July 31, 2024 - Press the Issue

THE UBYSSEY

territory of the Coast Salish peoples, including the xʷməθkʷəyəm (Musqueam), Skwxwu7mesh (Squamish), Sto:lo and səli lwətaɁɬ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh). racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, harassment or discrimination. Authors and/or submissions will not be precluded from publication based solely on association with particular ideologies or subject matter that some may find objectionable. Approval for publication is, however, dependent on the

Kimberly Bain’s classroom is a space for refusal, dreaming, transformation

Thisarticlecontainsmentionsof policebrutality.

Following the murder of George Floyd, the Black Lives Matter movement received more attention than ever before. Many promises to improve were made: by corporations, educational institutions and individuals — but how many of these claims actually saw further action?

Stories like Floyd’s and the actions — or lack thereof — that resulted from them have shaped many aspects of Dr. Kimberly Bain’s role as an assistant English professor at UBC.

“At the time, many institutions had been making promises to hire more Black faculty or to support Black studies initiatives as a result of George Floyd protests. But despite making these sort of statements, a lot of universities did not actually commit to these kinds of projects,” said Bain in an interview with The Ubyssey

“They said the thing that they wanted to say, so they could get the kind of applause that they wanted, and then in the end didn’t actually manifest those things materially within the university system.”

Formerly the Tufts University John Holmes Assistant Professor in the HumanIties, Bain now teaches and studies the histories, theories, philosophies and aesthetics of Black people in the English department at UBC.

Bain’s move to Canada was largely influenced by the downfalls of American academia. She was looking for an institution willing to expand — somewhere hiring scholars who actively engage with urgent social and political issues, a place that allows them to teach these topics without censorship.

Although she recognizes that UBC and other Canadian institutions are not free of criticism, from her perspective, these issues do not play out on the same scale.

“In the States, the way that academia is structured is that it is

around with audio and video.

While an essay is a logical way to discuss ideas, this might not actually be what we want to achieve as academics. How can you understand the complexity of a topic if you restrict your thinking and expression of ideas to a written argument?

“A much more consolatory form of thinking can really actually benefit us all when we’re thinking about how things relate to each other in the world, and how such structures of power function,” Bain said. “Power doesn’t just function as a top-down thing.”

Embracing creativity and the joy that comes out of it is especially important to Bain. To her, it’s a way of practicing balance. Her field of study can be heavy and traumatic — both to learn about and to teach — so knowing when to step away or delegate responsibilities is just as important as her work itself.

hyper-neoliberal, hyper-capitalist. It’s also dependent on the contingent labour of lecturers … Similar things [are] happening, of course, in Canada. But the depth of that kind of extraction, or the depth of that kind of predation, is far more widespread in the States.”

Despite now being a professor, Bain didn’t originally intend to pursue further education after completing her undergrad — she assumed it wasn’t financially feasible for someone living in the US. But when one of her professors encouraged her to apply and she started to look into the possibility of pursuing grad school, she realized this future could become her reality.

The start of her graduate studies coincided with the death of Eric Garner, which influenced the direction she took when deciding where to focus her research. Garner’s death was ruled a homicide in 2014.

“This was a key consideration for me,” she said. “This is a moment in which a Black man is being choked by the police. So how do we think about not just policing but also legacies of medical racism, environmental racism, that result in Black people suffocating in other ways and other forms?”

One of Bain’s projects, OnBlack Breathdives into breathing and Blackness and how they have proven to be interconnected throughout time. Although the book is a work of scholarly theory, Bain experiments with poetic style and integrates the practice of collaging — she lays out her ideas in ways that appeal to different styles of thinking and understanding.

“I like to think of my work as an educator and as a thinker to be necessarily intertwined with the kinds of creative undertakings that we might take in our personal time, like collaging,” she said.

Bain carries this desire to investigate academic questions through creative projects into the English courses she teaches.

Her students can expect to have quite a bit of freedom over the methods they use to share what they’ve learned — they may sculpt with clay, bake a cake or play

Bain maintains a solid circle of friends and colleagues and makes time for grounding activities; in her case, pottery, baking and hiphop dance (which she admits she doesn’t consider herself being very good at, but loves nonetheless).

Although she recognizes that finding your support system is a self-guided process, Bain tries to help her students build a community of their own in her courses.

“You have to find your people. [That] means finding folks who are aligned and committed to the same kind of vision for a better world, or a vision for a different world, as yourself.”

The steps she takes to encourage collaboration are simple to implement in the classroom — having students learn each other’s names is more than is typically expected in a university-level course.

Bain doesn’t call on her students — they call on each other by name and are encouraged to refer back to and build off of their classmates’ ideas.

“I am here to help shape or help refine things, but if there’s a person sitting next to you, or across from you, learn their name and really think critically about how they’re helping you learn what you know about the world around you,” Bain said.

Learning to appreciate the perspective that the person sitting next to you brings to the table is not synonymous with agreement — in fact, for Bain, disagreeing with a take is as important as accepting one.

Ultimately, any conclusion from active dialogue can help shape your own views and help you understand them more than any traditional lecture — someone talking at you, rather than with you — can.

“We can do this the way that the university would like us to do it, which is how you come in, I deliver something and you walk out, and you’re not changed,” Bain said.

“Or we do this the way that Black feminist scholars for many, many decades have been imagining this, which is that the community space can be a space of refusal, a space of dreaming, a space of transformation.”

Ubyssey periodically receives

Elena Massing Culture Editor

Bain embraces creativity and all the joy that comes out of it. ISA S. YOU / THE UBYSSEY

Students create UBC Course Scheduler app

Armaana Thapar Contributor

A group of UBC students created UBC Scheduler, an app to facilitate scheduling courses on Workday Student.

The UBC Scheduler team is a group of UBC students who secured funding from the AMS Student Initiatives Fund and UBC eHub to create the app, which works as an add-on to Workday.

UBC has transitioned from the Student Service Centre (SSC) to Workday Student for the upcoming 2024/25 Winter Session. Students have expressed concern online with Workday’s scheduling and registration functions.

In an interview with The Ubyssey, UBC Scheduler developers Seungwon Lim and Ryan Dick said effort has gone into making the app as functional as possible.

“We’ve spent a lot of time on really optimizing the speed of this algorithm … so you can get your schedule immediately,” said Dick.

From its option to specify a consistent class start time to its ability for students to drag and drop courses, Dick said all app features have been “very, very meticulously planned.”

Lim and Dick said that even on the SSC, it had been “a pain

USB-EWARE! //

to create your schedule,” and that recent Workday student frustrations were not the motivation for the app’s creation.

“Workday came after our app was launched,” said Lim. “Bringing this together took years of work.”

UBC’s transition to Workday has increased the app’s pop -

ularity, with UBC Scheduler boasting about 20,000 unique users in just the last month.

“People want to try something different because they find it very difficult to navigate … Workday,” said Dick. “Everyone’s looking for alternatives.”

Dick also said UBC Scheduler features should be imple -

mented into Workday Student.

“The goal [at the] end [of the] day is that we shouldn’t have these tools. They should already be part of the system,” said Dick.

The app placed third in the student entrepreneurship competition Innovation OnBoard and won $2,000.

Lim also said UBC Scheduler is a prime example of why students should create the change they want to see.

“Some of that responsibility really lies on students as well,” said Lim. “We cannot forget that … we do have some power to implement and get things [to] happen.” U

UBC Lost and Found unable to return storage drives

Ishan Choudhury Contributor

UBC is unable to return lost storage drives due to inabilities to prove item ownership.

In a Reddit post, one user said they were unable to retrieve their SD device from the UBC lost and found due to the department’s policy on storage devices.

According to the Reddit user, the office was also unable to insert the drive into a computer to prove ownership in case the drive contained viruses or malware.

The Reddit user also said the office would not allow them to insert the drive into their own computer because “there is a liability that [the user] might

get some viruses and sue” the university and because if there was illegal content on the drive UBC could be held liable for disseminating it.

The Reddit user also said they remained unable to repossess their SD card even after offering to waive liability.

In a statement to TheUbyssey, Director of UBC Bookstore and

Parking Services Brian Jones wrote while “UBC’s Lost and Found office ... is committed to reuniting lost items with their rightful owners,” the department does “not have a method in place for safely assessing the contents stored on the device in a way that does not risk UBC systems or the owner’s privacy.’”

“Lost and Found will be

reviewing its processes to determine if there are other options to safely and securely handle found data storage devices,” Jones said.

Jones recommended UBC students “use the various methods available to them as students, faculty and staff members to securely back-up data.” U

UBC Scheduler developers said effort has gone into making the app as functional as possible.

UBC is unable to return lost storage drives due to inabilities to prove item ownership.

MICAH SÉBASTIEN ZHANG / THE UBYSSEY

VICTORIA LEE / THE UBYSSEY

GST and HST removed on counselling therapy and psychotherapy services

Himanaya Bajaj Senior Staff Writer

In June, the federal government amended Bill C-59 to remove GST and HST on counselling therapy and psychotherapy services.

The 2023 Fall Economic Statement had proposed adding psychotherapists and counselling therapists to the list of health care practitioners whose services are exempt from GST and HST. This change aimed to make mental health services more affordable and accessible. The proposal received royal assent from the enacting legislation on June 21. Services covered by provincial public health care plans are not subject to GST or HST. This tax exemption includes most services provided by physicians, dentists, nurses and certain health care professionals such as optometrists and midwives.

The AMS/GSS Health & Dental Plan’s mental health coverage has decreased in previous years from $1,500 per year to $1,250 per year to maintain the AMS’s financial sustainability.

The AMS also planned to reduce coverage in 2023 from 100 per cent to 80 per cent due to

financial instability until the AMS secured a one-time contribution of $500,000 from UBC. This contribution reinstated coverage to 100 per cent. The amendment comes

after extensive advocacy from the Canadian Counselling and Psychotherapy Association (CCPA).

“This bill will transform the mental health care landscape in

Canada by removing financial barriers that prevent many indiviudals from providing and accessing vital therapy services,” wrote CCPA President Carrie Foster in a press release. U

Community members gather in solidarity with students in Bangladesh

nationwide protests in Bangladesh regarding the allocation of government jobs.

Aisha Chaudhry News Editor

On July 19, 30 UBC community members gathered outside the UBC Bookstore chanting “we want justice” while holding Bangladeshi flags and signs reading “stop violence against students," in solidarity with students in Bangladesh. There have been nationwide protests in Bangladesh regarding the allocation of government jobs. In Bangladesh, there is a quota system that reserves 30 per cent of civil service jobs — which are often highly sought after and well paid — for families of veterans who fought in Bangladesh’s independence

from Pakistan in 1971.

This system has been in place since 1972, but was abolished by current Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina in 2018 after weeks of student protests for the systems' abolition where protestors also faced violence and arrests from police. This was until the High Court of Bangladesh reinstated the decision in early July.

On July 21, the Supreme Court of Bangladesh scaled back the High Court’s decision by making the jobs reserved for veteran families five per cent. Now, the protests have shifted to demand apologies and resignations of those

responsible for the violence that was deployed against students and resulted in deaths and arrests.

Bangladeshi Student Association Co-President Rudaba Tabassum said, “We have never as a country … been in a situation like this where our own families, our loved ones are so unreachable.”

On July 18, the government imposed nationwide curfews and an internet blockade that are both ongoing.

Tabassum said it’s important for community members to gather in solidarity even if they are not in Bangladesh as they need “international pressure” for the

PALESTINIAN SOLIDARITY GROUP HOLDS SILENT SIT-IN OUTSIDE KOERNER LIBRARY

On July 22, protesters held a silent sit-in in front of Walter C. Koerner Library to further pressure UBC to meet their demands after the encampment ended on July 7.

People’s University UBC organized the sit-in and were also the group behind the two-month long Palestinian solidarity encampment. Protesters sat outside Koerner Library, with signs reading, “UBC must divest” and “let Palestine live.”

Protesters distributed flyers to passersby with their demands which call on UBC to divest from companies complicit in Palestinian human rights abuses, boycott Israeli universities and institutions and publicly condemn what organizers and human rights experts call a genocide in Gaza.

According to a report issued by a United Nations-appointed independent expert, there are “reasonable grounds” to believe Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.

In a statement to The Ubyssey, acting senior director of UBC Media Relations Matthew Ramsey wrote, “UBC values freedom of expression and respects peaceful protest. These actions must always be taken with respect for others and within the boundaries of university policy and the law.”

“Campus Security was present during the demonstration ... Some doors to Koerner were temporarily locked to secure the building,” wrote Ramsey.

On Instagram, People’s University UBC said the UN’s International Court of Justice’s ruling — that Israel’s continued presence in the occupied Palestinian territory is unlawful and should end — “imposes a compelling obligation to divest from companies implicated.”

“We are still here, organizing together, and we will not stop until our goals are achieved.”

UBC MARCHING IN 2024 VANCOUVER PRIDE PARADE

Bangladeshi government to make change.

“That's why we as Bangladeshi students feel the need to gather … to be able to get that attention from the world that this is something that's been happening and we should talk about it [and] should create that pressure around this subject” said Tabassum.

Musanna Galib, a member of the Bangladeshi Grad Alliance, said, “Our goal is to reach global media, people from all around the world so that they know what's going on.”

“We need their support.” U

UBC’s Queer Faculty and Staff Collective is organizing a group of UBC community members to march in this year’s Vancouver Pride Parade happening from August 4.

UBC Associate Vice-President, Equity & Inclusion Arig al Shaibah encouraged community members to learn more about the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, writing in a statement to TheUbyssey , “Systemic change efforts are everyone’s responsibility.”

“We are committed to continuing our engagement with 2SLGBTQIA+ community groups in order to understand their experiences and needs and opportunities,” al Shaibah wrote. U

The proposal received royal assent from the enacting legislation on June 21.

EMILIJA HARRISON / THE UBYSSEY

Aisha Chaudhry News Editor

There have been

EMILIJA HARRISON / THE UBYSSEY

Bánh mì, the mirror of my soul

Vicky Nguyen Senior Staff Writer

The rusty motorcycle took a sharp swerve, slightly tossing my damp backpack. Sitting in the backseat under the poncho flap extending from my father’s back, I tried to guess our location through the thick curtain of monsoon rain.

It wasn’t long before I could smell the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked baguette, signalling my arrival at the bánh mì stall near my elementary school in Saigon, Vietnam.

“A sausage bánh mì with all veggies, please,” said my father to the middle-aged woman behind the stall. Her calloused hands started to perform magic — a ritual I never failed to watch with fascination.

She split a golden baguette in half, spread pâté all over the fluffy white insides of the loaf, then added sausage slices and cilantro, green onion and daikon pickles, finally topping the marvellous creation with a dash of chili sauce.

At 7 a.m. sharp, I got off the motorcycle in front of the school gate and waved goodbye to my father. The warmth of the bánh mì radiated in my hand, reminding me of his twinkling eyes.

An explosion of flavours — creamy pâté intertwining with crispy baguette and electrifyingly hot chilis — woke me up better than any coffee as I bit the loaf behind the newspaper wrapping.

NO,

REALLY, I LOVE BREAD //

Simit:

Yagmur Oguz Contributor

When I left my hometown, mornings enjoying bánh mì with my father on the motorcycle were replaced by coffee-fueled rides on the 49 bus to UBC. Eyelids weighed down by late night studying — I still never fell asleep on the bus. I looked out at lush rows of maples lining the streets, sunlight streaming through the windows, groups of students chatting merrily on the way to campus.

The childhood bánh mì was no longer there, but my longing for it was always present. I was thousands of miles away from the maze-like streets of Saigon and the

memories of breakfast on the go with my father.

Bánh mì represents my soul, a mixture of all characters — soft as the fluffy white dough, but always full of a vibrant zest for life like the spicy chilis and fragrant herbs. The baguette and pâté of French colonizers, combined with traditional Vietnamese ingredients like fresh herbs, bridge two worlds together — a representation of my cross-cultural upbringing.

There are countless versions of bánh mì one will find on the streets of Vietnam — from the traditional ham and canned fish to grilled pork — that will never

Bread and belonging

It’s an interesting feeling, the desire to write a love letter to a place I’ve only truly known for a number of years I can count on one hand. Walking through the busy streets of Istanbul after having moved to Vancouver 16 years ago is an experience filled with many sensations, both familiar and not.

It’s orderly chaos — the instinctual kindness of strangers blended with reckless driving and excessive use of the car horn. It’s a place where, despite its many flaws, the warmth of its people never seems to fade.

Perhaps the most familiar element of them all is the comforting smell of simit sold on nearly every street corner. At a red cart on wheels, there’s often a rather passionate man yelling to “come and get ‘em!” with an attitude that seems far too enthusiastic for someone who’s been standing in the scorching hot sun all day. It feels in tune with the culture, because if there’s one thing Turkish people know best, it’s how to cook — and how to persuade others to eat. A love language.

Encrusted in golden brown sesame seeds, simit is the quintessential ring-shaped bread pastry for a Turkish breakfast or afternoon snack. With a crunchy crust and a soft, fluffy inside, they’re traditionally paired with some cheese, olives and most importantly, some hot çay (Turkish tea).

Whenever I go back to visit my

hometown, I discover something new about my Turkish identity. I sometimes fear my connection to the culture will fade after spending so much time away, but as I walk around, I realize that all of the things I love about Istanbul have seeped into my family home in Vancouver. In our names, our language, our humour, the home decor, the music and most definitely the food. It’s in the little things, like when the aroma of freshly baked simit fills my home every now and then, that I’m reminded of the insignificance of distance and time when it comes to feeling a sense of belonging.

RECIPE

Makes 10 servings.

• 3 ½ cups of flour

• 1 teaspoon of salt

• 1 tablespoon of instant yeast (fast action)

• 1 ¾ cups of lukewarm water

• ½ cup of molasses

• ¼ cup of lukewarm water

• 2 cups toasted sesame seeds

Combine the flour and salt in a large bowl. Make a little pool in the middle of the flour, then mix the instant yeast and warm water in the space in the middle. Give the yeast one minute to activate.

Little by little, start folding the flour from the sides into the centre, then knead the dough with your hands until it becomes smooth and soft (the dough will be quite sticky).

After about five minutes of kneading, cover the dough with a cloth and set it aside to proof for one hour. It should nearly double in size.

While your dough is getting its well-deserved rest, prepare your station to add some special touches. Combine the molasses and water in a large, flat bowl and put the toasted sesame seeds in another. If you have white sesame seeds, gently toast them for a couple minutes on the stove until they get golden brown. Stir them occasionally to ensure they don’t burn — this is a crucial step! Preheat the oven to 300°C.

After your dough has rested, cut it into 10 even sections. Split each section into two and roll them into long strands with your hands. Pinch the two strands together at the top and twist them on a flat surface to create a braid. Connect the ends to make a circle. This takes a bit of practice, so each one may look a little different from the next. Have fun with the shaping — it’s my favourite part.

Dip each simit into the molasses bowl (both sides) and then in the sesame seed bowl to fully coat them. You want as many seeds as you can get to stick on there! Place them on a parchment paper-lined baking tray and press them down gently. Ensure all sides of the simit are even in thickness.

Bake them for about 20 minutes. You’ll know they’re nearly done when you’ve lured your entire household into the kitchen with the heavenly smell.

Afiyet olsun! U

cease to amaze the delighted diner and bring me fond childhood memories.

On a rainy November evening after an exhausting day on campus, I returned to my kitchen with an aching longing for warm baguettes.

I whisked a bowl of flour, yeast and water, divided the dough into big cocoon-shaped loaves and put the rising dough into the oven.

As the sweet smell of baking bread flowed through the house, I sliced ham, spread butter and canned pâté, then added some cilantro and pickles.

Outside, the rain tapped softly, but little did I feel cold.

RECIPE

Makes 6 servings.

• 2 loaves of baguette (either store bought or homemade is fine!)

• 6 tablespoons of pâté (can be replaced with butter)

• The wonder of bánh mì is that you can tailor the fillings to your liking! Classics include ham, fried eggs and grilled meat. My favourite is ham with pork floss — you can add around 5–6 slices per serving

• 2 cups of sliced pickled carrots or white daikon (optional, can be found in Asian grocery stores — pick the ones with no chili powder)

• A handful of cilantro leaves and green onion slices

• Soy sauce

• Sliced red chilis or Sriracha (to taste)

Cut the baguette in half, then vertically split each half into two, each measuring about 20 cm in length.

Spread the pâté evenly inside each half and add the filling. Garnish with cilantro, green onion, pickled carrots and daikon. Add the other half on top — just like a sub!

Drizzle the filling of the bánh mì with soy sauce and Sriracha, and then put your bánh mì into a toaster oven for three minutes for a warm, crispy texture. Enjoy! U

Simit is the quintessential ring-shaped pastry.

EMILIJA HARRISON /THE UBYSSEY

The childhood bánh mì was no longer there, but my longing for it was always present.

AYLA CILLIERS / THE UBYSSEY

Ask Iman:

What should I do when my best isn’t good enough?

Iman Janmohamed Coordinating Editor

Dear

Iman,

I’m lucky to have made many friends and acquaintances at UBC that are really amazing! They’re smart and talented with a penchant for becoming involved in a lot of great work. The problem is that they seem to be doing so many things, while I’m just getting by. I know that I’m also smart and talented in my own ways, but how do I manage everyone seemingly achieving more than me?

— Besties, my best isn’t much

Well, you’re right! You are smart and talented in your own ways but it’s easy to forget that when you compare yourself to the people around you.

I know it’s hard not to compare yourself to others, especially when they’re your friends. You became friends with these people because you thought they

were super cool and smart and talented, so it’s natural to want in on some of those attributes. But here is something important to keep in mind: appearances can be deceiving.

It can look like your friends — even your best friends — are doing all these cool things while maintaining the healthiest relationships ever, getting 100 per cent in every class and shredding it at the gym every other day. But sometimes, you only see what others want you to. Behind closed doors, your friends could be feeling the exact same way as you do. I mean, that’s what this entire advice column is built off of: the fact that each and every one of us, as university students, share some kind of universal experiences and live by a universal truth, which is that everyone feels the same way you do.

It’s like when you’re in your grade 9 math class. Stay with me. You have a question about what the fuck a polynomial is, but you’re too afraid to ask because your classmates are your best

HEARTSTOPPER SEASON 3 WHEN? //

friend, that girl who you want to like you, the most hockey guy hockey guy in the world and the president of the mathletes ( Mean Girls reference). You feel embarrassed. You don’t want to seem dumb by asking a question, but really, you don’t want to be vulnerable around people you want to respect you. So you say nothing. You end up failing your test. And so do a couple others in the class because, get this, they also had the same question. And they also were too afraid to ask.

What I’m trying to say is that you can talk to your friends about this! Ask them for tips about how they structure their days or find time to tag along to a study or workout sesh, if you have the capacity. These people are your friends, and friends are there to help.

Let’s say that you are doing your best and you do not have the capacity to do more. That’s okay. It can seem like others are doing more or doing better than you based off of assumptions of others and expectations we have for

‘I’m bi, actually.’

Elodie Bailey Vaudandaine is a third-year sociology student.

“I’m bi actually.”

Simple yet telling, Heartstopper’s Nick Nelson’s season 2 catchphrase perfectly sums up my experience being out as bisexual. Although it is a label I don’t fully identify with anymore, I still resonate with the constant feelings of exclusion, invisibility and invalidation bi people experience at the hands of both straight people and the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.

For many, identifying as bisexual is a bit like being the middle child of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community. A group of researchers used the term “identity invalidation” in their 2019 article published in the Journal of Bisexuality to describe this common experience.

As opposed to discrimination, which tends to reinforce ties among members of a perceived group as it has in the case of lesbian and gay communities, identity invalidation leads to uncertainty and lack of a sense of belonging. The concept of identity invalidation was created to describe the experience of multiracial people, but more broadly can be described as typical among people who hold identities that don’t fit into a binary, including bisexuals.

In a 2019 survey, respondents were asked to describe instances when others have invalidated their bi+ identities. These included others not accepting bisexuality, accusations of being confused and even accusations of faking bisexuality for attention.

My experience as a bisexual has been living in constant fear of not being perceived “bi enough.”

Growing up, I didn’t feel legiti-

ourselves. But if you are trying your hardest — that’s something to be proud of. That doesn’t mean that needing a break is bad (it’s the opposite), but that if your best seems to be “worse” (whatever that means) than someone else’s best, who cares!

You are doing your best, and

mate telling people I was bisexual seeing as I had never dated a girl — or anyone for that matter. With heterosexuality being considered the default, of course I didn’t feel required to prove my attraction to boys. However, I felt great pressure to find proof beyond a reasonable doubt that I was attracted to girls before I was allowed to label myself as bi.

The pressure I felt led me to seek out experiences with girls, even if I wasn’t genuinely interested in the people. I searched for any evidence to make my case to anyone who might interrogate me on my self-proclaimed bisexuality.

My first experience dating a girl was a turning point. I finally felt free to be loud and proud about who I was. My relationship was incredibly validating, living proof against those I felt would question my sexuality. Finally, I had a real tangible experience and could finally be secure in my bisexuality… oh, how naive I was!

Being openly in a relationship with a girl now led others to question whether I was even into guys at all. I became the target of “U-Haul” jokes and remarks about my haircut being telling of my sexuality. In the aftermath of that relationship, I had started to date a man to which my friend reacted, “I thought you were a lesbian now.”

“Wait... did you just say HE?” was my Queer friend’s reaction while I spoke about my high school ex. I had finally felt accepted as a part of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, but this acceptance came at the cost of invisibilizing the experiences I had with people of the opposite gender.

In a plot twist, I finally reached the point in my journey where I am not afraid to affirm my attraction toward women. However, I now feel scared to bring up my experiences with men, or at least I feel pressured to invalidate them for

fear of being perceived as lesser in the eyes of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, especially as someone who is deeply vocal about Queer activism. But what accounts for the constant invalidation I and many other bisexuals experience within the 2SLGBTQIA+ community?

In a 1994 interview for Radical Philosophy, Queer theorist Judith Butler said our sexual identities are defined as much by what they exclude as what they include. When someone decides to describe themselves as heterosexual, lesbian or gay, they simultaneously make a whole set of sexual possibilities unintelligible within the confines of their identity.

Bisexuals, Butler said, are unique in that they are not defined by such a gender-based exclusion. But, in a world where exclusion has become the basis of these political communities, bisexuals are reduced to being perceived as diluted lesbians and gays or simply on a path toward becoming ‘fully gay.’ Butler’s showed how bisexuality poses a radical challenge to the constraints imposed by our rigid notion of sexual orientation. It does not come as a surprise then, that bisexuals are consistently invalidated and invisibilized by both heterosexuals and the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.

However, bisexuals are not the only ones to face the constraints of the binary. Butler believed that our rigid way of thinking about sexual identity comes with an inherent anxiety we all deal with.

I have a lot of friends for whom the label they most strongly identify with does not always capture the nuances of their sexual attraction. These cases show how our rigid model of sexual orientation, leaving little room for fluidity, fails ato allow a lot of people to authentically describe themselves. Bisexuality is not the only identity that is difficult to grasp through

that’s all that matters. You’re doing great. Keep it up! U

Wanttogetadvicefromastudent journalist?Eww.Sendyour questions,queriesorproblems to advice@ubyssey.ca, or submit anonymouslyat ubyssey.ca/pages/advice !

our modern concept of sexual orientation. Bisexuality serves as an uncomfortable reminder to heterosexuals and Queer people that their attractions do not imply their sexuality cannot be fluid and potentially subvert itself. This could explain why bisexuals face so much animosity from the others in the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.

The point here is that simply improving public opinion of bisexuals might not be the answer to reducing biphobia. It is a question of ontology: how we think up the categories we use to classify ourselves and how these classifications can be exclusionary to those who live on the margins of them.

For me, the solution has been to reject labels altogether. I am unapologetically Queer in all my fluidity and suspicious toward identity as a normalizing force.

To be Queer is to be united, but I still see spite toward bi, pan and fluid identifying people from the rest of the community.

As a chronically online person, I am bombarded with videos of Queer people bashing others with experiences that differ theirs. Instead of infighting, shouldn’t we instead focus on the attacks on 2SLGBTQIA+ people that affect us all — as the BC conservative leader’s shocking comparison of sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) programming to residential schools or attempts in Saskatchewan and New Brunswick to regulate preferred pronouns in public schools? In this time of relentless attacks on our community, we need unity over division more than ever. U

Thisisanopinionarticle.Itreflects theauthor’sviewsanddoesnot reflecttheviewsofThe Ubyssey as awhole.Contributetotheconversationbyvisitingubyssey.ca/pages/ submit-an-opinion.

Trying your hardest is something to be proud of. MAHIN E ALAM / THE UBYSSEY

“I didn’t feel legitimate telling people I was bisexual as I had never dated a girl – or anyone for that ma er,” writes Vaudandaine.

MARIA RADIVOJEVIC / THE UBYSSEY

Elodie Bailey Vaudandaine Contributor

PRESS THE ISSUE

THE UBYSSEY’S STUDENT ACTION SUPPLEMENT

EDITORS IMAN JANMOHAMED & FIONA SJAUS CREATIVE TEAM EMILIJA HARRISON, IMAN JANMOHAMED & FIONA SJAUS

SOMEONE WILL PICK UP THIS ISSUE AND SEE

it’s rich with headlines, anecdotes, analyses and purpose.

Someone else will stroll past artwork and wonder what it means to spill your heart out onto a canvas when some stronger forces may not allow a message to be voiced. Another person will walk by a protest and wonder what all the fuss is about.

This will all happen on university campuses because it’s the rare space where these acts coexist.

This issue was born on May 15, after a hectic workday. Five Ubyssey editors gathered in our office after being scattered across campus — some covered a vigil in solidarity with Palestine outside a Vancouver Senate meeting and a tumultuous hours-long sit-in at Koerner Library, while others ran to-and-from the office to find press passes, cameras, notebooks, recording devices, chargers, batteries, food and water for reporters unable to leave their posts in fear they would miss important moments.

At 10 p.m., the five of us, covered in the office’s blankets, sat on chairs or sprawled across the desks — first in tired silence, then in reflection. That day, we saw similarities in the way student protesters

and student journalists were treated by people in positions of authority. It got us thinking: what happens when student journalists and protesters alike are unable to do their jobs — report and demonstrate — amid increasing barriers?

As student journalists, we have a duty to hold power to account. We are often alongside protesters, covering demonstrations and getting the same arrest warnings. Reporting and protesting hold common ground in finding value in amplifying voices. Anyone can share their voice, be a voice, initiate change — maybe taking action is being human.

In this issue, we explore what it means to have been a student on UBC’s campus in recent months with an ever-evolving protest and news landscape — from stories about police impacts on student movements, how federal laws impact community access to news and what role art plays in campus activism.

Despite the setbacks, pushback and backlash, student journalism is here because of people like you. Thank you. U — IMAN JANMOHAMED & FIONA SJAUS

eryone seemed so disconnected from each other?

Fortunately, I was a stubborn kid who would stop at nothing to reach my goals, so I decided to start a newspaper myself.

SCHOOL STUDENT NEWSPAPERS

WORDS BY ELENA MASSING

COLLAGE BY EMILIJA HARRISON LAYOUT BY IMAN JAMOHAMED

MY HIGH SCHOOL HAD OVER 2,000 students.

It was the only one in the city — there’s something deeply horrific about herding every teenager in the area into one building. Each person knew everyone and no one. While we were familiar with most faces and names, we weren’t great at maintaining any semblance of school spirit. I talked to the IB kids and music kids, had the odd friend or two that preferred the sports teams — but everyone had their own clubs and social circles and never really knew what was going on outside of them.

I started getting interested in journalism in grade 10. I researched high school newspapers in BC and beyond and slowly started racking up a list of personal favourites. As I read about what other kids my age had to say on politics, sports and the arts, I realized I was actually interested in all of these areas I had otherwise disregarded — I just needed to hear perspectives outside of my own to realize how special these communities were.

I was disappointed to find out that my high school had nothing of the sort. Was this why ev-

I built a space for students to share the things that mattered to them, and to expose their projects to new audiences. I wanted our school to have a hub for information — a place where we all could come together to better understand the people we saw every day and knew nothing about.

It took a few months to get the project off the ground. I needed to find a sponsor teacher who could invest an insane amount of time and effort into my plan (and could also put up with my late night emails and constant hounding whenever I came up with new ideas). I worked with a couple different teachers over the years that followed, all of whom were relentlessly willing to believe in me.

But what kept us from actually flourishing was our school’s administration. They loved the idea of having a newspaper, but weren’t always willing to do what was needed to help it run smoothly and become an initiative that could benefit students.

We were expected to run all content by them before it was published. But each time, they took nearly months to upload it to our school’s website — and never without constant pushes from myself and our teacher sponsor. It was impossible to get content out, and by the time anything was actually published, it had become outdated and was impossible to find on the website.

There were also no changes in how my newspaper was treated going forward. We offered to build a website where we could publish everything ourselves to lighten our admin team’s load, but they insisted that we still publish our content solely on the school website. After that final meeting, they finally made us our own page on the site instead of just dropping our issues in the random news feed, but they stopped updating that page before my senior year had even ended.

We went back to putting our issues on Google Drive and spreading them around social media — but this was only sustainable for about one more year.

Early on in the paper’s conception, I tried to publish a piece on the inaccessibility of a program run by our school. I was informed that I would not be allowed to publish the piece and never got an explanation for why I couldn’t.

I tried over and over again to set up meetings with the administration to work through their concerns and eventually all I got was a brief phone call with no useful feedback.

Even if my work was flawed — and, given that I was a high school student who still knew nothing about investigative journalism and received no guidance, I’m sure it was — I knew I still deserved an explanation.

I came to school to learn, and what was I asking for if not to be taught how to do better?

I found the Student Press Freedom Act (SPFA) campaign completely by chance on Insta gram almost a year later. I was amazed that people my age were out there advocating for press freedom. I connected with the students behind the campaign and we posted about the incident I had faced — we then saw the post promptly get taken down, and I was asked to speak with our school’s administration and a representative from the district.

Since I graduated, the newspaper seems to have died down. It became impossible for a few high school students to keep pushing for something that was meant to benefit an entire school, without support.

Throughout my three years running the project, I fumbled through teaching myself how to be an editor. I messed up countless times and did things that I certainly wouldn’t even think about trying now. But I know I wouldn’t be where I am now without those years of experience under my belt — and I’d like to think that my work benefited others.

One of my closest friends, a fellow editor at The Ubyssey, was the driving force behind the SPFA campaign. The student that took over my role at my high school’s newspaper after I graduated is now involved in journalism at UBC, too. So many of the people I work with at The Ubyssey wish they had gotten involved in journalism earlier, but came from schools like mine that didn’t offer those opportunities.

High school journalism matters.

It’s just as essential at that point in time as it is in university. It encourages an early interest in staying informed, which means a better understanding of how we can improve as a society — and what is the motive behind education if not a desire to build a better world? U

I came to school to

I was overjoyed. Sure, I was being reprimand ed, but I was finally getting some sort of response — I just wished I didn’t have to go public with my story for it to happen.

The meeting that followed still offered no clarity on the situation. I never found out why my piece had never seen the light of day.

ALEX MIGDAL BRINGS NEWS TO SOCIAL MEDIA, ONE TIKTOK VIDEO AT A TIME

WORDS & PHOTOS BY IMAN JANMOHAMED

ALEX

MIGDAL’S FIRST time combining social media with journalism was in 2012 as the multimedia editor of TeGateway, the University of Alberta’s student paper.

“I managed our video production on YouTube and launched our frst Instagram account. I think it was in 2012, with a terrilter because that’s what we used at the time,” laughed Migdal in an April interview with TeUbyssey Migdal said that the 2010s brought “a lot of optimism” toward how journalism could be represented through social media.

“[Social media] suddenly opened up this really wide audience, and this was before we started to see the more sinister impacts,” said Migdal.

And now, looking back at his time at Te Gateway , Migdal said he can see he reported on “hints” of what he enjoys reporting on now.

“I was always fnding other avenues to push out that journalism, whether it be through video, tweets, Instagram. So, I started the intersection of journalism and social media [at TeGateway] especially when it was more nascent.”

Now, Migdal is the senior producer of social media and audience development at the CBC and an adjunct journalism professor at UBC.

MIGDAL,

WHO ATTENDed UBC for his master’s in journalism, said the social media and journalism landscapes have changed since he was a student.

“Even what we’re teaching now at the school, in terms of social media, was not something we were teaching when I was at the school,” said Migdal.

Migdal fell into social media by chance while working at the CBC. He said editors had to “fnd people in the shadows … especially if you were younger [people would ask], ‘Are you interested in doing this? Do

you want to give it a shot?’”

But Migdal said new journalists are now drawn to social media from the start of their careers — something he attributes to the success of vertical videos, like the ones you see on your feed.

“It is younger journalists now who are consuming that content and resonate with it and want to produce that type of content,” said Migdal. “If you have the skill set and the desire to do it … you can really pitch yourself at the news outlet that you work [for] and my suspicion would be any outlet would be happy to have you take the reins of that.”

At UBC, Migdal co-teaches JRNL 420: Decoding Social Media with Dr. Ori Tenenboim.

“I didn’t actually take the decoding social media course when I was at the j-school,” said Migdal. “But I will certainly say that I think there’s a greater awareness now, that social media is really embedded in the dayto-day gathering of the newsroom.”

While Tenenboim teaches the “academic, theoretical side of social media,” Migdal teaches the practical side of things, such as how to produce social video content for social media platforms, make corrections online when journalists get things wrong and share news on diferent platforms in the wake of Bill C-18, or the Online News Act

Bill C-18 requires social platforms like Google, Facebook and Instagram (under Meta) to pay Canadian newsrooms when their journalism is displayed on their sites. In response to this, Google and Meta announced they would no longer share Canadian news links in June 2023.

DESPITE THE HURDLE

Meta’s news ban has brought to journalists, Migdal said the block has invited an opportunity for innovation.

“I do miss producing news for Instagram because it is a really visual, accessible platform,” said Migdal. “But I also think it’s been a really exciting opportunity … so I’ve pivoted my book entirely to TikTok into

vertical video, and there’s so much potential there.”

Migdal said more goes on behind the scenes of a good vertical video than most people might think — “the more seamless … and efortless it looks, usually the more ... production that has gone behind it.”

Migdal said this pivot can also allow journalists to reach new audiences. For example, TikTok’s audiences skew toward younger viewers and allows for a more global reach compared to other social media platforms.

“We can reach people outside of Canada, and any kind of journalist can build awareness of their news outlet … outside the confnes of just their city, their province, their country,” said Migdal.

Tough visual journalism is accessible for audiences, sometimes social media content can miss important context, something Migdal said is his “pet peeve.”

“I think it’s really easy to get away with that stuf on TikTok, and I think that’s the unfortunate part about it,” said Migdal

“I’m of the mindset that balance is really important, context is really important, being accurate is important.”

But despite the importance of getting things right, Migdal said news on social media does so much more than just inform the masses.

“Tere’s this part of journalism that I think is really important ... it’s holding power to account and it’s being service to the public,” said Migdal. “But … it’s lightening people’s days, lightening the collective mood … being able to do things that are fun, that are clever, that surprise people, that make their day. I think, to me, that’s one of the most gratifying parts of the job.”

“When you’re able to make somebody stop mid-scroll and [go] ‘Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. Cool to see from a journalism outlet.’ … I think that that’s the type of work that I started to do and want to keep doing.” U

‘YOU’RE

NOT GOING TO PLEASE EVERYONE’

HOW ACTIVISM, LAW ENFORCEMENT AND FREE PRESS CONVERGE ON CANADIAN UNIVERSITY CAMPUSES

WORDS & PHOTOS BY FIONA SJAUS | DESIGN BY EMILIJA HARRISON | LAYOUT BY IMAN JANMOHAMED

Tisarticlecontainsdescriptionsofpolice violence.

BRUCE ARTHUR DIDN’T GO into the 1997 APEC protest intending to cover it. TeUbyssey’s then-sports writer was planning to protest.

Arthur was near the front of the protest, staring directly into a line of police bikes. Te Ubyssey’s then-coordinating editor Joe Clark was demonstrating a couple rows behind him.

“Tere were thousands of people,” said J. Clark. “[Te police] cordon had expanded by then to include the Rose Garden, and that’s where the protesters met the police.”

according to Ubyssey coverage at the time.

Before about 50 anti-APEC protesters and a CBC cameraman could even blink, Stewart seared their eyes shut with streams of pepper spray. J. Clark and Arthur were next to each other in the line of fre.

“Sergeant Stewart showed up with a couple of other vans worth of cops, and literally walked up to the front of the line, started saying, ‘Okay, you now need to leave the road. I’m giving you this warning,’ and then started pepper spraying people,” said J. Clark.

“Tere was no warning — he was fnishing his sentence of warning when he began pepper spraying.”

the protested-against alike?

BUILDING TENSIONS

On November 25, 1997, more than 1,500 protestors gathered to protest the Asian-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) conference taking place on campus. Te conference was to discuss the member states’ “commitment to work together to meet the challenge of sustaining regional prosperity and stability” in order to achieve “ambitious” free open trade, according to APEC’s coverage of the summit. Meanwhile, students and community members were protesting the growth of neoliberalism and human rights violations from member states, particularly the Suharto government in Indonesia.

J. Clark and Arthur were shielded from the spray with their jackets as they ran of the road.

“I just ducked at the right time,” said Arthur. “But I could smell it in my jacket for a week.”

Other protesters were less fortunate. J. Clark recalled haphazardly taking on frst aid duties as people frantically tried to wash out sprayed protesters’ eyes.

Forty-nine arrests were made that day.

said the university would agree to not host government events without consultation from the university community.

J. Clark, Arthur and TeUbyssey’s then-photo editor Richard Lam all recall that what happened on November 25, 1997 was the peak of a progression of student-led rallies throughout the year against UBC’s choice to host APEC’s world leaders.

“Being on campus, they had weekly protests. I remember there was a whole thing of trying to play street hockey at … Martha Piper’s driveway every Friday,” said Lam. “Some days there was more media than protesters.”

In January 1997, at the Asia Pacifc Parliamentary Forum, press accreditation pass-bearing Jaggi Singh wanted to give an attending Indonesian delegate the fag of Indonesian-occupied East Timor as an act of protest. Te island had by then been the setting of numerous alleged human rights abuses against its peoples.

Despite this, in 1998, 20 protesters who were arrested and pepper sprayed on November 25 fled a civil suit against the RCMP and then-Prime Minister Jean Chrétien under evidence that the police “acted maliciously and that their treatment of protesters deserves not only compensation but also punitive damages,” according to Aymen Nader, one of the lawyers who represented the group in Ubyssey coverage from that time.

“Te theme of this is that there were these moments of arbitrary police violence that were unnecessary because the protesters were peaceful,” said J. Clark.

Protesters lined NW Marine Drive and many sat in the road, leaving APEC delegates with limited options but to leave campus amid the demonstration —

RCMP Sergeant Hugh Stewart promised he’d use whatever force necessary to clear the way,

What happened in November 1997 — and more broadly, the tension that swayed UBC that whole year — is a tumultuous time in UBC’s recent history. You’ll still fnd the period’s echoes in the archives of online databases — and its relevance is emerging in a new way, in the wake of the Palestinian solidarity encampment that once sat on UBC’s MacInnes Field.

Many universities across Canada started their own encampments alongside UBC. Some encampments, like at UBC and UBCO, lef on their own terms, while others, such as at the University of Calgary and University of Alberta, were dismantled by authorities.

University students have always been at the forefront of activism, whether through protest or media coverage. But how do universities and law enforcement balance students’ right to free speech and peaceful protest while prioritizing public safety for protesters and

According to a Ubyssey article J. Clark published, Singh didn’t get the chance since he was dragged out of the forum in a chokehold by out-of-uniform RCMP ofcer Captain J.W. Loran afer Singh had refused to leave the venue before he had proof of Loran’s authority. Singh later pursued legal action against him.

“A van pulled up and dragged [Singh] into [it] and closed and then took him,” J. Clark said. “It really was something that you expect to happen in a dictatorship and that’s why people were protesting — we had invited these dictators to campus to talk about liberalizing trade.”

And in September 1997, UBC students Mark Luchkow and Shiraz Dindar were taken into RCMP custody for a day afer painting “APEC Free Zone” around the Goddess of Democracy statue near what is now the Life Building. Tey were charged with mischief, though neither vandalized the statue itself nor obstructed public access to it.

Afer the police violence that unfolded on November 25, then-UBC President Martha Piper held a post-APEC forum with university students, resulting in a new policy which

Te Commission for Public Complaints Against the RCMP later concluded Stewart, the RCMP sergeant responsible for the pepper spraying — and who would later be granted the nickname Sergeant Pepper — did not give the demonstrators enough time to clear the road and that his use of pepper spray was “not a justifable or [an] appropriate level of force.”

“Te thing that really bothered me, probably more than anything, was how Jean Chrétien reacted to [the pepper spraying],” said Arthur. “Te famous line, ‘For me, [pepper,] I put [it] on my plate’ … that’s the epitome of really not caring about your citizens.”

STUDENT PROTESTS CONTINUE

Twenty-seven years afer the APEC protest, student protests still take place on campus.

People’s University UBC began a Palestinian solidarity encampment on April 29 and remained for over two months on MacInnes Field. Now, when you look toward the turf, it’s bare. Unlike in 1997, encampment protesters voluntarily lef the feld. But not too long ago, Palestinian fags swayed in the wind.

People’s University UBC demanded UBC divest from companies complicit in Palestinian human rights abuses, boycott Israeli universities and institutions and

publicly condemn what organizers and human rights experts are calling a genocide in Gaza. According to a report issued by a United Nations-appointed independent expert, there are “reasonable grounds” to believe Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.

A few days into the encampment, police presence on campus began to increase. RCMP ofcers frequently patrolled the perimeter of its gates, on some accounts overnight.

GG, a People’s University UBC spokesperson whose name has been withheld due to safety concerns, said the Police Liaison Team would drop by frequently “to engage in conversation.”

“What we do in all public order issues or protests is we take a measured approach,” said RCMP Staf Sergeant and Senior Media Relations Ofcer Kris Clark in an interview with TeUbyssey. “Our process is deliberate and methodical and that actually starts out with a Police Liaison Team trying to engage both sides to come to a resolution.”

rector of Campus Security Ali Mojdehi said that forming a relationship with the RCMP is “imperative.”

Campus Security declined TeUbyssey’s request for comment.

In a May 15 statement to TeUbyssey, University RCMP Corporal Christina Martin wrote that the RCMP attended the People’s University UBC Alumni Centre sitin at the request of Campus Security. Both the RCMP and Campus Security were also present during protesters’ disruption and building occupation during the BC NDP Forward conference held in the Nest on June 1, where one protester was arrested by University RCMP.

“UBC has a duty and obligation to protect its students and alumni and continues to completely fail to do so,” wrote People’s University UBC in an Instagram post following the conference.

“Instead, they use police to surveil and intimidate us.”

Both GG and Moon said that at the BC NDP conference, the RCMP shoved protesters without giving them time to comply with orders. Afer the disruption, GG saw some protesters were shaken up and had lost their trust in the university looking out for their wellbeing.

“[Te RCMP were] clearly there with intent to arrest,” said Moon. “Witnessing police violence frst hand just really reinforced my belief that the police are not there to help us or to keep us safe and in fact, do quite the opposite.”

According to K. Clark, the Police Liaison Team interacts with protesters and the administration to mediate and fnd common ground between both parties and a resolution. Contingent on both sides being open to communication with the Police Liaison Team, this preliminary interaction aims to “eliminate the need for any enforcement.”

But protesters were not looking to engage with police. As Moon, a UBC student and encampment protester whose name has also been withheld due to safety concerns, said the encampment’s community agreement asked members to not speak to law enforcement.

Te encampment’s decision to not interact with law enforcement was in part to acknowledge the colonial origins of the RCMP. “We obviously are in solidarity with Indigenous peoples, and [the encampment] is sort of an Indigenous resistance movement,” said Moon.

Te movement quickly adopted a decolonized stance to protesting that entailed a passive approach to dealing with the inherently colonial RCMP or Campus Security, a choice that Moon said was “important and strategic.”

But K. Clark said many protesters confuse peaceful for lawful.

“Even though the protests may be peaceful, they might not be lawful and both of those obviously have to be in efect for us to not take enforcement action,” he said.

K. Clark also said protests are considered to have gone beyond being peaceful gatherings when there is evidence of damage to property or a criminal ofense such as mischief.

Margot Young, a law professor at UBC, said organized civil disobedience through public demonstration is the agent that spurs attention and action.

“We’ve seen throughout the history of progressive struggles that civil disobedience can be a very important tactic in claiming space to make minority marginalized perspectives that are progressive heard and carry some weight,” said Young.

Campus Security, but also the RCMP’s Critical Response Unit (CRU-BC).

GG questioned why the CRU-BC was assigned to address “peaceful protest” afer the unit captured national attention and scrutiny for its heavily armed raids on the Wet’suwet’en-led blockades and its Fairy Creek operation on Vancouver Island. Te backlash prompted a rebranding and a federal investigation into alleged rights violations that is still ongoing.

Te CRU-BC is uniquely positioned to respond to these types of events,” said K. Clark. “Although there has been some rhetoric around this unit, this is the appropriate unit to respond to these events.”

K. Clark gave the analogy of a person barricaded in a house in the possession of weapons — he said it would make sense to send the designated emergency response team trained to mitigate the associated risk. “In this same situation, you want the best trained people to deal with that situation.”

For GG, choosing a law enforcement unit with a controversial record to oversee an inherently peaceful protest “created a true division between what the police were doing on campus and the wellbeing of the students,” adding these concerns revolved around allegations of weapons with “no evidence” and “no explanation” to support policing tactics used.

One of the encampment’s demands was to keep police of campus for the colonial values that the institution was built on and the colonialism still perpetuated in their practices.

to manage [the coverage] in a meaningful way, but also make sure that we were telling a story that was important for our student community,” Bullanof said.

Te Varsity’s News Editor Selia Sanchez explained that the team aimed for an onthe-ground approach to reporting, establishing connections with the encampment and the university to keep in the loop.

Te University of Toronto encampment started on May 2. On May 27, the Ontario Superior Court of Justice granted the Toronto Police Service authority to arrest protesters on account of trespassing afer an injunction between the encampment and University of Toronto ruled on the university’s side. But, according to Sanchez, police presence was “fairly minimal” while the encampment was ongoing.

“Sometimes there [were law enforcement] cars parked by,” Sanchez explained. “But it [was] never anyone super visible. Te only times where we have seen an escalation … in campus safety or police, is when there’s a counter-protest.”

During People’s University UBC’s own clash with counter-protesters, approximately a dozen ofcers from the RCMP and West Vancouver Police stood between the protesters in solidarity with Israel and the encampment.

Although police presence at the University of Toronto seemed minimal, the University of Alberta’s encampment had a diferent experience. It was short-lived, lasting from May 9 to the early hours of May 11. TeGateway’s, Editor-in-Chief Lily Polenchuk recalled being accompanied by her dad to the scene the frst night she went to check on it.

“A lot of students and people at the encampment, for example, are from marginalized backgrounds and have had really awful experiences with police,” she said.

Campus Security has previously been under fre. In June 2020, then-UBC President Santa Ono called for an external review of Campus Security afer a string of allegedly racially motivated incidents.

Te review called on Campus Security to revise its security-related policies, implement diversity training and increase the diversity of its force. Campus Security is not a law enforcement or investigative body. Rather, it is an agency of ofcers that are UBC employees, certifed and licensed for security work, according to the Campus Security website. In a written statement to TeUbyssey in 2022, former di-

“When we’re talking about taking over [a] feld or [a] short-term takeover at [an] administrative ofce — there may be a diferent calculation in play, but it can’t be the fact that inconvenience alone renders it illegitimate or illegal.”

Young said efective protesting is necessitated by inconvenience because it is disruption that lends notice to an urgent call to action.

“Te inconvenience that protest occasions is ofen the price of democracy and of having a community in which disparate, important perspectives are available for the public to consider and to contend with,” Young said. “Te fact that something is inconveniencing to the public is not necessarily a reason to shut it down.”

Policing public demonstrations is historically difcult, and K. Clark said the RCMP took a “hands-of approach” to the encampment.

“[We] only took enforcement action when it was no longer peaceful, lawful or safe,” said K. Clark.

But this hands-of approach was not solely overseen by the University RCMP or

“I think having the university be open to working with us to address some of those harms and acknowledge that they were wrong in allowing that to happen on their campus, I think would be helpful and healing,” said Moon when talking about the RCMP’s handling of the People’s University UBC protests.

Since the encampment was dismantled, GG said that People’s University UBC has been in negotiations with the university. “We’re engaging in peaceful protest, and yes, it is disruptive. Yes, it’s loud and noisy, but it’s within our Charter rights,” said GG.

STUDENTS KEEPING STUDENTS INFORMED

Most Canadian student press editorials transition into a new masthead at the beginning of May, which happened to be the period when most Canadian university encampments began sprouting across the country.

With that came the question of how student newsrooms would tackle covering such a complex and ever-evolving subject with limited resources during a transitional period.

“[Covering the encampment] was a learning curve for us, and I think it’s a learning curve for every student publication that’s going through similar circumstances,” said James Bullanof, deputy news editor for the University of Toronto’s student paper Te Varsity

“We just rolled with the punches and just did what we could

Afer Calgary police used fashbangs on protesters and counter-protesters to disperse the University of Calgary’s daylong encampment on account of a trespass order that resulted in fve people being arrested and three others being ticketed, there was no telling what was coming for the University of Alberta’s own camp.

“Who’s to say Edmonton Police won’t do the same?” said Polenchuk.

Te night before the encampment was taken down by the Edmonton Police Service at the request of the university, Te Gateway’s Opinion and News Editors Leah Hennig and Peris Jones were on the scene.

“[Tey] were frightened that they would get arrested or hurt as well if the police did come,” Polenchuk said — Te Gateway’s

editors hadn’t secured press badges yet.

“Everything was happening very quickly. So [Hennig and Jones] wrote ‘Student Press’ on pieces of paper and stuck them to their shirts.”

the guarantors of “accountability for police and efective, but accountable and constitutional state action.”

Sanchez recalled a separate incident when herself and another Varsity reporter were denied access to a press conference where events regarding the encampment were being discussed on account of the meeting being accessible to “select media only.”

Te Varsity eventually received a recording of the conference from the university, but not an explanation as to why Te Varsity was barred entry in place of other Canadian newsrooms.

“Freedom of expression is also freedom of the press,” said Young. “Te Charter’s protection of the press and journalistic or media speech is really closely connected to the functioning of Canadian democracy.”

“Tere’s no defnition of a journalist,” said K. Clark. “Even the Canadian Association of Journalists does not want to specifcally defne what a journalist is, so we don’t have accredited media per se.”

Lam said that when it comes to student journalists and the authorities, “everyone’s got a job to do.”

“Sometimes student journalism, I’ve seen, push[es] the envelope a little bit too much. Tat’s our job. But again, we’re also going to work in this professional world where we have to know where our boundaries are,” said Lam. “Tere’s a certain line that you can go up to, and then once you start crossing the lines and not being professional, then [authorities] don’t treat you professionally.”

“I go back to saying respect — it’s a two-way street. It’s not just given, but it’s also earned,” said Lam.

consistent coverage about this, and we want to do a good job.”

Tat’s the same as at UBC — Te Ubyssey was ofen the only outlet who had the connections, location and fexibility to rush to any place on campus where something was unfolding, and it turns out that this has been the case since the APEC protests.

Te lack of an ofcial defnition of “journalist” in Canada has been shrouded in ethical complexities and is evidence of its fuidity, which is clear in protest settings where both roles can be perceived as activism that law enforcement monitors. As such, journalists and protesters are subjected to the same fears.

But in some cases, a press badge does not make a diference when dealing with security. When People’s University UBC staged a sit-in at the Alumni Centre on May 13, both Campus Security and University RCMP denied TeUbyssey’s press-passbearing reporters’ repeated requests to enter the building without explanation as to why student press was barred entry. And, during the BC NDP conference, Ubyssey reporters were given warnings for arrest alongside protesters.

As Young continued, she said there is concern about the lack of media access to on-the-ground protest coverage.

“It’s clear that police are subject to the rights that the Charter provides to individuals and to members of the media,” Young said.

Limiting media access, said Young, to enclosed rallies without explanation hints to a short circuit in an issue that law enforcement should have planned to work around.

“We haven’t had much experience dealing with police themselves in our coverage,” Polenchuk said. “It was just always a recurring thought of, how do we actually keep ourselves safe without impacting our coverage, making sure that our coverage continues to be informative and transparent?”

Even back when APEC’s Economic Leaders Meeting loomed over campus, J. Clark recounted that TeUbyssey would scramble to the scene — press badges in hand — and fnd themselves pumping out breaking news stories to keep their community informed.

“It wasn’t just one day. It was one day for the national media,” said J. Clark. “But it wasn’t just one day for the student press.”

Young said student journalism “is critically important to a university community” as “the intimate doings [universities] are … not well covered by established outside media outlets.”

On April 1, 26 students gathered outside of the University of Toronto’s President Meric Gertler’s ofce for a sit-in.

“Tere was a Varsity reporter who was able to get in because she had gone in with the student protesters at the beginning,” Sanchez explained. “We had another person from the Varsity try to come and bring in food and blankets [for protesters], and they were also not allowed. So the student protesters inside had raised allegations of denying access to the press.”

Te Varsity’s experience covering the Simcoe Hall occupation echoes Te Ubyssey’s coverage of People’s University UBC’s sit-in at UBC’s own president’s ofce.

“We want to ensure that the media have the opportunity to observe and report on the actions of the police as well as the actions of the protesters,” K. Clark said. “It’s just that sometimes it’s difcult to provide full access, because you have to also understand that there’s a police operation underway.”

But it isn’t just now that student journalists are subject to diferent standards than other press. J. Clark said, during the APEC protests, he and then-News Editor Sarah Galashan frst heard about the expansion of the police cordon around the Museum of Anthropology from protesters camping around its borders. Tey rushed from the Ubyssey ofce as police began enlarging its borders without notice to include the area where protesters had set up their encampment.

Students write about complex topics and navigate protest and police spaces all while learning how to be journalists.

Te interplay between safety and accurate reporting undercuts protest coverage. And when law enforcement feels more like a threat than a sense of comfort, it can be difcult to return to the ofce with the confdence that what is being written serves those who need the facts most.

Afer being pepper sprayed at the APEC protest, Arthur returned to the ofce to write his frst opinion piece, a recount of the demonstration.

“It was just a really big, emotional day. I did what most student journalists do — you go back to the ofce,” Arthur said. “I wrote a back page piece about what I’d seen, and what I thought of it.”

Tat day, Arthur walked the line between protester and journalist.

“We want our students to be alive to the world around them,” Young said. “We want them to bring what they learn at the university to their judgments about larger issues in the world that happen of-campus, and the campus is a really important place for these kinds of contextually rich, sensitive, aware conversations to happen.”

And as student newsrooms, platforms for this knowledge exchange, connection, accountability, we’re not asking for much — just to be taken seriously.

“You’re not going to please everyone,” said Polenchuk. “Just knowing that there’s people that aren’t going to be happy with you … every reporter has to come to terms with [that].” U

During People’s University UBC’s May 15 occupation of Koerner Library, one Ubyssey reporter was able to get inside. UBC Campus Security did not allow additional press-passbearing student journalists to enter.

“[Press badges are] supposed to give you access,” said Young. She also said that media presence during police interference gives journalists the responsibility of being

J. Clark and Galashan were met with police dogs as they tried to report on the scene.

“We were yelling, ‘We’re the press, we’re the press,’” J. Clark said. Te pair feared they’d get arrested, though neither did.

“Parts of the campus were being turned into No-Go Zones, places where students were no longer allowed, that the press was no longer allowed,” said J. Clark.

For years, many police in jurisdictions across the country have grappled with the question of how to denote media — some have trumped the defnition completely while others have completely discredited the legitimacy of press passes.

“Journalists are journalists up until they are participating,” K. Clark said. “And as soon as the journalist is no longer objectively covering the protest and starts to participate in some way, they’re no longer essentially considered a journalist.”

Young said though journalists and protesters are important pillars of a functioning democracy, they are subject to diferent obstacles when carrying out their duties. While the protesters are subject to the implications of civil disobedience, journalists must struggle to hold their rightful space on the scene.

“You’re not actually, as a journalist, occupying physical space in the way that typically protests do,” Young said.

And student journalists are ofen the only journalists covering student issues, including protests.

“It is a historical moment, and at times, it feels like the weight of reporting and covering this is on our shoulders, because we’ve been here since day one,” said Sanchez on the University of Toronto’s encampment. “And we have a responsibility to our readers to provide accurate and

NOT JUST AESTHETICS. HOW UBC STUDENT ORGANIZERS USE CREATIVITY AS A

TOOL

FOR CHANGE

THE HATCH ART GALLERY

has been a campus staple since its opening in the ‘70s, but its focus on activism was somewhat recent — and happened more out of necessity than by choice.

Last fall, the gallery — which has been student-run since the early 2000s — was home to the Reveal/Reform exhibit which featured a replica of the West Bank Barrier, put together in partnership with UBC’s Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights.

In response to the piece, then-Hatch Director Isabel Sihan Chen said her team saw “a furry of very aggressive and confrontational feedback from Zionists and people who are not sympathetic to the Palestinian Liberation Movement.”

“At that point, we realized we can’t be neutral,” Chen said. “To be neutral is to be the grease in this giant machine that is pressing downwards. We weren’t going to do that. From that moment onwards, we said we’re going to do what we can to support these very urgent issues and organizing initiatives on campus.”

“I personally don’t think of it as activism … For me, it’s just doing what needs to be done.”

Since 2021, the Hatch has hosted events and exhibits like as part of the programming for ARTIVISM, a festival centred on the intersection between art and activism. Although several campus arts groups participated, it’s spearheaded by Exposure UBC, a student organization within the UBC arts and culture district that focuses on creating events that uplif marginalized artists.

Each year the festival follows a diferent theme. Last year, Exposure UBC President Jesse Medrano oversaw “Madness in the Masses,” an exploration of the mental turmoil that results from living in a world where costs of living are reaching unbearable peaks, climate catastrophe constantly looms overhead and accessing afordable and culturally-appropriate food is a primary concern.

Embracing collective resistance at ARTIVISM 2023.

Given that she’s studying gender, race, sexuality and social justice and visual arts, this work falls perfectly into Medrano’s realm of expertise. But the link between art and activism is larger than its connection to Medrano — the two topics naturally overlap, which makes for exciting, powerful pieces

and projects developing across UBC’s campus.

Statistics don’t authenti cally capture the individual sto collective struggles that lay within the masses the way art does, so a creative lens can help reframe social issues with those distinctions in mind.

physical space through their connections at the Hatch and other campus arts venues, so providing logistical support to artists by helping them access these resources is one of the group’s priorities.

With laws that restrict Canadians from viewing news content on Meta and Google’s platforms, integrating political discussion into art can help us work around these limitations to staying informed and curious. Even as the news landscape shifs and a highly digital generation risks becoming ignorant to current events, the conversation can still continue through mediums like poetry or visual art.

“Art is an integral component of how oppressed people can vocalize their struggles,” Medrano said. In order to fnd the answers, we have to understand the systemic issues at hand, so it’s crucial that people take the time to tell their own stories.

“I really learned, being in these spaces, that my activist work and my artwork do not have to be separate,” said Medrano.

“[ARTIVISM’s] goal, from the artists’ side, is to really unlearn the very neoliberal idea that art is for aesthetics, art is for capital, art is for entertainment — it can be so much more.”

Coming from an animation background, Medrano never imagined herself doing the kind of work she is putting her expertise toward now. She explained that sometimes you have to see your work presented in a diferent context to understand how social justice infuences your art, even if the subject matter may not be intentionally political upon creation.

When you make art, it’s inevitable that pieces of yourself will fnd their way into the things you create. Memories, values, lived experiences — the inspiration for art is also usually the foundation of people’s desire to participate in activism.

While sharing your story can be vulnerable, expression through art also provides room to distance yourself from your voice by directing eyes to your work, rather than having them on you.

And creativity isn’t merely a coping mechanism — it’s a way of dreaming about how we can change for the better.

an ode to that legacy.”

Although anyone can inspire change, Medrano said a university campus is a ftting place for this work to happen.

“I think specifcally why it is a student responsibility is because studying alone is such a privilege,” she said. “To be educated on a topic is such an immense privilege.”

But Medrano also pointed out that being connected to a school can have its pitfalls. Tough UBC makes space and implements resources into these kinds of intersectional student initiatives, artists must still abide by certain rules and limitations.

“UBC [is] still an institution,” said Medrano. “Tere are certain guidelines you have to obey when you’re curating an event or if you’re applying for grants … but [you’re able to] showcase and vocalize things that they might not necessarily want to actively be talking about.”

Chen noticed similar issues during her time at the Hatch — she said she experienced pushback with regards to her programming choices.

“Tere’s a lot of censorship … there’s been attempts to … change the display, or to cater to … diferent perspectives,” Chen said. “But what they really mean is to cater to those in power, so they don’t have to sufer the consequences.”

Overcoming institutional barriers like these is made possible through collaboration — by relying on the community in pockets where bureaucracy falls short.

Art and activism naturally lend themselves to collaboration, which is why both Chen and Medrano fnd themselves involved in many diferent organizations on campus. In each, people work together to achieve a common goal — the networks formed in these spaces ofen become essential to fnding opportunities that can expand your practice.

One of the main barriers for artists, es-

e purpose of the [Hatch] is to be an experimental platform for students with an interest in the arts to develop their own creative and curatorial practice and identity, whether that is personal or professional,” Chen said.

“It’s kind of like this playground, in a way, for students to have access to resources and physical space in order to do that,” she said.

Being involved in activism ofen requires a lot of background research if you don’t have lived experiences to draw from. In order to understand an issue, it’s important to know about the historical, geographical and social factors behind the systems of oppression that marginalized people live under today.

“I think activism can be so intimidating for a lot of people,” said Medrano, who recalled how she was initially hesitant to step into the coordinating roles she holds now. “People can be really scared to say [or] do the wrong things, or have a wrong point of view, because they’re scared of getting shamed.”

Tis barrier is one of the main factors that deters people from stepping into the world of organizing, but there are ways around it.

Attempting to understand institutionalized issues can seem hard to manage at frst, but creating and consuming art provides an opportunity to break down these oppressive systems into smaller parts by spotlighting individual stories.

“I think art is able to create that bridge of the individual versus the collective in a really profound way,” said Medrano.

“Activism comes from a place of love. Tese narratives aren’t coming from a place of hatred or wanting to continually divide,” she said.

“Te reason people get passionate about activism is because we want better conditions, not just for [ourselves], but others.” U — With fles from Khushi Anand

WORDS BY ELENA MASSING

PHOTOS BY FIONA SJAUS LAYOUT BY IMAN JANMOHAMED

ALFRED HERMIDA PIONEERED DIGITAL MEDIA SO WE CAN LEARN HOW TO DO JOURNALISM WITHOUT IT

THE FIRST THING I NOTICED

as I walked into Alfred Hermida’s ofce was the sof rhythm of music that played on his desktop and how the light poured into the room — warm and inviting.

I wasn’t expecting to get a complete tour of the Sing Tao building from Hermida, but we strolled through classrooms and examined the awards that lined the walls (I gawked at an Emmy in a case by the main ofce).

I saw the pride Hermida takes in the community he helped build at the School of Journalism, Writing and Media (JWAM). It doesn’t take much for him to get excited talking about journalism, especially at a time when the system as we know it is simultaneously crumbling and renewing e one thing we know is that things change,” said Hermida.

“What I see as a really positive development is a broadening of what might be considered journalism and forms of doing journalism that don’t necessarily look like an article … but still a community address an issue they’re facing and help them

“If that’s what it’s doing, then that’s Hermida is a journalism professor and, from June 2015 to December 2020, he served as the JWAM director. His career has always teetered between journalism and academia — but his two passions merge in his ambition to change how reporting works to better serve people.

“What are the communities that have been underserved? And how can we do something that’s di ferent to help those communities?”

THE DIGITAL RENAISSANCE

In 1996, Tony Blair’s UK Labour Party garnered a historic landslide victory, the largest in the party’s history and the most consequential poll results for the country since World War Two.

In the months leading up to the elections, newsrooms across the UK were heating up. And with the World Wide Web activating to the public just three years prior in 1993, a whole new yet foreign dimension to news broadcasting was just beginning: digitalization.

The BBC took advantage of the significance of the 1996 elections to streamline their website that was already in the works, opting to release a subpage that launched in time for voting.

After coming to London from being based in North Africa, reporting peace processes in the region, Hermida’s boss at the BBC approached him about working on the election site — she knew he loved the

Internet.

“They asked me if I had an email address — I had two, including a Hotmail one,” Hermida said. “And so on the basis of that, [my boss] said, ‘Do you want to go and work on this website for the elections?’ And I said, ‘Sure.’”

Hermida went on to help pioneer the website of one of the world’s largest broadcasting corporations — in a wing of the headquarters called The Spur, up on the seventh floor at the end of the hall, “as far away from the radio [and] TV newsrooms as you could get.”

“What that meant is we, as a team, had the freedom to try things out … to explore different ways of doing [journalism], different ways of thinking about it, while still bringing those BBC values.”

With the prospect of digital news came new expectations from the public. People didn’t have to anticipate the six o’clock headlines or the weekly paper — rather, news was always happening, and people were hungry to know. Suddenly, there was an element of instancy and an expectation that the information shared would be accurate in real time.

The deadline to report was not in 20 minutes or an hour anymore — it was now.

“One thing we realized working online is that when there was breaking news, a core of the audience expected us to be there to have a story,” said Hermida. “And if we didn’t have a story, they thought we were asleep on the job.”

‘IT’S HARD TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE MISSING IF YOU DON’T SEE IT’

When you open Instagram or Facebook, you usually won’t actively search up your media outlet of choice. But in Canada, if you do, you’ll be met with a message telling you that the profile’s content is not visible.

Bill C-18, or the Online News Act, was a tremendous blow to local newsrooms.

The act aimed for groups like Google and Meta who profited off news content being displayed on their sites to com pensate newsrooms. By doing so, a more financially sustainable market model of digital journal ism would emerge.

But in response, Meta blocked news on their sites to avoid paying outlets that depended on them to promote and share their news.

“What this has taught us is we can’t rely on these digital inter mediaries, because they can turn off the tap at any moment,” Hermida said.

WORDS

& PHOTOS BY FIONA SJAUS

know you exist, and you don’t have the marketing budget of a large media company,” said Hermida.

Having worked in local television and radio during his time at the BBC, Hermida understood the difficulty of competing for the public’s attention next to other media giants. That attention is not for free. There’s been a general trend towards discounting newsroom subscriptions across the country.

This year, Canada saw a four per cent increase in the number of people paying for their news, according to an article Hermida wrote for The Conversation Canada, which he co-founded with JWAM professor Dr. Mary Lynn Young. Hermida hypothesized that this increase was due to Bill C-18 prompting the public to be more active in their search for quality and reliable news, evidence that there still is a hunger for reporting.

“The goal of learning is to grow and discover. And much as the world changes around you, you change.”

— Dr. Alfred Hermida

But this trend is only visible across the world’s largest newsrooms. It seems that people are not willing to pay for local news, even if it’s the stories that concern them most.

And for some of us, this model of media consumption — accessing news through social media — is all we’ve ever known.

“Over the last 10 years, newsrooms have largely been told social media is the way to reach newer and younger audiences. That’s where they live,” said Hermida.

Almost any struggle experienced by local media as a result of the act has been amplified in student newsrooms simply because their audiences belong to the digital generation. And they’re busy — students don’t have time to change their habits, especially when it comes to something as subconscious as the reasons behind checking your phone.

Suddenly, the social media accounts of many news publications — including smaller community and student newspapers — were inaccessible in Canada, so newsrooms had to overhaul their outreach strategy at Meta’s mercy.

“It’s hard, because if you’re a small local outlet, the challenge you face is people don’t

“We’ve actually created a new media ecosystem where most people, especially under 35s, are coming sideways to the news,” said Hermida.

2024’s Digital News Report from the Reuter’s Institute and University of Oxford found that 72 per cent of Canadians access news online rather than directly through newspapers or broadcasting.

“In effect, what the Online News Act did is close those side doors, which is bad, both for the news outlets, but devastating for the audience … It’s hard to know what you’re missing if you don’t see it.”

Getting an entire cohort to develop an appetite for the print newspapers that fade into the woodworks of your local supermarket is futile — how do you change the habits of getting informed across a generation that has been exposed to current events through the passive convenience of doom-scrolling?

The answer is in the way we do journalism, and it starts with inspiring those who see their futures in the field.

‘AS

A JOURNALIST, YOU’RE NOT DOING IT FOR YOURSELF’

When Hermida teaches visual journalism at UBC, he wants students to forgive themselves.

“You’re doing what you can in the time you have, with the resources you have, with the people that have agreed to talk to you,” Hermida said.

“The job is never finished, so your learning is never finished. That’s one of the beauties of journalism.”

Hermida’s teaching philosophy is about spurring the right questions during discussion, seeing what existing research can offer and understanding what needs to be adjusted in your practice — and why.

“It’s always about questioning yourself. Why am I doing this? Who am I doing this for?” Hermida said. “If the swer is, ‘I’m doing it for myself,’ then you need to ask yourself the question again, because as a journalist, you’re not doing it for yourself. You’re doing it for your community.”

Under these same principles, Hermida co-founded The Conversation Canada in 2017.

“[Young] and I saw it as an

intervention in the media landscape at a time when news was facing cutbacks, where there was a loss of specialist correspondence,” said Hermida. “How can we help to bring more expert-based, informed news analysis and commentary into Canadian media?”

By understanding what an issue means, you can begin to truly understand what it is. When you see what current events mean, the complexities of them suddenly become more nuanced, but easier to consider and make your own.

According to Hermida, it’s clear that the 150-some-year-old mass media model of production and consumption is failing.

Hermida is finding a solution through a micro-media approach that emphasizes the exploration of systemic and intersectional topics. It proposes a more engaging, thoughtful and active way to learn about our world and the issues that matter to us. When we see ourselves in the things that journalism covers, we learn about identity and how we all co-exist as a way of learning about what is happening in the world and appreciating its implications.

“If it’s 500 people, but you’ve made their life better, maybe that’s better than reaching 50,000 who had a cursory interest in what you wrote and forgot about it the second they clicked away.”

Hermida’s philosophy helps build

trust between audiences and their media systems in a climate where the public is becoming more and more hesitant to trust the news under the guise of the misinformation and AI-generated reports that are sprinkled into our everyday life.

Journalism is a truly selfless act when writers operate on trust — trust in their audiences to receive their work the way it’s intended to, and trust in themselves to appreciate the trial as much as the error in everything they do.

Tose were some of the pieces of advice Hermida ofered as he drew on his own experiences and how aspiring journalists can best navigate the evolving media landscape.

“The goal of learning is to grow and discover. And much as the world changes around you, you change.” U

“What are the communities that have been underserved? And how can we do something that’s di ferent to help those communities?”

— Dr. Alfred Hermida

NO NEWS FOR YOU.

BY FIONA SJAUS

BZZZZZ. You open your phone to an avalanche of texts from your friends about some breaking news. Your f ngertips anticipatingly brush against the cold, smooth glass of your phone screen. You move over to Instagram to see what all the buzz is about. Te only problem? You can’t see the news.

In June 2023, the federal government passed Bill C-18, or the Online News Act, which requires dominant digital news intermediaries like Google and Meta to pay Canadian newsrooms for the use of their journalism.

T is ensures newsrooms can secure fair compensation when their content is made available by digital news intermediaries and generate economic gain — it’s a win-win situation. Platforms that already proft of the news posted by publications can still get a piece of that pie, while supporting local journalism. Cool, right?

Wrong — in response to this new bargaining structure, Google and Meta announced it would no longer share Canadian news on its platforms, including Facebook, Instagram and T reads. So, if you’ve ever wondered why you can’t see (or link) your favourite newspaper’s content on Instagram anymore, it’s because of Bill C-18.

Accessing news online, including on social media, is the most common way of accessing news in Canada, according to a study by Reuters Institute and the University of Oxford. Te study found that in 2022, 77 per cent of Canadians accessed news online and 55 per cent accessed news through social media. A fer the passing of Bill C-18, these numbers dropped to 69 per cent and 45 per cent respectively, showing that less people are accessing news through these digital intermediaries.

It isn’t just social media news consumption that has changed since the passage of C-18 — local and student publications are facing barriers to connecting with their audiences and ofentimes are being lef out of discussions around the legislation that will impact them the most.

During a time when Canadians, specifically students, are increasingly accessing news via social media, how do local publications who can no longer share content through these platforms keep in touch with the communities they serve?

THE LITTLE GUYS

Te key aim of the Online News Act was to fairly compensate journalists for their online work. Te hope was that the act would subsidize the journalism industry, and the Parliamentary Budget O fce estimated it would bring $300 million to Canadian media annually.

In a September 2023 statement, Minister of Canadian Heritage Pascale St-Onge said “the Online News Act requires these dominant [tech] platforms to bargain fairly with news businesses—both big and small.”

“Tech giants can and must contribute their fair share—nothing more. Canadians expect a vibrant news landscape where we

can get the facts when we need them,” wrote St-Onge.

According to a Te Conversation Canada article by UBC journalism professors Dr. Alfred Hermida and Dr. Mary Lynn Young, the act’s funding model might not actually help smaller newsrooms.

“ Tere would be winners and losers under the act’s funding model, with larger conventional journalism organizations — mostly the big broadcasters, including the CBC — being the big winners. Small digital-born organizations would beneft the least,” wrote Hermida and Young.

Deals made from Bill C-18 favour large media corporations, leaving out the little guy — local and community publications, including student newsrooms like those at UBC.

In a July interview with Te Ubyssey, Hermida said local newsrooms are trying to reconnect with their audiences by creating unique and “more direct … spaces for readers” such as newsletters in the wake of the Online News Act

“It’s hard because if you’re a small local outlet, the challenge you face is people don’t know you exist, and you don’t have the marketing budget of a large media company so how do you then tell people you exist?” said Hermida. “You can’t do it through social media.”

Hermida said “over the last 10 years, newsrooms have largely been told social media is the way to reach newer and younger audiences — that’s where they live.”

According to a 2023 study from the Pew Research Centre, 69 per cent of US adults aged 18–29 access news from social media “at least sometimes,” compared to 55 per cent of adults aged 30–49, 40 per cent 50–64 and 34 per cent 65+. Additionally, 30 per cent of US adults 18–29 said they actually prefer to access news through social media.

A fer losing access to Instagram and Facebook, according to Hermida, newsrooms had “to reorient … and say, ‘What this has taught us is we can’t rely on these digital intermediaries because they can turn of the tap at any moment.’”

As an editor at Te Ubyssey, my team and I have witnessed our articles get less engagement a fer being cut of from Meta’s platforms. Students live online, and ofentimes that’s how we f nd stories, connect with sources and distribute information to our community. So we’ve had to pivot our social media outreach from Instagram and Facebook to other platforms such as TikTok and Reddit to keep our paper running.

Te Instagram account for UBC’s campus and community radio station CiTR 101.9 FM and its arts and culture magazine Discorder were blocked for Canadians because of the Meta ban, but Programming Manager Ciara Reid said the group still has a “marginal Instagram presence.” T is is because the station adapted: It has a record label, Fanta

Records, and CiTR has started to promote its work on the label’s social media pages.

Reid said CiTR is “doing what we can to still be present on the online sphere while also not f agging ourselves to be hidden again through that account.”

Alex Migdal, a UBC journalism professor and CBC’s senior producer of social media and audience development, said though the Meta ban could put up barriers for journalists, it breeds innovation. By using social media platforms that weren’t originally aimed at distributing news — like what Instagram used to be — newsrooms can reach audiences they wouldn’t have otherwise, expanding their scope to include a younger or more global audience.

Te Canadian TikTok news audience is small, accounting for only eight per cent of news consumption in Canada according to the Reuters Institute and the University of Oxford study.

But TikTok seems to be growing — a study from the Pew Research Centre said TikTok saw the largest growth among people who regularly get their news from social media — increasing from 22 per cent in 2020 to 43 per cent in 2023, with 32 per cent of US adults aged 18–29 regularly getting news from TikTok, compared to 15 per cent of 30–49 year olds.

“We can reach people outside of Canada and any kind of journalist can build awareness of their news outlet … outside the con f nes of just their city, their province, their country,” said Migdal.

Reid said the way people learn about campus and community media is through social media. Tey compared social media to a “thread of connection.” Let’s say CiTR plays an artist’s music. T is artist can post about their experiences with the station, which connects CiTR to that person’s audience.

“ Te thread of connection through social media … is a really big part of how we maintain our presence and our visibility.”

AMPLIFYING VARIED VOICES

Student newsrooms being hidden by the Meta ban and C-18 doesn’t just pose concerns for the publications themselves — it hides news and information that centre the voices mainstream outlets often neglect. Despite having smaller budgets, resources and reach, it’s local newsrooms and radio stations that uplift underrepresented communities.

“We have such a unique presence in our media landscape as an organization that can say things that other people or other organizations might not have the liberty to say — to platform voices that just don’t get a platform elsewhere,” said Reid.

“You look at larger publications — they’re not going to pick up the same stories that we’re picking up. They’re not going to talk about the same things. [CiTR has a] mandate to

be a platform for underrepresented voices … that is the key to what’s so important about what we do.”

According to research from the New York State Bar Association (NYSBA), “strong local journalism builds social cohesion, encourages political participation, and improves the efficiency and decision-making of local and state government.” And on a student scale, this can mean creating a campus community, encouraging students to vote in student government elections and putting pressure on the AMS and UBC to make changes that best suit student needs.

“Newspapers [play] a vital role in both educating us and building community,” wrote the NYSBA — this is something that Reid also believes. They said support for community and student publications fosters community.

“A lot of campus and community stations across the country are news platforms for their communities, especially in more rural areas and smaller communities,” said Reid.

I’ve witnessed the same at The Ubyssey — with over a hundred contributors annually, you’re bound to make at least a friend or two while reporting.

Reid said that organizations like CiTR have a low barrier to contribute. Like CiTR and Discorder, The Ubyssey doesn’t require any experience to get involved, which allows UBC students to get informal journalism experience on a campus that didn’t have an undergraduate journalism program until last year.

“Community radio [is] such a learning environment that allows people to enter into these spaces … and recognize that, not only does your voice have meaning and power, but people really want to hear what you have to say,” said Reid.

LOBBYING FOR RECOGNITION

Groups such as the National Campus and Community Radio Association (NCRA) and Canadian University Press (CUP) are lobbying for the inclusion of student media in decisions made regarding the Online News Act.

Reid said CiTR is lobbying MPs alongside the NCRA. For Reid, this includes reaching out to members of parliament and connecting with other campus and community radio stations across the country to not only “get ourselves back onto these platforms, but also to be included in … the funding opportunities that

will come out of this bill.”

Reid, however, said their experience lobbying hasn’t been all positive.

“I’ve largely been ignored in contacting politicians in our area,” said Reid. They recounted a time they tried to arrange a call with an MP, but were contacted after working hours and then were ignored when they tried to follow up.

“I think [lobbying efforts are] not being taken as seriously in some locales … as we would like it to be,” said Reid. “Obviously these members of parliament are very busy — they have a lot going on, but it’s hard to see a lack of interest and a lack of care to an extent there.”

For example, when it comes to CiTR, Reid said the group shouldn’t have been hit by the Meta news ban at all, since it’s “quite inaccurate to consider CiTR a news organization.”

“CiTR really isn’t that in a lot of ways — we’re largely an arts and culture organization … We do occasionally provide some news content, but it’s very limited.”

Things aren’t too different on the student print side of things, either.

In a July 2023 statement, CUP President Andrew Mrozowski said the organization, which represents Canadian student papers, is “extremely concerned by Meta and Google’s decision to censor media in a time when we need it most.”

“We have heard many apprehensions from our membership about what this means for student-journalism,” wrote Mrozowski.

Two months earlier, in May 2023, CUP’s Vice President Amy St. Amand spoke to the Senate Steering Committee on Transport and Communications to advocate for student publications that would eventually be impacted by C-18.

“We are the Canadian University Press,” said St. Amand over Zoom to a room of senators, politicians and leaders of other media groups in Ottawa. “We forgive you if you haven’t heard of us before, but respectfully, that’s part of the problem.”

St. Amand said CUP members “have been making news for decades,” and have been “integral to Canada’s journalism.” CUP was not consulted on Bill C-18.

“Our members have been covering news like professionals, despite most of them being volunteers. And don’t forget, they’re still students … but despite all of that, they are still com-

mitted to educating their peers,” said St. Amand. “We know how crucial journalism is to our communities, if only everyone else did too.”

St. Amand said since CUP wasn’t included in converations about C-18, it has “no confidence” it will see the benefits of it.

“No single piece of legislation guarantees a bright future for journalism, including C-18,” said St. Amand. “But whatever the solution may be … we demand a seat at the table.”

And in July, when the Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) opened a call for comment on Google’s potential exemption to Bill C-18, Mrozowski wrote in a statement that the current funding allocation as administered by Google leaves out student publications as it does not “account for the unique structure and contributions of student-run publications.”

Student newspapers across Canada have varying structures, not to mention other non-news publications that are impacted by this bill, like CiTR and other student arts and culture publications.

“Many of our member organizations do not have the requisite number of full-time journalists, do not print physical editions, or are owned by student unions,” wrote Mrozowski. “These criteria unfairly marginalize student-journalists and undermine the spirit of Bill C-18.”

Reid said including most campus and community stations in the ban is a “misguided approach on the part of Meta.”

“Obviously none of [these publications] should have been hidden,” said Reid. “It didn’t really look at actually what these organizations are doing and what kind of content they’re providing.”

Though Reid is hopeful the act will result in better funding for all Canadian media organizations, they said the impact has been “quite damaging to small organizations in [the media] sector.”

“I’m a little disappointed that it ended up this way.”

WHAT NOW?

Bzzzzz.

You swipe out of your social media app, the glow of your phone screen illuminating your face, and look up the website of your favourite publication.

You’ve made it to the hot-topic story all your friends have been buzzing about, and it was written by your student publication. But this article is so much more than mere words on a screen.

Behind it is an entire community: a team of journalists, editors, fact-checkers, audio specialists, web and graphic designers and administrative staff whose articles are being hidden from you.

In the wake of the Online News Act, campus media, like CiTR and The Ubyssey are still working hard to serve you, and though you can’t turn to some social media for us — we’re still here.

And you know where to find us. U

VOLUNTEER FOR The Ubyssey

You’ve picked up this newspaper — now become a part of the team that created it! No experience required.

1. Come to our office. We work in room 2208 of the AMS Student Nest. Stop by to talk to an editor, use our microwave or just hang out!

2. Sign up for our pitch lists. Editors send out frequent emails through our pitch lists, which contain story ideas that any student can write or illustration or photo assignments. To pick up one, all you need to do is reply to the email!

3. Join our Discord server. Join our Discord server. It’s a place to find information about sections, to pick up pitches or to find out when we’re hosting events. Scan the QR code below to join.

4. Contact an editor. Interested in taking photos? Want to break the hottest UBC news? Interested in shooting or editing videos for The Ubyssey? Our editors can help with all of that! Scan the QR code below for all of our contact information. We check our emails frequently, and we don’t bite — we promise!

5. Be curious. We take pitches from students all the time. If you have an idea for a story, we want to hear it! The Ubyssey strives to cover a wide range of news, events and opinions, and we love hearing from new people. Stop by our office or contact an editor to pitch a piece.

Contributing isn’t your thing? Find new articles, videos and more daily at ubyssey.ca.

SOMETHING’S UP WITH THOSE COOKIES... //

UBC moves Blue Chip in university-wide conspiracy

Sidney Shaw Senior Staff Writer

I don’t know about y’all, but the new Blue Chip is screwing me up in more ways than one.

BLUE CHIP: MY WAYFINDING POINT

Anyone who knows anything about everything knows that nothing is real because everything is relative (science fact). Well, Blue Chip was my starting place. My cookie-filled checkpoint. The North Star, if stars

could sell a variety of beverages, baked goods and casual breakfast and lunch items. Every location at UBC was mapped in my head … in relation to Blue Chip.

Once upon a time, when life was simple and easy, Thirstyyy was a door down from Blue Chip. Subway was diagonally southeast across the field from Blue Chip. The Earth and Ocean Sciences building was a 750m walk. What is it now? 700?!

These days, I find myself constantly off by 50m in some unidentifyable direction. I tried

A similar lostness diagram is now translated to every point on campus.

“HARROWING READ.”

MY 21-YEAR-OLD FRIEND //

using my Compass Card to figure it out (because that’s what compasses are for, I think) but it wouldn’t tell me anything. It might be broken, so I put it in rice. Until it works again, the solution is to wander a 50m-radius around where my destination would have been in relation to the original Blue Chip for hours on end.

IKB TO THE BUS LOOP

I hate being late almost as much as I hate being early. Therefore, I am always exactly on time to the bus stop plus-or-minus two half-milliseconds. It’s called optimization, folks.

In the old, empty Pie R Squared location, I could cut across the corner of the nest, saving me one second on average. It’s basic Pythagorean theorem, you know? Take the hypotenuse to reduce distance travelled. My mom taught me this skill when she was teaching me to drive. Why take a right turn when you could just cut over the sidewalk?

But now, with their Blue Chiplength lines and their pointyass tables, I can’t even take my handy-dandy shortcut without receiving a cookie-sized bruise!! It’s made me miss 14 buses in the last week alone! Absolutely ridiculous. Cookies are just as round as pizza pies, so why did they have to make everything pointy?

COMFY CUSHIONS AND SPACIOUS SEA-

Whoops, sorry about that. Couldn’t finish my last point because I fell asleep on the comfy cushions and spacious seating at Blue Chip. Wait a second …

CONCLUSION

The AMS didn’t move the store because they wanted a bigger, better Blue Chip. After wandering like a lost puppy on campus, missing my bus and then falling asleep on the Blue Chip cushions as I waited for the next one (spoiler alert: I missed

that one, too), I believe I have stumbled upon a huge conspiracy: UBC doesn’t want us to leave campus.

The average five-year undergrad degree, advertised as four. The broken clocks in the library. And now, the confusing, hypotenuse slaughtering, cushy ass Blue Chip. Why else would they keep mildly inconveniencing me if they didn’t want me to stay at school forever?

Wake up, people. The evidence has been piling for years, but nothing points to the university’s goal to keep us on campus more than the recent Blue Chip move.

University of Blue Chip? No, University of the Big Conspiracy. U

‘It’s supposed to be fun turning 21’: Discounts for the washed-up has-beens of UBC

Though I may officially be old, my sense of humour keeps me young.

That’s right. I turned the infamous, harrowing, dreaded, wrinkle-inducing, “supposed to be fun” 21. Please contain your frightened gasps, refrain from crumpling up this issue and don’t run away screaming like I’m going to deplete your youth if you get too close — I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.

It’s time I face the truth. My freshman year is a relic of a distant past. My perpetually greige mud-

and-beer-stained Air Forces have been retired, swapped for some untainted new Blundstones that scream mature. That’s right, I use sidewalks instead of walking through the grass in front of IKB.

To the press and sway, the perpetual stench of frat houses, the succeeding sound of police sirens and the triumph of finishing an Ice before the drinking song turns to “Why Are We Waiting” — I say goodbye. Sayonara. See ya, hate to be ya.

I am a new woman. Reformed, reimagined, reintegrated into civil society. I am the hot TA. I am the person putting up tutoring fliers

on bulletin boards, lamp posts and occasionally the unaware student’s back. Thunder and I are on a first name basis (we’re close in a way you youngsters wouldn’t get).

I’ve started returning UBC Cards to the Bookstore lost and found instead of laughing at the suckers who won’t be able to pay for their undercooked dining hall chicken strips. I have blister band-aids in my first-aid kit. I actually charge my portable charger. I carry Tums in my purse, babe.

People say I’m washed-up, decaying, nearing the grave, and though they’re generally right, I am nothing if not a glass-half-full kind of girl. So here’s to 21, and here’s what all those restaurant menus are talking about when they say “senior discount.”

BLUE CHIP

2.1 per cent off black coffee, because that’s what old people drink I guess. After asking the barista what year she’s in — first — and ranting for 15 minutes about the time when my first-year psychology course got scaled down 1 per cent, she threw in a free splash of oat milk for my troubles, though I think she was aiming at my face. Whatever.

UBC BOOKSTORE

Twenty-one per cent off all millennial novelty merchandise, because nothing screams “twenty-one” like

a quirky pillow shaped like a uterus and some bespoke weiner dog print knee socks. I’ve found that these also work very well for the “sock bun,” which I’m told is an appropriate hairstyle for someone of my seniority.

AMS NEST

Access to an exclusive 21+ lounge. You likely haven’t heard of it, but it’s called “The Gallery” or “The Gal” for short (clever, I know) and it’s where us old people go to down a pitcher of sour beer sip a single glass of red wine whilst journaling, watching the sunset and being able to walk in a straight line.

21+ WASHROOMS

I’d drop the map, but I’m fake so I’m gatekeeping this one. I’m one foot in the grave and you want me to give this up, too?

REAL ADVISING

You may be thinking, “Hey, don’t we all get access to advising?” Sure, but have you actually ever received a single piece of advice from an advisor? Fourth, fifth, sixth and… seventh (?) year students are all granted meetings with a secret stash of advisors who’ll help you and care about you and make sure you get your classes and show you how to use Workday and respond to your emails and…

WRECK BEACH

Everyone over 21 has access to a personal shoulder-ffeur (like chauffeur, get it?) service wherein a first-year kinesiology student will put you on their shoulders and carry you up and down the Wreck Beach stairs! Creaky knees won’t stop our senior sunset lovers.

THE SSC

After experiencing the most fourth- and fifth-year drop outs in a single registration period, UBC has elected to allow students over 21 to continue using the SSC in order to protect student mental health and ensure that their years don’t go to waste because it took them over 20 hours to make their shitty Workday schedule and the six electives they want — plus some, like, “required courses” or whatever — are all in Term 2 from 2–3:30 p.m.

GRADUATION

One of the most exclusive perks of being over 21? Leaving soon and facing the ever-looming threat of real adult life. No training wheels, no gutter guards, no peaceful mode, no more inputting different email addresses to extend your free monthly trial. Just you and your LinkedIn account against the world.

Haha. But that’s for future you to worry about! Hope this helps! U

My freshman year is a relic of a distant past. ELITA MENEZES / THE UBYSSEY

Kyla Flynn Senior Staff Writer

SIDNEY SHAW / THE UBYSSEY

Twenty-one athletes from UBC to atend 2024 Paris Olympics

Nik Thakker Contributor

Once every four years, the world follows the most coveted multi-sporting event — the Summer Olympics. And with the end of July upon us, some of the Thunderbirds are gracing the Olympic stage in Paris.

Twenty-one UBC students and alumni are attending the Games, which run from July 26–August 11, of which three are attending the Paralympic Games from August 28–September 8.

The Thunderbird representation will be strongest in the swimming events, with seven athletes having connections to UBC. The 4x100m medley relay will see future and current UBC students Finlay Knox and Blake Tierney team up for Canada, both of whom train in Vancouver. Knox and Tierney will also take on individual events, with Knox set to compete in the 200m medley, and Tierney in the 100m and 200m backstroke.

On the women’s side, thirdyear student Emma O’Croinin is also one to watch. Setting a personal best in the qualifying event for the 200m freestyle, she will be

CHANGING THE GAME //

an integral member of Canada’s 4x200m freestyle relay team.

Outside of the pool, the inaugural marathon race walk mixed relay features a UBC kinesiology alum and current student pair, in Evan Dunfee and Olivia Lundman. The pair look strong, with Lundman already having made her mark in race walking after being the NAIA 5000m champion three years in a row and Dunfee holding the men’s Canadian record in the 3000m and 5000m.

Other disciplines that UBC athletes will be competing in include rugby sevens (Piper Logan and Florence Symonds), rowing (Kristen Kit, Jessica Sevick and Kristina Walker), athletics (Rowan Hamilton in hammer throw and Kieran Lumb in the 1500m) and volleyball (Flynn McCarthy). All three Paralympians from UBC will compete in men’s wheelchair rugby (Travis Murano, Byron Green and Travis Hirschfield).

But not all UBC athletes are competing for Canada — swimmer Karen Tam will represent Hong Kong, Abigail Raye will wear Belgium’s colours in field hockey and future T-Bird swimmer Kayla Sanchez is representing the Philippines.

Robin D’Abreo, UBC Athletics’ director of athletics, operation and team support, shed some light on the Olympic experience, as he competed in the 2000 Sydney Olympics.

“The Olympics are the pinnacle of amateur sport in any nation,” he said. “It’s often the pinnacle of a significant commitment and a significant number of years of really hard work and preparation that have led to that point.”

“I think it’s pretty special to that reason.”

For current varsity athletes, D’Abreo said elements of collegiate sport are replicated at the Olympics.

“The nerves you feel in the moment are quite similar because it represents the highest level of pressure you’d have felt at that point,” he said. “The one thing that changes is the scale and the significance of the competition.”

The Thunderbirds kicked off their respective campaigns on July 28, where Tierney took on the 100m backstroke and placed 15th. As of publication time, team Canada has earned six medals including silver for rugby sevens — a team with two T-Birds. U

Samantha Pritchard blends analytics and sports at the Olympics

Editor

While working as a performance analysis and technology specialist for the Canadian Olympic Com-

at the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics, Samantha Pritchard

equipment inside her jacket with hot hand warmers while she stood outside.

The February cold was, quite literally, freezing her analysis

equipment.

“We’re outside … we had to work off of battery-powered and WiFi systems, and everything kept shutting down because it was so cold,” said Pritchard.

Pritchard, the UBC sport science and sport medicine senior manager, is now attending the 2024 Paris Olympic Games as a performance analysis and technology specialist, with the goal of support-

ing coaches and athletes in their performances.

UNDERSTANDING AND EMPATHIZING

While studying kinesiology at McMaster University, Pritchard worked as a student volunteer coach for the university’s men’s soccer team and was involved in the athletes’ training sessions and ensuring they were “doing the exercises properly and in a safe way.”

Pritchard said her experiences as a student volunteer help her understand student experiences more, specifically now at UBC. “It helps me better understand … how we can develop or change … and how I can understand but also empathize with the students and know where they’re at,” said Pritchard.

Pritchard also completed a master’s in biomechanics at McMaster and a women in leadership certificate from Cornell University.

Pritchard said she wanted to make sure she could set herself — and her team — up for success since “most workplaces, not just sport ... are heavily male dominated.”

According to the International Olympic Committee, the Paris 2024 Olympics are the first ever games to reach gender parity. Only 13 per cent of coaches were women during the Tokyo 2021 games, and research from Loughborough University estimates that 25 per cent of Paris 2024 coaches will be women.

“It’s just really important because a lot of my mentors through

my career were men, a lot of my managers through my career have been men and some of them have been really, really fantastic, but I’ve not always had a strong female leader in my career,” said Pritchard.

“I think it’s important to provide opportunities for female students to see what is possible and [to] see someone else as a female leader, so I wanted to be able to be that person … and the only way I feel comfortable doing that is making sure I’m educated and empowered to do so.”

At UBC, Pritchard oversees athletes’ performance services including strength and conditioning, sports medicine, athletic and physiotherapy, nutrition and mental performance and health.

“The key part of my role is overseeing the staff that are employed in those areas, managing them [and] working with coaches on how those different staff members integrate with their teams … helping support the athletes [in reaching] their goal,” said Pritchard.

SUPPORTING AND INFORMING

That goal doesn’t change at the Olympic level. Pritchard has attended the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics, the 2018 PyeongChang Winter Olympics and the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics in addition to the 2024 Paris games. And though the games, seasons and locations change, the base of Pritchard’s role stays constant — she’s there to assist the Canadian teams.

“We’re really there to support the teams, specifically the coaches in any of their video and technology needs. We also support analysts … so this can be working with them through video clipping and getting the technology set up … or this could be analytical support,” said Pritchard.

Pritchard’s role as a performance analysis and technology specialist means she works with team coaches to analyze game play and data to inform their decisions moving forward in competition.

“In the simplest of terms, a lot of the time I’m following athletes around to the camera and taking video of them,” said Pritchard. “A good portion of what I do is linked to video and video analysis, so I spend a lot of time either with a video camera or watching and flipping video for teams.”

When asked what she’s looking most forward to this Olympics, Pritchard said she’s excited to see UBC athletes and alumni compete — among other things.

“The cheeky side of me wants to say croissants,” laughed Pritchard. “But honestly, I think it’s just experiencing a summer games again … just being back in that environment … and just being able to watch all the stories unfold.”

“Unfortunately, they’re not all going to be happy stories, but I do really enjoy being able to sit and admire all of the wonderful things and all the athletes have been able to accomplish.” U

The Paris Olympics run from July 26–August 11. EMILIJA HARRISON / THE UBYSSEY

Paris 2024 is Pritchard’s fourth Olympic Games as an analyst.

COURTESY SAMANTHA PRITCHARD

Iman Janmohamed Coordinating

mittee

shoved

Te 2023 CANMAT guidelines: What you need to know about the latest mood disorder treatments

Vicky Nguyen Senior Staff Writer

Almost 12.6 per cent of Canadian adults report experiencing symptoms related to a mood disorder, including depression and bipolar disorder, at some point during their lifetime.

With the prevalent stigma toward mood disorders, patients may not fully disclose their symptoms to physicians, making diagnostic accuracy and effective medical treatment challenging. Coupled with

LET’S POST ABOUT SEX, BABY //

high rates of burnout among mental health professionals preventing them from performing their duties effectively, health care professionals need support more than ever.

Medical professionals rely on guides like the Canadian Network for Mood and Anxiety Treatments (CANMAT) guidelines. It’s one of the most widely used sets of clinical guidelines for depression worldwide and was developed by a group of over 40 researchers and patient partners from across Canada

The CANMAT guidelines were

updated in 2023 from the previous version in 2016 to include more supported scientific evidence and revised recommendations for health care professionals in addressing major depressive disorder (MDD) in adults.

UPDATING THE GUIDELINES

CANMAT, an organization of academic and clinical experts in mood disorders, was established in 1995 to improve clinical care for people experiencing mood and anxiety disorders by providing accurate scientific information and accessible treatment guidelines for patients and their families.

“One of our main objectives is knowledge translation,” said Dr. Raymond Lam, a UBC professor of psychiatry and a co-lead author of the CANMAT updates. “These clinical guidelines that we develop really are a series of recommendations to help doctors and other mental health professionals better treat their patients.”

The 2023 CANMAT guidelines are the fourth reiteration since the development of the first version over 20 years ago, with new versions being released every 7 or 8 years.

The nationwide research group assessed all available evidence in the scientific literature to provide treatment recommendations, with the results evaluated and approved by experts in a rigorous peer-review process. Recommendations were organized into defined levels of evidence supported by clinical consensus on feasibility, safety and

tolerability to ensure physicians are informed with the most up-to-date information.

INCORPORATING PATIENT-CENTRED CARE

One of the most prominent updates in the 2023 CANMAT guidelines is emphasizing patient-centred care, which prioritizes educating patients and involving them in decision-making processes. The guidelines highlight psychoeducation, incorporating knowledge and information about symptoms, treatment options and coping strategies for depression among patients.

“We focus on the importance of shared decision-making, where patients have to understand their illness and understand what treatments are available so that they can make a joint decision with their mental health professional [to select] treatments,” said Lam.

Patient-centred approaches have been key in the development of the CANMAT guidelines since their inception. Patients with experiences of MDD, who Lam regarded as “an integral part” of the development, participated in the author group by developing questions and reviewing recommendations presented by the researchers.

NEW PSYCHOTHERAPIES AND ANTIDEPRESSANTS

Other updates included recommendations for new psychotherapies and antidepressants. While the main three therapies — cognitive behaviour therapy, interpersonal

psychotherapy and behavioural activation — remained from the 2016 guidelines, new therapies were proposed in the updated version.

For example, transdiagnostic psychological treatment, a therapy that seeks to tackle shared commonalities between disorders, was introduced and found to be particularly beneficial in individuals with multiple mood and anxiety disorders.

The new guidelines also incorporated medications to enhance the effectiveness of antidepressants, which Lam termed “adjunctive treatment.” One such medication is ketamine, an anesthetic that can be effective in combatting depression if prescribed in low doses via intravenous administration.

EMBRACING ACCESSIBILITY

Although highly informative, reading the 45-page-long CANMAT guidelines can be time-consuming for busy physicians.

“It’s very difficult to change clinician behaviour, whether you’re a doctor, psychologist or any other mental health professional,” said Lam, “People tend to do what they’ve learned and what they’ve always done.”

To encourage clinicians to consult the guidelines, Lam and his colleagues published a pocket guide to summarize key points. They also released a free patient guide to ensure patient understanding of the treatments, with plans to update the guide to reflect the 2023 CANMAT guidelines very soon.

“The science moves on.” U

Social media for science: #DebunkingDesire campaign

transforms women’s health

Cynthia Loyo Contributor

Despite affecting one in three women, low sexual desire remains misunderstood and rarely discussed. UBC’s #DebunkingDesire campaign is breaking this silence and reshaping the conversation.

The #DebunkingDesire campaign, led by Dr. Lori Brotto in collaboration with UBC Medicine and BC Women’s Health Research Institute, aims to dismantle myths and spread scientifically backed insights about low sexual desire in women. Through innovative social media strategies, the campaign strives to empower women to understand and embrace their sexuality.

Running from November 2019 to September 2020, #DebunkingDesire achieved over 300,000 impressions, with an engagement rate significantly higher than average. The campaign utilized social media outreach, educational materials and community engagement to connect with a diverse audience. Collaborations with influencers and podcasters further amplified its reach.

Brynn Lavery, #Debunking-

Desire’s social media coordinator, stressed the importance of providing scientifically backed online information. She said low sexual desire is often surrounded by shame and stigma — even as a common issue.

“Many women might not have access to this information from traditional sources,” Lavery said, highlighting the campaign’s success in using innovative digital strategies to reach and connect with diverse audiences.

Common myths include misconceptions that low sexual desire means you don’t love your partner, that sexual desire should be constant and that there is a ‘normal’ amount of sex one should have. According to Lavery, women’s desire is generally better centred around quality rather than quantity.

Traditional treatments for low sexual desire, such as cognitive behavioural therapy and mindfulness-based therapy, were also emphasized by the campaign. These therapies help individuals address negative thought patterns and become more attuned to their sensations without the pressure to

change them.

The campaign’s success was due to a dedicated team of social media managers, knowledge translators, research assistants, influencers and a patient partner — involving patients in health research encourages better outcomes. The campaign specifically targeted women experiencing low sexual desire, reaching a diverse demographic across ages, reproductive stages, ethnicities, cultures, geographies and sexual orientations. Lavery emphasized creating authentic and meaningful relationships with the target population.

She also noted the challenge of online patient-centred research, as the social media landscape is constantly evolving. When the campaign started in 2019, TikTok wasn’t widely used. The team adapted by being flexible with information-sharing strategies and creating content tailored for different platforms such as Instagram, Twitter and YouTube to ensure different audiences were reached.

UBC’s #DebunkingDesire campaign not only challenges misconceptions about low sexual desire but

also sets a new standard for using social media to empower communities and drive significant change in women’s health.

“Researchers invest significant time and resources into their work,”

said Lavery.

“It’s crucial to use knowledge translation tools to disseminate this information to the public, who often lack access to academic papers or conferences.” U

Clinical guidelines are primarily a series of recommendations for mental health professionals.

Common myths include misconceptions that sexual desire should be constant.

EMILIJA HARRISON / THE UBYSSEY

COURTESY UBC SEXUAL HEALTH RESEARCH

KHATSAHLANO

PHOTOS BY NATALIE CHOO

1. This fish sings a song.

5. The best grade.

10. A long-winded tale.

14. It’s almost a french owl.

15. Aristotle’s pedagogue.

16. Anyone can take this.

17. A programmer’s output.

18. Way out of the way, like farmland.

19. She’s Elena Gilbert.

20. The big boss (though, not The Boss.)

22. Put this in your inventory.

23. Ancient Egyptian symbol of life.

24. A MacBook Pro can’t take this.

26. “I need more time!”

30. ‘Si’ en Francais.

31. Louis Sachar’s bookturned-movie.

32. After-work drinks.

38. LxW=_

1. He composed ‘The WellTempered Clavier.’

2. This helps sunburn.

3. Canadians call it “pop”

4. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

5. “Kiss the cook.”

6. Put down bills.

7. Tough-wooded tree.

8. American state in which the BYU interviews occur.

9. Any movie’s high school party needs this.

10. The fastest, bluest hedgehog.

11. Maria’s cousin’s girlfriend.

12. Heredity’s work-clothes.

13. Hide-and-seek; Uno; Chess; Dominoes; Hangman

21. Dutch painter, 15821666.

25. Aspect of punk culture.

26. Bollywood actor; leader of Persia.

27. Pamplona runs these.

39. What the C.R.A. collects.

40. “____, Brute?”

41. Miss Piggy’s paradise.

43. You learn this before cursive.

44. ___ out a living, (to barely get by.”)

45. Incorrect declension of geese.

46. Paperclip alternative.

50. Elephants featured features.

52. Sleeping Beauty’s rest.

53. Leerer’s cheers.

59. More singular than the royal we.

60. German GM cars.

61. “The ____, the Bad, and the Ugly.”

62. Going on and on (and on and on and on...)

63. Societal values.

64. Nessie lives here.

65. Lest; or.

66. Joining fee.

67. Apple Martin’s big Apple

28. Showbiz’s “good luck!”

29. She’s on Love Island, Rob.

30. (Mouth) Doctor’s orders.

32. Possess; own; accquire.

33. The Woodcutter’s weapon.

34. What Homelander, Starlight, A-Train, and others-- aren’t.

35. He dated Ruby. And Ola. And Maeve. And Lily.

36. An anagram of TUNE, a rural Norwegian village.

37. Fanfic topic.

39. The hardest tests.

42. Electric sushi option.

43. an RP accent.

45. His head just did that here.

46. Hockey point totals.

47. Melodic quality.

48. Grace’s end.

49. Command + V

50. Siskel’s ex.

51. More qualified.

54. Second fairytale word.

55. U...mlaut citrus.

56. Boop-oop-a-doop!

57. Bouche d’Espagne.

58. Everyone’s got it these days.