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Commentary, Opinion

Housing is urgent; disclosure should be too

There is no debate that Montreal is experiencing a housing crisis. It is also equally evident that Chinatown’s remaining infrastructural heritage is scarce and essential to the preservation of Chinese culture in Montreal. Those two facts should be mutually exclusive, but right now, municipal lawmakers are threatening to turn Chinatown heritage sites into social housing, forcing a debate over what the city should prioritize: Heritage or housing. However, the urgent question should not be whether to build social housing, but how to do it—in a way that avoids undermining cultural vitality.

Achieving this kind of support is not straightforward; it requires dialogue, visibility and transparency. Montreal has signalled that multiple municipal sites will be released for non-market housing in 2025, yet the government has not disclosed to the public a clear, citywide list of addresses, unit ranges, and timelines. 

However, without a clear public site analysis, the decision to place a housing project in a small, racialized heritage district obscures what was a conscious choice by the city government as an unavoidable sacrifice. That opacity creates an unnecessary opposition between cultural protection and human need—two necessities that do not have to be positioned as rivals. 

Montreal does have a formal policy of ceding municipal properties for non-market housing, along with an online map demarcating these sites. The city has acquired or transferred other buildings for housing throughout 2025, including 20 buildings to the Société d’habitation et de développement de Montréal (SHDM) to lock in affordable supply and several projects outside the Ville-Marie district. However, what the city does not make publicly available is their comparative reasoning: Which sites were assessed first, which were set aside, and what factors led to the selection of the Wing building—which has played a long-standing role in supporting and providing for the Chinese community in Montreal. 

Montreal has only recently acknowledged its historic failure to protect Chinatown. In July 2023, Quebec classified the core of the neighbourhood as a heritage site, protecting 10 key buildings and 14 lots from demolition or major alteration, including the Wing building. In January 2024, Montreal designated Chinatown the city’s first official historic site, alleging an aim to ‘protect and enhance’ the rare francophone Chinatown. 

Altering even one of these culturally emblematic buildings implicitly devalues the culture and history those buildings reflect, while simultaneously denying a geographic and infrastructural cultural hub for future generations.

However, there is no denying that the housing crisis in Montreal is just as pressing as cultural erosion. In the winter of 2024–2025, Montreal shelters and warming stations turned away roughly 50 people each night, and by late 2024, day shelters serving elderly unhoused people were also at capacity. 

In November 2024, the Centres intégrés universitaires de santé et de services sociaux (CIUSSS) de Montréal stated there were 1,864 spaces in shelters across the city, with about 200 more to be added at the start of December. However, local officials warned that Montreal was still short of 500 shelter units. In a city where winter conditions are life-threatening, the acute housing shortage is not an abstract policy problem but a structural shortfall and a threat to basic survival. 

By disclosing part of its plan and keeping the rest offstage, Montreal turned two legitimate claims—social housing and historical heritage—into a confrontation. But this apparent clash between communities is really a gap in disclosure. Montreal has the power—and the responsibility—to disclose its 2025 housing data in full. Publishing the 2025 sites, the selection criteria, and the rejected options for new housing developments is not a courtesy to Chinatown or to housing groups. It is the minimum condition for the project to proceed. 

Transparency is not a rival to urgency; it’s what makes it credible. Montreal is asking residents to accept that some meaningful, historic locations will change and carry new functions. That is a heavy ask, but it’s also a reasonable one—only once the entire plan is on the table. Consent begins with disclosure, and Montreal has still more to show.

Commentary, Opinion

Trump’s ‘Department of War’ rebrand shows the power of rhetoric in framing political narratives

United States President Donald Trump renamed the Department of Defence (DoD) the ‘Department of War’ in an executive order issued on Sept. 5. Subsequently, ‘Secretary of War’ Pete Hegseth stated that the government is “going on offence, not just defence.” The White House’s rebranding of the institution is not a benign change in nomenclature but a symbolic shift to embrace violence in governance. The new department title serves as a prime example of language weaponized to accomplish political goals and influence public perception—a strategy also wielded by educational institutions like McGill. 

Trump’s rhetoric surrounding the DoD name change emphasizes victory, strength, and a readiness to engage in warfare to “secure what is ours,” a combative language bordering on imperialistic intent—one that harks back to Trump’s last labelling stunt of renaming the Gulf of Mexico the ‘Gulf of America’ just this January.

The administration’s war on naming speaks more broadly of a will to heroicize America in the eyes of American citizens and the international community. Hegseth glorified violence when he declared that the DoD title change aims to restore warrior ethos.” Yet, language that celebrates strength and warfare often finds its counterpart in language that disguises domination as diplomacy and violence as peace. Hegseth justified the evolution of the Department of War’s mission by arguing it seeks to bring peace—a comically paradoxical declaration that is a testament to America’s long history of waging devastating wars under the pretense of peace.

The bitter irony of Trump’s ‘peace’ rhetoric is more conspicuous in his 20-point plan announced on Sept. 29, in which he pledged to bring about an ‘everlasting reconciliation’ between Israel and Palestine. The plan aims to establish a transitional government for Gaza, overseen by a ‘Board of Peace’ led by Trump and former British Prime Minister Tony Blair

The ‘Board of Peace’ is questionable by definition, given the two key figures appointed as its leaders. First, Blair was responsible for Britain’s decision to back up American troops in the 2003 Iraq war. Second, Trump has displayed nothing short of a flippant attitude towards Israel’s genocide. On Feb. 25, he reposted a concerning AI video imagining the future of Palestine, featuring himself sipping a cocktail by the pool of a luxurious hotel with Israeli leader Benjamin Netanyahu.

Trump leverages the language of war and peace to legitimize and glorify America’s participation in international conflicts—a common rhetorical tactic in high-power politics around the world. Whether it is the Israel Defence Forces title invoking national defence to deny genocidal violence, or Quebec Premier François Legault’s fear-mongering claims of a French Language extinction to rationalize Bill 96, curated rhetoric saturates global politics.

Like politicians, institutional leaders too weaponize rhetoric to shape public perception on political affairs and drown out the objectives and campaigns of social movements. On campus, we have also witnessed firsthand how the ‘peace’ rhetoric often hides a latent and divisive political agenda. At McGill, students and faculty continuously organize against the university’s financial investments in military technology companies tied to the Israeli occupation: This movement has included—but is not limited to—the passing of the Policy Against Genocide in 2023, the McGill Association of University Teachers endorsing an academic and cultural boycott of Israel, the 75-day encampment, and two student strikes for divestment. 

However, McGill President and Vice-Chancellor Deep Saini consistently asserts that McGill University must abstain from “commenting or taking a position” when addressing protests. By asserting a supposedly neutral political position, McGill fundamentally sides with the perpetrators of genocide. Abstaining from taking a side in a political conflict is, in effect, siding with the powerful, and is far from an act of peace. 

The president of a university is appointed to represent the institution’s interests. President Saini’s condemnation of vandalism advocating for divestment in February is understandable in its aim of protecting McGill property. However, Saini’s systematic refusal to address the motives behind the vandalistic acts dismisses the greater concern of students at hand. By cherry-picking what to comment on and where to claim alleged neutrality, Saini constructs a ‘peace’ rhetoric that maintains the genocidal status quo.

The rhetoric embedded in our political landscapes shapes and distorts depictions of political events. Whether glorifying aggression or masquerading behind the façade of peace, these distortions serve one purpose: To protect power. Students must proceed with caution and consider the intentions and interests underlying seemingly impartial political statements appealing to ‘peace’ or ‘security—especially during times of intense mobilization.

Out on the Town, Student Life

Boredom-busting activities that disrupt the endless midterm grind

During McGill’s never-ending midterm period, motivation decreases at the speed of light. Your long hours at the library get less and less productive, yet the foreboding your incessant workload inspires, combined with the battle it took to secure a seat on your favourite floor of the library, keep you rooted in place. 

Before this monotony and anxiety overwhelm you, making any level of studying impossible, it is crucial to build in breaks that combat academic ennui. The Tribune presents a list of boredom-busting opportunities that will fit your tight study schedule and nourish your soul in ways McLennan never could.

Take advantage of campus museums

A hop, skip, and a jump away from any university library is McGill’s Redpath Museum, free with voluntary admission and open Tuesday to Saturday. Though it is perhaps most known for its central Gorgosaurus fossil, do not miss the museum’s stunning Abe Levine Shell Collection, which holds over 2,000 seashells that genuinely sparkle. Redpath also boasts a fascinating Ancient Egypt Collection that dives into the civilization’s funerary rites and mythos, and many stuffed zoological specimens, including extinct creatures.

For a more grisly experience, head to the equally proximate Strathcona Anatomy and Dentistry Building to visit the Maude Abbott Medical Museum. Free to visit on Tuesday to Friday afternoons, Maude Abbott’s Cardiovascular Collection hosts a fascinating display presenting 39 examples of heart disease, including an alligator’s heart. While you could get lost perusing either museum, both Redpath and Maude Abbott offer quick breaks from schoolwork that are much more informative and engaging than the classic midterm season doomscroll. 

Watch dogs frolic at Percy-Walters Park

Whether strolling from campus along the south side of Mount Royal or coming from the mountain itself mid-run or walk, consider stopping by Percy-Walters Park. A quiet enclave surrounded by stately homes, the greenspace is a refreshing breather from McGill’s bustling buildings, and it offers amazing pet-watching via its fenced-off dog park. If you’re lucky, an owner might even let you say hello to their puppy: Just like a McGill-run animal therapy session, but without the queue. 

Skip the cooking

There is nothing more rewarding during midterms than not having to coordinate meal prep. Whether by yourself or on a study date with friends, treat yourself to lunch or dinner at a restaurant to break up long library sessions and make sure you fuel your hardworking brain properly. 

A BIXI ride away from campus on rue Rachel E, visit AMBER Restaurant for Indian-Pakistani cuisine with a wide range of exceptional vegetarian options. While the menu is sharing-friendly, try to stop by during lunch service from Thursday to Sunday to order your own personal thali, which comes with a comprehensive appetizer, three curries, rice, naan, and a dessert for only $25.99 CAD. The warm food will feel like a hug in your stomach during even the most trying of academic times.

Slightly farther on av. Fairmount O, brave the line at the Drogheria Fine window for piping-hot gnocchi, at just $5 CAD per takeout box—with a slight premium to add parmesan cheese or chilli flakes—payable by cash or debit card only.

If you don’t have any time to dine in during the midterm grind, order from I Am Pho near Concordia. This popular spot offers delicious soups that withstand food delivery journeys without compromising quality. Fragrant and spicy, their bún bò Huế is a must-try.

Take a total brain break to explore av. Laurier
For when you’ve truly given up on studying, call it a day and take a proper break to recharge: Why not spend an afternoon meandering along av. Laurier? Start by grabbing a warm beverage from Noble Café to sip on as you walk through Sir-Wilfrid-Laurier Park and admire the last of the autumn leaves. If you head east after the park, consider picking up colouring supplies at art store Lézard Créatif as a further de-stressor for home, or enjoy a beer at Dieu du Ciel! If heading west on Laurier, stop by Librairie un livre à soi, a beautifully curated French bookstore, to find an alternative to your myCourses readings, or Marie Vermette, a florist whose bouquets can brighten up your desk even in the darkest of midterm seasons.

Arts & Entertainment, Theatre

‘Cult Play’ triumphantly faces dark truths of the need for belonging

Cult Play, a new play written by non-binary playwright and Concordia graduate Scout Rexe, recently made its world premiere at the Segal Centre. Presented by Imagos Theatre, the play follows Alex (Madeleine Scovil), a queer actress in Montreal who falls in love with a woman named Taylor (Kayleigh Choiniere). The one-woman show explores the cost of the natural desire for belonging and the question hovering over Alex: Do we actually have the capacity for fully informed consent?

Alex narrates the play, and the characters she interacts with are presented through video or, in certain scenes, via audience participation. As the only conveyor of the story, she controls the narrative and grants the audience consent to witness it.

Cult Play begins when the two lovers form a lust that manifests itself through bondage, first interacting on the phone and later meeting in Arizona. Taylor persuades Alex to join her at a mysterious retreat centre in California, referred to as ‘The Centre,’ a place devoted to the practice of bondage. The facility’s charismatic owner, Hunt (Thomas Valliéres), runs the retreat with a sort of radical idealism. 

In videos of his interactions with Alex, Hunt questions societal structures that he believes chain people to a capitalist mindset. He criticizes the idea of therapy, claiming it creates a dependence which prevents individuals from meaningful improvement. As the play unfolds, it is clear that his view of dependence is not exclusive to therapy, shaping Alex’s experience in the retreat.

The centre initially seems like the perfect place for Alex, who has trust issues stemming from her unsupportive, demeaning father. Encouraged to be more definitive in facing her obstacles, she feels like she has finally found a space where she belongs. Surrounded by people who seem to understand her—alongside the love of her life—she quietly steps away from her acting career and focuses on herself.

However, the play quickly reveals that this ‘Centre’ is not entirely meant to heal. A mystery involving Taylor and Hunt, a push for Alex to share more, and ever-weakening personal barriers give Alex the sense that she might just be in a cult.

Hunt dismisses the act of being able to consent, as he claims that individuals do not have the capacity to enjoy their own choices. His belief that people require guidance to make good decisions manifests itself in a gradual but shocking tearing of boundaries, pushing Alex into more intimate bondage situations. Though increasingly nervous about the Centre’s control over retreatants, Alex reluctantly complies with Hunt’s requests to desperately win the approval of the Hunt-devoted Taylor.

Fittingly, Cult Play uses audience interaction as a framing device for its central theme of consent. Alex begins by presenting questions on a projector, lines which audience members are encouraged to ask her.

In doing so, audience members consent to becoming active participants in the story and trust that boundaries will not be crossed. Using the same framing later on, the audience is encouraged to ask for Alex’s consent to look into more harrowing parts of the narrative. Verbally, they affirm the theatre as a safe space. When prompted, audience members may also choose to join Alex in performing scenes alongside her, a gesture of mutual respect and boundaries. 

Scout Rexe’s masterful script blends physical performance, digital media, and audience interaction in an immersive experience that bleeds emotions out into the real world. Through an immensely intimate experience based on trust between the performer and the audience, Cult Play argues that consent isn’t irrational—and that choosing happiness isn’t a perpetuation of some capitalist status quo.
Ultimately, Alex discovers that true belonging means acceptance of all of her. She learns to let go of a place where she felt she belonged because, although it accepted her queerness, it did not accept her desire to feel comfortable with her own choices. In her final reflections, as Alex reckons with the paths laid out in front of her, she harnesses herself to the on-stage shibari structure, pulls herself up, and allows herself to float. And then the lights go out.

Commentary, Opinion

Quebec French seduction programs are a win-win for francophones and anglophones alike

Since the 1960s’ Quiet Revolution, Quebecois secessionists have advocated for the creation of a separate Quebec nation-state and the preservation of strong French cultural and linguistic ties within the province. Yet French cultural initiatives, such as business language requirements, are often unnecessarily exclusionary towards the province’s anglophone residents, enforcing rigid norms in the name of cultural preservation. However, unlike exclusionary language policies, Quebec’s French educational seduction programs strengthen cultural preservation while respecting both francophone and anglophone autonomy. 

Recently, the French Consulate announced a new initiative aptly termed the ‘seduction program,’ designed to increase the accessibility of French education for Quebecois students. The program enables Quebecois students to enroll in French universities at the same tuition rate as French citizens. Additionally, the program streamlines the application process to French universities, allowing students to apply to multiple schools for a modest cost. As of 2019, merely 1,600 Quebec students study in France—a paltry headcount that seduction programs aim to increase.

This program offers a positive counter-model to other Quebec initiatives aiming to preserve French language and culture. Unlike some contemporary policies that promote French language use at the cost of English linguistic accessibility, French educational seduction programs provide Quebec citizens—regardless of their native language—with opt-in opportunities to immerse themselves in French culture. 

Given relatively low demonstrated student interest in studying in France, some might argue that the program’s continuation is unjustified. However, in reality, the volume of interest in these programs does not decisively determine their value. Regardless of whether French educational seduction programs are capitalized upon, they serve an important secondary function: The provision of increased cultural agency for the Quebecois people. 

Increased autonomy is the core demand of Quebecois secessionists, who view the preservation of French culture as a vessel for autonomy. Providing francophone students with the option to engage in affordable, French-immersive education empowers them to determine their own cultural destinies. This program could offer a substitute for more exclusionary practices—such as proposed French proficiency mandates at universities like McGill— that promote similar aims of French language retention. In short, this seduction program offers the option for Quebecois to embrace French without undermining English linguistic rights.

Of course, each Quebecois student who chooses to pursue higher education in France represents a loss in revenue for Quebec universities. Only five to six per cent of students from Quebec obtain their college degree out of province, so, indeed, it appears that every student gained by French seduction programs is effectively ‘poached’ from the Quebec university system. Yet, major Quebec universities like McGill and Concordia generate the majority of their tuition revenue from international and out-of-province students who //are not// eligible to participate in French seduction programs. Additionally, given that roughly 95 per cent of Quebecois students remain in-province for university, it doesn’t appear that local schools would suffer from the loss of a few resident students to France.

Ultimately, French education programs are a positive opportunity for Quebecers and a net-neutral for universities. Functionally, these programs won’t lead to mass disinvestment from local universities due to their demonstrated lower levels of participation. Rather, these programs bolster provincial cultural autonomy and provide a positive outlet for engagement with French culture. Unlike more typical cultural preservation programs, incentivized education abroad has no exclusionary impact on the province’s English-speaking residents. What little revenue is lost to Quebec universities through these seduction programs seems a small price to pay in exchange for a cultural compromise that honours both francophone and anglophone interests.

Football, Hockey, Soccer, Sports, Tennis

Turning back time: What daylight savings teaches us about athletic career endurance  

Daylight saving time: You hate it when you lose an hour of sleep in March, and love when you gain the hour back in November. This past Sunday, Nov. 2, our clocks turned back, and we attained that beloved hour. What if athletes could also ‘turn back the clock’ on their careers? Often, as sports stars age, they lose the athleticism they once had in their younger prime—but some athletes have withstood the test of time. In celebration of daylight saving time, here are the top athletes who have shown that, despite their age, they can “turn back the time” and still put up elite performances against younger competition. 

Tennis: Venus and Serena Williams

Both household names, the Williams sisters have dominated tennis for decades. Venus and Serena have done it all, winning a combined 30 Grand Slam singles titles. As a duo, they have won three Olympic gold medals and 14 doubles titles

Last July, at 45 years old, Venus became the second-oldest player ever to win a Women’s Tennis Association tour singles match, defeating 22-year-old Peyton Stearns. Despite their 23-year age gap, Venus dominated the game, winning in two sets. Similarly, during the 2022 US Open, Serena pulled off a major upset, beating the globally-ranked number two player Anett Kontaveit. Serena, who was 41 at the time, is 15 years older than Kontaveit, who was 26 and in her prime. While Venus is 45 and Serena is turning 44, Venus continues to compete despite Serena’s retirement in 2022, showing that age is just a number—even at tennis’s highest level.

Football: Tom Brady

Known as the Greatest of All Time (GOAT) of football, quarterback Tom Brady has not only achieved all one can in the National Football League (NFL) as its most decorated player ever, but continued to do so late into his career. Brady did not retire from the NFL until he was 45, even coming back to play another year after he initially announced his ‘retirement’ in 2021

At age 43, Brady led the Tampa Bay Buccaneers to his seventh career Super Bowl championship victory. In his decisive 31-9 win over the Kansas City Chiefs, Brady had an age advantage over opposition quarterback Patrick Mahomes of 18 years and 45 days.

Soccer: Marta

Marta Viera da Silva (Marta), regarded as ‘The Queen’ of soccer, has been critical to the success of her home nation Brazil on the international stage and is historically one of the best to ever play around the world. Still in the game at age 39, she has participated in six World Cups and six Olympic Games, scoring 122 goals

Despite initially ‘retiring’ from international soccer after the 2024 Olympic Games, Marta returned to play for Brazil in the 2025 CONMEBOL Copa América Femenina, a tournament between South American nations. Playing alongside many of her teammates who were a full decade younger than her, she was the star. In Brazil’s final against Colombia, Marta scored two goals in extra time to secure Brazil’s victory as the champion of the continent. 

Hockey: Jaromír Jágr

A hockey legend, Jaromír Jágr continues to play professionally at 53 years old. Originally from the Czech Republic, Jágr was drafted into the National Hockey League (NHL) by the Pittsburgh Penguins in 1990. Throughout his NHL career, Jágr recorded 756 goals and 1135 assists, making him second on the all-time NHL points leaderboard

Jágr played in the NHL until 2018, 28 years after he was first drafted. Today, he continues to play in the Czech Extraliga, the highest-level league in the Czech Republic, for Rytíři Kladno. His last feature was on Oct. 17 against HC Vítkovice, showing that despite his age, Jagr still competes at the top level. 

Ultimately, these athletes have taught us that skill does not have to come at the expense of age. Just as our clocks turn back every November, we are reminded of the stars who have done the same with their careers, proving that star power in the most elite players can trump the effects of growing older.  

McGill, Montreal, News

MISC hosts 2025 Mallory Lecture ‘Back to the Future’ with speaker Chantal Hébert

On Oct. 29, the McGill Institute for the Study of Canada (MISC) hosted its 2025 Mallory Lecture. Daniel Béland, professor in the Department of Political Science and director of the MISC, began the event with a land acknowledgement, followed by an overview of previous lectures MISC has held since 1995 in honour of James Russell Mallory.

“After retiring in 1982, [Mallory] was appointed professor emeritus, and continued to teach for another 10 years. Professor Mallory passed away in 2003,” Béland contextualized. “[Previous] lectures featured such renowned speakers as Bob Rae, Andrew Cohen, Alain Dubuc, Tom Kent, John Gomery, Elizabeth May, and many others.”

Béland then introduced the speaker for the 2025 lecture, Chantal Hébert, a bilingual freelance political columnist. In 1975, she started her career in Toronto in Radio-Canada’s regional newsroom, before covering federal politics on Parliament Hill. She has since written for a range of newspapers, including La Presse and The Toronto Star.

In 2015, Hébert’s book The Morning After: The 1995 Quebec Referendum and the Day that Almost Was was published in both English and French. Hébert started the lecture by describing her inspirations for writing the book.

“I suggested that I do a story about the 1995 referendum, and that my plan was to go around to everyone […] in an elected political position, I would ask them […] what would happen if the ‘yes’ had won?” she said. “The morning after the last referendum and in the year that followed, nobody wanted to talk, […] because once the votes were counted, there was one question on everyone’s mind […] and the question was: Did no mean no?” 

Hébert continued to comment on Quebecers’ evasive attitude towards the question of a sovereign Quebec.

“Since that night in 1995, [Quebecers] have had 18 opportunities to use the ballot box to rekindle the sovereignty debate,” she said. “If you were to connect the dots between all those votes, what you find is that over the past three decades, Quebec voters have gone out of their way to avoid revisiting the issue.”

Hébert ended her lecture by referring to Paul St-Pierre Plamondon’s vow to organize another potential referendum.

“The next Quebec campaign is going to feature a referendum commitment, a real one, apparently, for the first time since Jacques Parizeau was elected in 1994,” she said. “In the world that I’ve lived in, we only had a referendum in 1995 because the rest of Canada really created the conditions for it during the Meech Lake Debate.”

Hébert then moved on to a Q&A session. An attendee asked Hébert about her thoughts on how some ‘spoiled’ ballots were destroyed by electoral officers during the 1995 referendum. Hébert responded by saying that both the federalist and sovereignist sides were responsible for tampering with the results.

“With 94 per cent of voters voting, I don’t believe that one side stole it from the other,” she said. “The federal government [also swore] in people as citizens to make sure that they showed up to vote, so [it would be] kind of a waste of time [to compare the sides].”

As one of the final questions, an attendee asked Hébert, “What [do] you think the motivations for this referendum are, and how would they be different from the referendum 30 years ago, especially considering the rise of support for independence among young people?”

Hébert explained that the idea of a new referendum still centres on creating a country that protects the French language.

“The Parti Québécois [(PQ)] wasted 30 years and drew too much distance from not just newer Quebecers, but you cannot, in the same breath, say we’re proud of les enfants de la loi 101 and then not realize that your French-rooted kids went to school with people who are not from necessarily the same background,” she responded. “I think the PQ has failed to work its way into finding a way for Quebec’s diversity to be part of its project, and that would cost a vote [because] if you feel that your kids don’t fit in because of [la loi], you’re less likely to want to vote ‘yes’ [in the next referendum].”

Art, Arts & Entertainment

Artistic gems within the depths of Montreal 

Art drifts through Montreal like a living current, extending far beyond museums and concert halls. It spills out of the city’s hidden bars, sculptures, and cinemas, inviting anyone who dares to wander to step into its imagination. Here are four corners where Montreal’s artistic heart pulses strongest.

Step into the secret rhythms of Bootlegger 

The bar Bootlegger has a discreet, almost concealed entrance meant to emulate the speakeasies of the bootlegging Prohibition era. Stepping inside, you find yourself transported back to the time of secret and illicit jazz saloons and taverns. Dim, red lighting creates an intimate and warm setting. The bar displays many decorative antique bottles of liquor; the stylized lounge area near the entrance adds to the 1920s feel. Live jazz music plays every Sunday and Wednesday, contributing to this mysterious ambiance. The music from the backstage fills every corner of the room, and there isn’t a bad seat in the house. Bootlegger is more than a bar; it is a place where music, light, and memory entwine into a world apart from time.

Take in artistic ambiance at Else’s

Located in the Plateau, Else’s is another cocktail bar and restaurant which presents an artistic environment with its theatrical decorations and quaint street corner location. The exterior is completely blue, an intriguing disruption from the classic beige and brick colouring of the surrounding houses and buildings. The inside is even more eye-catching: The walls are painted a dark green, and near the bar area lie all kinds of medieval puppets of devils and other creatures. There isn’t an inch of the place without some form of artistic display. Though at a slightly costlier price range, it is worth it for the ambiance. At Else’s, the mundane melts into the extraordinary, turning every drink into an encounter with art.

See the French-English feud immortalized in Old Port

Located in Old Montreal, one of the more noteworthy public displays of art in the city is The English Pug and the French Poodle—two opposing but interweaving statues. It features two pet owners wearing masks, comically tipping their noses up in the air at one another. Incidentally, the alternate name of the statue is The Two Snobs. This sculpture is meant to evoke humour, a joke between the French and the English. With the woman carrying a French poodle and the man holding an English bulldog, it represents the dynamic between the two cultures in Montreal, and satirizes the friction between the two. 

Study the classics at Cinema du Parc

If you are in the mood for some quality entertainment, Cinema du Parc is the perfect place for film buffs, cinephiles, and casual movie-goers alike. Located on av. du Parc, not far from McGill’s downtown campus, the cinema is convenient, less expensive than other theatres, and screens both classic films and new movies. With a distinct charm, an old-fashioned feel, and smaller screens and rooms all on one level, it offers a much more traditional movie-going experience. Cinema du Parc is also one of the few theatres that celebrate prominent anniversaries of renowned films, such as its recent rescreenings of Jaws, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, and more. An independent cinema, it promotes local artists, charity organizations, and Montreal communities. Cinema du Parc is a great way to be entertained without a huge price tag. 

Montreal’s art can not be contained: It lives, breathes, and whispers in every corner. If you have run out of sights to see and places to visit, these four places are a few of the many places that you must check out. They are just droplets of the city’s artistic scenery.

Editorial, Opinion

Fall 2025 Referendum Endorsements

The Tribune’s Editorial Board presents its endorsements for the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) Fall 2025 Referendum questions. The endorsements reflect a majority vote of the editorial board, with the option for editors with conflicts of interest to abstain from pertinent questions.

First Year Fee Renewal: Yes

This motion aims to create an opt-outable $0.35 CAD First Year Council (FYC) fee, following the expiration of the previous fee in 2023 and its non-passage in the Winter 2024 Referendum. The Tribune  endorses a ‘Yes’ vote to establish this fee. The FYC offers essential services for first-year students, including social events, forums, and representation on SSMU’s legislative council. In previous years, the FYC has organized events for mental wellness, sponsored giveaways, and held town hall meetings to amplify the voices of an often underrepresented student group and support their transition into university life. The reinstatement of the FYC is particularly important in light of McGill’s decision to abolish Floor Fellows in first-year residences, as well as the death of a student in La Citadelle residence, in winter 2025, which both highlighted ongoing concerns about first-year support and safety on campus. 

Renewal of the Access McGill Ancillary Fee: Yes

The Tribune endorses a ‘Yes’ vote to renew the Access McGill Ancillary Fee. The Fee directly supports approximately 4,500 students registered in McGill’s Student Accessibility and Achievement (SAA) office who face disability-related barriers to their studies and beyond. This is a non-opt-outable fee of $2.00 CAD per student per term, and goes towards SAA’s provision of resources, services, equipment, and facilities for students facing learning barriers. Specific services include one-on-one student academic support, funding for a dedicated Access Services Advisor, tailored support services such as sign language interpretation, conversion of course materials into more accessible formats, and continuation of over 25,000 exam accommodations per year, to name a few. Supporting the provision of these services is non-negotiable—they are essential to upholding democratic and accessible education at McGill. This fee is set to expire in Winter 2026.

Renewal of the SSMU Access Bursary Fund Fee: Yes

The SSMU Access Bursary Fund Fee, established in 1999, funds bursaries for undergraduate students in financial need through the McGill Scholarships and Student Aid Office. This opt-outable fee is $8.50 CAD for full-time students and $4.25 CAD for part-time students per semester. All funds accrued by this bursary are matched by McGill, making it one of the university’s most significant bursary funds—in the 2024-2025 academic year, for example, the bursary fund allocated $763,000 CAD to 275 students in financial need. Right now, as Quebec imposes tuition hikes for out-of-province students at McGill, this bursary fund is more important than ever. If this motion fails, the bursary fund will end in Winter 2026, eliminating the $700-900k CAD it allots annually. Not only is this fee necessary for hundreds of McGill students to continue their studies, but it also upholds SSMU’s commitment to equity and accessible education. The Tribune endorses a ‘Yes’ vote for this fee. 

Student Services Fee: Yes

The Student Services Fee motion aims to increase the Student Services fee—currently $204.74 CAD—by 4% each year, for the next three years ($212.93 CAD in Fall 2026, $221.45 CAD in Fall 2027, and $230.31 CAD in Fall 2028). The fee supports several essential services at McGill, including the Student Wellness Hub, the McGill Office of Religious and Spiritual Life, Career Planning Service, Scholarships and Student Aid, International Student Services, the Office for Students with Disabilities, Campus Life & Engagement, and First Peoples’ House. The cost of maintaining these services now exceeds the revenue generated by the existing fee; without the proposed increase, many vital programs risk a significant reduction in the services they can offer to students. The Tribune endorses a ‘Yes’ vote on this motion, with the caveat that SSMU ensures transparency in funding allocation and makes a greater effort to engage students to maximize the value and accessibility of these services. 

Muslim Students’ Association (MSA) Service Fee Increase: Yes

This motion seeks to increase the MSA’s opt-outable fee levy from $1.55 CAD a semester to $2.19 CAD. The MSA not only provides a space for Muslim students at McGill to connect but also promotes a variety of services, including prayer spaces, tajweed (Qur’an recitation) classes, and social events. If this motion is approved in the referendum, the fee increase will go into effect in the Winter 2026 term, and will be voted on again for renewal in 2028. If the motion fails, the fee levy will remain at $1.55 CAD a semester per student. 

The MSA claims its current budget does not allow it to fulfill its mandate, as evidenced by its decreased capacity for participants and, in some cases, cessations of certain programs altogether. It notes the importance of this fee increase to match the increasing Muslim population at McGill, as well as rising costs in general. The MSA hopes the fee increase will allow for cheaper ticketing, larger venue capacities, and the broadening of activities unburdened by budget constraints. 

The Tribune endorses a ‘Yes’ vote given that the MSA provides vital prayer resources for Muslim students on campus, and the $0.64 CAD per student increase will result in a larger budget, leading to greater accessibility and capacity for the MSA.

Musicians Collective Fee: Yes

The Musicians Collective is a volunteer-run SSMU Service which provides students with a public ‘jam space’ on campus. The service allows students to rent instruments, book rooms, and make music at a minimal cost. This motion seeks to renew the $0.10 CAD fee to keep the Collective running and accessible to all undergraduate students. 

The Tribune endorses a ‘Yes’ vote. Renewing this fee supports music, the arts, and community on campus while maintaining an affordable and inclusive space for students to create music and collaborate. Rooms in the Schulich School of Music are reserved for music students only, so it is imperative that the broader McGill community has access to inclusive creative spaces. Without this renewal, the Collective risks losing its funding and its ability to operate. In voting ‘Yes,’ the fee will go into effect from Winter 2025 until Fall 2029 (inclusive). 

Creation of Gender Affirming Care Fee: Yes

This motion seeks to create an opt-outable fee of $10.05 CAD for the creation of a Gender-Affirming Care (GAC) insurance plan offered through Alumo (formerly StudentCare). The plan will cover medication, gender-affirming procedures, mental health support, and more, funding up to $5,000 CAD per procedure with a lifetime maximum of $50,000 CAD  per individual. 

Under prior GAC plans, lifetime maximum coverage was capped at $10,000 CAD, an insufficient sum unable to cover most procedures not already covered by provincial or international insurance. The current GAC insurance plan—a reimbursement program offered by SSMU’s Gender and Sexuality Commissioner—also falls short, as its mandate lacks formal protections and therefore fails to guarantee its long-term efficacy. Research shows that GAC reduces gender dysphoria, anxiety, depression, and suicide; it quite literally saves lives

Without the creation of the new GAC fee, Two-Spirit, transgender, non-binary, and gender non-conforming individuals (2STNBGN), who are disproportionately low-income, will experience financial strain and mental distress. As the referendum question critically notes, without the institution of this opt-outable fee, there will be no GAC plan offered to students in the upcoming year.Although a non-opt-outable fee would be preferable given the vital nature of this fund to 2STNBGN students,  The Tribune endorses a definitive ‘Yes’ vote for the creation of a GAC fee.

Off the Board, Opinion

My acoustic coup against the classical 

I was six years old when I walked into my first violin lesson, and for the twelve years that followed, I stood—posture erect—at dutiful attention to the staid technicalities and smug rectitude of classical music. 

I was a happy cadet and a relatively successful one, for what it’s worth. For a decade, I practiced just about every day, commanded by the despotic Ševčík, the melodramatic Beethoven, and the kind, forgiving Bach—as well as a similarly varied array of personal instructors. I learned to differentiate spiccato and staccato by bending my pinkie, to sightread anything short of Vivaldi on a first try, and to shift to third, fourth, and fifth position deftly enough to know that even in those upper strata of my fingerboard, I would hit high D. 

By junior year of high school, I was my orchestra’s concertmaster—the cadet had become the field marshall, reigning over the neat semicircle of chairs facing the conductor—and I felt contentedly indifferent. It’s not that joy and fun could not be found on the symphony’s stage, but rather that it existed only outside our music, which we saluted soberly, properly, and with well-trained technical accuracy. 

I’ve stopped playing violin formally since coming to university—for lack of time and a good opportunity to do so. But I have taken up the guitar. At first, I only picked up the instrument to learn “Landslide.” Then I spent a week learning the F-chord just so I could play Bathroom Light.” I can play maybe twelve chords now—eight confidently—with just enough plucking dexterity to keep Stevie Nicks sounding presentable, and a persistent inflexibility in my strumming pattern that I keep promising I’ll do something about. 

But the little I do know was enough for my roommate and me to perch ourselves on our balcony one September evening and play Noah Kahan. She sings, I strum, and sometimes I sing with her. This evening, though, when we had finished playing, the singing didn’t stop. On the street below our balcony was a three-strong congregation of flashlights, swaying back and forth, as the voices behind the lights sang the chorus we had just finished. They stopped, turned off their flashlights, and called up to us through the dark to play the song again, “from the top.” 

This time I played guitar and we all sang—an earnest, multi-elevational chorus on rue Aylmer. When we were done, my roommate and I leaned over the balcony and learned that our backup singers were our neighbours, and that the one on the left was turning 21 that weekend. He invited us to the festivities, and we said goodnight, each party still unaware of what the other even looked like. 

We and our neighbours now play guitar regularly—on their balcony, in our kitchen, and in their living room. All three of them, it turns out, are far more talented with a guitar than I ever was on the violin, but when I do know the chords to a song, they let me play it: Me with my kindergarten-level strumming, absolutely giddy with happiness. 

I’ve never made friends with any across-the-street neighbours by practicing Vivaldi’s Concerto in A Minor for any of the three violin recitals in which I played it. And I’ve never played a partita in the kitchen. 

This is not a smear campaign against my violin. Like a strict aunt, classical music raised me (if not a little coldly), and for that I hold a familial fondness—and always will. But what I lack in technical skill on my acoustic guitar (almost everything, actually) is made up for twice over by the few chords I can claim. Like a tiny army of their own, these chords throw themselves unabashedly at anyone who comes their way—Bob Dylan, Tracy Chapman, Simon and Garfunkel, and Beck—who themselves call to those around them to walk across the street, sing into the dark, and invite whoever is perched up there to a birthday party.

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