Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion

Category: DEIA

  • Indigenous sovereignty and DEIA in the ecosystem of AI

    Indigenous sovereignty and DEIA in the ecosystem of AI

    By Rochele Padiachy and Usman Qazi

    2025 marks the 10-year anniversary of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) final report and its Calls to Action. These 94 calls to action speak on a variety of issues where reconciliation advancements are needed, and 10 years later, there is still much work to be done. At the same time, we are witnessing a rapid technological transformation in artificial intelligence (AI), a powerful tool that is reshaping how we access, produce, and interact with information online.

    Beyond ChatGPT: Understanding AI’s impact on inclusion

    AI is trained in large-language models (LLMs) which are advanced systems that can perform cognitive functions such as learning and problem-solving, can create high quality content such as audio, images, text, and code.[1] An example that you have probably seen is ChatGPT, one of the better-known LLMs that can generate human-like text and photos in a conversational way. While there can be positive uses for an AI system such as ChatGPT, it also has high tendencies of providing incorrect information, potential negative biases from its training data, privacy concerns, and significant environmental impact from its energy use.[2]

    This is important for people to consider because when we talk about AI and its intersection with DEIA, we should understand what it brings to these kinds of spaces. This technological boom has people wondering how it would affect and even influence inclusion, accessibility, and diversity frameworks. We need to think about DEIA values within the AI ecosystem, because without doing so, we risk reinforcing barriers to accessibility and awareness. One of these risks includes repeating harmful rhetoric that continue to harm Indigenous communities specifically. As AI becomes deeply embedded in our institutions, and as we think about the work that still needs to be done for the TRC and its Calls to Action, we must ask ourselves: what does it mean for Indigenous sovereignty in the digital age?

    This is where techquity comes into play.

    Techquity: Beyond access to agency

    When we talk about techquity (technology + equity), we’re referencing something far deeper than access to Wi-Fi or a new device.[3] Techquity is focused on ensuring that the development of technology actively promotes equity and social justice for all communities. True equity in technology is about participation, the ability to help shape, govern, and benefit from the systems that increasingly define how we live and learn, and, more importantly, our connection to one another.[4]

    Access without agency isn’t equity, it’s dependency guised as inclusion.

    For many marginalized and racialized communities, even being connected hasn’t always meant being empowered. This holds true for many Indigenous communities across Canada and beyond. In a report written by The Assembly of First Nations and Indigenous Services Canada, the digital connectivity gap is severe, as only about 40% of First Nations communities have access to high-speed internet, while large existing disparities such as education, health, and employment continue to occur.[5] With the addition of AI, these spaces, without proper dialogue or consent, risk repeating old patterns and widen the digital connectivity gap. Innovation becomes another form of extraction rather than collaboration.

    Without proper dialogue or consent, the addition of AI to these spaces risks repeating old patterns and widening the digital connectivity gap, where innovation becomes another form of extraction rather than collaboration.

    Māori-led AI design: The koru model

    So, the question isn’t just how Indigenous communities access AI, but who decides how it’s built, trained, and used. These tools should be developed in partnership with Indigenous communities, grounded in Indigenous worldviews and governance practices.

    Around the world, Indigenous communities are already reframing this relationship. A powerful example of Indigenous leadership in AI comes from the work highlighted by the World Economic Forums Blueprint for Equity and Inclusion in Artificial Intelligence Published in 2022. The report draws on concepts developed by Sarah Cole Stratton of the Māori Lab, whose Māori-informed framework reframes the AI life cycle through Whakapapa (interconnection), Whanaungatanga (relational responsibility), and Kaitiakitanga (guardianship). Stratton was a one of the lead contributors to the WEC blueprint, where her Representative, Responsible, Evolutionary AI Life Cycle was spotlighted. Unlike conventional AI lifecycles that spin in closed loops of bias and repetition, Stratton’s model unfolds like a koru, the unfurling Punga fern symbolizing growth, renewal, and continuity [6]. 

    This Māori-led framing offers a powerful alternative: an AI lifecycle that flows, unfolds, and adapts with each iteration, guided by community knowledge, environmental stewardship and shared governance. This reenvisioned lifecycle reflects broader truth, meaningful innovation is relational, iterative, and accountable, and it grows the way the koru does, always reaching toward responsible expansion.

    The Māori Lab “koru” (Sara Cole Stratton)[7]

    A blueprint for equity and inclusion in artificial intelligence.

     

    Data sovereignty: OCAP and the CARE principles

    This is where the principle of Indigenous data sovereignty becomes relevant and essential. It is the fundamental rights[8] and regional frameworks seen in the OCAP (Ownership, Control, Access, and Possession) principles in Canada. [9]

    An article written by the International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs (IWGIA), a global human rights organization dedicated to promoting and defending Indigenous Peoples’ rights, mentions[10] that Indigenous Peoples must be the decision-makers around how their data and cultural representations are used in digital systems.[11] In many cases, data collected from Indigenous and marginalized communities are extracted, commodified, and used without consent. Frameworks like the CARE Principles for Indigenous Data Governance (collective benefit, authority to control, responsibility, and ethics)12 remind us that data sovereignty is not just a technical standard, it’s a matter of respect, and self-determination.[12]

    AI obscures this landscape further. AI systems engage massive data sets, most of which are untraceable in origin and often reflect historical and systemic bias. When these models are trained on unexamined data, they stand a very reasonable risk of multiplying and mirroring inequality. Without Indigenous participation and oversight, many have raised concerns that AI has the potential to become what some scholars refer to as data colonialism: the monetization and extraction of language, culture, and knowledge without consent or accountability.[13]

    Indigenous AI in action: Examples from Latin America

    Bridging the digital divide requires structural reforms, such as ethical data practices that respect community consent and autonomy and policies that support inclusive participation and cultural preservation.[14] Some countries have already begun experimenting with Indigenous-led AI initiatives that prioritize cultural preservation and community-led governance.

    For example, a report titled Indigenous People-Centered Artificial Intelligence: Perspectives from Latin America and the Caribbean[15] emphasizes the importance of participatory inclusion, ethical data use, and AI systems rooted in Indigenous knowledge systems.[16] The digitization of Indigenous data must guarantee their right to self-determination and to govern their data, to use them under their values and common interests, the free, prior and informed consent for their collaborative participation, and to ensure their privacy and intellectual property rights”.[17] Some of the examples that include these protocols include:

    • Researchers from the Technological Institute of Oaxaca created an AI-driven app that supported Tu’un Savi language revitalization, offering pronunciation and writing guidance using mobile phone cameras.[18]
    • Researchers in Veracruz used natural language processing to evaluate pronunciation in Indigenous languages, supporting educational access.[19]

    These examples highlight using DEIA values in the container of AI in an inclusive way.

    Reconciliation in the digital age: Canada’s path forward

    While we have been speaking about the AI ethics globally, the conversation about AI in the Canadian context must expand to include Indigenous data governance, and Indigenous sovereignty must be grounded in the TRC’s Calls to Action and the broader context of reconciliation. The conversation between AI and DEIA must be had with DEIA values in mind, and these values include living/lived experience, equity, and critical approaches, which are important when discussing the intersection of AI and DEIA in relation to supporting racialized and marginalized communities. Without intentional design, inclusive policy, and Indigenous leadership, AI risks becoming another tool of assimilation and exclusion.

    With the advent of this new and rapidly emerging technology, as well as the issues that have been brought up globally by the UN and UNESCO, we are forced to critically examine where it leaves us. As we think about the TRC and the Calls to Action, we should ask ourselves whether AI perpetuates the same discriminations for Indigenous Peoples as before. Over the past 10 years, we have been shown that reconciliation is not static; it must evolve in conjunction with shifting social, political, and technological circumstances. And, in the present moment of rapid AI innovation, reconciliation must also contend with the frontier of digital sovereignty and techquity.

    So, when we think about how Indigenous communities are affected by AI and its potential of mirroring harmful and historical patterns of dispossession, it can be scary when there is no control or guidelines that can mitigate these risks of digital exploitation and reinforcement of biases. Techquity allows for AI to be utilized in a container, and thinking about DEIA values, ensures human-centered approaches that can protect Indigenous People’s rights, empowering them as decision-makers and, if they choose to participate, allowing them to engage with the technology on their terms.[20] This approach lays the groundwork for an inclusive AI future, one in which Indigenous communities continue to shape the technologies in ways that honor their knowledge, autonomy, and rights.

  • Care over convenience: Centering DEIA in everyday choices

    Care over convenience: Centering DEIA in everyday choices

    Making meaningful choices amid chaos 

    In recent years, I’ve focused my work on putting people and our planet first. Whether it’s guiding companies through B Corp certification or supporting diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) initiatives, I’ve seen firsthand how everyday choices can add up. 

    At home, putting my values into action feels more complicated. Parenting adds a whole new level of chaos. Between juggling time, tight budgets, and temper tantrums, every decision feels more tangled and personal, and I often question if my small actions really make a difference. 

    It started with a birthday party 

    For my son’s sixth birthday, I set out to throw him the ultimate Sonic the Hedgehog celebration. I went straight to the party store and loaded up on themed decorations, shiny balloons, and favors; everything I thought would make the day magical. 

    But somewhere between the floor-to-ceiling aisles of shiny decor and the checkout line, I froze. My cart was overflowing, and so was my guilt. 

    This wasn’t the first time I’d felt that tension: the pressure to pull off a Pinterest-worthy moment clashing with the voice in my head whispering, who is this for? 

    When the easy path isn’t the right one 

    I saw at that moment what I’d been trying not to: the uncomfortable, inconvenient thoughts I usually pushed aside. I wanted to create a special day for my son, but I knew everything in my cart would likely end up in the trash by the next morning.  

    Still, the pressure was real, especially as a parent. It’s easy to compare and feel like we’re falling short. We’re bombarded with images of curated “perfection”: balloon arches, custom cakes, and themed snack tables. The message is loud and clear: More is better. And if you skip the loot bags? Cue the mom guilt.

     

    The real cost of convenience 

    Feeling overwhelmed, I emptied my cart and left the store with only a few paper balloons. I didn’t have a plan, just a terrible feeling in my gut I couldn’t ignore. 

    From there, I started exploring more sustainable options for my son’s party and asking deeper questions about who might be carrying the cost of my everyday choices. The more I uncovered, the more uneasy I felt.  

    Climate change, pollution, and toxic waste aren’t abstract problems. They land heaviest in the places and communities that have been overlooked for years. Places where people were already fighting to be seen and heard. 

    Not everyone experiences “the environment” the same way. I started noticing that zero-waste choices, the kind of things we often hear about, aren’t really an option for many people. Often, those conversations come from places of privilege – people with time, money, and access. Meanwhile, the people facing the harshest effects of environmental harm usually have the least power and resources. 

    Facing the hidden impacts, often paid in dignity, labor, land, or wellbeing, meant confronting my habits rooted in convenience and privilege. And that was the hardest part: choosing to keep learning, even when it was uncomfortable, and making space for humility and choices that felt more aligned with my values. 

    Why DEIA drives sustainability 

    At first, I thought sustainability was mostly about stuff: what we buy, what we throw away, and what we recycle. But over time, that view started to feel too narrow and too simple. 

    When I started paying closer attention, I could see how the impact of my choices reached far beyond my home. The things that make life easier for me often come with a price that others end up paying. That cost might show up in: 

    • unsafe working conditions 
    • polluted neighborhoods 
    • limited access to clean water and air 

    It’s not evenly shared, and it doesn’t show up on a receipt. 

    To take care of the environment, we need to take care of each other. When we put equity, inclusion, and accessibility front and center, we come up with ideas that work for more people and stand the test of time. Without it, we’re just repeating the same broken systems, only this time with reusable tote bags.

    Leaning into intention 

    Do I still get it wrong? Absolutely. There are days when convenience wins, and I forget to ask better questions. But I’m learning to pause and choose more intentionally whenever I can, grounding myself in these questions: 

    • Who is connected to this choice? 
    • Who benefits? 
    • Who might be left out? 

    Every choice we make says something about what matters to us. And even small, imperfect actions can build momentum when we stay curious, open, and willing to keep learning. 

    A future worth celebrating 

    For me, everything came into focus in aisle five; and since then, it’s grown into a new way of seeing, choosing, and showing up. 

    And you know what? My son had the best birthday. 

    We gifted reusable Sonic the Hedgehog mugs from a local sustainable shop instead of the usual plastic loot bags, and he proudly explained why it was better for the planet as he handed them out to his friends. The decorations (or lack of them)? He didn’t even notice. He was too busy having fun. 

    I’m still figuring it out. I don’t have all the answers. My kids keep reminding me that being present is way more important than making everything look perfect, and that teaching them to be part of the solution starts with how I show up. 

    For me, sustainability is more than the choices I make. It’s about being willing to see the impact of those choices and staying curious enough to keep learning and growing, even when it feels uncomfortable or messy. 

    So, what will your next choice say about the world you want to create? 

  • Calling all allies: sharing and learning from CCDI queer professionals

    Calling all allies: sharing and learning from CCDI queer professionals

    By Anthony Lombardi, Iván Barradas, MacKenzie Pudwell, and Viktória Belle 

    In recent months, Canada, long regarded as a progressive and inclusive nation, has witnessed a disturbing rise in threats and hostile actions directed towards 2SLGBTQIA+ communities. Despite legal protections and social advancements, individuals identifying as part of this diverse collective continue to face increasing aggressions, violence, and discrimination. From alarming instances of hate crimes to the amplification of anti-2SLGBTQIA+ rhetoric in media and political discourse, the safety and well-being of many Canadians are under growing threat.  

    To raise awareness of this challenging reality, CCDI has formulated the following question to four members of our staff who identify themselves as queer persons: 

    Considering the rising threats to DEIA efforts in our country, what is your personal and professional contribution to help building safety and inclusion for other 2SLGBTQIA+ persons in Canadian workplaces? 

    Here are their answers. 

    ___ 

    Anthony Lombardi (he,him) 

     

    Growing up gay, the fear of being found out followed me everywhere I went and seeped into everything I did. Now, as a secure and confident gay man, that fear no longer haunts me. However, I recognize that the depth of the shame I carried for two decades determined the direction that my life would take, and it informed how I would get there. It was at the root of my decision to do everything I could so that others who live in similar shame would find the support needed to overcome the barriers that inhibit the expression of their true self. I had decided that anything less than authentic was just not good enough.   

    The journey of my activism started with volunteering a few evenings a month at a help and information phone line for those grappling with their sexual and/or gender identity. It was heartbreaking to know that there were so many people out there who still had not come to the realization I had come to – that they were just as worthy of love and respect as everyone else.   

    Outside of my volunteer hours, I began speaking freely about gender and sexual inclusion because even though people around me were not struggling with their identity, their ability to understand certain issues that were distant from their own reality greatly influenced their world view – one that may not have recognized the need for the safe spaces I was trying hard to create. 

    Now, another two decades later, I am working at the Canadian Center for Diversity and Inclusion with organizations dedicated to creating safe workplaces. Once I turn off my computer at the end of the day or on a Friday afternoon, I step back into a world where my meetings and projects may be invisible, but the threats to inclusion continue to wreak havoc. So, if I truly want there to be safe spaces for the diversity that surrounds all of us, I must understand that this mission is not one that I can simply relegate to the confines of a 40-hour work week or the occasional volunteering opportunity. I must weave this effort into both the professional and personal spheres of my life, through empathy-building, awareness raising, education, and active listening. 

    I have worked hard so that I would not be forever scarred by the shame that enslaved my identity for 20 years. It is impossible to understand the feeling of such heavy shame when your existence is not under constant opposition. I argue that it is not even necessary to really understand it. What indeed is necessary is the collective act of sharing our spaces without casting onto each other the burdenous obligation to justify one’s existence in it. This practice is something that I speak about with my teams at work, with my friends, and with my family. I do so because I believe that honest and healthy conversation raises our awareness of where we can do better and be better. 

    I thank you for joining me on this journey to building a safer space for us all. — Anthony  

    ___ 

    Iván Barradas (he,him) 

     

    As a DEIA educator and a person belonging to the 2SLGBTQIA+ collectives in Canadawith a particular devotion and a professional background rooted in the fields of adult teaching and modern languages, it is indispensable for me to use (and promote the usage of) the most adequate and updated terminology when referring to other folks who identify themselves as individuals or allies of the 2SLGBTQIA+ communities, and who possess lived or living experience on the matter. 

    Thus, one of my most noteworthy contributions has been the collaboration with the Research Team in the annual review of CCDI’s DEIA Glossary of terms, where I had the opportunity to discuss, amend, and update several entries and definitions for a better understanding of 2SLGBTQIA+ realities in our country. For example, some important notions such as ‘enbyphobia’i, ‘endosex’ii and ‘heterocisnormativity’iii, were added to the glossary, as well as some amendments to the previous definitions of ‘romantic orientation’iv and ‘transness’.v 

    Although such an endeavor is a fascinating way of learning and disseminating knowledge, it must however be noted that it is not precisely an easy task. Sexual orientations, gender identities, and gender expressions are complex, fluid, and constantly changing, and cannot be addressed applying a “rigid” approach. Some terms that were widely used some years ago are no longer valid, while others that were vaguely defined (such as ‘queer’vi) required further research.   

    On the other hand, it is important to acknowledge the fact that having some living experience related to terminology (or interviewing persons who have it) has made a huge difference to correct or clarify the content. Furthermore, navigating the particularities of English and French languages, as well as the distinct perspectives that some entries have – according to Indigenous Peoples, Francophone communities, English-speaking researchers, and Allophone groups – has made this experience totally rewarding. 

    To all those 2SLGBTQIA+ folks living in a state of distress in Canada, I send tons of courage. —Iván  

    ___ 

    MacKenzie Pudwell (she,her) 

     

    DEIA is currently receiving a new wave of resistance backlash and is being targeted by anti-rhetoric. It is essential in this turbulent time to actively create safe spaces in the workplace and society for equity-deserving groups. This very much includes 2SLGBTQIA+ communities, whose rights, protections, and access to resources are being challenged—not just in the U.S., but here in Canada as well.  

    As a queer professional, I’ve encountered, assumptions, tokenization, and barriers to inclusion based on my identity and my community. While I have endured homophobia and sexism, I recognize that I am a queer, White, cis woman and that my experience is not representative of all 2SLGBTQIA+ folks. The diversity within our community is beautiful and complex, but I acknowledge my limitations and still choose to show up and support my community.  

    Professionally, I try to support the development of queer-inclusive content and leverage learning about all 2SLGBTQIA+ identities, issues, and experiences to expand my knowledge. Ultimately, I try to create awareness around the socio-political influences in Canada that are negatively impacting our community. To get a clear picture of what’s going on in your regions, I invite you to connect with your local 2SLGBTQIA+ groups today. From proposed book bans, limiting health care access to outing policies, you might be sadly surprised.   

    Personally, I had the immense honour of marrying my now amazing wife this year. Every step of planning became an opportunity to educate and challenge assumptions within the wedding industry. Sometimes, we were pleasantly surprised – shoutout to our photographers for their inclusive approach. Other times, we had to pause and offer alternatives, suggest more inclusive language, or point out problematic practices. Many vendors received this feedback openly and made changes. Others didn’t, which was disappointing, but a sign that our values didn’t align.  

    We wanted our wedding to connect with our local 2SLGBTQIA+ Alberta community. So instead of gifts, we asked people to donate to the Skipping Stone Foundation, a local charity supporting young trans and non-binary folks, who are being particularly targeted politically in Alberta. Some of our family hesitated, worried it might make others uncomfortable, and we responded, “If this is their line, then it probably means they aren’t meant to celebrate our love and the beautiful community to which we belong.” 

    Inclusion isn’t a one-time donation, policy, or gesture. It’s a daily commitment, made up of actions, missteps, learning moments, and intentional efforts in all areas of our lives. Building safe, inclusive spaces is ongoing work, and I’m committed to continuing that work alongside all of you.  

    I look forward to our journey. — MacKenzie  

    ___ 

    Viktória Belle (she,they) 

     

    Audre Lorde reminds us that “revolution is not a one-time event.vii When I think of revolution, I think of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community and how we all continue to build small and large revolutions every day around the world. 2SLGBTQIA+ people have always existed and will always exist, which means there is a rich legacy to learn from and follow. 

    Personally and professionally, I work to prioritize opportunities for safety and empowerment, amplifying the voices and teachings of 2SLGBTQIA+ people in my daily life and work. This can sometimes happen by speaking up when discrimination, misgendering, or exclusionary acts are happening in real time. It can look like: prioritizing naming injustice in relationships or in workplace structures, when it is safe to do so; asking someone to consider humanity and humility, despite the rise of hate through education; or offering resources and holding space. Often, we spend so much time talking about safety, how to stay safe, how to be safe, how to keep each other safe, that it takes up so much space and time in the lives of many 2SLGBTQIA+ people. Celebrating our joy and humanity is an act of resistance and a small, quiet revolution in itself. And allies can play a huge role in sharing some of that good and hard work of education and holding space.  

    In Canada and all over the world, the rise of identity-based threats and hate tears communities apart and costs our people their dignity and lives. I hope everyone out there feels some sort of responsibility to show up for 2SLGBTQIA+ communities in and out of your workplace, offer your kindness and humanity, and let someone know they matter. Now more than ever, collective care and solidarity are vital. I’m inspired every single day by my wife and partner, my family and friends, my comrades and colleagues, who continue to amplify our diverse voices, dispel misinformation, and risk their lives for the sake of ALL our collective liberation.  

    Thank you all so much. —Viktoria 

    ___ 

    If you are in Canada and experiencing distress or harm due to rising threats against the 2SLGBTQIA+ communities, please know that you are not alone. You can contact the following services for free and confidential support: 

    Egale – Canada’s leading organization for 2SLGBTQI people and issues. They improve and save lives through research, education, awareness, and by advocating for human rights and equality in Canada and around the world. Available in English and French. 

    Interligne – 24-hr help and information line for LGBTQ+ people, their loved ones, and professionals from various background (accessible throughout Canada and the Francophonie worldwide). Available in English and French. 

    It Gets Better Canada – Envisions a day when no young person in Canada feels marginalized, isolated, excluded or rejected because of their sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression. Available in English and French. 

    HPV Global Action – For inclusive information about general sexual and reproductive health. Also delivers inclusive presentations to schools and academic institutions. Available in English and French. 

    Aide aux Trans du Québec – Support and demystification of trans and non-binary identities. Available in English and French. 

    The LGBT+ Family Coalition – Advocacy and support for non-traditional families. Available in English and French. 

  • What we carry after bearing witness: Reflections on visiting the Auschwitz exhibition at the ROM

    May is Jewish Heritage Month in Canada – a time to honour Jewish culture, history, and resilience. It’s also a time to reflect on the unthinkable chapters that shaped the 20th century – and to understand what they ask of us today.

    A few of us from CCDI recently visited the Royal Ontario Museum’s exhibition, Auschwitz: Not long ago. Not far away. We went in knowing it would be difficult. What we may not have been prepared for was how deeply we were moved, and how much it would reveal about the present moment in which we’re living.

    In the days since our visit, we took some time to debrief as a staff. What stayed long after we left the exhibit wasn’t the history – it was how human it all was. How deeply personal. The stories weren’t distant or abstract. They were tactile and intimate.

    “What stood out for me was the humanization of the exhibit,” Josephine Njoh, Director of Partner Relations, CCDI. “A lot of times, we hear about events that have happened in history and as catastrophic as they are, they’re not individualized and personalized. Hearing individual stories, seeing clothing, shoes, really brought home that these are individuals. These were people with families and names and careers, and we can all relate to that.”

    This rang deafeningly true throughout the exhibit. You move past letters, photographs, everyday objects – a child’s shoe, a worn suitcase – and you begin to grasp the scale of loss through the smallest of details. The banality of it is chilling: the train timetables, the uniforms, the files. The genocide didn’t begin in the camps. It began with bureaucracy, with borders, with silence.

    “One of the rooms had a door from a gas chamber at Auschwitz,” Rosiane Torres, Events Coordinator, CCDI. “And there was a note saying the workers who manufactured it were proud to support the great Germany. I thought maybe society at the time didn’t really know what was happening. But no – many of them did. And they supported it. It reminded me that even today, many organizations benefit from systems of violence. There are echoes of this everywhere.”

    In our work, we often talk about systems – how they’re built, who they serve, who they erase. But seeing it laid bare in that exhibition made it harder to talk about systems as something abstract. This was not a lesson in history. It was a confrontation with complicity. It was a mirror.

    “This exhibition was an incredibly rich learning opportunity,” Annika Fenton, Business Development Manager, CCDI, said. “I’ve attended many Holocaust education events before, but this one stood out in how it laid bare the horrors of the tragedy without embellishment. It let the grotesque facts speak for themselves. The context was incredibly informative, and deeply heart-wrenching.”

    Since the visit, we’ve talked about how the experience made us reflect on our present-day—on who is being detained, deported, surveilled, or left to perish under the weight of policy. We talked about how the language of “order” and “justice” is still used to justify cruelty. And we asked ourselves: what does “never again” really mean if we look away now?

    This exhibit doesn’t offer easy closure. It doesn’t tie things up neatly. It leaves you sitting with discomfort, with grief, with questions. But it also leaves you with clarity.

    Jewish Heritage Month is not only a time for memory. It is a time for moral clarity. For courage. For action.

    If you are in or near Toronto, please make time to visit Auschwitz: Not long ago. Not far away. before it closes on September 1, 2025. Go with someone. Talk about it after. Let it challenge you. Let it change you.

    Because remembrance alone is not enough.
    We must respond. We must resist.

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA IDEA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion

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  • A Francophile in the Francophonie

    A Francophile in the Francophonie

    May 21 is the World Day for Cultural Diversity for Dialogue and Development, a UNESCO initiative focused towards protecting the diversity of cultural expressions of all the ethnic and linguistic peoples without distinction. When talking about language diversity in Canada, my thoughts tend to be drawn towards our two official languages and our many diverse Francophone communities across the country who work to preserve and innovate with their language and cultures.

    In spite of this, what I don’t often see included in this discussion is the ways in which French language learners, or Francophiles,[1] contribute to this work. I’ll admit, it hasn’t been until recently that I’ve begun to consider my own contribution to Canada’s linguistic diversity, despite speaking and working in both official languages, simply because I come from an Anglophone home.

    For some context, my French education was through Ontario’s French Immersion program which I started in the first grade and continued right through my studies at the University of Ottawa.[2] Despite being able to speak French from a young age, I’ve never considered myself Francophone. I didn’t grow up speaking French at home or in my community, and for most of my life have only used the language in a classroom, one that was filled for the most part by French speaking Anglophones like me. When it comes to the Francophonie, I’ve spent most of my life feeling like an outsider looking in.

    It wasn’t until my studies at the University of Ottawa that I was truly able to immerse myself in French Canadian cultures, since this was the first time that I studied alongside Francophone students. I remember struggling at first with this, having spent my academic career up to that point surrounded by French language learners like me. I remember leaving my first French lecture with a headache from trying to keep up and going home to learn about the different references made in class that had flown right over my head. But I persevered, and by the end of my degree felt that I had not only improved my French but that I had been given the opportunity and ability to experience cultures at a depth that I wouldn’t otherwise have been able to access.

    For example, I’ve read books written by Haitian and West African authors that haven’t been translated into English. I have watched theatre pieces created by French Canadians and have overall been exposed to different perspectives in being able to attend courses delivered to Francophone students.

    I find having the opportunity to experience cultures in their own language important precisely because language is often such an integral part of a culture that usually loses elements when translated. When pieces are translated, it’s not always just the language that is adjusted – sometimes it’s also the cultural context through which certain things are communicated. This can be in altering certain phrases or gestures which simply don’t translate because there is no cultural context behind them in the language into which it is being translated. Certain elements can be altered to prioritize comprehension above the transfer of cultural elements. This is why we so often hear that something was ‘lost in translation’.

    Experiencing different cultures in their own language means that I am able to catch those nuances. As a result, I learn more about the culture and history behind them as I try to understand not just what is communicated, but why and how those elements came to be. Doing so has helped to fuel my own curiosity – not only about different cultures, but also different people, perspectives, and experiences. It has also helped to foster my own humility and respect when faced with those same things. There is always a different perspective or experience from which to learn.

    I’ve come to realize that I’m not really an outsider looking into the Francophonie. Thinking back, the French Immersion program allowed students to develop our own collective identity through shared experiences as Francophiles. Just because we didn’t speak French at home doesn’t mean that we don’t have our own place in the Francophonie or that we don’t contribute to it. The only requirement is to live in the world speaking French.

    The French-speaking world is filled with a large range of cultures, traditions, dialects, and experiences, and that my own experiences and that of my fellow Francophiles not only have a place in the Francophonie but make valuable contributions to it. In fact, the efforts of Francophiles in striving to live at least partially in French help to ensure the continuation of the various rich Francophone heritages in Canada.[3]

    The lessons that I’ve learned as a life-long Francophile have helped to bring me to DEIA work in a couple different ways. While trying to navigate spaces using my second language has provided me with empathy and patience for other people doing the same, this experience has helped me to appreciate the broad diversity of identities and experiences around me and helped me to develop a sense of humility when faced with ideas that differ from my own.

    There is not simply one way to be a part of or to come to any given community, and my experiences as a Francophile have helped me to understand the immense value of bringing together different perspectives and ways of thinking. My journey as a student of both French language and cultures, from feeling like an outsider looking in to recognizing that I occupy my own space within the Francophonie, has also helped bring me to this work.

    In reflecting on the ways in which Francophiles are often left out of the conversation and the many ways in which people can become a part of the French-speaking world, I’ve found myself asking: who else is left out of conversations and celebrations surrounding the communities to which they belong? This World Day for Cultural Diversity for Dialogue and Development offers a reminder to consider how we can bring those who are often excluded into our conversations and recognize their belonging and contribution to their communities, no matter what their journey was like to get there. Such questions deserve a deeper reflection… What do you think?

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA IDEA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion

    Recent Posts

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  • A tribute to Canada and its role in the resettlement of Vietnamese refugees

    In moments of crisis, we must remember the strength and unity that define us. As Canadian sovereignty and freedom are under attack, we can draw courage and inspiration from our rich history and the powerful stories that have shaped our identity. Embracing the lessons of the past helps us to forge a future that is brighter, more compassionate, and inclusive for all.

    One of these powerful lessons is Canada’s role on the global stage as a place of refuge for those fleeing persecution. April 30, 2025, marks the 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War. Also known as “the Fall of Saigon”, this date has forever etched my mind – and the minds of many Vietnamese – with feelings of loss, gratitude, and hope[i].

    Throughout history, my ancestors, family, friends, and other Vietnamese community members have faced immense challenges, from enduring a series of wars and forced displacements, to overcoming the harsh realities of colonization and imperialism. On April 30, 1975, the last American planes and helicopters left Saigon, stranding many as the North Vietnamese communist regime took control of South Vietnam. This marked the start of a challenging era. Under the new government, people faced harsh conditions, as their land and businesses were seized and as officials placed intellectuals, soldiers, leaders, and activists in “re-education” camps marked by forced labour, illness, and death[ii]. Families were separated, property was stolen, and democracy was lost.

    In the aftermath, in search of freedom and human rights, I heard endless stories of brave individuals and their families who embarked on perilous journeys, selling their gold and belongings for a rare seat on an overcrowded fishing boat, fleeing their homeland in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on their backs. These were known as the “Boat People.” Between 1975 and 1995, approximately 800,000 to 1 million Vietnamese fled the country[iii]. Their journeys were fraught with danger, pirate attacks, starvation, and death. They sought refuge in overcrowded camps across Southeast Asia in Malaysia, Thailand, Hong Kong, Indonesia, and the Philippines.

    The world watched in horror. With an urgent call to action from the United Nations, Western nations took collective action[iv]. Canada was one of the countries that heeded the call and played a significant role in addressing this crisis. Between 1979 and 1985, Canada accepted about 110,000 refugees.

    The resettlement of refugees was made possible by the tireless efforts of Canadians who felt compelled to help, fueled by the Government of Canada’s establishment of the Private Sponsorship Program (PSR) in 1979. The Canadian government pledged to sponsor one refugee for each refugee that the Canadian public would support privately[v]. This approach gave a tool for ordinary citizens to become directly involved in resettling refugees. Ethnic groups, faith communities, neighbors, families, and other benevolent associations mobilized to raise funds and provided support for the sponsored individuals or families during their first year in Canada. The PSR program has since become a model for other countries around the world, demonstrating how private citizens can play a crucial role in refugee resettlement.

    Our nation’s compassionate response was so inspiring that Canada was recognized internationally, earning the Nansen Refugee Award from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees in 1986. This was the first—and remains the only—instance of a country being bestowed this prestigious award for their aid to refugees[vi].

    In 2015, the Journey to Freedom Day Act was approved in the Canadian government and received royal assent. This Act commemorates the exodus of Vietnamese refugees following the Fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, and their acceptance in Canada[vii]. In 2022, after several years of community fundraising, the Calgary Vietnamese Canadian Association, in collaboration with community supporters and partners, unveiled the new Journey to Freedom Park. Designed in the shape of a boat, with a flower bed at its centre symbolizing the map of Vietnam, the park is situated at the entrance of International Avenue, with views of the river valley and downtown Calgary, offering symbolic reminders of the distance Vietnamese refugees traveled to create new lives. The park’s design was a collaboration between CVCA, local Vietnamese artist T.B. Tran, and First Nations representatives. It showcases a monument dedicated to the Vietnamese boat people and their journey to Canada as well as memorial walls highlighting the journey, the sponsors and all those who contributed to the re-settlement of Vietnamese refugees to Canada[viii]. This park serves as a reminder of the sacrifices made and the resilience of the Vietnamese people. It also symbolizes the gratitude of the Vietnamese community towards Canada for providing them with a new home.

    Over the past years, two of the most notable individuals who made a profound impact on me and my community were Ottawa Mayor Marion Dewar and Dr. Howard Adelman:

    • Mayor Marion Dewar launched “Project 4000” in 1979, a groundbreaking initiative to mobilize citizens of Ottawa to sponsor and support 4,000 Vietnamese boat people[ix].
    • Canadian academic and humanitarian Dr. Howard Adelman, founder of “Operation Lifeline,” led the largest operation that resulted in the rapid establishment of 66 chapters across Canada within eight days to mobilize private sponsorships[x].

    When our Vietnamese community invited them to Calgary to honour their immense contributions, they shared their story with our youth, parents, and community builders. Their motivation to help the Vietnamese refugees was both simple and profound: a vision rooted in the deep conviction that we must live in a world where compassion extends to all of humanity, beyond borders. They believed there should be no division between “us” and “them,” and that it is our shared duty to offer support to those in need whenever possible. I emerged from these heartfelt conversations with a renewed commitment to pay it forward, determined to help humans, regardless of their dimensions of diversity and life circumstances, to discover their peace, access their opportunities, and embrace the joy of making a life and a living free from oppression and exclusion.

    Additional efforts to preserve the narratives of the Boat People are showcased on the Hearts of Freedom website[xi] and through compelling film documentaries[xii]. Locally, the Calgary Vietnamese Youth Association is gathering stories from three generations in our community, dedicated to documenting and archiving our shared journey during this 50th anniversary year[xiii].

    Over the years, the legacy of Canadians of Vietnamese heritage continues to flourish as new generations emerge, forging their identities and sense of belonging on Turtle Island. Their contributions are vast and impactful, from contributing to the economy in a myriad of professions, to building social inclusion by sponsoring refugees from Syria and Kosovo, fundraising for wildfire relief in Alberta, and crafting masks for frontline workers during the pandemic when vaccines and masks were scarce. Despite the historical adversities faced by our community, our spirit, like that of so many other immigrant and refugee communities throughout Canada, remains strong and resilient.

    As Ryunosuke Satoro once said, “Individually, we are one drop. Together, we are an ocean.”[xiv] I have no doubt that ordinary people can do extraordinary things under a compelling vision. Thank you, Canada, for mobilizing and showing your leadership and humanitarian compassion in this chapter of our history. Such good lessons remind us to stay strong, inspire collective action during hard times, and pave the way for a future filled with hope, unity, and compassion.

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA IDEA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion

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    Waves of difference: A personal reflection on racial discrimination and the ocean’s lessons

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    Aging beyond stereotypes: Shaping a new story for the third act

    Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido

  • Waves of difference: A personal reflection on racial discrimination and the ocean’s lessons

    Waves of difference: A personal reflection on racial discrimination and the ocean’s lessons

    I’ve always loved the water. My mother used to say I could swim before I could walk. Growing up in a land blessed with stunning coastlines, the ocean was my joy—a place where I felt free, where the waves seemed endless, and there was always the promise of adventure. But one sunny day, on a family trip to the beach, I learned a lesson no child should ever have to learn. That day, the waves didn’t just crash against the shore; they crashed against my understanding of the world.

    I remember it clearly. The car door swung open, and I bolted toward the ocean with excitement. My mother yelled after me, her voice sharp and panicked, but I didn’t stop. I ran as fast as I could, the water calling me with its beauty. It was only when she caught up with me, pulling me back, that I realized something was very wrong.

    “You can’t go there,” she said, her voice trembling. “That’s the White beach.”

    In my confusion, I looked around. To my right, families sat on soft sand, shaded by umbrellas, laughing and playing in the water. They didn’t look like me. To my left, other families climbed over jagged rocks, finding small, uncomfortable patches of space. They looked different too. And there I stood, in the middle of it all, a child whose only crime was loving the ocean. That was the moment I realized my difference—not just as a personal identity but as something that shaped where I was allowed to be.

    The innocence of difference

    The International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination was established by the United Nations to commemorate the tragic events of March 21, 1960, when police in Sharpeville, South Africa, opened fire on peaceful protesters opposing apartheid pass laws, killing 69 people.[i] This day serves as a global reminder of the pervasive impacts of racism and the importance of standing against it in all forms.

    Children see the world without borders, without the constraints of race, class, or privilege. But as we grow, the world teaches us its divisions, its rules about who belongs where. That day on the beach, I learned that the beauty of the ocean couldn’t wash away the ugliness of segregation. The sand beneath my feet wasn’t just sand—it was a line drawn by history, by power, by systems designed to exclude.

    For many of us, this international day is a reminder of these lines, both visible and invisible. It calls us to examine the systems that uphold inequities, even in the most seemingly mundane places, like a day at the beach.

    The legacy of segregation

    What I experienced that day wasn’t unique. It was part of a larger legacy of segregation and exclusion, rooted in systems like apartheid in my homeland or redlining in other parts of the world.[ii] These systems didn’t just dictate where people could live, work, or swim—they shaped how we saw ourselves and each other.

    Today, these systems persist. The lines may not always be drawn in the sand, but they remain etched in the institutional structures of our societies.

    Intersectionality and responsibility

    On that beach, I also noticed something else: the diversity within difference. Each family—whether sitting on the soft sand or climbing the rocks—had their own story, their own challenges and privileges. This is where intersectionality becomes critical.

    In a UN message of observance of the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination in 2024, Secretary-General António Guterres acknowledged that “Racism is rife, but it impacts communities differently.” (United Nations. n.d).[iii] Thus, the fight against racial discrimination isn’t just about race in a silo; it’s about understanding how race intersects with gender, class, ability, and other aspects of identity

    As we work toward equity, we must consider these intersections. It’s not enough to address one form of discrimination while ignoring others. The systems that uphold racism are interconnected and so must be our efforts to dismantle them. Recognizing the multifaceted nature of discrimination allows for more comprehensive strategies in promoting social justice and equity across all lived space.

    Awareness and action

    That moment on the beach stayed with me. It planted a seed of awareness that has grown over the years, shaping my commitment to equity and justice. It reminds me that while systemic racism often feels insurmountable, change begins with these moments of awakening—both personal and most definitely collective.

    The International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination is more than a day to remember. It’s a day to act and to reflect on the ways racial discrimination continues to shape our world and to commit to dismantling it. It’s a call to recognize that the fight against racism isn’t just about addressing the past—it’s about shaping the future.

    A call to action: Honoring the past and fueling the future

    This day serves as both a solemn remembrance of lives lost, and a powerful reminder of the resilience and victories gained through collective action.

    Between 2019 and 2023, the number of police-reported hate crimes in Canada more than doubled, increasing by 145%.[iv] According to Statistics Canada (July 2024), reported incidents rose from 3,612 in 2022 to 4,777 in 2023—a 32% jump in just one year.[v] This followed an 8% increase in 2022 and a staggering 72% rise from 2019 to 2021.[vi] It’s important to note that these numbers reflect only reported cases, meaning the true scale may be even higher.[vii]

    While the present moment and days ahead are leaving many of us feeling uncertain and at times defeated—amid rising hate crimes and threats to safety—it’s critical to remember that our actions today honour the standards set and successes of those before us.

    We must channel this day as an opportunity to reaffirm our commitment to equity and inclusion, to see it as fuel that powers our collective movement forward. Let it serve as a reminder of the work that remains—not as a burden, but as a call to action that connects us deeply to our shared humanity.

    W.A.V.E.S. of action

    To honor this day and stay engaged, consider this easy-to-remember framework:

    • W – Witness the past: Learn and reflect on historical events like Sharpeville and consider their contemporary implications.
    • A – Acknowledge inequities: Recognize the systems that continue to uphold discrimination in your context.
    • V – Value intersections: Understand how race intersects with other identities, such as gender and ability, to create complex forms of discrimination.
    • E – Engage in action: Take tangible steps—advocate for policy changes, participate in equity-focused initiatives, or have difficult conversations.
    • S – Strengthen communities: Build connections across lines of difference, fostering mentorship, allyship, and shared learning.

    Concluding thoughts

    As we observe the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination in 2025, I invite you to reflect on your own moments of awakening. What lines have you seen drawn in the sand? How have they shaped your understanding of the world, and what can you do to erase them?

    The work of eliminating racial discrimination is ongoing. It’s in the policies we advocate for, the conversations we have, and the actions we take to ensure that no child ever has to face their difference in a world divided by hate.

    This year let’s commit to more than reflection. Let’s take action—big or small—to continue this work and carry on! — so that the only thing dividing us on the beach is the joy of building sandcastles or diving into the waves. Because the joy of the ocean doesn’t belong to one group of people. It belongs to all of us. And so does the work of equity.

    [i] UN Human Rights. (2021, March 19). The Sharpeville Massacre – standing up against racism. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3s4OO6Ch2A

    [ii] Jackson, C. (2021, August 17). What is redlining? The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/17/realestate/what-is-redlining.html

    [iii] United Nations. (n.d.). International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination. Retrieved from https://www.un.org/en/observances/end-racism-day.

    [iv] Public Safety Canada. (2024, August 7). Parliamentary committee notes: Rise in hate crimes. https://www.publicsafety.gc.ca/cnt/trnsprnc/brfng-mtrls/prlmntry-bndrs/20240719/34-en.aspx#:~:text=The%20number%20of%20police%2Dreported,the%20previous%2010%20year%20average.

    [v] Ibid, Public Safety Canada, 2024

    [vi] Ibid, Public Safety Canada, 2024

    [vii] Ibid, Public Safety Canada, 2024

    Resources for continued learning

    Apartheid Museum. (n.d.). Resources page – Apartheid Museum. https://www.apartheidmuseum.org/resources

    Antifaeff, P. (2024). Transforming Hearts and Minds: Racial Equity Through Human Resources Policies and Practices.

    Canada’s action plan on combatting hate. (2024). In Government of Canada (ISBN: 978-0-660-73772-0). Canadian Heritage. https://www.canada.ca/en/canadian-heritage/services/combatting-hate/action-plan.html

    United Nations. (n.d). Observances | United Nations. https://www.un.org/en/observances

    SABC News. (2023, March 21). Sharpeville massacre on the 21st of March 1960 [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1lZ199S8bU

    Jackson, C. (2021, August 17). What is redlining? The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/2021/08/17/realestate/what-is-redlining.html

    Public Safety Canada. (2024, August 7). Parliamentary committee notes: Rise in hate crimes. https://www.publicsafety.gc.ca/cnt/trnsprnc/brfng-mtrls/prlmntry-bndrs/20240719/34-en.aspx#:~:text=The%20number%20of%20police%2Dreported,the%20previous%2010%20year%20average.

    UN Human Rights. (2021, March 19). The Sharpeville Massacre – standing up against racism. [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3s4OO6Ch2A

    United Nations. (n.d.). International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination. Retrieved from https://www.un.org/en/observances/end-racism-day.

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA IDEA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion

    Recent Posts

    Understanding the differences between Canadian multiculturalism, cultural plurality and interculturalism

    What we carry after bearing witness: Reflections on visiting the Auschwitz exhibition at the ROM

    A Francophile in the Francophonie

    A tribute to Canada and its role in the resettlement of Vietnamese refugees

    Waves of difference: A personal reflection on racial discrimination and the ocean’s lessons

    Gender in science and STEM: Possibilities for shifting perspectives

    Aging beyond stereotypes: Shaping a new story for the third act

    Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido

  • Gender in science and STEM: Possibilities for shifting perspectives

    Gender in science and STEM: Possibilities for shifting perspectives

    One of the stories that Robin Wall Kimmerer shares in her book Braiding Sweetgrass[i] is about how she went to school and spoke with an advisor about her interest in studying botany because she “wanted to learn about why asters and goldenrod looked so beautiful together” (p. 39) only to be told that her question wasn’t science. This story continues to resonate with me as someone who has always been in love with both mathematics and art and have so often been told that they are diametrically opposed subjects of study. Math is logic, reason, objectivity, quantitative, and is associated with our left-brain while art is creative, intuitive, emotional, qualitative, and associated with our right-brain. However, the idea that math and art (or science and art) are separate continues, despite research debunking the myth of certain activities being associated with one side of our brains or the other, or that somehow our personality is within one camp or the other[ii].

    I wanted to share this story because it relates to a fundamental bias that I see existing around science as a discipline that also contributes to the gender disparities we continue to see in science and across all science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) disciplines. Most commonly, this effect is referred to as the leaky STEM pipeline[iii], where we see women and girls consistently moving away from STEM courses of study, impacting later job opportunities and ultimately contributing to the larger gender pay gap[iv]. In Canada in particular, despite holding 34% of STEM degrees, only 23% of people working in STEM positions are women[v].

    Recognizing this gap and the implications for women and girls as a scientist and medical doctor herself, HRH Princess Dr. Nisreen El-Hashemite worked to have the gender gap in science recognized by an official UN commemorative day, the International Day of Women and Girls in Science[vi]. This day is recognized on February 11 every year, and 2025 marks the tenth anniversary[vii].

    While there are many reasons to encourage more women and girls to join STEM professions, it cannot be overstated that society as a whole is at a disservice without more women continuing on to professional appointments across STEM disciplines[viii]. As this brief article title states, “Lack of Female Scientists Means Fewer Medical Treatments for Women”[ix] which ultimately leads to more women dying from preventable medical issues. Starting from this position, it seems that we are facing an insurmountable problem internationally; however, there are many ways we can start to make changes to support the impetus for this day, both personally and organizationally.

    Starting nationally, Larissa Vingilis-Jaremko, Ph.D. delivered a speech in 2017 to the Canadian House of Commons’ Standing Committee on the Status of Women in Canada, highlighting the impact of fewer women in science in the Canadian context. At the core of her speech, she highlights a key indicator, the importance of representation in science. To illustrate this point, she will often ask an audience to picture in their mind what a scientist looks like, and the typical image that is shared, is “an old man with crazy white hair, a lab coat, and glasses” (page 2)[x]. This imagery of a “typical” scientist is something she and her organization, the Canadian Association for Girls in Science (CAGIS), work hard to overcome. They do this by working with girls and youth ages 7-16 to encourage more girls to find connections with the STEM disciplines to assist in efforts to gain gender parity down the road.

    In fact, one of the ways to combat various gender biases across STEM disciplines is to look at representation. This can be achieved by examining celebrity influence and popular culture as a way of changing people’s perceptions of what people in STEM look like. Danica McKeller is an example I often use – a famous actress known for playing Winnie Cooper on Wonder Years who also holds a doctorate in mathematics and has written a series of books geared towards young women learning mathematics[xi]. Some celebrities, like model Karlie Kloss, are using their money and influence to create programs to support women and gender diverse individuals in specific STEM industries like tech, and building that bridge where supports are missing[xii]. Bridgit Mendler, who may be known to many from her Disney Channel acting career in the 2010s, holds degrees from both MIT and Harvard Law, and is working to bring space technology to everyone through a new venture called Northwood Space[xiii]. Also, looking to the media we consume, television programs like Bones brings us amazing female representation in the sciences through several different characters, and is based on the writings and career of real-life forensic anthropologist Kathy Reichs[xiv]. Each of these examples shows a new representation of science and math that can help bring more young women and girls to explore their own interests and knowledge in these fascinating subjects.

    Another way we can champion higher gender parity in STEM is by raising awareness of those already in the field. In the Canadian context, this can be done by:

    • attending and recommending events, like the “Celebrating the Success of Women in STEM” Symposium[xv], which occurs annually around February 11 to celebrate the International Day of Women and Girls in Science, as well as exploring the profiles of past symposia attendees[xvi].
    • highlighting efforts within your discipline that reach out to youth and get them interested[xvii] or organizations that are already doing this work like CAGIS.
    • supporting women who are in the STEM professions currently and working to ensure that women stay in the STEM professions once they join[xviii].

    Finally, I think it would be so valuable to consider expanding our conceptions of what science looks like as a discipline. So often we think of science as being in a lab doing research, however, as Larissa Vingilis-Jaremko mentioned in her speech, science can also be about the “physics of figure skating” or the “chemistry of art conservation” (page 2)[xix]. A quick search in Indeed brought me to a list of math and science careers that includes teachers, pharmacy technicians and pharmacists, mechanics, electricians, biologists, meteorologists, engineers, pilots, software developers, and IT professionals, to name a few[xx]. Ultimately, by expanding our view of what counts as science and who we see doing it, we can create space for new questions and different avenues of exploration, like Robin Wall Kimmerer’s desire to explore why asters and goldenrod look beautiful together.

  • Aging beyond stereotypes: Shaping a new story for the third act

    Aging beyond stereotypes: Shaping a new story for the third act

    By Mitzi Murray

    Aging – Everyone does it and if you aren’t doing it, you’re dead. But you aren’t dead, because you are reading this blog. Yay!! – on both counts!

    On a more serious note though, there is no getting away from it. No matter how hard we try, we will all age; and yet, Western society is terrified of aging, and many implement terror management theory when thinking and dealing with it.

    Terror management theory is just a nifty research term for the concept that large groups and even entire societies make decisions – or more importantly, put off making them – primarily to gain comfort by avoiding thinking about uncomfortable issues.

    Funnily, there is research out of Yale University that shows that by embracing aging, conceptualizing what we want out of it, and seeing the positives in it, we can add up to seven years to our life. And since we are going to have a positive attitude about aging, those seven extra years will be welcomed.

    So, it will pay off for seniors and future seniors to have conversations about what their third act of life will look like. For most in the Western world, their third act will start in their 60s – though is sadly not true for everyone.

    Given this, the challenge we face is how to envision your best third act, if all you are fed is content and imaging that says aging is decay, decline and frailty.

    The most influential and accessible mediums in our culture are film and film-based media and the sensory input they provide impacts how we build upon our existing knowledge base. For decades, film has played a major role in ageism, and seniors continue to face a double-whammy when it comes to the media:

    1. The first is symbolic annihilation – another nifty research concept that says if you DO NOT see people like you in the media you consume, it instills the belief that you must somehow be unimportant.

    It is common knowledge that the film industry is incredibly ageist – especially against women, and it has been called to the mat to change that. However, to give you a sense of how unrepresented older people are: At the 2022 film market that is part of the Cannes International Film Festival, there were only 60 films out of over 2200 that had an older adult in a leading role where the story revolved substantially around the older. That is only 2.7% of all the films in the Cannes film market, whereas seniors comprise over 10% of the world’s population and over 19% of the Canadian population.

    1. The second concept is that the more media you consume, the more likely it is to build up in our consciousness and subconsciousness, and the accumulated effect is to make you feel that what you ARE seeing is normal.

    An American Association of Retired Persons study (2019) showed that those over 50 are 7 times more likely to be depicted negatively than those under 50. Canadian research is less comprehensive, but a 2023 research paper looked at films and TV shot in BC and found that older people:

    • were more than twice as likely to be portrayed as fat and having a disability.
    • are more often portrayed as villains and antagonists
    • are less likely to be shown as sexy, smart, and funny.

    Let’s shift to another form of media: the news. University of Ottawa researchers undertook an analysis of how Canadian news media portrayed older adults and aging in five Canadian disasters (note: the pandemic was not one of them). They found that media coverage was very divergent: Media pieces were predominantly negative, accentuating the vulnerability and lack of resilience of seniors, or they presented the polar opposite, depicting older adults as “super seniors”.

    So, for decades, older adults have barely seen themselves represented in film and media, and when they do, it depicts them predominantly as frail, isolated, incapable, in decline, fat, unsexy, not smart, not funny, and maybe as a villain. On the flip side, when they are showed in a positive light, it is as a ‘super senior’ – someone with whom most cannot relate.

    You might be saying to yourself: “Wow! The future does not look bright!”

    But now for some good news: The anti-ageism movement is growing, and mainstream media is changing.

    Back in 2018, I started a film festival to try to make an age-positive culture shift – the first of its kind in Canada and one of only six in the world. Now, Canada boasts two film festivals that focus on changing attitudes towards aging, and new festivals are popping up in countries around the world.

    As a niche film festival addressing a social justice issue that was in its nascent stage, we saw only 100 films submitted for consideration in 2018. This may seem like a lot, but another festival that started the same year that was focused just on film received over 800 films. I am happy to say that our submissions have tripled since then – partially because we are gaining a reputation in the Canadian film industry, but also because the anti-ageism movement is growing.

    Canadian and international filmmakers are starting to take heed, creating films like Thelma, Ladies of Steel, Testament, and more. Additionally, famous actors are starting to speak up and advocate.

    • Jane Fonda has been addressing this subject since before her 2010 TED talk about the third act of life.
    • Maria Shriver had the likes of Jamie Lee Curtis, Rob Lowe, and Goldie Hawn talking at her Radically Redefining Aging conference in February 2022.
    • And here in Canada, Mary Walsh, of CODCO and This Hour has 22 Minutes fame, has raised her voice about women and aging in her short film, Radical.

    If you need more reasons to think positively about aging: We are living longer because we are living healthier. Also, back in 2008, Blanchflower & Oswald published research that demonstrated that our happiness follows a curve: It starts high in our youth when we are happiest, and then bottoms out in middle age as life becomes more stressful, and then it all uphill after that as our happiness surpasses the happiness of our youth.

    This positivity and happiness are constantly being challenged. Media, especially film and advertising, strongly shapes our views on aging, often casting older adults in negative or limited roles that reinforce stereotypes. Aging, however, is not a disease but a natural part of life, offering unique opportunities for growth and purpose. Additionally, aging should never be used as a punchline or an excuse.

    Here are some ways to reshape these views:

    • Raise your voice – It is time to show the full spectrum of the possibilities of the third act of life, the ability of older persons to contribute, and the power and fulsomeness of intergenerational work and relationships.
    • Adjust your attitude – Embrace aging and let your imagination run free with all its possibilities. You need to dream it before you can bring it to fruition. Actively envision what your best third act looks like.
    • Challenge your own expectations – When consuming media, question if it feeds a negative stereotype or sets a realistic picture of what aging might be. I encourage everyone to occasionally pick apart how a film makes you feel and informs your opinions.
    • Talk, talk, talk – Storytelling through film has the ability to trigger societal change. However, it is the discussions that really cement the shift in attitudes, so talk about it! A great way to stimulate the conversation is to attend a screening at either THIRD ACTion Film Festival or Ageless Film Festival.

    As we move forward into our third acts, let’s remember that aging is not a curse but an opportunity—a chance to live with purpose, creativity, and joy. By changing the way we think, speak, and engage with aging, we can shift the narrative from one of decline to one of potential. Let’s embrace the positive aspects of growing older, demand better representation in the media, and actively shape a world where aging is seen not as an end, but as a vibrant and fulfilling chapter. The power to change the story of aging is in our hands—let’s write it together.

    Levy BR, Slade MD, Kunkel SR, Kasl SV. Longevity increased by positive self-perceptions of aging. J Pers Soc Psychol. 2002 Aug;83(2):261-70. doi: 10.1037//0022-3514.83.2.261. PMID: 12150226.

    Blanchflower DG, Oswald AJ. Is well-being U-shaped over the life cycle? Soc Sci Med. 2008 Apr;66(8):1733-49. doi: 10.1016/j.socscimed.2008.01.030. Epub 2008 Mar 7. PMID: 18316146.

    Symbolic Annihilation – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolic_annihilation#:~:text=Symbolic%20annihilation%20is%20a%20term,be%20a%20means%20of%20maintaining

    Thayer, Colette, and Laura Skufca. Media Image Landscape: Age Representation in Online Images. Washington, DC: AARP Research, September 2019. https://doi.org/10.26419/res.00339.001

    Meyer, Michele and Meredith Conroy. 2023. “Representation and Inclusion in Film and Television Produced in British Columbia.” The Union of British Columbia Performers (UBCP/ACTRA) and The Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media.

    Oostlander SA, Champagne-Poirier O, O’Sullivan TL. Media Portrayal of Older Adults Across Five Canadian Disasters. Int J Aging Hum Dev. 2022 Mar;94(2):234-250. doi: 10.1177/00914150211024173. Epub 2021 Jun 21. PMID: 34154388; PMCID: PMC8721535.

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA IDEA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion Ageism

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    Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido

  • Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido

    Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido

    By Iván Barradas

    Read the interview in its original Spanish version.

    *****

    The month of October was designated as Latin American Heritage Month by the Parliament of Canada in 2018. This fact highlights the significant contribution of Latin American communities to the social, economic, political, and cultural fabric of Canada. It is also an opportunity to learn more about Latin American heritage and culture and to honor the rich traditions of Canadians of Latin American origin.

    The term ‘Latin American’ refers to individuals who identify themselves as such and who were born in the macro-region known as Latin American, and also to those persons (and their direct descendants) who emigrated to Canada from countries and regions located in the American continent that have large Spanish-speaking and Portuguese-speaking populations. According to the 2021 census, there are more than 580,000 Canadians of Latin American origin. However, more recent data published by the Canadian Hispanic Congress in 2023 showed that there are more than 1.6 million Latin American residents living in our country.

    The growing presence and influence of Latin Americans across Canada is a fact that brings challenges in terms of representation, integration and plurality, but also creates an opportunity to promote diversity, equity and inclusion. One of the agents of change who’s raising awareness on this topic is Bibiana Pulido, Cofounder and Executive Director of Québec Equity-Diversity-Inclusion Network (RIQEDI).

    I was pleased to have a conversation with her (in Spanish), on topics related to our cultural identities, the need to increase the visibility of our communities, and her role at RIQEDI.

    Iván:

    Bibiana, thank you very much for agreeing to this interview.

    First of all, would you like to share a bit about your personal trajectory as a Latin American (or Latina, if we apply “the economy of language”), as a Latina-Québécoise or as a Latina-Canadian? Do you identify more with any particular identity, or none at all?

    Bibiana:

    I was born in Colombia and immigrated to Canada when I was 7 years old, so I have spent most of my life both personally and professionally in this country. Being in the province of Québec, I feel good to be considered as a Latina, as I have the impression that I am well accepted (especially living in the Montréal region), where people, in general, are more aware and inclusive of the so-called visible minorities.

    However, I think that the perception is different in other cities or smaller towns, because when I visit them, people look at me in a particular way, as if thinking: “You’re not from here,” something that can also come out because of my québécois accent… And then, the awkward question arises: where do you come from?

    As we well know, the reason for asking this question can be interpreted in a thousand different ways. And although I answer with pride, explaining my origins and some childhood memories, this also implies providing a context about the time and the complex period in Colombia’s history, when violence caused by drug cartels and paramilitary guerrillas ravaged the country. It is curious that these facts, on some occasions, produce a certain distrust and make some people think that my family was directly involved in such conflicts.

    On the other hand, regarding my identity as a “Latina-Québécoise,” I feel proud to be one especially when I am in other Canadian provinces. Why? Because it is then that I realize that people from Québec have a Québec identity that differentiates us from the rest of the inhabitants of Canada.

    Iván:

    This leads me to ask you about the sense of belonging to one (or several) nations. Given that Latin Americans have national identities well rooted in our cultural background, how do you conceive this aspect being at the same time Colombian, Québécoise and Canadian?

    Bibiana:

    The question of nationalism is a complicated issue. I would say that my Québécois identity began to take shape when I arrived in Québec in the 1990s and when I began to study in French, a language that I appreciate very much.

    At that time, Bill 101 (also known as the Charter of the French Language), which establishes French as the official language of the provincial government and Québec society, as well as compulsory education for immigrants to study in French was already in force. At the same time, I remember very well the atmosphere of the second Québec sovereignty referendum campaign in 1995, and in particular, the concession speech of then Premier Jacques Parizeau, alluding to “money and the ethnic vote” as the cause of the triumph of the “no” camp.

    That fact constituted a breaking point for many immigrants (including my parents and my siblings), who hoped for a full integration into Québec’s society and culture. And interestingly enough, it also influenced me to strengthen my identity and sense of belonging as a Canadian.

    Regarding the use of language, I personally thank my parents for the fact that I was educated in both English and French (which is a privilege for many people in any country), and at the same time, I think that imposing a language in a forced way is not the best way to integrate immigrants. It is a process of gradual integration which they must be left to decide. Also, a lot of parents that have immigrated to Canada want to ensure a wide range of opportunities for their children so that they can thrive as a global citizen.

    Finally, I have also questioned my “Colombian identity” a lot, because even though I was born in that country, every time I visit it, I do not feel totally Colombian. The example that most marked me in that sense happened one summer, after I had completed my baccalauréat in Political Science, when I wanted to learn more about Colombia, and I was able to take part in an exchange program for six months.

    This is how I managed to enroll in the Universidad de los Andes (perhaps the most recognized private university in the country), and from the very first moment I experienced a “culture shock” when my classmates asked me: What social status do you belong to? [!]

    I simply fell silent. I realized that many people there define other people according to their belonging to a certain social class based on their social status and purchasing power, and that infuriated me, because in Canada we are not used to do that.

    In the end, the experience was enriching because I was able to make friends of other nationalities (Germans and Americans), but not Colombians. For them I was a foreigner who was born in Colombia but has lived practically all their adult life in Canada.

    I have learned to live with that, and to feel that every time I go to Colombia “I am not Colombian” (to others), although I will always be quite proud to consider myself Colombian.

    I love my country. I think it is one of the most beautiful countries in the world! I always make sure that my kids identify in some way with Colombia (and also Mexico on their father’s side). Their mother tongue is Spanish and we make sure that we go back to our countries on a regular basis, so they can learn and be proud of their Latin American heritage.

    Iván:

    Under a decolonization approach, the term “Latin America,” is considered incorrect and even derogatory, as it was created and imposed by a Eurocentric vision that invalidates the pre-Colombian vision of Indigenous Peoples and ignores the influence of other cultural identities, such as African. What is your opinion on this?

    Bibiana:

    Personally, I have had the opportunity to get to know some Latin American countries (although not all) – and I say this thinking specifically of Colombia – it is true that, despite the advances in terms of equity, we can still affirm that a good part of the population of our Latin American countries continues to face classism and racism, and many Indigenous populations and those of African descent continue to be undervalued. Unfortunately, racism is very present in the idiosyncrasy of Latin American societies. The idea of knowing that a white, green-eyed Colombian person, for example, is considered “superior” to a person with mestizo features or an Indigenous person. This causes the latter to be marginalized, even though the majority of the populations are not white.

    Moreover, it is true that Eurocentric thinking is part of the way of thinking of many people in Latin America. It is enough to remember how people of African descent and Indigenous people are treated. Some people still use derogatory terms to refer to these populations.

    Iván:

    Tell us a bit about your professional experience in Montréal – how did your interest in the DEI space come about?

    Bibiana:

    For as long as I can remember, I have always been a sensitive and critical person in the face of injustices. I became interested in DEI when I decided to study Political Science at the university (although it was not called DEI at that time). Later I studied Latin American Studies and then I did an exchange program in Colombia, where I collaborated with the Colombian Institute of Family Welfare. At that time, thanks to a series of peace dialogues between the Colombian government and the militias, there was a program of reintegration homes for young people who had been recruited by the guerrilla groups (many of them were forcibly taken from their parents).

    That is how I was able to visit some of these “secret” houses on a weekly basis, and you have no idea of the testimonies I heard. For example, many girls were raped and many of their parents were killed. This experience led me to become interested in Human Rights advocacy.

    Following my master’s degree and my doctoral studies in industrial relations at Université de Montréal, I was more interested on workers rights and well being in different organizations, so I became more involved in issues related to diversity, until I came to work at Polytechnique Montréal, in the area of human resources. Eventually, the growing interest in DEI gave me access to Université Laval, where I worked for three years as a director, strategy – partnerships – training of the Institut EDI2 (equity, diversity, inclusion and intersectionality).

    In parallel, interest in DEI motivated me to co-found a non profit organization, the Réseau québécois de la diversité, de l’équité et de l’inclusion (RIQEDI), in 2019, which has since transcended the university environment and now brings together other organizations from other sectors. It started with 30 people and now counts hundreds more.

    Iván:

    Speaking a bit about inclusion and diversity, we Latin American people in Canada constitute a cultural bloc more or less well identifiable by other equity-seeking groups and by the Anglo-Canadian and French-Canadian majority, but we are not unified in making collective decisions to improve our communities and organizations. What can we do to correct this fact?

    Bibiana:

    First of all, I think that today there is still a representation problem. For example, despite the fact that more and more Latinos and Latinas are accessing higher education and pursuing university programs and excelling in various fields, there is still little visibility of Latin American DEI practitioners focused on different fields of expertise as well as in DEI-related topics. In fact, I know of only a few in the Montréal region.

    This aspect has not changed much in recent years. When I was an undergraduate, I was one of the very few Latinas in a program where the rest of the students were white. Even in classes related to mobility and international cooperation, I found it incredible that there were very few. In my master’s and doctoral studies there were no other Latin Americans at all.

    This definitely influences the persistence of problems related to discrimination and misunderstanding (or ignorance) of the diversity of Latin American identities. To address this fact, and in relation to the Latin American Heritage Month in Canada, my dream is to organize an annual event that will make visible the work, projects and achievements of people of Latin American origin (or who are allies of our communities), and who come from different career paths and disciplines.

    In addition, I would love to join the effort (in collaboration with other institutions and the diversity of Latin persons), to create a network of Latin American people where, regardless of their experience, field of interest or career path we could all be in contact and discuss current issues, relevant both in Québec and the rest of Canada, that impact our lives.

    It is necessary to create a solidarity network that dives into the different realities of Latin American persons (privileged or not), and offers a voice to people with different occupations and from different backgrounds: from academia, private companies, non-profit organizations and government agencies at the local, provincial/territorial and federal levels.

    Iván:

    What are your professional goals as RIQEDI’s executive director for the year 2025?

    Bibiana:

    For the following months and during 2025, we plan to continue with several projects in collaboration with other organizations. From a professional point of view, RIQEDI is like a “baby”. In addition, it is a source of pride to know that the funding organizations, both at the provincial and federal level, consider it as an example of management, administration, research and advocacy capacity to raise awareness of the great diversity of issues related to the DEI field, not only in the province of Québec, but in the rest of Canada.

    As if this were not enough, we are planning a second “Forum of organizations: from theory to practice in DEI” in 2025. It is worth noting that the first forum held in February 2024 was a resounding success that exceeded all expectations, both in terms of convening capacity and positive response from participants.

    DEI is often thought to boil down to talking about basic terms like equity vs. equality, the sense of belonging or about microaggressions and unconscious biases. And as a DEI practitioner, there is some truth in the fact that we repeat these themes so much that they can become overwhelming. However, it is important to note that events like the “Forum of organizations” allow us to go further, addressing new topics, as happened this year with discussions on mental overload in DEI practitioners and the importance of speaking out, the support of trans people and their challenges in the workplace, the inclusion of ethnocultural diversity in organizations or how to reconcile DEI, disability and neurodiversity, just to cite four examples. This generates new conversations attracting other fields of research, allowing us to learn and expand our knowledge.

    In my opinion, as far as DEI is concerned, “No one can be an expert in everything.” It is a multidisciplinary sphere where the possibility of learning and educating is unlimited.

    Iván:

    Thank you very much for the time dedicated to this interview!

    For further information about Bibiana Pulido or RIQEDI, please contact: [email protected]

    Brazilian Canadian Chamber of Commerce. https://brazcanchamber.org/

    Canadian Hispanic Congress. https://canadianhispaniccongress.com/

    Chambre de commerce Québec et Amérique latine. https://www.quetal.cc/fr/

    Census Profile, 2021 Census of Population, 2023. https://www12.statcan.gc.ca/census-recensement/2021/dp-pd/prof/details/page.cfm?LANG=E&GENDERlist=1,2,3&STATISTIClist=1,4&DGUIDlist=2021A000011124&HEADERlist=31,30&SearchText=Canada. https://www12.statcan.gc.ca/census-recensement/2021/dp-pd/prof/details/page.cfm?LANG=E&GENDERlist=1,2,3&STATISTIClist=1,4&DGUIDlist=2021A000011124&HEADERlist=31,30&SearchText=Canada

    New statistics reveal Canada’s Latin American community includes more than 1.1 million people, New Canadian Media, 2023. https://www.newcanadianmedia.ca/new-statistics-reveal-canadas-latin-american-community-includes-more-than-1-1-million-people/#:~:text=The%202021%20census%20identified%20580%2C000,new%20data%20doubles%20that%20number.&text=Canada’s%20Hispanic%2DLatin%20American%20population,to%20identify%20a%20new%20number.

    Réseau interuniversitaire québécois pour l’équité, la diversité et l’inclusion. https://rqedi.com/

    What do Abya Yala and Pindorama mean, C & Latin America, 2023.

    Tags CDNdiversity CCDI Diversity Inclusion Equity Accessibility DEI DEIA Canadian Centre for Diversity and Inclusion Latin American Heritage Month

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    Latin American Heritage Month: An interview with Bibiana Pulido