The following is a transcript of an episode of The Vilest Rag, The Ubyssey's podcast. You can also listen to the full audio on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.
[THEME MUSIC]
Sophie Clark
This is The Vilest Rag. I'm your host Sophie Clark, and you're listening to a podcast brought to you by The Ubyssey, UBC's student newspaper.
[Archived Recording 1]
Three weeks ago, the Alma Mater Society was on trial for wrongful termination, sued by a former AMS executive, Drédyn Fontana. The trial had been years in the making, following an inquiry into Drédyn's performance as VP Academic and University Affairs, which ultimately resulted in his removal. The trial took place over August 25 and 26, and the verdict will be available after September 16. Today, I'm speaking to Quyen Schroeder, The Ubyssey's opinion editor, about the lead-up to the trial and about how their AMS opinion column, Point of Inquiry, delivers an informed perspective on the trial itself.
Hi Quyen, welcome back to The Vilest Rag. You're an OG guest, and now you're back.
Quyen Schroeder
I suppose I am an OG guest. I ran a fairly long-running segment about UBC history on the previous iteration of The Vilest Rag.
Sophie Clark
This is true. Before we get into the topic of today's episode, tell us a little bit about your roles at The Ubyssey.
Quyen Schroeder
Happy to. I wear a couple of hats here. First, I'm the opinion editor, so I'm in charge of everything that gets published in the opinion section — columns, op-eds, forthcoming editorials, as well as letters from readers. I also have a reporting role: I'm the AMS opinion columnist, which is presumably why I'm here. And then, separately, I'm one of the senior systems developers. I've been working with Deacon, the other senior systems developer, to develop our new digital publishing solution, which we're calling Stove.
Sophie Clark
Many hats indeed. You briefly mentioned your AMS opinion column, Point of Inquiry, but I want you to expand on how that column came to be, and how you developed your situated knowledge of the AMS.
Quyen Schroeder
I've been writing Point of Inquiry for about a year and a half now. It started following an op-ed I published under the previous opinion editor — I had run as a joke candidate for AMS president. My joke candidate name was Barry B. Buzzword, making fun of all the standard promises candidates make around accessibility, affordability, transparency, consultation — the whole lot. I think I had 18 in total.
Important context for this episode: I was running against Drédyn Fontana, among others. I don't think that presents any legitimate conflict of interest, since I was running as a joke candidate with no serious contention to be president, but I think it's important that readers understand that so they can understand the standpoint I'm coming at this from.
Before I ran for AMS president, I'd been attending AMS Council meetings for years, since 2023 — I go to almost every meeting. I'm often the person with the second-longest attendance record in that room, outside of the archivist, Sheldon Goldfarb, who's been there for about 30 years. I think I've logged more meetings at AMS Council than pretty much every councillor or exec there.
That's a bit of a diversion, but to answer your question: Point of Inquiry started after I wrote the joke-candidate op-ed. Spencer Izen, the previous opinion editor, came by and asked if I wanted to be our AMS columnist — they'd been looking for one for a long time, and thought I'd be great for it. I said yes, and now I'm here. I've been writing it for about a year and a half.
Sophie Clark
Now let's get into the heart of the episode. I imagine a lot of our listeners and readers may not know the context of Drédyn Fontana's trial, especially if they're incoming first-years, or second-years like myself. Take us back to May 2024, when Drédyn first began his term as AMS VP Academic and University Affairs. What were his campaign goals, and what does the VP AUA role entail?
Quyen Schroeder
Starting with what the role entails: it's essentially an advocacy position. The AMS has two executives principally focused on advocacy. There's the VP External, who advocates to external organizations — the province, municipalities in the Greater Vancouver area, the federal government. The VP AUA's advocacy is confined to the university context, so they lobby different faculties as well as the central administration, and support other organizations in their lobbying of the university.
As for Drédyn's promises when he was running, my perception is that they were pretty much standard for a VP AUA candidacy — fighting tuition increases, rallying for more support for the Centre for Accessibility, pushing the Senate to review policies that aren't serving students. I don't mean this to be offensive, but it was a run-of-the-mill VP AUA candidacy.
Drédyn has described the process of taking on the role, and he says he was essentially selected by the establishment candidates because he seemed like a normal guy.
Archived Recording 2, Drédyn Fontana
What I was told was that I looked like a normal person, which is what they wanted. They didn't want someone who was — I don't know — weirdly obsessed with student politics, which I don't claim to be. I spent a lot of time in the roles I was in, but at least I had the look of someone who wasn't, which is what they wanted to see. So I ended up in this role.
Quyen Schroeder
I think at some point, his policies changed. Following his removal, he's gone more independent, and he's developed his own stances. When he was running for VP AUA, it was to oppose tuition increases. Now he's taking a different stance: he's saying that halting tuition increases entirely isn't reasonable given the university's financial state, and instead he'd advocate to keep them sub-inflationary, so that relative to the cost of other goods, tuition is effectively getting cheaper. His perspective has shifted a bit, but when he was running for the position, it was very much the establishment status quo.
Sophie Clark
He was elected in March 2024, took office in May, and was removed in November 2024. I was hoping you could speak to the inquiry report into Drédyn Fontana. It focused on his misrepresentation to AMS Council, and on poor performance and conduct, and a lack of confidence in his ability to complete his executive goals. This investigation was carried out by the AMS's Executive Performance and Accountability Committee. Take us through that report and how it ultimately resulted in his removal.
Quyen Schroeder
I'll get to your question, but I want to establish something important to this case as a whole: the VP AUA is an elected position. Students elect the VP AUA every year, and that election gives the VP AUA a voting seat on AMS Council, the AMS's board of directors.
Importantly, the executives are paid — they're paid leaders of the student union. Following his election, Drédyn was offered an employment contract, which he signed, laying out the responsibilities we've discussed.
His responsibilities fall into the lobbying-for-the-university category, broadly. One of them, specifically relevant to the EPA report, was lobbying for food security funding — funding for the AMS Food Bank, and for other organizations on campus like Sprouts, Agora, and Roots on the Roof, which all benefit at least a little from funding UBC provides.
So where does the "poor performance" part of this report come in? One of the services using this funding stopped operating, and its funding became available — around $40,000. Drédyn says he went to student groups and asked how they'd use that money if they had it, then presented those arguments to UBC to try to secure the funding.
UBC ultimately agreed to allocate only around $30,000 of that available money to food security initiatives at UBC Vancouver. The remaining $10,000 didn't disappear — it wasn't spent on, say, a fancier bathroom for President Bacon. It went to funding food security initiatives at UBC Okanagan, so it was still spent on food security, just not here.
That's where the allegation comes in: that he misrepresented having already acquired the $40,000. People apparently believed he'd secured it and was just determining how to allocate it, when he ultimately came up $10,000 short.
As for the poor-performance allegations, I think the main one is this: one of the VP AUA's deliverables is a budget submission to the university — essentially, "this is what we think students' priorities are, and where the money could come from." It's expected that the VP AUA makes that submission fairly early in their term, to get a head start on influencing the conversation.
That didn't happen for Drédyn, but he says that's not entirely his fault — he wasn't properly transitioned, and that timeline wasn't outlined in the transition report from his predecessor, Kamil Kanji. Shortly after his termination, The Ubyssey obtained an alleged copy of that transition report, and in that copy, the section on that deliverable is blank — just the header, nothing else, at least in the version we received.
Those are the high-level factors that went into the inquiry report. There was also the matter of his conduct: while the investigation was ongoing, he allegedly used profanity that went against AMS standards of conduct, and there's allegedly a recording of this. Drédyn said he thought he was among friends when the recording was made — that he'd essentially been wiretapped — but he's never actually disputed that he said what's on it. One of the things he reportedly said was, "fuck council, fuck CK" — CK being the AMS president at the time.
Asked about this on a different podcast, he essentially said he didn't exactly recall saying it, but that it was something he would have said and stood by. I respect the willingness to stand behind that, but it ultimately contributed to the inquiry report's findings.
The report was delivered to council by the EPA — actually by Riley Huntley, who was co-chair of the committee at the time. There was a lot of conflict in producing the report itself, because — there's no easy way to put this — a lot of relationships within the AMS struck Drédyn as conflicts of interest, and I broadly agree. CK, the president at the time, was someone Drédyn was increasingly not a fan of, and from what we can tell, neither were the other vice-presidents who worked under him — by the end of the term, Drédyn had been removed and two others had resigned.
Drédyn alleged the report itself might have been influenced because a member of the EPA, Eshana Bhangu — a councillor and the AMS's 2022/23 president — was in a romantic relationship with CK. He also alleged conflicts involving other committee members: Kamil Kanji, his predecessor as VP AUA, was in a relationship with Zarifa Nawar, one of Drédyn's own staff members, and Jasper Lorien, Drédyn said, would be unfairly biased against him because Drédyn had been part of Lorien's removal as a co-chair of the Student Senate Caucus.
That's a lot of relationships, but the gist is that Drédyn identified a number of people he believed had a conflict of interest. I think for most of them he had some merit, but HR ultimately determined it was probably fine, though some of those people recused themselves voluntarily.
So how did this result in his removal? The report was presented to council during an in-camera session — a private session that students at large and journalists aren't allowed to attend, and that councillors are restricted from discussing publicly.
So we don't actually know the exact connection between the report and his removal, but we do know council stayed in-camera for a number of hours, presumably discussing it, and by the time they emerged, they had a motion to remove Drédyn Fontana from the AMS board of directors — that is, from his elected seat on council. The next morning (they'd gone past midnight), he was sent a letter telling him his employment as VP AUA had ended.
Sophie Clark
When a councillor or executive is removed, what's the process for filling an interim position, and what are the broader consequences for the student body and the university?
Quyen Schroeder
When a councillor is removed, the process varies by constituency or faculty — they each have their own methods for determining who sits on AMS Council. It's fairly common for there to be vacancies. Typically, there's a provision that if you miss enough council meetings, you're removed, and the faculty will usually just select the same person again. Not a lot of drama there.
Executive removal is different — this was the first time it's happened, so there was no precedent. There have been plenty of resignations, and, more recently — in roughly the past half-decade — leaves of absence, which are handled differently. In a resignation, council typically appoints someone as interim or acting in that role, and is then required by the governing documents to hold a by-election within a month.
That's what happened in Drédyn's case: the person appointed interim was Zarifa Nawar, who had worked under him as an AVP, and who was also in a relationship with Kamil Kanji, Drédyn's predecessor. He was removed in November; by the start of the new semester there was a by-election in the spring, which Zarifa ultimately won, becoming VP AUA.
Leaves of absence are a different story — they've effectively become a loophole in the AMS's governing structure. If someone who's resigning can instead be convinced to take a leave of absence, there's no by-election requirement, and council can appoint whoever it wants.
This has happened a number of times recently. It happened during Drédyn's year: the VP External, Ayesha Irfan, went on a leave of absence for several months before ultimately resigning. The year before that, elected president Esmé Decker — who'd run as a joke candidate, Remy the Rat — took a leave of absence halfway through their term. They were replaced by the person who'd lost the election to them, who was appointed interim and remained in the role through the rest of Esme's original term. Students never got to vote on who would replace her.
Sophie Clark
Fast forward to May 2025: Drédyn Fontana filed a lawsuit against the AMS for wrongful termination, aggravated damages, and filing fees. Can you establish the facts of Fontana's accusations against the AMS, and what was at issue at trial?
Quyen Schroeder
Fontana's accusations, essentially: he had a fixed-term employment contract, from May 1 to April 30, but when he was given the letter of termination, they stopped paying him and providing benefits, which he said violated the contract. He says he wasn't given a chance to remedy his performance beforehand, and that there's no termination clause in the contract allowing for a dismissal like this. Because of that, he argues, the termination was unlawful, and he should be paid the balance of the contract — the remaining 5.8 months, about $21,000.
Initially, Fontana was also seeking about $10,000 in aggravated damages. In February or March 2025, following his removal, UBC published an investigation into the circumstances of his removal and the alleged toxic culture within the AMS — claims I think are well-founded, and which go back years, tied largely to the regime that brought Drédyn in and that he'd say ultimately betrayed him.
Before that investigation, The Ubyssey's news team sent requests for comment to a number of people within the AMS. CK, the president at the time, responded to The Ubyssey, but also sent an email to all 60,000 UBC students, apparently trying to get ahead of the article and frame the story first, making a number of claims about the process and about Drédyn's performance. That's the genesis of the aggravated damages claim, though it was ultimately dropped before the trial, so it wasn't at issue.
Sophie Clark
This past August — the 25th and 26th, I believe — the lawsuit came to court at Robson Square. Take us through the proceedings and the arguments.
Quyen Schroeder
The trial was initially scheduled for six days, to cover both the wrongful termination and aggravated damages claims. With the damages claim dropped, the AMS called fewer witnesses and cut it to three days — they got through the arguments in two. Still, a lot to cover; I ended up handwriting 92 pages of notes.
Fontana's arguments are fairly simple: this was a fixed-term contract, ended before its term was up, with no termination clause, and no cause for the termination — he wasn't given a chance to remedy his performance. So he should be paid the balance. His counsel argues that even though being elected VP AUA is a prerequisite to getting the contract in the first place, it's not an ongoing requirement to fulfill the contract's duties — lobbying the university, supporting constituencies like the Arts Undergraduate Society or the Forestry Undergraduate Society in lobbying their respective faculties, liaising with campus stakeholders.
He says he could have done all of that without a voting seat on council, and that his removal from council doesn't affect his ability to fulfill his employment duties — so there was no real reason for his termination beyond the AMS's decision.
The AMS's case is a bit more complicated, and — I'm not a lawyer, but I'd characterize it as weaker. It rests on the argument that being the elected VP AUA is a necessary, ongoing prerequisite to the employment contract, so when he lost his elected council seat, his employment contract was "frustrated." The doctrine of frustration is a common-law concept dating back to 1600s England: if a contract's terms change so radically that fulfilling it becomes fundamentally different from what either party intended, the contract is frustrated, and both parties are released from their obligations without fault or payout.
An example: say you and I sign a contract where I provide a theatre downtown for your troupe of improvising monkeys to perform in, and you pay me for the space — and then, before the performance, my theatre burns down. Neither of us can fulfill the contract; that's frustration. You don't owe me money, I don't owe you a venue.
That's what the AMS argues happened here: because Drédyn lost his elected board seat, he was no longer eligible to be VP AUA, so the contract was frustrated, and they don't owe him anything. Beyond this not being explicit in the contract, the AMS drew a connection based on language like "you've been elected VP AUA, so here's your employment contract." But frustration typically requires that neither party caused the disruption. In the theatre example, if I'd double-booked the venue myself, that wouldn't count as frustration.
Here's where the AMS's argument gets tenuous: they're saying AMS Council — the board of directors — is in some way separate from the AMS itself, such that the employment contract sits with "the AMS" and AMS HR, who are bound to follow council's directives, and because council directed his removal, HR had no power to keep him employed regardless — hence, frustration.
The problem, as I see it, is that separating the board of directors from the society itself is a strange argument. The same statutory authority that creates the AMS's board of directors also creates the AMS — the AMS exists under the Societies Act, which also establishes that it has a board of directors. This was probably the central point of contention at trial: whether the doctrine of frustration applies, which hinges on this shaky premise that AMS Council and the AMS are legally distinct, and that council's actions aren't the AMS's actions.
To use an analogy: we both have employment contracts with the Ubyssey Publications Society, because we work here. If our board of directors — also incorporated under the Societies Act — voted to, say, refund Sophie's $8 student fee, and the UPS then told you, "Sorry, you didn't pay your fee, so your contract is void" — that would be strange, since the UPS board is the body that directs the UPS.
I don't want to get too far into legal speculation, but it's a bit like saying, "Your honour, I didn't kill that person — they were being held over a cliff, and the highest governing part of my body decided to let go, and they happened to fall 300 feet into a rocky section of the ocean." Very specific example, but the point is: it's odd to say one part of an organization isn't really part of the whole, and that the whole can't be held responsible for that part's actions. I think that's tenuous.
So those were the main proceedings on whether Fontana should be paid out at all. Each side also argued over how much. Fontana's team argued that vice-presidents are essentially the AMS's C-suite executives — high positions managing other students (Drédyn managed three staff, including Zarifa Nawar) — and that the experience is hard to replicate elsewhere, which is why he should be paid the balance of his contract.
The AMS argued Drédyn didn't do enough to mitigate his damages — he didn't find employment during those 5.8 months — so even if the judge found the AMS owed anything, the damages should be reduced to somewhere between a week and two months. Fontana's counsel countered that he'd made real efforts: sending networking emails, attending a career event, and a VIP networking dinner he paid for himself. He also ran in the by-election for his own position.
That's actually one of my favourite details from the trial. The AMS argued there was no authority to keep Drédyn on after his removal, but Drédyn's lawyers pointed out that, per the bylaws, when someone resigns or is removed, council can appoint an interim for the position before holding a by-election — and while there are rules barring someone who's just been removed from running in that by-election, there's no such rule against appointing them interim. So it was technically possible for council to remove Drédyn and then immediately reappoint him as interim, which would have been bylaws-compliant and would have effectively given him notice.
I don't think there's a world where that actually happens, but it's an example of how Drédyn's case has more legs than the AMS's. He was barred from running in the by-election because of the removal rule, and later ran for AMS president that spring — against me. I ran as a joke candidate and didn't want to win, but that disclosure is relevant here.
It's also worth noting that the lawyers on both sides were fairly inexperienced. Drédyn was represented by two law students through LSLAP, the Law Students' Legal Advice Program, a free or low-cost legal clinic. The AMS used the same law firm it's used for some time — DLA Piper — and its lawyer, Cléa Catona, had passed the bar in May. Our deputy news editor learned this was, or was among, her first trials.
Both sides were inexperienced, which makes sense for a small-claims case worth about $20,000 — though how much the AMS spent on legal fees is a separate matter. Dylan Evans, the current AMS president, has previously said the AMS has spent upwards of $300,000 in legal fees over the past four years. Not all of that is related to this case, obviously — some is for contracts and general counsel — but I'd be surprised if a significant chunk wasn't multiple times what Drédyn is asking for.
Sophie Clark
The Ubyssey published a story dated February 14, 2025, with Fontana calling the inquiry "a witch hunt" and accusing AMS president Christian "CK" Kyle of creating a toxic work environment. Under Kyle's presidency, both the VP External and VP Finance resigned in February 2025.
This past April, Zarifa Nawar — who you mentioned earlier — resigned as 2025–26 VP AUA after allegedly violating her fiduciary duties and confidentiality agreement with the student union, and later alleged experiencing disrespect, bullying, and misconduct on the basis of race and gender. Given this amount of executive turnover over the past two years, should listeners and readers question the nature of AMS Council's governance, conduct, and accountability?
Quyen Schroeder
Yes, I think doing so would be valid. Dylan Evans has also acknowledged something is wrong within the AMS that causes people to resign and creates this culture — I think we diagnose the reasons differently, but he's taking some steps to address it. One correction: at the time we published that report, it was actually about half the executives over the previous three years who had either resigned, been removed, or gone on an extended leave — so this has been a persistent issue since 2022.
I think there are fair reasons to criticize the governance, and that's where Dylan's remedies lie. They discussed the EPA — the inquiry committee that preceded Drédyn's removal — which is no more; it was replaced this spring by the Ethics and Oversight Committee. Earlier this summer, there was a move to re-examine what executive accountability looks like on council. This structure changes constantly — before the EPA, there was another committee, replaced, funnily enough, under Eshana Bhangu, who was in a relationship with CK at the time.
Executive turnover has been a big problem. Last year was better — there was only one resignation, Zarifa's, near the end of her term, and her statement to council read more like a general statement than anything specific; I suspect there may have been other motives behind it, though that's not the main point here.
I mentioned Dylan's view that this is mostly a structural problem — that fixing the AMS's systems, its code, its committee structures, would resolve the issue on its own. I think that's too narrow. There's likely some structural component, but I think it's also heavily cultural. In the news team's report on Fontana's removal, several former executives alleged a toxic culture within the AMS. One particularly telling, if tragic, anecdote: Esmé Decker, the AMS president who went on leave, alleged that people were throwing things at each other in the office, and there have been other allegations of executives bullying and being rude to one another.
I can't say exactly how far back it goes, but my diagnosis is that the same regime that brought Drédyn in is largely responsible for a lot of that toxicity and culture — starting, I'd say, with Eshana, who was in a relationship with CK at the time of that report. There's definitely a cultural issue. It shouldn't be this hard to retain people for more than a year; the amount of resignations and leaves of absence is genuinely abnormal.
Sophie Clark
You're diagnosing this as both a structural and cultural problem, and culture often comes down to the people involved. I'm wondering — since it's hard to evaluate someone based on their campaign alone — how should students look into candidates during AMS elections? How should they assess who these people actually are?
Quyen Schroeder
That's a hard question in many ways. I'm not sure this problem — which seems to date back to around 2012 — will resolve itself as people age out and graduate. Eshana has graduated, but she's still involved in campus campaigns; I saw her campaigning for Dylan Evans this past spring. So I'm not convinced the culture will fix itself.
As for how students can evaluate candidates: it's genuinely hard, partly because there hasn't been much choice recently. In the most recent AMS elections, both the VP AUA and VP External candidates ran unopposed, so students had no real choice. I'd call that especially unfortunate for the VP External race — I wasn't impressed with that campaign, and neither was the rest of the editorial board. No one ran for VP Student Life at all.
It's hard to make comparisons when there aren't real options. You can cast a "no" vote, but that likely won't accomplish much. Even when there is competition, it's often uneven — we saw this in multiple races this spring, with candidates who hadn't well formulated ideas about what they wanted to do, or what was feasible or desirable. We also saw it in the previous VP Student Life by-election, when Kevin Heieis, who'd worked at the AMS for a long time, ran against Dominic Tomkowicz — better known on campus as Scooter Dom — who really didn't seem to know what he was signing up for.
That's a bit of a non-answer, but I think the real answer comes from more, and better, people deciding to run for these positions. We've seen a little of that already — council currently isn't a rubber stamp for the executive; councillors are quite involved and often push back. I wouldn't be surprised if some current councillors run for executive positions this year, and I think that would broadly be a good thing.
I hesitate to pin the culture on any one person's wrongdoing — I don't think it's fair to say one person is some evil mastermind controlling everything. But I do think part of the current culture encourages people to treat student politics as a kind of realpolitik — a game about acquiring and exerting power rather than about what's actually important for students. We've seen that come up in a number of ways over the past few years, and I think it's a harmful framework for a public-service role. Our executives are public servants; they serve students, or at least they should. Treating it as a game about power does students a disservice.
That said, not everyone needs to be deeply engaged with the AMS — no one should feel obligated to attend every council meeting. But staying informed, especially when voting, is part of being a citizen, and there are real consequences even for students who aren't paying close attention. The AMS manages our health and dental plan, which affects a huge number of students. It allocates food security funding and advocates to the university on students' behalf. So — somewhat ironic, coming from someone who ran as a joke candidate — I think people seeking elected office need to treat it seriously, as something with real consequences, rather than as lip service, which I think it's often been.
Sophie Clark
This feels like it circles back to Maya's episode about youth politicians.
Quyen Schroeder
Eshana Bhangu now works as Jake Sawatsky's constituency manager, and CK is currently running for Vancouver Park Board with ABC. So there's a lot of that happening these days.
Sophie Clark
From my understanding, the AMS can also be a mechanism for students to get their start in politics — whether or not they have students' best interests at heart is hard to evaluate until they're actually making decisions. My last question: what should listeners take away from the trial, and how should it shape their understanding of AMS Council?
Quyen Schroeder
For me, it's given a better understanding of contract law, if nothing else. But I think the main takeaway is that this whole situation was strange and unnecessary. It's clear the AMS didn't have proper procedures in place, since this was the first time this had ever happened — unexpected, even though it was technically covered in the bylaws. They've since revised their employment contracts to include a termination clause, so this specific situation can't recur.
It feels strange to say, given how consequential and expensive this has been for the union, which is already struggling financially — most of its businesses are underperforming — and this was a significant expenditure regardless of the outcome. Unless Drédyn loses and the AMS is awarded costs (and even then, only partial costs), they're paying legal fees no matter what.
I think what people should take away is that these things are serious. The effects of AMS culture and governance land on individuals — I think many former executives would describe the immense toll of the role, the sense of always waiting to be undermined by people they trusted. That's a problem for individuals, but as we've seen, it's also a problem for students at large.
There's not going to be a "Drédyn Fontana Memorial" — no more health and dental plan, or anything that dramatic. It won't be that obvious. But the cost is real, and it will affect students. Workplace culture matters. How an organization handles employment matters. It might make for a fun Reddit story, or a funny thing to talk about on a podcast — people joking that the two of them should just box it out — but there's a real effect here, and I think that's the main takeaway.
Sophie Clark
Well, thank you so much, Quyen, for coming on. I hope students benefit from this — I certainly learned a lot, especially as a second-year, and there's a whole new group of students right now just learning about the AMS, and about Drédyn Fontana, for the first time through our coverage. Glad you were able to join.
Quyen Schroeder
Of course — happy to be on. Long-time listener, long-time caller. Thanks for having me.
[THEME MUSIC]
Sophie Clark
Of course. Before we go, let's take a look at this week's stories. In Arts and Culture, September's edition of Culture Queue, curated by film critic Selina Hay, offers insight into Vancouver's bustling film, music, theatre, visual arts, and community scenes.
In News, governance reporter Annika Gill writes on the appointment of Leonard Foster as dean of graduate studies and his vision for the future of the program.
In Sports, men's soccer reporter Holden Sullivan analyzes the Thunderbirds' victory over Trinity Western University earlier this week, despite a game delayed by injury. You can read all of these pieces at ubyssey.ca, which publishes every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
In today's episode of The Vilest Rag, you heard from Quyen Schroeder, The Ubyssey's Opinion Editor, and myself, Sophie Clark, The Ubyssey's Audio Producer. Audio clips were sourced by Who Is, with Ross Oteri. This episode was edited by Sophie Clark, and the music is by Dylan Fitzhenry.
This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.
