One evening this past semester, my roommates and I were discussing the McGill mascot, Marty the Martlet. Although we knew what Marty looked like, none of us had any idea what an actual martlet was. After some research, we discovered that our beloved mascot is based on an ancient mythological bird––with no feet. From the second the martlet enters the world, it is in perpetual flight until the last flap of its wings.
Suddenly, we had a revelation; Marty the Martlet wasn’t so far fetched after all. A bird that can never take a break from flying, which must continuously flap its wings to survive? I couldn’t think of a better creature to represent McGill students.
It didn’t take me very long to sense the intense, competitive, hustle culture––I was exposed to it before I even arrived in Montreal. Soon after I accepted my offer at McGill, I joined the Facebook group for entering students to make some connections before arriving at university. Although the Facebook group’s purpose was to lessen the daunting stress of starting university just months ahead of me, it did the opposite.
I was bombarded with introductions from hundreds of students. The idea was simple––to share a few fun facts about oneself. Yet even that simple prompt quickly became an incitement for competition. If the first student that posted spoke two languages, then by the time the tenth student posted, they spoke 10 languages and were the son of an important diplomat.
“There definitely is a hustle culture at McGill,” wrote Alisa Nosova, U3 Arts, in an email to //The McGill Tribune.// “Everyone is hustling to get the best opportunities, get into the most interesting classes, build relationships with professors that teach classes of 200+ students, and take on executive positions in clubs. It’s competitive out there.”
Nosova is no stranger to the rat race. After arriving at McGill, she did everything in her power to try and compete: She took on multiple executive positions, became involved with the Arts Undergraduate Society, and acquired a part-time job. It wasn’t long before Nosova’s mental health took a hit. “I felt so hopeless […], I felt I needed to make a Plan B for myself,” she said. After she realized that she had spread herself too thin, she decided to take a step back and focus on herself in her final year. As she put it, “I lost myself in the process of pampering my resume and chasing all the experience.”
