Racism in Canada and the people who are living it
IN THEIR OWN WORDS As the world focuses on the racial turmoil in the U.S., some Canadians share their experiences
As racial tensions explode in the U.S. following the death of George Floyd at the hands of police, leaders in Canada warn that anti-Black racism doesn’t stop at the border.
Canadians have also taken to the streets in solidarity, with leaders quick to dispel what they say are misconceptions that racial tensions only exist in the U.S.
“Racism exists in Canada. Anti-Black racism exists in Canada. Police brutality exists in Canada,” read signs at a protest that drew thousands in Toronto last weekend. It was led by the family of Regis Korchinski-Paquet, a Black woman who fell to her death after police responded to a call at her home last week. A Minneapolis police officer is charged with murder in connection with Floyd’s death, while the full details of Korchinski-Paquet’s death are unclear and subject to an investigation by Ontario’s Special Investigations Unit.
The Star asked people across Canada to share their experiences with racism and their wishes for the future.
As U of T medical school’s only black graduate in 2020 and valedictorian, Dr. Chika Oriuwa spent much of her school years advocating for med school diversity and “a world where it will be safer for us to simply exist.”
Photographer Yasin Osman, who lost a friend at the hands of police, says racism is not an illness, but a “choice to be a terrible person.”
For DJ Chanelle Marshall, the war against racism doesn’t end once social media posts die down. “I’m exhausted. But I will always be up for this battle.”
Photographer and director Teaunna Gray’s Instragram post “Dear White People” urges reflection: “When you come across examples shared by Black voices, do not take it as an attack on you personally — take the time to listen.”
And in a touching letter to his daughter, lawyer Anthony N. Morgan worries about the pain she faces in the future, but is reassuring: “Sweetheart, forever and always, your beautiful Black life matters.”
Five stories, in their own words.
Monday morning, the day before I earned my doctor of medicine degree from the University of Toronto, I awoke to an online comment that stated “I would never let her treat me.” This was tweeted in response to a Toronto Star article written about my narrative of being the only Black student in a class of 259, and now graduating as valedictorian after being selected by my peers.
These words came as a blow to me, despite it not being the first time I have been told this on online platforms, but also in my experience as a medical student on clinical rotations.
I have spent the past four years tirelessly advocating for diversity in medical education, equity in medical admissions and enhancing inclusive practices across all professional spheres. This has culminated in being invited to give over two dozen keynotes, seminars, and panelist discussions, alongside writing articles and engaging in public education through media syndication.
However, like many advocates, this left me vulnerable to attacks on my character and merit as a physician. Throughout the last four years, I have fielded several racist and sexist comments and have tried to develop an armour against this kind of vitriol. I am fortunate to have the support of the community and their rallying messages of encouragement at this time.
Yet, there is a part of me that broke with disillusion over the past week. There is a misconception that once you’ve attained a certain level of success, education and accolade as a Black person, you would somehow become immune to the racism.
I will admit that even I held onto this notion. I thought that when I finally earned my medical degree and joined the ranks of this noble profession, they would only ever respectfully view me as Dr. Oriuwa.
The aforementioned tweet reminded me — poignantly within a day of becoming a physician — that there is no escaping the vise-like grip of anti-Blackness. It exists in the fabric of our society, throughout all systems and strikes without impunity.
And so, during a time where there is civil unrest due to persistent anti-Black violence in Canada and abroad, I am reminded more than ever the importance of aligning myself closely with my community.
I am, and have always been, immensely proud to be a Black woman and physician. I cannot divorce my identity from my profession because the world has not given me that allowance, and I wouldn’t do so if the opportunity arose.
Through my professional, clinical, and community work I will strive to address anti-Blackness in all of its permutations, and hope to create a world where it will be safer for us to simply exist.