“…quietly breaking down”

On the field of lower campus, there is a statue of James McGill. With one hand holding onto his hat as the other clutches a walking stick, he seems to be braving much resistance as he struggles forward. The other day, a dozen metres in the direction he is headed, hundreds of protesters gathered in support of a strike that has crippled much of the university. 

Since the first day of September, exactly at the height of very hectic and busy time that characterises every new term, the core of the university’s administration has been on strike. Potentially, the strike could last for months if no compromise can be reached. Various picket lines have formed just outside the campus premises (law prohibits them from entering McGill premises), with staff rattling tambourines, striking metal bins, braving the rain and heat, and walking around in circles to defend their right to equitable pay. 

The industrial action was called by McGill University Non-Academic Certified Association (MUNACA), the body that represents some 1700 McGill support staff. It was triggered by a breakdown in negotiations about the terms and conditions of employment, which have drastically been changed over a number of years. Salary increases have not met up with inflation or wage increases at other universities in the province, and a number of benefits have been unilaterally cut. “It’s the economy”, the university says.

“McGill is quietly breaking down”, as one of the speakers described it addressing the crowd. Security staff stood, stern faced and silent, and eyed the gathering crowd with folded arms. In the lukewarm sun, hundreds stood assembled and cheered as different speakers representing different communities of the university came out to speak in support of the strike. Disappointed, yet resilient, sidelined, yet not deterred, the crowd chanted slogans in unions and sang modified versions of popular songs to further their cause. In a further demonstration of solidarity, the student unions which represent undergraduates and postgraduates, as well as a number of professors and organisations, have voiced their staunch support for the strike. 

It comes down to how much so many have dedicated their lives to this university, to ensuring the continued life and thriving of this community, and yet get very little recognition in return. And now they must make do with even less. The clapping of passersby and the honking horns of supportive drivers galvanised the protesters even more, and fueled the mutual feelings of unity and solidarity. A sea of placards with clever and succinct sentences described the workers’ discontent. 

“McGill works because we do!”

“Support our support staff!”

 “McGill students in solidarity!”

Among the crowd, I recognised a number of familiar faces. The librarian who works late into the night, and who must also work the whole day on Saturdays and Sundays… the secretaries who does everything and anything that is asked of them… Men and women I have seen around campus, maybe even nodded and smiled at as we crossed paths at times, but now, with their matching T-shirts, I have come to recognise play a vital role in keeping this university we cherish running. I greeted a number of people I work with, and they greatly appreciated the solidarity many students have demonstrated in marching with them. The echo of a clap, the heart-warming effects of uttering a few words of encouragement, the recognition of the look in a stranger’s eyes that say “I’m with you”… Little gestures and words go a long, long way in bringing people together in the struggle against a seemingly unresponsive and stubborn bureaucracy.

 In an email circulated among McGill students and staff recently, the university underlined the “substantial deficit this year as well as a significant accumulated debt” McGill is facing, and notes that the situation is further “aggravated by the recent additional turmoil in economic markets”. Cuts have to be made, no doubt. But why does it have to come out of the pensions and benefits of the university’s support staff, when the principal earns much more than the Prime Minister of Canada, and over two million is spent on the renovation of one floor alone? Budgetary constraints may require the university to “make choices, some sacrifices”, but why does the university’s administrative support staff, the very people who makes everything function, have to bear the brunt of these sacrifices? 

Long queues are forming at circulation desks and administrative offices due to reduced staff, as are the grumblings. Paperwork is piling up, salaries are being unpaid, libraries have reduced opening hours. Even the internet connection, which normally works so smoothly, seem to have its moments of breaking down.  These are just some of the small tasks and chores we take for granted, but when left undone, greatly impacts the ability of students and the academic staff to go about their daily business of teaching, research and learning. Complaints are mounting, and the impression of McGill as a renowned institution of learning and teaching has no doubt become tainted by its inability to placate demands and meet the needs of its vital support staff. 

I feel the strike, and every day when I walk on campus, I see and hear it too. The deafening din of bells rings, metallic banging, and horns being blown may be distracting, and may even be annoying. But the sight of colourful banners, buttons and children marching alongside the men and women who keep this place running remind us of how dependent we all are on them, and how they depend on our support so they can continue to support our time at McGill under better conditions and with better pay.