CANADA

‘An advertisement for the nuclear industry’: Jonathan Wilkinson slammed for accepting nuclear waste strategy

Story by The Canadian Press •

 On Thursday, Natural Resources Minister Jonathan Wilkinson accepted the Integrated Strategy for Radioactive Waste, paving the way for a deep geological repository and multiple near-surface disposal facilities.

Justin Roy, a councillor for Kebaowek First Nation, an Algonquin First Nation opposing a low-level nuclear landfill site beside the Ottawa River, calls Wilkinson’s move both “concerning and disheartening,” he told Canada’s National Observer.

The near-surface disposal facility would be in Chalk River, roughly 180 kilometres northwest of Ottawa. The facility is a large above-surface mound that will house radioactive tools and protective equipment within a kilometre of the Ottawa River, a culturally significant river for the Algonquin Nation and a water source for millions. The Canadian Nuclear Safety Commission will decide in the coming weeks or months whether the near-surface disposal facility will get the go-ahead.

Roy interprets Wilkinson’s rhetoric in the press release as a green light for the near-surface disposal facility proposed by Canadian Nuclear Laboratories. 

“It just makes you think that the writing is on the wall when it comes to the[near-surface disposal facility], for sure,” he said.

The facility plan is undergoing “a thorough regulatory review process led by the Canadian Nuclear Safety Commission, including an assessment of any potential effects on the environment based on science, evidence, and Indigenous knowledge,” a statement from Natural Resources Canada said.

But Roy believes the commission is skirting Indigenous consultation and knowledge. He points to how Canadian Nuclear Laboratories, the company constructing the near-surface facility, did not change or edit its proposal to reflect Algonquin environmental assessments done over the past year, Roy said.

Roy is skeptical the Nuclear Safety Commission will heed the concerns of opposing Algonquin Nations. He thinks the commission is box-ticking Indigenous consultation off the checklist on the way to approval. The commission also did not make any edits or changes based on Algonquin concerns, Roy said.

Algonquin opposition will consider all options, including legal avenues if the near-surface disposal facility goes forward, Roy said.

The Chalk River facility will be the first in Canada, with Wilkinson’s press release pointing towards an expansion of “multiple near-surface disposal facilities,” setting the stage for a nuclear waste boom in Canada.

Ninety per cent of the waste is from Chalk River Laboratories, owned by Canadian Nuclear Laboratories, a private subsidiary of the Crown corporation Atomic Energy of Canada Limited. Canadian Nuclear Laboratories is owned primarily by AtkinsRéalis, formerly known as SNC-Lavalin.

Elizabeth May, co-leader of the Green Party of Canada, is concerned about the growing presence of the nuclear industry’s role in radioactive waste management, which may signal an expansion of nuclear energy through small modular reactors. Bruce Power has already announced it is planning to expand the largest operating nuclear power station in the world.

May fears AtkinsRéalis is positioning itself as a player in the nuclear industry with possible expansions in Quebec, New Brunswick and the Prairies. It’s a steep rise for the company: AtkinsRéalis only arrived on the nuclear scene once it bought Atomic Energy of Canada Limited for a “bargain, basement price” from the Harper government, May said.

“There's not a single indication in that press release from … Wilkinson that there's any caution or concern around the nuclear industry's plans,” she told Canada’s National Observer. 

May called Wilkinson’s acceptance “a veritable advertisement for the nuclear industry in Canada.”

Meanwhile, site selection for the deep geological repository to hold all of Canada’s intermediate and high-level nuclear waste will be decided in 2024.

The facility will be 500 metres underground, a depth roughly equivalent to the height of the CN Tower. Two sites are being looked at: one in South Bruce and another in northern Ontario near Ignace.

The underground repository is opposed by many First Nations in northern Ontario, with Nishnawbe Aski Nation, a political organization of over 50 First Nations, passing a resolution in 2022 against the proposed northern Ontario site.

However, Grand Council Treaty 3, an organization of Treaty 3 First Nations, has already made agreements with the Nuclear Waste Management Organization, which will develop the underground repository.

The Nuclear Waste Management Organization is also beginning to develop a new waste site for intermediate waste, such as pumps and filters, and non-fuel high-level waste derived from medical isotope production, Joshua Terry, Senior Communications Officer for the Nuclear Waste Management Organization told Canada's National Observer. It's unclear if the new facility will be another deep geological repository.

The Nuclear Waste Management Organization will begin the consent-based siting process for the intermediate waste site in the coming months. Communities involved in the siting process for the deep geological repository would have the opportunity to participate in consultations in the new site, but it is not required, Terry added.

— With files from Natasha Bulowski

Matteo Cimellaro / Canada’s National Observer / Local Journalism Initiative

Matteo Cimellaro, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter, Canada's National Observer

QUEBEC

Tattoo artist connects a new generation to North African Indigenous culture

CBC
Sun, October 8, 2023 

Tattoo artist Iness Aguin is completing her apprenticeship in Montreal, and tattoos clients using Amazigh symbols in her home studio in Laval, Que. (Fatima El Gahami - image credit)

Iness Aguin's tattoo studio isn't like most you'll find in the Montreal area.

The studio is inside her Laval, Que., apartment, and geometric figures adorn the wall. Among them, the yaz (ⵣ) stands out, symbolizing freedom in Amazigh culture.

The space is filled with plants, books and other art pieces. Lo-fi music plays in the background.

There's an aura of healing, which goes beyond any individual client. Aguin is working to revive a traditional North African Indigenous tattoo style rarely practised here, despite Montreal's large population from the region.

"I wanted to reconnect with my roots since little has been taught to me about my own identity," says Aguin.

The tattooed symbols hold deep meaning and are seen as healing and spiritually powerful in Amazigh culture.

A graduate of fine arts at Concordia University, Aguin, 27, orients her artistic career through her identity. She is Kabyle, a Indigenous group from northern Algeria, and she's seeking to reappropriate her people's cultural markers that colonial powers had sought to erase.

The Kabyle are one of the groups that make up the Amazigh, who for thousands of years have lived in the Maghreb region of Africa. The Amazigh are known for their connection with nature, and a language and culture that is distinct from the majority Arab population.

Aguin became fascinated by how Amazigh tribes were largely matriarchal, which further set them apart from the Arab and Western worlds. In 2019, she travelled to Algeria and asked elder women about the meaning of their tattoos and why they got them. It was her way to keep the oral tradition alive.

"They shared a sense of shame as not being modern, civilized and going against religious rules," she said.

Aguin learned about the meaning of some Amazigh symbols while visiting Algeria in 2019. (Fatima El Gahami)

She brought what she learned about the tattoo style and the symbols' meaning back to Montreal, where she is a tattoo artist apprentice. She sees the art form as a way to protect the next generation from further losing a connection to their Amazigh identity, as there is little knowledge of the symbolism outside of the region.

Through her research, she created a guide for her clients to better explain the meaning of each symbol. It's her way of ensuring the symbols aren't simply appropriated by anyone for aesthetic reasons.

In the 10 months she has been practising, she's been heartened by all the support she received from Montreal's North African diaspora.

"People were curious," she says. "They asked questions about the symbols, the culture and then showed up to my studio to get tattooed just like their elders."

Aguin has a tattoo on her arm symbolizing protection, reconnection with her ancestors and attracting good fortune in life. On her sternum are symbols representing feminine energy and sensuality.

Keeping culture alive

Before starting the creative process with her clients, Aguin gets a feel for what the person likes and learns their personal story to choose which symbols to incorporate.

"Some share a folkloric story, others were meant for medicinal purposes or symbolized a new transition in life, for example being married," she says of the symbols she's studied.

She then uses a tattoo pen to mimic the traditional technique of tattooing with a sharp object like a needle or knife injected with ink made of plants, coal or minerals.

Aguin tattoos Youmna Siagh in her home studio. (Fatima El Gahami)

Youmna Siagh, 20, became a loyal client of Aguin's after learning about her through her sister.

''I was amazed by what my sister got tattooed and wanted to keep my culture alive too," Siagh says.

Siagh is Moroccan and Amazigh on her father's side. Growing up, she wasn't in touch with her culture but was able to learn more, including about traditional tattoos, while visiting Morocco in 2020.

"I went from being a tourist to a local in my home country," Siagh says.

Siagh shows her new tattoo on her collar. It's a crab, symbolizing love and gentleness. (Fatima El Gahami)

She now proudly wears her Amazigh tattoos. Aguin tattooed a crab, signifying love and gentleness, along her collar and lined it with ornamental stars.

"Iness creates special pieces of art in the world for each person," Siagh says.

Aguin sees the highest interest from young adults. She says one client, a young Algerian man, asked her for tattoos similar to those of his grandfather. He said his grandfather was tattooed from head to toe as a way to resist French colonizers during the 1950s, even though the practice was usually reserved for women.

"His grandfather empowered women, made a statement on the battlefield and now his son carries the tradition," Aguin says.

She hopes to inspire Indigenous people like her to reconnect with their identity through any way they see fit.

"There are many ways to do so. Art is the way for me," she says, adding that she would love to tattoo Indigenous people in Canada, as they share a similar history of colonization.

"It would be empowerment as a collective."

Lack of funds forces Portugal Cove-St. Philip's horse therapy program to come to a halt

CBC
Mon, October 9, 2023 

Erin Gallant says Tinker was the horse that inspired her Portugal Cove-St. Philip's based equine therapy program. (Elizabeth Whitten/CBC - image credit)

For a decade, Stable Life has been offering its Spirit Horse program — free equine-assisted therapy and peer support — for those in need. But due to rising costs it's on hold while the organization looks for funding to help cover costs.

Program director Erin Gallant said it takes $150,000 to $200,000 a year to run the organization's Portugal Cove-St. Philip's facility.

"What we really need is core funding from the government, which we have put in a proposal for. As a not-for-profit we're always going to have to do fundraising," Gallant told CBC News in a recent interview.

"We've applied for our charitable status. We've laid a lot of good groundwork, but we really need immediate support from the government. We know that things take time."

The program offers horse therapy for people of all ages, from children to seniors. Gallant says they've also worked with the correctional justice system and other marginalization communities.

At the moment, Gallant said she's waiting to hear back from the provincial government after applying for $90,000 to cover staff costs.

A Department Health and Community Services spokesperson told CBC News in an email the funding proposal is under review.

She said stopping the program was a difficult decision to make. Stable Life is still offering some of their children's programs, which bring in money to feed the horses.

"But unfortunately we did have to lay off our staff, which is not the place we want it to be in."

Bailey the cat takes a nap on the back of Tinker. (Elizabeth Whitten/CBC)

The equine therapy program is popular, she said, with 170 people taking part in the program so far this year.

"Since 2020 we've serviced over 790 people and I'm sure that is on the lower end. That's just what we managed to remember to write down," she said with a laugh.

Fighting for funding

Gallant is going through the process of getting charitable status for Stable Life, which she said will make things easier for the organization. Businesses and other privately owned corporations might be more likely to make donations if they can get a tax receipt, she explained.

As an organization that routinely fundraises, she understands that the rising cost of living means people are more careful with their spending. People aren't donating to charities like they previously did, she said, and Stable Life isn't the only non-profit hurting.

"It seems like every not-for-profit is hurting. It is certainly not just ours," said Gallant.

Stable Life got a major financial lifeline in 2018 when it received $300,000 from the N.L. Beard and Moustache Club through its Merb'ys calendar fundraiser. Gallant said that money kept the group going for some time.

Gallant said they've also received money from the Red Cross, have a partnership with Violence Prevention Avalon East, and receive donations from family organizations. The Basil Dobbin Family Foundation has committed $100,000 for the next five years.

Whiz is another one of the horses at the farm where Gallant hosts Stable Life. (Elizabeth Whitten/CBC)

There are other grants out there, said Gallant, but said it feels like all the other non-profits are competing over them. Funding is crucial for mental health services because of their importance in keeping people healthy, she said.

"If you don't have a healthy workforce of people, you don't have people to go to those jobs. Everybody's mental health during the pandemic took a hit, and whether people realize it or not, they're going to end up traumatized. And all through COVID, we had people still coming here with us."

While the free equine program is on hold, Gallant said, the horses and barn are still standing.

"How we offer service might look a bit different. People can still come and visit so that there isn't that huge sense of loss that goes with when a service provision pauses. But, you know, it's still not the same."

TORONTO

West Queen West residents fear for future of rare, old elm locals use 'as GPS'

IT'S AN IMPORTANT HOME FOR BIRDS

AND OTHER URBAN FAUNA

CBC
Mon, October 9, 2023 

Adam Wynne of the Parkdale Village/Sunnyside Historical Society stands by the American elm, which he says dates to the 1870s. (Mike Smee/CBC - image credit)

West Queen West residents are struggling to protect what they say is one of the city's rarest trees: a 20-metre tall, 150-year-old American elm that has become a neighbourhood landmark.

There are concerns that increased development in the neighbourhood near Trinity Bellwoods Park could damage the tree's branches or root system if the city doesn't act quickly, says Adam Wynne of the Parkdale Village/Sunnyside Historical Society.

"To have an American elm this size in downtown Toronto is incredibly rare and is, I think, worthy of protection," he said. "It's like finding a woolly mammoth in downtown Toronto."

For years, Wynne says the city has ignored his efforts to have the tree given special protection via a heritage designation.

It is more important than ever to protect the elm tree on Fennings Street, north of Queen, Wynne said, because more than 90 per cent of the deciduous trees died off by the 1960s because of Dutch elm disease.

"It's absolutely magnificent," Wynne said. "It's loved by people all around this area."


Robert Sysak, head of the West Queen West BIA, recalls playing tag with his brother at the tree when he was a child. (Paul Smith/CBC)

In an email to CBC Toronto, city staff say they're monitoring the elm and treating it to ensure it doesn't develop Dutch elm disease. However, staff in the urban forestry department say they've never been asked by anyone in the community for the elm to be formally recognized as a heritage tree through Forests Ontario.

Wynne disputes that, saying that over the course of several years, and as recently as last February, he's asked the city's heritage planning department to have the Fennings Street elm designated an Ontario Heritage Act (OHA) heritage tree — a more direct route than through Forests Ontario — and those requests have been ignored.

CBC Toronto has viewed multiple emails from Wynne to the city, which received replies thanking him for his input. The city has not yet responded to CBC Toronto inquiries asking them to address Wynne's concerns.

Adam Wynne of the historical society, says the tree could be designated by the city through its heritage planning office, but so far he's had no reply to his inquiries. (Paul Smith/CBC)

Only 15 trees have heritage status in Toronto, according to the city's website. But this elm could be the 16th. Since CBC Toronto first asked, city staff say they have now applied to Forests Ontario to have the tree recognized.

With status, a tree is protected by the city's tree bylaw from being damaged or removed without council's approval. However, the city could make this designation itself through the OHA directly, without needing to wait on Forests Ontario.

According to the city's website, a heritage tree must be at least one of the following:

"A living relic that displays evidence of cultural modification by Aboriginal or non-Aboriginal people.


.A prominent community landmark.


A specimen associated with a historic person, place, event or period.


A representative of a crop grown by ancestors and their successors that is at risk of disappearing from cultivation.


A tree associated with local folklore, myths, legends, or traditions."

The Fennings Street elm ticks several of those boxes, according to Robert Sysak, executive director of the West Queen West BIA.

A passerby enjoys lunch under the old elm. Locals say the tree is a favourite spot to stop and chat. (Mike Smee/CBC)

"It's just part of the neighbourhood, part of the memories," said Sysak, who spent his childhood in the area.

"My brother and I would play tag and it would be like, 'the first one here wins'," he said, while standing beside the elm.

"Sadly now I have congestive heart failure; it's not easy to walk without getting some shade. I come here, get a coffee, sit and talk."

Multiple ways tree could be protected, locals say

Sysak says he and his organization support Wynne's efforts to protect the elm.

"It's the history of our neighbourhood," he said. "We're losing too many of those kinds of things and natural history is just as important as the physical history."

Wynne says the tree would be protected regardless of how it receives heritage designation — be it through Forests Ontario, the OHA, or by being incorporated into another heritage designation. However, he says time is of the essence.

"We see so many trees that die in downtown Toronto after construction," he said. "Having it recognized as a heritage tree would mitigate that."

Benj Hellie, of the Ossington Community Association, calls the tree "an alpha vegetable on the landscape." He's pushing to have the city give the tree special protection more quickly. (Paul Smith/CBC)

One option is the tree could be included as a heritage asset within the broader West Queen West Heritage Conservation District, a designation that has been in planning stages for about eight years.

The Ossington Community Association treasurer, Benj Hellie, believes it should be.

"That tree is really magnificent .... you can see it for blocks and it has an absolutely perfect rounded canopy," he said. "People on Fennings Street have used it almost as a GPS for generations."

Hellie says the old elm could benefit once the West Queen West designation comes to pass, as it would put special restrictions on development in the area.

Will the tree get heritage designation in time?

But he worries that developers' demands could hinder the elm's path to special protection.

"The city's been under a regime of develop, develop, develop," he said. "There's a parking lot right in front of (the elm). It's on a corner. It's on Queen Street, and there's a real initiative to take lands like these and open them up for significant mid-rise intensification."

If that happens, Hellie says he worries the tree could be sacrificed.

If the area does intensify, he says, "it can't be done in a way that's healthy for this magnificent tree. This tree is an alpha vegetable on the landscape."

While the city has now said it's applying for Forests Ontario designation, it's unclear how long that process will take and what might happen to the tree in the meantime.

BC

Last surviving member of historic train crew gets special viewing of documentary for his 100th birthday

CBC
Mon, October 9, 2023

Colten Wilke, producer of The Last Stop: Canada’s Lost Locomotive, left, speaks with Bill Chapman during a special screening of the documentary in Penticton, B.C. (Brady Strachan/CBC - image credit)

As part of his 100th birthday celebration, Bill Chapman got the chance to travel about 75 years back in time, into the depths of B.C. history.

Chapman is a Penticton, B.C., resident who hit the century mark on Saturday.

Back on Jan. 1, 1947, he was working as a brakeman on CP Rail steam locomotive No. 3512. Chapman was part of a crew that was shipping the train across a section of Slocan Lake in the B.C. Interior, about 700 kilometres east of Vancouver.

In an unexpected turn of events, the locomotive, its tender and its caboose tipped off a barge attached to the boat and plunged to the bottom of the lake, which, in its deepest spots, is measured at 300 metres.

The cable that linked the barge to the boat had to be cut to keep the boat from being dragged under, and the train assembly was never found.

A team of filmmakers recently completed a documentary about the incident, and a search to find the sunken No. 3512. It's called The Last Stop: Canada's Lost Locomotive. Chapman appears in the film and, with family members surrounding him, he was treated to a home-viewing of it one day last week.

Producer Colten Wilke, right, Bill Chapman and members of his family watch The Last Stop: Canada’s Lost Locomotive, in Penticton, B.C.

Producer Colten Wilke, right, Bill Chapman and members of his family watch The Last Stop: Canada’s Lost Locomotive, in Penticton, B.C. (Brady Strachan/CBC)

The special screening was courtesy of producer Colten Wilke and other members of his team, and it left Chapman — the lone surviving member of the train crew — marvelling at the big-screen telling of the CP 3512 story.

"I don't know how to express it, but it's quite exciting," Chapman said in an interview with CBC.

"You've done a very nice job, a very good job," he said to Wilke.

"It's very interesting. It brings back memories."

A key member of the expedition

Aside from being a filmmaker, Wilke is a professional diver and a commercial fisherman. According to information released about The Last Stop, the legend of the lost locomotive had long fascinated him, so he put together an expedition to find it.

The filmed venture begins with expedition members searching limited local records and doing a logistical survey of Slocan Lake.

Things kick into high gear when Wilke discovers there is a surviving crew member, Chapman, who joins the team and provides first-hand accounts that point to a general search area.

Members of the Chapman family watch The Last Stop: Canada’s Lost Locomotive, in Penticton, B.C. Members of the Chapman family watch The Last Stop: Canada’s Lost Locomotive. The filmed venture begins with expedition members searching limited local records and doing a logistical survey of Slocan Lake. (Brady Strachan/CBC)

'It gives me tingles'

The Last Stop premiered at Cinéfest Sudbury in September, and Wilke told CBC a gasp went through the sold-out theatre when Chapman appeared on screen.

"They almost took the air out of the room," Wilke said.

"They just weren't expecting it."

The special viewing at the home of one of Chapman's relatives marked the first time Chapman himself had seen the finished product. Daughters Sue Chapman and Elaine Kosma, son Tom Chapman, and other family members were also seeing the film for the first time.

"It gives me tingles to think that was my dad as a young man, and also how close it all came to me not being here," Sue Chapman said after watching The Last Stop.

"It makes us think about him as a young man and the work that he did in that era, and the dangers. Dad goes to work and we think not too much of it, and this really brings it home."

For Bill Chapman, watching the film was a reminder of that fateful moment all those years ago, and just how different things used to be for railroad workers.

"It was quite an experience, the whole thing," he said.

"A lot of people don't realize what was going on in those days."

Wilke said the film has "gotten a lot of interest" and that distribution opportunities "are in the works."

Cemetery that tells of Halifax's naval history hides in plain sight


CBC
Mon, October 9, 2023 

The grave marker for William Shawyer, who died falling from a ship's mast, is shown at the Royal Naval Burying Ground in Halifax. (Craig Paisley/CBC - image credit)

A small cemetery in the heart of Halifax tells the story of the city in its earlier days — yet few people know about it.

The Royal Naval Burying Ground opened in 1783 as an adjunct to a new naval hospital completed on the waterfront that same year.

At the time, Halifax was the centre of British naval operations for North America and the Caribbean. It was known as the Halifax Station.

The first recorded burial at the cemetery was in 1791, the last in 1910.

Today, it sits at the edge of what is now CFB Stadacona, in full view of thousands of people driving by on busy Barrington Street or coming into the city on the Angus L. Macdonald Bridge.

The burying ground provides a snapshot of the naval history of Halifax. (Galan McRae/CBC)

The cemetery is open to the public, but has few visitors, said Tom Tulloch, an honorary director of the Halifax Military Heritage Preservation Society.

Tulloch, who served 37 years in the Royal Canadian Navy, said the cemetery's location is a major reason it remains an undiscovered treasure.

He said it may be the only dedicated naval cemetery in Canada.

Describing it as a "magnificent place," Tulloch said it encapsulates a period of history that saw a large number of wars and conflicts.

Tom Tulloch, who served 37 years in the Royal Canadian Navy, is an honorary director of the Halifax Military Heritage Preservation Society. (Vernon Ramesar/CBC)

"People drive past it because it's on the base and a lot of people, I think, are intimidated by the fact that it is on the base and they don't really know how to gain access to it," Tulloch said. "It is a phenomenal historical site."

He said most of the people buried there were ordinary Royal Navy seamen, their family members and workers from the naval yard.

Although there have been an estimated 1,000 burials in the small stretch of land, there are only about 80 grave markers visible.

Tulloch said many of the people who died at the military hospital would have had very simple burials at the cemetery.

In 1809, vice-admiral John Borlase Warren, the commander of the Halifax Station, wrote to the Admiralty deploring the way in which burials were carried out there.

"The Interment of such persons as die in the Hospital at this place is performed without any ceremony and in a very improper manner inconsistent with the rules of Decency which should be observed in such an Establishment, and with the religious attentions which ought to be paid to the remains of the Dead," he said.

There are an estimated 1,000 people buried in the cemetery, but only about 80 grave markers visible. (Craig Paisley/CBC)

Most of these unceremonious burials would have had basic wooden crosses as markers that have disappeared with the passage of time, Tulloch said. Time has also taken its toll on many of the stone monuments, with inscriptions severely weathered.

The absence of markers is also a testament to one of the most traumatic events in the history of the city — the Halifax Explosion.

On Dec. 6, 1917, the Norwegian vessel IMO and the French cargo ship Mont-Blanc collided in the narrow passage connecting the Bedford Basin to Halifax harbour.

The Mont-Blanc was carrying explosives and the resulting blast killed and injured thousands of people and levelled parts of the city.

The burying ground is only about a kilometre away from the epicentre of the explosion.

The centuries have taken a toll on many of the grave markers and most of the wooden ones have been destroyed by the weather. (Craig Paisley/CBC)

With nothing to shield the area from the blast, Tulloch said many of the grave markers were blown away. Blast debris also became embedded in the ground, he said, which means that today ground-penetrating radar cannot be used to locate the precise location and number of graves.

The Halifax Naval Museum is located in a 200-year-old building at the base and provides a wealth of records related to the cemetery.

Museum archivist Lisa McNiven said many of the people whose names are on markers are not actually buried in the cemetery but were instead memorialized there after dying at sea.

The Royal Naval Burying Ground was opened in 1783 to accommodate deaths at a hospital that opened nearby the same year. (Paul Pourier/CBC)

"A lot of stones that are placed down there are in tribute to young men that had passed either falling from topsails, yellow fever [or] cholera," McNiven said.

"Their crew members are coming together and putting a headstone … so that they are memorialized and remembered."

In fact, a surprising number of markers list the cause of death as falling from a mast or "falling from aloft."

War of 1812

Two of the most impressive monuments, just inside the main gate of the cemetery, commemorate dozens of crew members who died in the battle between the Royal Navy frigate HMS Shannon and USS Chesapeake during the War of 1812.

After an intense engagement off Boston on June 1, 1813 — which lasted only 15 minutes — HMS Shannon captured the American frigate and brought it back to Halifax harbour where it was met by cheering crowds.

During the battle, the Chesapeake's wounded captain, James Lawrence, famously said "don't give up the ship," an instruction his crew were ultimately unable to follow.

Lisa McNiven is the archivist at the Naval Museum of Halifax. (Vernon Ramesar/CBC)

The monument to the Shannon, erected a few decades after the battle, lists the names of some of the 23 crew members killed.

The Chesapeake monument was erected in the 1960s and lists the names of the 50 crew members who died in the battle.

Lawrence, the Chesapeake's captain, died of his wounds, but because he was of a higher rank, he was initially buried at the Old Burying Ground in Halifax.

A memorial to crew members of HMS Shannon who died during its encounter with USS Chesapeake in 1813 is seen inside the cemetery. (Craig Paisley/CBC)

His remains were eventually reinterred at Trinity Church and Burying Ground in New York City.

McNiven said the museum offers educational tours that give people a sense of the importance of the base and the significance of the Royal Naval Burying Ground.

She said anyone wishing to visit the cemetery should contact the Naval Museum. CFB Stadacona requires photo identification to enter.

How a Mount A student is saving birds from injury or death, one window at a time


CBC
Mon, October 9, 2023 

Mount Allison University's Barclay Building now has small stickers on the glass entryway to reduce bird collisions. (Submitted by Mount Allison University - image credit)

Students at Mount Allison University in Sackville might notice something different on campus this fall.

On the glass entryway of the Barclay Building, on the southeastern New Brunswick campus, circular stickers are placed five centimetres apart in an attempt to reduce bird collisions.

It's an initiative that was led by fourth-year biology student Mackenzie Warman, whose honours research specifically focuses on shorebirds.

"I've had the opportunity to take many courses, one specifically on science communication, and so I felt it was important to begin raising awareness about ways to reduce window collisions," she said.

Mackenzie Warman is a fourth-year honours biology student at Mount Allison University. She was concerned about the number of birds dying on campus from colliding with clear windows, so she tweeted a call to action for her school. (Submitted by Mackenzie Warman)

The stickers make the area visible to birds, so they won't try flying through it, causing injury or death.

According to the Government of Canada's website, since glass isn't a natural material, birds don't understand that reflections of trees or the sky aren't real. So, if they see something like the sky reflected in the glass, they will try to access it.

Warman said the first week of October is an especially important time to have these stickers in place because it's fall migration for migratory species.

Her interest began last year during spring migration when an American woodcock, a type of shorebird, hit a window on campus and was stunned. It later died when she tried to take it to the Atlantic Wildlife Institute for care.

The next day, she said an American robin crashed into a window and died on campus.

After two days in a row of bird fatalities, Warman knew she had to do something, so she tweeted a call to action for the university to do something about the problem.

That was when she heard from Jennifer Tomes, the dean of science, and a plan was set in motion.

The Barclay entrance at Mount Allison is now covered in hundreds of tiny stickers to reduce bird collisions. Warman hopes this will expand to other parts of campus. (Submitted by Mackenzie Warman)

Tomes said because Warman was so passionate about the project, she was given the task of finding appropriate solutions to the problem.

After Warman did some research and brought some solutions to the table, Tomes said various factors were taken into consideration, such as cost and the ease of the fix.

"Certainly one of the other options would be to replace with bird-friendly glass. But that's a lot of work. That's a lot of money," Tomes said.

"Whereas these stickers that are specially designed to decrease the likelihood of a bird window strike, are really quite easy to install, and at a good price point," she said.

But Tomes said that bird-friendly glass is being considered for any future renovations, including a library project that is underway. She said facilities management is already talking to the architects about installing bird-friendly glass.

Another part of the project involves facilities management tracking dead birds found on campus. The data will go into a spreadsheet for Warman to monitor, so she'll know what the most affected areas on campus are.

Warman said with any new builds or window installation, the number one thing that should be taken into consideration is how it will affect the ecosystem.

"When you think about it, they were all here before us. This campus is new in relation to the ecosystem. And so birds haven't had the chance to evolve and figure out that, 'oh, this reflective window is something that I can't actually go through,'" said Warman.

Jennifer Tomes, the dean of science at Mount Allison, said another part of the project involves facilities management tracking dead birds found on campus. (Submitted by Jennifer Tomes)

"So it's on us to begin to make our buildings bird-friendly and bird safe."

The cost-effective stickers can be easily used by anyone, said Warman, including homeowners, along with other easy solutions like fly screens on the outside of the windows.

As part of her project to educate people about bird collisions, Warman will be attending the Sackville Farmers Market for the next few weeks to talk about methods of prevention.

Small bird collision stickers were used for the entire entrance of the Barclay building at Mount Allison. Warman will be attending the Sackville Farmers Market for the next few weeks to talk about prevention methods. (Submitted by Mackenzie Warman)

Warman said while it's amazing to see the stickers up and it's a great accomplishment, she said it's the momentum the campus needs to start targeting other areas.

"We've done this small step, but there's still many other steps and places on campus that we can still work towards being completely bird safe," she said.

"But I think Mount Allison definitely has the room to be a leader in making universities bird friendly in Atlantic Canada."

Newfoundland's Petrel Patrol helps stranded birds get back on the wing

CBC
Sun, October 8, 2023 

Biologist Sabina Wilhelm works for the Canadian Wildlife Service. She is a member of the Petrels Patrol, which helps bring stranded birds back to their migration course. (Darrell Roberts/CBC - image credit)

A group of volunteers called Petrel Patrol is scooping up stranded birds in the Avalon Peninsula and pointing them back to their migration route.

As petrels follow their traditional migration route from the shores of Newfoundland to the coast of Africa, some — especially young birds — get disoriented by winds and light pollution, winding up on roads and in people's driveways, says Sabina Wilhelm, a biologist with the Canadian Wildlife Service.

"It's a long way to go, and unfortunately, due to those environmental conditions, they need a bit of extra help to get back on course," said Wilhelm. September and October are when the patrol tends to find stranded birds, she said.

"Most of the birds that we find stranded come from Baccalieu Island, which is the largest colony in the world. There are two million pairs breeding on Baccalieu Island."

When the young birds leave the island, they often fly over the Avalon Peninsula, she said, which is why the patrol finds them stranded in the area around St. John's, Mount Pearl and Holyrood.

When petrels are found, the Petrels Patrol intervenes to guide them back onto their route.

Petrels are small birds with black feathers and white bumps. They have a hooked bill with an extra tube on top and web-like feet like a seabird. In terms of personality, Wilhelm says, they are timid and gentle birds.

"If you see one on the ground, you'll find out that you can just walk up to it and pick it up. They're not really trying to escape. They're very, very gentle birds."

Storm petrels can become stranded off their course due to strong winds and light pollution. Biologists say that their largest colony is located on Baccalieu Island, just off the coast of the Avalon Peninsula. Storm petrels can find themselves off course due to strong winds and light pollution. Biologists say their largest colony is located on Baccalieu Island, just off the coast of the Avalon Peninsula. (Darrell Roberts/CBC)

The eyesight of young birds isn't fully developed, and they're sensitive to light pollution from cities and towns and winds that push them off course.

Anyone who finds a petrel should put it gently in a box for safety and call the Canadian Wildlife Service or the Rock Wildlife Rescue, says Wilhelm. Volunteers will pick up the birds to be measured for research on the health of their population, she said.

Then, when evening falls, the volunteers take the birds to a shore like Ragged Beach, where they're released. The hour of the day is important to prevent gulls from eating them, she says.

"Essentially, you just put them on your hand and extend your hand towards the ocean. Then they decide when they're ready to leave," she said.

"Some of them fly off right away, while others need a few minutes to figure out where they are and realize that the ocean is there before fluttering off. So it's a very beautiful experience."

ONTARIO

'Attila' documentary exposes tragic reality of homelessness, mental health crisis

"Everyone needs to chip in and understand these issues around mental illness, addiction, homelessness and abuse," Richard Csanyi said


Elisabetta Bianchini

Sat, October 7, 2023 

In 2020, 28-year-old Attila Csanyi was found dead on a rooftop in Hamilton, Ont., after missing for weeks.

Shortly after his death, his twin brother Richard Csanyi, and childhood friend and filmmaker Stephen Hosier, began making a documentary together, titled Attila. It's an emotional, intimate, honest and eye-opening look the reality of homelessness, the opioid crisis and barriers to access to mental health support.

Attila is making its premiere Oct. 10, on the 75th anniversary of World Mental Health Day, at the Hot Docs Ted Rogers Cinema in Toronto. Tickets are pay what you can and include a post-screening discussion featuring palliative care physician and health justice activist Dr. Naheed Dosani, CEO of the Schizophrenia Society of Canada, Chris Summerville, and community and crisis worker Diana Chan McNally. All proceeds will go towards Workman Arts, to support artists who have experienced issues with mental health and addiction.

Childhood trauma in foster care

While Attila is an incredibly personal story for both the film's lead participate and the filmmaker, it was actually Csanyi himself who brought up the possibility of Hosier making a documentary about the circumstances of his brother's death.

"It never really crossed my mind that there may be a possibility that he had died," Hosier told Yahoo Canada. "It was pretty devastating to hear that."

"In that same phone call, Richard started sharing a little bit about the struggles he had getting Attila the help he needed in the years prior. It had taken several years for him to get Attila a [schizophrenia] diagnosis, as his mental health deteriorated. He struggled to get him adequate housing. Richard also started sharing a little bit more about their experience in foster care, between six years old and eight years old, and some pretty horrific abuse they suffered. How that clearly had lifelong, lasting effects on Attila. He said, '[Steve] you could really make a documentary or a film out of our story.'"

Attila provides a window into both the childhood years of the brothers, in addition to their adult life. That includes Csanyi opening up about how he and his late brother were put in a terrifyingly abusive foster home as kids. While the details that Csanyi recalls in the documentary are incredibly disturbing, he also identified that since he first mentioned the circumstances to Hosier as children, the now filmmaker "held on to the secret."

"Steve did pretty good ... not telling anyone and not being judgmental, and throughout the years our friendship just grew because of it," Csanyi said. "I didn't really have a difficult time sharing with Steve."

"It's still something that's hard to talk about or to discuss. It's not something that I really wanted to share with the world. But ... I'm still seeking answers for it. I'm still seeking justice and I felt like the film would be a great platform to start getting people asking questions, and reaching out to other people who experienced the same form of trauma."

Richard Csanyi in documentary Attila

'If he could have only gotten the support he needed, ... he'd still be here'

While Attila also addresses several circumstances that led to Csanyi's brother being expelled from a long-term care residence, managing schizophrenia and grappling with addiction, Hosier also very beautifully tells a true human story.

A particularly touching moment is when Csanyi speaks to people on Hamilton streets who knew his brother, and they shared how much they loved him and how kind he always was to them, and others.

"He always made friends quite easily," Csanyi said. "I knew that he had people on the streets to talk to, but it still felt like he had no place to go. ... He was quite lost."

"Throughout the film, I kind of realized that even though he was living on the streets, people admired him and loved him. When we were searching for him, I had a number of people on Facebook saying, 'Oh I spotted your brother throughout the years. He'd come in and apply for a job, or he would be picking up garbage off the streets,' and that's basically just the type of person he was. He was always trying to help others and I just feel bad that he wasn't able to get the help that he needed."

"He was just an amazing athlete and really charismatic," Hosier added. "Despite his descent into schizophrenia, I think he maintained that charisma."

The filmmaker also includes footage from home movies that he used to make with the Csanyi twins when they were kids, featuring all the "shenanigans" they would get up to.

"In many ways it brought back a lot of good memories, but on the other hand, it was also very sad at times to think, what a tragic loss," Hosier said. "If he could have only gotten the support he needed, that Richard tried so long and hard to get him, he'd still be here."

"I really wish I took for more videos and I'm happy that Steve did, because it's something that I always hold on to and look back on," Csanyi added. "I still cry over it and ... it gives him a little bit of a personality."

'People just viewed him as someone crazy'

For anyone who watches Attila, Csanyi hopes the documentary can make a positive impact on how people think about and interact with those experiencing homelessness.

"With Attila, for example, he kept getting kicked out of restaurants and public places because people believed he was strange and out of order, and that he didn't belong," Csanyi said. "People just viewed him as someone crazy and that's not a label that I want to put on anyone."

"Homelessness has become a crisis. ... There are many more people who are being forced onto the streets. We usually point fingers and say, 'it's their own fault,' but really it's a community effort. Everyone needs to chip in and understand these issues around mental illness, addiction, homelessness and abuse. Maybe if we ask the right questions, there could be answers to all of this."

Hosier added that he hopes people get a better understanding of the severity of the circumstances that lead to homelessness and addiction.

"It's my hope that people who watch the film and support the film ... get a better understanding of the life that some of these people live, and the experiences they've had, in many cases going right back to childhood," Hosier said. "I heard an interesting quote recently, to try to better understand people on the streets just picture that person as a small child, ... it gives you a bit more empathy."

"I think that especially goes for people like Attila, or people on the street living homeless, or perhaps having some sort of manic-type episode on the street. Instead of just writing them off as being crazy and wishing they would just go away or disappear, maybe just try to picture that individual as a small child. ... My hope is that people just have a better understanding and more insight into what life events and consequences can lead to things like homelessness, mental illness, and in Attila's case, being found dead on a rooftop. It's just heartbreaking."

Failure to invest in Indigenous youth aging out of care could cost economy billions, report says

CBC
Wed, October 11, 2023 

Frontline worker Cassandra St. Germain was cut off two years earlier than expected from an Alberta program that supports youth aging out of care. (Cassandra St. Germain - image credit)

Failure to improve programs for Indigenous youth adults transitioning out of government care could cost the Canadian economy billions, warns a new report from the Conference Board of Canada.

In the recently released report, Empowering Indigenous Youth in Care as They Transition to Adulthood: Critical Actions for Philanthropy and Policy, researchers call on policymakers to rethink guidelines for eligibility "to ensure that youth get the support they need during critical life transitions."

"Children who spend time in care fall behind in various areas of well-being and development. These effects continue to limit their opportunities and outcomes long into adulthood, which together impact economic growth and incur costs on government," the report states.

"Age cut-offs are incongruous with developmental realities and do more harm than good. By expanding the criteria for program eligibility beyond age, policymakers can create more inclusive and effective programs for Indigenous youth."

Using two different economic modelling scenarios, the report projects revenue loss in areas including income tax, earnings, and social assistance payments.

"The report found that if investments weren't made in education, employment and mental health supports for Indigenous youth aging out of foster care over the next five years, it could cost the Canadian economy anywhere between $2 billion and $5.5 billion," said Amanda Thompson, report co-author and researcher.

Youth advocate Penny Frazier urged the Alberta government to reinstate full supports for youth up to 25 aging out of care. (Penny Frazier)

In Alberta, UCP government announced it would scale back the age of eligibility from 24 to 22 for the Support and Financial Assistance Agreements (SFAA) in 2019, though the policy wasn't implemented for a few years due to a court challenge.

The move cut off hundreds of Indigenous youth two years earlier than expected from benefits such as rent, day care and groceries while they finished school.

Edmontonian Cassandra St. St. Germain, 27, a frontline worker, who grew up in Alberta's foster care system, experienced cuts to the SFAA program first hand.

St. Germain had just turned 22 when she was informed by phone that she would lose her SFAA benefits two years earlier than expected.

Fortunately, said St. Germain, she was already working and had a good support system in place that equipped her with the skills many of her peers lack, to access resources that "are not actually as accessible and easy to navigate as they seem superficially."

"So it wasn't such a blow to me. But I know other people who have become homeless and have ended up on the streets because of [cuts to SFAA]," St. Germain said.

"What's really shocking to me is just seeing how young the faces are getting that are approaching us for help, and how little resources there are for it."

Investing more in Albertans exiting the child welfare system is essential, according to Penny Frazier, long-time youth advocate and editor of Zine & Heard, a monthly publication that amplifies the voices of youth in Alberta's child welfare system.

She points to the daunting odds former foster kids are up against — 200 times more likely to become homeless, and much more likely to struggle with addiction, and to be trafficked or sexually exploited.

The cut to SFAA sparked a legal battle that delayed changes to the program by more than a year.

As hundreds of SFAA participants lost their benefits, the province introduced the Transition to Adulthood Program (TAP) in 2022, touting it as a way to help more youth transition smoothly out of care.

Frazier says unlike SFAA, TAP does not provide support for rent, groceries, clothing, bus passes and day are. Also missing, said Frazier, is the ongoing relationship with a social worker, who can be like a parental figure for youth in care.

She urged the province to reinstate the full range of benefits up to the age of 25, noting British Columbia and Ontario have recently expanded their programs.

"That can make the difference between them attending school, getting a job, getting the help they need for their mental illness or for their addiction, for gathering those skills they need to live on their own," Frazier said.

The province has not yet provided comment to CBC News.

The report also found that strengthening education and mental health for Indigenous youth aging out of care across Canada could increase their total lifetime income by an estimated $1.1 billion.

"While youth in the general population typically benefit from family supports in their pursuit of a post-secondary education, youth aging out of foster care lose access to their supports," the report said.