Surviving Canadian Winter: A Sauvé Story

by Handy Acosta Cuellar

Half of the Sauvé Scholars Program has passed, and we, the scholars, are beginning to feel that the end is near.  That awareness has led me to reflect on the winter and year that has been thus far and to offer some advice.

The main entrance of the Sauvé House in winter

Though the white snow covers almost all of Montreal, we are experiencing crazy temperature variations — clear evidence of global warming.  But the cold days are still a factor, both in the streets of the city and in Sauvé House as well.  To avoid the cold temperature the scholars usually gather on the 3^rd floor to work at night and talk about politics, news or even the program itself.  It’s a really enjoyable moment to learn from my partner’s perspectives and culture as well as to reflect on the program itself.

Before coming to Canada, many people warned me about the winter season, especially coming from Cuba a lovely tropical island.  It is the opinion of most all my Cuban friends that I probably will not survive my first winter and after the first snowstorm I will escape back to the island.

The truth: it is not that bad. 

In fact, you can enjoy the winter season. All you need to do is embrace the outside and try to do the same that Canadians do. That includes skating, skiing (cross country and alpine), snowball fights or just walking in the snow.  So my advice to you is not remain at home, but rather to take the initiative, explore and enjoy some outdoor activities.

Fist day skiing at Orangeville, Ontario. 

During this winter I had the chance to visit other provinces. I traveled to Nova Scotia and Ontario by train. It was an amazing experience that I strongly recommend. During the winter the Canadian landscape is totally gorgeous and the whiteness of the trails gives you an entirely different perspective of the geography.  I stayed almost 2 weeks with friends and host families, spending Christmas and New Years eve together with them. During my journey from the wild coast of Halifax to the mountains near Orangeville, I realized that Canadians are an incredible people.  Each person I met was open, warm, friendly and very welcoming.  Just by chatting I learned about diverse topics, from sustainable agriculture to zen meditation, from cross country skiing to soccer, and much more. 

Which leads to my second piece of advice: make friends and travel beyond Québec.

Field trip with colleagues from Dalhousie University in Cristal Crescent Park, Nova Scotia

Quebec, of course, also has much to offer.

Don’t suppose that everything is calm at Sauvé house.  The hokey season has started and my friend Jonathan has become crazy about it. If fact he organized a cultural night and managed to get most scholars into the Canadian passion for this game.  Now I am a fan of the Canadiens, the Habs as they are called, the local team and by far the best of the league.

Learning urban agriculture and composting in Montreal. 

Some final observations from this post are living, experiential statements about how “old man winter” can affect our brains. We learned how to compost our waste in the middle of the frozen park across the street thanks to Sauvé House staff Valerie, and Eco-Quartier McGill representative, Peter.   Even in the depths of the frigid cold, we have taken our first steps towards making the Sauvé House greener.

Yet another reason to love and enjoy the winter.     

Meditations of a Latter-day Habs-fan

The following text is an edited version of a talk delivered last Wednesday, February 6th at Sauvé House, in advance of the Habs' 2-1 loss to the Big Bad Boston Bruins.  

Bienvenue tout le monde and welcome to Sauvé house.

Tonight, I hope to give you some insight into the psyche of a modern day Habs fan. A Habs fan that has lived in the dreaded diaspora cheering on Les Glorieux from the heart of Leafs' country for the better part of three decades. I now stand before you having made it to the promised land for one strike-shortened season of glorious hockey. 

My colleagues will be shocked to hear this but today I am renouncing atheism and can admit that I believe in God.  Well, in the hockey gods anyhow. Until January, you see, it seemed commissioner Gary Bettman, greedy team owners and an entitled players union felt that I was undeserving of an experience I had longed after since I was born the child of expat Montrealers in the great cultural hub of London, Ontario. 

That dream was to live in this hockey-crazed city for a full season of hockey, to cheer on ‘les boys’ at the bars with fellow fans, to gloat of our spoils in the cold streets after gritty wins one too many Molson Dry’s to my name.

In early January, to my delight, the season was saved.  The Hockey Gods, I am certain, had weighed my predicament and in their great wisdom granted me (at least) 48 games.

Tonight, in addition to watching the Habs take on their great rival, a very good and tough hockey team in the Boston Bruins, I hope to give you a glimpse into how the rouge, blanche et bleue have coloured my life. And I want to dig a little deeper into what I believe some, if not many, committed sports fans derive from cheering on their favorite team. 

I also want to challenge, though indirectly, the contention which social critics like Noam Chomsky have floated — that professional sports are a harmful distraction, a commercial often corporatized endeavour that effectively dopes the masses and keeps them from addressing more pressing issues.

I think that kind of critique has merit.  But I also think it misses something profound.

There are no doubt wasted hours spent glued to a television, or thumbing a mobile app.  And it’s difficult to reconcile the unbounded pride of a win or the frustration of a loss with the stark realities that so many people on this planet face, in want of life’s basics. The satisfaction that comes from following a sports team seems unwarranted, even empty when thought of in this light. 

But underpinning the satisfaction, I hope to persuade you, lies much more.  Underneath is a kind of solidarity, membership in a community, and opportunities to form lasting traditions. Fandom is an outlet to tap to into the ‘lightness of being’, sometimes a welcome distraction from hardship or a respite from the day to day malaise. 

What I mean is fandom, Habs-fandom, brings meaning to my life.

These lofty underpinnings I’ve listed above are things that are hard to come by in this secular age, as the great Montreal philosopher -and I suspect Habs fan- Charles Taylor has written. I am going to try and back up my claim through personal and family anecdote, and explain why what former Gazette columnist and Habs blogger Mike Boone describes as the "agony and ecstasy" of being a Habs fan is worth it. Ten times over.

The Hockey Sweater
Not unlike young Roch, the irreverent protagonist in one of Canada’s literary treasures, Le Chandail de Hockey, I have my own hockey sweater story.  You see, growing up the son of expat Montrealers who had watched the likes of Beliveau, Dryden and Lafleur, I was baptized young into Habs fandom.  

My father’s mood, like many other Habs fans, would be sour after a loss and inevitably lighter after a win. It softened or hardened depending on the fortunes of the rival Boston Bruins or Toronto Maple Leafs.

So steeped and self assured in my love of the Montreal Canadiens was I at the age of four that at my first hockey practice I got myself, and my father, into a bit of trouble.

At the season’s first practice team jerseys had yet to be distributed.  So as tired parents filed their eager sons into the dressing room, groggily sipping their Timmies coffee at 6:30 am, each child was wearing his own jersey.  Beaming with pride, the beautiful crest of the CH across my chest, I stopped in shock when I saw another young boy pull the despicable blue and white Leafs jersey over his head.  So derided had the Leafs been in my house, I began to laugh and point…

“Hahah. Look dad. A leafs Jersey!” … who would wear such a thing by choice I wondered in amusement?

As the other boy shifted uncomfortably in his oversized hockey pads, his dad, six foot two and none too impressed, asked my father if he’d like to step outside. My father politely declined.

A Different Time

Dad grew up in a different era. An era before, as Mordecai Richler famously wrote, the fall of the Montreal Canadiens.  Montreal’s favorite curmudgeon captured well why the team was so special, so revered, so unique in sports.

“For years, years and years, les Canadiens were a team unlike any other in sports….Not only because they were the class of the league…but also because they were not made up of hired outsiders but largely of Quebecois, boys who had grown up in Montreal or the outlying towns of the province.  We could lend our loyalty  without qualification, because they had not been merely hired to represent us on ice — it was their birthright.  As boys, Belivaue and I had endured the same blizzards.  Like me, Doug Harvey had played softball in an NDG park.’

Richler traced the beginning of the fall to the change of the draft rules that had allowed Montreal first and second pickings to the best of Quebec’s hockey talent until 1969.

By 1980, five years before I was born, Richler despaired at his team’s fall from grace:

“Try to understand that in this diminishing city we have survived for years confident that any May the magnificent Canadiens did not bring home the Stanley Cup was an aberration. An affront to the fans.  Or just possibly an act of charity.  Pour encourager les autres.’

Like Richler, and so many other Quebeckers –English, French, or a mix like my mother- my father was a product of his time.  He cheered for a team where a player like Henri Richard could skate for 20 years and bring home 11 cups. 

My father used to watch the hockey games from his room in a house on Lennox Ave in the now-dwindling Jewish neighborhood near the Wilderton shopping Centre off of Van Horne.  If he had to go to the bathroom during play, he would ask my grandmother to keep tabs on the game.  Rushing back, asking if anyone had scored, she would often reply “Replay, Replay scored” in her thick Eastern European accent. Hockey had not caught her post-war imagination.

My father’s own history, I venture, explains a lot about my own inculcation and lasting obsession.

The Montreal Canadiens have been theorized and studied as a sort of religion in Quebeck by sociologists.  That resonates for me if in a more simple way —my connection to the Habs comes from the meaning it had to my family and from the traditions that shaped my experience for as long as I can remember. 

Tradition, Tradition

Saturday nights, of course, were always Hockey Night in Canada.  Often, I watched those games in French on SRC on channel 5, ever angry at the Leaf-friendly CBC English broadcasts on channel 6 that chose to air lackluster Leaf teams over and above Shayne Corson, Kirk Muller, Pierre Turgeon or other favorite players of mine over the years.  SRC broadcasts also meant avoiding Don Cherry and his bigoted tirades.

As a young kid, you were always allowed to stay up late to watch those Saturday night games to their end. Week night games were trickier.

My dad, ever the sucker for Habs-based appeals, could always be pushed to let me stay up for “one more whistle”…

Regardless of if I saw the game or not, I’d be up at 6:30 am the next morning to watch the highlights on TSN’s Sports Desk, then on channel 24.  To this day, I still watch highlights of games repeatedly even when I’ve seen a game. For that I have little explanation.

The first time I remember my dad crying was in 1989 when the Flames beat the Habs in the Stanley Cup Finals.  My mother, I remember clearly, told me to leave my dad and his sulky friends be. 

There was also the time I was allowed to stay home from school without being or faking sick.  It was the day after Montreal traded Stephane Richer to the New Jersey Devils.  Waking up to the news, I felt so betrayed.  Sick to my stomach.  When my father returned home from work that night, he had bought me a Stephane Richer hockey card… he was rather broken up about the 40+ goal scorer being unloaded too.

To riff again on the connection my relationship with the Habs has with religion, any Jewish-Canadian can tell you that the first round of the playoffs often coincides with the holiday of Passover.  How many Seders have I strategically picked my seat so that I could easily slip out to check the scores.  These days, the TSN app is never far from my tempted hands.

But truth be told, being a Habs fan in this era is different than it was for my parents.  The original six teams are now joined by 24 other teams from un-godly places like Nashville, San Jose and Florida that wouldn’t know hockey if it spit on their shoes.

The Here and Now

For my part, I’ve seen only two cups come home. In 1986, rookie Patrick Roy led the team to a spectacular and unexpected championship.  But I was one.  In 1993, at the excitable age of eight, the cup was deservedly hoisted by Roy again and fiercely celebrated by yours truly.  To this day, I can name that plucky 93 roster off the top of my head.

In a league punctuated by three strikes since 1994, I have stomached some less than memorable teams (last year’s was quite the stinker) players (from red-light Racicot to Scott Gomez) and trades. Remember John Leclair and Eric Desjardin traded for Marc Recchi? Patrick Roy leaving to Colorado for a bunch of nobodies? And Chelios for Savard? Come on.

But I have also rode waves of utter elation. A few in particular come to mind:

-Three years knocking the hated and higher rated Bruins out of the first round when we qualified a lowly eighth.

-Alex Kovalev’s 84 point season, the enigmatic Russian dazzling with stick handling and a slap shot when he swung off the half boards that every kid dreams of. 

-The deep playoff run a few years back led by Jaroslav Halak.  I watched from Vancouver, my masters thesis languishing, and spent $50 on long distance calls to my friend Ben Gliksman as we watched in disbelief the take down of Ovechkin’s Washington, and Sidney Crosby’s Pittsburgh before bowing out to the Flyers. 

Most recently, my brother and I witnessed Alex Galchenyuk, one part of the two rookie line I call the ‘good gallies’, score his first goal in front of a raucous Bell Centre crowd. 

Most of all though, I remember watching the ten-minute long standing ovation for Saku Koivu, when he returned from his battle with cancer and went onto lead the Habs to victory in the first round against, you guessed it, the Bruins. 

The resilience he showed resonated even more when my father would later face and lose his own bout with cancer.  The Jersey I have with me here tonight was a gift from his close friends when he was already sick.

All of these meandering memories are meant to illustrate how the Montreal Canadiens have been a sustained ribbon running through my upbringing, a clothes line upon-which emotions, memories, and traditions have been hung. Following the Habs has been as much about the links to my past as it has the “ole ole ole’s” in the now and it will continue on (not unconditionally BETTMAN) to shape the lives of my yet-to-be born kid.

Isn’t this the stuff that constitute meaning in life? That sounds absurd, but it feels true.

I cheer for the six men on the ice -for the big hits, the flashy saves, the gritty road wins- but those cheers are informed and given life by much more. 

In conclusion, I offer this— the Habs are off to a surprising 6-2 start…Lets pray, baruch hashem, they are destined for the playoffs.

@jonathan_sas

Vietnamese Cultural Night

One of the highlights of the Sauvé Scholar Program is the national cultural night, an opportunity afforded to each scholar during their time at Sauvé house to present to the Montreal community on their home culture. Last Friday, I had the opportunity to introduce my country, Vietnam, to the Sauvé Foundation's Board of Directors, to the Foundation staff, to my fellow scholars and to my other friends here in Montreal.

Because I also had to organize  a workshop about the legacy of war and occupation in Vietnam, I decided to combine that workshop with a presentation of other touchstones of Vietnamese culture including its geography, legends, history, culture and food.

I began to prepare for my cultural night over a month ago. I must thank my uncle Truong and aunt My Lien, friends whom I recently met in Montreal, for helping me with planning what food to prepare for the evening. After a discussion with them, we decided our menu would feature food from the three regions of Vietnam: the North, the Middle and the South. The menu included: Nem (Spring Rolls), Bánh Cuốn (Winter Rolls), Gỏi Cuốn (Summer Rolls), Xôi Đậu Xanh (Sticky Rice and Green Bean); deserts were tropical fruits, coconut candy, banana candy and coconut juice. Yummy!!!

We went to the oriental market...

There we bought a lots of stuff. Though there were only four main dishes we were buying for, we had to buy so many little things to make them taste just right.

Aunt My Lien is the big chef,

                                                                       making Nem 

Uncle Truong assisted sometimes when he had the time...

The final product was delicious:

                                                          NEM (Pork, mushroom, onion,...)

                                               Preparation for making Gỏi Cuốn (Summer Rolls)

After a month being BUSY with the preparation, it was time to present:

                                                                                       Introducing participants

I began by inviting my guests in Montreal to experience Vietnam, traveling from the North to the South, by tasting the foods from the different regions:

I then invited my guests to get on a special air plane (the "special air plane" which I mention was a series of interesting video clips :) ), to take a trip through 4000 years of Vietnamese history.

I began when the Viet people were created and the country established. According to the Legend, the Vietnamese are the descendants of the Dragon Lac Long Quan and the Fairy Au Co. I presented the story of this Legend and our first 3000 years of history by showing this video clip:

Vietnamese legend and history 

I then described how the Viet people have fought time and again against powerful foreign invaders.  Watching other videos that outlined our storied resilience, I highlighted the many victories of the Vietnamese people against invasion and occupation.  During this first 3000 years of Vietnamese history, our people fought in order to save the Vietnamese land and people in a number of invasions. This instilled a tradition of resistance to foreign domination that is said to have prepared the Viet people to fight against many powerful military intrusions that occured in modern times. 

For example in 1858, French colonialists invaded Vietnam starting eighty years of exploitation and oppression of the Vietnamese. There were many revolts and uprisings, but most failed. The uprising became successful only when Ho Chi Minh (our national hero!) recognized the potential of Communism to unify the people.

In 1954, the Vietnamese totally defeated the French colonialist at the Dien Bien Phu battle .

The war did not stop there. As the fear of communism spread throughout the whole Asia, American Imperialists invaded Vietnam. The Vietnamese had to keep fighting another 30 years for freedom and independence.

One of the consequences of the American Vietnam war was/is the many victims of Agent Orange.  Agent Organce is a very powerful herbicide that was used in the war by the American army in order to destroy forests where Vietnamese soldiers were thought to be hiding. When it is released, some dioxins are also generated. Dioxins can cause cancer and lead to genetic modifications. Decades later after the war, dioxins still lurk in Vietnamese soil, causing deformities which are passed on from generation to generation.

Finally, I introduced to my guests some important elements of Vietnamese culture. 

 Đàn Bầu- Vietnamese traditional musical instrument 

A few months before coming to Canada, I met with Nguyen Thanh Tung who is a famous Vietnamese monochord music performer and composer. He is well-known not only for his moving monochord performances and compositions, but also for his inner strength and perseverance as a blind Agent Orange victim. Thanh Tung has performed Vietnamese traditional music and masterpieces by Beethoven,  Chopin, etc., in many countries and received worldwide notice. 

                                                              Nguyen Thanh Tung

The talent and perseverance of Tung Nguyen has inspired me to learn Đàn Bầu.  I decided to play a tune for my guests. 

In this video, Tung Nguyen performs "You Raised Me Up" by Đàn Bầu. 

Vietnamese Traditional Dress - Áo Dài 

I also introduced to my guests the Vietnamese traditional dress - Áo Dài - using a short video clip showing the history of Áo Dài. 

      

The Vietnamese cultural night was a great success! I'm so thankful to the Sauvé Scholar Foundation for giving me this opportunity to introduce to my friends in Montreal some important parts of my country and history. 

I would like to thank everyone for coming to learn about Vietnam. I would also like to thank uncle Truong, aunt My Lien and my fellow scholars for helping me with organizing this event. 

You made the night wonderful!! 

At Justin Trudeau's official Campaign Launch

Sometimes the distinction between journalism and punditry can be hard to strike. This is even harder when you are a scribe specialising in covering political events. And, for me in particular, yesterday was one of those moments when I found myself in between a rock and a hard place. But I chose to navigate this path anyway. For that reason, whatever I am writing here is from the position of an independent observer who puts his ‘ear to the ground’ hoping to pick whatever is there to be picked. Having worked as apolitical reporter in Uganda for a couple of years, yesterday was one of those unique moments I found myself in a difficult situation, in a different country, in a different continent and in a different atmosphere. To start it off, I and three of my colleagues, set off at about 5:40pm to attend Justin Trudeau’s official launch for his campaign to seek the leadership of the Liberal Party of Canada and ultimately Prime Minister of Canada.

This was my first time to attend a political event when I am not under pressure to meet any story submission deadline. This event, instead, became an opportunity for I observed more things than I would have observed had I been thinking of meeting deadline or if my minds had been consumed by issues regarding which story angle I would have to take. In this 500+community hall, there were a lot of takeaways to notice, especially as regards politics as we know it and politics as it’s practiced in Africa. First, Mr Trudeau, whose father was a former Canadian Premier, delivered a good speech portraying his vision for the future. Specifically, he emphasized that it was the right time for the new generation to take charge, and that his leadership was about “the future, not the past”

Two hours after, I was hooked on television watching the same events I had attended; I came to learn, from watching one reporter, that the 40 year-old Liberal Party candidate was riding on his father’s legacy to attain the top party leadership. If that is the case, then he is playing his cards differently. If this was in Africa, it would not have been a surprise to see posters printed with ‘father-son’ seated together, guarded by military artillery vehicles, with hundreds of AK47 wielding security personnel surrounding them. Now, that’s what Africans mean when they say that ‘the ex. President’s son is riding on his father’s legacy to take over power’. In fact, throughout Trudeau’s speech, I heard only one passing reference to his father. That sounds anti-African, right? In Africa, politicians are predominantly inaccessible not only to their electorates but also to senior party delegates. Had yesterday’s event been in Africa, it would have taken anyone a ‘hell’ of time to meet and greet Mr Trudeau. But I just saw how simply he entered the Community Hall with his wife and without any military or police protection. To be clear, there was police presence but the three police officers I saw were stationed outside the community centre. Unlike in Africa where opposition are seen by those in powers to be arch enemies, who should never be granted the right to mobilise, assemble or access any public space. I was impressed by how Trudeau explained his ideological difference with opponents of his party, whom he will face in the general elections if he is elected the flag-bearer of his party.

The Liberal Party of Canada, he said, stands for the restoration of economic prosperity of Canada’s middle class and building a better country where all Canadians can unite together as members of one family. He explained that the challenges faced by Canada cannot be solved by adopting the “wrong” agenda being proposed by the Conservative party and NDP. "What's the response from the NDP? To sow regional resentment and blame the successful. The Conservative answer? Privilege one sector over others and promise that wealth will trickle down, eventually," he said, adding, "Both are tidy ideological answers to complex and difficult questions. The only thing they have in common is that they are both, equally, wrong." He then positioned his quest for leadership as a takeover of the new generation which is ready to work hard and solve its own challenges. "It is time for us, for this generation of Canadians, to put away childish things," he said. "More, it is time for all of us to come together and get down to the very serious, very adult business of building a better country." Well, coming from a country (Uganda) still suffering from undemocratic rule, it was an opportunity to wittiness democracy at its best. My country adopted a progressive constitution in 1995, which was supposed to act as a basis for the country’s democratization process but it is seventeen years since its promulgation, yet Uganda’s democratization process has been sliding backwards, reversing into a one-man’s rule. In Uganda’s case, since 2006, three of the country’s elections results were brought before the Supreme Court and in all instances the court acknowledged the merits of the evidence brought by the petitioners. The court found evidence of rigging, militarization, and intimidation, disenfranchisement of voters and falsification of the results. In 2004, President Museveni, who came to power in 1986 promising full democracy, personally engineered the removal of presidential term-limits which allows him to rule the country for as long as he wishes. To have this term-limits amendment passed, he orchestrated a political move that saw each Member of Parliament receive a 5 million bribe. All in all, it is clear that the contrast between Politics in Canada and politics in Africa is indeed staggering. And Justine Trudeau and Canada’s multiparty democracy may probably offer an opportunity for struggling democracies like Uganda to learn the way democracy ought to be practiced.

Posted by Gerald Bareebe, Jeanne Sauve Scholar, McGill University, 2012-2013

From Reproductive Justice to Human Rights Movement

Being an activist is one of the most amazing things that could ever happen to me! I, again, came to this conclusion after participating in a lecture organized by 2110 Center for Gender Advocacy at Concordia University in Montreal. The event welcomed a guest speaker, Loretta Ross, who was addressing topics such as reproductive justice, rape,women's rights, oppression, and building human rights movement. Even thought the theme of the talk may seem quite heavy, the lecture was one of the funniest, the most empowering, and uplifting speeches I have heard in years. 

Loretta Ross is one of the main forces behind an organization called SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective, whose "mission is to amplify and strengthen the collective voices of Indigenous women and women of color to ensure reproductive justice through securing human rights." 

Before I start sharing my observations and learning points, I'd like to shortly explain what 'reproductive justice' is. In short, it can be defined as a freedom for women to decide about their bodies but holding the state responsible for providing the proper framework for women to develop, raise children (if they wish to have them) and have actual choice. Loretta Ross explained the difference between reproductive justice and reproductive rights discourse as "not only have the freedom to have a child or not to have a child but also to be able to raise the child and have a quality life". In another words "for reproductive justice activists, the primary difference between the reproductive rights and health frameworks and the reproductive justice framework is that the rights and health frameworks focus on protecting individual rights and choices, while the reproductive justice framework focuses on broader socioeconomic conditions and bringing about structural change."(1) Loretta also compared those two discourses in a simple way: pro-birth (reproductive rights discourse) vs pro-life (reproductive justice discourse).

It was amazing to watch Loretta speak and share her personal story of sexual abuses and full of challenges in an empowering way, making the audience burst out laughing numerous times. One of the lines that I found very interesting, among many many others, was the way she dealt with receiving over and over again the same question about fighting oppression, she said: "Loretta, aren't you tired of fighting oppression? Then my answer is 'Tired offighting oppression? Not as much as being oppressed!'" It was just the beginning of the lecture and at the same a very powerful moment for me as an activist because this is exactly what I do and what it feels like! Even though Loretta and I work in different fields, it was so easy to relate to her words.

She also addressed the fact that activists and people working towards making a change in the world tend to complain about hardships, being tired, and having endless amounts of work. Her answer to this was: "We social justice people are very privileged! We are very fewpeople who don't put up with hate and oppression. We need to be responsiblewith that privilege! Like with any other privilege! And, please, don't play theoppression Olympics: my oppression is worse than yours! ;)" I was sitting there grinning because I knew exactly what she was talking about! Activists are amazing people but sometimes we need reality check in order to stop, see what we actually have, and we need to learn to appreciate it, and acknowledge how privileged we are to be able to do what we love and work to make change in the world. Not everyone is as lucky as we are!

Loretta talked about knowing differences between an enemy and problematic ally, which brought the audience, first to laughter, and then to a big round of applaud! "I know the difference between an enemy and problematic ally - with the ally you can actually agree on things that you want to work on together even though you may not necessarily understand each others realities". What I found interesting and maybe even a bit intriguing was her statement that in order to be able to work with (problematic) ally, we have to get over the unrealistic expectation that the ally will understand our realities because the truth is that they will not. I guess that this thought could be connected with the belief that many people thinking differently want to reach the same goal, which was identified as one of the major challenges of the human rights movement. Loretta believes that social rights movements need to get over the single-identity agenda fights but instead work intersectionally combining different identities and realities as we are never only 'one'. A person is never only a woman, but can be also trans, or have disability, and so on. We cannot work for equality not communicating with each other and being separated. Another round of applaud came with Loretta's reference to Martin Luther King's sermon delivered just 4 days before his assassination in 1968 where he was speaking about creating not 'only' civil rights movement but human rights movement, which he never managed to witness happening. She jokingly said "for all those years everyone was telling me that Martin Luther King had a dream! No one told me he had a plan!" :) She continued saying that "we need to build human rights movement - intersectional movement, you can't fight for women's rights in racist way, you can't fight for LGBTQ rights and violate disabled people." This also identifies one of the challenges, which is convincing people to work together even though there is no agreement on all fronts regardless of the end aim - equality, respect, and freedom. 

This is just give you a taste of what I experienced during 2.5h lecture full of reflection, laughter, and 'aha' moments. I could relate so many things to the LGBTQ or transgender movements, the mechanisms of work, cooperation, and internal struggles follow the same logic or maybe lack of it... To reflect on Loretta's words on being privileged as a civil rights activist, I definitely feel extremely privileged and lucky to be a part of this huge machinery for change! I would never trade this for anything else. I believe that if we let ourselves learn from each other and pay more attention to what we can offer to each other, we would be stronger and more efficient fighting for our rights. As a human being I would like to see people being safe and free; and as an activist, I would like to see one big united human rights movement envisioned years ago by a great activist and leader, Mr King to rock. Who's with me?

(1) Asian Communities for ReproductiveJustice 2005, p.3.

Why the Student Movement Must Evolve

Last Sunday, I went to Parc Lafontaine to observe the latest Quebec student protest along with several other scholars.  With the PQ government having already promised to quash the tuition increases, this rally attracted the most committed activists, those who are pushing for an end to tuition and who are nervous about the direction of the approaching summit on higher education.

When I returned home from this comparatively small march, I started thinking further about where the movement is going to go next.  I then came across an op-ed in the Toronto Star written by leaders of the more ‘radical’ of the student groups, CLASSE, who had organized and led the day's march.  

I decided to submit the following letter to the editor of the Star:

CLASSE is right to pause and recognize the victories of the Québec student movement ( Québec Student’s Hail Their Movement’s Victories).  That hundreds of thousands of citizens mobilized to protest peacefully for change, taking to the streets for months, should inspire people on both sides of the solitude regardless of where one falls on the tuition issue itself.

But if the student movement has truly shown there are no limits to the “politically possible,“ and that the “dogmas of the rich and powerful” can be overcome by broad citizen engagement, then the movement must now begin to look beyond the singular issue of access to education.

The student movement was always on its strongest footing when it linked its fight for access to education to the broader fight against growing corporate power and the perverted spending priorities of government.  It was less compelling when the salaries of University administrators and researchers were its principle focus and target.

To its credit, CLASSE’s manifesto challenged head on the narrow economic way of thinking guiding neo-liberal policy.  The Manifesto decries the privatization of public services and the increase in corporate wealth at the expense of average citizens. It speaks out against spiraling environmental degradation at the hands of industry and the persistence of ethnic, gender and other forms of systemic discrimination.

Where the Occupy movement could muster several thousand to city streets, the Québec student movement brought hundreds of thousands together listen to student leaders describe a system they see as stacked in favor of the few.

But while its one thing for student leaders to have spoken to other issues and struggles, its another entirely to mobilize action around those issues. 

It is important to consider why so many people took to the streets of Montreal: was it because the tuition increase affected their bottom line? Or was there something more to the movement, a broader dissatisfaction with the status quo and a will to fight for broader societal change?

Whatever the answer to these questions, the student movement has an opportunity to use its momentum to channel the energy and awareness already built during the spring towards taking action on other causes.  Its not hard to imagine the message that would be sent to those in power, whether in Québec city or Ottawa, if 100, 000 people were marching in the streets, month after month, to demand increases in corporate taxation, or to oppose the Northern Gateway pipeline and call for stricter environmental regulations.

In Québec, that will mean some tough choices for student leaders many of whom are sovereigntists and have an affinity with the ruling péquistes.  It means CLASSE must speak out, and loudly, when the government betrays progressive principles; when it drifts into worrisome flurries of ethnic nationalism, or excludes First Nations from a fare say in the development of the North for example.

The student movement can certainly pause to reflect on and acknowledge its achievement.  But it would be foolish not to link its fight to broader social struggles that are even more pressing. For progressives across the country there lies the hope the movement in Québec might lead to something much bigger, something that can undermine the dominance of neo-liberal thinking in our provincial and federal capitals alike.

Fall at Trout Lake

As I watch the leaves slowly reaching the ground, I have an epiphany about why ‘fall’ is called ‘fall’.

Almost three weeks into the Sauvé Program, and nine of us are having a relaxing retreat with the stated mission of ‘enjoying Canada before it gets cold’.

I am eating Corn Flakes with milk and listening to Cuban music. Outside it is raining. I am sitting on a sofa in the veranda of a cottage somewhere outside Montreal contemplating leaves becoming yellow. Yesterday I was not sure what a ‘cottage’ was all about. Now I know it is a place from which the world seems a little slower and calmer.

This morning I passed up going on an excursion to the local fruit market in order to work on my “one pager,” a document that will be circulated to support the achievement of my goals during the next nine months. I stayed behind in the calm of the cottage to put my mind in order. 

A lot has happened since I moved to Montreal. We have been in a constant orientation mode and my system has not yet assimilated to the reality that the Sauvé house and Montreal are my new homes.  Last week I was lucky to attend the CIVICUS World Assembly which turned out to be an inspiring networking and idea-rich experience. 

Meanwhile, I still do not have a lot of clarity about how I will prioritize and reach my goals this year. Working on the one pager is helping me organize and compartmentalize the different inputs, plans and considerations I have had so far. I am ready (and slightly edgy) to dig into the heart of my work: building a financial strategy and a board of directors to ensure Recrear, the organization I co-founded and worked with during the last two years, can continue working towards its vision. In the weeks that follow I will begin a full regime of meetings, classes and independent work…This weekend at the cottage is an opportunity to put things in perspective, and get reenergized.

Most importantly, however, this weekend I am on a mission to enjoy this time with my roommates. After a few hours of reflection (the falling leaves and pattering rain a backdrop for my contemplation) I am actually looking forward to the return of my Sauvé buddies at the cottage. In the midst of all the little practical things we talk about on a daily basis, we still have had little time to get to know one another more deeply.  We have a good idea of one another’s professional experiences and ambitions, but still little real comprehension of how the micro thoughts and experiences of each person blend together to make us the unique cocktail we are.

This weekend, I want to make sure to engage in real conversations with each person, without getting stuck in the technicalities of our “to do's.” At the very beginning of this exercise, I feel that every little story that we share is this gateway to another culture and conception of the world- to another very unique individual universe. In the process, I am starting to become very aware that this type of exchange will be the most incredible aspect of my experience during the Sauvé Program.

By Gioel Gioacchino