mountroyalaccountability.ca is a living record of institutional failure — and a demand for academic recognition in its wake.
I wasn’t just mistreated at Mount Royal University. I was silenced, misrepresented, and eventually erased. I asked direct questions. I submitted advanced code. I built infrastructure that none of them even attempted to understand. And for that, I was mocked, blocked, and expelled.
What you see here is not just my response — it’s my curriculum. Every component of this site was built by me, without support, instruction, or approval. This is a demonstration of real-world development, network-level threat protection, full-stack tracking, and advanced CDN routing — the kind of work deserving not just of credit, but of a credential.
MRU failed to offer that acknowledgment. So I built it myself. And now I’m asking: why shouldn’t I be awarded an honorary degree?
This archive exists because Mount Royal University buried the truth. Their Iniskim Centre staff downplayed harm. Their BCIS program enabled grading sabotage and administrative cruelty. And their disability office centralized control under a single gatekeeper — Chris Rogerson — who weaponized his position against vulnerable students.
So I built a counter-record. A public one. This site names names, stores receipts, and sets the bar for what real student advocacy can look like when the institutions fail.
It is also now the basis of my case for an honorary degree — because what I’ve built here is more than a protest. It’s an academic artifact, forged in resistance, shaped by policy, and backed by infrastructure they never even taught.
Despite being enrolled in the BCIS program and producing advanced technical work from home while managing a documented medical condition (FAI and GTPS in my right hip), instructors Yasaman and Masah made deliberate efforts to obstruct my progress.
They withheld class assignments, failed to post key materials, and penalized me for not participating in on-campus activities — despite my valid accommodation needs and clear documentation.
It became obvious that my ability to complete work remotely — and do it well — offended them. Rather than offer support or recognition, they doubled down on exclusion. No meaningful feedback was provided. No technical discussion was ever initiated. My work was dismissed outright, not based on merit, but on resentment and ego.
After I presented evidence that Melody Xing had manipulated my financial account records, I expected support from the Iniskim Centre. Instead, I was told by Tori McMillan to stop asking questions.
No one followed up. No one investigated. And from that point on, I was quietly pushed out — excluded from services, ignored in correspondence, and effectively shunned by the very office that claimed to support Indigenous students.
There was no outreach. No accountability. No solidarity. Just silence. And that silence was an answer: I was no longer welcome for having spoken up.