by Gillian Smith-Clark

The exact number remains unverified, but a group of young men got the text from Michael McLeod to come to a London, Ontario hotel room that night. E.M. testified at trial that as many as eleven men were in the room over the course of the evening; the Crown’s argument stated that ten showed up. The trial record does not fix a single, undisputed number for how many got the text or how many were present in a way that all sides accept – what we do know is that there was a group text sent to multiple players: some responded, others didn’t. It has also been reported that McLeod, after having consensual sex with E.M., went out into the hallway of the hotel that night and invited more people into the room. 

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No one involved, as far as we know, recognized that this could be a situation where a young woman might need help, that she might have found herself in a situation she was not anticipating, might have felt blindsided – possibly scared and overwhelmed in an environment where her judgment was impaired by alcohol, was surrounded by men who were not only strangers to her, but physically intimidating. 

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There are so many lingering questions about both the events of that night and the subsequent trial and verdict – the lack of empathy by the judge and prevalence of victim blaming and shaming (e.g. Justice Carroccia’s petty and demeaning finding that E.M.’s evasive response to a mistake she had made about her weight was “telling,”) that was present both at trial and in the verdict; the noticeable absence of expert testimony on trauma; the gruelling nine days of testimony that E.M. was put through on the stand, a judicial system that seems incapable of handling sexual assault cases well and a 91-page final written decision that reeks of bias and internalized miso

gyny.  

Further, a crucial and haunting question is: Out of those men who didn’t respond or participate, why did none question or intervene in any way? Reach out for help or advice from a friend, coach or parent? And by extension, how can we work as individuals and as a society to ensure that future outcomes, in similar situations, end differently? 

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The question of the young men who did nothing to help is one that immediately invokes a toxic mixture of strong emotions – sadness, fear, revulsion, anger, contempt – yet understanding the motivation behind the thought processes of the men involved can provide at least some insight into how to change behaviour, change culture, and offer a measure of hope for the future. 

Understanding the ‘Why’

Beyond the bystander effect, fear of social consequences and moral disengagement, we live in a cultural landscape that often characterizes an ideal vision of masculinity as one of power, dominance, aggression, emotional suppression, and impulsivity. Pete Hegseth articulated this philosophy perfectly in a recent speech to U.S. generals, where he describes ideal leadership culture as defined by ‘aggressiveness and risk-taking.’  Hegseth went on to say, “[…] an entire generation of generals and admirals were told that they must parrot the insane fallacy that quote, our “diversity is our strength”.” 

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Layered underneath that fabric of an unhealthy masculine ideal is the broader objectification and commodification of women and gender expansive people, and a culture that too often confuses coercion with consent.  Underneath that layer, at the base of everything, is a cultural foundation where boys are inundated from early childhood with the message that they must suppress and lock down their own emotions or risk rejection from those they depend on and love. Activist and writer Jeff Perera speaks about this phenomenon particularly well in a recent podcast episode for The 44 North, “Moving From Harmful to Helpful Ideas of Manhood” alongside his written companion essay, “Five Truths on Not Buying into the Manosphere Bait and Switch.”

The result, on that particular evening in London in 2018, was that the text received probably didn’t trigger any alarm bells or uneasiness because this type of behaviour is not only normalized but expected. And too often, it is still celebrated.

These were young, male, elite athletes who were raised in an environment where objectifying and commodifying women was so typical, so woven into the fabric of their society, that they didn’t see it as alarming – they probably didn’t see it at all. Therefore, there was no cause for alarm or an impulse to intervene.

One of the many unintended consequences of boys and young men being systematically taught emotional suppression (and often punished and shamed for certain types of emotional expression, e.g. ‘boys don’t cry’) from an early age, is that they also learn to subconsciously ‘switch off’ their feelings, the prerequisite for an ability to switch off cognition, critical thinking and their humanity in the moment. That foundational mechanism can allow an otherwise intelligent, kind, talented young human to ignore any alarm bells that might be sounding in their heads. This isn’t a case of ‘a few bad apples’, but a foundational problem requiring systemic change. 

Taking Action: What makes a difference?

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It starts with us. As individuals and as a society, we play a foundational role in shaping how boys and all genders understand masculinity — what it means to be a “good man,” how to express emotion, how to relate to others with empathy and respect, and how to take responsibility for our actions. Together, we can build a new vision of healthy masculinity — one that values wisdom, integrity, moral courage and thoughtfulness. 

A simple place to start is by celebrating and recognizing the right qualities in all genders – by recognizing our own humanity so that we can see it in others – and by finding everyday role models who exhibit strength through emotional intelligence, compassion, and moderation.  

Further Reading

• One Night in London by Katie Strang, Dan Robson, and Ian Mendes, NY Times

• On Healthy Masculinity by Helena Nikitopoulos and Asante Haughton

• Full Written Verdict

• Analyzing Justice Maria Carroccia’s Hockey Canada Verdict by Sean Fine and David Ebner, The Globe and Mail

• The Skeletons in Hocket Canada’s Closet are our Own, by Asante Haughton, The 44 North

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Resources

• Higher Unlearning

• Re: Masculine

• Next Gen Men

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by Mikaela Brewer, ​for The 44 North

Senior Editor

“We see it time and time again in our studio. The kids who come to see us often have this perception that music is magic, that it can’t be understood. Learning about melody and harmony, chord progressions, and just how simple the construction of their favourite music is, a lot of the time, helps to break down that mysticism, making learning the language of music more accessible. ”

Editor's Note: I had the absolute privilege of chatting all things learning music with Bob Cole, founder of Modern Music Studio—a community-focused group of musicians & teachers emphasizing student-directed lessons & learning as fun. Please enjoy our discussion!

Mikaela Brewer (MB): Modern Music Studio provides a space for everyone to “discover their musical passions on their own terms.” I love how this implies an inherent potential & possibility in a world that teaches us we can't approach music without ‘talent’. What does this mean to you? How have you seen this discovery happen at the studio?

Bob Cole (BC): This is a really important philosophy, or foundation of our studio. We truly believe that EVERYONE has music inside of them. Nothing irks me more than someone saying, “I wish I could play an instrument, but I just wasn’t born with it”. There is this myth that musicians are created at birth, and that truly isn't the case. We just have to find what music connects with you, and allow that music to flow through you. Anyone who loves music, anyone who loves to dance, anyone who loves to air drum or air guitar, anyone who lip syncs their favourite songs—truly, anyone can learn to play an instrument. 

We see it time and time again in our studio. The kids who come to see us often have this perception that music is magic, that it can’t be understood. Learning about melody and harmony, chord progressions, and just how simple the construction of their favourite music is, a lot of the time, helps to break down that mysticism, making learning the language of music more accessible. The adult students are a totally different case altogether. I’ve seen many adult students who wanted to learn an instrument but were unsure because they’d never done it before, or believed the “born with it” myth. Breaking down those barriers can be difficult; we all become a bit more stubborn in our older years. But for those who are willing to put in the work, stop believing the myth, and instead believe in the music inside of them, it can be tremendously rewarding (not just for them, but for us as well). We have students who came to us with no musical knowledge in their 50s and 60s and are now playing open mics or jams regularly around town. Watching students begin to believe in the music inside of them is perhaps our greatest source of joy. 

MB: On student leadership: because part of the magic is discovery, choosing an instrument, style, repertoire, and pace of learning offers creative control that's supportive for anyone, but perhaps especially for young people! Tell us more about what this looks like—what if a student doesn’t (yet) know what makes them special? 

BC: Such a great question. All of our instructors focus on positivity and building a love of music first and foremost. So the focus isn’t really on accomplishment (though that’s often a nice by-product), but on building a positive relationship with their creativity. It is a very vulnerable position that students put themselves in when they come to see us. We are asking them to share something that is a very personal connection: their personal taste in music. Initially, it can be difficult for them to share what it is about music they love. Our instructors are versatile and understanding in a way that makes kids feel comfortable and ready to share what music makes them feel special. We focus on positivity and listen to music through our students' lens to find their joy and help foster their connection to music in that moment. And it can often be in the least expected places! We have taught music from movies, video games, and even a radio jingle! Teaching songs that kids (and adults) recognize and connect with allows them to feel that connection and understand that what they love about music is distinct and unique to them alone. The benefits for self-esteem and confidence building with kids have been incredible to see. 

MB: On having fun: how have you seen the joy of growth/learning impacted—or maybe shifted from the way we think about learning at school—by empowering students to learn music they love?

BC: Fun is such an important part of learning in our view. By focusing on loving music first, we sort of create that carrot on the stick. The goal isn’t to learn ‘this’ scale so that you can play ‘this’ song. We teach it a bit backwards. We teach the song and then, once they’ve grown some confidence and connection to that piece, we start to show them maybe what scale it’s using, or what a score of that song looks like and how to read it, or perhaps how to transpose that song to another key so that it matches their voice. This resonates in a huge way with students. Not only can they learn their favourite songs, but they can start to understand the theory behind how these songs are constructed. By starting with fun, we sort of “trick” students into learning the nuts and bolts of music. So much of education is focused on learning a concept or a theory first, then it moves to how that theory is applied. Some educators came along and disrupted this idea (think Bill Nye or Mark Rober). They start with the application, then work backward to the theory. It’s a much more fun way to learn, in our opinion. The added benefit is that the student gets to choose the “application” (the song) that allows them to learn the theory, which makes them that much more engaged and connected to their learning. 

MB: On building community: we all know that tending connection is community care. Modern Music Studio has such a dedicated group of skilled, supportive teachers, but part of your goal is to connect students to their peers to learn songs together, form bands, and make friendships. The studio is located in a warm, cozy house in downtown Barrie, but what does community look like outside of sessions?

BC: We have so many students, for whatever reason, who seem to have difficulty fitting in with other walks of life, or difficulty with confidence in other areas. But when they walk through our doors, they get to feel like a rock star. And we’ve seen these kids’ confidence soar beyond our walls, to the performances we put on (Five Points Theatre, Aqua Theatre Orillia, and the Barrie Legion), and to the weekly jams we host. We’ve watched friendships grow and provided a sense of belonging for some kids who really needed it. As the years have gone on, we’ve watched kids graduate to university or college arts programs (one was even accepted to Harvard!). It's been super rewarding to help these kids find their footing and build their sense of belonging along the way. I think our approach—focusing on fun, encouraging a multi-instrumentalist approach, encouraging students to play music with their peers, to perform and to write and record songs—it’s given students a sense of belonging that maybe they didn’t have before they began lessons.

When I first had the idea for our studio, I wanted first and foremost for it to be a place where students who love music would find others like them and to bond over that love. I wanted to build a community of young musicians. The mutual passion for music we see in our students is incredible, and we love knowing that we’ve helped to create friendships and memories that will last a lifetime. 

MB: How can folks reading this spotlight support the musicians at Modern Music Studio—teachers & students alike?

BC: First and foremost, support the arts in our community in any way you can! The knock-on effects of that will benefit all of us who are trying to enrich our beautiful city through the creative arts. 

If you are interested in finding out more about music lessons with us, please go to modernmusicstudio.ca or email modernmusicbarrie@gmail.com to ask us any questions you might have. 

And finally, keep an eye out for all the amazing things our students and teachers are doing in our community, from working with at-risk or underprivileged youth (Glowing Hearts Charity, Orillia Youth Centre), to bi-annual performances at the Five Points Theatre and other venues around town, where you may find one of our students or teachers playing. We also have the amazing band Jupiter Hollow, who have members teaching with us, and then there is Sammy Johnston, who is an incredible blues/rock musician. Alondra Vega-Zaldivar is working as musical director this fall with the South Simcoe Theatre. And we have our choir starting up this spring that will be led by the incredibly talented Gillian Seaman. So look for their performances as well, and be sure to cheer super loud for our float at the Santa Claus parade in November! Follow us on Instagram and Facebook to keep track of all the cool things we are up to. And a vote for us in the Reader's Choice Awards in October would be really great too!

by Mikaela Brewer ​for The 44 North

Senior Editor

“half-blood” by Justene Dion-Glowa from The League of Canadian Poets’ Poetry Pause, June 5th, 2024

Note: This poem is not in the public domain! Please use the link above to read it.

Justene Dion-Glowa is a queer Métis poet living in Secwepemcúl’ecw. An alum of the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity, they now work in the non-profit sector and recently released their first full-length poetry collection, Trailer Park Shakes, available now via Brick Books.

The brilliance of Justene Dion-Glowa’s poem shines through their use of white space on the page, which is one of my favourite craft tools in poetry. In “half-blood”, space—including caesuras, stanza breaks, line breaks, and indents, for example—works as hard as words, enacting the feeling of being ‘halved’ alongside a sort of sinister whiteness. But there is also space for thought, pause, breath, love, and reverence, for “the strength of our people / and Creator / reflecting in my eye shine”. The title of the poem, “half-blood”, isn’t extrapolated directly, but this is why it works so well: it layers the poem’s language. And although it likely speaks to Dion-Glowa’s Métis heritage, it also says: for so much to coexist is to be devastated—to be in a perpetual state of halving oneself and being halved by society. It’s both a brand of erasure and a necessary state of reflection.

Dion-Glowa, with tender care, also weaves in reflections on longing for the “sleek, hot, and slender-framed conventionally attractive”, “not made for a life of hardship”. A longing, now, to be halved. But I also think about the etymology of the word ‘hardship’, which conjures the rigidity of the British and French ships seemingly pouring into harbours, everything aboard inflicted like a trap. Dion-Glowa’s lines, here, gently shift blame and fault from them and their people. Followed by white space, I see these lines afloat, reclaiming the sea dominated by whiteness. 

There are also several short lines, intentionally placed to help us mirror feeling. For example, “spoons tapping along to the rhythm / I consider / how lucky I am / to have a weight I must carry physically” offers space to mirror how we consider gratitude, particularly with the inclusion of extra space beneath “how lucky I am”. Similarly, Dion-Glowa leaves extra space for generations to hurt—the past is not obsolete or ‘back in time’, it’s ongoing and always with us. The hurt didn’t happen behind us, it’s beneath our every step.

I’m also drawn to the musicality in “half-blood”, specifically in “girthy thighs”, “bison & bear”, and “food / fur / fibre / so / I starve no longer.” When rhyme and alliteration are used here, they ask us to chew. The language is delicious, so an excellent craft choice for the content of these lines (which become memorable for these reasons).

In the same vein as musicality, word choice profoundly shapes a poem. The word ‘meager’ stands out, starkly, because it’s the only word italicized. It also drives the last line, and is uncapitalized when we’d expect a capital ‘M’. We so often repeat “meager means” when we’re speaking about intentionally marginalized and “underprivileged” folks. By using lower case and italics, Dion-Glowa is tapping on the shoulder of the inflection—fear, discomfort, disgust—that’s used when we say ‘meager’, which our lexicon bolsters: “deficient in quantity, fullness, or extent; scanty, deficient in richness, fertility, or vigor; feeble, having little flesh; lean (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 5th Edition).” Anti-fatness and ableism are apparent here without these exact words, reflective of the covert ways they outline our world. This is the power of poetry—‘meager’ is one word, and placed well, it does the work of evoking everything “half-blood” is alive on the page to say: in body, mind, spirit, and relationship, Dion-Glowa and their people are not, never have been, and never will be meager.