Attack ads have been increasingly commonplace in western political culture since the 1980’s. If you happened to watch your favourite television program last week there is a good chance you witnessed an attack ad yourself.
Last week the Conservatives launched its first round of commercials aimed at attacking new Liberal leader Justin Trudeau. Although there are different variations, the video boasts of Harper’s economic success while belittling Trudeau for having past experience as a camp counsellor, rafting instructor, and drama teacher. The ad plays carnival like music and shows footage of Trudeau removing his shirt while criticizing his attendance in the House of Commons, the slogan at the end of the ad explains Justin is “in over his head”.
Attack ads are believed to have originally emerged in 1964 with the “Daisy Girl” commercial aimed to articulate the prospect of nuclear war would be more prominent under Republican Barry Goldman. The attack ad proved to be beneficial as Goldman lost to President Lyndon Johnson in a landslide election. Later the Liberals launched attack ads against Brian Mulroney, and the Conservatives regarding the NAFTA agreement in 1988. Jean Chretien was later the target for Progressive Conservative attack ads in 1993, asking whether or not Chretien looked like a Prime Minister, Chretien suffered from Bell Palsy and had a lopsided facial expression. Recently both the Conservatives have been engaging in attack ads against Stephen Harper, Stephane Dion, and Michael Ignatieff.
Although it is proven political attack ads are effective, they have increasingly gone too far away from policy, and ideology, to blatant personal attacks to undermine a leader’s credibility. I must be clear I have no issue with a political party bringing to attention and attacking on issues of policy and direction of government. As Canadians that’s what we want, political parties offering alternatives in policy and thus alternatives in how Canada moves forward. Yet lately policy has been an afterthought, take for example the Trudeau ad. The ad begins with a scruffy looking Trudeau sporting a moustache, what the Conservative attack ad fails to explain was Trudeau was raising awareness for “Movember” a popular campaign to raise awareness of prostate cancer. Next the ad shows Trudeau waltzing around a stage unbuttoning his shirt, on this occasion Trudeau was at a charity event for the Canadian Liver Foundation, in which he raised $2,000. Trudeau is then slammed for having supposedly comical jobs of a drama teacher, camp counsellor, and rafting instructor. The point is the ad attacks Trudeau on his personal life rather than his beliefs, or policy for the country.
There has been an increasing emphasis on eliminating bullying, and the tragic events surrounding the death of Rehtaeh Parsons this month has pushed bullying to a prominent agenda issue. This week Darrell Dexter and Stephen Harper met to discuss new laws to prosecute for cyber-bullying, and sharing of sexual content via the web. Despite the progressive nature of these discussions the example being set in the federal political arena is the exact opposite of what the discussions have consisted of. Harper has openly condemned those responsible for bullying, yet he engages in attack ads against other leaders not on principal, and policy, but on personal grounds. The Conservatives are not the only party to engage in personal attacks, the Liberals and NDP also have engaged in this type of behaviour as well.
Ultimately personal attack ads put a black eye on Canadian politics. Canadians have been increasingly apathetic to politics, and voter turnout in the last two Federal elections has been the lowest in Canadian history. Perhaps it is because of the negative mudslinging, and personal attacks, rather than a positive message of what a party can do to improve the lives of Canadians.
Kody Blois is a native of East Hants, Nova Scotia, a former Amherst Rambler pursuing a commerce degree with a minor in political science at Brock University. You can follow him on twitter @kodyblois or his blog kodyblois@blogspot.ca.

In hindsight, it is inconceivable that no one saw to it that Dr.John Kappler received the medical attention he so desperately required. John was an outstanding student with an exceptionally high IQ. After spending a year in university, he dropped out to join the U.S. Army.
While in the military, he served in Korea, rising from private to sergeant and earning a meritorious bronze star.
Upon returning to the U.S., he met Tommie, a psychiatric nurse. In 1953 the pair fell in love and married. John left the Army, enrolled in medical school in North Carolina and graduated as a general practitioner in 1960. By 1963, the Kapplers had four children.
The stress of his practice and young family took its toll on John. He became depressed, complained of a number of illnesses and swore that he was hearing voices. Tommie, with her training as a psychiatric nurse, recognized the symptoms. She had her husband admitted to the Neuropsychiatric Center, where he was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic.
It was necessary for John to give up his practice. He did, however, react well to medication and was released from hospital six weeks later.
After a long stretch of relatively normal behavior, both Tommie and John thought it was time for him to get on with his life. John decided to become an anesthesiologist. He applied for a residency in anesthesiology to the University of Southern California and was accepted.
In 1968, John completed his specialty and accepted a position on the staff of St. Joseph’s Medical Center in Burbank, Calif. From time to time, especially when he stopped taking his medication, he would behave strangely. On those occasions, Tommie kept him at home in his room. She concealed her husband’s mental problems from the children.
Dr. Kappler was one sick individual. One day in 1973, while in the operating room, those haunting voices came to John. They told him to give a woman a variety of uncalled for drugs. The women, who was delivering by Caesarean section, became gravely ill, but both she and her baby survived. Undaunted, John left the delivery room to assist in two additional operations. The voices commanded again and again. John complied. During the second operation he signalled cardiac arrest, although none had occurred. This time, enough turmoil was generated by his actions that he fled the hospital.
John broke into a car in the hospital’s parking lot and attempted to drive away. He struck another vehicle, but was unhurt. The voices instructed him to jump in front of a bus, which he did, but the slow-moving bus didn’t seriously injure him.
John was arrested and taken to jail, where his strange behavior continued. He was able to contact Tommie, who, with the help of doctor friends, raised bail and obtained his release. While in custody, John had been observed drinking out of the jail’s toilet bowl. Despite all this, no one, not his wife, not his colleagues at the hospital, ever reported any wrong-doing by John Kappler.
John’s wife saw to it that her husband visit a psychiatrist on a regular basis. By 1976, he was deemed fit enough to resume his specialty.
He became a full-time member of the staff at Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital in Los Angeles. No one at the institution was informed that Dr.Kappler had been involved in bizarre situations in the operating room or that he was under psychiatric care.
And so life went on for John Kappler. From time to time, he would hear his voices and react to them. His wife was convinced that she could detect a change in his behavior and could anticipate when he was about to have a psychotic episode. She protected her husband to the best of her ability. Tommie called the hospital several times a day to assure herself that John was functioning property.
On April 29, 1985, a quadriplegic patient, Ben Wytewa, was in the intensive care unit of Hollywood Presbyterian on a respirator when someone turned off the machine. A nurse in the room identified the culprit as a male wearing glasses and dressed in hospital scrubs. She could not identify the man further.
John had been in the room directly before the incident took place and immediately afterward. He was arrested that morning in an operating room.
Later that same day he was released on $10,000 bail. The charge levied against him was attempted murder.
At his hearing some months later, no one could positively identify John and the charge against him was dismissed. The highly publicized case marked the end of Dr. Kappler’s professional life. He retired.
On April 14, 1990, John, then 60 years old, and Tommie were visiting their daughter Elsie in Boston. They had driven across the country from their home in California. The plan was for Tommie to fly home the next day. John would drive the 1989 Hyundai Sonata back home. Unknown to his wife, John had not taken his anti-psychotic medication for weeks. No one realized he was hearing his voices as he hopped into the Hyundai.
Dr. Paul Mendelsohn of the New England Medical Center was on call for psychiatric emergencies. His beeper was on his belt. The 32-year-old well-liked doctor was just about finished his residency.
Only nine more months to go. He would soon be returning to California with his wife, Camille. Now he was out for his daily jog along a footpath in Cambridge.
He had no way of knowing that another doctor was behind the wheel of a car, listening to commanding voices.
John went through a red light, jumped a six inch curb and drove adjacent to the running path. He aimed his car at Paul Mendelsohn jogging on the path. The Hyundai struck with a sickening thud without braking. Paul was carried several hundred feet on the hood. John Kappler wasn’t through. He stepped on the gas, trawling for a second victim. Moments later, he ran down Deborah Brunet-Tuttle, a 32-year-old mother returning from the grocery store.
John abandoned his car a mile away and walked back to the scene of his carnage. He enjoyed the flashing police cars and the ambulance sirens. John hitchhiked away from the area and caught a bus to New York City. He took a cheap hotel room and called Tommie, who urged him to go directly to hospital. That’s where one of his sons, living in New York, found him. He was placed in the locked in-patient unit of the Payne Whitney Clinic.
Back in Boston, Paul and Deborah were rushed to Massachusetts General Hospital. Paul died early the morning after he was struck.
Deborah survived the attack. After several months in hospital, she attended Dr. Kappler’s trial in a wheelchair.
On Dec. 6, 1990, John stood trial on several charges, including the murder of Dr. Paul Mendelsohn. He pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. Experts for the defence insisted that John was suffering from a mental illness and was obeying commands he was helpless to resist.
Prosecution experts professed that John knew well the consequences of his actions.
The Jury evidently believed that John was aware of his actions and therefore was not legally insane. He was found guilty of second degree murder, armed assault with intent to murder and assault and battery by means of a dangerous weapon.
Dr. John Kappler was sentenced to life imprisonment. Three years later, his appeal for a new trial was rejected.

The Marquis Alain Jules Antoine Romain Gaspard de Bernardi de Sigoyer wasn’t a marquis at all. He was really Alain de Bernardi, a con artist who dabbled in murder.
In 1944, Paris was occupied by the German army. Times were tough for civilians, but Alain was an exception.
The con man had no difficulty gaining favour with the German occupation forces.
And no wonder. Alain was in the wine business.
He wheeled and dealed until he became a wealthy man. No one carrying on business with Alain knew he had been in and out of jails and asylums most of his adult life.
On March 28, 1944, a distraught mother showed up at a Paris police station to report her daughter, Jeanne, had
failed to return home. Jeanne’s mother claimed her daughter was the beautiful 23-year-old Marquise Jeanne etc., who had gone to see her estranged husband about child support.
Detectives called on Alain, who readily admitted his wife had paid a visit to him.
They had quarrelled, which was not unusual. Jeanne was in the process of obtaining a divorce. He assured detectives his wife had left in a huff and he had not seen her since.
When it became obvious the tides of war were turning, Alain attempted to ingratiate himself with the resistance forces, but it was too late. He was known as a friend to the German army. Alain was arrested shortly after Paris was liberated.
There was Alain, in prison with the equivalent of hundreds of thousands of dollars on deposit in various banks.
From time to time he wrote
letters to friends seeking help. All were read by his jail-e rs. One such letter caught their attention.
It was addressed to Irene Lebeau, who had been his wife’s maid. He
requested Irene dispose of several dresses belonging to Jeanne. What made
them take notice was the phrase, “Be fearful of the red armchair.” The police decided to call on Irene to get an explanation.
Irene informed police the answer to their questions could be found in old vaults under the Marquis’ home.
When police started digging, they uncovered clothing Jeanne’s mother identified as having been worn by her daughter when she had disappeared almost a year earlier. Digging deeper, they uncovered the decomposed body of Jeanne de Bernardi.
Irene confessed that she had been the Marquis’ mistress for years, going back to before his marriage to Jeanne. He had often abusing her physically. After his marriage, she often observed him treating his wife in the same manner. Finally, Jeanne had left her husband.
Irene had been present the night Jeanne showed up at her former residence demanding funds to support her two children. At one point, while Jeanne was sitting in the red armchair, Alain began to strangle her with a length of cord.
The Marquis said he would kill Irene if she interfered. In her opinion, Alain had killed his wife to prevent her from getting half his fortune.
Detectives questioned Alain in jail. They asked what he had been referring to when he wrote about the red armchair. Jokingly, Alain replied, “So Irene would know what to expect if she talked.” The statement wasn’t a confession of murder, but it was good enough. Alain was charged with Jeanne’s murder.
When Alain’s charges were made public, Irene didn’t fare well. Investigators felt she may have been an accomplice.
In December 1946, the Marquis and the former maid stood trial for murder. Irene Lebeau took the witness stand and related that she had been seduced by Alain in 1940 when she was 17 years old.
After his marriage to Jeanne, she was hired to look after the couple’s only child. In 1943, there was an unwelcome addition to the family. Irene had given birth to Alain’s second child. That’s when Jeanne packed and left. Irene professed Alain had murdered Jeanne on the red armchair.
Alain took the witness stand in his own defence. He said that after he and Jeanne had agreed to divorce, they had reconciled. It hadn’t worked because Irene constantly argued with his wife.
Alain told the court that the two women continually argued over him. In the heat of one such argument, Irene shot Jeanne in the head. The strangulation had been a figment of Irene’s imagination.
Alain’s testimony was scintillating courtroom drama, but its effect was a surprise. The presiding judge ordered Jeanne’s body exhumed and the head X-rayed. No semblance of a wound or a bullet was found.
Alain’s stupid lie from the witness stand sealed his fate.
On Dec. 22, 1946, the French jury took only half an hour to find Alain de Bernardi guilty of murder. Irene Lebeau was found not guilty. The bogus Marquis had his head removed by the guillotine.

Starting of the school year is hovering over everyone like a dark cloud as we continue to wish and hope for summer to linger, hot weather to stay and the days to remain long and fun-filled. Exhibitions and county fairs, incredible picnics, blueberries ripening blackberries plump on their canes and tassels emerging on the corn are a sure sign that August is here and summer’s end is drawing near.

The Halifax county exhibition has an extensive history and a modern example of the joys yesteryear still thriving and active, not locked in a buried time capsule. For over 125 years the Halifax County Exhibition has been owned and operated by The Middle Musquodoboit Agricultural Society, dating as far back as 1819.
In 1884, the first Halifax County Exhibition was held in Cole Harbour, Dartmouth. The exhibition resided there for two years before moving. The exhibition has been hosted in the village of Middle Musquodoboit since 1886, making this specific fair one of the oldest and last of the old-fashioned ‘open air’ agricultural fairs.
Years ago, people came from all over the province. Many competitors may have entered a competition in the hopes of winning that coveted 1st place ribbon; this still happens today in a variety of divisions including livestock such as cattle, horse and poultry, non-livestock such as horticulture, floriculture and life skills including crafts, foods and photography.

The Halifax County Exhibition is known across the province as a ‘family exhibition’. It is a traditional venue for local and area farmers to showcase their livestock and agricultural products. People come for the 4-H displays and demonstrations as well as the oxen, horse and truck pulls. The 4-H clubs that participate in these exhibitions are very impressive young people and is an exceptional way for youth ages 9-21 to learn and develop skills that are priceless and difficult to come by. Public speaking skills, professionalism through showmanship and community involvement, ownership and how to excel through their projects and build self esteem through exercising the 4-H motto, “Learn To Do By Doing”. It is an excellent program to network and to create friendships through sharing common interests and taking pride in accomplishments. Locally there are 4 clubs, Shu-Mil, Riverside, Hardwoodlands and a newly formed Halifax Regional Municipality club.
Also in celebration of summer grown bounty, the incredible picnic has been a hit to both promote and inspire to eat good and support our farmers and economy as a community. Inspiration for the event came from the 1,000-kilometre cross-country picnic held on Bastille Day in France where participants celebrate with local food.
Each picnic has a great mix of producers and chefs selling everything you need to put together a fabulous picnic lunch, or you can bring your own basket full of local foods. Buying local and eating fresh products is important to an increasing number of Nova Scotians, so I urge everyone to come out to one of the picnic locations.

Cooking in season and locally as well as restocking the pantry for the year ahead, this is one of my favorite fruit preserves. This fruit butter is almost jam like but cuts out the pectin, cuts back the sugar by nearly half and has a full, fruity flavor.

Slow Cooker Blueberry Butter

makes about 3 1/2 pints of butter
• 8 cups of pureed blueberries

• 2 cups sugar
• 
1 lemon, zested

• 2 teaspoons cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
Put the pureed blueberries in a slow cooker. Place a lid on the pot and turn it on to low. After about an hour, give it a stir. At this point, you want to use something to prop the lid a bit. I found that laying a wooden spoon across the rim of the cooker and then placing the lid on gave it just enough room to let the steam evaporate.
My blueberry butter spent about six hours in the slow cooker (from 5:30 p.m. when I got home from work, until 11:30 p.m. when I canned and processed it). At the beginning of hour five, I added the spices and the sugar, removed the lid completely and turned the heat up to high, in order to speed the cooking down.
Once it’s cooked down sufficiently*, pour into jars (leave a good 1/2 inch of head space), wipe rims, apply lids and screw on bands. Process in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes. Eat on fresh scones and store unopened jars in a cool, dark place.
Here is to hoping the tail end of August and the start of September treats everyone with warmth and abundance!!

A political powerhouse has died.
Just weeks after announcing his second battle with cancer in recent years, NDP leader Jack Layton died at the age of 61.
When the news came down it was a shock, for many media outlets have been reporting his intentions to attend the NDP conventions later this fall. Watching his last press conference where he announced his intentions to step down while he battled his health problems I will admit I did not think he looked in great health, but if Layton proved anything during his political career it was that he is a fighter, that he could tackle the big hurdles. I thought this would be one of those examples.
While I might not agree fully with his political views, Layton was by far my favourite of the leaders because of his genuine, giving attitude. When Layton spoke, I could feel how deeply he felt for the issues. He fought for what he felt was right not for political gain, but because he truly cared about the welfare of Canadians as a whole.
He has put in a hard battle on the political field having helped the federal NDP party ride from a mere 13 seats when he became leader to more than 100 following the last federal election. That is an accomplishment to be honoured, and to be remembered for Layton.
I will remember Layton as a politician who stood up for me, who stood up for all of us and did what was right, not what was popular.

What a weekend!
It seems that’s a saying that comes to my mind every weekend I work as they always seem full with not much time to breathe, or respond to fire calls with Enfield Fire.
But this weekend saw me spend the vast majority of it under the bright sunny skies at Burncoat Head Park for the Howe High is Your Tide event as well as the Human 7 in support of the Bay of Fundy’s entry in the 7 Wonders of Nature contest.
The joyous look of the kids including more than one who were covered head to toe in muck, to the faces of Municipality of East Hants councillors Greg Grant and Wayne Greene as they rolled around in the mud, then bear hugged making each others white shirts even more dirtier was thrilling to see. It looked like even if the TV camera that Global TV reporter Devin Stevens was holding hadn’t been rolling, the two would still have been willing to get a little dirty for the cause!
Then it came time for the formation of the Human 7. As I looked down from the cliff above and helped line the more than 200 people forming the 7 up for photos (including the one on our front page), including those taken by other media who were there like Cat Country radio, FX 101.9 radio from Halifax, and like mentioned above, Global TV.
I was disappointed to see just four media outlets at this event.
Where were CBC, CTV, and the Herald? Unfortunately, if it was a story of controversy they would have likely been there knocking at the door.
But maybe this is where the promotion of the area comes in – or in my opinion, the lack there of. The group that organized the Human 7 and Howe High is Your Tide did a great job. They deserve a lot of credit. I’m not taking anything away from the job they did.
However, it seems the Bay of Fundy region doesn’t get a whole lot of promotion by any level of government, but specifically municipal and provincial, sort of like a racetrack that many people don’t know about but should.
While the NDP sent Hants East representative John MacDonell to the event, wouldn’t it have been more appropriate, being a tourism event that the tourism minister, Percy Paris, be in attendance? A communications for tourism had advised organizer Paris would be there, but he did not show up.
Recent numbers released by the Tourism division of Economic and Rural Development and Tourism indicate the Bay region is looking at an increase, while other areas across Nova Scotia.
At a Maitland bed and breakfast, the owner reported an 85 per cent occupancy rate in July, while this month (August) is looking even rosier. The percentages are expected to be a jump by 20 per cent from numbers achieved in 2010.
This shows that people are coming to this picturesque area? Why is it then, that I see more tourism promotion from the province of any other area of Nova Scotia except the Bay of Fundy?
With just a few months until the top 7 Wonders of Nature are officially announced in November, it’s time the province throw its support behind this. Promote the website www.votemyfundy.com and how people can text Fundy to 77077 to vote.
The end result would be both beneficial for the area and in turn the province.

Bullying hurts.
I know that first hand, having been bullied while attending school.
For me, bullying never really impacted me a lot until I was in Grade seven and eight, at Hants East Rural High School. That’s when my life changed, and I became scared of going into the school, but I did so as I knew I had to persevere to get an education. I also had good friends, who could tell I was being bullied and they would stand up for me.
Even now, I find it a little uncomfortable walking in the school when I go there to cover events, clubs, and organizations. Other schools I have no problem going to.
So with news during the last two weeks of three young teenagers, in Sackville, Dartmouth, and Parrsboro, having committed suicide reportedly because of being harassed online and offline, it brings back a lot of memories to me – memories I would rather have stayed away.
The father of Courtney Brown confirmed to Halifax media his daughter took her life following months of bullying. Brown, 17, was to graduate in June from Parrsboro Regional High School.
Halifax District RCMP are investigating a possible link between posts made on social networking site Formspring and the death of a Sackville Heights Junior High Student.
Discussion has been forthcoming on the topic as parents, such as Pam Murchison talk to the media, telling the story of her 15-year-old daughter Jenna Bowers-Bryanton, who took her life in January. Why? Because of online bullying.
It’s unfortunate that all these teenagers felt that taking their lives was the only way to solve the problem. It’s unfortunate on so many levels.
It means they didn’t feel they could speak out, to their teacher (and if they did, not much was done), friends, their parents, and most importantly couldn’t muster the confidence to call Kids Help Line.
Are the schools doing enough? They say they are, but it seems they could be doing more by sending a message. Instead, when those being bullied, as in the case of an Australian boy who while being bullied took it upon himself and didn’t take it anymore, both boys were suspended from school. The video went viral on YouTube and shows the bully being body-slammed by his victim. That doesn’t seem to be right that they both got the same punishment.
Another startling fact is that Canada is ranked ninth in the world as it relates to the percentage of children who were victimized two or more times in previous months. It shows that 15.1 per cent of boys are bullied, while 17.8 per cent of girls are bullied. The result is part of a PREVNET look at bullying. The survey was done in 2004.
When I went to school (I graduated in 1999), the form of bullying was mostly all done in a person’s face or behind one’s back.
Nowadays, with technology, we have text bullying and cyber bullying through websites like facebook, MySpace, and Formspring, to name a few.
Bullying is such an issue there is a national anti-bullying campaign, started when two Nova Scotians stood up for a classmate.
With such a dark cloud on the issue, it’s like a breathe of fresh air to see some of the younger generation willing to do their part to fight bullying, like Makayla Lynn does in her debut music video “The Joke’s On You.” It has a message to those being bullied bad bullies that everyone is alike.
In East Hants, Enfield RCMP Const. Cheryl Ponee is the school liaison officer. She has put together an anti-bullying program that has started being implemented in the lower grade school system in Dec. 2010. The hope is that by the time the students get to junior and senior high it will have helped curb, and possibly eliminate, any bullying.
My message is simple. If you’re approached by a friend who tells you they’re being bullied, or know of one who is being teased and picked on, don’t turn the left cheek. Lend them your ear and make the appropriate authorities know. By lending your ear and helping hand, you may prevent another headline reading: “Teen takes life due to bullying.”

Pat Healey

Women’s hockey was dealt a headshot on March 18 when Saint Mary’s University (SMU) announced they were icing the Huskies hockey program.
Their explanation for cutting and devastating the roster of 18 returnees and others they had recruited? It was a budgetary decision and they save $60,000. The Athletics Department at the south-end Halifax University was informed they needed to find $120,000 in savings.
Without looking at taking bits from each team, SMU just cut the program. There were other options, weren’t there? Couldn’t the school have cut from each sports team’s budget? According to Athletic Director Steve Sarty this would make the other teams at a competitive disadvantage. It also wouldn’t come close to the amount SMU would save by cutting one sports team.
Maybe my concern stems from the fact I’m a women’s in sports supporter and a huge fan of women’s hockey and that I know several of the Huskies players, and head coach Lisa Jordan.
The Huskies program has allowed many players to go on elsewhere, including the 2007 Esso Women’s Nationals where SMU goalie Jill MacIsaac led Nova Scotia to a bronze medal in the final year that provincial teams participated in the event. Five other Huskies besides MacIsaac were members of the team.
The program has also allowed Kori Cheverie, who was one of those on the N.S. team, to represent Canada as a member of its International University Sports Federation (FISU) Winter Universaide team in Harbin, China in Feb. 2009.
SMU also won the Atlantic University Sport (AUS) women’s hockey conference championship in 2010. So, a team that won an AUS championship gets cut? That doesn’t seem right.
Now this decision leaves the several returning players without a club, and those who were recruited to SMU no doubt by Jordan, without a team.
At least Jordan will be able to let this heart-wrenching news go to the back of her mind in eight days, when she leaves to be an assistant coach with the Canadian women’s national team at the World championships in Switzerland next month.
While many don’t think this has an impact on East Hants, it does in the long-term.
It means there’s one less school that offers female hockey for the talented up and coming female players. It means once less spot for the Dawn Sullivan’s, Stephanie Gates’, Randi Sullivan’s, Grace Garden-Coles, and Sydnee Parker’s to play hockey, while pursuing their career choice, all the while being able to live on campus and just a 30 minute drive from family.
With a well-run midget AAA girls program continually graduating players that dream of going on. There are players on the Pro Cresting Penguins who may now be left with no other option than to go to another school if it has the courses they’re looking for, or move away as a result of this decision. There’s even the possibility they may even have to give up hockey.
We all know economic times are tough for everyone, so it’s understandable for the university to seek ways to stay out of the red. However, instead of placing the full weight of the $120,000 on the backs of the women’s hockey program, other avenues should have been explored.
By not doing so, they’ve just crosschecked the dreams of many women’s hockey players and caused many female students who play hockey and were thinking of attending SMU, to second guess that choice.

Pat Healey

One thing that I’ve noticed during my time living in East Hants is an art form that doesn’t get a whole lot of attention—save for the annoyance it sometimes causes its residents. It’s something I’ve always had eye for. Graffiti. Some call it vandalism, some call it art. In its awesomeness, I call it both.
During the summer I would take my routine walks over the train tracks in Enfield. The section of the tracks that headed into the trees for a brief few minutes of branch barriered silence eventually reached bridge over the rushing Nine Mile River, and beneath the highway. The bridge is a sight. But only because the pail institutional steel green has been slathered, sprayed, and saturated with colour and paint, on and around, underneath and through. I think this is part of what makes it one of my favorite places.
Yes, I know I’m not supposed to walk ON train tracks. But the few risks I do choose to take in my life are usually more calculated: move to a place where I know no one; going back to school in my late twenties; quit a well paying job and take off to India before even being accepted into said school program; walk over train tracks. I pick my perils.
To some, the idea of graffiti as an art form is debatable—especially the simple scrawls, the pieces which took little effort, if only for angst ridden teens or young adults to leave their mark. Some pieces, I can tell from my own experience with a spray can in my younger years, have taken more than one hour. Splashes of colour, time and effort make them more acceptable as an artistic expression than a simple tag. Still, all artists remain anonymous. Both have a statement to make, reactionary, well thought out, or otherwise. Maybe one is not necessarily more pertinent than another’s.
That’s kind of how I feel about my time here. Some people know me well. They take the time to read my stories. I am grateful, and lucky to have had such positive feedback and personal connection with those who have helped me learn and grow here. I’m sure that for every one person who has provided positive comments, there are probably more who had negative ones they kept to themselves—kind of like those who aren’t fans of graffiti, but are more apt to shake their fists in annoyance than to complain.
Some people in the community I come across don’t even know I’ve existed for the past year and a half. “Did you just start here?” They ask. I get that a lot.
But then there are times I take my trip down the railroad tracks, to the underbelly of the bridge where I’m sure many a ‘deplorable to society’ activity has taken place, and I’ll see a piece of graffiti that has the obviously weather worn, wind beaten marks of time, and I could swear that I’ve never seen it before. It has gone unnoticed maybe due to lack of interest, maybe because I was wrapped up in something else.
If it’s not apparent by the nostalgic tone or the un-careful usage of past and future tense, maybe I should spell it out. I’m leaving the Weekly Press and want to say goodbye and thanks to the people who have shared their stories with me. It may be corny, and maybe I’d portray more of the edgy graffiti writer persona of my younger years if I simply took off having left my mark without a more obvious departure. It hasn’t all been lollypops and sunshine. There have definitely been hard times, too.
But I’m growing on gratitude, kind of like a wildflower grows on a train track.
Angele Cano

It seems that lately you can’t pick up a magazine or newspaper or turn on the radio without there being an article or story with a mental health focus. Many have the ‘out of the darkness and into the light” type flavour.
If only there were more light in which to emerge.
One in three Canadians will experience some sort of mental health problem at some point in their life. Only 9.2 per cent of individuals between the ages of 15-24 will reach out, according to the Mental Health Commission of Canada (MHCC). Suicide is also the second leading cause of death in this age group.
Twenty per cent of those admitted in a 2003-2004 study indicated that those admitted to hospital with a mental health disorder had problems with substance abuse.
While the MHCC is working to implement a mental health strategy for healthcare across the country, some of their goals are loftier, and include the reframing in thought of an entire nation. The goals place focus on recovery, prevention, accepting and adequate response from health care. The underlying thread here is that a more regimented system may lower stigma. Until the term ‘all in your head’ is phased out of our mindsets, this is something that will continue to exist.
The prevalence and acceptance of depression and other mental illness as illness and not simply a character flaw, personality trait or disposition are slowly being accepted by the masses. But increased awareness and acceptance come more questions. Why are we only realizing this now, and, why are so many people depressed?
A 2008 study conducted for Research data centre network stated that depression was the single leading cause of disability in the year 2000 according to the World Health Organization.
A recent radio program featured a pediatrician who treated young children with mental health issues, and also faced his own battle with bi-polar disorder and several episodes that left him functionally crippled. He said something to the effect of, “If one in five patients that needed a knee replacement received that replacement, there would be uproar.’
Depressive episodes, which mark the point where the illness reaches its peak, can be triggered by stressful events in life. The study also noted that compared to the past, more people are being treated for depression than ever. Our ever changing work environment has one employee looking after the tasks that used to be devoted to several. This carries over into our personal lives. Children, houses, vacations, organization, possessions—we expect perfection of ourselves more than others.
Between 1994 and 2000, anti depressant and SSRI use more than doubled. While the pills are more available, access to psychotherapy, cognitive therapy and other treatments have remained the same—relatively difficult to access and underfunded.
We may think that in a relatively democratic society that we’re past prejudice, past judgment and ignorance. Maybe this year, with increased focus and understanding, our words will match intentions.