Scratching the surface of institutional and systemic racism in Canada: A personal take

This piece was originally written in 2021 for my Social Policy class. Thought I would share. This is my personal perspective, my experience, my truth.

The term racism is define as  “prejudice, discrimination or antagonism directed against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethic group , typically one that is  minority or marginalized” (PowerPoint, Racism in Canada, May 27, 2021) . As a Black, immigrant woman living in a predominantly White society I have experienced systemic, cultural and individual  racism directly and indirectly. I am fully aware of the consequences, discriminations, stereotypes and biases that comes along with being Black, a woman and an immigrant.  I pay close attention to my surroundings, to the way I speak, the clothes I wear and even the people that I hang out with. I know that when someone looks at me, the first thing they see is my skin colour and whatever pre-conceived notion they have of what it means to be Black. I know this is how they see me and this is how they will treat me and I am prepared for whatever that treatment may be.

I have had the police called on me when I was sixteen years old for wearing a hoodie in the mall because I had the audacity to question the security guard about the rule. I wasn’t in any store, I wasn’t loitering, I was just walking through the mall alone trying to make my way home from school because it was the middle of winter and I was freezing cold. I was charged with trespassing and given a fine. I went to court because my mother refused to pay the fine because she knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I plead not guilty in court, the judge asked me if I wasn’t on the property illegally, I told her it was a mall. She told me that according to the report, the mall was private property and I had no right to be there. I didn’t understand, everyone goes to that mall, it was where we eat lunch, it was  a shortcut on our way home. The case was thrown out, not because I was found innocent but because the police officer did not show up in court. This was the first time I encountered the law, it wouldn’t be my last. I’ve never walked back through the mall and I  only went there if I had to buy something. 

I learned very early that even though the police were supposed to serve and protect. It is of no benefit to me or the Black community. The police simply serve their White counterparts and protect their White counterparts. I’ve been pulled over by the cops, the majority of time while having a Black male as the driver. The reasons  ranged from speeding, to running a red light, to not being able to see the license plate. The majority of times there are no tickets issued in these situations. My boyfriend and I had had the cops called on us twice while he was visiting his brother’s house in Oshawa. His brother lives in a predominantly White neighbourhood and was married to a White woman. The cops said that the neighbours reported that they saw someone suspicious lurking around. One of the definitions of suspicious is “having the belief that someone is involved in an illegal or dishonest activity”. For me the word suspicious seems to always be associated with being Black. 

My visible minority status has been a disadvantage that I would have to overcome. There’s a quote that said “we have to work twice as hard to gain half of what they have”; we mean a Black person and them meaning a White  person. I took that quote personally. My drive, my determination and my willingness to accomplish my goals set me on a path where failure would not be an option, but my race would always be an obstacle. When I started high school in Canada I was sixteen years old. I was told that I was going to be put in an English Speaking Language  English class and would  not be able to take tenth grade English until the next year and I would also be taking a remedial maths class. I  could not understand because I spoke English even though I had an accent and read and understood English very well. It was bad enough I was going to be put back in the tenth grade when I should be in the eleventh grade which means I was already behind. My mother once again had to come to my rescue to make sure they put me in the right classes. I was told by my tenth and eleventh grade English teachers that they were surprised at the way I write and the fact that I didn’t write the way I speak. I was confused because even though we speak patois in Jamaica, we read and write in the English language and I was an obsessive reader so writing came naturally to me. When I was applying for University, the guidance counsellor who was supposed to be helping me told me that he thinks it was better for me to apply to College and see how it feels and see if I could handle it because University is not for everyone.  Again I was confused, I wasn’t  a straight A student but my grades were great and I was on the honour role. While these high school experiences may seem simple from the outside looking in, I knew and felt that my immigrant status and my race was responsible for my experience. 

I spent five  years at York University and graduated with a honours BA in law and society and sociology. I later went to Seneca college and Everest College. I didn’t do this because I could afford it, I didn’t do this because of the love for education but did this because I was trying to get a job in the legal and social service field, something that I was passionate about. I did this because I knew that I had to work twice as hard, I knew that when they can get a job with a college diploma, I’m going to need a degree to go with it. “Black women are more likely to be unemployed than White women despite having higher education levels” (PowerPoint, Racism in Canada May 27, 2021 ). I have lived this, I have experienced this. I sent out resumes, went on multiple  interviews with my degree and two college diplomas. I heard them “no experience, no experience”. I asked myself how do I gain experience? I got the answer; volunteer.  I became a professional volunteer. I’ve volunteered in community services, legal clinics, Toronto police, immigration services and a probation office for over five years and still no job in the field. It went from no experience, to, “we will call you”.  I went on an interview once at a probation office. I spent almost half an hour on the outside waiting. I thought the interviewer was busy, the front desk person then came back and asked me for my file number and asked when my probation started. I told her I was here for an interview, she apologized and said I should have told her. She didn’t ask, she just wanted my name. Sending out resumes, going on interviews and getting nowhere took a tone on me. I felt defeated, I felt disappointed. I felt ashamed. I felt stuck. I did everything right but nothing seems to pay off. I fell into depression but had to find the strength to continue, I’m a mother now, I had to do better. 

I took jobs in retail, jobs in call centres and I sought help from employment agencies; I couldn’t do it on my own. I think I signed up with every employment agency that worked for the city of Toronto;  they couldn’t figure it out, they couldn’t help me.  I  changed and tweaked my resumes countless times, it did not make a difference. With a university degree and two college diplomas and multiple volunteer positions, things shouldn’t be this hard. I was in debt, my credit cards were almost maxed out, I couldn’t make the minimum payment. I applied for a job posting at a community centre which was close to home.  I could walk, save that extra money I would use on bus fare.  I got the job as a program assistant for an after-school program. It was part time, about four hours per day, minimum wage, but it was something, I could apply for any openings from the inside, this was my way in. I worked there for three years, I applied for every job opening they posted, I had never gotten a promotion and never gotten an interview. My breaking point came when the girl that I trained got a promotion over me even though she was only there for three months and another girl that I went to Everest College with was given a position that I couldn’t even get an interview for; both White females. One only had a high school diploma and the other a community service diploma from Everest College, no other experience in the field.  I asked for a private meeting with my White female supervisor. I asked her how comes they didn’t think of me for a promotion? I asked her how come I have never gotten an interview? She had no answer, she said they just never consider me, she apologized. I broke down, I didn’t understand, I worked hard, never late, never disrespectful and I was good at my job. I had to quit, there was no room for me to grow. I started looking for another job immediately. Today I worked full time in a child care centre, I was recommended by a friend, I jumped on the opportunity.  After a year of working in the centre, I decided to do the apprenticeship program and become an RECE, four times harder, my mind keeps telling me.

It is now 2021, I have never been called the N word, I have never been told that I can’t do something because I was Black, I have never been told that I won’t hire you because you are Black, I have never been told that we pulled you over because you are Black.  Just because I wasn’t told doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I’ve studied the  law, I know that race should not be a factor in hiring someone. I know that race should not be a factor when it comes to enforcing the law. I know that we have anti-racism legislation to combat racism in Canada. I know that Canada is a multicultural society and on the surface accepts and loves diversity. Just because I know it, doesn’t mean I am living it. I may love Canada, but the majority of time Canada does not love me.