of Palestinians as the “first livestreamed genocide in history,” however Dr. Makdisi insisted that facts are not enough. He explained that “Calling history into question helps us understand how colonialism in the name of protecting civilization has been legitimized and what is ethically unbearable becomes morally tolerated.” The lecture he gave provided the answer, shedding light on “the ruthless double standard which underlies Western support of Zionism, with Jewish and Israeli life cherished as part of an alleged enlightened Europe after World War II, while Christian and Muslim Palestinian life and history is devalued.”

Makdisi continued his lecture by discussing the history of Palestine, the rise of Zionism and the systematic work of Western liberal leaders and thinkers for the past hundred years to not only deny Palestinians of their history, but also substitute it with Eurocentric visions and racist portrayals. He emphasized that we should go beyond obvious denial of history, and focus on what it has been substituted for. What is actually chosen to be talked about? And how does this play into the passivity we see around us?

The central issue discussed in the talk was how we approach history, emphasizing the need to recognize the instrumentalization of historical narratives and misinformation in shaping public opinion and influencing the international community’s response to the genocide in Gaza.
“The obvious reality is that long before October 7, there was October 6, and October 5, going all the way back to 1948, and before that 1917, and before that 1897 when European Jewish Zionist nationalists met in Basel to put Herzl’s vision of a Jewish State in motion […] even when they knew that there were people living on that land,” explained Dr. Makdisi.

While the Holocaust was a turning point in solidifying international sympathy to the Zionist cause and led to a massive displacement of European Jews, Dr. Makdisi pointed out that neither the U.S. or Britain allowed for big waves of migrations into their territories. Instead they pushed for European Jewish survivors to settle in Palestine in the name of “decency and humanitarianism.” This led to the 1947 UN partition plan, “which gave the Jewish minority a majority of Palestine.” The Nakba followed as a result of this partition plan, with Zionist militias expelling between 750,000 and one million Palestinians from their homelands and forcing them into refugee status.

He explained in this partition plan western leaders “rationalized the idea that the creation of a Jewish state trumped the suffering of Palestinians, and that the natives of this land were irrational, primitives, and aggressive, because they opposed what Western philosophers and politicians thought of as a fundamentally decent and good thing.” Before adding that for the next 60 to 70 years the “consistent denial of the Palestinian relation to Palestinian land and the substitution of Palestinian history with a different narrative had profoundly corrosive moral, political and ethical effects.”

Dr. Makdisi concluded his presentation by highlighting three dominant dogmas. The first is that, in the liberal West, questioning Israel as a Jewish state — regardless of its actions or history — is proscribed, as it challenges the West’s self-perception as having moved beyond its antisemitic past. The second is the philo-Zionist view of Israel as an extension of an idealized West. The third dogma is that Palestinians are increasingly erased—not only stripped of historical context but also depicted as incompatible with Western humanism. Except when they are considered “negative value” as expressed by Palestinian scholar Edward Said, and any attempt to challenge this narrative is framed as violent or antisemitic.

The lecture was aimed at helping us understand the “self-righteous morality” that has been widespread since October 7, 2023. Makdisi highlighted how despite the clear evidence of genocide most Western leaders and politicians are reluctant to acknowledge this history and condemn Israel’s genocidal actions.

Dr. Diana Allan, associate professor in Anthropology at the Institute for the Study of International Development at McGill and co-founder of the Critical Media Lab, told the Daily that “Ussama Makdisi’s scholarship has done so much to illuminate the richness of Palestinian civilization in the multireligious Ottoman Mashriqi region prior to the Nakba, and to trace how the historical arc of Zionism — a European solution to a European problem — began in racist ignorance and erasure of that world, and bends now toward its complete destruction.” She added that “his talk was a rigorously detailed reminder of the devastating cost of mainstream anti-Palestinian colonial ideology, which our governments and institutions continue to uphold.”

Another point Dr. Makdisi touched upon was the crucial role of students in the creation of new narratives. “The students in particular who have not been indoctrinated in the same way into this liberal language and narrative […] who are empathizing with people that they can see suffering, and are not overwriting that suffering with a completely ideological narrative, are outraged. And the students represent the future,” he told the audience.

Will Roberts, co-organiser alongside Professor Türeli, wrote to the Daily saying that “the importance of Dr. Makdisi’s talk — and of the “On Gaza” series in general — is that there is far too little basic truth-telling in the academy about the ongoing genocide in Gaza.” He denounced the McGill administration for making “the University into a space hostile to basic public scholarship and truth-telling, stoking people’s fears and inciting paranoia.” One example of this hostility was the vandalization of posters promoting Dr. Makdisi’s talk, even during the event itself.

“It is so clear, once you know some history, that racism, apartheid, [and] the weaponization of charges of antisemitism will not succeed in making Palestinians disappear as people, nor stop them or their allies around the world of all faiths from fighting and advocating for liberation,” Dr. Makdisi concluded. “But until that future is achieved each of us has a fundamental choice to make. Each of us has to decide on which side of history we want to stand.”

The livestream of the event is available on YouTube: www.youtube.com/live/ORq2yUC1dd0. You can follow the Critical Media Lab on social media to stay updated with their upcoming events.

The post Dr. Makdisi on Overwriting Palestine: History, Genocide and Denial Today appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The Substance, the visceral and stomach-churning body horror film written and directed by French filmmaker Coralie Fargeat, has been described by its star Demi Moore as “The Picture of Dorian Gray meets Death Becomes Her.” It tells the story of aging Hollywood actress Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) who gets fired on her 50h birthday for someone “newer,” and is offered a black market drug that turns her into a younger, more beautiful version of herself. In the preface to the aforementioned Oscar Wilde novel, he writes, “When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself.” And Fargeat’s no-holds-barred approach to body horror – loaded with criticism of Hollywood’s ageism and beauty standards – is exactly how she dreamed it, regardless of whether or not audiences are ready for it. 

The main point of criticism viewers have for The Substance – aside from those who don’t really understand what “body horror” actually means and that it is, in fact, gross – is that the messaging is too relentless. But based on Fargeat’s meticulous script that includes  “as much detail as possible,” this is exactly the point. Every single aspect of the film, overt and subtle, had something to say about ageism and beauty standards in Hollywood, from the cinematography, to the casting, to the specific ways body horror was used. In doing so, Fargeat gives Hollywood a taste of its own medicine. 

 Immediately after watching The Substance, my first thought about Coralie Fargeat was, “this woman knows her film theory.” Unsurprisingly, she attended La Fémis, one of the most prestigious cinema schools in France. Fargeat’s facetious filmmaking challenges the way women have historically been represented in narrative cinema. Her use of fragmentation with the character of Sue (Margaret Qualley), the “younger, hotter” version of Elizabeth, is a direct reference to ideas about representing women first theorized in the 70s by Laura Mulvey. Mulvey argues that fragmented shots of the female body (eyes, boobs, butt, feet, lips, etc.) freeze “the flow of action for erotic contemplation” and present the female body as “mere verisimilitude,” embodying the possessive desire caused by castration anxiety from the male viewer. 

With Sue, Fargeat takes this history of Hollywood attempting to possess the female body by lingering on it, fragmenting it, and deconstructing it, rendering it completely absurd. In a scene where Sue is shooting an episode of her workout show, excessive zoom-ins, slow-mo, replays, and a grid of the shot showing her lips saying “Sue” a million times over garnered laughter from the audience – both genuine and uncomfortable. But it’s just a hyperbolic version of what cinema has been for over a century. The use of nudity serves a similar purpose: Qualley poses nude, lingers, and contemplates her own eroticism. Moore’s nudity is far less stylized: she is lying on the floor or leaning over the sink, unfragmented, unglamourous. 

There is only one male character in the entire film: Dennis Quaid’s scummy studio executive. The rigidity he represents is made all the more real by his constant proximity to the camera. He often enters from a distance and approaches the camera as if invading it. The use of a fisheye lens makes him even more confrontational of a presence. Quaid is also shot flatly and symmetrically, emphasizing the shallowness of his character. The “in-your-faceness” of the film is made literal by the cinematography – it is not a dialogue-heavy movie. It is all completely thought-out and audiences fall right into Fargeat’s well-trained hands whether they like it or not. 

Between films like Poor Things, Drive Away Dolls, and Kinds of Kindness, Margaret Qualley has enjoyed a year as the thriller genre’s new muse. Demi Moore, however, while unanimously popular in the 80s and 90s, hasn’t been in the spotlight for some time. In this way, both of these were stunt castings. Demi Moore was once the highest paid actress in the world, but her career waned immensely in the 2000s and 2010s, both because of her stepping aside to raise her three daughters and the scrutiny the media placed her under. “She’s been put through the media wringer throughout her 40-year career,” writes Richard Lyndon for Vanity Fair, “scrutinized and speculated about and cast aside.” 

In the late 90s and early 2000s, the rise of tabloid culture, beauty and plastic surgery fads, and the inception of the internet, caused a phenomenon of popular actresses either being cast away from the spotlight or getting procedures to look younger. Other actresses popular during the 80s and 90s who suffered immensely because of drastically changing and increasingly harsh media reception include Courtney Cox and Meg Ryan, whose plastic surgeries were moreso the result of external pressure than autonomous decisions, and were criticized heavily. 

However, actresses who have aged naturally are treated no better, Demi Moore included. Other actresses like Geena Davis and Glenn Close have struggled immensely with  getting roles since hitting 50. Moore falls more into this category, as does Elizabeth: her boss fires her exactly on her 50th birthday, sending her a syntactically devastating note on a bouquet of flowers: “you WERE great!,” in contrast with Sue’s congratulatory “you ARE great!” No woman is spared from agism in Hollywood. Fargeat, therefore, does not spare patriarchal Hollywood overlords for a second in The Substance. 

Messaging in The Substance is rivalled in explicitness only by the positively unhinged body horror. Many claimed The Substance to be one of the grossest movies they’ve ever seen, but there was no better genre choice in my eyes to convey Fargeat’s message. Aging, in its simplest terms, is getting nearer to death, a physical transformation that transgresses inside and outside, alive and dead. This is called abjection, a tenet of literary criticism theorized by feminist cultural philosopher Julia Kristeva, and is the subconscious recognition of one’s own mortality brought about by the transgression between the inside and outside of the body, the self and the other. 

Women’s bodies are no stranger to inside-outside transgression and are far more subject to abjection. Between menstruation, childbirth, penetrative sex, birth control, menopause, and all the other daily horrors we experience, we come face to face with the limits of our corporeality on the regular – more than men will ever have to. As Sue becomes more and more abusive of the Substance, she becomes more and more abject. A nightmare sequence shows her back opening up to spill out all her organs, she has to pull a whole chicken wing out of her belly button during rehearsal for her show, and at the end, when she attempts to take full control and not switch back with Elizabeth, her teeth and ears begin to fall off. 

When Sue decides to use the single-use Substance to create yet another version of herself, she turns into the horrifying conglomeration of blood and body parts “Mostro Elisasue.” The elements of her body that transgress inside and outside are extremely purposeful. At one point, an orifice from the monster (an ear? A mouth? Something else perhaps?) opens, producing a lone untethered breast. Here, Fargeat takes a part of Sue that was once for erotic contemplation and renders it a tool for disgust. Aging, despite being a privilege, can still be physically arduous. The idea of trying to counter aging is just as gruesome: the injection of the Substance, including all the needles and stitches, are the parts of real anti-aging procedures we don’t see, and that we only judge the results of.   

Every detail of The Substance being considered “too in your face” by audiences isn’t just missing Fargeat not taking herself too seriously, it’s also missing the irony. The “in-your face-ness” of everything on the internet – every post on social media, every pop culture trend, the mere concept of “influencers,” is all about how to be more beautiful, how to look younger, and buy all these products. But when Fargeat uses that exact same method of saturating the screen with all this visual pathos – this time to comment on the horror of ageism and beauty standards – that’s when something being too overt is criticized.  

The Substance itself is a metaphor for these trends that we see everywhere: Ozempic, trending surgeries like BBLs, buccal fat removal, eye lifts – it’s all body horror. It’s all injections, removals of flesh, the splicing off of excess, putting it elsewhere, things entering our bloodstreams. Aging, too, is bodily decay. One, however, is natural, a privilege even, and is only treated as such when it happens to men. Fargeat’s film may be outlandish, but in this case, as in many, the more impossible and hyperbolic the scenario, the clearer the picture it paints of the body horror women undergo every second, whether at the hands of time or of the world around us.

The post Age, Abjection and Angles in The Substance appeared first on The McGill Daily.

But is that really true? I think this is a passive attitude, one that assumes any kind of political action is out of our hands simply because we do not have voting power. Even outside the context of this specific U.S. election, I find it jarring how the onus of political change is often solely on the electoral process. After all, both the U.S. and Canada are home to millions of green-card holders and legal permanent residents who are affected by the same laws as citizens but are still refused the right to vote for their representatives.

Voting has always been considered the cornerstone of democracy in the West. Coming from India, where huge sections of minority populations are outright omitted from electoral rolls at the whims of the current government, I was not raised with this sentiment. I have always known real political change to come from grassroots movements — from people taking to the streets to fight for what they want. And now, watching the state of the U.S. elections, I am more convinced of this than ever.
Over 700,000 Americans agree with me — these are the people voting “uncommitted,” who are similarly disillusioned with both parties and what they stand for. “Uncommitted” is a voting option that allows citizens to express their dissatisfaction with either candidate, often by choosing “none of the above” on a ballot. While many voters feel obligated to choose between “the lesser of two evils,” the fact remains that “lesser evil” is still evil. Democrats and Republicans have both played a bloody hand in the ongoing genocide of Palestinians, with the Biden administration making more than 100 military aid transfers to Israel since October 7, 2023. Presidential candidate Kamala Harris likewise refuses to budge on her policies that continue to fund Israel’s genocidal campaign. In her recent Presidential Town Hall, she claimed that voters must accept her policies on Palestine if they want to see any kind of change on “other issues.” Harris has also previously responded to pro-Palestine protesters by saying, “You know what? If you want Donald Trump to win, then say that. Otherwise, I’m speaking.”

This dismissive attitude — treating the lives of millions of Palestinians as if they are simply another item on her political checklist — is understandably infuriating to those of us watching these atrocities unfold. Arab and Muslim voters in Michigan have lost faith in the Democratic Party after their continued complicity in Palestinian genocide. As one such voter asserts, “It is their job to earn my vote; it is not my job to fall in line.” And yet, plenty of liberal virtue-signallers continue to fault these citizens for not voting blue. Why should pro-Palestinian voters be blamed for the faults of a system that has failed to represent them? Why should they bear the brunt of scrutiny when the party they are supposed to trust cannot even meet basic demands — to stop funding the slaughter of Palestinians, to stop backing a genocide?

I ask: has a genocide ever been stopped by voting?

Voting is a function of the system, and when the system itself is inherently flawed, trying to “fix” it from within its limits will never work. No matter who wins this election, the United States government will continue sending military aid to Israel and profiting off of Palestinian suffering. It is beyond unfair to force voters to play a part in this genocide through the ballot box.

During this election period, many Americans are instead relying on alternate strategies, such as uncommitted voting or third-party voting, alongside organizing and raising funds for Palestinian aid. For the rest of us, who are not American citizens but understand the importance of stopping U.S.-backed Israeli occupation, we must join the fight on the streets. Montreal-based organizations such as Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights (SPHR) and Montreal4Palestine, as well as transnational ones like the Palestinian Youth Movement (PYM), are important avenues of activism on campus and beyond. I encourage more students to get involved with such organizations, to take part in demonstrations, and to amplify Palestinian voices wherever possible.

The post The Ballot Box Has Failed Us appeared first on The McGill Daily.

For the last five years Launière has been creating art in almost every field at a breakneck pace. In 2023 alone she: premiered her first album on Spotify, Taueu (“in the centre”); published her first book, Akutu (“suspended”); acted in a short film, Katshinau (“Dirty Hands”); and created two stunning (click the link, you’ll thank me later) visual art pieces, Takutatinau and Ninanamapalin – My Body is Trembling. 

In 2019, Launière founded her production company Auen Productions to “interweave the presence of the two-spirited body and experimental audiovisual while drawing inspiration from the cosmogony and sacred spirit of the animals of the Innu world and express a thought on silences and languages ​​through the body.” Launière has directed seven completed performance works so far, and she has another titled Takutauat on the way. 

Earlier this October, I attended a production of Launière’s latest work, a performance art piece titled Aianishkat (“One Generation to the Next”) at Agora de la Danse theatre. The show starred Launière, her mentor Rasili Botz, and her three-year-old daughter Maé-Nitei Launière-Lessard, bringing together three generations of Indigenous women to explore the process of intergenerational pedagogy. The first notes I took after leaving the show were: “Never before have I seen such beautiful hair,” “The child did everything right,” and “Merci, bon nuit.” 

I can’t call it “hairography” because that word would cheapen Launière’s use of hair in this performance. Nor can I leave it at “beautiful” because that would leave out the significance behind its use: Launière utilized her own and Botz’s hair to explore how both trauma and knowledge are passed down through generations. 

Aianishkat began with Botz alone on stage, carefully unwrapping a blanket to reveal chunks of cut black and brown hair, which she spread across the floor as if they were ashes. Then, while braiding her own hair, she fashioned the blanket into a makeshift basket and collected what hair had been thrown away. 

Fabric is integral to this piece; most of the props were either clothing or blankets, which the actors manipulated into different forms to serve a unique artistic purpose. Launière entered the stage shortly after Botz had finished cleaning the floor, carrying a basket of her family’s laundry and sitting down to fold the pieces in an orderly fashion. Her daughter soon joined her onstage. 

Prior to the performance, my friends and I debated how a toddler could participate in this piece. We wondered how a show could run orderly when one of the actors may not understand the concept of a script or cues. I was pleasantly surprised by how perfectly Launière’s daughter performed. Although her actions were, like any toddler’s, unpredictable and spontaneous, everything she did fell completely in line with the performance. Botz and Launière easily ran with the child’s improvisations, occasionally using wind-up toys to coax her back on stage if she wandered into one of the wings. Her sheer joy at accompanying her mother on a stage littered with interesting objects, sounds, and shapes delighted the audience. She not only added a lightness to the second half of the 90 minute show, but also an air of hope for the future. 

Prior to the work, the only performance art I’d seen was a “deconstructed” production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet performed at Toronto’s Young People’s Theatre. It was titled What if Romeo and Juliet… and had four actors each playing changing parts of the scenery from integral scenes in the original play. One actor played a fountain, squatting and flailing his arms. Someone else was a sword, standing on their tippy toes and pointing their fingers at the ceiling. Another actor played the floor.

It left a bad taste in my mouth when it came to the phrase “performance art.” The idea of a primarily improvised production, mainly told through movement instead of words, didn’t particularly interest me. After What if Romeo and Juliet…, I didn’t see how performance art could function well as a medium. 

Yet I became intrigued by Aianishkat as soon as the show lights came on, revealing Botz. I came to a realization about performance art 30 minutes later when all three actors were brought on stage together. The way they interacted was fascinating and told a story all on its own. I realized that nobody on stage was trying to act out a storyline – they were instead performing a truth. Through movement, they were acting out the process of intergenerational teaching. They visually embodied the struggle and perseverance that Indigenous communities have and continue to demonstrate in the fight to uplift their culture in the face of colonization. The power behind this performance stood in the unspoken bond between mentor and student, mother and daughter, artist and audience. 

Launière ended Aianishkat with the only spoken phrase of the performance, “Merci, bon nuit.” She said this with her daughter cradled in her arms, both waving goodbye to the audience and smiling. It didn’t feel right; I thought she should have said “you’re welcome,” because a “thanks” on my part was in order. 

We are all lucky to live so close to Launière’s work. Her next performance art piece, Takutauat, is still in production – updates regarding the time, place, and runtime will be available on her website, www.soleil-launiere.com. In the meantime, I’d implore any art lover in Montreal to treat themselves to one of her many art pieces available online including her book, visual artworks, and award-winning music on Spotify. You can also experience Launière in person at Mundial Montréal on November 19, the Marathon Festival aux Foufounes Électriques on November 20, and Cégep Saint-Laurent on November 29.

The post Soleil Launière: Montreal’s Must-See Multi-Disciplinary Artist appeared first on The McGill Daily.

This scenario is generated in a 2024 study published in Knowledge Mobilization for Settlement, where researchers asked ChatGPT to generate an image of a refugee family in Canada and prompted it to consider ethnic background, integration barriers, and educational levels. Shockingly, it repeatedly depicted refugees as Muslim families, in particular from the Middle East and including women wearing hijabs. It also cited language as a primary integration barrier for these families. The prompts were tested multiple times to capture the AI’s understanding of diverse populations. The results were surprising, revealing a significant lack of nuanced understanding of diversity in the representations of refugee families.

This study also reveals ChatGPT’s disparities in job recommendations for newcomers between the Global North and the Global South. When asked about job prospects for individuals from five countries in the Global North and five from the Global South with the same amount of experience and using the same prompt, ChatGPT suggested lower-tier positions, such as administrative assistant, for those from the Global South, while recommending higher-tier roles, such as software developer, for applicants from the global north. This discrepancy extended to an average salary disparity of $20,000.

Generative AI uses predictive models to generate responses by drawing on historical data. These cases demonstrate how systemic biases and discrimination are ingrained in AI training. These biases are further compounded by language barriers, highlighting another critical area where AI fails to serve newcomers effectively. The study demonstrated how ChatGPT offers substantially less assistance to non-English speakers. Researchers tested it by prompting about opening a bank account in English and French, the two official languages of Canada. ChatGPT provided more detailed and interactive responses to the English prompt than to the French one. ChatGPT’s inconsistent responses across languages show a gap in linguistic support to newcomers in a bilingual country like Canada. For new immigrants who don’t speak English or French, such limitations could lead to inequitable access to critical information, underscoring the need for the development of robust multilingual AI tools.

As newcomers transition through the complex journey of settlement, they often face challenges along the way, including navigating job searches, adapting to a new culture, and facing language barriers in their country of residence. According to Statistics Canada, the unemployment rate for new immigrants living in Canada for less than five years is 12.6 per cent, which is significantly higher than the total unemployment rate of 6.4 per cent as of July 2024. To navigate their career path, newcomers and the settlement sector may turn to AI for immediate assistance. These findings underscore why Canada’s immigration sector must adopt a human-centred approach to AI in order to ensure that technology supports the integration of newcomers without reinforcing stereotypes and biases.

Immigration, Refugee, Citizenship Canada (IRCC) is increasingly applying generative AI and data analytics tools such as Chinook for faster and more effective service delivery in administrative tasks, such as summarizing profiles, triaging applications, and assigning officers based on the sensitivity of cases. Even though they do not involve AI in the final decision-making, any plan to expand the use of AI in providing assistance to immigration settlement requires careful consideration.

“AI tools should be responsive to the specific needs of newcomers that require human oversight in the loop. Every newcomer has a unique story, especially refugee cases, [which] are highly sensitive. AI often misses the nuanced understanding of cultural sensitivity and empathy essential for supporting the integration journeys of diverse newcomers,” says Darcy McCallum, CEO of Social Enterprise for Canada.

Echoing Darcy, Isar Nejadgholi, senior research scientist at the National Research Council of Canada, said, “Because of vulnerabilities and intersectionalities of demographics in this population, it’s very important to understand the specific needs and challenges diverse newcomers face in integration.”

For effective use of AI in immigration, the IRCC should work closely with the settlement sector and provincial governments while serving as the intermediary to newcomers. “Developing AI tools requires an agile, iterative and multidisciplinary approach. Technologists, the settlement sector, policymakers, and AI researchers need to collaborate starting from early stages of AI tools design and development. This collaboration ensures that these tools are reliable, user-centric, culturally sensitive and ethically aligned that meet both technical and user expectations. It requires long-term planning,” Isar added.

Another 2024 study, titled “Human-centred AI applications for Canada’s immigration settlement sector,” found that AI solutions benefit from a prototyping-first approach, allowing for early, iterative testing and refinement.

“Prototypes help identify design flaws early, saving time and resources in the long run,” Isar noted. Technologists play a pivotal role in developing these prototypes, which require hands-on testing and continuous refinement before widespread deployment. “Additionally, to align ethical standards with user needs, centralized government oversight is required that would establish data-sharing protocols, privacy safeguards, and regulatory frameworks,” Isar noted.

Isar further pointed out that AI cannot replace humans in immigration support; rather, this sector requires more humans to apply AI effectively in integrating immigrants, who are one of the biggest contributors to Canada’s economy. “Students should be involved in AI research, as they bring fresh perspectives,” Isar recommends.

One organization, Immigrant Networks, uses AI algorithms to pair newcomers with professional mentors based on shared interests, saving staff time while ensuring appropriate support. “A newcomer’s success depends on language, communication, digital, and networking skills. With the mentorship from Immigrant Networks, 70 per cent of mentees secured jobs within six months,” said Immigrant Network’s founder and CEO Nick Noorani. This approach underscores the importance of employing more humans to train immigrants where AI might fall short of meeting individual needs.

Promoting AI literacy among newcomers and the settlement sector is also essential. “Critical thinking and fact-checking are especially important when interacting with AI in a non-native language,” explained Isar. By understanding AI’s limitations, the literacy training may support newcomers and allow settlement staff to tailor prompts to achieve accurate, useful results.

Canada’s prosperity relies on the success of its immigrant communities. As Nick Noorani states, “Canada is built on immigration. If immigrants fail, Canada will fail.” With ethical design and a human-centred approach, AI can complement Canada’s immigration efforts, ensuring that each newcomer’s potential contributes to a stronger and more inclusive society.

The author is a graduate of the Max Bell School of Public Policy at McGill University.

The post Bridging Culture With Code appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The four countries accuse the Taliban authorities of “gross and systemic” violations of women’s rights under the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), adopted in 1979 and signed by Afghanistan in 2003.

Since its return to power in August 2021, the Taliban has shocked the world with the implementation of the law on “virtue and vice,” which aims at completely erasing women from the public sphere. Enforced by the “morality police,” this law includes restrictions such as:

• barring women from accessing secondary and university education;
• prohibiting women from travelling more than 72 kilometres without a male relative;
• prohibiting women from participating in sports and from entering public areas like parks;
• barring women from raising their voices in public and from looking at men other than their husbands or relatives.

Since the Taliban authorities seized power, it has been reported that nearly 60,000 women-owned businesses were negatively impacted by these restrictions. Amnesty International reports that, in a matter of two months (between June and July 2023), nearly 4,500 women were dismissed from jobs in education.Numerous UN agencies have also reported a sobering surge in forced marriages, child marriages, gender violence, and femicide.

As a result of these accusations, and the aforementioned restrictions, Afghanistan under the Taliban is considered to be the most restrictive regime in its treatment of women. If the hearing proceeds, this will be the first time in history that a country is taken to the ICJ for its violations of CEDAW and will therefore make a solid legal precedent in international law regarding gender prosecution.

The decision to take the Taliban authorities to court comes at a time when many Afghan women and activists feel that the world has forgotten about their struggle due to the international community’s silence on the issue. Living under such restrictive regulations, women do what they can to resist. Some women hold secret classes, while others participate in public campaigns where they share their singing on social media platforms as a protest against recent prohibitions from speaking in public. Some groups continue trying to attract the world’s attention through interviews and activism abroad.
According to the rules of the international court, once the plea is submitted against a party, there is a waiting period of six months in order for both parties to solve their issue without court interference. If this goes unanswered, the case proceeds before the ICJ. While the ICJ is a powerful international body, the rulings of which are legally binding for member-states, it lacks the means to actually enforce its decisions.

The decision to take the Taliban to court has been applauded around the world. In fact, 22 countries have issued a joint statement condemning the Taliban’s violations of the CEDAW: “We […] condemn the gross and systematic human rights violations and abuses in Afghanistan, particularly the gender-based discrimination against women and girls.” But what can this proceeding actually do to help Afghan women in their struggle against this “gender apartheid?”

The Taliban authorities can, in theory, simply ignore the proceeding. However, the Taliban has long been seeking international recognition, which has not been granted. Thus, being taken to court for human rights violations might put a higher price on the Taliban’s practices by inciting other countries to adopt unfavourable diplomatic attitudes towards the regime through sanctions such as maintaining travel bans for members of the Taliban regime, keeping the assets of the Afghanistan Central Bank frozen, limiting corporate cooperation with other countries thus disrupting the production chain of certain goods, and so on.

Some speculate that the recent increase in restrictions issued by the Taliban is actually a strategic play used by the authorities to bargain in negotiations with other states, possibly within the context of the international court proceedings.

The decision to take the Taliban to ICJ marks a significant shift in the way the international community reacts to such blatant human rights violations and gender-based discrimination. By taking risks that can cost them their freedom or even life, the brave Afghan women have brought the issue to the fore of international attention and have initiated tangible legal actions to challenge the wrongs they face.

The post Challenging Gender Discrimination appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Come for the viral demon carousel horse, and stay for the heart-wrenchingly beautiful love story. We Live in Time (2024) knits together the stories of Almut, a flourishing restaurateur, and Tobias, a drifting divorced Weetabix salesman. Their meet-crash (the first in romantic dramedy history, perhaps?) leads to a decade-long saga of enduring love that persists through both the monotony and the drama that life contains. The story is woven in a nonlinear fashion, apropos of the title itself. The film frames the macrocosms and microcosms of time found in ordinary life with heartbreaking grace and intimacy. Life-defining events – career milestones, birth, and death – are boiled down to the small moments that make them up. We experience the long minutes of waiting and false alarms in childbirth, the long minutes of waiting and difficult conversations in death. The film’s magic lies in the little scenes within Almut and Tobias’ life. While the chaotic birth scene in the petrol station was an equally horrific and a beautiful testimony of the goodwill of humanity, it is eclipsed by the quietly touching scene in the bathtub during Almut’s labour, in which she and Tobias share a comically large pack of Jaffa Cakes that sit atop Almut’s pregnant belly. The instant is delicate, intimate, and ordinary; we view these characters in their real lives, intruding on their shared moment. Interludes such as this place the most importance on the smallest memories in one’s life. Time is shown in all different sizes, from Tobias’ stopwatch counting labour contractions to the looming countdown at the biennial chef championship, the Bocuse d’Or. Time  intrudes into everyday conversations:

“Whether we like it or not, the clock is ticking.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Because I’m worried there’s a very distinct and real possibility that I am about to fall in love with you.”

Love is seen in its most desperate and revelatory moments; in its simplicity, served alongside eggs at breakfast; and in carefully choreographed and well-placed scenes of intimacy. 

In the hands of another production, Almut could have easily fallen into the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trap, dancing into Tobias’ doldrum life with her funky hair, spectacular omelets, casual bisexuality, and resolutely independent charm. Florence Pugh obstinately refuses that categorization, bringing incredible life and depth to the character. Almut is not defined by her relationship with Tobias – she has a deep history, defined goals, and is marked by her ambition and drive. Pugh grounds Almut’s headstrong spirit, however, allowing her equal moments of vulnerability and strength. The film’s central question of quality over quantity of time is most apparent in Almut’s recurrent battle with ovarian cancer, which she must face while attempting to balance her family and her career as a chef. Though she views her invitation to the Bocuse d’Or as the pinnacle of her culinary career, Almut’s competitiveness is backed not by selfish aims of obtaining money and fame, but by the desperate desire to leave behind a legacy that her daughter can be proud to claim. 

It is, I believe, objectively impossible for Andrew Garfield to be anything less than the most charming and lovable character in any film he stars in, with We Live in Time being no exception. Tobias joins a long line of Endearingly Nerdy and Bashful Boys who Wear Glasses (joined by Neil Perry, Milo James Thatch, and, of course, Peter Parker). Divorced, living with his father, and working at Weetabix, Tobias meets Almut when he needs her most (as the story always goes). While Almut is defined by her career, Tobias is defined by his unabashed love. He goes all-in on the relationship, accidentally scaring Almut with questions about raising children far too early. As Tobias and Almut fall in love with each other, the audience cannot help but fall equally in love with the two of them. 

Pugh and Garfield, as usual, wholly embody their characters in their signature modes of perfection. Pugh lends an earnestness and profound passion to Almut. Their shared love of food, particularly in how it creates connection and community, is a running theme throughout the film. Garfield embodies Tobias’ earnest love and devotion in an unobtrusive, yet firmly present manner, allowing Pugh to shine without getting lost in her shadow. However, at times, the characters felt slightly formulaic, with their traits and flaws feeling more like stock checklists for the audience to count on their fingers: 

Tobias: 

1. Is organized, devoted to his lists, and most thoroughly a Virgo (he and I are twin souls in this sense). 
2. Has anger management issues and occasional violent bursts of passion.
3. Prioritizes family over career ambitions.
4. Wears glasses (this is a defining character trait of his). 

Almut: 

1. Cooks (quite well).
2. Fights against feeling tied down or limited.
3. Defines her life success by her career achievements.
4. Has cool hair.

The film’s culminating tension falls into the standard trope of frustrating miscommunication and concealment. Almut attempts to hide her participation in the Bocuse d’Or, the stress of which may interfere with her chemotherapy treatment. Tobias cannot fathom her prioritization of her career over their family. The discord between their ideas of a “successful life” leads to one of Tobias’ characteristic outbursts of anger and a dramatic fight that seems to be a requirement for all romance movies. The film avoids overbearing melodrama, however, offering quick resolution and a patched relationship that makes the ending all the more heartbreakingly tragic.

While the film is not as revolutionary and wheel-reinventing as, say, Aftersun (2022), it derives its charm and power from its ordinariness. The emotions evoked feel familiar, delivered in a frame of warm colour and comfort. The events witnessed (except, perhaps, the international cooking competition and the incredible speed at which Tobias healed after being run over by a car) are both joyfully and painfully common. Though a more dramatic and gut-punching sequence could have aided in the final impact of the film, the ending is quietly devastating: as Almut gracefully skates away from her family, the agony is felt in what is unsaid. The audience is nonetheless banded together in their grief, sharing sobs as the soundtrack plays to the rolling credits.

The Daily gives We Live in Time 4.25 out of 5 stars.

The post A Love Letter to Time appeared first on The McGill Daily.