The years spent in university are often said to be those where we first come face-to-face with the “real world”, characterized by a transitioning period from teenage angst, to even more angst, to grappling with who we are and, finally, shaking hands with the real world as the person we want to be. A myriad of experiences will come together to shape us into this person. It does not happen overnight, nor will it happen easily, but each of these experiences is vital in challenging us to discover who we really are.
The key word here is challenge. Highlight this word. Cut out this word. Be friends with this word. Because to overcome something that you are afraid of is to be able to look back and say, “I persevered, and now my mark is here.”
And these people who have left their mark, despite challenges, are all around us. Some write about it, some talk about it, some wait for the right moment before discussing it at all. McMaster University is the home to a plethora of individuals with such stories. But the story of Lisa Pope is one we are privileged enough to share with you, and, in fact, it’s not so much a story as it is an invitation to challenge yourself.
Lisa Pope, a graduating Honours Life Sciences student, dedicated her summer to the Kalu Yala Independent Study Abroad and Entrepreneurial Internships in Panama this past summer. Drawing people from across the world, Lisa was one of the only individuals from Canada. This diversity, however, encouraged the integration of distinct ideas that could build towards the common goal that was uniting them all: the creation of Kalu Yala, and thus developing the world’s most sustainable town.
The program is incredibly unique among international outreach initiatives in that it gives each team member an opportunity to be highly independent in how they choose to take part in the creation of Kalu Yala. Lisa was a member of the Agriculture team, made up of thirty students who came to get their hands just about as dirty as an outreach program can get them. Living in a jungle for three months, all while putting in both labour of the body and mind into a personally developed initiative, can take physical and psychological tolls on any team member. Lisa, however, took on a challenge perhaps more brutal than the typical member due to a recent diagnosis with symptoms of Crohn’s disease,
Crohn’s disease is an inflammatory bowel disease, where those affected are subject to severe abdominal pain, bowel disruptions, and even malnutrition. Given the strenuous nature of this program, another set of challenges could appear more repellent than enticing; instead of allowing her symptoms to hold her back, Lisa used her pain as a catalyst for unparalleled personal growth.
“I’m 23 years old living with a chronic disease and it’s something that’s never going to go away,” said Pope. “At this point, you decide to live your life or not, and this was my summer to do that. I decided to go and be in control of my disease.” In a location far removed from any Western world comforts or distractions, Lisa delved into a project that would eventually lead to a 75-page document, building a vast medicinal garden with her own hands, and leaving behind her own mark in a community that will forever leave an indelible imprint on her.
By planting over 300 different edible species of plants and trees, the impact her project will have upon the community in ten, or even five years, is momentous. Approximately 150 people will be fed daily as a result of her own hardships and hard work. And yet, perhaps the most striking message Lisa has taken home with her is not only the acceptance of failure at Kalu Yala, but also the desire for it.
“We love to fail at Kula Yala,” Pope said. Coming from a Science degree, where marks are snatched up without a second thought for any mistakes, and there is no gray area between the black and white of correct or wrong, this was a breath of fresh air. To fail was to succeed, and this paradoxical message can resonate with most students as wholly liberating. With failure, the members of Kalu Yala would not look at such a position as the defeated finish line, but rather an opportunity to start again, and allotting their knowledge of what won’t work as a propelling force towards success.
“If that means shooting for the stars and failing, that’s fine,” said Pope. “We shot for the stars and we realized that didn’t work so well, so we just have to figure out what we can do next time to make it better.”
In an eight-hour day, with four spent in the morning working alongside a director of the team, and the afternoon dedicated to the dirty work, there were three unmistakable qualities of the interns at Kalu Yala Independent Study Abroad and Entrepreneurial Internships: passionate, positive, and pursuing. Lisa Pope is an embodiment of such qualities, and although her self-proclaimed “invisible disease” has inevitably placed a series of unforgiving obstacles in her path, these qualities are in the foundation of the new path she’s building herself.
Every path a student will take in university is distinct from the next, and the obstacles just as varied, but the lesson to be taken from Lisa Pope and Kalu Yala is that no challenge can act as a barrier to leaving your mark in the world, but that challenges are forces that will leave your mark even more palpable.
McMaster's Health Science Faculty Loses Mass Funding
Jaslyn English
McMaster University has lost more than 15 per cent of its research dollars in the past year, totaling up to a $100 million loss of funding within the city of Hamilton.
The research in the Faculty of Health Sciences relies on pharmaceutical companies for the majority of its funding and in recent years, the companies’ interest in the University’s research has plummeted.
Since the pharmaceutical industry provides approximately 90 per cent of research funding for this sector of the University, this is a huge setback for McMaster’s research capabilities.
Joel Lexchin, a professor of Health Policy and Management at York University, was quoted in the Hamilton Spectator saying that pharmaceutical companies have halved the dollars going to research and development in Canada.
The Spectator quoted Dr. Salim Yusuf, a professor in the Department of Medicine at McMaster as saying, “We’ve had one of our worst years financially,”
The main reason for the drop in funds, besides a steadily decreasing investment from pharmaceutical companies in general, is that three multi-million dollar Hamilton-led drug studies have been shut down for safety concerns.
It would appear that McMaster and the Health Sciences Faculty have been adversely affected by the funding cuts, considering it was the only university in the top six national research earners to lose funding.
Though McMaster still maintains its rank as sixth nationally on Re$earch Infosource Inc, a reporting site that tracks research and development dollars in universities across Canada, it was also the only university in the top six to lose any funding.
Similarly, four of the five top hospitals lost money, but Hamilton Health Sciences was hit the hardest.
In Jan. 2012, the provincial Liberal government scrapped $42 million in university research grants, which halted research progress across Ontario even before the lack of pharmaceutical companies’ interest was realized this year.
Although the cuts to research grants may be significant, it takes constant long-term depreciation before a loss in funding is felt by research institutions such as those housed in Health Sciences.
“If this were to be a longer term trend over two to four years, then yes, it would have an impact,” said Marvin Ryder, an assistant professor of marketing at McMaster.
A potential loss of student research jobs and a diminished interest in the research done by the Health Sciences faculty can mean lack of funding which has further repercussions for students and faculty.
Dr. Yusuf stated with confidence that it is “a temporary blip” and that the university will “bounce back.”
Despite the optimistic climate, it is clear that next year’s research, coupled with results of the impending provincial election, will have a significant impact on Health Sciences research capabilities and the overall research intensity of the institution.
While many McMaster students participated in homecoming festivities on Oct. 13, a dedicated few considered issues beyond Hamilton’s horizons in the Health Sciences Centre.
The annual Talk Change Conference was hosted at McMaster this year, organized by the University’s chapter of Smart Solutions. The club, part of an inter-university network, is focused on developing innovative and sustainable solutions to global development problems. McMaster’s chapter is still in its infancy, but was nonetheless chosen to play host for this fall’s conference.
“The actual Talk Change event has been present for the past couple years, and we knew that McMaster was hosting,” explained Nithin Vignesh, co-president of McMaster Smart Solutions. “What we didn’t know was that it was going to be this early in the school year.”
The theme for the conference was global health. The executive invited a range of speakers familiar with diverse facets of global health.
Dr. Katherine Rouleau of St. Michael’s Hospital, who is director of the Global Health Program at the University of Toronto, was among the speakers at the event.
“Every time I accept an invitation like [this] ... I really hope it’s worth my time,” Dr. Rouleau said. “But I have to tell you, today I am so happy I’m here.”
Her morning workshop was well attended, and the topic of primary care and community-based medicine seemed to engage the audience.
“The caliber of question, of insight, of understanding of the students is spectacular,” she said, after exceeding her time limit to field questions. “These are well-informed, open-minded, critical [students] … who are clearly quite committed to the essence of global health.”
Dr. Rouleau, as well as the other speakers and workshop leaders, were chosen based on survey results from students.
“Our education directors… put out a survey about topics that they [felt] students may be interested in…and we got a list of topics that we could potentially use,” said Vignesh.
The most popular topic was HIV/AIDS, which led the team to choose Dr. Prabhat Jha, O.C.
Dr. Jha, as well as being the founding Director of the Centre for Global Health Research at St. Michael’s Hospital in Toronto, was recently awarded the Order of Canada for his work in epidemiology and the economics of global health.
In addition to such researchers as Dr. Jha, the conference featured two student speakers. Fourth-year Health Sciences student Lauren Friedment offered a workshop on the ethics of “volun-tourism,” inspired by her time volunteering in Africa.
Alexandra Sproule, a third-year Arts and Science student, earned the Engineers Without Borders fellowship last year, and spoke to some of the conference delegates about her insights on designing for real people in Ghana, after having spent four months on an internship in the country.
McMaster students weren’t the only ones involved, however. As Smart Solutions is a cross-university club, students from other schools were invited.
“We were surprised … we had a good mix,” said Nida Sohani, the club’s vice president, of the 135 delegates, who hailed from Western, Guelph, Waterloo and Ryerson.
“They weren’t all undergrads. We had people that have graduated, an older audience. We honestly weren’t [expecting that].”
Kacper Niburski
Assistant News Editor
The open forum discussion began with the harrowing reality that ten million people die each year due to lack of access to medicine. An expert panel of university professors and pharmaceutical CEOs went on to address the variety of obstacles present in the global campaign to provide universal and equitable medical treatment.
Organized by the McMaster Health Forum Student Subcommittee with support from the Bachelor of Health Sciences Program, the panel of three speakers, Aidan Hollis, Richard Elliott and Philip Blake, stressed that pharmaceutical inequality was not entirely caused by poverty found in developing nations.
People are not dying simply because they cannot afford the price of life. A complex analysis of the situation on the macrocosmic scale yields a much different observation: inequality does not result from poverty, but rather due to the current structure of medical research and development.
As it stands, a pharmaceutical R&D firm’s most motivating incentive is for innovation and the subsequent patents. Because of this primary incentive, if the demand is large enough, a patent allows the firm to profit for innovation into a novel process as opposed to meeting any dire need.
Profit, then, as described by Hollis, professor in Economics at the University of Calgary, “is due to the connection of innovation and price.”
Only the greatest innovation will result in both a larger price on the market and the most significant profit for the company. Just as it is not by the benevolence of the baker that one receives their bread, it is not by the charity of the pharmaceutical firms that one receives their medicines, no matter how necessary they may be.
The panel agreed that such a complex network of private and public partners working to meet their ends has caused much of the global struggle to achieve universal access to medicine. Elliot, executive director of the Canadian HIV/AIDS Legal Network, stressed that, “such price-based incentives have characterized the staggering inequality in healthcare for a long time.”
The panel offered little in way of solution, although a few overarching suggestions were offered in how to “square the circle,” as Hollis described it. Perhaps the most obvious was an explicit need to change the funding paradigm by radically altering incentives to fund research.
By no means did the panelists suggest it would be an easy task, however. Hollis stated that while the means to best do this is a contentious topic, it must be remembered that “companies are run by people who value healthcare just as much as anyone else,” which is inherently true.
Behind the grey walls and the large laboratories are people who would rather a system that rewards them for what they do, not what price they sell.
Philip Blake, president and CEO of Bayer Incorporated, mirrored the ideal. “We need a way to encourage innovation in a reality described by serendipity, and to find motivation balanced by pragmatism.”
Pragmatic as any solution may be, the question of how valuable one life is compared to the net profit seemed inescapable. While all panelists were adamant in their belief that any single life is invaluable, dividends behind the various pharmaceutical industries may have suggested otherwise.
One thing is for certain, though. The solution to a gross inequality in medical access is not found in a cure. Based on current intellectual property rights and capital market systems, there is no money to be had in a final cure.
Instead, profit is found in pills that placate an illness, that opiate the senses, and that mitigate the affects, as opposed to eradicating them.
That is the reality of the global struggle in universal medicine. On one end, people lack access to medication and die.
On the other, people take it for granted and often abuse their prescriptions. It would seem that the current market system does not allow for a middle ground between the two. As Hollis stated, “while companies want to do what’s valuable by improving health, they also want to make money.”
I remember the first time I went to the Student Wellness Centre to get tested for sexually transmitted infections. I took my best friend with me because I was nervous; I had this weird fear that somehow my tests would get shared with my family doctor and that my family doctor would tell my parents. My parents would not have been cool with that.
When the doctor asked me why I wanted to get tested, I shyly explained that I had sex with someone whom I didn’t know the status of and I just wanted to be safe. The doctor asked if I thought I might be pregnant. I paused and then said I had slept only with women. I waited, scanned the doctor’s face for a hint of disapproval, disgust or a scowl. It never came.
They were extremely nice and non-judgemental, reassuring me that no news would be good news and encouraged me to check out some of the pamphlets at the front of the office. When I left, I briefly scanned them, seeing some titled “Sex for Lesbians”. I remember looking away quickly, in case someone caught me and would know my secret.
The next time I was asked about my sexual activity, I told the doctor “yes, I was sexually active” and they asked me if I used protection. I said “no” and I got a look of mild disapproval. They went on to recommend that two forms of birth control should be used at all times. I nodded knowingly and then finally said, “I’m gay.” For a moment they looked a bit taken aback before saying, “Oh, okay” and the conversation continued.
These two encounters happened five years apart. During the first I was scared and nervous. I was waiting for judgement to come my way. In the second, I was a lot more confident in my sexuality and even though it was mildly annoying to have to correct the assumptions made about me, I wasn’t afraid to do it.
For some people who identify as 2SLGBTQIA+, these types of encounters can be nerve wracking. It sucks to have people assume who you’re sleeping with and what genitals your partner (or partners) may have. While healthcare providers are getting better at being non-assuming, disclosing sexuality and sexual preferences in these encounters can be terrifying, especially because you never really know how someone can react.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a doctor. I remember my grandma watching over me as I played doctor with my stuffed animals, preparing to listen to their heartbeats and sew them back together. Pretty cliché, I know. This past year, my childhood dreams came true as I started medical school at the Michael G. DeGroote School of Medicine here at McMaster University.
I’ll give McMaster some credit for making sure that we have some education around 2SLGBQIA+ health. We were taught to ask for pronouns in encounters, though no one really ever reinforces it. We had a session in our professional competencies class in which we talked about how to be more inclusive. There are efforts being made and I appreciate it. I hope that it means less people will have to feel as though heterosexuality is assumed when they go to the doctor’s office.
In medical school, we are encouraged to reflect on our privilege. Part of my reflection has been that to be the best doctor I want to be, it will include advocating for 2SLGBTQIA+ patients. I want to be a role model for students that want to become doctors as a queer person of colour. Just like the way my queerness guides the way I dress, it also guides where my passion for advocacy lies.
I want to demonstrate that asking for pronouns in medical encounters shouldn’t be awkward or weird. I want there to be more education on how to best talk to and treat 2SLGBTQIA+ patients. This isn’t just about who I am anymore, it’s about the future patients I and my colleagues will have.
In our session around 2SLGBTQIA+ health, I remember another student said that they’ve never thought about these topics before. I was baffled to hear that because thinking about these topics is a very common part of my life. Due to my own lived experiences, I could share with my classmates that feeling of apprehension about going to the doctor’s office. I shared that for me, the rainbow flags were important to see in an office, as it eased my mind a bit. For myself and others in the community, this is the reality of our world, but it’s not reality for others. I feel poised in my position to bridge those two worlds in an attempt to make medical visits less daunting for this community.
I’ve become more open about my sexuality over this past year. I’ve been trying to incorporate non-judgemental and non-assuming phrases into clinical history taking to avoid the heterosexuality norms that are taught in medical school. I still have a lot more to learn and more work to do, but I know that to live up to my full potential as a doctor, it will include highlighting the health of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community.
---------
I remember the first time I went to the Student Wellness Centre to get tested for STIs. I took my best friend with me because I was nervous; I had this weird fear that somehow my tests would get shared with my family doctor and that my family doctor would tell my parents. My parents would not have been cool with that.
When the doctor asked me why I wanted to get tested, I shyly explained that I had sex with someone whom I didn’t know the status of and I just wanted to be safe. The doctor asked if I thought I might be pregnant. I paused and then said I had slept only with women. I waited, scanned the doctor’s face for a hint of disapproval, disgust or a scowl. It never came. They were extremely nice and non-judgemental, reassuring me that no news would be good news and encouraged me to check out some of the pamphlets at the front of the office. When I left, I briefly scanned them, seeing some titled “Sex for Lesbians”. I remember looking away quickly, in case someone caught me and would know my secret.
The next time I was asked about my sexual activity, I told the doctor yes, I was sexually active and they asked me if I used protection. I said no and I got a look of mild disapproval. They went on to recommend that two forms of birth control should be used at all times. I nodded knowingly and then finally said, “I’m gay.” For a moment they looked a bit taken aback before saying, “Oh, okay” and the conversation continued.
These two encounters happened five years apart. During the first I was scared and nervous. I was waiting for judgement to come my way. In the second, I was a lot more confident in my sexuality and even though it was mildly annoying to have to correct the assumptions made about me, I wasn’t afraid to do it.
However, for some people who identify as 2SLGBTQIA+, these types of encounters can be nerve wracking. It sucks to have people assume who you’re sleeping with and what genitals your partner (or partners) may have. While healthcare providers are getting better at being non-assuming, disclosing sexuality and sexual preferences in these encounters can be terrifying, especially because you never really know how someone can react.
Now, for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a doctor. I remember my grandma watching over me as I played doctor with my stuffed animals, preparing to listen to their heartbeats and sew them back together. Pretty cliché, I know. This past year, my childhood dreams came true as I started medical school at the Michael G. DeGroote School of Medicine here at McMaster University.
I grew up in a religious household in a pretty conservative town. Unsurprisingly, a family member told me not tell people I was gay for fear of what harm may fall on me. I know they were just trying to look out for me in their own way, but it was disheartening to hear. I pushed that aside because I had more pressing matters like figuring out my career, not failing medical school and trying to learn anatomy without the chance to go to an anatomy lab (thank you, COVID). Having been in the closet for much of my life, coming out to people still stresses me out and will probably stress me out for the rest of my life.
I’ll give McMaster some credit for making sure that we have some education around 2SLGBQIA+ health. We were taught to ask for pronouns in encounters, though no one really ever reinforces it. We had a session in our professional competencies class in which we talked about how to be more inclusive. There are efforts being made and I appreciate it. I hope that it means less people will have to feel as though heterosexuality is assumed when they go to the doctor’s office.
I came out in my last year of high school to my best friends and since then, I’m pretty open around the people I meet. I’ve been meaning to come out publicly for a while but there was never any timeline I had in mind. That was until I started medical school.
It is not lost on me the privilege that I have as a soon-to-be doctor. I remember how easy it was for me to get a loan from the bank, just based on the fact that I’ll make money someday. Doctors are held in high regard in our society and while that is probably warranted most of the time given their role as healers and helpers, I am also acutely aware that the medical profession has hurt a number of communities. Healthcare for marginalized individuals is not always so amazing and for some, there is mistrust in the healthcare field. People can get left on the sidelines when they don’t fit the mold of the average patient.
In medical school, we are encouraged to reflect on our privilege. Part of my reflection has been that to be the best doctor I want to be, it will include advocating for 2SLGBTQIA+ patients. I want to be a role model for students that want to become doctors as a queer person of colour. Just like the way my queerness guides the way I dress, it also guides where my passion for advocacy lies. I want to demonstrate that asking for pronouns in medical encounters shouldn’t be awkward or weird. I want there to be more education on how to best talk to and treat 2SLGBTQIA+ patients. This isn’t just about who I am anymore, it’s about the future patients I and my colleagues will have.
In our session around 2SLGBTQIA+ health, I remember another student saying that they’ve, “never thought of these topics before”. I was baffled to hear that, because thinking about these topics is a very common part of my life. Because of my own lived experiences, I could share with my classmates that feeling of apprehension about going to the doctor’s office. I shared that for me, the rainbow flags were important to see in an office, as it eased my mind a bit. For myself and others in the community, this is the reality of our world, but it’s not reality for others. I feel poised in my position to bridge those two worlds in an attempt to make medical visits less daunting for this community.
