contents feature 4 Longing for a Night Out: McGill’s Driest Semester 14 Lightening the Load 22 Montreal’s Independent Cinema Scene Faces a Prolonged Intermission 32 The Certainty of CERB: Decluttering Canada’s Aid Programs
news 8 Remote Yearning 10 A Mental Health Pandemic 12 For McGill’s LGBTQ+ community, Staying Home presents its own challenges
opinion 16 In Defence of Breakout Rooms 18 Love in the Time of Corona 20 Social Responsibility in a COVID-19 World
arts & Culture 26 Build Your Own Instagram Comedy Festival 28 Keeping Montreal’s Theatre Scene Alive in the Age of Cancelled Shows and Zoom Musicals 30 Greek Life at McGill, From a Distance
business & tech 34 Opiano: A Student Favourite Struggles to Stay Afloat 36 How COVID-19 Accelerated a New Frontier of Data Analytics and Business Intelligence 38 The Resilience and Adaptivity of Banking in the Pandemic 40 Struggles in the Sports World: How the Pandemic has Changed the Game 2
Editor’s Note Rose Bostwick Managing Editor
That this is a unique, unprecedented time to be a McGill student almost need not be said. As our university and the world struggle to adapt to the COVID-19 pandemic, many of us are coping with issues related to distance. Unlike most semesters, we are not all together in Montreal, and those of us who are here are dealing with prolonged red zone restrictions and social distancing. McGill’s campus has not buzzed with its usual activity since before last March: virtually no students or professors frequent lecture halls; there is no need to search for a seat during midterm season in the long-closed libraries; no longer do we sit in cafes to chat about our plans to go out on the weekend at a bar, club, or party. Most of us are separated from family and friends by borders or health obligations. Many are experiencing loss, isolation, and acute fear. In such bleak circumstances, how is our community making it work? How are we staying connected from a distance? Considering these questions, this digital edition of the Bull & Bear features work that not only addresses the struggles of forced distance, but also highlights the ways we are going the distance — persevering through a period of collective hardship. Many articles here discuss core aspects of McGill and Montreal that have been lost or altered: nightlife, theatre and cinema, Greek life, and more. Others explore ethical and practical questions about this “new normal,” ranging from dating, to adjusting to online school, to supporting small local businesses, to simply maintaining a daily routine. As you read these pieces, please consider these themes of optimism, solidarity, and human persistence. Speaking for all of us at the Bull & Bear, I truly hope you enjoy this semester’s digital magazine.
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Longing for aMcGill’s Night Out: Driest Semester by Andie Habert & Claire Chang
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“We didn’t appreciate what we had until it was gone.” When COVID-19 guidelines forced classes online and restricted group gatherings, Chair of AUS Bar des Arts (BdA) Gabrielle Lametti was disappointed and saddened, remembering how important regular social events like BdA were to her student experience. “Having that weekly routine, that expectation of being able to relax, and socialize … really helped me personally feel more comfortable at McGill,” Lametti recalled. Lametti’s disappointment reflects a Fall 2020 semester that requires adapting to new circumstances: while all university classes are now taught through remote delivery, McGill’s student life experience has struggled to adapt in a similar manner. Restrictive provincial regulations and the eventual October 1 red zone regulations that prohibited all indoor gatherings squandered students’ hopes of maintaining some semblance of a traditional McGill social experience.
In recent years, drinking and partying have remained central tenets of McGill’s infamous “work hard, play hard” student experience. This experience is entirely different for first-year students this semester, who have had to find ways to make friends and connections without the traditional means of partying and events.
students, such as Tokyo, Apartment 200, Ecole, or Kampai, she was barely familiar with the names of these institutions and did not believe she had ever visited.
“We didn’t appreciate what we had until it was gone.”
“For upper-year students who live alone, or have few roommates, or roommates they’re not really close with, that sense of loneliness and difficulty to connect with others must really be weighing on them right now,” Lametti said. “So we’re really hoping to send a message that the community is there, even though we can’t see it right now.”
According to U0 Science student Charli Starkman, first-years explored new avenues of going out at the beginning of the semester, booking tables at Le Warehouse and Suwu on St. Laurent. “They still had a D.J. at Le Warehouse, and you could dance at your booth.” However, Starkman noted that “once you’re inside, they were pretty strict. One time, I was asked to leave because I switched tables.” When Starkman was asked if she had ever visited clubs popular among McGill
First-years are not the only ones struggling with social restrictions. Lametti says that the lack of social events is affecting upper-year students just as much, if not more.
U1 Arts student Jessie Alexandor sympathizes with Lametti’s thoughts, saying that continuing to foster friendships with the people she met in first-year has been difficult to do during lockdown. “There are a lot of people that I wish I could see, and I can kinda feel myself falling out of touch with certain people,” Alexandor said. “But it’s a common struggle, so
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hopefully it’ll go back to normal quickly.” The lack of social interaction affecting many students, including Alexandor, is not only due to the absence of student-run events this semester. Another key aspect of McGill’s social scene is spending late nights partying in the bars and clubs of St. Laurent: this experience plays a significant role in helping students, especially first-years, build communities and establish long-lasting friendships. “Going out played a big role in acclimating,” Alexandor said. Evidently, nightlife was a central aspect of many students’ social lives. The new restrictions and lack of similar opportunities to see and meet friends have required adjustment on the part of many. “We practically lived on St. Laurent [last year],” U1 Engineering student Evan Wechsler said. “I walked through there yesterday and I can’t believe how much time we spent there. It’s really strange not being able to see our friends as frequently as we did last year.” McGill students aren’t the only ones missing the nightlife on St. Laurent. The bars and nightclubs miss McGill students in return, as the last eight months of forced closure have brought severe economic consequences. According to Cafe Campus Coordinator, JF Beaudoin, the popular club — which has been closed since March — is worried about the financial impact of the pandemic. “We were very concerned,” Beaudoin said. “The bank account is short-
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ening … our plan was to stay put and save our money to make sure we survive this crisis. It depends on the next protocols from the authorities, but right now it is better to stay closed.” Similarly, Phil Allard — who is part of A5 Hospitality, the group that owns Kampai, Ecole, Suwu, and Apartment 200 — noted that Kampai has lost 95 percent of sales since the start of the pandemic after being reduced to only serving takeout. Even though Kampai went from “running at full capacity to nothing,” Allard says Kampai, along with the other clubs and bars he owns, will be fine due to the number of owners and size of the business.
“We practically lived on St.Laurent [last year]” While Cafe Campus, Kampai, and other larger businesses aim to reopen in the future, other, smaller clubs on St. Laurent have not been so lucky. On October 26, Tokyo Bar officially announced that it had permanently closed. DJ J-FRO, a staple of Tokyo’s lineup for the last 12 years, is sad to see the institution shut its doors, speaking of how Tokyo maintained a primarily student-based audience over its 23 years, noting that Tokyo’s “wild” Thursday nights kept students coming back week after week. “On Thursdays, people would be dancing on the bar because the club was too full,” J-FRO said. “I’ve seen body-
surfing; anything goes on Thursdays.” But aside from the partying, DJ J-FRO is sad to know his nights at Tokyo are behind him. “I’ve worked at many places, and Tokyo is one of the only places that as an employee I could give a hug to everyone before the shift started, and again at the end of the night before the staff left.” Despite the loss of Tokyo, Beaudoin doesn’t think the permanent closures of popular bars and clubs on St. Laurent will affect Montreal’s nightlife and culture in the long-term. “I don’t think it’s going to change,” Beaudoin said. “I think a lot of businesses are going to close, but a lot of businesses are going to open when it’s over. It’s just a change of hands.” But DJ J-FRO doesn’t seem so sure. “Tokyo was one of the first places to publicly announce that they were closed. Despite Tokyo’s history and reputation, they are gone. How many places are gonna go in the next three months? It’s just a matter of time.” Even if clubs and bars eventually reopen at full capacity, students harbour concerns about gathering in a club with hundreds of strangers once again. “It’s hard to even imagine that we would put ourselves in a room with 300 other people that we didn’t know and just not care at all,” Wechsler said. Echoing Wechsler’s thoughts, Alexandor expressed concerns about adjusting back to a very social environment af-
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ter being isolated for so long. She says she’s “nervous,” but hopes “everyone will get used” to going back to clubs, and spending time in large social settings when restrictions are eventually lifted. Beaudoin shares this sentiment, drawing parallels between the COVID-19 pandemic and the Spanish flu. “After the 1918 pandemic, there was the Roaring 20’s,” Beaudoin noted, saying that the only changes he foresees at Cafe Campus are the possible implementation of increased sanitary measures. “When the crisis is really over, it’s going to be like before,” Beaudoin said. “Our customers are young and will forget very, very quickly. I think all of society will change, but in a fun place like ours, without old people, you’ll forget all that. It’s going to be like before.” Beaudoin’s optimism is reflected by Allard, who thinks that “the moment we’re able to open our doors, people will come back because people love to go out and see their friends.” However, DJ J-FRO thinks club-goers will be more cautious upon their return to St. Laurent. “If everything went back to normal tomorrow, I’d be more cautious about who’s partying around me. If someone randomly grinded on me, I don’t know how I’d feel about that anymore.” Even though DJ J-FRO and some students are apprehensive, BdA VP Social Grace Jumbo thinks first-years will be the ones to rebuild McGill’s social community, including events like BdA, Frosh, Carnival and Hype Week, after the pandemic is over.
“They’re going to come out resilient and hopefully it’ll be them in the end who builds these things back up to make them what we want them to be,” Jumbo said. “And hopefully, with the guidance of some people who are older who can tell them how it was, they can get all these great things and figure out how to plan them … to make sure everyone feels welcome at McGill.” In general, the sentiment among club associates, student event organizers, and students is that there will be a significant effort to return to a normal McGill social life as soon as it is safe to do so. “Hang in there,” Jumbo said. “It’s going to get better. People are working on these things [BdA, Frosh, Carnival, Hype Week]; we’re ready when Canada’s ready, and Quebec is ready.”
“We’re maybe going to be poor, but we’re going to open.” Beaudoin feels the same way, and he guarantees that after the pandemic is over, Cafe Campus will still be there for any and all students who want to return to partying on St. Laurent. “For the McGill community, we’re saying we’re going to open for sure, someday,” Beaudoin said. “We’re going to be there. We’re maybe going to be poor, but we’re going to open.”
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Remote Yearn NEWS
by Tali Pukier
While 2020 was full of monumental breakthroughs, drawbacks, scandals, and discoveries, the subjects of love, relationships, sex, and dating were barely mentioned. COVID-19 has had immense impacts on all aspects of social life, including forging new romantic (or sexual) relationships. McGill students shared their views on what COVID-19 meant for their love lives in these unprecedented times. Single students Lockdown has posed many challenges for those looking for casual hookups (i.e. “one night stands”), rendering them essentially nonexistent. Many students including Emily, U2 student “don’t feel comfortable randomly hooking up unless maybe we had been talking for a while and I was sure they were someone I would want to introduce to my life and my circle.” Without the aura of opportunity that bars and clubs bring to casual sex, students have been turning to dating apps and other social media platforms for their meet-cutes. “[I got Tinder] because there’s no opportunity to even have a casual flirt. I just
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missed flirting with random people, and there’s no opportunity to engage in that sort of thing,” said U1 Arts student Polly. For some, the entire online dating process is losing its charm. “I’m not putting in any effort right now because I don’t care to go through the motions of trying to talk to someone online,” Max U2 student says. “There is a risk; they could be a person I really don’t vibe with, and [if not for COVID-19] I could randomly hook up with someone that I didn’t end up liking and have zero consequences to that.” While many students have admitted to an increase in watching porn or other stimuli, housemates in U1 Maya*, Alice,* and Jane* had a day outing to Seduction, a Montreal sex shop, while on the hunt for vibrators. “[Alice and Jane] had been pining for [a vibrator] since last year... The day we got free from quarantine we went together to get them,” Alice said. There is a trend of polarization between single students navigating their sexual preferences during the red zone: either
constantly on the plethora of opportunities being missing while single, or not at all. Emmett*, a U1 Arts Student, gave his take on his current circumstance. “I feel like when I’m not having sex as regularly, I don’t think about it as much. When I’m having frequent sex I’ll feel better, and play it back in my head, but if its been a while it becomes distant memory.” Students in new relationships For those who may be disheartened by lockdown, not all hope is lost. Amy, U2 student and her boyfriend began their relationship just as McGill closed in March of last semester. They were stuck in the same city for the summer due to lockdown, and began a relationship built on getting to know each other while maintaining social distance. “He ended up buying a canoe and I found a lake nearby and all we did was canoe and have picnics on these little islands we had found. It was probably one of the best summers I’ve had.” Marshal* and Jen* were friends in Residence during first year, until establishing a relationship over the summer while
ning FaceTiming and texting. “I don’t think [the relationship] would’ve happened like this if it wasn’t for COVID,” Jen said. “I wasn’t doing anything all summer other than talking to him. [If lockdown didn’t exist] I would’ve been going to parties and probably hooking up with other guys, but I didn’t do any of that.” Students in long distance relationships (LDRs) Travel restrictions and bans were among the first global policies to be enacted when lockdowns began in March 2020. As cities begin their slow transition to increased functionality, travel opportunities continue to be limited or nonexistent. For students in LDRs, lockdown has posed many challenges. Jamie* and her boyfriend had been in a LDR for 3 years when travel restrictions were imposed. Realizing they may not see each other for over a year, they turned to FaceTime and Zoom in hopes of maintaining communication. Time changes began taking a toll on their availability, and Jamie* decided to end the relationship. “It was pretty
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hard for me to end it, it’s not that I didn’t love him anymore because I did … It was frustrating because if there wasn’t the virus I think we would have made it work.” Physical intimacy is a large component of any romantic relationship. While LDRs make intimacy more sporadic, travel bans prohibit an entire aspect of relationships that strengthen human connection. “It’s a lot harder to make up after arguments over a Zoom call—normally a hug would fix things, but what are you supposed to do when you haven’t hugged your significant other in 421 days?” said Margot*, a McGill student. While some relationships weren’t fit to last, the ones that did remained strong. Rebecca Chen is thankful for what COVID-19 did to strengthen her relationship, saying they were able to navigate the uncertainty of lockdown together, providing support to each other in a way that deepened their connection. “Emotionally, I would say that with every piece of horrific news that came
up this past year and during the pandemic, we relied on each other more for comfort and some sort of reminder that not everything is terribly bleak.” Where lockdown brought frustration and conflict to some students in LDRs, it brought reassurance to others. “I find it comforting being stable and committed to someone. It’s also fairly easy to not have a wandering eye when dating is so greatly limited. Tinder was draining and obnoxious already—I can’t imagine what the pandemic dating scene must be like,” said one student. As lockdown continues, there seem to be implications for all, despite relationship status. One thing has become increasingly clear: when things resume to normal, one wonders whether a new era of dating, relationships, and physical intimacy will have emerged. * Names have been changed to protect anonymity.
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A Mental
Health Pandemic by Eva van Dam
On September 25, Quebec implemented red zone restrictions in Montreal, indicating that the city had entered a second wave of COVID-19. Despite the more obvious impacts of the disease on one’s physical health, COVID-19’s more hidden facets have surfaced in light of the beginning of the school year. The continuation of restrictions and the increasing school pressure has had an extensive toll on the McGill student body’s mental health. Ever since the beginning of the pandemic in March, students have been expressing symptoms of depression, OCD, increasing feelings of isolation, a rise in anxiety levels, eating disorders resurfacing, and both physical and psychological claustrophobia. U3 Arts student Tima Chokr has expressed that since March, her past anxieties have been adding up and her mental health is considerably more fragile than before. “I feel like any inconvenience that adds to my stress now is like, ‘Wow, okay, here we go again,’ especially for mundane little inconveniences to which I never even would have reacted to before,” said Chokr. U3 Arts student Faustine Dujardin argued that, although she does not feel like her mental health has been impacted directly, she has noticed a change in her everyday routine. “My mental health has not been more fragile, but I have become more solitary,” said Dujardin. “My routine changed, I am less sensitive to the news, and I don’t feel the need to go out and do stuff all the time like I used to.” The implementation and prolongation of the health measures in Montreal also seem to be uniquely affecting international students. U3 Arts student Tiphaine Devanneaux explains that these restrictions make the mental toll of self-isolation heavier. “As an international student, our time is counted here. We want to discover Montreal with the time we have left, but as [it] all closes down, the thrill to
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explore dissipates and you just see the time passing by … without truly being able to do anything,” said Devanneaux. Dujardin also attested to this, stating that the closing of museums and other kinds of cultural activities has affected her a lot. “I’m just glad I got to enjoy them before it all closed,” said Dujardin. “I’m also happy to be in my third year because I feel like I still got to experience Montreal in a way that new students cannot.”
“Now, I feel 100% worse than I did when the pandemic started.” The online Fall 2020 semester at McGill has only increased the levels of pressure that students feel. Dr. Vera Romano, director of the Student Wellness Hub at McGill, explained how both academic and COVID-19 pressure impact students’ mental health. “Hub counsellors have observed that students report increased academic anxiety due to mainly three factors,” explained Romano. “The first one being workload: a number of students report feeling like their workload is increased with remote work. The second one is academic isolation: students feel that it is harder to get academic support from a distance due to fewer group study opportunities. The third one is lower motivation: students find it harder to stay engaged in recorded lectures, and more challenging to have a healthy routine which can make academics more difficult overall.” Chork agrees, saying that “isolation in March/April felt more like a foggy dream, but once university started, the restrictions tightened again and that added onto the stress of having to do online school again. Now, I feel 100% worse than I did when the pandemic started.” U3 Management student Agatha Allain confessed that self-isolation through-
out the semester has led her to be locked in negativity. “Not being able to do anything else but work during the day makes isolation hard,” said Allain. “With nothing to distract yourself with, it’s easier to get stuck in bad thoughts.” What students often recount is the difficulty of balancing work and pleasure in isolation. U3 Arts student Eloise Poncet commented on the merging of the personal and professional sphere as a student. “With classes being online, your home becomes the place where you feel most stressed out,” said Poncet. “This role reversal has been really hard.” The Student Wellness Hub at McGill has acknowledged that COVID-19 has had a direct impact on student’s mental health, and the Hub has expanded their sectors of activities since last March in response. This includes live Zen sessions, an Art Hive, and a variety of virtual workshops to help students manage stress, build resilience, and maintain connections. Adding to that, Romano declared that “the Student Wellness Hub has also ramped up Peer Supporter Training initiatives to help support students.” However, some students have not been able to get the support they were looking for. “I tried to go to McGill [counselors] and they were fully booked, so I reached out to the ones at PsyMontreal,” said Chokr. “It is obviously not optimal since I still have to pay money while it would be free at McGill.” Dujardin also stated that despite the information from the Student Wellness Hub, it doesn’t translate to reality. “McGill has been very good in promoting their mental health support groups via emails and online, but realistically I know that if I needed help right away, I wouldn’t go through McGill because the waiting time is too long,” said Dujardin. Romano has attested to that lack of available support, saying, “our students’ eligibility to access professional services depends on provincial regulations. Our practitioners can only see students who
are physically present in Quebec, and remote appointments mean professionals require more time for the intake process and thus less time for service delivery.” Romano also explained that McGill has a hiring freeze in place, making it challenging to fill vacant positions or to add new positions at this time. “Overall, we have seen a 23 percent decrease in the volume of appointments this year. There was a 13 percent decrease in appointments with doctors, nurses, and dietitians this September and October compared to the same period last year, and a 33 percent decrease in appointments with mental health practitioners.” With the limited accessibility of formal mental health resources, students like Chokr have found alternative ways to cope with mental health problems. “Something my therapist recommended is deconstructing your negative thoughts,” Chokr said. “Think of them as if you’re listening to a friend say those things about themselves and give yourself the advice you would give them.”
“If I needed help right away I wouldn’t go through McGill because the waiting time is too long.” As this pandemic continues, the McGill community - both students and staff - have shown particular resilience in these hardships, highlighting strength and creativity even when the world is on hold. Although this article relates difficult mental health stories, its intent is to show that even in a time where we all feel lonely, talking and relating to one another can make us feel less alone: “Ça va bien aller”, mais il faut en parler! (It’s going to be ok, but we should talk about it). 11
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For McGill’s LGBTQ+ Community, Staying Home Presents its Own Challenges by Emilia Dominguez
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The LGBTQ+ community is a vulnerable minority in Canada, and as a result, COVID-19 is taking a unique toll on the physical and mental well-being of the community, according to Egale, a Canadian organization for LGBTQ+ people. Some McGill students describe feeling distant from the LGBTQ+ community because they went home or because of social distancing. Cat Alway, a U2 Arts student who identifies as queer, explains that “even though most of my friends at home are incredibly accepting, most of them are not part of the LGBT community, and I missed being surrounded by people who were LGBT.” Similarily, Rachel Jaworski, a U1 Arts student who identifies as bisexual, describes that she has felt “somewhat distant, mainly because most of [her] queer friends are here in Montreal.” For some students, being publicly out about their identity is not a possibility, due to an unaccepting home environment. According to a study in 2015, one-third of LGBTQ+ youth experience parental acceptance, while another third experience parental rejection. And, explains the Trevor Project – an organization that provides crisis support to LGBTQ+ youth – because of COVID-19, some people have had to spend more time than anticipated in unsupportive environments, especially those that may not be accepting or respectful of the LGBTQ+ community. U2 student Jane*, who identifies as a lesbian, explains how she felt distant while back at home. “[I’m] from the southern U.S. and can’t really be publicly out in my city. Because of quarantine, I couldn’t really see my gay friends and I didn’t feel comfortable engaging with the community outside of them.” Queer McGill, a support service for queer students, explained how “the most common thing we hear is that people are stuck without a support system or living in places that are not safe or supportive for queer people. It’s bad enough not being able to see your friends, but when you don’t even have anyone around who will call you by your name or accept you for who you are it can be hard to stay healthy and happy.”
Even if some students are publicly open about their identity, there can still be feelings of discomfort. Hudson*, a music student who identifies as genderfluid, describes how they are “pretty open about [their] queerness,” but unfortunately, their “family pretty much just ignores it and refuses to address it for the most part.” Further, they explained how they often get gendered and feel as though it would be easier to just “live alone” so they “could dress how [they] want without worrying about getting misgendered.” Many students have found that social media platforms, such as Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, and Tumblr, have been very helpful in staying connected to the LGBTQ+ community. Online, people can freely express themselves and interact with those that are experiencing similar problems. Virtual music festivals, such as ChamberQueer, which featured queer musicians and music, and other online events and workshops, allowed for the community to feel less isolated. Further, once the semester began, many students describe that McGill clubs and teams allowed for more inclusion and acceptance. The LGBTQ+ Engineering group, the McGill Assocation of Student Composers EDI committee, and Queer McGill were just some of the groups that were described by various students, including Hudson*, as making students feel more included and safe. In general, coming back to Montreal led to students feeling more accepted and connected with the LGBTQ+ community. However, some students have had positive experiences that may not have occurred if it weren’t for the isolation of the pandemic. John Wroe, a U1 Engineering student who identifies as a bisexual man, stated that “I actually have gotten closer to my family because they understand me a little more, since I’m always with them.” Other students feel as though having more time to reflect and spend more time in online spaces has allowed them to settle into their identity. For instance, Jane*, an Arts student, who cannot be publicly out, had been excited to finally openly
meet girls and date in person, but with the lockdown, she felt rather detached from that part of herself. However, despite being a person who never saw herself considering dating apps, she decided to do so because of these feelings of isolation and detachment from the community. Jane explained how this was “a wonderful experience” where she was able to “openly flirt with girls, [which she had] always tiptoed around, not wanting to offend straight girls or seem like a creep ([due to] internalized homophobia).” This online experience allowed her to feel “safe and comfortable.” When asked about how McGill can support LGBTQ+ students during this trying time, many students emphasized the desire for mental health and financial support. For instance, U1 Science student Sam, who identifies as a lesbian, suggests that having “a part of the Wellness Centre and/or the McGill Nightline that specializes in dealing with LGBTQ kids who are stuck in unaccepting homes because of COVID” would be beneficial for those seeking mental health support. Further, for these students that do not feel accepted or safe in their current locations, other students believe that a system for emergency financial assistance would allow for these students to move to a place where they are not at risk. Sam discusses how “opening up emergency financial aid for students in unsafe homes [will allow them to] come back to Montreal, where they will not be at risk.” According to the Human Rights Campaign’s COVID-19 research brief, LGBTQ+ people encounter significant economic disparities compared to non-LGBTQ+ individuals, meaning that they are in need of more resources to stay afloat during this pandemic. In general, Cat Alway states that “assistance for students to continue to live and study independently could be extremely beneficial for their health/safety.” * Names have been changed to protect anonymity. 13
OPINION
Lightening The Load by Sarah Sylvester and Linnea Vidger In the 1993 film Groundhog Day, Phil Connors—an egotistical weatherman portrayed by Bill Murray—finds himself reliving the same day over and over again in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Every day he wakes up to the same song (“I Got You Babe” by Sonny & Cher), reports on Punxsutawney Phil (the groundhog of Groundhog Day), and sees the same blizzard strike the small town. Despite his best attempts, Phil is unable to leave this infinite time loop. He begins binge eating, committing robbery, and having one-night stands with strangers, now aware that there are no consequences for his actions. Much like Phil, our COVID-induced isolation feels like an infinite time loop, each day more repetitive than the last. For many, this never-ending quarantine differs from Phil’s: we can’t have nearly as much fun, as the consequence is a potentially deadly disease. Frederich Nietzsche explains that this kind of eternal recurrence—cycles of never-ending, repeating events and sequences—precludes the possibility of any final escape from the present world. Nietzsche claims that the ‘greatest bur-
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den’ is not eternal recurrence itself, but the question of eternal recurrence—are we indeed stuck in this infinite time loop forever? If so, are we spending our precious time as we ought to? As the pandemic rages on with no end in sight, the question of eternal recurrence of our monotonous routines provides perhaps the biggest burden of all. This semester, our writers have uncovered many ways this burden manifests in our drastically transformed lives. From unsettling pandemic job experiences and increased election anxiety to the more grim effects of online learning on mental health and substance abuse, the pandemic has affected us in a range of ways. Towards the end of Groundhog Day, Phil discovers that he can use his situation to his advantage. He uses his foresight and abundance of time to save people from deadly accidents, learn the piano, and even pick up French (a task that many of us McGillians have yet to accomplish). What if, like Phil, we could use this time to our advantage? What if we could lighten the burden of eternal recurrence, even by just a little bit?
For our feature article, we wanted to walk through our own personal eternal recurrences, and how our seemingly redundant routines have brought unexpected benefits. Although many of us are inclined to complain to our friends about these unfortunate circumstances, we encourage our readers to reflect, even just for a moment, on how these never-ending Groundhog Days have shaped us in unforeseen ways. Linnea: Having a routine is important. Maintaining a steady routine has been shown to reduce anxiety, insomnia, and even mood cycling in bipolar patients. Especially as the pandemic has turned many of our lives upside down, a daily routine helps us maintain some normalcy. One of the most iconic morning routines in movie history is from American Psycho, in which Patrick Bateman takes us through his eerily intricate skincare and exercise regimes, including a thousand stomach crunches and an herb mint facial mask. My morning routine, though consistent, is far less glamorous. Each day I wake up around 10 am, scroll through TikTok for about 45 minutes un-
OPINION
til I force myself out of bed, after which I prepare myself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, jump in the shower, and proceed to glue my eyes to my computer screen for the remainder of the day. There is an idea of a Linnea Vidger, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me. At least it feels as though I’ve lost the “real me” amidst this dreary, infinite time loop controlled by online school. For many of us, online learning has created a routine that, despite providing comfort through consistency, has become increasingly uncomfortable in the way it disconnects us from ourselves. Determined to break the routine and reconnect with myself, I started taking daily afternoon walks in the Plateau. At first I felt awkward, wandering around with no destination. I eventually started to enjoy the process, appreciating this time for myself to zone out and forget about school for a little bit. Despite walking down the same streets each day, I always see something new; I walk into a quirky thrift store I never noticed before, pick up an empanada from a quaint Chilean market, or get serenaded by a man in La Fontaine with a guitar. This little habit I picked up helps me break the static and leave my exhausting routine, even if it’s just for the time it takes me to walk down Saint Denis. Sarah: Earth is a scary place right now. Quarantine has given us more than enough time to realize that. It seems as though this eternal loop has destroyed all normalcy we once knew; it’s inescapable and devastating. The days of going barefaced into a store seem long gone now. We desperately want to return to the uncautious lives we once knew, but the reality is they will likely never be fully restored. Quarantine is the icing on the cake of this depressing realization, causing us to ruminate endlessly in our daily routines. There’s too much time in a day to avoid the anxiety of it all. On the other hand, this copious amount of time can be refreshing in compari-
son to our overwhelmed pre-quarantine schedules. As I began to emerge from my pit of denial into acceptance, the motivation to keep myself busy grew. I took myself to a craft store during one of my daily drives and ordered yarn for curbside pickup; I had decided to learn how to crochet on a whim. It was something
“As the pandemic rages on with no end in sight, the question of eternal recurrence of our monotonous routines provides perhaps the biggest burden of all.” I’d never considered before because how many working college students have the time to crochet? But sitting down on my bed with a hook in hand, I learned the basic stitches and had my first piece done by that evening. Suddenly, in my own mind, I was a crochet prodigy. In a time where schoolwork is all I have to fill my days, my newfound hobby is something I can look forward to doing every day. It’s distracting in the best way. Every stitch commands attention and each wrap of yarn around the hook reminds me that creation is still possible in these trying times. It’s a component of my own personal time loop, yet simultaneously, it breaks the cycle ever so slightly; during the day I stress over online school, COVID, and politics, and in the evening, I wrap my misery up into a tight ball of yarn and stitch it into organization. The hobby, though simple, is therapeutic.
Without the time gifted by quarantine, it’s unlikely that I would have adopted it. This small addition to my routine has developed into something I can depend on to ease my nerves about life. Crocheting reveals the advantage of hobbies and interests, not only in a pandemic but in normal life. They provide comfort and stability in a world so unfamiliar. My packed schedule pre-COVID couldn’t have allowed it, yet my time in quarantine inspired the realization that with so little time in our lives to do what we’ve always wanted, the chance to learn something new is precious. The heavy burden of the pandemic affects us all in different ways, and although we can’t live quite as recklessly as Phil Connors, we can use this time to our advantage. This time loop may feel dreadful, and COVID is certainly nothing to take lightly, but the world will not end, even if we never return to the normal we knew. In the meantime, the biggest lesson in all of this is that we can rely on the little things to break the eternal recurrence.
OPINION
In Defence of Breakout Rooms
screen, and a dash of uncomfortable elevator conversation during which you are always asked, “how are you finding your classes?” to which you reply, “tough, as usual,” and then you part ways.
by Meghan Pereira
There’s this odd space between leaving the main Zoom session and joining the breakout room — it feels as though I am underwater, holding my breath amidst a somewhat suffocating silence. Then, when the breakout room finally connects, I resurface and catch my breath. I desperately try to tread water, asking questions and churning conversation in hopes of keeping this breakout room afloat. In many ways, online learning is like being alone in an empty body of water — all I can really do is tread water in order to stay afloat. But, is keeping one’s head above the surface worth all the effort? Social media has geared much hate towards Zoom breakout rooms, with the consensus that it can be an overall awkward experience. Even the most extroverted individual is no match for the claustrophobic breakout room, where no one dares to turn on their webcam or switch on their microphone to say hello. 16
It’s five grueling minutes of total silence, occasionally interrupted by a student accidentally unmuting themselves and shuffling around their room. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we can hear someone’s heavy breathing, a sign that life truly exists — that this alien breakout room has some kind of a buried soul after all. But as a U0 student who has attended McGill for less than a month, Zoom is all I really have to hold on to. I’ll take shuffling with a side of heavy breathing over the total isolation we’ve all had to endure. It’s like the first day of high school all over again: I’m desperate to make friends, to get involved, and most importantly, to take advantage of a clean slate. I want to be able to complain to my friends about how boring a class is. I want to be able to rant about how totally unfair the last quiz was, or about how my eyes will shrivel up into raisins if I need to endure the strain of one more reading. But when you’re a first-year university student during a pandemic, all you’ve ever known is yourself and a screen. And if you’re in residence, it’s you, your
“...when you’re a first-year university student during a pandemic, all you’ve ever known is yourself and a screen.” We often try to come up with all kinds of ingenious ways to stay connected during online school, failing to realize that, all along, our worst enemy can actually be our best friend. Imagine if we could change the way we approach our breakout rooms, ensuring that we focus on building valuable relationships with our peers instead of muting our microphones in fear. The ability to take a break from our mostly passive learning and instead define it into a shared experience is what I choose to enjoy the most about breakout rooms; I believe in it because I see its underrated and valuable potential to offer a sense of normalcy to such a chaotic experience.
OPINION
Aside from breakout rooms, there aren’t many places to actively engage in academic material. With the city under lockdown and restrictions in residences, study groups have been filed away with other boring-yet-nostalgic activities. Not only are breakout rooms the next best alternative, but there’s also value in discussing coursework with strangers. It’s easy to predict what a friend may say about a certain topic because you already know them quite well. But with strangers, there is so much uncertainty over where a conversation may go. For a generation that willingly spoke to strangers on Omegle as kids, insatiably curious by the unknown, we’ve been awfully quiet in our breakout rooms. It’s also important to remember that many students face barriers that were unthinkable a year ago. What goes on behind the screen right as a student logs onto their Zoom session is a wonder of its own. Some may be tucked away in a distant
“I navigate a breakout room the same way I learned how to swim: jumping headfirst into the unknown.” time zone, watching their city fall asleep as they just begin their day. Others barely make the session as they balance work with school. Perhaps many stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to their childhood ceiling, itching to see another university student in the flesh. Breakout rooms strip all of these complexities down to just a bunch of university students talking about university things. In the eyes of Zoom, all you really are is a student. Breakout rooms are a taste of the “back to normal” that we have all been so desperately craving: we can’t keep dreaming about life going back to the way it was if we are not doing anything about it. In a world where everything is up in the air, the ability to take charge and breathe
life into what we are learning is incredibly powerful; even if it is only for, say, ten minutes during an 8:30 am lecture. I navigate a breakout room the same way I learned how to swim: jumping headfirst into the unknown. It’s scary at first, as there is much uncertainty to unpack, but I promise that you will resurface. So I am on team breakout room (but do not confuse this with confidence; my heart still sinks to the bottom of my stomach every time I enter one). Knowing that I will get stronger every time I tread water can, however, make the difference between sinking into the whirlpool of online school and rising into a meaningful (albeit virtual) undergraduate experience.
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OPINION
Love in The Time of Corona By Alia Shaukat As Montreal is now facing red zone restrictions, I have taken it upon myself to fill the time with cozy movie nights, watching all of my favorite uncomfortably sappy romantic comedies (and forcing my roommate to do the same). Recently, I came across the 2001 film Serendipity, the perfect culmination of the classic “love in New York City” storyline that we all find ourselves romanticizing. This one, as you might have guessed from the title, depicts two people who repeatedly and randomly meet in a series of admittedly improbable, serendipitous scenarios. After one of these meetings, the woman writes her name and phone number in a book, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Eventually, her love interest finds the 18
book at a used bookstore and, predictably, they fall in love after years of separation. While indulging in this film on a particularly cold Sunday night, I was hit with a sense of confusion—and, to be completely honest, a tinge of jealousy— when thinking about this early 2000s love story in contrast with my own life. I’m sure we’ve all realized that university dating and hookup culture isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, despite the optimistic perspectives of our grandmothers that like to ask “Have you met someone yet?” each time we return home for the holidays. With the novelty of the pandemic still settling in, however, we are admittedly even more distant from prospective love than ever before. Ser-
endipity made me question the validity and the value of meet-cutes and whether or not the circumstances of meeting a romantic partner will ever be the same.
“...dating app downloads and subscriptions have skyrocketed since the start of the pandemic...” In fact, during this time of online learning, we are seemingly in some of the most unromantic times yet. Our days are characterized by neck cramps from sitting in the same position for 6 hours, coupled with uncomfortably dry eyes from constantly staring at a computer screen.
OPINION
With these ailments, it is hard to see col- the end of the line. These new elements lege as truly being ‘the time of our lives.’ that online dating apps are so desperately trying to implement feel superficial, atUnsurprisingly, a 2020 study at Cam- tempting to keep dating app use up, while bridge University found that loneliness users are well-aware that they won’t be rates are significantly higher during the able to see their matches anytime soon. pandemic compared to pre-COVID-19 life. With all of these additional stress- Many colleges and universities with es, many of us want nothing more than online learning have released informato let loose. And what better way to ac- tion on safe sex during the pandemic in complish this than through the random hopes of mitigating these feelings, some Suwu makeouts and embarrassing Tin- of them with admittedly strange advice, der matches that were integral to pre- such as University of Georgia asking stuvious years? Unfortunately (or maybe dents to wear masks during sex. It’s clear fortunately for my mental health), none that most approaches to dating during the of this is possible with the pandemic, pandemic are more harm-reduction than especially after Montreal entered into prevention; a means of accepting that red zone restrictions that only allow us people will hook-up instead of expecting to interact with housemates in person. students to change hookup culture as a whole. After all, we are creatures of habit. So, if we can’t date in person, perhaps the only plausible solution is to turn to “Upon further refleconline options. Apparently, this is the tion, perhaps this very exact deduction for the majority of the idealization of love that population, as dating app downloads is represented in roand subscriptions have skyrocketed mantic comedies is not since the start of the pandemic accordonly what we want in ing to a report of Match Group’s 2020 earnings. To mitigate the ‘stay at home’ these times, but what we fatigue, many dating apps have impleneed.” mented special features that encourage dating from a distance. Bumble added a As I was watching Serendipity, I began new video chat and voice call feature to to yearn for these fateful meetings and allow people to get to know each other years of pining that characterize most in a more “face to face” way compared sappy rom-coms from the early 2000s. to simple messaging. Tinder quickly fol- As a self-diagnosed hopeless romantic, lowed suit and implemented other virtu- I can’t help but wish for a break from al elements to make acquaintance, such the normalcy of swiping. These romanas Swipe Night that allows for users to tic comedies represent something that find out more about each other through a virtual choose your own adventure.
holds such a stark contrast to my own life, which is exactly what makes them so fascinating and intriguing. Wholesome accidental hand-touches while Christmas shopping and grabbing the same pair of gloves, or writing down phone numbers on a five dollar bill may seem silly, but at least it’s something to romanticize in these very unromantic times. Upon further reflection, perhaps this very idealization of love that is represented in romantic comedies is not only what we want in these times, but what we need. It serves as an escape from the pressures of real life that, oftentimes, become too overwhelming to handle. Consuming content like Serendipity provides us with adequate distance from reality so that we can learn to romanticize our own lives once again, all while keeping a safe distance from human contact. If you think about it, love stories like that of Jonathan and Sara from Serendipity are everywhere—in the lives of our parents, grandparents, or that one friend who seemed to fall into the perfect relationship right before the pandemic struck. With this in mind, it seems as if these storybook romances could be just around the corner, on their way to us. In the meantime, I think I’ll just sit back, press play on the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, and patiently await someone to tell me “You have bewitched me, body and soul.” That moment’s coming, I’m sure.
“It’s clear that most approaches to dating during the pandemic are more harm-reduction than prevention.” Despite these new initiatives, many are questioning the real purpose of online dating during the pandemic. No one wants to be stuck in the “talking stage” forever, but if it’s impossible to safely meet up with your new Tinder crush in-person, the “talking stage” seems to be
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OPINION
Social Responsibility in a COVID-19 World “These are unprecedented times,” “this is going to be a fall semester unlike any other in McGill history,” “we are unsure about what the future will hold, but we remain optimistic.” We have all heard and, by now, have grown tired of these cliché lines that have narrated the past seven months. The uncertainty of our futures in a post-COVID-19 world is certainly a sobering thought that many of us like to avoid. The start of school has provided the perfect distraction though, especially as much of McGill’s student body returns to Montreal.
of excitement that surrounds the McGill community every September has persisted despite these precarious circumstances. As people returned to Montreal and resumed the lives that came to an abrupt halt this past March, the risk of a community-wide decreased vigilance toward COVID-19 became a growing concern.
The pandemic as a threat to public safety is still as prevalent today as it was in March. Now, however, there is an added factor: a desensitized community. The air
Less than a month into the semester, it was officially declared that Montreal was entering the second wave of COVID-19. As of October 5, there
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“Keeping our student community safe means keeping the greater Montreal community safe as well.”
by Dov Ellis
were 1,191 confirmed cases in Montreal, along with Quebec City and Chaudière-Appalaches, all of which are officially in the red zone. In response to this sudden increase in cases, the province announced new restrictions put in effect on October 8. These include bans on all in-home gatherings (for houses of more than one resident), as well as the closures of bars and in-house dining in restaurants. While the return to Montreal has been long-anticipated for many students who have spent the last six months in isolation, it is important that we take these restrictions seriously and prioritize COVID-19 safety measures, even if it comes at the cost of our social lives.
Taking a proactive stance to combat COVID-19 through measures such as limiting your social bubble and improving social distancing habits will help prevent further outbreaks among our student body. Keeping our student community safe means keeping the greater Montreal community safe as well. “I found out my friend Jason*, with whom I had come into contact, was exposed to someone who tested positive [for coronavirus], so my roommates and I got tested and isolated until Jason and the rest of us got results back,” said U2 Cultural Studies student and Milton-Parc resident Rachel*.
“...the “happening” [Milton-Parc] neighbourhood we once knew is now nearly unrecognizable in its current, quiet state.” With every passing day, more people are finding themselves in the same position as Rachel. Not seven months ago, Milton-Parc was a vibrant community, its streets constantly filled with students who could congregate without limitations to enjoy each other’s company and destress from the strenuous academic life McGill students face. Today, students are seen walking through Milton-Parc alone or in small groups, faces covered with masks. While it is incredibly important that we, as members of the community, adhere to COVID-19 precautionary guidelines, this does not change the fact that the “happening” neighbourhood we once knew is now nearly unrecognizable in its current, quiet state. According to the Government of Canada, if exposed to someone who has tested positive for COVID-19, you need to self-isolate for 14 days, even if you get tested within this period and the results come back again negative. Coronavirus has an incubation period that can last up to 14 days, meaning someone can still have the virus even if they test negative. This leaves a lot of uncertainty for McGill students, who could potentially be infected at any moment (if they do not take the proper social distancing precautions) and
who may still be carrying the virus despite testing negative. This further puts their friends and the public at risk. “I do believe we need to practice coronavirus safety measures and be as safe as possible,” said Sam, a U2 political science student. “That being said, mental health needs to be taken into account in addition to physical health, and some degree of social interaction is necessary in order to maintain a healthy mental state.” Social contact is a foundational aspect of the human experience, and we absolutely need to be able to physically interact with people to some degree. The task at hand nowadays is finding ways to practice coronavirus safety and preventative
OPINION
measures as much as possible, while considering this need for social interaction and the mental health implications of complete social isolation. With the red zone announcement came multiple restrictions regarding in-person socialization in Montreal, most notably the restriction of having guests over, not including people living by themselves. To some degree, these restrictions are not difficult to break, as there is little monitoring over students’ lives.
“...the frank truth is that these are harrowing times and, right now, we may feel the need to have our friends around us more than ever.” The absence of a realistic fear of persecution leaves a great deal of room for personal judgment within these new social restrictions. Complete isolation is an unrealistic expectation for young people living alone; however, that does not preclude extra consideration being given to how people socialize. This does not need to be an ‘all-or-nothing’ situation, nor should it be perceived as such. You may be seeing people and going to people’s houses, but limitations should be made as to the number of houses you are going to, and the number of people you are seeing at one given point. Think about it this way– if you test positive for COVID-19 or find out you were exposed, keep the list of people you need to inform as short as possible. I am not going to close this off with a message of false optimism, because the frank truth is that these are harrowing times and, right now, we may feel the need to have our friends around us more than ever. But the fact remains that we have a social responsibility to do our part in keeping the McGill and greater Montreal community as safe and free from COVID-19 as possible. * Names have been changed to protect anonymity. 21
ARTS & CULTURE
Montreal’s Independent Cinema Scene
Faces a Prolonged
Intermission by Sam Shepherd & Sarah Rose Manuszak
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Off to the Picture Shows? Interior. McLennan Library. Evening. McGill student Rachel is sitting behind a carrel desk on the fifth floor of McLennan. The year is 2019, she is maskless, and she is more concerned with submitting her POLI 320 paper in time than abiding by physical distancing measures. She just made it through the final five hundred words of her essay on Quebec sovereignty, and her fingers are practically numb from typing so fast. It’s too cold to wait outside in line for a club, and her appetite is already satiated from the expired Bento Bowl she (regretfully) purchased in the Redpath basement two hours ago. There’s only one iconic Montreal activity left that speaks to her sleep-deprived, stressed-out soul: a trip to the movies. Local cinemas in Montreal contribute to the vibrant social economy of the city by providing a platform for Québecois film directors and independent studios to showcase their work. Yet, with rising COVID-19 case counts across the country, those memorable visits to Montreal cinemas are beginning to feel a little bit like classic films themselves: social habits deemed wildly inappropriate by today’s standards remembered in a grainy, black-and-white haze. An activity that hinges upon laughing, screaming, and chowing down on snacks together in a concealed space doesn’t exactly fall within the Quebec
government’s red zone restrictions. So, how can students give back to the Montreal independent cinema community during these uncharted times?
Cinemas like du Parc or du Musée would often include student discounts so that even those living on a tight budget could afford the chance to see a live show in person.
“Local cinemas in Montreal contribute to the vibrant social economy of the city by providing a platform for Québecois film directors and independent studios to showcase their work.”
“I went to a film with journalists once,” shared Mr. Fortin. “They’re not supposed to be alive, they’re not supposed to have emotions. When one of them sniffed, it was a tsunami of emotion!” Fortin laughed. “Sure enough, the next morning, all the critics everywhere admitted they cried watching the film.”
The Bull & Bear sat down with Mr. Mario Fortin, the General Director of three independent cinemas on the Island of Montreal: Cinéma du Parc, du Musée, and Beaubien. Mr. Fortin shared some of his fondest memories working within the Montreal cinema scene, as well as some grim realities the industry is facing amid tightening COVID-19 restrictions. Remembering the Golden Age of Montreal’s Independent Cinemas Before COVID-19 upended virtually every facet of our lives, going to see a film in a cinema with others was a staple of the Montreal student experience.
Watching films in-person in a cinema has the power to connect people from all walks of life through laughter, tears, and sometimes even screams. However, Mr. Fortin admits that in recent years, the rise of digital cinemas and streaming services like Netflix has damaged the appeal of attending theatres the old-fashioned way. “Shooting films with a digital camera. You can do a feature film in 4K, Adobe, with an iPhone!” While the rise of digital theatre has threatened cinemas like Cinéma du Parc, which makes use of traditional projectors in their screenings, Mr. Fortin concedes that this change makes the process of filmmaking more accessible to filmmakers from different backgrounds. “It shuts down all the barriers to creation, to the imagination, to someone who wants to tell a story.” Thus, Montreal cinemas have long been adapting to changing industry standards, even before the coronavirus hit. Fortin shared how changes in viewing habits have forced Cinéma du Parc, Musée, and Beaubien to exercise creative problem-solving skills to keep people invested in live cinema.
“ E v e n t
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was the magic word on March 11th,” he shared. “Today, it’s only getting bigger. We are working on creating events. Films will stay for a shorter period of time on the large screen.” And events there have been. Throughout the year, Cinéma du Parc hosts various film festivals, late-night screenings of cult classics, and even affords space in their lobby to showcase creations of emerging Québecois artists. One year, Sarah went to a packed midnight screening of Charlie Kaufmen’s oddball hit Being John Malkovich at Cinéma du Parc. Another year, Sam attended a live screening of the Academy Awards that was free for all Montrealers to attend. A red carpet was unrolled in front of the main entrance to the cinemas, and there was even a raffle to win posters of the nominated films! Planning, Planning, Then Planning Some More To Navigate Changing Restrictions When the Quebec government announced the initial wave of COVID-19 restrictions in early March, employee well-being was at the forefront of Mr. Fortin’s mind: “We had to fill in an unemployment form for 58 people. The last couple of days we have been talking about the mental fragility of so many people.” In an attempt to minimize pandemic layoffs, Fortin explained the necessity of being able to adapt in such uncertain times. “The time between the announcement by the elected officials and the time when the cheque comes in the mail
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is calculated in months,” said Fortin, “that’s when I took my film programming hat and removed it and put my accounting hat on: it was a matter of accounting for budgets. Scenario A, Scenario B, Scenario C… trying to see where we stand and address all these things day by day. I don’t think I ever worked that hard in my whole career.” When the Bull & Bear asked him to detail how Cinéma du Parc addressed the restrictions, Fortin emphasized how unprecedented it was to close down the cinema: “We should reserve four or five hours to discuss all this. It is something we have never seen before. Cinemas around the world almost never close.”
“The feeling of being together will never be replaced by technology.” Fortin explained how Cinéma du Parc “reopened for two and a half months at the end of July, early August, there again it was trial and error. We didn’t know what the security, safety, cleanliness requests were, but it involved on the floor … many scenarios. Two weeks before reopening, I had all my staff back in … we did scenarios: half the staff were customers, half were employees. How do we line up the people? How do they come in and out of the cinema?” After months of government-sanctioned closure, Fortin and the team at Cinéma du Parc are now focused on how to move forward. “It was a learning period for those past seven months. Now we are ready to face all scenarios, because it’s going to be like this for many months ahead of us. All we want is to reopen.”
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The General Director of the independent cinema concluded the interview with something that veered from the traditional format. Rather than answering more of our questions, he paused and instead flipped the script to pose some questions himself. “We have some discounts for students. We have various discounts. Price is not an object. We put films later in the night, earlier in the morning. What do you want from us? How can we help you see more films, to fill your need to live experiences in the cinema?” What McGill Students Can Do to Support The City’s Independent Cinema Scene Although students may not be able to attend screenings again for a while, Fortin remains positive as to the ways the McGill community can support the Cinéma. “You can go on our website and purchase gift certificates. It’s good for the cash flow, but it will never replace the amount of money … the business we have lost,” elaborated Fortin. “We don’t normally give numbers, but so far closing our three cinemas has been over a million and a half dollars of business that we have lost.”
port for local cinemas. “A film distributor in New York said, ‘Okay, we will do something for you … We will put something on our platform where your customers can purchase something to look at at home, and we will give you back a portion of your money.’” Students can utilize these events to both support the cinema and watch a movie in a more wholesome way.
“How can students give back to the Montreal independent cinema community during these uncharted times?” Fortin emphasized that following and sharing Cinéma du Parc’s posts on online platforms (like their Facebook page) is crucial to the cinema’s success upon reopening. “We kept in touch with our customers through our newsletter and
website.” Fortin explained that just by contributing “a little bit of money that you would use to see a film” now, you can ensure the continuation of the Cinéma once restrictions are eased. “It’s only a matter of keeping [in] touch with our customers. This would be another way for students from McGill to help us.” Looking Forward to the Not So Distant (Or Distanced) Future Cinéma du Parc is determined to come out of the COVID-19 pandemic stronger than ever, and Fortin maintains the necessity of human connection in a time when many are overwhelmed by the isolating social shift to the Internet. Once it becomes possible, Cinéma du Parc is dedicated to fostering community through shared emotional experiences. As Fortin puts it, “the feeling of being together will never be replaced by technology.” (Oh, and in case you were wondering what single factor makes the Cinéma du Parc popcorn so tasty? “Freshness,” revealed Mr. Fortin. He smiled, then he took a sip of whipped cream off his morning coffee.)
Additionally, Fortin and Cinéma du Parc are using online screenings to combine socially distant film viewing and sup-
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Build Your Own Instagram Comedy Festival by Hannah Kahn Glass
Welcome to Build Your Own Comedy Festival! What an amazing crowd we have here tonight! How’s everyone doing? Did I hear stressed? Anxious? Same! But hey, that’s why we’re here from the Bull & Bear to provide you with some laughs. Do you miss the feeling of sipping beer (with the highest alcohol content-to-price ratio, of course) at a bar on Saint-Laurent while watching amateur stand-up and praying they don’t bomb so you won’t suffer second-hand embarrassment? Or cracking up at McGill improv or a BYOJ sketch that your friend’s friend from Rez is in? Now, more than ever, we need live comedy. With a seemingly never-ending news cycle of tragedy, sometimes we have to take a step back and be silly together. This year, Montreal’s Just for Laughs Festival was virtual and free, giving us a taste of some top-notch comedy. Looking for some more laughs? Peruse this lineup of the best comedy acts on social media.
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Day 1: Punching Up Comedy Opening Act: Jordan Firstman (@jtfirstman) We’re opening the festival with a fan favourite: legendary impressionist Jordan Firstman. Jordan has skyrocketed to Instagram fame over quarantine with his eighteen “seasons” of groundbreaking, culturally relevant impressions. Firstman does it all, from hard-hitting political impressions such as the fly on Mike Pence’s head’s publicist to the straight guy in an argument, eliciting the memory of disgruntled boyfriends overheard in line at Cafe Campus. Firstman even graces us with the inner monologue of Montreal’s favourite seasonal celebrity: autumn leaves. If these outstanding impressions aren’t enough, check out his highlight reels of “secrets,” where people submit their deepest and darkest confessions for Firstman to riff off of, alleviating any shame while guaranteeing you some gasps and laughs. Headliner: Ziwe Fumudoh (@ziwef) Ziwe’s iconic Instagram live shows have been one of the best things to come out of quarantine, landing her a variety show to be produced by A24 for Showtime.
Based on her YouTube show Baited, Ziwe interviews guests bluntly, asking them questions about race like, “how many Black friends do you have?” to which most guests awkwardly stall, eventually answering “four to five.” With her quick witty comments, fabulous outfits, and top-notch catalogue of facial expressions, Ziwe will make you laugh – sometimes at yourself. More importantly, Ziwe’s show reveals how much anti-racism work still needs to be done, especially in an era where activism can seem like it starts and ends with an Instagram story. Ziwe’s shows are live, but you can watch all the recorded ones on her channel and make sure to check out her new single Make it Clap for Democracy, the voting anthem all Americans need. Day 2: Dramedy Opening Act: Benito Skinner (@bennydrama7) Let’s start this day off strong with some sketches by Benito Skinner (@bennydrama7). Benny’s wide array of characters can take you out of our current horror movie reality and make you feel like you’re on a hiking date with Canada’s Shawn Mendes, hanging with McGill’s own Grimes, or cramming for finals in a “real-life” university library. Benny will take you into his world with impeccable acting, joke delivery, and wardrobe, as well as a wig collection that would make Moira Rose quake. You can find more of his hysterical sketches on Instagram and Youtube.
ARTS & CULTURE
Headliner: Cat Cohen (@catccohen) Now that we are all warmed up with giggles, it is time to welcome the Queen of the New York City comedy scene, Cat Cohen. Over quarantine, Cat has brought her dazzling musical comedy show Cabernet Cabaret to the hottest venue in town: Instagram live. Adorned in a bedazzled dress, Cat dances around her apartment drinking a martini as guests pour in to hear her hilariously relatable songs and jokes which recount her millennial life, which now mostly consist of glamorously sleeping until noon and undergoing Zoom therapy. Her live shows are now being streamed bi-weekly by the famous East Village gay bar and nightclub, Club Cumming, with a stacked lineup of special guests. Day 3: Good-old-fashioned-fun Opening act: Minor Motion Pictures (@jefferyself) For our last opener, we’ll head to the cinema for Minor Motion Pictures. Creator
Jeffery Self will take us back to the golden era of Hollywood with his ten-minute masterpieces. The films star the best in showbiz, shot from their own homes with whimsical illustrations filling the place of Hollywood sets. Jeffery Self brings us motion pictures of all genres, so you can have your pick! In the mood for a crime film noir? Check out The Barbara Collins Story. Musical comedy? Laugh your heart out to Silly Girl. Western? Tune into Johnny Couture. You can even carve out half an hour for a triple feature event! Headliner: The Pit Improv (@thepitimprov) Let’s finish this festival with something strong, but also close to our hearts: McGill’s very own Pit Improv. There’s nothing cozier than gathering on the couches in the McConnell basement for some high-quality improv. Thankfully, the Pit is bringing us the cozy comedy we need right now with their Zoom improv shows.
It’s great to watch comedy from the famous Instagrammers of the world, but sometimes the best talent is in our own backyard. Like The Pit on Facebook for info on their upcoming shows, where you can gather with McGill students to laugh and chat in the comments section. * What a fantastic festival! A truly perfect lineup! I hope you laughed your way through––or at least smiled to yourself once or twice. This year has been bleak, and sometimes it feels wrong to laugh when there is suffering all around us. Comedy is a powerful tool to help us cope with the intensity of our world, look at situations in a new light, and escape into the joyousness only laughter can bring. It can be hard, but allowing yourself to smile and laugh is healing. One day we’ll all be able to laugh in the same room, but for now, let’s “lol” in the comments section together.
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ARTS & CULTURE
In the world of theatre, there is a saying that goes, “The show must go on!” But what do you do when you’re stuck in the middle of a pandemic where the only way most of us can see a show is through our laptops? Montreal students and theatre professionals alike are left asking themselves this question as we enter an uncharted and uncertain time in theatre history. Between waves of the coronavirus, it seemed as though Montreal’s theatre scene had found a moment of respite. As the weather warmed in the summer, case numbers dropped and restrictions loosened. Many Montreal theatres jumped on the opportunity to share and create safe in-person performances for audiences. Centaur Theatre in Old Port spent the summer preparing for the fall theatre season by creating The Portico Project, a series of short plays presented outside of their historic theatre located in 28
the Old Stock Exchange building. They opened on September 24 but were forced to shut down in the middle of their run due to the province’s announcement that Quebec would return to the red zone.
“Theatre is not dead and it’s not going to die.” Professor Erin Hurley of the English Department at McGill and Anaïs Lépine-Lopez, president of the Quebec Studies Student Association at McGill, hosted a virtual roundtable discussion with artistic directors of Montreal theatres. In it, Eda Holmes, artistic director of Centaur Theatre, shared her thoughts on the current theatre scene in Montreal and the struggles creators are facing. She said, “each time you come up with an idea and think this will be the thing we do for
now, it changes, and it changes again.” Jean-Simon Traversy, artistic director of Duceppe, and Quincy Armorer, artistic director of Black Theatre Workshop, were also helming shows impacted by the implementation of the red zone. Armorer said that having to postpone what they were planning for the Grande Acts of Theatre Initiative felt like “being kicked while you’re down.” Concordia performance creation student Patrick Dale also feels the limits of theatre in the pandemic. Before the virus hit, the third-year student was supposed to direct and choreograph the Arts Undergraduate Theatre Society’s (AUTS) 15th annual musical production at McGill. For those unfamiliar, the AUTS is a student-led organization that mounts a high-calibre musical each winter term in McGill’s Moyse Hall. The productions are open to university students across Montreal, so the AUTS always attracts a large cast, crew, band, and of course,
ARTS & CULTURE
Keeping Montreal’s Theatre Scene Alive in the Age of Cancelled Shows and Zoom Musicals by Arly Abramson
audience from various schools in the city. The plans for this year’s production of A Chorus Line were just getting started when the pandemic made the future of the coming school year uncertain. Protocols on McGill extracurriculars were vague and Dale said “we were in the dark.” AUTS was helpful in giving as much guidance and support as possible. After a summer of careful planning, AUTS felt prepared for the worst, but at a production meeting halfway through September, it became clear that with growing numbers of COVID-19 cases on campus, “there were more concerns and problems than viable solutions.” Dale said they weighed the options of switching to a smaller musical, but with all of the costs to put up a show, and the known risk that they could have to cancel it in the future, the best choice for them was to cancel A Chorus Line. Dale expressed that one of the hardest things about cancelling the show was the loss of the creative outlet and community that doing theatre on campus provides for students. McGill lacks a fine arts program, so extracurricular opportunities like AUTS are often the only organized way for students to pursue their artistic passions on campus. Likewise, the McGill English Department’s theatre studies program, the only academic program in which McGill students can study acting and directing, is struggling with the fact that none of their productions have been approved for live performances. Professor Myrna Wyatt Selkirk shared that they’re
doing their best to modify their classes for Zoom and trying to get social distanced in-person classes approved, but it’s been challenging to bring the practical elements of the program back for students. The AUTS and other student organizations alike are brainstorming ways to engage students online. For example, Players’ Theatre was able to broadcast
nity to “rethink what it means to make a piece of theatre.” Without the commercial aspects of making theatre that formerly overwhelmed the process, she says theatres are now “[engaging] with the idea that there are voices missing from this conversation and missing from the stage. A chance to build a platform for those voices is an opportunity that we have to take advantage of.”
“Theatre is constantly changing, and now is the time to harness our creativity to ensure that theatre thrives, no matter what restrictions befall the industry.” two plays over Zoom at the end of October. Both plays were originally supposed to be performed live outdoors. For Dale, the challenge will be creating opportunities that fit their brand and appeal to their audiences. Holmes further emphasized the importance of remaining connected to their roots as theatres, especially the aspects of being live and not pre-controlled by editing. But for everyone, the reality that it may be the only option is coming to the forefront of their discussions about how to move forward.
At the end of the roundtable, all four artistic directors agreed upon the idea that young people are the future of theatre right now. Their message to us young people? Don’t stop. It is in the hands of youth to continue believing in theatre and committing ourselves, and our knowledge of technology, to the theatre they want to see in the future. Theatre is constantly changing, and now is the time to harness our creativity to ensure that theatre thrives, no matter what restrictions befall the industry.
Yet despite the lost jobs, the cancelled shows, and the empty audiences, the pandemic has also brought some positive changes to Montreal’s theatre scene. Holmes sees this as an opportu-
As Armormer said, “theatre is not dead and it’s not going to die.” Yet, the industry’s survival depends on if we will “be the wonderful community that we are and hold each other and lift each other.” 29
ARTS & CULTURE
Greek Life at McGill, by Sophia Quinn
The majority of our lives are spent in front of a screen, especially given the current circumstances. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, classes, clubs, and socialization with friends have all moved online. For students, the typical university experiences of meeting people on campus, going out with friends, and attending parties have essentially disappeared from our everyday lives. So, what now? Where does this part of social culture, and all the corresponding
energy we put toward it as university students, go? When we are all collectively experiencing a sense of disappointment about how this year’s turned out, is there any space for us to channel this feeling into new connections, or to re-create what we’ve lost in some form? McGill’s fraternities and sororities are built upon the premise of networking, parties, and, at the base of it all, connecting with other people. All these factors become a challenge with physical distancing measures. It’s a struggle to get creative within our “new normal,” but many McGill groups have been adapting and re-imagining what it means to stay connected within the student community. Since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, McGill’s Greek Life communities have been faced with the unique challenge of recruiting and engaging their members over Zoom. Sororities and fraternities have been trying to make it work for new and returning members alike, and there are students like us behind this effort: an effort that can inspire each of us in our own participation in McGill’s student culture. Normally, McGill students gravitate towards Greek life in the hopes of meeting more people and making connections. For Sigma Chi president Matt O’Connell, a major factor in his decision to rush the fraternity was the fact that both of his frosh leaders were part of the chapter. He had been prompted to join the fraternity in frosh, another McGill social event that could not be held
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in person this year. Similarly, Rachel Feldburg, a U3 year student and member of the Gamma Phi sorority, joined in the winter of her first year after befriending some older girls in the sorority.
“Where does this part of social culture, and all the corresponding energy we put toward it as university students, go?” For these two, and many others, the appeal of Greek life was the possibility of expanding their social network and making new friends in their respective fraternity or sorority. The beginning of this experience — sometimes referred to as rushing or pledging — is often the most important part. The start of the semester ordinarily means initiation, mixers, and bonding with first-year recruits, the promise of partying with newfound friends and reveling in the return to student culture. This semester, however, fraternities and sororities have been forced to adapt to rapidly changing restrictions and get creative with Greek life… from a distance. For O’Connell, these last few months involved constant readjustment of the typical Sigma Chi experience to adhere to the government of Quebec’s regulations. Before the implementation of red zone restrictions, the fraternity had planned to do recruitment half online and half socially distanced in the park. However, the sudden announcement of the red zone restrictions meant that this year’s recruits would not have a “normal rush, but instead, everything [would be] on Zoom”, according to O’Connell.
ARTS & CULTURE
From a Distance The older McGill students in Greek life can’t help but feel bad for the new recruits, who “don’t get to meet as many people” and face a far more difficult challenge when it comes to meeting many of the interesting people that make up the student body. One-on-one Zooms, designed to enable conversation and connection, begin to feel like formal, awkward interviews, especially when our hours in front of the screen already feel maxed out. Before the pandemic, Feldberg would go on retreats with her sorority that fostered new relationships and bonding among its members. Nowadays, these social events have moved to Zoom. Mixers, once a place to have fun and party, are now eighty-person video-calls, where people take turns speaking over one another by accident, or sometimes simply do not know where to begin.
“Mixers, once a place to have fun and party, are now eighty-person video-calls, where people take turns speaking over one another by accident, or sometimes simply do not know where to begin.” Without roommates also in the sorority, which would make the feeling of being a part of Gamma Phi much more real, Feldberg is finding it difficult to get involved. Distanced social-life as a university student frankly sucks for everyone, first and fourth years alike, but the
effort and the attempt at getting creative and connecting people is meaningful.
engaged, how are [they] going to keep the first [through] third years invested?”
“When we have no idea how long this “new normal” will last, and what student culture will look like at the end of this all, the act of caring and trying, despite all that is happening right now, is a new kind of difficult.”
It’s up to us, in whatever way we can, to seek out creative ways to recreate the feeling of student culture that we all desperately miss. And when we feel the return of the exhaustion and despair, we have to push ourselves to remain receptive to other students reaching out to us. When we have no idea how long this “new normal” will last, and what student culture will look like at the end of this all, the act of caring and trying, despite all that is happening right now, is a new kind of difficult. And yet, even if it’s as simple as joining a Zoom organized by a fellow classmate every once in a while, the effort of re-engaging in our socially distanced student culture may be far more important than we think.
Distanced Greek life, though it may pale in comparison to what that element of student culture used to be like, is the manifestation of caring for our peers. It may appear shallow, but this act of trying to include others and make it work, despite how incredibly bleak and exhausting the act may feel amidst it all, matters. For O’Connell, when the “majority of recruits are young and missed out on Frosh, and other social aspects of the first few weeks of school,” asking “how to give them a similar experience,” one that tries to pass along the fun student culture, or, at least, a hope for its return, is valuable. With no events, mixers, or philanthropy, members of McGill’s Greek community are challenged to remain engaged, and if people like O’Connell “can’t keep these fourth years
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BUSINESS & TECH
The Certainty of CERB: Declut
by Youcef Sahnoune & Rohan Roychoudhury
When the world economy began to quickly crumble in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the Canadian government stepped up to the challenge for its people. Throughout the summer, the CERB (Canada Emergency Response Benefit) gave seemingly handsome financial benefits to those who were impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, which was then followed up by other initiatives which sought to help critically impacted students, namely the Canada Emergency Student Benefit (CESB). The aid process began with an urgent level of communication between the federal Finance Department and senior Canadian Revenue Agency (CRA) officials to find out if the agency would be able to deliver some sort of emergency benefit program. The scramble took three weeks and included the hunt for an efficient payment mechanism and the writing and implementation of the necessary legislation. A process that would have normally taken a year or more of planning and meeting was pared down to the bare necessities, with the CRA’s Director General Silvano Tocchi spearheading operations alongside the Finance Department and other Canadian bureaucracies. By the time systems were ready and emergency funds were prepared, the terms were relatively simple. If COVID-19 had disrupted your employment status, you were eligible to receive $2000 per month by submitting an application which had to be renewed every month. There is no doubt that Canadians struggled to cope economically with the unprecedented situation of the pandemic, as close to 28 million applications have been processed for government aid. But what exactly was the thought process behind 32
how these programs were implemented, and where might they go from here? To answer some of these questions, the Bull & Bear had the opportunity to speak with Nobina Robinson, Chair of the Board of Higher Education Quality Council of Ontario, and Senior Fellow at the C.D. Howe Institute. Robinson was instrumental in urging the federal government to establish the Canada Apprentice Loan program and served as a member of the Expert Panel on the Review of Federal Support to Research and Development. Her expertise in government policy, as well as in lobbying and Canadian academic relations, helped to clarify some of the most important aspects of these recently implemented aid programs.
Canadians weren’t working. With one million Canadians losing their jobs in March, Trudeau’s government was forced to move as fast as possible. “Typically, our tax system is designed to take money from the taxpayer, rather than give money out,” Robinson explains. “One of the reasons CERB was administered was because employment insurance couldn’t handle the volume and speed of delivery required for the pandemic.” Robinson outlines an important point
here: Canadians weren’t working. With one million Canadians losing their jobs in March, Trudeau’s government was forced to move as fast as possible. This involved making concessions for Conservative gripes with the bill (increasing restrictions and complications around CERB), and pulling only as much money as necessary. In an unprecedented move by the Canadian Revenue Agency (CRA), an estimated $17.9 billion dollars were dispersed across the 6 months following COVID-19’s onset, lessening the econom-
BUSINESS & TECH
ttering Canada’s Aid Programs ble, Robinson discussed how CERB set a precedent for more aid going forward, stating that once the government had implemented CERB, “it became easier enough for the CRA to say, ‘Okay, we can take care of students this way, too.’” As a result, thousands of students across Canada who couldn’t find work, had lost internships, or simply fell on hard times gained the monthly support of $1,250 from Trudeau’s government.
A process that would have normally taken a year or more of planning and meeting was pared down to the bare necessities.
ic blow to both businesses and families. With Canada’s widespread shutdown, Trudeau was met with yet another challenge: supporting the foundation of Canada’s future. With 57 percent of post-secondary students reporting that their academic work placements or courses were either delayed or cancelled for the summer term, it was adding up to be an unbelievably expensive summer for the government. While many anticipated that a student aid program was infeasi-
While, for several months, Canadians were able to fall back on the funding that the CRA and Government of Canada provided in emergency response benefits, our friends south of the border did not seem to be as fortunate. When the Bull & Bear asked Robinson why this difference between Canada and the United States was so blatant, the answer came down to bureaucracy. “Legislation stalls on the Senate Floor, or due to Presidential Veto, which are kinds of responses we don’t have in our Canadian system,” Robinson said. “I think some return to stimulus spending will be seen once we are well past the confusion of the election time.” The disparity between Canadian and American econom-
ics didn’t fail to raise eyebrows on both sides of the border, which then creates questions regarding the coming status of not only each country’s benefit programs, but their political economies as a whole. Regarding the future of these Canadian aid systems, Robinson referred to a recent speech by the Minister of Finance, who acknowledged that “fighting the coronavirus isn’t cheap.” While, like any country, fostering economic growth while also protecting the status of the people is important, it was made clear by Robinson that now is not the time for austerity, or any kind of scaling back. Robinson mentioned that as far as the government is concerned, the pandemic is far from over, and economic lockdown is not a distant memory: “[Economic] growth should happen,” she noted, “but at the moment, regardless of the industry, the only way growth will happen is by subsidy.” It seems apparent that the current focus strays farther from a growth agenda and closer towards a well-being agenda – one which prioritizes the health, safety, and comfort of the Canadian people. As a result, one can expect there to be more relief-driven programs over the next year instead of economic stimulus programs. Whether or not these programs will include students though, remains unclear. When push came to shove, the Canadian government proved to its people that aid was ready; grocery and electricity bills that wouldn’t pay themselves suddenly became less problematic for those who felt battered by the effects of the pandemic. Moving forward, the biggest question that arises is how much Trudeau’s government has left in the tank. 33
BUSINESS & TECH
Opiano: A Student Favourite by Sean Kim
Imagine a house of cards – delicate, complicated, and fleeting, each piece adding its own value, so integral that one mistake could make the house collapse. Oftentimes, analysts consider the economy as a house of cards, wherein each card represents a different sector, product, or offering. When COVID-19 interrupted our lives, however, these economic connections were altered in an unprecedented way, which, without collective effort, could become permanent. One relationship that has been strained is that between the business and consumer. Small businesses, which rely heavily on foot traffic as well as consumers who like to go outside their comfort zone, are struggling to stay afloat because people can no longer go out to explore their options. Faced with the fear of contagion and social distancing measures, people either stay at home exclusively (which is possible for some, 34
given the existence of Amazon and food delivery platforms), or they stick to the tried-and-true brands when they do go out to shop. In big cities like Montreal and Toronto, the restaurant industry has suffered dearly. It’s not just that these businesses are having trouble; many have been forced to close their doors permanently. There have been more than 20 notable restaurant closures in Montreal since the beginning of the pandemic, according to Time Out magazine, and that isn’t even accounting for the countless informal restaurants that have closed down across the city. It truly has been a difficult year for a city like Montreal, known for its vibrant food scene, and the outlook seems bleak. However, small businesses are not ready to give up yet, the likes of which include the student favourite Korean restaurant beside the Bronfman building, Opiano.
To give a brief background, Opiano is located in the basement of the apartment building across from the Bronfman building on Peel Street. Opened in 2012, it has garnered an impressive following of McGill students who eat there on a regular basis for the great food and its atmosphere that is somehow professional and cozy at the same time. It is an open cafeteria-style location that offers a variety of menu items, including to-go bento boxes, Korean snacks, and a signature dish called bbyeo haejangguk. In an online interview with the owner, Ko Sangchul, I asked him what he found to be the hardest part about operating during this crisis. Sangchul told me, “the hardest part was probably the fact that I had to let go of so many employees, all of whom played such an important role in our success so far.” This is the reality of the situation for most small businesses during this time. COVID-19 created a situation
BUSINESS & TECH
e Struggles to Stay Afloat
in which business owners could not reasonably keep many of their employees, even if they wanted to, and this blow was even heavier for food service businesses that rely heavily on the contribution of employees. Our conversation mostly revolved around COVID-19 and how it has affected Opiano, but there was also another point that Mr. Sangchul constantly alluded to. I asked him what he thinks makes Opiano popular in the Korean community, he corrected me, mentioning that “Opiano is not as well-known in the Korean community as you think, there are still a lot of people who don’t know who we are. Our success and growth up to this point is directly linked to the students at McGill University, especially those who promoted our restaurant in the early days, and for that we are truly grateful.” Sangchul fully recognizes that his business is dependent on students and his business model revolves around catering to those students’ needs. He hopes that
“Opiano can live on in the memories of the many McGill students that pass by here,” just as he remembers the restaurants near campus that he frequented when he was an undergrad himself. Opiano is dedicated to its mission, despite the setbacks that have come with the year 2020, and Sangchul promises that Opiano will still be here for students after the pandemic is over. This kind of one-to-one relationship is the reason why small businesses can succeed. Sadly, that relationship was almost severed because of COVID-19. The house of cards has come falling down, and we are left with fragmented groups of people and businesses that don’t know what to do next. However, restaurants like Opiano show us that we need to embrace our interdependence, especially in difficult times like this. It’s time we as consumers recognize our dependence on small businesses as well and band together to help them get through this crisis. 35
BUSINESS & TECH
How COVID-19 Accelerated a New Frontier of Data Analytics and Business Intelligence by Ramsey Sharara
The year 2020 will forever be known as the year of COVID-19. The virus disrupted people’s lives in ways never envisioned and also claimed over a million lives. But amidst this tragedy, one positive development is that the pandemic has forced individuals, corporations, and governments to become much more adept at analyzing data to make informed decisions. Most individuals, if asked, could tell you how many new COVID-19 cases were confirmed in their city, province, state, or country in the past 24 hours. They could likely even compare a given day’s case count to that of the previous day and identify trends in the evolution of the virus, a process similar to what a data analyst would do when data mining. The main purpose of checking the number of cases in one’s region is to make informed decisions. If you see that COVID-19 cases are trending upwards, you might decide to cancel your weekend plans, or you might stock up on food as you anticipate another lockdown. On the other hand, if cases are going down, you may choose to gather with a few friends (with social distancing, of course). Ultimately, people are looking at data and interpreting it to make decisions at an unprecedented rate.
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In the early days of the pandemic, McGill University launched a student-run initiative called COVID-QC, led by Professor Juan Serpa. COVID-QC provides approximate real-time information about case counts in different parts of Quebec, as well as graphs depicting the evolution of cases, deaths, and recovery numbers. Such an initiative not only shows that individuals have become more comfortable with manipulating and organizing data, but it also helps others make informed decisions by providing them with user-friendly dashboards. Corporations have been forced to make huge adjustments to their operations, and while some companies like Amazon and Zoom have benefited from lockdowns, most businesses have found themselves in precarious situations. Just like individuals, companies have made extensive use of data since the start of the pandemic. According to a survey from Sisense, 50 percent of companies are using data analytics “more or much more” than before the pandemic, including over 68 percent of small businesses. The survey found that business intelligence applications are often used in customer relationship management (CRM). For example, a major challenge of the COVID-19 pandemic is ensuring that clients feel safe when visiting brick-
and-mortar stores. Thanks to business intelligence tools, CRM systems, and social networking platforms, companies can obtain direct feedback from their customers and put measures in place to guarantee the health and safety of everyone. Business intelligence tools, such as decision support systems (DSS), have also allowed companies to produce sales forecasts and stress-tests, which are especially useful for assessing a company’s ability to operate under challenging economic scenarios.
“Governments are also using data extensively as the crisis continues, providing daily updates to the public about the state of COVID-19.” Using DSS, companies can perform sensitivity analyses to evaluate the impacts that external variables, such as a possible lockdown or employee sickness, have on their operations. A podcast by McKinsey
BUSINESS & TECH
& Company revealed the importance of financial stress-testing, or scenario-based forecasting, to provide “much-needed clarity� for businesses struggling to cope with the pandemic conditions. According to Deloitte, companies that favour data-driven decision-making are more likely to successfully manage the crisis and to recover faster than businesses who do not make use of data analytics, as data-driven organizations manage core business operations in the most cost-effective way. Governments are also using data extensively as the crisis continues, providing daily updates to the public about the state of COVID-19. When governments make decisions regarding the implementation or removal of lockdown restrictions,
they do so by analyzing data and measuring ratios such as the R-number (rate of spread) or the number of infections per one million inhabitants. The most noticeable use of data by some governments is perhaps the development of contact tracing applications, which alert individuals when they are in proximity to someone who has tested positive for COVID-19. The government of Canada recently launched its own COVID-19 contact tracing app, COVID Alert, which has been downloaded over five million times so far across eight provinces. Other applications of data analytics in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic include technology companies assisting governments and corporations. An example is
Salesforce, a cloud-based software company, which provides free tools to help emergency response teams, as well as safe return-to-work strategies for companies. There is nothing like a pandemic to make us realize just how impactful data-based decision making is for everyone. In an increasingly complex decision-making environment, sophisticated tools and frameworks for decision making are crucial for individuals to make wise choices, for companies to perform in the marketplace, and for governments to be effective when delivering information and services to the public. We might never master the science of decision-making, but one thing is for certain: we are getting better at it. 37
BUSINESS & TECH
“Too Big to Fail”—a term often mentioned in the context of financial crises, has once again been brought to mind while evaluating the current outlook on the financial industry. With the demise of Lehman Brothers and Bear Stearns in 2008, I was curious about which institutions could potentially contradict the belief that an organization is, indeed, too big to fail once again. To my surprise, banks are not failing this time, but flourishing. With extensive fiscal policies during the pandemic seeking to encourage lending activities, the CET1 ratios (Tier 1 Ratio), a capital requirement metric used for financial institutions, have been closely monitored by the Feds through stress testing. Many were worried that the banks’ capital ratios would continue to decrease due to bad debt and loan expenses, eliminating the buffer effect banks maintain. This would induce additional gaps to meet further CET1 Ratio Requirements, putting the banks’ recuperation ability to the ultimate test. However, financial institutions have been mostly well-positioned in their health and have been able to overcome these short-term hurdles by leveraging their core businesses and focusing on strategic planning. Goldman Sachs (GS) is a prime example.
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When the Fed conducted a stress test in June, it was one of the only banks that ran at a shortfall of the new capital rules. While cutting dividends and refraining from shareholder buybacks seems to be the best way to alleviate existing strain, Goldman Sachs instead amplified its shareholder activities. Goldman Sachs CEO David Solomon commented that GS had “a track record of rebuilding capital when necessary,” voicing confidence in the bank’s strength in resisting economic downturns. When the time came, the 150-year-old bank once again proved its resilience. It brought its ratio back to 14.5 percent at
the end of Q3, combined with $3.6 billion in net profits to crush Wall Street’s earning estimate. JP Morgan, Citi, and UBS were all among the A-team. What contributed to those major bouncebacks? One of the most utilized strategies involves cost-cutting initiatives. Some of the solutions include business integration, digitization, divestiture, and even labour cutting and layoffs. Deutsche Bank, for instance, has been proposing a solution even prior to the pandemic, including an employee-slashing plan and potential Retail Branch and IT-Department closedowns. Credit Suisse, on the other hand, seeks to merge its trading and investment
BUSINESS & TECH
banking division, hoping to synergize its core businesses and bring down unnecessary barriers that prevent revenue maximization. A variety of restructuring efforts hint at the adaptability of financial institutions to the pandemic and signals their strength. What’s more, investors may also look beyond the banks’ defensive mechanisms and focus on the lifelines and earning landscapes, in which performance and fee-based managements and trades are of particular significance. One of the key ingredients of this recipe lies in the Global Markets and Asset
Management Division. For GS, it consists of 68 percent of its business, but represented a whopping 73.2 percent of revenue in the third quarter. Within these distinctive divisions, equity trading and investments stand out. With a simulated stock market recovery, GS benefited from a public equities surge and implied volatility ahead of election. Debt, on the other hand, benefited from tighter GMBS yield and corporate credit spread, leading to a boost in bond trading and FICC product revenues. GS was able to effectively overshadow its provision for credit losses and operating expenses with these operations. Many other US banks reported similar feats.
The Resilience and Adaptivity of Banking
in the Pandemic
On the other, largely ignored, side is the importance of private or consumer banking businesses which is utterly a win or lose situation, depending on the client landscape and geographical focus. For instance, UBS’s Wealth Management has most of its market share in North America, thus is resistant to currency fluctuations. On the other hand, Credit Suisse has been posting losses due to its global client focus. A depressed dollar in a low-interest rate setting might be great for domestic lendings, but difficult for foreign transactions; increased commission and associated fees could halt the potential upside. Hence, the short-term triumph or earnings miss of banks is not a single factor game. Investors will have to assess the strength of each institution by understanding the focus of their businesses distinctively. If the bank does well enough in their specialty or refines a new mastery during the pandemic, it is likely to secure its reign, stay afloat, and even elevate its position amongst its peers. Luckily, we are seeing a collectively innovative, immune, and fast-adapting industry in the current state of the world.
by Jason Wang
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BUSINESS & TECH
Struggles in the Sports World: How the Pandemic has Changed the Game by Josh Holtzman
When Utah Jazz star Rudy Gobert tested positive for COVID-19 back in March, the entire world of sports screeched to a halt. Games were cancelled, leagues were shut down, and players sent home. Fortunately for us sports fans, by mid-summer, most professional sports leagues had developed a plan to restart league play and conclude their respective seasons. Each league instituted their own unique plan. The NHL, NBA and MLS formed “bubbles”—sites at which all teams would convene, living and playing in a select few venues, and protected from the outside world—whereas the MLB, NFL and major European soccer leagues decided to allow their teams to travel, and play games in stadiums at zero capacity or reduced capacity.
“...the widespread notion that the “sports world” is managing the pandemic well... is only true for a select few elite leagues and their players.” For us avid sports fans and even the average ones, the reintroduction of sports into daily life did wonders for our mental health. With so much going on in the world, pandemic-wise and otherwise, being able to enjoy professional sports again was a godsend. 40
Yet, as dominant sports leagues resumed and those athletes returned to their gyms, stadiums and arenas to conclude their seasons, a much larger number of athletes were not as fortunate. Because of the way that a select few professional leagues dominate media discourse, we tend to think of the “sports world” only in the context of a small number of leagues across a small number of sports. As such, we tend to ignore the thousands of athletes, both professional and amateur, who weren’t able to resume play this past summer, and possibly might not get that opportunity for a while.
While the NBA and NHL, for example, earn billions of dollars each year in revenue, and pay their athletes multimillion dollar salaries, they do not represent the broader world of sports, despite what primetime television slots and Twitter discourse would have you think. Restarting was simply unaffordable for the vast majority of leagues, who rely on game day revenue—mainly ticket sales and concessions—as well as paying measly salaries in order to remain financially afloat. Without million dollar TV deals to fall back on, losing game day revenue
BUSINESS & TECH
was simply a hurdle too large to overcome. That is without counting the enormous additional costs of daily testing, PPE, and enhanced cleaning measures that are necessary to run a sports league in this environment, which only the highest earning leagues are able to afford.
“...we tend to ignore the thousands of athletes, both professional and amateur, who weren’t able to resume play this past summer.” Now I know that in the midst of a global pandemic, watching the NBA and NHL resume this past summer was a great escape from the COVID-19 drama that continues to dominate our daily lives. That being said, the widespread notion that the “sports world” is managing the pandemic well, or, dare I say, thriving given the circumstances, is only true for a select few elite leagues and their players.
$26,000 per year (only the top earners), and more often than not earned salaries much closer to $10,000, were also hit hard by the league cancellation. Many professional women’s hockey players have been known to work two jobs, as the typical salary from a women’s professional league alone is not sufficient. Needless to say that the cancelled season had a tremendous financial impact on these players. The archetype of an athlete isn’t LeBron James, or Sidney Crosby, it is more accurately the minor league pitcher who needs every pitching opportunity he can to be noticed by a scout. It is the small-school senior quarterback who may have lost his last chance to get drafted because his pro day was cancelled. It is the highly-touted point guard who lost her opportunity for national exposure when the NCAA cancelled its March Madness tournaments. It is also every single Stanford athlete that
plays any one of the eleven sports that were cut from Stanford’s athletic program due to pandemic-related lost revenue. The point is not to not enjoy the sports that are still happening, on the contrary, we should enjoy them and feel grateful that there are some sports that we are still able to watch. But, we also must remember that the world of sports is much larger than the four major North American leagues, European soccer and a few tennis stars. So, next time you turn on the TV to watch a game, know that that does not represent the majority of sports-affiliated jobs, and that those people, affiliated with less-than-billion-dollar-revenue leagues, need continued support during the pandemic, so that hopefully, when the time comes for that first game day back, when stadiums can be filled and beer can be sold, there will still be a game left to be played.
To give you a glimpse of the other side of sports, the side hidden from the mainstream and firmly out of the spotlight, let’s take a look at the CFL. During the summer, the CFL applied for a $30 million loan from the Government of Canada to finance a league restart, but that request was rejected, and the CFL cancelled their season, leaving every single player, coach, training staff, medical staff, equipment manager, and stadium worker out of a job. It remains to be seen how the CFL will tackle the challenges of holding a 2021 season, and what that means for the players and the league’s future. In another instance, NWHL players, who in the best of times never made more than
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Photo credit: Drake Wong
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