MARTLET THE
FEATURE
'Theoilandgasindustryfeltlikea toxicexIcouldn'tstayawayfrom' PG. 6-7
SPORTS
IsVictoriabecomingacoastalcity youcan'tswimin? PG. 9
Recent conflict between India and Pakistan causing 'stress and uncertainty' for international students
RAAMIN HAMID SENIOR STAFF WRITER
The recent escalation in tensions between India and Pakistan is causing significant stress and uncertainty for international students at UVic.
On April 22, 26 tourists were killed in the town of Pahalgam by terrorists within the boundaries of Indian-administered Kashmir.
This led to India launching Operation Sindoor carrying out airstrikes against nine locations in the state of Pakistan, as well as within Pakistan-administered Kashmir.
Shortly after, Pakistan retaliated, raising concerns about a potential war between the two nations.
“There have been wars over numerous decades over this area,” said Dr. Neilesh Bose, a history professor at UVic and a historian of modern South Asia. However, Bose said in an interview with the Martlet, an extensive war between India and Pakistan is “highly unlikely.”
“These tensions … can create a lot of emotional stress and a lot of uncertainty for international students at UVic [who] are from these countries,” said Abhee Senthilkumaran, UVSS Director of International Student Relations.
Senthilkumaran said in an interview with the Martlet that many international students feel helpless, because they are away from home and feel that they cannot do anything.
An international student at UVic, originally from Chandigarh, India, mentioned that the conflict has made it difficult to maintain normalcy.
“Even though we were not very close to the border, there were multiple nights wherein there was a blackout across [Chandigarh] due to imminent threats posed by the Pakistani drones being sent across the border,” said the international student.
“Witnessing conflict from this far is a nervewracking experience I never thought I would experience.”
While news about the conflict has circulated in the past weeks, Bose said that disputes between India and Pakistan are quick to catch international attention but are also quick to be forgotten.
Despite recent news coverage, some feel there is still a lack of awareness.
Senthilkumaran said she found out about the conflict through social media. “If I hadn’t seen the two people post about it, I wouldn't have known about it as much,” she said.
When most of the information about the conflict being consumed by the public is on social media, some find it harder to know and to trust what is actually happening.
“Very little of it seems like news, a lot of it seems like propaganda,” said Taha Qureshi, coordinator for the Students of Colour Collective (SOCC) at UVic.
For individuals who have ties to the region, a situation like this is not out of the ordinary.
Since the partition in 1947, Kashmiris have been fighting for sovereignty, and have often found themselves at the centre of tensions between India and Pakistan, as both countries seek to control over the region and its inhabitants.
"people cannot be shielded from what is happening in their home countries"
Since 1947, military presence has only increased in Kashmir. It is now one of the most militarized zones in the world.
In the decades-long fight between India and Pakistan over Kashmir, many Kashmiris have begun to resent the two states that have occupied them since 1947.
“The people of Kashmir … have never been able to enjoy any kind of sovereignty,” said Bose.
Many Indian and Pakistani students are members of UVic’s international student community, yet one international student told the Martlet they were troubled that UVic had yet to release a public statement.
In an emailed statement to the Martlet, a UVic spokesperson said that “escalating conflict and humanitarian crises can weigh heavily on our campus community” and stated that it “has a responsibility to care for all members of our community — including those on both sides of this conflict.”
Bose said that people cannot be shielded from what is happening in their home countries, and from what is being circulated online.
“[The conflict] may either create or exacerbate any distinctions of conflicts between Indian origin and Pakistani origin people, where there is so much rumour and hearsay,” said Bose. “There is a heightened sense of the other as instigator, and this informs and affects how people see each other.”
UVic said that its priority is to foster a welcoming space at UVic where everyone has a sense of belonging, as articulated by its Equity Action Plan.
Some, meanwhile, fear that these events will exacerbate existing worries for international students. They often do not have the same experience on campus as
domestic students, Qureshi told the Martlet, citing higher tuition fees and a lack of supportive resources. The escalation of conflict between India and Pakistan, for many, is contributing to this even further.
“It’s hard to talk to your parents or loved ones who are telling you they have to evacuate and move, and can see things in the sky that aren’t stars or the sun or the moon, only to have to put your phone down and go to class or work,” said Qureshi. “A lot of us are in privileged positions simply because we are so far away, but we obviously remain worried for the safety of our loved ones.”
UVic stated they have a number of resources available for students, including the Equity & Human Rights (EQHR) office and the International Centre for Students. Qureshi also told the Martlet that for those who may need emotional support, SOCC is available to support students and provide a sense of community, while Bose emphasized the importance of remembering the victims of the conflict.
“We should think about the people of Kashmir … and the people who were killed by the terrorists,” said Bose. “Both should be the most important part of any discussion about this.”
Photo via @soccollective on Instagram.
UVIC LIFE
How have academic standards changed over the years? Students and faculty say that academic standards have remained static, but external pressures are increasing
ELIAS RICE VOLUNTEER STAFF EDITOR
Any university student can tell you about the laundry list of stresses and pressures they face over the course of their studies. Combined with the pressure to do well academically, many students face stress from sources like the high cost of living, learning to live alone, and navigating interpersonal relationships, among others.
With the reality of student life changing and evolving over time, some students and faculty feel that academic standards should change as well, to better accommodate the present realities of student life. The Martlet spoke to current and former students to learn how academic standards at the University of Victoria (UVic) have changed over the years.
Compared to the standards employed by UVic over 40 years ago, the standards that current students are judged by do not seem to have changed much. Daniel Limawen attended UVic in 1984 to complete a BSc in psychology. Limawen spoke to the Martlet about his experiences at UVic in the 1980s, which showed similar grading standards to those students face today.
Limawen said he was mostly graded on exams and papers, and recalls that his final exams would have been worth around 50 and 60 per cent of his final grade. He describes the courses he took as “not for the faint of heart.”
Charlie Squires and his parents, Trevor and Helen, provide a diverse array of educational experience to draw from. Helen learned within a more flexible environment, studying music, dance, and drama at Middlesex University in London, United
Kingdom. Helen comes from an academic family, with parents who attended, and even taught, in higher education. In Trevor’s family, his mom dropped out of high school, and his brother was the first member of his family to attend university. Trevor struggled in high school, dropped out, and continued on to become an accomplished programmer, as well as a teacher of programming for a short time.
Squires hasn’t felt much pressure from his parents, but he does feel the pressures coming from different departments at UVic. He also recognizes how different the motivations and pressures faced by his peers are. He told the Martlet that some of his peers were pursuing
their majors out of interest, while some felt pressured to go to university to get a good job, and others were trying to find a balance between fulfilling their parents' expectations and pursuing their own interests.
Dr. Georgia Sitara, a UVic professor of history and gender studies, told the Martlet in a statement that she’s noticed taking easy courses and getting easy grades are a higher priority for students now than it used to be.
Sitara believes her students see her as “tough but fair” in her grading, and said she takes teaching very seriously. She also recognizes that students are stretched thin, and being pushed to their limits by economic pressure. “When I was an
undergraduate in Quebec in the late 1980s, it cost $50 per course. $500 covered a whole year's tuition, whereas now, it covers the cost of one course.” According to UVic, tuition for a course in the humanities, where Sitara teaches, now costs just under $650 per course.
Sitara added that an undergraduate degree is more indispensable now than it’s ever been. “An undergraduate degree is the new high school equivalent,” she said.
Dr. Rebecca Gagan, a UVic professor of English, said in a statement to the Martlet that the standards that students are graded on have not changed within the English department in several years. She added, however, that while
academic standards have remained consistent, the pressures students are facing have increased.
“The majority of students in my classes have part-time jobs, and some even have full-time jobs,” Gagan said, pointing out that due to financial pressures, many students have to choose between prioritizing their studies and prioritizing necessities like rent and food.
Gagan notes that the increase in online classes offered by some departments provides more accessibility, but recognizes that there are many barriers reducing access to university education.
“As university budgets continue to tighten, I worry that we will continue to see more and more students who are simply not able to access university education,” she said. To combat the pressures her students face, Gagan said she strives to make her students feel visible and less alone in the face of their challenges. In her view, her students are “humans first and students second.”
Although the academic standards faced by students don’t seem to have changed much over the years, the other realities of student life students are forced to contend with certainly have.
“I don’t think we can underestimate the very real weight of simply being a student in this historical moment,” Gagan said. “I have such admiration and respect for today’s students. They are advocates for themselves and others, bravely navigating not only the challenges of an often difficult and ever-changing academic landscape, but also a frequently brutal and distressing global context.”
Three campus resources to help students deal with stress A guide to on-campus Mental Health Awareness Month
NICOLAS IHMELS VOLUNTEER STAFF WRITER
University can be a stressful time for many — even during the summer semester, when many students are taking a break from classes. May is Mental Health Awareness Month in Canada, so the Martlet compiled some great resources on campus that are there to help you.
SUPPORT CONNECT
Support Connect is a great mental health service that can connect you with a small army of qualified counsellors, consultants, and life coaches who are available for both in-person and virtual appointments whenever you need them. Whether you are trying to recover from an anxiety attack or you’re just feeling stressed out by schoolwork, these professionals are here to assist you. If you ever need their help, you can call toll free at 1-844-773-1427 or international collect calls at 1-250999-7621 for immediate assistance.
TELUS HEALTH STUDENT SUPPORT APP
Another great way to get connected with mental health professionals is through the free Student Support App. This is a quick and easy way to get advice and help fast. Just search TELUS Health Student Support on
either the Apple App Store or Google Play Store. Once you get the app, you can start a live chat or call with a counsellor anytime, anywhere! These professionals will work with you to find solutions to different problems your brain may be trying to solve,
including relationships, school, culture shock, cultural issues, family and friends, and loneliness. You can get service in the language of your choice. These advisors have extensive knowledge about living abroad. Student Support advisors also have experience
with living abroad. They also have experience dealing with all types of stress and anxiety students may face in their everyday lives and will work with you in confronting them.
STUDENT WELLNESS CENTRE COUNSELING
Did you know that as a UVic student, you have access to a team of health professionals that are there to help you with your mental needs? Well, look no further, because the Student Wellness Centre’s counseling team is here to help. From depression to relationship advice, these resources are a huge help for students that are too busy to make an appointment, but still need access to support for themselves or those in need of professional help.
Additionally, The SWC offers special counseling appointments for Indigenous and law students, as well as a range of group workshops tailored to transgender, non-binary, and gender non-conforming students. If the outdoors are more your style, there are also nature-based groups designed around integrating Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) and mindfulness.
They also offer spiritual health and wellness resources through the Multifaith Centre, including spiritual counselling sessions, meditation classes, yoga, and much more.
Illustration by Sage Blackwell.
Illustration by Sona Eidnani.
Ditch dating apps, dance instead An argument for why dancing is better for you than swiping
KEILA BROCK SENIOR STAFF EDITOR
This year, I made a New Year's resolution that, so far, has stuck: I went off dating apps. Not dating altogether, just the apps. I wanted to meet people “organically,” but I was (and still am) fine with the possibility of a year of romance-drought.
After revisiting a tradition from my childhood (Contra dancing), I realized that social dancing has great potential for cultivating both flirtation and community. Whether you want to meet potential partners offline, or you have foregone romance altogether and are looking for activities to do with friends, I propose dancing.
My rationale? Dating apps are fine, but old-timey dancing is always more fun.
Romance, or lack thereof, is a common conversation topic in my circles. After telling a friend about my latest Hinge date, she said, “What is it with lesbians and going for coffee on dates? Going for coffee is the lesbian equivalent of wining and dining.” She has a point. Most dates I have been on were activities you’d do with a friend anyway, where you have to do conversational legwork to go from platonic to romantic. When you’re dancing, the activity does it for you.
Plus, I don’t want to text for days — or weeks — as often happens on dating apps, and risk getting attached to the idea of a person, rather than getting to know the person themself. When you’re dancing with a stranger, there’s less overthinking, less imagining, and more being in the moment.
Social dancing can easily be flirty —
and historically, it has been. It’s like square dancing, but in a long line, so if someone messes up, it’s no big deal. You can quickly point someone where they need to go, and there’s no complex footwork. It’s customary to switch partners between dances, and many people come solo, but have no problem finding a partner.
Contra dates back to the 17th century, and is a blend of European country dances. From the balls depicted in Jane Austen’s works to rural Canada in the 1940s, social dances have been a way for young people to meet, socialize, and court. Though dancing is largely absent from young people’s culture today, I’ve noticed a yearning for the Bridgerton-
esque idea of social dancing. Why not make it real?
However, social dancing doesn’t have to be flirty; I grew up contra dancing. My friends will attest — I’ve spent a lot of this year trying to drag them out to dance. Not to the club, mind you, but usually to some church hall rented out by a group of volunteers.
Let me set the scene. When you arrive, people are still setting up the chairs around the dance floor. The sound check is in progress, and the fiddle band is warming up. Maybe the “all-gender washroom” signs haven’t been put up yet. The lights are generally bright — bright enough to see the faces of the crowd, made up of people of all different ages.
When I was a kid, contra dancers were mostly middle-aged and grey-haired folks. The caller, who teaches the dances and cues the moves to the music, used to say “ladies” and “gentlemen,” even though women danced the “man’s” part all the time. Now, most of the time, it’s “larks” for left and “robins” for right.
This takes some adjustment for older dancers and callers, who have been doing this a long time, and have grown accustomed to “ladies and gents.” The change is worth it for me, though, as a nonbinary person.
These days, Victoria Contra Dance attracts UVic students and queer people, and puts on events catered to Victoria’s 2SLGBTQIA+ population. I’ve loved
watching the reappropriation of what used to be a binary and heteronormative setting, and seeing it open up to new audiences.
Victoria’s dance community has been a “third space” for me — a location that isn’t home or work, where I can meet people and socialize — that reminds me of the small town where I grew up, because dancing is intergenerational in Victoria, too. Dancing in Victoria, for me, does exactly what third spaces are meant to do: it affirms my own identity, and builds empathy for people with different identities from my own.
In our pandemic-altered world, when we’ve all been through lockdowns, and the World Health Organization (WHO) is looking into loneliness as a worldwide health threat, community is something people of all ages desperately need. Dancing can help with this, too. Not only do our brains produce endorphins while dancing, as with any exercise, but group dancing breaks the touch barrier, which makes our brains produce oxytocin, the bonding hormone.
If you crave organic connections, if you like live music, if you want exercise and community all wrapped into one, or if you just want something to do on the weekend, I highly recommend dancing with a stranger — or rather, a soon-to-be friend, and maybe even more. Westcoast Barn Dances, Victoria Contra Dance, and Red Hot Swing are all fantastic dance organizers you can check out. Rather than doing legwork to get from platonic to romantic, dance and let your legwork be literal this summer.
The United Conservative Party continues to pander to separatists, but Albertans don't have to
If you're an Albertan student at UVic, like me, you can't afford to ignore what's going on back home
NICK
CZERWONKA SENIOR STAFF WRITER
I’ve lost count of how many times I have told someone here at UVic that I’m from Alberta, and they’ve responded with “Oh, I’m sorry.” It happens a lot, and sometimes it really strikes a nerve with me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m under no illusions about the reputation that Albertan conservatism has earned us in liberal communities like Victoria, but I still love my home.
Regardless of stereotypes, I am proud to be from Alberta, and I will always maintain that it was a wonderful place to grow up. I was surrounded by warm, lovely people who exposed me to many different social and cultural worlds, and it is an instrumental part of who I am as a person.
Unfortunately, I can only sing its praises for so long without addressing the political elephant in the room (which will inevitably be tied to all conversation about my home province for the considerable future); the rising Alberta separatist movement.
Personally, I have a difficult time believing that this movement will gain enough steam to do anything more than make noise. I could be wrong, though, and perhaps I live in a bubble; I am a fairly liberal person, who encounters few overtly conservative people in my dayto-day life, and I now live in one of the most left-leaning cities in Canada.
Regardless of whether or not the separatists are all bark or bite, though, they are certainly succeeding at one thing: they have convinced the provincial government to take them seriously, and are working to normalize the idea of secession as a viable path to economic success. Separatist arguments have arisen
in response to restrictions placed on Alberta’s energy sector and the redistribution of Alberta’s Gross Domestic Product across Canada by the federal government’s “equalization payments”.
The possibility of separation has been raised despite economists’ arguments that secession would cause significant damage to the Albertan economy.
The separatist movement has also completely disregarded the fact that Alberta was founded on, and currently exists on, First Nations treaty land — land that does not belong to the provincial government
Premier Danielle Smith, leader of the United Conservative Party (UCP), may say that she does not support Alberta seceding from Canada, but those words carry little weight when she has proven on several occasions her willingness to pander to any
crowd in order to maintain her own political position.
Amidst of the collapse of Canadian-U.S. relations, stemming from President Donald Trump’s repeated threats of annexation, Smith travelled to Florida to speak at a PragerU conference. PragerU is an advocacy group for the extreme right, with a history of comparing climate change activists to Nazis and campaigning against access to gender-affirming care for transgender people.
Smith also travelled to the United States to speak with Trump about tariffs; in an interview with far-right news conglomerate Breitbart, her fear was that tariffs garnered greater support for the Liberal Party — not the potential economic devastation they might cause across Canada.
Even when dealing with an issue as
Graphic by Sage Blackwell.
serious as threats to Canadian sovereignty, Smith was willing to ingratiate herself with the far-right while waiting to see which way the wind was blowing. Right now, she is doing the same thing with the issue of Albertan separatism. She is afraid that, if the UCP does not indulge separatists, there could be factionalism within the party, which would risk conservative hegemony in Alberta — and, by consequence, her position as Premier.
To be clear, I am not equating the Alberta separatist movement with the dangerous politics of the MAGA movement. I am merely underlining a pattern of behavior from the Premier which proves to me that, when presented with an issue that challenges Canadian and Albertan unity, protecting and expanding her own political power will
be her first priority.
So, what is the solution for Albertans who have little confidence that their representatives truly have their interests at heart? For many, political apathy seems an easy out. Alberta’s 2023 provincial general election saw a 60 per cent voter turnout, and only a 49 per cent turnout from voters ages 18–24. While statistics are not yet available for our recent federal election, less than 50 per cent of eligible Canadians ages 18–24 cast a ballot in the prior federal election. That is a startling amount of inaction from our youngest generation of voters.
For Albertans here at UVic living away from home, it is easy to feel removed from the moment-to-moment developments and consequences of our provincial government’s steady drift away from Canadian identity, and its growing lack of interest in cooperating with the rest of the nation. It is easy to forget that we still possess the means and the responsibility to make our voices heard.
So, to my fellow Albertans: do not close your eyes and wait for something to happen. Have that uncomfortable conversation with your folks back home. Write to your MLA, participate in public debate, and above all else make sure you request a Special Ballot — when the referendum is inevitably put forth — which will allow you to vote while being a student in B.C.
If voter turnout remains low, and Danielle Smith continues to use unity crises as an opportunity to power-seek, in the event of a referendum, the last thing we should be saying is that we didn’t see it coming.
Illustration by Sona Eidnani.
ETHAN BARKLEY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
In Canada’s federal election on April 28, Liberal candidate Dr. Will Greaves secured the Parliament seat for Victoria — earning 54.3 per cent of the vote and unseating NDP incumbent Laurel Collins.
His victory marks the first time in almost two decades that a Liberal has won the riding, which has been held by the NDP since 2006.
Collins came in second with 24.9 per cent of the vote, followed by Conservative Angus Ross with 17 per cent and Green candidate Michael Doherty with 3.1 per cent.
Normally, Greaves works as an associate professor of international relations in the Department of Political Science at UVic. His research focuses on global politics and international security, with a particular focus on Canadian foreign policy, climate change, and the Arctic and North Atlantic regions.
“I've done lots of different work pertaining to those areas, but they are certainly relevant to some of the big policy challenges and … the major forks in the road that the country has to make at this point in time,” he said, specifically mentioning decisions around Canada’s defence and security relationships with the United States.
Now that Greaves has won the seat, he will be heading to Ottawa — but that doesn’t mean giving up his position at UVic. As per the faculty agreement with UVic, faculty members can take a
“political leave,” permitting them to campaign and serve in either the federal or B.C. parliaments.
“That was part of the consideration that gave me the confidence to stand, and to know that I wasn't gambling on my career or my academic work,”
Greaves told the Martlet Greaves said he first became interested in running for office in mid2024.
“I was really dissatisfied with what felt like the trajectory that the country was on, and what seemed at that point
to be the more or less inevitable outcome of this election,” he said.
“I wanted to give voters in Victoria an opportunity to cast a ballot for a progressive MP who also could be a part of a progressive government in Ottawa.”
Greaves said that Canada is facing a number of issues at different scales, and emphasized the need for the government to “hit the ground running” and address these issues simultaneously once Parliament is reconvened.
He said that issues such as housing affordability and availability, addictions
and mental health concerns, climate change, and the threat posed by tariffs to sectors of Vancouver Island’s economy are high priorities for him.
“We heard loud and clear during the campaign how focused many people in Victoria are on some of our local challenges [like these].”
Greaves told the Martlet that working with students as a professor, and having a number of students volunteer in his campaign, brought awareness to the kinds of issues that are priorities for
“Housing and affordability are certainly top of mind for a lot of young people…. There's a widespread concern, I think, about young people being shut out of the housing market indefinitely.”
He also said that the young people he heard from were “really insisting that we not lose sight of questions of climate change” and the human impact on the natural environment.
According to the Liberal Party platform, they intend to get the federal government “back into the business of building houses.” Greaves favours this idea, and said that he believes this would greatly benefit communities on Vancouver Island. He told the Martlet that he would “certainly advocate strongly for Victoria to receive some of that federal investment.”
Greaves said he is “relieved” by the outcome of the election, but is also happy to see a more diverse range of candidates elected on Vancouver Island.
“We've gone from a situation where there were six NDP ridings and one Green riding to a real mix,” he said. Vancouver Island is now split into three Conservative ridings, two Liberal ridings, one NDP riding, and one Green riding.
“We still have a first-past-the-post system … but I think that we actually got a much more representative perspective on how folks on the island feel in this campaign,” he said.
“I think that's something that we might take a moment and celebrate.”
Photo courtesy of Will Greaves.
'The oil and gas industry felt like a toxic I dropped out of school for a semester to work on back, even if I hated it when I was there.
PAIGE PETERS CONTRIBUTING WRITER
The names of certain individuals have been changed to protect their anonymity.
Atext from my sister, Sarah*, came in: “Can you pass a drug test?”
Getting a job in the oil and gas industry was vastly different to any hiring process I’ve experienced before. There was no application form, no cover letter, and no job posting. I emailed Sarah my resume, she forwarded it to her boss in Calgary, and he called me. It was a Friday. The phone call wasn’t even ten minutes. He asked if I was Sarah’s sister, if I could be in Grande Prairie A.S.A.P., and if I had any experience with Microsoft Office. That was it. I was hired. They sent me an email with videos to watch, and forms to fill out.
That Monday, I dropped my university courses, took my drug test, passed it, and packed all my clothes. I flew out early Tuesday morning from Abbotsford to Calgary, and then took a small plane to Grande Prairie, Alberta — my new home for the next three months. It felt like freedom. I moved away from a crazy roommate, and stayed with my sister and her boyfriend for two weeks while I waited for an Airbnb.
My first day on the job was long. I woke up at 4 a.m., and didn’t arrive in Grande Prairie until 11 a.m. Sarah picked me up from the airport, we briefly shared a hug in the snow and cold wind. We made a pit stop to drop off my luggage so it wouldn’t freeze in her vehicle. Then we left for the hour-long drive to Hythe, where the site and office were located. It was -18°C, a temperature I had never experienced before in my life. It never gets that cold in the Lower Mainland, ever. It only got colder within my first two weeks in Alberta, reaching -42°C at points.
As we drove to Hythe, I fought to stay awake while sipping on a Red Bull and eating Wendy’s chicken strips. Sarah ran through some information I needed to know. It was one of the few times I stayed awake the entire drive.
“Patricia is going to train you. I didn’t want her here, but she’s here. Just smile and nod. Do what she tells you, and after she leaves to go back to Dawson Creek, I’ll show you the faster way to do it.”
Patricia was in her forties, and worked in the industry for most of her life. It was all she knew, but that didn’t mean she had worked on a project of this scale before. Patricia was a heavy smoker, and vaped in our trailer constantly. The blue raspberry and cotton candy smell lingered after she left. Her brown hair was always in a low ponytail. Her office attire was sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. Business casual was not in anyone’s vocabulary.
The trailer itself was bigger than it looked. There were two offices on either side, and a long desk across the back wall with three sections built in. I sat at the far right desk. There were mats at the entrance so the floors didn’t get covered in dirt, melted snow, or other grime throughout the week.
In addition to Sarah and I, our trailer housed John’s office. I still don’t know what he did. I just know he was hardly doing his job while in his office. I wore AirPods when he was working to prevent He would start the before videos with his open. His favourite meal was a sort of chicken and rice dish from the Co-op down the road. It smelled so bad when it was heated up, my sister and I would open all the windows and doors, and vacate the trailer, no matter the temperature. Other than the food and an occasional hello, we didn't interact much.
project engineer, which really meant he didn’t have a
real reason to be on the project. My employer had won the bid to be contracted by a larger company, which had their own engineers on the pipeline. We were there to provide welders, labourers, and quality control. I think Dave was only there since he was close with the superintendent, Richard. The only downside to him was that he never looked at his emails, and never did the paperwork side of his job, either. That fell to my sister.
Hythe, Alberta is about an hour drive from Grande Prairie. It can’t be called a town, or even a village. In 2021, the community of about 800 people voted to officially become a hamlet. The change from village to hamlet meant Hythe no longer had a mayor or council. Instead, it was governed by the local county, saving the community from increasing property taxes and other unsustainable costs. I knew none of that until I no longer worked there. I only knew that Hythe was tiny, seemed dead, and truck thefts were exceedingly common; workers would leave their trucks running and unlocked while they ran into the one gas station or Co-op due to the cold.
While we worked in Hythe, we lived in Grande Prairie, a thriving city with a population of almost 70 000. The local economy came from oil and gas, agriculture, and forestry. In the 1950s, oil and natural gas were discovered in the nearby areas. In the late 1970s, a gas field was discovered, causing rapid growth during the oil boom. Another large boom happened in the 1990s, due to an international demand for oil, natural gas, and forest products. Nowadays, the focus is on building pipelines, developing new energy, and natural gas.
Grande Prairie exists in stark contrast to Fort McMurray, one of the most well-known oil towns in Canada due to the 2016 fire. Fort McMurray is located in the middle of the Athabasca oil sands, east of Grande Prairie, and the money comes from mining the oil sands to produce bitumen, also known as crude oil.
The schedule was simple, I was being paid from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., which included the two hours of travel. We had to be onsite from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. My alarms were set for 5 a.m., so I would be ready by 5:30 a.m. I am not a morning person. I would stay up until midnight, only to be awake five hours later. The lack of sleep was something I was used to, but the long hours only drained me more. Sundays were the only day I had off and even then, that wasn’t guaranteed. At one point, we worked 13 days in a row to get caught up on paperwork.
First, we’d turn on the computers. We responded to any vendors and contractors that had sent inquiries, invoices, or estimates, saving the files and printing them to put aside for later. The foremen trickled in typically between 7:10–7:30 a.m. to drop off time sheets and sometimes to update us on the latest gossip, drama, or changes in the project.
The night shift foremen would email in their time sheets: only one knew how to operate excel on his phone, and the other two would send grainy photos. One of the night foremen, Joe, was old. He was in his late sixties or early seventies, and always left notes on his time sheets to make us smile. One note said, “The sun did our jobs for us during the day” with a sketch of a sun with a smiley face. His crew was supposed to be shoveling snow, but thanks to the sun, they had less work that night.
Joe would send Sarah photos of his time sheet. They were so grainy, from dropping it countless times. He in-command demonstrate how to take them through WhatsApp and iMessage. also drop off his time sheets every few we could have the physical copies to
Once we printed off the few that were emailed in, I organized all the time sheets to ensure we weren’t missing any once we printed off the few emailed in. The timesheets were compared to the previous day to check for glaring differences, and then inputted. 400 names dwindled down over the course of three months to 10 by the end, as crews got laid off.
The data had to be double- and triplechecked before it could be sent to payroll, where it was checked again for any errors before they were finally approved, and the company contracting us could be billed. I got to see how much everyone and everything was being billed for. We were charging them $1000 a day just for me, meanwhile I saw just half of that.
The project was costing them over $500 000 a day when I arrived. It cost $430 million total for us to build it. By the end, it was costing maybe $30 000
Invoices and estimates from vendors would be doublechecked and entered.
Fresh time sheets
would be printed, and placed in the foremen’s mundane, routine, even easy once I got the hang hours of work a day, forcing myself to slow down could, double-checking, triple-checking, and rereading longer. I’d have a movie or Formula One race keyboard in case anyone opened the door behind I barely saw the sun. Having to go outside the bathroom was the only bit of sun that I saw. Having lived surrounded by mountains and was completely different. The skies were wide It was almost a culture shock to hear the people barely hills. There were no snow-capped peaks
The sunrises and sunsets were spectacular. most mornings and evenings, we only saw darkness, sun had done its duty for the day.
It’s strange how nature can affect emotions. was used to mountains surrounding me, hiding I saw mountains across the ocean, but also within still there, keeping watch. Here, with no tall guard, tense. I could feel myself being worn Emotions were bubbling just beneath the surface days.
24 hours a day in the same house, office, and me. We had no breaks from each other, she was home. I didn't have a space that was mine. I felt relaxation I hadn’t felt in months once weren’t tense when I walked through the front day; no one who would get upset if I decided the pub-turned-nightclub. I only went out twice; full of people that have known each other their else’s. That was what mattered.
It was a break from the beige walls to see the myself I would read when I got home, but then watch Netflix. I barely read, despite buying a bookstore in town — a Coles at the mall.
After a few weeks, I saw why these men that almost everything about them kept coming back.
The majority of them weren’t from Grande the West and East Coasts. They came to make make anywhere else. One foreman was a single working, to spend his springs and summers collecting son. Another foreman worked winters to pay for tourists boating and scuba diving in the summers. It was like a drug, seeing the paycheques every email on the day pay stubs were sent out and It was an adrenaline rush to see just how much maybe seven hours of actual work in a 12-hour and more.
The oil and gas industry felt like a toxic ex trapped, always coming back for more. It really They had mortgages, trucks, families, drinking Sure, you had to take a drug test to get hired, one again while working at that company unless had to do was stay sober for roughly thirty days you didn’t have to be sober or clean; night shifts crews were willing to do it.
Dave, the project manager, was taking steroids would go through “roid rages”, but since he was be lucky and never experience one. I was wrong. off his shoes, and walked to the printer.
I was on the other side of the trailer, as far away going into the office. Sarah was at the middle grateful for that when he started to slam his fists
“Fucking stupid printer!” He got louder. “Must Sarah and I made eye contact. We both stopped We didn't want to call any attention to ourselves. one with it. He kept slamming his fists into the our company; it was a rental.
The door opened behind me. Chris, the head with a stack of papers in his hand, “Does this selected the wrong printer.”
Dave immediately stopped hitting the printer,
“Ah, that's my bad. Technology, ya know?” He walked across the trailer to Chris, not even he grabbed the papers, I turned back to my computer at least looking like I was. Sarah and I didn’t ignored it and acted like it never happened.
The industry knows what will get your interest. she has you again, every day is a fight, and you
toxic
ex
I couldn't stay away from' on a pipeline in Northern Alberta. I would go
mail boxes so they could grab them. It was hang of it. Soon, I was down to maybe five down everything. I was typing as slow as I rereading everything just to make tasks last race playing on my phone, hidden behind the behind me. the trailer and walk across the empty lot to saw. and forests my whole life, northern Alberta wide open, nothing to block the view for miles. people calling foothills “mountains”. They were peaks until we drove to Dawson Creek. spectacular. The skies danced with colour. Though, darkness, arriving and leaving long after the
emotions. Having grown up in the Fraser Valley, I hiding me, holding me close. Moving to Victoria, within and just outside the city. They were peaks rising to the sky, I felt exposed, on down, exhausted at the end of each day. surface and it was all I could do to not cry some
and vehicle as my sister was starting to affect was my boss at work and my older sibling at once my Airbnb was available. My shoulders front door. I had no one to update on my every I wanted to go out on my one free night to twice; it was too crowded, too cold, and too their whole lives. But it was my choice, no one the dark green walls every night. I always told then would inevitably curl up in my bed to new book every other week at the closest that complained about their jobs and hated back. Grande Prairie, or even Alberta. They came from make money, the kind of money they wouldn’t single dad who spent his falls and winters collecting EI so he could spend time with his for his company on Vancouver Island: taking summers. every two weeks. I obsessively checked my the money was deposited into my account. much I was making in a warm office,doing 12-hour day. It was addicting, drawing me in more
ex I couldn't stay away from. It keeps you really had all those boys and men trapped too. drinking problems, and drug addictions to fund. hired, but if you passed, you didn’t have to take unless you caused too much trouble. All you and you were golden, even then, sometimes shifts always needed workers, and not a lot of
steroids — a drug that wasn’t tested for. He was in a different trailer, I thought I would wrong. He came into the trailer one day, slipped
away as I could be from the printer without desk, a body between Dave and me. I was fists into the printer, over and over.
“Must be broken. Why aren’t you working!” stopped typing and made no sudden movements. ourselves. I curled into my chair, trying to become the printer, one that wasn’t even owned by head Quality Control guy, popped his head in this belong to any of you? I think someone printer, turned towards us, and let out a laugh, even sparing a glance in our direction. Once computer to continue entering more data, or didn’t talk about what had just happened. We interest. She’ll keep coming after you. When you remember why you left her in the first
place. Once you decide you’re done again, you swear this is it and you won’t go back. You tell everyone you’re done, but then that late night text comes. You up? And you go crawling back, unable to resist the temptation of just one more night. I would go back, even if I hated it when I was there.
Money can be a great motivator. I was willing to drop everything and move somewhere I’d never been just for the chance to earn some. I needed it. The chance to earn almost double an hour was enticing, no matter who my coworkers were. I might even tolerate John for a month, just for another large paycheque. I would do just enough hours to qualify for EI again, two or three months of guaranteed money was just a quick questionnaire away. It was worth it.
As crews, then people on site started to get laid off, Sarah and I lost our mutually disliked coworkers. I was so relieved when John was finally gone. There was peace for a moment. Sarah quickly rose to the occasion to get under my skin: from the way she typed on a keyboard to loudly chewing on food, though it never stank as bad as that Co-op chicken and rice. Any loud noise had me rolling my eyes, glaring, and turning up my music. I was miserable, and I was determined to make anyone I could, miserable too. Mostly that just meant Sarah. I would snap at any comment, get pissed if she made any stops on the way home, and ignored her whenever possible.
The project was coming to a close. The rented office trailers were being sent back to cut down on expenses. Sarah and I were sent to work in Dawson Creek. As we both rented, and neither of us could move for the few weeks we would be there, so we drove the hour and a half there and back, six days a week, for two weeks instead.
New investors came on, and the founder of the company left. The new owners were clearing house. At the Dawson office, we got almost daily updates on who was let go, most of them had been with the company for years and were high up in the ranks.
Closing out the project meant tracking down all the vendors and contractors that were hired by us. We had to ensure that we had all the invoices, that they were approved, and all payments had been made. We also had to ensure that the numbers all lined up, and that no vendor was trying to overcharge and change the agreed upon rates. There was pressure to close out as soon as possible, but many vendors weren’t cooperating.
We were placed into a conference room to work. I just wanted to sleep and go home. I stopped caring about the job. Sarah was stressed that they no longer wanted to pay us Living Out Allowance (LOA) as we were no longer in the field, but we weren’t based in Dawson Creek either, and we weren’t at home. It took threatening to quit and a higher-up employee to plead our case.
We had to watch what we said and how loud we spoke, since the other administrative workers viewed us as girls who didn’t know what we were doing. Patricia was there working on her own projects, unaffected by any of the recent firings, still insisting her way was the only way. She would routinely talk about us as girls who “weren’t able to do anything on their own.”
We just had to make it two or three weeks, and then it’d be the end of March, and I’d be done. I figured Sarah would be able to handle the last bit of work on her own.
“Fuck you. Fuck this. I’m done!” I pulled over into a side road. Sarah had hit me, not once but twice, while I was driving her car.
I had hit my limit of being stuck with her for 12 hours a day. It was longer if we drove to Sexsmith for free gas from a company lot. It was one of those days. I was itching to get home.
The commute, one day off, and constant changes in the company structure had gotten to me. I was barely sleeping, barely eating, just trying to get through each work day with my head down. The snack that she opened to eat once she got back in the vehicle, stank. It was some all-natural peanut butter homemade bar. I couldn’t handle it.
I snapped. I refused to drive until she put it away. She kept telling me to behave, that there were cameras, and they could see us. We were still on company property.
We started getting louder, yelling at each other until I started driving. That was when she hit me hard in the side. I was in shock that she did that while I was driving her car.
I tried to hit her back. She hit me again and called me a bitch. I pulled over.
I put the car in park and got out, “I fucking quit! I’m done. I never want to see you again, and I don’t care what you tell them tomorrow, but I’m not going. I’m done.”
Sarah tried to backpedal. She didn’t want me standing on a side road in the middle of nowhere, where girls sometimes just go missing. I didn’t care.
I called our dad. He tried to calm me down. I was too angry. He hung up and called her to say I would stay on the phone with him until a taxi came, that I wouldn’t call one until she left.
I didn’t realize until after that I hadn’t grabbed my winter coat. It was zero degrees, officially, but with the wind, it felt so much colder. I was facing the consequences of my actions. I had moved to another province, dropped out of university for the semester, and quit my job. It was time to go home again. I wanted warmth back in my body. I wanted to see the sun on a daily basis. I wanted to read, and I wanted to spend all the money that I had just made.
The money went fast. Tuition, rent, and groceries have taken almost all of it by now. Books took a decent chunk too hardcovers aren’t cheap. The bit I have left is being saved to make payments after I finally graduate. My money isn’t my money.
A year after having come back, I miss the money. I miss it being solely mine, though I don’t believe it ever was. The student loans were always breathing down my neck. Now, I’ve just put a little bit of space between us.
I dream of getting that call saying there’s work, for that late night text to come in. I wouldn’t go crawling back, though. I’d go with a smile.
Life isn’t cheap, but northern Alberta was.
An
KEIRA HOLMAN
STAFF EDITOR
Course selection is upon us, fellow students — and if you’re anything like me, you await your assigned registration time with fearful anticipation. Who knows which classes UVic will offer from the master list? Will all of your prerequisites fit into the same schedule? Don’t even get me started on the dreaded waitlist.
For the past three years, I have gathered a set of registration strategies with all the diligence of an anxiety-ridden plan-lover. Personally, making decisions for the future makes me uncomfortably aware of whatever I’ve eaten for lunch. For those of you who get just as queasy about selecting courses as I do, I offer up my best advice for registration.
CHECK YOUR PROGRAM REQUIREMENTS
I hope this one goes without saying. But if you’re still wondering which classes you actually need to take, the best place to find them is UVic’s academic calendar. The “Programs” page (in both undergraduate and graduate versions) has checklists for every program and certificate at UVic, filled with so many details about requirements I find myself in danger of swooning.
SEE WHAT THEY’RE ACTUALLY OFFERING
So you’ve made a list of the classes you need, and perhaps an elective or two to bump up the GPA. But when you search for them on the registration page, half of them are nowhere to be found, and now the remaining options are starting to fill up. In other words it’s my worst course selection nightmare.
Luckily, there’s an easy way to get that disappointment over with: check out the actual class offerings by term on the UVic registration page — before you make your list of classes you need and classes you want.
PLAN AHEAD
UVic’s schedule-planning tool, Plan Ahead, is perhaps the pinnacle of my registration strategies. Besides
building out your term schedule using the actual class times, you can save your plan in the system and use it to sign up for classes when registration day arrives. No need to search in a panic, wondering if the classes you want are already filled up — you can submit all of them at once and use all of that leftover time to burn off the registration-day adrenaline.
BACK UP YOUR BACKUPS
A plan is not a plan without a backup — or, in the case of course registrations, four backups. Personally, I make myself a “just in case” schedule for each term, rather than scrambling to find another class or section that fits into Plan A. Does it take extra time? Sure. Would I rather leave it to chance? No way. Plus, Plan Ahead lets you save up to four backups per term.
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
It seems like every time I receive the email with my registration time, it falls in the middle of the day. For those of us with summer employment, this timing is especially tricky; signing up for courses in the middle of the workday doesn’t tend to mix with, well, work. So, if your assigned time doesn’t cooperate with your schedule, find yourself a trusted associate to submit your plan on time. A parent, a sibling, an unemployed friend — show them your plan and backups ahead of time to avoid any frantic text exchanges on the day itself. Just make sure to keep an eye on your phone for multi-factor authentication, because come registration day, Duo Mobile won’t be doing us anxious planners any favours.
Graphic via Dreamstine.
Is Victoria becoming a coastal city you can't swim in? Planned closure of YMCA/YWCA pool will 'put more strain' on other swim facilities, say advocates
BRIANNA BOCK VOLUNTEER STAFF WRITER
On May 6, it was announced that the YMCA/YWCA had entered a lease agreement for the space — previously occupied by Goodlife Fitness — on the top floor of the Bay Centre.
The new space is slated to open in early 2026. Unfortunately, the new facility does not have space for the previous facility’s racquet courts, gymnasium, cafe, and pool, leaving swimmers concerned about the loss of yet another swimming facility in Victoria.
On July 2, 2024, UVic announced that the McKinnon pool would close by Sep. 15. On Feb. 12, 2025, external consultants completed a condition evaluation, finding that repairs and upgrades to the pool would cost $5.1 million plus GST. UVic has stated they are willing to work with outside investment to cover upgrades and operating costs, given budgetary restraints.
Meanwhile, on Feb. 8, 2025, a referendum was held to determine whether the City of Victoria could borrow up to $168.9 million to replace the Crystal Pool & Fitness Centre and to select a site location. 58.71 per cent of voters voted to support the City’s proposal. As of writing, the pool has not yet closed for construction, but is expected to do so in late 2026 or early 2027. It is estimated the project will take approximately 5 years to complete.
That leaves seven pools remaining for Greater Victoria: Saanich Commonwealth Place (SCP), Gordon Head Recreation Centre, Esquimalt Recreation Centre, Oak Bay Recreation Centre, Juan de Fuca Centre, Westhills YMCA swimming pool, and the Panorama Recreation Centre in North Saanich.
“[Crystal Pool] is really the only [pool] besides the YMCA … in the Victoria area,
so I would have to go to Oak Bay, which is a little bit out of the way, or up to Commonwealth, which is a half hour bus ride, which is not ideal.” said Aleisha Woodman, a fifth year student at UVic who lives in downtown Victoria.
Woodman swims at Crystal Pool two to three times a week, especially in the summer. “[Crystal Pool] was fairly inexpensive for students,” she said. “There was a student rate there for drop in — $5 — and I’m not sure if that translates to the other pools in town as well.”
Following the closure of McKinnon Pool, the Vikes swim team has been using the Saanich Commonwealth Place to train.
“The closure of Crystal Pool hasn’t directly impacted my life, or my
teammates lives as Vikes, but it has indirectly trickled down. When you close one pool, all the people from that pool need to relocate,” said Ricky Millins, a fifth year Vikes swimmer, in a statement to the Martlet
Millins told the Martlet that pool closures put “more strain” on the facilities that remain open, which impacts young swimmers, and may have an impact on Vikes recruiting in the years to come. “With pools being taken from our youth, we begin to wonder where the next Vikes will be pulled from,” he said.
Millins added that Pacific Coast Swimming (PCS) and the Oak Bay Orcas have also spoken about the loss of pools due to maintenance and other closures.
The Orcas now have to divide their
UVic's Water Polo Club
approximately 100 kids between four different facilities, which adds operational challenges, such as scheduling coaches and driving kids to various pools across the city.
Coaches and board members of PCS the Orcas have also brought up the difficulty in scheduling pool time at other facilities, as said facilities try to balance their own programming and public swims with their user groups.
“You can run anywhere,” said Woodman. “You can’t swim anywhere.” She added that, when beaches are closed for contamination, pools are the only way you can go and swim.
“It’s removing these leisure activities, these recreational activities, and making Victoria seem less appealing,” she said. “Even though it’s a coastal city, you can’t
didn't let the empty
even go and swim.”
Millins stated that he’s noticed a dramatic increase of people at pools. “The Vikes swim at 2—4 p.m., [and] all those impacted by the pool closures (mostly young people), are still in school, so we don’t see it much when we’re swimming. However, if you go after school hours, there’s tons of kids. Commonwealth Place is also an ‘elite’ facility, so it’s one of the less crowded ones, but many other facilities across the city are over capacity.”
Dr. C. Peter Constabel, a professor of biology at UVic, began using the Oak Bay Recreation Centre after the closure of the McKinnon Pool. Constabel said in a statement to the Martlet that “the staff at the Oak Bay Rec Centre have already seen an increase in traffic, and are really worried about what will happen when the other two pools (YMCA/YWCA and the Crystal Pool) close. It will be a disaster for the pools that remain open, and the regular users there. Hours for recreational swimming could become very limited.”
Constabel said that it’s now harder to integrate swimming into his work day, but acknowledged that it was easier for him in comparison to students because he has a car, which many students may not have access to.
“If the pools are too crowded, it is more difficult to swim effectively, especially for not so comfortable pool users … it will deter people from using the pool and getting exercise.”
“Swimming is the most important sport in the world…. Because it’s not just a sport, it’s an essential skill,” said Millins.
“Purely from a safety standpoint, it’s important that … all people have the opportunity to develop this skill in a safe and controlled environment. … These are opportunities we need to provide our community with, not take away from them,” he said.
McKinnon Pool haunt their season
The club found success in the 2025 season, despite the loss of their usual practice spot
When UVic drained the McKinnon pool in September 2024, a number of different student clubs and groups were affected.
Isabel Howie, head coach and president of the UVic Water Polo Club, was directly impacted by the closure. She told the Martlet she believes “UVic could’ve handled the closure better,” and that there was room for fundraising or donations to either repair McKinnon or build a new pool, but didn’t hear this option discussed by university.
Howie said that multiple on-campus pools have closed across Canada recently.
“I don’t think that’s a good representation of the aquatic community, especially because the community is so large,” she said. “It’s not really fair to silence a whole community.”
Without McKinnon, the UVic Water Polo Club faced problems with finding pool space and recruiting new members. They received help from a local water polo club, Saanich Water Polo School, that helped the team coordinate funding for pool space. Without the school’s help, Howie said, “we would not have been able to afford pool space.”
Because of the assistance they received, the club was able to practice at Saanich Commonwealth Place (SCP), which is between a half-hour and hour-long bus ride from campus. Although lucky to have this pool space, the distance made
it difficult for the team to keep members. Not only was it hard finding members who could commit to such a distance, but also, Howie said that she “went into it blind” at the start of the season, because she was unsure about the team's plans without McKinnon.
At Clubs & Course Union (CCU) Days in September 2024, Howie said she felt bad telling people to join the team when she couldn’t answer their questions regarding pool location and practice
times. In previous years, she said, “It was a lot easier … to tell people we were at McKinnon, and to pop by if you want. People can’t just pop by when [the pool] is so far away.”
Despite the confusing start to the semester, Howie managed to quadruple the size of the water polo team. Last year, she said, the team had five members. This year, Howie recruited 15 new players, for a total of 20. Thanks to the higher number of players, and the team’s
affiliation with Saanich Water Polo School, the team entered their first tournament in October.
Howie said that “[It] was a good opportunity for everyone to start playing and get a hang of the game. We played against some younger teams and some international teams.”
There was room for the team to play in tournaments with SFU and UBC, Howie said, but doing so “would’ve cost a lot more … considering we would have
to pay for hotels and stuff.” Still, the team succeeded in their first tournament and placed third overall.
The biggest struggle for the team, said Howie, was ensuring that they had enough members to run practices and attend tournaments. But she still found the experience highly rewarding, despite the difficulties.
“I was really happy to see the progress that people had made in such a short amount of time and to see so many people trying a new sport,” she said.
Next year, Howie will resume her role as head coach and president of the team, and plans to train others to take her place for the following years.
The closure of the McKinnon Pool has had a significant impact on clubs like UVic Water Polo team, as well the Vikes swimming team and the UVic Whitewater Club. Howie said she hopes issues regarding McKinnon’s closure can be resolved soon, stating “it would be awesome to see UVic dedicate more effort and money into building a new pool.”
Until then, she has found two summer tournaments — one in July, and the other in August — for any interested players who want additional water polo experience. She told the Martlet she also aims to expand recruitment in the fall, and grow the team to include even more new players.
Illustration by Sona Eidnani.
Photo courtesy of Isabel Howie.
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT
UVic student featured in Sitting Bull documentary
Indigenous Studies student Nakoda Ward discusses his experience on set
BRIANNA BOCK VOLUNTEER STAFF WRITER
On May 27 and 28, a new documentary featuring a UVic student will premiere on the History Channel. Sitting Bull follows the leader of the Lakota Nation and their fight against George Armstrong Custer and his forces at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876 in an ongoing battle of resistance against the U.S. government.
Playing young Chief Gall, one of Sitting Bull’s allies, is fourth year Indigenous Studies student Nakoda Ward. The Martlet spoke with Ward over email about the experience, along with Indigenous Studies professor Dr. Jeff Ganohalidoh Corntassel, and Sitting Bull c0-director Christopher Nataanii Cegielski.
This article has been edited for clarity and concision.
How did you get involved with this documentary?
Ward: I first sent in a self-tape, then got a callback to audition over Zoom with the casting director and our directors, Chris and Phil. I didn’t hear back for a couple of weeks until I got a call from my agent letting me know I booked the role. I was with my friends when I got the call, and I jumped up and ran to them as if I’d just been drafted into the NFL.
What was it like acting in a documentary? I'd imagine that a documentary will call for historical accuracy — when acting, do you find this illuminating, restrictive, or both?
Ward: I was taught that acting is ‘living truthfully under imaginary circumstances.’ This project is a recreation of events from a significant moment in Lakota history, and going into it, I really just focused on immersing myself in that point of time and the story we were bringing to life. Thankfully, the incredible creative team behind the project was there every step of the way — making sure the history was honoured while giving us, as actors, the space to grow and fully embody our roles.
What was it like to play Chief Gall? While playing him, did you discover anything about him as a person that resonated for you?
Ward: The second I found out I booked the project, I immediately started doing some research on Gall. Gall became a war chief in his 20s, and at the time we shot the documentary, I had just turned 20.
Not exactly a war chief yet myself, but as I learned more about him, I really admired his strength, leadership, and ability to adapt in the face of so much change and violence.
What was the experience like working with cast and crew?
Ward: Everyone on set was amazing. Every day, people showed up ready to work, but we always made time to have fun. Laughter is good medicine, and there was definitely no shortage of it on Sitting Bull. I especially got to bond with my scene partners — between takes, we’d joke around and mess with each other like true brothers.
Cegielski: This project was an amazing experience on so many levels. Our talented cast of Native actors brought it every single day, working together to bring this story to life and pouring themselves into it.
I had a lot of fun working with actors like [Ward] and the other younger Native actors. It makes me proud seeing them do their thing, coming onto a bigger set with confidence and poise. [I’m] excited to see them take off in their careers!
Would you work on another, similar project again in the future?
Ward: Absolutely. Film is such a strong vessel for Indigenous Peoples to tell stories, and I am really grateful that I got to be part of that.
From the trailer it seems that the documentary will be focused on the Battle of Little Bighorn — or will it cover more from Sitting Bull's life before and after?
Ward: My scenes touch on Sitting Bull’s early life. As for the rest, I’ll be watching and learning as an audience member too.
How do you balance historical accuracy and entertainment?
Corntassel: Historical accuracy should come first. Indigenous oral histories and accounts are very precise — especially when they’re expressed in
'Sports Car Era': In conversation with Devours
An Offbeat by CFUV artist interview
CAROLINE TUCKER
CONTRIBUTING WRITER
ELLA RYAN-THOMSON
CONTRIBUTING WRITER
Who are you as an artist?
I consider myself to be an experimental pop musician and a producer. Devours is my singersongwriter, diaristic confessional project.
Growing up, what was your relationship like with music?
I’ve adored music since I was a kid.
our languages. With that said, there’s always room for interpretation by subsequent generations, which is why these are living histories. Ultimately, Indigenous Peoples are not here to entertain others — we’re here to recount our sacred living histories in ways that honour our ancestors.
In 2025, what does it mean to work on a story about Indigenous resistance?
Ward: To me, stories about Indigenous resistance today are a powerful form of reclamation. It’s a way of taking back how our histories have been told, and often misrepresented, in the past.
Corntassel: In this era of geopolitical turmoil and autocratic governance, stories of Indigenous resurgence and resistance are much needed to highlight what liberation and freedom look like for Indigenous Nations and Peoples.
Now more than ever, we need to draw on the creative and effective ways that Indigenous Peoples resist ongoing colonization in everyday ways — and understand our long, vibrant histories of resistance to unjust policies and colonial encroachments. [Ward] reflects the future leadership of our Nations, and he is asserting Indigenous self-determining authority by representing ourselves on our own terms. [Ward] is part of larger Indigenous movements, and struggles for resurgence so that future generations will thrive.
What do you hope audiences will take away from the documentary?
Ward: I hope audiences walk away with a deeper understanding of the Lakota people's rich history and the powerful resistance they showed against Custer and his forces. Over the generations, Indigenous Peoples have resisted colonial violence, each in their own way and capacity.
I discovered MuchMusic when I was 10, and watched it religiously through my teens. I put out my first album, which was a rap album, when I was 13. It's the worst thing you can imagine.
Who are your biggest influences?
I grew up in Nanaimo. At that time, no bands would come through town. All of my exposure was FM radio and MuchMusic. I was inspired by Timbaland — like everything that he did with Missy Elliot. You can hear it in the way that I program percussion.
Do you ever go back and perform in Nanaimo?
Yeah, and it is so humbling every time. It's tempting to hold on to that angst of being like , “I escaped this lame place.” But places can change for the better, and it's actually kind of great now. It's so young, queer, and creative.
What song from Sports Car Era is particularly meaningful to you?
The title track ties everything together. The song's pretty raw.
It touches upon getting squeezed out of the music industry, aging, and ageism. This city has changed. Venues have changed. There's a whole new generation of kids now playing shows in Vancouver. A lot of my friends aged out, and it's been a fascinating few years. I tried my best to encompass that.
What's your favorite song from Sports Car Era?
I really like how "Swordswallower (Zendaya‘s Fortress)" turned out. With all of my music, I sit down at a piano and write the song front to back acoustically. The challenge is, I really like all of the songs to start with, and by the time I produce and sing on it, I often have this sad moment of, “Oh God, I hate my voice.” But with "Swordswallower", it sounds the way I wanted it to in my head.
Can you tell us the story of the ‘Gaylien’?
The ‘Gaylien’ started as a joke. I went bald when I was 31 or so, and was like, “I'm gonna look like an alien.” With this alien head and big eyebrows, a friend of mine was like, “you should call yourself Gaylien.” The first albums were an arc where I left the planet and escaped judgment and trauma. I wanted to create a world that was accepting for all gays and artists. Homecoming Queen is the fourth album. I put it out at the beginning of COVID, when I moved back in with my parents. The album is about having to return home and face the things that you ran away from. Sports Car Era is a reference to the midlife crisis. It's about reintegrating into the world as a 40 year old musician, and dealing with expectations. We're in the arc right now — on Earth, trying to make it work. We'll see if I go back to space.
Photo via History.com.
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT
Clear your calendar for a summer of local live music in Victoria
The Martlet's comprehensive guide to fun and funky events happening this summer
HAILEY
CHUTTER SENIOR STAFF WRITER
The number of professional artists working in Victoria is double the national average, making this city a hub for local live music.
Although Victoria has experienced multiple closures of music venues in the past five years, its music scene continues to thrive in increasingly creative ways. An impressive volume of shows are coming up this summer, and there is something for everyone in the mix.
To toe the line between providing affordable suggestions as well as financially supporting local artists, The Martlet has put together a list of great shows coming up this summer, including free, by-donation, and ticketed events.
FESTIVALS
This summer is packed with festivals featuring local artisans, food, and live music. Whole neighbourhoods are putting on free festivals in June including Vic West Fest, the Cook Street Village Block Party, and FernFest.
In July, the Fifth Annual Indigenous Music Festival is happening at Hampton Park to celebrate Indigenous performers from across Vancouver Island.
Festivals such as the Ska & Reggae festival and JazzFest offer both ticketed and free performances in June, and the Blues 'n' Roots festival is a similar set up in August.
Staple higher-cost festivals, such as the Phillips Backyard Music Festival, Folk Festival, and Rifflandia Festival are also returning to town.
CONCERT SERIES
With warmer weather comes concerts in beautiful outdoor venues. Concert series often feature a good variety of genres, catering to different music tastes each week. Centennial Square will host the free Eventide Concert Series on Wednesday evenings in July and August.
At Beacon Hill Park, the Cameron Bandshell stage will have free concerts from June to September. Additionally, the Government House, at 1401 Rockland Avenue, will put on Music on the Lawn, a free concert series on select Thursday
nights in July.
Every Saturday until Oct. 4 the James Bay Market features local music talent. Pop-upbarndances(@westcoastbarndances) and bike raves (@victoriabikerave) are active events for those wanting to enjoy music and get in a real workout.
VENUES
This year, Fort Tectoria, on Fort Street, has opened its doors as a low-cost venue for live music. Additionally, following the closing of Hermann’s Upstairs, the Coda has opened above Hermann's Jazz Club
and has two stages.
Other consistent live music venues include Wheelies Motorcycles, Little Fernwood Gallery, the Capital Ballroom, Phoenix Bar and Grill, and Lucky Bar. Additionally, music lovers can often find events in more niche venues around town; record shops, tattoo parlours, photography studios — and even sports clubs — have been stepping up to the plate and hosting live music; examples include Vinyl Envy, Cafe Fantastico, The Mint, Rebel Garage, Cinderbloc Studios, and Discovery Sports Club, amongst others. Ticket costs at these venues commonly
range from $15–30.
Accessibility information for less conventional shows can often be found on @crip.toria, an instagram page that centralizes access information and consults with promoters.
For those feeling overwhelmed by the amount of live music to keep track of this summer, consider checking LampPost — an online platform that assembles all of the events going on in Victoria into one spot. They have a calendar dedicated to live music, as well as a music event search bar, which can be filtered by date, music genre, and cost. If checking a website isn’t your thing, you can sign up for their e-newsletter, which is sent out every Thursday and Sunday with upcoming events.
According to their website, LampPost’s mission is to “make Victoria a more connected community.” In an interview with The Martlet, Simon Laroque, the co-founder of LampPost, said that going out to live shows “goes a very very long way for feeling connected in where you live.” Not only do these events provide great music and support local musicians, but they are also an occasion for people to come together, dance, and connect.
As the Victoria arts community fights to keep their venues and to provide spaces for Victoria’s overflowing local talent, they have left us with a jam-packed summer of live music to enjoy! Most importantly, as Laroque put it, these events give us an opportunity to meet new people, get off our phones, and go out into our community.
New Legacy Art Gallery exhibit celebrates the life of c̓išaaʔatḥ artist George Clutesi
The exhibit is a 'show of collective will' says curator Dr. Andrew Wals
HAILEY CHUTTER
SENIOR STAFF
WRITER
A new exhibit, titled “GEORGE CLUTESI: ḥašaḥʔap / ʔaapḥii / ʕac̓ik / ḥaaʔaksuqƛ / ʔiiḥmisʔap” has entered the Legacy Art Gallery and will be showing until July 26.
The exhibit explores the work of late c̓išaaʔatḥ artist George Clutesi, who educated others on Nuu-chah-nulth values, beliefs, traditions, and culture. The Martlet sat down with one of the curators of the exhibition, Dr. Andrew Walsh, to learn more.
This interview has been edited for clarity and concision.
Can you explain how the five traits — ḥašaḥʔap (protective), ʔaapḥii (generous), ʕac̓ik (talented), ḥaaʔaksuqƛ (strong willed), and ʔiiḥmisʔap (treasure) — were chosen as the title for this exhibit?
One of the things that is foundational to the exhibition is that we have been guided by both Nuu-chah-nulth Elders, particularly survivors of the (Alberni) Residential School, on how to think about curating in a good way. Very early on, in the fall of 2021, we visited c̓išaaʔatḥ territory (Port Alberni) and … we asked the oldest son of George and Margaret Clutesi [George Jr.] permission to do [an] exhibition about his dad.
At that meeting, we were advised to work with a c̓išaaʔatḥ Elder, Ann Robinson, in terms of any kind of cultural work that we would do. One of the Nuuchah-nulth Elders, Wally Samuel (from
the Ahousaht Nation) said, "if you’re doing any language work, Helen Dick from c̓išaaʔatḥ can be somebody that you can go and ask to be part of this work".
I spoke to [Helen] about how [we] were struck by how George Clutesi is not only a historical figure of importance in terms of the Nuu-chah-nulth Nations and Canada and beyond, but his work has great resonance today. When I spoke to Helen, I [asked] "is there a way that we can say in Nuu-chah-
nulth "someone or something valued through time"? Is there a term that would indicate that?" and she said "no, you can’t do that, the English doesn’t go to c̓išaaʔatḥ in that way". So, she said ‘what I can do is give you the words that would reflect what that means’ … so, that's what those words are; they are a reflection on the traits of the person or thing that would be valued through time. And she came forward with those words.
Can you speak about your own career as a visual anthropologist and how this exhibit emerged out of your work?
The curating that I do is deeply grounded in how I think as an artist researcher, but it is more than that defined by how I’ve been taught by community that I’m working with. A lot of that has been over the last … 13 years, working with Nuu-chah-nulth Elders and their families.
The way that the exhibition has been part of my career is a dove tailing of my academic studio background, but more than that, it's been guided by the generosity of the families that I’ve worked with. With whom we’ve been doing projects that are either about their family history or … the repatriation of children's artwork to survivors.
When we worked on the Clutesi show, at the beginning we took all those teachings, like going to the family, asking permission, working with a speaker from the family … it was very much about "what art will come forward"? It was very organic and relational, as opposed to collections-based. A key moment in the creation of the
exhibition was when people started bringing art out of their houses for the exhibition. I just loved that.
How do you think Clutesi’s interactions with institutions affected his legacy as an artist and activist?
People often use the metaphor of "he built bridges" or he … was an "anchor in turbulent waters". He went places that — and by went places, I mean not just physically inserted himself into places, but occupied places in people's hearts and minds — he inserted himself into these places as a strong, confident c̓išaaʔatḥ person.
The legacy of him doing that is … I think why he’s remembered as such a leader. It truly was his humanity and kindness that made him a critically thoughtful leader. He bravely engaged difficult conversations [and] contexts. He left a legacy of
inspiration for Nuu-chah-nulth people and people who are non-Indigenous people, to what is possible.
Do you have anything else to add or that you want readers to know about the exhibit?
I have to acknowledge just how many — the dozens of people — who contributed to the show. Through the Clutesi family, the Alberni Residential School survivors, the artists and scholars. The media wall was created by students through Jen Robinson and I’s museum and anthropology class, and then members of the public who came forward with their art. It really is a show of collective will.
Legacy Art Gallery is located on Lekwungen territory, at 630 Yates St. It is free to the public and is open Wednesday to Saturday from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m..
Photo by Hailey Chutter.
Photo by Hailey Chutter.
Photo by Hailey Chutter featuring UNDERGROUND.
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