Crime & the Law Conference – Day 2 Recap

[This post is written by a friend and colleague in the law faculty, David Groves. We attended a conference this week called "Crime & the Law: The Future of Justice in Canada" hosted by the McGill Institute for the Study of Canada as student bloggers. This is his recap of the second day of the conference.]

The theme of the day was the recently passed Bill C-10, or the “Safe Streets and Communities Act”. It was, to put it mildly, not well-received. In a panel on sentencing, Howard Sapers, the Correctional Investigator of Canada, stated that “it’s hard to imagine a society realizing its potential by increasingly caging more of its citizens.” Senator James Cowan decried the “vending machine”-logic that lies behind mandatory minimums. Professor Carrie Rentschler of McGill argued that both the content of the Harper crime agenda and its rhetoric closely mirror the now widely condemned “tough on crime” legislation of the 60s and 70s in the United States. After all this, conference organiser Professor Will Straw joked that he tried to get more people to come speak who actually supported C-10, but couldn’t find any.

Along these lines, the biggest news of the conference came from Québec Justice Minister Jean-Marc Fournier, who suggested that, regardless of the content of C-10, Québec will follow “its own model” of criminal justice. He stressed the need for flexibility, for discretion among judges, and for sentencing that is as rehabilitative as possible. Coming not long after a televised speech by Justice Minister Rob Nicholson, who insisted that the Harper government was “improving and streamlining the criminal justice system”, Fournier attacked C-10 for its “guichet automatique” (ATM) approach to sentencing (similar to Sen. Cowan’s remarks), and concluded that the Québec government will push strongly for amendments to the recently passed legislation.

It will be interesting to see, in the coming months, how a battle between Québec and the federal government over criminal justice will play out. Fournier tried to strike a respectful tone, but a clash is inevitable if the province chooses not to enforce aspects of federal legislation. Fournier also stated that Ottawa must assume the costs of implementing the bill. The Harper government has stated a willingness to cover some, but not all, of this increased burden. Footing the bill will be another source of tension in the near future.

While the bulk of the day focused on discussions around C-10, sentencing, and the justice system, there was also an excellent panel on the future of crime reporting and a fascinating speech by Professor Joanne St. Lewis of the University of Ottawa. The reporting panel featured heavy-weight investigative journalists from Ontario and Québec, and stressed both the challenges of good crime journalism and its importance in a democratic society. Over stories of retaliatory attacks (apparently it’s something of a rite of passage in Québec crime journalism to get shot) and the frustrations of sensationalism, the panellists argued that crime writers “hold a dark mirror to society”, a vital, if troubling, exercise. Professor St. Lewis spoke of a recent shift in societal focus from “justice” to “just us”, of a terrorization of our approach to immigrants and minorities within Canada, and of “functional amnesia” in how we have permitted state intelligence-gathering more and more access to our lives. Echoing some of the comments from yesterday’s panel on policing protests, St. Lewis warned of a potential criminalization of dissent, noting that several of her students were hesitant to visit Occupy Ottawa for fear of repercussion.

Towards the end of the final panel, entitled “The Justice We Need”, I asked the assembled speakers the question that all of the discussions and debates of the last two days seemed to pointing to: What do we do now? If this group of experts, drawn from law enforcement, academia, social activism, the criminal justice system, government, and the media, is almost unanimous (the notable exceptions being Justice Minister Rob Nicholson and the two Chiefs of Police, Duchesneau and McFee) in its conclusion that bill C-10 and C-30 are bad for our country, then what should we do?

Mrs. Sandra DeLaronde, executive director of the Helen Betty Osborne Memorial Foundation, noted that there is still a lot of flexibility in the justice system for those who need it. Echoing this idea, several others suggested that we are likely to see a “devolution” of discretion away from the judges (who must now enforce mandatory minimums) to prosecutors or the police. Charges might be “written down”, or made less severe, to avoid minimums, or suspects may be advised to plead out before they actually get to court. And, as noted above, provinces may simply refuse to enforce the bill, although this may set a troubling precedent.

There is obviously no easy answer. The law is the law, and among the panellists there was a general consensus that ignoring this fact is potentially more dangerous than enforcing policy they disagree with. However, it was heartening to see this many speakers, from so many different spheres within the justice system, speaking so eloquently and passionately on the topic. The conference was excellently curated and organised, and, speaking personally, one of the most enriching experiences I’ve had in law school so far. My hope is that the discussions and arguments of the past few days continue on because they matter a great deal to our future. How we think about crime and what we choose to do about it speak volumes about us as a nation. Are we a country of compassion and openness, or one of retribution and mistrust?

Reading poetry

I was an English student that never quite warmed up to poetry. I loved a good narrative and character too much so I could never quite appreciate the imagery and the rhythm of poetic language. Reading poetry always felt like such a chore, as opposed to reading fiction or even criticism.

But spending almost a year in law school has made me appreciate poetry again. Reading legal writing means I am forced to dig into so many words to find a salient point in legal writing, I am drawn to the more concise nature of slim poetry volumes while trying to relax. I opened Sylvia Plath’s Ariel recently – the last time I read it was when I was 19 – and have been reading a few poems before going to bed. It’s no easy bedside companion, but reading language for the sake of language is a refreshing change from reading language as a means for something else.

I am noticing the stark contrast between wanting to be an invisible, ethereal presence, and the inability to escape the messy, bodily realities (the focus on colour red, and its intrusive and unavoidable qualities) Many people identify the inability to insert her subjectivity as anything but fragmented as a main theme of the collection, which also strangely resonates with thinking about legal subjects and the struggle for intersectionality, rather than static identity categories.

Next on the list: Marianne Moore.

On justification and close-ups.

This week, I was told to think about the “violence of justification” – how we let go of valuing something for itself when we say why it must exist, where the thing is then reduced to a means to an end. It’s an apt thing to think about, especially as a law student, where law school is often experienced as a means to an end, rather than as a thing that can be lived in itself.

And it makes me wonder, why is it so? This is not to say every day of my first year has been filled with epiphany and wonder, but I have certainly not been enduring this like some torture I must get through to the prize of…a big paycheck? I feel almost guilty expressing how much I enjoy what I am learning, and how I even enjoy reading some of the cases (the volume of readings I have to get through is another story) because it’s like reading a tedious Victorian narrative of human failure and tragedy. But if I had to tell you where this is all going or why this is important in the grand scheme of my “life” – where many plans had been scrapped or rerouted completely – I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The notion of justification as violence also reminds me of Deleuze’s theory of close-ups in cinema – where close-ups are these moments of “pure affect” where the face escapes the linearity of plot and the contained nature of the character for just a few seconds. The moment of potential and indescribable feeling, before being resolved into the totality of a narrative.

That pure affect is how I feel about life at the moment – the unresolved, unbridled potentiality, before having to “choose” – justify – my life choice of going to law school. I don’t have to tell everyone why I’m here and where I’ll be going – just yet.

[the clip above is from a 1928 silent film "The Passion of Joan of Arc," possibly the best film for multiple close-ups, as well as a useful experiment in experiencing narrative and temporality]

On student activism, rights, and having a voice


I took this photo at the newly renamed Community Square (or James Square) at McGill today, where about a 1000 (!) students gathered to voice their opinions, share their frustrations and deep disappointments at what took place on Nov. 10. For non-Quebeckers, a recap: there was a city-wide protest from students at all 4 universities in Montreal that day. 14 students decided to peacefully occupy James Administration building to voice their concerns. Their protests were countered by riot police, who responded with physical assault, pepper spray, and tear gas. 

The students and faculty members came together to strategize about how to heal, how to respond, and most importantly, to keep exercising the rights – of free speech, of freedom of expression – in times where such things seem to be losing their ground. It was inspiring to see such a big turnout, such mobilizing powers and such articulation from my university.

Of course, there are mixed reactions. Some people see this as nothing more than a bunch of whiny university students complaining about things when we have it so good in a place like McGill/Montreal/Canada. This re-framing of student protests is what concerns me about how society sees activism these days as nothing more than a frivolity or an overreaction, and I am not alone in the concern, as one distinguished McGill alumnus (now a professor of political theory at University of Maryland) discusses the history of university protests, and building occupation (as well as teach-ins ans sit-ins) as “well established forms of student protests.”

I feel concerned that somehow, voicing concern about having one’s rights (to demand a place in the negotiating table) eroded is now being framed as entitlement, rather than the right course of action. I feel concerned that because our conditions are better than other places, students/citizens are supposed to just “take it” and be complacent with what we’ve got. Such conception of society deprives an aspirational ideal that democratic societies are founded upon, where we should always be striving for more justice, rather than “make do” with the status quo.

Yes, it’s true that Quebec has some of the lowest tuition in North America, and that Canada as a whole is a pretty good place to live, and that McGill in general is more peaceful than other places. But people fought hard for those “good” conditions – they didn’t come out of a vacuum. It’s so hard to gain equality but so easy to lose it, little by little – and I see this is exactly what the Charest government and the administration is trying to do. I am glad to see that McGill students and faculty members are resisting that imposition, in trying to make the university what it’s supposed to be – a place where ideas can be exchanged and democratic ideals can be held to their highest esteem.

On student life and university as a workplace

Oh hi, remember when I used to have a blog? Or read the news everyday? It’s amazing how a month into school has changed that so dramatically. I used to have so much to say, but I found myself sitting in front of my laptop for an hour this evening drawing a blank, unable to come up with a blog post topic. Which is not to say I’m not enjoying school, but the myopia of being a full-time student isn’t very enjoyable. I find myself interested and engaged in what I’m learning but I also find myself making excuses about going to cool talks, or supporting causes I’m passionate about, all under the umbrella excuse of “I’m tired; I was at school all day.” These excuses are technically true, but it just makes me feel so one-dimensional and robotic to let go of the other parts of my personality for the sake of…what, exactly? Do I suspend my civic engagement for the promise of a greater engagement later, but what if that “later” never comes? These are just some of the issues I’m trying to work out these days in the brief two minutes I have before I close the awkwardly-sized course packs and head to bed.

But here is one issue I’d like to discuss, because it’s been an issue happening close to me. The McGill University Non-Academic Certified Association (MUNACA) has been on strike since September 1. The main issue MUNACA members demanded was the right to negotiate (or the fact that the administration had the unilateral right to change or take away pension or benefits after the members paid into it every year). Clearly, the administration is unwilling to do so because it is now week 6 of the strike. Not much negotiation has happened in the meantime – McGill did file an injunction to get the peaceful protesters off the university grounds, which only increased tension. The way that the administration came down on the strike has been disappointing to say the least – the unwillingness to negotiate, the constant finger-pointing and hand-wringing, as well as the rather forceful attempt to silence any discussion or disobedience has been disturbing to watch as a student. Here are Provost Masi and Vice-Principal Michael Di Grappa in an altercation with student solidarity protesters:

I understand these are tough economic times, when all that  governments seem to do is cut budget. Yes, something’s got to give; but whose “something” always ends up giving and who gets to keep their larger-than-fair share? Why is it that students can only receive updates from the administration in their email inboxes but that they need to go to an external website to read the MUNACA perspective (which silences MUNACA’s position further)? Why is the administration threatening professors who are respecting picket lines by choosing to teach off-campus? I am not saying that this is a black and white issue with a clear right and wrong, but the administration sure isn’t making it easy.

And for that, I feel pretty disappointed in my university.

Tuition protests in South Korea

This is an incredible demonstration of activism; Korean citizens have been protesting the high tuition rates with a series of candlelight vigils for 8 days now. University tuition in Korea is comparable to that of a private American university. This comparison chart from Hankyoreh lists the highest tuition rate (from Myung-Ji University) as approximately 9,640,000 Korean won, which is about $9,640. Financial aid and student loan programs are not very widespread in Korea (parents are expected to contribute to their children’s education).

Because  minimum wage in Korea is only 4,320 won (about $3.50-$4 Canadian), students working part-time can hardly make a dent in their student debt. An English opinion piece from Joongang Daily, editorial writer Park Jong-Kwon reported that due to the lack of financial aid programs Korean students ended up paying more tuition fees upfront than those attending Ivy League schools in the United States:

“One-year tuition at Yale last year was $38,300, and 57 percent of the students there received an average of $35,400 in need-based grants. Their effective tuition payment was $2,900. …the average tuition in 2009 of 15 universities in Seoul, including Seoul National University, Korea University and Yonsei University, was 7.86 million won ($7,320). Each grant winner received an average of 1.67 million won. Therefore, real tuition for the grant winner was 6.19 million won. [$5,900 or $6,000 approx]“

There has been relatively few clashes with the police, but on June 5, Yeonhap News reported that the police banned future public assemblies.

[Photo from OhMyNews, a citizen journalism site - you can see more protest photos here.]

Links Roundup: Asian heritage month, feminist events, and more

As some of you may know, May is Asian Heritage Month – and boy, does Montreal have a good lineup of events to celebrate Asian heritage. I spent the weekend attending Accès Asie festival events – including the opening reception and the ‘Flavours of India’ workshop where I learned how to make chai tea. You can read my preview piece for Schema here – and reviews of the events I mentioned will be up on the site shortly.

I also had the pleasure of attending the Montreal book launch of Jessica Yee’s book Feminism for Real, where proceeds went to the Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal (sidenote: the “Harper government” managed to cut their funding, so they are in need of donations). The book is a powerful read and a provocative challenge on mainstream feminism today, and I recommend it to anyone who thinks of him/herself as an activist.

The McGill Graduate Group for Feminist Scholarship, a group I led during my time at McGill, is hosting its annual graduate symposium “(Dis)embodied Feminisms” this weekend at Thomson House. This year’s keynote speaker is the lovely Amber Hawk Swanson, performance artist extraordinaire. I’m also chairing a panel called “Bodies in Motion” on Saturday afternoon – I encourage you to come by if you’re in the mood for thoughtful and feminist cultural discussion.

This fashion column by Toronto’s Sarah Nicole Prickett examines fashion’s continued exoticization of non-Western cultures.

Ken Jeong, the funniest doctor I know of today (he plays Ben Chang on the NBC hit show Community), wrote this touching dedication to his cancer-survivor wife, Tran.

Last but not least, my friends have decided to become urban farmers and grow some organic vegetables this summer. You can follow their adventures here.

FFB Post 5: What I’ve learned

bell hooks

In early 2011, I found myself with two seemingly incompatible internet browser tabs: one of The Sartorialist, and the other, “Postmodern Blackness” by bell hooks. This was a pretty accurate portrait of my conflicting desire to click through hundreds of outfit photos on internet style blogs (and my penchant for clothes) and read feminist texts. I guess other people were too, because soon after, I found Feminist Fashion Bloggers. It has been wonderful to discuss our corporeal realities of stepping outside into the world full of contradictory messages about dress that both empower and undermine women, and of course, learning about so many cool feminist/fashion icons from all over the world. Participating in the Feminist Fashion Bloggers challenges taught me the value of praxis – how theory is embodied or realized. It gave me hope that fashion blogging as a form can be just more than consumerism.

But during my exploration of feminism and fashion, I’ve also learned that it’s pretty darn hard to practice what you preach. For example, I just learned that Target, known for their anti-gay activities in the past, is still doing some questionable homophobic activities by suing a gay marriage activist group to stay off Target grounds. And yet, none of the fashion blogs I read has mentioned this. And I know that a popular item that is “going around” the fashion blogosphere is the Tucker for Target dress (featured in Academichic and What Would a Nerd Wear, among others). What disappoints me about this is that the two blogs I mentioned parenthetically are written by socially active academics, and Academichic bloggers identify explicitly as LGBTQ activists and allies of LGBTQ rights. Before I found out about Target’s donation practices, I once wished that Target stores would open up in Canada (expressed in a recent Q&A I did over here), so I’m not exactly an innocent party, either.

What to make of this disconnect? While I am disappointed the lack of commentary from the academic fashion blogging community, I also don’t want to condemn them too harshly – because in a capitalist framework, having a choice (to say no to unethically produced goods) always comes with privilege. The ability to be a more politically and socially conscious person must come with the material means to pay extra dollars for organic, fair-trade goods, and I know that it’s impossible to be 100% ethical in our purchases. I despise this reality, but I think it’s important to acknowledge it. The unfortunate correlation between choice and privilege is also why I don’t like it when people get overly self-righteous about how everyone should live and say things like: “everyone can buy fair-trade things if they try.” No, they can’t. Some people struggle to put decent food and clean clothes on them and their families, let alone have time to think about where they came from.

Feminist Fashion Icons collage by Franca

This difficulty is just another part of praxis – that we are not disembodied, abstract beings only existing in language (although being on the internet sometimes feels that way), but human beings with bills to pay, and a less-than-enough shopping budget. These imperfections are a part of a feminist reality, and I don’t want to ignore them. So I would like to start talking about these limitations honestly, and think about ways to create not only responsible consumers, but also responsible manufacturers (without needing privileged access). I have no answers on how this can actually be done, but I think I can at least urge style bloggers to become more aware of corporations’ practices outside of the shopping area. Because some of us style bloggers are big enough to actually influence the consumer market out there, and because it’s about time that we feminists started thinking about empowerment in more ways than just averting the male gaze, or becoming one enlightened human being at the expense of others.

[image of bell hooks from Wikipedia; Feminist Fashion Icons collage from Oranges and Apples]

On discussing work on the internet

Bianca Baggiarini, a TA in the sociology department at York University, has received some attention in the media lately, for the negative comments about her students’ essays on her Facebook profile. The Excalibur, York University’s student paper, reports she wrote the following as her status on Feb. 22: “My student’s papers are making me dumber, so very stupid; by the minute. Please, make them, stop. They are infecting me with there huge and apparent stupidity, and I fear they will start to effect in my opinion the way I myself right papers [sic].” Of course, there have been many cases of job losses, or problems at work, that arose due to Facebook and Twitter rants.

As a former grad student, I have seen status updates like the one above happen on my own news feeds. And you know, life as a grad student can be pretty stressful – what with taking courses, thinking about your own research on top of the thick stacks of grading that needs to be done fairly quickly. With that and all the other uncategorized stress, I understand the need to let off steam, or seek commiseration from other TAs.

On the other hand, I think it’s hard to remember that we – the collective grad student “we” – were once those scared and clueless undergrads ourselves. I certainly was, and not all grades I received were glorious or full of praise. One TA even told me during her office hours (when I had received a 60% in an essay) that maybe I didn’t have what it takes to be an English major. I remember how those words affected me and how hurt I felt. Who knows what she may have said about her students on Facebook, and who knows how it would’ve affected me if I had discovered it?

I would hate to see Baggiarini become a scapegoat for something that others have done before her (this Toronto Star article contains interviews with other York grad students expressing similar sentiments). But the incident does serve as a good reminder of how Facebook is not a private, closed domain.

So what’s your policy on Facebook/Twitter/social media and work?

[image from The Joy of Tech]

Women In Art: Kait Pinder on starting an online literary review

[originally posted on Kickaction.ca]

Kait Pinder is a second-year doctoral student in English Literature at McGill University, specializing in Canadian literature. When everyone else was taking a break from work and school duties over the holidays, she launched the first issue of The Bull Calf Review, an online literary review focusing on Canadian literature. Pinder is the co-editor of the journal, along with another doctoral student Jeff Weingarten. I spoke to her about the process of launching an online literary journal, as well as the overall vision for its future.

[Photo by Christina Stanoulis]

Where did the inspirations for The Bull Calf Review come from?

I’ve always wanted to do a project like this, so it’s hard to pinpoint a moment when the idea first surfaced. That being said, I think that I acted on the impulse to start the review because, with Jeff’s help and encouragement and the popularity of online journals and blogs at the moment, I finally felt the confidence to do it. I suppose that confidence also comes from deciding to develop a review that is in my particular area of study – Canadian literature.

What’s the vision for the review? How does it stand out from other reviews out there?

We talked a lot about the ways in which we wanted this review to be different from others as we were developing it. The most important thing was for the review to be clearly academic in nature. We want to publish reviews that are of the same calibre that our readers would find in big Canadian academic journals, like Canadian Literature. Taking that into consideration though, we also wanted to offer some new features that we think on the one hand will help our reviewers and, on the other hand, will be innovative and interesting for our readers.

First, I really wanted to offer a section for retrospective reviews so that we could begin conversations about older books that have fallen out of the canon and people may not know about, or have received their own canonical interpretations that our reviewers might begin to question in some way. Jeff had the excellent idea to build a section of dissertation abstracts, where newly defended scholars can share the work that they have done with a wide audience. I think The BCR is a pretty good mix of the old school qualities of an academic review and the new possibilities of an online medium.

Why the name “The Bull Calf”?

That was Jeff’s idea, and I have to say it is a pretty good one. The Bull Calf is the title of one of our favourite poems by Irving Layton. You can find the first lines on our website:

The thing could barely stand. Yet taken
from his mother and the barn smells
he still impressed with his pride,
with the promise of sovereignity in the way
his head moved to take us in.
The fierce sunlight tugging the maize from the ground
licked at his shapely flanks.
He was too young for all that pride.

There is something about the image of the calf barely able to stand that seemed particularly relevant to an online review started by a couple of graduate students. Of course, at the end of the poem the calf is killed, to the horror of the speaker of the poem. We’re hoping for a happier ending, but those first few lines really give the sense of the vulnerable beginnings of the review. The fact that it was written by Layton also seemed apt, since we are interested in Canadian literature and both Jeff and I study Canadian modernism specifically.

What were some of the difficulties in getting the first issue out? Were there problems you didn’t foresee?

I was actually surprised at how few problems there were. We ran into some snags with the website as we started to load things onto it, but that is a pretty common occurrence with websites, at least when I’m dealing with them. We were very grateful that so many publishers gave us review copies and that we could convince so many fantastic reviewers to write for our first issue. In all honesty, it was a very fun process. I think we might face a new challenge with our second issue in that we have to make sure it’s as strong as the first.

When does your next issue come out, and where can people submit their writing? What kind of writing are you looking for?

The next issue comes out on May 1, 2011. Potential reviewers should follow the guidelines on our about us page. We are looking for reviews that are scholarly in tone and that place books in the context of the Canadian literary history in which they are written.

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