Halifax, N.S. — Dalhousie University campus, once bustling with the sounds of sleepy undergrads shuffling to morning lectures, has transformed into a haunted ghost town. Clang, clang, clang, honk, honk are the new morning noises waking up every hungover first-year, as professors on strike ring their cowbells, while passing drivers contribute honks that range from genuine support to “I just really want to honk.”
Gone are the usual September scenes of lost first-years clutching campus maps, overly caffeinated fourth-years pretending to care and seasoned student-alcoholics training for the six-hour Lower Deck line. Now, lecture halls sit empty, labs lie dark, yet somehow Brittany is still waiting half an hour in the Killam Second Cup line. Times are tough…
The Dalhousie Faculty Association — representing faculty, librarians and instructors — has been locked out of their jobs over disputes involving wages, benefits and the radical idea that professors need to pay rent in Halifax. The administration insists it simply cannot find the money to end the ongoing dispute despite tuition hikes, parking fees and the new $36.5 million hockey arena.
Mackerel correspondent Timothy London hit the picket lines to gauge strike reactions. Dr. Kathryn Spoon recalled one teen yelling, “Get a job, oh wait.” The Mackerel concludes support is split 50/50.
“We’re hoping to boost those numbers thanks to the Mackerel,” added professor Daryll MacIntyre.
While some students are enjoying their elongated summer vacation, others have joined the DFA on the picket lines. Jacob Drew, a third-year philosophy major told the Mackerel, “We need professors to go back to work, Dal feels like Hogwarts after Voldemort won. Niche, I know, but it’s true.”
Wondering what to do as a student awaiting the return to class? The Mackerel suggests going to the gym, swimming in the ocean, burning DVDs of the Harry Potter movies (submission by the roommate of Jacob Drew) and getting a job, you lazy pieces of shit.
For now, the strike continues, and Dalhousie remains in limbo — a university without lectures, without labs, but with plenty of cowbells. If there’s one thing we can all agree on, it’s that the first-years will never get a proper sleep-in again.
By Matt MacDonald