November 21, 2023 — In Other Words

U THE UBYSSEY

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 | VOLUME CV | ISSUE X CRITICAL SPIRIT AND JUICE SINCE 1918

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AMS midterm reviews

Dr. d’Entremont teaches the art of the possible

UBC’s selective solidarity

Jokes for gamers

Football wins Mitchell Bowl

NEWS

FEATURES

OPINION

HUMOUR

SPORTS

In Other Words Language Supplement // 7-16

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NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

WHO’S WHO AT UBC

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OUR CAMPUS

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THE UBYSSEY

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 | VOLUME CV | ISSUE X

EDITORIAL

BUSINESS

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Dr. Ramón ‘Arturo’ Victoriano unveils lost Dominican voices

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ON THE COVER COVER ISA S. YOU & ANYA A AMEEN

Dr. Victoriano is devoted to unveiling the isolated Dominican narrative of the 1960s.

Stella Griffin Staff Writer

Dr. Ramón “Arturo” Victoriano has been teaching at the university level for 30 years.

“I’m a recovering lawyer,” he joked.

He used to teach criminal law theory in the early ‘90s in the Dominican Republic at the Universidad Católica Santo Domingo. Then, in 2001, he moved to Canada.

Victoriano decided to switch careers because after moving to Canada he would have to restart his schooling almost from scratch if he wanted to practice law, he said.

“I always wanted to teach literature,” said Victoriano. “It was an easy decision [to shift careers].

It was a somewhat easy transition.

It took me years to learn how to write as an academic, and not as a lawyer.”

As a professor, Victoriano is interested in meeting Dominican students to build up the Dominican community at UBC. “Come to my office, we’ll have coffee,” said Victoriano. “I would love to meet Dominican students.

There are not many of us here.”

Victoriano’s research interests lie with the literatures and cultures of the Hispanic Carribean

with an emphasis on race, gender, national belonging and the diaspora. At UBC, he teaches about Spanish and Latin American pop culture.

Currently, Victoriano is teaching Spanish language courses in addition to a Latin American literature in translation course.

But his favourite course to teach is on short stories of the Hispanic Caribbean.

“I like to teach that course a lot … it allows me to teach Dominican literature, Cuban literature … we have a lot of fun with that class,” said Victoriano.

Victoriano’s day-to-day has him teaching and researching.

After his classes, he does “some grunt work” for his current project — a book about Dominican literary works which have been lost and muted in history.

“That’s why my eyes are glassy, [I was] staring at a PDF looking for pieces on Dominican literature criticism,” Victoriano said.

Dominican storytelling isn’t just what Victoriano teaches, but also what he researches.

After the American invasion in 1965, the authoritarian government terrorized and dictated the Dominican Republic by administering war against the left political party, said Victoriano. This disruption has neglected the analysis

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of Dominican literature leaving decades unaccounted for.

“I’m working on ... a very, very violent compulsive period in Dominican history,” said Victoriano.

Victoriano’s research looks at Dominican magazines, novels, novels, poems, short stories and cultural essays that haven’t been analyzed because of tumultous periods of Dominican history.

“I’m trying [to] make sense of this big thing that I have … and I’m trying to find something that connects them right at the beginning,” said Victoriano.

When drafting his project, Victoriano follows a plan he has spread across his office wall, working toward tackling different sub-categories in each chapter. In particular, he is keen on showing the similarities between different works through political context.

“I’m trying to find what brings these these works together,” said Victoriano. “I think it’s resistance towards the political situation that is happening.”

Victoriano is devoted to unveiling the isolated Dominican narrative of the ‘60s, recovering and analyzing lost artifacts from a preserved time capsule-like state.

“The message that I’m trying to get across?” asked Victoriano.

“Dominican literature is worth reading.” U

NEWS

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITORS AISHA CHAUDHRY + RENÉE ROCHEFORT

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NEW EMERGENCY NUMBER //

Canada launches nationwide 988 crisis helpline

NEWS BRIEFS

Maya Levajac Staff Writer

Renée Rochefort and Aisha Chaudhry News Editors

On November 30, the 988 mental health crisis line opens across Canada, which aims to help reduce barriers to mental health and suicide resources in the country.

Dialling 988 will connect users to a free mental health crisis or suicide prevention services, available in English and French 7 days a week, 24 hours a day.

The service will connect people with responders with specific training in mental health crisis intervention and counselling.

988 has been under development for several years. On July 24, the Canadian government put $156 million toward the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, the organization selected to lead the 988 service.

“The 988 crisis helpline is a fantastic step towards ... Canadian society taking a more serious perspective on the current mental health crisis that we are facing,” said VP of social affairs at the Psychology Students Association Alex Barbu, a fourth-year psychology and sociology student.

Barbu said accessing mental health support will be “as simple as dialing a three-digit number.”

Kimia Nouhi, a fourth-year behavioural neuroscience student who is the co-president and

AMS PRESIDENT ANOUNCES LEAVE OF ABSENCE

Dialing 988 will connect users to a free mental health crisis or suicide prevention services and will be available in English and French 24/7.

co-founder of the Humanities in Healthcare club, said long wait times for mental health care are “frustrating” and often an obstacle for those trying to receive support.

Students have experienced wait times of up to a month or longer for mental health services

at UBC Student Health Service.

Nouhi hopes the crisis line “reduces barriers.”

Nouhi appreciates that the service is free, highlighting that many students face financial struggles when trying to access mental health support.

“If you’re struggling with

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the simplest needs like food, you probably don’t have enough resources to be accessing mental health services. The fact that it is free will really benefit some people,” said Nouhi.

Nouhi believes having access to the 988 service as students will “be a game changer.” U

20/50 VISION //

Land Use Plan update proposes to add 20,000 new living spaces by 2050

Central campus will see the most upcoming change.

Josh Bradbury Contributor

UBC released an updated land use plan at the October Board of Governors meeting which would add 9,500 neighbourhood housing units, enough to house 20,800 people, by 2050.

The Land Use Plan, last updated in 2011, is the regulatory document outlining UBC’s long-term intentions for the Point Grey campus. All land use decisions made by UBC must, by law, be consistent with the plan.

Central campus will see the most upcoming change. The existing Thunderbird stadium is to be

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replaced with housing neighbourhoods and a new replacement stadium to be built on East Mall.

The area around the existing Thunderbird stadium will be rezoned from ‘Green Academic,’ meaning areas consisting of outdoor open space, to ‘Academic,’ a classification given to areas intended for research and teaching buildings or housing.

The plan aims to add 20,800 neighbourhood housing spaces, which consists of market rental, leasehold ownership and non-market rental housing, but does not include student housing.

Michael White, associate vice president for Campus + Community Planning, said consultation has shown the greatest community concern is housing.

“The biggest priority we heard was the need for more housing and housing affordability,” said White.

The planned neighbourhoods, Stadium and Acadia, and the expansion of Wesbrook Place and Hawthorn Place will look very different to the existing campus resident neighbourhoods.

The current tallest building is 54 metres in Hawthorne Place, but new buildings will reach up to 105 metres and 84 metres in Stadium and Acadia, creating an extra 7.1 million square feet of gross buildable area for residences, a 76 per cent increase.

The plan also committed to housing 25 per cent of the full-time student population on campus, which could increase to 33 per cent depending on available funding, sites and demand.

However, the plan has been publicly criticized by board member Charles Menzies on social media for being “a real estate profit plan that will make Vancouver’s developer class happy.”

According to Menzies, who is also a professor of anthropology at UBC, the amount of usable neighbourhood open space (UNOS) in these new developments could be up to 50 per cent lower than under the current Land Use Plan provided there is “appropriate resident access

to UBC-owned open spaces and facilities.”

White said this was just one measure of open space which does not account for open space in other areas of campus, and the headline UNOS figure, which is comparable to other municipalities, has not changed.

In a statement to The Ubyssey, Menzies wrote “housing on campus should be 100% oriented toward faculty, staff, student housing.”

Only 40 per cent of this new capacity is guaranteed to be rented to the UBC community.

White said there would still be 3,300 new student beds as a result of the plan, an expansion of the discounted faculty and staff rental program, which offers around a 20 per cent rent discount and an expansion of the rent-geared to income program.

Menzies has also criticized other areas of the plan, specifically the name of Acadia being chosen for the new residential neighbourhoods due to its colonial implication.

Menzies wrote UBC is excluding “significant Indigenous communities that aren’t title holders under the campus.”

White said concerns around the name Acadia were not raised during the consultation UBC undertook with First Nations Groups before publishing the proposed plan, but said the university is “looking into that now.” U

AMS President Esmé Decker is taking a leave of absence starting November 13 with no set return date.

In a press release, Decker wrote “serving as the President for the Society has been an incredible honour.”

“However … I have been facing several personal and professional challenges and it is important for me to prioritise my physical and mental health and take a step back from the role at this time,” wrote Decker.

She is the second AMS executive to go on leave this year after VP External Tina Tong went on a leave of absence in September. Tong is expected to return to her position in January.

VP Academic and University Affairs Kamil Kanji will serve as acting president while the AMS begins its search for an interim president.

MAN SENTENCED TO THREE YEARS IN PRISON FOR FATAL 2021 NW MARINE DRIVE CRASH The driver responsible for the Northwest Marine Drive crash which killed two UBC students has been sentenced to three years in prison.

Tim Carl Robert Goerner, a student at UBC, was driving between 100 km/h and 120 km/h in a 40 km/h zone.

At around 1:45 a.m., his car veered off the side of the road and fatally struck Evan Smith and Emily Selwood.

Following a year-long investigation into the crash, Goerner was charged by the University RCMP on two counts each of impaired driving causing death, dangerous driving causing death and impaired driving, totalling six charges overall.

On October 24, Goerner pleaded guilty to two counts of dangerous driving causing death.

Judge Glenn Lee agreed with the joint submission from both the Crown and the defence, sentencing Goerner to three years in prison, followed by a driving prohibition of five years.

UBC AND STUDENT UNIONS FACING CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT FOR ALLEGED ANTISEMITISM Diamond & Diamond Lawyers has filed a $15 million class action lawsuit against UBC, the AMS, the Graduate Student Society (GSS) and the Student Union Okanagan (SUO).

The lawsuit alleges the university and its students unions have failed to address, investigate and provide adequate training and resources to deal with antisemitism at UBC, violating their “policies and procedures with respect to antisemitic incidents on campus.”

In a statement to The Ubyssey, Darryl Singer, head of class actions at Diamond & Diamond Lawyers, wrote “there is a double standard applied when it comes to the various policies on speech and conduct at the universities, in particular the utter failure of the institutions to enforce their own policies to protect the safety of Jewish students and eliminate criminal hate speech against Jews.”

The AMS and UBC declined to comment. U

4 | NEWS | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

MIDTERM REVIEWS Words by Aisha Chaudhry, Bernice Wong, Fiona Sjaus, Iman Janmohamed, Isabella Ma, Nathan Bawaan, Renée Rochefort Photos by Isa S. You Your AMS executives are halfway through their terms. This year so far has seen executives face success and challenges. Two executives have taken leaves of absences, AMS policies faced widespread student criticism and quorum was not met at the Annual General Meeting. During their campaigns, executives promised to improve the student experience on issues from affordability to transparency.

The Ubyssey spoke to all five AMS executives about what progress they have made on their goals and what they intend to accomplish through the rest of the academic year.

President Esmé Decker Before her leave of absence, AMS President Esmé Decker had been learning on the job as she worked to accomplish her goals around relationship building with student groups and transparency — though her priorities related to food security remain uncompleted.

While Decker had been successful in partnering with some student groups so far in her term, her handling of the review of PC1 and PC2 , respectful workplace and sexualized violence policies, worsened already poor relations with the resource groups and other student advocacy groups. The president had seen more success in the area of transparency by ensuring Council updates are as specific as possible, and said she planned to address more of her food security and other priorities in the remaining five months of her term. As she is now on an indefinite leave of absence, the timeline of completion for these remaining goals is unclear.

VP academic and university affairs Kamil Kanji Halfway through his term, VP Academic and University Affairs Kamil Kanji has focused on affordability and harm reduction. He secured $500,000 for student mental health coverage and $50,000 for the AMS Food Bank from UBC. Kanji has not included sexual violence prevention in his executive goals but said he is advocating for sexual violence prevention on the policy committee for the revision of Policy SC17, UBC’s sexual misconduct policy. Going forward, Kanji is looking to increase financial aid for international students and increase access to UBC’s emergency housing bursaries. Kanji was also appointed acting president after AMS President Esmé Decker went on a leave of absence effective November 13 with no set return date.

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY | NEWS | 5

VP finance Abhi Mishra VP Finance Abhi Mishra came into office promising to strengthen the financial system and improve long-term funding for the AMS Food Bank. This year’s AMS budget projected a deficit of $738k, a reduction compared to a near $850k deficit last year. Mishra said his goal is to address the deficit through a long-term strategic plan. However, this year, all AMS businesses have lost money — except for Blue Chip. One of his most notable accomplishments addressing this goal has been the implementation of a new funding model for the AMS/GSS Health & Dental Plan. This accounting model removes the AMS’s liability for deficits and moves the organization into a lower-risk insurance framework.

VP external Joshua Kim, Tina Tong Interim VP External Joshua Kim and VP External Tina Tong, who announced her leave of absence in September, have worked towards the goals of affordability, accessibility and transparency. The external office has advocated the provincial government for a non-repayable food security grant, increasing the BC Access Grant, expanding the Residential Tenancy Act and annual funding for sexualized violence prevention offices on campus.

But progress has been slow. While the goal to cap international student tuition was rejected by the provincial government, the office has successfully implemented the Summer Transit Subsidy and expanded the exemption eligibility of U-Pass. Going forward, the external office plans to continue advocating for these goals in upcoming lobby weeks.

Tong is expected to return to office in January.

VP admin Ian Caguiat VP Admin Ian Caguiat ran on a platform of sustainability, community engagement and inclusion. His ambitious and broad on-the-ground approach has led to results, though many of his initial action items remain in progress. Caguiat has been a proponent of building off exisiting initiatives. So far, a successful clubs day and expansion of student services in the Nest have been highlights of his term. His goals were adjusted at the beginning of his term after criticism from AMS Council over their financial feasibility, but most are now on track within their proposed budget. U

CULTURE

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITOR ELENA MASSING

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I NEED SUBWAY GIRL’S CONFIDENCE //

Anything for Fame dives into influencer mentality Tanushi Bhatnagar Contributor

If you have ever doomscrolled on a social media app, consider yourself a victim of the attention economy.

Thirst-traps, stunts, fake news and controversies — the time you spend scrolling on social media is a currency that these apps and influencers thrive on. But how much are influencers willing to risk for your attention?

UBC film grad Tyler Funk had that same question. This issue became a reality for Funk when his close friend David, who loved to seek attention with his outrageous stunts, lost his life by jumping off a bridge.

A few years later, Anything for Fame was born, with Funk at the helm as its writer and director.

The documentary features five influencers who have broken social norms and done “anything for fame.” From climbing the Golden Gate Bridge, to being a full-time Onlyfans creator to shock-value Vine-like comedy — these influencers go to the extremes of creating content on social media to earn validation through likes and followers.

The documentary follows a three-part storyline. It’s a look into how creators and influencers think, showcasing their highs, lows and the challenges they face.

“People don’t just reject all the

rules of society without some other stuff going on. Some people are so quick to write off influencers as young dumb kids. For some people … it is a cry for help. For other people it is more just pushing that fine line of entertainment,” said Funk.

Sometimes I come across a TikTok that makes me think, ‘what drives these people?’ — this documentary certainly answers that question.

Funk’s choice of influencers featured in the documentary may not be a complete representation of all social media creators, but aptly captures the essence of being both a product and a consumer. The creators provide vulnerable facts about themselves — some of which may not be for the faint of heart.

Anything for Fame explores themes of imposter syndrome, loneliness, dissatisfaction and mental and physical loss as a creator.

It also dives into the effects of extreme, attention-driven behaviours on not just the creators themselves, but also the people who interact with them and those inspired by them.

Just when you think you know enough about what goes on behind the scenes, the film peels back yet another layer, unravelling this complex influencer phenomenon.

It’s like you’ve been placed directly inside the minds of these influencers and are taking in the good, the

Anything for Fame is a look into how creators and influencers think.

bad and the ugly of it all — and you can’t take your eyes off of it.

According to Funk, the documentary is meant to simulate your Instagram feed. It jumps from creator to creator, with new additions to their story in every scene as if we are watching their life unfold through their social media accounts.

The knowledge-packed 85 minutes ebb and flow between

highbrow facts and figures and TMI life details. If you’re not too overwhelmed by either and are interested in almost an hour and a half of super zoomed-in character breakdown — or are simply interested in learning how an influencer’s mind works — this film is for you.

Anything for Fame’s creative team has several ties to UBC. Apart from Funk, other alum who worked

COURTESY OF THE NFB AND NORTH OF NOW

on this film include Sebastian Mercado (editor and sound production), Peter Planta (cinematographer) and Christopher Lorenz (co-writer, assistant director and assistant editor). The film’s story editor, Lynne Stopkewich, also taught Funk during his time at UBC. Anything for Fame was released in 2022 and recently became available to stream on the National Film Board website for free. U

LOST IN THE SAUCE //

Homesick Cooking: Nonna’s pasta sauce & meatballs where needed to accommodate. For vegetarians or vegans, I recommend cremini mushrooms for the sauce instead of meat to add extra flavour and heartiness.

INGREDIENTS Meatballs: • • • • • • • • • • Nonna always added the meatballs.

Sandrine Jacquot Contributor

I still remember the smell of a freshly-made plate of pasta waiting for me at the kitchen table in my Nonno and Nonna’s house when I was a kid. Whether it was a holiday, birthday or any old Sunday visit, pasta was usually involved.

Following the recipes my grandparents left behind keeps them in my heart and memory. So, I called my mom from across the country to finally walk me through how to make the ultimate Italian tomato pasta sauce and meatballs, just like my Nonna used to make.

Some pro tips I learned along the

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way: Don’t stress about being precise with measurements! In our family, we like to eyeball the ingredient amounts — don’t worry if you add a bit more of something, it will still taste great.

Prep the ingredients before you start cooking. I like to dice my vegetables and defrost the meat beforehand to make the process smoother.

Be ready to make a lot of food.

Make sure to have Tupperware ready to store the sauce when you’re done.

The best thing about this recipe is that it is totally modifiable to fit any dietary need. Feel free to substitute

1 small package of lean ground beef (can opt for pork or do half and half ) ¾ cups of breadcrumbs 2 eggs ¼ cup of milk Salt Pepper 1 clove of garlic ½ tsp of chili powder ¼ cup of grated parmesan cheese A small handful of finely chopped fresh Italian parsley

Sauce: • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A handful of baby carrots (chopped up) 1 red pepper (diced) ½ a yellow or white onion (diced) 2 cloves of garlic 1 Tbsp of olive oil 3-4 bottles of tomato passata (Mutti brand is best!)

4–5 leaves of fresh basil Salt Pepper Chili powder 1 small package of lean ground beef (can opt for pork or do half and half ) 3 Italian sausages (removed from casing; optional) A splash of red wine (optional)

START WITH THE MEATBALLS Spaghetti, penne, rigatoni — no matter the pasta shape, Nonna always added the meatballs.

In a large bowl, add the meat, breadcrumbs, parsley, grated parmesan, salt, pepper, chilli powder and crushed garlic.

In a smaller bowl, crack two eggs, then add the milk and seasoning (salt, pepper and chilli powder).

Scramble the mixture together and add it to the large bowl mixture.

Now it’s time to get in there with your hands. Don’t be afraid to get dirty, because this is the best way to mix the ingredients together. If the meat feels too wet from the eggs, add more breadcrumbs as needed.

My favourite part of helping my mom or Nonna cook as a kid was moulding the meatballs in my hands like Play-Doh. With about a tablespoon of meat for each, roll it tightly into a ball. This should make around 15 meatballs. You don’t need to add all of them to the sauce — you can freeze some for later, fry them separately or turn them into burgers.

THE GOOD GOOD SAUCE Now for the main attraction: the sauce. On medium heat, coat the bottom of the pan with olive oil.

When it’s warmed up, add the onion, pepper, carrots and two crushed cloves of garlic. Stir it all together and let it simmer for a few minutes.

Then, add in the remaining ground beef. Season it with — you guessed it — salt, pepper and chili powder. Don’t be afraid to be a bit heavy-handed with the seasoning.

Mix it all together.

If you’d like, remove the casing from three mild (or spicy) Italian sausages and add the meat to your sauce for extra flavour. Another optional flavour-booster is a splash of red wine.

Mix it well and turn up the heat.

Keep the lid off the pot so the liquid can boil out and evaporate, stirring periodically so the bottom doesn’t burn.

When I started cooking for myself, I never quite understood what made sauce saucy. That was until my mom told me about the good stuff — the passata. I ended up using three bottles, but depending on how much you want, you can add more or less. Turn the heat down to medium and empty each bottle into the pot, stirring it in with everything else.

Then, stir in the basil leaves. Put the lid on, and when it’s boiling, gently drop each meatball in. Let the sauce boil uncovered for a bit, stirring gently to avoid breaking the meatballs.

And that’s it! The sauce will need to boil a bit before you eventually turn the heat down to low. Put the lid on, and let it simmer for about an hour. When you check on the sauce, give it a stir.

You’ll know when it’s done when, in the words of my mom, it looks cooked.

That night, my first pasta meal with my freshly made sauce shocked me. It was the first time I made a meal that tasted just like home. And now, with my four containers full of sauce ready to be frozen, I can have that same meal whenever I need a reminder of home. U

In Other Words

The languages that shape and connect us

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | CULTURE | 7

Editor Elena Massing Photo Editor Isa S. You Designs by Anya A Ameen

8 | CULTURE | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

When words fail I remember a very distinct feeling as a kid, back before I knew what tax returns or 401ks were.

It would occur whenever I went to the beach with my family. I would sit in the back seat on the drive there, and we would talk to each other about little things — not insignificant things, but little things — like how classes have been, what we wanted to do at the beach that day, any stories about weirdos we heard about on the news.

Then, as if some spiteful higher power had flipped a switch, the conversation would go from English to Russian, and I would be left in the dark. The words I thought could move mountains suddenly felt like audible chicken scratch. It was in those moments I learned that sometimes, words fail.

I know I’m a writer and I shouldn’t dare undermine the super secret ancient power of words, but it’s true. At times, language fails on a technical level, and doesn’t accomplish communication for one simple reason: Not everyone knows the words you know.

Most of the words my parents used confused me as a kid, and still do now. I can get by with a “Привет!” or a “Как дела!” but the rest is lost on me.

I was never actively taught Russian, so it never seemed important enough to learn. So, I stuck to English at the time, but something always itched.

Conversations on the couch, arguments in the car, swears that definitely should not have been said around me — all mysterious Russian I could only guess the meaning of.

I’m not sure why I wasn’t taught. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was an erasure of tradition, maybe I was just stubborn (I get that one a lot).

Regardless of the “Why not?” my life became centred around a new question: “What now?”

As I grew up, I became more and more interested in art, and in creativity as a whole. My first loves were storytelling and music. They spoke to that itch, listened to it, created a meaning out of it. It was a language that I understood.

Art transcends the limits of languages. It makes sense of the indescribable. Music, books, movies, cooking, paintings, video games — they provide language when words fail. It’s invaluable, and it’s exactly what that young, four-foot-tall-me needed.

By chasing after the language of art, I was also rebelling against the expectations set up for me, which felt incredibly isolating. I had already diverted from family tradition by not learning Russian as a child, so

studying art amidst a family of accomplished scientists on top of that? It felt impossible to feel like I fit in anywhere, but I stuck with it.

During high school, I gravitated towards the kids who had the same disdain for literal language I did, who also felt like it had failed them.

Those who rejected the language of a society built against them. The kids who felt like outsiders for simply existing. Shy kids who felt out of place in a loud world, Queer and Trans kids who were never represented, artsy kids who didn’t fit in with the academic language of exams. The kids who raised middle fingers to the moon on winter nights just for the hell of it.

We’re not included in your conversation? Fine, we’ll make our own.

Making your own language, your own path of explanation and expression, is what helps when we are bogged down by the restraints and expectations of literal language. To communicate our ideas in our own way, however we want to, is where the power of being human lies. The best part is that we don’t even need to be “good” at making art.

To simply use the tools of creativity is enough to help ourselves make sense of the world, to move our own mountains.

Using my own language didn’t just influence the way I interacted with the world around me — it also helped me understand myself.

On a late night along in wintertime, freezing weather drew my friends and I inside and into our friend’s basement. There’s something strange about language in male friendships. With my family, it felt like the words couldn’t reach, but the patriarchal expectation for men to be tough and emotionless made it feel like the words we wanted to use weren’t allowed to reach.

It felt like I was partly hiding myself whenever I was around my friends. We would withhold our true feelings and vulnerabilities, cutting in half the already limited toolbox of communication I felt like I had with literal language. My friends and I all knew we wanted to further express ourselves in some way, but we didn’t.

Jokes turned to play fights, play fights turned to wrestling, wrestling turned to tackling — a punch was thrown at me, and I’m suddenly sitting in my car in the middle of nowhere, as far as I could get from wherever I called “home.” I got phone calls, texts, voicemails. But something about that communication felt painful.

Disingenuous.

I turned my phone to Do Not Disturb, melted away that literal language, and sunk yet again into art. I wrote little poems in my phone, sang melodies to myself, bits and pieces from the language which I would never show to a single soul but myself. For a bit, it felt like things made sense amidst the chaos.

Art is what helped me realize that it’s okay for men to cry. It helped me admit that I cried that night, that it’s okay to not follow the toxic standards of the past and instead choose your own way to express yourself.

I still have those voice memos and notes in my phone to this day. I used to be terrified of getting weird looks for being myself, but I’m learning to see it as a fun reaction to the accent of my own language. U

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | CULTURE | 9

The Philippines speaks more languages than Tagalog. Why does UBC teach none of them?

I wasn’t raised in the Philippines, so all of my knowledge of the country comes from my family and what they chose to expose me to.

At any given time, The Filipino Channel (TFC) would be playing on the small television screen in my lola’s bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, peeling vegetables and tossing the skins into a recycled takeout bowl on a small folding table, probably lost in Coco Martin’s eyes.

No one ever taught me Tagalog — one of the official languages of the Philippines — which was interwoven with English in all of the shows on TFC. In my household, we used the regional language of Pangasinan.

I understand it perfectly and could speak it when I was younger, but I rarely find opportunities to use it now.

Luckily, I love learning languages and have always picked them up with ease. Using context clues and a careful ear when around my cousins who spoke Tagalog, I managed to piece together more and more elements of the language and found myself with a pretty decent understanding of it.

But I never know for sure if I’m correct in my translations.

I misinterpret meanings and neglect nuances that can only be learned through proper teaching.

My vocabulary is limited to things that my family would say around the house — the words used in their tsismis (gossip) or in the kitchen while cooking for parties.

In short bursts between episodes of soap operas, game shows and ads for remittance services, my lola’s TV aired updates from ABS-CBN, one of the main news outlets of the Philippines.

I wanted so badly to understand the news. Soap opera plots were easy enough to decipher, even with my limited knowledge of Tagalog (the characters had such overexaggerated reactions that you could probably figure out what they were feeling without knowing the language at all).

But I wanted to know what was happening in the Philip-

pines from a source that was in the middle of everything. I wanted to learn about current events without having to wait for something deemed “significant” enough to be featured in English media. I wanted to understand what was happening in the country I held dear to me, but didn’t have the right words for it — when in those kitchen conversations would I have heard the vocabulary I needed to learn about war? About politics? How could I better understand my identity as a Filipinx person when my understanding of the Philippines was limited to recipes and celebrity drama?

Coming to UBC, I was determined to learn how to actually speak Tagalog — to me, that meant being able to use it in an academic setting.

I would finally be able to watch the news, or pore through historical documents or hold a conversation that went further than surface level formalities.

I expected that, given the rather large population of Filipinx people in Vancouver, there would be a course complete with structured lessons and the opportunity to practice speaking with someone who wasn’t my mother.

It was shocking to learn that there wasn’t a course like this at all — in fact, there turned out to be practically no courses outside of the Social Justice Institute that covered Filipinx communities and issues, and definitely not any centred

around language. Sir Charles Tupper Secondary is the only school in BC that offers a Filipino language course, which is running for the first time this academic year.

Dr. John Paul Catungal, a professor in Critical Racial and Ethnic Studies with UBC’s Social Justice Institute, spoke to me about the role that language plays in understanding Filipinx stories. Instating a language course can be beneficial, but is more complicated than it may seem.

“Language is a skill set. Language is also a way of knowing the world.

Language is a tool for relationship building,” said Catungal. “There’s also the practical thing of language being a way to understand history.”

From his perspective, demographics don’t determine language course offerings — instead, the value that the institution places on languages does.

Almost nobody actually speaks Latin for instance, but universities run Latin programs because academics need it to study classical history.

“Latin holds a place in the Western imagination as a language and a history that is important enough for it to be integrated into the curriculum,” said Catungal. “There’s also

considerations around the politics of knowledge — what is to be a priority and what isn’t.”

But what does that say about whose history we are choosing to focus on?

Catungal pointed out that in addition to archival materials, knowing Tagalog is also important for understanding current media.

“A lot of public discourse, including the internet [and] film, are in languages other than English, including in Tagalog. So if we’re going to understand public discourse, ability in that language is important, necessary even.”

Though a full-fledged course is not currently in the works, there is an option for individuals who are already fluent in Tagalog to have their abilities evaluated in order to fulfill the arts language requirement — however, even then the language is not prioritized. Catungal, other faculty members and some graduate students have been asked to conduct these assessments without any form of financial compensation, despite it being outside of their job description.

Catungal expressed that though he would like to support fellow Tagalog speakers in getting their language proficiency recognized for credit, it’s unfair that he has to do it for free. “[The university] can’t even pay someone to evaluate someone’s language skill. That, to me, is an example of the university not recognizing that this is a skill in a material way.”

But if there were to be a Filipino language course, would it focus on Tagalog? It’s the most prominently used language in the capital city, Manila — a hub of cultural and political landmarks long influenced by Spanish rule.

Tagalog is the default option, but would potentially reinforce a colonial

characterization of the Philippines and neglect the cultural diversity of the country.

“How do we not reproduce, in our call to institutions like UBC, the inequalities that already exist around that category ‘Philippines’? How do we ensure that we are not reproducing a Tagalog-centric, nationalist framework?” said Catungal.

Like my own, Catungal’s family is from Pangasinan — he understands firsthand what it’s like to be lumped into a category that does not define you, and to feel obligated to represent something you don’t fully identify with or understand.

Throughout my life, I was expected to be a spokesperson for Filipinx people — whoever that might include — in rooms where I was the only source of this information. The issue was that I couldn’t accurately speak for everyone’s experiences, but still wanted to make sure that Filipinx voices were being heard.

How could I promote art and music from the Philippines if I couldn’t understand it? What did I know of Kapampangan or Tagalog or Ilocano or all the other languages that I couldn’t speak but also wanted to educate people on? How could I decide between responding to questions about the Philippines at the risk of misrepresenting cultures I wasn’t a part of, or leaving them completely unanswered?

I have always prioritized Tagalog over my family’s mother tongue, because it’s what people associate with the Philippines.

But why should I even have to do that?

“The Philippines is actually really diverse, culturally and linguistically, and to subsume people from Pangasinan with people from other parts of the Philippines is to potentially try and flatten those differences,” said Catungal.

“We’re not just all of a sudden abandoning that in favour of ‘Filipinoness’ as a singular identity, as if that’s the only one that is possible for us.” U

photo by Isa S. You

10 | CULTURE | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

‘An act of great care and great love’: The path toward Yiddish at UBC The Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture hosts Vancouver’s only Yiddish library.

Every week, people gather in the unassuming gray building to speak and sing in Yiddish, a language historically spoken by Ashkenazi Jews in Eastern Europe. It has traveled wherever Ashkenazim have immigrated, including Vancouver. It’s the language my ancestors spoke, but no living relative knows.

The Peretz Centre doesn’t get the same attention as other aspects of Vancouver’s Jewish community — it’s secular rather than religious, carries a historically left-wing reputation and sustains a language with a shrinking base of native speakers.

In winter 2024, UBC will offer introductory Yiddish courses to students for the first time. Some Yiddish educators, including librarian and UBC alum Faith Nomi Jones, are not only keeping the language alive, but redefining how it’s taught and what it stands for.

Eleven million people spoke Yiddish in the early 20th century.

Its numbers declined dramatically soon after — 85 per cent of Holocaust victims were Yiddish speakers. Yiddish also faced competition from Hebrew, the chosen language of the Zionist project, which actively suppressed Yiddish in its mission to turn a diaspora into a nation.

Now, nearly eight decades later, the UBC Senate approved the new program UBC Yiddish last May — along with the introductory courses YDSH 101 and 102. The program is spearheaded by professors in the department of Central, Eastern, and Northern European studies (CENES), including Dr. David Gramling and Dr. Ervin Malakaj, and guided by community experts.

“One of the main things we’ve heard [from partners] is to ‘make sure to keep it Jewish’” said Gramling, “but Jewish in a really broad sense: secular, Queer, progressive, truthful, light of spirit, deep in experience, deep in history, hopeful about the future.”

The program now faces questions about how to balance cultural specificity with inclusivity — especially when even within Jewish communities, what it means to “keep it Jewish” isn’t clear.

photo by Tova Gaster

What is Yiddish?

While Hebrew is considered the language of Judaism today, before the 20th century Hebrew was a formal language reserved for holy books and religious observance, not for everyday speech. Jewish communities spoke many languages — including Yiddish in Eastern Europe, Ladino around the Iberian Peninsula and the languages of the cultures they lived among.

Jews moved around a lot due to persecution, and they brought their languages with them. Yiddish dialects bear the linguistic traces of where they’ve been — German, Polish, Latvian and Romance vocabularies, all written in the Hebrew alphabet.

Today, less than one million people speak it worldwide, with the 2021 census finding 20,155 speakers in Canada.

Its legacy of art, theatre and labour organizing on both sides of the Atlantic continue to resonate as a way to connect to Jewish history beyond stories of violence.

From New York to Warsaw, Yiddish has historically been a diasporic language tied not to a state or territory, but to the ethno-religious group that speaks it.

This can make it difficult to get popular support for Yiddish education. Gramling said most people in university courses want to learn languages that are “useful,” or that come with national funding opportunities. Yiddish, which has no state to back it up and little utility for trade or diplomacy, is the opposite.

To Gramling, that’s part of what makes it exciting.

“It’s the epitome of a grassroots, diverse, messy, lively, human language that is lived and loved by real people, and doesn’t have a state budget behind it,” said Gramling. “I love that.”

Gramling said that starting a Yiddish program was one of his main goals when he started his term as the head of the CENES department in 2021.

For a department that covers Eastern Europe, “it’s bonkers that we don’t have a dedicated professorship for Jewish studies,” he said.

Yiddish in Vancouver Yiddish isn’t quite endangered, but its population of speakers is small, and aging rapidly. Jones, at 58, is “considered to be a younger Yiddish speaker.”

As a translator, she is a bridge between a Yiddish culture that a shrinking few can access, and the growing community who identify with the language but can’t understand it.

“There [are] lots of people who are not going to learn the language in any intensive way, but who have an affinity for it and who respect what it means and how it enriches their lives in one way or another,” said Jones.

Musicians working in Jewish styles like klezmer come to the language to understand their repertoire better. Jones translates lyrics into Yiddish for her Vancouver Jewish Folk Choir, plays for the Digital Yiddish Theatre Project and even recently helped new parents pick out a Yiddish name for their child.

Jones, like most Yiddish speakers in Vancouver, didn’t grow up with the language.

Only one of her grandparents spoke it, and she didn’t pass the language down.

“I really had to decide I wanted Yiddish,” said Jones.

“And that was a very long process.”

She only started learning at age 30, with night classes at the Peretz Centre. After she finished a master’s in library science at UBC, she began taking intensive courses in New York.

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | CULTURE | 11

The language of a

Building Yiddish at

The Queer Yiddish

people, not a nation

UBC from the ground

connection

In Yiddish, she found a different story of Jewish history — one that doesn’t necessarily point toward Israel.

“I guess I was looking for a way to be Jewish,” she said. “My family was both not religious and not Zionists, which leaves you with a small number of ways to express yourself.”

In the early 20th century, Yiddish was historically championed by Eastern European Jews who angled to build power against antisemitism and exploitation where they lived, using the language their people spoke. On the other side of the Atlantic, Yiddish-speaking immigrants organized unions and established newspapers and cultural centres.

Meanwhile, Zionist movements for the formation of a Jewish state in Palestine spoke Modern Hebrew, which was invented only in the 1880s.

They actively repressed Yiddish, associating it with the fragility of statelessness that they wanted to leave behind in Europe.

Hebrew represented a chance to redefine Jewish identity — by defining the borders of a nation-state.

“My feeling about Yiddish was that it gave me this connection to a historical reality of the Jews, which is that for most of our history, we’ve existed in diaspora,” said Jones. “I felt more connected to that than to something like the state of Israel.”

The history of Yiddish and of Hebrew is bound up in the history of Jewish people as both victims of and perpetrators of violence. To some Yiddish revivalists, like Jones, Yiddish is

up

Like Jones, most people do not have relatives that taught them to speak or understand Yiddish. The communities that form around learning the language instead become chosen families. “[The] Yiddish community is intergenerational, but often among unrelated people, and in a way, that’s very Queer,” said Jones. “It’s also very feminist.”

That resonates with me. I learned about Yiddish from books that sat side-by-side on my late grandmother’s bookshelf with a dusty copy of iconic lesbian cartoonist Allison Bechdel’s Dykes to Watch Out For. To learn more, I reached out to a family friend — a Queer Yiddish musician whose short hair and glasses mirrored mine.

Gramling and Jones affirmed that a lot of people that seek out Yiddish in 2023 happen to be gay or gender-nonconforming.

“I think there’s a siblingship between Yiddish and Queerness in terms of how both … struggle against certain types of normativity,” said Gramling.

Queer family structures exist outside the boundaries of what is conventionally useful or profitable. Yiddish learners do something similar.

“Families are different if you’re Queer, if you’re a feminist and also if you’re Yiddish,” said Jones.

Families, chosen and inherited, are also often contentious, diverse and messy. Still, learning a language that holds so much fragmented history requires an effort that communicates more than the words themselves.

“When somebody speaks to me in Yiddish, I really feel it as an act of great care and great love,” said Jones. U

a way to connect to Jewish identity in a way that aligns with anti-Zionist values.

Of course, Yiddish speakers run the ideological spectrum — a shared language does not translate to a shared worldview.

“I will say that the current situation in Israel is incredibly hard on our Yiddish community, because we have the same splits that are in every Jewish community; they are happening the same in Yiddish,” said Jones.

Schisms between Yiddish speakers that are speaking out against the genocide in Gaza and those that support Israel are fracturing the small community into even smaller pieces.

Malakaj said that it’s still uncertain how UBC Yiddish classes will address the tensions that are currently impacting Jewish, Israeli, Palestinian and Arab community members. Gramling said that the program hopes to move the focus away from Israel and Zionism entirely, centring instead on celebrating Yiddish’s Eastern European roots.

Still, Malakaj hopes that the classroom can be a productive space for critical discussion about how languages speak to identity, culture and conflict.

While Yiddish isn’t in the classroom yet, Gramling, Jones and Malakaj are laying the groundwork.

They’re looking to successful precedents at UBC like the First Nations and Endangered Languages (FNEL) program for insight on how to build a minoritized language program that lasts.

According to Gramling, that means designing a program for speakers that connect to the culture, not for academic linguists.

“What makes language programs more successful is often really infusing them with culture,” said Jones. Rather than just grammar and vocabulary, learning Yiddish is inseparable from art, politics and the other ways the language is animated through community — past and present.

They’re currently working on hiring a teacher. Then, they plan on focussing on recruitment and enrollment for students across campus, and even for remote access students across BC. While Malakaj is hopeful for “long waitlists” for the YDSH courses, Gramling has more modest expectations.

UBC penalizes classes with average enrolment below 30 with reduced funding. To Gramling and Malakaj, the uncertainty of teaching smaller languages is worth it.

“We always run a risk when we add a new language, and that is simply something that we’re doing because we believe in it because it follows our principles,” said Gramling.

While the actual number of Yiddish speakers is small, the community around it is much larger.

According to Jones, much of it is not Jewish. In UBC’s Yiddish class,

it’s unlikely that everybody in the room will be.

Jones said Yiddish won’t survive at UBC by only teaching to students with Yiddish in their family histories.

“I think this is really an ethical responsibility for everybody who does Yiddish or who works with small languages,” said Jones. “Part of the responsibility is to invite everybody in … I’m not gatekeeping.”

Jewish communities have historically held themselves apart to keep themselves safe from persecution. Now, the survival of Yiddish might depend on how well we can open up.

photo by Jocelyn Baker

12 | CULTURE | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

I didn’t write this poem

my feet press against the shutters,

.

holding back the dark as I read Billy-Ray Belcourt watching the words pour into me; ink blots, inaccessible I could make a fence around breath and laughter and meaningless joy and routine sadness

I learn to swear reading Catcher in the Rye

here it is, sketched with broken

in Chinese, 10 years old and foreign

pencil smudged by the palm of my hand

in a country called the Motherland.

but would you see it?

Before that, I learn to write

I drop the vase before it’s wrapped in cellophane and

tracing letters, scratching

there’s no such thing as kintsugi for a poem or

characters on grid lined paper,

if there was all the meaning already spilled into

field shaped boxes. The strokes like

the carpet i keep my feet off U

wheat filling up,

photo by Annie Di Giovanni

a harvest. 6 years old, I carve quiz answers into an eraser: camel, strawberry, green grass.

Trying and failing to remember, chewed up and spat out,

Kitchen morphemes

me, stumbling over my words, covering my mouth with all that I cannot say out loud.

I miss you, I’m sorry, I just want to know you better.

Insofar as language involves conveying meaning through objects and actions,

Coaxing teeth,

Insofar as dialect is formed through consistent, meaningful communication with another,

a grape, crushed

In the winter with my sister I make grilled cheese sandwiches and powder-mix hot chocolate.

She heats the milk, I butter the bread, in the kitchen, we pass each other on the left, the right, effortless harmony. Language in this moment is wordless, is the sound of mugs and plates against tables, sitcom TV in the background, the stove clicking off. We have between us shaped a dialect: here, care is the way we fight to give the other the better meal. She offers to wash the dishes, and this, in translation, is love at its finest. We speak, we understand, here I am at my most fluent.

“r”s in the back of my throat.

My jaw clutched in your hands, trying to sound out the vowels to yet another language.

Feathers, dust, skin, coughed up over time. Can I hold all the things I have yet to learn to say, gently?

Palms cupped, until they have thawed in the sunlight. U

What is my native language? I say my sister, there is no other word for it. U photo by Isa S. You

photo by Isa S. You

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | CULTURE | 13

What can speech tell us about brain health?

Spanning topics from singing to AI, UBC’s Integrated Speech Research Laboratory (ISRL) has a diverse set of interests. Most recently, they have been looking at what speech can tell us about our brains — potentially contributing to a better understanding of the detection and treatment of neurodegenerative diseases.

“When people have done previous research on speech, oftentimes it has … taken the approach that speech is just sounds,” said Dr. Bryan Gick, founder and current director of the ISRL. “In our lab, we take the approach that speech is movement.”

The work of the Speech and Neurological Disease research group is particularly significant in learning more about the embodiment of speech. Founded by PhD candidate Arian Shamei, the group focuses on the effects of neurological diseases on fine motor skills and their manifestations in speech.

“When something goes wrong with your body, that affects how that communication system works, and that’s the conceptual underpinning behind all of the work that we do in the lab,” said Gick.

Gick noted that speaking involves the same kind of

mechanisms that we use for any other movement, but the signals our bodies are generating are much more complex. Spatial functions like walking are easier to visualize, so we don’t have that same understanding of speech and its processes yet.

Shamei began his research journey with a focus on neuroscience, but realized he was especially drawn towards linguistics and the effect of brain injuries on speech. Growing up, he witnessed the impact of aphasia — trouble with speaking resulting from a stroke — in his grandfather’s life, which inspired his interest in the field.

As he studied linguistics throughout his undergraduate years, Shamei was exposed to various theories of speech and motor control, but found them to be outdated. The up-andcoming field of state detection — identifying potential links between changes in speech and the mental state of the speaker — was what truly intrigued him.

On the brink of cannabis legalization, Shamei grew fascinated with the way that intoxication can affect the sound of one’s voice. Determined to explore this further, Shamei and his supervisor at the University of Victoria, Dr. Sonya Bird, found that cannabis reduces muscle tension and impairs one’s ability to coordinate movement in the mouth.

photo by Isa S. You Around the time he started his PhD at UBC, Shamei noticed how machine learning was taking off — he optimized these advancements, finding ways to merge them with his interest in state detection. He started with intoxication detection machinery, but his interests started to gravitate towards disease states, like Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease.

Because people are constantly talking, it’s an effective medium for continuous monitoring.

“The thing that they’re the most practiced at doing happens

to be one of the most demanding things you can do,” said Shamei.

Shamei, Gick and PhD candidate Yadong Liu published an article earlier this year on the reduction of vowel space in individuals with Alzheimer’s disease.

“People with Alzheimer’s disease have really big impairments with movement trajectories throughout the body. But no one had really looked very hard at fine motor skills, like vowels-based articulation overall,” said Shamei.

The researchers accurately predicted that a general loss in bodily

function caused by Alzheimer’s would be reflected by a decrease in the ability for tongue movement.

These findings are a step towards improving the way we diagnose and treat neurodegenerative diseases, possibly working towards modes of prevention and delay.

“As we learn more about the disease itself … we can detect those motor changes earlier and earlier, which enables early disease detection systems,” Shamei said. U

do-Aryan language might have unique traits that make it useful for coding.

The potential synergy between Sanskrit and coding was also evident in a 2020 article published at the University of Toronto on an influx of computer science students taking Sanskrit courses.

Sanskrit as we know it today can be dated back to approximately 2,500 years ago. It was trumped by regional languages over time, so native speakers are limited.

Sanskrit follows such a specific set of rules that it is sometimes mistakenly characterized as an “artificial” language. Originally, Sanskrit had many variations, but Panini — a prominent grammarian — systemized the language in his book Ashtadhyayi.

“From that period on, we get a form of Sanskrit that’s pretty stable,” said Dr. Janet Um, a scholar of Sanskrit literature. “Perhaps that’s where this understanding that it was an artificial language might come into play. It’s so systematized

and scientific [so] it could seem, in some ways, like it were an artificial language.”

Dr. Prasad Bhide, a Sanskrit playwright and scholar, highlights the language’s unique attributes. Sanskrit has dual nouns alongside singular and plural forms and the use of eight different cases of affixes to convey word intent.

This standardization allowed for a less ambiguous interpretation of Sanskrit — an advantageous quality for computer comprehension. In comparing English, a language with a web of variation and growing lexicon, to Sanskrit, an ancient systematized language, we see an inverse relationship between language variation and its ability to be processed.

This conflict between computational and cognitive processing leaves us to wonder if Sanskrit could be the future of technological advancement. U

Encoding language: Cognition vs. computation

While computers (think ChatGPT, or even Google Translate) are getting better at approximating human language, they have conventionally coded meaning through rigid sets of rules. Human languages, or “natural language,” work through a far less explicit series of rules that linguists spend a lot of time trying to figure out.

Human languages vary enormously though, and so do the ways they code meaning. Could the diversity of languages worldwide hold clues for computational linguistics?

Language revitalization is mostly by and for the communities that speak them. Academic linguistic researchers can play a support role by systematically coding language structures to support education and preservation.

According to some researchers, there may be some languages where binary logic and natural language converge more clearly than others. The Ubyssey talked to

researchers that work on Gitxsan and classical Sanskrit to learn more about the hidden pathways in language where people and computers could overlap.

Dr. Miikka Silfverberg, assistant professor in the department of linguistics, researches how to use machine learning to document the Indigenous languages Gitksan and Lillooet.

He combines computer skills with linguistic knowledge, using artificial intelligence and machine learning (AI/ML) to record and work with the scarcely available data available about these languages, accelerating the process of recovering them from their endangered state.

Silfverberg decodes complex morphology by transcribing speech from native speakers and then trains machines to process this data. His computer models can interpret about 90 per cent of the language he’s working with, but linguists still need to review the rest.

Compared to Gitksan and Lillooet

languages, English has a lot more variation, but is still widely used in technosocial circumstances. In fact, Silfverberg notes that language variation can be a sign of a healthy, thriving language that is commonly spoken.

“Geographical spread of a language naturally and spontaneously induces variations over time,” Sifverberg explained.

Machines are taught using “supervised machine learning,” a sub-category of AI/ML that is resource-intensive and requires labelled data to function.

Linguistic variations in English are counterbalanced by access to heaps of data, aiding modern technology in interacting fluently with English speakers.

But is there a language that’s inherently easier to use for coding, without needing all of this data to navigate it?

In 1985, Rick Briggs, a NASA engineer, published a paper titled “Knowledge Representation in Sanskrit and Artificial Intelligence.”

It posed the idea that the ancient In-

14 | CULTURE | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

Stumbling to find the right words English was always my worst subject in elementary school.

Despite being a fervent reader — I would beg my mother to take me to the library every day because I had already finished the stack I brought home the day before — when the words had to be my own, they never came.

My writing and comprehension skills remained lacklustre for several years.

My writing homework never received stickers like my friends’, I fumbled on exams and every time I got a paper back with my comma splices circled, I wanted to rip it to shreds. I scraped by with Bs, and no one in my family cared as long as my marks in science and math stayed high.

It wasn’t until high school that I slowly but surely became absorbed by every aspect of literature. Thanks to the guidance of a good teacher, I came to enjoy the meticulous process of

analysis, the struggle of conjuring an interesting thesis and the care it took to craft an intriguing sentence.

Now, literature, writing and stories consume my life. Whether I’m at my job at a newspaper or in my classes (I’m an English major… go figure), I always have a thesis idea for my upcoming essay churning in my head, or I’m reading something and editing something else. When I have a rare moment to spare, I write for myself.

I write letters to my friends or scribble in my journal. It’s not good, but when my writing is constantly being judged for quality, it is the only place I can happily be mediocre.

This doesn’t mean I feel any better about my communication skills — especially when I have to communicate verbally. Spoken language is an entirely different struggle for me.

My friend recently said that for someone who studies words, I can never get to the point. And she’s

right. Rarely am I able to articulate myself the way I want.

People will confide in me, hoping for comfort, and I drown trying to think of reassuring words. I do not have the option to outline a rough draft, edit or rewrite whole sections until every punctuation mark, phrase and word is perfect, because I’m not afforded a redo in conversation.

Even when I practice what I’m going to say to someone, I end up jumbling the point I was attempting to make clear — I stare at them, red in the face, wishing they could read my mind because I swear, in there, everything makes sense.

None of it comes naturally to me, and it seems counter-intuitive that I want to spend my life studying this when I feel like I’m working so much harder than others.

Even when my family says it was a mistake to study English, I go back to my room to continue writing my essay through my blurred vision.

I dig my own grave when I speak,

photo by Isa S. You but I haven’t learned to shut up.

I have to return to this because I have something to prove to others — maybe also myself.

So when someone offhandedly says they enjoy my writing, or the few times my friends have told me I said the right thing, I know

it’s been worth my effort. The fleeting moment of satisfaction is all I need to be reminded why I do this.

Whether it’s verbal or written language, I keep returning with the hope that one day, I’ll figure out what I’m trying to say. U

Why do hearing people obsess over audio-only forms of content?

How do they not understand that there are millions of people they’re leaving out? The podcasts, the phone calls, the refusal to acknowledge that disabled people exist — it irritates me to no end. Just add captions, a transcript, anything!

It feels as if we’ve completely forgotten the existence of letters, emails and text messages. I can only make a phone call to book an appointment at my audiologist. That has to be some cruel joke, right? Why must I ask my

mother to make appointments for me at the grown age of 20, as if I’m still a child?

The expression “Deaf and dumb” comes from the notion that a d/Deaf person who cannot verbally communicate is a moron, idiotic, dumb. This is still used in phrases like “struck dumb” — being unable to speak. Before somebody comes in here saying “it’s just words,” “it’s not that deep” or “the meaning has changed,” just know this — your failure to recognize your own wrongdoings does hurt us. We are real people, not just a punchline. U

Why are you (hearing people) like this?

In Canada, over 90 per cent of d/ Deaf children are born to hearing parents — the same parents who may never learn sign language nor teach it to their d/Deaf child.

American Sign Language (ASL) was suppressed as a valid language for decades, discouraged from being taught to deaf children with the goal of teaching them to communicate verbally instead, and the effects of that still continue today.

During my childhood I was denied this knowledge of Deaf culture by doctors, parents and teachers, and was never afforded the opportunity to truly comprehend what I was even missing.

I was fortunate enough to secure a spot in UBC’s ASL 100 and 101 courses during the 22/23 winter semester (big shout out to Prof. Nigel Howard!) and gained an excellent understanding of the basics of the language. But UBC still doesn’t have any higher level ASL courses — what am I supposed to do now?

I have only recently been able to rope my parents into learning some sign language and to try and incorporate it into our everyday conversations. It’s been weird and difficult having to communicate verbally my

whole life. I’ve been going by hearing people’s rules this whole time, and it sucks that when I ask them to do what works better for me, I feel like I’m inconveniencing them. They’ve slowly been trying to incorporate more ASL. I know they mean well, but I still can’t ignore the feeling that I’m not being taken seriously.

Where is UBC’s Deaf community?

Why do I feel so isolated? Why does the ASL club not have any d/Deaf members? Why do staff at the Centre for Accessibility still try to call me on the phone?

photo by Isa S. You

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | CULTURE | 15

Building inclusivity into the French language, one classroom at a time

A beginner French class cycles through the basics of the language: numbers, greetings, family members — but unlike the English language, it will also cover gender.

In French, understanding grammatical gender is fundamental to achieving language proficiency. Its grammar is constructed using a male/female binary, and each noun, whether proper or common, must be categorized as masculine or feminine. Adjective endings are also conformed to the gender of the noun they’re describing.

According to Dr. Caroline Lebrec, assistant professor of teaching and language program director of French in the department of French, Hispanic and Italian studies at UBC, one simple rule prevails over all the complexities of the language’s grammar: “the masculine will ‘win’ over the feminine in any case.”

This rule ensures masculine grammatical agreements are dominant when referring to groups, as even a singular masculine presence means the group must be referred to using the masculine case.

However, the rule is divisive.

Lebrec is part of a global Francophone community that views this rule as problematic, and is aiming to push the French language towards a more inclusive future.

Lebrec said the current gender rule in French “doesn’t work with the 21st century’s values of inclusivity in the classroom.”

They are challenging a centuries-old status quo and intentionally selecting gender-neutral language in a gendered language.

A political linguistic choice Lebrec described the masculine-centred grammar rule as inherently political.

The rule can be traced to a 1647 language update made by grammarian Claude Favre de Vaugelas, a member of l’Académie Française, the oldest governing body for the French language.

As masculine was seen as the most noble, Vaugelas argued that it should logically dominate the feminine when presented together. The modification was accepted and con-

tinues to exist in French grammar today. The update also eliminated many feminine forms of words, including all job titles, leaving the masculine as the neutral and only option.

France has an official body that makes decisions about the language, but over time, it began to lose its ironclad grip on the French language and other francophone nations like Canada began creating their own guidelines and standards.

Until the 19th century, the exclusion of feminine forms was normalized and naturalized, with any efforts to reintroduce them being shot down by the academy.

L’Office québécois de la langue française is the leading Canadian authority on linguistic and grammatical questions. The office publicly supported feminizing writing in 1979 and published their first guide in 1981. Switzerland and Belgium would follow Canada’s lead in the 1990s and re-introduce feminine versions of professions, but Francophones would have to wait until 2019 to see France do the same following a 2016 movement from a coalition of French linguists led by Éliane Viennot.

Moving beyond the binary While remaining an important step towards inclusivity, feminization efforts can often fail to move beyond the masculine/feminine binary, which still excludes people who do not feel comfortable using the personal pronoun il (he) or elle (she).

Iel — a combination of il and elle, translatable to the singular “they” in English — has become a popular means of addressing this gap.

Undoubtedly, iel remains a step forward, but Lebrec said it is important to remember that some do not find it perfect as it combines two existing gendered pronouns rather than developing an entirely new, neutral one.

Like in the feminisation debate, l’Académie Française is vehemently opposed to non-binary inclusive language, stating it makes the language incomprehensible and calling it a grave error — “aberration” — in a 2017 statement.

Lebrec explained how “in debate, the [academic] would say ‘no, it doesn’t exist in the language.’ The language is not made for that … [But] they were in the dictionary and they were used.”

Nevertheless, iel was intro-

duced into the pages of major French dictionary Le Robert in 2021.

The inclusion and recognition of the pronoun struck a divisive chord among French politicians.

Jean-Michel Blanquer, the then French minister of education, and Brigitte Macron, the first lady of France, voiced public objection to its inclusion.

For Lebrec, the key to accepting and normalizing inclusive language is to introduce it alongside other traditional pronouns at the beginner level. In her FREN 101 classes, Lebrec teaches students about iel alongside its gendered counterparts and speaks in an inclusive manner.

“I introduce [iel], and students love it … They get it no problem.

I didn’t hear that it seems complicated for them. They just take it for granted. And they’re happy to use forms that can identify everybody.”

However, a challenge that Lebrec noted is the gap between oral and written usage of inclusive language.

While strides have been made with written language, the oral dimension is another challenge for Francophones — creating gender-neutral word endings alters the pronunciation which can affect the language’s oral comprehension. In the standard binary, you often can’t hear the feminine case when spoken out loud. Both are clear in writing.

Lebrec is not alone in thinking about these difficulties. Inclusive writing is one of the topics currently at the forefront of French grammar, with many academics and linguistic organizations tackling the topic.

In future discussion of inclusive language, Lebrec emphasizes the importance of collaborating with and consulting the non-binary francophone community to avoid research existing only in the “ivory tower” of academia.

“They want to use it, they need to use it. They don’t want to speak about themselves using another gender. So there’s the research and there’s what’s on the field. And we need to partner to feed off of each other … we [need to] connect with the reality on the field, which is completely diverse,” said Lebrec.

Despite the heavy workload ahead, Lebrec said she is excited to see how the language will change in the coming decades.

“We are in a new evolution of the language, which is trying to include and recognize and acknowledge that there are several gender identities, and we need to recognize them when we speak and when we write.” U

16 | CULTURE | TUESDAY NOVEMBER 21, 2023

Subtitled My love for movies comes from my dad.

Every weekend, we would have a movie marathon. He’d commend the fight choreography while I critiqued the plot, and eventually we’d both fall asleep with the bright sun streaming through the windows, my dad snoring in the background. It was a pretty good setup.

I like movies because I understand them. I watch interviews with the actors to learn about how they prepared for the role, I listen to the scores and know how foley works. I want to understand the director’s brain and why they decided to do what they did. I pick up on symbolism in movies (thanks to my English lit degree) and I like to learn how things on set work. Oh, the actor went method? I’ve never heard of screenwriting like that! OMG this movie was directed by…

But, sometimes, there were things about movies I didn’t understand. Well, there was one thing: the language.

I love Bollywood — every movie is a musical, every song is about love, every production is bright and bold and extravagant.

I’d put aside hours to watch one movie. I’d set up my spot on the couch — near the window, with a pillow and blanket. I’d gather snacks when watching with my friends, and I’d brush up on the songs by listening to one of the many Hindi music playlists on my phone or the cassette tape stuck in my mom’s minivan. Or when my family would pack into the car to watch a Bollywood movie in theatres, I’d triple-check the Cineplex website to make sure the movie was being shown W.E.S.T — with English subtitles — so I could understand it.

I’ve watched Bollywood mov-

ies since I was a kid, but I’ve never understood what the actors were saying without subtitles. Most of the time, I understood nothing.

That’s not for lack of trying, though. Here and there, I was exposed to words in Gujarati, Kutchi and Hindi, but I never learned any of those languages. My family’s mother tongue isn’t Hindi, so whatever knowledge family members had was already far and few between. I know what different foods are called and why they’re called that. I know phrases in Gujarati and Kutchi. I know jokes. I know how to insult others, which came in handy as a kid when my brothers would pull my hair. I know what a bowl is called, how to say “hello” and how to count to ten.

But anything beyond that — I’m lost.

When asked questions by elders, I would rack my brain for every single word I knew in Gujarati or Kutchi or Hindi. I’d turn to my mom or dad to translate. And when they weren’t there, I’d smile and nod if I didn’t understand. But I guess it was obvious I had no clue, because they’d smile back and repeat whatever they asked, this time in English. I’d respond, in English, then go about my day knowing that a piece of my culture was slowly fading away.

This spiraled into an identity crisis for me. If I didn’t speak the language — whatever language that was — then was I really South Asian?

The answer is yes, obviously.

But it didn’t seem like it. The people around me expected me to speak a language other than English and I felt stupid for not knowing any.

Feeling connected to my culture was difficult since I was disconnected through language. I couldn’t read labels at the Indian grocery store and I didn’t know which words I picked up growing up were part of what language. Is bakuli Kutchi or Swahili for “bowl,” or was it neither?

I did anything I could to feel

South Asian. I felt special wearing saris. I begged my mom to wait with me in a long line so I could get mehndi on my hands. I got my nose pierced. If I didn’t know the language, maybe I could convince people that I just spoke in English more, that I did know it but chose to keep it to myself.

The urge to learn the language burned inside me, but I could never grasp it. Words were fine, but all the letters, sentences, syntax became too much. So I opted to learn bits and pieces, hoping that one day it would all click.

Whenever my family visited an Indian grocery store, my brothers and I would weave through the aisles of imported snacks, hair oil and hing, masala dabbas and chai cups to the back of the store — the bootlegger.

Bright white linoleum lit up the man — often wearing sunglasses inside, often playing music loudly, often raving about his daughter (she’s becoming a doctor) — guarding a laptop, disc burner and printer. He’d greet you (in Hindi or Gujarati or Urdu or Punjabi, depending on what he thought you spoke) and you’d ask him what had the best print.

Most copies of bootlegged Bollywood films would be taken on a camcorder in some theatre halfway across the world. My family had a coveted copy of Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic, a Bollywood Mary Poppins knock-off that had flies flying in front of the screen. But sometimes, if you were lucky, you’d get a bootleg with a good print. And sometimes they would have subtitles.

Bollywood became a way for me to connect with my culture. Though I couldn’t understand what the actors were saying, I saw myself on the screen. I saw actors who had to learn Hindi to become Bollywood actors.

I saw bright colours and saris that I had in my closet. I saw earrings I wanted to buy. I heard scratchy Hindi

oldies blare through the TV screen and Punjabi rap that would be playing at the next family wedding.

We’d go home and watch the movie. My eyes would be glued to the subtitles, trying to match each Hindi word with its English translation, only to get frustrated because there are a million ways to say “love” in Hindi and I didn’t know which one meant what and should be used in what context.

I would tear up every time my family sang “Baar Baar Din Yeh Aaye” to me on my birthday (a birthday song from the 1967 movie Farz), every time I watched Dosti, my dad’s favourite Bollywood movie, and every time I listened to one of my mom’s favourite Bollywood songs “Lag Ja Gale” despite not knowing the meaning of anything.

I remember Googling the English translation of “Lag Ja Gale,” which is about cherishing the time you spend with loved ones since you’re lucky to have been together in this life. I cry every time I hear that song.

And I cry even harder after remembering it’s my mom’s favourite, and was her mom’s favourite. How did I listen to and love music without knowing its meaning?

Overtime, I learned my connection to the words matters more than understanding every single one.

I still triple-check that Bollywood movies have subtitles. But what once made me upset because it showed I didn’t know a mother tongue, now comforts me. I might not know the language, but I know the movies, the music — the culture is not fading away. U

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FEATURES

EDITOR IMAN JANMOHAMED

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

18

OUR CAMPUS //

Dr. Agnes d’Entremont teaches the art of the possible

words by Emiko Wijeysundera photos by Zoe Wagner

Twice a week for an hour and a half, broken pasta flies across a classroom as conversations about torsion and solid mechanics float out the door.

You’d be forgiven for thinking this was a typical engineering class, but not one student in the classroom is an engineering student.

That class is APSC 366, an engineering course for non-engineers, called “The Art of the Possible.”

For Dr. Agnes d’Entremont, one of the course instructors, it’s a course that just makes sense.

Inspired by a Princeton University program where every student must take an engineering course, APSC 366 strives to make students “informed citizens” who can “participate in civic discussion and debate about engineering projects.”

Teaching non-engineering students about engineering is valuable, said d’Entremont “Engineering processes and products impact people, and sometimes quite dramatically,” said d’Entremont. “So people, the community, society should have a say in these products and processes.” “[Other people] see the importance of things different than an engineer would, which is exactly why we need people to understand and contribute to decisions about

engineering … that affect us all.”

FOR THE LOVE OF TEACHING D’Entremont, a mechanical engineering associate professor of teaching, was first exposed to engineering in high school when her chemistry teacher encouraged her to apply to the SHAD program. SHAD is a nationwide Canadian summer STEAM program for high school students.

The program and a love for science and math encouraged d’Entremont to pursue an undergraduate degree in mechanical engineering which led to her interest in biomechanics.

Biomechanics brought d’Entremont to UBC from McGill University. At UBC, she pursued her master’s degree and soon discovered teaching was her true passion.

“As soon as I started TA-ing … I was like, ‘This is what I want to do!’”

“It’s kind of funny because my mom’s a teacher, my brother’s a teacher,” said d’Entremont. “I was sort of the odd one out going into STEM, and then I did kind of turn back into teaching.”

D’Entremont now teaches mechanical engineering classes at UBC including second-year

mechanical engineering classes, a third-year statistics and experimentation course (“I taught it for the first time last year and turns out I’m a total statistics nerd. I loved it!”) and fourth-year technical electives in biomechanics.

The excitement d’Entremont feels for injury biomechanics — how systems can be engineered to keep people from being injured — is contagious.

D’Entremont said for decades, the automobile industry’s crash test dummies were designed based on male cadaver data.

“Cars ... were tested with male dummies. As a result, there is a significant difference by gender in rates of injury given equivalent crashes.”

“There’s lots of stuff people don’t know about cars and the limitations of safety systems in our vehicles whcih I think more people should know about,” said d’Entremont. “Engineering ... intersects with humans all the time.”

FOR NON-ENGINEERS APSC 366 is team-taught by four faculty members in the departments of mechanical, chemical and biological and electrical engineering.

D’Entremont said the course’s unique position allows professors to teach their interests.

The course also challenges instructors, said d’Entremont.

“As engineering instructors, we always reach back to the equations and the math, and we can’t do that too much in this course … it has ended up being a really neat teaching challenge.”

“There’s a lot of other ways of thinking about truth and knowledge. You and I might experience an event completely differently because of our identities or histories and lived experiences. The fact that our truths are different doesn’t make one of them wrong.

That’s a hard thing for engineers sometimes,” said d’Entremont.

Each instructor teaches one of four modules, which they structure around their own expertise and interests, and past modules have focused on smartphones, engines, clean technology and most recently, the Site C dam.

The goal of each module is to give students the background to engage with the process of engineering design.

D’Entremont’s module is on total hip replacements.

“The amount of force that is experienced by a human hip is pretty large,” she said. “It’s around

two and a half times your body weight on one hip. But the space is constrained, the materials are constrained and so it becomes an interesting engineering problem.”

Students learn about engineering failure, requirements and specifications, automation and computer assistance through a total hip replacement study and this module.

When it comes to testing student learning, d’Entremont emphasizes creativity.

For the course’s final project, students were tasked to create a video that unpacks relevant engineering technologies by using their new knowledge of engineering science principles, trade-offs and design decisions.

By the end of the semester, students have a solid grasp of engineering technical principles, without a prior background in science.

“I hope that’s empowering,” said d’Entremont. “They’re bringing in all these perspectives from economics, from political science, from gender, race, [sexuality] and social justice from all kinds of areas, and that’s what engineers need because we shouldn’t be the ones making the decisions, right?

It should be everybody. It should be everyone’s voice in the room.” U

OPINION

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITOR SPENCER IZEN

19

SELECTIVE SPEECH AND SILENCE //

Opinion: UBC’s inconsistent statements about international crises show selective solidarity Chaimae Chouiekh Contributor

Chaimae Chouiekh (she/her) is a Moroccan first-year Master of Journalism student with a background in finance, mathematics and communication. She aspires to pursue a career as an international reporter, focusing on topics related to community, politics, race and social justice. Her work reflects a dedication to amplifying underrepresented voices.

Navigating life as an international student can be quite a challenge.

One moment, you are cocooned in the warmth of familiar faces in a place you call “home,” and the next, you find yourself propelled into a foreign country. You spend your time figuring out currency conversions or struggling to find the right words in your second or third language. But most importantly, you continuously try to build a bridge between your new life and the one you left behind.

Many like myself, who hail from Morocco, keep juggling our schedules around precious calls with loved ones stay up to date with news. It’s comforting to believe that everything remains peaceful in our absence.

However, the tranquillity I have experienced since coming to Canada was unexpectedly shattered one late night with a single Al Jazeera English push notification: “Breaking News: over 2,000 dead as powerful earthquake hits Morocco near Marrakesh.” It left me in a state of turmoil and hopelessness as I checked-in with my relatives and lived through their distress and fear while being unable to provide any tangible assistance.

On September 8, the Kingdom of Morocco was violently hit by an unprecedented 6.8-magnitude earthquake. This disaster was the most devastating in Morocco’s recent history, killing more than 2,900 people, injuring 5,500 people and plunging the country into chaos.

As this heartbreaking news dominated international headlines, it was quite surprising and disheartening to see no mention of this international catastrophe in UBC’s official statements or communication channels the next morning.

Life at UBC seemed to follow its course while mine was flipped upside down. Here I was supposed to pretend that everything was fine when, on the other side of the planet, my community was in mourning.

The absence of a formal acknowledgment from the university highlighted just how essential such official statements are, especially during times of crisis. Official statements function as a beacon of reassurance, providing assistance and a collective voice of empathy for those directly affected. Moreover, these statements serve not only to offer support but also to acknowledge the pain and challenges faced by affected communities, validating their experiences.

By reliably issuing these statements, the university ensures that all members, especially those in

crisis, feel seen, heard and cared for. The latter is only true if these statements are released uniformly and consistently across the various crises unfolding around the globe.

In times of crisis, the absence of an official statement expressing sympathy and solidarity will undeniably evoke a profound sense of isolation and a feeling of being “overlooked.”

UBC’s vocalness on certain crises and its silence over others show signs of selective solidarity, making me question the motives behind such statements. Is it the gravity of the situation? The space it takes in the mediatic sphere? Or maybe the density of the UBC community affected by these tragedies?

Drawing upon Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assertion that “there is power in numbers,” one might observe that UBC’s silence on this matter indicates a perception that if a demographic isn’t sizable, its concerns may not be granted recognition.

To illustrate, following the recent case of the Indian-Canadian geopolitical conflicts, UBC promptly acknowledged and addressed the potential anxiety and stress affecting the community. While such an initiative is very needed and helpful to the affected community, one might speculate that UBC’s prompt response could have been influenced by the substantial Indian student population. This responsiveness can be seen as a testament to the university’s commitment to its diverse population when the numbers are indeed substantial. It may also reflect an understanding that the well-being of a large demographic has a profound impact on the broader university community, reinforcing the notion that there is indeed strength — and therefore attention afforded — in numbers.

Observing other Canadian universities acknowledging the earthquake and expressing solidarity with Morocco created a stark contrast in my mind. For instance, on September 12, the University of Toronto released a “Message to the University Community on the Earthquake in Morocco and Flooding in Libya” assuring that “The University will continue to monitor both situations and provide updates as needed.” The University of Dalhousie was also “reaching out directly to [their] students from Morocco and Libya.”

The issue extends beyond the mere content of these statements; it’s about the acknowledgment and unity demonstrated by peer academic institutions that UBC failed to embody during a critical situation.

Almost one week after the “Al Haouz” Moroccan earthquake, Islamic Relief UBC emerged as a beacon of compassion on campus.

They took the proactive initiative to organize a Krispy Kreme fundraiser featuring donuts with proceeds earmarked for the Moroccan cause. This heartfelt effort was swiftly followed by another fundraiser, which took place during the Muslim Student Association’s welcome-back social event on September 15. The funds raised during this event were destined for the

The issue extends beyond statements — it’s about acknowledgment, writes Chaimae Chouiekh.

International Development and Relief Foundation (IDRF), a trusted organization with strong ties to both international relief efforts and the Moroccan community.

These events marked the first occasion since the onset of the earthquake where a moment of silence and direct prayers were held on campus for all the Moroccan families who had lost everything in the disaster. It was the first time I felt not only heard and represented but also deeply touched by the empathy of those around me at UBC. Despite being the only Moroccan in the room, I found solace in that shared compassion.

This particular initiative underscores two observations.

First, it is often those who share similar backgrounds, experiences or beliefs who are more inclined to empathize with one’s suffering. In this case, it seemed that the Muslim community, perhaps drawing from shared cultural or religious ties, was more attuned to the urgency and significance of the Moroccan cause.

Second, it’s worth noting that the university itself appeared to abdicate its responsibility in responding to this humanitarian crisis. Instead, students came together to fill the gaps left by the institution, demonstrating the powerful need for fundraising and solidarity events on campus. This serves as a powerful reminder of the impact that collective student action can have on addressing pressing issues when the official channels fall short. The latter should be unacceptable to an institution branding itself as an

“inclusive intercultural space” with international students at the centre of its DNA. When the university neglects to extend condolences to any community, it leaves individuals grappling with a sense of being alone in their concerns. It’s more than just a matter of words on paper; it’s about the reassurance that, even in a foreign land, there is recognition and support for the emotional weight carried by those connected to the affected area.

One cannot claim to be a global institution while being selective about its solidarity and choosing which tragedies are worth public acknowledgment. On the contrary, the UBC community should stand united against any tragedy.

The act of acknowledging the pain and uncertainty that community members may be experiencing is not just a formality; it’s a crucial step in fostering a sense of belonging and solidarity during challenging times.

UBC’s ongoing silence on international matters risks perpetuating feelings of exclusion and unmet expectations, leaving students and staff to navigate their distress without the support of the institution they so desperately want to call home. But what is home if it shuts the door on you when you need it the most?

Unfortunately, this pattern of selective solidarity extends beyond the Moroccan earthquake.

UBC has also refrained from making official remarks about other significant global events, such as the Afghanistan earthquake, Libyan floods or pro-Palestine

MICHAEL RUFFOLO / THE UBYSSEY

protests happening on campus.

The fact that these communities are not considerable in terms of number on campus again suggests a correlation between the university’s response and the size of the respective international communities within the campus body.

This is a call not just for acknowledging specific incidents but for a more comprehensive and empathetic approach toward the global events that touch the lives of the UBC community.

Recognizing the interconnectedness of our world and standing in solidarity during moments of crisis is not just a fancy word to put on a university website; it is a crucial element of fostering an inclusive and supportive campus environment. Inclusive representation is not only about cultural diversity on campus but also about acknowledging and empathizing with the trials that affect different communities.

UBC, with all its resources, must do better at refining its communication approach to handling international crises. It stands to reason that the only path forward is for UBC to shoulder the responsibility for all its students and staff, embracing an empathetic stance as an educational pillar.

If such a powerful entity fails to recognize and address the pain within its community, one must wonder — who else will? U This is an opinion letter. It does not reflect the opinions of The Ubyssey as a whole. You can submit an opinion at ubyssey.ca/pages/submit-an-opinion

HUMOUR

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITOR JOCELYN BAKER

20

I GOT A SUB-SIX //

UBC Speedrunners leapfrog the competition Harry Sadleir Senior Staff Writer

Ever made it from Buchanan to ICICS in the 10 minutes between classes? Ever wandered into class late, soaking wet and sad? The members of UBC Speedrunners have (done the first thing). They go fast so they’re not late.

“Ironically enough, campus speedrunning is a marathon, not a sprint,” said Discord user SweatWeasel98 in a 360p video call on ubcsecure that cut out seconds later. “You don’t have to call me SweatWeasel98 in the article by the way, it’s just kind of my tag in the community.”

Even during our call, Weasel was training — preparing for his first attempts at beating a campus record that has stood for 15 months by running in place in his room. The category is called Tree%, so named for its finish line inside the Forestry building’s main lecture hall.

The rules are simple.

Start your run lying face down on the Crescent Road sidewalk just outside Buchanan D. At exactly 11:50 a.m. on a Wednesday while regular classes are in session, reach behind your back and press start on your Fitbit timer — UBC Speedrunners has loaner Fitbits if needed. Your goal is to take a seat in FSC 1001 as fast as

possible. There is one mandatory checkpoint at the Main Mall fountain to prevent, in Weasel’s words, “some wack-ass cheese.”

The category without this stipulation is AnyTree%, which has a much smaller community of runners who were too busy clipping through the Chemistry building to talk to me.

“The Discord has been innovating the past few months, and everyone is just waiting to see who can put the new strats to use in a full Tree% run,” said Weasel.

“The big one I’m trying to apply in my next run is an obstacle avoidance strat called ‘iterated leapfrog.’”

Iterated leapfrog is exactly what you think it is.

The hardest part of any Tree% run is the people. According to Weasel, pedestrians typically do not know a runner is attempting a historical feat when they’re shoved out of the way, so they tend not to yield when sped past on Main Mall. But runners have discovered that every Main Mall blockade has one thing in common: short people.

“Yeah you just have to jump over the short people, and when you land, find the next short person in your way and jump over them. Rinse, wash, repeat, and you might just have yourself a Tree% record. That’s the theory

Runners have discovered that every Main Mall blockade has one thing in common: short people.

at least,” said Weasel. “I don’t really think they mind, we’re so fast they probably don’t even notice.”

When asked for comment, a representative of UBC Short People Club Association said “the SPCA is firmly against this

concerning new trend.” When told it was a speedrun strategy, the representative walked back the statement, saying “woah, nevermind bro that actually sounds hype as hell.”

SweatWeasel98 holds three

ISA YOU / THE UBYSSEY

other campus records, the most impressive being 2amTree%.

You can watch their attempt at a fourth record on November 29, but if you are under 5’5” and do not want to be leapfrogged, you may want to stay inside. U

WRONG SECTION SORRY GUYS //

Thunderbirds game levels Vancouver

The Ubyssey writer assigned to cover this (Landen) was too busy bombing their midterm to see the game.

Corwin Davidson Contributor

In this week’s sports game between UBC’s Thunderbirds and UVic’s Vikes, a bunch of really interesting things happened.

Unfortunately, the Ubyssey writer assigned to cover this (Landen) was otherwise occupied bombing their midterm, and was unable to see the game proper. Fortunately for the sporting public, the writer’s six-year-old nephew was eyewitness to the event. This reliable source has graciously agreed to reenact it with the highest

accuracy.

The following account has been edited for length and clarity.

The game began at the first down, where the teams valiantly attacked each other, chainsaws raised. After this false start and a quick hosing down of the arena, the replacement teams were shoved out into the rink, where they eyed each other warily for a few minutes. Then, prodded by whispered threats of financial repercussion from their managers, the teams charged.

Very little of interest happened at first. The Thunderbirds were

THE UBYSSEY

able to hold third base in a brutal siege against their Victorian opponents, but the real action came from a prolonged bout of trench warfare in the end zone.

It was in the 17th inning that things really started to heat up.

The ‘Birds’ goalie, Bluey from Bluey, gained control of all three time-fracture wickets, and used them to poke the Vikes’ shortstop in the eye. They weren’t expecting the intrepid shortstop to pull another five wickets from their sleeve. With the shortstop’s mana recharged, the goalie was jousted into the penalty box.

Of course, things really started to heat up in the 87th parsec.

With a dextrous flash of a magic marker, the T-Birds’ fixer drew a pentagram on the turf, attempting to summon unspeakable powers from beyond the veil of existence to give him an assist. Our source knowing how to draw a pentagram and intone stuff like this is concerning, we have to admit.

Anyways, unfortunately for the T-Birds, the fixer had incorrectly parsed the mystic runes and instead summoned a pack of feral unicorns. The single-horned menaces wreaked havoc on the playing field until they were defeated by Bluey in a battle of such an epic scale that it can scarcely be understood, let alone described.

It was the √-7th penalty when things actually heated up. The Vikes’ rear quarterback turned into a LEGO plane and shot the north tower of Walter Gage at the opposition. The ‘Birds’ shields held, but they couldn’t return fire with photon torpedoes. Instead, the chief engineer loaded a suspiciously raw-looking Totem Park chicken wing into a toilet paper tube and fired that, inflicting Victoria’s finest with food poisoning.

All seemed lost for the Vikes, as even being a LEGO plane won’t help an upset stomach. But in their darkest hour, the Vikes’ cunning centre fielder waved his fingers around and made ominous mouth noises, thus traveling back in time to before the point of food poisoning. Just as the centre fielder stood atop the ice exulting in their victory, an enterprising

T-Bird gave them a good poke in the eye with a time fracture wicket, restarting the melee.

The metaphorical bottle having been uncorked on temporal warfare, both teams’ members began to slowly wink out of existence, as their opposing teams traveled back through the vortex to prevent their foes’ birth. The problem with this, of course, was that the overwriting of one member’s existence who had previously overwritten others caused those previously overwritten others to retroactively un-overwrite (underwrite? Who knows at this point) themselves, simultaneously re-overwriting others. This created numerous fascinating strategic opportunities, as players from both teams were intercepted

by T-Birds and Vikes players reappearing from the ether to stop a successful frisbee home run.

Eventually, the Vikes’ left centre backward sideways forward pulled a megaphone from their coat pocket and declared the time had come to end this through hand-to-hand combat. The T-Bird 3/8ths-back rose to the challenge, and both began to circle each other, as fight music from that one Star Trek episode began to play from nowhere. Vocalizing violently, both fighters’ hair lengthened and turned bright colors, as each unleashed 10 per cent of their full power and leveled Vancouver, thus bringing the game to an end.

Wow, what an exciting game!

The Ubyssey would have requested further details, but our source needs to be tucked in as it’s past their bedtime. U

SPORTS+REC

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITOR LAUREN KASOWSKI

21

POOL TIME //

Inclusive 2STNB swim sessions make a splash at UBC Aquatic Centre Rosemary Alberts Contributor

The Aquatic Centre introduced a new swim session specifically for Two Spirit, Trans and Non-Binary people (2STNB) at the end of September, and the response so far has been positive.

During 2STNB swim sessions, the UBC Aquatic Centre is open exclusively for individuals who identify as Two Spirit, Trans and Non-Binary, regardless of age or swimming ability. During this time, the Aquatic Centre’s blinds are lowered to provide privacy for swimmers. The leisure and recreation pools are open for open swim and length swim, and the diving boards are available for use.

The 2STNB swim was added “to expand the available activities and due to interest from the UBC student community,” according to a statement sent to The Ubyssey by Christine Saunders, operations manager for the UBC Aquatic Centre.

According to Saunders, the UBC Pride Collective hosted two Trans Welcome swims last year that had great attendance and provided a model to deliver this type of program

ISABELLA FALSETTI / THE UBYSSEY

Saunders expects the program to continue in Term 2.

in a welcoming and safe environment.

Zeke McLin, an attendee of the swim session, said that he found out about these hours from the UBC Pride Collective Instagram.

McLin was happy to see programs like this were being

implemented and felt comfortable throughout his experience at the swim.

Over the first two weeks of the program, attendance has increased.

“People could come as they are,” he said.

“For many people, the 2STNB

Swim was the first experience and interaction they have had with recreation at UBC, which is an encouraging sign that we are providing a needed service,” wrote Saunders.

Currently, UBC Recreation also offers one session of specialized fitness hour for 2STNB people,

where the ARC Lower Level Studio is made private and supervised by 2STNB staff. However, McLin would like to see these recreation programs expand further.

The 2STNB swim time will continue for the fall term on Friday evenings from 8–9:30 p.m. It is not confirmed past that point, as programming is reviewed on a termby-term basis.

But based on the initial response to these sessions, Saunders expects that this program will continue to be offered in Term 2.

For those who may find the aquatic environment too stimulating, sensory sensitive swim sessions have also been introduced this fall as an attempt to better serve different communities on campus, wrote Saunders. These sessions are offered on Wednesday mornings and include lowered blinds, fewer people, no loud noises such as announcements, whistles or hand dryers and dimmed lighting.

“To see many community members interacting with a UBC Recreation program for the first time is exciting and why we continue to build spaces where all can thrive and feel connected,” Saunders wrote. U

I’M NOT SUPERSTITUOUS BUT I AM A LITTLE ‘STITUOUS //

T-Birds advance to national football championship

Garrett Rooker threw 303 yards in the game.

Annaliese Gumboc Staff Writer

At Thunderbird Stadium on Saturday afternoon, the UBC football team claimed their first-ever Mitchell Bowl, breezing through the national semi-final with a 47–17 thrashing of the St. Francis Xavier X-Men. The ‘Birds set a good tone for the national Vanier Cup, shaking off a near-loss in last week’s conference championship to deliver a steady and decisive performance in the Mitchell Bowl.

The T-Birds found a rhythm early on, opening the game with a strong scoring drive booned by solid passing plays and capped by an 11-yard touchdown pass from quarterback Garrett Rooker to receiver Sam Davenport. Building momentum by the minute, the Thunderbirds hit paydirt again on their third possession, ex-

ZOE WAGNER / THE UBYSSEY

tending their lead to 14–0 before the X-Men could manage a first down.

Home field advantage likely played a role in lending UBC a crucial early lead. Hailing from Nova Scotia, the X-Men offence looked sluggish in the first quarter, going two-and-out with their first two possessions, potentially due to the intense travel.

They began to gain ground on the Thunderbird defence as the first quarter expired, finally moving the chains to embark on an 84-yard, four-minute scoring drive. Suddenly, the game appeared to even out, with the X-Men playing to par and the ‘Birds possessing a tenuous seven-point lead.

A successful field goal for the ‘Birds brought the score to 17–7, but UBC’s lead still felt fragile — especially as the X-Men put together another long drive toward the end

of the second culminating in a field goal. The ‘Birds responded with a messy drive and missed field goal attempt to close out the half, boding poorly for the upcoming quarters.

As their offence took the field to start the second half, the X-Men had a vital opportunity to tie the game, and they seemed eager to capitalize on it. St. FX quarterback Silas Fagnan attempted to force a deep shot to a receiver in double coverage, with no separation from UBC’s Jason Soriano. But Thunderbird defensive back Max Kennedy picked off Fagnan and UBC put seven more points on the board.

The Thunderbird defence came out strong on St. FX’s next offensive drive, forcing the X-Men to punt from their one yard-line after a quick two-and-out. On a stunning return, rookie defensive back Cesare Rednour-Bruckman caught the

punt around the UBC 50-yard line and charged forward, finding gaps between X-Men then running up the left sideline, all the way to the end zone.

In the span of a few minutes, the score changed from 17–10 to 31–10.

With 10 minutes left in the third quarter, the X-Men could orchestrate a comeback. But St. FX’s mistakes mounted as they grew increasingly desperate, failing to regain their composure despite a late touchdown. Meanwhile, the ‘Birds played with increasing confidence, capitalizing on the bounty of St. FX turnovers for a final score of 47–17.

UBC last competed in the semi-final round eight years ago, when they outclassed St. FX 36–9 en route to a victory over the University of Montréal Carabins in the Vanier Cup. The win over the X-Men sends the ‘Birds to their first Vanier Cup since 2015, pitting them against Montréal in a rematch for Canada’s national title.

The ‘Birds hope history will continue repeating.

“My brother was on the 2015 team when they won,” said Kennedy. “And I just remember watching it on the TV, and just imagining getting my own.”

“We’re probably going in not the favorite, but that’s okay,” said head coach Blake Nill. “We’re big enough, we’re strong enough to compete. It’s a one-game, winnertake-all type thing and we’re going to come in there and give it our best shot.”

The Thunderbirds will battle the Carabins for the Vanier Cup on November 25 in Kingston, Ontario. U

SCOREBOARD Wednesday, November 15 *RUG (M), quarterfinal

Dinos

W

41–3

Friday, November 17 BBALL (W)

at Huskies

L

76–63

BBALL (M)

at Huskies

W

82–78

HKY (W)

at Huskies

W

2–1

HKY (M)

Huskies

L

6–2

VBALL (W)

Wolfpack

W

3–0

VBALL (M)

Wolfpack

W

3–1

*RUG (M), semi-final

Gryphons

W

30–10

Saturday, November 16 FB

X-Men

W

47–17

BBALL (W)

at Huskies

L

77–62

BBALL (M)

at Huskies

L

78–75

HKY (W)

at Huskies

L

2–1

HKY (M)

Huskies

L

4–3

VBALL (W)

Wolfpack

W

3–0

VBALL (M)

Wolfpack

L

3–1

W

41–7

Sunday, September 10 *RUG (M), Vikes championship final *National tournament

SCIENCE

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY

EDITOR TOVA GASTER

22

NOBODY EVER TALKS ABOUT SINGLE-EDGED SWORDS//

‘A double-edged sword’: How UBC educators are adapting to ChatGPT through collaboration

ANYA A AMEEN / THE UBYSSEY

Mandy Huynh Contributor

AI experts and leaders from around the world gathered for the first-ever AI Safety Summit earlier this month to figure out how AI should be regulated internationally.

UBC scholars are at the forefront of grappling with generative AI on a smaller, but equally important, scale — in the classroom.

A June 2023 UBC report described ChatGPT as a “double-edged sword” that will take time to learn to wield safely and effectively.

According to the report, “ethical, intentional and acknowledged use has been UBC’s approach to date and seems a wise course to

stay.” The only certainty is uncertainty.

In the absence of cohesive policy, UBC instructors are trying out new things on the classroom level and collaborating to share ideas.

MEET THE STEERING COMMITTEE

UBC recently formed a Generative AI Steering Committee, with AI and education experts including Dr. Christina Hendricks and Dr. Elisa Baniassad, academic director for the Centre for Teaching, Learning and Technology (CTLT).

The committee also includes Dr. Jeff Clune, associate professor of computer science and previous research team leader at OpenAI — the company that creat-

ed ChatGPT. The steering committee is meant to create guidelines for UBC around safe, ethical and productive engagement with AI. This includes making sure ChatGPT goes through privacy impact assessment, which all new technology and platforms need, as well as consulting with faculty about how the technology is impacting their work.

Hendricks recognizes that it can create a challenging work environment for instructors to properly integrate the technology in their classes. Hendricks is the temporary vice-provost and associate vice-president, teaching and learning. For instructors dealing with catching and penalizing massive influxes of AI-generated work, ChatGPT might not seem like such an intriguing innovation.

“In some cases, [using ChatGPT is] not appropriate at all, where it’s very important for students to be doing the work to engage in the learning,” said Hendricks.

Hendricks said that a Teaching and Learning Subcommittee within the Generative AI Steering Committee will be established to absorb feedback from both faculty and students to learn how to provide the best support for everyone.

However, while ChatGPT is notorious as a cheating aid, it also has potential for education. Computer science professor and acting director for the Centre for Teaching and Learning Baniassad said that she uses it to help her design robust exam questions, which is a traditionally laborious task.

A LEARNING ‘CRUTCH’ Dr. Jennifer Jenson, professor of digital languages, literacies & cultures, is excited about leveraging generative AI tools to create more equitable learning conditions for students. She said that ChatGPT can be useful for English language learners as a translation and English grammar aid.

However, she is worried about students using ChatGPT as a “crutch,” inhibiting real learning and understanding.

Jenson admitted that ChatGPT can generate some surprisingly good research questions, if often generic and repetitive. If students come to rely on this tool, they fail to learn how to form their own questions, which could lead to a deeper loss of important cognitive skills.

The many limitations of ChatGPT are veiled under the facade of human-like intelligence, though “not an ‘intelligence’ that we as humans recognize,” said Jenson. Making students aware of this misconception is important.

“What is [ChatGPT] going to take away at the same time it’s giving something? How do we measure and understand that?” asked Jenson.

PRIMARY PRIVACY CONCERNS

One of the most pressing concerns with ChatGPT from a teaching standpoint is protecting students’ privacy, Baniassad said.

Signing up for ChatGPT requires

inputting personal information that again, no one outside of OpenAI knows where it goes.

Then, from the prompts that you give ChatGPT, what information does it retain? How and where does it store and use that information in the future? Baniassad said this isn’t something a lot of users are thinking about: “Say they have worked for five years on like a thesis, and they put their theorem into ChatGPT ... ChatGPT will remember your theorem and it will think it thought of it.”

Much of how ChatGPT works under the hood is still unclear to the general public.

Nevertheless, ChatGPT and other tools like it seem here to stay, so Hendricks is focused on supporting its use while ensuring students’ safety.

“How can we support the opportunities that this provides for teaching and learning while also managing and addressing the risks that it provides, including ethical considerations?”

Another major ethical concern for Hendricks is AI bias, which happens when an AI program is trained on or learns from inaccurate and prejudiced data. This can cause the AI to insidiously perpetuate and reinforce discrimination, stereotypes, and other inequalities. OpenAI’s Educator FAQ webpage admits as much.

CTLT and the computer science department are currently working on a way to use ChatGPT’s application programming interface (API) to allow UBC

NOVEMBER 21, 2023 TUESDAY | SCIENCE | 23 staff and students to use ChatGPT with appropriate security measures in place. An API refers to a publicly-released instruction manual for software which allows third-party developers to easily access its features for use in other applications.

Baniassad estimates that UBC will release a safer, regulated way of interacting with ChatGPT by next fall.

‘AN EXCITING TIME TO BE AN EDUCATOR’

Given the novelty of ChatGPT and the unfamiliar puzzles it poses, all three education experts The Ubyssey spoke to emphasized collaboration as a key to finding successful solutions.

“I think [ChatGPT is] one of these strange new technologies where everybody can bring something from their own perspective, which is why coming together as interdisciplinary communities is so important,” said Baniassad. “I think there is so much we can learn from each other.”

For example, Baniassad said that medical school, which traditionally uses rigorous oral exams to test students’ knowledge, could

be a useful examination method to test in other disciplines in the era of generative AI. Both software engineering, which Baniassad teaches, and medicine are disciplines which hinge on actually being able to apply your learning.

“It’s nice to know that somebody asked [your doctor], how do you do this surgery? And got a verbal response,” said Baniassad.

ChatGPT is sparking discussions about whether other disciplines can or should test in the same way. “[Software engineering] is an instinct, it’s a process, it’s a practice,” said Baniassad. “So how do we assess that?”

In working together, instructors learn from each others’ stories. A guide for assessment redesign on CTLT’s website provides a platform for instructors to share how they are using ChatGPT in their classrooms. CTLT is UBC’s pedagogy resource hub, hosting weekly online group drop-in clinics, one-on-one consultations, workshops, forums and more.

This includes moving away from take-home writing assessments and towards in-class exams and oral assessments.

Jenson is one such storyteller.

In an assignment for her course ETEC 511, Foundations of Educational Technology, she encourages students to use ChatGPT to answer research questions, and asks them to critically compare their own individually-researched responses to the chatbot’s. Critical thinking is especially important when engaging with ChatGPT, which can currently confidently spout falsities disguised as truths.

Jenson said that she shared the assignment with other educators to experiment with by adapting it to their own classrooms.

“Often, the best resources for faculty are colleagues for advice because they can offer more directly relevant examples,” said Hendricks.

The first day of the historic AI Safety Summit concluded “with a panel discussion on the transformative opportunities of AI for public good now and in the long-term, with a focus on how it can be used by teachers and students to revolutionise education,” according to a UK government press release.

“It’s an exciting time to be an educator,” said Baniassad. U

YOUR PRACTICAL NEXT STEP: POST-DEGREE DIPLOMA IN PROFESSIONAL COMMUNICATION

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ALWAYS ON THAT DAMN PHONE //

Drowning in notifications? Research recommends ‘digital spring cleaning’ to cut down on distraction

ANYA A AMEEN / THE UBYSSEY

Arjun Swani Contributor

Deadlines and midterms loom around the corner. With your favorite study spot secured, your laptop primed and your notes laid out, you’re ready to conquer your to-do list. You find your focus and enter a state of flow — only to be pulled away by the familiar ding of your phone.

Cellphone notifications are engineered to demand attention. Remarkably adept at their purpose, notification distractions have been shown to have a significant impact on attentive processes.

Simply receiving a notification is enough to switch the brain into a “multi-task” mode. These distractions cause stress in users

especially when the interruptions are not relevant. They have also been found to decrease productivity and attentiveness.

A study done by researchers at UBC’s eDAPT lab to compare notification perceptions unveiled a spectrum of attitudes varying from “resignation” to accepting “necessary annoyances.”

Even participants who made an effort to curate their notification streams often found themselves frustrated.

Dr. Joanna McGrenere, cohead of UBC’s computer science department and lead of the eDAPT research group, has extensive experience in the field of computer-human interaction.

She said that the realm of notification interaction is intricate

and unique. With no universal template that would cater to all users, a non-distracting notification setting requires input and customization.

According to her, what constitutes an acceptable notification varies from one person to another and can evolve based on their specific context.

“I’m at work, and so for the most part, I don’t want to get text messages and so on and so forth,” said McGrenere, “unless they’re from my kids who are having an emergency.”

McGrenere highlighted that the current management options are either too “black and white” or “cumbersome.” The simplest option, turning off notifications altogether, risks missing crucial

information and fails to accommodate the fact that users may be more receptive to certain notifications at specific times.

On the other hand, setting up rules to filter or highlight certain notifications requires time and effort. Most people are unconvinced that the energy spent personalizing their settings is worth the payoff and end up accustomed to notification distraction.

Research highlights that it often takes a significant event to motivate them to make a change.

One participant in the study described a barrage of notifications from a mobile game app they no longer used. The fact that they tolerated irrelevant notifications for so long shows how easily we become accustomed to

annoying stimuli.

Another study by the eDAPT laboratory explores how by showing users their notification data in accessible visual diagrams along with providing tailored suggestions to their notification settings can inspire them to undertake a “reflective spring cleaning” of their feeds.

After collecting two weeks’ of data, participants engaged in reflection discussions with the research team.

The majority of participants were found to have underestimated the volume of notifications they received. Notably, all participants accepted changes proposed by the researchers in a follow-up interview, with some even proposing their own modifications.

The self-reflection they did during the study prompted participants to feel more open to reflecting further and making changes to their notification settings. The study underscored that intuitive and relevant customisation workflows can have a long-lasting and constructive influence on user-notification interaction.

A follow-up with all 21 participants found that their personalized settings had a positive impact.

Popular mobile platforms come with options to visualize screen time or storage, which can help people get a better sense of what their phone or storage usage looks like. Users can then get suggestions from that data such as to set screentime limits for specific apps or delete high-storage apps.

There isn’t anything like that for notifications.

McGrenere said tools like the “Focus” mode on iOS and Android systems are a step in the right direction towards empowering people to prioritize digital well-being. U

NOVEMBER 21 2023 TUESDAY | GAMES | 16

CROSSWORD PUZZLE ACROSS 1 Two bags of groceries, say 8 Studded shoes 14 Wallet material 15 S 16 Mythic box opener 17 Large squirrel 18 Spotify’s Top 50 19 O 21 Blueprint detail, for short 23 Q&A session that may proceed a post from 25-Across 24 ___ Mahal 25 r/AITA judgment for when all parties involved are wrong 26 U

30 Like a waistband 34 Dictate from a list 38 This evening, over text 39 Sacred Egyptian beetle 40 What one may do in a game of Among Us 42 ___ pedestrians (road sign) 43 40th first family 45 Provider of entertainment to 46-Down 48 Giancarlo’s character in “Breaking Bad” 49 TBH or OMG, e.g.

51 P 53 The Metamorphosis protagonistS 55 Villain’s hideout

56 Industry of Walmart and Target 58 To legally seize a possession 60 Facetious Spanish term for a foreigner 61 Jesus cursed a fruitless one 62 Mukbanger’s activity 63 Status of an Orchard Commons resident

one 13 Satisfies 20 Half-___ (coffee order) 22 Noted maker of 1-Down 26 Say 27 North, to Khloe 28 Sticky pine stuff 29 Clubs for swingers?

31 Cindy ___ Who 32 Ques. response 33 Small taste 35 Nova Scotian uni 36 Chicago airport code 37 Word preceding chance or cat 41 Language spoken in the Philippines 42 Glamorous glow up that may involve FaceApp

44 ___-sole sneakers 46 Squad leader, familiarly 47 Beethoven only wrote one 49 Bull: prefix 50 Bedding material 52 Arguing 53 An astrology buff may ask for yours 54 Parisian gal pal 55 Tolkien’s trilogy, for short 57 Singer DiFranco 59 Org. for drivers?

DOWN

NAOMI NG / THE UBYSSEY

1 MRE for a kid, or a hint to the circled clues 2 Prepare to fire again 3 Ocean ray with a wingspan of up to 30 ft 4 Relative of Inc.s 5 “I see what you’re trying to do” 6 Bubbly chocolate bar 7 Severe, as some measures 8 One learning about recursion and algorithms 9 Their pants may be on fire 10 Ever, poetically 11 Big guns, both figuratively and literally 12 Enemies to lovers, for

SUDOKU

OCTOBER 30, 2023 VOLUME CV | ISSUE IX

CROSSWORD SOLUTION

COURTESY KRAZYDAD.COM

Be like Naomi.

Send game ideas or comics to visuals@ubyssey.ca.

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