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Art, Arts & Entertainment, Private

Art history student takes art to the streets under pseudonym Sloast

Instead of hibernating in McLennan, the student artist known as Sloast has spent her graduating year steadily building up a fan base. With 1,300 Instagram followers, her support  is strong and growing. She was featured in The Market Cooperative in the Students’ Society McGill University’s (SSMU) ballroom where she first started selling her artwork, and her stickers can be seen floating across laptops on campus. She was even contacted by the University College London (UCL) to participate in their “Homeless Period Project,” an organization that provides impoverished individuals with access to sanitary products. Despite this growing notoriety, Sloast remains relatively anonymous and chose to omit her real name for this interview. 

While her artwork is scrawled across Montreal’s walls, signs, and street posts, Sloast is first and foremost a student, on the verge of recieving her degree in Art History. 

Apart from a professor who allowed to submit a painting in place of a final essay, Sloast creates mostly outside of the classroom. She experiments with a myriad of mediums, including painting, drawing, and printing stickers. Particularly interesting is her venture into street art. 

“You don’t have to be anyone to do street art—you just have to go and do it. It’s very opportunistic, and very democratic,” she explained. 

While she reveres the art form, she also recognizes the ways in which it is problematic.

“Street art is a process of gentrification,” she said. “It’s a way to bring tourists into the city, and raise rent prices. It brings the elitism of the gallery into the streets. The city pays for the murals to be here. Street art is supposed to be subversive, but how can it be subversive if the city wants it here?”

Insightful and self-aware, this criticism extends to her own privileged position, one that she readily acknowleges. Sloast describes the financial and emotional support her parents have given her as invaluable, and is cognizant of the advantages her privelege affords her. 

“I’ve never had an issue with the cops, and being white has helped with that,” she explained.  “I’m not seen as threatening.”

 Sloast’s mindfulness is a driving creative force. While not overtly political, her pieces are a reaction to a long precedent of white, male artists—a history she has studied throughout her degree. Her tag, “Eye see you,” gives women agency. 

“It is an active female gaze,” Sloast said. 

Sloast’s work is broadly influenced by feminism, spirituality, and the natural world, and she finds a nexus between these themes both aesthetically and thematically. Her pieces blend together inorganic pinks, purples, and blues in psychedelic patterns, sometimes incorporating a woman’s face and body, other times merely abstract. At the moment, she looks to ecofeminism for inspiration. 

“I am interested in Mother Nature as a living entity,” Sloast mused. 

As she enters her final month of university, Sloast is overwhelmed by the onslaught of final essays and exams, just like her peers. However, she is also planning where the next phase of her creative journey will take her, looking to travel to São Paulo, Brazil to teach and make art. 

Despite the stress, Sloast looks forward to the creative freedom graduation will bring. 

“Art for me has been a great way to de-stress and relax, which makes it less statement or political based,” she explained. “I hope once I’m out of an academic mindset that I can [channel] that critical energy into my art, as opposed to my papers,”   

Hesitant to limit herself to a permanent address or profession, Sloast has not envisioned a concrete future for herself. Nonetheless, Sloast is ambitious and brave. Just as she has done throughout her years at McGill, she is likely to continue carving unique opportunities for herself. 

“I know if I keep working, more opportunities will come,” Sloast said. “I have a lot of faith and courage in myself.”

Student Life

Switch it up: Five ways to make every day a new beginning

Life at McGill can sometimes seem a bit stale. Same routine, same classes, probably the same meals, and the same stress that permeates what everyone says are the ‘best four years of your life.’ Lucky for us, we have the power to switch things up.

8:00 a.m. – Start the day with some inner peace

As soon as you wake up, skip the social media notifications and texts from friends—just breathe. Take five or ten minutes to clear your mind and leave all worries behind. Whether you’re a meditation-pro or new to it all, there’s always somewhere to start. Apps like Headspace and Calm are excellent options to  guide you through meditations and deep-breathing if you’re new to the practice. If you’re already well-versed in the world of inner peace, there’s good news for you: It doesn’t end at the morning routine. You can practice mindfulness throughout the day by focusing on the present moment and putting all you to-dos to the side as you enjoy what’s in front of you. There are many ways to be mindful, but starting small with a few minutes-long meditation each day is a great first step.

10:00 a.m. – Perform a random act of kindness

Not only do you have the power to better your day, but you can also drastically improve someone else’s. McGill’s atmosphere tends to foster competition and intense stress, often resulting in very individualistic thinking. Make a radical—and sweet—change by doing something with someone else entirely in mind. Drop by Tim Horton’s and pick up some coffee and a few Timbits for your best friend or classmates—it’ll brighten their day, and seeing them happy will make you feel great. Don’t fret if you’re tight on money; simple, kind acts go a long way in making someone’s day better. Whether it be a compliment or giving someone your seat on the metro, random acts of kindness bring out the best in others.  

11:00 a.m. – Enjoy an ‘alternative school day’  

Once in awhile, give yourself the thumbs up to go play hooky—but resist the temptations to stay in bed and sleep the day away. Instead, catch a matinée showing of Beauty and the Beast and have buttery popcorn for breakfast—or hit up the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts and spend the afternoon admiring the works of Marc Chagall. While missing class can lead to more stress and is not recommended for everyone, it can be fun to ignore your responsibilities and indulge the five-year-old in you. Other options include making your own pizza, hiking up Mount Royal, studying at the cat café, or watching all eight Harry Potter movies in one go. There’s something about having fun on a weekday—maybe just because you’re supposed to be studying—but the day is yours, so make the most of it.

6:00 p.m. – Get creative with your food

Make something besides bland chicken and broccoli for dinner, and cook up a dish that’s both delicious and totally out of your tastebuds’ comfort zone. Have you been noticing those Tasty videos all over your Facebook newsfeed? Now is the time to try them—from fried mac n’ cheese sticks to a potato asparagus tart, there are endless mouthwatering options.

9:00 p.m. – Find the good in each day and write it down

While you can’t control what happens to you, you can control how you react, and trying to see the silver lining can go a long way. Positive thinking has immense physiological benefits, from living longer to developing a stronger immune system. But if you tend to see the glass half-empty,
noticing the inherently good parts of each day can be hard. To channel your inner positive thinker, try a ‘happy jar.’ At the end of the
day, write down something wonderful that happened on a small slip of paper and
date it. This helps to focus on the good parts of your day, even if it was
rather awful overall. Once you’ve written something down, fold it up and toss it into a
container of your choice. The next time you’re having a really bad day, you can
simply open up your jar and sift through the little notes and happy reminders.
Every day comes to an end just as every day brings a new beginning; the moment
the sun rises, you have an opportunity to see and feel the good—try to take it.


You don’t have to wait until New Year's Day to make resolutions; change happens whenever you want it to—and we get a new chance at it every day.

Football, Hockey, Martlets, Men's Varsity, Sports

The Path Back: McGill alumni return to lead

“[Attending McGill] was the most life-changing experience for me,” Redmen wide receiver coach Ryne Bondy  B.A. ‘13 said. “The experience I had in Montreal, at McGill, was so amazing that it made me want to stay, so I wanted to try and create that culture as well for the current players.”

Assistant coaches are an integral part of any sports team and, while long-term job-security might not be in the cards for many of these coaches, all have a common desire to help their athletes reach their full potential. At McGill, there are a few recently-graduated former athletes who chose to stick around Montreal and work with the next generation of Redmen and Martlet athletes. Bondy, former Martlet hockey player Alyssa Cecere, and former Redmen hockey player Dave Urquhart now all serve as assistant coaches for their former teams.

The most profound thread between these coaches is a deep connection with the team and the school they once played for, but their backgrounds are diverse. Bondy played multiple sports before settling on one as a McGill varsity athlete. 

“I literally played anything I could,” Bondy said. “But football was probably the [sport] I was most passionate about, I even played during the summer for a couple city teams as well.”

For Cecere, the assistant coach of Martlet hockey, McGill was part of her life long before she applied to the university.

“My mom had worked in athletics when I was young,” Cecere said. “I had McGill in the back of my head ever since I was a kid.”

However, McGill does not call to everyone. Some, like Urquhart, had to reach out to McGill themselves.

“For me, it was a little more serendipitous,” Urquhart said. “I sent out packages to two Canadian schools, and McGill was one of the two, and I had a response from [former Redmen hockey head coach] Marty Raymond, who was here [before current head coach Kelly Nobes], and that’s how I ended up at McGill.” 

Playing on a McGill team means different things for every player. Most loved the team camaraderie, but for players in sports like football, where large rosters always means an influx of new players, the connection goes even deeper.

“We were a huge recruiting class,” Bondy said. “We had about 30 or 40 guys, all freshmen, [and] there were 10 of us in New Rez together, so we had a strong support system there.”

Naturally, as this group grew to become team leaders for the next generation, the time came to return the favour for a new rookie class.

“As a freshman player comes in, we set them up with a third- or fourth-year player who’s their mentor, someone who’s in the same program,” Urquhart said. “When you get in your third and fourth year, you’re already in a phase of your hockey career where you’re not only playing to improve your game, but you’re also looking at improving the people around you.”

Mentorship programs are not uncommon in McGill sports and the upperclassmen who take up these roles do so with intense commitment. 

Alyssa Cecere, 2012. (http://icehockey.wikia.com)
Alyssa Cecere, 2012. (icehockey.wikia.com)

 

“It was something that we took to heart,” Cecere said. “We always wanted the younger players to have direction, but also want to be in that position one day to be able to lead the younger group.”

Since there are plenty of former McGill athletes with leadership experience and a passion for teaching, it makes sense for the team to reach out to alumni when a coaching vacancy appears. 

Often, teams will wait a few years before bringing in an alumnus to coach; however, in some cases, the spot needs to be filled immediately. When he was asked to be a quarterback coach for Redmen football in 2012, Bondy had not yet graduated and had just finished his last season as a player.

“There’s a lot of coaches out there that are kind of scared to maybe bring in a coach right away, as soon as he’s done playing, because he’s friends with a bunch of the guys on the team,” Bondy said. “I think it wasn’t really an issue having played with a lot of those guys or being friends with them, I think it really helped and it was much easier to coach those guys.”

 In other cases, alumni who later became coaches spent time away from the university to shape their careers. These graduates put everything on hold to come back.

Between graduating in 2011 and being appointed an assistant coach in 2014, Cecere had played for the Montreal Stars, coached at Dawson College, and held multiple jobs as a physical education teacher. 

“When this [coaching job] came up, it kind of closed some doors,” Cecere said. “It closed my playing career, it closed my teaching at that time, but it kind of put everything into one.”

Assistant coaches also have to deal with uncertainty in their career–these positions are not permanent. Many coaches only stay for a few years and spend their time preparing for their next professional step; however, coaching is a profession where it is nearly impossible to know what that next move will be.

“Whether it takes me elsewhere, I don’t know,” Cecere said of her future. “It’ll depend on what other doors are open, what other options there are.”

Assistant coaching is not usually meant to be a permanent job. It is often a stepping stone for those aspiring to a higher sports career. Yet, some former players come from halfway around the world to coach for their old programs: Urquhart was playing pro hockey in Italy when he was offered the position at McGill.

David Urquhart, 2013. (hockeytime.net)
David Urquhart, 2013. (hockeytime.net)

 

“My last year, we won the Italian championship,” Urquhart said, “The assistant coach who was with Kelly [Nobes] before […] left to take a job in the QMJHL, and Kelly called me about this job opening up.”

With two years left in his five-year contract in Italy, Urquhart took the job and came back to Montreal. Being able to give back to future generations of Redmen hockey players and to stay connected to McGill were crucial factors in his decision to return.

“I look at the people, I look at the players in the dressing room and I know they’re all going to be stars at whatever it is they decide to do, whatever field they end up in,” Urquhart said. “I feel like it’s pretty special being able to be a part of their lives and the development of these people that are gonna be leaders in whatever field it is they end up in.”

When athletes come to McGill, they often enter without a specific place in the McGill community and their teams become their connection to the university. With these deep-rooted ties to athletics, former players often don’t think twice about returning because they want to give back to the program that gave them so much as players and came to define their university experience.

Editorial, Opinion

Searching for McGill pride

School spirit at McGill is an elusive concept. McGill students lack the hallmarks of typical university pride, like packed varsity games and roaring homecoming events. Attendance at McGill varsity games is notoriously low, and our homecoming is a far cry from the raucousness at other universities. That isn’t to say that McGill pride doesn’t exist–it just manifests itself differently. It doesn’t stem from a star quarterback, or a rowdy tailgate party. Instead, it comes from the shared day-to-day experiences of McGill students , and the diversity of smaller communities that they build during their time here.

It’s natural to want to attach a sense of pride to the post-secondary experience. For better or worse, university catches people at their most vulnerable–on the cusp of adulthood and often living alone for the first time, armed only with a student card and a couple of course packs. It’s a phase of life in which students’ identities are still solidifying. Their university experience inevitably colours that process.

For some students, McGill isn’t a distinctive aspect of their identity. It’s simply the campus that they walk through to go to class, get their degree, and then move on through life.

For others, their time at McGill is distinctive for negative reasons. It’s no secret that McGill puts its students through the ringer. Whether by maneuvering the infinite regress of Service Point, or just trying to get up McTavish in one piece, many McGill students seem to emerge from graduation more like scarred veterans than anything else. For those still fighting the good fight, it can feel like the institution isn’t here to help students, but to simply churn out exceptional individuals–the next generation of remarkable doctors and engineers and entrepreneurs. For those that aren’t already remarkable, it’s easy to get left behind. McGill expects everything of its students, yet seems to offer little to help them succeed.

The McGill degree is an uphill battle; however, it’s also a shared battle. There is a sense of camaraderie on campus drawn not just from the struggle of six-hour cram sessions or navigating Minerva, but from the common values that daily hurdles foster. McGill constantly challenges its students, and literally invented pain.

 

It’s hard to find a single definition of McGill pride because there isn’t just one–McGill school spirit is a sum of experiences as diverse as the students that go here.

Suffice to say, McGill students are accustomed to fighting to survive, and this scrappiness extends beyond the classroom–McGill students are conditioned to be critical of the world around them. There is a culture of activism on campus, and of actively, constantly seeking positive change. When McGill students are confronted with injustice or incompetence, whether at the level of student government or the administration, they identify it as such–and, often, push to make it better in constructive ways. This productive criticism is integral to our brand of school spirit.

Moreover, while McGill itself may not offer adequate care or support, much less a sense of pride, students find these things in the people they encounter, and in the communities they join. At other universities, school spirit often revolves around a common, unifying experience, like a winning football team. McGill doesn’t have a single focal point like that. Rather, it offers a range of smaller clubs, teams, and organizations. Between hacking competitions and frat houses, tightly-knit faculty and departmental associations and cultural societies, there’s a seemingly unlimited variety of niche groups at McGill. It’s through these smaller groups that students find the sense of belonging and connectedness that McGill, as a larger, more distant entity, lacks. It’s through these groups that students build their own McGill experience–and their own version of McGill pride stems from that experience, rather than from the institution as a whole.

McGill school spirit may be difficult to pin down, but that doesn’t mean it’s nonexistent. It exists in the passion and dedication that McGill students exude, whether applied to their studies or to a worthy cause, and in the sheer diversity of communities that make up “McGill students.” It’s hard to find a single definition of McGill pride because there isn’t just one–McGill school spirit is a sum of experiences as diverse as the students that go here. And that’s something to be proud of.

 

Off the Board, Opinion

The rationale behind feeling

When at a crossroads, one may turn to confidants, religious texts, philosophy, or even the dubious self-help book section in search for answers to the problems of life’s minutiae. Along this vein, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) has become my latest interest in popular psychology. Its dichotomies based on Jungian theories can be read as mindlessly as a daily horoscope prediction and yet, the test is reportedly used by 80 per cent of Fortune100 companies when recruiting. For this reason, some professionals even take pride in their assigned label and include their personality type on their LinkedIn profiles.

According to the MBTI, one dimension of someone’s personality can be characterized by contrasting two styles of managing one’s emotions: Thinking and feeling.

In competitive, result-oriented academic environments like McGill, students who possess ‘feeling’ type traits are often undervalued. From a young age, one is taught to keep emotions in check in the public sphere. Later in life, this defence mechanism is given a less provocative name: Professionalism. Those who don’t conform to the mold of a stoic leader are automatically viewed as erratic and unfit to manage others, since they apparently aren’t in control of themselves. ‘Hot-headed,’ ‘irrational,’ and ‘fragile’ are all terms peers may throw at those who let slip their humanity. Feeling types’ sensitive dispositions are associated with weakness and they can be quickly written off as being too ‘soft’ to undertake leadership positions. However, individuals prone to taking the wellness of others around them as seriously as a ‘thinker’ would evaluate data are equally capable of navigating the turmoil of a workplace.

In the face of conflict, thinking types will rationalize when approaching a dispute. To them, establishing the absolute truth takes precedence over emotional casualties; logic drives their decision-making in an attempt to keep outside influences and internal biases at bay. Still, not everyone systematically uses pro-con lists or empirical facts to make up their mind. Others have the natural ability to assess the impact of actions on group dynamics. Enter the feeling types: the emotionally expressive peacemakers of the world, those who favour diplomacy over delivering harsh truths.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Individuals prone to taking the wellness of others around them as seriously as a ‘thinker’ would evaluate data are equally capable of navigating the turmoil of a workplace.

Whereas thinking types excel at spotting logical inconsistencies, feeling types are more concerned with the nuances of human thought. They attribute more weight to the values, perspectives, and overall well-being of others, when reaching a decision.

Because emotion is often presented in opposition to rationality, it can seem foolish to value others’ momentary reactions. Make no mistake, feeling types can be rational beings. The key difference between them and ‘thinkers’ is where they base their logic. It just so happens that others’ sentiments are the fundamental premise of feeling types’ reasoning. Their behaviour isn’t intended to be a form of manipulation; rather, it is what they consider the most effective and, hence, most logical way of achieving their goals.

Naturally, university presents students with a series of scholastic and personal challenges to overcome. The stakes are higher, emotions are amplified, and briefly losing sight of the utility of one’s Liberal Arts–or dare I write–STEM degree, is very likely after threading through the nth wave of midterms. There is pressure to consistently perform outstandingly in a setting where classmates can just as easily be seen as competition. And yet, students should not feel that their propensity for one pattern of thinking over another makes them any less suited for any academic or professional challenges that lie ahead. Being in tune with one’s emotion and with those of others alleviates the periods of self-doubt that may arise throughout one’s studies.

Since college can’t be experienced in a vacuum, exercising empathy is vital for effectively communicating our thoughts in a manner that others will understand. Whether one participates in a Political Science conference or collaborates on a marketing project, engaging with peers and professors is inevitable. In these circumstances, those who are more aware of their emotions and with those of others have an edge over empirical purists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holly Cabrera is U1 English Literature student and a News Editor at the McGill Tribune.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Private, Student Life

The mysterious world beyond Roddick Gates: Apprehension in the face of New Beginnings

As the end of the year approaches, many McGill students will venture out of the world of undergraduate studies. Yet even after convocation, many choose to return to university, this time for graduate school. While going to grad school can be a fun and rewarding experience, social pressure to earn post-graduate degrees and the burden of adulthood leave many students feeling apprehensive about this decision.

One such voyager into the land of graduate studies is Claire Motyer, U3 Music. She has recently been accepted to a Master’s program in Performance Science across the pond at the Royal College of Music in London, England. While this is an exciting new prospect, Motyer worries if she can both financially afford and emotionally handle more schooling.

“[The fact that I have] already been in school for four years and doing another degree right away is what is holding me back a bit,” Motyer said. “It can be draining for me not to take some time off. I’m not worried about the program I would be in, I think the program I chose is a good fit for me and I’m excited about that. It’s more aspects like living in London, overseas and far away, and the financial [aspects].”

Melanie Greenwald, U3 Arts and Science, is also ready to graduate this semester and head into more schooling. Though her post-grad arrangements are not quite set in stone, she plans to return to her hometown on Long Island and study at a graduate school near her parents’ home to save money. For Greenwald, the deflating value of an undergraduate degree is pushing her to attend grad school; however, she worries that finishing a Master’s degree will still not be enough to help her find stable employment.

“I’m worried about not finding a job with just a bachelor’s degree,” Greenwald said. “Or even with a Master’s degree, which is what I’m going for. It’s asking yourself, ‘How am I going to find a job?’ [….] I feel that in the 60s, [since] everyone got a high school degree, [people were] like, ‘Now we have to go to college [to compete….]’ It’s really bad for people who can’t afford that [because] university is expensive.”

There’s a lot to worry about when getting a Master’s degree in modern society. On top of the fatigue of completing more schooling comes the fact that in North America a bachelor’s degree is perceived similarly to how high school diplomas were once viewed—a basic necessity. According to a 2014 article in the National Post, 51 per cent of Canadian adults have at least a bachelor’s degree, but many post-secondary graduates earn less than the national median. This is because the saturation of degree-holders have forced many employers to increase their qualifications. Low-paying jobs that used to only require a high school diploma now require a bachelor’s degree or more. Yet, according to the same article, a Master’s degree earned immediately after university can make job applicants seem overqualified, despite having no job experience. This leads to many Master’s graduates who are either unemployed or underemployed, making it difficult to pay off even the $27,000 average debt owed by bachelor’s graduates. These realities can cause a lot of apprehension for those pursuing even higher education.

Despite the many factors that can make one hesitant about attending grad school, the Washington Post found that a Master’s graduate who acquires a job earns more than a bachelor’s graduate on average in the U.S. There’s also the fact that for some, going into a field one is passionate about gives excitement and hope about what lies beyond the bounds of Strathcona or Burnside.

“I really find it very appealing going to London since it’s a new environment, […] so I’m really excited about the abroad aspect, experiencing a different city and being able to travel around there,” Motyer said. “I’m hopeful about expanding my network and meeting new people. Also, I’m really happy that I’m doing this [program because] it’s something I really like and am passionate about.”

Ultimately, the apprehensions of going to grad school are rooted in the pressure to be successful and live a stable life.

“[In the end], I just want to be stable, financially stable, living in harmony, and being happy,” Greenwald said “Maybe in a romantic relationship, maybe having a family. That’s too far in the future. Definitely, I want to be financially stable and in a house where I don’t have to depend on my parents and I’m happy working and doing what I’m doing for a living.”

Art, Arts & Entertainment

Printemps Numérique at the McCord Museum

I’ve only just walked into “After Hours Fashion Tech,” an exposition on fashion technology at the McCord Museum, when an usher slaps a futuristic white watch on my wrist and a bartender thrusts an almond-lavender gin cocktail into my hand. I’m equipped, buzzed, and ready to maneuver this dense crowd mingling underneath similarly mobile spinning geometric neon lights while DJs pump steady bass heartbeats into the cavernous showspace. Some artist in their underwear is twisting into yoga poses in front of a mirror under muted red lamps.  This is the future of fashion, bitches.

The McCord Museum of Social History presented “After Hours Fashion Tech” last Thursday night. The exposition was a one-night-only technological extravaganza highlighting the beginning of the “Printemps Numérique” (Montreal Digital Spring), Montreal’s 2017 theme for the city’s annual slew of summer festivals. Scanning the showspace, I notice that I can get holographically fitted for a bra or, for men, a full suit, which seems slightly incomparable, but whatever. A knee-high shelf in the centre of the room displays half a dozen impossibly high heels designed to look like surf-caught seashells and sparkling cliffs. Some have feminist mantras etched into the heels’ wedges. I immediately wish I had worn heels of my own so that I could easily see over the crowd, to where people are getting fancy mini-burgers. 

The ultra-modern aspects of the exhibition stand in sharp contrast to the newest temporary exhibition, the Expo 67 (running until October 2017)—a collection of hostess dresses and other colourful outfits hailing from the year 1967. It’s somewhat unclear how much the interactive elements of tonight are meant to work with the Expo display, but patrons tired of the loud DJ hide deep in the maze of pastel suits, swirling their cocktails. While the exhibit is itself visually lush, to my chagrin, nothing about it is interactive besides a spacesuit-clad mannequin that flushes with LEDs when someone walks in front of a hidden camera in the lapel. I ask for a demonstration, but the museum employee informs me that it’s broken at the moment; remarkably poor timing, considering it’s not a permanent part of the Expo.

Some woman in a virtual reality (VR) headset is stumbling around a cleared semi-circle, using her arms to paint a 3-D dress. I try the headset after her, marvelling at the level of detail in my vaguely dress-like creation. Two minutes later, however, I have to step back to make space for the next Picasso fashionista. Again, I wish that this were a permanent part of the Expo 67 collection, since this Cinderella-esque single night of stylistic innovation would serve a as a greater inspiration for the masses if it could stay.

It seems the primary purpose of this event is networking, given the clusters of tightly packed people clinking glasses and wearing glowing watches, but the friend who accompanied me tells me the usher accidentally registered my synchronized watch under another person named Virginia. I will take time now to apologize to that Virginia for using my watch’s insta-contact-swapping powers to swiftly maneuver an awkward dude in a suit trying to flirt with me. I cut him off­—one press of the watch’s single button, and both of our watches light up in apparent synchronization, allowing me to politely leave the conversation. What an unexpectedly awesome side benefit. Please ignore that automatic email from a certain clingy “Claude,” Virginia.

Ultimately, it’s unfortunate that this exposition will not last beyond tonight, as it would be an excellent addition to Expo 67 and no doubt the VR experience would draw visitors. But if this display of technological innovation in fashion is a mere example of what to expect for the festival scene this summer, then the coming months are bound to be exciting and explosively colourful.

Science & Technology

MNI research sheds light on link between magnets and memory

Desperately looking for new ways to cram for upcoming exams? Researchers at the Montreal Neurological Institute (MNI) of McGill University have discovered a way to improve sound memory performance in the brain using magnetic pulses.

The researchers of the study, published on March 23 in Neuron, asked study participants to perform auditory memory tasks while their brain activity was monitored. Participants listened to pairs of short melodies, which were either the same or had slight pitch changes, and had to identify a change in the pattern.

It was previously known that a network of neurons in a region of the brain called the parietal stream played a role in auditory memory. However, prior to this study, the role of theta waves in this brain region had not been understood.

By using two types of brain scanners called magnetoencephalography (MEG) and electroencephalography (EEG), the MNI researchers were able to detect pulses of theta waves in the parietal stream when the study participants performed auditory tasks.

“We identified that in this very region there was a certain rhythm of theta waves that was strong when the task required the involvement of working memory,” Dr. Sylvain Baillet, a co-senior author of the study and Professor in the Department of Neurology, Neurosurgery, and Biomedical Engineering, explained.

To further explore the relationship between theta waves and auditory memory, the study proceeded to expose the theta waves to transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) while performing the same set of tasks.

The researchers predicted that TMS would stimulate and enhance the theta waves in the parietal stream, which in turn would improve working memory.

Before the stimulation began, the researchers programmed the TMS exposure to correspond to the rhythm of the theta oscillations. While being induced with TMS, the participants performed the same memory tasks, but this time with increased improvement.

Interestingly, the theta activity in the brain predicted the participants’ performance, according to Philippe Albouy, the study’s lead author.

“This means that the more theta waves the brain is generating, the better the participants are at their tasks,” Albouy said.

It was also crucial that the TMS pulses were in sync with the theta oscillations.

“The benefits in terms of performance [were] observed mainly for the rhythmic stimulation only,” Albouy clarified. “This makes a link between ongoing theta oscillations and [the potential] to modify the rhythm of those oscillations to boost participants’ performance on a given task.”

To verify their theory, the researchers repeated the experiment, but this time with non-rhythmic magnetic pulses. This did not result in any improvement in memory, highlighting the fact that the rhythmic magnetic pulses were key.

Interestingly enough, the TMS machine itself produces a certain sound when activated. This led some researchers to believe that it may be possible that the sound itself improved memory; however, this was quickly disproved.

The implications of this study may lead to more research on the benefits of TMS on not only auditory memory performance, but vision, perception, and learning, as well. Additionally, it may even have clinical applications, such as aiding Alzheimer’s—a disease that damages neurons and memory in the brain.

However, Albouy and Baillet temper speculations of future TMS treatments and insist further research must be done. This study only proved the effects of TMS on short-term auditory memory. The next step for the researchers is to test the long-term effects of stimulation to determine if plasticity in the brain tissue can be altered to improve memory in the long run.

Commentary, Opinion

Why McGill should extend its shuttle hours

Home to the Faculty of Agricultural and Environmental Sciences, which offers majors such as Bioresource Engineering, Nutrition, Environmental Biology, and Agronomy, the Macdonald Campus is a small slice of McGillian greenery on the waterfront of Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue. However idyllic this setting may seem, as a student at the Macdonald campus it can be difficult to feel like a part of the McGill community. Many downtown students have little to no idea what the Macdonald campus is, and Mac students often confine themselves to the West Island when they could interact more with their peers downtown.

While Mac offers small class sizes in a picturesque setting, students often want to experience the downtown Montreal as well, and going between McGill’s two campuses can be a struggle. The bus ride is free, takes about 40 minutes, and offers Wi-Fi access, however, the shuttle only runs from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. on weekdays. An extension of the shuttle to 8 p.m. every weekday is needed. Extending the shuttle hours is important because of events, classes, and club meetings that take place after 6 p.m., and would help bridge the noticeable divide between the two McGill campuses.

After the shuttle service ends at 6 p.m., students must take the infamous 211 bus, which is a 90-minute ride. Because of this constraint, I often find myself not attending certain events downtown due to time and money. Many students have classes on both campuses. Some classes end as late as 7:30 p.m., which means that these students miss the last shuttle. Club meetings and events, which are difficult to organize during the day due to busy class schedules, often take place in the evening. Furthermore, more shuttle rides would make the probability of missing the shuttle due to student overflow much lower, a relief for students who commute to and from Mac every day.

A two-hour extension of the shuttle would give Mac and downtown students alike a greater opportunity to explore all that McGill has to offer.

Advisors stress that extracurriculars are important and that students should be involved as much as possible. For me, this means participating in things that I find worthwhile and important, which are often clubs and events that often take place at both campuses. Mac has a good array of clubs, but they are mainly major-specific and applicable to the campus, including areas such as nutrition, environment, agriculture, and engineering. The downtown campus, however, with a much larger student body, offers more cultural, volunteer, and other niche opportunities for involvement.

Going to an event or club meeting downtown in the evening, capitalizing on the wider range of activities, means planning my whole day around it because of the 3-hour round trip via the bus and metro. I chose not to take a Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) Minicourse downtown this semester simply because it ended at 7:30 p.m.

While the shuttle extension would be especially beneficial to Mac students because they would be given the opportunity to expand their interests and try new things downtown, the extension would also benefit downtown students. Not only would club organizers be able to tap into the Mac campus student body for new members; there are quite a few clubs and events at Mac that downtown students can partake in, such as the McGill Wildlife Association, the Out of the Garden Project, and Happy Feet.

A two-hour extension of the shuttle would give Mac and downtown students alike a greater opportunity to explore all that McGill has to offer. Further, keeping both Mac and downtown students better informed about both campuses is necessary to bridge the disconnect between the two student bodies. The issue of finding adequate funding cannot be ignored, but should be examined and negotiated with student well-being in mind: Extending the shuttle hours by two hours would be hugely beneficial to the McGill community.

 

 

Emma Gillies is a U0 Environmental Biology student, a hot chocolate lover and an avid squirrel photographer.

 

 

 

 

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