Latest News

Opinion

Campus Conversations: Revolution

The spirit of revolution cannot be extinguished

Jasjot Grewal, Editor-in-Chief 

In June 1984, former Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi ordered a military attack on the Sikh Golden Temple—one of the most significant sites of religious scarcity for Sikhs—in an effort to secure the site from armed Sikh militants. The attack killed thousands of civilians, primarily Sikhs. In response, Gandhi was assassinated by two of her Sikh bodyguards on October 31, 1984. These events triggered genocidal killings of Sikhs around the country, largely in New Delhi, from Oct. 31 to Nov. 3. 

Armed mobs, largely comprised of Hindu nationalists, burned Sikh-owned stores and homes to the ground; dragged Sikhs out of their houses, cars, and trains, before clubbing them to death or burning them alive; gang-raped Sikh women; and burned Gurdwaras. Law enforcement and government officials participated in the genocide, encouraging mobs to seek vengeance and providing them with weapons. Nearly 3000 Sikhs were murdered within three days, at a rate of one per minute at the peak of the violence. Unofficial death estimates are far higher. The Indian government has yet to take accountability for its role in covering up the identities of the perpetrators, refusing justice—in terms of financial compensation and enfranchisement—for Sikh victims, and allowing state actors to use government resources to systemically identify the locations and occupations of the victims they planned to harm and kill. 

Presently, Sikhs in India continue to face socioeconomic inequality, institutional discrimination in education, employment, and public services, and minimal political representation. The systematic ethnic cleansing of Sikhs persists beyond the confines of India. On June 18, 2023, police forces in British Columbia uncovered the dead body of Hardeep Singh Nijjar, president of a Sikh Gurdwara in Surrey, B.C, peppered with gunshots. The murder came after the Indian government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi had accused Nijjar of being a terrorist and leader of a militant separatist group, as he supported the formation of Khalistan—an independent Sikh state outside of repressive Indian governance. 

On Sept. 19, 2023, Prime Minister Trudeau accused agents of the government of India of being linked to the killing of Najjar, leading to the expulsion of Indian diplomats from Canada. Canada boasts the second-largest Sikh population in the world after India. For members of the World Sikh Organization, Trudeau’s words were revolutionary. 

“Today, the prime minister of Canada has publicly said what Sikhs in Canada have known for decades—India actively targets Sikhs in Canada,” they wrote in a statement on their website on Sept. 18, 2023. 

Sikhism—based on notions that entirely resist social hierarchies based on caste, race, and gender; belief in tolerance and acceptance of other religions; and principles of equality and service to others—has long been seen as a threat to hegemony in India, an order which is maintained based on the caste system, religious divide, and income inequality. Yet, Sikhs have resisted religious and nationalist struggles since the formation of their religion: The Sikh-Mughal Wars, the First Sikh War, their role in the Anti-Emergency Movement, and the Farmers’ Protests in India

Sikhs have continuously advocated for the working class, against secular approaches to religion which marginalize Muslims in India, and have worked to restore democracy in India. Sikhs continue to challenge all forms of domination, despite the ongoing violence they face. Sikhs remind the world that resilience is not just about survival but about striving for a more equitable and inclusive society. Their continuous fight against tyranny proves that the spirit of resistance and revolution cannot be extinguished.

The echoes of war

Yusur Al-Sharqi, Managing Editor

My mom was six years old sitting cross-legged in front of a boxy TV in Baghdad, captivated by bright cartoons and talking animals. For a brief moment, she was immersed in a world that felt safe—but these moments were fleeting. At any time, the screen could go black, replaced by images of lifeless bodies scattered across the street. A journalist’s voice would break the illusion, urging families to come to the city centre to identify and collect their dead. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The horror was not confined to the TV—it came home. In Islam, when somebody dies, family members of the same sex must wash the deceased’s body. I imagine my great-uncle washing his deceased son, his 15-year-old boy, who had a bullet still lodged in his head. 

The boy had made the mistake of driving his pregnant mother, in labour, to the hospital past curfew. The American soldiers who followed them opened fire, shooting through the back window and striking him in the centre of his head. His pregnant mother watched him die. It’s been decades, and his mother still wears black every day. To her, it’s not just a colour of mourning but a silent protest, a refusal to let the memory fade as the world moves on.

They say these are mistakes of the past, tragedies never to happen again, but I don’t believe them. They lie, while families like mine are left to wash the blood from the bodies of those we love. When they talk about peace, I think about the babies of Fallujah, born with deformities after the U.S. dropped white phosphorus bombs on their city during the invasion. I think about the children of Gaza, living and dying under siege. Asking us to remain calm while injustice rages is an act of violence masquerading as righteousness.

When you talk about peace—“bridging the gap”—I wonder if you’ve ever listened to the echoes of war. I’ll tell you myself: we cannot hear you. The bombs are too loud, and the screams drown you out.

I write this not to be cynical, but because I believe that truth-telling is the most important act of defiance. I believe it is a revolutionary act in its own right. It is not that I don’t believe in peaceful revolution—I yearn for it—but I also know it can’t come without a reckoning. A revolution of truth-telling, where the stories of the silenced are finally heard and the weight of the violence we’ve inherited is confronted.

Until then, the images are the same: Lifeless bodies scattered on the street, but now it is my eyes that are glued to the screen. 

/X account, @FDefects, documents cases of severe birth defects seen across Iraq to this day as a result of the U.S.’s white phosphorus bombardments in 2003. The images are extremely graphic and disturbing, but they are many people’s realities. There is evidence of Israel’s use of white phosphorous in Palestine and Lebanon as of 2023.

The Revolution of truth

Alex*, Contributor

If I were asked to write a piece relating Palestine to revolution in the tail-end of 2023, I would have struggled. 

I was a first-year student settling into McGill life on Oct. 7, 2023. Having explored my heritage in the West Bank and the military-dominated city of Jaffa in 2019, I knew that understanding Palestinians as second-class citizens in Israel was a generous characterization. On my travels to Palestine, the day-to-day dehumanization of the population was blatant; Palestinians were herded through checkpoints like livestock while settlers living on hills threw their garbage on low-lying indigenous properties. Accordingly, my travels made it easier for me to fathom the severity of the Palestinian condition in Gaza. Under naval and aerial blockade since 2007 and alienated from the rest of the country by a militarized wall, the 2.2 million residents of Gaza were reliant on Israel alone to meet their essential needs. Thus, struggling with water and food insecurity and shortages of electricity and medical supplies, and exacerbated by intermittent airstrikes, how could I possibly dispute Israeli benevolence in Gaza?

I was hopeful that news outlets in the educated West would interpret Oct. 7 with consideration of the factors which led to it. Unfortunately, the narrative painted by Western media exhibited a convenient case of historical amnesia. In portraying the events of Oct. 7 as an unprovoked attack and disseminating false stories such as those of beheaded infants, news sources began to entrench an international belief in Palestinian inhumanity. Alas, October 2023 was not an easy month to be Palestinian at McGill. 

Nevertheless, the publication of the suffering in Gaza and Southern Lebanon since Oct. 7 has inspired a revolution of truth, or a revelation, in the West. In our current interconnected world, where the reach of social media has no bounds, Israel’s offensive in Gaza has become the most publicly documented genocide in history

Palestinian journalists and photographers, such as Motaz Azaiza, have circumvented having their messages diluted by traditional news sources, instead using social media to counterbalance the Western narrative. In using these platforms, journalists have found an outlet to expose the reality of Israeli aggression for what it is. Graphic videos of fathers finding the lifeless bodies of their children in the rubble, and Israeli aid deliveries exposed to have swapped sugar for sand in Gaza have amassed a captive audience online. Journalistic ingenuity and courage have given me hope and galvanised the revolution I speak of, mostly within the youth.

Alongside most Palestinians, I have been starkly aware that the Israeli government’s disregard for Palestinian livelihood did not begin after Oct. 7. Today I lament the scale of tragedy and destruction it has taken to reignite the empathy of desensitized demographics in the West.

The revelation was illustrated in the 2024 UK General Election where six independent candidates won parliamentary seats, five of whom campaigned resolutely for a firmer government attitude towards Israel. Attending a protest next to the Houses of Parliament the following day, speeches of the victorious candidates restored my hope for a ceasefire and an end to injustice. I was inspired by the words of South African activist and politician Andrew Feinstein, who championed having slashed the majority of newly incumbent Kier Starmer in Holborn and St Pancras. The Prime Minister couldn’t manage 50 per cent of the votes within his own constituency, having had 65 per cent in 2019; he is the first in UK history to enter office having had his vote share reduced from the election before. 

July 5 symbolized the Overton Window shifting in British politics; policies on Palestine can now mobilize the electorate and humanitarian politicians can garner strong enough electoral support to win seats in Westminster. Conversely, public expectation has been challenging weak stances on Palestine, such as that of the government, pressured recently towards compliance with the ICC conviction of Netanyahu

I attribute the shifting public opinion and its political manifestation to a resurgence of morals, urged through the images being shared on social media. Independent journalism is a beacon of hope emerging through the mist of Western mass media shrouding the truth. Regardless of context and retrospective analysis of the situation, humans can agree that no child should be sentenced to death, or a future without education, a home, a family, or freedom. I believe that my mother’s sentiments reflect fundamental human principles: “No people should suffer as we have seen. No one, nowhere in this world should be collected as parts from the ground, after being bombed, starved, and abused.” I truly believe that a revolution of truth is among the Western populace and the youth, gradually diffusing into the formal rungs of society. Change lies just beyond the horizon—whether or not we reach it depends on our commitment.

*Alex’s name has been changed to preserve their anonymity.

Off the Board, Opinion

The case for comprehensive education

When I applied to McGill’s Interfaculty of Arts and Science, I didn’t know what I wanted to major in, but I did know one thing: I was in search of an interdisciplinary education. I didn’t want to stay in the STEM box I had streamlined myself into during my final years of high school. With that goal in mind, I knew I had to push beyond my comfort zone and develop skills I hadn’t fully explored yet. That desire led me to McGill’s interfaculty programs, and eventually to The Tribune

The Bachelor of Arts and Science is a hidden gem at McGill. My peers often ask me, “Wait, that’s a thing?” It’s ironic how overlooked this degree is, given how well it represents what education should be—interdisciplinary. Too often, education feels like a series of narrow boxes—science students stick to labs, and humanities students stick to essays. But the most meaningful learning happens when we cross those boundaries. My experience in this program—and my work at The Tribune—has cemented my belief that all faculties should become interfaculties. 

When I accepted my role as Web Editor for The Tribune, I knew it wouldn’t be a typical tech job consisting of writing HTML and CSS or debugging code. I knew I would have to write—something I never practiced and avoided at all costs because it intimidated me. Writing this article, for example, has involved painfully long hours of staring at a blank Google Doc, battling self-doubt. But I also knew writing would push me to grow, help me understand the importance of communication, and change the way I approach learning. 

While my role focuses on web development, it would be impossible to ignore the larger importance of the stories we publish. What good is a beautifully designed website if the content doesn’t resonate with its readers? That realization made me appreciate writing as a cultivable and important skill. Writing this article has been an exercise in conveying complex ideas clearly and compellingly—a skill as crucial in coding as in journalism. 

Poor communication, I’ve learned, undermines brilliant ideas even in highly regarded fields such as academia. A professor of mine once described the common academic experience of watching a researcher, passionate and technically skilled, lose their audience. They dive straight into formulas and technical details, leaving the room disengaged as they fail to regard the crucial storytelling aspect of their presentation. There is importance in explaining the context behind their scientific research and the journey that led them there. It’s tragic—not just because it’s boring, but because it wastes an opportunity to educate and inspire. Every breakthrough has a story, and if no one tells it, its impact fades. 

This is why comprehensive education matters. In my data science class, I’ve learned that technical skills are only half the equation; the ability to communicate and present findings in a clear, impactful way is just as important. Failure to do so can lead to serious consequences, as misleading or poorly interpreted research can harm public understanding and decision-making. Similarly, medical students spend years mastering clinical skills, but how do they advocate for policy change or connect with patients in their most vulnerable moments? Courses in literature or ethics could help them develop empathy and strengthen their communication skills. The same principle applies across all disciplines. 

When I think about my future, I don’t want to wear a single, isolated label as either a  “science person” or  an “arts person.” I want to create, communicate, and connect; education should foster that adaptability. That’s why I believe every faculty should embrace an interdisciplinary approach, encouraging students to explore modes of expression and learning beyond their comfort zones. Ultimately, education isn’t just about preparing students for specific careers, it’s about preparing them for life. A comprehensive education builds adaptability, empathy, and the ability to connect ideas across fields. These aren’t just workplace skills—they’re human skills. If my time in the Interfaculty of Arts and Science and at The Tribune has taught me anything, it’s that the best learning happens at the intersections of disciplines.

Editorial, Opinion

McGill’s bandaid solutions don’t protect students from bigotry

On Nov. 25, the McGill administration announced an immediate suspension of room bookings for extracurricular speaker events until January, citing “unacceptably high” security risks and the need to protect the school’s academic mission during the exam period. The decision follows recent backlash surrounding the invitation of Mosab Hassan Yousef to speak at McGill. Yousef, a highly controversial figure, has made public statements widely criticized as hateful and Islamophobic, such as stating that he does not have any respect for Muslims, and that he believes that Islam is not a peaceful religion. He has also expressed harmful views about Palestinians, including claiming that Palestinian is not a nationality nor an ethnicity. His past appearances at other universities, such as Princeton, have sparked similar controversy. By asking students to engage in discussions with individuals who dehumanize them, McGill is both insulting and endangering students. 

This pause of in-person events also coincides with recent tensions over UN Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories Francesca Albanese’s academic talk on Nov. 4, where student organizers alleged that the university tried to prevent the event from taking place by relocating it multiple times, while simultaneously facing legal pressure from various campus groups to cancel her appearance entirely. 

However, the recent suspension raises concerns about McGill’s role in perpetuating division on campus. The administration has acted against the outcomes of student elections before, such as preventing the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU)’s adoption of the Palestine Solidarity Policy in April 2022, and it has failed to acknowledge its own contributions to the increasingly hostile campus environment through the increased policing of its students. Rather than creating opportunities for meaningful discussion, McGill’s approach exacerbates the divisions which they claim to want to eradicate, leaving students and student groups in an increasingly polarized environment. Thus, while McGill claims that moving controversial events online might be beneficial in protecting immediate physical security, it fails to address the deeper issues at play. 

McGill’s course of action is symptomatic of a broader issue: The administration’s unwillingness to engage with its community in a productive way. Controversial speakers have historically been a hallmark of university life, but their presence (or enforced absence) now increasingly fractures campus communities rather than fostering considerate dialogue and academic discourse. This is not simply a failure of communication—it reflects McGill’s neglect in creating a campus environment where all voices can be heard. The university’s tendency to prioritize its image over student concerns, as seen in its suppression of protests and lack of thoughtful consultation, has only worsened the situation. Further, participating in the criminalization of student activism undermines the very principles of free expression and open dialogue that universities claim to uphold. 

By staying engaged, students can challenge the false equivalence between platforming free speech and hate speech, taking a firm stand against rhetoric that marginalizes or harms vulnerable groups. SSMU also has a responsibility to represent the voices of those the administration overlooks, including holding firm on their activism against the genocide in Palestine. This is a crucial time to push SSMU to reflect the will of the student majority and advocate for inclusive, democratic practices on campus. Every student has a role in presenting McGill with demands for accountability and justice while maintaining sustained, collective pressure to ensure real change.

Rather than hiding behind a facade of neutrality, McGill must confront the flaws in its decision-making process, particularly its tendency to reactively oppose activities instead of addressing and unpacking the root causes of campus tensions. Neutrality in the face of harmful rhetoric is not impartial—it is a choice that often perpetuates harm and division. Students must hold McGill accountable for moving beyond short-term fixes and urge the university to develop transparent, inclusive policies rooted in empathy and care, instead of simply avoiding conflict through pausing in-person speakers altogether. By involving students—especially those from marginalized groups—in shaping these policies, the administration can ensure that its actions are informed by the community it serves, rather than dictated by external pressures or fears of reputational damage. If McGill truly values academic freedom, it must recognize that freedom thrives in a democratic, inclusive environment and commit to fostering a campus culture that bridges divides rather than deepening them.

Art, Arts & Entertainment

‘Costume Balls: Dressing Up History, 1870-1927’ probes imperial myths behind the glitz

In 1870, Montrealers adorned themselves with velvet and tassels and silk, and then made their way to the ball. Queen Victoria’s son, Prince Arthur—the namesake of rue Prince-Arthur—was visiting the city for the year. No expense was spared; there would be a costumed carnival, and it would be on ice. 400 of the city’s elite spent the evening gliding across the rink at the Victoria Skating Club, drinking, laughing and dancing. Mary, Queen of Scots sailed past Fra Diavolo, fat, fluffy garlands hung from the rafters, the lights were warm, colourful reflections of guests whizzing by made brushstrokes on the ice, and little Hattie Atwater—of the market, library, and station—dressed as “Fanciful Fans,” with two-dozen folding fans attached to her velvet dress, and one more on her head. And there was music—Waldteufel’s “The Skaters’ Waltz.” 

There’s a man in blackface, captured in a painting of the ball. In a portrait from that night, Mr. Reynolds shows off his costume as “Quewaygoosquequamteros,” an invented Indigenous character. He posed for the photo with an axe in his mouth. 

The McCord Stewart Museum’s latest exhibition, Costume Balls: Dressing Up History, 1870-1927, displays over 40 costumes from balls across Canada. Opulent and fantastical, costume balls were the apex of elite society escapism—they were, as a journalist from the Montreal Daily Witness put it, “the very acme of the phantasmagoria of the hour” (or, in the words of a fellow exhibition goer, “une grosse affaire là”).

The exhibition interrogates how the balls, though beautiful, reinforced colonial and imperial mindsets. The costumes invite viewers to be enchanted by elegance, but to ask what stories lie beneath it.

“I wanted us to present an exhibition that really had teeth,” Exhibition Curator Cynthia Cooper said in an interview with The Tribune.

Costume Balls welcomes viewers into the world of the Van Hornes and Atwaters, the Molsons and McConnells. While servants did dress up for the balls, their costumes were largely lost and many went unphotographed.

Moving through the exhibition, you hear the same music the elite danced to over a century ago, sourced from dance programs in newspapers.

“I took all the dance programs to the National Library of Canada, to the sound division, and we looked for early recordings of all these pieces [….] We were able to track down a certain number of them on records, and we made a recording of […] 20 pieces that were actually played,” Cooper said. 

In the last room, the music stops. In 1896, at the Historical Fancy Dress Ball in Ottawa, Hayter Reed, “Deputy Superintendent of Indian Affairs,” led a group of guests dressed as Indigenous caricatures to the centre of the floor, “making loud noises and aggressive gestures.” 

Indian agents”—Canadian government officials sent to reserves to “manage” affairs—stole moccasins, octopus bags, and eagle feathers from Indigenous peoples to adorn the elite for lavish balls. The items were never returned and were often destroyed.

The exhibition confronts viewers with an aesthetic problem: There’s something special in seeing shoes people walked in and dresses they danced in a hundred years ago, to imagine them whirling around the room, alive and bright and brilliant, taken off and worn again. It’s heady—to see century-old photographs, and the costumes right there, stained and worn and human. It seems so real, and so beautiful, but it hides such an ugly colonial reality; gorgeous clothes dressing gruesome ideas.

There’s a blue dress in the penultimate room. Silk with a lace collar and cuffs. Cooper found that between the 1760s and 1789, the dress travelled along the path—Virginia, New York, Shelburne, Quebec City—of one of the earliest Black communities in Canada, providing insight into the lives of those who did not leave garments behind. The sartorial stories behind the pomp persist even after the clothes themselves have been lost, waiting for someone to search, to look, and to listen.

Costume Balls: Dressing Up History, 1870-1927 will run until Aug. 17, 2025. Tickets are available online or in person at the McCord Stewart Museum.

Montreal, News

Protest travels through downtown Montreal on International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People

“Gaza, Gaza, Montréal est avec toi.”

Around two hundred members of the Montreal community gathered in Victoria Square for a protest on Nov. 29, organized by the Palestinian Youth Movement (PYM)’s Montreal chapter, in honour of the International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People. Throughout the demonstration, protestors called on private corporations, the Canadian government, and universities in Montreal complicit in the genocide of Palestinians to cut financial ties with the Israeli state.

In an interview with The Tribune in Victoria Square, a representative from Students for Palestine’s Honour and Resistance (SPHR) at McGill spoke to the way that student activism and wider community activism for Palestine are interrelated as part of the international Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement. This movement aims to financially pressure Israel to comply with international law, targeting a wide range of institutions “from McDonald’s to McGill.”

“It’s very important for students to show solidarity with the wider community, and the wider community to show solidarity with the students, because there’s more power in numbers,” the representative said. “We’re all fighting the same fight, whether that’s divestment from academic institutions or divestment from all the other companies that we’re going to be walking by at this protest.”

One attendee who wished to remain anonymous explained to The Tribune that protests are a way to drive gradual, step-by-step progress towards defunding the Israeli state’s genocide in Gaza.

*“Keeping those protest spaces alive is really important […] so that every time the topic evolves, we can be there and show our political support for those actions,” the attendee said.

Organizers later led protestors into the street and onto rue Sainte-Catherine. Demonstrators walked west through crowds of Black Friday shoppers, calling on onlookers to join the protest in support. Many pedestrians stopped to listen, with some following the protest along the rest of its route.

“We will never normalize what is happening,” a PYM representative said. “If you are hearing these words, you are part of this fight. You are accountable [….] Whether you’ve been with us for decades, or this is your first time joining us, you are part of this struggle, because if you are not with us, it means that you are normalizing what is happening.”

Two Cégep students were among the protest’s attendees. They told The Tribune that they have been supporting the Palestinian cause for over a year, without seeing any progress be made in the demands they are fighting for. The students also expressed disappointment at the investments of numerous universities—such as McGill, Concordia, and Université de Montréal—in companies complicit in Israel’s siege on Gaza, noting that this has also impacted their considerations on where to pursue their university career. 

“I used to be a student who wanted to go to McGill, because it’s known for intelligent students,” one Cégep student said. “But then a very dear friend to me went on a hunger strike to protest the genocide happening. She made [her hunger strike] unlimited because she was confident that no university was going to let their students starve. But McGill was able to prove the opposite. They let her starve. So I took a vow to never go to McGill.”

In a written statement, the McGill Media Relations Office (MRO) explained that the university aims to “remain neutral on geopolitical issues.” However, the MRO stated that McGill upholds community members’ right to freedom of expression, which is also part of the code of Student Rights and Responsibilities.

“We respect the right of students to pursue political objectives and to express their beliefs,” the MRO wrote. “Still, when a small group of students went on a hunger strike early this year, we urged them to put their health and well-being first since those are our priorities.”

The protest ended on the corner of rue Sainte-Catherine O and rue Guy where protestors danced and chanted: “The students united will never be defeated.” Organizers then played Palestine’s national anthem while they circulated a donation box for Palestinian aid. 

A PYM speaker concluded the protest by reminding participants that the movement is far from over. 

“From our banks, Scotiabank, that invest millions of dollars in Israeli weapons systems, our universities like Concordia, that invest in weapons companies, from our pension funds, every part of Canada is complicit in genocide,” they said. “We are here to say that as long as there is genocide, we will continue to take to the streets.”
*This quote has been translated from French.

News, SSMU

SSMU by-election fails to make quorum, results nullified

The Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) closed its executive by-election polls for the Vice-President (VP) Student Life and VP Sustainability and Operations roles on Nov. 29. The by-election voting window was nine days long, starting on Nov. 20. 10.7 per cent of SSMU’s constituency cast a vote, meaning that the vote failed to make the quorum of 15 per cent, leaving the positions remaining vacant.

Justice Bongiovanni and Alice Postovskiy were competing for the VP Student Life position, which was left unfilled after Chloé Muñoz’s resignation on Oct. 29. Bongiovanni, U1 Arts, ran with the campaign slogan, “Vote for change, vote for Justice.” His campaign included proposals to invest $10,000 CAD to help students facing food insecurity and funding more affordable extracurricular courses to teach career development skills. 

Bongiovanni wrote to The Tribune that although he enjoyed being a part of the SSMU electoral process, he found the results of the election disappointing. 

“The fact that the by-election was nullified is a shame for [the] 10.7 per cent of students that took part, and democratically problematic,” Bongiovanni wrote. “However, I want all students to remember that an executive general election is coming relatively soon, despite this situation, and that their voices still count.”

The other candidate, Postovskiy, U3 Arts, ran on a platform that included maintaining SSMU services for students, helping streamline SSMU finances, and improving clarity for student groups on the union’s regulations. 

In a comment to The Tribune, Postovskiy wrote that she believes that SSMU’s Internal Regulations do not outline a quorum for executive by-elections. Postovskiy added that she asked the SSMU Chief Electoral Officer to release the results of the election, but was refused. She plans to bring this issue to the SSMU Judicial Board if the student union does not revert their decision to nullify the election. 

“Beyond just the by-election, this echoes a trend at the SSMU of not taking student democracy seriously,” Postovskiy wrote.“The McGill Student Union Democratization Initiative Policy, passed by referendum in 2021, has not been implemented. There have been various controversies with the SSMU failing to adopt policies passed by referendum, notably last year’s Policy against the Genocide in Palestine [….] It is unfortunately not clear to me what the McGill student body can do to achieve democratic control over its student union.” 

Neither the Internal Regulations nor SSMU’s Constitution specify a specific quorum for executive by-elections. Thus, the question will go to the union’s Judicial Board. SSMU President Dymetri Taylor, wrote to The Tribune that if the Board rules there is no quorum, that could lead to an undermining of student democracy as—in an extreme case—a single voter could determine the outcome of an election.

Kareem El Hosini and Arya Cheuk were competing for the VP Sustainability and Operations role, following Meg Baltes’ announcement that she will be resigning effective Dec. 13. El Hosini (U3 Engineering)’s campaign slogan was “Efficiency. Transparency. Enrichment.” El Hosini promised to improve underused spaces, revitalize McGill’s community garden, and bring more affordable and accessible food to campus.

“I’m disappointed that [people] don’t care enough to vote but I also understand why they don’t. I’ve noticed that [people] typically feel indifferent towards or don’t like [SSMU] in general due to past actions,” wrote El Hosini.

Cheuk, U1 Arts and Science, had a campaign slogan of “Vote Arya for a Greener Area.” Cheuk hoped to improve composting on campus and to encourage clubs to get sustainability certificates. 

In a comment to The Tribune, Cheuk described the election results as anti-climactic. She attributed the low voter turnout to students’ disinterest in student politics and the election’s timing coinciding with finals season. 

“I am happy I had the opportunity to run as a candidate, and that so many had come together to help nominate me in such a short [time]. I am apologetic that I could not materialize their support,” Cheuk wrote. 

Taylor wrote that he was not surprised that the election did not meet quorum, as SSMU has struggled to get high numbers of students to participate in elections, compared to universities such as the University of British Columbia.

“Clubs, services, and other groups that rely on SSMU will experience a slowdown in operations as the tasks [of the vacant positions] are distributed to other executives,” Taylor wrote. “So far, I’ve been working very closely with the services to create a better structure for them and, hopefully, provide them with some financial freedom vis-a-vis the VP of Finance & bank accounts [….] We have chugged along and will continue to do so.”

Behind the Bench, Sports

Karolina Wisniewska and Nikki van Noord speak on women’s leadership in sports in alumni panel

The McGill Women’s Alumnae Association partnered with the McGill Women in Sport Program to host a panel featuring Paralympic Ski Champion Karolina Wisniewska and McGill Assistant Swim Coach Nikki van Noord to speak on their careers in sports, the influence McGill had on their success, and how gender affected their journeys.  

In her first year at McGill, Wisniewska, BA ‘99, made the Canadian Para-Alpine Ski Team and spent the rest of her four years balancing her skiing career with academics. While a student, she became World Champion in Super G and won silver at the 1998 Paralympic Games in Japan. 

“It was very challenging to be on the national team and pursue that [academic] schedule,” Wisniewska said. “I was in my first year, and I’d never been to university or to Montreal, so I was a bit lost. And I just went about it the best way I knew how.” 

She shared that she regrets not asking for help and urged other athletes struggling to learn from her mistake.

Van Noord, M.E. ‘22, is currently pursuing a doctorate in exercise physiology. She swam for five seasons at McGill before joining the coaching staff, where she helped McGill win the 2024 Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec Championships and was selected for the 2024 U SPORTS Female Apprentice Coach Program.

“I came to McGill as a pretty mediocre swimmer,” she said. “Peter [Carpenter] will admit to me now that I was the last pick the first year of my McGill career […] him taking that chance on me is, fundamentally, what’s changed my entire life [….] Sometimes all you need is one person believing in you and seeing your potential when you don’t see it in yourself; that’s something I can only hope to be for [other] athletes.” 

When the speakers were asked how their gender impacted their experience in sports, van Noord described her evolving goals.  

“I’m hoping that [leadership positions] can be something that not just women are a part of, that we can build it and have a more equal showing,” she said. “And part of that as an athlete is becoming captain of the team or trying to strive for a leadership role. This led me to be like, ‘Well now in this leadership role, there’s only so much that I can do. What can I do next?’ And that next step was becoming a coach. Now I’m like, ‘Well, now that I’m this woman and coaching, what can I do now?’” 

She concluded her response by reiterating that she hopes she can help inspire even just one athlete, and Wisniewska caught her with an important correction. 

“You keep saying, ‘Maybe I’ll hopefully touch one person’s life.’ Stop it. Everybody who is female in this room, just stop that ‘Oh maybe one person,’” she said. “[Instead say,] ‘Yes. I’m going to impact a lot of people’s lives for the better.’”  

This moment was a significant one that audience members and Martlet Soccer players Aaliyah Kamdar, U2 Arts, and Alexandra Hughes-Goyette, a Master’s student in science, highlighted.  

“Imposter syndrome is a thing a lot of women experience. So just hearing these successful women talk about that today really helps with how to deal with it,” Kamdar shared.  

“It validates those feelings, to know that I’m not the only one who feels that way in those settings,” Hughes-Goyette added.  

As a final question, the panellists were asked to share advice for young women athletes. Van Noord underlined the importance of passion and leadership when playing a sport or coaching one, emphasizing that inherent talent is not in the criteria for success in coaching. Wisniewska also highlighted the importance of hard work. 

“I was never the best skier because I was born disabled […] until you have the results […] until I see how you’re skiing, or how you treat your teammates and your coaches, that’s what counts,” Winiewska said. “Just shut up and get to work. That’s the point. Do the work, put in the time. You will get the results.” 

Local Stories, Student Life

Social media signalling isn’t enough

In the wake of the U.S. election, my social media feed was flooded with reactions. Old classmates from my New Jersey high school shared Instagram Stories condemning Donald Trump, highlighting allegations against him, and denouncing his voters. These posts were swift and impassioned: An immediate outpouring of anger and grief. Yet, within 48 hours, the fervour had all but disappeared. No links to community organizations, no resources to turn outrage into action—just a digital silence.

This isn’t to say that social media activism lacks value. Social media is an incredible tool for spreading information, especially in moments of crisis. It can amplify marginalized voices, expose injustices, and mobilize movements. In 2020, the Black Lives Matter movement was fueled by the virality of posts educating people about systemic racism, police violence, and ways to support Black communities. Digital networks can be a powerful tool to galvanize the activism process. In community organizing, this notion is known as the ladder of engagement, where more and more people are encouraged by their peers to take on progressively greater action in pursuit of a goal. Social media is a new digital rung on the ladder that’s easier to reach than many offline alternatives. Additionally, platforms like Instagram and Xhelp shed light on conflicts and catastrophes that mainstream media often overlook. 

Cecilia Eu-ahsunthornwattana, U1 Arts, shared their thoughts on the role social media can play in spreading awareness.

“I learnt about a lot of causes or social issues that I wouldn’t have even heard about through social media,” Eu-ahsunthornwattana wrote to The Tribune. “A lot of them are subjects that I’m now more educated in and see the importance of, from hearing personal stories of other people and doing extra research.”

“There has never been a time before where information could be so wide spread, and I think being able to share on social media gets a population that may not have been educated on subjects involved,” wrote a student who wished to remain anonymous.

But there’s a darker side to this: Are we using social media to inform and create action, or are we simply signalling our moral alignment? After the election, many posts felt less like calls to action and more like declarations of group identity. Sharing a story condemning Trump wasn’t just about what the post said—it was about what it meant. These posts functioned as social signifiers, telling followers, I’m one of the good guys. I’m on your side.

This phenomenon isn’t unique to elections. Story posts often serve as a form of performative activism—symbolic gestures that communicate outrage or solidarity without necessarily leading to tangible change. A person might share an infographic or photograph but stop short of donating, volunteering, or organizing. 

The issue lies in the echo chamber of social media. We create online communities with people and perspectives that align with our own. When we post about activism, it’s likely that much of our audience already agrees with us. 

Soffia Gaw, U2 Arts, talked about the purpose of reposting in a written statement to The Tribune

“Rarely do I see a reposted political story not meant to display an overt message that is on behalf of the person reposting. I think those who repost aim to create greater knowledge for their audience while also re-establishing their position on the issue.”

Sharing a post is easy; taking meaningful action is harder. It takes more effort to attend a protest, contact elected officials, or engage in community organizing than it is to tap “share” on an infographic. This isn’t to diminish the importance of raising awareness—education is a critical first step in any movement. But if awareness isn’t followed by such efforts, what’s the point?

Activism requires more than just visibility—it requires action. Sharing a story is a start, but it shouldn’t be the end. 

Campus Spotlight, Student Life

Queer McGill’s drag night defies traditional drag categories

“Whenever you put on a lash, it’s not just for fun, it’s resistance.” These were the opening words from host Rosa Golde at Queer McGill’s annual amateur drag night on Nov. 28. On the pulsing dancefloor of Cabaret Berlin, eight up-and-coming performers gave their all to deliver a show for the ages. From political satire to burlesque, the drag artists pushed the boundaries of traditional “drag king” and “drag queen” categories, showcasing a new wave of avant-garde stars looking to break down and transcend binaries. 

Self-proclaimed “drag thing,” Pandora’s Box Muncher, U3 Arts and Science, debuted at a Queer McGill drag show in 2022. Their act combined theatre and cinema in an eclectic live rendition of Barbra Streisand’s “I’m the Greatest Star” from Funny Girl and Pearl’s monologue from Pearl (2022)

“In this colonial, imperialist, white supremacist culture, [drag] is something that’s suppressed. Drag at the fringes—like less mainstream [than] RuPaul’s Drag Race drag—is important in pushing back,” they told The Tribune, speaking on the political importance of drag. 

In another act, Tall Graycie embodied this sentiment in their identity as a “drag creature.”

Pandora’s Box Muncher commented on the importance of a student group such as Queer McGill hosting a drag night. 

“I have met five people tonight who are telling me it’s their first drag show and that in itself is important,” they said. “Promoting drag in places where it’s not usually promoted allows more awareness.” 

Indeed, as Rosa Golde and co-host Augusta Wind asked how many people in the crowd were “popping their drag show cherry” that night, many people cheered and raised their hands. The energy in the room was electric, with the audience unprepared for what was to come. Notably, the acts varied widely from each other; the night was a mix of traditional lip-sync dances, instrumental numbers, and live singing performances.

“We not only want and need designated spaces in order to thrive and succeed but we want to have fun and memorable experiences,” Valeria Munoz, a Master’s student in Educational Leadership and one of Queer McGill’s Events Coordinators, shared in a written statement to The Tribune. “We must push boundaries and go beyond comfort zones […] We think it’s a valuable opportunity to use our platform to foster connections within the McGill and Montreal community.” 

In keeping with this mission, Queer McGill hosts various events such as movie screenings, queer orientations for incoming students, and ballroom workshops—an underground queer subculture of competitive performance invented by the first person known to describe himself as a drag queen, William Dorsey Swann.

Overall, the reception of the drag night was spectacular. The performers shared how encouraging and supportive everyone was; they expressed thanks to the staff of the venue, the Queer McGill executives, and the crowd themselves. 

“This event was truly an astounding success. [Event Coordinators] Anushka Manoj and Valeria Munoz’s teamwork and coordination skills were reflected in the way they singlehandedly contacted the venue [and] performers, and did the marketing/promotion of the event,” the Queer McGill events team shared in a written statement to The Tribune. “Between all of these moving parts and the anxiety built up right before doors opened, I’m impressed with ourselves and couldn’t be happier.”

Evidently, there was no need to worry. The team delivered an amazing show that highlighted the evolving landscape of drag arts. Furthermore, they reaffirmed the need to provide outlets for new creatives and to expose more students on campus to queer culture and history. Overall, Queer McGill’s amateur drag night exemplified the importance of being your authentic self and how the gender revolution will be led by drag artists.

Art, Arts & Entertainment

‘Witches: Out of the Shadows’ demystifies the resilient witch

The final room of Witches: Out of the Shadows is one of the most powerful exhibition endings I have ever witnessed. Kiki Smith’s bronze sculpture Woman on Pyre lies atop the centre pedestal, engulfed by a circular structure of distorted, geometric mirrors; it confronts the senses, inviting viewers to witness an execution scene frozen in time by its cast medium. Just because a pinprick drew no blood, the figure now kneels atop serrated logs that gnaw at her legs’ flesh, tearing through her barren form that helplessly pleads for mercy. At first glance, one could ask how a woman so vilified by the public as a violent figure hunches over in desolate surrender to her fate, but the motion of her outstretched arms beckoning for a final sliver of forgiveness takes the shape of a spirited resistance. She rises from her damnation as an accused witch, asserting resilience and fortitude even in death. Smith’s work bears witness to these silenced narratives of the demarcated witch, capturing the essence of this spirited exhibition.

Pointe-à-Callière’s exhibition Witches: Out of the Shadows considers the witch both as a historical construct rooted in sexism, and as a contemporary popular symbol of combined strength and folly. With its wondrous collection of diverse objects—scientific manuscripts, ritual accompaniments, tarot cards, and couture fashion, and more—the exhibit beautifully depicts the continuously remoulded perception of this mystical being. The jewel tones that cascade down from the walls accentuate witchcraft’s artistic nature, reasserting the ephemeral beauty of these historical items.

The exhibition begins with the genesis of the witch as a religious symbol of the blasphemous unknown and heretical magic. It then investigates its subsequent transformation into a secular vision of women’s disobedience in the Middle Ages as a perceived threat to the man-dominated sphere of science. Portrayed through manuscripts, medieval woodcuts, and manuals for witch elimination, the room artfully curates a glimpse into the world of intense paranoia of women’s power. Anything unknown to man, such as the woman-dominated world of natural healing and midwifery, would be deemed “otherworldly” and therefore indicative of wicked intentions. We see the torture devices reserved for these so-called witches, and are forced to face this appalling history of subjugating women’s bodies to physical torture for scientific excellence.

Moving from room to room, the exhibit masterfully balances examples of women’s suffering with feminist reclamations of this violently circumscribed label. A dress by Alexander McQueen, titled In Memory of Elizabeth Howe, Salem, 1692, comments on the culture of traditional women’s practices, like textile design, and the use of structured garments as a form of armour. The piece builds off the hardships of ancestors to strengthen tenacity in a modern age where blatant inequalities still exist. Flanked by a 17th-century painting of the Salem Witch Trials and a tranquil video installation about witchcraft, the couture garment’s unexpected inclusion highlights this continuous presence of the feminine subject, not as victims but as demystified beings of enduring force.

The upper floor covers the dissemination of the “witch” into popular culture via urban legends, otherworldly games, and a process of spiritual protection through physical guidance. On display are antique Ouija boards, hand-painted tarot cards, religious amulets, and other modes of metaphysical connection. Projected onto the installation’s walls, the witch has taken shape across mediums as a misunderstood, beautified being who tirelessly revolts against hardship—and through power, reclaims her agency. Witches: Out of the Shadows brings light to this levelling of the perceived “cultural witch,” reminding attendees of the lengthy history of systemic expulsion and the subsequent revolution of the feminine spirit.

Witches: Out of the Shadows runs until Apr. 6, 2025. Tickets are available online or in person at Pointe-à-Callière.

Read the latest issue

Read the latest issue