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Deputy Provost Dr. Janice Stewart pushes
for a UBC that’s a wonderful place to be
Isabella Ma Senior Staff Writer
Dr. Janice Stewart loves playing video games as much as they love studying them — more specifically, how societal norms surrounding gender and sexuality impact the way we play them.
“You could be in a game where you could be an elf … yet still, we bring in these gender norms and sexuality norms, and we reproduce them again and again,” said Stewart. “Even in places where you could be anything, it’s very difficult to break out of those cultural norms.”
Stewart’s research has found that even in games like Second Life — a virtual space where players can create an avatar for themselves and interact with other users and content — players reproduce norms through their avatars. And those whose avatars do not conform face greater difficulties forming friendships with other players.
“Second Life was really fascinating because it was the first big thing [and] millions of people were playing it at one point, but it really had that promise to be anything,” said Stewart.
“And yet, if you went in and you looked a little differently, it was much more … difficult to meet people and play it.”
In many ways, Stewart’s research values parallel the perspective they bring to their current position as UBC’s deputy provost. Their role consists of all things policy, administration and academic support. This includes overseeing faculty hiring and promotion, bargaining on behalf of the university, collaborating with the faculty association and providing “strategic leadership.”
“If you’re going to open up a space to new people, how do you make room for them, but also, how do you make it so that it’s a wonderful place for them to be?”
MEETING THE NEEDS OF THE TIME
on campus
Stewart loves teaching and research. Their work spans antiracist frameworks, post-modernist theory and psychoanalysis. But their interests also lie in faculty relations and UBC’s administration.
“I’ve really turned my attention to … the lives of my colleagues and to think about the challenges that they face in their jobs, how to streamline things, but also to be supportive to the president and to the provost at a broad level,” said Stewart.
“[I want] to help make UBC run as smoothly as it can, to make sure that we’re constantly thinking about the changes that we need to make.”
For Stewart, policies are not just unmoving words on paper — they are “living documents.” And these policies and documents must “meet the needs of the time,” whether it be through UBC administration considering if they are still appropriate or if they should
be changed or archived.
“What we do now might be really different than what we did 20 years ago when everything came in on paper,” Stewart said. “Do we still need that paper trail? Can we make moves to a digital [one]?” — Stewart described the strategy behind administrative policy as an “ongoing” process.
“Everything needs a refresh,” they said. For Stewart, this means a greater focus on decolonization and Indigenous engagement.
UBC’s Indigenous Strategic Plan was created in 2020 as a commitment to the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls’ Calls for Justice. The plan takes “a human rights-based approach to our Indigenous strategic framework” through a series of goals and actions informed by some of UBC’s Indigenous students, faculty, staff and community partners, according to the plan’s webpage.
“We want to be thinking a lot about the Indigenous Strategic Plan and trying to make sure that that work is showing up in all of the places that it needs to show up,” said Stewart.
When asked if there were specific policies they hoped to implement or tackle, Stewart said that it’s more about the “nitty gritty” details rather than the large-scale policy moves.
“I think this is really about the small incremental changes that adapt to make department facul-
ties run smoothly.”
CHALLENGING TRADITION
Stewart noted that one major carryover from their previous role as associate dean Faculty of Arts is ensuring university policies are “working in a playing field that is equitable.”
From hiring to promotion to tenure decisions, Stewart’s current work focuses on expanding these practices to become more inclusive and diverse.
“I think that work is extremely rewarding, it’s very near and dear to my heart … It’s just so key to the university becoming a great, expansive place that allows for all different cultures to participate.”
However, there is much work to do in the realm of equity in classrooms and academia. Stewart said that across disciplines, tradition remains steadfast and change remains uncomfortable, or even unwelcome. As reported by The Ubyssey in March 2024, marginalized faculty members in traditionally white and male-dominated fields are often subject to evaluation biases and, in turn, inequalities related to promotion.
To truly become a “world-class university,” tradition must adapt and new life must be breathed into UBC’s policies and practices. Stewart said this process “takes time, and it takes thought and it takes coming together.”
“We’re doing really well, and I think we need to just keep doing more, keep digging in.” U
“We need to just keep doing more, keep digging in,” said Stewart.
COURTESY JANICE STEWART
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UBC updates website to include land acknowledgement
Niharika Narang Contributor
On July 5, UBC updated its main website to include a land acknowledgement.
This change comes after archival studies masters graduate Morteza Rezaei reached out to UBC after learning the university did not include land acknowledgements on every affiliated website.
Rezaei said, in an interview with The Ubyssey, that as an international student, he didn’t know much about Canadian Indigenous communities until Musqueam Elder Larry Grant gave a land acknowledgment at a UBC orientation. Rezai said this orientation was the first time he learned about Indigenous peoples in Canada.
One goal of UBC’s Indigenous Strategic Plan is to facilitate and encourage UBC community members to be aware of the unceded status of UBC’s campuses. The footer of UBC’s website now acknowledges the ancestral and unceded territory of the Musqueam people and Syilx Okanagan Nation that the Vancouver and Okanagan campuses are located on, respectively.
Rezaei said some UBC subdomain websites, like the School of Information, already include land acknowledgements.
Rick Hart, UBC’s associate VP communications, said “these decisions must be made respectfully and in consultation with the representative communities, which is what we are in the process of doing,” in a statement to
The Ubyssey Hart also wrote that including land acknowledgements across UBC’s decentralized websites requires an update for all pages using UBC’s CLF (Common Look and Feel) design principle which
includes interface elemnts like colours, layout, buttons and menus.
“This is a complex endeavour. We are actively supporting website owners in their creation of land acknowledgements on an individual basis while we work through those
larger technical issues,” wrote Hart.
Rezaei said this “is a good starting point.”
“When there are some simple things you can do … just do it ... and try to make it better every day.” U
Student Discipline Report shows downward trend in misconduct
Armaana Thapar Contributor
Instances of cheating, plagiarism, falsification and sexual assault saw a decrease at both UBC’s Vancouver and Okanagan campuses, according to the 2022/23 Student Discipline Report.
This report records all cases of academic and non-academic misconduct that appeared before the President’s Advisory Committee. 2022/23 saw 69 cases, a decrease from the 2021/22 academic year’s total of 98.
DON’T OVERTHINK IT
Vice Provost and Associate Vice-President, Teaching and Learning Simon Bates said to “be cautious to draw too much inference from those numbers [in the report.”
Bates said there were a significant number of large misconduct cases involving multiple students during the COVID-19 pandemic, which inflated the number of previous cases.
Bates also introduced a new alternative path for accountability — a diversionary process which focuses on an educative approach to academic misconduct. He said this process only happens if the case is not “hugely serious” and both the student and faculty consent to going through that process.
“We’ve had over a 100 … diversion cases come through our academic integrity hub in the Provost Office,” said Bates. “And a good
number of those would otherwise have gone on to [the President’s Advisory Committee].”
Bates also said the report represents a “very, very small fraction” of students and “the vast majority of the students who study at UBC realize they are part of an academic scholarly [community] … which [values] acting with integrity.”
AI’S IMPACT ON CHEATING
ChatGPT was released in 2022, and though last year’s Student Discipline Report showed concern about the potential for academic misconduct increases, these concerns have not materialized.
Eighteen plagiarism cases were reported this year — twelve at UBCV and six at UBCO. This was slightly lower than the 2021/22 total of 24. Cheating cases have also decreased from 46 to 34, UBCV having 29 cases and UBCO having 5.
Plagiarism is the presenting of someone else’s ideas and work as
your own without giving credit. Cheating is providing or using unauthorized methods to gain academic credit.
There were four falsification cases, two at each campus. Falsification is providing false or incomplete information to UBC.
There was only one case of impersonation at the Vancouver campus, which involves pretending to be someone else in order to do work on their behalf. In 2021/22, there was also one case.
Bates said faculties have adapted to AI by altering their form of assessment.
“The challenge is how to incorporate them meaningfully into courses,” Bates said.
The Vancouver Senate has released draft guidelines to help professors and students navigate AI in the classroom.
“I think it’s interesting redesigning assessment [around] looking at the process of assessed work … rather than just assessing the final product.”
NON-ACADEMIC MISCONDUCT DECREASES
Sexual misconduct cases decreased from 15 to 8. These cases were violations of UBC’s sexual misconduct policy, SC-17, five of which were at UBCV.
Violations of UBC’s Student Code of Conduct, which refers to inappropriate, non-consensual or harmful behaviour, saw a decrease from four cases last year to three this year. U
To update all decentralized UBC websites, the university must update its CLF design principle, said Rick Hart, associate VP communications. AISHA CHAUDHRY / THE UBYSSEY
UBC Library introduces new rules for loans and fees
Fahmia Rahman Contributor
UBC Library changed its policies regarding fines, fees and loans for both Vancouver and Okanagan campuses.
The previous policy allowed undergraduate students a twoweek loan period for non-highdemand items, with graduate students allowed loans for up to eight weeks. Now, loan durations for non-high-demand items increased, and the new policy allows faculty, staff and students to borrow materials for equal amounts of time with three standard due dates per academic year.
In an interview with The Ubyssey, University Librarian Dr. Susan Parker said the new term loan system is an equity, diversity and inclusion initiative. The goal is to equalize library material ownership time while allowing students to keep items for longer periods without having to renew their loans.
“We’ve heard from students … worrying about renewing things on time,” said Parker. “We’d like [students] to have a better experience.”
Parker also said “a term loan is not a guarantee that [one student] will alone possess the book for the full term,” but rather a promise for term possession until “someone else makes a request
for it.”
The UBC Library’s policy on fines for overdue, high-demand materials has also changed. High-demand items refer to materials frequently requested, such as phone and laptop chargers and course reserve books. The previous policy mandated students pay $1 for every day (or hour, depending on the item) loaned material was late with a maximum fee of $30 per item. Parker said these
SAFETY MCSAFE FACE IS A CAMPUS CELEBRITY //
fines have doubled to $2 per day or hour with a maximum fee cap of $60.
This increase, said Parker, is to “make sure high-demand items are always available, rather than being in the hands of just a few …. [and to] incentivize people to return these things promptly.”
Parker also said fines for some UBC Library materials haven’t changed in 30 years, and the new increases are partially to help
combat the rising cost of books.
Along with fine increases, UBC Library has also resumed its annual suspension processes, which had been put on pause due to COVID-19. Students that fail to pay fines, return overdue items or who cause disruptions in the library will be subject to suspension of library privileges.
Parker said UBC Library is open to feedback and dedicated to helping its students. If the new
policies don’t work, “we want people to tell us so that we can change [them] accordingly,” said Parker.
Students can direct questions or comments to Associate University Librarian Aleteia Greenwood or Associate University Librarian and Director Julie Mitchell.
“Do not keep [any confusion or troubles] to yourself and avoid the library. Let us know, and we’ll try to help you.” U
2023/24 AMS Services Report shows 64 per cent increase in interactions
Viyan Handley News Producer
The AMS’s 2023/24 Services Report showed a 64 per cent increase in service usage, including at the AMS Food Bank.
This year’s report documented 36,546 user interactions in total across 6 services — down from 8 last year with the AMS’s discon-
tinuation of eHub and Housing Services. 2022/23 saw 23,417 interactions.
The AMS Food Bank remains the society’s most used service, representing around 69 per cent of all service interactions. The AMS made several changes in 2023/24 to accommodate its 64 per cent increase in usage, notably adding a walk-in fridge to help with
cold-storage space, according to AMS Senior Manager of Student Services Kathleen Simpson.
Simpson also said the AMS held recipe card competitions to bolster creative use of the ingredients offered by the food bank, conducted intake surveys to better understand client needs and gained a new sponsor, Acuitas Therapeutics, which covered some
of the food bank’s costs. According to Simpson, Acuitas Therapeutics will continue to support the AMS Food Bank in 2024/25.
Simpson also said one of the AMS’s biggest goals for the food bank is increasing how many people it can serve in a day.
“Finer adjustments [will continue to be made] throughout the year to make sure … we’re not hav-
ing to turn folks away at the end of the day just because we can’t serve them in that seven hour period [the AMS Food Bank is open],” Simpson said.
During the 2023/24 year, AMS Safewalk showed the most dramatic change of all AMS Services with a 440 per cent increase in completed trips.
AMS Tutoring’s usage increased 56 per cent in user interactions from the 2022/23 year.
Simpson said that in both 2022/23 and 2023/24 the AMS chose to target Safewalk and Tutoring services during Jumpstart since those are the services most applicable to incoming students.
AMS Peer Support noted record high rates of students reporting suicidality in 2022/23 — which have since plummeted. Disclosures of thoughts of suicide in Peer Support interactions dropped from 42 per cent in 2022/23 to 9 per cent.
Simpson said this decrease could be due to the national crisis hotline, 988, which launched last year.
Simpson said the service was happy to have been able to support the students that came to them.
“We’re super grateful for students putting their trust in us,” said Simpson.
Simpson also said the AMS is “excited” for September since the society can connect with and provide support to incoming and returning students. U
AMS Safewalk recorded a 440 per cent increase in completed trips.
ISABELLA FALSETTI / THE UBYSSEY
University Librarian Dr. Susan Parker said UBC Library is open to feedback on its changes.
ISA S. YOU / THE UBYSSEY
Revival of a dying dreamer
Ionce held dreams so close to my heart I grew intoxicated by the possibilities they offered me.
I’ve lived most of my life in a realm of dreams far from reality. Whoever I wanted to be, wherever I hoped to go — I believed that everything I desired awaited me, as if fate were fluid enough to encompass whatever I wished. There was a dream I believed in above all else. One destined just for me. Through realizing my gift I would gain a sense of purpose, a reason to live. I wish I could translate this vision clearly, but at its core, it’s nothing more than simply praying that my efforts are contributing to something meaningful, which in turn will give my life meaning. I think we all have something like this sitting in our back pocket — a dream we once hoped for, or perhaps still hope will come true. When this year’s Olympic Games
came around, something strange welled up within me as I watched Olympians live their dreams from the comfort of my couch. I realized that somewhere along the way, I had fallen far behind in the pursuit of dreams. What I once hoped for with the entirety of my soul had grown dormant, as I meandered meaninglessly through existence while those rare and true dreamers were busy working endlessly at turning their dreams to reality. Watching them live their dreams felt as if they were taking what was meant to be mine, or worse yet, that this was my own doing — that I’d let go of what could have been mine.
I’m not speaking of gold medals, but something much more important. I saw in an Olympian everything I
who, since birth, has had the means to nurture and realize their gift, who has had every piece fall into place for them to bring their dream to fruition. Someone who overcame every obstacle thrown their way to get to where they needed to go. I don’t see the gold medal as a signifier of being the greatest, but rather an indicator of someone who has fulfilled a vital element of their purpose — whose dream has attained the illusive title of reality.
In the face of greatness, I found within myself its polar opposite — someone who has a gift but is too afraid to believe in it, who has a purpose but is too easily distracted, who is hopelessly running through a maze and never reaching their destination.
thing else. On the surface, the Olympics made me feel like a failure. The competition, comparison and an idea of greatness epitomized in a gold medal made me feel like shit.
But I, too, live each day doing my best. I face an invisible competitor each day I wake up, as I hopelessly try to live up to impossible standards. My life consists of defeats and victories leading me towards something great that exists beyond any prescribed standard of worth.
And it’s okay that I’ll never receive a gold medal. I may never experience a moment that solidifies the realization of a childhood dream. I may never be the best, but I’m still standing with a smile on my face, treading towards my version of happiness. That must count for something.
Maybe that’s the only dream that has ever really mattered. U
Hoop, ball, clubs, ribbon, Nikolova
In rhythmic gymnastics, hoop is the first apparatus in the competition order, and the first you compete with as a young gymnast. Your hoop changes as you do — it is the only apparatus tailored to your height. You can choose the colour and design of your hoop at whim, changing with the trends, and when the hoop breaks, you start thinking about your next evolution, your next hoop.
Stiliana Nikolova, the 18-year-old competing for Bulgaria, waits for her name to be called. She looks young and scared — she wipes her hands repeatedly before grabbing her hoop. Then she salutes, marches to the carpet and begins her routine.
I have been watching Nikolova compete since 2022, when she became the European and World Champion. The whole world was watching. Here was this athlete who was reinventing the sport with her speed and artistry. She created skills that no one else was doing. So, naturally, I took inspiration and started doing them too.
By 2022, I had been a rhythmic gymnast for 15 years. I had competed for 12, of which 7 were at the national level. I was recovering from several injuries that I was pretending weren’t career-ending. I was losing love for the sport. Then Nikolova showed up and reminded me what rhythmic gymnastics could be.
I watched her Olympic hoop routine on my lunch break at work, barely blinking. She needed to qualify for the finals — I needed her to. She dropped her hoop. I turned off my phone.
Forsmaller gymnasts like Nikolova and myself, the ball is one of the most difficult apparatuses. Made of rubber, with a diametre of 20 cm and weighing at least 400 grams, it’s difficult to hold with small hands. It’s easy to drop, easier still to hate for dropping. Your ball score can make or break your competition.
Nikolova, with a red ball bigger than her head, commands the arena. Look at me, she says with her big smile. I could be your Olympic champion. She is fluid in her movements, moving with a tenacity some might call desperate. She wants this, and she won’t let it go easily.
In 2019, I competed in my first Canadian championships. I had completed a solid first routine, but now it was time for ball. I always hated ball. Think of what they are asking of you: take this bouncy thing that you cannot let bounce, this rolly thing you cannot let roll. And although it is nearly half a kilogram, you must throw it into the air to then catch in your legs, feet or in a single hand. You must display complete control.
words by Eliza Mahon | illustrations by Elena Massing
locked my nerves away and performed a routine good enough to make my competition. In 2024, I watched Nikolova, a very similar gymnast to me, lock her worries away and take back control over her competition with her ball routine.
Clubs are typically revered as the most dangerous apparatus in rhythmic gymnastics. Think baton, except you have two — they’re smaller, and you’re juggling them for almost your whole routine. They were my favourite.
Due to their difficulty, clubs can score the highest of the four apparatuses. Nikolova knows this — likely, a bit too well. Her focus slips, and she drops a club out of the bounds of the carpet. Big deduction. She drops again, and looks visibly in disbelief. How could this happen? Doesn’t matter — another deduction. And that’s it.
To qualify for a rhythmic gymnastics finals, you need to be the best of the best of the day. It doesn’t matter how well you have been doing — do it on the carpet today, or it doesn’t count.
I knew it, and Nikolova did too — it was done.
Ribbon is the apparatus that everyone associates with rhythmic gymnastics. It’s deceptively elegant — ask any rhythmic gymnast, and they will tell you how much their arms burn after a ribbon routine, how frustrated they get when their ribbon knots. Having good ribbon technique is an incredible bragging right in this sphere.
Holding back tears, Nikolova walks to the carpet. One last routine, nothing left to lose. She waits for the music, then bends the six-metre piece of silk to her will. She creates magic. She captivates the audience. She drops it once, but it doesn’t matter — she leaves it all on the carpet, and delivers a routine that she’s sure to be proud of.
When it’s all over, she takes a moment to wave to the crowd, thanking them for their time. She finishes 11th, tenths of a point away from the finals. She smiles, tear marks still hidden under her makeup. She hugs her coach. She thanks her competitors. That is the last time she steps foot on the 2024 Olympic carpet.
At those Championships, I wanted more than anything to have control — I
At the Canadian Championships, the same apparatus, even the same routine, can get you to top three or nineteenth, depending on the year. It can get you to the Olympic finals, or signal that your dream is over.
The Olympics celebrate the winners, but everyone else is so much more relatable. Here is a fighter, a young girl performing in front of thousands of people who want her to do something incredible. Here is someone who masks her tears with makeup and a smile, who has a job to do and a role to play. Here is Nikolova — the open book, the mirror. U
words by Justin Daba | illustrations by Elena Massing
You don’t need to be Elle Woods
Azquet Gomez Merlo Contributor
Azquet Gomez Merlo (she/they) is a third-year international student majoring in anthropology and art history. They are passionate about the possibility of connecting and relating to one another through writing, memory and experiences.
Picture this: A campus bathed in golden light, where the ivy-clad walls of the buildings capture the chatter of eager students while “Perfect Day” by Hoku plays in the background, echoing as a promise to whoever watches.
It’s a scene straight out of a Hollywood movie… literally from Legally Blonde.
This montage lived rent-free in my mind during my first month at UBC. I imagined this captured the essence of the university experience: A time of exploration and self-discovery — where my potential, determination and needs meet to create the future I’ve been dreaming of since my parents told me being a dragon was not an achievable dream.
My first class was in Buchanan B. As I entered the room, I was certain this was my Elle Woods moment, only my soundtrack was “Arráncame’’ by Marissa Mur.
I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement and anticipation. A nervousness weighed on my tongue every time I wanted to speak. I needed to translate my ideas in my head before speaking. At times, it felt like I was reading subtitles, adding a surreal level of unreality to everything I was going through.
The idea of being able to become anything I wanted was quickly confronted by an olive oil bottle. Not long after arriving in Canada, I went grocery shopping — and at the end of my trip, I spent over $140, or 2,100 pesos.
This was roughly equivalent to the same amount of money my family spent for two weeks’ worth of groceries at home. I had spent the same amount of money on groceries for one person as my parents spent for four people.
The pressure to find a job felt bigger and bigger as I walked to my dorm. Before, when I would hear a nagging murmur telling me I was not living up to my potential, or that I was wasting my time, I could always brush it off. It had only been one month, there was still time for me to acclimate into this new life.
A murmur became a scream in just one receipt. I couldn’t ask my parents for more money; they were already covering the hefty international student tuition. Before I knew it I was thrown into a whole different system. I didn’t have time to settle, adapt to the language or even understand the cultural barriers. There was rent, groceries, health insurance, medication for my ADHD and depression — which I still don’t have after a year and a half on a waiting list — and whatever else came up.
I felt estranged from everything surrounding me. I began scouring job postings, attending career fairs and reaching out to potential employers in search of opportunities to earn some extra money.
The expectations my parents placed on me were immense. With
the financial burden of international fees looming, there was a strong emphasis on academic success as a means of justifying the investment made in my education abroad. My success is not just an option, but an obligation to justify my dreams. Especially when my parents deemed art history and anthropology as two of the easiest majors. There was no excuse for me not to excel in my academic life. This meant that in the middle of lectures, assignments and exams, I also faced the task of preparing for professional life.
By November, I had polished my resume, learned about writing cover letters and the restrictions of working on a student visa and was always scrolling through Indeed. I read articles like “10 Ways to Get Hired,” “How to Write the Perfect Cover Letter” and “How to Deal with Eye Contact as an Introvert.” They often made me feel more anxious and overwhelmed. I became extremely aware of my accent, afraid of not being understood, but I also realized people sometimes concentrated on me being an international student. They often asked questions like “Where are you from?” or “Why study here?” Daily interactions felt like I was being interviewed and somehow needed to validate my reason to be here.
At the same time, I kept wondering whether I would be able to find a job that fit my schedule and allowed me to focus on my studies. Would my grades be impacted by the job I got?
The journey to employment isn’t just about securing a job — it’s also about navigating an intricate landscape of expectations and realities. However, as the rejections piled up, I couldn’t shake feelings of disappointment and guilt. It felt like I was letting my parents down and wasting their money by not securing a job directly related to my field of study. The pressure to fulfill their expectations, and my insecurity about my English, weighed heavily on me. Near the end of the second term, I had a group of friends and I started to notice subtle jokes about financial struggles, about not being able to afford food, skipping
meals because we were “broke” and questions of how to pay rent. The simple act of buying groceries felt like a luxury. The statistics of food insecurity at UBC now had faces. I can’t remember exactly when I stopped applying to jobs related to my major, but I couldn’t deal with more rejection. I was questioning my worth and place at this university. Everything I thought to be true about myself was shaken. I no longer had my best friend living less than 10 minutes away from me, nor my sister to tell me that everything was going to be okay. I was devoid of a sense of homeliness. What was wrong with me? Why weren’t people in my field hiring me? What was I doing wrong? Did I truly deserve to be here? What were my parents paying for? The pressure to secure internships and co-op programs felt suffocating, with the narrative of success being measured by immediate employability only amplifying these feelings.
It seemed as though the definition of achievement had been narrowed down to securing a job directly related to my field of study, even if it was only my first year at university. However, during the second term of 2024, I was selected for a five-week anthropological field school in Togiak, Alaska, alongside 11 other students. Not only was I excited to participate and learn during this experience, but I was wholeheartedly grateful to have been allowed to participate.
I re-watched Legally Blonde on my way back from Alaska. This time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Sure, Elle Woods’s journey to Harvard Law School was portrayed with humour, charm and Woods’s own struggles — but what about rent, groceries or the moments she learns how to live as an adult?
University life isn’t just about academic achievement and self-actualization; it’s about navigating financial responsibilities, managing living expenses, academic responsibilities, social connections and sometimes having to make sacrifices to make ends meet.
Welcome to UBC, Class of 2028
Ubyssey Editorial Board
You’ve probably heard it all by now — how first year was the best time of your orientation leader’s life, how the world opens up once you’re an adult and how your time at UBC is the perfect opportunity for you to learn who you are. Blah blah blah. Clichés suck!
In the middle of uncertainty, I clung to hope for any job I could get, with my guilt and feelings of unworthiness following. I tried to remember I would get invaluable experience and it would help me grow no matter what. I told myself I was not disappointing my parents for working in something that was not related to my major.
It doesn’t matter how many times I repeat this to myself — I often forget. I will not say the guilt is completely gone or that I don’t feel afraid of not making it in my field. Self-doubt is still there, but I am no longer expecting it to go away; I am still trying despite my self-doubt.
There are challenges inherent in university life we don’t talk about that often. The setbacks and moments of agonizing self-doubt and feeling like an impostor are some of those. Growing up is scary, overwhelming, ecstatic and disappointing all at the same time. It’s learning that maybe you should not buy that little $20 toy you saw at Indigo.
When we are thrown into the job market, we’re learning what it means to be an adult, and how to simply be a human in a world where people become commodities. You are not alone. It’s hard to find a job — to write 50 cover letters only to receive rejection letters.
Life is a more complex story than trying your best and getting an internship, graduating top of your class and winning a murder case as a first-year law student. While Elle Woods’s determination, resilience and authenticity is remarkable, Legally Blonde is just a movie. It is completely okay to struggle, to find yourself stuck and completely unaware of how to get where you want. Your life doesn’t follow a fictional plot line. You don’t need to be Elle Woods. U
This is a commentary article. It reflects the author’s personal experience and their views individually and does not reflect the views of The Ubyssey as a whole. Contribute to the conversation by visiting ubyssey.ca/pages/submit-an-opinion.
But the thing is, these clichés are true. At UBC, you’ll be faced with the realities of (drum roll, please): THE REAL WORLD, including finding your place in it. While you might be scared shitless to enter the dining hall for the first week or so and you’ll most definitely end up crying yourself to sleep your first night in your dorm because you’re absolutely certain you’ll never again feel the embrace of your loved ones back home (you’re just tired, get some sleep), you’ll learn and grow in unimaginable ways.
You’ll learn that failure is real (and completely okay). You’ll find your passions. You’ll make friends that’ll become family. You’ll join a club (or several) that you’ll never actually participate in. You’ll make memories in your residence commonsblock. You’ll point out someone in the Nest and say “That guy’s my opp!” to your friend, accidentally loud enough that they overhear you (true story — if you’re reading this: I’m sorry).
You’ll get rained on during homecoming. You’ll write for The Ubyssey (OMG, how’d that get in there…). You’ll break up, make up and (maybe) break up again. And you’ll most likely throw up in a bush, whether from stress, shots or a stomach bug.
Experiencing life is what university is all about. On a campus with a million different courses, clubs, cultures and more — you’ll find your people and you’ll find yourself. Learning who you are and what you care about is a big task — you might not complete it while at UBC, but it’s a place to start.
And if you need someone to rant to or celebrate your wins with, you have your community — and you have us: a newspaper filled with students trying to understand ourselves, just like you. Come visit us in room 2208 in the Nest.
Welcome to UBC, Class of 2028! In the famous words of Hannah Montana: “Life’s what you make it, so let’s make it rock!” U
“Your life doesn’t follow a fictional plot line,” writes Azquet Gomez Merlo. ISA S. YOU / THE UBYSSEY
Substance use disproportionately impacts Queer communities. What does that mean for UBC students?
With high risk of substance (mis)use in Queer communities and BC’s ongoing toxic drug crisis, Queer youth are left to navigate substance use and recovery on their own.
by Iman Janmohamed problem.”
This article contains mention of substance use, suicide and violence against 2SLGBTQIA+ communities.
“NO. I’M A TEENAGER. TEENAGERS ARE allowed to do this.”
That’s what Sylvie, now a UBC graduate student, used to say to their friends as a 16-year-old when they would ask them to stop drinking. Their drinking started off innocently — a bunch of high schoolers having some drinks together, going through what seemed to be a rite of passage. But it soon became what Sylvie described as “problematic.”
“I had people pulling me aside and being like, ‘Hey, do you want to maybe not be drunk all the time?’” said Sylvie,
whose name has been changed to protect their identity because of the stigma against substance use.
When Sylvie was 18, they started their undergraduate degree at UBC. Sylvie said they were “forced back into being a teenager,” since BC’s legal drinking age of 19 is higher than in other Canadian provinces.
“That made me do a bunch of crazy shit in order to get drunk or get high because I couldn't do it the normal way,” they said. “And then through that, I realized that maybe my relationship with substances is not normal or could use some re-evaluating.”
This pushed Sylvie, who is now part of the UBC student-created and run Student Recovery Community (SRC), to become sober for a month, just to prove to themself they “didn’t have a
“I did the one month, and I was like, ‘Okay, that actually was really hard.’”
And Sylvie wasn’t alone. Substance use isn’t uncommon, especially for university students.
According to a 2019 study on university students by researchers from the University of Toronto and Western University, 76 per cent of participants reported using alcohol or non-prescription drugs to cope with stress. Only six per cent said they used neither.
Research from the US National Institute on Drug Abuse shows that 2SLGBTQIA+ people have higher rates of substance use disorders than people who identify as heterosexual, with the Canadian Centre for Addiction and Mental
Health (CAMH) identifying isolation, alienation and discrimination due to homophobia as key factors for these higher rates.
Sylvie is Queer, which they say has influenced their relationship with substance use and feelings of isolation.
“I know for myself and for a lot of Queer people, substances help if you are closeted or you aren't sure about your sexuality or identity.”
Substance use can also impact Queer people's mental health.
A 2021 survey by the Trevor Project — a US-based non-profit focused on suicide prevention efforts in Queer youth — found that misuse of alcohol, cannabis and prescription drugs are associated with greater odds of attempting suicide in 2SLGBTQIA+ youth aged 13–24. The primary results from the survey also found:
• Regular prescription drug misuse was associated with nearly three times greater odds of attempting suicide;
• Regular alcohol use was associated with 50 per cent greater odds of attempting suicide in Queer youth under 21;
• Regular cannabis use was also associated with greater odds of attempting suicide among Queer youth.
With high rates of substance use in Queer communities and BC’s ongoing toxic drug crisis — which was declared a public health emergency in 2016 — many Queer youth at UBC and around Vancouver are left to navigate substance use and recovery on their own.
SUBSTANCE USE IN QUEER YOUTH CAN BE attributed to “structural inequities,” according to UBC PhD candidate in nursing and registered nurse Trevor Goodyear.
Goodyear, whose research explores the implications of substance use among 2SLGBTQIA+ youth, said structural inequities like sexism, homophobia and transphobia, intersect individual concerns like familial rejection, domestic violence and mental illness to create circumstances that can lead to substance misuse.
Both Sylvie and Goodyear said their Queer peers can sometimes turn to substance use as a coping mechanism because of the hardships they face. For UBC alum Rory Mills, that was the case — they used substances to self-medicate their anxiety and depression.
“I grew up [in] lot of very patriarchal environments. I was always told that I was a boy … so learning to find my own voice and my own story from within myself — it was different from other people's stories,” said Mills.
For Sylvie, substance use helped them cope with their feelings of isolation and difference.
“I know for myself and for a lot of Queer people, substances help if you are closeted or you aren't sure about your sexuality or identity,” said Sylvie. “I wasn't sitting there drinking because I was gay. It's just because there was something different [about me], and I didn't know what it was.”
If we're making spaces safer for Queer people, chances are we're also making them safer for everyone.
— Trevor Goodyear
For Mills and Sylvie, recovery from substance use meant acknowledging who they are.
“As a Trans person, I realized that emotion … and recovery kind of felt like the same thing,” Mills said.
withdrawal symptoms.”
THE SOUNDS OF THE NEST — FROM STUDENTS
grabbing coffee between classes to campus tours milling about — surrounded Sylvie in their first year as an undergraduate at UBC. They had been sober, but were struggling to maintain their sobriety.
“Everything you do in first year of university involves you being drunk,” they said. “I did the first few months [of sobriety] just by myself, which honestly, I don't really remember how I did that or how I managed to persevere.”
But while they walked up and down the Nest’s halls, they saw a poster that read: Are you a student in recovery?
“At first I thought it meant in recovery from … injuries, but it was about substances, and so that is how I got in contact with Sara [Fudjack].”
Fudjack is the founder of the SRC, an initiative that offers support through recovery meetings with students.
According to its website, the SRC “is a safe, welcoming, and inclusive space for students who are in recovery or curious about their relationship with alcohol, drugs, and/or addictive behaviours.”
One of those spaces is the SRC’s LGBTQ2S+ Students’ All-Recovery Meeting, a peerbased group for Queer students.
Goodyear said specific services that cater to Queer recovery are important for 2SLGBTQIA+ recovery.
“ ”
I wasn’t sitting there drinking because I was gay. It’s just because there was something different [about me], and I didn’t know what it was.
— Sylvie ” “
The university environment doesn’t make recovery any easier. Both Sylvie and Mills said the university environment encourages substance misuse. In a 2020 interview with The Ubyssey, Dr. Michael Krausz, a UBC psychiatry professor specializing in addiction, said university binge-drinking culture and increased stress levels could risk pushing students toward substance misuse or dependence.
“If you are totally stressed out and anxious, you may have problems [sleeping] and then you start drinking or taking benzodiazepines in the evening to calm down,” he said.
“It may help for a short period of time, but then it develops a dynamic on its own, so at some point, you are unable to calm down without [the substance]. Then, you may slide into dependence, which means you need to drink [or use] in order to avoid
“These programs can really be a safe haven and really meaningful place of support and belonging for folks who might not be able to find that community in the same way elsewhere,” said Goodyear.
Based on a peer-support, evidence-based model, the SRC seeks to empower students with lived experiences to support each other in a private and confidential setting. In 2021, after years of advocacy, the SRC opened a space on campus.
The space was an important step in ensuring students who have experiences around addiction and recovery feel welcome at UBC, said Fudjack in a 2021 interview with The Ubyssey
“I always knew that a dedicated space was crucial to ensuring that students in recovery and who experience addiction … feel included in a campus community,” Fudjack said at the time.
Sylvie said once the SRC had its own space, making connections with other students in recovery became easier.
“If you're already in a space where you know everyone else in it is there for the same reason — that removes so much small talk that you need to do in order to get to know someone better … That was really pivotal as well in just forming a community,” said Sylvie.
Sylvie said many Queer spaces are “very defined by substances or substance use.”
“Being in recovery can be very challenging because there aren't a lot of spaces that cater to Queerness and recovery,” said Sylvie.
For Mills, Queer recovery spaces like the SRC allowed them an “infinite potential to be vulnerable.”
This vulnerability is important — Goodyear said many Queer people go into service settings with a history of negative experiences or discrimination by different health care or social service spaces.
“Oftentimes, folks may have their guard up, and they anticipate facing that stigma or discrimination,” said Goodyear. “When we have peer workers or people with pertinent lived experiences working in these settings, these folks can really be a trusted support person.”
When Sylvie connected with the SRC for the first time after seeing the group’s posters around the Nest, they laughed — not because they thought recovery or addiction was funny, but because they felt part of a community.
“[There was] this relatability behind not being able to use substances like a normal person, kind of laughing about that instead of just treating it as this serious, somber thing.”
THE CONTROLLED DRUG AND SUBSTANCES ACT WAS introduced by the federal government in 1996 as Canada's drug control statute. On January 31, 2023, Health Canada granted BC a three-year exemption to the act, allowing the decriminalization of small amounts of certain illicit substances, such as heroin, morphine, fentanyl, cocaine, meth and ecstasy for personal use in private spaces, shelters, outpatient addiction clinics, supervised consumption sites and drug-checking service locations across BC.
Under this exemption, adults possessing illicit substances in accordance with legislation will not be arrested, charged or have drugs seized from them. Instead, they will be offered health information and referred to treatment and support if requested, according to the provincial government website.
More than 21,000 people have died from an overdose since BC declared the toxic drug crisis a public health emergency in 2016.
From January 1, 2019 to December 31, 2023, there were 126 unregulated drug toxicity deaths in BC of people under 19 years old, making unregulated drug toxicity the leading cause of unnatural death among youth. The exemption to the Controlled Drug and Substances Act does not apply to minors.
Goodyear said the prevalence of overdose-related deaths in BC means that many people “know of someone, has loved someone or knows a friend of a friend who has overdosed or … died of overdose.”
When it comes to advocating for better harm reduction policies, Goodyear said looking to the rich histories of 2SLGBTQIA+ activism is important.
“There's a lot that we can learn from and leverage from 2SLGBTQ+ communities in terms of making these policies better for us and really better for all people who use drugs,” said Goodyear.
Queer communities are disproportionately impacted by substance use and its associated harms. Goodyear said this means that policies must be equitable for everybody.
“If we're making spaces safer for Queer people, chances are we're also making them safer for everyone.”
When looking at supports for Queer youth who use substances, Goodyear said there is “a lot of good work underway in terms of making these services more accessible and safer and inclusive for all young people in this city.”
SYLVIE NOW FINDS THEMSELF, AS A PEER support worker and recovery meeting leader, a person Queer students can go to for support.
“I'll often have someone say, ‘Listen, I've never told anyone this before, but I feel this thing, or I believe this thing or I do this thing,’ and I get to be like, ‘Oh my god. I do that, too,’ and that relatability — the way that makes someone happy or makes them feel less alone — is the best part of my job,” said Sylvie.
“Queer people in recovery seem to like that there’s someone else Queer in recovery,” said Sylvie. “I’ve been in recovery for a really long time. Not that they should at all look up to me — I think that would be awful if they did — but that there is someone else who has done the thing that they're doing, who they can talk to about it and who would understand.”
Like Sylvie, Mills also uses their lived experiences to inform harm reduction initiatives in Vancouver. Mills works at The Birdhouse, a Queer and Trans-run events space, as a buddy. Buddies are naloxone-trained staff and carry supplies like bottled water, condoms, lube, snacks and tampons to support people in a nightclub environment.
“I view [the buddy system] as our entrance to someone … not feeling good.” said Mills. “They're not just going to get kicked out by security. We're there to help and figure out things, help their friends get organized, but also respond to emergencies.”
Buddies also can help patrons find a safe way home, according to a Birdhouse event posting.
“Immersing myself in the harm reduction world, also practicing harm reduction recovery on my own, was really awesome to … integrate myself in the community, but also see how it positively affected my recovery,” said Mills.
But recovery is more than just sobriety — it’s understanding yourself.
“A lot of people in recovery develop this general understanding that you have maybe an attraction to maladaptive coping mechanisms for whatever reason. You see people go into recovery for substances [but] doing something else to replace [substances],” said Sylvie.
“Recovery isn't necessarily you need[ing] to stop doing this one thing. It's about just getting a more holistic understanding of why you are doing certain things, and then trying to either change that, if you want to, or just be more mindful of it.”
U
— With files from Jocelyn Baker
It’s not too late to make your bummer summer a funner summer
Lauren Kasowski Sports + Rec Editor
So, you fucked up. There are less than two weeks until school starts, and you’ve spent the entire summer doing absolutely nothing. When you have to tell your classmates in intro to winemaking what you did this summer, you’re going to look lame as hell. You need fun, you need excitement and you need to make bad decisions that you’ll regret in 30 years.
Here’s what I would do if I were in that situation (which I’m definitely not).
START EASY
You won’t survive the two weeks of jam-packed Certified Fun if you just jump in full-throttle. You have to start slow — reduce your bed rotting time from 10 hours to 6. Swap Netflix for watching a movie in 67 parts on TikTok. Touch real grass. Then, when you’re only slightly dizzy from seeing the sun for the first time in three months, ramp up the intensity.
PARTY
Lady Gaga once said: “No sleep! Bus. Club. Another club. Another club.” In eight words, she established the order of events for an ideal night like Copernicus establishing the order of planets in our solar system.
Party all the time — on the
LET’S HACK YOUR LIFE //
beach, at that indie music festival, in the Ryan Reynolds bathroom at Glitch and every other important place. Legally, something fun has to happen at parties (don’t fact-check that). Plus, if the beat is always popping, then you won’t have to worry about the ever-impending doom of having to find a seat in IKB come midterm season.
BECOME A CERTIFIED OUTDOOR PERSON™️
Naturally (haha), your classmates will talk about their summer time spent in the wilderness since Vancouver is full of outdoorsy people. There’s an easy way to fit in and keep up with their stories. Try rock climbing, but don’t tell people how tall the rock was — just say that you climbed to the top! Step on a pebble and call it done. When they ask for the name of the mountain, make one up. They’ll feel inferior because you’re climbing rocks they’ve never even heard of. Brag about all that tension, belaying, V6 something-or-other. If that doesn’t work, go for a walk through Pacific Spirit Park and call it a “hike.” What’s the difference anyways? Nothing. Hikers are just trying to act all cool and mysterious going on their long walks. Now go pretend to be one.
MAKE MORE TIME
Two weeks is not enough time to live through an entire summer.
But since you only clued into that now, you should make more time by building a time machine to go back to the start of the summer. It’s not that hard. Wasn’t there a documentary about how Marty McFly figured it out? Time to get to work.
After amassing a bunch of screws (no one was even using those bikes anyway), 50 empty soda cans (major tummy ache) and a wee lawsuit (those stupid bikes), you realize that running face-first into the Engineering Cairn once does not make you an engineer.
You can barely fix a toaster, let alone build a whole time machine, silly! You just wasted a week on this idea and now you’re even sadder than before.
MAKE UP FOR TIME
Now that you only have a week left, the only option is to do everything all at once. Repeat it in your head — you can do it all. Paddle boarding while scrapbooking on your way to a farmer’s market after going to a rave is now your new everyday.
IF ALL ELSE FAILS…
At the very least, you’ve learned you can’t be at 100 per cent 100 per cent of the time. You have to balance all this pulsating brat summer energy with something more demure, more mindful. Try a guided meditation or picking up trash on the beach (since being eco-conscious is very demure). Neither will make you cool, but was anything on this list going to? Whatever you do, you gotta get on it right now — you’re already wasting time! U
Filling the void DIY YouTubers left in my back-toschool season
Long ago, back-to-school season was a time of
Elita Menezes Humour Editor
Long ago, back-to-school season was a time of magic and wonder. Now, looking at my drab Walmart binder and blank pencil case, I see that time is over.
Gone are the days when DIY-ers on YouTube would teach us how to glow up for the first day of school, even though they were like, 23 and
we were 12. Who will influence me to ruin my notebooks by painting the covers to look like bathroom tiles because my mom wouldn’t let me get marble-print adhesive paper? Who will show me wildly overstocked locker inspo with 18 containers, magnet pencil holders and shelves that my mom also wouldn’t let me get? Well, the answer is right in
front of us. When no one more qualified will do it for you, you do it yourself.
SCHOOL SUPPLIES THAT AREN’T BORING
Time to get out your notebooks, pencil cases and hot glue gun. If you don’t have any of those things because you take notes digitally
and no one really has a hot glue gun sitting around anymore, fear not — this hack is universal.
Take your notebook or your $1,000 laptop and cover it in dollar-store glitter. Glue is optional because the glitter will stick where it wants to — aka everywhere. It’s the perfect low-effort DIY that will withstand the first day of classes, midterms, finals, graduation and probably the explosion of the sun.
IN-CLASS SNACK HACK
Have you ever been sitting in a lecture, craving an entire box of unsalted crackers? …No? Okay, pretend for a second because they’re the only thing in my pantry. You can’t eat a whole box of crunchy crackers in class without having an awko-taco moment. Taking a page from one of the classics, this relatable issue has a solution.
First, you’re going to acquire a glue stick. Now, scrape out the glue. Tip from my eight-year-old self: mix it with eraser shavings to make a slime-esque substance. Next, take your crackers and smash them into crumbs. Shove the crumbs into the empty glue stick and cap that bad boy up. Now, when you’re in class and you want crackers, simply uncap your glue stick and pour some right down
your gullet! Sure, everyone will think you’re eating glue — and depending on how well you cleaned out that stick, you might be. But remember to be yourself, glue girl, no matter what the haters say.
MAKE YOUR CRAMPED APARTMENT CUTE AF
How can you have an aesthetic school year if you don’t have a home straight out of an early 2010s YouTube thumbnail? Make sure your light bulbs are bright and warm so everything looks oversaturated. If your dull thrift-store decor ruins this for you, don’t hesitate to bust out those Dollarama paints! Neon pink, neon blue and neon orange all work, but brat green is really in right now and it’ll look just as dated as those neons in a few years. The glitter from the first hack will also add a fun touch to your furniture, pillows, walls, water supply and more — talk about two for the price of one! Go forth and listen to royalty-free pop music as the masters once did in their temples of millennial teal. Stick out your tongue and make peace signs as you show an imaginary camera your new-andimproved items. Let the nostalgia drag you by the infinity scarf into this semester. U
magic and wonder.
ELITA MENEZES + EMILIJA HARRISON / THE UBYSSEY
Anti-Queer rhetoric is on the rise. UBC Athletics’ Pride Night is trying to change that
Since 2018, UBC Athletics’ Pride Night has been a chance for the department to show support for the Queer community. But with the rise of anti-2SLGBTQIA+ rhetoric in and outside of sports, what does this allyship mean and what impact does it have?
words by Iman Janmohamed
War Memorial Gym comes to life on Pride Night — rainbow flags line the court and flap with the breeze and Thunder, UBC’s mascot, hypes the crowd, adorned with a rainbow cape, to get fans’ blood pumping. Volleyball fans in colourful outfits cheer after every point, their pride flags waving in unison.
This is no ordinary volleyball game.
Similar to football’s Homecoming or hockey’s Winter Classic, volleyball’s Pride Night brings fans together for a night of exciting sport. But Pride Night is special — while it strives to increase awareness and acceptance for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community at UBC, it also serves as a fundraising opportunity for Queer support initiatives across Vancouver.
With the rise of anti-2SLGBTQIA+ rhetoric nationwide and in sport governing bodies, like the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics (NAIA), what impact does UBC Athletics’ allyship have on UBC students?
Though Pride Night has become a staple at UBC, it isn’t too old.
In 2018, after two years as the men’s volleyball head coach, former UBC coach Dr. Kerry MacDonald spearheaded Pride Night alongside a former UBC men’s volleyball team member who was involved with the Vancouver Gay Volleyball Association (VGVA).
MacDonald, who was interested in giving back to the Vancouver volleyball community, held skills clinics and wanted to bring the VGVA to campus, so MacDonald and the VGVA brought the idea of Pride Night to a “very, very receptive” UBC Athletics. Pride Night was intended to create community with the sport in Vancouver.
“The sport can be played in all sorts of silos ... but the commonality is a love for the sport,” said MacDonald.
“Our big intention was this trying to bring people together around a mutual love of a sport and trying also to shed some light and some awareness.”
In a 2020 interview, UBC men’s volleyball head coach Mike Hawkins told The Ubyssey that Pride Night draws more people to volleyball games than regular fans.
“There were a lot of people there that I hadn’t seen before,” said Hawkins. “I think people, especially in this city and in this university, enjoy those opportunities [to celebrate Pride].”
Hawkins said Pride Night aims to show the community that sports can be a safe environment for Queer people. “I think it’s naive to think that there aren’t LGBT people in sport,” said Hawkins.
A 2020 study found that 48 per cent of Canadian youth who come out are subject to homophobia, slurs and/ or bullying. Statistics from Out on the Fields, the largest study on gay athletes, found that 81 per cent of gay men and 74 per cent of lesbians stay closeted while playing youth sports.
MacDonald said he hopes Pride Night and similar initiatives show prospective collegiate athletes that being Queer shouldn’t hinder them from following their dreams.
“My hope is that … [athletes] feel and they see that this is an open and a safe environment,” said MacDonald.
+ Lauren Kasowski | design by Lauren Kasowski
UBC women’s volleyball head coach Doug Reimer said Pride Night is an opportunity for the teams to celebrate wins made in Queer spaces while educating themselves in what needs to be achieved.
Reimer also said that Pride Night connects the varsity volleyball teams to campus and community groups fighting for Queer inclusion in sport and beyond such as the UBC Pride Collective and the VGVA. The 2024 Pride Night also served as a fundraising opportunity for Qmunity, a Vancouver-based nonprofit dedicated to improving the lives of 2SLGBTQIA+ people.
exactly started the initiative, he said it was a simple decision.
“I can’t tell you the origins exactly, but … why wouldn’t you do that? Pride Night is one night, but we need ways to be more inclusive … It’s just showing on a regular basis that we can do small, simple things [for] awareness, education.”
“Our team has always wanted to create an inclusive environment.”
— Kacey Jost, women’s volleyball libero
And when it comes to sports addressing initiatives of equity and inclusion, Reimer said the recognition of sport teams and athletes has the power to raise awareness.
“For so long, and it still continues, we have seen [sport as] not necessarily always the safest space, and you see this in sporting culture without question around the world,” Reimer said. “We have to … be role models in that regard and recognize that we have a lot of learning to do.”
Managing Director of UBC Athletics & Recreation Kavie Toor said when MacDonald brought the idea forward, “it was met with nothing but wholehearted support.”
“My approach with all the initiatives have been around partnering, engaging staff, giving them the support and resource and energy to really feel like they’re championing these initiatives because they feel like it’s the right thing to do versus it coming all top down,” said Toor, who is also the Canada West equity, diversity and inclusion vice president.
UBC women’s volleyball libero Kacey Jost — who has been on the volleyball team since 2018 — said she has felt this same energy.
“I think the overarching acceptance and feel for the night has been nothing but overwhelmingly positive, I think, in part due to the fact that our team has always wanted to create an inclusive environment,” she said.
Reimer said that university athletic team fans, athletes and coaching staff change over time, which allows UBC volleyball’s initiatives of Queer inclusion and recognition to be an ongoing process.
“It’s not like you can cover this one time and expect that the work is done,” said Reimer.
Reimer said addressing Queer communities in sport, whether that’s through inclusive policies or amplifying marginalized voices, can be achieved through consistent and regularly occurring initiatives, like Pride Night.
“We’ve had reach outs from individuals that just very much appreciate that they see our athletes and our coaches involved in Pride Night,” said Reimer. “Even just the simple thing of having a pride flag on some of our … gear [gives] at least some sense of support or recognition that … sport [can] become a little bit [of a] safer space.”
And it’s not just team gear or the annual Pride Night that allows for recognition of Queer communities by the volleyball program. The women’s volleyball team’s official Instagram posts always have a progress pride flag beside the Thunderbird logo. While Reimer couldn’t recall who
Toor said “sport can be a real powerful tool to influence positive change, but you have to be really intentional about being able to use it.”
“I think the impact [of Pride Night] has been rich and powerful,” said Toor. “I think the reason that has been that way is that our student athletes really take value in their leadership role that they’re playing. Our coaches and staff also do the same.”
Pride Night has been a huge success for UBC’s volleyball programs. Since 2018, the average attendance for volleyball games has surpassed that of sports like hockey and soccer.
However, according to a 2019 study, 46 per cent of Gen Z sees special Pride items or promotions from a business as a marketing tactic — commonly known as “rainbow-washing.”
“[It] certainly is coming pervasive in sport community
that you see themed events across the sport sector and [think], ‘Is there a risk that these events are really for show versus for substance?’” Toor said.
But for Jost, the night is much more than potential rainbow-washing because of how the team addresses it in the locker room.
“It’s really easy to have events like this and sort of throw up a little bit of a holler and a hoot and be like, ‘Hey, great Pride Night,’” Jost said. “But I think the importance behind it too is the educational side where as allies, you have to be able to educate yourself and understand why you’re doing something so that your actions mean more than just a performance.”
Jost also said the women’s volleyball coaching staff asks the team to understand the why behind the team’s support for Queer people and initiatives. “I think we’ve
seen the trickle down effect that it’s had,” said Jost.
And MacDonald agrees. He said the safe space that Pride Night aims to foster — on and off the court — is clear in how athletes interact with Pride Night. MacDonald said athletes have expressed “powerful, heartfelt messages and signs of support” regarding pride.
“This isn’t lip service. This is real, and they really feel this way and they feel the support and they want to show support,” said MacDonald. “I’m just really proud of the department and of the athletes and of coach Hawkins and coach Reimer and their continued support.”
Toor said Pride Night isn’t just a “one-off” for UBC Athletics, rather it is “committed to creating inclusive and welcom[ing] spaces through sport.”
Toor is referring to the department’s EDI values outlined in one of their six strategic objectives. Among diverse employee recruitment and retention and employee education goals, UBC Athletics also wants “equity deserving groups [to] feel welcome and are active participants in A&R programs and facilities.”
One of the key performance indicators for the EDI objective is the plan to “increase the number of partnerships in support of affinity groups and programs by 50 [per cent].”
In September 2023, UBC Recreation introduced a swim session for 2 Spirit, Trans and Non-Binary (2STNB) individuals which was met with positive responses. The department also offers a 2STNB fitness hour, as well as Women Only (Trans Welcome) hours.
Currently, Pride Night is UBC’s only varsity fully themed festival for a social justice issue. Some pre-game warmups feature initiatives such as breast cancer awareness or Black History Month, but these never extend into the gameplay. However, Toor said they are looking to incorporate more social justice initiatives into their programming.
“We are looking at extending the suite of offerings to again continue to use sport as a powerful agent for positive change,” he said.
One night of a welcoming atmosphere isn’t likely to bring about substantive, cultural shifts — that lies in the administrative details.
“If we want to bring meaningful change, we have to change our policies,” said Toor.
Toor said that all student athletes have a code of
conduct “that has some elements that cover inclusivity” and all new staff must complete training on creating a welcoming and inclusive environment.
However, a written document does not always translate into a change in practice. A code of conduct does not prevent sanctioned behaviours; it just outlines the consequences of being caught. A larger, more thorough conversation needs to be had — one Jost said is happening.
those required.”
VC “prohibits discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression” and “believes that trans athletes should have equal opportunity to participate in sport and strive for excellence.”
“Sport can be a real powerful tool to influence positive change.”
— Kavie Toor, managing director of UBC Athletics & Recreation
“It’s really easy to have someone type out a policy and what they want to do but I think overarchingly, UBC Athletics and then the teams themselves are doing more,” Jost said. “I obviously can’t speak to other teams, but I know that we all early on set the tone of what we are expected to be a part of and what we want from our team.”
Jost also said that policy changes can be muddied by needs for a department’s neutrality on subjects such as homophobia, but that at UBC Athletics, “there has been an avoidance of neutrality.”
“[It’s] more of a ‘We need the standard and this is the standard that we’re following,’” said Jost.
When it comes to coaching, Reimer said the key aspect of the job is leadership. Reimer said EDI policies, including the national volleyball governing body Volleyball Canada’s (VC), are important to expose coaches and athletes — who will “be the future coaches” — and raise awareness for Queer issues.
VC is a leader in policy regarding homophobic language and anti-homophobic and transphobic actions. In 2020, it became the first Canadian national sport body to release guidelines for clubs and provincial and territorial governing bodies on what 2SLGBTQIA+ discrimination looks like and how it affects athletes. VC also has a Trans Inclusion Policy. Approved in 2019, the policy said athletes can participate in competitions for the gender which they identify with “and not be subject to requirements for disclosure of personal information beyond
Despite inclusion policies, anti-Queer discrimination is still prevalent.
“In Canada, the United States and the world, [you] see so many examples of legislation that are making life and sport harder for people that identify as Queer,” said Reimer.
In January, Alberta Premier Danielle Smith said hormonal treatment, puberty blockers and gender-affirming surgery for children 15 years and younger will be prohibited. Additionally, parents must provide permission for their children aged 15 and under, to use names other than their birth name at school. The Saskatchewan provincial government passed its Parents’ Bill of Rights, which requires consent from a parent or guardian “when a student requests that their preferred name, gender identity, and/or gender expression be used” at school, and New Brunswick changed provincial policy to no longer mandate teachers to use the preferred pronouns or names of Trans students under the age of 16.
These discriminatory ideas still prevail at UBC.
In April, the NAIA announced that beginning August 1, Trans women will not be allowed to compete in women’s competitions.
The UBC track and field, golf, baseball and softball teams compete under the NAIA league.The Humans Right Campaign, an American 2SLGBTQIA+ rights organization, responded to the ruling calling it “discrimination” and “dangerous.”
U Sports, Canada’s university sport governing body, which other UBC teams, including volleyball, compete under, said in April to The Ubyssey it is not intending to revise its policy in response to the NAIA’s change. In 2018, U Sports announced its Transgender Athlete Policy, which states that Transgender athletes can compete under either their gender identity or their sex assigned at birth.
In an August 26 statement to The Ubyssey, Toor wrote UBC Athletics values all student athletes and “prides itself on … providing an environment where trans, non-binary and gender-diverse members of the UBC community have a place and feel welcome and supported.”
When asked if UBC will continue to participate in the NAIA after the association’s new policy, Toor did not answer but said UBC Athletics “will continue to evaluate the impact of this decision informed by core principles of fairness, equity and safety.”
“We remain committed to supporting all of our student-athletes in and out of competition.”
Despite this decision, UBC Athletics tries to champion 2SLGBTQIA+ rights at Pride Night.
“I’m just really proud of the department to continue to make [Pride Night] an emphasis,” said MacDonald. “[Pride Night] has a far deeper purpose and meaning than just sport, which I’m really proud of.”
And when it comes to the impacts of Pride Night, Jost and Reimer said that the initiative, above all else, allows people to learn.
“I’ve just seen … some of the discrimination [Queer people and athletes face],” said Reimer. “I’m learning, and I want to try [to] just open up that space for others to learn as well.” U
photos by Nathan Bawaan, Miriam Celebiler, Iman Janmohamed, Ryan Neale + Isa S. You
UBC medical students call to ‘resuscitate’ emergency medicine system in crisis
When Faye checked into the emergency department (ED) with severe dehydration last year, all the beds were full.
Faye, a UBC computer science student whose name has been changed due to privacy concerns, had realized the night before that something was wrong — their muscles were weak and sore and their urine was dark brown.
Patients filled every seat in the Vancouver General Hospital waiting room, some in visible distress. The staff, while quick to help once they realized Faye’s case was urgent, were clearly overextended.
“I felt like I was slipping through the cracks — there wasn’t a bed for me to crash on so I was in a bed in the hallway,” Faye said. After two hours, Faye was diagnosed and treated for rhabdomyolysis, an uncommon condition that causes your muscles to disintegrate. Left untreated, it can lead to kidney failure and death.
While at first Faye felt frustrated by the ED staff’s brusqueness, they understood that it wasn’t the workers’ fault — the ED doctors and nurses were exhausted too.
“They are trying their best,” said Faye. “There are so many people here and the staff are just trying to get people through … they have the right to be burned out and pissed.”
According to UBC medical student Adrianna Paiero-Keeler, BC EDs are experiencing record levels of overcrowding and understaffing. Paiero-Keeler is part of a group of UBC medical students advocating to the provincial government for policies and funding to ease an emergency medicine system in chronic crisis.
The group, called the UBC Medicine Political Advocacy Committee (PAC), wrote a policy paper called “Enough Waiting: A Call to Resuscitate BC’s Emergency Departments.” They presented it to BC Health Minister Adrian Dix in Victoria on March 4. Medical students like Paiero-Keeler are graduating into the frontlines of a crisis, and everyone knows it.
FAMILY DOCTOR SHORTAGE
Faye would have preferred to see a general practitioner given their symptoms instead of waiting at the ED. But, like 18 per cent of BC residents (per the 2019 census), they don’t have one. For students, that statistic is even greater.
According to Paiero-Keeler, students transitioning into adulthood, and away from the clinics that saw them grow up, are left with a gap in their health care team.
“That transition is something that we specifically learn is really, really difficult,” she said. “That means that we have a lot of unattached students.”
Second-year psychology student Kaela Branson is one of them.
She described the struggle of hav ing to fill in each new health care provider on her medical history, which includes mono, strep throat and multiple concussions.
“When I’m going to rehab for my concussions, they’re asking me the history of my concussions and what my doctors prescribed for me, and all this stuff. And I don’t know, because it’s been from eight different places,” said Branson.
Without a consistent family doctor, Branson has had frequent ED visits over the past two years. She said she once waited for 11 hours.
According to the Canadian Institute for Health Information, 9 out of 10 Vancouverites wait for less than 3.5 hours in ED for an initial assessment if they aren’t admitted. Patients with symptoms that warrant admission end up waiting much longer with 9 out of 10 visits completed in 55 hours.
Patients aren’t the only ones struggling under the family doctor shortage. A 2020 study found that a staggering 86.1 per cent of Canadian ED physicians met at least one of the criteria for burnout — and that was using data from before the COVID-19 pandemic.
Medical students entering the field are keenly aware of the stress they’ll be under.
“Speaking to people who are in third and fourth year and hearing stories of them … having to tell someone that they have stage four cancer … in a corner where everyone can kind of hear the con versation, I know it’s going to be challenging,” said Paiero-Keeler.
“I’m probably going to have to go home and decompress and reflect to be able to care for my own mental health.”
SWIMMING UPSTREAM
ED staff in mental health slumps themselves are also often caring for patients experiencing mental health struggles.
Many of their crises could have been averted by earlier and more accessible care. According to Paiero-Keeler, mental health support is one of the biggest things governments can do to take the strain off of EDs while improving public health.
“Mental health [crises] and suicidality … are often going to the emergency department,” said Paiero-Keeler.
The report recommends extending MSP coverage beyond psychiatry to include counselling. She highlighted mental health care for students and youth as a specific priority.
On the other end of the age spectrum, investing in senior care can ease both EDs and the quality of life of elders and their families. Paiero-Keeler said that older people often go to EDs for treatment for acute health issues, but EDs don’t have the beds or the funds to
provide the longer-term care they need.
The report recommends creating a program, modelled after similar ones in Ontario and Alberta, to bridge EDs with community support services to provide seniors with care and a place to stay.
ADDING TO THE TEAM
Addressing the doctor shortage also starts with simply training more doctors.
“What we’re seeing right now in BC is that we’re not graduating enough doctors,” said Paiero-Keeler. A new medical school will open at SFU next year, but Paiero-Keeler said it’s not enough, considering the growth in the region.
The provincial government controls enrolment spots. Funding more medical school spots also requires making sure there are enough residency spots for physicians to complete their training and making sure that students are incentivized to become family doctors.
Fortunately, UBC has seen success in filling its family medicine residency spots, welcoming 186 resident family doctors for training across BC last year.
EDs and medical care are also not distributed equally. In Northern BC, a wave of hospital closures during a heat wave prompted protests in July. Health care in rural areas and Indigenous communities have been disinvested in for years, according to research from the UBC faculty of medicine.
UBC Med PAC also recommended shifting to a state funding model that pays hospitals per patient, called “activity-based funding,” which is common in almost every other universal health care system. This would incentivize hospitals to provide more care, while ensuring that they have the funding to match each patient.
POLITICAL ADVOCACY
The UBC Med PAC met with 40 members of the Legislative Assembly in March with their recommendations, who Paiero-Keeler described as “very receptive.” As the provincial elections approach in October, all eyes are on candidates’ health care records and proposals to deal with the crisis while preparing for an expanding population.
“I have a strong belief that it’s all of our responsibilities to read up on different platforms of
people and vote according to our belief and trust in that entire platform and their capacity to achieve that goal,” said Paiero-Keeler.
The ER crisis is also inseparable from other issues, including the housing and toxic drug crises.
In a 2023 article, a member of the Hospital Workers’ Union told Global News that street sweeps and decampments of unhoused people harm their health, putting more strain on the care system. While doctors don’t usually deal with politics, when they impact public health, Paiero-Keeler sees an overlap.
“[We’re] seeing a lot of emergency room doctors actually standing up and speaking out, because they’re like, enough is enough, and if we don’t get involved it is going to continue to get worse.”
With the provincial elections coming up in October, Paiero-Keeler recommended keeping your health care priorities in mind as you’re voting.
“Medicine shouldn’t be political. But it is political, because it’s funded by the government, right? Anything that’s funded by the government has to be political, because they hold the purse strings.” U
words by Tova Gaster illustrations by Emilija Harrison
In
photos by Saumya Kamra
CROSSWORD PUZZLE
COLOURING
1. Thick slice
5. Meander
9. Relaxing resort
12. Sabrina Bryan’s (of the Cheetah Girls) birth name
13. Capital of Vietnam
15. Salute
16. Work without 17. Sleek swimmer
18. Region 19. Chowder cracker
21. He wants your wood in his mouth
23. Terminates 24. Wayne precursor
25. Breastbones
1. Sp. ladies
2. An unincorporated community in KillarneyTurtle Mountain municipality. (That’s in Manitoba.)
3. Cain’s brother
4. Energy cell
5. Bishop’s ex-wife, not his New Girl
6. Garfunkel and Hall’s buddy
7. Hill dweller
8. French winery
9. Subcontinent shawl
10. Artist Mondrian
11. Winglike parts
14. Where a former
28. Distance across a circle
33. Follows orders
34. Autograph
35. Periodic movement of the sea
36. Acronym for the second Legend of Zelda game
37. A kingly anagram of horde and rohde
38. Initialism of an American university
39. Joint with a cap; 41. ___’acte; 42. Tools for duels; 44. Tranquillity;
