Articoli di riviste sul tema "Roads – Canada – Maps"

Destruction of human-built structures occurs in the ‘wildland–urban interface’ (WUI) – where homes or other burnable community structures meet with or are interspersed within wildland fuels. To mitigate WUI fires, basic information such as the location of interface areas is required, but such information is not available in Canada. Therefore, in this study, we produced the first national map of WUI in Canada. We also extended the WUI concept to address potentially vulnerable industrial structures and infrastructure that are not traditionally part of the WUI, resulting in two additional maps: a ‘wildland–industrial interface’ map (i.e. the interface of wildland fuels and industrial structures, denoted here as WUI-Ind) and a ‘wildland–infrastructure interface’ map (i.e. the interface of wildland fuels and infrastructure such as roads and railways, WUI-Inf). All three interface types (WUI, WUI-Ind, WUI-Inf) were defined as areas of wildland fuels within a variable-width buffer (maximum distance: 2400m) from potentially vulnerable structures or infrastructure. Canada has 32.3 million ha of WUI (3.8% of total national land area), 10.5 million ha of WUI-Ind (1.2%) and 109.8 million ha of WUI-Inf (13.0%). The maps produced here provide a baseline for future research and have a wide variety of practical applications.

No national long-term monitoring system exists to estimate temporal changes in the area of forests within Canada. Changes in wooded area, defined as land at least 35% covered by trees or shrubs with a minimum height of 2 m, were estimated for two study areas in central Saskatchewan, Canada. Sequential editions of 1 : 50 000 topographic maps were digitized and analyzed with a geographic information system to quantify changes in wooded area over approximately three decades for the Waskesiu Hills landscape (53°45' N, 106°15' W) and the Red Deer River landscape (52°45' N, 103°00' W). Both study areas were located within the Boreal Plain Ecozone, which was predominantly boreal forest prior to the past century of agricultural land clearing. In the 4570–km2 Waskesiu Hills landscape, wooded area decreased by 164 km2 between 1963 and 1990. In the 4692–km2 Red Deer River landscape, wooded area decreased by 371 km2 in between 1957 and 1990. Estimated mean annual rates of change in wooded area were –0.19%·year–1 and –0.43%·year–1 for the former and latter landscapes, respectively. Losses of wooded area were not proportional across three land-use classes. Rates of change for wooded area were small in parks (0.10%·year–1 and–1.02%·year–1) and commercial forests (0.10%·year–1 and 0.22%·year–1), and larger in predominantly agricultural zones (–1.27%·year–1 and –1.21%·year–1 for the Waskesiu Hills landscape and Red Deer River landscape, respectively). These measured declines in wooded area do not account for losses due to roads, transmission lines, buildings, and other features not represented on topographic maps in an area-proportional manner, but this error is estimated to be very small. The total length of roads increased by 95 km (0.27%·year–1 between 1963 and 1990) in the Waskesiu Hills landscape and by 507 km (0.74%·year–1 between 1957 and 1990) in the Red Deer River landscape. Expanding infrastructure networks were contrasted by negative rates of change for human population (–0.89%·year–1 between 1961 and 1991 for the Waskesiu Hills region and –1.19%·year–1 between 1956 and 1991 for the Red Deer River region). Within the two study areas, wooded lands that are unprotected by legislation remain vulnerable to future deforestation. Continued clearing of extant forests could jeopardize potential carbon gains from afforestation and reforestation initiatives presently being considered for marginal agricultural lands in western Canada.

Inclusive knowledge systems that engage local perspectives and social and natural sciences are difficult to generate and infuse into decision-making processes but are critical for conservation planning. This paper explores local tacit knowledge application to identify wildlife locations, movement patterns and heightened opportunities and barriers for connectivity conservation planning in a critical linkage area known as the Chignecto Isthmus in the eastern Canadian provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. Thirty-four local hunters, loggers, farmers and others with strong tacit knowledge of wildlife and the land participated in individual interviews and group workshops, both of which engaged participatory mapping. Individuals’ data were digitised, analysed and compiled into thematic series of maps, which were refined through participatory, consensus-based workshops. Locations of key populations and movement patterns for several species were delineated, predominantly for terrestrial mammals and migratory birds. When comparing local tacit-knowledge-based maps with those derived from formal-natural-science models, key differences and strong overlap were apparent. Local participants provided rich explanatory and complementary data. Their engagement in the process fostered knowledge transfer within the group and increased confidence in their experiential knowledge and its value for decision making. Benefits derived from our study for conservation planning in the region include enhanced spatial data on key locations of wildlife populations and movement pathways and local insights into wildlife changes over time. Identified contributing factors primarily relate to habitat degradation and fragmentation from human activities (i.e., land use and cover changes caused by roads and forestry practices), thereby supporting the need for conservation measures. The generated knowledge is important for consideration in local planning initiatives; it addresses gaps in existing formal-science data and validates or ground truths the outputs of existing computer-based models of wildlife habitat and movement pathways within the context of the complex social-ecological systems of the place and local people. Critically, awareness of the need for conservation and the value of the participants’ shared knowledge has been enhanced, with potential influence in fostering local engagement in wildlife conservation and other planning initiatives. Consistent with other studies, engagement of local people and their tacit knowledge was found to (i) provide important insights, knowledge translation, and dissemination to complement formal, natural science, (ii) help build a more inclusive knowledge system grounded in the people and place, and (iii) lend support to conservation action for connectivity planning and human-wildlife co-existence. More broadly, our methods demonstrate an effective approach for representing differences and consensus among participants’ spatial indications of wildlife and habitat as a means of co-producing knowledge in participatory mapping for conservation planning.

The safety of locations operating under high-speed conditions could significantly differ from that of locations operating under low-speed conditions. Therefore, different approaches must be adopted when speed and safety are analyzed and managed at locations operating under different regimes. However, it is necessary first to understand the factors affecting the speed–collision classification of a site. Locations operating under high speeds are typically expected to have more collisions compared with locations in which speeds are low. Some locations, however, might experience a high collision rate even when speeds are low, or vice versa. This study aimed to identify the factors that affected the site classification into any of those categories by using data collected on roads in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Locations were divided into four speed–collision bins (high collision, high speed; high collision, low speed; low collision, high speed; low collision, low speed), and geographic information system maps of locations were produced to explore the spatial distribution of those locations. Moreover, logistic regression was used to understand the role of different factors in identifying the speed–collision bin to which a certain location belonged. The results reveal that locations with high collision rates but low speeds have a relatively high population of heavy vehicles and trucks as well as high speed variability. As for locations with low collision rates and high speeds, these sites were found to have a high level of protection through the presence of medians and shoulders with relatively low access density.

Airborne Laser Scanning systems with light detection and ranging (LiDAR) technology is one of the fast and accurate 3D point data acquisition techniques. Generating accurate digital terrain and/or surface models (DTM/DSM) is the main application of collecting LiDAR range data. Recently, LiDAR range and intensity data have been used for land cover classification applications. Data range and Intensity, (strength of the backscattered signals measured by the LiDAR systems), are affected by the flying height, the ground elevation, scanning angle and the physical characteristics of the objects surface. These effects may lead to uneven distribution of point cloud or some gaps that may affect the classification process. Researchers have investigated the conversion of LiDAR range point data to raster image for terrain modelling. Interpolation techniques have been used to achieve the best representation of surfaces, and to fill the gaps between the LiDAR footprints. Interpolation methods are also investigated to generate LiDAR range and intensity image data for land cover classification applications. In this paper, different approach has been followed to classifying the LiDAR data (range and intensity) for land cover mapping. The methodology relies on the classification of the point cloud data based on their range and intensity and then converted the classified points into raster image. The gaps in the data are filled based on the classes of the nearest neighbour. Land cover maps are produced using two approaches using: (a) the conventional raster image data based on point interpolation; and (b) the proposed point data classification. A study area covering an urban district in Burnaby, British Colombia, Canada, is selected to compare the results of the two approaches. Five different land cover classes can be distinguished in that area: buildings, roads and parking areas, trees, low vegetation (grass), and bare soil. The results show that an improvement of around 10 % in the classification results can be achieved by using the proposed approach.

Abstract AML (acute myeloid leukemia) is frequently treated with intensive induction and consolidation chemotherapy that often requires prolonged admissions to hospital. Our group and others demonstrated that consolidation chemotherapy for AML can be safely and effectively administered to selected patients on an ambulatory basis. However, this ambulatory care is centralized in quaternary centers, requiring some patients to travel long distances to these specialized centres. Recently, we developed a shared care model where patients receive their consolidation chemotherapy for AML at the specialized quaternary care center, but receive post-consolidation supportive care including blood checks, transfusions, and treatment for febrile neutropenia at their local hospitals. Here, we reviewed the impact of our new model of care with a focus on savings in travel time and distance. Between 2009-2013, 73 patients with AML (n=61,) or APL (n=12) received post-consolidation care after CR1 at 14 local centers in the province of Ontario. These centers were regional cancer centers staffed by oncologists and/or hematologists experienced in the management of cytopenias and febrile neutropenia. However, these centers did not provide induction or consolidation chemotherapy for AML. Patients were seen at least weekly as out-patients at these hospitals while recovering from their consolidation chemotherapy. These centers were located a median of 70 km (range: 36-190) from the quaternary centre (The Princess Margaret Cancer Centre in Toronto, Canada). The 73 patients received 137 cycles of intensive consolidation where the post-consolidation care was provided by their local centre. The local centers treated a median of 2 patients (range of 1-19 patients) during the time frame evaluated. Patients receiving shared care had a median age of 57 years (range: 21.7-78.6) and 40 (54.8%) were male. 7 (9.6%) had favourable, 42 (57.5%) had intermediate, 6 (8.2%) had poor and 18 (24.7%) had indeterminate cytogenetic profiles. Google Maps (www.google.ca/maps) was used to calculate the distance travelled and estimated travel time between the patient's home and the quaternary centre or their local centre. Use of toll roads was permitted to achieve the fastest and shortest distance. Patients in the shared care model travelled a mean distance of 99.5 km ± 57.8 (median: 87.8 range: 28.4-266 km) each way to the quaternary care centre versus 26.3 km ± 33.6 (median: 14.5 range: 0.55-211 km) each way to their local treatment centre (p <0.001 for difference in means by t-test). The estimated mean time to travel from their home to the quaternary center was 71.6 ± 38 minutes (median: 62 range: 29-170) and the estimated time to travel to their local center was 23.3 ± 21.9 minutes (median: 18 range: 2-137) (p <0.001 for difference in means by t-test). Thus, by receiving post-consolidation care locally, patients saved a mean round trip travel distance of 146.5 km ± 99.6 and 96.7 min ± 63.4 of round trip travel time per visit compared to travelling to the quaternary care centre. To assess the safety and efficacy of the shared care model, we compared the survival of the patients who received shared care to that of the other 344 patients with AML (n=297) or APL (n=47) who received consolidation chemotherapy in CR1 during the same time frame and remained at the quaternary care centre for all of their post-consolidation care. Gender, age and cytogenetic risk did not significantly differ between the shared care group and the group of patients receiving all of their care at the quaternary center (p>0.05). There was no significant difference in overall survival between the 2 groups (p value of log-rank test >0.05). 30, 60, and 90 day survival from start of consolidation chemotherapy was 98.6%, 97.2%, and 95.9% for the patients receiving shared care and 98.8%, 97.1%, and 95.3% for patients receiving all of their care at the quaternary center. Multivariate Cox proportional hazards model revealed no significant increase in hazard of death for the Shared Care patients compared to control when controlling for age, gender, AML vs. APL and cytogenetic prognosis (p value >0.05). Thus, a collaborative care delivery model utilizing partnerships with regional centres for post-consolidation care in AML reduces patient travel burden while maintaining safety and efficacy. Disclosures No relevant conflicts of interest to declare.

This reflection on community-driven research in process is written from the perspective of graduate student co-researchers collaborating with Wabanaki community co-researchers on a pilot project involving a Wabanaki and a non-Indigenous organization. Three Nations Education Group Inc. (TNEGI) represents three Wabanaki schools and communities in Northeast Turtle Island. The Child and Nature Alliance of Canada (CNAC) offers a Forest and Nature School Practitioner Course (FNSPC) for educators seeking to operate forest schools. These diverse organizations have developed a pilot FNSPC training for a group of TNEGI educators, with the purpose of Indigenizing the FNSPC. This is necessary to address the Eurocentric forest and nature school practices in Canada, which often fail to recognize the herstories, presence, rights, and diversity of Indigenous Peoples and places. TNEGI educators envision a land-based pedagogy that centers Wabanaki perspectives and merges Indigenous and Western knowledges. In the FNSPC pilot, the co-researchers generated course changes as they progressed through the pilot, decolonizing the content and format as they went. Developing this Indigenized version of the FNSPC will have far-reaching implications for the CNAC Forest School ethos and teacher training delivery. This essay maps our collaborative efforts thus far in creating an ethical research space within this Indigenous/non-Indigenous research initiative and lays out intentions for the road ahead.

Abstract The Indian Ocean is the historic cross-roads of the world. On most measures—linguistic, religious, political, legal, and economic, among others—its diversity is unparalleled. While the region is home to perhaps the most strategically important state actors in an age of intense superpower rivalry, it is equally home to an astonishing range of nonstate actors whose influence and significance should not be underestimated. Many religious, indigenous, and local nonstate actors and networks have a long pedigree, sometimes dating back centuries. Layered on these legacy organizations are a vast range of contemporary nonstate, transnational regulators active in the region. These actors play an increasingly important but overlooked role in global governance and can be effectively engaged in situations where states are unable or unwilling to act. This article explores how Canada and nonstate actors based in Canada and beyond might engage plurilaterally with nonstate actors in the Indian Ocean region.RésuméL'océan Indien est le carrefour historique du monde. Sur la plupart des mesures - linguistiques, religieuses, politiques, juridiques et économiques, entre autres - sa diversité est sans précédent. Et si la région abrite peut-être les acteurs étatiques les plus importants sur le plan stratégique à une époque d'intense rivalité entre superpuissances, elle abrite également une gamme étonnante d'acteurs non étatiques dont l'influence et l'importance ne doivent pas être sous-estimées. De nombreux acteurs et réseaux non étatiques religieux, autochtones et locaux ont un long pedigree, remontant parfois à des siècles. À ces organisations profondément enracinées s'ajoutent une vaste gamme de régulateurs transnationaux non étatiques contemporains actifs dans la région. Ces acteurs jouent un rôle de plus en plus important mais négligé dans la gouvernance mondiale et peuvent être efficacement engagés dans des situations où les États ne peuvent pas ou ne veulent pas agir. Cet article explore comment le Canada et les acteurs non étatiques basés au Canada et au-delà pourraient s'engager de manière multilatérale avec des acteurs non étatiques dans la région de l'océan Indien.Keywords: nonstate actors; Indian Ocean region/Indo-Pacific; global governance; sovereignty; pluralism; transnational regulation; plurilateral diplomacyMots-clés : acteurs non étatiques; région de l'océan Indien/indo-pacifique; gouvernance globale; souveraineté; pluralisme; régulation transnationales; diplomatie plurilatérale

The majority vote by the General Assembly, which brought the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples into existence as an international instrument, was just the first step. Now the long and difficult road of implementation begins. Implementation requires the application of international law in a specific national context. This article explores the potential obstacles to implement the UN Declaration in Canada and suggest avenues to overcome these obstacles. This article concludes that the main obstacle is not a legal one, but rather a lack of political will. Given the limited understandings of the UN Declaration as an international instrument and how international law applies in Canada, this article provides an overview of the significance of a Declaration in international law and also explains how international law applies in Canada. The main recommendation to promote implementation is greater education on the UN Declaration. However, there are also many actions that Indigenous peoples, lawyers and advocates can take to promote implementation in legal and political domains that are discussed at the end of the article. Le vote majoritaire de l’Assemblée générale, qui a donné naissance à la Déclaration des Nations unies sur les droits des peuples autochtones comme instrument international, était la toute première étape. Commence maintenant le long et difficile parcours vers sa mise en œuvre. Cette mise en œuvre requiert l’application du droit international dans un contexte national particulier. Le présent article examine les obstacles potentiels à la mise en œuvre de la Déclaration des Nations unies au Canada et propose des avenues pour surmonter ces obstacles. Cet article conclut que le principal obstacle n’est pas de nature juridique, mais réside dans l’absence de volonté politique. Étant donné que la Déclaration des Nations unies en tant qu’instrument international et la façon dont le droit international s’applique au Canada ne sont pas bien compris, cet article offre un aperçu de la signification d’une Déclaration en droit international et explique également comment le droit international s’applique au Canada. Pour promouvoir sa mise en œuvre, on recommande principalement une éducation accrue concernant la Déclaration des Nations unies. Il existe en outre bon nombre de mesures que les peuples autochtones, les avocats et les défenseurs de droits peuvent prendre pour encourager sa mise en œuvre dans les milieux juridiques et politiques. Ces mesures sont abordées à la fin de l’article.

Abstract. In urban areas, air quality is the outcome of multiple emission sources, each emitting a different combination of air pollutants. The result is a complex mixture of pollutants with a different spatiotemporal variability for each constituent. Studies exploring average spatial patterns across urban areas typically rely on air quality monitoring networks of a few sites, short multi-site saturation monitoring campaigns measuring a limited number of pollutants and/or air quality models. Each of these options has limitations. This study elucidates the main complexities of urban air quality with respect to small scale spatial differences for multiple pollutants so as to gain a better understanding of the variability in exposure estimates in urban areas. Mobile measurements of 23 air pollutants were taken at high resolution in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, and examined with respect to space, time and their interrelationships. The same route was systematically followed on 34 measurement days spread over different seasons and measurements were compared to adjacent air quality monitoring network stations. This approach allowed linkage of the mobile measurements to the network observations and to generate average maps that provide reliable information on the typical, annual average spatial pattern. Sharp differences in the spatial distribution were found to exist between different pollutants on the sub-urban scale, i.e. the neighbourhood to street scales, even for pollutants usually associated with the same specific sources. Nearby microenvironments may have a wide range in average pollution levels varying by up to 300%, which may cause large misclassification errors in estimating chronic exposures in epidemiological studies. For example, NO2 measurements next to a main road microenvironment are shown to be 210–265% higher than levels measured at a nearby urban background monitoring site, while black carbon is higher by 180–200% and ultrafine particles are 300% higher. For some pollutants (e.g. SO2 and benzene), there is good correspondence on a large scale due to similar emission sources, but differences on a small scale in proximity to these sources. Moreover. hotspots of different pollutants were identified and quantified. These results demonstrate the ability of an independent heavily instrumented mobile laboratory survey to quantify the representativeness of the monitoring sites to unmonitored locations, reveal the complex relationships between pollutants and understand chronic multi-pollutant exposure patterns associated with outdoor concentrations in an urban environment.

Full TextThe Barn Owl The Barn Owl (Tyto alba) is a medium-sized, tawny coloured owl that, with the exception of Antarctica, has worldwide distribution. Like most owls the Barn Owl is considered to be nocturnal. Like all owls, it is predatory bird. In the Barn Owl’s case, members of the species are said to enjoy (or specialize, in the biological parlance) in small ground mammals—rodents, for example. In Eastern North America, the majority of their diet would include Meadow Voles (Microtus pennsylvanicus) and Deer Mice (Peromyscus maniculatus). Barn Owls strike a distinct-look with their lack of ear tufts (a misnomer of sorts as the tufts—the “horns” of a Great Horned Owl, Bubo virginianus—are not ears and not associated with hearing at all) and their distinct heart-shaped facial disc (which is associated with hearing, but that’s another story for another time). As their common name suggests they can be found living in barns, on a nest made from the regurgitated un-digestible remains of those Meadow Voles and Deer Mice they hunt. Of course Barn Owls are not just limited to barns, but nest in silos, abandoned buildings and tree cavities too. Arguably, this should make their name “Barn, Silo, Abandoned Building & Tree Cavity Owl” but that doesn’t really roll off the tongue in the same way. These attributes and distinguishing features are all things to keep in mind if you find yourself out birdwatching near a barn in Southern Ontario. During your explorations, while there are certain to be Rock Pigeons (Columba livia) fluttering about, if you happen to come across a Barn Owl in this setting, you should take notice. Seeing a Barn Owl in Southern Ontario (especially a living Barn Owl) is something to make special note of—it’s not a regular occurrence. Part of the significance of seeing a Barn Owl lies in its relative in-abundance. While individuals identified as Tyto alba enjoy a cosmopolitan reputation, Southern Ontario has been considered the northern range of the species (“Ontario Barn Own Recovery Project,” 2005) and it has been suggested that Barn Owls have always found, say, other places more to their liking. Because of this, the Barn Owl is a special bird in Canada: it is officially endangered, recognized by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC) (“Ontario Barn Own Recovery Project,” 2005). It seems as though Barn Owls living in Ontario have had bad luck of late— of the “handful” (“Ontario Barn Own Recovery Project,” 2005 ¶ 4) that have been seen since 1999, two were roadkills (“Ontario Barn Own Recovery Project,” 2005) and no breeding pairs have been “confirmed.” The Barn Owl of February 27th 2006 If you are a serious birder in Ontario, with a computer and internet access, it is likely that you are aware of the electronic mailing list called Ontbirds. Ontbirds is presented by the self-proclaimed provincial birding association, the Ontario Field Ornithologists. The electronic mailing list (or listserv) is meant to be a clearing-house of bird sightings and directions for interested birders: you read about a bird you would like to see, get the directions and off you go on a (perhaps literal) wild goose chase. On average, four to seven sightings are posted daily. As might be expected, more posting occurs on the weekend, and more postings occur seasonally during spring and fall migration. Typical emails follow a standard form: the subject line contains the bird or birds seen and their location while the body of the email contains more specific information about the birds and precise directions to the location they might be found. While thorough, the information shared is, generally speaking, pretty uncontentious stuff. So, it was with interest that a seemingly normal post on February 28th, 2006 took on new dimensions: whispers of deception, accusation of fraud and, more interestingly for my work, questions of what is normal, known and natural all emerged. On February 28th, 2006, a simple posting appeared in mailboxes of subscribers outlining how a photograph had been taken of a Barn Owl and posted on a webbased photography site. A URL was given linking to the photograph. It was noted that the photographer had not reported seeing the bird on the Ontbirds listserv, but that there was a link to the location where the bird was seen. That same day, the moderator of the listserv posted reminding the subscribers that the Barn Owl was considered “endangered” on breeding territory and that there were rules about posting about endangered birds on the listserv; all of the requirements that needed to be met prior to posting were created in order to reduce the likelihood that an observed bird would abandon a nest or breeding attempt. The following day, March 1st, a conversation had begun via the listserv. Another respondent was interested in knowing more details about the sighting and if the bird had been seen again. The next email later that day was from the photographer himself. In the email, he explained that though he did not remember exactly where he saw the bird, he used Google maps to locate the general location and road names. According to his directions, the Barn Owl was seen in Eastern Ontario, in the Ottawa region. As well, he shared the story of finding the owl, taking the photograph and watching the bird fly away from him. The author also stated that his initial reason for going out birding that day was to find Snowy Owls to photograph and that he had no luck in finding those birds that day. On March 2nd, another email arrived from another Ontbirds subscriber. In it, the author began to question the authenticity of the photograph. This email suggested that the owl’s feet have been “doctored,” as though something was removed after the photograph had been taken. The author reminded those reading that the Barn Owl is rare for Ontario and especially so where the photograph was taken—the implication being that the bird is so rare that it most likely didn’t exist. A third email followed on March 2nd in which the author suggests that there is nothing in the photograph that appears unusual or doctored. The author offered another suggestion about the authenticity of the owl. He reminded us that there was a Barn Owl sighting in a different part of Ontario earlier in the winter and attributes the owl’s presence not to digital photographic magic, but to efforts undertaken on the part of humans to help the species recover. Yet, this claim to reality does not seem to be working. Later in the afternoon on March 2nd, a fourth email arrived that supports the initial hypothesis that the photograph has been doctored. The author shared that the bird looks like one he had seen at Parc Omega, a wildlife park in Québec, and provides a URL to a photograph of the Parc Omega Barn Owl. The pull of the network to make the photograph unauthentic, and in turn, the owl, continues to mount. In a fifth email, the author shared the contention that the fencepost the Barn Owl is pictured perching on was specially made for captive birds to land on. The author also suggested that given the lighting of the photograph and kind of weather that was observed on the day that the photograph was supposed to have been taken, the photograph could not be discounted as being genuine. This is where the conversation ends on Ontbirds. At 5:30 pm on March 2nd, the listserv co-ordinator posted a message that states that the current conversation on the photographed Barn Owl is inappropriate. The coordinator reminded readers that Ontbirds is not a discussion list and is for “reporting birds period.” The closing line in the email reminds readers that not following the guidelines could result in the restriction or loss of being able to post to the listerv. This does not mean, however, that the conversation ended. In following the network thread to a website that catalogues rare birds from the Ottawa area, the sighting details for the Barn Owl seen on February 27th is prefaced with the words “LIKELY HOAX.” The page author outlines a litany of evidence that supports his claim that the image has been manipulated. The webpage author concludes his outline with the statement “let the viewer beware.” Enacting birds: reflection on the Barn Owl of February 27th I have spent some time thinking about the birders and the Barn Owl. I have read and reflected on the emails and the allegations. From this, themes have emerged concerning the construction of what is natural as well as insights into the creation of what Donna Haraway (2003) calls "naturecultures." Most importantly, this event, be it framed as authentic bird sighting or elaborate hoax, helps enact and make visible a topology of inter-species ethical relations between those who watch birds and the birds they watch. Networks Ontbirds operates within an established network of relations. People post their sightings to share with other interested birders. The process through which experiences are transcribed from embodied encounters to textual references is seemingly an invisible one. In this case, there were visible deviations from the established network. Within the birding community that posts to Ontbirds, the claim to have "found" a bird is an important one. In posts where the author is reporting a first-sighting and they did not find the bird themselves, the name of the bird finder (skilled, lucky or otherwise, as it is never suggested the kind of effort it took to come across the bird) is included. In this example, the finder did not make a submission to Ontbirds to report a rare bird. Rather, it seems like in this case, the original post came via an on-line gallery created by the finder that had the photograph and birding information on it. While never overtly stated, I believe that the authenticity of the Barn Owl was partially called into question due to the fact that the finder of the bird did not post his sighting to the listserv. Additionally, I find interesting to note that in the finder's one email to the Ontbirds listserv, he did his best to fit into the established network. However, problematic for him, he was not familiar with the area where he took the photograph. Part of the established Ontbirds network is knowing where you observed a bird; the more detailed the description of location and directions, the better. In networks, effort is required to maintain the relationships of the actors. The listserv tends to operate with little of what I would call boundary policing on the part of the co-ordinator. What is particularly interesting about the Barn Owl postings was the need of the Ontbirds co-ordinator to make comments concerning the type and quality of postings over the three day period, all referencing the mail about the Barn Owl. In well-established networks, subtle deviations from the established routine lead to powerful reactions: networks tend to become visible when they are threatened. The questioning of the authenticity seems to be such a reaction. What this suggests for a birding network is the power that lies in the focus on names, dates and details. This hybridity that exists between birders and the electronic mailing list certainly has implications in shaping what is considered normal, known and natural for those who subscribe to the list. Birds are enacted through Ontbirds as realities "out there" to be discovered, recorded and reported. While this is not necessarily that surprising, it does, in turn have an impact on other enactments of birds, especially visible in the multiple objects created. Multiple objects In this case there was an exceeding focus by birders on the rarity of the bird, to the point where I believe that the Barn Owl became a multiple object. Emerging from the field of Science and Technology studies, the idea of multiple objects opens a different way to think about the taken-for-granted: objects are often thought of as rigid and immobile in their existence - a Barn Owl will always be a Barn Owl (for a detailed discussion of multiple objects, see Law, 2004; Mol, 2002). In response to this, a multiple version of the object counters this notion of singularity. In focusing on the fractal nature of "reality" and in attending to difference, I believe that this perspective requires attention be paid to the enactment of objects. Enactment, in this sense, is the claim that "relations, and so realities and representations of realities...are being endlessly or chronically brought into being in a continuing process of production and reproduction, and have no status, standing or reality outside those processes" (Law, 2004, p. 159). Enactment is different than constructivism as it does not "imply convergence to singularity," in opposition to the fixing of objects' identities, "but takes difference and multiplicity to be chronic conditions" (Law, 2004, p. 158). Difference suggests that multiple versions of the same object can exist simultaneouslythis occurs because while objects are enacted in practice, these practices can be different. If the practices are different, then so too must be the objects (Law, 2004). Yet these multiple versions-or multiple objectsare, more often than not, able to cohere together. So, if these coherences shape our reality, then reality: is not in principal fixed or singular, and truth is no longer the only ground for accepting or rejecting a representation. The implication is that there are various possible reasons, including the political, for enacting one kind of reality rather than another, and that these grounds can in some measure be debated. (Law, 2004, p. 162) As such, a focus on the enactment of objects is filled with attention to the many ways that actors, human and otherwise, engage to create a reality: a reality described through investigation, a reality that is not the only one "out there" and a reality that focuses on heterogeneity and difference. In the move to collapse multiple realities into one, a distinctly political move is made, where one reality, one particular enactment of an object gains primacy over the others. In this particular becoming of the Barn Owl, the enactment of rarity overshadowed the other ways the bird was known (see Figure 1). Rather than having to pass judgement on if I think the Barn Owl was properly enacted, I think it is more valuable to examine the ways the bird was enacted. Let me outline the different ways (that I can see): - as a rare bird species (through the Ontbirds coordinator, external web pages and some birders' previous knowledge) - as a biological reality (through the email that suggested the Owl was a result of species rebound and human conservation efforts) - as digital magic (many of the claims to digital alteration of the photograph enacted this Barn Owl) - as an Eastern Ontario Barn Owl (through the initial posting) - as an Québec Barn Owl (through the claims it came from Parc Omega) There have also been subtle and tacit ways that the authenticity has been enacted, framed through the network of discovery, recording and reporting previously described. Through these discourses, the Barn Owl has been enacted as a: - valuable, wild bird - feral bird of ambivalent worth - wildlife park captive and therefore does not count In this multiplicity, the Barn Owl lost value in the eyes of some birders as its authenticity was called into question. What is implicit in this questioning is the understanding that there is some kind of a continuum that reported birds are judged against. It seems that the gold standard of authenticity is one that is wild, rare and (relatively) easy to find. It goes without saying that this perspective is not entirely unproblematic. This, in part, helps explain why there are not any postings to Ontbirds describing a flock of Pigeons seen in a ubiquitous habitat, such as the urbanized core of Anytown, Ontario. A Pigeon simply does not match up to the gold standard of valuable birds. In deciding what gets to "count" in knowledge-making endeavours, and what counts as the gold standard, other birds disappear from what is noticed. In that disappearance, the bird moves to the hinterland. I turn to that next. The hinterland and otherness Hinterland's are an attempt to engage with the act of disappearing. Law puts forward three kinds of Hinterland's: the first, he suggest are "in-here objects" (Law, 2004, p. 55); the second are "visible or relevant out-there contexts" (Law, 2004, p. 55); and the third are "out-there processes, contexts, and all the rest, that are both necessary and necessarily disappear from visibility or relevance" (Law, 2004, p. 55). I would deploy an artistic metaphor of positive space and negative space here: that which is present is the positive space of an image and that which is absent is negative space of an image. It is often difficult to decide if it is the negative or positive space that bounds the image: each side depends on the other such that if one is not there, the known image would disappear. Perhaps, if I expand the metaphor, the hidden absent is that which is not within the frame of the image. Importantly, all that lies outside the frame, while unnecessary in the composition of the image, is only unnecessary because it has been selectively ignored in the composition of the image. Emerging from this perspective on the hinterland is the acknowledgement that a relationship with the unknown, or the other, is necessary; rather than simply ignoring the disappearance, it is an attempt to acknowledge that disappearance is integral to any kind of knowing. Thus, if birding, as an act, continues the "process [of] enacting necessary boundaries between presence, manifest absence and Otherness" (Law, 2004, p. 144), then the various activities taken up in the name of coming to know these organisms are each a distinctly political move, moves that shape and reaffirm (mostly conventional) ways of knowing the nonhuman. For example, the second post in this chain made explicit that the individual Barn Owl was, in fact, part of larger species, Tyto alba and that species was considered to be an endangered one. The term endangered species does just that: focus on species, at the expense of the individual. In this organism's identification as a member of a species, it loses any ability to be something else; what could be has been othered. This act of othering is at times common in birdwatching. It occurs more than once in the Barn Owl discussion: through the questioning about the validity of the sighting, the focus subtly shifts from the sighting to determining the authenticity of the photograph. Again, in this move the individual owl disappears. The Barn Owl was not the only member of the order Aves to be othered in this particular natureculture assemblage. It is also interesting to note that the Snowy Owls, the birds that were the original objective of the outing that produced the Barn Owl, have disappeared. Likely, there were other birds seen during that trip, but for whatever reason (perhaps not rare, not big, not charismatic), they were ignored. For my purposes, I consider this othering problematic, in part, because it does little to acknowledge the lived experiences of nonhuman individuals. The challenge here is that the act of othering, in and of itself, is not inherently wrong. Rather than focusing on what might be out there, I believe that it is important to be able to recognize enactments that are politically aligned with the kind of relationships that ought to exist. So, one needs to develop the skill of attending to what is observably cast to the hinterland and what is brought to the forefront. In a sense, this is what I've attempted to do with my analysis of the Barn Owl narrative and the creation of the enacted set of relations in Figure 1. In creating this particular map of relations, I attempt to move beyond the established frame and re-focus on those multiple enactments that have been cast aside. In so doing, political actions and entrenched positions are more easily visible, while others can re-emerge from obscurity. It is true that there might be other unknowable enactments that exist in the hinterland-but let me suggest that acknowledging that, at best, partial perspectives (Haraway, 1991) are our best version of reality (as a nod to multiplicity does) offers more space for other realities to emerge. Thinking more generally about our dominant cultural relationship with the nonhuman, the promise of attentiveness to the various enactments of animals offer the opportunity to intentionally enact a reality that is more in line with one's own ethics. In asking what practices of birding are good or which practices ought we to be enacting, attention can be turned to current enactments to ask: "Ought they be enacted in this way?" This simple question, paired with the knowledge that there are other enactments hidden, could be enough to continue to question some of our Western culture's taken-forgranted assumptions about what it is to be human and otherwise. References Haraway, D. (1991). Situated knowledges: The science question in feminism and the privilege of partial perspective. In Simians, Cyborgs, and Women: the reinvention of nature (pp. 183-202). Routledge: New York. Haraway, D. (2003). The companion species manifesto: dogs, people, and significant otherness. Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press. Law, J. (2004). After method: mess in social science research. London: Routledge. Mol, A. (2002). The body multiple: ontology in medical practice. Durham: Duke University Press. Ontario Barn Own Recovery Project. (2005, February 7). Retrieved March 4, 2006, from http://www.bsc-eoc.org/regional/barnowl.html

Habitat occupancy models were developed for 10 vertebrate species that we expected would demonstrate a gradient of response to extensive losses of lodgepole pine (Pinus contorta) and other linked habitat alterations resulting from the mountain pine beetle (Dendroctonus ponderosae) infestation and gradual changes in regional climate. A process-based Bayesian Belief Network approach was used to develop interlinked species models focussed at two levels of land management: (1) the forest stand level including changes in forest overstorey and understorey species composition, within-stand structures, canopy closure, and amounts of standing and fallen deadwood; and (2) the landscape level including changes in size of habitat patches, seral stage composition, and proximity to roads. We also considered indirect influences of broad ecological changes including alteration of some key species interactions (e.g., displacementfrom preferred habitat and [or] increased risk of mortality). We used results of this modelling to provide preliminary predictions of species occupancy in a large area of British Columbia designated by the Nature Conservancy of Canada as their Central Interior ecoregion. This work demonstrates an approach to building species occupancy models capable of representing the effects of large-scale disturbances on habitat supply at both the stand and landscape levels of habitat management. The resultant occupancy maps are also useful when integrated into various strategic planning initiatives including species recovery, silvicultural investments, and long-term conservation planning.

À l’heure où l’espace que nous habitons est de plus en plus façonné par les outils numériques, pouvons-nous le façonner en l’éditorialisant ? La littérature peut-elle constituer un outil de production de l’espace ? Peut-elle nous permettre de nous réapproprier les lieux et les territoires en apparence dépossédés de toute valeur littéraire par les géants de l'information ? Pour le savoir, l’équipe de la Chaire de recherche du Canada sur les Écritures numériques a mis en place en 2015 un projet de recherche-action le long de l'autoroute transcanadienne. Cette route mythique qui traverse le Canada d’un océan à l’autre a en effet donné lieu à une large série de productions médiatiques : des images, des vidéos, des cartes, des textes d’histoire, des données numériques, mais aussi des récits littéraires. C’est ainsi que des infrastructures comme l’autoroute, les motels, se mêlent au discours et à l’imaginaire pour construire l'espace. Afin d’étudier cet espace hybride, nous avons entrepris de sillonner nous-mêmes l’autoroute transcanadienne dans un voyage qui nous a menés de Montréal à Calgary. Nous avons rendu compte en temps réel de notre road-trip sur différents réseaux sociaux, de manière à comprendre comment la littérature participe à la production de l'espace à l'ère du numérique en proposant différentes stratégies d'éditorialisation.

Abstract Climate change is disproportionately impacting the North, and northern arthropods are particularly vulnerable to disturbances. The Dempster Highway is a gravel road that crosses the northern Yukon Territory in Canada, and wolf spiders (Araneae: Lycosidae) are the top arthropod predators on the tundra in this region. We investigated the effects of the Dempster Highway on subarctic tundra wolf spider abundance, phenology, and community composition by actively sampling 8 paired plots near (20 m) and far (200 m) from the road. Species richness did not differ with distance from the road, but total wolf spider abundance was much lower near the road, and this was driven by decreased abundance of the dominant tundra wolf spider species, Pardosa lapponica (Thorell, 1872). The overall proportion of females carrying egg sacs was higher near the road, suggesting advanced phenology in response to increased temperatures near the road. Together, these results indicate that the Dempster Highway impacts tundra wolf spider communities, which may have important consequences for food web dynamics and ecosystem function. Les changements climatiques ont un impact plus important sur le Nord, et les arthropodes nordiques sont particulièrement vulnérables aux perturbations. La route Dempster est une route de gravier qui traverse le nord du territoire du Yukon au Canada, et les araignées-loups (Araneae: Lycosidae) sont d’importants prédateurs d’arthropodes de la toundra de cette région. Nous avons étudié les effets de la route Dempster sur l’abondance, la phénologie et la composition de la communauté des araignées-loups de la toundra subarctique en échantillonnant activement huit parcelles appariées proches (20 m) et éloignées (200 m) de la route. La richesse des espèces ne différait pas avec la distance par rapport à la route, mais l’abondance totale d’araignées-loups était inférieure près de la route, et cela peut être attribué à une diminution de l’abondance de l’espèce dominante d’araignées-loups de la toundra, Pardosa lapponica (Thorell, 1872). La proportion globale des femelles portant des cocons était plus élevée près de la route, suggérant une phénologie avancée en réponse à l’augmentation des températures près de la route. Ces résultats indiquent que, globalement, la route Dempster a un impact sur les communautés d’araignées-loups de la toundra, ce qui peut avoir des conséquences importantes sur la dynamique du réseau trophique et le fonctionnement de l’écosystème.

This article examines Norman Levine’s start as a writer while he studied at McGill University from 1946 to 1949 and traces how Levine used his McGill memories afterwards in his writing. We look at Levine’s early poetry and prose; his use of his wartime RCAF flying experience in Britain (foreshadowing his autobiographical fiction); his editorship of the literary magazine Forge and McGill Daily Literary Supplement; his mentor Professor Harold Files; and his M.A. thesis on Ezra Pound. We follow him as he drafts his first novel, The Angled Road and sketches another one; searches for his own literary voice; happily leaves Canada for England; and abandons academe after a frustrating year (1949-50) at the University of London. The article also explores how he used McGill friends and professors as starting points for characters in his stories and thinly disguised them in his nonfictional Canada Made Me. Nostalgic and critical, he said he had enjoyed McGill but could not take it seriously, and blamed the University for giving his writing a false start and seducing him into forgeting his Jewish, working-class roots.ResuméL’écriture de Norman Levine remonte aux années 1946 à 1949, l’époque à laquelle il étudiait à l’Université McGill. Cet article examine le début de sa carrière d’auteur et trace l’influence que ses souvenirs de McGill ont eu plus tard sur ses œuvres. Nous étudions ses premiers travaux en prose et en poésie; son utilisation de son expérience à titre d’aviateur dans le Corps d’aviation royal canadien (qui anticipe sa fiction autobiographique); ses activités d’éditeur des magazines littéraires Forge et McGill Daily Literary Supplement; son guide, le professeur Harold Files; et sa thèse de maîtrise sur Ezra Pound. Nous le suivons alors qu’il rédige une ébauche de son premier roman, The Angled Road, et trace l’esquisse d’un second; qu’il recherche sa propre voix littéraire; qu’il quitte le Canada avec plaisir pour l’Angleterre; et qu’il abandonne le monde universitaire après une année frustrante (1949-1950) à l’Université de Londres. L’article explore aussi la façon dont il a utilisé ses amis et professeurs à McGill comme point de départ pour les personnages dans ses histoires, et les a légèrement déguisé dans son œuvre non romanesque Canada Made Me. Nostalgique et critique, il a déclaré qu’il a aimé McGill mais qu’il ne pouvait pas la prendre au sérieux, et que c’est à cause de l’Université que son écriture s’est dirigée sur une fausse piste et qu’il a oublié ses racines juives de classe ouvrière.

From July 2022 to December 2022, the World Data System (WDS) International Technology (ITO) and International Program (IPO) Offices conducted a review of strategic plans and technical roadmaps of all current WDS members and the set of Canadian repositories that participated in the Digital Research Alliance of Canada's CoreTrustSeal Certification Support and Funding Pilot (Digital Research Alliance of Canada, 2022). In this paper, we describe how a new organizational assessment method was designed and utilized to identify the needs and challenges faced by the WDS and Canadian CTS Pilot members. Our method relied on reviewing public-facing documentation provided by the repositories, with a priority on strategic plans and technical road maps. In total, we reviewed 95 sources of information, including 33 strategic plans and 3 technical roadmaps describing a total of 95 out of the original 147 target organizations. In this paper, we also describe our assessment tool and the overarching challenges and goals we identified through the usage of this tool. Finally, we will describe the limitations of our methodology and provide recommendations from the World Data System on how best to assist the WDS members and the cohort of Canadian data repositories based on our findings.

Background: There is uncertainty about how patients outside of endovascular-capable or Comprehensive Stroke Centers (CSC) access Endovascular treatment (EVT) for acute ischemic stroke. The role of the non-endovascular-capable Primary Stroke Centers (PSC) that can offer thrombolysis with alteplase but not EVT is unclear. A key question is whether average benefit is greater with early thrombolysis at the closest PSC before transportation to the CSC (Drip ‘n Ship), or with PSC by-pass and direct transport to the CSC (Mothership). Ideal transportation options for California, USA and Alberta, Canada were mapped based on the location of their CSCs and PSCs. Methods: For those who received both EVT and alteplase, probability models were developed from the ESCAPE trial’s decay curves for good outcome defined as mRS 0-2 at 90 days. To determine the benefits of alteplase alone, probability models were extracted from the Get-With-The-Guidelines decay curve. The onset to EMS arrival, time on scene, needle-to-door-out time at the PSC, door-to-needle-time (DNT) at the CSC, and door-to-reperfusion time were assumed constant at 30, 25, 20, 30, and 115 minutes, respectively. EMS transportation times were calculated using Google’s Distance Matrix API interfaced with MATLAB’s Mapping Toolbox to create maps demonstrating the transportation scenario resulting in the best outcomes. Six maps were generated for 30, 60, and 90 minute DNT’s at the PSC’s. Results: In the figure, green regions represent a greater probability of good outcome via Mothership, whereas red indicates that Drip ‘n Ship is best. Orange indicates that either option yields a similar outcome (+/- 2.5%). The color tint increases (becomes brighter) as the probability of good outcome decreases. Grey indicates areas with a sparse road network. Conclusions: The role of a PSC in close proximity to a CSC remains significant only when the PSC is able to achieve both a DNT of 30 minutes or less and a needle-to-door out time of 20 minutes.

AbstractThe contraction of species range is one of the most significant symptoms of biodiversity loss worldwide. While anthropogenic activities and habitat alteration are major threats for several species, climate change should also be considered. For species at risk, differentiating the effects of human disturbances and climate change on past and current range transformations is an important step towards improved conservation strategies. We paired historical range maps with global atmospheric reanalyses from different sources to assess the potential effects of recent climate change on the observed northward contraction of the range of boreal populations of woodland caribou (Rangifer tarandus caribou) in Quebec (Canada) since 1850. We quantified these effects by highlighting the discrepancies between different southern limits of the caribou's range (used as references) observed in the past and reconstitutions obtained through the hindcasting of the climate conditions within which caribou are currently found. Hindcasted southern limits moved ~105 km north over time under all reanalysis datasets, a trend drastically different from the ~620 km reported for observed southern limits since 1850. The differences in latitudinal shift through time between the observed and hindcasted southern limits of distribution suggest that caribou range recession should have been only 17% of what has been observed since 1850 if recent climate change had been the only disturbance driver. This relatively limited impact of climate reinforces the scientific consensus stating that caribou range recession in Quebec is mainly caused by anthropogenic drivers (i.e. logging, development of the road network, agriculture, urbanization) that have modified the structure and composition of the forest over the past 160 years, paving the way for habitat‐mediated apparent competition and overharvesting. Our results also call for a reconsideration of past ranges in models aiming at projecting future distributions, especially for endangered species.

<p><strong>Rédacteurs invités: Joanne Lehrer (Université du Québec en Outaouais), Christine Massing (Université de Regina), Scott Hughes (Université Mount Royal), Alaina Roach O’Keefe (Université de l’Île-du-Prince-Édouard)</strong></p><p><strong></strong>Non seulement l’apprentissage professionnel est-il considéré comme essentiel à l’amélioration de la qualité éducative et comme soutien à l’apprentissage et au développement des enfants (par exemple, Lazarri <em>et al.</em>, 2013, Vandenbroeck <em>et al</em>., 2016), mais certains éléments de la formation initiale et continue ont été identifiés comme critiques pour transformer les identités professionnelles et la pratique des éducatrices (en SGÉ) et des enseignantes (au préscolaire). Par exemple, la réflexion critique et soutenue (Thomas et Packer, 2013), les expériences d’apprentissage ciblant des équipes entières (Vangrieken <em>et al</em>, 2016), les pratiques collaboratives qui visent le pouvoir d’agir des praticiennes (Helterbran et Fennimore, 2004) et la direction (Dolmer <em>et al., </em>2008) sont toutes considérées comme des moyens efficaces afin de soutenir l’apprentissage professionnel.</p><p>Bien qu’il semble y avoir consensus dans les écrits sur <em>ce qui doit être fait</em>, et même sur <em>la façon dont cela devrait être fait</em>, de nombreuses contraintes empêchent la mise en œuvre et le maintien d’un système d’apprentissage professionnel durable et transformationnel en éducation à la petite enfance. Vandenbroeck et ses collaborateurs (2016) vont au-delà de l’accent mis sur les individus et les équipes en identifiant deux autres niveaux nécessaires pour des systèmes compétents d’apprentissage professionnel : des partenariats entre les programmes locaux de l’éducation à la petite enfance et les institutions sociales, culturelles et éducatives (collèges et universités); et la gouvernance en matière de vision, de finances et de suivi. Dans le contexte canadien, la <em>Fédération canadienne des services de garde à l’enfance</em> a également souligné l’importance d’une stratégie cohérente visant à renforcer la main-d’œuvre en services de garde éducatifs (CCCF, 2016). Toutefois, l’éducation à la petite enfance au Canada relève des gouvernements provinciaux et territoriaux. Par conséquent, les conditions, les règlements, les exigences de certification, les programmes et les systèmes d’éducation varient considérablement d’une province ou d’un territoire à l’autre. Les exigences en matière d’éducation pour la qualification, par exemple, peuvent comprendre une formation non formelle (dans les Territoires du Nord-Ouest et au Nunavut), une formation de courte durée, un certificat d’un an ou un diplôme de deux ans. Cela complique les efforts pour définir qui est le professionnel de la petite enfance et quelles sont les possibilités constitutives de l’apprentissage professionnel (Prochner <em>et al</em>., 2016). Bien que ces disparités puissent entraver l’élaboration d’une stratégie cohérente, Campbell et ses collaborateurs (2016) ont récemment affirmé que l’on pourrait approfondir les apprentissages, en partageant et en appréciant la riche diversité des approches en matière d’apprentissage professionnel, à la fois au sein des provinces et des territoires et intra provinces et territoires. De plus, des exemples provenant d’autres pays permettraient d’élargir la discussion et d’élargir notre compréhension des possibilités (Vandenboreock <em>et al</em>., 2016).</p><p>Ce numéro spécial est donc consacré aux partages d’histoires d’espoir et d’actions concertées, reliant la théorie à la pratique. Nous attendons des propositions canadiennes et internationales liées aux pratiques d’apprentissage professionnel qui s’étendent au-delà des programmes individuels, mettant en vedette des partenariats et des efforts de mobilisation communautaire à l’intérieur et à travers différents contextes éducatifs liés à la petite enfance (Centres de la Petite Enfance, maternelle, halte-garderie, etc.) et en lien avec diverses thématiques : philosophiques, pratiques, critiques, transformatrices, personnelles et d’espoir. Chaque soumission répondra à une ou à plusieurs des questions clés, y compris, mais sans s’y limiter à :</p><ul><li>Comment conceptualiser l’apprentissage professionnel en éducation à la petite enfance?</li><li>Comment établir et maintenir des partenariats efficaces pour favoriser l’apprentissage professionnel?</li><li>Quelles stratégies de mobilisation communautaire transformatrice pourraient être partagées?</li><li>Comment les stratégies novatrices peuvent-elles être appliquées à une plus grande échelle?</li><li>Comment les pratiques d’évaluation et d’apprentissage professionnelles peuvent-elles être perturbées?</li><li>Quelle histoire de l’apprentissage professionnel avez-vous besoin de (ou voulez-vous) raconter?</li><li>Comment votre communauté a-t-elle été transformée par une activité, une pratique ou un évènement ou particuliers?</li><li>Comment la vie et l’avenir des enfants peuvent-ils être façonnés positivement par l’engagement dans les partenariats et la mobilisation?</li><li>Où pourrions-nous être dans 5, 10 ou 15 ans?</li></ul><p>Nous accepterons des soumissions dans des formats multiples, y compris des articles de recherche, des articles théoriques, des pièces multimédias, des œuvres d’art, des recensions de livres, etc. Ils peuvent être présentés en anglais, en français ou dans toute langue autochtone canadienne reconnue.</p><p>La date limite pour les soumissions est fixée au 1^er aout 2017.</p><p> </p><p>References</p><p>Campbell, C., Osmond-Johnson, P., Faubert, B., Zeichner, K., Hobbs-Johnson, A. with S. Brown, P. DaCosta, A. Hales, L. Kuehn, J. Sohn, &amp; K. Steffensen (2016). <em>The state of educators’ professional learning in Canada</em>. Oxford, OH: Learning Forward.</p><p>Canadian Child Care Foundation [CCCF], (2016). <em>An Early Learning and Child Care Framework for Canada’s Children</em>. Retrieved from: http://www.cccf-fcsge.ca/wp-content/uploads/CCCF_Framework-ENG.pdf</p><p>Colmer, K., Waniganayake, M. &amp; Field, L. (2014). Leading professional learning in early childhood centres: who are the educational leaders<em>?, Australasian Journal of Early Childhood</em>, 39(4), 103-113.</p><p>Helterbran, V.R. &amp; Fennimore, B.S. (2004). Early childhood professional development: Building from a base of teacher investigation. <em>Early Childhood Education Journal, 31</em>(4), 267-271.</p><p>Lazarri, A., Picchio, M., &amp; Musatti, T. (2013). Sustaining ECEC quality through continuing professional development: systemic approaches to practitioners’ professionalization in the Italian context. <em>Early Years: An International Research Journal, 33</em>(2), 133-145.</p><p>Munton, T., Mooney, A., Moss, P., Petrie, P., Calrk, A., Woolner, J. et al., (2002). <em>Research on ratios, group size, and staff qualifications and training in early years and childcare settings</em>. London: University of London.</p><p>Penn, H. (2009). <em>Early childhood education and care: Key lessons from research for policy makers</em>. Brussels: Nesse.</p><p>Prochner, L., Cleghorn, A., Kirova, A., &amp; Massing, C. (2016). <em>Teacher education in diverse settings: Making space for intersecting worldviews</em>. Rotterdam, The Netherlands: Sense Publishers.</p><p>Thomas, S., &amp; Packer, D. S. (2013). A Reflective Teaching Road Map for Pre-service and Novice Early Childhood Educators. <em>International Journal of Early Childhood Special Education</em>, <em>5</em>(1), 1-14.</p><p>Vandenbroeck, M., Peeters, J., Urban, M. &amp; Lazzari, A. (2016). Introduction. In M. Vandenbroeck, M. Urban &amp; J. Peeters (Eds.) <em>Pathways to Professionalism in Early Childhood Education and Care</em>, (pp. 1-14). London: Routledge.</p><p>Vangrieken, K., Dochy, F., &amp; Raes, E. (2016). Team learning in teacher teams: team entitativity as a bridge between teams-in-theory and teams-in-practice. <em>European Journal Of Psychology Of Education - EJPE (Springer Science &amp; Business Media B.V.)</em>, <em>31</em>(3), 275-298. doi:10.1007/s10212-015-0279-0</p>

Food is not a trifling matter on Japanese television. More visible than such cultural staples as sumo and enka, food-related talk abounds. Aired year-round and positioned on every channel in every time period throughout the broadcast day, the lenses of food shows are calibrated at a wider angle than heavily-trafficked samurai dramas, beisboru or music shows. Simply, more aspects of everyday life, social history and cultural values pass through food programming. The array of shows work to reproduce traditional Japanese cuisine and cultural mores, educating viewers about regional customs and history. They also teach viewers about the "peculiar" practices of far-away countries. Thus, food shows engage globalisation and assist the integration of outside influences and lifestyles in Japan. However, food-talk is also about nihonjinron -- the uniqueness of Japanese culture1. As such, it tends toward cultural nationalism2. Food-talk is often framed in the context of competition and teaches viewers about planning and aesthetics, imparting class values and a consumption ethic. Food discourse is also inevitably about the reproduction of popular culture. Whether it is Jackie Chan plugging a new movie on a "guess the price" food show or a group of celebs are taking a day-trip to a resort town, food-mediated discourse enables the cultural industry and the national economy to persist -- even expand. To offer a taste of the array of cultural discourse that flows through food, this article serves up an ideal week of Japanese TV programming. Competition for Kisses: Over-Cooked Idols and Half-Baked Sexuality Monday, 10:00 p.m.: SMAP x SMAP SMAP is one of the longest-running, most successful male idol groups in Japan. At least one of their members can be found on TV every day. On this variety show, all five appear. One segment is called "Bistro SMAP" where the leader of the group, Nakai-kun, ushers a (almost always) female guest into his establishment and inquires what she would like to eat. She states her preference and the other four SMAP members (in teams of two) begin preparing the meal. Nakai entertains the guest on a dais overlooking the cooking crews. While the food is being prepared he asks standard questions about the talento's career; "how did you get in this business", "what are your favorite memories", "tell us about your recent work" -- the sort of banal banter that fills many cooking shows. Next, Nakai leads the guest into the kitchen and introduces her to the cooks. Finally, she samples both culinary efforts with the camera catching the reactions of anguish or glee from the opposing team. Each team then tastes the other group's dish. Unlike many food shows, the boys eat without savoring the food. The impression conveyed is that these are everyday boys -- not mega CD-selling pop idols with multiple product endorsements, commercials and television commitments. Finally, the moment of truth arrives: which meal is best. The winners jump for joy, the losers stagger in disappointment. The reason: the winners receive a kiss from the judge (on an agreed-upon innocuous body part). Food as entrée into discourse on sexuality. But, there is more than mere sex in the works, here. For, with each collected kiss, a set of red lips is affixed to the side of the chef's white cap. Conquests. After some months the kisses are tallied and the SMAPster with the most lips wins a prize. Food begets sexuality which begets measures of skill which begets material success. Food is but a prop in managing each idol's image. Putting a Price-tag on Taste (Or: Food as Leveller) Tuesday 8:00 p.m.: Ninki mono de ikou (Let's Go with the Popular People) An idol's image is an essential aspect of this show. The ostensible purpose is to observe five famous people appraising a series of paired items -- each seemingly identical. Which is authentic and which is a bargain-basement copy? One suspects, though, that the deeper aim is to reveal just how unsophisticated, bumbling and downright stupid "talento" can be. Items include guitars, calligraphy, baseball gloves and photographs. During evaluation, the audience is exposed to the history, use and finer points of each object, as well as the guest's decision-making process (via hidden camera). Every week at least one food item is presented: pasta, cat food, seaweed, steak. During wine week contestants smelled, tasted, swirled and regarded the brew's hue. One compared the sound each glass made, while another poured the wines on a napkin to inspect patterns of dispersion! Guests' reasoning and behaviors are monitored from a control booth by two very opinionated hosts. One effect of the recurrent criticism is a levelling -- stars are no more (and often much less) competent (and sacrosanct) than the audience. Technique, Preparation and Procedure? Old Values Give Way to New Wednesday 9:00: Tonerus no nama de daradara ikasette (Tunnels' Allow Us to Go Aimlessly, as We Are) This is one of two prime time shows featuring the comedy team "Tunnels"3. In this show both members of the duo engage in challenging themselves, one another and select members of their regular "team" to master a craft. Last year it was ballet and flamenco dance. This month: karate, soccer and cooking. Ishibashi Takaaki (or "Taka-san") and his new foil (a ne'er-do-well former Yomiuri Giants baseball player) Sadaoka Hiyoshi, are being taught by a master chef. The emphasis is on technique and process: learning theki (the aura, the essence) of cooking. After taking copious notes both men are left on their own to prepare a meal, then present it to a young femaletalento, who selects her favorite. In one segment, the men learned how to prepare croquette -- striving to master the proper procedure for flouring, egg-beating, breading, heating oil, frying and draining. In the most recent episode, Taka prepared his shortcake to perfection, impressing even the sensei. Sadaoka, who is slow on the uptake and tends to be lax, took poor notes and clearly botched his effort. Nonetheless, the talento chose Sadaoka's version because it was different. Certain he was going to win, Taka fell into profound shock. For years a popular host of youth-oriented shows, he concluded: "I guess I just don't understand today's young people". In Japanese television, just as in life, it seems there is no accounting for taste. More, whatever taste once was, it certainly has changed. "We Japanese": Messages of Distinctiveness (Or: Old Values NEVER Die) Thursday, 9:00 p.m.: Douchi no ryori shiou: (Which One? Cooking Show) By contrast, on this night viewers are served procedure, craft and the eternal order of things. Above all, validation of Japanese culinary instincts and traditions. Like many Japanese cooking showsDouchi involves competition between rival foods to win the hearts of a panel of seven singers, actors, writers and athletes.Douchi's difference is that two hosts front for rival dishes, seeking to sway the panel during the in-studio preparation. The dishes are prepared by chefs fromTsuji ryori kyoshitsu, a major cooking academy in Osaka, and are generally comparable (for instance, beef curry versus beef stew). On the surface Douchi is a standard infotainment show. Video tours of places and ingredients associated with the dish entertain the audience and assist in making the guests' decisions more agonising. Two seating areas are situated in front of each chef and panellists are given a number of opportunities to switch sides. Much playful bantering, impassioned appeals and mock intimidation transpire throughout the show. It is not uncommon for the show to pit a foreign against a domestic dish; and most often the indigenous food prevails. For, despite the recent "internationalisation" of Japanese society, many Japanese have little changed from the "we-stick-with-what-we-know-best" attitude that is a Japanese hallmark. Ironically, this message came across most clearly in a recent show pitting spaghetti and meat balls against tarako supagetei (spicy fish eggs and flaked seaweed over Italian noodles) -- a Japanese favorite. One guest, former American, now current Japanese Grand Sumo Champion, Akebono, insisted from the outset that he preferred the Italian version because "it's what my momma always cooked for me". Similarly the three Japanese who settled on tarako did so without so much as a sample or qualm. "Nothing could taste better than tarako" one pronounced even before beginning. A clear message in Douchi is that Japanese food is distinct, special, irreplaceable and (if you're not opposed by a 200 kilogram giant) unbeatable. Society as War: Reifying the Strong and Powerful Friday, 11:00 p.m.: Ryori no tetsujin. (The Ironmen of Cooking) Like sumo this show throws the weak into the ring with the strong for the amusement of the audience. The weak in this case being an outsider who runs his own restaurant. Usually the challengers are Japanese or else operate in Japan, though occasionally they come from overseas (Canada, America, France, Italy). Almost without exception they are men. The "ironmen" are four famous Japanese chefs who specialise in a particular cuisine (Japanese, Chinese, French and Italian). The contest has very strict rules. The challenger can choose which chef he will battle. Both are provided with fully-equipped kitchens positioned on a sprawling sound stage. They must prepare a full-course meal for four celebrity judges within a set time frame. Only prior to the start are they informed of which one key ingredient must be used in every course. It could be crab, onion, radish, pears -- just about any food imaginable. The contestants must finish within the time limit and satisfy the judges in terms of planning, creativity, composition, aesthetics and taste. In the event of a tie, a one course playoff results. The show is played like a sports contest, with a reporter and cameras wading into the trenches, conducting interviews and play-by-play commentary. Jump-cut editing quickens the pace of the show and the running clock adds a dimension of suspense and excitement. Consistent with one message encoded in Japanese history, it is very hard to defeat the big power. Although the ironmen are not weekly winners, their consistency in defeating challengers works to perpetuate the deep-seated cultural myth4. Food Makes the Man Saturday 12:00: Merenge no kimochi (Feelings like Meringue) Relative to the full-scale carnage of Friday night, Saturdays are positively quiescent. Two shows -- one at noon, the other at 11:30 p.m. -- employ food as medium through which intimate glimpses of an idol's life are gleaned.Merenge's title makes no bones about its purpose: it unabashedly promises fluff. In likening mood to food -- and particularly in the day-trip depicted here -- we are reminded of the Puffy's famous ditty about eating crab: "taking the car out for a spin with a caramel spirit ... let's go eat crab!"Merengue treats food as a state of mind, a many-pronged road to inner peace. To keep it fluffy,Merenge is hosted by three attractive women whose job it is to act frivolous and idly chat with idols. The show's centrepiece is a segment where the male guest introduces his favorite (or most cookable) recipe. In-between cutting, beating, grating, simmering, ladling, baking and serving, the audience is entertained and their idol's true inner character is revealed. Continuity Editing Running throughout the day, every day, on all (but the two public) stations, is advertising. Ads are often used as a device to heighten tension or underscore the food show's major themes, for it is always just before the denouement (a judge's decision, the delivery of a story's punch-line or a final tally) that an ad interrupts. Ads, however, are not necessarily departures from the world of food, as a large proportion of them are devoted to edibles. In this way, they underscore food's intimate relationship to economy -- a point that certain cooking shows make with their tie-in goods for sale or maps to, menus of and prices for the featured restaurants. While a considerable amount of primary ad discourse is centred on food (alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, coffees, sodas, instant or packaged items), it is ersatz food (vitamin-enriched waters, energy drinks, sugarless gums and food supplements) which has recently come to dominate ad space. Embedded in this commercial discourse are deeper social themes such as health, diet, body, sexuality and even death5. Underscoring the larger point: in Japan, if it is television you are tuned into, food-mediated discourse is inescapable. Food for Conclusion The question remains: "why food?" What is it that qualifies food as a suitable source and medium for filtering the raw material of popular culture? For one, food is something that all Japanese share in common. It is an essential part of daily life. Beyond that, though, the legacy of the not-so-distant past -- embedded in the consciousness of nearly a third of the population -- is food shortages giving rise to overwhelming abundance. Within less than a generation's time Japanese have been transported from famine (when roasted potatoes were considered a meal and chocolate was an unimaginable luxury) to excess (where McDonald's is a common daily meal, scores of canned drink options can be found on every street corner, and yesterday's leftover 7-Eleven bentos are tossed). Because of food's history, its place in Japanese folklore, its ubiquity, its easy availability, and its penetration into many aspects of everyday life, TV's food-talk is of interest to almost all viewers. Moreover, because it is a part of the structure of every viewer's life, it serves as a fathomable conduit for all manner of other talk. To invoke information theory, there is very little noise on the channel when food is involved6. For this reason food is a convenient vehicle for information transmission on Japanese television. Food serves as a comfortable podium from which to educate, entertain, assist social reproduction and further cultural production. Footnotes 1. For an excellent treatment of this ethic, see P.N. Dale, The Myth of Japanese Uniqueness. London: Routledge, 1986. 2. A predilection I have discerned in other Japanese media, such as commercials. See my "The Color of Difference: Critiquing Cultural Convergence via Television Advertising", Interdisciplinary Information Sciences 5.1 (March 1999): 15-36. 3. The other, also a cooking show which we won't cover here, appears on Thursdays and is called Tunnerusu no minasan no okage deshita. ("Tunnels' Because of Everyone"). It involves two guests -- a male and female -- whose job it is to guess which of 4 prepared dishes includes one item that the other guest absolutely detests. There is more than a bit of sadism in this show as, in-between casual conversation, the guest is forced to continually eat something that turns his or her stomach -- all the while smiling and pretending s/he loves it. In many ways this suits the Japanese cultural value of gaman, of bearing up under intolerable conditions. 4. After 300-plus airings, the tetsujin show is just now being put to bed for good. It closes with the four iron men pairing off and doing battle against one another. Although Chinese food won out over Japanese in the semi-final, the larger message -- that four Japanese cooks will do battle to determine the true iron chef -- goes a certain way toward reifying the notion of "we Japanese" supported in so many other cooking shows. 5. An analysis of such secondary discourse can be found in my "The Commercialized Body: A Comparative Study of Culture and Values". Interdisciplinary Information Sciences 2.2 (September 1996): 199-215. 6. The concept is derived from C. Shannon and W. Weaver, The Mathematical Theory of Communication. Urbana, Ill.: University of Illinois Press, 1949. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Todd Holden. "'And Now for the Main (Dis)course...': Or, Food as Entrée in Contemporary Japanese Television." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.7 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/entree.php>. Chicago style: Todd Holden, "'And Now for the Main (Dis)course...': Or, Food as Entrée in Contemporary Japanese Television," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 7 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/entree.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Todd Holden. (1999) "And now for the main (dis)course...": or, food as entrée in contemporary Japanese television. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(7). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9910/entree.php> ([your date of access]).