Issue 9, November 12, 2024

Indigenous Issue

T HE V

T HE VA RSI T Y

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The Varsity acknowledges that our office is built on the traditional territory of several First Nations, including the Huron-Wendat, the Petun First Nations, the Seneca, and most recently, the Mississaugas of the Credit. Journalists have historically harmed Indigenous communities by overlooking their stories, contributing to stereotypes, and telling their stories without their input. Therefore, we make this acknowledgement as a starting point for our responsibility to tell those stories more accurately, critically, and in accordance with the wishes of Indigenous Peoples.

General content warning:

This issue of The Varsity will discuss anti-Indigenous racism, residential schools, raceand gender-based systemic violence, and will mention suicide, murder, death, genocide, substance use, forced sterilization, and forced pregnancy.

MJ Singleton Varsity Contributor

Cover MJ Singleton :

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Check out the themed content in this issue by looking for this bookmark!

Letter from the cover artist

My life has changed drastically in the past year and a half.

I found that once I started to involve myself more with my Indigenous community here on campus, I began feeling a true sense of purpose in the work I’ve been doing. As an Indigenous person, it is so important to use my voice to highlight the issues and experiences that Indigenous people still go through today. Recently, I have been fortunate enough to attend multiple events where I was able to use my voice to talk about what it means to reconcile. In order for institutions like U of T to be able to truly reconcile, there needs to be truth in regards to how the Canadian government played a part in assimilating us.

As I spend more time at UTSG, I realize the importance of holding the knowledge that has been passed down to me for generations.

Knowing that I have knowledge and teachings, ones that have been taught through oral traditions, gives me a sense of resilience. There are times when I feel overwhelmed in the city. Sometimes

I find myself missing the rez, wishing I was back home in northwestern Ontario. Thinking about my family that has passed on and my ancestors who have come before me gives me the strength to persevere through these overwhelming and uncomfortable feelings I have.

I wanted this piece to reflect that, and I think a lot of other Indigenous students on this campus can relate to this.

On one hand, we are walking through these institutions that have previously perpetuated a colonialist standard. It’s easy to feel small. However, it’s important that we embrace who we are on this campus and hold onto the knowledge that has been passed down for generations. It’s about being able to balance both your life as a university student, while also still being able to hold onto your knowledge passed down from generations.

This illustration reflects a First Nations student at UTSG. Seven generations of their ancestors are seen depicted in their hair. I was taught to keep my hair, as it is a way to connect us to our ancestors. I also wanted this piece to reference the previous work I’ve done for The Varsity.

Both of my covers for The Varsity’s volumes

“A sense of belonging”: A look at Indigenous spaces across UTSC UTSC renames four campus spaces, Indigenous House construction continues

Damola Omole Associate News Editor

UTSC has taken many steps to honour the legacies and influence of Indigenous people through several Indigenous spaces on campus. These spaces allow non-Indigenous members to learn from Indigenous U of T community members and to experience their culture, customs, and ways of being.

Indigenous Place-making

In December 2023, UTSC renamed four spaces on campus by translating them into Indigenous languages. The Management Wing Social Sciences

Building is now known as the Kina Wiiya Enadong Building; the Valley Land Trail is now called the Ma Moosh Ka Win Valley Trail; Scholar’s Walk is known as Ilinniaqtiup Aqqutinga; and the Rock Walk is now known as Tsi Yonenyakéhtó:Ten.

Each space is translated using different Indigenous languages: Kina Wiiya Enadong is Anishinaabemowin, meaning “Everyone Spirit Mind” in reference to the building’s ethos of representing the gift of multiple perspectives; Ma Moosh Ka Win is Mushkegowuk Cree, “meaning people coming together with the land for healing, restoration, to enjoy the environment, peace/water for healing;” Ilinniaqtiup Aqqutinga is Inuktitut, meaning “students who walk the path of education for their future to come;” and Tsi Yonenyakéhtó:Ten is Mohawk, meaning “the place where the rocks protrude.”

“These names were decided upon by our community, after going through a detailed process to ensure the chosen Indigenous names were encompassing of the spirit of these spaces,” said Kelly Crawford, assistant director of Indigenous initiatives at UTSC and member of M’Chigeeng

First Nation, in a UTSC News article. These spaces mark UTSC’s commitment to Indigenous Place-making, which the school describes as the “restoration of an Indigenous presence within the natural and built environment.”

“I trust that the use of Indigenous languagederived place names is intended to provide education about the truths of Canada’s land misappropriation at the expense of Indigenous nations and stimulate action to rectify the many ongoing and historic issues of this nature,” said Tahohtharátye (Joe Brant) in a UTSC News article. He is an assistant professor in U of T’s Department of Linguistics and the Centre for Indigenous Studies who was born, raised, and resides in Tyendinaga Mohawk Territory.

Students also had various responses to the news. In a message to The Varsity, Harry Xu — a third-year UTSC student in environmental science and media and communication studies — wrote that he feels frustrated with people who “don’t have much knowledge of the history of this land we live on.”

“I love to see efforts that empower native cultures and communities make a presence on my campus as a non-native person residing on Turtle Island.”

Indigenous Garden

In 2020, Assistant Professor Dani Kwan-Lafond initiated the Indigenous Garden at the UTSC Campus Farm with Isaac Crosby, a knowledge keeper, gardener, and Indigenous agriculture expert who identifies as Indigenous with Black ancestry. The Indigenous Garden offers sociology students opportunities to experience land-based, Indigenous, and experiential learning. The garden also provides workshops and learning spaces for student groups, class visits, and community members.

Tianna Tabobondung — a UTSC alumni and member of the Wasauksing First Nation — wrote to The Varsity about her personal experience with the garden.

“I had a truly wonderful experience at the UTSC farm, especially working alongside Béatrice Lego and Isaac [Crosby]. Learning directly from the land, in the heart of such a big city, was a powerful reminder of the deep connections we have with the earth, even in urban spaces like UTSC.”

Recently, students and faculty have shared concerns about the nonrenewal of the Campus Farm Coordinator Béatrice Lego’s contract. In a letter to the UTSC Principal, Vice-President, Academic, Dean, and Chief Administrative Officer, the UTSC community expressed concerns over the transparency surrounding Lego’s contract expiration and the future maintenance of the farm.

Indigenous House

Looking ahead, UTSC is currently underway in building its Indigenous House, a space that aims to bring Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities together to foster Indigenous knowledge, history, culture, and art. Construction began in 2021 and is scheduled to open in 2025. The house will be built by Centennial Circle.

“I hope it becomes a safe, welcoming environment where Indigenous students can gather, connect with one another, and find the support they need both academically and personally,” wrote Tabobondung. “For many students, having a dedicated space that reflects and honors their culture is essential — not just for healing, but for building community and a sense of belonging.”

She continued, “I envision the Indigenous house as a place where students can access resources, share knowledge, and engage with one another in ways that help them thrive in both their studies and their personal lives. It’s a space where they can reconnect with their cultural roots, deepen their understanding of their traditions, and find strength in the collective wisdom of their communities.”

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144 and 145 highlight the steps we as Indigenous people are taking to decolonize this university. I am so proud

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Indigenous community members at U of T reflect on finding community, support

Indigenous student, faculty member call for more initiatives, educational opportunities

Razia Saleh UTM Bureau Chief

According to U of T’s equity census, 0.7 per cent — or 653 students — across the university’s three campuses identified as Indigenous as of 2023. In interviews with The Varsity, Indigenous community members at U of T shared their experiences of finding community, support, and resources at the university.

Finding community

Third-year architectural studies student Julien Todd grew up in Lac La Biche — a Métis community in Alberta.

For Todd, moving to a big city like Toronto felt isolating, but he said, “It sort of helped me become more prideful of my identity, and I think this shows up in my academic work.”

“I’m strongly interested in more Indigenous issues and Indigenous learning [in] my work here, and it made me push myself to connect with my community,” he explained.

Jaris Swidrovich — an assistant professor in the Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy — is a member of the Yellow Quill First Nation (Treaty 4 territory) in Saskatchewan.

Swidrovich explained that the biggest challenge in moving to Toronto was not having direct family members here.

“It’s challenging being away from those supports, that familiarity, love, and just simple proximity, you know — something as [simple] as bring[ing] me a glass of water while I’m studying to [say] ‘let’s have dinner together,’” they explained.

However, like Todd, Swidrovich has found ways to connect with Indigenous communities through work and personal relationships.

“So within Indigenous research, a major principle is relationships and reciprocity,” Swidrovich explained, noting their involvement with 2-Spirited People of the 1st Nations, the 2-Spirit Pow Wow, and U of T’s First Nations House (FNH).

“I’m from Saskatoon, and there [are] folks who live here from Saskatoon who I’m great friends with, and I hang out with them and their families for events like Easter or Thanksgiving,” Swidrovich added. “So although they’re not officially my family, they’re certainly chosen family.”

Indigenous spaces on campus

When Todd first arrived at U of T, the first connection he made was at the FNH — a central hub offering programming, counselling, and academic support tailored to Indigenous students.

He explained that the Indigenous Student Orientation at the beginning of each year introduced Indigenous undergraduate and graduate students to one another and the facilities available on campus. For Todd, the early introductions and the consistent programming offered at FNH have been essential in helping him find a sense of belonging at U of T.

Hart House, another community space on the UTSG campus, also played a role in building connections. Todd described Hart House’s 30thanniversary gala organized by FNH, as “really

Indigenous studies graduate programs’ growing presence in Canadian academia

U of T’s Indigenous initiatives support future generations of Indigenous scholars and educators

Indigenous scholars in Canada have had limited o Indigenous scholars in Canada have had limited options in Indigenous studies at the graduate level. Today, there are 11 Indigenous studies graduate programs across the country — and the number is growing.

The Varsity spoke to several Indigenous professors at U of T about their experiences applying to graduate school and about the development of a new Indigenous studies graduate program at U of T.

Indigenous studies at the graduate level

Brenda Wastasecoot is a member of the York Factory Cree First Nation, born and raised in Churchill, Manitoba.

Wastasecoot moved to Toronto more than 10 years ago to pursue her PhD at the Ontario

Institute for Studies in Education. She is currently an assistant professor in the Centre for Indigenous Studies. “When I began seeking a graduate program back in 1998, there was not the availability we have today for Indigenous Studies,” she wrote in an email to The Varsity. “I can’t say exactly how many there were back then but today, there are so many more.”

Dale Turner is a citizen of the Temagami First Nation in northern Ontario. He is an associate professor in the Department of Political Science and Centre for Indigenous Studies, where he researches Indigenous politics, contemporary Indigenous culture, and contemporary political theory.

Like Wastasecoot, Turner faced constraints when applying to graduate school in 1992. Despite his interest in pursuing a PhD in Indigenous studies, there were no options available in Canada.

“I was considering Indigenous studies at the University of Buffalo at the time, but I chose

impactful” in “bridging, creating the community as a whole, not just students, but faculty and people outside the university as well.”

Todd’s involvement in the Indigenous Students Association (ISA), where he serves as co-president, has also been instrumental for him. Through ISA events and workshops, Todd has connected with other Indigenous students, meeting frequently to discuss Indigenous issues on campus and outside of U of T.

Room

for growth

Despite U of T’s ongoing initiatives to support Indigenous community members, Todd and Swidrovich see areas for growth.

Todd shared the importance of recognizing the territory that U of T’s campus is on — the traditional land of the Huron-Wendat, the Seneca, and the Mississaugas of the Credit — and continuing “Indigenous place making,” which he refers to as “making our presence recognized” on campus to ensure “a sense of belonging.”

He also observed that connecting with other Indigenous students at U of T can be challenging

philosophy [as a graduate program in Canada] because I did my [undergraduate studies] in philosophy,” he explained in an interview with The Varsity. “So the point to make here is that I didn’t have many options to do a PhD in Indigenous studies [in Canada]. So that’s why I chose philosophy.”

Over two decades later, options in Indigenous studies at the graduate level remain scarce.

In 2013, Tahohtharátye (Joe Brant) — who was born, raised, and resides in the Tyendinaga Mohawk Territory — applied to the University of Victoria’s Master’s degree in Indigenous language revitalization: the only such program in Canada and one of just two worldwide. By 2019, when he applied for a PhD in the same field, the University of Victoria still offered Canada’s sole doctoral program focused on Indigenous language revitalization.

He is currently an assistant professor in the Centre for Indigenous Studies and Department of Linguistics, where he specializes in Mohawk language learning and first-language speaker documentation.

In an email to The Varsity, Tahohtharátye wrote, “It is important that there are options for students to specialize in the particular field of their choice as it relates to Indigenous communities.”

Availability of Indigenous studies

Graduate programs in Indigenous studies are becoming increasingly available across Canadian universities, with a notable concentration in western provinces. Ontario also hosts several options, including programs at Trent, York, and Queen’s universities. Other institutions, such as First Nations University of Canada, University of Regina, and University of Northern British Columbia, offer specialized graduate programs focused on Indigenous education, social work, and community perspectives.

Wastasecoot emphasized the need for more Indigenous studies graduate programs. She

for some.

“I think it is very overwhelming for many, and in some cases, it can be easier to sort of retreat into yourself,” he explained. “But… I’ve noticed there’s always been a consistent drive to connect with others, and that’s why people show up to the First Nations House — to find people who are like them.”

Swidrovich noted that logistical barriers often limit students’ access to programs as well.

“Sometimes when people haven’t accessed such community building and support, it’s often because they find themselves too busy, or geographical proximity. [It’s] a challenge for people who have to commute quite a long way to come down for a coffee and chat session… To travel an hour and a half each way? That’s often a lot to ask people,” they explained.

“I think we’re doing great things,” Swidrovich added, noting U of T’s online meetings, tutoring, and cultural support programs to help Indigenous students connect remotely when in-person options are less feasible.

Indigenous perspectives in academia

At the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, and Design, where Todd studies, the integration of Indigenous perspectives has been a recent focal point.

In 2022, the faculty established an Elder Advisory Group. It is composed of Indigenous leaders who guide curriculum development and advise faculty members to include Indigenous knowledge in courses like JAV303H1 — Land, Relations, Truth and Reconciliation — which have been created in response to U of T’s 34 Calls to Action released by the school’s Truth and Reconciliation Steering Committee in 2017.

Todd recognizes the school’s positive steps but believes more initiatives are needed to expand Indigenous presence and education on campus.

Swidrovich is actively working to expand support for Indigenous students within the Leslie Dan Faculty of Pharmacy. They’ve secured funding from Ontario’s Postsecondary Education Fund for Aboriginal Learners to develop an Indigenous health certificate stream in the Doctor of Pharmacy program and regularly mentor Indigenous students in the faculty.

“We’re a small cohort, but we certainly are all connected,” Swidrovich noted.

explained that the Centre for Indigenous Studies at U of T — currently focused on undergraduate offerings — is developing a new graduate program, with a potential launch in fall 2027.

“There is so much work to do here in Canada, and I’m sure everywhere in the world, in terms of bringing our truth to the world,” said Wastasecoot. “I look forward to what our young people will be doing in the next generations.”

Turner believes that Canada has a sufficient number of Indigenous studies programs. He instead stressed, “It’s a matter of empowering [these programs] more in terms of resources.”

Development of Indigenous studies

Indigenous studies programs have expanded significantly in recent years. Wastasecoot said that, since she joined U of T in 2014, the number of Indigenous professors has more than doubled thanks to the work of Susan Hill — director of the Centre for Indigenous Studies, a Haudenosaunee citizen (Wolf Clan, Mohawk Nation), and resident of Ohswe:ken (Grand River Territory). UTSG now also has over 10 Indigenous professors, with additional hires across all three campuses, according to Wastasecoot.

Turner, who is leading the development of graduate studies at the Centre for Indigenous Studies along with Hill, said that “In order to create a PhD program or a masters program, there’s a process within the university, and it… could take up to three years once the process starts, and we are really at the very beginning of that.”

Since the graduate program at U of T is in its early stages of development, Turner did not comment on whether the graduate program will offer special scholarships to Indigenous students. However, he noted that the program will likely offer similar scholarships and grants to most other departments that offer graduate students funding packages.

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Final report on missing Indigenous children brings light to systemic erasure

Indigenous leader calls for additional federal support toward uncovering unmarked graves

After a two-year-long investigation, the Office of the Independent Special Interlocutor (OISI) released its final report on residential schools and their victims. The report’s message is clear: Canada’s work toward reconciliation has only just begun.

In the report, Independent Special Interlocutor Kimberly Murray, a member of the Kanehsatà:ke Mohawk Nation, calls on the Canadian governments, churches, and other institutions to adopt the 42 “legal, moral, and ethical obligations” outlined in the report. These obligations are informed by frameworks such as the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Indigenous laws, international human

rights law, and Canadian constitutional law. The obligations include the legal protection of residential school records and acknowledging the enforced disappearance of Indigenous children as a crime against humanity.

The report also calls on Canada to make residential school denialism illegal through amending the Online Harms Act and the Criminal Code and making it a legal offence.

Suspended Columbia professor holds Zionism rally at King’s College Circle

O4P condemns U of T for allowing Davidai’s presence on campus

Urooba Shaikh, Matthew Molinaro, and Damola Omole

UTM Bureau Chief, Graduate Student Bureau Chief, and Associate News Editor

Content warning: This article mentions antisemitism and Nazism

On October 21, a former assistant professor from Columbia University, Shai Davidai, held a rally at King’s College Circle protesting anti-Zionism and antisemitism at U of T. The rally marked the second day of his tour led by the Tafsik Organization — a group that rallies across Canadian universities to stand against antisemitism and anti-Zionism.

Davidai, who faces multiple allegations ranging from racism to doxxing, was suspended from Columbia University after reportedly harassing and intimidating university employees.

Davidai’s rally, O4P press conference

The student-led UofT Occupy for Palestine (O4P) group organized a press conference outside Simcoe Hall on October 21 at 11:30 am, immediately before the scheduled time for Davidai’s rally. The group condemned U of T for allowing Davidai on campus and disregarding concerns O4P raised about his presence.

“As Palestinian students and allies, we know from lived experiences that the University of Toronto’s administration is neither prepared nor willing to protect us… whether it was during the occupation of Simcoe Hall, at the encampment, or in our everyday campus life,” said Palestinian U of T student, Serene Paul, during the press conference.

Jewish community members also shared their perspectives on Davidai’s presence and the rally during the press conference.

“We [Jewish people] are not a monolith and… many pro-Israel counter-protesters have discredited the Jewish of myself and others by referring to us as ‘self-declared as well as self-

hating Jews’… and have subjected us to threats of physical violence and doxxing. This erasure itself is deeply anti-semitic,” said Colin Pigeon Edwards, a Jewish PhD student in the Faculty of Music.

Sarit Cantor, a recent graduate of the masters of pastoral studies program at U of T — recently renamed to psychospiritual studies in September — and a member of the Jews Say No to Genocide Coalition, added, “Zionism has become a home for violence so vast, so destructive. The ways that Israel and its supporters stitch Judaism and Zionism together is a complete corruption of Jewish teachings.”

At noon, Davidai made his way to King’s College Circle and began the rally with a group of around 100 protesters. Among the protesters were the independent Zionist vigilante group Magen Herut Canada (Defender of Freedom Canada), who have been patrolling at U of T since the beginning of the semester, claiming they are protecting Jewish students.

Four Toronto Police Service officers were also present, along with U of T’s Campus Safety Special Constable Service and additional security presence.

As Davidai addressed the crowd, he shared the reasons why he had chosen to hold the rally at U of T, saying that “Hamas-supporting students and their professors” have made Canadian universities “uninhabitable for Jews.”

Allegations of harassing and doxxing students

Davidai and the protesters also repeatedly called on O4P members watching from the sidelines to remove their face coverings.

In an email to The Varsity, Sara Rasikh — an O4P spokesperson and second-year masters student studying social justice education — explained that Davidai’s “history of harassing and doxxing students” informed O4P’s decision not to counter-protest. As part of this decision-

making, Rasikh highlighted U of T’s alleged instances of anti-Palestinian racism at the Simcoe Hall occupation, the encampment, and on-campus protests.

“Our restraint was intentional and grounded in a commitment to de-escalation. Time and again, we have witnessed UofT’s administration fail to create a genuinely safe environment for Palestinian and pro-Palestine students,” Rasikh wrote. “This consistent neglect has left us responsible for our own safety, which was a priority on that day.”

“Our aim was not only to ensure our community’s safety but also to uphold a stance that distinguishes free speech from hate speech—particularly speech that endangers students based on their views or identities.”

Speakers at the rally referred to students wearing keffiyehs as “Hamas sympathizers” and “jihadis.” While the word means ‘effort’ or ‘struggle’ in Arabic, “jihad” has been commonly interpreted as the ‘holy war’ and misused by the West to characterize Muslims as terrorists.

Rasikh argued that the harassment is “a direct attack on academic freedom and students’ rights, fostering a climate of fear and hostility.”

“The keffiyehs and symbols of Palestine solidarity are more than just attire or statements; they are expressions of identity and resistance that have frequently become targets,” she wrote.

During the press conference, Rasikh shared that she and other pro-Palestine students and faculty at U of T have recently been listed on Canary Mission’s website, which documents and publishes identifying information about pro-Palestine individuals and groups.

“Although the university has communicated to us that they understand the distress caused by being doxxed on Canary Mission, they allowed Davidai — someone who has shared the Canary Mission watchlist of UofT students,

As of writing, the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation has confirmed the deaths of 4,118 Indigenous children who attended residential schools over its 160-year operation. However, according to Murray, many more related deaths remain uncounted, including those in tuberculosis sanatoriums, “Indian hospitals,” and homes for pregnant girls.

For Indigenous communities seeking justice, the search for unmarked burials remains an ongoing and bureaucratically difficult endeavour. The executive summary of the final report outlines the policy and research barriers hindering these searches and asserts that Canada must confront its legal responsibilities to survivors.

Murray’s report calls on the government to create an Indigenous-led national commission that will operate for over 20 years to investigate missing and disappeared Indigenous children. She argues that this action will help fulfill the “highly personal yet universal human need — to know what happened to their deceased loved ones and to mourn, bury, and memorialize them according to the laws, spiritual beliefs, and practices of one’s own culture.”

When the Toronto Star asked Minister of Justice and Attorney General Arif Virani about the federal government’s response to the report, he confirmed that a response is forthcoming, though it may be delayed due to the report’s “voluminous” nature.

Concerning the amendment of the criminal code to include residential school denialism, Virani said that he intends to “do right by the work that’s been committed over these past two-plus years, by Ms. Murray and by those elders and those survivors, and review this material thoroughly,” before issuing an official statement.

This report from the OISI follows the findings of the progress update report from November 2022 and the interim report from June 2023.

staff, and faculty on social media — to freely roam campus. This decision reflects a serious disregard for the safety and well-being of those targeted,” she wrote.

However, as of writing, The Varsity was only able to independently verify that Davidai had shared Canary Mission watchlists of U of T faculty on his social media.

U of T admin, faculty response Davidai also made other inflammatory statements directed at the U of T administration, comparing them to the Nazi party.

He claimed that “the administration is our problem, just like the Nazis.”

In response to his comments, a spokesperson for U of T wrote to The Varsity “The university has a high threshold for expression, and that can include speech and imagery that are uncomfortable and offensive to some.”

According to the spokesperson, “Professor Davidai’s visit to Toronto was organized by an external group, with no involvement by the University of Toronto. Members of the public are generally allowed in unrestricted areas of our campuses as long as they abide by the law and university policies.”

They added, “The University of Toronto continues to be responsive to the unique needs and concerns of our community and has posted resources and supports for Jewish and Israeli members and Palestinian, Arab and Muslim members, among others.”

Faculty for Palestine (F4P) UofT did not comment on Davidai’s appearance on U of T campus. In an email to The Varsity, the group explained that its position is to support students and faculty’s Palestine solidarity work in many forms.

“We endorse the Palestinian right to education under colonial occupation and apartheid, and support building ties with Palestinian academic institutions, colleagues, students, and staff,” they wrote, drawing on the F4P’s basis of unity. “We oppose the fallacious conflations of anti-Zionism with antisemitism, and of Zionism with Judaism, and we affirm the right to criticize any state, including the state of Israel.”

Genevieve Sugrue Long-Form Video Editor

Kamloops residential school in 1930, where 215 suspected unmarked graves were found in 2021 COURTESY OF ARCHIVES DESCHÂTELETS-NDC, RICHELIEU CC WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

Business & Labour

November 12, 2024

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Equity, Diversity & Inclusion Report reveals Indigenous employment at U of T increased — marginally

U of T professor suggests holitics review of Indigenous representation on campus

Thomas Law Labour Correspondent

In 2023, 1.3 per cent of workers at U of T identified as Indigenous, according to the university’s Equity, Diversity & Inclusion Report. This represents a 0.1 percentage point increase from the previous year.

56.1 per cent of staff responded to employment survey questions in 2023, compared to 73 per cent of staff in 2022.

The Varsity examined U of T’s Indigenous employment statistics and the school’s role in facilitating the Truth and Reconciliation Steering Committee’s (TRSC) calls to action.

Numbers and what’s beyond U of T has increased its overall proportion of Indigenous employment by 0.2 per cent since 2018. In 2023, 11 out of 778 substantive new hires in 2023 — people hired to permanent positions — identified as Indigenous.

However, U of T’s Employment Equity Dashboard indicates that, out of 722 total promotions the same year, the number of promoted workers identifying as Indigenous was “not reportable due to small sample size.”

The overall nature of Indigenous employment is not simply a story of numbers. Tyler Pennock — associate professor at the Centre for Indigenous Studies at U of T — wrote to The Varsity in an email that treating representation as a single number “has the potential to obscure the reality of Indigenous experience at the University of Toronto.” Pennock is a two-spirit (reconnected) adoptee from a Cree and Métis family around Alberta’s Lesser Slave Lake region, and a member of Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation.

The Employment Equity Dashboard relies on

individuals to self-identify, and many people may choose not to self-identify for a variety of reasons.

Shannon Simpson, senior director at the Office of Indigenous Initiatives at U of T, also wrote in an email to The Varsity that “Rather than setting a specific target, our priorities are Indigenous representation across all three campuses, ensuring that people feel supported, that people have access to mentorship opportunities and see themselves represented.”

U of T does not have any staffing proportion targets based on ethnicity.

Gendered perspective and pay gaps

The gender pay gap affects Indigenous employment. In 2022, the gender pay gap ran at around 13 per cent in Ontario, meaning that for every dollar a man makes, a woman makes 87 cents.

Indigenous women are doubly disadvantaged in relation to their peers. In 2023, the average hourly wage for an Indigenous woman was 90.3 percent of that of a non-Indigenous woman. Indigenous women earn just 78.6 percent compared to non-Indigenous men in Canada, and 88.6 percent compared to Indigenous men.

The 50 - 30 challenge — a federal government-led initiative aiming for gender parity — also seeks to achieve a “significant representation” of 30 per cent of board members or senior management positions being women, members of the 2SLGBTQ+ community, people with disabilities, or visible minorities, including Indigenous individuals. U of T has not signed up for the challenge, unlike 30 other universities including eight in Ontario.

A spokesperson for the University of Toronto Faculty Association (UTFA) President Terezia

Indigenous with (government) benefits

Demystifying the tax and health benefits Indigenous people receive in Canada

Blakely Thompson

Varsity Contributor

Growing up, I encountered a confusing stereotype: Indigenous people greedily consume Canadian tax dollars. I walked the unpaved roads of my reserve, looking for evidence. I slept on a mattress on the floor with three of my siblings. I drank our water, but only after boiling it and letting it cool. I wondered — if all of our ‘benefits’ existed, why couldn’t we see them?

As an adult, I have a more nuanced understanding. Though we do receive certain benefits, accessing them often involves overcoming financial barriers and hidden costs such as possible data leaks. For example, dental work can be reimbursed but it typically requires the individual to have the funds to pay for the services upfront. This is especially challenging for those who need these resources the most.

The tax exemptions offered to Indigenous people

The idea that Indigenous people don’t pay any tax at all is a myth. However, we do have some tax exemptions — income or transactions that are free from tax at the federal, state, or local level — in specific circumstances. The most relevant exemptions are for employment income, goods and services sales tax (GST), and the harmonized sales tax (HST).

According to Canadian government guidelines, employment income is taxexempt when the source of employment is connected to a reserve — a land that the

federal government designates for the use of Indigenous peoples.

Employment is considered connected to a reserve in several instances. If 90 per cent or more of an Indigenous worker’s labour is performed on reserve, the individual’s income is exempt from taxation. If less than 90 per cent is performed on reserve, only the proportion of income earned on reserve is tax-exempt. Employment income is also tax-free if both the employer and Indigenous employee live on reserve. Additionally, if 50 per cent or more of the work is performed on reserve and either the employer or employee resides there, that income is tax-exempt. Finally, if the employer is a reserve resident and owns an organization dedicated to Indigenous social or economic development, then their worker’s income is taxexempt.

On my reserve, we lack the economic resources and labour capacity to employ many people locally. Many workers commute to nearby towns for jobs and therefore do not qualify for the exemption. Additionally, these rules serve as guidelines and do not guarantee that income will be tax-exempt.

Indigenous people’s proximity to a reserve and activities performed by Indigenous people also impact eligibility for GST and HST exemptions. This means that property purchases, goods, or services on reserve may qualify. For example, an Indigenous person buying property on reserve can be exempt from tax if they provide a status card — a form of identification that verifies a person’s Indigenous identity.

The GST and HST exemptions can also apply to provincial taxes for purchases made off reserve, as long as the vendor is aware

Zorić wrote to The Varsity in an email that UTFA requested data on demographics and salaries of its members from the university administration in March. Zorić noted that the data was outdated by the time UTFA received it.

Truth and Reconciliation

The Canadian government established the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) to facilitate reconciliation among Indigenous communities and all Canadians following the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement of 2007. In 2015, TRC published 94 Calls to Action to the Canadian government to advance reconciliation between Indigenous peoples and Canadians. However, a 2023 report by the Yellowhead Institute — a Toronto Metropolitan University-based research centre — found that the government had yet to address 81 of the calls and that Canada completed zero of the total calls to action.

“We seem to be forgetting the larger importance of the TRC calls to action,” wrote Pennock. “Have we reached that point?… The work isn’t done, change isn’t an event – it’s a process. We weren’t meant to finish the work of the TRC… within my lifetime. It takes more work.” In 2017, U of T’s TRSC published a report that built off of Canada’s TRC, and included 34 calls to action.

Simpson wrote to The Varsity that the number of Indigenous faculty and staff who joined U of T since the school started addressing the TRSC’s 34 calls to action is “amazing,” and that the school has been focusing on Indigenous hiring as a “major priority.”

“We now have Indigenous staff and faculty across all three campuses, and the opportunities for growth and availability of different roles across different portfolios is really exciting,” she wrote.

and able to apply the exemption at the point of sale. If this is not the case, an Indigenous person can apply for an HST refund.

The benefits and costs surrounding healthcare for Indigenous peoples

Another resource Indigenous people can access is the Non-Insured Health Benefits (NIHB) program, though there are barriers and costs associated with it. NIHB provides healthcare coverage for eligible First Nations and Inuit people in Canada, including dental care, vision care, prescription drugs, mental health counselling, and more.

NIHB only applies to First Nations people registered under the Indian Act or Inuit people recognized by an Inuit land claim organization, which excludes the Métis people. These services can be directly paid for by NIHB when providers are registered in the program, or Indigenous individuals can seek reimbursement.

One barrier to accessing NIHB is knowing what the program covers. While organizations that accept NIHB payments can provide some information, comprehensive details are not easily accessible. Often, learning about this coverage

requires a computer, and applying for it may need other devices, such as a printer. Those who need these services the most may struggle with navigating the process of accessing them.

While reimbursement costs can be a barrier, there are other overlooked costs. A recent example involves Health Canada’s data-sharing agreement with American pharmaceutical company Brogan Inc. which began in 2001. The contract allowed Brogan Inc. to sell Indigenous people’s NHIB data to other companies. This caused sensitive information on Indigenous aggregate reports and demographic data to be publicly available under the Access to Information Act — which allows Canadians to request information under the control of a federal government institution. While the benefits we receive can be valuable, they should not be considered at face value. I am personally grateful for my ability to access tax exemptions and federal healthcare, and I recognize them as a means of mitigating the systemic harm done to Indigenous peoples. While I appreciate being able to buy bottled water on my reserve with less tax, ultimately, I’d rather we all have access to drinkable tap water.

VICKY HUANG/THE VARSITY

VICKY HUANG/THE VARSITY

Opinion

November 12, 2024

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Forum: Is Bill C-413 beneficial for Truth and Reconciliation efforts?

What banning residential school denialism would mean for Canada

Ahmed Hawamdeh, Natalie Lau Domestic Affairs Columnist, Varsity Contributor

On September 26, Member of Parliament Leah Gazan introduced Bill C-413 — a proposed law aimed at banning residential school denialism, including efforts to deny or downplay the harms caused by Canada's residential schools on Indigenous communities. However, some argue that criminalizing differing perspectives “makes it even more difficult to correct bad ideas and lingering injustices.”

If convicted for “willful promotion of hatred,” a person is subject to imprisonment not exceeding two years or a fine not exceeding $5,000. Notably, a person cannot be convicted under this law if they establish that their statements were true, expressed in good faith or on a belief in a religious text, relevant for the public interest or believed on reasonable grounds to be true, and intended to remove feelings of hatred toward Indigenous peoples.

The Varsity asked two writers to reflect on the bill’s potential effects on Indigenous peoples and our rights under the Canadian government.

Dismantling denial or restricting discourse?

I believe Bill C-413 is too rooted in idealism and fails to consider the possible implications. Though the government may want to quell residential school denialism, this bill could be more detrimental to already marginalized groups.

A law that is unrestrictive in interpretation and vague in its wording can inadvertently reinforce oppressive power structures and create fertile ground for misuse. Coming from Hong Kong, I’ve witnessed how its government used the 2020 National Security Law to criminalize various perspectives. Citizens with dissenting views against the government were convicted of what the government labelled as “secession, subversion, terrorism, and collusion with foreign forces.” Now, I continue to be skeptical of broad and vague laws

that influence one’s freedom of speech.

Connecting back to Bill C-413, imagine if someone who comes from a background with little formal education says something about residential schools that may be factually inaccurate or downplays those atrocities. This person could be tried under the proposed legislation, while potentially being unable to afford legal representation. They could then be convicted and forced to serve time in the carceral system, which will have detrimental impacts on their family, community, mental health, and job prospects.

If this bill is passed, I believe people who have faced systemic barriers, such as poverty or lack of access to education, are most at risk. Laws often have less impact on the wealthier, more educated segments of society, as they more often have access to legal aid and can potentially find ways to avoid the legal consequences of their actions.

An important point to consider is that the criminal justice system has historically disproportionately incarcerated poor and racialized individuals, particularly Indigenous and Black people. This raises the question: can this policy truly be considered reconciliatory if it relies on a system that is inherently biased against disadvantaged communities?

As writer Audre Lorde argued in a 1984 essay about Black resistance against white supremacy, “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” I believe that attempting to achieve justice through the same punitive tools — namely, Canada’s legal system — that has historically marginalized Indigenous and other vulnerable communities is fundamentally contradictory. Such an approach would stifle a culture of free speech and learning.

A truly reconciliatory policy should aim to foster a culture of community-based learning. Take the Indigenous practice of restorative justice circles, a peacemaking practice where offenders, victims, family, community members, and justice system representatives engage in dialogue.

Reconciliation should not rely on the legal system, which has historically been used as an instrument of oppression.

Natalie Lau is a second-year student at Victoria College studying criminology and socio-legal studies and history. She is a member of the UTSU senate and a marketing director at U of T Volunteers Connect.

A duty to listen and act

I will never forget the day in May 2021 when the remains of 215 children were found on the grounds of the Kamloops Indian Residential School. 215 children — each of them had a life, a story.

I believe that any attempt to intentionally deny this history is not only dangerous but also constitutes hate speech. Along with other efforts to promote increased awareness about residential schools, I feel residential school denialism should be outlawed in Canada.

Residential schools were funded by the federal government with the intent of assimilating Indigenous children, facilitating what the Truth and Reconciliation Commission has now deemed a cultural genocide. Over 150,000 Indigenous children attended these schools and were forcibly taken from their families. An estimated 6,000 children died, with some schools having a mortality rate as high as 60 per cent. Thousands more were victims of physical and sexual abuse.

Special Interlocutor Kimberly Murray’s report from October on the unmarked graves of Indigenous children in Canada states that for many survivors and their descendants, the process of recovery often involves revisiting trauma — particularly when confronted by denialists who negate this dark chapter in Canadian history.

Both Liberals and Conservatives need to do more for Indigenous groups

When will Indigenous peoples’ protests be enough?

Emmanuella Nwabuoku

Varsity Contributor

Content warning: This article mentions antiIndigenous racism, anti-Black racism, and murder.

“Truth and reconciliation” is becoming the new “thoughts and prayers.” While Canadian politicians acknowledge the country’s violent history, I believe they make little effort to change the present.

Our politicians offer constant apologies and pledges — like Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s 2021 apology for unmarked graves at residential schools — to quell our rage over the lack of true progress.

For politicians, the appearance of progress often matters more than real change. I also saw this prevalent during the Black Lives Matter protests, in which US leaders took a knee and commissioned street murals in honour of the movement, while various states increased police funding for an organ of the government that is infamous for over-policing and brutality within Black communities.

With no options for real social change, marginalized groups are left choosing between the bare minimum or nothing at all. I believe Trudeau’s bare minimum is only marginally better than Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre’s proposed reversal of progress. But just because one is slightly better doesn’t mean we should settle for it.

Empty promises and political stagnation

In 2015, Trudeau ran for the leadership of the Liberal Party, gaining support by advocating for Indigenous communities. After the election, he engaged with Indigenous organizations and launched the National Action Plan — an initiative to combat the high rate of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and members of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. However, these initiatives have led to little substantive change, as the homicide rate for Indigenous women remains six times higher than that of non-Indigenous women in 2023.

Violence against Indigenous peoples remains prevalent. For example, Steven Dedam — a Mi’kmaq man in New Brunswick — was murdered by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police this year during a “wellness check.”

I believe that like many politicians, Trudeau thinks pointing out Canada’s violent history against Indigenous peoples reflects well on him, yet the underlying issues remained unchanged.

Like Trudeau, Poilievre frames what I view to be reductive policies as ‘progress.’ In a speech to the Assembly of First Nations in July, he promised the Chiefs present that, if elected, his government would reduce the federal involvement in their lives and give them greater control over their economic futures.

In my view, Poilievre is simply imposing a ‘pull yourself up by your bootstrap’ mentality on Indigenous issues, ignoring the government’s

Survivors and their descendants deserve better than being forced to listen to denialists who spew rhetoric that minimizes and erases their lived experience, without consequence.

Canadian public opinion analyst Research Co.’s poll from October also shows that 57 per cent of Canadians would either “definitely” or “probably” support criminalizing residential school denialism.

Some critics believe that criminalizing residential school denialism represents a “clear disdain for free speech,” and I can understand those who worry about the slippery slope of limiting speech. However, I encourage people to view efforts to combat residential school denialism and other forms of hate speech as guardrails for free speech. I think it will limit discrimination and misinformation while promoting dialogue and bridge-building conversations — all of which are key for any democratic society.

We should also recognize that residential school denialism does not exist in a vacuum, and that alongside these efforts, we must continue to advocate for increased educational opportunities about residential schools, as outlined in numerous calls to action in the 2015 Truth and Reconciliation report.

With the last residential school closing in 1996, an estimated 80,000 survivors remain. When residential school survivors like Douglas George-Kanentiio go to Parliament Hill to say that Canadians must “come to grips” with the realities of the residential school system, I believe we all have a duty to listen — and more importantly, to act.

Ahmed Hawamdeh is a third-year student at Trinity College studying public policy, political science, and French. He is the Domestic Affairs Columnist for The Varsity’s Opinion section.

responsibility to address the traumatic effects of the Canadian government’s historical policies and programs like the residential school system.

Additionally, his environmental policies centre on “axing” the carbon tax, one of Canada’s key efforts to combat climate change. Environmental issues affect everyone but are especially relevant for Indigenous peoples, whom Canada has recognized as “stewards” of the land.

Knowing what could happen if Poilievre is elected as Prime Minister, I can somewhat appreciate Trudeau. I recognize he is the better of the two. I can see the Liberal Party’s efforts in their 4.35 billion dollar investment into 1,345 clean water infrastructure projects for Indigenous communities. As of October, 146 long-term drinking water advisories have been lifted since 2015.

I ultimately prefer incremental progress and acknowledgment over ignorance and decline.

Learn from the past, plan for the future However, we should not settle for shallow gestures and acknowledgments. I have noticed

that politicians often prioritize saying anything to secure power over our collective wellbeing, and if we rely solely on their limited ‘good intentions,’ progress in addressing social issues will stagnate.

If you are non-Indigenous, you might view politics surrounding Indigenous issues as distant or irrelevant. However, I’d remind readers that we all live under the same government. Oppressive governments often start by targeting marginalized communities before moving on to others. Without sounding alarmist, the issues you turn away from may eventually affect you when you least expect it.

We must take action within our communities. Even as non-Indigenous people, there are steps we can take: speak to your local representatives, attend Indigenous-led protests, collaborate with the Assembly of First Nations, or engage in community dialogue.

Change can be incremental or accelerated; it depends on your actions now.

Emmanuella Nwabuoku is a first-year student at Victoria College.

JAYLIN KIM/THEVARSITY

Like Trudeau, Poilievre obscures reductive policies as ‘progress.’ COURTESY OF PASCALHD CC WIKIMEDIA COMMONS AND PRIME MINISTER OF CANADA CC YOUTUBE

It’s time for the British royal family to remove its control over Canada

Reconciliation through sovereignty

“This is not your land. You are not our king,” is what Indigenous Australian Senator Lidia Thorpe shouted at King Charles III during his royal visit to Australia earlier last month.

While other parliament members categorized the nature of her protest as “disrespectful,” Thorpe nonetheless raised an important dilemma for us in Canada: the relationship between the British Crown and the Indigenous peoples of Canada.

Today, Canada is still a constitutional monarchy, and the British Crown sits at the top of its political hierarchy despite Canada being a sovereign nation. As a British citizen, the concept of the monarchy always troubled me. Allowing a hereditary ruler dominion over the nation, providing them with 510 million pounds a year through taxpayers’ money, and exempting them from civil and criminal law, are certainly at odds with our supposedly democratic values.

For the Indigenous peoples of Canada, the Crown’s power has been far more painful due to Britain’s long history of colonization. I believe it is high time we reconsider the royal family’s role in Canada and stop wasting valuable funds that could go toward Truth and Reconciliation efforts — 94 calls to action from Indigenous groups to address

peoples around the world.” When unmarked graves of Indigenous children were found on former residential school sites, social activists toppled over statues of Queen Elizabeth and Queen Victoria, blaming them for “the most genocidal policies in history.”

This colonial relationship dates back to when British settlers of the seventeenth century arrived in the land we now call Canada, and King George III’s 1763 Royal Proclamation eventually formalized British rule of law in Canada, serving as a legal basis for treaties between the Crown and Indigenous peoples.

Many non-Indigenous people in Canada are also uncomfortable with the monarchy’s role in Canada. 55 per cent of respondents in The Guardian’s 2021 poll believe the monarchy is no longer relevant, while only 22 per cent want to keep the governorgeneral, which is the Crown’s representative in the Canadian parliament and has the power to call and dismiss parliament.

Democracy and funding

To me, there is little reason why Canada should keep ties with the monarchy. We proclaim to live in an age of reason and unprecedented freedoms, yet our sovereign nation still functions beneath a supposedly divine monarch who is the commander-in-chief of Canada’s army.

In a democracy, citizens — not an unelected monarchy — should be the emergency brake if the prime minister or parliament becomes authoritarian. Canadian citizens should be able to exert their autonomy without the threat of another country’s monarch stepping in and removing their fundamental freedoms. Yes, this is a very unlikely scenario, but the fact that the king has this power

suggests to me that the concerns of Canadians are secondary to the British Crown — and this is an affront to the values of any democracy.

Additionally, the monarchy might be costing Canadian taxpayers $58.7 million annually. King Charles’ three-day visit to the country in 2022 cost at least $1.4 million alone.

In the context of government finances, this is not a large sum of money, but to Indigenous peoples whose promised projects have been neglected by the federal government, it certainly will be. This money could instead contribute to the $10 million allocated for Indigenous health initiatives or the $21 million for Indigenous housing in Manitoba.

Making amends

It might seem logical that the Crown would apologize for their past atrocities. West German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer apologized for the Holocaust in 1951 and paid Israel reparations of three billion deutschmarks in 1952 — approximately eight billion euros today.

So should Britain, too, pay reparations?

I think the reason Adenauer’s reparations were effective was that his government was directly responsible for that unspeakable act of violence that he apologized for. King Charles was not a direct perpetrator of the European settlements in Canada, nor was his family

which descends from a completely different line, so I worry any apology may ultimately appear performative.

I believe we should not assign hereditary guilt and blame the descendants for their families’ mistakes. To shoulder the burden of reparations on British citizens seems both impractical and unfair to me. Reparations may also be financially concerning when Britain has a 22 billion pound “debt” in its budget.

Instead, establishing an educational framework for British students that emphasizes the history of the Indigenous peoples of North America is a strong start to bridging global reconciliation. It will highlight an ignored part of British history, allowing for a degree of atonement for the past without unfairly assigning blame.

Most importantly, the ultimate apology that the British monarchy can offer is to remove its powers in Canada. This can be a final act to make sure investments can be transferred to working toward Truth and Reconciliation rather than wasting millions on lavish ceremonies for what I view as an outdated body of power.

Only in this way can the Crown offer actions — not just words — to try and make up for its past injustices.

Felix Hughes is a second-year student at Trinity College studying history and political science.

Canada needs tangible change to address the medical neglect of Indigenous communities

The Canadian Medical Association (CMA) exists with one primary purpose: to improve Canada’s healthcare system and provide adequate support for health workers.

On their website, the CMA states, “Our goal is a more sustainable, accessible health system — more urgently needed than ever — and a new culture of medicine that champions equity, diversity and inclusion.” However, given the Canadian healthcare system’s medical neglect of the Indigenous community, I question the sincerity of these claims.

On September 18, the CMA issued a formal “apology to Indigenous peoples.”

CMA President Joss Reimer expressed deep shame for the Canadian healthcare system’s “deplorable” racism, including the “discrimination and physical and psychological harms Indigenous people have faced as a result of [both] the actions and inactions of physicians both historically and today.”

Time and time again, I have seen organizations set goals to address problems that the public is dissatisfied with. However, behind closed doors, they often do nothing. I have seen the Canadian government apologize for the legacy of residential schools, yet fail to follow up with adequate support for the other issues that Indigenous communities continue to fight against, such as violence against Indigenous women.

As with the government’s repeated failures to enact practical change, I believe the CMA is simply presenting a performative apology that holds no real action in sight.

Persistent medical injustices

Indigenous children and adults have suffered greatly at the hands of the CMA. History reveals numerous incidents, such as those at Indian Hospitals that operated in Canada from the 1940s to the 1980s. Indigenous patients received poor and unsafe care and were subjected to abuse, forced experiments, and sterilization. Driven by non-Indigenous peoples’ fear of contamination from Indigenous patients, these hospitals were created as a form of segregation.

The CMA acknowledged that Indian Hospitals’ health workers referred to Indigenous patients with derogatory racial slurs. Many health care workers were also involved in abducting children during the

Sixties Scoop. Canadian government child welfare workers removed Indigenous children from their families en masse based on the harmful belief that Indigenous people were unfit to parent.

Today, many Indigenous people continue to be denied the urgent health care they need due to stereotypes of them being intoxicated or homeless. These systemic biases and racism contribute to Indigenous women experiencing pregnancy related deaths at twice the rate of non-Indigenous women, along with higher rates of poor birth outcomes.

I find it hard not to feel angry at the many injustices faced by Indigenous children and adults. Illnesses and diseases were neglected, and lives were destroyed. But when leaders of the Indigenous community have accepted the CMA’s apology, how can a non-Indigenous person like me not?

Métis elder and former President of the Métis Nation of Saskatchewan Jimmy Durocher said the CMA’s apology and acknowledgement of historical wrongs is a “first step” to real reconciliation, much like Canada’s statement of apology for its crimes and wrongdoings during the residential school system.

Durocher added, “It’s going to take a long time because there was a lot of damage and harm done to our people.”

Moving forward

Now, what matters are the CMA’s actions. They can follow in the footsteps of the federal government and continue to neglect the needs and safety of Indigenous communities, who were promised adequate housing support to improve their infrastructure but never received it. Or, the CMA can make a tangible change.

I believe a solution is to make it compulsory to train healthcare workers to respect everyone, regardless of their race, colour, or ethnicity through courses in medical and nursing schools that address Indigenous health issues. As of 2023 many schools provide the courses, but not all, which is why I believe the government should mandate their inclusion.

Both the CMA and the government need to allocate proper funding to ensure Indigenous health support. Despite allocating $200 million annually into Indigenous health, Canadian leaders use rural Indigenous communities’ geographical distance from urban areas to justify the lack of proper health facilities and professionals.

Distance should not be an excuse. Of the $372 billion the Canadian government spent on healthcare this year, only two billion dollars were allocated to the Indigenous community and to be distributed over a 10-year period. Hospitals and physicians must be properly allocated in Indigenous communities to ensure that Indigenous patients are treated in a timely manner, and with respect. While some Indigenous patients may opt for traditional methods of healing, others may choose Western medical practices In times of need, when professional care is required, these facilities should be readily available.

Organizations are capable of change, as much as some people may not believe that to be true. Therefore, it’s never too late for the CMA to change.

Maram Qarmout is a fourth-year student studying digital enterprise management and professional writing communications. She is a lead copy-editor for The Varsity.

Photo November 12, 2024 thevarsity.ca/section/photo

Island Shades

A gift to my ancestor’s land

Ken Hynes Varsity Contributor

Look up, the sky and vast the sea of stars

The waves that kiss the rocks, they whisper ‘lo The lobster, sun-like, life is behind bars Both burning bright orange, red, and yellow

Abstract and crumbling, climb the rough hill’s scree The choice — or lack thereof — to sit and pray Wind whips and wails your face with salty sea Drive gravel roads, see long grass near the bay

These dark swells of east sea bed ensnare

The cod from Grand Banks, gutted, dry, and slack The greenhouse brings his salty tears through air Yet 10 years pass, same deep blue, green, and black

Small pink coat with young feet on rocky coasts. Swapped out for a new shade that sees the ghosts

Qalipu (ha-lee-boo) Mi'kmaq First Nation, West Coast Newfoundland. Photos taken by me in August 2023.

Illustrations

November 12, 2024

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Reclamation: Transformation

Marie Francis Varsity Contributor

My name is Marie Francis and I am a citizen of the Métis Nation of Ontario. I live in Region 7 and am a part of the Barrie-South Simcoe Métis Council.

I live in Barrie, Ontario. I come from the Labatte, Dusome, and Leduc Family Lines. I am an ambulatory wheelchair user and commute daily from Barrie to 500 University Avenue to study occupational therapy at the School of

"Hand

Graduate Studies at U of T. I have two children and have worked in seating and mobility for eight years prior to returning to school. I have a bachelor’s in disability studies from Toronto Metropolitan University and a diploma in prosthetics and orthotics from George Brown College.

My artwork was created using Procreate on my iPad. It is done in the style of ‘dot art’ which is a modern adaptation of traditional Métis beadwork.

Therapy"

The illustration of a hand is a self-portrait of my own right hand, which carries a scar from two surgeries. As an occupational therapy student, we work with hands and in hand therapy a lot. We like to take a "doing things that are important to you" focus in our rehabilitation philosophy as occupational therapists. This image tries to capture that philosophy as well as the idea of post-traumatic growth.

The illustration shows a hand drawing flowers that emerge from a scar — from the

site of injury, this person is creating beautiful and meaningful artwork. The drawing is also metaphorical, showing the beauty that can emerge from pain. The choice of flowers reflects the more traditional style of flower often used in beadwork as well as the trillium, which represents my Ontario provincial affiliation. The white pencil represents the electronic stylus I use to draw — bridging the old and new styles of art.

"Rage"

The second illustration shows rage shifting to beauty. A person is screaming in anger, pain, and frustration — but over time and with healing and love — the fire changes into flowers. The urgent, sharp colours are not lost — the message remains — but the medium of flames develops into something that will grow again year after year, renewing, sustaining, and developing in a way the initial flames cannot.

Fire is sacred and well-tended. It is life-giving yet it can also be exhausting and harmful. This is very much a ‘both’ situation — a space where two or more things can be true. There are many reasons to rage. At times a fiery scream is the perfect answer. However, it is also wonderful to witness calls for justice remaining sharp and poignant while also developing sustainability and growth.

Arts & Culture

November 12, 2024

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Fostering Indigeneity

A reflection on my experience as an Indigenous foster kid

Blakely Thompson Varsity Contributor

Today, many Canadians are familiar with the “Sixties Scoop,” during which provincial authorities seized nearly 20,000 Indigenous children and placed them in the child welfare system or residential schools. These government-funded, church-run institutions were violent, operating to commit cultural genocide. However, the less known is its descendant, the “Millennium Scoop,” referring to the seizure of Indigenous children since the year 2000, which similarly follows systematically removing and placing Indigenous children with typically non-Indigenous people.

The Millennium Scoop, however, strictly uses the foster care system. A 2021 study noted that in Canada, Indigenous children make up 53.8 per cent of those in foster care, despite being only 7.7 per cent of Canada’s total population under the age of 15. My family is a product of the Millennium Scoop. Foster care and our experiences continue to deeply affect our identities, particularly in relation to our Indigeneity.

My birth mother had 12 children over 20 years, starting when she was 17. I don’t know the full details of her life, but I know enough to understand that it was harder than anything I’ve been through. Her difficulties began long before her pregnancies. She was just a girl who took

on more responsibilities than anyone could bear, and she is still struggling with things she never got the chance to heal from. She tried her best but made many mistakes, so our entry into foster care was as necessary as it was damaging.

I am baby number six, born into foster care.

In my early childhood, I bounced between living in foster homes and with my birth family on our reserve — a piece of land designated by the government for Indigenous communities to live and govern themselves. With my birth family, I experienced more immediate dangers associated with the physical, psychological, social, and spiritual violence of poverty.

With my foster families, the dangers were more complex. Food insecurity caused by a lack of income was reframed as food restriction due to me being “too fat” or “too hyperactive.”

My foster family ignored the complexities of my identity and experiences. It didn’t matter that I was scared of when or where my next meal would come from. It didn’t matter that I was at a healthy weight and physically active. It didn’t matter that my ADHD and other mental diagnoses were responsible for my energy.

This is not all to say I didn’t, or don’t, experience genuine love. When I was around seven, my first foster parents, who let us call them Mommy and Daddy, took in my two younger siblings and me. I knew my little brother had cancer; just before coming to our foster home, he had been receiving treatment in what

The unromanticized romance of transgender Two-Spirit peoples

One Indigenous woman’s story

Moka Dawkins

Varsity Contributor

Content Warning: This article contains descriptions of violence and discusses transphobia.

I am Moka May Dawkins, a Two-Spirit transgender woman of Jamaican, Cuban, Black Nova Scotian, and Indigenous heritage. I have lived in Canada for 34 years, encountering people of diverse ethnicities, gender identities, and sexual orientations — whether immigrants, first-generation Canadians, and so on. Through my personal and social experiences, I’ve come to realize that the most challenging and complex relationship for a transgender or Two-Spirit person like myself to build is a genuine, committed romantic one. Let me share a bit of my past to explain how I arrived at this understanding.

I’ve only had the privilege of two serious romantic relationships in my life; most connections were primarily sexual and often transactional, as I side-hustled as a sex worker in my early 20s to help pay for hormones, laser treatments, and shopping trips. Before I began sex work, however, I was in a two-year-long relationship with a white guy named Johnny.

Things were good between Johnny and me at first, despite our differences — he was simple, and I was fashion-forward. But we didn’t break up over his basic t-shirt and jeans, I’m not that superficial. The real issue was we came from different worlds: I hustled from a split-parent home, he had financial security. Every time Johnny didn’t get his way with me he threw tantrums like a toddler — he was like, five or six years older than me! After two years of his clinginess and drama, I broke up with him and swore off white guys for good.

My second relationship, which has been on and off for the past seven years, was with a man I still love named Tray. He’s half-Jamaican, half-Irish.

I saw as the most glorious city in the world — Toronto. During our weekly visits with our birth family, our three eldest siblings raved about how there was a McDonald’s on every street, and they promised they’d take me there one day. They would show me how to make fun symbols with my hands, and I’d mimic their finger tattoos on my skin with pen ink.

At Catholic school, I learned Anishinaabemowin again, and for the first time in a long while, my little brother’s hair grew. He didn’t live long, but our families gave him all of the love and safety he needed at the end. We were very lucky to be found at that time by those people, even if they couldn’t keep us.

The next foster home I lived in didn’t hold the same values. They used the worst aspects of Christianity, like judgment and fear-based teachings, to teach me the idea that God’s love is conditional, and Indigenous culture and people

I was his sugar mama, but I saw it as protecting what I’d worked hard for. I’ll be damned if I let Tray, or any man, come into my life and turn my home upside down on me.

here were met with discomfort at best. In this home, stripping me of my culture and community was supposed to heal me. I was meant to be removed from danger so that I could grow and choose my identity, under the premise that I choose the ‘correct’ one. Growing up under this implicit and explicit pressure is incredibly difficult. No matter how much effort you put in, it will never satisfy the invisible expectations when you are born fundamentally ‘wrong.’

I don’t know the life stories of my three eldest siblings, and I won’t get the chance to know them again. They’re judged for choosing their lives, for choosing their deaths to any extent. The only time we are given our context is when people congratulate me on how far I’ve come. The world forgets that the only reason I am here at all is because my older siblings came and left first. The way the world receives our Indigeneity endangers us, but it is also our only way home.

We met in prison — yes, prison! I bet right now you’re wondering why I was in jail, huh? Well, to keep things in a short summary, you can watch my survival from an attempted murder on my life on Amazon Prime on OUTtv in my life and death documentary called Surviving The Block. Anyways, after we both got out in 2019, we continued our relationship “on the road,” as they say. Tray eventually cheated on me and got a “drunk night” girl pregnant, so I ended things.

Despite that, we stayed in touch. Admittedly, we still loved and missed each other. Tray struggled with his sexuality and wasn’t out to most of his family and friends, which partly contributed to his infidelity. Last summer, we recommitted, and he moved into my apartment on New Year’s Day — still in the closet, however. And to all the ladies reading this, yes, Right now you might think I’m crazy. But trust me, I’m good!

I allowed Tray to live in my place rent- and billfree. That’s right, I covered everything: rent, groceries, hydro, internet, even my phone bill, without asking for a cent. Some of you girls are probably wondering why, and some guys might be thinking, “Lucky man,” right? Well, I wanted to maintain my independence and avoid financially relying on Tray for anything. Plus, he was going through a rough patch, and I was happy to help him save while he supported his two children. I love him, after all. Some of my girlfriends joked that

By March this year, Tray’s friends and family started asking why he never invited them over or introduced them to me as his girlfriend. By then, he was running out of excuses. While I was open to having visitors, Tray was ashamed of me being a transgender Two-Spirit woman. He couldn’t bring himself to introduce me as his partner. That pain broke me in ways that no one can truly understand.

On Good Friday morning, after a night of drinking and overthinking, Tray had a mental breakdown and did the most unexpected and hurtful thing: he put his hands on me — punching me in the face, pulling my hair, and throwing me around. I know some of you are thinking, “OMG?

Moka, please tell me you fought back, right?” Well, after trying everything to calm him down and screaming for him to stop, I grabbed the Malibu bottle I had for Easter weekend and smashed it across his head, knocking him flat on his ass with a big welt on the left side of his forehead. Then, I packed his stuff and kicked him out.

I hope you now understand why I made sure not to depend on him for anything. I could have ended up trapped in a financially and emotionally abusive situation with nowhere to turn. I don’t have family here — my immediate family is in Montréal. I posted the entire story on YouTube, not only to help Tray explain his actions but also to raise awareness about the dangers transgender and Two-Spirit people face in relationships.

Transphobic Intimate Partner Violence

Returning to the complications of romantic relationships for transgender and Two-Spirit

people, we must confront a profound historical legacy of being overly sexualized and dehumanized by the exotic fetishism of white settler colonialism. Distorted Christian beliefs portrayed Indigenous and gender-nonconforming peoples as ‘other’ or in need of salvation, fueling harmful stereotypes that continue to marginalize these individuals in romantic relationships today. In an era of global reform with calls for reparations and ending violence, it is uncertain where transgender and Two-Spirit people fit into the fight for equality and the right to simply be seen as human. Despite being integrated into political institutions and civic discourse, we are often reduced to and defined by the fight against 2SLGBTQ+ discrimination, limiting our space to develop as diverse, multifaceted individuals.

We, apparently, need to convince cisgender heterosexuals that we are part of the same community, without them demonizing our intentions. Additionally, we must also do the work for everyone to normalize ourselves as worthy of love and passion — whether as friends, fleeting crushes, or potential romantic partners — without facing judgment or abandonment from family and friends.

While Canada may legally recognize diverse gender and sexual identities, this doesn’t translate into true equality or the security to form social or romantic connections. There is a need for a more humane engagement with transgender and TwoSpirit people — one that not only recognizes us as an identity category but also puts an end to the mental and physical violence we face daily. Additionally, we must also not overlook the need to help those from different cultural and religious backgrounds, who migrate to Canada, understand and accept us as we are.

Transgender and Two-Spirit peoples’ right to humane equality on these colonized lands is still a struggle. For true change to come about — where violence, discrimination, and racism end — we need society to see us as human, transcendent of any stereotypes. I believe the shift begins with us, offering the love we’ve gained from our experiences and those who came before us. Our biggest obstacle is the harmful ideology created to stifle our existence and destroy our purpose.

If you have or are encountering a similar situation and looking for support, or are looking to be a support person, please feel free to reach out to me on Instagram @moka_dawkins.

JENNIFER AHN/THE VARSITY

Omahksoyisksiksina (The Horned Monster)

A horror rendition of Piikani Blackfoot folklore’s greatest monster

Parnell Varsity Contributor

We need to talk about museums

On the representation of Indigenous peoples and their cultures in museums

Xarnah Stewart

Varsity

Contributor

When representing Indigenous cultures, museums often fall prey to the spectacle of neocolonial capitalist consumption — a system where wealthy nations maintain control over poorer countries by exploiting their resources, labour, and markets through economic and cultural influence. Often, Indigenous artifacts and narratives are commodified for visitors’ consumption instead of being exhibited through methods that allow Indigenous people to tell their own stories.

This commodification perpetuates distorted and reductive perceptions of Indigenous peoples, reinforcing colonial power dynamics and erasing Indigenous identity. Ultimately, these distorted perspectives reflect outsiders’ viewpoints, which are projected onto these exhibits, as audiences. This, as the American anthropologist Benedict Burton says, presents how “the display of people is a display of power” rings terribly true.

Throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, academia and museums in the US were deeply enmeshed in the systematic collection of Indigenous human remains, primarily for scientific inquiry across the American and Canadian North West. Notably, anthropologists like Franz Boas — widely considered the father of cultural anthropology in America — often resorted to robbing Indigenous peoples’ graves to meet the burgeoning demand for research specimens.

The US Congress passed the Antiquities Act of 1906, further subjecting Indigenous material culture to this anthropological inspection, and reducing human remains to the status of archaeological artifacts under federal authority. This legislative framework, while ostensibly aimed at safeguarding cultural heritage, perpetuated scholarly institutions’ appropriation of Indigenous remains.

It was not until America enacted the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act in 1990 that concerted efforts began to repatriate cultural artifacts from museums, federal agencies, and private collections. This shift was rooted in the 1960s Native American self-determination movement, which challenged museums and

Long black hair guards the border of the waterways — there she waits.

Skin the colour of ocean mud, moles stipple her frame like rocks in sand.

Scents thick of salt, cloying the air.

Her eyes peer from the surface scleras of oceanic depth, blue and black in colour.

She crouches her frame hungrily. She waits.

Her body spirals in the sea, fragments of bone blistering through temples, cornets adorning whilst blood trickles down her face, thrusting to the tip of her tongue she cannot wait much longer.

Omahksoyisksiksinacurls closer to her tail, stomach acid bubbling to her tonsils, saliva wet at the thought of a weightful jaw.

She widens her jowls, pointed tails brim her lips while hunger saturates her senses.

Abandon all sense of self!

Her tail teases as prey, just before she bites, appears a Niitsitapi. (Human)

Niitsitapi! Niitsitapi! Niitsitapi! Omahksoyisksiksina cries.

Her hum rumbles the water’s surface, tantalizing the plants nearby, swaying into the girl’s vision. The lake’s dark border of flowers sways, transfixing her gaze. The taupe complexion of ocean mud draws her in, gathering stones in her fingertips, salty-sweet smell of water guiding her to blue orbs upon the lake’s surface.

Senses deepen, taking in all before her. She traces scleras to the creature’s horns. She follows the ruby, flowing from horn to jaw.

Her feet sink into sand, fingertips claw her palm trying to reach the grass she stood upon before the ocean view. Confusion is eaten by

consternation as a figure shoots above the water’s surface.

Omahksoyisksiksina! Omahksoyisksiksina! Omahksoyisksiksina!

Niitsitapi cries, frame now coiled by Omahksoyisksiksina.

Omahksoyisksiksina’s jaw unhinges, rows of edged teeth exposed, an arrowhead tongue. The wider her mouth expands the larger she looks, eyes engorged with anticipation and hunger.

Omahksoyisksiksina taunts Niits’ frame, lapping girl skin, breaking its surface, pooling blood in needle-point droplets.

Omahksoyisksiksina plays with Niits’ features, dragging serrated tongue through eye sockets, the web of her hands. Girl compliant in the torture, Omahksoyisksiksina slithers ringlets around her prey.

Bones break within Omahksoyisksiksina’s grasp, protruding from Niits’ frame, blood spewing. Scent thick. Conscience gone.

Omahksoyisksiksina’s tail curls to the edge of her mouth, enraptured by the sullied frame of the girl. Niits’ blood warms cold snakeskin, easing hope for the monster. Do you feel regret for your mercilessness?

The finale of feeding, the taunting and teasing abandoned. Omahksoyisksiksina enshrines the remains in the corners of her jaw, gnawing at the tenderly feared flesh, separating meat from bones, swallowing both all the same.

Satiated. Omahksoyisksiksina licks the leftovers, bloodlust settles in her gut, heart-full.

Omahksoyisksiksina coils beneath the surface. Hair relines to the ocean’s border. Her scent softens, her eyes settle. She is now resting. Stilled and slowed. She waits.

inspired broader Indigenous activism, as noted by cultural anthropologist Patricia Pierce Erikson.

In Canada, similar changes in museum practices emerged around the same time, marked by events like the return of the Cranmer potlatch collection to the Kwakwaka’wakw of British Columbia in the 1970s, and the 1988 report Turning the Page, published by the Canadian Museums Association, which advocated for equal Indigenous participation in preserving their heritage.

Though we have fortunately progressed away from such ‘exhibits,’ museums will always nurture a contextual disconnect between the visitors and the exhibited cultures. Contemporary museums not only physically separate visitors from cultural displays using ropes and glass, but also encourage them to merely ‘look in,’ mirroring how Indigenous peoples were distanced and objectified by European settlers during their first encounters, and viewed from the so-called ‘civilized’ perspective.

Museums perpetuate the idea of the ‘Vanishing Indigene,’ a myth informed by pseudo-scientific theories out of nineteenth-century social Darwinism, which posited that Indigenous people belonged to an earlier stage in evolutionary history and were therefore doomed to disappear with the rise of modernity.

This restricted viewpoint can often become the primary lens through which Indigenous cultures are perceived, given the educational role of history museums in shaping public understanding of Indigenous peoples and their history. This situates museums as strongholds for the exploitation of culture as a commodity — museums become less about “collection-based work in studying and interpreting cultures, or what people do, say or think, but rather the assumed needs or impressions of visitors.”

Hence the importance of cultural heritage

museums — some like Huronia Museum and Huron-Ouendat Village that centre on telling “precontact” stories, and others like Ska-Nah-Doht Village and Museum that describe an overarching history, telling its visitors that the Indigenous people existed before and after European first contact, despite many efforts to deny this history.

Cultural heritage museums serve as vital counterpoints to mainstream narratives, offering Indigenous communities a platform to accurately represent their cultures, histories, and worldviews. The museums help foster empowerment, greater cultural understanding, and respect among both Indigenous and non-Indigenous audiences. For example, the Curve Lake Cultural Centre of the Curve Lake First Nations collaborates closely with the Elders Advisory Committee to ensure traditions, ceremonies, and language continue to be passed down across generations. Thus, these museums become pivotal in shaping public perceptions and narratives, particularly regarding Indigenous cultures.

Museums are not inherently incompatible with Indigenous sovereignty; rather, it is their design as institutions that consume other cultures — through exoticization and the reduction of complex identities to commodified experiences — that creates misalignment.

Archaeological remnants can also serve as tangible representations of histories that Indigenous communities endeavour to safeguard, defend, and in certain instances, revive. Instead of continuing to deliver the idea of the Vanishing Indigene, Indigenous people can use the very same artifacts to tell completely different — and more accurate — narratives.

In Ontario, there are many places that are made and run by Indigenous people. Given that art and education serve as mechanisms for social,

economic, and cultural reproduction, the interactive nature of community museums — coupled with the agency Indigenous peoples exercise in facilitating them — can foster a necessary shift in Indigenous peoples’ self-perception and viewers’ mindset. Heritage museums frequently underscore Indigenous survival and resilience in their exhibitions, serving as a poignant affirmation of cultural endurance. Central to this narrative is a compelling emphasis on the significance of the present and the future, firmly rooted in connections to the past. This counters the trauma-centered narratives that previous museums deployed.

Amy Lonetree (Ho-Chunk), associate professor of American studies at the University of California, Santa Cruz, highlights the challenges inherent in navigating cultural heritage museums, emphasizing that Indigenous peoples are at the forefront of overcoming these obstacles. Lonetree notes that Indigenous peoples assert their agency and reclaim their identities within curatorial spaces, shaping public perceptions according to their own perspectives.

Through their interactions, creations, and ongoing adaptations, Indigenous communities assert control over how their culture is displayed and presented. They have the autonomy to choose to collaborate with other museums or to operate independently. This assertion of autonomy is a powerful manifestation of Indigenous sovereignty, especially within an industry that historically denied them control over their own culture.

By acknowledging and supporting the transformative potential of cultural heritage museums, other museums and conservation efforts can take meaningful steps toward decolonizing their practices and ensuring a more equitable representation of diverse cultures and perspectives.

JAYLIN KIM/THE VARSITY

Malakai-Mavis

Museums are not inherently incompatible with Indigenous sovereignty. COURTESY OF SAJITH T S CC WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

November 12, 2024

thevarsity.ca/category/science science@thevarsity.ca

Engineering student Connor Isaac discusses sustainability and Indigenous empowerment in STEM

Insights from a student researching the intersection of engineering and anthropology

Stephanie Deng Varsity Contributor

Amid a backdrop of a growing collection of 3D printers, Connor Isaac recalled that he has always loved to create, whether it was 1000-piece puzzles or Lego. He grew up in the Walpole Island First Nation of Ontario, and after being drawn to the sciences in high school — and finding inspiration in Star Trek’s advanced technology — he gravitated towards engineering for its real-world applications.

When he was 16 years old, Isaac received a 3D printer and kickstarted a lifelong passion for creativity and construction. In an interview with The Varsity, he said, “When I was a kid, I would often play with puzzles, I would take things apart, [and] I would kind of just see how things work.”

Getting started:

Engineering and sustainability

After receiving a Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada Undergraduate Student Research Award earlier this year, Isaac spent the summer working on a research project with Professor David Sinton: the current Canada Research Chair in Energy and Fluids and U of T professor in the Department of Mechanical & Industrial Engineering.

During this time, Isaac worked on building an auto sprayer for electrolyzers. Electrolyzers use electricity to separate water into its chemical

building blocks hydrogen and oxygen — a reaction called hydrolysis — and is a promising option for producing sustainable energy. Isaac explained that the auto sprayer would increase repeatability of results and allow researchers to dedicate more time towards testing and processing data.

“The auto sprayer… was used to reduce the human time spent on spraying catalysts. So, the sprayer would [deposit] a liquid-suspended nanoparticle… onto a substrate layer… This nanoparticle-loaded substrate is the electrode where… [electrolysis] occurs in the electrolyzer cell,” he explained.

Manufacturing impact

Beyond focusing on carbon capture and conversion in his lab, Professor Sinton is also director of CANSTOREnergy, an interdisciplinary venture that brings together exceptional researchers across 11 Canadian universities alongside community and industry organizations.

The project’s focal point is to mitigate climate change while addressing social inequalities across regions of Canada — in particular, in Hamilton, Ontario and the Yukon. CANSTOREnergy focuses on how renewable energy storage solutions can be integrated into highly contrasting regions that experience varying energy resources and needs.

Project members work across three teams: Discover (led by Professor Sinton), Direct, and

Will tomorrow go Pakan (Differently)?

Science fiction through an Indigenous lens

Avery Murrell

Varsity Contributor

Cyndy Wylde’s short story Pakan (Differently) tells a dystopian account of three generations of Anishinaabe women. Originally published in French, the story goes back and forth between present-day and future Kepek — the word for Québec from Algonquin or Mi’kmaq languages — sharing the experiences of three characters — Kanena, Nibi, and Maïka — as they navigate the transition from daughters to mothers in a society that is hostile toward Indigenous peoples.

Pakan (Differently) is just one of the French-

Indigenous stories featured in Innu journalist and author Michel Jean’s 2021 anthology of Indigenous short stories, Wapke — meaning “tomorrow” in the Atikamekw language — which explores social, political, and environmental themes in a futuristic world.

Kanena (2022) Kepek is transformed after an unspecified global pandemic. The federal government has become increasingly authoritarian under the guise of maintaining public sanitation and the already vulnerable Indigenous population has been subjected to further discrimination and racism.

Mirroring the Indigenous experience before, during, and after the COVID-19 pandemic began, Indigenous communities in the story faced heightened vulnerability compared to others in Canada. They are more vulnerable to infectious disease due to long-established socioeconomic inequities, including limited access to health care, poorer access to clean water and housing, and higher rates of preexisting health conditions, according to the Canadian House of Commons.

These inequities originate from colonialism, which has subjected Indigenous populations to centuries of violence, racism, and discrimination within institutions, including residential schools and hospitals. In September 2024, the Canadian Medical Association, established in 1867 by 167 doctors in Québec City, acknowledged its role in upholding antiIndigenous racism in Canada with the operation of racially segregated Indigenous hospitals, wherein patients received poor care, experienced abuse, underwent experimental treatments, and were forcibly sterilized by Canadian doctors.

Kanena has become a tireless activist

Develop. For the next year, Isaac will be working on the Direct team with UTM anthropology professor, Tracey Galloway. The work will involve connecting with different stakeholders such as companies and community members in the Yukon to ensure CANSTOREnergy invests in broader societal interests.

Fostering a future of Indigenous accessibility in science

Apart from his enthusiasm for research, Isaac also strives to promote accessibility of various different fields to Indigenous youth. In addition to his research with Galloway, Isaac will be completing his third year co-op term back home for the governance of Walpole Island, where he hopes to ignite interest in the youth community by introducing an assortment of community activities.

Isaac shared, “I’m currently trying to look through various workshops that I can present to my Chief and Council, or even just run solo… of teaching good ideologies or kind of thought processes to tackle different fields.”

When asked about how it felt to be the only Indigenous undergraduate researcher in the Faculty of Engineering, Isaac noted, “It’s still not really kind of processing in my head that I am the only one, but I kind of want to see that change. I want to inspire more people, more Indigenous engineers, or even just Indigenous people in STEM.”

and educator for her community, fighting for confirmation and condemnation of the Canadian federal government’s committed atrocities against her people, and to stop companies from “inserting their gas and oil pipelines into Mother Earth.”

She characterizes an ongoing solidarity movement of Indigenous people who have long fought for their basic human rights, the protection of their people and identity, and the Earth. However, protesters and land defenders have continuously been subjected to surveillance and criminalization by the government for their outspoken activism, demonstrating the deeply ingrained colonialism that exists in Canadian systems in our current time.

Nibi (2042–2043)

Without ever having had sexual relations, Kanena’s daughter Nibi is shocked to learn that she’s pregnant at an Indigenous hospital. A service that Kanena initially supported, these hospitals were intended to return culture and dignity to Indigenous peoples’ healthcare. However, Indigenous people are unable to hold jobs in healthcare because of preexisting social and economic barriers. Thus non-Indigenous individuals filled jobs at the new hospitals.

Left feeling powerless and angry, Nibi doesn’t know what to do, as she cannot ask her mother for guidance. Then, Kanena went missing one day and despite Nibi’s persistence in seeking help, no one was concerned about the disappearance of an Indigenous woman.

Kanena’s disappearance is symbolic of the hundreds of cases of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls from the last 50 years that have remained unsolved, ultimately leading to an outcry from their communities and recognition of the issue as a “deliberate race, identity, and gender-based genocide.”

According to Statistics Canada, the number of Indigenous women killed between 2020 and 2023 was 794. The Canadian government’s lack of response to this issue reflects its oppressive colonial system.

Nibi’s daughter, Maïka, is born a year later, but will not be given Indian status because her father is unknown. Regardless, Nibi lovingly tells her that she will always be Anishinaabe.

Maïka (2063)

Maïka is the first character that we are introduced to, but Wylde provides no context about her character up until this point in the story. She was simply described as choking on water.

History has since repeated itself: Maïka is pregnant without having had sex. This time, however, a mother’s knowledge is present. Nibi knew that Indigenous babies were chipped at birth to ensure that a programmed pregnancy took place between the ages of 18 to 25.

Without a father of Indigenous heritage, these children are stripped of their Indian status — status for Indigenous women had been removed — freeing the government of their perceived economic burden on Indigenous peoples. Indigeneity could eventually be erased in the story’s ongoing genocide.

Devastated by this revelation, Maïka runs to “escape this terribly ugly world, a world where the government was again committing horrible acts for the sake of money” and falls into water, where she’s found choking at the beginning of the story.

Finding herself on the back of a turtle swimming in the ocean, she sees animals from her childhood holding soil, which she knows will soon be attached to the turtle to make a second Turtle Island — another name for North America. She will be the grandmother to a new human race. Despite the government’s refusal to recognize her status, she and her descendants will always be Anishinaabeg.

The first Turtle Island was beyond repair. Indigenous peoples, along with a collective of youth, scientists, and adults from around the world, have fought tirelessly throughout history to save the planet. The evidence is clear: the global temperature is rising, the ocean is warming, the ice is melting, sea levels are rising — the list goes on.

As Wylde describes, regardless of the signs of distress that the Earth showed, the humans would not listen. The world had to be made pakan, or differently in Atikamekw. If humans continue their extractive activities on the Earth, perhaps the planet will continue living. We just might not be on it.

Isaac is a student in the Department of Mechanical and Industrial Engineering at U of T. COURTESY OF TRISTAN MCGUIRK

Understanding the essence of our existence Reconciling contemporary, traditional, and neural conceptions of selfhood

Individuality and selfhood are difficult concepts to put into words. How does one define these terms? How are they perceived? These questions have greatly troubled psychologists and scholars throughout human history, as ‘selfhood’ and ‘individuality’ come with varying cultural and scientific connotations.

Perhaps one way to define selfhood is to consider contemporary hypotheses from psychology and neuroscience, in addition to traditional Indigenous perspectives. Such an amalgamation of two different schools of thought and practice — the former focused on individualism and the latter focused on communalism — might provide the context for how we perceive our own selfhood.

Selfhood in the brain: How do we produce ownership of our bodies?

Modern scientific conceptions of selfhood are primarily rooted in individualism. Rather than focusing on the collective experiences moulded by communal interaction, Western sciences perceive one’s individuality to be contingent on internal mechanisms: namely, the brain.

The brain is seen as the locus of one’s experiences and as such is capable of manifesting the recognition of the self and individual expression through basic cognitive processes. In exemplifying this sense of individuality, neural processes are therefore able to exert an overarching sense of ownership and control over one’s own body.

Damage or temporary changes to specific parts of the brain and its neural networks — networks of synapses and neurons — can affect our perceptions of individuality. Examples of neurologically-induced changes in individuality are out of body experiences, wherein an individual may feel as if they are observing themselves outside their physical body.

In a 2010 Consciousness and Cognition case

study conducted by the Brain-Mind Institute in Switzerland, researchers sought to analyze how “bodily self-consciousness” — in other words, the bodily perception of the self — might be impacted by the brain’s integration of external inputs, such as self-location, or where we experience ourselves to be located. They found that factors that impede the brain’s control over the body can lead to losses in individuality and self-perception.

The study’s subjects were two patients with epilepsy, who in a sense both felt disassociated with parts of their body. One patient noted that during an epileptic episode, he would feel as if his left side was under increasing pressure. The pressure was to the point that he felt as if a “stranger” was in control of his left side, thus leading him to believe that only his right side was functional and “his.” The second patient

How can we make robotics more accessible?

A new automated approach to designing robots inspired by paper-folding

Carolyn Liu-Kang Varsity Contributor

Creating a robot from scratch is a daunting task. For those without engineering experience, designing a robot might feel entirely out of reach. Even with the experience, it could take years of training, testing, and optimizing before a functional product hits the ground running.

Cynthia Sung — an associate professor in the Department of Mechanical Engineering and Applied Mechanics at the University of Pennsylvania — attempts to make robot construction more accessible by reimagining core robotics issues into engineering- and biology-based problems. On September 20, she showed U of T students how as part of the university’s Robotics Institute Seminar series.

From planning the path of an airplane to designing a robotic arm You wouldn’t think that paper folding could create a robot. Yet, the origami-inspired robotic designs — based on traditional paper-folding art — have the advantage of being lightweight and versatile, offering a unique solution to the classic issue of too much weight for the intended motion or speed. Sung uses thin sheets of plastic, folded like origami, to make the bodies of these new robots.

However, if we were to design an origami bot, we would have a hard time doing it with current

computation methods, as it would be a slower process and leave more room for error. Sung’s Robotics Lab has found a way to automate the design process from start to finish. She showed that designing a robotic arm can be simplified to a path-planning problem.

The engineering path-planning problem is assessing the most optimal way for something to reach a certain goal. It’s often programmed into self-driving cars. Finding a time-optimal path for a plane from point A to point B in three-dimensional space can be solved by connecting segments of straight lines and curvature movements, which are both automatable calculations.

Designing a robotic arm path, for example, can then make similar use of the optimization problem: where does there need to be a straight rigid link — joints between parts that do not move — and where can we put a rotational joint — one that can rotate freely? That is, for a robotic arm’s movement to be optimal, where should the various types of joints be to put the least amount of strain on each one?

The automation tremendously streamlined the design process. Using this approach in their algorithm, they were able to construct a four-legged robot that could roam around the Philadelphia sidewalk within a day.

Biology that inspires physical mechanics

Designing an energy-efficient robot is just as

also noted that, during an episode, he would experience such an intense numbness in his neck, chest, and legs that he was under the impression that he was losing all awareness in the lower portion of his body and felt as if he was a mere observer of his body.

As one can see, modern Western ideals are more firmly rooted in accounting for how selfhood manifests itself in each person. It wasn’t defined as a response to external inhibitions but a more individualistic, internal examination.

Selfhood in Indigenous Australian communities In contrast to Western science, Indigenous conceptions of selfhood and individuality adopt a more holistic stance, recognizing the importance of community and collective

experience in shaping identity and individuality.

Take the Torres Strait Islanders and Indigenous peoples in Australia, for example. These Indigenous communities see selfhood not as an individual identity but as an interconnected state of being linked with one’s community, one’s home, and one’s own sense of self-belief. However, Western colonization — and with it, the sense of Western individualism — disrupted this sense of selfhood for the individuals of these communities, disconnecting them from their cultural heritage rooted in kinship and land.

A 2022 International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health study — conducted by Australia’s National Empowerment Project, which aims to promote social and emotional wellbeing in Indigenous Australian groups — found that an acknowledgment of these non-individual aspects of selfhood can contribute toward a sense of agency and motivation for them to overcome colonial trauma, racism, and dispossession. In this case, Indigenous peoples’ perceptions of selfhood have now emerged as a means of rediscovering a close relationship with nature as well as a form of healing from the loss of culture, land, and people.

Understanding selfhood is, therefore, not merely a theoretical examination but a field that holds wide-ranging implications for our social wellbeing. Reconciling more Western examinations on the subject with existing Indigenous beliefs can help develop necessary cross-cultural approaches to ensure the efficient provision of mental health, education, and social support systems by prioritizing the variable culturespecific identities and contributing factors to selfhood. Thus, selfhood and individuality must be understood as more than singular or collective; they must be understood more fluidly to fully encompass the range of human experience.

important as its movement capability. Many animals for instance have energy-efficient systems through springs and energy storage. To reduce the demands of their muscles, many vertebrates turn to tendons and ligaments to store the energy generated by their contraction and relaxation as they move.

As it turns out, geometry can affect the stiffness of a system and therefore, how the energy is distributed.

Sung’s lab successfully modified their algorithm to leverage this insight, enabling energy conservation through the robot’s structural properties. With the algorithm taking inspiration from the geometry of a squirrel’s paw, their four-legged bot could be modified to grasp onto fake branches.

“This was really interesting from a point of view of robot design,” said Sung, “but how does this robot start to interact with [its] environment?”

Walking on terrestrial or lunar sand?

Initial studies performed on robots navigating on sand show that they can gather information about their surroundings through ways like measuring the force exerted by the ground onto the robotic foot. Roboticists are looking to implement this into their next-generation robots’ computational design, to make them adaptable to different types of environments. This has piqued the interest of NASA — who is funding the current work — in the hopes of sending some of these robots onto the moon to navigate alien terrains. Increasing the agility of these robots will ultimately help in answering a range of societal needs, including space exploration, surgery, and prosthetics. Breaking down the robot-constructing process is one step — and an exciting path to do so is being paved.

This is the Dynamic Origami Quadruped, or DOQ, created by the Sung Lab. COURTESY OF WEI-HSI CHEN, SUNG ROBOTICS LAB, UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA-ROBOT BY SUNG ROBOTICS LAB-PRINT

Anuraag Kumar Nair Varsity Contributor

JENNIFER AHN/THE VARSITY

Sports

November 12, 2024

thevarsity.ca/section/sports sports@thevarsity.ca

Varsity Blues Softball win back-to-back championships

Trakosas walk-off secures a third OUS title

Jake Takeuchi Sports Editor

On October 19, the Varsity Blues softball team won their Ontario University Softball (OUS) championship final 11–10, securing a walk-off win against the Laurier Golden Hawks at the Napanee Fairgrounds. The commanding Blues team capped off an undefeated playoff tournament, earning their second straight provincial championship and third since joining the OUS in 2002.

It was a long season for the Blues, who participated in the OUS regular season, the Canadian Collegiate Softball Association (CCSA) National Championships, and the OUS Championship, playing 26 games in a span of two months.

The Blues wrapped up their OUS regular season with a 12–6 record, finishing in first place in the East division on October 4.

Thanks to the team’s victory in last year’s OUS Championships, the Blues competed at the CCSA Nationals, held on October 11–13. The team travelled to Ottawa alongside the top eight teams in the nation to crown a national champion. The Blues faced off against University of British Columbia’s Okanagan campus, winning 6–5; against University of Ottawa, winning 10–3; and against Durham College, losing 6–13. The Blues finished second in pool play, coming from behind in both of their wins to secure a spot in the quarter-finals. Matched against the eventual silver medalists, Humber College Hawks, the Blues fell 10–2, and their dream of a national title came to an end.

Returning from Ottawa, the Blues played the final leg of their season from October 19–20, facing off against the top four teams from each OUS division in a bid for the provincial title. The Blues went undefeated in the OUS Championships,

defeating their 2023 final opponents, Western Mustangs, 3–1, and dominating the Queens Gaels 10–0. The offense continued to fire on all cylinders as they dispatched the Laurier Golden Hawks 10–0 in the semi-finals, setting up the Blues’ second consecutive OUS final.

What happened?

The Blues entered the game with a 13–14 record against the Laurier Golden Hawks, including a 10–0 blowout win in the semi-finals earlier in the day. The double-elimination format meant Laurier had an immediate opportunity to avenge their blowout loss. The Blues had conceded 25 runs in their two regular-season matchups with the Hawks this season, and the final promised to be a high-scoring affair. Before the tournament, the Blues had not defeated the Hawks since 2017.

Despite taking an early four-run lead in the first inning, the Hawks did not let the game get away, tying it up in the third. The Blues extended their lead to 8–4 in the fourth, but Laurier scored six runs in a row to take the first lead of the game, 8–10, heading into the seventh and final inning. Two runs down, it was do-or-die for the Blues. First up to bat, utility Janelle Hodge hit a triple before coming home on an error at third to narrow the gap to one. Infielder Shirley Chan then singled to drive in a run, tying the game. With momentum on their side, outfielder Isabella Trakosas walked off the game with a single, ending it 11–10 in dramatic fashion. Rookie catcher Alexia Verches was named Finals MVP for her performance, which included three hits, three runners batted in, and an inside-the-park home run.

“We tried to keep the team focused on what was immediately in front of them — the next pitch, the next at-bat, the next defensive play,” said

Taimoore Yousaf

Varsity Contributor

The Varsity Blues men’s basketball team met the Waterloo Warriors for the first time this season at the Goldring Centre for HighPerformance Sport on November 6. The Blues entered the Wednesday night matchup coming off a 114–41 thrashing of the Algoma Thunderbirds. Against a 1–2 Warriors squad, they were looking to win their third straight and stay undefeated at home.

What happened?

The first quarter started slow, with the teams trading jump shots and steals. The Blues played well defensively, packing the paint and racking up rebounds. The big man forward duo of Nigel Hylton and Lennart Weber were especially impressive in the first, where they suffocated opposing drives to the rim and combined for a Hylton steal with one minute left.

Veteran Iñaki Alvarez contributed five points in the first quarter, which was the beginning of a productive night for the guard as he dictated the offense well. The period ended with the Warriors leading 13–11.

The second quarter was when the game picked up steam. The Blues went to work in the paint and picked up free throws to chip at the Warriors’ lead. However, timely baskets from Waterloo guards Cristian Craciun and Rafael Llorin kept the Blues at bay.

With four minutes left in the second quarter, Blues forward Anthony Daudu made arguably the most important play of the first half. After a missed three-pointer, he displayed tremendous hustle to keep the ball inbounds, allowing forward Quarry Whyne to recover the offensive rebound. He then flipped it to Daudu, who drained a clutch three-pointer that tied the game at 23–23. It was his only three-pointer of the night, but Daudu was excellent defensively, chipping in seven rebounds, three steals, and two blocks. The three-pointer sparked an inspired run by the Blues, capped off by an Alvarez jumper to go into halftime with the Blues up 37–32.

The Blues came out hot to start the second half, with Alvarez running the offense and passing the ball well. Guard Simeon Jeffers made his mark with nine points in the third quarter — scoring 15 total during the whole game — including a beautiful individual layup with 30 seconds left.

The Blues built a 10-point lead, but the Warriors would then chip away at the score. Craciun continued his strong shooting performance from the field, and turnovers by the Blues allowed Waterloo to take the lead heading into the fourth quarter. From there on, it was a tight defensive affair that went down to the wire. With only a minute left in the game, Alvarez pulled down a crucial offensive board and then scored to cut Waterloo’s lead to just a single point, but his final jump would not go down, resulting in heartbreak for the Blues.

Head Coach Scott Aquanno, in an interview with the Varsity Blues media. “It means a lot to win as a first-year coach. We worked hard to implement our offensive and defensive approach, and had lots to learn about our players, the other teams, and the pace of the game at this level.”

In an interview with The Varsity, seventh-inning hero Hodge described the win as “unreal” and “crazy.” Reflecting on the team’s transition period for the team, Hodge said, “[At the start of the season], everyone was nervous. You [could] tell that we were playing nervous, but it was just an adjustment period.” Hodge credited Aquanno’s “structured” and “intentional” coaching style in his debut season for the team’s success throughout the season.

What’s next?

The championship win secures the Blues a ticket to compete at next fall’s CCSA Nationals. The Blues finished the season riding a sevengame win streak across all OUS competitions.

Ultimately, the Warriors had a better shooting night, particularly from three-point range. Waterloo shot 34.6 per cent of the attempts from the three-point line compared to 16.7 per cent for U of T. The game was dictated by runs as well as strong defense and rebounding for both teams — Weber finished with 14 boards. There were six different lead changes, and the two teams were tied on 10 different occasions throughout the match.

Pitcher Olivia Mather and utility Tala

earned OUS Team All-Star nominations.

The Blues have their work cut out for them in the off-season, as several key seniors, including Hodge, are leaving the team. “It’s always a bit weird when you lose your seniors… [but] I think the team’s in a good place. Our pitching staff is looking strong. Obviously, all the first years really excelled… so I’m excited to see what they do in their coming years,” said Hodge.

Aquanno voiced a similar sentiment to Varsity Blues News and said, “We are super excited to be returning to the [CCSA] Canadian Nationals next year as the OUS champion and look forward to seeing what this team can do. We have a very young team and hope to continue to build the program.”

“The goal of the team is to win nationals,” said Hodge. It’s clear that the Varsity Blues softball team are burning for their first-ever national title, and the back-to-back champions have something to prove next season.

What’s next?

The Blues looked to bounce back on November 9 when they played at the University of Guelph Gryphons. The Blues grabbed a convincing 85–68 road win taking their record to 4–2 in the Ontario University Athletics. The team will play the University of Windsor on November 13 at the Goldring Centre Kimel Family Field House as they look to continue their solid start to the season.

Rennie

Review: Diné is the key to victory in Rez Ball

Director Sydney Freeland’s film highlights Indigenous innovation and systemic issues on reserves

Aksaamai Ormonbekova Design Editor

Content warning: This article mentions substance use, suicide, and systemic violence.

This article contains spoilers.

Beyond the bold maneuvers on the court and callouts in Diné bizaad — the language of the Navajo Nation, or Diné meaning ‘the people’ — Rez Ball (2024) touches upon systemic issues Indigenous youth face while living on reserves.

Diné director Sydney Freeland’s film introduces a charismatic and emboldened team of young men — the Chuska Warriors — who navigate the tragic loss of their team leader Nataanii Jackson (Kusem Goodwind) while preparing for a nerve wracking regional basketball competition.

The narrative focuses on player Jimmy Holiday (Kauchani Bratt), who feels pressure as the team’s new leader to carry on his late friend’s legacy

Initially, I thought the film would focus on Jimmy’s perspective: instead the narrative is split into several perspectives — his teammates, his mother, and his coach — broadening our understanding of the various struggles that Indigenous peoples face. The team’s Coach Heather Hobbs (Jessica Matten) wants to change the team’s tense dynamic while contemplating whether to stay on the reserve or to pursue another career off reserve.

Jimmy’s mother, Gloria Holiday (Julia Jones) is a former high school basketball star herself. Gloria’s an unemployed mother with multiple

driving-under-the-influence records, who wants to improve her life by finding a job and sobering up.

In reference to Nataanii, Gloria tells Jimmy that “It’s not like he’s the only one. It happens all over the Indian country,” or when Jimmy’s best friend Nataanii says “Do you ever think about… getting out?” before taking his own life highlight how life on the reserve forces youth to mature faster due to exposure to alcohol and substance use, high suicide rates, teen pregnancies, as well as external discrimination by law enforcement.

Many of the actors in the film were first-time actors, but taking on Indigenous characters as Indigenous actors made it easier for them to adapt to their roles. First-time actor Jojo Jackson claimed that bonding with each other was natural as everyone was “in the same boat.” Jackson plays Warlance Yazzie, a gay, Two-Spirit powerforward for the Warriors.

In her conversation with Time magazine, Freeland said of the actors that, “These are rez kids… there are no doubles in this movie, these kids are all playing ball.” The film’s authenticity goes beyond casting an Indigenous crew, it also incorporates Diné’s language — a powerful aspect of the film in that it symbolizes a solution for their struggles in the season.

After constant arguments and fights, Coach Hobbs takes the boys on a team-building trip to her grandmother’s. The boys are tasked with rounding up Hobbs’ grandmother’s sheep that have broken out of the fence, allowing them to develop their teamwork. Jimmy comes up with the idea of using Diné bizaad to direct the sheep, and the team successfully chases the herd

back. The scene innovatively used Indigenous language and culture through a positive angle in approaching Indigeneity, which is not often seen in mainstream media.

The scene also added a twist to the plot: the rebirth of the team’s vibrant play and a new Diné bizaad-spoken tactic, which made their next moves unknown to the non-Diné bizaad speaking opponents. Calling the tactic ‘rez ball’, they would use it to dribble their way into the state championships.

As I watched the players shift and slide across the court, shouting Diné codes like ‘Hot Hand’ or

the shot when the doubts his mother instilled in him were coming back to him.

Miraculously, he proved those doubts wrong. Beyond the triumph of achieving a goal, this scene holds a deeper message for me; it’s about challenging and overturning the negative stereotypes often associated with Indigenous identities.

I hope that with the premiere of this film in September — along with movies like Killers of the Flower Moon (2023) starring Lily Gladstone, of Blackfeet and Nimíipuu heritage, and TV shows like the 2024 live action Avatar: The , in which Kiawentiio, born in the Mohawk community of Akwesasne, plays Katara — Indigenous cast members and Indigenous narratives become more common

Decolonizing the slopes and Big White Ski Resort Indigenous land rights and outdoor sports collide

Tian Tian Dong Varsity Contributor

The Canadian government’s colonization and oppression of Indigenous communities permeates into every aspect of life, including sports and recreation. The recent dispute between the Syilx Okanagan Nation and the Colville Confederated Tribes over Big White Ski Resort’s expansion plans highlights the ongoing conflict between Indigenous land rights and commercial development in sports.

Located near Kelowna in British Columbia, the Big White Ski Resort intends to double the size of its recreational terrain by adding ski trails, golf courses, mountain biking areas, and other winter and summer activities.

This expansion extends into the traditional territories of the Syilx Okanagan Nation, which is under the jurisdiction of the Westbank First Nation. However, the Colville Confederated Tribes contest that the expansion also falls under the Sinixt traditional territory and expressed hope to be represented. The Colville Confederated Tribes’ reserve is based in Washington state.

Both groups claim to represent the Sinixt people, but the Westbank First Nation Chief Robert Louie told CBC News that they are unwilling to allow “another group in the US” to represent the land, and Syilx Okanagan Nation executive council’s Chief Louie expressed concerns over excluding his nation from resources and consultation on the development when they consult other Indigenous groups.

The Sinixt in the US were historically relocated south after their reserves were not established in the Canadian portion of their territory, and were relocated to land away from their traditional hunting grounds. Jarred-Michael Erickson, chairman of the Colville Confederated Tribes, told CBC News that this disagreement “has been erasing [their] history and who [they] are as Sinixt people.” The Sinixt people consider themselves to be a transboundary tribe, and were recognized by the Supreme Court of Canada in 2021 as an "Aboriginal people of Canada."

Historical context on Indigenous land rights and treaties

Canada is renowned for its vast natural resources and expansive landscapes, which are enjoyed by all those who live in the country. Its national and provincial parks offer stunning spaces for hiking, walking, and camping, and many of Canada’s popular sports like skiing rely on the natural environment. It is, therefore, crucial to acknowledge the traditional Indigenous territories on which these activities take place.

Settlers’ colonization of the land to establish Canada in the mid-nineteenth century led to the expropriation of traditional Indigenous lands.

Following this, and especially after the federal government passed the Indian Act in 1876 — which was designed to control and assimilate Indigenous people into Euro-Canadian culture — lands traditionally owned by Indigenous communities have been exploited for commercial and economic purposes.

Treaties such as Treaty 6 — signed between the government and Cree, Assiniboine, and Ojibwe

leaders in 1876 — have allowed non-Indigenous settlers to displace Indigenous land ownership and exploit their resources from these lands.

Preserving cultural and religious identity

In 2017, the Supreme Court of Canada rejected a Ktunaxa Nation case against developers creating a new ski resort in southeastern British Columbia. The court ruled that public interest outweighs the religious rights of the Ktunaxa Nation, who strongly opposed the development because the area, known to them as Qat’muk, is home to the Grizzly Bear Spirit.

According to the Ktunaxa community, any development in the area would drive away the spirits, which are central to religious beliefs and practices. However, in 2020, the Purcell Mountains of BC, where the Jumbo Glacier Ski Resort was to be built, was transferred to the Ktunaxa First Nation for management as an Indigenous protected area.

For many Indigenous communities, a strong connection to their land is crucial to both their mental and physical well-being, whether that

be access to hunting grounds, or cultural traditions tied to specific sacred lands, as well as the preservation of their cultural identity. In this instance, the development of traditional lands for skiing disrupts Indigenous cultural and religious traditions.

The establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in 2008 was followed by Call to Action 91, which urged all sporting officials and event organizers to “ensure that Indigenous peoples’ territorial protocols are respected, and local Indigenous communities are engaged in all aspects of planning and participating in such events.”

Proper Indigenous representation must also be included in discussions regarding the use of traditional lands for all outdoor and indoor sports, as well as other recreational activities. For currently operating ski resorts, acknowledging the use of traditional Indigenous land and recognizing the history of the resort are important steps in addressing the long and complex history of colonization and exploitation of Indigenous lands.

Much of outdoor sports in British Columbia take place on unceded Indigenous land. LUCAS GARCIA VIDAL/THE VARSITY

VICKY HUANG/THE VARSITY

1. Superman’s real name

6. Diffident

11. Round

14. Horse-riding competition

15. Reputation

16. Female sheep 17. Flooded

18. Bee-related

19. Gun, in old gangster slang

20. *2010s game that has a protagonist named Guy Dangerous

22. Impotent

24. Scottish or Irish Gaelic language

25. Actress Gadot of Wonder Woman (2017)

26. Fashionable

27. *2010s game that was based on the joke: “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

30. When repeated, a phrase meaning “equally divided into two”

33. Renaissance, Victorian, etc.

34. Frenzy

37. Jump to conclusions, say

38. Seasonal worker

41. Hot spot

43. Fire (up)

44. Tone ____

46. One might be Irish or Indian

48. What 26-across has

50. *2010s game with over 17,000 levels

54. Responsibilities

56. Albanian unit of currency

57. Dwarf planet with a surface area comparable to South America

61. Seize forcibly

62. *2010s game that was originally named “Cave Game”

64. Watering hole

65. Take in

67. Reddish temporary tattoo dye

68. What one can determine by counting a tree’s rings

69. Contract for 52-down

70. American fur tycoon John Jacob ____

71. Plural suffix

72. ____ child

73. Ctrl + V

1. Container for fruit

Bring down

____ apple 4. Aretha Franklin 1967 hit song

Egyptian eye makeup

Sudden urge

Toronto’s ____ Street Station

Tennis player Świątek 10. Actor Robert of Goodfellas (1990)

11. Barney Stinson’s catchphrase on How I Met Your Mother

12. Tony, Oscar, etc.

13. Trivial

21. Psychological counterpart to “id”

Close

Mouth, slangily

Alternative to white or brown

Abbreviation with “truly”

Supplied

32. They’re most common in wrists, ankles, and hips

35. Alternative to hairspray

36. Christmas ____

39. Young boys

40. Zipper cover 42. Jerk

45. Audrey Hepburn movie My ____ Lady

47. Astronomical cover-up?

49. Hapsburg ruler Maria ____

51. South Asian language with more than 17 million native speakers

52. See 69-across

53. Hawaiian instrument, for short

54. Home to the Burj Khalifa

55. Consumption

58. Vents

59. Otherwise

60. To ogle at 62. Haunted house sound effect

63. Young boy 66. Retreat

Indigenous people in need of support can call: Indigenous student services at U of T’s First Nations House at 416-978-8227, or email at fhn.info@utoronto.ca, Indigenous student support specialist at UTM’s Indigenous Centre at 905-828-5437, Anishanawbe Health Toronto at 416-360-0486, Za-geh-do-win Information Clearinghouse at 1-800-669-2538, Indian Residential School Crisis Line at 1-866-925-4419 (available 24 hours a day), Hope for Wellness Helpline at 1-855-242-3310, Talk4Healing Help Line at 1-855-554-4325.

If you or someone you know is in distress because of the recent news about residential schools, you can call: Indian Residential School Crisis Line at 1-866-925-4419 (available 24 hours a day), KUU-US Crisis Line at 250-723-4050,

If you or someone you know, who identifies as a member of the 2SLGBTQ+ community, is in need of support: Call the U of T Sexual & Gender Diversity Office at 416-946-5624, or email at sgdo@utoronto.ca; Email LGBTOUT, an LGBTQ+ student organization at U of T, at lgbtout@utoronto.ca; Call The 519 at 416-392-6874 or email at info@the519.org; Call Access Alliance at 416-324-8677; Email Sherbourne Health at info@sherbourne.on.ca for 2SLGBTQ+ specific mental health services.

If you are concerned for your safety, you can also request for help from Rainbow Railroad at www.rainbowrailroad.org/request-help. For more resources, visit lgbtout.sa.utoronto.ca/resources-list/.

If you or someone you know has experienced antisemitism and is in distress, you can contact:

Hillel Ontario at counselling@hillelontario.org

Chai Lifeline Canada’s Crisis Intervention Team at 1 (800) 556-6238 or CIT@chailifeline.ca

Jewish Family and Child Services of Greater Toronto at 416 638-7800 x 6234

The Hamilton Jewish Family Services at info@hamiltonjfs.com

If you or someone you know has experienced islamophobia, and is in distress, you can contact:

Canadian Muslim Counselling at 437-886-6309 or info@muslimcounselling.ca

Islamophobia Support Line at 416-613-8729

Nisa Helpline at 1-888-315-6472 or info@nisahelpline.com

Hate Crime Reporting

Naseeha Mental Health at 1-866-627-3342

Khalil Center at 1-855-554-2545 or info@khalilcenter.com

Muslim Women Support Line at 647-622-2221 or gbv@ccmw.com