Category: IDEA

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

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

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 50^th 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 50^th 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

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

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