Latest News

Behind the Bench, Sports

No more settling for mediocre soccer

Canada and the United States are often criticized for their lack of soccer culture. Though some cities’ enthusiasm shows that the two countries’ soccer culture is alive and well, the city-concentrated support for Major League Soccer (MLS) and National Women’s Soccer League (NWSL) teams is not as pervasive as it could be. 

Unlike most successful soccer leagues, Canadian and American leagues—including the MLS and the NWSL—do not have a system of promotion and relegation. Systems of promotion and relegation typically consist of three or four leagues organized according to strength: The top league is where the strongest teams play, the middle league where average teams play, and the bottom league where the lowest-performing teams compete for a chance to advance. Top finishers of lower-tier leagues are promoted to the next-highest level for the following season, while bottom finishers are demoted to the league immediately below their own. 

If North American soccer culture wants to continue to grow its fanbase, it must implement relegation. Without this system in place, teams drop off to an uncompetitive level of soccer as the top spots in the league become unattainable. Low-performing teams become comfortable with knowing that they will remain in their league with guaranteed access to the financial benefits of playing at the top tier. 

Implementing a system of promotion and relegation eliminates that sense of security. Cincinnati FC, for example, was dead last in the MLS Eastern Conference for three consecutive years, facing few consequences—except the disappointment of their fans—for their consistent abysmal performance. The Houston Dynamo has been the Western Conference’s equivalent to Cincinnati, having placed in the bottom three every year since 2019. Although every team naturally wants to win, teams become complacent when there is no sense of urgency, or incentive, to improve. The threat of relegation would put pressure on teams to maintain a competitive level throughout the entire season because too low of a finish could warrant demotion. 

The prospect of promotion, on the other hand, would be an excellent motivator. Teams in lower-ranked European leagues still have heavily invested fanbases who remain invested throughout the season because winning records in lower leagues could actually move them up. To fans of bottom-of-the-table teams, relegation drama can have the same allure as title-race drama. This highly contentious aspect of European soccer is why so many Canadian and American fans opt to support an overseas team instead of an MLS or NWSL team.

The NWSL does not currently have an affiliated second-tier league, but is in the process of planning for one. Introducing a relegation system could complement the new league and would likely propel the growth of women’s soccer, with fans getting to experience the highs and lows that come with the risk of demotion and the prospect of promotion. 

However, men’s soccer in Canada and the U.S. already has a multi-tiered system, with the United Soccer League (USL) as well as USL League One and League Two sitting under the MLS. So, implementing promotion and relegation shouldn’t be a difficult task. Several USL teams already have thriving fan bases that will continue to grow if the more successful teams have the chance to get promoted to the MLS.

Despite concerns regarding poor USL teams’ ability to compete, performances at the yearly Open Cup, a tournament where MLS and USL teams face off, prove otherwise. Last year’s Open Cup in particular showcased the USL talent, with several teams taking down their MLS opponents to advance to later rounds. 

Promotion and relegation will give newly-promoted teams a chance to compete for the top spots in the MLS—just like how the English team Leicester went from being a second-division team to winning the Premier League in less than five years. The MLS and the NWSL must implement promotion and relegation if they hope to recreate spectacles and capture sustained interest from fans. Everyone loves a good underdog story, so let’s create some in North American soccer.

A previous version of this article stated that the Houston Dynamo came in last place every year since 2019. In fact, they placed in the bottom three over this time period. The Tribune regrets this error.

Campus Spotlight, Student Life

What is good sex to you?

When it was announced that a two-time Fulbright-winning Harvard-PhD professor from the University of Alabama was coming to speak at McGill about her new book, most students probably weren’t expecting it to be titled Good Sex

But when professor of gender and cultural studies Catherine Roach visited McGill on March 14 to speak on a panel about the book, she was greeted with a room of very interested students and faculty.

“Good sex is good as in ethical, and good as in pleasurable,” Roach said to open up the discussion. 

Her book, which she actually finished writing while on a fellowship here, covers five “manisextos” for how to change the norms around sex as part of the new gender and sexual revolution, including positive sexuality, equity and inclusion, body positivity, consent, and mutual pleasure.

The panel featured three students from McGill’s Gender, Sexuality, Feminist, and Social Justice (GSFS) program—Ashna Naidoo (U2), Céleste Pépin (U2), and Juliet Morrison* (U2)—who each shared their views of the book. 

Naidoo discussed the hookup culture on campus and how gender norms not only create a double standard but make sex positivity impossible for all students. 

“Women who partake in [hookup culture] are seen as promiscuous, […] men as commendable or honourable,” Naidoo said. 

She also expanded on the challenges that racialized individuals face in partaking in sex positivity under Eurocentric beauty standards.

“The binary convention of what it means to be conventionally attractive in [a] university of tall, skinny, and white […] perpetuates exoticism for anyone existing outside of this,” Naidoo explained. 

Roach’s book covers many of the risks bad sex entails. “As we screw around, sex can screw us up,” she writes.

For panellist  Pépin, one of these risk factors is many individuals’ lack of self-awareness and inability to question their intimate preferences. 

“We also need to stop for a second and think about what our fantasies might mean to us […] I’m submissive, I’m dominant, but why do you feel like that?” Pépin said.

According to Roach, so much of sex is based on gendered scripts that circulate and embed patriarchy through pornography and social media. These norms also factor into conversations surrounding consent.

“Full consent [arises] out of egalitarian gender norms,” Roach said. 

According to all three panellists, the book’s accessibility makes it all the more enjoyable. Roach collected various images, sidebars, and quotes from students at the University of Alabama, making the academic content much more legible.

During the panel, Roach and the students discussed the newly re-released McGill “It Takes All of Us” training module. The attending students also had a lot to say on the matter. 

“We can have these great conversations as students here at McGill, but is the administration actually going to take it into account?” said audience member Gabriela Toharia, U1 Arts.

This comes after multiple student groups, including Sex and Self and the Union for Gender Empowerment, expressed their disappointment in a lack of consultation in the program’s redevelopment, with many questioning how a module for improving the norms around sex can be successful without first consulting with students about what those norms are.

In addition to frustration towards the state of sexual health and safety on campus, there was also a resounding hopefulness in the room, with students and staff wanting to improve both the quantity and quality of sexual education opportunities at McGill.

“What are ways in which we can push for more of this education? We need accessibility to those courses and to that education,” said Dominique Magleo, U1 Arts.

“We need to make education so much more fun and accessible, like this book!” said Pépin, adding that “the sexual and gender revolution is for everyone.”

Roach seemed impressed with students’ passion and engagement. She hopes that this book will create conversation about these important topics, and lead them in a positive direction.

“Sex should do good, and feel good.”

If you’re looking to learn about what’s going on with your sex life, have a read of Roach’s new book, Good Sex, on sale at Le Paragraphe, or online.
*Morrison is currently a News Editor at The McGill Tribune and was not involved in the publication of this article.

Student Life, The Viewpoint

Food Q&A: Surviving lunch at McGill

Campus food. It’s what everyone’s talking about. High prices, insufficient options, and food quality to rival the mouldy scraps in the back of your freezer. I dread to think what Gordon Ramsay would do if he ever got the McGill Food and Dining Services team by the collar, but I can’t lie, I’d be jolly pleased if he did. 

The campaigns are coming in fast now. Let’s Eat McGill’s community assemblies and student protests are leading the charge to shed light on the food insecurity crisis at McGill. But despite students’ best efforts so far, the university is working at a snail’s pace. Campus food accessibility and quality have not improved. So, since they’re uninterested in addressing this problem sufficiently and quickly, we have a pressing issue: What’s for lunch? 

Here are some affordable options to get you through the day. 

Super Savings ($0-3) 

Midnight Kitchen

Midnight Kitchen, a non-profit volunteer collective, is back and on a mission to increase the accessibility of campus food. Operating out of the second floor of the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) building, the student-funded service provides free vegan meals.

And look, I’ve had my fair share of bad vegan food; most are not worth a side eye, but hand on heart, Midnight Kitchen is worth your time. Free, simple, sustainable food that fills you up—take notes, McGill. 

It’s only operating two or three times a month at the moment, as it’s underfunded, but when it is serving, be sure to get there well before 1:00 p.m. because the line will snake fast. 

Homemade sandwiches with ingredients from local grocery stores

Sometimes nothing beats a homemade sandwich. It’s also a smart idea when it comes to lunch-time savings, and when it comes to price, it’s a hard sell to beat Segal’s on St. Laurent for consistent cost savings. 

My advice? Keep it simple. Stick with sandwiches or salads, and let the creative juices flow for dinner. Grilled ham and cheese or a Caesar salad play well for the school day. For me, I like to take inspiration from Marco Pierre White: Sourdough, shallots, anchovies, butter, parsley, and dish-dash-dosh, sorted. You can also mix and match your ingredients with other independent stores. Fruiterie du Plateau, for example, in the Plateau offers cheap, fresh fruit.

Lunch on the go ($4-6)

Super Sandwich

It’s one of our own, as we say. I’ve heard some talk recently that McGill should buy it or allow it to move on-campus. Don’t forget that it’s so super because McGill has precisely nothing to do with it. That and the fresh sandwiches—made in front of you faster than your eyes can blink, and for prices that don’t make you rethink. 

Tim Hortons

Tim Hortons on Sherbrooke troubles me. Not in terms of price, quality, or anything in between, but the waiting in the 20-minute desolate line. I find myself fading in and out of reality, lost. Thankfully, Tim’s $4.99 roast beef and crispy onion and  $5.99 BLT brings me back to reality. And, as it’s just across from campus, it’s a great lunch on the go.

Nearby deals 

Metro hot food counter deals

It might seem counterintuitive to say that McGill students should support Metro, which is perhaps one of the main culprits of the latest food price spikes, but their hot food counter on Parc has some great deals, from a $5.29 chicken leg meal on Monday to $4.99 poutine on Thursdays. Portion sizes are also not for the faint of heart, either. 

Sansalizza

Another deal to consider is up Parc Ave: Sansazzlia’s special of the day––a different nine-inch pizza every day for $6.90. Sansalizza is opposite New Residence, but don’t fret about running into first years—they only go at midnight when they’re listening to Drake, high as a kite. 

A short stroll away 

Café Aunja

I’ve mentioned this before in a café recommendations article, but it’s still worth bringing up: An Iranian café-lunch spot on Sherbrooke, a few steps down from street level, offering a range of sandwiches and brunch bites, as well as coffee and herbal tea. 

News, PGSS

PGSS executives debate restructuring responsibilities to ease workload

The Post-Graduate Students’ Society (PGSS) held its 2022-2023 Winter General Assembly at Thomson House on March 15. Although there were no binding votes or motions passed, attendees discussed the status of the Library Improvement Fund, the potential installation of air-filtration devices across campus, and a restructuring of the PGSS itself.

To start the meeting, Hossein Poorhemati, the current PGSS University Affairs Officer, gave updates on the Library Improvement Fund and addressed concerns about the potentially dwindling library space due to planned construction on the McLennan-Redpath complex as part of the Fiat Lux project. The fund is a recent PGSS project that offers gift cards to students with the best library improvement ideas—PGSS then attempts to implement those suggestions by bringing them to the McGill Library and investing in projects. 

“This construction is taking a lot of resources from the library, so we’re not getting timely responses from the library,” Poorhemati said. “As for the many concerns members have of library space, the library says actual construction will be in two to three years, so there won’t be any issues anytime soon.”

According to the McGill Reporter, construction is set to begin in early 2024.

Following the update, Hannah Derue, a master’s student in neuroscience, brought up the possibility of implementing a small air-filtration Corsi-Rosenthal Box in every Post-Graduate Student Association (PGSA) office, which would cost $5,000 in total. 

“Up to 10-12 per cent of COVID cases become long COVID, so this is something relevant to everybody,” Derue said. “But it is especially significant to make a point that this is also an inclusivity and accessibility problem because COVID impacts certain groups more than others, including our immunocompromised and high-risk demographics, who are members of the PGSS community just like everybody else.”  

The discussion then shifted to Kristi Kouchakji, the PGSS Secretary-General, who wanted to discuss potential changes to PGSS executive titles, such as changing “Secretary-General” to “Internal Governance Officer,” and restructuring committee responsibilities within the next year or two. These changes would hopefully create titles that better represent executives’ responsibilities and curtail executives’ heavy and unmanageable workloads

Poorhemati, however, was doubtful of the proposed restructuring’s timeline.  

“Making these many changes in one or even two years would make it almost certain that PGSS would almost collapse [….] my concern is how quick and fast, and maybe some things that work should be left alone,” Poorhemati said. “Focus should be more on students and student problems, and not necessarily about PGSS and PGSS problems. There is a delicate balance between these two and an unclear line here.”

Kouchakji responded that the divide between student and PGSS problems is precisely what needs to be better defined in the roles of different executive positions.

“PGSS is going to collapse a heck of a lot faster if we don’t start addressing some of these issues. Like it’s becoming an access issue. It’s becoming an equity issue. It’s becoming [an] inclusivity issue,” Kouchakji said. “To continue to say, we’re going to expect […] five [executives] to work more hours than they’re being paid for and two of them to work double if not triple the hours they’re being paid for, I don’t think that that’s necessarily a healthy and productive way for us to continue doing things.” 

Moment of the Meeting:

Although there seemed to be general support for Kouchakji’s revamping proposal, a non-binding straw poll revealed that only eight per cent of attendees wanted to be a part of the committee working on the proposal if the motion passes—50 per cent of attendees voted no, and the other 38 per cent said maybe. 

Soundbite:

“I love unions. I think everyone should belong to a union. I think that’s extremely difficult to implement here because half of us are elected and the other half are appointed.”

— Kristi Kouchakji on the difficulties of unionizing PGSS employees 

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘You’ delivers trashy thrills upon British relocation

Hello, you” begins the internal monologues of You protagonist Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley), accompanying the moment the stalker-murderer fixates on yet another love interest. On its fourth outing, the show inverts this setup: Having fled the U.S. following season three’s calamitous climax—in which he murdered his wife Love (Victoria Pedretti) and abandoned his son—Joe finds himself in London, in the hunt for his obsession, librarian Marienne (Tati Gabrielle). He’s landed himself a new identity as “Jonathan Moore,” a cushy job as an English literature professor, and ingratiation within a group of urban elites. However, the arrival of a mysterious “eat-the-rich”  killer, who begins picking off the group’s members, threatens Joe’s serene old-world excursions. When the killer starts stalking and framing Joe, they assume the mantle of “you,” becoming the subject of his monologues as a gripping game of cat and mouse ensues. 

The hallmarks that made You such an enticing show are still present this time ‘round, but they feel diluted. Once again, Joe only partially obfuscates the sinister and predatory nature of his pursuit of a new romantic interest, socialite and art gallery manager Kate Galvin (Charlotte Ritchie), encouraging the audience to indulge in the knotty moral ambiguity of his viewpoint. Badgley’s performance continues to successfully mine the discomfort induced by Joe’s combination of superficial charm and monstrous actions. However, the chemistry between the two leads often feels forced. This is compounded by the scattergun writing of Ritchie’s character, whose cold exterior gives way to infatuation in sporadic moments largely brought on only when the plot demands it. 

You continues its penchant for satirizing the privileged, using their ridiculousness to provide levity from the more murderous moments. Joe’s faux-intellectualist narrative voice has taken great pleasure in ridiculing New York literary elites, L.A. influencers, and wealthy suburban picket-fence dwellers in past seasons. Season four aims squarely at Britain’s class hierarchy, with the killer embodying this anti-elitism. The new characters, from aristocratic toffs with family crests and country estates to foreign royalty and trust-fund babies, each behave as caricatures of greed whom Joe takes quiet pleasure in deriding. 

You’s class messaging shies away from the overtly political, and has always remained secondary to its plot—no one would mistake its earlier seasons for a Bong Joon-Ho film. That said, its targets in England are stereotypes of such cartoonishly exaggerated proportions that it becomes hard for the satire to land. No character better exemplifies this than aristocrat Roald Walker-Burton (Ben Wiggins) who, during a country retreat, proclaims, rifle-in-hand and without a trace of irony, “I’m going peasant hunting.” 

What the show lacks in nuance,  You still delivers in leaps and bounds of unencumbered thrills. As the season progresses, a series of bolder plot twists ensue—murders, kidnappings, and blackmail pile up while Joe faces the threat, or promise, of justice. These developments are irresistibly compelling, fixating the audience on guessing Joe’s next manoeuvre as various mysteries unravel. Admittedly, the high stakes in these moments ask the audience to suspend reasonable disbelief, and more often than not, depend on events that toe the line between being merely outlandish and outright plot holes. This is not to mention the horrendous writer’s-room-psychology underpinning the presentation of Joe as a sufferer of mental illness, drawing more from popular film tropes than any real medical information. 

Nevertheless, amidst the adrenaline of the chase, these weaknesses don’t detract an awful lot from the viewing experience. In its trashiness, You was never built upon a precise or profound depiction of obsession, mental illness, or criminality. Rather, much like Joe’s own literary rhetoric, these themes cloak what was always a more simplistic show built on raw entertainment, unashamedly stimulating audiences’ fascination with the grim and gory. By this more modest metric, You’s fourth season delivers emphatically upon its mission. 

You Season 4 (Part 1 + Part 2) is streaming now on Netflix.

McGill, News

Post-referendum debate erupts among LSA members over lack of clarity and implications of constitutional amendments

After a brief campaign and voting period, the McGill Law Students Association (LSA) announced on March 14 that a change requiring a supermajority—two-thirds of voters—to pass a strike was rejected. Despite the referendum question’s failure to pass, many students are still confused about the implications of the constitutional amendment and are calling for increased transparency from the LSA. 

The question that sparked the most debate among students asked whether voters “agreed to amend the LSA Constitution and Bylaws,” but provided no other details about the amendment and instead directed students to an edited version of the LSA constitution included in a past email. The proposed change to the constitution was that a vote to strike would require a two-thirds majority to pass—ultimately making it harder for students to strike.

Chloe Rourke, a 3L student, found the lack of reference documents linked in the referendum ballot to be particularly odd, considering the referendum questions were extremely brief.

“I’ve never seen a referendum question that referenced a document in an email,” Rourke told The McGill Tribune. “As much as possible, you try and indicate what the substantive changes are in the question [….] I think it’s really important that those are properly contextualized and that that decision be made transparently, that everyone would know what they’re voting for.”

According to an email obtained by the Tribune sent by the LSA Chief Reporting Officer and Deputy Returning Officer to all LSA members, the platform used for voting, SimplyVoting, did not allow the LSA to link to more information on the ballot itself. Emma Linzmayer, the Arts Undergraduate Society Chief Electoral Officer, explained that linking in a referendum question is an uncommon practice, if even possible, that she has not had to deal with. 

“With the pen sketches, each candidate gets 100 words […] it’s about keeping the attention of the voters,” Linzmayer wrote. “So [with] referendum questions […] we just input the question and ask voters yes/no [….] With links, it’s not very explicit in [some] electoral bylaws, but since the word count is so strict, it would be unfair to give some [questions] more persuasion power while others wouldn’t even consider it.”

The move to increase the number of students needed to pass a strike vote stemmed from the LSA strike in early 2022 in protest of the lack of accommodations for students during the Omicron wave of the COVID-19 pandemic. Some students were unhappy that a strike was initiated with only a small majority of students—56.6 per cent—supporting the action.

“Over the course of the strike […] and in its aftermath, the LSA conducted substantial consultations [in 2022]—not only among the general student body, but also specifically with students in classes affected by the targeted strike,” LSA President Charlotte Sullivan wrote in an email to the Tribune. “We received a significant number of messages from students advising us that they were upset and defeated by the small margin by which the strike vote had passed.”

Sullivan also disclosed that many students in the classes affected by the strike decided to cross the picket line because they felt that there was not enough support from law students personally affected by the strike to warrant one.

Law students were also taken aback by the short timeframe of this semester’s referendum. On the evening of March 1, students received an email stating that the campaign period would open on March 6 and close on March 9. Anyone wishing to form an official “No” committee—an official group campaigning for a no vote—had to notify the LSA CRO by March 5. 

The LSA was supposed to run this referendum question about the supermajority amendment in 2022, but scheduling issues led to it being postponed. Sullivan noted that because consultations occurred last year, the LSA did not explicitly publish about the changes because nothing was altered from what was to be presented in 2022.


“I don’t think the process was deliberatel non-transparent at all, and we remained available between the publication of the constitutional amendments package and the beginning of voting to answer any questions about it,” Sullivan wrote. “With that being said, if I could change things now, I would have publicized the content of these amendments prior to the beginning of the campaign period.”

Commentary, Opinion

Don’t bet on Montreal’s new casino

Loto-Québec recently announced its plan to install a mini-casino in the old 1909 Taverne Moderne, a three-storey building adjacent to the Bell Centre in downtown Montreal. The casino would include hundreds of slot machines, sports gambling terminals, and several poker tables.

Jean-François Bergeron, the CEO of Loto-Québec, has stated that the casino’s main clientele would be sports fans visiting the Bell Centre, without being exclusive to this demographic.  Several problems arise with such easy access to gambling, with the psychological and socioeconomic impacts being the most troubling. With such ease of accessibility, vulnerable people in Montreal as a whole are more likely to be lured in at the expense of their finances and health. 

Slot machines are some of the most dangerous gambling devices to get hooked on. Specifically designed to addict the user, the bright array of contrasting lights and noises grab one’s attention—and their pocketbooks. Like other forms of gambling, slot machines produce a “variable reinforcement schedule,” whereby the unpredictability of a win causes a person to keep gambling, driven by the hope that the next attempt might be the winning one. And for the over 300,000 Canadians at severe or moderate risk of a gambling addiction, this proposition has a predictable conclusion––disastrous mental and financial repercussions. 

Health officials and government officials have not bought into Loto’s stance and are aware of the risk that gambling poses to lower-income and racialized populations—in Canada, the practice disproportionately affects Indigenous people who partake in particular. While there may be incentives for a new casino to increase the government’s tax revenue, the mental and financial health of the city’s residents must come first, Finance Minister Eric Girard, stated. He also noted that while a casino would help bring in revenue, public health officials should approve it first and ensure that the new casino’s benefits aren’t overtaken by its harmful effects. 

Some Indigenous belief systems stem from gambling’s original purpose to form community and redistribute wealth, contributing to an increase in Indigenous peoples’ vulnerability to gambling addiction. When white European settlers colonized the Americas, gambling became an integral part of culture in North America as they commercialized it. The establishment of a mini-casino exploiting vulnerable populations for their revenue stream would only perpetuate colonialism, especially when considering how the housing crisis disproportionately targets Indigenous peoples in Montreal. 

Companies are aware of these structural factors and weaponize it to target the bottom line, through predatory gambling—the use of gambling to prey on psychological human weaknesses. Often, companies will exploit low-income communities with selective advertising. While the Quebec government promises to reinvest their earnings from gambling into education or other public necessities, history shows that this claim cannot be taken at face value. In the case of the lottery, winnings often do not come from the communities in which they are bought, while their funds are used to supplement a bigger budget. 

While a mini-casino would have an outsized harm on those vulnerable to its predation, the provincial government has a high incentive to approve such projects to benefit from a massive growth in their tax collection. The Montreal Casino paid $1.3 billion in taxes to the Quebec government in the 2017-2018 fiscal year. Yet, political parties such as Québec solidaire have opposed the project, stating that slot machines and instruments of gambling are not needed in such an area where there is already a wealth of economic activity. 

While initially, a casino might become an economic boon, it could easily hurt specific populations and the overall financial and mental health of Montreal if left unchecked. A casino would foster widespread gambling addiction and further hurt vulnerable people. In the interest of preventing harm and promoting welfare, Montreal shouldn’t bet on casinos to serve its citizens.

Off the Board, Opinion

Stop the swap—I want an apartment, too

CALLING ALL BROKE STUDENTS: Spacious two-and-a-half with a combined living room-bedroom literally two steps from the kitchen, bathroom, and front door! I’ have loved living in this cozy place, paying only $1,775 a month, with no utilities included. Anyone would be lucky to snatch this place up. But I’m only looking to swap. So, any of you first apartment searchers, fuck off, because I know you can’not offer the five-and-a-half, three bathroom, with a balcony the size of the interior, rare gem with lots of brick and natural light apartment that I’m looking for.

Anyone who has recently spent some time on Marketplace looking for a new apartment will know that this is all too common. Any listing with reasonable rent is only available to “swap,” meaning people won’t have to searchlook for an apartment—it’s in the deal. If you want theirs, you’ll have to sell them on your own current living space. While this might be one clever way to avoid rent increases, some of us are being dealt a bad hand from the get-go.

Setting aside the gut-wrenching odds of having a place that meets all of the swapper’s expectations, those of us looking for our first apartments have been virtually locked out of the affordable apartment market. Current tenants leave many of us no choice but to settle for over-priced apartments with exploitative landlords, which can lead to problems like food insecurity and too many roommates if the majority of our paychecks are dedicated to rent. 

Between July 2021 to July 2022, rent in the province of Quebec is about 49 per cent higher than the Canadian average and has been trending upward for the past three years. A place to live is not the only expense university students incur—yes, there is tuition, but volatile food prices have hit wallets pretty hard over the last two years. In 2022, Canadians saw their food bills increase by about 9.8 per cent due to inflation, and we can expect another five to seven per cent in 2023. 

On the other hand, Canadian salaries—base salaries at least, corporate executives who benefit from the precarity of the working class’ living situations are exempt from this analysis—grew by four per cent on average, the highest increase in the last 20 years. But this growth does not even begin to match the inflated cost of living. 

Where does this leave us lowly students? Some soon-to- be fresh out of university like myself—I was lucky to live at home during my studies—are looking for a job that will pay well enough to afford our own space without working 80 hours a week. I am desperate, and finding a decently priced apartment that isn’t a shit hole would be a huge relief. 

I reached a point in my search where I offered to hunt for apartments for swappers. I kid you not when I say that I messaged a man who had a beautiful three-and-a-half with brick walls, lots of natural light, and a big kitchen. I told him that I was sorry for messaging without having an apartment to swap, but I would be willing to find him one if he let me have his. He politely declined my offer, emphasizing that he just wasn’t desperate enough to enlist my house-hunting skills. 

That’s when I hit rock bottom. What had I done? Had I really just messaged a random stranger offering to find him the apartment of his dreams just so that I could pay rent under $1,250? Yes, yes I did. But I am not ashamed or embarrassed. Instead, I choose to believe that I am a product of the “swapping” system we live in.

So, here I am, announcing to the readers of The McGill Tribune that I am looking for a two-bedroom apartment in the Plateau, cat-friendly, and preferably with brick walls and lots of natural light because I will be pursuing my passion for horticulture when I am no longer inundated with school work. And to all you swappers out there, give it up. Nobody is going to trade their five-and-a-half with a balcony for your studio with no windows.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

‘The Happiness Theorem’ is a refreshing portrayal of early pandemic life

After debuting at the San Diego Movie awards, The Happiness Theorem opened in theatres across Canada on Feb. 3. This charming independent Italian production tells an uplifting story of perseverance and community in times of crisis. As one of many in a wave of early-COVID period pieces, the film balances feelings of isolation with hope for the future. The Happiness Theorem brings the spirit of community to life through the creative use of cinematography and a remarkable lead performance from its star, Antonio Tancredi Cadili, crafting a whimsical yet sentimental story. 

The film follows Antonio (Antonio Tancredi Cadili), a young boy living in the historic Southern Italian city of Palermo during the first lockdown of 2020. Many will recall the early pandemic images of Italians banging pots and pans together, singing and blasting music to find moments of joy and solidarity in the uncertain and harrowing start to a global shutdown. Similarly looking for entertainment, Antonio decides to sneak off daily to meet his grandfather, Giuseppe (Andrea Tidona), a professional puppeteer. As the lockdown progresses and financial hardships ravage his community, Antonio boosts his community’s morale by following in his beloved grandfather’s footsteps and putting on a rooftop puppet show for the neighbourhood. 

The film excels in its use of contrasting interior and exterior shots, reminding the audience of the disorientation that so many children felt in the early days of lockdown. The scenes inside Antonio’s home feel crowded and claustrophobic, with his family members constantly in frame in the background. It seems as if none of these characters ever have a moment of privacy, building tension between the individual family members—eventually serving as a catalyst for more considerable arguments regarding issues of finances and the future of the family’s restaurant. These interior moments are put into context with exterior shots of wide boulevards and historical tourist attractions, completely devoid of people: Stores shuttered, closed, restaurants boarded up, and long lines around the block for pharmacies and grocery stores. A distinct sense of longing, loss of community, and vanished connections hang in the air. While these exact sentiments are never directly expressed by the characters, particularly not by nine-year-old Antonio, they’re felt equally as intensely by the audience. 

The film’s strongest performance comes from Cadili, whose commanding presence encapsulates both inspiring juvenile enthusiasm and an extraordinarily mature sense of compassion—not to mention his legitimately impressive puppeteering skills. Even at such a young age, Cadili is a confident and charming lead. He forms captivating connections with nearly everyone he shares the screen with, bringing an effervescent light to the character. 

The film’s weakest point, however, is its script, which features rather simplistic, ineffective dialogue. While it is perfectly plausible that a child would speak in a stilted manner, many of the adult characters spoke with a similar diction. A generous reading of the film could view this as a version of the world through the eyes of a child, but it felt more as if the screenplay struggled to find a unique voice for each of the individual characters. The Happiness Theorem creates an authentic portrayal of life in the early pandemic and is a beautiful tribute to an area of the world so gravely affected by it. Despite a lacklustre script, the film is passionately made, delivering beautifully haunting visuals and an endearing child performance. The film excellently portrays recent tragedies on screen without exhausting or exploiting them for the sake of audience reaction. The smaller scale of The Happiness Theorem’s production doesn’t take away from its poignant emotional impact.

Art, Arts & Entertainment, Poetry, Theatre

‘OPTIMISTA: Amour/Love’ shares the power of love through art

Love is in the air and on people’s minds throughout February, making it the perfect theme for the non-profit arts organization Yellow Pad Sessions’ (YPS) OPTIMISTA event on Feb. 11. OPTIMISTA: Amour/Love was the third iteration in a unique series of multimedia art events that feature keynote speakers, films, and visual art related to the evening’s chosen theme. Organized by YPS co-founders Grace Sebeh Byrne and Patrick Byrne with the help of co-curators Siam Obregón and Max Holzberg, the event celebrated the individuals whose stories express the hope and resiliency of the human spirit. 

 Held at QUAI 5160, Verdun’s waterfront culture house, dreamy tones of red and pink lighting helped transform the large, modern space into a relaxed, intimate environment. Guests were invited to sip on their choice of cocktail or mocktail while perusing several paintings by Hannaleah Ledwell before the evening’s performances began. 

A graduate of Concordia’s Studio Arts program, Ledwell is a multidisciplinary artist whose practice currently focuses on physicality and memory, topics that were palpable in her exhibit Anthromorphe. A quintet of large canvases, Anthromorphe presents a woman’s form in a variety of abstract poses and contortions to evoke how different experiences of love, be it with a lover or with oneself, manifest in the body. Under the event’s Valentine’s-inspired lighting, the forms’ blue shadows and yellow highlights transformed into a palette of rich reds and mauves, making its themes of love and passion all the more visceral. 

Attendees were then ushered into the space’s grand theatre to listen to a performance by Laur Fugère, an acclaimed vocalist and voice coach whose prior credits include leading roles in Broadway shows such as Les Misérables and Cats. Though no show tunes made an appearance, Fugère’s performance was nothing short of stunning. Sitting onstage surrounded by candlelight, she calmly played a variety of metal singing bowls while harmonizing with haunting vocals. Together, this proved a powerful combination that resonated throughout the space to form an ethereal soundscape. 

Fugère’s rich vocals were later accompanied by projections of sweeping tundra landscapes and snowstorms, serving as the perfect segue into poetry readings from keynote speaker Joséphine Bacon. An Innu poet, translator, and filmmaker from Pessamit, Bacon is a widely-esteemed artistic figure whose poetry has made her a Compagne of the Order of Arts and Letters of Quebec as well as a finalist for the prestigious Governor General’s Award. Upon entering the stage, Bacon resonated warmth and wisdom as she began reciting a curated selection of poems from her numerous collections. Notably, she chose to read each verse of the poem in French and Innu-aimun, Bacon’s first language, despite a majority francophone audience. 

“Innu is an endangered language nowadays,” Bacon said in an interview with The McGill Tribune. “I work very hard, and I keep so much hope in my heart that in reading [my poems in Innu-aimun] Innu children will give respect to their language and take pride in it.” 

To reinforce this message, Bacon was then joined onstage by two Innu youths who posed her questions about love and what it means to her. 

The evening closed with a screening of Je m’appelle humain, an award-winning documentary that traces Bacon’s life. The film visualizes the stunning imagery of Bacon’s poetry and included several of her poems as narration throughout. 

In spite of the hardships she’s experienced from the ongoing effects of colonialism in Canada, including her decade-long experience in a residential school and her time as an unhoused person in Montreal after aging out of the system, Bacon still has an uplifting view on the topic of love. 

“Love is beyond one meaning. In fact, it has countless definitions. It just never includes violence.”

Read the latest issue

Read the latest issue