Letters, Oct. 3

A morning in the life …

My very first lesson does not start when I walk into that lecture hall, oh no — it starts long before. It begins when I walk to my car, check the estimated arrival time to the University of Manitoba and hope that Winnipeg traffic agrees with it.

A drive that appears completely manageable changes almost immediately when I’m greeted by a tsunami of orange pylons and a line of cars that appears to go on forever. Traffic moves by the inch, lanes magically disappear and the detour I took yesterday now has a detour of its own. These factors make me do a calculation that I have become all too familiar with. How late can I arrive and still find parking, run to my class across campus and get to class with enough time left to make it worth it?

I have grown used to people saying, “Why not just leave earlier?” I do. But when I’m already leaving for my 8:30 a.m. class at 7 a.m., there’s only so much I can do. This drive that some would think is relaxing is one that feels like an assignment that I didn’t know I had to complete and is due at 8:30 a.m.

I understand that traffic is annoying to everyone, not just me or other students, but when you’re rushing to a lecture or exam, every single delay or unexpected detour feels like a cruel joke from the gods. You leave your house feeling like you have nothing but time but by the time you arrive on campus you feel like you have PTSD from the drive.

When I finally get to my seat in the lecture, I sometimes feel as if I have had an entire day of tests already, and in a way, I have, as my patience was most definitely tested. But when the professor begins the lesson, I realize the day has just begun, and not only do I have a whole day of frantically taking notes left, I also have to make that drive — or should I say adventure from hell — back home.

Grace Aprile

Winnipeg

Mayor Juba had vision

Before Halloween, municipal elections will be held throughout Manitoba. As a resident of Winnipeg for over 73 years, now living in rural Manitoba, I have familiarized myself with eight individuals who held the office of mayor of Winnipeg between 1956 and 2026. Of those eight mayors, one in particular stood out — Stephen Juba, who served from 1956 to 1977.

Juba had a vision for Winnipeg, was very approachable and down to earth but was also very flamboyant and knew how to work with the media. He was a popular politician who never forgot his North End roots.

As ever, Winnipeggers want safer streets, better neighbourhoods, reliable transit, taxes kept under control, better roads and other necessities. In order to achieve these requests and enrich Winnipeg, mayors must have a futuristic outlook like Stephen Juba.

During his tenure, Juba lobbied to host the Pan American Games in 1967, inspired the construction of the Pan Am Pool, spearheaded the completion of the University of Manitoba stadium and led a project to build and complete the Disraeli Freeway. He guided the construction of the Centennial (now Millennium) Library and the Winnipeg Convention Centre, as well as the new city hall and the public safety building behind the administrative building. He supported the amalgamation of Winnipeg and its suburbs and in 1971, the administrative offices of all Winnipeg’s suburbs were united with the City of Winnipeg, creating Unicity.

At one point, Juba even dreamed of building a monorail rapid-transit system, but Winnipeg at that time was too small, in both area and population. During his time in office, Juba became a big promotor of Winnipeg, frequently making national news. He was a mayor who had a vision for Winnipeg, a popular manager of our wonderful city for 20 years.

Why was Juba successful? He was a municipal leader who focused on long-term transformative goals for the city rather than just day-to-day administrative duties, which is presently the norm.

Winnipeg, like any urban centre big or small, needs a mayor that has a long-term vision to promote cultural identity, attract businesses and create long-lasting change — a big futuristic picture of how they foresee their city to be down the road. There is a need now for forward-looking leaders at the municipal level. It is time!

Peter J. Manastyrsky

Niverville

Time change overlooks SAD

On Sept. 25, Premier Wab Kinew signed the proclamation forcing Manitoba into permanent daylight time. This populist decision may cater to a public that loves long summer evenings, but it completely abandons scientific reality and leaves vulnerable Manitobans in the dark.

As a retired nurse who crawls through the winter months with seasonal affective disorder (SAD), I know first-hand that this choice will make winter a struggle for many.

Our northern latitude already faces severe winter light reduction. Under permanent daylight time, the sun will not rise until nearly 9:30 a.m. in southern Manitoba during the darkest months and after 10 a.m. in the north. Forcing schoolchildren and commuters into pitch darkness sacrifices crucial morning light — the exact biological signal our brains require to stabilize our circadian rhythms, regulate mood, and combat depressive disorders such as SAD.

The Canadian Sleep Society, sleep scientists and cardiovascular researchers explicitly advocate for permanent standard time. They warn that permanent daylight time leads to chronic sleep deprivation, spikes in traffic accidents and heightened risks of depression, among other health issues.

I expressed my concerns, with data-backed health warnings, to the premier, the minister of health and my MLA, who is also the health critic. These documented concerns by sleep experts were met with complete silence.

The government has chosen optics over human biology. As we head into the darker winter months, Manitobans will unfortunately have to deal with the medical consequences of a government that refused to listen.

Bonnie McKenzie

Winnipeg

Dereliction duties need definition

Re: Legislation needed on vacant buildings (Sept. 29)

The provincial government could certainly ease restrictions on the City of Winnipeg’s ability to deal with derelict and abandoned buildings, but in discussing the issue of absentee landlords you did not touch on this question: How many of these derelict and abandoned buildings have been seized for tax arrears, making the city their de facto landlord?

In 2019 I attended an information meeting hosted by a city councillor and the city’s bylaw officer. A major concern raised by the attendees was derelict houses and much of the discussion concerned the difficulty in tracking down absentee landlords.

A couple of weeks later, I learned that one of the houses in question (982 Garfield St.) had been seized for tax arrears in 2018, almost a year before the meeting, but the people tasked with providing us with information were apparently unaware of this. The house had stood empty for 20 years in 2019 and it is still there, still empty in 2026.

The problem of derelict buildings is complicated, and it would be helpful to know specifically what all the issues and difficulties are, as well as what is actually being done. The last thing we need is finger pointing.

Norman Beattie

Winnipeg