Geena Davis says acting roles were 'scarce' after she turned 40: 'I fell off the cliff' - Yahoo News Canada

“Everyone said: ‘Now we’re going to have so many movies starring women,’” she says of Thelma & Louise, in which she starred opposite Susan Sarandon!

It flashes the speed of passing motorists reminding them of the speed limit.Her father Bijan Ohadi said they first tried to contact the City of Richmond Hill then the police — but each referred him to the other."Without any notice or permission — we wondered whose device is this really?"No one responded to email or returned callsThe Ohadis said for days no one responded to their email or returned their calls.But a spokesperson did get back to CBC Toronto."In response to resident concerns about speeding in the neighbourhood, the city placed a temporary trailer-mounted radar board on city-owned property on Driscoll Road earlier this week," Lynn Chan, communications advisor wrote in an email to CBC News."These signs act as a traffic calming measure, educational tool for drivers and allow the city to collect data to inform if further efforts are required to increase safety on that street."'You are at the mercy of the municipality,' lawyer saysJohn Mascarin, a lawyer who specializes in local government and municipal law, said while the trailer-mounted radar board may appear to be on private property, the city actually owns the land a few metres either side of the roadway in a municipality."So really you are at the mercy of the municipality," he said.

In the 10 days since Ian Campeau, former member of A Tribe Called Red, issued a Twitter apology for his "destructive behaviours and toxicity," Indigenous women have come forward with their experiences with the former DJ — and to talk more broadly about misogyny, abuse and assault in their own communities. Polaris Prize winner Lido Pimento wrote a Facebook post alleging Campeau made unwanted advances toward her and used his fame and success to "prey on innocent people."Roseanne Supernault, a Cree and Métis actress who took to Instagram to post allegations about Campeau aggressively  coaxing her to have sex with him, says silence — for victims or witnesses — is no longer an option.  "There is this bystander culture that is so incredibly toxic," said Supernault.Indigenous perpetrators, she says, have sometimes been protected by those in Indigenous communities out of a desire to protect the community and a fear of furthering the already present racism, shame and blame sustained by colonization.  "I would initially just jump to protecting my family, protecting the people around me, instead of holding them accountable," Supernault said. Now, she's taken a hard line to protect victims rather than offenders. "We have to let [offenders] learn their lesson and I will step forward and tell any victim I believe them," Supernault said.Colonization and toxic masculinity Lauraleigh Paul, who came forward in 2018 alleging The Revenant actor Duane Howard had sexually assaulted her when she was barely 16 years old, agrees with Supernault, saying it's important to look at the roots of toxic masculinity and rape culture. "Colonization came about and implemented these toxic ideologies within our nations and communities and the oppression was very real," Paul said from her home in Vancouver. She says in colonial times, at the height and in the fallout of residential schools and the Sixties Scoop, Indigenous people went into survival mode and had very little support to get help for intergenerational trauma."Silence was their survival tool," Paul said."It's been kept quiet for so long and that worked for generations past, but it's not going to work for future generations."She says there is a lack of fairness in the justice system for Indigenous people, and accountability has been difficult to obtain.Paul says, as a child, she and her family took a high profile Indigenous leader to court and, while was charged, the justice system, the media and her own community treated her as if she was to blame for his behaviour and the charges.'Hold them accountable'Paul and other Indigenous women are now looking at ways to hold abusers to account.

and think, 'I can do 20 years in jail if I do this,'" said George, who is a survivor of sexual abuse.George, who is the granddaughter of Chief Dan George, says if more survivors came forward, it would be safer for others to also speak out."It's hard to be the first to come forward, but until you do, there will be no change," George said. Supernault is a strong believer in restorative justice."I'm not making excuses for these men and their behaviour, but if we forgive them and hold them accountable that's where that healing can happen and we can't do that if we remain silent," she said. She believes sexual assault and abuse can be lethal."So many of us take these wounds and internalize them and inflict them on ourselves," Supernault said. She believes survivors benefit from building a close tight-knit support system, to prevent suicide and addictions. "Please stay alive," she said.Paul — whose post about a once rising star in Hollywood sexually assaulting her led to him losing jobs and credibility in the industry — wants survivors to know they are not alone."I believe you," she said."And I believe in you. You didn't deserve what happened to you.

With many office spaces left vacant because of COVID-19, some owners are turning to alternative ways to make the most out of the space.La Finca was once a cafe and a shared office space rented out on an hourly basis on Bleury Street, but co-owner Geneviève Loignon-Houle says with so many people working from home, she had no choice but to change course."No one is coming downtown anymore.

We hope they are going to come back soon, but we don't plan it to be any sooner than probably next year," she said.The office space, which was often fully booked, lost 80 per cent of its clientele, Loignon-Houle said.

Now it is a market selling local spices, fresh produce, coffee, pasta, beer and natural wine.For two weeks at the beginning of the pandemic, Loignon-Houle says she sat outside, asking people what they thought was needed.

She converted the space into a local market based on what she heard from those who were passing by.Now, she says, she's seeing people coming back to pick up local produce and grab a cup of coffee.Lloyd Cooper, the executive vice-chair of Cushman and Wakefield, a commercial real estate firm, says about 10 per cent of clients will end up closing their offices for good."Working from home is working, and [they] might not need as much space as they did before and are rethinking going forward," he said.Some clients have opted to have employees go into the office only two or three times a week, he said, while others are choosing to take on shorter leases.The pandemic, Cooper said, has already forced business to rethink the way they work, and to get creative about how work will function in the future.But some firms say demand for downtown real estate may increase, despite more people working from home.

Once on shore, they rushed to watch the video they had gathered of the experience. Collingwood says people ask her all the time if she's fearful about being in the water for lengthy stretches of time — or what she might do if she ever came upon whales."Now I know. Nothing compares," she said.

HALIFAX — Christopher Downey finished building his home in 2002 on a parcel of land in North Preston, N.S., that has been in his family for generations.But it was only in late July that Downey says he found out the province intends to issue him a certificate of claim to the land upon which his house was built — the first step in his years-long fight for title."It’s been a long journey, but the truth always prevails, and I think it came down to just the government doing the right thing," the 66-year-old said in a recent interview.Downey is among scores of African Nova Scotians who have struggled for years to have their title claims recognized.

But now, after he won his case in Nova Scotia Supreme Court, the province says it is going to make it easier for Black Nova Scotians to settle land claims.The problem dates back to the 1800s when the Nova Scotia government distributed land to white and Black Loyalists — people who stayed loyal to the British Crown and moved to Canada following the American Revolution.Downey said his ancestors fought alongside the British in the War of 1812 on the promise they would be granted land in what is now North Preston.Yet while white settlers received title to fertile ground in present-day Nova Scotia, their Black counterparts were allowed to use and occupy the lands they were given, but were not granted legal title.In 1963, Nova Scotia passed what is now known as the Land Titles Clarification Act, which aimed to provide African Nova Scotians with a pathway to legal ownership of lands that in many cases had been in their families for decades.The act applies to 13 predominantly Black communities, including Cherry Brooke, East Preston and North Preston, all on the outskirts of Halifax.

But lawyers, human rights advocates and African Nova Scotian communities have long complained of a burdensome, costly and time-consuming process to apply for title.Downey took his case to the Nova Scotia Supreme Court, which last month ordered the government to reassess his application for a certificate of claim after it was rejected on the basis the father of four could not prove he had lived on the land for 20 consecutive years.The court said the government was unreasonable in applying that standard, known as adverse possession, in Downey’s case.

5 the government was finalizing Downey's certificate of claim.The province is looking at whether the 20-years adverse possession test affected other applicants, but Jarrett did not say how many people could have been impacted.

Nova Scotia has received over 360 land claims to date, she said, and the owners of 130 parcels of land have received title."We will continue to look for ways to streamline this process and remove barriers wherever possible," Jarrett said.Campbell said the government indicated in court it had applied the 20-years adverse possession test since at least 2015 — meaning many families may have had their claims denied on that basis.

He said he hoped the court's ruling would push Nova Scotia to engage with historical experts and Black community members to better understand how to implement the 1963 Land Titles Clarification Act."With all of that information, my hope is that it will provide the minister and his department with a framework by which they can more appropriately and fairly assess applications," Campbell said.Downey said while his certificate of claim is nearly approved, he and his family still have several steps ahead of them before they can get ownership of the land.After a certificate of claim is issued, a notice must be posted to allow anyone wishing to make their own claim to the land to come forward.

If there are no competing claims, then a certificate of title can be issued.But Downey said his case shows the government can — and should — recognize the land claims of African Nova Scotians."It would have been nice to have it corrected years ago, but it can be done," said Downey." It’s not a long process.

And with more and more people facing financial insecurity, it can be difficult to make decisions based on things other than price. Read more about the challenges facing small businesses.Everything you need to know about using face masks properlyNow that wearing a mask is an everyday activity for most Canadians, it's a good time to make sure we're using them effectively?

"There's really no reason why the Canadian government, at this point, would want to open it up and subject Canadians to an increased rate of COVID infections," says U.S.

A 145-year-old southern Alberta church went up in flames three years ago, and now its restoration has ripped open old wounds of residential schools — illustrating two opposing paths in a time of reconciliation.The people behind the restoration of the McDougall Memorial United Church hope it can be a symbol of communities that were once united and a starting point for conversations about the future.McDougall Church was built on land adjacent to the Stoney Nakoda First Nation community of Morley — roughly halfway between Calgary and Banff — by missionary George McDougall and his son, John, in 1875.A second church opened in the heart of Morley years later, followed by a residential school in 1926.While the McDougall Church was not directly part of the residential school system, its symbolism as a Christian church blurs that distinction for some who live nearby.McDougall's great, great, great-granddaughter says she knows the restoration is not without critics, but she hopes something positive can arise from the ashes."I feel energy for the future.

Working together and coming forward to understanding our histories: the McDougalls and the Stoney Nakoda Nation," Brenda McQueen told CBC News."Listening to each other's stories and making a better future for the next generations by understanding what happened in the past and being able to learn from that, so that we can move forward."McQueen is the president of the McDougall Stoney Mission Society, the driving force behind the project."I am very proud of what we have done with the restoration, but I am even more excited about what we are going to be doing next."That's an interpretive walk named Through the Eyes of the Stoneys."It's going to be an opportunity for the elders and the youth to have that talk with us, so we can all share stories and understand the history," McQueen said.But one Stoney elder is very much against bringing any of the churches back."A lot of abuses took place there," Tina Fox said regarding the Morley Residential School."Students have been physically abused, spiritually abused, sexually abused and mentally abused.

It's a reminder of bad things that happened to us as residential school students."Fox acknowledges that while many people at Morley share her view, others are supportive of the project.In fact, it's not the only divide.

For example, Fox and her son disagree on the issue of removing historic monuments that honour people like Canada's first prime minister, John A.

Macdonald, who mistreated Indigenous people.Her son says leave them up so people can learn.

Fox says bring them down, unless they tell the full story.The Stoney Nakoda Nation administration opposes reconstruction, even appealing to the provincial government to withdraw the site's historic status.The province approved the project in February of last year, recognizing that though there are many views on a complex issue like this, the building still has historic value.

In about a month, Nina Jeffery will begin her fourth year studying media production at Ryerson University, and like many post-secondary students in Canada, most of her courses will be online.But even though her education now looks radically different, she says her tuition breakdown doesn't. "The fact of the matter is that I am not paying for the same type of education I signed up for when I started my program," she told CBC Toronto in an email.

and we can't access any of them." That frustration isn't limited to students at Ryerson. Nate Denaro, a student at York University, has calculated that even with a reduced fee, he'll spend about $270 this coming school year on athletics and recreation, saying the school's decision to not drop the fee altogether is "outrageous." Fifi Wei, set to start her first year at Sheridan College, was also surprised by what she saw when she looked at the fine print of her tuition. "I realized, 'Oh my god, they charge a lot of fees that actually aren't applicable for students who study at home,' she said, citing an on-campus health centre charge as an example. Wei wrote Sheridan, asking them to reconsider, but was told the fees are not optional. Petitions call for reduced tuitionAlmost as soon as the COVID-19 pandemic began and university classes began migrating online, students began lobbying for refunds and tuition and fee reductions. At Ryerson and other schools, online petitions have sprung up to ask university administrations to reconsider how much they charge. Julia Pereira, president of the Ontario Undergraduate Student Alliance (OUSA), says the frustration around fees and tuition in general reflect the deep economic uncertainty students are facing."We know that students have really struggled to find a job over the summer," she said. Pereira says student unions at the eight universities her organization represents have been trying to bring down fees to reflect that. For example, at her own school, Laurier University, Pereira says the student union has reduced clubs fees, while other universities have negotiated to remove the fee for bus passes.   Pereira also says that OUSA has been trying to address the larger affordability problem by calling on the province to "enhance OSAP and give students more financial aid" as well as asking it to better fund universities so they don't need to rely on ancillary fees paid by students. Some schools reduce, cut feesFor their part, the post-secondary institutions contacted by CBC Toronto say they are sensitive to the economic difficulties their students are facing, and some are adjusting fees to reflect that.At Sheridan, for example, fees that support athletic facilities have been cut altogether. York and Ryerson stress that many services, like career and library services, are being moved online, so the fees must remain in place. Ryerson also says it's still exploring a mix of online and on-campus learning for students and that it's hopeful it will open its athletic facilities soon, given that Toronto has now entered Stage 3 of its reopening plan. The two universities told CBC Toronto that overall tuition can't be changed, saying virtual instruction costs the same amount and has the same outcome as in-person classes.  Meanwhile, the burst of student lobbying to lower costs that began with the pandemic began appears to be winding down, says Jeffery. People feel "burnt out" after months of pushing, she said. Between paying for housing, finding jobs and trying to stay safe during a pandemic, young adults "have so much else to worry about," she said.For her part, McNaughton isn't hopeful that anything will change in the final weeks before school begins, but says she'll continue to advocate all the same.   "I do think it's the university's responsibility to prepare for events like this.

John's entrepreneur wants you to think of him.Trevor Bessette is looking for bottle caps to recycle and then turn them into something usable. "Our goal is to recycle all kinds of different plastics but we are focusing and starting with the bottle caps because they are extremely common plastics and one that ends up in the landfills quite often," said Bessette. Bessette started Seaside Apparel, a clothing line made from recycled plastic bottles and sewing scraps two years ago and is now trying to eliminate more plastic from hitting the landfill. The bottle caps he collects will go into a shredder, which will turn the plastic into flakes. Then the flakes will be melted down and put into moulds to make other products.Bessette said he wants to start with small items like key chains, coasters and flower pots, but is hoping to make useful items with long life spans, in the future."I guess the name of the game is to extend the life cycle of the material for as long as possible," he said.

John's Farmer Market where bottle caps can be dropped off and Bessette is hoping to sell his recycled products at the market in the near future.Bessette said he is working on partnering with organizations and municipalities across the province to set up more collection bins."I think even more importantly than the … physical recycling of these caps is that I am hoping it starts the conversation and gets people thinking about the plastic." On top of the recycling efforts, he is also looking at bringing his recycling machine into classrooms to demonstrate. He hopes that when children see how their trash can be reused it will encourage them to think about what they are throwing away."If you have something that interests people or gets them curious about something I think you can start conversations a little bit easier.

Former Vert et Or football player Dominic Frappier is back home in Sherbrooke after 13 months of rehabilitation in Montreal, and is urging Quebecers to avoid diving. Frappier was celebrating finishing his bachelor's degree in kinesiology from l'Université de Sherbrooke in June of 2019 when he dove off a dock and fractured his C5 and C6 vertebrae. "When I dove, I felt my legs shut off, so I pushed in the lake with my arms, with all the adrenaline that I had," he said. Frappier's friends pulled him from the water, and he woke up in a Montreal hospital. The 26-year-old said he's adjusting to a new normal, continuously getting stronger and more efficient at his day-to-day tasks, like getting from bed into his wheelchair, getting dressed and putting on his shoes. "It's really hard to proceed and go through that," Frappier said.

"Really, really careful, because it can change your life," Frappier said. "If I can educate just one person so they avoid what I did, I have done my job."Frappier has a degree in kinesiology, but is switching gears to study business after his injury, which he hopes to combine with his love of sports. "My body does not work so well, but my head is good," he said. The athlete's father, Alain Frappier, said he's proud of his son for being an optimist and working to make a difference in the world.

At the time, the territory's chief public health officer said the mine workers could have had the illness before, but recovered.Nowicki believes the government has done a good job keeping the virus out of the territory and said it could be a burden on the health care system if there were an outbreak."We have pretty good resources, but because of our remoteness ...  and then some of the respiratory disorders that we already have there, I think that it could get really out of hand in a hurry and really harm the Nunavut population as a whole.".

It has a $25-million price tag, of which Chaffey said $17 million has been secured so far, including last week's promise from the provincial government to chip in $5 million."Their financial support is reflective of the encouragement that they've placed at our feet throughout this process.

Based on its appearance, you likely wouldn't think the American woodcock would turn out to be a phenomenal athlete.Spending most of its life on the ground, hunting earthworms with its long beak, the chubby, bug-eyed bird looks more couch potato than marathon champ.But an international study on the bird's migration patterns is showing researchers the woodcock is a remarkable flier.The researchers have been placing GPS transmitters on woodcock captured all along the eastern seaboard, from the Carolinas to Nova Scotia.And this spring, their movements during their annual migration north has shown some amazing achievements.Erik Blomberg, an associate professor in the department of wildlife ecology at the University of Maine, is one of the leads on the project, which is in its third year."They're not necessarily built like they should be able to do really long, really athletic flights," Blomberg said.In fact, Blomberg said, when they are not migrating, they don't move around much at all.

Part of the reason for doing that was to see how these birds deal with crossing open water.Blomberg said that in the fall, two of the birds travelled from the Truro area to the tip of Nova Scotia, near Yarmouth, then headed out over the Gulf of Maine."From there, one bird made landfall in southern Massachusetts, one bird made it all the way to western Long Island, so that's a trip of about 250 miles over water, which is a pretty remarkable thing to see a small bird like a woodcock do."The spring migration also brought a remarkable and surprising over-water migration north.In December 2019, a woodcock was captured in Cape May, N.J., and fitted with a transmitter.Alexander Fish, a PhD candidate at the University of Maine who is also working on the study, said the bird went on to spend the winter in North Carolina and in late February began to head north. Fish said, as far as they can tell, after stops in Pennsylvania and coastal New York, the bird flew non-stop across the Gulf of Maine and up the Bay of Fundy, and eventually set down on Cape Breton Island. After spending some time there, it headed out again across the North Atlantic, finally stopping on the Avalon Peninsula in Newfoundland on April 16, a flight of about 520 kilometres over open water.Bomberg said it's exciting to have followed the path of a bird to the farthest eastern extent of the woodcock's breeding range.Record setting tripThen there's the female caught in south-central Alabama and had an extra-long migration, thanks to bad weather, to the western extremes of the breeding range.She left Alabama in early March and headed northwest, making it all the way to Winnipeg by late March.But a series of snowstorms in the area forced her south into Minnesota.

She didn't get to her final nesting area until early May."That bird, if you sum up all of her steps for her migration path from the Alabama area to that breeding area in Manitoba," said Blomberg, "She travelled over 3,300 kilometres, which is the longest single migration track that we've recorded since the project started."   The average migration distance recorded by the study is about 1,400 kilometres, so she more than doubled that.The study has also brought a surprise for the research team.

This year, they've been able to get data about the altitudes of the migration flights, which may hold a clue to how they're able to accomplish these feats."Some of those altitudes have been surprisingly high," Blomberg said, "with the tags recording values as high as a thousand metres above the ground."A good tailwindBlomberg said it raises questions about how much the woodcock are relying on high altitude tailwinds to help during migration. Take the example of a female bird flying south from Saguenay, Que.She stopped in Michigan, close to the southern border with Indiana, and the next leg of her trip was the longest non-stop flight recorded — and it was accomplished in record time."The very next day it was in western Mississippi, with a distance of 797 kilometres," Blomberg said, "Almost 800 kilometres in one overnight period, and presumably, in order to do that, it had to have one heck of a tailwind to blow it that far, that fast."Since the GPS transmitters don't typically last longer than one migration cycle, the researchers will be back in the field later this summer to fit transmitters on new birds.Beause of COVID-19 restrictions at the border, Blomberg said, the researchers won't be travelling to Canada.Instead, they've sent transmitters to their Canadian partners, so they can do the field work themselves.That way, the researchers will be ready to plot new migration routes this fall.You can see the results of the last migration cycle by heading to woodcockmigration.org.

When the Saskatchewan government announced their back to school plan, I knew that Aug.

Now it seems like a summer job would've been safer than going back to school.'Frustrated, disappointed and confused'I knew that once school started the likelihood of physical contact with my grandparents was low, but I was still hopeful.  When I watched the live announcement of the province's plan, it felt hazy and unreal, like something from a bad movie.

We are being thrown into buildings with hundreds of people right as COVID-19 cases increase across our province. I feel betrayed.After all we have learned about the virus so far, how could the government create a plan that goes against all of the precautions that every other part of society has in place. Reconfirming the 'return to school as normal' plan makes me frustrated, disappointed and confused. I worry for my teachers, friends and peers who are putting their lives on the line for education.

Or those who are putting their guardians, siblings, or household members in danger by attending school during a pandemic. How the government could so casually put us at risk? 'It seems like they don't even care about us'Our nervousness around the situation has left many of my friends and I considering online school or learning from home.

I'm not saying this because I do not like school and would rather stay home.

We shouldn't be forced to learn from home just because the government won't support and fund our schools. I would feel more comfortable going to school if the class sizes were smaller and more reasonable for physical distancing, if masks were mandatory and if we knew details about when the next phase of the plan will be implemented.I would feel more comfortable if we started with a stricter plan and then lightened up if things are going well.I know the teachers and staff at my school will try their best to keep us safe, but without the right support and funding, their hands are tied.The adults have control here and they are supposed to keep us safe, but it seems like they don't even care about us.

They are OK with letting some people suffer and die when they have the power to reduce risks.I don't want to mourn the loss of any students or staff at my school.

The company says its teams are "actively working around the clock to increase production and delivery" but demand "remains extraordinarily high." Flour and yeastAs people hunkered down at the beginning of the pandemic, many turned to baking their favourite comfort foods.

MEC's director of merchandise, Brodie Wallace, says indoor climbing gear has also flown off the shelves as people found ways to train at home. Boats and water sportsNothing says social distancing like sitting in a boat miles from shore — a fact that appears to be reflected in the water sports industry.

Ladha says he's down to a quarter of the boats he normally has in stock

Over at Galleon Marine, owner Ian Binstead says he's got the same issue

"When the inventory is gone, it's gone," Binstead said