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Commentary, Opinion

‘Flora’ and the price of digital discipline

When the smartphone was invented, to have access to such a coveted—and expensive—piece of technology was an extreme privilege. Now, the smartphone is virtually ubiquitous—with over 90 per cent of Canadians owning one—and 21st-century users must confront a new problem: How to stop using it. 

Phantom buzz, obsessive notification-checking, and social media addiction are plaguing young people, leading to the pursuit of unconventional methods to prevent phone overuse. Teenagers buy flip phones to internet-detox, purchase phone lockboxes with timers, set their screen to grayscale to decrease its stimulating appeal, and even go as far as to buy something called the “nophone,” a piece of plastic with a weight and size equivalent to a real phone’s. Yes, you read that right: People are spending money on non-functioning plastic blocks to mimic the presence of a phone in their back pockets. The placebo phone retails for an astonishing $34 CAD.

Yet, the phone addiction fighter that has claimed the most significant popularity among university students is the Flora app. The app has amassed over 2.5 million users with its creative premise: Users cultivate a digital “garden,” in which every study session they log in the app “grows” a tree, plant, or flower. Users set a personalized study time commitment—whether it be 10 minutes or three hours—that, if completed, results in the growth of a tree. Should a person violate their study commitment by exiting the Flora app to access social media, messages, the internet, or any other app, their tree is killed—an outcome that is shared with every one of their Flora friends. Users also have the option to wire their credit cards to their account, meaning that every time they kill a tree, their bank account is charged a user-designated amount between $5 CAD and $100 CAD.  

Of course, the majority of phone users do not use this feature of the app, but its presence serves as a testament to a broader theme: Tech companies have realized that the fight against phone addiction is something that can be commodified. Like a vape to a cigarette, Flora emphasizes the negative connotations of addiction while simultaneously gaining from them. In this circular addiction economy, someone is always making a profit, whether it’s the smartphone industry or wellness app inventors. The developers of Flora, with a profit motive to maximize engagement and user downloads, had an incentive to design the app with its own addictive quality. After all, would users even employ the technology if it wasn’t colourful, full of graphics, and highly gamified? Flora, therefore, has an ironic, paradoxical nature in which its purpose may be to reduce phone use, but its solution requires downloading another app. Users then end up deepening their reliance on technology, worsening the very addiction they intended to fight and making Flora a relief mechanism, not a solution.

Although the Flora app has merit as a potential harm-reduction tool, its users must be conscious of the fact that the quest to beat phone dependency has yet to be won. There are multiple means through which true liberation from phone addiction can be achieved: Periodic tech detoxes; the use of physical—as opposed to digital—software such as paper books, planners, or calendars; and building habits and hobbies that take place off the internet, including knitting, reading, and creating art. These methods will, of course, have varying degrees of success from person to person. There is no singular or ultimate solution. However, this much is clear: Phone addiction will only be eased—not solved—by the presence of commodified technology solutions like Flora.

Arts & Entertainment, Film and TV

David Lynch at midnight

One of Montreal’s most beloved theatres, Cinéma du Parc, is currently screening the filmography of late filmmaker David Lynch for their “Parc at Midnight” series. The retrospective, named David Lynch: In Our Dreams, began on March 7 and ends on April 27.

Since launching in 2017, the theatre’s “Parc at Midnight” series has established a dedicated fanbase. Initially screening films at 11:30 p.m. (hence the name), the event now offers more accessible showtimes: Fridays and Saturdays at 9:30 p.m. and Sundays at 2:30 p.m.

Jean-François Lamarche, the theatre’s programming director, spoke to The Tribune regarding the series’ origin.

“‘Parc at Midnight’ was this idea of bringing back the nostalgia of [cult] films and this kind of feeling for people to see these films late [at] night,” he said.

The theatre had initially been preparing other programs for the upcoming edition of the series but decided it was only right to pay homage to Lynch following his recent passing. His death on Jan. 16 was devastating for many film lovers, including Lamarche, who has considered the filmmaker a key influence throughout his life.

“I’m still mourning, you know,” he said. “I’ve been listening to all his [film’s] music since then. I have a lot of his soundtracks on vinyl.”

The theatre is screening the films in the order in which Lamarche first encountered them. His introduction to Lynch’s work came by chance when he stumbled upon a VHS copy of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me at a local video store. Intrigued by the film’s cover, he watched it over and over again, utterly astonished and bewildered by Lynch’s unconventional style. 

“I think I watched it twice or three times back to back,” he recalled. “It was really a revelation. I never saw anything like that. It was brand new.”

That moment marked the beginning of Lamarche’s lifelong fascination with Lynch. During his cinema studies at Cégep, his appreciation for Lynch deepened. Whether it was watching Blue Velvet at a local cinema or hunting down a hard-to-come-by VHS copy of Eraserhead, Lamarche became absorbed into Lynch’s surrealist world.

Jean-François even recalls how, in 2006, Lynch’s final feature film, Inland Empire, helped keep the theatre afloat by attracting a large turnout. Lynch, he says, is perhaps the most adored filmmaker at Cinéma du Parc, by audience and staff alike. 

“It’s like, for Cinéma du Parc, David Lynch is a rockstar,” he told The Tribune. “After the screenings, it’s really like a rock show. People are standing in line to buy merchandise to have a memory of him at home.”

“[Lynch’s] legacy is in the ability to dream,” audience member Mark Paterson said in an interview with //The Tribune//. “I think that his films are going to be something that we can always go back to and see what’s possible.”

Another attendee, Lucile Gazquez, reflected on the ongoing relevance of Lynch’s work.

“Because we are in a violent world right now, what I like—like we see in the end of Blue Velvet—is that in violence, we still have hope,” she said.

Consistently selling out, the screenings have received overwhelming enthusiasm, drawing fans of all ages eager to admire Lynch’s films on the big screen.

“There’s a lot of people who are discovering David Lynch now,” Lamarche said. “So this is incredible, you know. There’s a younger generation that is discovering this incredible movie maker.”

With each screening, Cinéma du Parc keeps Lynch’s unforgettable vision alive. The retrospective is a heartfelt tribute to the beloved filmmaker, celebrating his unique style and lasting influence on cinema, ensuring his legacy lives on.

David Lynch: In Our Dreams is screening until April 27 at Cinéma du Parc. Tickets are available online: Student tickets are $11.00 CAD, and general admission tickets are $15.25 CAD.

On the Table

Deep dish blueberry bacon pie

I am a big fan of the Broadway musical Waitress which follows a waitress and master pie-maker named Jenna. In the musical, Jenna invents a new pie every single day for Joe’s Pie Diner where she works. The very first pie Jenna invents in the show is deep dish blueberry bacon pie, which has always seemed like an intriguing flavor profile to me. 

I’ve wanted the opportunity to make it “real.” While there exists online a few recipes for deep dish blueberry bacon pie, this is my take on it. The use of bacon fat to replace some butter in the crust creates a tender and slightly savory crust that balances the tart filling and sweet crumble topping well. With sugar, butter, and flour, this is a pie of contrasts: Flaky crust, juicy filling, crumbly and soft topping, crispy bacon. With maple syrup sprinkled throughout, it’s like a warm diner breakfast in a slice of pie. May we all be so lucky to enjoy a slice.

Time required: 10 hours, including chilling crust, assembly, baking, and cooling.

Servings: 8-10

Ingredients:

For the crust:

  • ½ cup unsalted butter, cold and cubed
  • 2 tablespoons bacon fat, cold and cubed
  • 1½ cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • ½ teaspoon kosher salt

For the blueberry filling:

  • 3½ lbs blueberries, fresh or frozen
  • ¾ cup granulated sugar
  • ¼ cup cornstarch
  • The zest of one lemon (about 2 tablespoons)
  • The juice of three lemons (about ⅓ cup)
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 tablespoon maple syrup
  • 2 teaspoons ground ginger
  • 1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • ½ teaspoon kosher salt

For the crumble topping:

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup rolled oats
  • ⅓ cup packed dark brown sugar
  • ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 6 strips of cooked, chopped bacon
  • 2 tablespoons maple syrup
  • ½ cup unsalted, softened butter

Directions: 

  1. Arrange six slices of bacon in a cold pan over the stove, and heat the pan to medium-high heat. Cook the bacon until browned on one side, flip, and cook until fully browned. Set the bacon on a paper towel-lined plate and pat dry. Let cool and chop into bacon bits.
  2. Pour the bacon fat from the pan into a small bowl and freeze or refrigerate until fully solidified. 
  3. Make the crust: In a large mixing bowl, combine 1 1/2 cups flour, 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1/2 a teaspoon of kosher salt. Using a fork or pastry blender, cut 1/2 cup of butter and 2 tablespoons of bacon fat until pieces of butter and bacon fat are no bigger than a pea. Drizzle in 6 tablespoons of ice water and mix with your hands until the dough is just combined. Some dry bits are okay. Compact the dough into a ball and wrap in plastic wrap. 
  4. Make the blueberry filling: In a large mixing bowl, combine all the ingredients listed above for the filling and let sit for 30 minutes.
  5. While the filling is sitting, make the crumble topping: In a bowl, combine the flour, oats, dark brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Next drizzle in the maple syrup and add in the softened butter, working it into the dry ingredients until it forms a crumbly, sandy mixture. Add in the chopped bacon and mix until just combined.
  6. Place a large, tin foil-lined baking sheet in the oven and preheat to 400 degrees.
  7. Remove the pie crust from the fridge. Roll out into a circle and drape over the pie plate. Lift and drop the crust to fill the plate, being careful not to stretch it too much. Press the crust into the plate, remove the excess crust around the edges, and crimp the edges however you please. 
  8. Fill the pie crust with the filling, and cover with the crumble topping.
  9. Bake for 20 minutes at 400 degrees Fahrenheit before lowering to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and baking for 50 more minutes, or until the crumble topping is golden brown and juices bubble around the edge.
  10. Let cool completely, about 4-5 hours. Slice and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Enjoy!
On the Table

A winter wonderland of drinks

Now that the weather has gotten colder, all I want in my hands is a warm beverage. So, to spread the warmth, here are my three favourite winter drinks I have enjoyed this season. 

#1 Mulled Wine

Mulled wine is a classic drink often found at Christmas markets. Served warm, this is a rich beverage filled with flavours of citrus and various spices. While this recipe takes a bit more time than others, it’s worth the effort, and as a bonus, your whole apartment will smell delectable for the next few hours! One important thing to note is that if you heat the wine for too long, the alcohol will evaporate.

Time Required: 45 minutes 

Servings:

Ingredients:

  • 1 bottle of red wine (a fruitier wine is better, but use whatever is cheapest or what you have on hand)
  • 2 cups of apple cider 
  • ¼ tablespoons of honey or maple syrup (add more or less to the desired sweetness level)
  • 1 orange sliced into rounds
  • 8 whole cloves
  • 2 whole star anise 
  • 4 green cardamom pods 
  • 4 full cinnamon sticks 
  • ¼ cup Amaretto or Brandy (amaretto will make a sweater mulled wine) 

Directions:

  1. Add wine, cider, honey, and orange slices to a large pot and stir until just combined.
  2. Next, add the cloves, cardamom, cinnamon stick, and star anise.
  3. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. 
  4. Reduce the heat to low and let it simmer for 30 minutes (do not let it come to a boil). 
  5. Stir in the Amaretto/Brandy, and it’s ready to serve.

#2 London Fog

The London Fog is the perfect accompaniment to a cozy afternoon inside on a cold winter’s day. It warms you up and keeps you awake with its small amount of caffeine. In this recipe, there is a splash of vanilla for those of you who have a sweet tooth, but this can always be substituted for a sugar-free vanilla or taken out altogether. What makes this drink so great is how little time it takes to prepare! 

Time Required: 15 minutes

Servings: 1 

Ingredients:

  • One Earl Grey tea bag (If you don’t like Earl Grey, you can make this drink with another tea you have on hand.)
  • 1 oz vanilla syrup or ¼ teaspoon vanilla extract 
  • 8 oz of your milk of choice 

Directions:

  1. On the stovetop, warm your milk to around 150 C to 160 C or until it is steaming (alternatively, microwave the milk in the microwave for 30-second intervals).
  2. Take your pot off the stovetop and place your Earl Grey tea bag into the milk. Steep for 3 to 5 minutes (note that the length of time you steep your tea will change the strength of the tea flavour). 
  3. Pour the vanilla into a mug and mix in your steeped milk mixture. 

Tip: I enjoy my London Fog with some biscuits! 

#3 Snickerdoodle Hot Chocolate

Grab your favourite mug and get ready to try a new staple winter drink, the Snickerdoodle hot chocolate. This recipe is for those who like their drinks on the sweeter side. 

Time Required: 15 minutes

Yields: 4 servings

Ingredients:

  • 4 cups of milk of your choosing 
  • ¼ teaspoon Kosher salt 
  • ⅔ cup of white chocolate chips
  • 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon 
  • 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract 
  • ⅛ almond extract 
  • Whipped cream* (can be store-bought or homemade)

Directions: 

  1. Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring continuously, until all ingredients are combined and the chocolate chips have melted. 
  2. Serve, adding whipped cream on top.

Features

Watched, but not protected

In January 2020, McGill student Elizabeth* settled into Redpath Library’s Cyberthèque around 6 p.m., across from an unfamiliar man. Around 10:30 p.m., he began looking at her repeatedly, bumping his foot against hers. She moved her chair away to avoid the contact.

As closing time was announced over the loudspeakers, the man began mumbling at Elizabeth with a distressed, urgent expression. She asked him what was wrong, but he continued to mutter, so she moved closer to hear him. He was attempting to make small talk. 

Elizabeth didn’t want to chat, but also didn’t want to be rude. So, when he began to ask Elizabeth about her program and what she had been working on, she answered. When she asked reciprocal questions, he said he was a “graduate,” but deflected her other inquiries, including what his name was. This set off Elizabeth’s alarm bells, and she backed away.

Immediately, the man began asking questions about where Elizabeth lived, who she lived with, and how she would get home. He called her “very pretty.” Elizabeth felt that the man had purposefully waited for the library to start closing before making an advance. She told him she was in a relationship, worried he might “become irate or violent” if she rejected him. The man didn’t care, stating that he wanted to become close to Elizabeth because he didn’t have a woman in his life. He told Elizabeth he’d been watching her all night, and that he had stayed behind at the library to talk to her.

Elizabeth’s phone had died, and now the man was watching her computer. She continued loudly telling him to stop in hopes that other students would step in.

Finally, help appeared to arrive: A McGill security guard on his rounds began checking people’s student IDs. The man became nervous, saying he didn’t have his. 

When the guard approached their table, Elizabeth mouthed “help”, and tried to show fear with her body language as he scanned her ID. Yet, when the man told the guard he didn’t have his student card, the guard walked away without escorting the man out, simply saying he should leave. Elizabeth’s hope was gone.

Elizabeth’s harasser began saying he wanted to take her home, describing what he would do to her. He asked her to “make out” despite her now-constant “no’s”. He told her he would follow her home, then stood “looming over” her. She told him she was going to call security because he was scaring her, which finally persuaded him to leave. 

Elizabeth quickly used Facebook on her computer to ask her boyfriend to pick her up. As she made her way to meet him outside, she encountered another security guard at the exit. As Elizabeth told the guard about her situation, he repeatedly said she should have called security, and should have been less friendly with her harasser. When Elizabeth explained her dead phone, her fear of provoking the man, and another guard’s failure to help her, the guard began to make excuses. Elizabeth asked him to make security aware of the situation, then left. As she and her boyfriend drove away from campus, they saw her harasser lingering near the library complex.

Elizabeth submitted a nine-page document of explanation to McGill Security, asking them to review camera footage to identify the man. She described him as dark-haired, around 5 feet 10 inches. She also noted his dark-coloured backpack. 

Elizabeth never encountered the man again—in person. But this past month, she saw a poster that had been plastered around Milton-Parc: “CALL 911 IF YOU SEE THIS MAN, 5’10-5’11, MCGILL GHETTO STALKER: TRIED TO BREAK IN AND HAS BEEN LOOKING INTO GIRLS WINDOWS”. The man? Elizabeth’s harasser and his backpack, five years later.

—-

Elizabeth’s story is an example of Campus Public Safety’s frequent apathy towards sexual harassment in the McLennan-Redpath complex. More broadly, Campus Public Safety’s selective security approach—failing to protect women students, despite visibly employing many guards around campus—directly undermines the university’s core values of freedom and inclusion. 

Why do students feel there is such a large security presence at McGill, yet still not feel safe in the biggest library on campus? Campus Public Safety must start taking those who report harassment in these core McGill spaces seriously.

Elizabeth’s story is not an anomaly. In October 2023, second-year Jessica* was studying on the second floor of McLennan. It was relatively empty, but a man sat across from her, adjusting his body to match her every move for over an hour. Eventually, he appeared to start filming her chest. 

After around 10 minutes, Jessica found a security guard, telling him she suspected she was being filmed. The guard told her to call McGill’s security office “to take care of it.” 

The man who appeared to have filmed Jessica suddenly exited the library past her and the guard. Jessica urgently told the guard that the man was right there, but the guard did not act.

“I’m paying this university so much money, I would expect them to invest in security that wants to do their job and would actually be able to keep me safe,” Jessica said in an interview with //The Tribune//.

As Jessica left McLennan, she passed her harasser. When she turned around a few moments later, he was walking behind her. Jessica re-entered the library complex through Redpath, then re-exited through the McLennan doors. The man was still behind her. She booked it to the metro station, managing to lose him on the way. 

In the coming days, the man frequently began leaving McLennan at the same time as Jessica. She continued making loops around the library complex on her way out, and he continued to tail her. After a few weeks, he stopped. She has not seen him since.

Jessica told //The Tribune// that, considering how apathetic a McGill security guard had been when she had reported her situation, she “wouldn’t ever go to [security] ever again” for help.

“Had the guy maybe stopped him that first time and just been like, ‘You’re not allowed in this building,’ at least, I might have felt safer,” she said. “But obviously, they didn’t do anything.”

___

In a written statement to //The Tribune//, the McGill Media Relations Office (MRO) confirmed that details about how Campus Public Safety operates are not public.

“In terms of complaints about how we dispatch resources, we do our best to serve our campus communities and their various needs,” the MRO wrote. “When we receive complaints, we take them seriously and seek to address the issues of concern.”

Yet, Elizabeth reports that she didn’t receive a supportive follow-up from McGill after submitting her complaint, beyond an email exchange saying her situation was being investigated. The emailers referred Elizabeth to the Office for Sexual Violence Response, Support and Education, which had a waitlist at the time.

The MRO stated they were unable to speak about situations like Elizabeth’s and Jessica’s.

“We do not comment on them, notably out of respect for [their] privacy,” the MRO wrote.

If Elizabeth’s perpetrator is the same 39-year-old man believed to be the “McGill Ghetto Stalker” charged this month with voyeurism, then he has a documented history of sexual crimes, including against individuals under the age of 18. His multijurisdictional charges date back to at least 2010

“They have cameras they could use to identify this man,” Elizabeth told //The Tribune//. “Do they really think my situation is the first time he’s come here?”

Jessica echoed Elizabeth’s frustrations.

“You have all this proof in front of you that there’s at least one guy who’s doing this, and it’s just like, you have a description, you’ve seen him,” Jessica said. “If [they] were to check the cameras, they would see it all happening [….] It would be so easy for them to just do their job.” 

“Something is directly wrong with where [McGill’s] money goes,” Elizabeth said. “They make too many millions to keep letting these guys slide.”

The MRO said they were aware that a man was arrested in Milton-Parc, and that he had possibly harassed McGill students.

“Our understanding is that it may be the same person who appears to have targeted some of our students, living off campus, in a privately administered housing earlier this year,” the MRO wrote.

The Students’ Society of McGill University’s Vice-President University Affairs Abe Berglas described claims they’ve heard in an interview with //The Tribune// that campus security is both unequipped for and unfocused on serving students. 

“There’s a lot of justified concern about […] importing security guards who traditionally have been security for concerts or malls, and bringing them to a university environment,” Berglas said. “They’re stationed to buildings, and not people. So you’ll have them outside windows that were previously broken or outside the James Administration Building.” 

Berglas addressed how people in favour of campus security often explain to them that the presence of guards makes them feel there are “‘reliable witnesses’” on campus. 

“When things like discrimination or sexual and gendered violence happen to students, it makes me empathize with the desire for […] security that would step in,” Berglas said. “I also think that does not need to be a security agent.”

Security’s failure to maintain libraries as open, accessible spaces for all is affirmed by the myriad of McGill Reddit threads describing the sexually inappropriate behaviour that students have experienced there. Meanwhile, reports of private security forces contracted by Campus Public Safety detaining actual McGill attendees or McGill calling on the Service de police de la Ville de Montréal to use force against student protestors raise major concerns among certain contingents of the student population about the aggressive tactics deployed by security who do take action. While students were required to present their IDs to access campus around Oct. 7, 2024, a man with a history of sexual crimes posing a threat to students in the library was allowed to stay there without any student card. Campus Public Safety’s priorities are out of line.

Berglas explained that a campus safety model they would like to see would be an “active bystander culture.”

“I think we should just responsibilize every McGill member, and that way, we will be safer,” Berglas told //The Tribune//.

Active bystanders indeed successfully helped protect an Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill member in December 2024 //from// security guards who had physically detained her. Onlookers who recorded this incident helped hold the guard accountable and prevented escalation—Campus Public Safety’s supposed job. Holding security accountable can only be achieved by this kind of collective action.

McGill keeping its libraries open to all is essential. It is a civic duty for such a major institution to foster accessible spaces that give back to the community. But free access to university libraries does not mean they should be “free-for-alls.” In the written statement Elizabeth submitted to security, she expressed how guards’ inaction emboldened her harasser’s behaviour, rather than resolving it. Her experiences have coloured her sense of safety on campus ever since.

“Since the incident, I am hesitant to carry on coming here at all hours by myself, and feel that I am not as safe on campus as I had assumed,” Elizabeth said. “At the end of the day, security guards are the centre of public safety on school grounds, and need to be more observant and compassionate instead of assuming things are alright or getting defensive.”

Instead of focusing on building new student spaces, McGill needs to focus on improving its security in existing ones before threats to call Campus Public Safety like Elizabeth’s fail to deter perpetrators. As we move into exam season and spend more late nights in campus libraries, effective and compassionate security intervention must be McGill’s priority. In the meantime, we as a student community must act on our peers’ pleas for help, and call out insufficient or harmful reactions from security guards when we see them. 

//*Elizabeth and Jessica’s names have been changed to preserve their anonymity.//

//If you have experienced sexual violence, you can seek support through the Sexual Assault Centre of the McGill Students’ Society, or the Centre pour les victimes d’agression sexuelle de Montreal// 

Editorial, Opinion

McGill, it shouldn’t take bodies to believe Indigenous voices

During the 2023 provincial election, Manitoba’s Progressive Conservative (PC) government refused to support a search of the Prairie Green landfill, which local police suspected contained the remains of several missing Indigenous women. This week, investigators found remains of Marcedes Myran on the site, proving that the calls for an investigation from Indigenous activists and families of victims were not only justified, but that government inaction actively obstructed justice.

The PC’s opposition to conducting the search was not a logistical decision as much as it was a demonstration of whose lives the PC government deems worthy of recovery, and of whose suffering the state is willing to dismiss. The PC government’s justification—that “for health and safety reasons, the answer on the landfill dig has to be no”—makes their priorities clear. The well-being of the families forced to grieve without closure was not a factor in their chosen course of action, nor was the mental health toll of forcing Indigenous communities to fight for the dignity of their lost loved ones. If health and safety were a genuine priority of the PC government, as they have claimed, not only would the appropriate levels of support and involvement be granted to Myran’s case, but action would be taken toward protecting Indigenous women while they are still alive.

This case is not an isolated failure. It reflects a deeper pattern within Canada’s justice system; one in which Indigenous people’s knowledge and experiences are routinely dismissed.

The underreporting—and often misreporting—of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls, and Two-Spirited people (MMIWG2S+) cases creates a paradox of hypervisibility and invisibility. Indigenous women are hyper-visible in the sense that they are often stereotyped in media and law enforcement narratives as sex workers or deceptive figures, reinforcing racist and harmful perceptions. These stereotypes are also often turned on them as a reason for their disappearances or murders. Yet, when they go missing or are murdered, they become invisible, receiving little media attention compared to white women in similar situations. This discrepancy reveals a thinly veiled racism, where public empathy and urgency are reserved for certain victims while Indigenous women are objectified and denied the same humanity as white women.

Myran’s murderer’s documented history of white supremacist and misogynistic views points to the role of extremism in gendered violence against Indigenous women. His case is not just one of individual pathology, but is indicative of a broader climate in which Indigenous women are uniquely vulnerable—both to violence itself and to the state’s failure to provide protection or condemn its perpetrators. The ability to kill Indigenous women and evade consequences is not incidental; it is the result of a system that has long devalued their lives. Online hate—unchecked and ignored for years—serves as a breeding ground for this violence, yet law enforcement rarely intervenes until it is too late. Recognizing these murders as hate crimes is essential, not just for legal accountability but to acknowledge the ideology that fuels them. 

Systemic reforms must address how the government classifies, investigates, and reports on MMIWG2S+ cases. The National Inquiry into MMIWG calls for alternatives to Canada’s current neocolonial justice systems and greater police accountability, but the police continue to rely on restrictive legal definitions that obscure the crisis. Data collection must be in line with the lived realities of those affected, not bureaucratic categories, and Indigenous leadership in policymaking is essential. Without it, decisions remain in the hands of individuals who are unaffected by the violence and are therefore able to dismiss its prevalence and severity.

The same systems that allow people to murder Indigenous women with impunity enable McGill to ignore the ongoing demands of the Kanien’kehá:ka Kahnistensera (Mohawk Mothers), who are seeking a comprehensive investigation into the site of McGill’s New Vic Project, where the Mothers believe there may be unmarked Indigenous graves. By refusing to properly investigate the New Vic site in accordance with the Mohawk Mothers’ wishes, the McGill administration has not only been complicit in colonial violence but has actively obstructed justice, prioritizing financial and reputational interests over truth and healing. The Mothers have spent decades fighting for the dignity of their kin, yet McGill continues to dismiss their demands, refusing to acknowledge that the land on which the construction is taking place may hold the remains of missing children. 

McGill students must critically reflect on their own lack of awareness about violence against Indigenous communities. The university itself, with all its power and resources, has—and continues to—suppress Indigenous claims rather than confront its colonial legacy. If McGill or the PC government truly care about reconciliation, they must not only listen to Indigenous voices but also reckon with the violent history they enable and seek to bury.

Commentary, Opinion

Point Counterpoint: A debate on pro-Palestine protest tactics 

Aggressive protest methods may alienate moderates, and make for less effective movements

Daniel Miksha

Over the past year, persistent protests played out on McGill campus in solidarity with the Palestinian people. Though smashed windows, encampments, and sod-pulling make headlines, some of these protest tactics alienate more politically moderate members of the McGill community, resulting in a weaker activist movement overall. 

I suspect a large block of the student body is passive with regards to pro-Palestinian groups on campus not due to a lack of sympathy for the suffering of Palestinians, but because they’re uncomfortable with the way protests in solidarity with Palestine are conducted.

To earn the support of moderates and form a more impactful political force, activists need to explicitly centre the humanitarian destruction wreaked by Israel’s campaign in Gaza, and be wary of using actions and language that can be misinterpreted or make people defensive.

Slogans like ‘Globalize the Intifada’ and ‘All the Zionists are Terrorists’ do not communicate the fact that the IDF killed at least 13,000 Gazan children since Oct. 7 of last year, nor the fact that Gaza has the highest rate of infant malnutrition globally. For many, the messaging associated with campus protests can either be impenetrable or easy to misconstrue. By contrast, messaging that highlights the gravity of the human suffering unfolding in Palestine appeals directly to the conscience.

Furthermore, being a McGill student is a significant part of a diverse set of students’ identities, and activists should capitalize on the fact that our identity as McGillians unites us. Instead of chalking slogans like ‘McKKKill’ on the Roddick Gates, bringing some students’ identities as McGillians inadvertently under threat, activists should use slogans like ‘McGillians united for Palestine’.

If activists want to build the popular support needed to produce tangible change, they need to meet students where they’re at. Potentially divisive slogans need to be swapped for precise messaging, and opaque ideological language needs to give way to simple appeals to humanity. When so many lives are at stake, it’s irresponsible to risk alienating people sympathetic to the cause


Disruption is the essence of effective protest

Yusur Al-Sharqi

The argument that confrontational protest tactics alienate moderates assumes that the approval of the politically passive should dictate activism. But how many of these so-called moderates were engaging with the cause before disruptive protests took centre stage?

Pro-Palestinian activists at McGill and broader Montreal have engaged in peaceful resistance for years, holding demonstrations, raising funds, and organizing educational events. The encampment is a prime example. If peaceful and palatable messaging were enough, the killing of over 30,000 Palestinians—including more than 13,000 children—would have already moved institutions and “moderates” to action. Instead, universities like McGill remain complicit, continuing partnerships with weapons manufacturers and refusing to disclose investments, while “moderate” students continue to disengage.  It seems to me that the discomfort that “moderates”  feel is not a discomfort with protest tactics but an apathy to the human suffering that is taking place—otherwise, they would be at the peaceful fundraisers, marches, and book talks.

The debate over protest tactics for Palestine is not new, especially within the Arab community. Many Palestinians themselves reject aggressive demonstrations, often out of fear of reinforcing stereotypes or alienating potential allies. However, experts argue that, once initial outrage fades, aggressive protest tactics end up receiving the most attention, and subsequently result in long-term action. History—and the present—shows that moderation has rarely been enough to achieve justice. Anti-apartheid activists were criticized for being dangerous. Suffragettes were labelled extremists. Yet in every case, history vindicated those who refused to cater to the sensitivities of the “neutral.”

Realistically, the protestors’ goal is to catch the attention of McGill’s Board of Governors and emphasize the urgency of the issue—not necessarily to persuade the majority of students to support their cause. In fact, numbers don’t seem to be a problem at all: The SSMU Policy Against Genocide secured the support of 71 per cent of student voters and saw the highest voter turnout of any SSMU election in recent history.

To be clear, I am not condoning violence nor destruction—but I do think that it’s cowardly to be more outraged by the vandalism of buildings than by the murder of thousands of innocent people. As The Tribune has written before, “Student protest is meant to disrupt the status quo,” and at some point, demanding attention through disruption is necessary.

McGill’s administration will not change when students politely ask (news flash: they’ve tried that). It will change when its normal functioning is made impossible—or, at the very least, more difficult. Activists do not need to “meet students where they’re at” when where they are at is a place of inaction. 

Commentary, Opinion

Why the death of a broken USAID is an opportunity for a new world aid system

U.S. President Donald Trump’s recent order to defund the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) will undoubtedly have negative global reverberations. One hundred seventy-seven countries currently receive crucial foreign aid from the U.S., of which roughly three-fifths is distributed by USAID. This aid has been a lifeline for impoverished and war-torn regions since the agency’s founding almost 64 years ago. Haiti, for example, benefited from aid delivered in the wake of catastrophic earthquakes in 2010. But this aid was delivered through a highly flawed agency in need of dire reform. In light of this, European countries have an opportunity both to expand their aid networks to make up for lost U.S. funding and learn from USAID’s flaws. By reckoning with a new reality in which the global community can work constructively and collaboratively to undo injustice, the loss of U.S. funding can be turned into a force for good. 

USAID was an important symbol within the global capitalist system, demonstrating that the U.S. could turn its highly privileged financial position into a meaningful force for good not only for Americans but for the broader human race. The program showed that affluent countries have a duty to fight against injustices globally, be they environmental or man-made. Indeed, countries like the U.S. and Canada which have benefited hugely from oppressive, violent, and generationally damaging practices such as enslavement and the genocidal killings of and ongoing policies against Indigenous peoples, have a particular duty to do so. 

It is within such a history of oppression, especially by western countries, that global aid programs should be understood. They have the power to re-distribute wealth and prosperity to those who have been robbed of it, and this is why the global community must react with decisiveness to make up for the loss in U.S. funding and extend programs where possible. Considering their history of benefiting economically due to the oppression of other nations, developed nations have a particular obligation and capacity to bring about meaningful change, especially in the sphere of climate adaptation which has been largely ignored by USAID. 

Importantly, and most unfairly, the countries most affected by climate change are those who have historically contributed the fewest emissions. Europe has contributed 22 per cent of global cumulative emissions, giving it a strong imperative to help smaller, less developed countries adapt to and thrive in a changing earth system. Additionally, eco-racism has soared in recent decades with developed countries bringing about widespread ecological damage in the developing world. Ghana, for example, has become the dumping ground for the fast fashion industry, causing massive water pollution. 

To address these issues, European nations can learn from the slew of serious issues with USAID that actually damaged long-term prospects for recipient countries. For one, despite a range of critically important investments, aid is often delivered with only short-term immediate economic growth in mind. Some of the U.S. government’s aid to Haiti, for example, supported low-wage garment factories instead of the kinds of sustainable agriculture that would help make the country self-sufficient and less reliant on food imports. 

Perhaps more importantly, the question of who receives aid is a highly contentious one. Billions of dollars of USAID funding have been funnelled towards countries with pro-U.S. authoritarian governments. This is not to say that people should be punished for the actions of their unelected governments, but understanding why and how aid is distributed to some regions more than others is crucial to understanding how aid agencies can work more equitably in the future. Trump’s recent push to sign a $500 billion USD ($721 billion CAD) minerals deal with Ukraine in return for a peace deal is a dangerous message that U.S. support always comes at a price. Modern aid agencies must use these failures as a blueprint for what not to do.

This is not to say that USAID should not exist. It should, and the decision to remove it will ruin the lives of many. To counter its loss, the rest of the world, and Europe in particular, must act boldly by restructuring and increasing funding for aid agencies to ensure that historic ills delivered on developing countries do not go unaddressed. Their impacts are being felt to this day and will continue to do so unless dramatic changes are made.

Off the Board, Opinion

 Solo side quests are self-care

In my first year of university, I saw crowds of first-years playing games, eating snacks, and sporting matching Frosh t-shirts, aware that I didn’t have one. Over dinner, a friend said, “I’m worried you’ll be lonely this weekend.” 

“No,” I responded with a smile. While I appreciated the care and concern, I planned to use the time to explore the city. I’d already filled my schedule with solo trips to Verdun Beach and the Biodome.

While my choice to abstain from Frosh partly revolved around the event’s hefty price tag, it really centred on my obsession with solo trips. I love spending my afternoons meandering Old Port and adding new shops to my list. Wandering around the base of Mont Royal in autumn. Beyond a nice break from school and work, my random “side quests” give me a sense of self-fulfilment. Walking towards a destination I’ve chosen or completing a “challenge” that I’ve set for myself allows me to accomplish personal ambitions, even if they are small. My solo trips drive me to engage with the world around me, instead of being in a bubble at home or school. Ultimately, the objective of a good side quest is to feel a sense of peace. To step out of my hectic busy life and spend some me-time.

The internet, it seems, has recently fallen in love with the concept of the side quest. The term comes from video gaming, where a player is allowed diversions irrespective of the game’s main objective. From that original definition, the term has since grown to mean any fun, purposeful activity that doesn’t align with our work or school lives.  Side quests can be in the form of projects like learning a new language or crocheting a hat, but they don’t necessarily have to be productive. Aimlessly strolling through your local library—no goal in mind—works too. 

On social media, many creators will vlog their trips to the park, painting, arcade, beach, and more. Usually, those side quests will be completed with friends. Mini-adventures with friends connect us in ways that simply can’t be done online or in a professional setting. Yet as side quests bond us to our friends, solo side quests bond us to ourselves. One doesn’t need a group of friends to play in the snow, look through shops, or go out to the movies. Doing common, social adventures in solitude is freeing—the only person I need to experience fun and relaxation is myself.  Additionally, side quests often incorporate valuable self-care practices like exercise, fresh air, and time away from screens.

This isn’t to say that doing side quests on one’s lonesome can’t be lonely. On my fifth self-picnic in the span of one summer month, I started to go a bit nuts. It felt like the perfectly shady spot I’d found and the baked cookies I made were going to waste if I was the only one enjoying them. Not to mention how distressful it can be to stew in your thoughts for a day. Yet feeling comfortable in solitude is a side quest in itself, and a rewarding one. Through side quests, I get to direct my own adventures and explore places I might never have gone if I were with a group. It made me realize that treating myself to a nice experience is just as important as sharing it with friends. In fact, it has made me appreciate moments spent with others even more because the memories that would typically be mine alone are now shared amongst my friends.

As a student, I’m forced to spend a lot of time by myself—for homework, studying, and daily commutes—but through solo side quests, I’ve been able to embrace the solitude. Being alone isn’t “sad” but a necessary part of our lives, and I might as well have fun doing it. So, if you want to take that trip, go to that restaurant, see that movie, or embark on your first spring picnic, don’t be afraid to do it by yourself.

Letters to the Editor, Opinion

Letter to the Editor: The mission of McGill Security Services 

Last week, The Tribune reported on the detention of a University Affairs (UA) staff member. In the Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM)’s report of events, they wrote that an armed guard “attempted to question her and said that he would break her camera while refusing to identify himself or tell her what she was accused of.” 

The mission statement of Campus Public Safety is to “make McGill a place that is safe, and to provide an open environment that fosters learning and education.” It is a commendable mission. In light of this mission statement, students should be able to go about lawful activities without being threatened with a gun. The Dec. 11 detention of a UA staff member threatened the safety of a McGill community member and those nearby. It is the responsibility of Campus Public Safety to protect the McGill community from external, aggressive armed parties like these.  

My staff member reported that she was not allowed to leave the McConnell Engineering Building because she refused to show her McGill ID. After requesting to see any documents that mandate the presentation of student ID in this scenario, the Campus Public Safety Operations Manager said no security services documents can be shared. 

I submitted an access to information (ATI) request about the Security Services’ Standards, Policy & Procedures Manual, including a document that had already been released to SSMU in 2017 in a previous ATI request. McGill withheld the entire manual, even the section that had been previously disclosed.  

The Campus Public Safety site has changed since March 2024. All staff names have been wiped, making the ‘Senior Director’s message (previously signed by Pierre Barbarie) especially meaningless. Since February 2024, names have been removed from the description of ‘Our team’ in the ‘Contact Us’ section. The positions of Administrative Coordinator (Security Services), Operations Manager (Security Services, Downtown Campus), Supervisor (Investigations and Community Relations), Manager (Physical Security Systems), and Associate Director (Environmental Health and Safety) have been removed entirely, making them uncontactable, presuming they still exist.

Finally, a new section has been added to the site: ‘Agent Engagement.’ It says, “Note that agents will produce identification upon request unless there is an estimated risk to their safety. If you have a concern or wish to file a complaint about our services, please complete the online Complaint form or email [email protected].”

Upon request by a SSMU employee, the Bureau de Sécurité Privée (BSP), the regulatory body that governs private security in Quebec, confirmed that when McGill guards refuse to show a license upon request, they are breaking the BSP regulations and should be reported. 

While a complaint form has been in place for years, its existence is not well known. Finding the form is no easy task—on the Campus Public Safety website, one must click on ‘Report an Incident’ for the ‘File a complaint’ menu to appear. When my staff member filed a complaint about her detention, she received a message stating that she would “receive a reply from the Associate Director/or designate by email confirming that a review of [her] complaint [was] underway in a period of no less than 48 business hours,” but she never heard back.

In 2022, the blurb about Security Services read, “[t]he Security Services Team strives to create and maintain a safe campus experience for students, staff, faculty and visitors. If you have any questions or concerns, please reach out to us. We are here to serve the McGill community.” The 2024 version read: “We offer our services on a 24-hour basis to all members of the McGill community. Our agents patrol the campus, manage access, transport students and staff with disabilities as well as respond to incidents and emergencies.” The difference in the self-description of security services from 2022 to 2024 encapsulates a change in mission from community care to one that positions itself against students, treating them as potential criminals rather than essential stakeholders.

According to Provost Christopher Manfredi and Vice-President (Administration and Finance) Fabrice Labeau, McGill does not train its private security contractors on university policies such as the Charter of Students’ Rights, drawing rightful concern from students. But the first McGill security agent to arrive on the scene also reprimanded my staff member for refusing to leave, even while she was being detained and pinned to the wall. Security services are protecting abusive agents—including agents belonging to outside parties—at the cost of student safety.

When students complain about a heightened security presence, they are worried about their physical safety. While other universities’ security departments provide a range of services, including first aid, travel accompaniment, and site security assessment—resources that foster links between the community and security—McGill shirks these resources onto student groups. Those not covered by SSMU don’t exist at all. An outsider assaulting a SSMU staff member, and the subsequent involvement of McGill agents, is an opportunity to address students’ mistrust of security services. It is an opportunity to commit to a fresh approach to campus safety. But instead, our questions and concerns go unanswered.

Abe Berglas is the Vice President University Affairs of SSMU

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