tag:theconversation.com,2011:/id/topics/black-canadians-65117/articlesBlack Canadians – The Conversation2024-03-18T21:40:07Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2227962024-03-18T21:40:07Z2024-03-18T21:40:07ZMentorship is key to improving social and economic outcomes for Black youth<p>Black youth in Canada experience <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020002-eng.htm">poorer educational achievement than other children and youth</a>, which leads to subsequent poor economic outcomes. </p>
<p>A series of problems and barriers <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=EJ644352">contribute to poor educational outcomes</a>. These include negative attitudes of teachers towards Black youth, lack of African-Canadian history and culture in the educational curriculum, low teacher expectations of Black children, alienating school environments <a href="https://theconversation.com/black-youth-yearn-for-black-teachers-to-disrupt-the-daily-silencing-of-their-experiences-177279">and a lack of Black teachers</a> and mentors.</p>
<p>These, coupled with systemic <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s10615-011-0344-3">discrimination and bias in hiring processes</a>, translate to poorer economic outcomes. </p>
<p>By being mentored by Black people, Black youth are able to see that they have potential to achieve what their mentors have achieved. This is especially important for Black youth whose families have faced socio-economic disadvantage or downward occupational mobility.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=427&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/582016/original/file-20240314-28-a13s7d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=536&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The presence of Black teachers and mentors is important for Black students.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Allison Shelley/EDU images)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Improving outcomes</h2>
<p>Black children suffer disproportionate discipline at school. They are more likely to be <a href="https://www.bcg.com/publications/2020/reality-of-anti-black-racism-in-canada">suspended or expelled from school</a> — and <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-curb-anti-black-racism-in-canadian-schools-150489">bias or anti-Black racism creates hostile environments</a> for them, contributing to student disengagement. They are also less likely than other youth to attain <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/en/pub/75-006-x/2020001/article/00002-eng.pdf?st=H0dPj5oE">a post-secondary qualification</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/voices-of-black-youth-remind-adults-in-schools-to-listen-and-act-to-empower-them-210849">Voices of Black youth remind adults in schools to listen — and act to empower them</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>This is despite the higher educational aspirations and <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020002-eng.htm">resilience of Black children compared to other similarly aged racial or ethnic groups</a>.</p>
<p>Several factors improve Black children’s educational outcomes: <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0268580909334503">support from their parents</a>, parental values related to education, pride in one’s heritage, use of a minority language at home and having a strong sense of <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=EJ734489">trust in and knowledge of one’s culture</a>. </p>
<h2>Education strategies needed</h2>
<p>However, despite Black parents’ interest in supporting their children, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-9493.1994.tb00222.x">structural and systemic constraints</a> disrupt children’s flourishing. These constraints are based on differential privileges and positions of power that families face related to diverse racialized, class and gender-based social locations. </p>
<p>The United Nations <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/en/special-procedures/wg-african-descent">Working Group of Experts on People of African Descent</a> recommends that Canada “<a href="https://doi.org/10.53967/cje-rce.v44i1.5117">implement a nationwide African Canadian education strategy</a> … [and] strengthen Afrocentric education curricula.”</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/581428/original/file-20240312-30-j6bxo2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black youths’ outcomes improve when they are taught by Black teachers or can study their history.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Allison Shelley/EDUimages)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.econedurev.2015.01.007">Black youths’ outcomes improve</a> when they can study their history <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-030-38277-3_38">and are taught or</a> <a href="https://www.nber.org/papers/w25254">mentored by Black teachers</a>. Mentorship is a central strategy to improve the educational and economic experiences of Black youth. </p>
<p>Mentorship is also effective for countering negative effects of racism on Black youth, and has been <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s40894-017-0074-z">identified as having a stronger impact on addressing racism than education alone</a>. </p>
<p>Black-focused education can improve the <a href="https://ojs.library.queensu.ca/index.php/encounters/article/view/5285">economic outcomes of Black youth</a>.</p>
<h2>Afrocentric programs, communities</h2>
<p>Strong evidence indicates mentorship is effective across behavioural, social, emotional and academic <a href="https://doi.org/10.1037/a0033447">domains of youth development</a>. </p>
<p>Proponents of Afrocentric educational programs assert that Black youth suffer from low self-esteem, which leads to low school performance, but that they can <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-38277-3_38">be motivated to achieve by studying their history</a>. </p>
<p>Research also shows alienation and expulsion rates decrease and self-esteem and university attendance rates <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.econedurev.2015.01.007">increase when Black students are taught by Black teachers</a>. <a href="https://canadianteachermagazine.com/2022/01/20/11014">Afrocentric supplementary educational programs</a> have proven to be effective in improving the educational success of Black youth.</p>
<p>The personal experience of the first author of this article (Bukola Salami) attending a mentorship program for Black youth and delivering one highlight the potential positive impact of mentorship on the lives of Black youth. </p>
<p>Bukola writes: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“In 1998, I was a student of a mentorship program for Black youth in Canada. For me, attending this program indicated the potential strong effect of the program on fostering a positive identity. Having mentors of similar background inspired my confidence to succeed.” </p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Potential to contribute to positive outcomes</h2>
<p>In 2019, an interdisciplinary university-based mentorship program was created through Bukola’s leadership after she received funding from the Government of Canada’s Department of Canadian Heritage. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://ucalgary.ca/news/empowering-future-black-youth-mentorship-and-leadership-program-transforms-lives#">Black Youth Mentorship and Leadership Program</a> seeks to socially and economically empower Black youth to contribute to Canadian society. The program was initially created for students about to enter Grade 11 and 12 (but has also engaged university students with a modified curriculum). </p>
<p>Black youth are paired with Black faculty and professionals from whom they gain valuable experience and skills. Evaluations of the program indicate it cultivated a positive <a href="https://www.ualberta.ca/nursing/media-library/research/health-immigration/black-youth-mentorship-program-final-report.pdf">sense of cultural identity among Black youth and improved their sense of community belonging, sense of responsibility, leadership skills and economic outcomes</a>.</p>
<p>Lessons learned from the Black Youth Mentorship and Leadership Program, alongside other research, indicate the potential of mentorship programs to contribute to improved social and economic outcomes for Black youth. This will serve as a key ingredient to addressing anti-Black racism in Canada.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/222796/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span> Bukola Salami receives funding from Policywise for Children and Families for a project on mental health of Black youth named in this article.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Aloysius Nwabugo Maduforo and Myra Kandemiri do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Mentorship programs serving Black youth are an important part of addressing anti-Black racism in Canada.Bukola Salami, Professor, Department of Community Health Sciences, University of CalgaryAloysius Nwabugo Maduforo, Research Manager, Department of Community Health Sciences, University of CalgaryMyra Kandemiri, Academic Teaching Staff Assistant Lecturer, Faculty of Education, University of AlbertaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2240652024-03-14T17:07:50Z2024-03-14T17:07:50ZNine years after #OscarsSoWhite, a look at what’s changed<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/6e95de91-d1cf-4295-804b-8236faeb66fc?dark=true"></iframe>
<p>On Sunday, nine years after #OscarsSoWhite, millions of us tuned into watch the 96th annual Academy Awards — some to simply take in the spectacle. And some to see how much had changed. </p>
<p>The hashtag <a href="https://www.essence.com/news/nine-years-after-oscars-so-white/">#OscarsSoWhite</a> started after many people noticed that, for a second year in a row, all nominees for four of five major categories were white. The movement called on Hollywood to do better: to better reflect America’s demographic realities and also to expand its depiction of our histories. </p>
<p>The reason: representation in Hollywood matters. What gets put on screens and by whom has reverberating impacts on how all of us see each other and see ourselves. </p>
<p>So …. how did the Oscars do this year?</p>
<p>Let’s take a brief look at the evening, which started with the anti-war protests outside the theatre slowing down traffic and delaying the broadcast by a full five minutes.</p>
<p>Although there were only seven racialized actors up for nominations, there were some notable wins in that arena.</p>
<p>Cord Jefferson accepted his award for best adapted screenplay for <em>American Fiction</em>. When at the podium, he talked about how many people passed over the project — a Black film with a primary Black cast. To the producers out there listening, he made a plea to acknowledge and recognize the many talented Black playwrights out there that deserve similar opportunities. He suggested one way would be that producers fund 10 small projects instead of one $200 million dollar film. </p>
<p>Lily Gladstone, though she didn’t win, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/2317306947668">was the first North American Indigenous woman to be nominated for best actress in its 96-year history</a>. </p>
<p>And Da'Vine Joy Randolph won best supporting actress for her role in <em>The Holdovers</em>, and made a memorable appearance and acceptance speech. </p>
<p>But one night at the Oscars doesn’t paint the full picture.</p>
<p>Just a few months ago, award-winning actor, Taraji P. Henson, broke down in tears <a href="https://variety.com/2023/film/news/taraji-p-henson-cries-quitting-acting-pay-disparity-hollywood-1235847420/">in an interview with journalist Gayle King</a>. She was exhausted from breaking glass ceilings as a Black woman in film. “I’m just tired of working so hard being gracious at what I do getting paid a fraction of the cost,” she said. “I’m tired of hearing my sisters say the same thing over and over.”</p>
<p>Henson explained that in 2008’s <em>The Curious Case of Benjamin Button</em>, she was paid significantly less than her co-stars despite having third billing on the call sheet. Henson nearly turned down her role in <em>The Colour Purple</em> for similar reasons.</p>
<p>The pay disparity for Black and Indigenous women in comparison to white women in Hollywood is nothing new.</p>
<p>Here in Canada, the problem is just as pervasive.</p>
<p>Despite some recent wins, a report from Telefilm Canada revealed that <a href="https://www.screendaily.com/news/report-shows-drop-in-number-of-canadian-women-in-film-tv-compared-to-pre-pandemic-times-exclusive/5185452.article">Black women have the least representation in TV and film</a>.</p>
<p>They also lead the fewest projects and receive the least funding overall.</p>
<p>To shed some light on the issue, we spoke to two women well versed on the challenges of Black, Indigenous and other women of colour in film and TV.</p>
<p>Naila Keleta-Mae, a playright, poet and singer as well as the Canada Research Chair in Race, Gender and Performance and associate professor of communication arts at the University of Waterloo said that while we need more voices at the table, Black female artists have not been waiting for scraps: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“We have been making the work all this time and will continue to regardless. While we insist on eating at the table, we will also simultaneously continue to nourish and feast on what we’ve been doing.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We also spoke with actor and director Mariah Inger, the chair of ACTRA National’s Diversity, Equity, Inclusion & Belonging Committee.</p>
<p>Inger warned us to remember that the Oscars represent only one per cent of those working in the industry. And that while many working actors, writers, directors may look to the Oscars as a dream, the reality is that they show up every day because this is where they feel most called to contribute to the world. And she says, in that everyday world, things are shifting.</p>
<h2>Listen and follow</h2>
<p>You can listen to or follow <a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com/"><em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em></a> on <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876">Apple Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7">Spotify</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_mJBLBznANz6ID9rBCUk7gv_ZRC4Og9-">YouTube</a> or wherever you listen to your favourite podcasts. Full but unedited transcripts are available within seven days of publication.</p>
<p><a href="mailto:dcmr@theconversation.com">We’d love to hear from you</a>, including any ideas for future episodes.</p>
<p>Join the Conversation on <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dontcallmeresilientpodcast/">Instagram</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">X</a>, <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/company/theconversationcanada">LinkedIn</a> and <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@theconversation">TikTok</a> and use #DontCallMeResilient.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/224065/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
It’s been nine years since #OscarsSoWhite called out a lack of diversity at the Oscars. Has anything changed? Prof. Naila Keleta-Mae and actress Mariah Inger unpack the progress.Vinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientDannielle Piper, Associate Producer, Don't Call Me Resilient, The ConversationAteqah Khaki, Associate Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2220532024-02-14T14:39:57Z2024-02-14T14:39:57ZAddressing anti-Black racism is key to improving well-being of Black Canadians<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/575109/original/file-20240212-26-1lvn1y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=45%2C22%2C7549%2C4873&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Anti-Black racism continues to be a major determinant of poor health and social outcomes for Black Canadians. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Anti-Black racism continues to be a major determinant of poor health and social outcomes for Black Canadians. Addressing this racism within Canadian institutions — like the health-care system, justice system, the child welfare system and education — has far-reaching implications. </p>
<p>The COVID-19 pandemic is a good example. Black populations had the <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/45-28-0001/2022001/article/00010-eng.htm">highest age-standardized mortality rate</a> among racial groups in Canada. Moreover, in the early days of the pandemic, <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/7015522/black-neighbourhoods-toronto-coronavirus-racism/">living in a Black</a> community was strongly correlated with a diagnosis of COVID-19. Black Canadians also have a <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/82-003-x/2023002/article/00001-eng.htm">higher mortality</a> rate from HIV, diabetes and several forms of cancer.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://crrf-fcrr.ca/glossary-of-terms/">Canadian Race Relations Foundation</a> describes anti-Black racism as “policies and practices…that mirror and reinforce beliefs, attitudes, prejudice, stereotyping and/or discrimination towards people of African descent.” </p>
<p>As a Canadian Black academic and a parent of two young children, I know that anti-Black racism has real-world consequences. Research reveals that Black children and youths are overrepresented in the <a href="https://theconversation.com/equitable-sentencing-can-mitigate-anti-black-racism-in-canadas-justice-system-217515">criminal justice</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/we-know-better-so-why-arent-we-doing-better-in-supporting-the-health-of-children-and-youth-in-care-193726">child welfare systems</a>, and have lower <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/75-006-x/2020001/article/00002-eng.htm">post-secondary school completion rates.</a> </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/recognizing-history-of-black-nurses-a-first-step-to-addressing-racism-and-discrimination-in-nursing-125538">Recognizing history of Black nurses a first step to addressing racism and discrimination in nursing</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Historically, Black people in Canada were denied enrolment in <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/racial-segregation-of-black-students-in-canadian-schools">medical schools</a> and <a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781442609952/moving-beyond-borders/">nursing schools</a>, which has had long-term impacts on the provision of culturally sensitive health care.</p>
<h2>Contemporary and historical inequities</h2>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A Black doctor with a Black mother and child" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/575108/original/file-20240212-28-pmgxwg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black people in Canada were denied enrolment in medical schools and nursing schools, which has had long-term impacts on the provision of culturally sensitive health care.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Black Canadians’ experiences are rooted in contemporary and historical inequities, including Canada’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-reparations-and-apologies-to-african-canadians-are-necessary-140527">history of slavery</a> and racial discrimination. Canada’s early immigration policies were racist, such as <a href="https://pier21.ca/research/immigration-history/immigration-act-1910">Section 38 of the Immigration Act of 1910</a>, which: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“prohibited for a stated period, or permanently, the landing in Canada, or the landing at any specified port of entry in Canada, of immigrants belonging to any race deemed unsuited to the climate or requirements of Canada, or of immigrants of any specified class, occupation or character.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>It was further proposed that “the Negro race…is deemed unsuitable to the climate and requirements of Canada.”</p>
<p>Findings from my research are consistent with the <a href="https://digitallibrary.un.org/record/1304262?ln=en">United Nations Report of the Working Group of Experts on People of African Descent</a> on its mission to Canada, which affirmed the negative legacy of these past practices. Policy formulations still shape access to material resources and contribute to structural inequities in Canada, evident in the pervasive low incomes of Black Canadians.</p>
<p>While median annual wages generally increase for the Canadian population, <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020001-eng.htm">Black men’s wages have remained stagnant</a>. Economic deprivation and employment barriers informed by anti-Black racism also have generational consequences. Significantly, Black children (and Filipino children) are the only two groups of children that <strong>on average</strong> <a href="https://doi.org/10.29173/cjs1651">do not surpass their parents</a>’ levels of education in Canada. </p>
<p>As well, many Black immigrant women, especially from Western and Central Africa, experience high levels of poverty despite their <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020001-eng.htm">high educational achievements</a>, often acquired prior to coming to Canada.</p>
<h2>Black youth mental health</h2>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1503/cmaj.212142">Black youth spoke most about racism</a> in our research on their mental health experiences. They internalize racism, which in turn affects their future well-being. We learned that numerous factors intersect to create challenges. For example, Black youth are often perceived as guilty of unacceptable behaviours and must prove themselves innocent. The prevailing perception that toxic or unhealthy masculinity is an attribute of Black men also affects their mental health.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/black-mens-mental-health-concerns-are-going-unnoticed-and-unaddressed-221862">Black men's mental health concerns are going unnoticed and unaddressed</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.24095/hpcdp.41.9.01">Income inequality</a> and insufficient financial resources are complicating factors, impeding many young Black men from getting the counselling they need to improve their mental health. When they do access such supports, lack of diversity among providers and culturally appropriate services can be further barriers. LGBTQIA+ Black youth may face dire situations, experiencing racism within the LGBTQIA+ community and homophobia within the Black community.</p>
<h2>Addressing inequities</h2>
<p>Partnering with Black communities is a crucial component in effective efforts to mitigate inequities. Indeed, it is essential that Black community members participate, to capitalize on their strengths and actively engage in improving their well-being. </p>
<p>Through my personal and professional experiences, I’ve had a unique glimpse into the brilliance and strengths of various Black communities, which are often untapped. These includes a collectivist orientation, spirituality and the value of respect. Mentorship within these communities has also produced several unique gains. For example, my participation in the University of Toronto <a href="https://temertymedicine.utoronto.ca/summer-mentorship-program">Summer Mentorship Program</a> in my early years in Canada, contributed to my success. I have also created a <a href="https://cumming.ucalgary.ca/office/precision-equity-social-justice/pathway-supports/black-youth-mentorship-program">Black Youth Mentorship and Leadership Program</a> to socially and economically empower Black youth to contribute to the society. Around 150 Black youth have been trained. </p>
<p>Several other mentorship programs exist in Black communities and some, as indicated above, were created by <a href="https://medicine.dal.ca/departments/core-units/global-health/plans.html">Black faculty members and administrators in educational institutions</a>. </p>
<p>Institutions must do more than just provide education and develop anti-racist policies; they must also ensure accountability in addressing racism. Embedding anti-racism practices in evaluation at all levels is an important step, especially since many professions in Canada don’t include anti-racism as a required competence. Such changes will support improved social and health outcomes overall.</p>
<p>Collecting <a href="https://theconversation.com/black-health-matters-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-5-transcript-156090">race-based data</a> is still not that common, but as this practice becomes more widespread, the data will tell us more about the ongoing social and health outcomes of Black Canadians. My aim is to help all Canadians understand that anti-Black racism in our country does not exist in isolation; it intersects with many other aspects of people’s lives. Race-based data is a step towards better understanding these relationships.</p>
<h2>Looking ahead</h2>
<p>Anti-Black racism has health, social and economic consequences for Black populations in Canada. We are a growing population in Canada of approximately <a href="https://www.statcan.gc.ca/en/dai/smr08/2024/smr08_278">1.5 million</a> individuals who self-identify as Black, accounting for 4.3 per cent of the country’s total population. </p>
<p>However, anti-Black racism has consequences for population outcomes for all Canadians, as we saw during the <a href="https://theconversation.com/inquiry-into-coronavirus-nursing-home-deaths-needs-to-include-discussion-of-workers-and-race-139017">COVID-19 pandemic</a>. It is key that we provide mentorship, collect race-based data, take <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/ces.2020.0017">strength-based</a> participatory research approaches and establish and maintain accountable practices that centralize race and its intersections. </p>
<p>These moves will improve health and social outcomes for Black Canadians and generate stronger population outcomes in Canada.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/222053/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bukola Salami receives funding from Policywise for Children and Families for a project on mental health of Black youth named in this article</span></em></p>Anti-Black racism has health, social and economic consequences for Black populations in Canada. Partnering with Black communities is a crucial component in effective efforts to mitigate inequities.Bukola Salami, Professor, Department of Community Health Sciences, University of CalgaryLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2207382024-02-11T13:51:40Z2024-02-11T13:51:40ZBlack Londoners of Canada: Digital mapping reveals Ontario’s Black history and challenges myths<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573874/original/file-20240206-20-tawyco.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=285%2C457%2C1015%2C514&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Reproduction of a landscape drawing of London, Ont. (Canada West) in 1855. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Map & Data Centre/Western Libraries at Western University) </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Aurelia Jones was a prominent member of the Black community in mid-19th century London, Ontario, Canada, and the spouse of Abel Bedford Jones, a Black entrepreneur and religious and political leader. </p>
<p>After A.B.’s death, Aurelia moved to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The archival traces of her life tell the story of a migration from one Black community with British and American affiliations to another with strong Caribbean influences.</p>
<p>As research associates on the <a href="https://news.westernu.ca/2023/02/formerly-enslaved-black-londoners-digital-archive">Black Londoners Project</a> at Western University, we are finding historical clues about people like Aurelia Jones and exploring the Black history of London, Ont., by using a digital mapping approach. This methodology helps to understand the movements of individual people and how these movements, in turn, reveal connections within communities and to other places. </p>
<p>Black migration to and from Canada is an ongoing process dating back to the <a href="https://ugapress.org/book/9780820329406/the-hanging-of-angelique/">17th century</a>. The migrations of Black individuals often reflect the geographic and cultural connections of Black communities across borders and further into the <a href="https://boydellandbrewer.com/9781580464536/the-african-diaspora/">African diaspora</a>. </p>
<h2>Black geographies, Canadian myths</h2>
<p>Scholars such as <a href="https://btlbooks.com/book/black-geographies-and-the-politics-of-place">Katherine McKittrick</a>, <a href="https://www.queensu.ca/gnds/people/katherine-mckittrick">professor and Canada research chair in Black Studies</a>, have highlighted how understanding Black history means being attentive to how <a href="https://guides.lib.berkeley.edu/blackgeographies/gettingstarted">geography, culture and race intersect</a> in the formation of Black communities.</p>
<p>Such considerations challenge persistent myths of Canada’s past. For example, Black Canadian historian <a href="https://www.barringtonwalker.com/">Barrington Walker</a> has argued there is a <a href="https://www.osgoodesociety.ca/book/the-african-canadian-legal-odyssey-historical-essays/">“deep psychic and emotional attachment to the idea of Canada as a refuge and a haven from U.S. slavery and racial injustice.</a>” </p>
<p>The promise of freedom on British soil <a>creates a moral binary between the United States and Canada</a> that obscures <a href="https://theconversation.com/ancestry-ad-gets-it-wrong-canada-was-never-slave-free-116051">the history of slavery in Canada</a>.</p>
<p>Further, the idea that African American refugees uniformly would become loyal British subjects misrepresents the enduring connections between Black Canadians and other parts of the <a href="https://libguides.northwestern.edu/AfricanDiaspora">African diaspora</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/meet-the-black-snowshoers-who-walked-1-000-kilometres-across-canada-in-1813-126977">Meet the Black snowshoers who walked 1,000 kilometres across Canada in 1813</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Shifting the focus from nationalist discourse to migrations among Black communities helps us better understand everyday Black life. </p>
<h2>Digital Black history projects</h2>
<p>The Black Londoners Project approaches Black history geographically by supplementing the narratives of 16 Black refugees from slavery and racial oppression in the U.S. with archival evidence (among others, personal narratives, census information and newspaper articles) of their lives in London, Ont. </p>
<p>The project aims to form a map of Black spaces in London, and to trace the connection diverse African diasporas have to the city. Digital tools then visualize how Black communities shaped each other and Canadian society at large. </p>
<p>Users of our online site will be able to read biographical entries with digitized archival materials and to browse digital maps of Black historical sites in London. The website will also connect with other digital Black Canadian History projects: </p>
<ul>
<li><a href="https://www.blackpeopleshistory.ca/">A Black People’s History of Canada</a> aims to address and rectify the absences of Black Canadian history in school curricula. The project is headed by <a href="https://afuacooper.com/">Afua Cooper</a>, professor in the department of sociology and social anthropology at Dalhousie University; </li>
</ul>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZBDvF9DCq9c?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Afua Cooper speaks about ‘A Black People’s History of Canada.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<ul>
<li><p><a href="https://www.blackpress.huronresearch.ca/">The Black Press in 19th-century Canada and Beyond</a> explores the history of journalism as intellectual activism in Black Canadian and international history. It is led by <a href="https://ccie.educ.ubc.ca/boulou-ebanda-de-bberi/">Boulou Ebanda de B'béri</a>, research director and professor in the department of communication at University of Ottawa, and <a href="https://huronatwestern.ca/profiles/faculty/nina-reid-maroney-phd/">Nina Reid-Maroney</a>, history professor at Huron University College; </p></li>
<li><p><a href="https://mobaprojects.ca/">Mapping Ontario’s Black Archives</a> presents a map of museums and archives that house records of Black-centred histories and is led by <a href="https://www.drcherylthompson.com/">Cheryl Thompson</a>, associate professor of performance studies and director for the Laboratory for Black Creativity at Toronto Metropolitan University.</p></li>
</ul>
<h2>Black oral history, digital mapping</h2>
<p>Digital mapping of Black migrations allows us to centre Black historical presence in public memory and examine Black oral narratives outside of their abolitionist framing. The teacher and white abolitionist, Benjamin Drew, published narratives of Black refugees in Ontario in his 1856 anti-slavery report, <a href="https://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/drew/drew.html"><em>The Refugee; or, A North-Side View of Slavery</em></a>. A primary narrative of A.B. Jones comes from Drew’s report. </p>
<p>A.B. Jones told Drew about his desires for liberty in Canada, stating: “I wished then to emigrate to some place where I could be really a FREE MAN … therefore, I came here, and am only sorry to say that I did not come years before I did.” The passing of the <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/fugitive-slave-act-of-1850#:%7E:text=The%20Fugitive%20Slave%20Act%20of,in%20the%20South%20once%20captured.">Fugitive Slave Act in 1850</a> in the U.S. led to much Black migration across the border. </p>
<p>However, the attitude of many Black Canadians toward the potential of equality in Canada <a href="https://www.mqup.ca/black-american-missionary-in-canada--a-products-9780228014478.php">would change after the 1850s</a> as, for example, <a href="https://theconversation.com/black-history-how-racism-in-ontario-schools-today-is-connected-to-a-history-of-segregation-147633">access to education became increasingly segregated</a>.</p>
<p>Many would move <a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781487529178/unsettling-the-great-white-north/">within Canada, to the U.S. and other places</a> in search of support from and community with the African diaspora.</p>
<h2>Aurelia Jones</h2>
<p>Through A. B. Jones’s account, we learned of his spouse, Aurelia Jones (née Bonsor), in the marriage register of Upper Canada/Canada West. Following A. B.’s death around 1860, there are few records of Aurelia living in London. </p>
<p>Aurelia’s case shows how peripheral Black women are in the archive. In the words of African American Studies professor Ula Taylor, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/JOWH.2008.0010">“the clues to their experiences are limited, heavily tainted, or virtually nonexistent</a>.” A public record of Aurelia exists because of her husband: after she inherited his property, she appears as “Mrs. A.B. Jones” in tax records. </p>
<p>However, Aurelia reappears in <a href="https://www.canadiana.ca/view/oocihm.8_01136_2/212">Hutchinson’s Nova Scotia Directory of 1867</a> and in the <a href="https://www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/census/1881/Pages/item.aspx?itemid=617606">1881 Canada census for Nova Scotia</a>, living in Halifax. There, Aurelia lived on Creighton Street with a Black couple from Antigua and Jamaica. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Drawing showing a waterfront with boats and what appears to be log-constructed cabins." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=291&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=291&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=291&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=365&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=365&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574244/original/file-20240207-26-ojnwih.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=365&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">View of the city of Halifax, N.S., 1860, from Harper’s Weekly, Aug. 11, 1860.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015006963360">(HathiTrust)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Nova Scotia’s Black communities emerged from layers of migration; for example, <a href="https://broadviewpress.com/product/black-slavery-in-the-maritimes/#tab-description">Black Loyalists</a> arrived during the American Revolutionary War (1775-83), and African Caribbean peoples came looking for work in the 19th and 20th centuries. Creighton Street was a centre of Black Haligonian life well into the 20th century.</p>
<h2>Migrations, diasporic connections</h2>
<p>As researchers, we explore circumstances behind Aurelia’s migration to Halifax. </p>
<p>What potential factors led her to leave London? How did she meet her Halifax roommates? Had she established a social network with Black peoples from inside and outside Canada? These questions have remained unanswered because of her erasure and the lack of historical documentation on the lives of Black Canadian women from the 19th century. </p>
<p>Tracing out these intersections of Black communities leads us to visualize history in a way that acknowledges, in the words of <a href="https://arts-sciences.buffalo.edu/africana-and-american-studies/faculty/faculty-directory/walcott-rinaldo.html">Africana and American studies professor</a> Rinaldo Walcott, how Black people <a href="https://www.indigo.ca/en-ca/black-like-who-20th-anniversary-edition/9781554832071.html">“redraw and rechart the places/spaces that they occupy</a>.” </p>
<p>The Black documentary filmmaker Dawn Porter <a href="https://www.rd.com/article/why-black-history-month-shouldnt-be-a-single-month/">recently called for the need to expand public awareness of Black history beyond the shortest month of the year</a>. We recognize the irony in writing this piece during Black History Month. </p>
<p>For Black communities as well as activists and scholars, remembering Black history happens every day of the year. Visualizing Black geography asks us to think of more permanent, transnational ways of commemorating Black history and honouring lives like that of Aurelia Jones.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/220738/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Elizabeth Hinds-Hueglin works for Dr. Miranda Green-Barteet and Dr. Alyssa MacLean's Black Londoners Project at Western University. The Black Londoners Project receives funding from Western's Strategic Priorities Fund. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Mitterauer works for Dr. Miranda Green-Barteet and Dr. Alyssa MacLean's Black Londoners Project at Western University. The Black Londoners Project receives funding from Western's Strategic Priorities Fund.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Patrick Kinghan works for Dr. Miranda Green-Barteet and Dr. Alyssa MacLean's Black Londoners Project at Western University. The Black Londoners Project receives funding from Western's Strategic Priorities Fund.</span></em></p>The Black Londoners Project approaches Black history geographically by supplementing narratives of 16 Black individuals with archival evidence about their lives.Elizabeth Hinds-Hueglin, Research Associate in English and Writing Studies, Western UniversityDavid Mitterauer, PhD Candidate, English, and Research Assistant, Western UniversityPatrick Kinghan, PhD Candidate, Faculty of Education and Research Assistant, Western UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2222422024-02-11T13:50:31Z2024-02-11T13:50:31ZThe diversity within Black Canada should be recognized and amplified<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573888/original/file-20240206-22-3e51m3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C50%2C6720%2C4416&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Eden Hagos (right) the founder of Black Foodie, sits with fellow African content creator Yvonne Ben.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.blackfoodie.co/three-tips-for-enjoying-nigerian-food-at-home/">(Black Foodie)</a>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>It seems trite, in 2024, to suggest that the <a href="https://www.statcan.gc.ca/en/dai/smr08/2024/smr08_278">Black population in Canada is diverse</a>. On the surface, this is a relatively uncontroversial point to make and one that most people would agree with.</p>
<p>However, are we curious enough about what this diversity actually looks like? Further, what are the implications of reckoning with these nuances as we support and shape Black-focused policies, programs, studies, and spaces? These questions lead us into less certain terrain.</p>
<p>Global music star Abel Tesfaye, <a href="https://theconversation.com/ethiopias-musicians-fled-the-country-after-the-1974-revolution-how-their-culture-lives-on-206214">formerly known as The Weeknd</a>, is arguably one of the most recognizable contemporary Black Canadian figures. Piecing together some of the public details about his background and activities paints a picture that helps us appreciate the textured landscape of Black Canada today. </p>
<p><a href="https://pitchfork.com/thepitch/793-the-weeknds-east-african-roots/">Abel was born in Toronto to Ethiopian immigrant parents</a> and raised in Scarborough — a neighbourhood with diverse Black communities. His music draws on a wide repertoire of Black musical traditions, including R&B and <a href="https://www.okayafrica.com/the-weeknd-ethiopian-heritage/">Ethiopian influences and melodies</a>. </p>
<p>His recent philanthropy is also notable, including donations to causes such as <a href="https://www.billboard.com/music/rb-hip-hop/the-weeknd-donated-500k-racial-justice-initiatives-9395412/">Black Lives Matter</a>, <a href="https://www.utoronto.ca/news/support-weeknd-u-t-s-ethiopic-program-soars-past-500000-endowment-goal">Ethiopic Studies at the University of Toronto</a> and humanitarian <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-56638328">efforts in Tigray (northern Ethiopia)</a>. </p>
<p>When we zoom in to individual stories like Abel’s, we can appreciate the multifaceted nature of Black Canada and the connections between contemporary and historical processes and events.</p>
<h2>Black Canadian histories</h2>
<p>Black Studies scholars Peter James Hudson and Aaron Kamugisha remind us that “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26752055">despite Black Canada’s apparent marginality</a>,” it exists and matters as it relates to our histories, cultures, ideas and politics as a country. The new edited volume <a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781487529178/unsettling-the-great-white-north/"><em>Unsettling the Great White North: Black Canadian History</em></a> by history professors Michele A. Johnson and Funké Aladejebi underscores this point and demonstrates that we can trace Black people to every corner in Canada, across both space and time.</p>
<p>There are many historic Black communities in Canada established by people brought by, fleeing and descended from the transatlantic slave trade, <a href="https://humanrights.ca/story/story-africville">including Africville</a>, a Black settlement in Nova Scotia. </p>
<p>There was a new and large wave of <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020001-eng.htm">Black people who arrived from the Caribbean beginning in the 1960s</a>, following the introduction of a point-based immigration system in Canada. Generations of Caribbean communities have made an indelible mark on Canada, from <a href="https://www.canadian-nurse.com/blogs/cn-content/2022/02/18/black-cross-nurses-were-the-heartbeat-of-providing">underpinning the health-care system</a> in the 20th century, to solidifying the <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/documentaries/short-docs/the-story-of-toronto-s-bizarre-1985-patty-wars-when-the-government-tried-to-rename-the-beef-patty-1.6352203">Jamaican beef patty as an essential staple</a> in the Toronto diet.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/covid-19s-impact-on-migrant-workers-adds-urgency-to-calls-for-permanent-status-148237">COVID-19's impact on migrant workers adds urgency to calls for permanent status</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>This only begins to scratch the surface of the multiplicity of experiences, communities and stories encompassed within Black Canada. Yet even these few details are ones you rarely bump into, but rather have to go searching for on your own. The mainstream discourse around Blackness in Canada often <a href="https://theconversation.com/black-canadian-women-artists-detangle-the-roots-of-black-beauty-109560">leans too heavily upon American Black history and politics</a>, and/or monolithic depictions of “the Black community.”</p>
<p>There is utility and beauty found behind the broad and unifying banner of Blackness. We saw this most starkly during the height of the Black Lives Matter movement, as a diversity of Black people, communities and organizations stood in solidarity and collective pain and grief. While it is important to amplify and stay attuned to these collective identities and movements, it should not be at the expense of attention to the details of this bigger picture.</p>
<h2>New waves of immigration</h2>
<p>Statistics Canada census data from both <a href="https://publications.gc.ca/collections/collection_2019/statcan/89-657-x/89-657-x2019002-eng.pdf">2016</a> and <a href="https://www.statcan.gc.ca/en/dai/smr08/2023/smr08_270">2021</a> captures changes that were already apparent to many of us living alongside, working with or paying attention to Black people in Canada. Demographics have shifted considerably, owing in large part to new waves and patterns in immigration trends. </p>
<p>To begin with, the Black population in Canada is growing rapidly — from <a href="https://www.statcan.gc.ca/en/dai/smr08/2022/smr08_259">573,000 in 1996</a> to <a href="https://www.statcan.gc.ca/en/dai/smr08/2023/smr08_270">1.5 million in 2021</a>. Around 60 per cent of Black people in Canada were born abroad. While earlier generations of Black immigrants were mostly from the Caribbean, more recent immigrants are coming from African countries, including Nigeria and Ethiopia. This is also shifting broader national demographics, as Africa is now the second largest source continent representing recent immigrants in Canada.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A Statistics Canada chart showing the origin of Black immigrants from before 1981 to 2016. The proportion of immigrants from Africa increased from 4.8 per cent before 1981 to 65 per cent in 2016." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=294&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=294&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=294&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=370&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=370&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/573603/original/file-20240205-19-hckuzj.gif?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=370&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Statistics Canada data shows how the background of Black immigrants has changed over recent decades.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2019002-eng.htm">(Statistics Canada)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These migration patterns are more than footnotes in Black Canadian history. This diversity intersects with vastly different migration pathways and immigration statuses, class differences, unique cultural and linguistic influences, a multitude of religious traditions, as well as a variety of local and transnational social and political practices. </p>
<h2>Diversity of Black experiences</h2>
<p>We need the language, and quite frankly the attention span, to make sense of these unique Black trajectories and stories in Canada. For example, experiences and insights coming from the Somali diaspora community in Etobicoke are likely different than long-established Black communities in Halifax. Also, despite living with the unifying experience of encountering anti-Black racism, new Black Canadians who arrive as economic migrants may benefit from resources and privileges unavailable to Black folks who grew up in structurally-induced intergenerational poverty.</p>
<p>There is also so much to make note of as far as how Blackness itself is being made and remade in Canada through these shifting tides. Eden Hagos is a young Black-Canadian entrepreneur and founder of the online food and culture platform <a href="https://www.blackfoodie.co/">Black Foodie</a>. Hagos was inspired to become an advocate for Black food and culture after <a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/food-and-wine/food-trends/eden-hagoss-black-foodie-blog-examines-the-racial-rhetoric-of-food/article30755637/">experiencing a racist incident at a European restaurant in Toronto</a>. </p>
<p>When you peruse Black Foodie content (including her merchandise donning phrases such as “Injera + Chill” and “Jollof + Chill”), you see that Hagos’s expression of Blackness is filtered through her East African roots, and her culinary routes through various African, Caribbean and Black American traditions.</p>
<p>If we care to make Black communities more visible and amplify their voices and demands for change and belonging, it is critical we also tune into these diversity of experiences and perspectives. We should take care to ensure the hard-earned policies and initiatives intended to combat the legacy of <a href="https://theconversation.com/call-out-anti-black-racism-every-day-not-as-a-campaign-tactic-183792">anti-Black racism in Canada</a> are extended throughout Black communities, and not just to those who have the easiest access to them. </p>
<p>In public discourse and national remembering, we need to continue the project of raising consciousness around the stories of historic Black communities while also drawing attention to contemporary diasporic communities, like the <a href="https://www.torontomu.ca/arts/about/new-hires/sam-tecle/">forthcoming book</a> by sociologist Sam Tecle does.</p>
<p>From an academic perspective, Black Studies in Canada also needs to make note of and engage with this diversity of experience. It should foster a new set of research questions and curricula that reflect this dynamism and diversity.</p>
<p>While concepts like “Black Canada” are useful blanket terms and an important organizing identity, a closer look reveals a detailed and fascinating tapestry that also deserves to be put on display.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/222242/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alpha Abebe has received funding from the the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for previous research that has informed this article.</span></em></p>While “Black Canada” is a useful blanket term and important organizing identity, a closer look reveals a detailed tapestry of communities that also deserves visibility.Alpha Abebe, Assistant Professor, Faculty of Humanities, McMaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2205372024-01-22T22:32:59Z2024-01-22T22:32:59ZYoung Black men in Canada face racism, ageism and classism when looking for work<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569965/original/file-20240117-19-skld11.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C0%2C5372%2C3581&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Black people in Canada continue experiencing oppression and dehumanization because of how their skin colour is viewed and represented.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/young-black-men-in-canada-face-racism-ageism-and-classism-when-looking-for-work" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>Youth employment in Canada continues to be a concern. Young people between the ages of 15 and 30 <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/42-28-0001/2021001/article/00002-eng.htm">are less likely to find and sustain employment compared to an older population of Canadians</a>.</p>
<p>According to Statistics Canada, around 11 per cent of youth aged 15-24 are unemployed. Among young Black Canadians that number is around <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/daily-quotidien/240105/dq240105a-eng.htm">17.5 per cent</a>.</p>
<p>Black people in Canada continue experiencing oppression and dehumanization <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/cars.12400">because of how their skin colour is viewed and represented</a>.</p>
<p>Impoverished Black male youth in particular encounter racism, ageism, classism and gender biases when looking for work. These are stereotypes which encourage many Canadian employers to view them as not good for business and unemployable.</p>
<h2>Intersecting oppressions</h2>
<p>As a sociocultural anthropologist who is dedicated to uncovering the nuances in Black youth un(der)employment, I have found that impoverished Black youths’ inability to find employment is due to <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/intersectionality-as-critical-social-theory">intersectional oppressions</a> such as ageism and classism, which is also tied to their Blackness. </p>
<p>The challenges they face vary among different Canadian cities. In my <a href="https://repository.library.carleton.ca/concern/etds/xg94hq41j">doctoral study</a> about impoverished Black male youth in Montréal, Ottawa and Toronto, I found these youth are denied employment opportunities for multifaceted reasons. These include discrimination based on a person’s address, age, classism and gender biases — particularly about the negative stereotypical ideas that surround Black manhood. </p>
<p>The sociological study focused on Black male youth between the ages of 15 to 29 who live in low income areas between Montréal, Toronto and Ottawa. The qualitative study gathered data from 21 young Black men through semi-structured interviews and focus groups. </p>
<p>Political philosopher <a href="https://groveatlantic.com/book/toward-the-african-revolution/">Frantz Fanon</a> warned us of the dangers of recognizing Black people’s experiences as one. Black people have differences that contribute to their humanness, which the colonizer has denied.</p>
<p>Similarly, when we presume all youth have the same experiences, we fail to take diversity seriously and may be falsely interpreting the lived experiences of many youth. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A young Black man working on a laptop." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569950/original/file-20240117-21-xa58hw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Young Black men face overlapping forms of discrimination based on racist and classist views of Black masculinity.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There was never one reason, such as anti-Black racism, which was the cause of employment barriers among these young people. The reality is these youth experience overlapping discrimination that are tied to anti-Black racism, such as classism, which varied based on different encounters with various employers.</p>
<p>My study found that impoverished Black male youth are tied to a socially manufactured hierarchical system that considers race, gender, sexuality, ability, age, social class and education. Unfortunately, employers excluded them because of the many intersections that make up their identities.</p>
<p>Although the Canadian government recognizes Black youth face barriers to employment, <a href="https://www.miragenews.com/minister-marci-ien-supports-black-youth-955894/">few politicians recognize that more needs to be done to create inclusivity in the workplace</a>. The lived experiences of impoverished Black male youth and their ability to access employment are not the same nationwide. </p>
<h2>Secularism laws impact opportunities</h2>
<p>My study also found that many Black male youth in Montréal are also at the mercy of Québec’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-supposed-benefits-of-quebec-secularism-bill-dont-outweigh-the-costs-114907">secularism law</a>. Black male youth in the city must deal with classism and constantly being tied to the unworthy idea that they do not serve many employees’ needs. This is based on the stereotypical ideas of what their Black masculinity represents. </p>
<p>Some of these young people adorn religious clothing, which has complicated their job-seeking strategies. Many young Black men living in the province <a href="https://policyoptions.irpp.org/magazines/february-2023/elghawaby-quebec-double-standard/">face discrimination based on their religious values</a> and their clothing or attire was a reason they were overlooked for employment.</p>
<p>These secularism laws are an added issue for impoverished Black male youth seeking employment, as many of them do not feel a sense of belonging, and are constantly faced with intersecting social oppressions where they are overlooked for employment opportunities. </p>
<p>We must realize that some laws and policies may be suitable for some Canadians. But in an effort to create legislation, there is a disregard for the social concerns of those who have been othered. Creating laws without considering them adds to a sense that they do not belong in this country.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A Black teenage boy carrying a backpack poses for a photo." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/570411/original/file-20240119-17-moluuo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black men and boys must continuously confront racist narratives that impact their future prospects.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Thinking through Black masculinity</h2>
<p>For years, Black Canadian scholars such as <a href="https://edu.yorku.ca/edu-profiles/index.php?mid=2196">Carl James</a>, <a href="https://brocku.ca/social-sciences/sociology/people/tamari-kitossa/">Tamari Kitossa</a> and myself have discussed Black masculinities in Canada and how Black men are seen as dangerous, untrustworthy men undeserving of a sense of belonging in the white settler nation-state. </p>
<p><a href="https://ualbertapress.ca/9781772125436/appealing-because-he-is-appalling/">These historical narratives continue to inform our present day society</a>, which has complicated how impoverished young Black men seek and obtain employment. Failing to recognize these tensions among young Black men is distancing ourselves from the lived experiences rooted in history, which are playing out in our contemporary moments.</p>
<p>The young Black men I spoke to courageously shared what it means to seek employment while having to negotiate your right to be treated fairly. When these young men do eventually obtain employment, they are often trapped in low-paying, menial labour positions reflective of unfair stereotypes about Black masculinity.</p>
<p>This type of work degrades their humanity and selfhood. The dehumanization faced by these youth when they attempt to seek employment demonstrates how they are othered not solely by their race.</p>
<p>For there to be equitable hiring practices, governments and employers must understand anti-Black racism in light of the intertwined forms of discrimination that often accompany it. </p>
<p>Homogenizing the lived experiences of Black youth can cause harm and promote misconceptions about their lived experiences. I urge people to refrain from thinking about racialized people based on their race alone. Instead, we should intentionally focus on the individuality of people. We must practice cultural competency which invites us to appreciate people and their different lived experiences.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/220537/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Warren Clarke does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Young Black men are being denied employment for multifaceted reasons, and when they do find work, are often trapped in low-paying jobs.Warren Clarke, Assistant Professor, Anthropology, University of ManitobaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2197042023-12-14T15:54:12Z2023-12-14T15:54:12Z‘American Fiction’ asks who gets to decide Blackness<iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/american-fiction-asks-who-gets-to-decide-blackness" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>The much-anticipated <em>American Fiction</em> comes to theatres this month. As a long-time scholar of Percival Everett, the author whose 2001 novel, <a href="https://www.ctpublic.org/2023-12-12/advice-from-a-critic-read-erasure-before-seeing-american-fiction"><em>Erasure</em></a>, was adapted for this critically praised film I am curious how the main themes of the book will be explored.</p>
<p>Directed by Cord Jefferson and starring Jeffrey Wright, the film presents an opportunity to talk about race, power and white supremacy within intellectual and cultural spaces, including higher education. Specifically, what version of Blackness is acceptable or saleable within American culture? </p>
<p>Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, the protagonist of <em>American Fiction</em>, is a novelist and an English professor. He struggles with the power that determines which versions of Blackness “count” and who makes these determinations. </p>
<p>In <em>Erasure</em>, Monk is constantly told that his work is not “Black enough.” But the determination of his Blackness is most often decided by people who are not themselves racialized within American society. </p>
<p>He finally gets so fed-up by the lack of sales for his literary novels, that he decides to write a satirical novel as a joke. </p>
<p>To his complete surprise, his ghetto novel, <em>My Pafology</em>, becomes a bestselling, award-winning novel. The film rights eventually sell for millions. But Monk’s ambivalence is unavoidable, since his work’s “success” is based entirely on terms set by other people. </p>
<p>And now, a novel satirizing how stereotypical versions of Blackness are often preferred by and sold to American culture has been made into <em>American Fiction</em>, a major motion picture, with wide cinematic release. It’s difficult not to feel ambivalent.</p>
<p>As a scholar who has written two books and given numerous interviews and talks on Black identity and race in Canada and as a longtime university English professor and now a university administrator, I am not Monk. But I get Monk. Like him, I have been frustrated and confused by the disjunctions between theory and practice so characteristic of life in the academy, especially in those moments when race — and particularly Blackness — is being discussed. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/american-fiction-is-a-scathing-satire-that-challenges-pop-culture-stereotypes-of-blackness-217988">'American Fiction' is a scathing satire that challenges pop-culture stereotypes of Blackness</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Questions of power</h2>
<p>In my own setting, as a Black man born in Canada, working and teaching at an American college, I too am asking which versions of diversity matter and who decides how and when it matters.</p>
<p>Everett’s novel highlights racist mechanisms within society, many of which appear so natural that we no longer think of them as mechanisms at all.</p>
<p>In her 2019 book, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2019/jan/20/shoshana-zuboff-age-of-surveillance-capitalism-google-facebook"><em>The Age of Surveillance Capitalism</em></a>, American philosopher and scholar Shoshana Zuboff analyzes power through the role that giant tech companies play in our lives, often without our noticing them. Her book asks a question crucial to the understanding of how power works: “Who knows? Who decides? Who decides who decides?” </p>
<p>I find Zuboff’s questions useful in thinking about how power in relation to race works in colleges and universities, especially as institutions emphasize their commitment to “diversity,” on the one hand, while maintaining a glacial pace of change, on the other. </p>
<h2>Diversity needs a wholesale renovation</h2>
<p>Recently, someone at the Council of Colleges of Arts and Sciences <a href="https://www.ccas.net/i4a/pages/index.cfm?pageid=3940&pageid=1">(CCAS)</a> conference said the most effective way to diversify university faculties is through hiring. But the idea of hiring for diversity has led to a backlash in some quarters. </p>
<p>Recent attacks against <a href="https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2022/10/the-diversity-backlash-here-s-how-to-resist-it/">“diversity, equity and inclusion” policies</a> and <a href="https://www.reuters.com/legal/government/what-critical-race-theory-means-why-its-igniting-debate-2021-09-21/">misunderstandings of critical race theory</a> have pitted historical holders of power against those usually only spoken about. Controversies like these do not promise speedy progress where race is concerned.</p>
<p>I’m often equally perplexed by those who purport to be on my side. </p>
<p>Like Monk, the sources of much misunderstanding among my academic peers are people who say they want to help members of underrepresented groups on their campuses. </p>
<p>The expression “underrepresented groups” is another of these natural-looking expressions, now quite prominent in diversity policies. It actually obscures the important questions about the mechanisms and decisions that have resulted in these particular groups becoming underrepresented in universities in the first place. </p>
<p>The way that progress within a culture looks depends on who is doing the looking. At the CCAS conference, sociologist Nicole Stokes, interim vice-chancellor of student affairs at Pennsylvania State University (Abington), put all of this very well. She said a lot of the diversity work she sees looks a lot like surface remodelling, like putting new doors on old kitchen cabinets for example. But diversity work needs to be a wholesale renovation: when you take your kitchen down to the studs and start again.</p>
<p>In a way similar to who decides what is a saleable artifact from a minority culture, those deciding whether to remodel or to renovate are usually not those most directly affected by the history that has brought the need for such policies into being.</p>
<p>I’ve been a college professor for 28 years, and I’m currently an associate dean. If I feel this way, then how do you suppose junior colleagues of colour, or, more importantly, students of colour might feel? </p>
<p>For diversity policies to be taken seriously, we need to come clean on who has always decided their direction and value, and then work from there.</p>
<p>In the end, power dynamics don’t change in <em>American Fiction</em>, but at least Monk gets a bestseller and a movie deal.</p>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/edde9889-d430-40cb-b879-4b21d58d2936?dark=true"></iframe><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/219704/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anthony Stewart does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The release of ‘American Fiction’ presents an opportunity to talk about race, power and white supremacy: What version of Blackness is acceptable or saleable within American culture?Anthony Stewart, Associate Dean (Arts and Humanities), Bucknell UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2155822023-10-19T13:28:12Z2023-10-19T13:28:12ZHow corporate landlords are eroding affordable housing — and prioritizing profits over human rights<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/c864b34e-7908-4cdc-add9-d3d05288b150?dark=true"></iframe>
<p>One factor driving the housing crisis across the country is a shift away from publicly built housing toward large corporate-owned buildings where, as today’s guest Prof. Nemoy Lewis puts it, “housing is treated as a commodity, not a human right.”</p>
<p>For many people living in Canada, housing has emerged as one of the most challenging issues. This is especially true in our largest cities, where financial stress plagues many households.</p>
<p>Home ownership is widely out of reach and for renters, housing is scarce, expensive and <a href="https://toronto.citynews.ca/2021/12/09/east-york-gowan-tenants-rent-increase-starlight/">precarious</a>. </p>
<p>In Toronto, Canada’s largest city, <a href="https://www.homelesshub.ca/sites/default/files/attachments/Lewis-Financialization-Racialized-Impacts-ofha-en.pdf">vacancy rates are at their lowest levels in nearly two decades</a> and average rents have jumped nearly 10 per cent — the sharpest increase in more than a decade. <a href="https://x.com/YSWtenants/status/1708805743581765738?s=20">Last week’s rent strike in Toronto </a> is just one indication that Canadians need solutions. </p>
<p>According to today’s guest, Prof. Nemoy Lewis from the School of Urban and Regional Planning at Toronto Metropolitan University, one of the factors driving this affordability crisis has been a shift away from publicly built housing toward <a href="https://torontoobserver.ca/2022/11/08/thorncliffe-park-tenants-rent-hike/">large corporate-owned buildings</a>. And the result, he says, is that now: “housing is treated as a commodity, rather than a human right.” </p>
<p>Prof. Nemoy discusses the disproportionate impacts these corporate landlords are having on Black and low-income communities — in income-polarized cities that are increasingly accessible to only a small group of wealthy people.</p>
<h2>Read more in TC</h2>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/multigenerational-living-a-strategy-to-cope-with-unaffordable-housing-188114">Multigenerational living: A strategy to cope with unaffordable housing?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/cities-must-take-immediate-action-against-renovictions-to-address-housing-crisis-204170">Cities must take immediate action against 'renovictions' to address housing crisis</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/five-ways-landlords-unfairly-control-peoples-lives-129511">Five ways landlords unfairly control people's lives</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/what-if-we-treat-homelessness-like-a-pandemic-168553">What if we treat homelessness like a pandemic?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/publicly-owned-land-should-be-used-for-affordable-housing-not-sold-to-private-developers-198654">Publicly owned land should be used for affordable housing, not sold to private developers</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Resources</h2>
<p><a href="https://www.homelesshub.ca/sites/default/files/attachments/Lewis-Financialization-Racialized-Impacts-ofha-en.pdf">“The Uneven Racialized Impacts of Financialization”</a> (A Report for the Office of the Federal Housing Advocate, June 2022) by Nemoy Lewis</p>
<p><a href="https://btlbooks.com/book/the-tenant-class"><em>The Tenant Class</em></a> By Ricardo Tranjan</p>
<p><a href="https://www.saje.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/RTC.DF_.report.FINALPROOF-July2_2013.pdf">The Rise of the Corporate Landlord</a></p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/02673037.2023.2170988">Ethno-racial and nativity differences in the likelihood of living in affordable housing in Canada</a> by Kate H. Choi and Sagi Ramaj (<em>Housing Studies</em>) </p>
<p><a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/lawrence-ave-tenant-strike-toronto-1.6984182">North York tenants join hundreds of Torontonians striking against above-guideline rent increases
</a></p>
<p><a href="https://torontoobserver.ca/2022/11/08/thorncliffe-park-tenants-rent-hike/">Thorncliffe Park tenants protest above-limit rent hike</a> (<em>The Toronto Observer</em>)</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1710344891077730526"}"></div></p>
<h2>Listen and follow</h2>
<p>You can listen to or follow <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em> on <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876">Apple Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7">Spotify</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_mJBLBznANz6ID9rBCUk7gv_ZRC4Og9-">YouTube</a> or wherever you listen to your favourite podcasts. </p>
<p><a href="mailto:DCMR@theconversation.com">We’d love to hear from you</a>, including any ideas for future episodes. Join The Conversation on <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/dontcallmeresilientpodcast/">Instagram</a> and <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@theconversation">TikTok</a> and use #DontCallMeResilient.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/215582/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
A major factor driving our housing crisis is a shift toward corporate-owned buildings. Today’s guest, Prof. Nemoy Lewis, explains how we got here.Vinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientAteqah Khaki, Associate Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2078782023-09-06T19:11:24Z2023-09-06T19:11:24ZHalifax’s new development projects must not repeat the wrongs done to racialized communities<iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/halifaxs-new-development-projects-must-not-repeat-the-wrongs-done-to-racialized-communities" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>The African Nova Scotian community has long struggled with displacement and erasure when it comes to urban planning. In Halifax, <a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781487522728/displacing-blackness/">racism has influenced planning and civic governance</a> decisions. The <a href="https://humanrights.ca/story/story-africville">demolition of Africville</a> in the 1960s and subsequent expropriation without compensation are well-documented examples of injustices. </p>
<p>The Halifax Regional Municipality issued a formal <a href="https://www.halifax.ca/about-halifax/diversity-inclusion/african-nova-scotian-affairs/africville/apology">apology</a> in 2015, yet <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.3138/9781442686274">racism persists</a>. In the years since, there has been little substantial action to emplace African Nova Scotian residents in Downtown Halifax. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.halifax.ca/about-halifax/regional-community-planning/construction-projects/cogswell-district-redevelopment">Cogswell District Project</a> is a new opportunity to heal historic divides. The project is a mixed-use residential district planned on the site of the former Cogswell highway interchange in downtown Halifax.</p>
<p>The elevated interchange was at the epicentre of a <a href="https://www.halifax.ca/about-halifax/municipal-archives/exhibits/cogswell-interchange">1960s-era urban renewal project</a> to construct a highway system through downtown Halifax. Construction of the infrastructure, including modernist commercial centres and high rises, led to the demolition of entire residential streets and displacement of thousands of vulnerable residents, including many of the city’s poorest citizens. </p>
<p><a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781442674073/the-drama-of-democracy/">As urban planner Jill Grant wrote</a>, “Most Haligonians seemed to view the project as obliterating an obnoxious and embarrassing slum. Neither politicians nor planners took account of the people who lived in the area.” </p>
<p>Even as the Cogswell Interchange was being constructed, some Halifax residents <a href="https://www.halifaxpubliclibraries.ca/blogs/post/halifax-municipal-archives-the-cogswell-interchange-and-the-road-to-nowhere/">began to protest</a> against the destruction of the city’s fabric. In 1970, the highway project was halted, before it destroyed what remained of Halifax’s now beloved harbourfront. It took another half century for civic leaders to unwind this mid-century highway investment and order the deconstruction of the interchange now known as the “<a href="https://www.cbc.ca/ns/features/cogswell-interchange/?section=notalone">Road to Nowhere</a>.”</p>
<p>New urban designs for public space, road layouts and development blocks aim to knit physical separations between north and south in this Downtown Halifax area. These are promising, but the project must also seize the opportunity to heal other, more serious divisions with housing, class inequities and racial schisms.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://s3.ca-central-1.amazonaws.com/ehq-production-canada/documents/attachments/245493b156651d492cba4862093e8c5775263e8d/000/014/224/original/90_percent_construction_design_-_Regional_Council_-_Feb_26_2019.pdf?1551271386">vision put forth by urban designers</a> depicts a diverse community, but fostering that diversity in the future Cogswell District requires more than a false nod to inclusion.</p>
<h2>Gentrification and erasure</h2>
<p>Currently, construction of expensive housing developments on sites that were once affordable apartments in the North End is pushing residents out of the city in search of affordable housing, far from their roots and their established communities. This more recent wave of gentrification has been referred to as “<a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/article-africville-20-in-halifaxs-north-end-black-residents-fear-development/">Africville 2.0</a>.”</p>
<p>Thus far, <a href="https://www.thecoast.ca/news-opinion/no-affordable-housing-for-new-cogswell-district-18129011#:%7E:text=Even%20as%20the%20need%20for,is%20now%2060%20percent%20complete.">city officials have sidestepped important questions</a> about future land divestment, affordable housing and zoning. Without action, this profound chance for housing and community building will be missed.</p>
<p>Halifax Regional Municipality has promised to include some form of affordable housing in the future Cogswell District, but it is unclear what is meant by affordable.</p>
<p>A <a href="https://www.halifaxexaminer.ca/housing/densely-calculated-density/">density bonusing program</a> has been established to encourage the creation of public benefits including affordable housing by the private sector. But when given the choice, developers often choose to pay fees or provide amenities such as public art rather than build low-income housing. </p>
<p>The municipal government is currently discussing <a href="https://cdn.halifax.ca/sites/default/files/documents/city-hall/regional-council/230509rc1518.pdf">new Inclusionary Zoning policies</a>. However, even if implemented, they will not address particular emplacement goals such as housing for racialized people. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Jka-X7Pqfaw?wmode=transparent&start=52" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A video explaining the issue of affordable housing in Downtown Halifax’s Cogswell area.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>“Blight Removal” in Halifax’s past</h2>
<p>Exploring the connection between historic displacement in the Cogswell neighborhood and the prospects of emplacement for low-income residents today was a focus for a recent <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/620149492896177/?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A%2252%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22%5B%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22share_link%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22share_link%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A%7B%5C%22invite_link_id%5C%22%3A181488704731651%7D%7D%5D%22%7D">Jane’s Walk</a>, hosted by myself and local resident Treno Morton, in celebration of renowned urbanist Jane Jacobs.</p>
<p>Urban renewal goals in 1960s Halifax were twofold: the creation of a brand new harbourfront highway system and the removal of problematic housing. Cogswell presents a prime example of similar renewal programs criticized by Jacobs in her influential 1961 book, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/86058/the-death-and-life-of-great-american-cities-by-jane-jacobs/9780679644330"><em>The Death and Life of Great American Cities</em></a>.</p>
<p>Our walk toured the original targets of “<a href="https://www.thecoast.ca/news-opinion/cogswell-district-redesign-need-to-know-29848549">blight removal</a>” initiated by architect <a href="https://halifaxbloggers.ca/builthalifax/2015/08/gordon-stephenson-and-the-1957-redevelopment-study-of-halifax/">Gordon Stephenson</a>, who was hired in 1957 to create a strategy for slum clearance in Halifax. </p>
<p>Having trained under Swiss-French architect and revolutionary city planner <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Le-Corbusier">Le Corbusier</a> in the early 1930s, <a href="https://cdn.halifax.ca/sites/default/files/documents/about-the-city/archives/AboutTheCity_MunicipalArchives_SearchToolsAfricvilleResources_PDF2.pdf">Stephenson brought a modernist’s zeal to his work</a>. He produced maps with oversized dots representing perceived social ills such as households on welfare or children appearing in juvenile court. </p>
<p>This <a href="https://spacing.ca/atlantic/2010/02/22/representing-halifax-4-making-the-case-for-urban-renewal/">skewed mapping exercise</a> led to a sweeping program of erasure. Backed with federal, provincial and civic funds, homes were removed throughout the 1960s. Some people were relocated to new housing projects in the city’s North End. However, rehousing efforts were inadequate and thousands of residents were forced to move away from the district.</p>
<h2>Bridging Divides</h2>
<p>Halifax Regional Municipality’s council opted to redevelop the district in 2013. In the decade since, the municipality has conducted extensive public consultation as a <a href="https://www.halifax.ca/about-halifax/regional-community-planning/construction-projects/cogswell-district-redevelopment-1">“cornerstone”</a> of the planning process. </p>
<p>Thus far, the planning and design efforts have focused on street shapes and public space design, right down to fountains, bike lanes and benches. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.thecoast.ca/news-opinion/cogswell-district-redesign-need-to-know-29848549">However, meaningful dialogue about housing affordability and inclusion has been sidestepped</a> and land divestment remains a sensitive issue that planners and council members say they will address at some point in the future. Funds from the sale of development blocks will be used to pay for the <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/3027918/plans-to-demolish-cogswell-interchange-after-decades-of-talk/">cost of the project</a>, but maximizing sale revenues will not create affordable housing.</p>
<p>If the historic displacement of the African Nova Scotian community in Halifax is to be addressed in a genuine way, more substantial measures must be taken with land divestment in Cogswell District.</p>
<p>A targeted housing strategy is needed and must be supported by all orders of government responsible for the interchange debacle in the first place. Without a sincere commitment to these actions, lower-income African Nova Scotian families will continue to struggle with displacement in their city.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/207878/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christine Hempel received funding from MITACS to conduct research on affordable housing. Hempel received funding from Halifax Public Libraries through their Artist-and-Innovator in Residence program to initiate and host community dialogue sessions on a variety of sustainability topics (including the Jane's Walk).</span></em></p>African Nova Scotians have historically suffered the negative consequences of urban redevelopment. New projects in Halifax must involve genuine engagement with racialized communities.Christine Hempel, Post-doctoral researcher, School of Urban and Regional Planning, Toronto Metropolitan UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1973362023-01-19T15:36:42Z2023-01-19T15:36:42ZCurating early Black experiences in Kingston, Canada’s first capital, a city long defined by histories of whiteness<iframe style="width: 100%; height: 100px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" allowtransparency="" allow="clipboard-read; clipboard-write" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/curating-early-black-experiences-in-kingston--canada-s-first-capital--a-city-long-defined-by-histories-of-whiteness" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>Nineteenth century Black history is missing from the mainstream story of Kingston, Ont., but traces of this history in the city’s archives show that it undoubtedly had a Black presence. </p>
<p>Research undertaken for a curatorial collaboration at <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/">Agnes Etherington Art Centre</a> at Queen’s University is attempting to fill this gap.</p>
<h2>Early Black histories</h2>
<p>Kingston is a historical city. Located on Lake Ontario at the apex of the St. Lawrence and Cataraqui Rivers, <a href="https://www.cityofkingston.ca/explore/culture-history/history#">it was Canada’s first legislative capital</a>, and was always an important place for Indigenous gathering. </p>
<p>Today, the city acknowledges it sits on the traditional <a href="https://www.cityofkingston.ca/explore/culture-history/history/indigenous-people">homeland of the Anishinaabe, Haudenosaunee, the Huron-Wendat</a> and is home to a “growing urban population of over 7,000 residents who identify as First Nations, Inuit or Métis.” </p>
<p>At Agnes, <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/digital-agnes/audio-file/meet-emelie-chhangur-director-agnes-etherington-art-centre/">Emelie Chhangur</a>, director and curator, <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/connect/news-and-stories/meet-sebastian-de-line-research-associate-indigenous-art/">Sebastian De Line</a>, associate curator care and relations, and myself, <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/connect/news-and-stories/qanita-lilla/">associate curator, Arts of Africa</a>, are piecing together early Black histories in a place that has long been defined by histories of Canadian whiteness. </p>
<h2>Broader historical reckoning</h2>
<p>Agnes has an art collection of <a href="https://agnes.queensu.ca/">over 17,000 pieces</a>, some of which have complex colonial histories. Today, the museum finds itself at a watershed moment of having to reckon with its past as well as Kingston’s.</p>
<p>At Agnes, Chhangur considers the transformative potential of the art museum, where new <a href="https://www.on-curating.org/issue-52-reader/institutional-inreach-as-a-feminist-curatorial-methodology.html#.Y786Ny_b3s0">collaborative curatorial methods can counteract</a> past colonial practices. These practices include extracting material and knowledge in a colonial way and overlooking people who do not conform to white dominance in society. </p>
<p>Along with my colleagues at Agnes, I see this work as part of a broader historical reckoning already being undertaken by dynamic groups like OPIRG Kingston and Keep Up With Kingston. OPIRG has a mandate of pursuing social justice work critical to the city, seen in <a href="https://opirgkingston.org/php">The People’s History Project</a>. </p>
<p>Networks like <a href="https://keepupwithkingston.com">Keep Up With Kingston</a> engage Black lived experience in the city by spreading news on food, cultural and literary events by Black-run businesses. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1539411271157784579"}"></div></p>
<p>As we at Agnes engage with people who are revitalizing Kingston, the city has become a place where new opportunities for dialogue are rising.</p>
<h2>History as distillation</h2>
<p>Our journey into Black history was precipitated by the artistic work of British-Nigerian artist Zina Saro-Wiwa, who will visit Kingston in March 2023. Saro-Wiwa’s <a href="https://www.theillicitgininstitute.com/about">“Illicit Gin Institute,” is an artistic project which takes up the theme of palm wine spirit (also known as “illicit gin”)</a> to expose deeper and surprising narratives about her place of origin, the Niger Delta. </p>
<p>Her <a href="https://www.theillicitgininstitute.com/assemblies">curated assemblies</a> are public gatherings that are responsive to the places they are situated in. In this way Saro-Wiwa uses gin as a lens through which to undertake multiple artistic investigations. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CiM4Qc4syzF","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>In preparation for the Kingston assembly, curators and the artist are thinking about Black histories as illicit to a city imagined as white. We think of the fermentation process as tied to the land, but we also consider how distillation might be a useful metaphor to rethink collaborative history recovery processes. </p>
<p>The gin distillation process involves <a href="https://www.intechopen.com/chapters/54078">three distinct stages known as</a> a head, heart and tail. The head is from the beginning of the run and contains a high percentage of low boiling point alcohols, the heart is the desirable middle and the tail has the highest percentage of oil — and is discarded. </p>
<p>White supremacist historical narratives have discarded essential and rich elements. Our collaborative curatorial process is about documenting history beginning with cherishing every little relational trace.</p>
<h2>Kingston’s Black histories</h2>
<p>Piecing together Kingston’s Black history has happened mostly through primary archival sources: newspaper articles on microfilm, adverts for businesses, legal petitions, diary entries, old photographs and city maps. </p>
<p>Secondary sources are from online blogs and websites. <a href="https://www.stoneskingston.ca/">Stones Kingston</a> is an archival website, from Queen’s University, that contains a <a href="https://www.stoneskingston.ca/black-history/">thread of local 19th-century Black history</a>. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1488544953563287555"}"></div></p>
<p>Through this portal we found the names of prominent Black business owners in the city: William Johnson, James and Marie Elder and <a href="http://www.stoneskingston.ca/black-history/george-mink-part-two-telegraph-house/">George Mink</a>.</p>
<p>George Mink was a well-known figure in early Kingston. He was a son of enslaved Mink senior who arrived in the city as the “property” of John Herkimer (also known as Johan Jost Herkimer) after the American Revolution. </p>
<h2>Black owned hotels, livery stables</h2>
<p>George Mink owned hotels and livery stables and was also awarded the contract for the stage coach and mail routes from Kingston to Toronto and <a href="https://www.thewhig.com/2014/03/31/wolfe-islands-roots-date-back-to-1675#">across Wolfe Island</a>. He was popular among his peers who nominated him as Alderman in 1850, a position he did not take up.</p>
<p>Many parts of Mink’s story remain untold and the sources are thin. It is unclear what happened to George Mink at the end of his life, because following the establishment of the railroad he lost his coach licenses and died in poverty. </p>
<p>According to a 1952 book <em><a href="https://books.google.ca/books/about/Kingston_the_King_s_Town.html?id=zQUVAAAAYAAJ&redir_esc=y">Kingston, the King’s Town</a></em>, by James A. Roy, who retired from <a href="http://db-archives.library.queensu.ca/index.php/james-alexander-roy-fonds">the Queen’s University literature department in 1950</a>, Mink was laid to rest in an unmarked grave and his body was exhumed by Queen’s medical students. The author relays this as fact, but there are no reliable references to support this.</p>
<p>It is sad that Roy’s mention of George Mink is the only time this prominent Kingston resident appears in a monograph. A more significant piece of writing is a <a href="https://www.digitalkingston.ca/presents-from-the-past/black-history-in-kingston">1998 article</a> in the <a href="https://www.kingstonhistoricalsociety.ca/publications-and-articles">journal <em>Historic Kingston</em></a> written by Rick Neilson and published by the Kingston Historical Society. This article focuses on Mink’s businesses in Kingston but offers no clarity on the end of his life.</p>
<h2>Tobias Mink</h2>
<p>There are no photographs of George Mink, but we have found an 1864 portrait of his nephew, Tobias Mink. </p>
<p>In a photographic studio he sits in a chair holding a bottle of alcohol, wearing a hat and smoking a pipe. His torn clothes speak of a working man. Records state he was a “cartman” and that he did manual labour around town. </p>
<p>We know that Tobias lived at <a href="https://www.lennox-addington.on.ca/sites/default/files/sites/default/files/Traffic%2C%20Roads%20%26%20Bridges/bridges_L%26A.pdf">Minks Bridge in Napanee</a>, 48 kilometres from Kingston — a bridge named after his family — and that he was photographed in Stephen Manson Benson’s photographic studio. In a collection of 385 glass-plate negatives depicting the townspeople, Tobias Mink was the only Black person photographed.</p>
<h2>Lively, visible history</h2>
<p>This curatorial project aims to make this quiet Kingston history lively and visible. </p>
<p>As a curatorial team collaborating with artist Zina Saro-Wiwa, we seek to find networks of solidarity that were not afforded to us in the past. But we also aim to expose the challenges inherent to history writing so long forgotten. </p>
<p>Together we are trying to bring forth and distil local Kingston histories that have been submerged while thinking of new ways of assembling this rich history.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197336/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Qanita Lilla does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A collaborative curatorial project is cherishing every little relational trace of Black lives found in archives in a city long defined by histories of Canadian whiteness.Qanita Lilla, Associate Curator Arts of Africa, Agnes Etherington Art Centre, Queen's University, OntarioLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1923092022-11-30T16:39:59Z2022-11-30T16:39:59ZBeing the ‘only one’ at work and the decades long fight against anti-Black racism<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492192/original/file-20221027-38660-gzhugr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=141%2C141%2C5421%2C3828&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Rodney Diverlus, co-founder of Black Lives Matter Toronto, is seen at a protest in downtown Toronto, July 2020.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source"> THE CANADIAN PRESS/Colin Perkel</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The global call to address systemic racism following the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/31/us/george-floyd-investigation.html">police murder of George Floyd</a> resulted in a push for <a href="https://www.universityaffairs.ca/opinion/policy-and-practice/the-precarious-practice-of-cluster-hiring/">diversity hires</a>.</p>
<p>In Canada, organizations <a href="https://theconversation.com/canadas-corporations-fail-to-meet-the-blacknorth-pledge-and-were-not-surprised-166457">signed pledges</a> and created strategies to <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/canadian-heritage/campaigns/anti-racism-engagement/anti-racism-strategy.html">combat racism and discrimination</a>. I call this moment and the waves of performative actions and <a href="https://theconversation.com/virtue-signalling-a-slur-meant-to-imply-moral-grandstanding-that-might-not-be-all-bad-145546">virtue signaling</a> that ensued, the <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/03063968221083801">Negro-Apocalypse</a>.</p>
<p>Of course, <a href="https://tatp.utoronto.ca/teaching-toolkit/equity-diversity-and-inclusion/representation-matters/">representation matters</a> and <a href="https://www.mckinsey.com/featured-insights/diversity-and-inclusion/diversity-wins-how-inclusion-matters">the business case for diversity is strong</a>. However, <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/kimelsesser/2022/06/20/the-business-case-for-diversity-is-backfiring/?sh=16e490dd351d">recent studies</a> caution that representation without structural changes to office culture, including creating platforms for underrepresented decision-makers, can lead to an “<a href="https://hbr.org/2020/11/getting-serious-about-diversity-enough-already-with-the-business-case">add diversity and stir</a>” approach that is counterproductive.</p>
<p>As institutions continue to push diversity and <a href="https://www.universityaffairs.ca/opinion/policy-and-practice/the-precarious-practice-of-cluster-hiring/">cluster</a> hires, they can reinforce the negativity of <a href="https://business.vanderbilt.edu/news/2018/02/26/tokenism-in-the-workplace/">tokenism</a>: “the practice of doing something …only to prevent criticism and give the appearance that people are being treated fairly.” </p>
<h2>The ‘only ones’</h2>
<p>But strategies, pledges and action plans matter. We need to start somewhere, if not, we will go nowhere. However, we must be cautious if such representation becomes a vehicle to create workplace tokens, or what leading Canadian race scholar Debra Thompson calls the “<a href="https://www.chatelaine.com/living/books/long-road-home-thompson/">only one</a>.”</p>
<p>Institutions seek to control, gaslight and manipulate these “only ones” who are often the singular Black, Indigenous or racialized person in a system designed to exclude and marginalize their existence and self-worth. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="two men sit at a desk talking." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492183/original/file-20221027-1498-no5tiy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Strategies, pledges and action plans matter. We need to start somewhere. However, representation should not become a way of creating workplace tokens.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Unsplash)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The current cohort of <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/03063968221083801">“militant millennials,”</a> who are (re)awakened to Black empowerment, are challenging these institutional behaviours. They are tired of being told to be patient and buy into “<a href="https://www.apa.org/topics/resilience/building-your-resilience">the process of adapting well in the face of adversity, trauma, tragedy, threats or significant sources of stress</a>.” In other words, they are tired of the rhetoric of resilience. </p>
<p>The anti-racism protests in 2020 destabilized our national identity as a “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41674749">post-racial</a> society” in a new way. But of course, these are not new challenges.</p>
<h2>Decades of racist patterns</h2>
<p>Decades earlier, in 1984, <a href="https://utorontopress.com/9781487529178/unsettling-the-great-white-north/">Roy McMurtry</a>, the former Attorney General of Ontario, warned of the dangers of disproportionate unemployment rates for non-white youth. He said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“if thousands of racial minority individuals in this country are given reason to believe that they face perpetual, widespread unemployment and second-class status because of the colour of their skin, very serious social unrest could result.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Unrest due to systemic racism had already occurred in Canada before McMurty’s prediction. For example, in 1969, hundreds of students at Sir George Williams University locked themselves into a room at the university to protest what they called discriminatory grading practices. </p>
<p>According to Rodney John, one of the protesters, nothing improved and the result for student protesters was tragic: <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/the-sir-george-williams-affair-50-years-later-was-it-worth-it-1.5014518">careers were truncated, families were disrupted and students were beaten by the police because students had “the temerity to raise concerns.”</a></p>
<p>On May 4, 1992, <a href="https://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2017/05/05/the-yonge-street-riot-of-1992-or-was-it-an-uprising-paradkar.html">the Yonge Street uprising</a> occurred. It started as a <a href="https://www.thestar.com/news/insight/2013/10/19/black_action_defence_committee_celebrates_25th_anniversary.html">protest against anti-Black racism in policing</a> that was in part spurred by the police murder of Raymond Lawrence, a 22-year-old Black youth from Peel. </p>
<p>It began as a peaceful protest organized by the Black Action Defence Committee, but the <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/activists-reflect-on-30-year-anniversary-yonge-street-uprising-1.6439452">pent up frustration</a> and trauma of centuries of anti-Black racism, acutely felt by Black youth in violent and fatal encounters by the police, led to an outright rebellion in downtown Toronto.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A man raising his arms in the air while seaking into a microphone." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=420&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=527&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=527&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/492188/original/file-20221027-23824-rqavmx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=527&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Dudley Laws, a founding member of the Black Action Defence Committee, speaks to an anti-racism rally at Queen’s Park in Toronto on May 8, 1992 a few days after the Yonge Street uprising.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">The Canadian Press/Hans Deryk</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One of the key legacies of the protest was the creation of the <a href="https://www.siu.on.ca/en/index.php">Special Investigations Unit</a> and the <a href="https://www.siu.on.ca/pdfs/report_of_the_advisor_on_race_relations_to_the_premier_of_ontario_bob_rae.pdf">Report of the Advisor on Race Relations</a>, more commonly known as the Stephen Lewis Report.</p>
<h2>Solutions for all, not for one</h2>
<p>Many of the recent Black-focused initiatives are necessary because of historical, ideological and political Canadian-made fears of Blackness. Yet however tangible these solutions are, they also seem ephemeral and superficial. They mask the foundational root causes of systemic racism and in so doing, they reinforce historical divisions and oppression.</p>
<p>The policy-driven support of multiculturalism in 1971, which followed the official de-racialization of Canadian immigration policy in 1962, did not solve systemic racism. Nor did the implementation of the points-based system in 1967; the Charter of Rights and Freedoms of 1982; the <em>Multiculturalism Act</em> of 1988; or Ontario’s <a href="https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/17a15">Anti-Racism Act</a> of 2017. </p>
<p>These are all examples of governments working towards appeasing Canadian race relations. They were tenants of a neo-liberal and <a href="https://ricochet.media/en/2538/black-people-in-canada-are-not-settlers">settler colonial system</a> that provided the illusion of systemic change that relied on the notion of “Black Excellence” and individual social mobility.</p>
<p>The issues we need to address transcend the individual. We can no longer tell the token “only one” to wait and be resilient. We must turn our focus to the systemic oppression embedded within our institutions and come to grips with historical racism and discrimination. </p>
<p>We must learn from the impotence of performative actions, how legislation and policy were designed to appease and not fix, and collectively decide what kind of society we want to live in.</p>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/99d5e829-34b2-412c-933b-d767d5c45faf?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-572" class="tc-infographic" height="100" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/572/661898416fdc21fc4fdef6a5379efd7cac19d9d5/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/192309/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christopher Stuart Taylor does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>As institutions continue to push diversity and cluster hires, they can reinforce the negativity of tokenism.Christopher Stuart Taylor, Associate Vice-President, Equity, Diversity, and Anti-Racism; Assistant Professor of History, University of WaterlooLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1938492022-11-10T21:28:09Z2022-11-10T21:28:09ZRemembrance Day: Trudeau’s apology to Black servicemen needs to be followed with action<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494751/original/file-20221110-3879-1m8750.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=60%2C78%2C5738%2C3782&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Soldiers salute during the national apology to the No. 2 Construction Battalion in Truro, N.S. on July 9, 2022. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Riley Smith</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>While it’s true that actions do speak louder than words, words do matter — especially when they’re spoken with honesty and sincerity and are the precursor to meaningful action. </p>
<p>This was the prevailing sentiment within Black communities in Canada following <a href="https://pm.gc.ca/en/news/news-releases/2022/07/09/prime-minister-delivers-apology-descendants-no-2-construction">Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s apology in July 2022</a> to the descendants of the Black men who served with the <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/no-2-construction-battalion">No. 2 Construction Battalion</a> during the First World War. </p>
<p>The No. 2 Battalion sailed for Europe from Halifax in March 1917. The No. 2 totalled 614 men, far fewer than the roughly 1,000 that usually make up a battalion. </p>
<p>It was the only battalion-sized segregated unit in the <a href="https://www.warmuseum.ca/firstworldwar/history/life-at-the-front/military-structure/the-canadian-expeditionary-force/">Canadian Expeditionary Force (CEF)</a> and it existed because commanding officers routinely and callously rejected Black men who wanted to fight for the country. </p>
<p>As letters, memos and other military records archived from the war years indicate, commanding officers and white recruits felt that the conflict was a <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/6147380/black-canadians-soldiers-world-war-racism/">white man’s war</a>. Anti-Black racism also led many to believe that Black men were not fighting material. </p>
<p>In one instance, a major-general who served as Canada’s Chief of the General Staff confidently declared that in the trenches “the civilized negro” was “not likely to make a good fighter.” </p>
<p>Those attitudes prevailed even after surviving members of the battalion returned to Canada. Historical records reveal that the men did not even receive the public expressions of thanks extended to other returnees. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An elderly man in military uniform holds a black and white photo of a younger man also in uniform" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494748/original/file-20221110-14-1mf3u3.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Peter Richards holds a picture of battalion member Percy James Richards during the national apology to the No. 2 Construction Battalion in Truro, N.S. on July 9, 2022.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Riley Smith</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A first step</h2>
<p>Although there are those who have criticized Trudeau for <a href="https://www.wsj.com/articles/the-national-apology-advisory-committee-canada-justin-trudeau-armed-forces-systemic-racism-discrimination-11657656307">“weaken[ing]the currency of national apologies by issuing so many,”</a> many Black Canadians were glad that he gave it. </p>
<p>His apology did not shy away from naming racism and anti-Black hate as the reason for the horrific treatment of the No. 2 men. It acknowledged that racism and anti-Black hate are still a problem <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/8784238/canadian-forces-systemic-racism-repulsing-new-recruits/">in the Canadian military and elsewhere</a>. </p>
<p>The apology directly linked the anti-Black racism experienced by the men of the No. 2 Construction Battalion to the widespread systemic racism in the Canadian Armed Forces (CAF) today. <a href="https://pm.gc.ca/en/news/speeches/2022/07/09/prime-ministers-remarks-apologize-descendants-no-2-construction-battalion">Trudeau committed his government and the military to effecting</a> “meaningful change, where the dignity of all service members in the Canadian Armed Forces is upheld. Where everyone is welcome; where everyone can rise through the ranks; where everyone has opportunities to distinguish themselves.” </p>
<p>Exactly how these outcomes will be achieved remains to be seen. In 2016, <a href="https://www.stewartmckelvey.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/StatementofClaim_as_issued_ForcesClassAction.pdf">a class-action claim</a> filed on behalf of Black and other racialized personnel detailed the trauma and career consequences many have experienced due to unchecked racism in the CAF, including being silenced when they step forward with complaints and having their careers cut short. </p>
<p>At the apology ceremony, <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/department-national-defence/news/2022/07/apology-by-minister-of-national-defence-anita-anand-to-the-descendants-of-no-2-construction-battalion.html">Defence Minister Anita Anand said</a> she’s “committed to eliminating systemic racism so that the discrimination faced by the Number 2 Construction Battalion and those who followed never happens again.” She added that the Department of Defense must “begin working on [the National Apology Advisory Committee’s] recommendations now.” </p>
<p>“Now” is the operative word, and meaningful change will depend on the government and Armed Forces following through with that promise.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A white man in a dark suit shakes hands with an elderly black man wearing a shirt and tie and military cap." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494750/original/file-20221110-16-5jyhv4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Prime Minister Justin Trudeau speaks with a descendant during the national apology to the No. 2 Construction Battalion in Truro, N.S. on July 9, 2022.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Riley Smith</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A path forward</h2>
<p>Of course, the fact that the apology was made in 2022 is an indication that federal apologies like this one are not all about altruism and moral conscience but are in large part the result of pressure (sometimes decades-long) from communities.</p>
<p>So the point is not lost on some observers that the intent to apologize, <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/department-national-defence/news/2021/03/government-of-canada-planning-apology-to-the-no-2-construction-battalion.html">announced on March 28, 2021</a>, came in the aftermath of the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/article/george-floyd-protests-timeline.html">police killing of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests that followed</a>.</p>
<p>Despite sneers against critical race theory from certain political factions and the constant drumbeat against political correctness and <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/ron-desantis-florida-where-woke-goes-to-die-midterm-election-win/">being “woke,”</a> there has been a noticeable shift toward a better understanding of anti-Black racism and the various insidious and overt forms that it takes. </p>
<p>This is our zeitgeist. There’s a sense within Black communities that Black people’s moment, though it’s not here quite yet, is closer on the horizon and the prime minister’s apology has aligned with the times.</p>
<p>But things cannot start and end with the apology. If the prime minister and his government are truly committed to meaningful change, then Black communities need to see words followed up by action. </p>
<p>The government and military need to respond seriously to the <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/army/services/events/2-construction-battalion/apology-advisory.html#recommendations">key recommendations</a> put forward by the National Apology Advisory Committee that require post-apology action. They must also work with Black communities and the CAF to implement initiatives that bring about the changes that Black people themselves would like to see. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A series of small green flags with an emblem, names and No.2 Construction Battalion written on them." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/494762/original/file-20221110-13-ju3g6k.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Flags on display at the national apology to the No. 2 Construction Battalion.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Riley Smith</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At the July apology ceremony, it was announced that the venue in Truro, N.S., where the event took place — and where the No. 2 performed training exercises — <a href="https://www.saltwire.com/atlantic-canada/news/we-are-sorry-trudeau-delivers-apology-in-truro-to-no-2-construction-battalion-and-descendants-100751798/">would be renamed in honour of the battalion</a>. </p>
<p>But post-apology actions need to go beyond simply honoring and commemorating. They need to be <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/nova-scotia/reparations-no-2-battalion-federal-apology-1.6512240">truly reparative</a>.</p>
<p>Justice Minister David Lametti recently announced that the government will <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/department-justice/news/2022/11/minister-lametti-to-make-a-funding-announcement0.html">provide funding</a> for a <a href="https://www.blacklegalactioncentre.ca/">Black Legal Action Centre</a> project that “addresses the over-representation of individuals from Black communities in the criminal justice system in Toronto.” </p>
<p>A day earlier, the Toronto International Film Festival announced its decision to <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/nova-scotia/tiff-rename-cinema-viola-desmond-1.6644256">rename its largest cinema after civil rights activist Viola Desmond</a> and also pledged to <a href="https://atlantic.ctvnews.ca/toronto-international-film-festival-renames-cinema-for-activist-viola-desmond-1.6145404">“raise $2 million over the next five years to provide support to Black women creators [and] develop programming for Black audiences.”</a> </p>
<p>Both provide good reparative models. They aim to simultaneously educate and redress. Whether post-apology actions are targeted exclusively at the descendants of the No. 2 Battalion and Black men who served in the First World War or all personnel who have experienced racism, their effectiveness should be measured by how well they correct misleading narratives about Black military service in Canada.</p>
<p>They should also examine how well the related funding and initiatives ameliorate the anti-Black racism experienced by target groups.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/193849/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Hyacinth Simpson has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. </span></em></p>Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s apology to Black soldiers who served in the First World War was a good first step, but real action is needed to address racism in the Canadian Armed Forces.Hyacinth Simpson, Associate Professor, Department of English and Dimensions Faculty Chair, Faculty of Arts, Toronto Metropolitan UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1881892022-08-21T13:09:25Z2022-08-21T13:09:25ZIf I could change one thing in education: Community-school partnerships would be top priority<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479730/original/file-20220817-8128-s4twhd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=5%2C22%2C3529%2C1856&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Parent council meetings' need a name change to represent the wider spectrum of families and kinship invested in children and youth. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Students thrive in environments where they are seen and valued as contributing members of classroom communities. </p>
<p>A major aspect of social development in education is <a href="https://www.edutopia.org/blog/creating-an-identity-safe-classroom-becki-cohn-vargas-dorothy-steele">students’ identity formation</a>. At a very early age, students are asked <a href="https://www.dcp.edu.gov.on.ca/en/program-planning/considerations-for-program-planning/instructional-approaches">to make connections between</a> what they are learning, their lives and the world around them.</p>
<p>This is about more than just their sense of self. In classrooms, they seek to foster a <a href="http://studentexperiencenetwork.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/Structures-for-Belonging.pdf">sense of belonging</a> and acceptance within their school and community, and learn how to negotiate their place in society. </p>
<p>But what happens when learners <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-curb-anti-black-racism-in-canadian-schools-150489">don’t see themselves reflected in what is being taught or don’t feel a sense of belonging</a>? Very early on, there is disengagement and disconnection. Both can have a lasting negative impact on student achievement and well-being. </p>
<p>I am a researcher focused on African, Afro-Caribbean and Black youth and families’ schooling experiences. If I could do one thing to change elementary education in Canada, I would appeal to school staff to understand the importance of the school-family-community partnership to improve the outcomes of all students. </p>
<h2>Go together</h2>
<p>There is an African proverb that states <a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2016/07/30/487925796/it-takes-a-village-to-determine-the-origins-of-an-african-proverb">if you want to go fast, go alone and if you want to go far, go together</a>. How a community, including a school community, prioritizes the needs of students is critical for their success. </p>
<p>When schools, families, and communities work together as partners, students benefit. <a href="http://dropoutprevention.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Family_Involvement_Makes_a_Difference_20100914.pdf">The benefits</a> include safer school environments, strengthening parenting skills, encouraging community service, improving academic skills and achieving other desired goals that benefit students.</p>
<p>So, how do we do this partnership? </p>
<h2>Learn</h2>
<p>As the late cultural theorist and educator bell hooks tells us:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“When teachers teach with love, combining care, commitment, knowledge, responsibility, respect and trust, we are often <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Teaching-Community-A-Pedagogy-of-Hope/hooks/p/book/9780415968188">able to enter the classroom and go straight to the heart of the matter</a>, which is knowing what to do on any given day to create the best climate for learning.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Teachers are also learners. How effectively they learn is deeply influenced by everyday interactions between their students and themselves. </p>
<p>By taking time to learn about the students in classrooms, teachers gain a greater sense of students’ strengths and areas of need. It also means identifying any barriers that may hinder learning and participation. </p>
<p>Teachers have the opportunity to find out students’ interests, what excites them, and what is important to them and their families. <a href="https://www.edutopia.org/article/3-keys-evolving-lifelong-learner">Teachers who are lifelong learners</a> understand that <a href="https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED569110.pdf">family and community are critical</a> for the growth and development of students. </p>
<h2>Affirm student identities</h2>
<p><a href="https://etfovoice.ca/feature/culturally-relevant-and-responsive-pedagogy-early-years-its-never-too-early">Culturally relevant and responsive teaching</a> provides the framework to build learning environments that are inclusive and honour the lived experiences of learners and their families. </p>
<p>The idea of an inclusive education begins with affirming students’ identity <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-is-intersectionality-all-of-who-i-am-105639">and intersectionalities</a> — the whole of who they are and all facets of their lives. It centres on being concerned with what and how students learn. This simple yet transformative approach can help teachers rethink engaging students. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Students standing and waiting for a bus outside." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479742/original/file-20220817-26-k2bynl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Teachers have the opportunity to find out what excites students, and what is important to them and their families.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Brittainy Newman)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Knowledge holders are out there</h2>
<p>All families and communities are filled with resources and knowledge holders who could support classroom learning.</p>
<p>Their contributions not only build school capacity but respond to the needs of students — especially families of Black, Indigenous and racialized students. Schools can do this by establishing rapport, integrating families’ interests into the classroom and the curriculum <a href="https://teaching.betterlesson.com/strategy/146/creating-and-implementing-a-family-partnership-plan">and then taking action with them to solve problems together</a>. </p>
<p>When teachers and school staff consider the “family” as participants in a child’s education, they must think about how definitions of family vary across time and cultural contexts. This includes recognizing caregivers such as siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even community members as kin who often step in to care for children. </p>
<h2>Building relationships</h2>
<p>Families want to be involved and partner with school staff to ensure success for children and youth. That requires reciprocity and teachers co-ordinating relationships to build a bridge between home and school cultures. Developing such a relationship relies on interdependence, understanding and shared decision-making.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.panoramaed.com/blog/5-family-engagement-strategies">Collaborations with families</a> — especially people that are frequently positioned as passive or absent — will foster supportive and trusting relationships.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Two moms seen at a table with their little boy." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/479880/original/file-20220818-342-9bmlln.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Engaging families only in one way assumes a limited picture of their realities.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Reduce the barriers</h2>
<p>Families do not show up in schools the same way. Engaging them only in one way assumes a limited picture of their realities. For example, <a href="https://www.edcan.ca/articles/overcoming-barriers/">2SLGBTQ+ families</a> and <a href="https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ1238333.pdf">newcomers</a> encounter barriers and discrimination. </p>
<p>How might schools make “parent council meetings” more accessible and inclusive?
Start with a name change to make these more inclusive to represent the wider spectrum of families and kinship in real-world communities. </p>
<p>Such spaces are where community members might gain a deeper understanding of what is happening within the school. Yet “parent council” meetings are often poorly attended, for various reasons — time, lack of child care, limited <a href="https://kappanonline.org/race-power-minority-parent-participation-lee/">connection to the school community, dealing with racism and discrimination, and so on</a>. </p>
<h2>Invest in outreach</h2>
<p>Learn what days, times, and methods of communication are preferred. The pandemic opened our eyes to many possibilities and creative ways to communicate. Learn what strategies work best. Schools should be willing to change. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/5-ways-school-boards-can-address-racial-injustice-181994">5 ways school boards can address racial injustice</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Ask questions and actively listen. Discuss values and develop an understanding of how experiences of racism, power and classism play out in a school setting and affect communication and interaction. </p>
<p>To get a better understanding of the school climate and the concerns of families and students, schools or boards must offer opportunities for people to share their ideas. As an example, how could <a href="https://www.waldenu.edu/online-doctoral-programs/doctor-of-education/resource/using-surveys-to-increase-parent-involvement">surveys</a>, information materials available in multiple languages and mediums and even <a href="https://steinhardt.nyu.edu/metrocenter/ejroc/services/culturally-responsive-curriculum-scorecards">a commitment to auditing curricula</a> interrogate what is maintained as normative culture in our schools?</p>
<p>Oftentimes, there is a lack of a shared vision on how to support students. But there is a greater impact on the family as a whole when family are seen as important partners in supporting the overall development of their child. </p>
<p><em>Arianna Lambert, a passionate elementary school teacher and educator, co-authored this article.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188189/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tanitiã Munroe does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>As a researcher focussed on African, Afro-Caribbean and Black families’ schooling experiences, I appeal to school staff to understand the importance of the school-family-community partnership.Tanitiã Munroe, PhD candidate and researcher, Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1803832022-04-05T20:27:09Z2022-04-05T20:27:09ZFailure to include Black communities in health policy public engagement perpetuates health disparities<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455728/original/file-20220401-27172-hsk71w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=243%2C657%2C4304%2C2863&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Not engaging Black communities meaningfully in health and other policy-making processes has been a critical failure, reflecting a history of systemic racism, marginalization and political indifference.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Nappy.co)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>It is time for us to accept that policy failure and lack of community engagement in policy decision-making go hand-in-hand. The fact that the communities with the worst health outcomes are also the communities least likely to be meaningfully engaged in health policy decision-making should not be a surprise.</p>
<p>As it stands, a growing body of evidence suggests that while many decision-making bodies proclaim publicly that they <a href="http://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/">want input from racialized and other marginalized communities</a>, many institutions are not willing to listen to, accept or integrate what those communities have to say.</p>
<p>Broad systemic problems <a href="https://rsc-src.ca/en/covid-19/impact-covid-19-in-racialized-communities/covid-19-systemic-racism-racialization-and-lives">caused by longstanding exclusion and privilege</a> are increasingly being acknowledged as overdue for correction. However, these complex issues are far too often <a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/blog/unpacking-the-public-in-public-engagement-in-search-of-black-communities">papered over with helpful-sounding but empty rhetoric and symbolic and performative gestures of inclusion</a>.</p>
<p>Over time, more and more people are coming to acknowledge that proclaiming to be inclusive while not actually doing substantive work is simply another tactic for preserving the status quo.</p>
<h2>Health-care disparities</h2>
<p><a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/research">Our research</a>, as part of the <a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/">Public Engagement in Health Policy</a> team, examines two key things: </p>
<ol>
<li><p>How, and to what extent, Black communities have been traditionally engaged in health policymaking; and, </p></li>
<li><p>How, through creating their own health-focused solutions and interventions, Black communities’ self-advocacy and mobilization can provide great insight into persistent health system and policy gaps, and what potential solutions can look like.</p></li>
</ol>
<p>In health-care systems, measurable outcomes such as disease prevalence and outcomes and indicators of trust in medical systems show that the system has chronically failed Black communities and is long overdue for systemic change.</p>
<p>The pandemic made these cracks painfully clear and very difficult to ignore.</p>
<p>Black communities in Canada and the United States are at <a href="https://www.academia.edu/43122798/COVID_19_and_the_Black_and_African_Diaspora">higher risk for contracting COVID-19</a>, have been dying at disproportionate and alarming rates, and suffer greater negative economic impacts.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A health-care worker in PPE about to swab a patient's throat" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455493/original/file-20220331-17-uqp83w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=485&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Black communities in Canada and the United States are at higher risk for contracting COVID-19 and have been dying at disproportionate and alarming rates.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We have known for some time that <a href="https://www.who.int/health-topics/social-determinants-of-health#tab=tab_1">social determinants such as race, social class, education and environment</a> influence health outcomes in both everyday and emergency situations.</p>
<p>Resolving the all-too-abundant disparities demands making room to hear from the people who aren’t getting the health care they need, but that isn’t happening enough, and when it does, it clearly isn’t having the necessary effect.</p>
<p>A recent review of <a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/blog/looking-back-on-20-years-of-public-engagement">government-initiated public and patient engagement activities in health policy from 2001-21</a> showed that only 14 per cent of 132 cases even mentioned prioritizing or engaging with marginalized populations.</p>
<p>All this raises the question, who really is “the public” in public engagement — and how legitimate and effective can such processes be when there are such critical gaps in representation and voice?</p>
<p>In response to this question, some scholars have argued that activities engaging the public in creating health policy are often merely performative “<a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/17448689.2016.1213505">spectacles of public participation</a>.”</p>
<p>They are prone to <a href="https://publications.gc.ca/site/archivee-archived.html?url=https://publications.gc.ca/collections/collection_2012/ccs-hcc/H174-33-2006-eng.pdf">political interference, are often inadequately resourced and can result in unfulfilled expectations</a>. They can also be self-selecting and deliberately <a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/blog/looking-back-on-20-years-of-public-engagement">designed to make inclusive engagement difficult</a>.</p>
<p>Critical scholars have also pointed to <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177%2F00953997211034137">processes that favour amenable, acquiescent perspectives that do not disrupt the status quo</a>, while devaluing, co-opting and delegitimizing dissenting and critical voices.</p>
<h2>Critical questions</h2>
<p>If we are prepared to reckon with why this is happening, there are some critical questions we should be asking as researchers, health-care providers, activists and policy-makers.</p>
<p>What do we think we know about the needs and desires of Black communities in Canada as it relates to their health, and where does this knowledge come from? How have we historically engaged Black communities in health policy-making in Canada? To what extent are Black communities actually represented in the public engagement processes we speak about? Are we even evaluating which communities our public engagement processes actually engage?</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Three people sitting at a table with laptops; two are watching the third as she speaks" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455731/original/file-20220401-25-p69x6g.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some scholars have argued that activities engaging the public in creating health policy are often merely performative ‘spectacles of public participation.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Nappy.co)</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>What challenges have we encountered when attempting to engage Black communities in these processes, and to what do we attribute these challenges?</p>
<p>Why are we not more alarmed by the disparities in outcomes for Black and other marginalized communities during COVID-19 and more broadly?</p>
<p>These are not technical issues but existential questions about the efficacy of our health systems and policies, and who these systems are traditionally designed to serve.</p>
<p>Finally, while there is vital “grey” or non-academic data captured by practitioners and community organizations (such as white papers, research reports, governmental publications, and policy, organizational and institutional analyses), it is essential that the health needs and experiences of Black communities in Canada be studied rigorously and ethically and reflected in academic literature.</p>
<p>It is therefore <a href="https://spon.ca/how-canadas-racial-data-gaps-can-be-hazardous-to-your-health/2019/02/07/comment-page-1/">critical that we continue to advocate</a> for the <a href="https://www.wellesleyinstitute.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/Tracking-COVID-19-Through-Race-Based-Data_eng.pdf">collection of race-based health data across Canada</a> to strengthen <a href="https://www.broadbentinstitute.ca/addressing_economic_racism_in_canada_s_pandemic_response_and_recovery">health-equity discussions and policy reform</a>.</p>
<h2>Veneer of action</h2>
<p>One of the profound impacts of the Black Lives Matter movement, particularly following the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, has been growing exasperation with the ways <a href="https://rsc-src.ca/en/covid-19/covid-19-pandemic-histories-inequities-unveiled-impact-black-communities">politicians and institutions often feign ignorance</a> about the <a href="https://rsc-src.ca/en/covid-19/impact-covid-19-in-racialized-communities/black-immigrants-oscillating-between-covid-19-and">systemic barriers and forms of violence</a> Black communities have long faced in their daily lives.</p>
<p>Symbolic acts of anti-racism that present a veneer of action rather than substantive structural change only add insult to injury. For example, when engaging marginalized communities, <a href="https://www.engagementinhealthpolicy.ca/blog/unpacking-the-public-in-public-engagement-in-search-of-black-communities">recruiting methods often favoured privileged populations</a>, and one-off methods such as surveys were common, rather than substantively engaging marginalized communities in problem-solving. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A man with his hands in the air speaking to others" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/455945/original/file-20220403-14-1lkj64.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">It is essential that the health needs and experiences of Black communities in Canada be studied rigorously and ethically and reflected in academic literature.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>While we continue to pursue more research, we need simultaneous and courageous conversations at policy tables that begin with a radical new level of honesty.</p>
<p>This means acknowledging that not engaging Black communities meaningfully in health and other policy-making processes has been a critical failure, reflecting a history of systemic racism, marginalization, and political indifference. It needs to be tackled with focus, humility, intentionality, and imagination.</p>
<p>In other words, what got us here won’t get us there.</p>
<p>We also need to understand that Black communities are not sitting by idly in a burning house waiting to be engaged. They are often out there, <a href="https://blackhealthalliance.ca/covid-19/">self-mobilizing</a>, developing <a href="https://www.instagram.com/eriethiocovid/?hl=en">systems of mutual aid</a>, building <a href="https://www.taibuchc.ca/en/">sophisticated community infrastructure</a> and <a href="https://blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca/about/">making their voices and demands heard</a>. This work should be visible, lauded and properly resourced — not sidelined.</p>
<p>All forms of consultation and decision-making require openness to diverse views, which means shifting away from the top-down approaches governments have traditionally employed in forming health policy.</p>
<p>To be truly transformative, public engagement in health policy <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111%2Fj.1467-9248.2006.00612.x">must reflect the agency, diversity, and interconnectivity of all communities</a>.</p>
<p>With that said, if we begin any of this work without Black and other underserved communities leading these discussions, we have missed the point entirely.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/180383/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>This essay was prepared by members of the Public Engagement in Health Policy team, which is funded and supported by the Future of Canada Project at McMaster University. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rhonda C. George does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>While policy organizations publicly claim that they want input from racialized and other marginalized communities, many fail to listen to, accept or integrate what those communities have to say.Alpha Abebe, Assistant Professor, Faculty of Humanities, McMaster UniversityRhonda C. George, Researcher, Faculty of Humanities, McMaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1628392021-07-08T18:43:22Z2021-07-08T18:43:22ZEnvironmental racism: New study investigates whether Nova Scotia dump boosted cancer rates in nearby Black community<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410211/original/file-20210707-19-1sljla2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=25%2C32%2C4243%2C2805&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Environmentally dangerous dumps, landfills and pulp and paper mills are more likely to be sited in African Nova Scotian and Mi'kmaw communities. These communities suffer from high rates of cancer and respiratory illness.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the 1940s, the town of Shelburne, N.S., became home to a new garbage dump. Residential, industrial and medical waste from throughout eastern Shelburne County <a href="https://www.saltwire.com/atlantic-canada/communities/southwest-nova-scotia/former-shelburne-town-dumpsite-a-ticking-timebomb-in-the-black-community-says-seed-100587217/">was burned at the dump</a> over the decades, leaving nearby residents concerned about health issues. </p>
<p>The dump was situated uphill from the African Nova Scotian South End community, whose roots date back to the <a href="https://novascotia.ca/museum/blackloyalists/communities.htm">settlement of Black Loyalists who were evacuated from the United States after the Revolutionary War of 1776</a>. Those near the dump worked, played and lived amid constant smells and smoke from burning garbage. The dump operated for 75 years, closing in 2016.</p>
<p>The placement of this dump was an act of what we now refer to as environmental racism — the disproportionate siting of polluting industries and other environmentally hazardous projects in Indigenous, Black and other marginalized communities.</p>
<p>Questions about the high rates of cancer — and deaths — among members of Shelburne’s African Nova Scotian community, compared to their white neighbours on the other side of town or even within the South End, have <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/thecurrent/features/facing-race/a-community-of-widows-how-african-nova-scotians-are-confronting-a-history-of-environmental-racism-1.4497952">long simmered</a>. We, along with our colleagues, are embarking on a major research project to determine whether the legacy of the dump may be even more sinister than people knew at the time.</p>
<h2>Community-based research on environmental racism</h2>
<p>Much of the motivation for the study comes from the work of local activist Louise Delisle, who has gone door-to-door in her community to catalogue cases of cancer, both recent and historical. </p>
<p>Previous and ongoing research and advocacy conducted through the Environmental Noxiousness, Racial Inequities & Community Health Project (<a href="https://www.enrichproject.org">the ENRICH Project</a>), data in the book <em><a href="https://fernwoodpublishing.ca/book/there8217s-something-in-the-water">There’s Something in the Water: Environmental Racism in Indigenous & Black Communities</a></em> and experiences of environmental racism shared by Nova Scotian community members in the <a href="https://www.netflix.com/ca/title/81206890">Netflix documentary of the same name</a>, confirm the necessity for such an investigation. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Map showing communities and toxic facilities in Nova Scotia" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=385&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=385&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=385&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=484&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=484&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/410205/original/file-20210707-27-1ypevgb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=484&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Locations of African Nova Scotian communities, First Nations communities and toxic facilities in Nova Scotia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.enrichproject.org/map/">(ENRICH Project)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The data collected by the ENRICH Project over the years indicate that environmentally dangerous projects like dumps, landfills and pulp and paper mills are more likely to be sited in African Nova Scotian and Mi'kmaw communities, and that these communities suffer from high rates of cancer and respiratory illness.</p>
<p>Momentum to address environmental racism is also growing. A federal private member’s bill introduced by Nova Scotia MP Lenore Zann, the <a href="https://www.parl.ca/DocumentViewer/en/43-1/bill/C-230/first-reading">National Strategy to Redress Environmental Racism</a>, passed second reading on March 24, 2021. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/bill-c-230-marks-an-important-first-step-in-addressing-environmental-racism-in-canada-158686">Bill C-230 marks an important first step in addressing environmental racism in Canada</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Bill C-230 returned to the federal Standing Committee on Environment and Sustainable Development on June 21 for amendments, where it was approved a few days later. It will move to third reading in the fall of 2021, and then to the Senate, after which it may become Canada’s first legislation to address environmental racism. </p>
<h2>Many factors influence cancer</h2>
<p>As many factors can influence the incidence of cancer within a population, we’ll oversee a team spanning several research disciplines, with McMaster University serving as the hub and significant representation from Dalhousie University, co-ordinated by cancer biologist Paola Marignani.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nKhIYFDnCoY?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">‘There’s Something in the Water’ official trailer.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Environmental chemical exposures, such as polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), can interact with biological and genetic factors, as well as <a href="https://www.cpha.ca/what-are-social-determinants-health">social determinants of health</a>, such as <a href="https://research2reality.com/health-medicine/health-data-black-canadian-women-cancer-risks/">access to health care, race, gender and income</a>, and lifestyle factors, such as diet, physical activity and smoking. </p>
<p>Our team will probe the contents of the dump to identify harmful materials such as heavy metals, volatile organic compounds and fine particulate matter, and we will examine genetic and epigenetic changes to the genomes of Shelburne residents that may explain cancer susceptibility. </p>
<p>We will also examine the extent to which <a href="https://www.canada.ca/content/dam/phac-aspc/documents/services/health-promotion/population-health/what-determines-health/social-determinants-inequities-black-canadians-snapshot/health-inequities-black-canadians.pdf">race</a>, <a href="http://pressroom.cancer.org/SocialDeterminants2019">gender, income</a> and other <a href="https://familyreach.org/blog/how-do-social-determinants-of-health-affect-cancer-patients/">social determinants of health contribute to cancer and premature death</a>. The role of diet, exercise, smoking and other <a href="https://www.pennmedicine.org/cancer/navigating-cancer-care/risks-and-prevention/lifestyle-risk-factors">lifestyle factors</a> in cancer incidence in Shelburne will also be studied given that <a href="https://www.healthlinkbc.ca/health-topics/abj7482">existing studies indicate that these factors can increase our likelihood of getting cancer</a>. </p>
<h2>Cancer in Black communities</h2>
<p>The study is multidisciplinary and complex. Yet we are confident it will help clarify the complex interactions between the social determinants of health, lifestyle factors, genetics and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4419-9967-2_11">generational impact of chronic toxin exposure</a>. It will also shed light on what is driving high cancer rates in South End Shelburne. </p>
<p>Our study will not just have value for the small community of Shelburne but will provide a template for further studies on the relationship between environmental racism and chronic diseases. For example, the African Nova Scotian community in <a href="https://halifaxmag.com/cityscape/17948/">Lincolnville, N.S.</a>, Indigenous communities such as <a href="https://thenarwhal.ca/covid-19-environmental-racism-canada/">Wet'suwet'en First Nation in northern B.C.</a>, and <a href="https://anishinabeknews.ca/2021/07/02/new-environmental-study-underway-this-summer-in-aamjiwnaang-first-nation/">Aamjiwnaang First Nation near Sarnia, Ont.</a>, as well as African Americans living near <a href="https://www.propublica.org/article/welcome-to-cancer-alley-where-toxic-air-is-about-to-get-worse">Cancer Alley in Louisiana</a>, who all live close to landfills, pipelines and petrochemical facilities, could all benefit from a similar multidisciplinary approach. </p>
<p>This study, and others like it, will bring us one step closer to addressing the wider problem of systemic racism in Canada.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/162839/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ingrid Waldron receives funding from New Frontiers in Research Fund, CIHR, and SSHRC</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Juliet Daniel receives funding from CIHR, NSERC and New Frontiers Research Fund (NFRF).</span></em></p>Black residents of Shelburne, N.S., spent decades living near a dump, worrying about its possible connection to elevated cancer rates. A new study will investigate the dump’s long-term consequences.Ingrid Waldron, Professor, Faculty of Humanities, HOPE Chair in Peace & Health, McMaster UniversityJuliet Daniel, Professor, Department of Biology, McMaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1444012021-04-04T12:00:46Z2021-04-04T12:00:46ZAfua Cooper: My 30-year effort to bring Black studies to Canadian universities is still an upward battle<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/391160/original/file-20210323-15-bpgq0e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=43%2C0%2C4750%2C3837&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Adding Black studies to university curricula in Canada has been an upward battle.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Since my time as a graduate student to my present appointment as professor at Dalhousie University, I have been involved with championing and developing Black studies in universities and beyond.</p>
<p>Previously, within Canadian universities, not many scholars who work in creating knowledge about Black people called it Black studies. For many, “Black studies” was something that happened in the United States. In the 1990s, as a doctoral student conducting research <a href="https://doi.org/10.7202/1065793ar">in Black Canadian history</a>, I developed and taught courses that consciously used the terms “Black” or “African Canadian.” Such courses included “African Canadian History,” “Black Ontario” and “Black Feminist history.”</p>
<p>As a result, I have come face-to-face in dealing with the resistance to implementing Black studies, and the pitfalls involved in the process.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/tv/CB6K2bNjXo0","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<h2>Classroom encounters</h2>
<p>I learned very early on that teaching Black and African Canadian history was dangerous. During my doctoral years at the University of Toronto, I taught a course called “400 years of African Canadian history.” It was the late ‘90s, and during the third class of the semester, in the middle of my lecture, a white man, who always sat in the front row of the class suddenly got up and began abusing me with the n-word. He then proceeded to lambast all immigrants as people ruining the country, and that we “all should go back to where we came from.”</p>
<p>It was one of those moments where time stood still. I marked the man’s distance from me, and checked to see if he had a weapon. The students reacted immediately. Several surrounded the man, and campus police were called. The racist was escorted from the building and the police took our statements. We were all shaken. I was escorted to my car by a security officer, who informed me that the matter would be reported to the Toronto Police.</p>
<p>The university’s response was to change the location of the class twice during the rest of the semester. Students and professor were not notified of the new location until a day or so before class, and by telephone. For the rest of the term, a plainclothes undercover Black policeman sat in my class. At the end of each class, he escorted me to my car, checked the car and the trunk, and he would leave once I got in the vehicle, locked the doors and drove off. If I took the train or bus, he would ride with me for at least two stops. </p>
<p>The student who attacked me was never charged. But what was it that made him pay tuition to register and attend classes, only to respond in such a way?</p>
<p>That wasn’t the only time I received a hateful response: Another semester when I offered the same course, I received hate mail in my campus mailbox. The letters were filled with racist diatribe from anonymous senders who were upset that the university was offering Black history.</p>
<h2>Introducing Black studies</h2>
<p>As a doctoral student, I was told by a senior academic that, “Black history was not at the cutting edge of Canadian social history.” Another senior male historian told me that I was wasting my time in pursuing Black Canadian history because there were very “few” Black people living in Canada during the time period I was focusing on. I mentioned to him that only a few people relative to the population were involved in the Upper Canadian Rebellion and yet volumes upon volumes have been written on this topic. The response of these two senior scholars to my attempt to research and write Black history was emblematic of that of the department as a whole.</p>
<p>After completing my PhD with a focus on Black Canadian history, I later taught Caribbean history and studies at Ryerson University, where I helped set up <a href="https://jis.gov.jm/toronto-launch-of-visiting-with-miss-lou/">the Caribbean Research Centre</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="book cover of THE HANGING OF ANGELIQUE" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=879&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=879&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=879&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1105&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1105&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392864/original/file-20210331-19-z6t4b8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1105&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘The Hanging of Angélique’ examines slavery in Canada through the trial of an enslaved woman in 16th-century Montréal. Cooper’s seventh book is a historical investigation of slavery in Canada.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://ugapress.org/book/9780820329406/the-hanging-of-angelique/">(University of Georgia Press)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>I did additional tenures at Simon Fraser University, York University and the University of Toronto. At these places, I taught, created and designed new courses on women’s studies and Black history and studies. I thought deeply about <a href="http://www.sfu.ca/%7Ewsweb/documents/RWWPFinalReport-AfuaCooper.pdf">how to bring Black studies into the universities</a>, while being keenly aware that Black history, for example, was viewed as an important and legitimate branch of scholarly inquiry.</p>
<p>In 2009, I chaired an international meeting of Black studies scholars — historians, community activists, artists, students and workers — in a conference called “Knowledge Production and the Black Experience.” One outcome of this conference was <a href="https://www.africancanadianstudies.com/about">the establishment of the Black Canadian Studies Association (BCSA)</a>, which has served as a site of Black studies mobilization within and beyond Canada. </p>
<p>In 2011, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/afua-cooper-james-r-johnston-chair-in-black-canadian-studies-1.3423853">I received the James R. Johnston Chair in Black Canadian Studies at Dalhousie University</a>, the only named Black studies chair in Canada. There, I threw myself into knowledge mobilization: teaching, researching, designing and developing new courses, community outreach and establishing a new research agenda with a focus on slavery and freedom. I led efforts to investigate Dalhousie’s relationship to slavery and race, the findings which were published as a report, “<a href="https://www.dal.ca/dept/ldp.html">Lord Dalhousie’s History on Slavery and Race</a>.”</p>
<p>I eventually established a minor in <a href="https://www.dal.ca/academics/programs/undergraduate/black-african-diaspora.html">Black and African diaspora studies</a>, which at present is being turned into a major. The flagship course, which I designed and taught, “<a href="https://academiccalendar.dal.ca/Catalog/ViewCatalog.aspx?pageid=viewcatalog&entitytype=CID&entitycode=CANA%202005">Introduction to African Canadian Studies</a>,” began with a full complement of 70 students. The launching of the minor was a milestone in my journey to establish Black studies within Canadian universities.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/X02LmAmN8qY?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A CBC roundtable on Black history in Canada.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Countering biased assumptions</h2>
<p>Why are Canadian universities reluctant to establish Black studies program? The fundamental reason has to do with the belief that Black scholarship and knowledge are unworthy and inferior, and therefore do not matter. </p>
<p>Anti-Black racism has been an integral part of the Canadian intellectual tradition. This tradition has actively denied Blacks a role in history and nation building, erasing Black people and their history from the Canadian historical canon.</p>
<p>Including Black studies within the curricula of universities and colleges would mean not only rolling out an interdisciplinary program from social sciences and humanities, but also employing a transdisciplinary approach that would cut across faculties such as law, social work, the hard sciences, engineering and health fields. Public history and engagements with community and governments would also form part of this effort. </p>
<p>This would help to advance several urgent equity and diversity imperatives with respect to learning, teaching and research.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/144401/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Afua Cooper does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>It has been an uphill battle to make the case for Black studies courses and programs in Canadian universities.Afua Cooper, professor of Black Studies, Dalhousie UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1557962021-03-08T18:57:47Z2021-03-08T18:57:47ZBanking co-ops run by Black women have a longtime legacy of helping people<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/387558/original/file-20210303-23-bxdnfz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C305%2C5982%2C3682&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">It's time to acknowledge the varied forms of co-operativism, mutual aid, self-help groups and ROSCAs that are important to the vitality of civic life.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Ajo, Osusu, Sandooq, Chit or Arisan? These are cultural names for systems of mutual aid and collectivity — known by academics as <a href="https://www.investopedia.com/terms/r/rotating-credit-and-savings-association.asp">rotating savings and credit associations</a>, or ROSCAs for short.</p>
<p>ROSCAs are hidden forms of co-operatives that Black and <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-54035099">racialized people</a> practise all over the world, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/07360932.2015.1114005">including in Canada and United States</a>.</p>
<p>For the past 14 years, I’ve been studying and writing on development, financial exclusion and co-operative economies specifically for the African diaspora. Before becoming an academic, I worked as a practitioner in the field of international development for most of a decade. I was influenced by an international non-governmental organization (NGO) near Philadelphia called <a href="https://www.oicinternational.org/">OIC International</a>. The NGO was led by African Americans and founded by the late <a href="https://thephiladelphiacitizen.org/leon-sullivan-biography/">Rev. Leon Sullivan, a civil rights activist</a>.</p>
<p>What I learned from African Americans was how to do business equitably, including how to co-opt aid and be mindful of the biased allocations of money.</p>
<h2>What are ROSCAs?</h2>
<p>ROSCAS are at the very core of what we know as the solidarity social economy — the citizens sector. They are self-managed voluntary co-ops used around the world, and they’re embedded in civil society. ROSCAs are usually described in a local vernacular — Somali Ayuuto, Jamaican Partner, Indian Chit, Haitian Sol, Chinese Hui, Equub for Eritreans and Ethiopians and Tandas for people in Latin America. And the list goes on. </p>
<p>ROSCAs aren’t new to me. My great-grandmother, Maude Gittens, was a street food vendor who lived in Sangre Grande, Trinidad. But she was also a well-known Susu “Banker Lady.” Susu is a local name for a ROSCA. It’s the same name used in Ghana, West Africa — in fact, is an original source for these co-ops. And Susu can be found among the diaspora outside of Africa and the Caribbean, so in your towns and cities. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fXMYRtLTYP0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The story of the Banker Ladies.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When people emigrate, they organize ROSCAs from around the world. It’s a way to help each other financially. The women who manage these co-ops are also concerned about social supports and kindness, wanting to give people a place to belong. </p>
<p>ROSCAs are usually made up of people who share the same socio-economic class and who are alienated from goods and services. ROSCA members decide how their co-ops will be structured. Members contribute a “hand” — a fixed sum — on a weekly or monthly basis to a pool, and that lump sum of money is collected and then shared with a member. </p>
<p>The women who organize ROSCAs call themselves the Banker Ladies — and they adhere to the same principles as other co-operatives. </p>
<h2>Co-operation and self-help</h2>
<p>My work on solidarity economies is correcting the erasure of the contributions of people of African descent. I teach my students about co-operatives, non-profits, social enterprises and mutual aid so they can go into the world and make business inclusive. I am proud to say that I see many of them disrupting conventional business practices.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.caroline-shenaz-hossein.com/">My research is smashing the binaries of South/North and left/right</a>. It pushes all of us to think about feminist futures and the theory of <a href="https://www.communityeconomies.org/about/community-economies-research-and-practice">community economies</a>. <a href="http://www.communityeconomies.org/people/jk-gibson-graham">Feminist scholars J.K. Gibson-Graham</a> and CERN — the <a href="https://www.communityeconomies.org/">community economies research network</a> — reject the fixation on the capitalist firm as the unit of analysis for how to conduct business because most of life’s interactions are submerged like an iceberg, hidden away. Community economies have always been around. So much of our self-provisioning on this planet is beneath the surface. </p>
<p>As a Black feminist scholar, I am steeped in this idea of community and solidarity economies and co-operatives, along with intersectionality, because it is the one sure way to counter racial capitalism. If the COVID-19 pandemic has taught any of us anything, it should be that the future of giving requires a new design. One that is thoughtful, more efficient and mindful of the knowledge and the expertise beyond white experts. </p>
<h2>Politicizing co-operation</h2>
<p>This is why my <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177%2F0034644619865266">Black Social Economy theory is useful</a>. It argues that to counter inequities, historically oppressed people of African descent must politicize co-operation to combat exclusion. </p>
<p>The Banker Ladies are living proof that there is a resistance quietly taking place. Thousands of Black and racialized women lead co-ops and remake co-operative economies despite the everyday traumas they endure. </p>
<p>For years, I have been interviewing hundreds of Banker Ladies in six countries. These women actually represent thousands more women, because each Banker Lady represents the members of her group, and these can range eight to 80 members. I met a Cameroonian Janjui in Toronto who had more than 1,000 members. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/banking-while-black-the-business-of-exclusion-94892">Banking while Black: The business of exclusion</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>These Banker Ladies organize co-ops, refusing to sit idly by waiting on handouts. They contribute as co-operators to make our world a better place. Banker Ladies who organize ROSCAs are rooted in mutual aid and they hold the keys to underdevelopment. </p>
<p>This is in part because they are consciously redefining what they do. They use group consensus and mutual aid to help those who are discriminated against, or those who feel like they don’t belong anywhere. Their work enhances civic life.</p>
<h2>Underground Railroad</h2>
<p>The African tradition of ROSCAs — rooted in Ujamaa, Kombit, Ubuntu and mutual aid — has helped so many people for more than 100 years and yet remains obscured, unknown. <a href="https://www.shareable.net/rosca-savings-groups-multiply-maintain-as-covid-19-rages-on/">The Underground Railroad, in fact, was a co-operative</a> in which real risks were taken to free people. When the refugees made it to Canada, they drew on <a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/business/commentary/article-black-canadians-use-alternative-banks-to-manage-systemic-racism-its/">True Bands, a ROSCA system</a>. </p>
<p>Black women today are still pooling together their after-tax income to gift each other funds to start a new business, pay tuition fees for their children or buy a used car. ROSCAs are rooted in friendship and mutual aid. Whether people with African American roots or newcomers, these ROSCA members embrace co-operative values. </p>
<p>Now that COVID-19 has revived the “<a href="https://www.versobooks.com/books/3713-mutual-aid">rebirth of mutual aid</a>,” stories of neighbours helping each other are the most cherished ones we tell each other through the lockdowns. It’s time to acknowledge the varied forms of co-operativism, mutual aid, self-help groups and ROSCAs, and to recognize that they are important to the vitality of civic life. But none of these forms of economic co-operation are new to Black and racialized people. They are a way of life. </p>
<p>The pandemic has also illuminated systemic inequities and anti-Black racism. We now understand why Black people, especially women, would seek refuge in the solidarity economy and set up their own money-pooling co-op systems out of sight. </p>
<p>The Banker Ladies address <a href="https://www.investopedia.com/terms/u/underbanked.asp">under-banking</a> and ensure there is some cohesion in our society. They repair the harms of anti-Black racism. ROSCAs teach all of us that solidarity matters. They teach us not to rely solely on a charitable model. We need to invest in Black women co-operators who understand trust and reciprocity, which are fundamental to building equitable economies. </p>
<p><em>This article is based on the lecture prepared for the Big Thinking on the Hill organized by the <a href="https://www.ideas-idees.ca/">Federation for the Humanities and Social Science</a> held on March 9, 2021</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/155796/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Caroline Shenaz Hossein receives funding from Early Researcher Award, province of Ontario.</span></em></p>Thousands of racialized women around the world run mutual aid co-ops to help each other and develop their communities.Caroline Shenaz Hossein, Associate Professor of Business & Society, York University, CanadaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1560902021-03-03T15:03:27Z2021-03-03T15:03:27ZBlack health matters: Don’t Call Me Resilient EP 5 transcript<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/387372/original/file-20210302-21-1vsy808.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1435%2C48%2C3189%2C3008&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">In this episode, Roberta Timothy explains why racial justice is a public health issue and talks about why she believes historical scientific racism needs to be addressed. Dr. David Tom Cooke, of UC Davis Health, participated in Pfizer's clinical trial as part of an effort to reduce skepticism about the COVID-19 vaccine.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Rich Pedroncelli)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/da4f148e-8528-434a-acaa-fa4ca63a77a9?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-572" class="tc-infographic" height="100" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/572/661898416fdc21fc4fdef6a5379efd7cac19d9d5/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/black-health-matters-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-5-155950">Episode 5: Black health matters</a>.</p>
<p><em>NOTE: Transcripts may contain errors. Please check the corresponding audio before quoting in print.</em></p>
<p><strong>Vinita Srivastava:</strong> From <em>The Conversation</em>, this is Don’t Call Me Resilient. I’m Vinita Srivastava. </p>
<p><strong>Roberta Timothy:</strong> Colonization is a key feature to the development and myth of Canada and it continues to create policies and practices that have treated Black and Indigenous folks and other racialized, or what I say, purposefully marginalized folks, unequal or not fairly. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> I started my conversations with today’s guest, Roberta Timothy, about a year ago at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. Roberta is a health and human rights researcher, but her work is not just theoretical. As a therapist and activist, she’s intimately connected to her community. She says there are many reasons for health disparities. Some of these are historical, some are social. These are called the social determinants of health. Roberta was definitely not alone at the start of the pandemic when she highlighted the fatal consequences of not dealing with these factors earlier. In this episode, she reflects back on the year and explains why racial justice is a public health issue. Roberta also talks about her new international health project, <a href="https://blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca/">Black Health Matters</a>. She’s a professor at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health at the University of Toronto.
Here is our conversation. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> We think about Canada as the land of equity, you all have public health care so what’s the issue? Isn’t everybody treated equally within the health care system? </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> That’s a good question. The answer is no. In the Canadian health-care system people are not treated equally. And we have to go back to history and current-day experiences. This is a colonial settler land, Canada. It’s Indigenous land and it was taken from Indigenous communities, from European settlers. And it’s also land that has had African enslavement. So colonization is a key feature to the development and myth of Canada. And it continues to create policies and practices that have treated Black and Indigenous folks and other racialized, or what I say, purposefully marginalized folks, unequal or not fairly. And that means they have not been provided with the same resources, the same access. We have to really start from the beginning of that notion of Canada being equal and Canada being fair. For who are we talking about? Canada as fair and equal, in some incidents, to white folks, to white middle class men mainly, and women to a certain degree. So the health of Canadians is not the same. Look at the disparities that are happening, and we’re talking about within COVID, and even before COVID, the health disparities come directly as a result of colonial violence. So people have not been treated equally. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Both of us are in the city of Toronto and 83 per cent of the people impacted most by COVID-19 are racialized people of colour. And we now know that similar tragic patterns exist across cities, exist across North America. So that means we’re talking about Black communities, South Asian, lower income, Indigenous Peoples. These communities and neighbourhoods have the highest mortality rates. Can you talk about why that is? What are the conditions that make certain communities harder hit? </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> The conditions that make certain communities harder hit, first of all, is the impact of racism and other intersectional violence. So it’s not a coincidence that Indigenous, Black and South Asian folks are the the highest numbers of COVID, because if you look at before COVID in terms of health disparities, Indigenous, Black, South Asian, racialized and purposefully marginalized folks were already dealing with health disparities. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> And I have been wondering myself, why don’t I feel like celebrating when it comes to this vaccine? I don’t feel a sense of relief. And I think it’s partly because of what you’re saying, which is that racialized communities have a reason to be skeptical. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> We have over 400 years to be skeptical. First of all, the whole history and current experience of scientific racism, right. Where Black, Indigenous and racialized folks have been tested on by science. There’s so many different examples of particularly Eurocentric science, which is considered mainstream science, which, of course, is a problem, and the detrimental impact on Black, Indigenous and racialized communities. So when we now come to vaccines there is lack of trust of what and who are these vaccines for and how can we trust these vaccines are not going to harm us based on our experience of the medical systems locally and globally that have actually harmed and killed in some ways our communities. So, yes we want a vaccine. Who doesn’t want a vaccine that works for us? I want to take my mask off. I want to go down the road and get a roti and get some fufu. And, you know, I’m good, but I need some commitment that they’re doing some work to try to deal with some of the historical and current day impacts of anti-Black racism and violence and what are they going to do differently regarding this vaccine? </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> What’s the rollout going to be? And what you’re saying is what you need is an acknowledgement of historical wrongs. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> One hundred per cent. I think we need to have a conversation. We can’t just say: hey, Black racialized folks take the vaccine when, in fact, there’s a lot of fear. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> As a therapist, you’ve said that you’re seeing a lot of grief come up in your practice. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Yes. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> How have you been seeing grief manifested in the last 10 months? And what kinds of things are you seeing? </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> As a therapist who does anti-oppression psychotherapy work, who does decolonizing mental health work, who sees mainly BIPOC folks, but other folks also, but comes from an anti-oppresion perspective, grief is something that comes into my office, walks into my office on a daily basis through the clients that I see. The grief from dealing with the daily, daily impacts of racism, anti-Black racism, homophobia, classism, sexism, transphobia, all of these types of violence on a daily, simultaneously happening. So I do want to say that grief is always something that my clients bring into the practice. And I also want to say, as an African-identified woman, grief is something that I also bring into the room. I bring my own grief from the experience of violence and trauma that we’re constantly living with. So now let’s get to the last 10 months. We’ve been dealing with grief in our lives for most of our lives based on our social locations and how this structural violence impacts our world and then a pandemic strikes. And there’s a lot of fear, and there’s a lot of anxiety. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Many of these COVID deaths, potentially, what you’re saying is could have been prevented if the system had been in a better place to have responded. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> A hundred percent. Let’s talk locally, when Black community health leaders were saying, hey, we need race-based data in general, even before COVID, people were saying, no, that’s not necessary. We don’t have that issue in Canada. Then, you know, COVID came and we were noticing the numbers were increasing and we were seeing that the also the rates in the states, you know, looking at Brazil right now, looking at India, some U.K. numbers came out, too, and showed that Black and racialized folks were disproportionately being impacted by COVID. So we have been saying this for years and years and years. And the answer to us has always been, well, do you have the stats that racism is impacting our health? And we’ve said we have stats in our community health centres and different organizations, but we don’t have a national type of statistic. And they would say, well, if you don’t have it, that’s what we need. We need some facts. Then when we ask for it, they say, no, we can’t have it. It’s not important. So, we’ve been given so many different messages and this is the impact of anti-Black racism and other types of violence. And then we look at what’s happening today and we see that this is a result of strategic racism. Not having the information and not having the data to actually prove what we already know is happening in our communities because we see them in the work that we do every day is such an act of violence. And for me, I am actually tired of talking about race-based data in a certain way. I was I was getting tired of talking to mainstream organizations and folks in the media about it. And that’s why I’m launching a Black Health Matters COVID-19 project. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> So tell me about that. Tell me about Black Health Matters COVID-19. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> So this project is a local and global project and it’s basically taking the power back in terms of getting our voices and our own research in this area. We’re creating our own database. The first thing we’re doing is launching a national survey about the impact of COVID-19 on Black folks in Canada and also how people are resisting because fighting back and resistance is really critical to our healing and to the work that we do. We do fight back and we do continue on and it’s really important to understand that. And also talking about intervention strategies, to share the intervention strategies that are working and also to create other ones. I’m really fortunate to be able to be doing a project that actually is based on resistance and based on giving voice to our communities. And this is also a global project because we come from transnational places. So I want to know what’s also happening in U.K. We’re talking with the U.S. We’re talking about the continent, which is huge, but we’re going to certain places and spaces, the Caribbean and Latin America, and that’s going to be the second phase. And we’re also going to be doing focus groups.</p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> You say you are working with a collective, obviously. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Yes, I have a community advisory committee, a national one. We’re creating a global one. And these are amazing mostly Black community members or racialized members who are supporting Black health initiatives. And, you know, it’s such an empowerment centred experience and model that we’re using to create our own data. We have to collect our own data for ourselves in a particular way so that we can actually create the resources, which we’re already doing to deal with this crisis. And the crisis is not only COVID-19, the crisis of anti-Black racism, crisis of intersectional violence and the crisis of continued colonization. I don’t say post-colonial when the impact of being a Black person in this country and this world still, you know, still results in health disparities. You know, high Black maternal health rates, high COVID rates, high chance of being killed by the police or being racially profiled in a store anywhere we go. So this all connects to me to grief and also dealing within grief through empowerment. Does grief exist? Yeah, we have grief. We have a lot of grief in this community. Are we fighting and trying to survive it? A hundred per cent. Because you know what? That’s what we have to do, that’s our gift to ourselves and to the next generation is to continue forward and through. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Roberta, I’ve heard you say this a couple of times, but I really want you to see if you can expand on it for me, was one of the things I’ve heard you say is resistance, not resilience. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Yes, I have said that. So resiliency means that something is happening and you are trying to survive it. Right? It’s like you have experienced housing insecurities. You just lost your job based on a racist employer. Your blood pressure is kind of high based on the result. And you know what, how much resilience can one person or one community or one racial group have? It is absolutely ridiculous. It’s not how much stuff we can take, how much violence we can choke off of, it is has to be about how can we resist this, how do we dismantle this, how do we fight back and how do we make ourselves and other generations not have to be impacted by that? You have that strength and there’s a need to actually create hope for you to actually dismantle systems. I have to believe that I can consciously do things differently to upset a system that is violating myself and my community and taking the risk to not only care about yourself, but caring about yourself as a part of it and care about your community, but also act on that risk in a safe way and a safe way for you and a way that can actually create changes for your life and for your community life. So it’s a way bigger and way more powerful thing. We need to resist these systems. These systems are not inevitable. Resistance is inevitable. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> There are also different ways of being resilient and there’s different ways of being resistant. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> I’m also learning to strategically not give my voice. And that’s an act of resistance, not giving you the information, not giving me the conversation, not giving you all of what my voice can give. And that is also part of my resistance. Silence has been a part of my resistance also. And within this research project, when I was going on this media thing and going around and people are talking about debating about race-based data, and I was kind of getting sick of the situation. That’s when I decided to go back inside and see what was happening for the community. I wasn’t doing Black health COVID research. Who was doing that? I was doing a mental health project, which obviously this connects to. But I did it because I needed to resist what people were giving me and what they were giving me was that Black health is not important and that race-based data from Black health researchers is not important and from the community is not important. And I said, you know what? It is important. And you know what? Here you go. This is what I’m going to do. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> And you obviously got funded for that study. You’re at the University of Toronto School of Public Health. I mean, I understand that you’re talking about resisting the institutions, but you have survived and thrived there. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Yes. That’s a that’s a really important point. And I think that I have experienced a lot of anti-Black racism in institutions. I’m a working-class woman who came from poor and amazing beginnings. I grew up in a Black feminist home. I grew up in a Pan African anti-apartheid movement, anti-violence movement in the woman abuse shelter. So I grew up with amazing Black, Indigenous and racialized women. I mean, that’s my first piece. And I struggled with the notion of academia, particularly in a colonized state that we live in. And I have been there for now a year, Dalla, and I also was at York recently. But Dalla — when I asked for support and funding, because it’s very hard for Black-led research, particularly with particular consciousness, to get funded in this country. My project was not funded from a Canadian research agency. It wasn’t only me, it was a lot of Black-led researchers nationally were not funded on COVID. So we’re saying race-based matters. They’re saying no, we’re saying, OK, can we get funding to do projects? This is like five different research projects that I know of in this one funding call and nobody got funding. And I was just so — you talk about grief, you’re seeing people dying, right? You know, you’re seeing people dying. You’re enraged with anger because of the pain. And, you know, for me, it’s always about how do I deal with this pain. When I was seeing the bodies in the states and I was seeing the numbers in Canada and U.K. and globally happening and looking at Black, Indigenous and racialized folks just being killed and just not being even cared for. And then I’m hearing that this race-based data is not important. And all of these other things, I was just I was so much in rage. And that’s where this project came from, from the pain and the hope of doing this work. And I went to my dean and said that you want to do resisting anti-Black racism work? This is an opportunity to do so in supporting this project. And the Institute for Pandemics, a new project at Dalla supported my work. And also another funder, a private funder, also recently has supported the work. So it’s really great that, you know, this is happening. And I think it shows that people are putting some money to their statements because there’s a lot of resisting anti-Black racism statements going around and people are not putting resources to it. So if you really want to help and support our communities to really do emancipatory and decolonizing work, put resources to your statements that you’re putting in, as I call it, from the the summer of wokeness, put your resources where it’s needed and give it in the hands of Black, Indigenous and racialized communities so that we can do our own work. We’re doing it anyways. So give us the money so we can continue on. I am reclaiming money for not only myself, but for our community and for the work and the living that we need to do and the healing that we need to do in our community. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Beautiful, beautiful. Roberta, it’s beautiful to hear you speak. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Thank you, Vinita. And it’s beautiful to speak with you. You’re a sister who has been doing the work in the community. And it should be noted that journalism is notoriously white supremacist in this country and many other places and spaces. And you have been giving the voice to Black, Indigenous, South Asian, racialized, purposefully marginalized people. And by doing so that is an act of resistance. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Oh, for sure. But it doesn’t come without its grief. I got to tell you, there are so many days where I just sit down and cry. Taking in the stories and then just the personal cost of resisting every day. Resist the narrative every single day. </p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> Yeah, but resisting doesn’t mean that we don’t cry. I cry a lot. I’m the I’m a town crier. I would say. I think you could probably hire me out. I’m not even joking.</p>
<p><strong>RT:</strong> I also want to be able to celebrate resistance and celebrate the life that I’m living, even though there is so much challenges and so much pain and so much loss happening. It’s kind of like a dance of how you do that. And so, yeah, just want to share that with you. </p>
<p><strong>VS:</strong> Oh, that’s beautiful. Makes sense. </p>
<p>That’s it for this episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient. Thanks for listening. Let us know what you’re thinking. Just tag me at <a href="https://twitter.com/writevinita">@WriteVinita</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">@ConversationCA</a> and use the hashtag #Don'tCallMeResilient. If you’d like to read more about social justice as a health issue, go to <a href="https://theconversation.com/ca">theconversation.com/ca</a>. It’s also where you’ll find our show notes with links to stories and research connected to our conversation with Roberta. You can find her study at <a href="https://blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca/">Blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca</a>. </p>
<p><em>Don’t Call Me Resilient is a production of The Conversation Canada. This podcast was produced with a grant for Journalism Innovation from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. The series is produced and hosted by me, Vinita Srivastava. Our producers are Nahid Buie, Nehal El-Hadi and Vicky Mochama. With additional editorial help from our intern Ibrahim Daair. Reza Dahya is our technical producer and sound guru. Anowa Quarcoo is in charge of marketing and production design. Lisa Varano is our audience development editor and Scott White is the CEO of The Conversation Canada. Special thanks also to Jennifer Moroz for her indispensable help on this project. And if you’re wondering who wrote and performed the music we use on the pod, that’s the amazing Zaki Ibrahim. The track is called Something in the Water.</em></p>
<p>Thanks for listening, everyone, and hope you join us again. Until next time I am Vinita. And please, don’t call me resilient.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/156090/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
Transcript of Don’t Call Me Resilient, Episode 5: Black health mattersVinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientIbrahim Daair, Culture + Society EditorLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1559502021-03-03T15:03:23Z2021-03-03T15:03:23ZBlack health matters: Don’t Call Me Resilient EP 5<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/387371/original/file-20210302-23-198260y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=392%2C60%2C6317%2C4406&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">In this episode, Roberta Timothy talks about her new international health project, Black Health Matters, and explains why racial justice is a public health issue. In this photo, Dr. Janice Bacon, a primary care physician with Central Mississippi Health Services, gives Jeremiah Young, 11, a physical exam.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Rogelio V. Solis)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/da4f148e-8528-434a-acaa-fa4ca63a77a9?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-572" class="tc-infographic" height="100" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/572/661898416fdc21fc4fdef6a5379efd7cac19d9d5/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>When COVID-19 first appeared in North America, some called it the great equalizer. But the facts quickly revealed a grim reality: <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s11606-020-05880-5">COVID-19 disproportionately impacts Black, Indigenous, poor and racialized communities. </a></p>
<p>We started our conversations with this episode’s guest, Roberta Timothy, about a year ago at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. Roberta is a health and human rights researcher and a professor at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health at the University of Toronto. But her work is not just theoretical. As a therapist and activist, she is intimately connected to her community. </p>
<p>She says there are many reasons for health disparities. Some of these are historical, some are social. These are called <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/health-promotion/population-health/what-determines-health.html">the social determinants of health</a>. Roberta was not alone at the start of the pandemic when she highlighted the fatal consequences of not dealing with these factors earlier. </p>
<p>In this episode, she talks about <a href="https://blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca">her new international health project, Black Health Matters</a>, and reflects on the year and explains why racial justice is a public health issue.</p>
<p>In this episode, we discuss: </p>
<ul>
<li>historical scientific racism and a resulting fear of vaccines</li>
<li>how grief is a direct impact of racism </li>
<li>the challenges of being funded as a Black researcher</li>
<li>international research alliances</li>
<li>Black Health Matters project </li>
</ul>
<p>For a full transcript of this episode of <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/black-health-matters-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-5-transcript-156090">go here</a>.</p>
<p>Every week, we highlight articles that drill down into the topics we discuss in the episode. </p>
<h2>This week:</h2>
<ul>
<li><p>Roberta Timothy discusses <a href="https://theconversation.com/5-ways-to-address-internalized-white-supremacy-and-its-impact-on-health-152667">five ways to address internalized white supremacy and its impact on health</a>.</p></li>
<li><p>Esther Jones explains the <a href="https://theconversation.com/many-black-americans-arent-rushing-to-get-the-covid-19-vaccine-a-long-history-of-medical-abuse-suggests-why-152368">history of medical abuse in the U.S. and why many Black Americans aren’t rushing to get the COVID-19 vaccine</a>.</p></li>
</ul>
<h2>In case you missed it:</h2>
<ul>
<li><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/coronavirus-discriminates-against-black-lives-through-surveillance-policing-and-the-absence-of-health-data-135906">Coronavirus discriminates against Black lives through surveillance, policing and the absence of health data</a>.</p></li>
<li><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/coronavirus-is-not-the-great-equalizer-race-matters-133867">Coronavirus is not the great equalizer — race matters</a>.</p></li>
<li><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/covid-19-is-hitting-black-and-poor-communities-the-hardest-underscoring-fault-lines-in-access-and-care-for-those-on-margins-135615">COVID-19 is hitting black and poor communities the hardest, underscoring fault lines in access and care for those on margins</a>.</p></li>
<li><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/racism-impacts-your-health-84112">Racism impacts your health</a>.</p></li>
<li><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/4-ways-to-close-the-covid-19-racial-health-gap-149426">4 ways to close the COVID-19 racial health gap</a>.</p></li>
</ul>
<p>You can listen or subscribe on <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876">Apple Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5zaW1wbGVjYXN0LmNvbS9qZFg0Ql9DOA">Google Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7">Spotify</a> or <a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com/">wherever you listen to your favourite podcasts</a>. <a href="mailto:theculturedesk@theconversation.com">We’d love to hear from you</a>, including any ideas for future episodes. Join The Conversation on <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheConversationCanada">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/">Instagram</a> and use #DontCallMeResilient.</p>
<p><em>This podcast is produced by The Conversation with a grant for Journalism Innovation from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.</em> </p>
<p><em>It is hosted and produced by Vinita Srivastava. The producers are: Nahid Buie, Ibrahim Daair, Anowa Quarcoo, Latifa Abdin, Vicky Mochama, Nehal El-Hadi. Sound engineer: Reza Dahya. Audience development: Lisa Varano.</em></p>
<p><em>Theme music by <a href="https://sixshooterrecords.com/artists/zaki-ibrahim/">Zaki Ibrahim</a>. Logo by Zoe Jazz. Saniya Rashid is our research assistant supported by MITACS. Our CEO is Scott White. Thanks to Jennifer Moroz for her advice. Launch team: Imriel Morgan/<a href="https://contentisqueen.org/">Content is Queen</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/155950/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
When COVID-19 first appeared, some called it the great equalizer. But the facts quickly revealed a grim reality: COVID-19 disproportionately impacts racialized communities.Vinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientAnowa Quarcoo, Assistant Editor, Audience DevelopmentIbrahim Daair, Culture + Society EditorLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1526672021-03-03T15:03:21Z2021-03-03T15:03:21Z5 ways to address internalized white supremacy and its impact on health<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/387286/original/file-20210302-23-nsca2.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=116%2C38%2C4185%2C2740&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">This mural in-progress outside the Apple store in Montréal is a sign of antiracist allyship: will this work help society start to address the long-term health impacts of racism? </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>During the summer of <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/canada-anti-black-racism-protests-solidarity-rallies-1.5601792">protests</a>, <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/7077018/anti-black-racism-canada-companies/">workplaces</a>, institutions and many businesses seemed to have finally “<a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/thecurrent/the-current-for-june-10-2020-1.5605946/as-canadians-experience-awakening-on-race-issues-lawyer-calls-for-substance-over-symbols-1.5606557">awakened</a>” to the plight of <a href="https://www.bcg.com/en-ca/publications/2020/reality-of-anti-black-racism-in-canada">Black folks and the injustices we face</a>. But the conversation needs to go further. </p>
<p>We need to also have a discussion about <a href="https://societyforhealthpsychology.org/resources/research-advocacy/diversity-racism/internalized/">the impact of white supremacy (also known as internalized racism) on our physical and mental health</a>. The definition of internalized racism is “<a href="https://societyforhealthpsychology.org/resources/research-advocacy/diversity-racism/internalized/">the acceptance, by marginalized racial populations, of the negative societal beliefs and stereotypes about themselves</a>.” There are many spaces where <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0011000020904454">internalized white supremacy has created detrimental impacts on Black people’s health</a>. To continue Black resistance, decolonization, and dismantling white supremacy we need to address some of these realities. </p>
<p>In this era of multiple pandemics — COVID-19 next to systemic <a href="https://www.refinery29.com/en-ca/2020/05/9844049/regis-korchinski-paquet-pandemic-black-trauma">anti-Black</a> and <a href="https://rsc-src.ca/en/covid-19/impact-covid-19-in-racialized-communities/historical-account-pandemic-health-colonialism">anti-Indigenous</a> racism — discussing <a href="https://issuu.com/almaiflores/docs/rk_internalized_racism">the impact of internalized racism</a> on our health is crucial to furthering Black resistance, healing and emancipation.</p>
<p>As a global social justice health researcher and psychotherapist with a private practice, I have collected both <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s40615-020-00726-6">research-based evidence</a> as well as clinical experiences from this past year (and my many years working in community mental health) <a href="https://div12.org/internalized-racism-and-mental-health/">of the damage of white supremacy and internalized racism</a>. </p>
<p>Some of the earliest conceptions and seminal researchers who have work on internalized racism are: W.E.B Du Bois in his 1903 <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/292303/the-souls-of-black-folk-by-w-e-b-du-bois-introduction-by-ibram-x-kendi-notes-by-monica-e-elbert/"><em>The Souls of the Black Folk</em></a>, <a href="https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/marcus-garvey">Marcus Garvey</a> in 1923, <a href="https://groveatlantic.com/book/black-skin-white-masks/">Franz Fanon on Black masks in 1952</a> and <em>The Wretched of the Earth</em> in ‘65, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/10/books/albert-memmi-a-jewish-arab-intellectual-dies-at-99.html">Albert Memmi’s</a> work on the colonizer and the colonized in 1965, to name a few. For a review of psychological literature on internalized racism, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/josi.12350">check out the 2019 paper by: E.J.R. David, Tiera M. Schroeder and Jessicaanne Fernandez</a>.</p>
<h2>White supremacy</h2>
<p>White supremacy is maintained through systems of punishment and <a href="http://slaveryandremembrance.org/articles/article/?id=A0059">religious indoctrination</a>. The <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/01/23/podcasts/1619-podcast.html">over 400 years of colonization’s violence on Black people’s lives</a>, including the <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/2020/06/history-of-lynching-violent-deaths-reflect-brutal-american-legacy/">killing</a>, <a href="https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/humanrights/2020/08/12/racism-police-violence-and-mass-incarceration-the-legacies-of-slavery-and-segregation-in-the-united-states/">mass incarceration</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/14742837.2019.1577133">co-optation</a> and <a href="https://medium.com/the-establishment/why-white-america-demonizes-the-blacklivesmatter-movement-and-why-that-must-change-4cda83727063">demonizing of our resistance movements</a> through white supremacist systems and practices, have been internalized and as a result <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/13557858.2016.1196652">impact our health</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/racism-impacts-your-health-84112">Racism impacts your health</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Internalized white supremacy is a direct result of systemic anti-Black racism and intersectional violence. It <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/713667453">creates pain, suffering</a>, and rifts and divisions in our communities and movements. It occurs when <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/african-feminist-analysis-popular-culture-roberta-timothy/e/10.4324/9780203872659-21">folks of colour</a> believe racist stereotypes and act them out in their daily lives. Internalized white supremacy supports systematic violence by ensuring that oppressed peoples are consumed by “whiteness” or proximity to it, as the measure of greatness or goodness. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, “Blackness” and other racialized identities are internalized as subservient or bad. Internalized white supremacy has its history in Black communities through the brutal <a href="https://www.canada.ca/en/parks-canada/news/2020/07/the-enslavement-of-african-people-in-canada-c-16291834.html">enslavement of Africans</a>. </p>
<p>The separation of African families and the threat of death, sexual and physical violence, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/radio/quirks/quirks-quarks-black-in-science-1.5909184">racist scientific experiments</a>, and other cruelties created feelings of powerlessness and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1037/pri0000076">trauma</a> that <a href="https://groveatlantic.com/book/the-wretched-of-the-earth/">purported whiteness as superior, and Blackness as inferior</a>. </p>
<p>There is continuing research in the fields of <a href="https://societyforhealthpsychology.org/resources/research-advocacy/diversity-racism/internalized/">psychology</a>, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/s40615-020-00726-6">health</a>, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2568670/pdf/jnma00181-0066.pdf">medicine</a> and <a href="http://doi.org/10.1016/j.soscij.2009.08.001">education</a>, to name a few, on internalized white supremacy (internalized racism) and its <a href="https://www.seattlechildrens.org/globalassets/documents/clinics/diversity/the-traumatic-impact-of-racism-and-discrimination-on-young-people-and-how-to-talk-about-it.pdf">detrimental impacts</a> on our <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2608441/pdf/jnma00353-0025.pdf">physical</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/1368430216641304">mental health</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://theconversation.com/ca/podcasts">Click here to listen to Don’t Call Me Resilient</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Addressing white supremacy</h2>
<p>If you are trying to figure out if you have experienced or witnessed internalized white supremacy, here are some anecdotal examples that I have seen:</p>
<ul>
<li>When Black, Indigneous or people of colour activists publicly discredit other Black folks who they deem are not as “woke” as them.</li>
<li>When white activists are given more props and support for joining Black resistance than Black folks.</li>
<li>When Black folks do not credit Black queer communities for supporting and creating spaces for Black resistance.</li>
<li>When Black, Indigneous or people of colour activists deem protesting as the only or most “real” form of activism, and question other forms of resistance. </li>
<li>When you are the only director/manager/tenured faculty and you do not advocate for other Black, Indigneous or people of colour folks at your work or distrust hiring, or mistreat Black people.</li>
<li>When you preface excellence, knowledge and opportunity with “whiteness.” within academia, government, health-care, business and community among others.</li>
</ul>
<p>The need to emancipate ourselves from internalized white supremacy is critical for our well-being and health. Our survival and continued ability to thrive depends on it. My current research, <a href="https://blackhealthmatterscovid19.ca/">Black Health Matters COVID-19</a>, addresses internalized white supremacy and health, among other areas. <a href="https://decolonialatlas.wordpress.com/2018/02/18/500-years-of-black-resistance">Resistance against internalized white supremacy is inevitable, over 400 years old and counting</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/coronavirus-discriminates-against-black-lives-through-surveillance-policing-and-the-absence-of-health-data-135906">Coronavirus discriminates against Black lives through surveillance, policing and the absence of health data</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>5 ways to resist internalized white supremacy</h2>
<ol>
<li><p>Understand the <a href="https://www.pbs.org/tpt/slavery-by-another-name/themes/white-supremacy/">root causes of internalized white supremacy</a>. Make the <a href="https://www.vice.com/en/article/7kpxxb/canada-among-very-worst-white-supremacist-countries-report">connections between white supremacy and entitlement and internalization</a>. </p></li>
<li><p>Respect our heterogeneous identities and experiences, address intersectional violence, commit to a <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.appdev.2020.101184">purposeful connection</a> for <a href="http://www.rci.uct.ac.za/sites/default/files/image_tool/images/429/feminist_africa_journals/archive/02/editorial-_feminism_and_pan-africanism.pdf">meaningful Pan African resistance</a> and unity.</p></li>
<li><p>Join a <a href="https://www.capradio.org/articles/2020/06/18/black-leaders-are-creating-healing-spaces-to-combat-the-mental-stress-of-racism-injustice/">healing circle with Black folks</a> who can openly discuss the impact and ways through the pain and strain. Seek <a href="https://pacja.org.au/category/author/roberta-k-timothy/">anti-oppression counselling</a> to support the anxiety, depression and other mental health impacts.</p></li>
<li><p>Exercise, eat healthy food and engage in intimacy and relaxation to reduce the <a href="https://theconversation.com/grief-is-a-direct-impact-of-racism-eight-ways-to-support-yourself-91750">impact of grief</a> and stress on your body, mind and spirit.</p></li>
<li><p>For allies, white people and non-Black folks: Step up, be accountable and responsible for dismantling white supremacist systems and practices. Call out your own community and structures. Pay for <a href="https://www.utoronto.ca/news/reparations-slavery-and-genocide-should-be-used-address-health-inequities-u-t-expert">health reparations</a>. </p></li>
</ol>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/da4f148e-8528-434a-acaa-fa4ca63a77a9?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321534/original/file-20200319-22606-q84y3k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=182&fit=crop&dpr=1" alt="Listen on Apple Podcasts" width="268" height="68"></a>
<a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321535/original/file-20200319-22606-1l4copl.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=183&fit=crop&dpr=1" width="268" height="70"></a></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/152667/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Roberta K. Timothy does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>While many institutions pledged their support for anti-racism work this summer, a health researcher says these ideas need to go further to address the long-term health impacts of internalized racism.Roberta K. Timothy, Assistant Professor, Teaching Stream, Social and Behavioural Health Science, Dalla Lana School of Public Health, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1504892021-02-17T15:50:33Z2021-02-17T15:50:33ZHow to curb anti-Black racism in Canadian schools<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/384642/original/file-20210217-23-1qjtjy4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=279%2C279%2C4873%2C3166&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Ending racism in schools requires a deep understanding of anti-Black racism.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Wayne Lee Sing/Unsplash)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Ontario’s Minister of Education announced last summer <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/ontario-streaming-high-school-racism-lecce-1.5638700">that academic streaming would be phased out of the province’s schools in Grade 9</a>. Streaming refers to students having to choose either an <a href="https://toronto.ctvnews.ca/ontario-to-begin-phasing-out-grade-9-applied-and-academic-streaming-in-2021-1.5017071">“academic” or “applied”</a> track; it affects a student’s chance of going to a post-secondary institution. Teachers are guilty of assuming <a href="https://youthrex.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/fighting-an-uphill-battle-sm.pdf">they will not do well in the advanced classroom</a>. </p>
<p>Data shows Black students are <a href="https://edu.yorku.ca/files/2017/04/Towards-Race-Equity-in-Education-April-2017.pdf?x60002">disproportionately affected by being streamed to the applied track</a>. Instead, Black students are encouraged and praised in athletics and are often not provided the resources and support meant for equal <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/en/pub/89-657-x/89-657-x2020002-eng.pdf?st=EYIUUjPV">opportunity and academic success</a>. It is in part a reflection of the messages and the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0042085911429084">hidden curriculum pertaining to racial stereotypes</a>. </p>
<p>Black students have also repeatedly described the <a href="http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/new/review-peel-district-school-board-report-en.pdf">ill effects of subtle forms of discrimination and anti-Blackness as part of their socializing in classes and hallways</a>. Statistically, <a href="https://youthrex.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/fighting-an-uphill-battle-sm.pdf">Black students are treated less sympathetically than their white peers regarding their behaviours and rule violations</a> and they are therefore continuously <a href="https://edu.yorku.ca/files/2017/04/Towards-Race-Equity-in-Education-April-2017.pdf?x60002">over-represented in school suspensions</a>.</p>
<p>Within all of these conversations about racist practices, what often gets left out are stories about the ways school disciplinary practice and policies affect Black students’ emotional well-being and traumatizes them. <a href="https://thewalrus.ca/canadian-education-is-steeped-in-anti-black-racism/">Black students continue to be judged as inferior and dangerous</a>. Even with “progressive discipline,” Black students who violate rules <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0022427815610794">are seen as offenders</a> rather than teens in need of support. </p>
<p><a href="http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/document/curricul/antiraci/antire.html">Almost 30 years ago, Ontario floated a blueprint for addressing these issues</a>. But regardless of <a href="http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/policyfunding/equity.pdf">continued calls to action for an inclusive education</a>, Black students continue to receive subtle negative messages. School boards have not found a systemic way to enforce anti-racism and equity policies to lessen the disruption in Black youth’s lives. However, educators working in kindergarten to Grade 12 spaces are in a unique position to correct the practices that are unjust for Canadian Black youth.</p>
<h2>Emotional scars</h2>
<p>As a child and youth worker, I work directly with high school students that encounter school discipline. Many Black youth walk through our doors with diminished self-esteem when it comes to academics. They discuss the negative words and coded language teachers use to describe their perceptions of them. I have seen tears roll down these young people’s cheeks while they explain how they are often criticized for behaviours that are rarely pointed out in their white peers. Black boys and girls share how they are painted as “militant,” “rebellious,” “surly,” and/or having “attitude adjustment issues.”</p>
<p>Each story lays bare the impact of anti-Black racism in the schooling experience. The school discipline that leads to these heavy feelings is rarely overtly violent or threatening, <a href="https://sfgov.org/juvprobation/sites/default/files/Documents/juvprobation/JPC_2014/Healing_the_Hidden_Wounds_of_Racial_Trauma.pdf">but as professor of family therapy Kenneth V. Hardy notes, it can “lacerate the spirit, scar the soul and puncture the psyche.”</a></p>
<p>I am exploring the impact of school discipline on Black students in my doctoral research. In this, I recognize how dominant definitions of trauma invalidate the ways <a href="https://www.psychology.uga.edu/coping-racial-trauma">anti-Black racism can traumatize the Black students who are subjected to it</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/384789/original/file-20210217-15-1kf6b2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Teachers can make changes in the classroom to help with anti-Black racism.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Unsplash)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Black students are forced to find ways to cope with <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/19361521.2011.574678">the ongoing psychological and emotional stress of daily microaggressions, and the feelings of inferiority these negative interactions create</a>. The stereotyping and expectations of how Black students must be and act upholds chronic patterns of oppression, isolation and alienation, which they carry as part of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1037/h0087722">the race-related stress they experience</a>. Researchers have demonstrated that <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK207191/">when a person is subjected to situations that produce high levels of stress, trauma as mental, emotional and psychological injury may occur</a>. </p>
<p>These brushes with school discipline are not a singular event. They stretch across Canadian Black youth’s entire life experience. <a href="https://fernwoodpublishing.ca/book/race-and-well-being">It disrupts how they engage with the world and affects their families and communities as a whole</a>. It remains <a href="https://www.seattlechildrens.org/globalassets/documents/clinics/diversity/the-traumatic-impact-of-racism-and-discrimination-on-young-people-and-how-to-talk-about-it.pdf">stuck in their minds and bodies until it is properly addressed</a>. If traumatic encounters with school discipline are only viewed as situational or coincidental, they will never register as valid to the people who have the power to eliminate and reduce their frequency. </p>
<h2>A critical anti-racist approach</h2>
<p>To work towards a solution, educators must gain clarity about problems Black youth face. This requires recognizing that the <a href="https://www.tolerance.org/magazine/all-students-need-antiracism-education">educators’ work is not neutral, but linked to a larger social, cultural, historic and economic contexts</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/black-history-how-racism-in-ontario-schools-today-is-connected-to-a-history-of-segregation-147633">Black History: How racism in Ontario schools today is connected to a history of segregation</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Educators must use a critical anti-racism lens to dismantle offending practices. They must question power relations in the school environment. They need to recognize the psychological harm and trauma that may undermine Black youth safety in classrooms. The ways that racism is experienced by Black youth in education must be identified, acknowledged and validated. </p>
<p>Educators who find themselves in classrooms with majority-Black youth have to understand that Black communities are not monolithic. In all classrooms, it is imperative that educators foster their own <a href="https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/EJ1030714.pdf">racial literacy</a>, to help further their understanding about Black youth experiences. They must refrain from stereotyping. When teachers gain improved racial literacy, they become more practised in discussing race. They can then effectively lead discussions among all students, and interpret and teach curriculum in responsive ways.</p>
<p>To do this work, an examination of individual and institutional racism is necessary. <a href="https://www.crrf-fcrr.ca/images/Clearinghouse/ePubFaShRacScho.pdf">Learn the historical roots of racial trauma and anti-Black racism, its definitions, its manifestations within schools and its impact</a>. Teachers must not only equip themselves with relevant knowledge but they must also adequately prepare their Black youth to deal with racial oppression and other forms of discrimination. </p>
<p><a href="https://youthrex.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/YouthREX-Working-Together-To-Do-Right-for-Black-Youth.pdf">Black youth’s voices</a>, opinions and agency must be centred to reimagine the type of school environment they need to thrive. Our schools need opportunities that allow all students to engage in these conversations <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Little-Book-of-Restorative-Justice-in-Educatio%5B%E2%80%A6%5D/Katherine-Evans/Justice-and-Peacebuilding/9781680991727">and access the support needed to reduce conflict and promote restorative practices</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://theconversation.com/ca/podcasts">Click here to listen to Don’t Call Me Resilient</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Conversation among educators must shift from normalizing the ideologies of the dominant system to understanding that race matters in their interactions with Black youth. This should also include a deep understanding of anti-Black racism, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/josh.12832">how it is constructed in schools and embedded in policies and school discipline</a>.</p>
<p>This approach may help to bring forth change and <a href="http://doi.org/10.1080/19361521.2011.574678">disrupt the racial trauma that goes unnoticed in school settings</a>. </p>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/ead87c71-07ea-4f35-bded-948e7f703681?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321534/original/file-20200319-22606-q84y3k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=182&fit=crop&dpr=1" alt="Listen on Apple Podcasts" width="268" height="68"></a>
<a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321535/original/file-20200319-22606-1l4copl.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=183&fit=crop&dpr=1" width="268" height="70"></a></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/150489/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tanitiã Munroe does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Although school boards have yet to find a systemic way to combat anti-Black racism, educators are in a unique position to correct these injustices.Tanitiã Munroe, PhD student and researcher, Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1476332021-02-08T21:06:32Z2021-02-08T21:06:32ZBlack History: How racism in Ontario schools today is connected to a history of segregation<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382027/original/file-20210202-13-q8175m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C299%2C1909%2C1123&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Students of School Section #13 with teacher, Verlyn Ladd, who taught at the school from 1939 to 1958. Class of 1951, Buxton, Raleigh Township, Ontario. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Buxton National Historic Site & Museum)</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Toronto’s <a href="https://schoolweb.tdsb.on.ca/africentricschool">Africentric Alternative School</a> first <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/toronto-s-1st-africentric-school-set-to-open-1.809455">opened in 2009</a> after <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41473677?seq=1">years of advocacy</a> and then months of heated public debates and criticism about the meaning and significance of the school. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=764&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=764&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=764&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=960&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=960&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382362/original/file-20210203-17-wog6rj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=960&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Yolisa Dalamba, a proponent of establishing the Africentric school, reads her notes during a debate in Toronto, Jan. 29, 2008. THE CANADIAN PRESS/J.P. Moczulski.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/J.P. Moczulski</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For some, the school represented a push towards <a href="https://this.org/2009/07/08/case-for-afrocentric-black-schools/">equitable schooling practices within an education system that largely left Black students disengaged</a>. For others, the school represented a newer, more modern <a href="https://nationalpost.com/posted-toronto/africentric-high-school-approved-for-toronto-critics-fear-segregation">form of segregation</a> disconnected from the multicultural learning practices promoted throughout Ontario schools. </p>
<p>The assumption here was that Ontario always had equitable and open schools. Many argued that separate institutions (especially those that considered the intersections of race and educational access) were not reflective of the inclusive education that Canada encouraged.</p>
<p>However, what many Canadians do not know is that the province has a long and complex history with separate schooling beginning with the creation of public school systems in the province. In fact, racism and segregation remain embedded in the institutional fabric of formal schooling systems across Canada.</p>
<h2>Exclusionary practice became policy</h2>
<p>When I first began researching <a href="https://ojs.library.carleton.ca/index.php/sjcs/article/view/292">Black women teachers in Canada</a> for my book <em><a href="https://www.mqup.ca/schooling-the-system-products-9780228005391.php">Schooling the System: A History of Black Women Teachers</a></em>, I was struck by how many women in the early 19th century worked in separate schools providing education to Black students. </p>
<p>I soon discovered that most of these women were unable to gain employment in public school systems as a result of discriminatory hiring practices that funnelled them into predominately Black schools. These schools were created as a result of a series of exclusionary social practices, but were later supported through formal educational policy.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="(Cover of 'Schooling the System' book showing children and teacher)" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382352/original/file-20210203-23-2qp9g2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Schooling the System: A History of Black Women Teachers,’ by Funké Aladejebi.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(McGill-Queen's Press)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The <a href="https://ecampusontario.pressbooks.pub/robsonsoced/chapter/__unknown__-3/#:%7E:text=Upper%20Canada%201850,of%20all%20children%20to%20schools">Common School Act of 1850</a> set into law what was already being practised by local communities throughout Ontario. The act permitted any group of five Black families to ask local school trustees to establish a separate school. The law also permitted the creation of separate schools for Roman Catholic and Protestant families. </p>
<p>While the act was intended to allow for freedom of choice in various communities, it gave many racial separatists <a href="https://utorontopress.com/ca/colour-coded-4">the ammunition they needed to enforce racial segregation</a>. </p>
<p>In various areas, white community members used the act as a way to force Black students into <a href="https://hssh.journals.yorku.ca/index.php/hssh/article/view/4373">separate institutions</a>. These individuals refused to allow Black pupils into public (then called common) schools and justified this by using the 1850 Act.</p>
<h2>Black children isolated, turned away</h2>
<p>While there were occasions where Black children were permitted into common schools, they were often forced to sit on separate benches or isolated within these classroom spaces. More often than not, Black children were not allowed into common schools and were required to attend separate Black institutions. As a result, the passage of the Common School Act of 1850 further entrenched Black students into substandard facilities throughout Ontario and often forced Black Canadian community members to create their own separate schools or use facilities provided to them by local trustees.</p>
<p>While the Common School Act of 1850 was intended to create equal education among racial and religious groups, expectations fell short of the ideal. <a href="https://www.mqup.ca/blacks-in-canada--the-products-9780773516328.php">Race-based separate schools flourished</a> in Niagara, St. Catharines, Dresden, Simcoe, Chatham, Buxton, Sandwich, Gosfield, Mulden, Anderdon and Colchester, where the last segregated school closed in 1965, over ten years after the historic <a href="https://global.oup.com/ushe/product/brown-v-board-of-education-9780195156324?cc=ca&lang=en&"><em>Brown vs. Board of Education of Topeka</em> case was won in the United States</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/racial-segregation-returns-to-us-schools-60-years-after-the-supreme-court-banned-it-25850">Racial segregation returns to US schools, 60 years after the Supreme Court banned it </a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>In the U.S., as a result of <em>Brown vs. Board of Ed.</em>, many <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/2967189">Black teachers lost their jobs, and were often unable to access positions in public boards</a>. In Canada, similar but unacknowledged forms of racial prejudice ensured that Black educators could not gain access to public school systems until the middle of the 20th century.</p>
<p>When Black schools did open, Black community members and teachers ensured these <a href="https://hssh.journals.yorku.ca/index.php/hssh/article/view/4373">schools were also open to students of all races</a>. </p>
<p>Scholar Alison Norman who has researched <a href="https://www.erudit.org/en/journals/onhistory/2015-v107-n1-onhistory03913/1050677ar.pdf">school teachers at Six Nations of the Grand River</a> has examined the history of <a href="https://tspace.library.utoronto.ca/bitstream/1807/24840/1/Norman_Alison_201004_PhD_thesis.pdf">Black educators who taught at Six Nations, including generations of the Alexander family</a>. These Black and Indigenous educators collaborated to preserve cultural and community ties. In my scholarship, I am just beginning to examine points of convergence among Black and Indigenous communities, asking how they experienced different but connected models of separate schooling.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indian-day-school-survivors-are-seeking-truth-and-justice-146655">Indian day school survivors are seeking truth and justice</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Some institutions, such as the <a href="http://www.buxtonmuseum.com/history/virtual-elgin-settlement.html">Buxton Mission</a> school, developed elite learning programs for Black and white students alike. Buxton was one of the only separate schools offering classical training (with a focus on Latin, Greek, mathematics, theology, history and geography). The school prepared many Black students for university in Canada and the United States.</p>
<h2>Gerrymandering school districts</h2>
<p>Despite the existence of integrated schools like the Buxton Mission school, the 1850 Common School Act revealed uneven institutional supports for Black students. In Charlotteville, Ont., school district lines were <a href="https://www.mqup.ca/blacks-in-canada--second-edition--the-products-9780773516328.php">gerrymandered</a> to prevent Black students from attending public schools in the area. Historian Robin Winks describes this as the “<a href="https://www.mqup.ca/blacks-in-canada--the-products-9780773516328.php">first and possibly most important court action involving attempts to segregate Negro pupils</a>.”</p>
<p>Local trustees often struggled to find certified educators to teach Black children and many schools lacked the resources to meet provincial guidelines.</p>
<p>By the time <a href="https://www.turnerconsultinggroup.ca/uploads/2/9/5/6/29562979/policy_brief_-_no_1_may_2019.pdf">Wilson Brooks</a> was hired as the first <a href="https://www.torontopubliclibrary.ca/detail.jsp?Entt=RDMDC-TSPA_0125601F&R=DC-TSPA_0125601F">Black educator in a Toronto public school</a> in 1952, Black students continued to face challenges in public schools as a direct consequence of these historical exclusions. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1126684454335000576"}"></div></p>
<p>The continuities of racial discrimination in Ontario’s education system remained pervasive into the 21st century as Black students faced limited access to equitable learning outcomes in Ontario schools. </p>
<p>Black educators, meanwhile, faced <a href="https://www.erudit.org/en/journals/onhistory/2015-v107-n1-onhistory03913/1050681ar/abstract">isolation and discrimination, while also creating strategies and practices of resistance</a>. </p>
<h2>Ongoing realities of racial injustice</h2>
<p>In the 2017 report, <a href="https://edu.yorku.ca/files/2017/04/Towards-Race-Equity-in-Education-April-2017.pdf">Towards Race Equity in Education,</a> researchers discovered that in comparison to white and other racialized students, Black students were less likely to be enrolled in academic streams in Toronto schools. In addition, Black students were twice as likely to drop out of school than other students. Black students were also under-represented in gifted programming and over-represented in basic-level programming throughout Ontario schools. </p>
<p>All of this meant that despite a growing push towards diverse education models in Ontario schools, curricula and teaching practices have been unable to create inclusive <a href="http://www.lorimer.ca/en/Book/905/Educating-African-Canadians.html">learning spaces for Black students</a>. That responsibility has often been left to the few Black teachers within Ontario schools, or community activists pushing for programming to address Black student engagement.</p>
<p>Recently, parents of children attending the Africentric Alternative School launched a <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/parents-launch-petition-toronto-africentric-alternative-school-1.5730883">petition after discovering that virtual learning would be unavailable to students at the school during the COVID-19 pandemic</a>. While most Toronto District School Board institutions created options for online learning during the pandemic, this option was not available for alternative schools, leading to calls to action by community members. In addition, fluctuating enrolment at the school has led to increasing funding restrictions reminiscent of the separate schools of the 1850s. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/381818/original/file-20210201-13-1g0n3ld.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://theconversation.com/ca/podcasts">Click here to listen to Don’t Call Me Resilient</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The current debates surrounding Black access to education reflect the realities of racial injustice embedded in our schools. Ultimately, the Common School Act of 1850 was one of many policies that left Black students disadvantaged throughout Canadian school systems. </p>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/ead87c71-07ea-4f35-bded-948e7f703681?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321534/original/file-20200319-22606-q84y3k.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=182&fit=crop&dpr=1" alt="Listen on Apple Podcasts" width="268" height="68"></a>
<a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7"><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321535/original/file-20200319-22606-1l4copl.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=183&fit=crop&dpr=1" width="268" height="70"></a></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/147633/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Funké Aladejebi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>An 1850 act permitted the creation of separate schools for Protestants, Catholics and for any five Black families. Some white people used the act to force Black students into separate institutions.Funké Aladejebi, Assistant Professor, Department of History, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1496922021-01-27T14:28:59Z2021-01-27T14:28:59ZListen to ‘Don’t Call Me Resilient’: Our podcast about race<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/380452/original/file-20210125-17-1qo4pw7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=12%2C32%2C4280%2C2825&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fists raised in solidarity for George Floyd in Charlotte, N.C.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://unsplash.com/photos/qT7fZVbDcqE">(Unsplash/Clay Banks)</a></span></figcaption></figure><iframe height="480px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/fb609e39-d729-4a54-860a-8a411be157ae?dark=true&show=true"></iframe>
<p>Today, we are launching <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em>, a new podcast about race and racism.</p>
<p>If you’ve struggled with how to understand what is going on around you when it comes to race and racism and how and why it matters, our new podcast, <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em>, can help with that. </p>
<p>Resilient is a beautiful word and yet, as our podcast title says, don’t call me that. Why? </p>
<p>I’ve read and heard many hopeful stories over the past year about people being resilient in the face of adversity. With millions of tragic deaths due to COVID-19 worldwide, as well as job losses, illness and the psychological impact of a racial reckoning, many people are dealing with trauma in resilient ways.</p>
<p>We should always celebrate resilience: the human ability to recover or adjust to difficult conditions. But for many marginalized people, including Black, Indigenous and racialized people, being labelled resilient — especially by policy-makers — has other implications. The focus on resilience and applauding people for being resilient makes it too easy for policy-makers to avoid looking for real solutions. </p>
<p>Our society is marked by <a href="https://theconversation.com/unmasking-the-racial-politics-of-the-coronavirus-pandemic-139011">deep systemic divides</a> and many are recognizing this fact in new ways. People of colour have to deal with racism every day — <a href="https://theconversation.com/microaggressions-arent-just-innocent-blunders-new-research-links-them-with-racial-bias-145894">be it microaggressions at work</a> or <a href="https://theconversation.com/beware-of-bias-training-addressing-systemic-racism-is-not-an-easy-fix-142587">the larger impacts of systemic racism</a> that can create life and death situations. These issues are constant. And the only way to survive is to be resilient.</p>
<p>In response to President Barack Obama’s call to be resilient after the devastating impact of the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill, activist and lawyer <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4itfAVq19U&ab_channel=AlJazeeraEnglish%22%22">Tracie Washington told Al Jazeera’s <em>Fault Lines</em></a>: “Stop calling me resilient…. Because every time you say, ‘Oh, they’re resilient,’ that means you can do something else to me. I am not resilient.” </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0956247816684763">Maria Kaika</a> at the University of Manchester picked up on that discussion:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“If we took Tracie Washington’s objection seriously, we would stop focusing on how to make citizens more resilient ‘no matter what stresses they encounter,’ as this would only mean that they can take more suffering, deprivation or environmental degradation in the future … focus instead on [trying] to change these factors.…”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Today, we are launching <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em>, a new podcast about race and racism in which we discuss solutions in the way Washington and Kaika are suggesting. We take listeners deep into conversations with scholars and activists who view the world through an anti-racist lens. </p>
<p>We explore these critical issues — from dealing with the pain of racism, to inequity in our schools, to Indigenous land rights — in a way that is intimate, authentic and at times, uncomfortable. Instead of calling those who’ve survived the pain of systemic racism “resilient,” this podcast goes in search of solutions for those things no one should have to be resilient for.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman stands at a police barrier on the street. Two white police offers in the background." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/380890/original/file-20210127-17-6kdlu2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Vinita Srivastava, host of ‘Don’t Call Me Resilient’ has been a journalist for over 20 years: here she is reporting from New York City, in the mid-‘90s.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In our trailer, I refer to myself as Sister Killjoy: I first read this term in Ama Ata Aidoo’s novel, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/17449857808588504"><em>Our Sister Killjoy</em></a>. </p>
<h2>Listen wherever you get your podcasts</h2>
<p>The first episode of <em>Don’t Call Me Resilient</em> went live on Feb. 3, 2021. You can listen to all of the episodes or subscribe on <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/dont-call-me-resilient/id1549798876">Apple Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5zaW1wbGVjYXN0LmNvbS9qZFg0Ql9DOA">Google Podcasts</a>, <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/37tK4zmjWvq2Sh6jLIpzp7">Spotify</a> or <a href="https://dont-call-me-resilient.simplecast.com/">wherever you listen to your favourite podcasts</a>. <a href="mailto:theculturedesk@theconversation.com">We’d love to hear from you</a>, including any ideas for future episodes. Join The Conversation on <a href="https://twitter.com/ConversationCA">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheConversationCanada">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/theconversationdotcom/">Instagram</a> and use #DontCallMeResilient.</p>
<iframe height="200px" width="100%" frameborder="no" scrolling="no" seamless="" src="https://player.simplecast.com/a184135b-bffb-4837-93b9-fbec5c3e8e1e?dark=true"></iframe>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-572" class="tc-infographic" height="100" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/572/661898416fdc21fc4fdef6a5379efd7cac19d9d5/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<h2>Season 1: Race 101</h2>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-call-me-resilient-a-new-podcast-from-the-conversation-149692"><strong>Season 1 Trailer: Don’t Call Me Resilient</strong></a>
Don’t Call Me Resilient is a provocative new podcast about race from The Conversation. Host Vinita Srivastava takes you deep into conversations with scholars and activists who view the world, its problems, and the way forward through an anti-racist lens. Instead of calling those who have survived the pain of systemic racism “resilient,” this podcast goes in search of solutions for the things no one should have to be resilient for.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/whats-in-a-word-how-to-confront-150-years-of-racial-stereotypes-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-1-153790"><strong>EP 1: What’s in a word? How to confront 150 years of racial stereotypes</strong></a>
We keep hearing stories about white and non-Black people – including academics – somehow thinking it’s ok to use the n-word. Ryerson University Professor Cheryl Thompson, author of ‘Uncle: Race, Nostalgia and the Politics of Loyalty,’ joins us to discuss how North American society spent the last 150 years creating racist stereotypes and language, how they continue to persist today – and what we might do to help stop it.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-deal-with-the-pain-of-racism-and-become-a-better-advocate-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-2-154631"><strong>EP 2: How to deal with the pain of racism – and become a better advocate</strong></a>
A global protest movement calling for an end to racism and police brutality sparked new conversations about race. But it also surfaced a lot of pain for those who deal daily with racism. Where do we go from here? The writer, activist and Zen priest Reverend angel Kyodo williams speaks about the pain of racism, and how she uses meditation to combat it – and become a stronger anti-racist activist in America today.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-spark-change-within-our-unequal-education-system-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-3-152355"><strong>EP 3: How to spark change within our unequal education system</strong></a>
Even before COVID-19, education experts were sounding the alarm about the future of racialized children in our schools. And the COVID-19 pandemic has only underscored – even deepened – the divide. Carl James, professor of education at York University and Kulsoom Anwer, a high school teacher who works out of one of Toronto’s most marginalized neighborhoods, Jane and Finch, join us to discuss the injustices and inequalities in the education system – and the way forward.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-we-treat-migrant-workers-who-put-food-on-our-tables-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-4-153275"><strong>EP 4: How we treat migrant workers who put food on our tables</strong></a>
Documentary filmmaker and OCAD University associate professor Min Sook Lee has been documenting the voices of migrant farm workers in Canada for two decades. What she has to say about how these workers have been treated during COVID-19 shatters any remaining myths about “Canada the Good.” How do we treat the workers that put food on our tables?</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/black-health-matters-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-5-155950"><strong>EP 5: Black health matters</strong></a>
When COVID-19 first appeared, some said it was the great equalizer. But the facts quickly revealed a grim reality: COVID-19 disproportionately impacts Black, Indigenous, poor and racialized communities. Roberta K. Timothy, assistant professor at the Dalla Lana School of Public Health at the University of Toronto, joins us to talk about her global research project, Black Health Matters, and why racial justice is a public health matter.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-land-defenders-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-6-156632"><strong>EP 6: Indigenous land defenders</strong></a>
Two Indigenous land defenders join us to explain why they work to protect land against invasive development and why their work is necessary for everyone’s survival. Ellen Gabriel, a human rights activist and artist well known for her role as a spokesperson during the 1990 Oka crisis, and Anne Spice, a professor at Ryerson University, discuss the importance and urgency of defending land.</p>
<h2>Season 2</h2>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-stories-about-alternate-worlds-can-help-us-imagine-a-better-future-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-7-165933"><strong>EP 7: How stories about alternate worlds can help us imagine a better future: Don’t Call Me Resilient</strong></a>
Stories are a powerful tool to resist oppressive situations. They give writers from marginalized communities a way to imagine alternate realities, and to critique the one we live in. In this episode, Vinita speaks to two storytellers who offer up wonderous “otherworlds” for Indigenous and Black people. Selwyn Seyfu Hinds is an L.A-based screenwriter who wrote for Jordan Peele’s The Twilight Zone and is currently writing the screenplay for Esi Edugyan’s Washington Black. Daniel Heath Justice is professor and Canada Research Chair in Indigenous literature and expressive culture at the University of British Columbia.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/stolen-identities-what-does-it-mean-to-be-indigenous-dont-call-me-resilient-podcast-ep-8-166248"><strong>EP 8: Stolen identities: What does it mean to be Indigenous?</strong></a>
Over the last few years, we’ve seen a lot of high-profile figures accused of falsely claiming Indigenous identity, of being “Pretendians.” These cases have become big news stories, but they have big real-life consequences, too. Misidentifying as Indigenous can have financial and social consequences, with the misdirection of funds, jobs or grants meant for Indigenous peoples. Vinita delves into it all with two researchers who look at identity and belonging in Indigenous communities: Veldon Coburn from the University of Ottawa and Celeste Pedri-Spade from Queen’s University.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/model-minority-blues-the-mental-health-consequences-of-being-a-model-citizen-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-9-166620"><strong>EP 9: Model minority blues: The mental health consequences of being a model citizen</strong></a>
The pandemic has taken a toll on our collective mental health. But according to a recent Statistics Canada report, South Asians reported a steeper decline than any other diaspora in Canada. Why? The idea of being a model minority — of having to live up to exacting high standards — is a big part of it. Two long-time researchers and activists join Vinita for an intimate conversation about that and other reasons why South Asians are struggling so badly, and what can be done about it. Maneet Chahal is co-founder of SOCH, one of the few mental health organizations specifically for South Asians. Satwinder Bains is the director of the South Asian Studies Institute and professor of social cultural media studies at the University of the Fraser Valley.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/being-watched-mass-surveillance-amplifies-racist-policing-and-threatens-the-right-to-protest-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-10-167522"><strong>EP 10: Being Watched: How surveillance amplifies racist policing and threatens the right to protest</strong></a>
Many of us know our personal data is being collected online and used against us – to get us to buy certain things or vote a certain way. But for marginalized communities, the collection of data and photos has much bigger implications. Vinita is joined by two researchers who are calling for new protections for the most vulnerable populations. Yuan Stevens is the Policy Lead in the Technology, Cybersecurity and Democracy Programme at the Ryerson Leadership Lab and Wendy Hui Kyong Chun is professor and Canada 150 Research Chair in new media at Simon Fraser University.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-pollution-is-as-much-about-colonialism-as-chemicals-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-11-170696"><strong>EP 11: Why pollution is as much about colonialism as chemicals</strong></a>.
The state of our environment just keeps getting scarier and scarier, yet it feels like we have yet to find a way forward. Two Indigenous scholars who run labs to address the climate crisis say bringing an Indigenous understanding to environmental justice could help us get unstuck. A big part of that is seeing pollution through a new lens – one that acknowledges it is as much about racism and colonialism as it is toxic chemicals. Vinita talks to Michelle Murphy, Professor and Canada Research Chair in science and technology studies and leader at the University of Toronto’s Environmental Data Justice Lab. Also joining is Max Liboiron, author of Pollution is Colonialism, and associate professor in geography at Memorial University of Newfoundland.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/making-our-food-fairer-dont-call-me-resilient-ep-12-171554">EP 12: Making our food fairer </a></strong>
One out of every eight households in Canada is food insecure. For racialized Canadians, that number is higher – two to three times the national average. In this episode, Vinita asks what is happening with our food systems, and what we can do to make them fairer with two women who have been tackling this issue for years. Melana Roberts is Chair of Food Secure Canada and one of the leaders behind Canada’s first Black food sovereignty plan. Also joining the conversation is Tabitha Robin Martens, assistant professor at UBC’s Faculty of Land and Food Systems. Martens researches Indigenous food sovereignty and works with Cree communities to bolster traditional land uses.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/will-smiths-oscar-slap-reveals-fault-lines-as-he-defends-jada-pinkett-smith-against-chris-rock-podcast-180280"><strong>Bonus EP 13 Will Smith’s Oscar slap reveals fault lines as he defends Jada Pinkett against Chris Rock</strong></a>
In this special edition, we chat with Cheryl Thompson, professor of performance about how “the slap heard around the world” is part of a layered story of racism, sexism, power and performance.</p>
<h2>Season 3: Refusal and resistance</h2>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/unmarked-graves-of-215-indigenous-children-were-found-in-kamloops-a-year-ago-whats-happened-since-podcast-182728"><strong>EP 14: Unmarked graves of 215 Indigenous children were found in Kamloops a year ago: What’s happened since?</strong></a>
It’s been a year since the unmarked graves of 215 Indigenous children— some of them as young as three years old—were found on the grounds of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School in British Columbia. In this episode, Vinita speaks to Veldon Coburn, assistant professor at the Institute of Indigenous Research and Studies at the University of Ottawa about what happened, the widespread grief and outcry and the immediate political response, but also, how none of that lasted despite communities continuing to find bodies. Joining Vinita on the episode is Haley Lewis, Don’t Call Me Resilient producer and culture and society editor at The Conversation Canada. Lewis is mixed Kanyen'keha:ká from Tyendinaga and led our coverage of the findings last year. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/niqab-bans-boost-hate-crimes-against-muslims-and-legalize-islamophobia-podcast-180012"><strong>EP 15 Niqab bans boost hate crimes against Muslims and legalize Islamophobia</strong></a>
Last year, as a Muslim Canadian family took their evening stroll during the lockdown in London, Ont., a white man rammed his pickup truck into them. Four of the five family members were killed. The incident sparked horror and outrage. But the truth is, anti-Muslim sentiment has been on the steady rise in the 20 years since 9/11. According to a report from July 2021 by the National Council of Canadian Muslims, more Muslims have been killed in Canada in targeted attacks and hate crimes than in any other G7 country. Our guest today says that instead of deterring anti-Muslim hate, Canadian laws are actually making it worse - in essence, legalizing Islamophobia. Natasha Bakht is an award-winning legal scholar who has spent the past five years researching the rise in anti-Muslim attitudes in North America. She is a professor in the faculty of law at the University of Ottawa and the author of In Your Face: Law, Justice, and Niqab Wearing Women in Canada.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/tiktok-is-more-than-just-a-frivolous-app-for-lip-syncing-and-dancing-podcast-182264"><strong>EP 16 TikTok is more than just a frivolous app for lip-synching and dancing</strong></a><br>
TikTok started off as a platform to create musical, lip-syncing and dance videos. And right now, it’s not just popular, it’s the most downloaded app in the world. It’s not just fun and games though: TikTok has also become a platform to learn and expose yourself to new ideas. As TikTok is helping its users build strong communities, it’s also important to explore how the app’s algorithm is treating marginalized folks and their stories. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/diamond-mines-are-not-a-girls-best-friend-podcast-183972"><strong>EP 17: Diamond mines are not a girl’s best friend</strong></a>
When you think diamonds, you probably think of romance, weddings and Valentine’s Day. And it’s no accident we think this way: A century of marketing has convinced us that diamonds symbolize love. In Canada, glossy magazine ads celebrate the “purity” of Northern Canadian diamonds as an ethical alternative to conflict diamonds. And Canada has become the third-largest diamond producer in the world. But this marketing strategy hides enormous social problems that people living near the mines say they’ve experienced. This includes some of Canada’s highest rates of violence against women. The story our guests tell today is not one of numbers. Instead, they’re sharing narratives gathered and collected through interviews and sharing circles about how lives have changed after the mines opened. Our guests today are: Rebecca Hall, assistant professor of Global Development Studies at Queen’s University and the author of Refracted Economies: Diamond Mining and Social Reproduction in the North and Della Green, former Victim Services Coordinator, at The Native Women’s Association of the Northwest Territories</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-you-shouldnt-be-afraid-of-critical-race-theory-podcast-183973"><strong>EP 18 Why you shouldn’t be afraid of Critical Race Theory</strong></a>
Today we explore how applying critical race theory in classrooms across Canada helps both students and teachers. Teresa Fowler, assistant professor of Education at Concordia University of Edmonton joins us. So does Dwayne Brown, a PhD student in Education at York University, and a grade seven teacher with the Toronto District School Board. Both Brown and Fowler use critical race theory in their classrooms every day, and say that it helps them to see and evaluate their own biases—while also making students feel truly included in their own education.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-powerful-sounds-of-protest-amplify-resistance-podcast-182263"><strong>EP 19 The powerful sounds of protest amplify voices of resistance</strong></a>
How can a convo about marginalized voices and soundscapes of resistance amplify voices of resistance? How do sonic media practitioners use the practice of field recording as a form of protest and resistance. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/has-the-meaning-behind-the-canadian-flag-changed-podcast-183974"><strong>EP 20 Has the meaning behind the Canadian flag changed?</strong></a>
As we approach Canada Day — and the prospect of the return of “freedom” protests in Ottawa — let’s consider the meaning and symbolism of the Canadian flag. After weeks of the so-called freedom convoy last winter, many of us took a hard look at the symbolism of the Canadian flag and its recent association with white supremacy. Some felt a new fear or anger at what they feel the flag represents. But other communities have always felt this way about the Canadian flag. Other movements like Resistance150, Idle No More, Pride and Black Lives Matter have also raised awareness about challenges to Canadian nationalism and belonging. Both of our guests have studied multiculturalism, citizenship and belonging. Daniel McNeil looks at history and culture and the complexities of global Black communities. He is a professor and Queen’s National Scholar Chair in Black Studies at Queen’s University. Lucy El-Sherif is a PhD candidate at the University of Toronto in ethnic and pluralism studies. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/about-the-queen-and-the-crowns-crimes-or-how-to-talk-about-the-unmourned-podcast-191141"><strong>Bonus EP 21: About the Queen, the Crown’s crimes and how to talk about the unmourned</strong> </a>
In the middle of the tremendous outpouring of love and grief for the Queen and the monarchy she represented, not everyone wants to take a moment of silence. And there are a lot of reasons why.</p>
<h2>Season 4: Challenges and hope</h2>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-unfairness-of-the-climate-crisis-podcast-192469"><strong>EP 22 The unfairness of the climate crisis</strong></a>
Western industries and governments have refused to accept responsibility for climate change despite being the main drivers of it. Meanwhile, the Global South and Black and Indigenous communities globally have continued to bear the brunt of its impact. As world leaders gather in Egypt for COP27 — the United Nations Climate Change Conference — will this inequity finally be addressed? Join Vinita and Yvonne Su, Assistant Professor in the Department of Equity Studies at York University, to discuss our responsibilities towards those worst affected by climate change. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-isnt-anyone-talking-about-who-gets-long-covid-podcast-191659"><strong>EP 23 Why isn’t anyone talking about <em>who</em> gets long COVID?</strong></a>
Long COVID has been called a mass-disabling event. It hits one in every five people, and hits Black and Latinx women especially hard. Vinita dives into why that is - and why we’re not talking about it - with Margot Gage Witvliet, who has insights into long COVID both as a Black woman who has been suffering the effects of it, and as a social epidemiologist who studies it. Margot is an assistant professor at Lamar University in Beaumont, Texas. She has presented her long COVID findings to the United States Task Force on equity and COVID and runs an online support and advocacy group for BIPOC women living with long COVID.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-decolonize-journalism-podcast-192467"><strong>EP 24 How to decolonize journalism</strong></a>
For decades, Canadian media have covered Indigenous communities with a heavy reliance on stereotypes - casting Indigenous peoples as victims or warriors. This deep-seated bias in the news can have unsettling consequences for both how a community perceives itself as well as how others perceive them. Award-winning Anishinaabe journalist and longtime CBC reporter Duncan McCue is trying to change that both in the classroom and in the newsroom. He joins Vinita to talk about what Canadian media could be doing better.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-corporate-diversity-statements-are-backfiring-podcast-190726"><strong>EP 25: Why corporate diversity statements are backfiring</strong></a>
Companies have amped up their rhetoric about equity and inclusion, many churning out diversity statements. But Vinita’s guest today says their promises to promote anti-racist cultures without action plans can lead to greater blocks to success for racialized employees. Sonia Kang is an Associate Professor of Organizational Behaviour and Human Resources Management at the University of Toronto’s Rotman School of Management - and one of Canada’s leading experts on identity, diversity and inclusion in the workplace.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-can-we-slow-down-youth-gun-violence-podcast-194145">EP 26 How can we slow down youth gun violence?</a></strong>
In 2007, 15-year-old Jordan Manners became the first student to be shot and killed inside a Toronto school. Since then, youth violence hasn’t let up in Canada’s largest city. In fact, it’s getting worse. Devon Jones and Ardavan Eizadirad say it’s a major problem that needs a more holistic approach. Ardavan is an assistant professor in the Department of Education at Wilfrid Laurier University who studies the root causes of gun violence. He and Devon run Y.A.A.C.E. –a community organization started by Devon that tackles the root causes of youth gun violence in Toronto. They join Vinita to talk about what has been going wrong and how to get it right.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/whats-so-funny-about-race-podcast-192470">EP 27 What’s so funny about race?</a></strong>
A lot of comedians we know and love put race, ethnicity and cultural stereotypes at the centre of their comedy. This gives us - the audience - reason to laugh…and a way to release some of the tensions around race. Where is the line between a lighthearted joke and deep-rooted racism? And how far is too far? Vinita gets into it with Faiza Hirji, Associate Professor of Communication Studies and Media Arts at McMaster University and stand-up comedian Andrea Jin. They look at how comedy can be an easier way to talk about difficult issues,, and at how we can find a way to laugh with each other, rather than at each other. </p>
<h2>Season 5</h2>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/roxham-road-asylum-seekers-wont-just-get-turned-back-theyll-get-forced-underground-podcast-202699">EP 28 Roxham Road: Asylum seekers won’t just get turned back, they’ll get forced underground</a></strong>
Before the Safe Third Country Agreement, which was signed in 2002, shortly after the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the U.S., both countries could reject asylum seekers at official border crossings. But there was a small loophole that provided a slim window for people desperately looking for a way into Canada. People who crossed at unofficial border crossings could still claim asylum. In this episode, migration expert Christina Clark-Kazak explains the devastating consequences of last week’s meeting between United States President Joe Biden and Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. The meeting resulted in significant changes to a cross-border agreement and has already impacted the lives of thousands of asylum seekers attempting to make a life in Canada.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-vatican-just-renounced-a-500-year-old-doctrine-that-justified-colonial-land-theft-now-what-podcast-203229">EP 29 The Vatican just renounced a 500-year-old doctrine that justified colonial land theft … Now what?</a></strong>
The Vatican finally distanced itself from the Doctrine of Discovery — a hundreds of years old decree that justified land theft and enslavement of people who were not Christian. In this episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient, political and Indigenous studies scholar Veldon Coburn explains why the Vatican’s repudiation of the Doctrine is a huge symbolic victory. We also examine what this repudiation may mean for members of Indigenous Nations, what prompted this renouncement, and what still needs to happen.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/fast-fashion-why-garment-workers-lives-are-still-in-danger-10-years-after-rana-plaza-podcast-203122">EP 30 Fast Fashion: Why garment workers’ lives are still in danger 10 years after Rana Plaza</a></strong>
Ten years ago this month, much attention turned to the global garment industry when a group of garment factories collapsed at Rana Plaza near Dhaka, Bangladesh. The accident, called a “mass industrial homicide” by unions in Bangladesh, killed 1,124 people and injured at least 2,500 more. Most of the people who went to work that day were young women, almost all were supporting families with their wages and all were at the bottom of the global production chain. This week on Don’t Call Me Resilient, we look back at the Rana Plaza disaster to explore how much — or how little — has changed for garment worker conditions since.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/will-the-brilliance-of-netflixs-beef-be-lost-in-the-shadow-of-a-sexual-assault-controversy-podcast-203321">EP 31 Will the brilliance of Netflix’s ‘Beef’ be lost in the shadow of a sexual assault controversy?</a></strong>
Beef is a dark comedy series created by Lee Sung Jin. It follows two L.A. strangers, courageously played by Ali Wong and Steven Yeun, who get into a road rage incident — and end up in an escalating feud. But over the weekend, a Twitter storm erupted after a podcast episode featuring supporting actor David Choe resurfaced. In the 2014 podcast, Choe vividly relays a sexual assault story where he is the perpetrator. Choe has apologized since and has also said the story was made up. This week on Don’t Call Me Resilient, Michelle Cho, an assistant professor of East Asian Studies at the University of Toronto and Bianca Mabute-Louie, a PhD student in Sociology at Rice University; join Vinita to explore the advances Beef has made in television, the limits of those advancements and ask whether the brilliance of Beef will be overshadowed by Choe’s controversial history.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/what-the-crown-jewels-tell-us-about-exploitation-and-the-quest-for-reparations-podcast-204000">EP 32 What the Crown Jewels tell us about exploitation and the quest for reparations</a></strong>
Much of what was called the British Empire was built from stolen riches — globally — and much of that was from India. In fact, India was such an abundant contributor to the Crown that at the time of its occupation of South Asia, Britain called India the Jewel in its Crown. India was called this because of its location — easy access to the silk route, but mostly because of its vast human and natural resources: things like cotton, and tea and of course its abundance of jewels. Joining Vinita to explore the history and meaning behind these jewels is Annie St. John-Stark, assistant professor of British history at Thompson Rivers University and Sharanjit Kaur Sandhra, instructor of history at both the University of the Fraser Valley and the University of British Columbia. </p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/will-a-un-resolution-to-commemorate-the-expulsion-of-palestinians-from-their-lands-change-the-narrative-listen-204799">EP 33 Will a UN resolution to commemorate the expulsion of Palestinians from their lands change the narrative?</a></strong>
Seventy-six years ago, starting on May 15, Palestinians were driven off their land. This event is what Palestinians have come to refer to as the Nakba. In Arabic, Nakba means catastrophe. The UN’s recent resolution to recognize Nakba Day on May 15, to mark the anniversary of the expulsion of Palestinians from their homes in 1948, helps to acknowledge past traumas but does the resolution have other implications? On this week’s episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient, we meet up with M. Muhannad Ayyash, professor of sociology at Mount Royal University in Calgary to help unpack some of the meanings behind this resolution.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/more-than-60-per-cent-of-incarcerated-women-are-mothers-listen-204020">EP 34 More than 60 per cent of incarcerated women are mothers</a></strong>
Mother’s Day is just a few days away. It can be a complicated day. For some, it could mean a bouquet of flowers or a breakfast in bed. For others, it can mean mourning the loss of a loved one or dealing with a haunted past. And still — for others — like the 66 per cent of incarcerated women in prison who are mothers, it can mean something else entirely. On this episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient, we are joined by Rai Reece, professor at Toronto Metropolitan University who researches prisons and feminist criminology. Lorraine Pinnock also joins us. She is the Ontario Coordinator for the Walls to Bridges program which helps women with education when transitioning out of the system. </p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/decolonize-your-garden-this-long-weekend-dig-into-the-complicated-roots-of-gardening-listen-205720">EP 35 Decolonize your garden: This long weekend, dig into the complicated roots of gardening</a></strong>
The May long weekend is the unofficial start of summer. And for those of you with home gardens or access to community space, this is the weekend to dust off your gardening tools and visit the garden centre for the growing season ahead. As we approach the start of gardening season, it’s good time to ask some questions about its origins. In this episode we explore the complicated roots of the garden, including who gets to garden. We also discuss practical tips about what to plant with an eye to Indigenous knowledge. We speak with researcher Jacqueline L. Scott and also chat with community activist, Carolynne Crawley, who leads workshops that integrate Indigenous teachings into practice.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-a-5th-generation-new-yorker-traces-her-family-history-and-finds-the-roots-of-anti-asian-violence-and-asian-resistance-204721">EP 36 A 5th generation New Yorker traces her family history and finds the roots of anti-Asian violence – and Asian resistance</a></strong>
<em>Mott Street: A Chinese American Family’s Story of Exclusion and Homecoming</em> artfully explores themes of exclusion as it relates to all Chinese Americans. These themes resonate personally for the author Ava Chin, with her father a “crown prince” of Chinatown that she didn’t meet until adulthood. Chin reveals personal family stories against the backdrop of the U.S. eugenics movement and draws a connecting line between the current rise in violence against Asians in North America and anti-immigration laws more than 100 years old. In this episode, author and CUNY professor Ava Chin, a 5th generation Chinese New Yorker, discusses her new book.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-trans-scholar-and-activist-explains-why-trans-rights-are-under-attack-206259">EP 37 Trans scholar and activist explains why trans rights are under attack</a></strong>
Lately we’ve seen an aggressive push to implement anti-trans legislation across the United States. What do things look like in Canada? Are we a safe haven or are we following some of the same trends? Recently, a petition signed by over 160,000 people asked the Canadian government to extend asylum to trans and gender non-conforming people from nations in the West, previously considered safe. To get a better understanding of trans histories in Canada, we are joined by Syrus Marcus Ware, an artist, activist and assistant professor at the School of the Arts at McMaster University. He is a co-curator of Blockorama/Blackness Yes! and a co-editor of Until We Are Free: Reflections on Black Lives Matter in Canada.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-indian-pm-modi-is-expected-to-get-a-rockstar-welcome-in-the-u-s-how-much-is-the-diaspora-fuelling-him-206260">EP 38 Indian PM Modi is expected to get a rockstar welcome in the U.S. How much is the diaspora fuelling him?</a></strong>
On June 22, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi made his first official state visit to the United States. And if his visits to Australia last month, to Canada in 2015 and to Texas in 2019 were any indication, he was given a rockstar welcome. U.S. President Joe Biden had already joked that he wanted Modi’s autograph because so many people want to see the Indian PM while he’s in the United States. In this episode, Anjali Arondekar, professor of feminist studies at the University of California, Santa Cruz joins the podcast to answer important questions about Modi’s support. We are asking how important is that diaspora? With India having one of the highest remittance rates in the world, how much does overseas support contribute to Modi’s popularity and success? And what kind of an impact could a progressive element of that diaspora have on Indian politics?</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-why-preserving-indigenous-languages-is-so-critical-to-culture-204348">EP 39 Why preserving Indigenous languages is so critical to culture</a></strong>
Language is much more than a way to communicate with words. This is especially true if you have had your language forcibly removed from you, like the thousands of Indigenous children who survived Canada’s colonial assimilation project. Languages hold within them philosophies, worldviews, culture and identity. As we look ahead to National Indigenous Peoples Day, guest host Prof. Veldon Coburn speaks with Prof. Frank Deer, Canada Research Chair and associate dean of Indigenous Education at the University of Manitoba to tackle the issue of disappearing Indigenous languages and delve into how much more needs to be done to revitalize them and why doing so is critical.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-widespread-use-of-ozempic-for-weight-loss-could-change-how-we-view-fatness-206457">EP 40 Widespread use of Ozempic for weight loss could change how we view fatness</a></strong>
It seems like everywhere you look these days, on TikTok, on the sides of buses, in news headlines, you see Ozempic, the drug originally created as a diabetes treatment, but now being used as a weight-loss method. While Ozempic may just be the next in a long line of get-thin-quick fads, it’s already causing a lot of issues, many of which are especially felt by racialized communities. As the use of Ozempic, a drug for diabetes, slams into the mainstream as a weight-loss method, Fat and disability studies professor Fady Shanouda, who examines anti-fat bias in medicine looks into the drug’s use impact our concept of fatness, how fatness intersects with race and class and how the craze for Ozempic deepen racial and class disparities?</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/listen-indiana-joness-last-ride-a-legacy-to-celebrate-or-bury-208557">EP 41 Indiana Jones’s last ride: A legacy to celebrate or bury?</a></strong>
As the Indiana Jones series comes to an end, we explore Indy’s complicated legacy — and his famous line: “it belongs in a museum.” Will Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny reflect the changes in anthropology departments and the growing movements from Indigenous and Global South communities to return stolen objects and ancestors from western museums? Will it consider that Eurocentric notions of what holds heritage has finally expanded beyond the artifact? Historian Christopher Heaney professor of Latin American History at Penn State University joins Vinita to unpack everything Indiana Jones.</p>
<h2>Season 6</h2>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/inside-the-search-for-the-unmarked-graves-of-children-lost-to-indian-residential-schools-214437">EP 42 Inside the search for the unmarked graves of children lost to Indian Residential Schools</a></strong>
More than 150,000 Indigenous children from across Canada were forced to attend Indian Residential Schools. And as we know, many never made it home.Now, there are ongoing efforts to find the final resting places of those missing children.As we approach the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, we take you inside the ongoing quest to document the children who died in Canada’s Indian Residential Schools system. On this episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient, we speak to Terri Cardinal, director of Indigenous initiatives at MacEwan University, about the work she did to uncover the unmarked graves of those who died at the Blue Quills Residential School in Alberta.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-are-brown-and-black-people-supporting-the-far-right-214800">EP 43 Why are brown and Black people supporting the far right?</a></strong>
But at last week’s GOP primary presidential debates, three of the seven people on stage were candidates of colour. Racialized citizens also have been drawn to far-right politics, including key players in the Jan. 6 insurrection at the United States Capitol and recent racist attacks. Which begs the question: Why are racialized people upholding white supremacist ideologies that work against them? Daniel Martinez HoSang, a professor of Ethnicity, Race and Migration and American Studies at Yale University, has been exploring this question for a long time. He is the author with Joseph Lowndes of Producers, Parasites, Patriots, Race, and the New Right Wing Politics of Precarity. HoSang sat down with us to discuss what they call the politics of multicultural white supremacy.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/detangling-the-roots-and-health-risks-of-hair-relaxers-215413">EP 44 Detangling the roots and health risks of hair relaxers
</a></strong>
For decades, Black women have been using hair relaxers to help them “fit into” global mainstream workplaces and the European standards of beauty that continue to dominate them. More recently, research has linked these relaxers to cancer and reproductive health issues — and a spate of lawsuits across the United States, and at least one in Canada, have been brought by Black women against the makers of these relaxants.
In this reflective and personal episode of Don’t Call Me Resilient, Prof. Cheryl Thompson of Toronto Metropolitan University and author of Beauty in a Box untangles the wending history of hair relaxers for Black women — and the health risks now linked to them.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-corporate-landlords-are-eroding-affordable-housing-and-prioritizing-profits-over-human-rights-215582">EP 45 How corporate landlords are eroding affordable housing — and prioritizing profits over human rights</a></strong>
One factor driving the housing crisis across the country is a shift away from publicly built housing toward large corporate-owned buildings where, as today’s guest Prof. Nemoy Lewis puts it, “housing is treated as a commodity, not a human right.” For many people living in Canada, housing has emerged as one of the most challenging issues. This is especially true in our largest cities, where financial stress plagues many households. Today’s guest, Prof. Nemoy Lewis from the School of Urban and Regional Planning at Toronto Metropolitan University, discusses the disproportionate impacts these corporate landlords are having on Black and low-income communities — in income-polarized cities that are increasingly accessible to only a small group of wealthy people.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-the-israel-gaza-conflict-is-so-hard-to-talk-about-216149">EP 46 Why the Israel-Gaza conflict is so hard to talk about</a></strong>
It’s hard to escape the horrific images coming out of the Middle East. And it’s excruciating to take it all in. Many of us have been left with a feeling of helplessness as we watch in horror. For others, this witnessing has brought personal anguish, especially for those with ties to the region. On Don’t Call Me Resilient, our two guests today - Natalie Rothman, a professor of historical and cultural studies at the University of Toronto Scarborough who grew up in Israel and Norma Rantisi, professor of geography and urban planning at Concordia University who has done work in the region and has family in the West Bank - both say our institutions need to make room for a true dialogue. One where decolonization is not a bad word. They say a contextual, historical analysis is crucial to moving forward — both at home and abroad.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/how-journalists-tell-buffy-sainte-maries-story-matters-explained-by-a-60s-scoop-survivor-216805">EP 47 How journalists tell Buffy Sainte-Marie’s story matters — explained by a ’60s Scoop survivor</a></strong>
Last week, a CBC investigation accused Buffy Sainte-Marie, the legendary singer-songwriter, of lying about her Indigenous roots. Sainte-Marie had already come out on social media ahead of the story and explained she had been claimed by the Piapot Cree First Nation in Saskatchewan. And from earlier conversations on the Don’t Call Me Resilient podcast as well as articles written by expert scholars about so-called “pretendians” — those faking an Indigenous identity — I knew kinship ties were maybe even more important than genealogy tests when it comes to establishing Indigeneity. Lori Campbell, a ’60s Scoop survivor and a VP at the University of Regina, challenges the CBC’s motives in their exposé on the questionable Indigenous roots of Buffy Sainte-Marie, legendary singer-songwriter.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/state-of-georgia-using-extreme-legal-measures-to-quell-cop-city-dissenters-216482">EP 48 State of Georgia using extreme legal measures to quell ‘Cop City’ dissenters</a></strong>
Earlier this week, nearly five dozen people appeared in a courtroom near Atlanta to answer criminal racketeering and domestic terrorism charges brought against them by the state. The charges are related to what’s commonly known as “Cop City,” a $90-million paramilitary police and firefighter training facility planned for 85 acres of forest near Atlanta. Georgia prosecutors are calling the demonstrators “militant anarchists.” But many of those charged say they were simply attending a rally or a concert in support of the Stop Cop City movement. In this episode, we speak with Kamau Franklin, a long-time community organizer and the founder of Community Movement Builders. Also joining us is Zohra Ahmed, assistant professor of law at the University of Georgia. A former public defender in New York, she, too, has been watching this case closely.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/palestine-was-never-a-land-without-a-people-217765">EP 49 Palestine was never a ‘land without a people’</a></strong>
Some of us assume that the violence between Jewish Israelis and Palestinians — a majority of whom are Muslim — is a religious conflict, but a closer look at the history of the last century reveals that the root of the tension between the two communities is more complicated than that. At its root, it’s a conflict between two communities that claim the right to the same land. For millions of Palestinians, it’s about displacement from that land. Modern settlers to Palestine viewed the desert as something they needed to “make bloom.” But it already was, thanks to the long history of Palestinian agricultural systems.
Our guests on this episode have been working on a film about the importance of preserving Palestinian agriculture and food in exile. Elizabeth Vibert, a professor of colonial history at University of Victoria and Salam Guenette is the consulting producer and cultural and language translator for their documentary project. </p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-potential-of-psychedelics-to-heal-our-racial-traumas-218233">EP 50 The potential of psychedelics to heal our racial traumas
</a></strong>
Judging from the colourful signs advertising mushrooms that we are seeing on our streets and the presence of psychedelics in pop culture, we are in the middle of a psychedelic renaissance. For example, in the TV program Transplant, a Syrian Canadian doctor experiencing trauma is treated by his psychiatrist with psilocybin therapy. On a more official front, the Canadian Senate recommended the federal government fast-track a research program into how psychedelics can help veterans suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). PTSD covers a range of issues, including racial trauma, which is the conversation Vinita has with Clinical psychologist and professor Monnica Williams.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-are-school-aged-boys-so-attracted-to-hateful-ideologies-218700">EP 51 Why are school-aged boys so attracted to hateful ideologies?</a></strong>
Anecdotally, and in polls conducted by Angus Reid and the Girl Guides of Canada, school-aged children are expressing concern about the sexist, homophobic and racist attitudes they are experiencing in their classrooms. And the research supports them: experts say the rise in far-right ideologies globally has impacted school-age students.Teresa Fowler of Concordia University of Edmonton and Lance McCready of University of Toronto look at the current rise of white supremacy and how that rise has filtered down into the attitudes of school-aged boys.</p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/dear-politicians-to-solve-our-food-bank-crisis-curb-corporate-greed-and-implement-a-basic-income-219086">EP 52 Dear politicians: To solve our food bank crisis, curb corporate greed and implement a basic income</a></strong>
Have you noticed the line ups for the food banks in your city? (Or have you had to join one?) They are getting longer in a way we’ve never seen before. According to the stats, the number of people using food banks has doubled since last year and one in 10 people now rely on food banks in Toronto. Our guest on this episode is Elaine Power, professor of health studies at Queen’s University and co-author of The Case for Basic Income: Freedom, Security, Justice. She has spent years working on this issue and says reducing food insecurity requires our political and business leaders to address the root causes — including the ability of household incomes to meet basic needs. </p>
<p><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/american-fiction-is-a-scathing-satire-that-challenges-pop-culture-stereotypes-of-blackness-217988">EP 53 ‘American Fiction’ is a scathing satire that challenges pop-culture stereotypes of Blackness</a></strong>
The lead character of the new movie American Fiction is Monk. He’s a Black man but never feels ‘Black’ enough: he graduated from Harvard, his siblings are doctors, he doesn’t play basketball and he writes literary novels. Prof. Vershawn Ashanti Young of University of Waterloo and Prof. Anthony Stewart of Bucknell University join forces to break down the many layers of Monk’s story and why Black stereotypes remain so persistent in pop culture.</p>
<p><em>Season 6 credits: Vinita Srivastava is the host and executive producer. Our associate producer and audience development consultant is Ateqah Khaki. Our associate producer is Danielle Piper. Our assistant producer is Kikachi Memeh. Rehmatullah Sheikh is our sound editor. Our consulting producer is Jennifer Moroz. Theme music: Zaki Ibrahim, Something in the Water.</em></p>
<p><em>Season 5 credits: Vinita Srivastava is the host and executive producer. Our Associate Porducer and audience development consultant is Ateqah Khaki. Our assistant producer is Kikachi Memeh. Rehmatullah Sheikh is our sound editor. Our consulting producer is Jennifer Moroz. Theme music: Zaki Ibrahim, Something in the Water.</em></p>
<p><em>Season 4 credits: Vinita Srivastava is the host and executive producer. Our associate producer is Dannielle Piper. Our assistant producer is Rithika Shenoy. Rehmatullah Sheikh is our sound editor. Our audience development consultant is Ateqah Khaki. Our consulting producer is Jennifer Moroz. Theme music: Zaki Ibrahim, Something in the Water.</em></p>
<p><em>Season 3 credits: Vinita Srivastava is the host and producer. Our coproducer and audio editor is Lygia Navarro. Reza Daya is our sound designer. Our consulting producer is Jennifer Moroz. Vaishanavi Dandekar is an assistant proudcer. Lisa Varano is our audience development editor and Scott White is the CEO of The Conversation Canada. Theme music: Zaki Ibrahim, Something in the Water.</em></p>
<p><em>Season 2 credits: Vinita Srivastava is the host and producer. Our coproducer is Susana Ferreira. Our associate producer is Ibrahim Daair. Reza Dahya is our sound producer. Our consulting producer is Jennifer Moroz. Lisa Varano is our audience development editor and Scott White is the CEO of The Conversation Canada. Theme music: Zaki Ibrahim, Something in the Water.</em> </p>
<p><em>Season 1 credits: Our coproducer is Nahid Buie. Assistant producers are: Ibrahim Daair, Anowa Quarcoo, Latifa Abdin. Sound engineer: Reza Dahya. Audience development: Lisa Varano. Theme music by <a href="https://sixshooterrecords.com/artists/zaki-ibrahim/">Zaki Ibrahim</a>. Logo by Zoe Jazz. Our CEO is Scott White. Jennifer Moroz is our consulting producer. Launch team: Imriel Morgan/<a href="https://contentisqueen.org/">Content is Queen</a>.</em> </p>
<p><em>Don’t Call Me Resilient is a production of The Conversation Canada. This podcast was produced with a grant for Journalism Innovation from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.</em> </p>
<p><em>This is a corrected version of story originally published on Jan. 27. 2021. The earlier story said Tracie Washington’s words came in response to a post-Katrina environment strategy for the city of New Orleans. Instead, they were said in response to President Obama’s call for resilience after the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/149692/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
Don’t Call Me Resilient is a provocative podcast about race that goes in search of solutions for those things no one should have to be resilient for.Vinita Srivastava, Host + Producer, Don't Call Me ResilientLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1405272020-06-14T12:27:46Z2020-06-14T12:27:46ZWhy reparations and apologies to African Canadians are necessary<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341576/original/file-20200612-153832-73yqie.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C282%2C1421%2C547&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Women in front of YWCA’s Ontario House, 698 Ontario Street, ca. 1912
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/lac-bac/33999353020">Library Archives Canada/flickr</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In 2017, a three-member United Nations expert panel recommended the Government of Canada “issue an apology and consider providing reparations to African Canadians for enslavement and historical injustices.”</p>
<p>The panel had spent the previous year discussing Canada’s history of racism. They filed their findings in <a href="https://ansa.novascotia.ca/sites/default/files/files/report-of-the-working-group-of-experts-on-people-of-african-descent-on-its-mission-to-canada.pdf">a report to the UN Human Rights Council on people of African descent in Canada</a>. The report discussed African Canadians and issues such as the criminal justice system, health, education and housing.</p>
<p>On June 2, reporters asked Prime Minister Justin Trudeau whether he would act on the panel’s recommendation. <a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-trudeau-wont-say-whether-canada-will-apologize-for-history-of-slavery/">He evaded the question</a>.</p>
<h2>Slavery in Canada</h2>
<p>Slavery was legal in Canada until 1834, when Britain abolished slavery in all its territories. Canada did not have a slave-based plantation economy, but <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/black-enslavement">many people owned slaves</a>. These people included government and military officials, Loyalists, bishops, priests and nuns and tradesmen such as hotel keepers.</p>
<p>Even so, some argue that Canada should not pay reparations to all African Canadians. They might argue that most African Canadians are not descended from people enslaved in Canada. </p>
<p>Some African Canadians descended from people who escaped slavery in the United States by coming to Canada. Many are, or are descended from, immigrants to Canada from the Caribbean, Africa and elsewhere. <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/immigration-policy">And most of these Canadian residents arrived after 1962, when Canada removed its racist restrictions on immigration</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/ancestry-ad-gets-it-wrong-canada-was-never-slave-free-116051">Ancestry ad gets it wrong: Canada was never slave-free</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>But even if they are not descended from people enslaved in Canada, most African Canadians have suffered — and many still do suffer — from the historical injustices the expert panel addressed in 2017. </p>
<p>Canada’s Prime Minister should apologize for both slavery and historic and contemporary injustices endured by African Canadians.</p>
<h2>Financial reparations</h2>
<p>Financial reparations are more difficult than apologies. Many people think that financial reparation means giving every individual in a certain group a certain amount of money. Japanese Canadians who were interned during the Second World War received an apology from Prime Minister Brian Mulroney in 1988, <a href="https://humanrights.ca/story/japanese-canadian-internment-and-the-struggle-for-redress">along with a payment of $21,000 to each living survivor</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341046/original/file-20200611-114109-12x2ld9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=546&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">People being shipped to Japan are escorted to the immigration building in Vancouver circa 1946. In addition to internment camps, many Japanese Canadians were sent to Japan during the Second World War.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Hukazawa Ezaki/Nikkei National Museum)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Japanese Canadian redress was comparatively easy to implement because the internment had been relatively recent. Some victims were still alive and the number was relatively small. </p>
<p>By contrast, enslavement ended 186 years ago: no victims are still alive and many of the descendants of enslaved individuals might not be identifiable now. </p>
<p>But racial discrimination was not formally and uniformly prohibited in Canada until <a href="https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/C-12.3/FullText.html">the Canadian Bill of Rights was proclaimed in 1960</a>. </p>
<p>Reparations for discrimination before and after 1960 need not take the form of a financial payment to every individual African Canadian. But reparations for specific groups of victims of past and present harms are a viable option.</p>
<h2>African Canadians and reparations</h2>
<p>The 2017 U.N. expert panel notes the high rate at which children are removed from African Canadian families. Reparations might be paid to members of this group, just as it’s been paid to Indigenous victims of the “sixties scoop,” <a href="https://www.newswire.ca/news-releases/sixties-scoop-survivors-decade-long-journey-for-justice-culminates-in-historic-pan-canadian-agreement-649748633.html">when Indigenous children were removed from their families and placed in Canadian foster care or adopted by white families</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=157&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=157&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=157&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=197&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=197&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/341350/original/file-20200611-80778-15p8d8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=197&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A group of mostly Black Canadians with Premier Ernest C. Drury pose on the steps of the Ontario Legislature in Toronto to create a plaque in memory of the members of the No. 2 Construction Battalion, an all-Black non-combat battalion that served in the First World War.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Canadians#/media/File:Black_Canadians_at_Queens_Park.jpg">(City of Toronto Archives)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The federal and provincial governments could also establish funds for reparations to African Canadian victims of ongoing maltreatment in prisons and jails. Recognition of the systemic nature of this maltreatment would mean that individuals would not have to prove their particular case for reparation in each instance.</p>
<p>Federal and provincial governments could establish funds for African Canadian communities affected by environmental racism. The expert panel noted that “environmentally hazardous activities are disproportionately situated near neighbourhoods where many people of African descent live.”</p>
<h2>Racist housing laws</h2>
<p>Even municipal leaders could apologize for the actions of their predecessors.</p>
<p>The neighbourhood of Westdale in Hamilton, Ont., was built in the 1920s under a “protective covenant.” As historian John C. Weaver explains in his 1982 book, <em><a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/571781/pdf">Hamilton: An Illustrated History</a></em>, this covenant forbade sales to members of many different ethnic, religious and racial groups, among which “Negroes,” was the first group listed. The courts did not prohibit this segregation until after the Second World War. </p>
<iframe src="https://www.nfb.ca/film/remember_africville/embed/player/" width="100%" height="315" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true" webkitallowfullscreen="true" mozallowfullscreen="true"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://www.nfb.ca/film/remember_africville/" target="_blank"><em>Remember Africville</em></a>, the National Film Board of Canada</p>
<p>Discrimination in housing means that African Canadians of the early 20th century had less opportunity to acquire wealth than white Canadians. This disparity in wealth may well carry down through generations. </p>
<p>Today, African Canadians as a group may inherit less from their immediate ancestors than white Canadians.</p>
<p>If the municipal government at the time permitted this institutionalized racism in Hamilton, then its Mayor could apologize for it now. So could any existing private organization such as banks, mortgage companies or real estate agencies that were involved in upholding racist protective covenants during the first half of last century. </p>
<p>They might consider what reparations they could pay for example, by donating to scholarship funds for local African Canadian students.</p>
<p>All levels of government as well as all public and private institutions should examine their consciences and their pasts. Faith communities, school boards, universities, health services and private businesses may all be implicated in systemic racism against African Canadians. </p>
<p>All could consider formal apologies and collective financial reparations.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/140527/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Rhoda E. Howard-Hassmann receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for her scholarly work that she published between 2003 and 2015 on reparations to Africa and political apologies. </span></em></p>Reparations to African Canadians for enslavement and historical injustices need not be financial payments to every individual African Canadian. Instead funds for specific groups are a viable option.Rhoda E. Howard-Hassmann, Professor Emeritus, Department of Political Science, Wilfrid Laurier UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1400392020-06-08T20:12:03Z2020-06-08T20:12:03ZHow to understand police violence: Not a case of good cop vs. bad cop<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/340356/original/file-20200608-176564-s9m79r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=50%2C82%2C4196%2C2795&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Anti-racism demonstrators take a knee near Toronto Police Headquarters during a march, June 6, 2020. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Frank Gunn</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Amidst the grief, disbelief and justified outrage at the killing of African Americans, many people want to make sense of what appears to be senseless police mayhem and violence. The killing of George Floyd and other African Americans by police has led to civilian protests and outrage across the United States and around the world. The gaze has now turned to Canadian police.</p>
<p>According to the <a href="https://thetyee.ca/Analysis/2020/06/02/Canada-Race-Based-Violence/">Ontario Human Rights Commission</a>, Black Torontonians are 20 times more likely to be shot by police than the city’s white residents. Despite <a href="https://www.attorneygeneral.jus.gov.on.ca/inquiries/ipperwash/policy_part/projects/pdf/AfricanCanadianClinicIpperwashProject_SIUStudybyScotWortley.pdf">numerous inquiries</a> and <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/royal-commission-on-inquiry-into-certain-activities-of-the-royal-canadian-mounted-police">commission</a> after <a href="http://www.ohrc.on.ca/en/public-interest-inquiry-racial-profiling-and-discrimination-toronto-police-service/collective-impact-interim-report-inquiry-racial-profiling-and-racial-discrimination-black#Executive%20summary">commission</a> after <a href="http://www.ohrc.on.ca/it/node/23851">commission</a> into police violence over the years — many with strong recommendations for police reform — nothing changes. Why? </p>
<p>Universities, news media, Hollywood, politicians and economic elites continually drum into our heads that police “<a href="http://www.torontopolice.on.ca/">serve and protect</a>” — and so goes the police motto in Toronto. This narrative of police helps to fuel the fantasy that they are necessary in their present configuration. But whom and what police protect must be asked squarely. </p>
<h2>Thick bureaucracies</h2>
<p>Citizens, misunderstanding that they are the ones to be protected, have demanded increased professionalization. This has mainly contributed to an already existing tendency toward a thicker and more unresponsive bureaucracy. </p>
<p>Police are now an unprecedented powerful cultural and political force protected by <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/09/19/why-are-police-unions-blocking-reform">unions</a>, the <a href="http://www.abuseofpower.info/Culture_Brotherhood.htm">brotherhood</a>, police services acts, increased authority, lax prosecution and <a href="http://courts.mrsc.org/supreme/132wn2d/132wn2d0001.htm">a protective blanket offered by the courts</a>. The unfettered growth of so many branches of police raises <a href="https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2020/06/05/protests-washington-dc-federal-agents-law-enforcement-302551">legitimate concerns that we are in a police state</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340373/original/file-20200608-176554-f56cr8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Protesters gather in Toronto and hold signs to honour Black lives lost at the hands of police, on June 5, 2020.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Chris Young</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Now is the time for people and groups to activate what the prominent sociologist <a href="https://www.gradesaver.com/the-sociological-imagination/study-guide/summary-chapter-1">C. Wright Mills called “the sociological imagination.”</a></p>
<p>In other words, we need to apply rational theory to explain the irrationality of the police, politicians and economic elites, given that capitalism is hardly rational. We need to pierce the bubble of ideologies that confuses the interests of the powerful as something good for all of society.</p>
<h2>How to apply rational theory to the police</h2>
<p>There is no good police versus bad police. The sociological imagination rejects personalizing explanations. Police are police; they are the states’ organ of repression. </p>
<p>In a social order that is based on social inequality, even the most benign and friendly cop is little more than an ideological prop to make us grateful that the state can be merciful and is your friend. Black people know otherwise.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/340371/original/file-20200608-176575-oph3l7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=525&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Toronto police officers take a knee during an anti-racism march in Toronto on June 6, 2020.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/Frank Gunn</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>After getting past the ideological trap of good versus bad cop, the next step is to ask two fundamental questions in terms of what the police are for. Whom do the police serve? What do they protect in a colonialist and capitalist social order? </p>
<p>The first part of the question implies that police protect “us” from that abstract noun the state calls “crime.” Incidentally, in protecting us from crime, police are empowered by law to break the law. Basically, this is state lawlessness. </p>
<p>A contradiction? Absolutely! But how to explain it?</p>
<h2>Immunity from prosecution</h2>
<p>This contradiction is, however, absolutely explicable. Police in the U.S. have something called “<a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/live-updates-protests-for-racial-justice/2020/06/07/871713872/cory-booker-wants-to-end-qualified-immunity-for-police-officers">qualified immunity</a>” from prosecution. <a href="https://www.thestar.com/news/world/us/2020/03/13/supreme-court-petitioned-on-police-officers-legal-immunity.html">In Canada</a>, <a href="https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/r-10/page-14.html">similar immunity laws exist</a>. Since the state protects its protectors, qualified immunity from prosecution is what often allows police to get away with murder – literally.</p>
<p>The legal justification for police violence is key to understand liberal democracies. In a capitalist social order, the principal function of police is to maintain the order of mal-distributions of private and productive property.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/thugs-is-a-race-code-word-that-fuels-anti-black-racism-100312">'Thugs’ is a race-code word that fuels anti-Black racism</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Without a domestic armed force, the economic, social and political power of the ruling class and elites would not be possible. The police defend the interests of the powerful, and those whose disorganization is their powerlessness. This is not unlike what American law designates <a href="https://www.justia.com/criminal/docs/rico/">Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization (RICO)</a> or, more simply, a <a href="http://globalization.qwriting.qc.cuny.edu/files/2010/09/warmaking3.pdf">mafia</a>.</p>
<h2>A renewal of democracy</h2>
<p>Police violence has always been the spark for the periodic bubbling over of public discontent with colonialism, capitalism, racism inherent to social inequality. There are a myriad of better scenarios than the current one.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dear-white-people-wake-up-canada-is-racist-83124">Dear white people, wake up: Canada is racist</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The police must be defunded. We need a mix of citizens’ councils, Crown councils, courts and diminished roles for police and prisons as remedies for the problem of social inequality. Those citizens’ councils must not be co-opted and turned into an iron curtain of mass surveillance. </p>
<p>A new basis for social order is also required, such as a guaranteed basic income and democratic socialism. </p>
<p>This is all uncharted territory and there will be many unintended consequences. </p>
<p>Defunding, which means demobilizaion, could be a problem. As is the case in contemporary Mexico, Russia and elsewhere, former police and soldiers easily turn to armed brigandage, <a href="https://dawnpaley.ca/">join paramilitaries or narcos</a>. That might not happen here. </p>
<p>But given the last 40 years is increasingly dystopian and corruption already a serious problem in policing, nothing is to be ruled out.</p>
<p>Committing sociology is not about being right. It is about a frame of mind, of being open to critical interpretations and a way of asking questions about the dense fog of ideology that besets us.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/140039/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tamari Kitossa does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>There is no good police versus bad police. Police are police. They are the states’ organ of repression. There are a myriad of better scenarios than the current one.Tamari Kitossa, Associate Professor, Sociology, Brock UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.