Approached by ICE Out MTL organizers clad in bright orange and neon green vests, protestors and passers-by were offered a slip of paper that asked the question many in Canada  have been struggling with as the US seemed to spiral: “What can we do from Canada?” One such person was Jacob Wesoky, president of Democrats at McGill, who The McGill Daily interviewed prior to the protest. As an American abroad, Wesoky cited combatting this sense of hopelessness as a driving force behind helping to organize ICE Out MTL: “There are a lot of Americans here, and it’s easy to feel powerless watching all of this chaos from afar. But in Canada, we’re not powerless. We still have a voice.”

Olivia, a second-year McGill student who braved the -10 degree weather to join the protest, indicated a similar sentiment: “I wish I could participate in all the protests happening in the US right now. It’s really hard to see everything going on from here and feeling kind of helpless.”

In addition to calls for the abolishment of ICE, bluntly referred to by one speaker as the “new American gestapo,” ICE Out MTL was also intended as a wake-up call for Canadians. As such, Wesoky outlined the details behind Indivisible Québec’s demand in their pre-protest press release to end “Canadian firms’ complicity” in financing ICE. His examples range from post-secondary institutions like McGill to firms based in Ontario, Quebec, and British Columbia. 

“McGill holds over $2.2 million in investments in Palantir, the AI surveillance company that’s behind ICE’s immigration crackdown and the illegal surveillance of millions of Americans. Ontario-based Roshel supplies armoured vehicles to ICE. Montreal-based GardaWorld staffed Florida’s Alligator Alcatraz, which was the site of some of the worst human rights abuses in modern American history. Vancouver-based Hoopsuite provides social media services that amplify ICE’s propaganda.” Exemplified by chants of “Quebec stop funding ICE’s crimes.” Participants of ICE Out MTL made it clear that they would not tolerate Canadian complicity in funding and supplying ICE.

At around 1:30 PM, protestors were led around the corner to Dorchester Square, where they were presented with a QR code to contact their MPs in support of the No More Loopholes Act. The bill, first proposed in 2025, seeks to tighten export restrictions for Canadian arms manufacturers. As the website handed out through that QR code during ICE Out MTL puts it, the hope is that the No More Loopholes Act will stop the Canadian funneling of “unrestricted and unregulated arms to Trump’s illegal wars, ICE’s campaign of terror, and Israel’s ongoing genocide.” 

Their breath floating into the cloudless sky, the multigenerational crowd assembled in Dorchester Square cheered and jeered as vested organizers, including Wesoky and lead organizer Michael Lipset, delivered passionate speeches against ICE and in support of immigrants and those protesting in Minneapolis. Lipset, a Montreal resident originally from Minnesota, compared Trump’s America to Nazi Germany and declared, “This is not about border security. This is about state power without constraint.” 

Wesoky made a direct appeal to Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney in his speech, referencing Carney’s widely covered Davos address: “Part of taking down the sign from the window, part of no longer living within the lie, is recognizing the reality in the United States right now. […] If Canada is the beacon of hope and freedom that you say it is, then Canada will open its doors and protect the rights and dignity of migrants and asylum seekers.” Wesoky also called for an end to the Safe Third Country Agreement (STCA) between Canada and the US, which requires refugee claimants to request protection only from the country they arrive in: “[The STCA exists] under the premise that the United States is a safe country for immigrants to seek asylum. […] The United States does not respect immigrant rights.” 

At around 2:30 PM, protestors walked back to the cramped sidewalk in front of the US Consulate. Despite a reduced headcount, the crowd resumed loudly chanting, shouting through megaphones, and holding up their signs. Refusing to go unnoticed, one person rattled a green tambourine, while another blew through a harmonica. Half an hour later, just before the scheduled end of the demonstration, ICE Out MTL organizers thanked those still remaining and made a final appeal: “Keep making your voice heard. Keep showing up.” 

ICE now has the largest budget of any US law enforcement agency in history. Nevertheless, Wesoky, who began efforts to protest against government-sponsored brutality by organizing a walkout at his middle school following the 2018 Parkland school shooting, seemed undeterred. In organizing ICE Out MTL, he hoped Americans back home could see that “the world is noticing what’s happening in the US, and we’re not going to sit back and just watch it happen.” 

The post McGill Students Rally Against ICE  appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The following interview has been edited for clarity and conciseness.

Justin Friedberg for The McGill Daily (MD): How did you guys get involved with the Classics Play? What was the development process like for Antigone?

Madelyn Mackintosh (MM): We were taking [History and Classical Studies Associate Professor] Lynn Kozak’s Greek myth class together last year (romantic). I wanted to direct again and we were in class when Lynn said they were looking for a director. I had heard of the Classics Play and the Greek myth class was interesting. I also knew I’d be working with Lynn, who runs the Classics Play and is lovely and wonderful. I was drawn to Antigone given the geopolitical context of the time (late February of last year, when Trump had just been inaugurated). So I asked Adam Zanin if he would do a raw translation of the Ancient Greek text, which he did over the summer, and Caroline if she would help with the writing.

A big part of the division of labor between Caroline and I was how to structure the show as a contemporary play as opposed to the original Sophoclean text. That restructuring element was me. I come from a politics background and Caroline comes from a writing background. A lot of the show is an ethical debate between the characters, so I can do that, I can speak and write like a politician effectively. But when it comes to the storytelling pieces, that is where I needed Caroline very desperately. 

Caroline Little (CL): You had a dream, I made it real. 

MD: During that writing process, how did you approach adapting the play for a contemporary audience?

MM: We joke that they had just invented theatre. There’s a lot of distance between what you would expect from a play today and how they did it. Some of that is cultural. In Ancient Greece, you weren’t allowed to show death on stage. We wanted to reintegrate some elements of the story that were recounted off stage. The original text is similar to myth. There’ll be gods introduced in the story but they assume you know the context and they aren’t explored further. There are several characters that I think are underused — Antigone’s sister is a great example of this. In the original text, she acts as a foil to Antigone in the first third of the show and then vanishes. 

CL: Now she ends the show on a massive monologue that I felt guilty writing.

MM: Also, this is a hefty show. I hope it feels like we’re depicting a tangible form of tyranny. It’s one thing to play a maniacally evil character like a Disney villain — it’s another to play somebody who’s evil in a way that you can look in the news and see is hurting people right now.

CL: We were really looking to create an evil that people would understand. 

MM: Stephen Miller was the biggest influence for Creon’s voice. I don’t know that I hate anyone more than Miller. Part of the rationale for that is he’s not dumb. He’s an intelligent form of evil who can articulate why he hates immigrants, people of color, and gay people. It was important to me that Creon felt like a real person with realistic motivations and traits and some softness or humanity in places. 

CL: I think it’s a lot worse when villains have humanity. It’s easier to hate people who don’t seem like you at all. This show operates along the gray area. 

MM: In staging the show, I wanted the audience to feel like the citizenry of Thebes. If you saw this injustice, what would you do? Would you speak up? Would you tell what you think is the truth, even if it required sacrifice?

MD: Speaking of staging, why set the play in the 1920s?

CL: We were influenced by the Weimar era in Germany, a time of rapid progressivism. Germany was pro gay and trans. Marlene Dietrich, who inspired Antigone’s costuming, was openly bisexual and operated in gay clubs. You wouldn’t think that came right before World War II. Unfortunately, I think we’re seeing a lot of that now from the 2010s into the 2020s: an explosion of progressivism and then a rapid decline back into alt-right thinking. 

MM: A big part of the show, in my view, is about cycles of tyranny and violence and how cruelty begets more cruelty. I’m fascinated by the notion that we can give this almost 2,500 years old text the aesthetics of the early 1900s and some of the language of today and it still makes sense. Asking people to think about that lineage of tyranny was part of the goal. Another important thing to me about the show is I think Antigone is driven by love. It sometimes sounds silly or cringey, but I think empathy is the strongest antidote we have to the form of tyranny that we see on the rise today. I don’t think it is a coincidence that this was the show that came out of a writing partnership with the person I’ve been dating for three years. I think it allowed some of the love that the characters share for one another to be expressed in the text more clearly. 

CL: Yeah, and it also meant that you could be a lot more honest with me than most writing partners. 

MD: Why is the Classics Play important? 

CL: It’s important these texts aren’t studied in a vacuum. These stories are still relevant. When you study them in a library or conference, you forget that people wrote and performed them, that it touched them in a certain way. I think it’s important that these shows continue to be staged and it’s great work that Lynn is doing to make sure that happens. It’s really important to hear something. You can’t know if a poem is working until you’ve said it out loud, and I think it’s the same with theatre as well. 

Antigone ran from February 4-7, 2026 in the Grand Hall of Montreal’s Le 9e.

The post Adapting Antigone: A Discussion with the Director and Writers appeared first on The McGill Daily.

They were wrong. The Oasis concert I attended on August 31 at MetLife Stadium, less than 10 miles outside of Manhattan, was the perfect distillation of what makes the band timeless: a blend of loud and unrelenting rock ‘n’ roll energy with a dash of triumphant melancholy. Having completed 26 sold-out shows in the UK, Europe, and North America, the only ‘breaking’ so far has been on Ticketmaster. The website repeatedly crashed as millions rushed to purchase their chance to see a band that hasn’t released new music in nearly 17 years. 

Fans patient enough to surmount endless queues and technical difficulties were met with exorbitant prices. This was due to Ticketmaster’s controversial use of ‘dynamic pricing’, which adjusts ticket prices based on demand (one $135 ticket more than doubled to $350 when the sale began). 

As I got a sense of the resale landscape, I watched my chances of snagging a decently priced ticket fall apart. It got to the point that I began to see a $700 general-admission floor ticket as relatively affordable. That being said, I felt like it was now or never to see this band I had idolised since middle school. Like a detective, I spent hours flipping through and automatically refreshing ticketing websites to find a good price. I even considered flying to Toronto, where tickets were cheaper. Finally, the day before the concert at MetLife, I was able to find two seats with ’obstructed views’ for passable, though otherwise laughable, prices. 

Dressed in Lennon-esque sunglasses and a green bucket hat, my brother and I left early to catch the opening acts, Cast and Cage the Elephant. Though unfamiliar with Cast, walking into the concrete monolith of MetLife to the sound of their loud guitar-rock supercharged my excitement. After waiting in the long merchandise line for an overpriced t-shirt, we went to our seats and, thankfully, the only thing obstructing our view was the metal support tower for a colossal speaker. When Cage the Elephant came roaring out, I was astonished by the boundless energy of their frontman, Matt Shultz, who sprinted back and forth across the stage while belting bluesy rock like “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” and pop-rock anthems like “Cigarette Daydreams.” Schultz exclaimed how happy he was to be there, echoing the grateful and eager attitude of a stadium full of fans who never thought they’d be able to see Oasis in concert. 

After Cage the Elephant finished their set, the restless crowd waited with bated breath. At almost exactly 8:45 p.m., shocked that a band known for their renegade attitude would be so timely, a compilation of reunion headlines and amazed social media posts began flashing to the heavy drumming, bent guitar, and choral ‘ah’s of the song “F****n’ in the Bushes.” Then, all at once, the band came striding onto the stage to rapturous applause. Noel looked stoic as ever. Liam, in his usual black parka and holding a pair of maracas, began screaming a cry for “Oasis fans in the area” as the massive screens behind him announced “New Jersey, this is happening.” The refrain of the aptly-named opener “Hello” — “It’s good to be back” — was given enhanced meaning. 

Liam sounded incredible, a far cry from his mangled vocals in the mid-2000s and diminished range throughout the 2010s. That night, he ripped through tune after tune with a precision, passion, and power that nearly rivaled his classic 90s falsetto. Similarly, the band was on point, with Noel, Paul “Bonehead” Arthurs, Colin “Gem” Archer, and Andy Bell playing each song with intensity and emotion while not missing a note. 

The setlist they chose mostly focused on their earlier, more popular, and critically acclaimed albums like “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?” and “Definitely Maybe” while also playing a few highlights from later work like Noel’s ethereal 2002 ballad “Little by Little.” It was close to a perfect Oasis setlist, though I would’ve loved to hear deeper cuts like “Boneheads Bank Holiday” and the not-so-hidden gem “She’s Electric.”

The band had finally achieved the kind of American welcome that had eluded them in the 90s. A particular highlight was before the shredded guitar introduction to “Cigarettes and Alcohol”, when the largely American audience was instructed to turn around, put their arms around one another, and bounce, a British football ritual known as the ‘Poznan.’ 

A creature of the digital age, I was shocked to see so few phones in the air. I had never felt more a part of a crowd-community, one that was evidently multigenerational and diverse in every sense of the word. Despite free-flowing cans of beer and the smell of marijuana wafting through the air, almost everyone was present and savouring each moment they had waited so long for. 

Liam’s humour and boastful playfulness were on full display, placing a tambourine between his teeth during “Acquiesce” and making rambling, quasi-inspirational speeches between songs: “The record companies says you gotta play the game, kids, or you’ll be chopped liver… Well I can stand here tonight in front of you beautiful people in this magnificent stadium and tell you, you don’t have to play the f***ing game.”

At the same time, the band also put their humanity in plain view. Noel seemed to almost tear up during his gut-wrenching performance of “Half the World Away,” a gentle elegy about wanting to escape yourself. Liam expressed appreciation to their fans during interludes and even dedicated “Live Forever” to “the kiddies in Minneapolis”, referring to the Annunciation Catholic School shooting four days earlier that left two children dead. 

After two hours of humour, humanity, and joy, Oasis ended the concert by playing a medley of hits: “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” “Wonderwall,” and “Champagne Supernova.” As someone who wasn’t alive during Oasis’ most influential decade, I can confidently say this concert was not a nostalgic cash-grab. The band seemed genuinely happy and excited to be back on stage, with the siblings sharing smiles and concluding with a brotherly embrace and celebratory fireworks. The Gallaghers are better together because they perfectly complement one another: Liam’s voice and presence with Noel’s words and melodies make for pure musical magic.  I left elated, treasuring the ringing in my ears and the chance to have seen one of my favourite bands live.

The post It’s Good to Be Back appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The transfer of around 60 per cent of McGill’s physical collection to an automated 4,200 square metre off-site facility was carried out alongside the ambitious Fiat Lux Project, which aimed to “create a new central Library complex dramatically reconfigured to suit modern users.” Announced in 2019 as part of the bicentennial ‘Master Plan’ to wholly revitalize McGill’s campuses, Fiat Lux promised to “more than double available seating” in a newly incorporated McLennan-Redpath Library.

But Fiat Lux — Latin for ‘let there be light’ — was prematurely snuffed out when McGill President and Vice-Chancellor Deep Saini announced, in a September 2024 Senate meeting, that the administration had reached the “painful decision” to suspend the $33 million project. Saini attributed recent project cuts, including the termination of Fiat Lux, to the Quebec government’s decision to significantly increase tuition for out-of-province students. This decision has decreased overall enrollment revenue and helped balloon the university’s deficit, from a projected $15 million in the 2025 fiscal year to a staggering projected $45 million in the 2026 fiscal year. In early February of this year, McGill released a statement tersely reflecting on the Quebec government’s actions: “It has taken more than two centuries to build this world-renowned university, but just over a year for these decisions to harm it deeply.”

During the aforementioned Senate meeting, McGill Librarian and Senator David Greene inquired whether or not the Fiat Lux project was “suspended permanently, or if there was an intention to resume it in the future.” The question was met by a resounding shrug, with Senator Fabrice Labeau responding that “the University would continue exploring options for how to best utilize available space to meet the evolving needs of students and other library users, though there was no timeline for these efforts.” With plans on hold indefinitely, when will the 400,000 books planned for return to a renovated McLennan-Redpath complex be sent back? It doesn’t take a keen eye to see that there aren’t 4,000 books in McLennan, let alone 400,000.

What we’re left with are the remnants of an unfinished vision. Walking slowly down corridors of empty white bookcases as the tube lights above me eerily flicker to life, a sense of loss pervades my thoughts. Not only because the fluorescent blinking reminds me of a haunted house, but because technology continues to push the physical medium towards obsolescence. I’ve been asking myself: “What is a library without books?” It’s a community centre or study hall, but no longer a library. Those naked shelves stand as monuments to a dying age. The physical book had a good run of over 4,000 years anyway, right?

But with threats to internet access, the physical book may be more essential now than ever before. I recently finished reading the book Apple in China by Patrick McGee, chronicling the fascinating and alarming story of how China allowed for the rise of Apple and, perhaps more importantly, how Apple played a pivotal role in the rise of China as the world’s manufacturer. While reading the book, I learned about the erection of China’s so-called ‘Great Firewall,’ which limits and surveils their citizen’s internet access, and Apple’s surrender to the whims of that same authoritarian police state: “…when Beijing called for virtual private networks to be removed from the China App Store, Apple complied, and 674 VPN apps were deleted. This was a massive concession, placing all iPhone users in the country in a splintered-off version of the internet” (298). The playbook is clear: limiting information limits resistance. The internet is not as secure as some believe it to be, even from the institutions we trust with our personal data.

You may say this repression of free speech can’t happen here, but take it from an American abroad: it could. The rise of an anti-informational age at home following the re-election of President Donald Trump, along with increasing book-bans across the country, means that free and easy access to university libraries and their physical contents should be enthusiastically protected. I agree that ample space must be made in our libraries for students, but when does principle overtake practicality? In a world on a collision course with AI, reliable information is soon to become an even more valuable commodity than it already is. Though Fiat Lux was not unreasonable for its promise of increased space, the removal of nearly 2.5 million books from the immediate access of McGill students is a distressing overreach that is only underscored by the project’s failure to proceed.

I came to McGill in 2023, and was one of the last to see the Library before its hollowing. I remember my neck hurting from walking up and down the aisles, stunned at the sheer size of McGill’s collection and proud to be a student here. In the free time that a freshman had, which was plenty, I would sit down and flip through whatever interested me. I miss that.

Though a sleek remodeling is worthwhile in theory, the Fiat Lux approach to separating libraries from their books removes from libraries their very souls. Books are as much a symbol of the appreciation of knowledge as they are an instrument to enhance understanding. A library without its books is a car without wheels: you can sit down, but it won’t take you far.

The post Bring Back the Books appeared first on The McGill Daily.