To nobody’s surprise, there was no shortage of topics to write about this year. From domestic violence in the NFL, to the lack of accountability seen in McGill Athletics, or even the way in which sports commentators use racial stereotypes to describe athletes’ performance, it is clear that sports culture has a lot of problems, many of which escape criticism. The sheer variety of issues shows that sports are inherently political. While they can be tools for empowerment and community building, sports can also perpetuate racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and more forms of oppression.

Take, for example, the way McGill Athletics chose not to make consent training mandatory for athletes, despite the allegations of sexual assault against three McGill football players last year. True or false, these allegations prove the existence of a systemic problem that McGill, through its complacency, is unavoidably a part of. Another example of this complacency is the failure of McGill Athletics to change the name of their men’s varsity teams, despite widespread criticism. This name is a racial slur rooted in colonial violence, and by refusing to address and change the name, McGill is failing to take a stand against this racism.

We see the same trends in professional sports. The NFL still does not have a concrete sexual assault policy, consequently classifying instances of sexual assault as isolated incidents, and refusing to acknowledge it as a systemic issue. The rhetoric surrounding athletes of colour, such as Marshawn Lynch and Richard Sherman, shows that sports writers and commentators can spew racist and sexist language–including, among other things, describing such players as ‘thugs. They escape without much criticism from mainstream media and are coupled by a lack of concrete action afterwards.

Sports’ problems need to be recognized, and the culture needs to change. It’s not all feel-good stories and shiny trophies – the level of apathy surrounding these issues in the world of sports is part of the problem. These injustices are real, and they need our attention. In order to make a difference, we need to wake up and start challenging these problems, instead of running away and burying our heads in a pile of our favourite team’s memorabilia. So, before cheering on your favourite team, whatever sport it may be, take a second to think about what you can do to actively combat this problem – whether it is speaking up on a blog or boycotting certain teams or figures within the sports community. Make your voice heard. If you’re not part of the solution, you are definitely a part of the problem.

Note: In order to bring attention to the racist and colonial history of the McGill men’s varsity team’s name, the Sports section of The McGill Daily has chosen to no longer use the R*dmen name in the section.

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On February 4, Williams announced that she would be ending her 14-year boycott of the Indian Wells tournament. In 2001, Williams was attacked by boos and racial slurs when walking onto the court, whereafter she pulled out of the tournament. Unfortunately, this was not an isolated incident. In 2007, while at the Sony Ericsson Open, Willams again faced racial slurs. This time at least, the ‘fan’ was removed. This is harmful and disgusting behaviour, prevalent in many places, but especially in tennis. In 2014, the president of the Russian Tennis Federation, Shamil Tarpischev, referred to the Williams sisters as the “Williams brothers” while comparing them to Russian players, who he described as “elegant and beautiful.” He continued by joking about their size, saying that when they pass by, “remains in their shadow for forty seconds.” Tarpischev’s remarks use the Williams sisters bodies’ as the butt of a joke that plays into racialized stereotypes. Serena Williams responded by condemning his remarks as racist and sexist, and he was later fined and banned for 12 months by the Women’s Tennis Association.

Racially motivated jokes such as these are not uncommon. In 2012, Caroline Wozniacki decided it would be funny to impersonate Williams by stuffing her front and behind with towels. Some have defended this as ‘innocent fun,’ that the two are ‘friends’ and it was ‘only a joke.’ However, as Dominique an editor at the feminist writers’ collective Disrupt Dinner Parties pointed out on Twitter, Wozniacki’s actions were merely an “old racist trope about our supposed hypersexuality and sexual abnormality.” In tennis, a historically white, upper-class sport, black bodies are under constant criticism.

The hypersexualization of women of colour has existed throughout history, and women of colour are still stigmatized for not having bodies that adhere to the Western construct of beauty. The tennis community is not an exception. The Williams Sisters, have felt the brunt of this racism due to their high status within the sport–but in no way is it limited to them. Taylor Townsend, another tennis player of colour, is the number one-ranked junior player in the world. At the age of 15, she secured wins at the Australian Open and Wimbledon, making her the next budding superstar of the sport. However, despite all of her accomplishments, the United States Tennis Association (USTA) refused to fund Townsend until she lost weight. Townsend is the most dominant player in junior tennis, but still, the only thing the USTA is concerned with revolves around her appearance. This is because it doesn’t fit into the dominant mold of what a tennis player looks like, which is a thin, white woman. This is a problem that Williams has had to battle as well. “As a black tennis player, I looked different. I sounded different. I dressed differently. I served differently. But when I stepped onto the court, I could compete with anyone’ Williams said. Sports should be a place where one is valued solely on their ability; tennis has yet to achieve this.

This discrimination stems from the sport’s long history of racism, which it has yet to confront. In the 1960s, Alabama only had three tennis courts that were open to people of colour, while 119 were open to white people. This statistic marks a nationwide trend. Though courts have since been desegregated racist microaggressions are still all-too-common. For example, this exists in the way that sports commentators talk about William’s games. She is described as lacking strategy and being overly aggressive by commentators. Crunktastic, a blogger for Crunk Femmisnim, says the result is the media painting her as a “hypermasculine, ‘unattractive’ [woman] overpowering dainty, white female tennis players.”

Williams, currently ranked as the best tennis player in the world, still has yet to receive the same level of respect that white players in her position have been afforded.
Williams has won 19 grand slams, and it is likely that Townsend will follow in her footsteps.However this sucsee does not mean they will not face institutionalized racism. Which is not only damaging to them as individuals, but also to the sport. It serves to uphold the racist divide in tennis that fosters a harmful environment to play in.

As the Serena Williams are set to make their return to the Indiana Wells tournament, it is clear that it is still important to question the racist structures still in place in tennis today. There is no place for racism in sport, and although some changes have been implemented, it is not enough to solve the problem.

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McGill has an institutional culture that is common in research universities: undergraduate education is undervalued, while academic research is prioritized. The result is a cold and informal brand of education. Look, for example, at how first-year courses are structured: lecture-style courses with huge enrolment numbers in which students have little to no contact with the professor, but rather with a group of teaching assistants (TA) who very often have next to no pedagogical training.

Because class sizes are big, students can often feel ignored. This is harmful because a lack of individualized attention stunts educational development. It’s true that some academic staff don’t care, and teaching is merely something they have to do to receive grant money; however, it’s an oversimplification of the issue to place the blame solely on TAs and professors. Instead, we should blame the constraints that are placed on them by McGill. It’s nearly impossible for a professor to give 500 students individual attention, even if all the professor had to do was just teach. Research universities require staff to do much more than teach in order to get tenure, and it’s expected that they will produce work that will increase the prestige of the school. While this work is valuable, in some ways the cost is paid in the quality of undergraduate education.

Prioritizing research puts the education of undergraduates on the back burner, and students are tested using methods that only suit a few.

Another way in which education at McGill founders is through its use of large-scale assessment methods. Multiple-choice exams, which are common at McGill, don’t foster critical and connective learning. Knowing the right answer does not equate to being able to connect it to the big picture, and regurgitating information is not indicative of critical thinking. If anything, this method of assessment stunts intellectual development.

Some will still argue that having everyone do the same assessment provides a level playing field, but this is just false. Everyone has a different way of learning, and whether it be visual, auditory, kinesthetic, or otherwise, the way in which you learn will directly affect how you well you will do on tests. For example, an auditory learner retains knowledge by either hearing or speaking, while kinesthetic learners retain information through tactile experience. If you assessed both students through an oral exam, the auditory learner would do better, because the assessment method plays to their strengths.

The fact is, there is no one way to measure someone’s intelligence or grasp of a subject. Trying to impose one form of measurement is not only unfair to some, but often discouraging and dismissive. The reason the system is set up this way is to make it easy to point out who is the ‘best’: either to make it easier for companies to hire from a mass of similar people, or for McGill to be able to boast of its success and secure more funding. But what’s the point in this? Standard assessment methods are almost completely subjective – the only thing they show is that the student can succeed within the specific constraints of the institution. Test results do not measure the kind of creativity and independence of mind that makes you grow as person.

Education should be a mutual agreement between student and teacher, where the student tries their best to learn and the teacher does their best to convey information to them in a way that fits their learning style. A good learning environment accomplishes this focusing on the quality, rather than the quantity, of the content. Real learning requires a personal relationship that allows new perspectives to not only be heard but valued, and an environment where different styles of learning are welcome.

Knowing the right answer does not equate to being able to connect it to the big picture, and regurgitating information is not indicative of critical thinking.

Unfortunately, this is not the kind of learning environment that we have at McGill. In order to improve the quality of education at research institutions, students need to be considered the priority, instead of numbers. McGill needs to turn toward alternative models of education, which put individual student needs ahead of everything else, in order to stop discriminating against students based on poor teaching and subjective assessments.

Though the situation seems bleak, it’s actually not out of the grasp of research universities to adopt an alternative model. Take the faculty of Education at McGill: students are able to form a distinct and meaningful bond with their professors, which allows them to express how they want to learn. In my experience, it’s not uncommon in an education class to have the professor offer several options for final assessments in order to cater to the different learning styles of their students. In other words, students are put first, and everyone has an equal opportunity to learn. This learning environment fosters the idea that knowledge is the main goal, and grades are secondary. It also creates an enjoyable atmosphere that allows students to look forward to classes and learn out of genuine interest, and not out of fear of failure.

McGill could also place greater emphasis on community-based education. The value of engaging with local communities as a form of education is that people’s lived experiences become just as valuable as the professor’s voice. This is incredibly important for tackling social justice issues, because it allows students to view the issues that they study firsthand and engage with people who actually have a stake in them. It’s clearly more valuable to learn Indigenous history from an Indigenous community, rather than from a book written by a white settler.

The value of engaging with local communities as a form of education is that people’s lived experiences become just as valuable as the professor’s voice.

Research universities could start shifting to this model by actually valuing their communities, and working toward community engagement. The Social Equity and Diversity Education Office (SEDE) at McGill already does this. Another example is the ECOLE project, which not only conducts applied research on sustainability, but goes beyond this by offering a community space and a model for sustainable living. This allows students to continue their education beyond the walls of the classroom, leading to self-motivated and exploratory learning. These initiatives are good, but things would improve further if the model were applied more widely.

Some people might argue that there is no use for alternative education, and that they went through a large research institution and were able to thrive. But whether they would like to admit it or not, most people have had a teacher at some point in their life that encouraged real learning. This may sometimes happen at McGill, but the institution is not set up in such a way as to encourage real education. If anything, it discourages learning, and discriminates against some forms of learners. It’s only fair that we structure our higher education systems so that we might all have that chance.

Drew Wolfson Bell is an Education student and the Sports editor at The Daily, but the views expressed here are his own. To contact him, please email sports@mcgilldaily.com.

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Homophobia has been an omnipresent force in skateboarding since the urethane wheel was invented. Some of the most revered pioneers of the sport, such as the late Jay Adams, helped foster this homophobic culture in skateboarding from its inception. Yet despite this, he never faced criticism because of his ‘legend status.’ Here’s a fact most skateboarders don’t know: in 1982, Adams started a fight with a man named Dan Bradbury in an incident that Adams later described to Juiced magazine “We went to a place called the Okiedogs and two homosexual guys walked by and I started a fight. That’s just how every fuckin’ night was for me back then.” Bradbury died that night in the fight. Adams said he left before the man was dead, and only served six months in jail. This year he was honoured at the Transworld Skateboarding Awards, and he has also been called the “spark that started the sport.”

However, individuals are not the problem; it’s bigger than that. It’s about how the sport reacts toward diverse sexualities. An example of this is Tim Von Werne, who used to be a pro skater. In 1998, his career was cut short after his sponsor pulled an interview where he talked about his sexuality. In most skate interviews you will find sexist, racist, and homophobic remarks, yet it seems there is no room in skateboarding to have a candid discussion about sexuality without the person being ostracized.

Skateboarders latch onto the fact that it is a sport run by skateboarders – we want to have board companies owned by skaters, our media in the hands of skaters. In short, we want to be a community that makes its own choices. It breaks my heart to see that the community that I have identified with my whole life, the one that helped me through the hardest parts of high school, the one that gave me the inspiration to beat cancer, and the one that I truly love, has such a deep legacy of hate, and holds a hateful man as a legend. It is shameful.

As skateboarders, we are quick to defend our own. We assume that if someone is a skateboarder, they have endured enough social isolation. This is false. It is true that skateboarders come from all sorts of backgrounds, with a varying range of privileges and opportunities, but none of this is an excuse to engage in hateful behaviour. Period.

Homophobia was not relegated to just a dark chapter in skateboarding history. It would be false to say that we have come to terms with this history while acknowledging our oppressive behaviour. We should be continuing to practice good allyship by actively working to be a more inclusive sport. Some skaters will say, “Hey, I’m not homophobic, this is not my problem.” Unless you are actively challenging this hateful behaviour, your complicity is part of the problem.

If you go to any skate park, you will hear kids of all ages yelling homophobic remarks at their friends. It has become so ingrained in skateboarding vernacular that it is not uncommon to be reading an interview and see several homophobic remarks. One skateboarder that is a perfect example of this is Forrest Edwards, who became infamous after participating in a video contest called “Slap’s One In A Million” – comparable to skateboarding’s version of American Idol. Edwards was filmed repeatedly making unapologetic homophobic remarks about other contestants’ behavior, and even took it as far as their selection of tricks. However, his homophobic behaviour was never called out because he is an incredibly talented skateboarder, who has not only been given a pro model board, but has received a fair amount of media coverage. Homophobia in the skateboarding community is so normalized and accepted, that hateful slurs have no impact on peoples careers.

When you’re a kid and you fall in love with skating, you really do go head over heels. You pick up all the magazines and all the videos and try to imitate your favourite skaters’ behaviours. It is not uncommon to even try to mimic your favourite skater’s diction. When young skaters see this language though skate media, they think it’s okay, and in some cases even add the slurs into their vocabulary because they think it’s cool. This all serves to reinforce this hateful culture.

Since this homophobia is never called out, young skaters grow up thinking it is normal to use homophobic slurs. These young skaters become old skaters and never learn that the language they use is hurtful. The sad truth is that a skate van is no different from a locker room, except instead of Gatorade bottles, there are beer bottles.

Why do we tolerate this behaviour? If we are as free-willed as we claim to be, shouldn’t we also use this free will to break the mold of sports culture and be progressive? I truly believe that change can be made. In fact, we have already seen a few people within the industry take a stand against this homophobia. Robert Brink, a skateboard journalist, has taken a stand multiple times against homophobic language and also strives to raise awareness, while Nike SB pro Stefan Janoski released a ‘Be True’ colourway of his pro model shoe, with proceeds going toward the LGBT Sports Coalition to support the goal of ending discrimination in the sport. Another example is Alex Olson, a pro skater, who owns his own board company called Bianca Chandon, and who released a board series called the House of Bianca, which is a tribute to ball culture. The money from the board sales will goto help the Hetrick-Martin Institute to help LGBTQ youth. It is clear that some people in the skateboarding community are starting to call out the behaviour of their peers, and it is through this that the skateboarding community will hopefully shed its homophobic ties.

It is time to change. We as skateboarders are in a unique position, where we actually have a great deal of agency. It is time to end this homophobic culture and become what skateboarding was always meant to be – a culture where no matter who you are, if you love to skate you will be welcomed with open arms.

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Since then, we have seen the same phenomenon play out over and over again. For instance, in 1980, when the U.S. beat the Soviet Union at ice hockey, it was viewed as a battle of ideologies, with Western capitalists coming out on top. Another instance was when the Soviet Union played Hungary in water polo, after the failed Hungarian Uprising of 1956. The tensions escalated into such a rough game the match is still referred to as the “Blood in the Water” match.

Sports are – and have always been – political. Because of this, it is not uncommon for athletes to become embroiled in political issues. This has paved the way for the ‘activist athlete.’ In no way is this a new trend; for years we have seen athletes come out and use sports and competition as a venue to voice their political views.

One example of this can be seen at the 1968 Olympics, where gold medalist Tommie Smith and bronze medalist John Carlos raised their fists in the Black Power salute during the American national anthem as a show of protest. To this day, this is seen as the most overtly political statement in Olympic Games history. In other cases, the athletes’ protests are more nuanced, where simply playing the sport is a show of protest. For example, Jackie Robinson was the first black man to play in Major League Baseball. This came during a time when the Jim Crow laws were still in effect, and the U.S. was a deeply segregated nation. By playing in this period, Robinson challenged the segregation by being the only person of colour in the entire league, and refusing to be pushed out after enduring countless racial taunts and physical abuse from fans, referees, and others players.

There have undoubtedly been many other activist athletes, but recently we have an even greater number appearing. However, with the rise of the ‘activist athlete,’ it is important to draw distinctions between the types of activism that they engage in, rather than lumping all athletes who engage in political issues into the same category.

These distinctions are important to make, because taking up philanthropic causes is, in fact, a lucrative business – too often causing some to merely do it for good PR. These athletes use their cause of choice in order to pander to their fans and become then more marketable, which leads to their inking new and well-paying endorsements. It is this type of activist athlete that gives the rest a bad name, but also manages to never be called out – that is, unless they become involved in a scandal.

In 2012, Lance Armstrong – seven-time winner of the Tour de France and cancer survivor – was busted for blood doping, where he artificially increased the number of red blood cells to boost athletic performance. Aside from arguably being the most well-known cyclist in modern history, Armstrong also started his own charity called Livestrong, which is directed at raising money and providing support for cancer survivors.

Armstrong would use Livestrong to shield himself from any accusations of blood doping, building a narrative that essentially said: ‘How dare you question me? Look at what I have done for cancer survivors!’ Seeing that he used survivors’ narratives and struggles for his own personal gain, it is fair to say that Armstrong’s version of athlete activism was self-serving. An example of this is when asked if he was blood doping, he would use his image as the cancer survivor who still continued to win while supporting other survivors to deflect the issue. Cycling great Greg LeMond calls Armstrong a “thug who used his cancer-survival story and cancer charity to manipulate the cancer community and shield himself from allegations.” Even though Armstrong had a stake in this issue, by positing himself as the voice of all cancer survivors, but using that voice to further his own self-interest, he betrayed the cause he claimed to value so dearly. Luckily he is not the only athlete who has had a stake in something and chosen to take a stand.

Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling has a long history of racist comments; however, this summer his comments took centre stage after a recording of his remarks became public. The Clippers were in the middle of playoffs when the news broke, and when they walked on the court ready to play their next opponent, everyone noticed that their warm-up gear was inside-out. This was a protest staged by the players refusing to wear the logo of a team with a racist owner.

This silent protest was inspiring, because it showed that players do have the power to take action to address larger social issues; however, one critique of this event was that the players could have done more. Sometimes as activists, we dream about what it would be like if we just said, ‘Fuck the system!’ and did not show up for work the next day. But then we realize that not going to work is not an option for everyone, and that it requires a certain level of privilege to play hooky, or risk losing your job by not showing up. Athletes have the privilege to get paid large amounts of money to play a game. By refusing to play that game not only would it be the buzz of the sports world by drawing attention to the issue, but, in the case of the Clippers, it would hit Sterling where it hurt: right in the wallet.

Still, this effort by the Clippers is a prime example of athlete activism, and shows how powerful it can be when the athletes have a stake in the issue they choose to support, without exploiting it for their own good.

The most current and most powerful display of athlete activism has come after a trend of some of the grossest miscarriages of justice in recent history. After the grand jury failed to indict Michael Brown and Eric Garner’s killers, people all across North America gathered to say that black lives matter. Many athletes have joined this movement, In the NBA, during their warm-ups, players wear shirts saying “I can’t breathe,” Garner’s last words before he was killed. NFL teams like the Rams have entered the stadium with their hands up, like Brown a gesture that has become synonymous with the movement.

These shows of solidarity are only made stronger when the athlete who choose to take a stand on a certain issue also have a stake in the issue. When his team played the Brooklyn Nets, basketball player Kyrie Irving explained to the pre-game press corps why he was wearing an “I can’t breathe” shirt. “I think it’s really important that we show our respect to the families. More importantly, we’re in the city where tragedy happened, and it’s really important to us that we stand up for a cause, especially this one. It hits close to home and means a lot to me.”

Athletes command a lot of influence and attention in our day-to-day life. There will always be athlete activists. However, it is important that we hold them accountable by distinguishing between those who use activism simply as good press, and those who have a genuine interest in and commitment to moving their chosen cause forward. Until then, activist athletes will come in all different shapes and forms; some will make a difference, but some will opt for the money. Either way, just as we choose to cheer for certain teams, we should choose to cheer for certain activists.

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It has been three Movembers since I was diagnosed with brain cancer.

I was first diagnosed during the summer of 2012 while I was working at a summer camp in Muskoka. Part of my job was getting the site ready for campers. I would spend my days raking up leaves, packing them into burlap sacks, and dumping them in a pile. Within a month on the job, the pile began to resemble a small mountain. I would also chip off the faded paint from cabins and then paint them back the same dark brown. I would do this along with other meticulous maintenance jobs while taking routine breaks, dips in the lake, and other entertainment only found in the woods. On one of the earlier days at the job, I was driving the camp truck to move some paint materials from one end of the camp to the other. The truck was finicky at best, and it was while I was driving down a steep hill that I lost control of the vehicle and slid off the road.

Luckily I was not driving very fast and didn’t incur any major injuries. I did, however, hit my head on the steering wheel when the truck collided with the curb. I had to go to the hospital. After about four hours there I was cleared to go, leaving only with a minor concussion, told that I would be fine within a few days.

Within the next few days I began to feel nauseous and started throwing up – a clear sign another visit to the hospital was needed. This time I had a CT scan. Unbeknownst to me, it would the be the first of many I would have. I headed straight back to campground after the scan was done, and took it easy for a few days. My headaches went away, I didn’t feel nauseous anymore, and I was back at work in beautiful Muskoka. I was ready to get on with my summer.

I woke up to another cold morning in my cabin, to an average day of work. I stumbled out of bed, wiped the sleep out my eyes, and got dressed, pulling my heavy wool socks over my feet. After throwing on my work boots, I climbed into the back of the camp’s rusted, old pickup truck, the same one I crashed a week earlier, to drive myself and the rest of the crew to the shop where we stored our tools overnight. It was a day like any other.

While at the shop, the crew and I started a game of basketball, and it was then that I got a call from my dad. His voice was shaking, and I could tell he was trying to be calm and collected, but right away I knew something was up. He told me the CT scan had found something unexpected, and far more ominous than I ever could have anticipated. The scan showed I had a low-grade glioma in my left frontal lobe – a brain tumour, a cancer that would envelop my life. I stood there and felt nothing. Fuck.

Cancer was not a new concept for me. When I was ten, my father was diagnosed with cancer. A good part of my childhood was shaped by this experience. But what my own scan showed was a different experience altogether. I was a healthy 19-year-old (casual smoker) who had just finished his first year at McGill. This tumour, I was told later by doctors, could have been living in my brain for the past ten years, and I would not have known had I not crashed the camp’s truck. How could this happen to me? It wasn’t fair; I had never heard of anyone my age having cancer, and now all of a sudden it was part of my identity. I had no symptoms. I had no warning. I had no reason at all to question my health in any way.

I stood there, completely emotionally shut down. Numb, I even went back to work the same day – despite protest from my co-workers. Brain cancer, you don’t survive that. Brain cancer – the most important part of my body is infected with a serious disease, with the potential to end my life. I truly thought I had come to the end of the line.

The surgery

There are two approaches to dealing with brain tumours: wait and see, or go in and operate. Since I did not have any symptoms, one of the surgeons that my family and I consulted supported the wait-and-see method. Despite this, and after much deliberation with my family, I decided to have surgery. It came down to me simply wanting the tumour out of my head.

I had surgery in the the winter of 2012; it was an eight-hour awake craniotomy. Before the surgery, I underwent an elaborate series of cognition tests, mostly involving recognition, where I was shown an image and had to identify it. The doctors kept me awake during the surgery so I could answer the same questions as before. They did this in order to map my brain function during the surgery, and ensure they were not removing healthy tissue.

Being awake also meant that when my skull was cut through with a electric bone saw, I felt completely present. I still remember the sound. It was like nails on a chalkboard, and I felt the vibration shake my head back and forth, despite it being secured by a head brace. I remember having a seizure midway through the operation. I remember the nurses squeezing my hands to let me know I was going to be ok, and the pain of having 57 staples in my head. I remember all of this, and I hope to never forget it because it was the hardest experience of my life and I survived – though I was never alone.

When I got back to McGill I told my friends that I had a brain tumour and needed surgery to remove it. The reaction I got was better than I ever could have expected. They were always there for me, and even organized a benefit concert to help cover the cost of my surgery. Without their help, I don’t know what I would have done, or how I would have coped. We laughed together, sometimes cried together, and got through it together. I had amazing people by my side and I am so lucky to have had them there. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have this kind of support, and it certainly made all the difference in my experience with cancer.

De-corporatizing cancer support

This is the month of Movember, a campaign that aims to support and raise awareness about prostate cancer. I do not suffer from prostate cancer, but I do have experience with cancer, and have been subject to different support initiatives as a result. By no means do I want to say meant to speak on behalf of all, or any, cancer survivors except for myself, but I want to state that I don’t need or want the type of awareness that Movember and similar campaigns facilitate.

Movember is a time when well-intentioned people grow facial hair and collect money for cancer research so they can feel like they are supporting people with cancer. I feel campaigns like this, which are riddled with gimmicks and slacktivism, distract – if not completely distance – us from those who are really at stake, as well as the substantial methods of support outside these highly corporatized self-benefitting campaigns.

Corporations are quick to jump on as sponsors of campaigns that claim to aid people with cancer because it is good advertising and PR, but this then again misses the mark in committing to supporting cancer survivors in a meaningful way. The idea of Movember is good in theory, but falls short of affecting real change in its complicity in the corporate cancer machine that capitalizes on people’s suffering. It is just another self-serving device in a pool of capitalized cancer initiatives.

When I first found out that I was diagnosed with brain cancer, I went to a hospital in Toronto. Since I am from Ontario, I was covered by the Ontario Health Insurance Plan (OHIP). I quickly became familiar with the financial constraints of Canadian healthcare, and the real limits that cancer survivors may face. I went to my local hospital to meet with the brain surgeon and discuss the approach that would be taken with my surgery. According to the surgeon, I would spend six hours under observation in the hospital and be sent home afterward. Six hours for an awake craniotomy – an incredibly challenging and complicated surgery – did not seem sufficient to ensuring proper care of a patient. But in the Ontario healthcare system, this apparently makes a lot of financial sense.

Cancer is an incredibly expensive disease to have. Hearing about the six-hour observation prompted me to follow up with research on why this would be the case. What I learned was that because Canada’s healthcare system is publicly funded and not-for-profit, doctors claim to need new and unique ways of conducting surgeries. These ‘new and unique’ ways resulted in more limited patient care, such as day surgery.

The idea of cancer patients spending only six hours in hospital and later going home offers the healthcare system a saving of approximately $1,140. This shows how desperate the Canadian healthcare system is to save money. If outcare is being cut back on, which one would imagine would be a priority in a healthcare system, it begs the question of what cuts are being made on the research side.

With this in mind, taking the example of Movember again, which claims to have raised $147 million last year, I do not doubt that it has made a difference, but in the grand scheme of things, it is just a drop in the bucket, and is not going toward ameliorating the above issues.

The effort to raise awareness about cancer is appreciated, but I do feel that the method is misguided, and even misplaced. Raising money through quick-fix slacktivism is just a band-aid solution. Cancer is a very expensive disease. My surgery alone cost around $100,000. A better use of resources would be if the participants of Movember lobbied and protested the government to make healthcare more accessible. The more accessible healthcare is, the more benefits and care cancer survivors will receive. If you want to help survivors, fight for this, not essentializing moustaches.

The October a year after my surgery, I was back at school and was starting to feel like myself again. I was just ready to get my life back on track. However, it was that fall that I was flooded by a sea of pink. Everywhere I looked in October there was pink. It was on so many products targeted toward women – yogurt, wine, butter, everything. It has been reported that certain companies’ donations to the cause are meagre at best. For example, Campbell’s donated about 3.5 cents for every can of soup it sold. Similarly, if you were to raise a mere $36 to fight breast cancer with the Yoplait cancer campaign, you would have to eat three cups of yogurt each day for four months.

So how much does this actually help? Do I feel supported when I walk in to a supermarket and see chocolate bars with a cancer ribbon? Not really. It is this lack of sensitivity that is alarming and realized through the whole month of October. It surprises me that nobody ever thought that maybe filling a grocery store full of merchandise that claims to support cancer is very triggering for people who have survived it. While it might make you feel better because you are supporting the cause, you’re not the one that has to deal with the disease. One cancer survivor told the Boston Globe that October is a difficult month for her because she is constantly reminded of her disease. She said, “I want to buy my English muffins and not be reminded of it while I’m waiting for results to come in.”

The difference between this and year-round events are that they focus on helping the survivors and those affected. These groups also usually offer free counselling and education sessions. These are the sort of groups that need support, not just companies that slap a pink logo to commodify a struggle so they can profit.

Meaningful support

Movember raises awareness about prostate cancer, but does so in a limited way. By growing a moustache and raising money, participants are privy to the gratifying sense that they are helping, that they are making a difference, that they are supporting survivors. Somewhere along the way, participants might feel a sense of inflated significance of their support’s value – even to the extent of a sense of entitlement over change. I’d like to call for a more substantial and direct approach to support than growing a moustache, or dropping money in a jar on your way out of a depanneur.
Real, substantial support is not about arm-length, momentary actions such as this.

You never forget that you have cancer. Sometimes you just want to try not to think about it. When I got back to Montreal, I started to notice that whenever I would go out with my friends, there would always be that one person in the room who I had maybe talked to once in my life, but who had heard about my surgery through friends of friends of friends. They would rush up and ask me how I was and if I was okay. They’d say things like, “Hey man, if you ever need help give me a call.” Though clearly well-intentioned, I often felt situations like these made me feel the need to compromise my comfort level so that others could feel like they had done a good deed for the day.

I was left wondering what their stake in caring was beyond this. Living with cancer is a very real thing that I have to deal with everyday. I don’t feel I need reminders, and I certainly do not need sympathy. Thanking people who essentially amount to strangers puts me in a position where I have to validate their feel-good deed. It really does very little to help me beyond reminding me that yes, I do have cancer.

Personal support

Campaigns to raise awareness or raise funds for cures often obscure the most influential support that is needed for people with cancer. It centres and congratulates the supporter, rather than the person in need. What might be more effective is moving away from centring the supporter, and refocusing on the survivor: allyship.
Allyship removes the onus on the survivor to explain themselves, to validate your concern, and other extensions people make in an attempt to help. It means asking how they would like to be supported, and not telling their stories, or claiming knowledge over their experience.

Before I had surgery I was dealing with a lot. The average student juggles much more than academics alone, and having added medical appointments and stresses definitely did not make things easier. My friends were good allies because they addressed my needs the way I needed them to. They didn’t give me patronizing sympathy, nor did they try to be overly sacrificial. They treated me like the same old Drew. If I wanted to talk about what I was going through, they made themselves available to listen. This was exactly how I wanted to be supported and it made all the difference for me.

Unlike quick-fix coin boxes, pink merchandise, and unattractive facial hair, being an ally is an ongoing commitment. The best way to support cancer survivors is to treat them with the dignity of this commitment, rather than the former. Financial help does make a big difference, and fundraising is a significant aid, but once a year is not enough, and monthly donations are far more effective, as is calling for healthcare reform. Cancer survivors aren’t the neatly wrapped corporate fun-and-games that you can just buy. They’re people and they should be the motivation for the cause.

I truly believe that people that are taking part in Movember, pink ribbon campaigns, Livestrong, and all the others have their hearts in the right place. But this type of support needs to be challenged. More direct care can make a much more meaningful difference to cancer survivors. Growing a moustache does not help me fight cancer, nor does buying Becel. I’m not sure how people think it does. If you want to do something with your hair to be in solidarity with cancer survivors, shave it off, something many people working in cancer wards do to support their patients. Monthly donations to hospital funds are much more directly beneficial.

It’s been a long journey, I’m not jaded, or mad, or looking to give people a hard time. I just want to live my life, a life that will always be filled with routine cancer screenings, clinical trials, and the various other medical exams that come with having cancer. This is my reality. If you want to help me and others with similar realities, do more than just supporting these slacktivist campaigns, because frankly, they don’t cut it.

If you would like to get in contact with the writer, you can email him at drewwolfsonbell@gmail.com

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The IeSF stated that “the decision to divide male and female competitions was made in accordance with international sports authorities as part of our effort to promote e-sports as a legitimate sport.” This statement was met with reactions from confusion to accusations of sexism. A day later an emergency session was called and the IeSF retracted its policy, allowing women to compete alongside men in tournaments for multiple video games including Dota 2, Starcraft II, Hearthstone, and Ultra Street Fighter.

It wasn’t until pressure was put on the IeSF that it abandoned its sexist policy. This misstep speaks more to the video game industry’s desire to mimic other sports. But for the fighting game community, unwelcoming and misogynistic scandals are abundant.

A toxic relationship with women is a recuring theme in the world of video games. The community’s sexism manifests in many ways, from the parade of game trailers featuring prominently white men, pandering to macho fantasies at the Electronic Entertainment Expo, to the constant humiliation of female developers, to the threatening of female academics involved in the field, seemingly just because they are women.

Rightfully or not, video game culture is imagined as an escape from an alienating world. Gamer culture, as gaming journalist Bob Chipman argues, defines itself as “willingly separate from a larger and more powerful and infrequently threatening mainstream culture.”

The context of gamers breaking away from the mainstream should not absolve gamers of accountability, or excuse them of violence – yet this attitude is given power in the community, feeding into the exclusionary and violent atmosphere.

Two years ago, Capcom’s Cross Assault, a competitive gaming show centred around the release of Street Fighter 4, was marred by controversy when a leaked video showed competitive gamer and gaming coach Aris Bakhtanians sexually harassing his own teammate, Miranda “Super_Yan” Pakozdi. Bakhtanians filmed Pakozdi, his lens focusing below her neck and hips, asking her, repeatedly, to “stand up.”

“I have to have fun,” Bakhtanians quipped, continuing, until she left the room. The objectification of a female athlete’s body during competition is something that has happened countless times in the sports community, but what makes this case especially troubling is the blatant enjoyment the perpetrator derived without ever pausing to consider how harmful his actions were.

People were not happy. Jared Rea from twitch.tv interviewed Bakhtanians, asking him such questions about whether it was unacceptable practice to use words such as “rape” when describing the defeat of an opponent, especially if that opponent was a woman. Bakhtanians responded by denouncing the criticism as an infringement on his freedom of speech, comparing the suggestion to self censor to living in North Korea. After Rea asked: “Can I get my Street Fighter without sexual harassment?”, Bakhtanians responded by saying: “You can’t. You can’t because they’re one and the same thing. This is a community that’s, you know, 15 and 20 years old, and the sexual harassment is part of a culture, and if you remove that from the fighting game community, it’s not the fighting game community – it’s Starcraft.”

What puts into question the legitimacy of e-sports is not only segregated games, an issue which sports culture as a whole has grappled with, but more significantly these kinds of attitudes that openly accept and perpetuate rape culture as an immutable part of their community. The IeSF is trying to expand the market for e-sports, but when figures like Bakhtanians are ubiquitous, it is clear that it is an exclusionary league.

To address the outrage, Bakhtanians took to where all sincere and heartfelt apologies are given, Twitter: “When I made these statements,” he wrote, “I was very heated as I felt that the culture of a scene I have been part of for over 15 years was being threatened.”

Bakhtanians also reminisced on Twitter about the golden age of coin-fed arcade machines. “People didn’t like newcomers […] I think the sink-or-swim mentality is something that defined our culture.” Yet this culture also defines itself by being exclusive and violent; any glorification of the culture also glorifies this aspect of it.

However, the Bakhtanians case is not an isolated incident, as any gamer who has ever played a few rounds of matchmaking on Ghosts, or traded in EVE Online, can tell. Bakhtanians is also not some obscure troll; he has a huge presence and fanbase. Without this fanbase, Bakhtanians would not have a platform to spew his sexist rhetoric. The fact that he still has this platform speaks to the sexist culture of video games. And this is no accident, but a deliberate move: Microsoft even recently capitalized on his popularity by having him as a main presenter at its 2014 Gamescom keynote.

Despite constant harassment from Bakhtanians and other members of the community, people are taking a stand. Jackie Lee, semi-finalist in the Magic: The Gathering Grand Prix Baltimore, endured anonymous insults from livestream viewers of her games simply for being a woman. Despite this, Lee ranks in the top 100 Magic players in the world. Lee explained that she had endured this sort of harassment before, that the comments did not personally bother her, and that she is in gaming “for the long haul.” She refuses to let the sexist nature of gaming culture win, but instead directly challenges it by doing what the sexist gamers hate the most: beating them at their own game, literally.

Hope lies not only in players like Jackie Lee, but in the conversations within the community and gaming enthusiast press. From Chipman’s web series episode With “Great Power,” to the increased visibility of inclusive gaming blog The Mary Sue, to Ross Lincoln’s Escapist Magazine article “Geeks Should Argue Politics,” opening up a discussion around these issues is the first step to creating a more inclusive gaming community.

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“There’s many applications: fire surveillance, harvest surveillance […] Police forces are using UAVs to help them with search and rescue operations.”

Inna Sharf, McGill professor of mechanical engineering, and researcher at the Aerospace Mechatronics Laboratory

UAVs, or Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, are colloquially known as drones, and have attracted attention in recent years for their role in wars waged on foreign turf, and for allowing those wars to be waged in a detached, methodical fashion. In the above quotation, Sharf defended her lab’s research, which has the goal of making landings and take-offs for UAVs more autonomous, by pointing to its potential use in civilian matters. Sharf’s lab receives funding from the Canadian military; this came to light this year through the release of documents obtained through the Access to Information Act.

Resistance to military-funded research has developed on campus in recent years. Demilitarize McGill, a campus group founded in 2009, seeks to end military research at McGill and raises awareness through walking tours of campus, workshops, and articles published in student press. Its members also engage in direct action. On March 14, in response to revelations that defence contracts fund Sharf’s lab’s UAV work, Demilitarize McGill blockaded the Aerospace Mechatronics Laboratory for close to four hours. Seen as an obstruction of university work, the demonstration was dispersed by invoking McGill’s protest protocol and the arrival of police on campus.

McGill has responded that research at the university is “[conduct[ed] with integrity and adhere[s] to the highest ethical standards.” While researchers point to potential applications outside of warfare, Kevin Paul, member of Demilitarize McGill, asserted that military-funded research at McGill is dependent on the possibility of warfare, “McGill benefits when war is being waged by virtue of the wide array of military research opportunities and labs that arguably would not exist without military funding.”

Demilitarize McGill continues its ongoing campaign to disrupt, and eventually end, drone research on campus. In the meantime, McGill has released a series of heavily redacted documents in response to Demilitarize McGill’s access to information requests regarding military research at the university.

—Drew Wolfson Bell and Anqi Zhang

“Among the opponents to the Charter, a number of people fall within a fundamentalist movement. […] They become the first victims of the large-scale manipulation orchestrated by Islamists under the pretext of an attack on individual freedoms.”

Martine Desjardins, former student leader and current Parti Québécois candidate, criticizing opposition to Bill 60, the ‘Quebec Charter of Values.’ (translated from French)

On September 10, 2013, Parti Québécois (PQ) Minister Bernard Drainville officially proposed a ‘Quebec Charter of Values.’ The Charter includes five proposals seeking to regulate interactions between state officials and the public, but only one proposal has garnered significant attention. This proposal would “limit the wearing of conspicuous religious symbols” for state employees. In practice, this means that state employees would be prevented from freely expressing their religion if the Charter passes, potentially at the expense of their jobs. Banned religious symbols would include hijabs, burqas, turbans, kippas, and ‘large’ Orthodox crosses.

Debate erupted after the Charter was proposed, leading to numerous anti- and pro-Charter rallies. Those opposing the Charter have claimed that it unfairly targets religious minorities, and as such, is racism barely disguised under a label of secularism. This claim has been reinforced by a reported increase in hate crimes against religious minorities, such as Muslim women, as part of the public fallout since the Charter was first proposed. A Léger survey released in January 2014 found that 60 per cent of Quebecers polled support this component of the Charter.

In early March, the PQ called an election for April 7, with the intention of emerging from the election as a majority government. If this occurs, the PQ will likely push the Charter into law. Other major parties have failed to explicitly condemn the Charter in its entirety, and have instead endorsed altered versions that still prevent certain religious minorities from freely practicing religion. As such, the fate of religious minorities’ place in the public workforce in Quebec remains unclear, regardless of the outcome of the upcoming election.

—Davide Mastracci

“That’s what food justice is: working with those most affected by an unjust food system, rather than creating spaces outside of it only accessible to the privileged.”

Aaron Vansintjan, “The potential of food banks”

This year, the column “A Bite of Food Justice” by Aaron Vansintjan turned a critical eye to contemporary narratives of food politics and sustainability. In tackling topics like land grabbing, gentrification, and dispossession, Vansintjan created a narrative that included broader themes of food security in the face of ongoing colonialism and capitalism. Alternating between a historical context and current events, and between a specific Montreal focus and case studies elsewhere, from rural Ontario to urban Hanoi, Vansintjan investigated and reported on a broad range of social politics in his seven columns.

—E.k. Chan

“Every story we tell of our dead is also a story of those of us who still live: a cautionary tale, a political fable, a remembrance of what happened, and what is still happening.”

Kai Cheng Thom, “For moonlight siblings on the Transgender Day of Remembrance”

In Kai Cheng Thom’s second year of writing as a columnist, they took a different stylistic turn by penning a series of open letters, in From Gaysia with Love. Addressing their letters to personal role models like Janet Mock and CeCe Macdonald, as well explicitly addressing broader audiences at times, Thom wrote with poetic flare on a broad range of subject matter in their nine columns. Covering intersections of transness, sexuality, race, class, and other factors, the intimate nature of epistolary writing drew personal connections and contrasts between Thom and their addressees, which in turn related to broader, societal issues, such as rape culture, transmisogyny, homophobia, and racism. Writing about their own experiences cast a tangible light on normally abstracted concepts, grounding these discussions in a daily, lived reality.

—E.k. Chan

“All of those expectations for me to be masculine, to act a certain way and to live up to an ideal, were thrown out the window.”

Eric White, on dressing in drag for the first time, in “Sore feet and smokey eyes”

White Noise, a column by Eric White, broached topics of queerness in Montreal, using personal experience as a jumping-off point. In his writing on heteronormativity, polyamory, drag, and the contemporary notions of what it means to be ‘queer,’ White broached critical discussions that remained accessible to the student body. In his columns, White refrained from invoking highly academic terms and instead focused on a relatable narrative, through which urban queerness could be explored and critiqued.

—E.k. Chan

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UdeM was responsible for breaking the Martlets’ regular season win streak at 43, but they were also responsible for eliminating McGill from national championship contention in 2012-13. After their most recent loss, a new narrative emerged: doubt was cast on the Marlets’ ability to defeat UdeM.

This narrative, however, is completely false. Out of the nine times the two teams met this season, the Marlets walked away with five victories. Of the four they lost, Martlets head coach Peter Smith states that he thought his team outplayed the Carabins in all but two contests. People tend to put a lot of weight on playoff losses. They feel that everything that happened in the regular season is negated, and that the post-season is the true test of a team’s skill. Losing in the finals played into this theory of thought. Despite losing in the RSEQ finals, McGill was still granted a berth in the CIS national tournament. After working their way through the tournament McGill found itself in the finals against a familiar foe.

“It’s what this group and this program is all about, moving forward.”
Peter Smith
Head Coach of the Martlets

Confidence is a crucial element whenever entering a game where a championship is on the line. The Martlets faced the prospect of playing in the finals against a team that had just beaten them in the conference finals. This would cause most teams’ nerves to surface.
The Martlets did not see it as such. Heading into double overtime, Smith told his players to stick with the game plan, and that it would only be a matter of time before they broke through with a goal.

This CIS championship puts an exclamation point on an already fantastic season. The Martlets went 18-2-0 in the RSEQ conference. This stellar record can be largely attributed to McGill’s offensive power and excellent goaltending. The Martlets averaged an impressive 3.7 goals per game and 34.6 shots per game. Forwards Katia Clement-Heydra and Gabrielle Davidson ended their season ranking one and two in the RSEQ scoring race. Both players also cracked the top five in the CIS point leaders rankings. Among the RSEQ goaltending leaders, McGill’s Andrea Weckman was also ranked first overall, boasting a .922 save percentage. The one disappointment in McGill’s season was the inability to secure a conference championship. Smith stated that, “Clearly we would have liked to win our conference, but we had bigger things in mind [as well] and moved forward […] It’s what this group and this program is all about, moving forward.” The Martlets have faced challenges, but they were able to battle though this adversity. This national title is proof that they were one of the most dominant teams in Canadian women’s hockey this year.

The main problem with the Martlets season is that it has come to an end. The unfortunate nature of university sports means that the most seasoned players are often lost to graduation. Next season, the Martlets are losing Weckman, captain Darragh Hamilton, defenseman Michelle Daigneault, and forward Chelsey Saunders. Moving into next season, the loss of these players may seem like a major blow to the team. Weckman has been outstanding between the pipes, a stabilizing presence for the team. Yet as Smith points out, “I never looked at it as having one goalie and two backups; we have three goalies all capable of playing.” Alternate goaltenders Brittany Smrke and Taylor Hough have also posted impressive numbers this season and should be able to step up and fill the void left by Weckman.

Martlets captian Darragh Hamilton proved herself as a tough, hard- working leader,with confidence that inspired her team. Though the Martlets are losing their captain, by no means are they losing their leadership. McGill will still have three out of four assistant captains returning. This is also helped by the fact that the Martlets look to every player for leadership, even if they don’t have an A or a C on their jersey.

Despite these losses, McGill still looks to be one of the dominant teams in the RSEQ division next year. They are retaining a large portion of their team and this foundation is invaluable going into next season. Within this group, the Martlets also hold on to Gabrielle Davidson, Leslie Oles, and recently-named CIS player of the year Clement- Heydra. This trio has combined for 101 goals and 103 assists this season. On defense the Martlets will keep most of their roster with the exception of Daigneault, meaning that they will still have depth on the blue line. A combination of returning veterans like Kelsie Moffatt and Adrienne Crampton, paired with rookie Emily Davis, should keep McGill anchored on defense. As for goaltending, McGill will now look to Hough and Smrke; luckily, Hough has experience playing in this conference. She has played seven games this year and captured the fourth spot on the RSEQ goaltender leader board. The Martlets are, and will remain, a strong team. They are driven, talented, and committed. The Martlets look to repeat this success next season, and with their current line-up, they have the tools to do it.

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There have been many examples of skaters going against society’s perceived views of them. One example that stands apart from the crowd is Skateistan, a non-governmental organization (NGO) founded in 2007. It began when two Australians travelling with three other skateboarders ended up in Kabul, Afghanistan. While they were there, the local youth became fascinated with the visitors’ skateboarding, and what started as informal lessons soon grew into an NGO with over 230 volunteers and 13 countries assisting. In 2009, Skateistan, with the help of international funding, opened its first skatepark in Kabul. This park gave 350 youths a safe indoor place to skate, and just like that, a small, unexpected skate scene was born.

Even though education for girls in Afghanistan has modestly improved in the last decade, it is still far from equitable, with only 37 per cent of all enrolled students being female. Fierce resistance by the Taliban also counters this progress. Some incidents have included burning down all-girl schools, killing teachers, and throwing acid on girls who are travelling to school. It is in this environment that Skateistian has emerged as an NGO that fosters small changes within communities.

40 per cent of Skateistan’s members are girls. The skateparks also represent some of the only recreational facilities open to girls in all of Afghanistan. Skateboarding is used to give these girls something to engage in, and from there they can become more empowered. One of Skateistan’s members, 14-year- old Madina Saidy, was selected to speak in front of Afghanistan’s parliament. Madina used to sell a variety of goods on the street to support her family. But through the initiatives put in place by Skateistian, she has emerged as a youth leader. Another example of Skateistan empowering the youth is its role at the national Children’s Shura. This event is a place where youths meet and talk about the issues they face and the best way to combat them. Over 150 children show up representing nine provinces as well as Internally Displaced Persons camps and street working youth. 20 of these 150 participants were also active in the Skateistian program.

The idea is that once these kids get hooked on skating, much more is possible. That is why this NGO uses the momentum built by skateboarding and shifts it into education. One program is called the Back to School Program (BTS), a 12-month program split into three semesters. One grade level is covered each semester. Once the program is completed, participants can re-enroll in government schools. Of the 103 students to complete the program since its inception, half are girls. Of the 38 students in the 2012-13 graduating class, none had attended school before.

Skateistan also offers an art-based educational program. This is centred on giving students a voice to express the issues and concerns that matter to them. All the programs Skateistan offer explicitly promote gender equality within Afghanistan. Even though discrimination is still apparent, Skateistan is taking the first steps to change it, and though girls still are not allowed to ride bikes, there is no restriction against skateboarding, offering young girls previously unavailable childhood experiences.

Though girls still are not allowed to ride bikes, there is no restriction against skateboarding

Skateistan’s efforts with women in Afghanistan have been commendable. But what they have done for the country in the last six years cannot be overlooked. People under the age of 26 make up 70 per cent of Afghanistan’s population. Skateistan is so successful because they use skateboarding as a tool of empowerment. This program brings all of the youth population together, regardless of gender, socioeconomic standing, or ethnicity. By having these connections within the youth groups of Afghanistan, Skateistan is promoting change. Skateistan states that skateboarding provides a space where both tolerance and a trusting civil society can be built. Skateistan works to build trust and understanding between youths that would not usually interact. They use the progress made and continue to build on it both in classrooms and during group activities. Skateboarding is just the starting point. The goal of the program is to empower the youth and build a sense of community to promote the changes they want within their own country.

Recently Skateistan has expanded into Cambodia, bringing their program of youth empowerment through skating and continued education. Though this, they hope to bring the same change that they have achieved in Afghanistan to a country that has been equally touched by conflict.

Although there are still a lot problems in the area, and these programs are just small steps in the right direction, it’s nice to know that these efforts still exist, even if they were born from a counter culture where the opposite is expected.

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The Martlets have had a hard time against the Carabins. Last year they failed to make Nationals after losing to them in the first round of the RSEQ playoffs. This trend will have to change if they hope to clinch a RSEQ  championship and make it to a national championship, as UdeM usually has a strong showing at the tournament. The Martlets began their journey with a chip on their shoulder and a considerable amount of pressure, and it began to show in the first game against Concordia.  Concordia is a hard team to play. They are fast, big, and extremely physical. In the first game of the series, the physical play of the Stingers worked. They were able to achieve a rarity and get under the Martlets’ skin with their physical play; leading the Martlets to take several undisciplined penalties. This gave the Stingers the room they needed to take the lead and hold it for most of the game. But this lead was not enough.

The Martlets were trailing 2-1 entering the third period. Things were not looking good; Concordia had found a rhythm. While the Martlets were stumbling, their power play had been held silent and the physical play of the Stingers was starting to take its toll. McGill went down two skaters on a five on three power play, and things looked like they were about to go from bad to worse. Then Katia Clement-Heydra broke out of her defensive zone, drove down the boards, cut to centre, crashed the net, and scored the tying goal shorthanded. This impressive clutch play proved yet again that she is one of the most decisive forwards in the league. Later in the third, she assisted the game winner, setting up Jordan McDonell for a textbook back-door play. McGill was able to survive their first test against Concordia. Not only did they achieve a 1-0 lead in the series, but it was a sharp stop to what could become a losing skid. The win also gave them much needed confidence going into their next game.

The second game was at Concordia. The Stingers had their backs to the wall, and being a physical team, things got pretty chippy pretty fast. After one period, the score was tied at 1-1. This scoreline echoed a recent problem for the Martlets: putting pucks in the net. It’s not that the shots weren’t coming but that they just weren’t going in. Everything changed in the second period. McGill unleashed a relentless offence that yielded six unanswered goals to lift the score to 7-1. In the third, they added another three goals for safe measure. By the final whistle, McGill not only walked away with a win, but with the confidence they will need to compete in the RSEQ championship. Their scoring drought was over. Not only did they score more goals during this game than their last 3 contests, but there was depth in scoring, as nine different players contributed for ten goals with Gabrielle Davidson contributing two of her own. Head coach Peter Smith expressed his happiness with his team’s performance and said, “We’re looking forward to the finals, it’s exactly where we wanted to be and coming off a good complete game like that just gives us more confidence and motivation.”

Looking ahead, the Martlets have their work cut out for them. UdeM is a tough opponent and have recently handed the Martlets some tough losses. But the Martlets are ready to end that narrative. Even though McGill is ranked number one in the CIS polls, when they play the Carabins they are the underdogs.

When playing UdeM, the Martlets share characteristics with the 2012-13 Chicago Blackhawks. Even though Chicago had significant amounts of talent and skill, when they faced Detroit in the western conference semi-finals they were viewed as underdogs.  Detroit was a team that had given Chicago trouble in the regular season and in past playoff series. Both of these factors resulted in some post season predictions siding with Detroit. Chicago did not only go on to win the series, but ended up winning the Stanley Cup. The Martlets are facing their Detroit.

Martlets games up to this point have been sparsely attended by the student body, due in some part to misguided perceptions about women’s sports and student apathy towards athletics. During the playoffs, fans should all make an effort to support this team as they strive for a championship, and pack the stands. You don’t have to like hockey or fear falling into the trap of school pride jingoism. All I’m saying is: not only are these players incredible athletes but they‘re also a part of our McGill community who do not get enough attention. We should show support the same way we would want to receive support when we strive for our dreams and reach out for our aspirations. It’s great hockey for a great price. Think about it.

The Martlets won their first game against the Carabins 4-3 and hold a 1-0 lead in the series. The next game in the series is Thursday at UdeM.

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With that said, McGill’s is not an overly physical team. But, when push came to shove, they shoved back. The Martlets rely on playing a system that utilizes their speed and precision as effectively as possible. They blend acute hockey intelligence, speed, tenacious offence, disciplined defence, and solid goaltending to form a winning squad. Watching the Martlets play is like watching surgery; every play is deliberate and precise and, if a play doesn’t work, they simply re-group and try again. In addition to this team’s overall talent, there are still names that warrant special mention. At the end of Sunday’s game the three stars announced were Katia Clement-Hydra, Leslie Oles, and Gabrielle Davidson. This is not the first time this trifecta has received such adulation. This season, they have tallied a total of 44 goals and 45 assists over 16 games. Smith noted that these three players “have stepped up hugely, not only through their contributions in points, but also [with] the leadership they provide and their work ethic.” This trio is reminiscent of the Triple Crown line of the 1975-88 Los Angeles Kings, the first line in National Hockey League (NHL) history to combine for over 100 points in a single season. This line has great potential; although they don’t play together regularly during five on five play, on the power play they are a formidable force and a major contribution to the Martlets’ offensive punch. The Martlets also have the benefit of great goaltending. Andrea Weckman started on Sunday with a save percentage of .935 and three shutouts in nine games. She is ranked first in the RSEQ conference, right ahead of her teammate Taylor Hough who is ranked second and has a save percentage of .897 in six games against tough opponents.

With a team built around a large group of returning veterans, it can be hard coming in as a rookie, especially on a team as good as McGill’s. But the Martlets also have several new rookies this year who are making their mark, one of whom is seeing significant ice time. On defence, Emily Davis, whose play resembles the Pittsburg Penguins’ Olli Määttä, has played 15 games this season. In that time, Davis has tallied 3 points along with only 12 penalty minutes. Although her total number of points is not especially high, her presence is felt on the ice. In a few years, Davis could emerge as a keystone of the Martlets defence. For now, she is paying her dues and working her way up the ladder. As Smith said: “It’s a big jump both athletically and academically for these players to make, but they are working hard and doing good. [They] still have some learning to do, but I am very happy with their performance.”

With a squad of such skill and depth, it is really no surprise that the Martlets remain unbeaten this season. The Martlets started off the season strong and, with the playoffs coming up, hope to continue their success. It is fair to say that they have a lot of pressure on them and expectations are at an all-time high. McGill has had success in the past at the Canadian Interuniversity Sports (CIS) Cup, winning back-to-back titles in 2007-08 and 2008-09. The Martlets’ most recent CIS Cup championship came back in the 2010-11 season. Unfortunately luck has not been on their side since then.

In 2011-12 McGill was listed as the top-seeded team at the CIS Cup but was eliminated in the first round by an underdog Calgary team. Calgary went on to win the entire tournament. The year after, the Martlets found themselves in unfamiliar territory. They failed to qualify for Nationals for the first time since 2004-05, losing to Université de Montreal. You would think the team’s regular season success and recent post-season blues would start to play mind games as the playoffs approach, but that’s not the case. As Smith says, “I have a short term memory. We all just focus on the game at hand.”

The Martlets still have some regular season games left to play and, given how the team is playing, it is not unrealistic to believe that they could finish with an undefeated season. They are also talented, hard-working, and tough. After two early exits from the playoffs, you can bet they’re going in with a chip on their shoulder. They want to prove they are the best team in women’s hockey by bringing that cup home to McConnell Arena.

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The McGill Daily: What did you think of the Freeskier article “10 Hottest Female Skiers?” Does it seem like women skiers only get coverage by marketing their sexuality?

Jen Hudak: Yeah, there is an unfair double standard. Just being a good athlete isn’t enough anymore. In order to be successful as a female athlete, you have to be strong and beautiful. You definitely see the objectification of women in the action sports industry throughout marketing and advertising. The Freeskier article really highlights that.

MD: Well, there’s no lack of talented female skiers. For example, I think Maude Raymond is one of the most talented skiers in the sport.

JH: Maude is a tough one for me, because she uses her looks to get more attention. For myself, I dealt with a lot of body image issues when I was younger and I think now: “how can I be an overall role model for my former 15-year old self?” What would I want to see? I would want to see a woman who uses her body to do amazing athletic things and to send the message that your body is not just there to be looked at and admired by men. I wish the media did a better job covering what we do on snow.

MD: On the Dew Tour, they only show women’s highlight runs. Do you think lack of coverage is biased and will affect the next generation of female skiers?

JH: Yeah, media coverage is completely out of balance. It’s the same across all women’s sports; 95 per cent of the airtime coverage is men’s sports and 5 percent is women’s. There are a lot of women doing amazing things but with the Dew Tour, they just do a highlight reel and only the men get live airtime. The year I won [the] X-Games in 2010 was the first and only year where they did a live broadcast. Women have been in X-Games for 10 showings and we’ve only been on TV once. Now, if we’re lucky, we might make the highlight reel. If there’s no way to show people what you’re doing, there’s no way to inspire and grow the sport. It’s very limiting.

MD: For women, it seems like you have to compete [in events] rather than film [ski films], even though there’s been some amazing film segments – for example, Kaya Turski. Women in ski films seem few and far between.

JH: Well, Kaya is a total bad-ass. For park and pipe, to make a career as a female skier, you need to be competing or you’re not getting paid very much from sponsors. So you need to win prize money and pay your way to your next event. It’s a big commitment to be competing and try to film at the same time. Kaya did it for one season but has taken a step back now to focus on competition, which is understandable because of the [upcoming Sochi] Olympics. In the big mountain world it’s possible, but in park and pipe we have competitions that we have to show up at. That’s what sponsors care about and that’s how you get to pay your bills.

MD: I can think of a handful of male skiers who have made a living from the sport. I can only think of one, maybe two females. Is there a wage difference?

JH: Guys make ten times the amount I make, but they probably should because they reach ten times the number of people and sell ten times the amount of product. I don’t have too much of an issue there. I do have an issue with how much it drops off. As a female skier, there are maybe five of us who make a good living and then it drops off to the point where girls have to fundraise and work to find a way to continue skiing. It’s like a mirror image of our society and the balance of rich and poor. The top 2 per cent make 90 per cent of the money but we’re all in it because we love it.

MD: In 2010, you won back-to-back at X-Games Aspen and X-Games Europe. Is it sometimes disheartening, after reaching the pinnacle of our sport, to hear: “that was really good – for a girl?”

JH: You know that year when I was skiing, I had so much positive feedback from everybody – male and female. The next year, I had a small web series following me and people would say, “I had to press mute, but the skiing was great.” I had to laugh at that but appreciated that people were stoked on my skiing. That’s the whole point – to find something you’re passionate about and to follow it through to the end.

MD: Do you think this Olympics, with its focus on human rights, might launch the conversation in freeskiing about gender equality?

JH: I don’t know if the two are necessarily related. I wish the Olympics weren’t in Russia. Russia is a pretty corrupt place and their policies on homosexuality are despicable. But the Olympics are a business. People ask me if I still support the Olympics with what is going on – I do. The Olympics is something a lot of us have been dreaming about for our entire lives. We have sacrificed so much for that goal.

MD: Ski print media seems to be short on content and long on advertising. Your thoughts?

JH: We have a lot more growth ahead of us and I think Freeskier as a magazine is going through changes right now. In this sport, because of how much risk is involved, you’re not doing it for the money. You’re doing it because you love it. You’re doing it to see how good you can get, how far you can push yourself and I think that spirit will forever remain in freeskiing. Ultimately, the athletes are going to dictate the direction of this sport.

MD: After you responded to the Freeskier article through your blog, how did other athletes respond, both male and female?

JH: The responses have been all over the board. I’ve had some guys ask me why I’m making a big deal about this. Why aren’t you grateful doing a sport for a living? This isn’t about being grateful. Then other male athletes are like, “This is garbage, Freeskier. Are you trying to make it seem like a joke by doing ‘10 Hottest Men?’” It was cool that a lot of people appreciated what I had to say. But I didn’t know that I was going to create the amount of waves I created. But I don’t regret writing it because that’s what I believe.

– compiled by Drew Wolfson Bell

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