Category Archives: Reflection

Hold your head up…

Dandelion photo

In this piece, Jenna Kring, Four Directions Indigenous Student Centre’s Indigenous Programs and Events Associate, shares some inspiring words about being a safe space for others

Hold your head up

Lift the top of your mind

Put your eyes on the Earth

Lift your heart to your own home planet

What do you see?

Carry it on: Buffy Sainte Marie 

Shé:kon sewakwé:kon, Jenna Kring iónkia’ts. Kanien’kéha:ka niwakonhontisó:ten. I find myself getting lost in thinking of what the future will bring, even though the future is out of my control. Taking a moment to breathe and seeing ways I can improve on the now can help influence the future. I must start somewhere, how about today, with myself. As a Two-Spirit person, I strive to cultivate being a safe space for others. By using self-reflection to monitor my actions and continuing with independent education on issues that surround daily life. Acknowledging I have no control over how others react or feel towards me. I can, however, control my actions and speech and make my own space in this world. By finding my voice to advocate for myself, I can have a strong voice to advocate for those who need one. 

Working together as a group to create a safer place for each other can start on the individual level. By self-reflecting on how to improve my mindset and make others feel safer around me. How can I cultivate a safe space and continue to do so? Self-reflection can be key, by reflecting on how I handled past situations. Self-improvement can lead to change, on an individual level and a systematic level. Being able to draw people to you means you are not alone and when people are united, change can happen. Hopefully, change for the better.

I want to keep my eyes open to the world around me, like how Buffy Sainte Marie sings “what do you see?”. I want to answer that call and say, “a better world.” This may take a long time and a lot of work to get there. I hope to see that better world and start by looking inwards towards myself. Nya:wen’kó:wa

Speaking Up with Love (and maybe a glass of wine)


In this blog, Vanessa McCourt, Academic Advisor and Undergraduate Program Coordinator in the School of Kinesiology and Health Studies, talks about the importance of having courageous conversations


I’ve never been one to speak up. I get red and flushed in the face, my underarms sweat, the right words don’t come, and I feel REALLY uncomfortable. So, for those reasons, when people have said something that I think is offensive – either directed to me or someone else – I usually keep quiet.

Fast forward 40 years (well, minus the two years before I could speak), I read a Facebook post that made me really upset. Then to my husband’s chagrin, I responded back with my own comments. Of course, this started a commenting frenzy of defending opinions.

The person who posted is my neighbor. The neighbor who is nice to my kids, a great mom, and all-around lovely person.

After about ten comments or so, my neighbor suggested that we needed to sit down together with a glass of wine and discuss our viewpoints on the issue. I agreed.

However, before we had that glass of wine, she posted AGAIN with her support for a certain ex-hockey commentator! I thought to myself, ‘we’ll probably need the whole bottle to get through this!’

We eventually sat down and talked. What I learned from that experience is that in order to undergo a process of unlearning, we must experience an embodied connection. Although we didn’t agree, our talk together cemented that connection – something a Facebook comment could never do.

In the Ted Talk entitled “Get comfortable with being uncomfortable,” Luvvie Ajayi says, “people and systems count on our silence to keep us exactly where we are.” I didn’t want to keep silent any longer. I didn’t want to stay where I was or have my neighbor stay stuck in her thoughts and opinions either.

What I also learned from Luvvie’s talk was the importance of asking myself three questions before speaking up:

  1. Do I mean it?
  2. Can I defend it?
  3. Can I say it with love?

I tried to keep this in mind when talking with my neighbor, and we are both better because of our talk. And, a glass of wine (or two) definitely helps!

Rediscovering my identity: a biracial journey


In our February blog, Nathan Utioh, Residence Life Coordinator, narrates his experience as a biracial person and analyses the impact of an interesting journey of re-learning

I grew up in a small town in rural Manitoba, the younger of two- my mom is a white woman who grew up in the prairies and my dad is a black man who emigrated from Nigeria. Apart from the kids of my parents’ friends, I do not remember other black kids at my school through elementary years and none in my class until high school. It is not an understatement to recognize that I was limited in the scale of diversity I was exposed growing up.

At the same time, I know the smells of my dad’s fufu and pepper soup and can hear the rhythm of the music he would play around the house. So, while being biracial, I was always comfortable self-identifying as Black and while knowing that my brother and I were different, I didn’t think much about or contend with my identity.

Fast forward to 2016. For the first time, I am going to Nigeria with my Dad to stay where he was raised, meet my Nigerian family for the first time, and see how he came to grow from “the poorest family in the village” to leaving for Canada on a scholarship.

In meeting a side of my family I had never seen or spoken with I was embraced as though we had known each other our entire lives. Regardless of this being my first visit, I immediately knew I was home and felt like one of the family. That said, at times when we were out in the city, I overheard on a few occasions people gesture and say something in my direction. I had to ask my dad what they were saying, I was told they were commenting about me being ‘a White person’ walking about the area.

This was the first time I had ever been referred to as White, even though I knew that some biracial people do identify themselves as white or hold a protean identity[i], shifting between Black, White, and biracial. For me, I was thrown back a little, even a little defensive as I felt as though my identity was being challenged. Over time I have been rethinking my understanding of my identity, coming to recognize that the reason why I was thrown was because of my own internalized racism[ii]. I felt that because I grew up in a predominantly White community and didn’t have a strong connection with a Black community I wasn’t “Black enough.”

The problem with this reasoning is of course, that race is a social construct and I don’t have a right to expect that strangers with cultural and ethnic experiences that differ from my own need to see me as one who shares a common identity. Yes, on the one hand, being in White dominated spaces means that as I continue to unlearn how I think about race and identity, I still identify as Black; living in White dominated spaces I will always be aware of how I exist in that context. On the other hand, because of shadeism and internalized White supremacy, there are barriers and biases that I may not face.

So in the years since my visit home I have been taking stock of the biases and beliefs that I have been putting on myself and other people of colour. I make more time to expose myself to the voices and experiences of other people – reminding myself that I can have my perspectives shaped by my experiences without minimizing or diminishing the stories of others. Often our friend groups look like us and are fairly homogenous[iii], so I try to put myself in situations where I can continue to learn.

In my work I continue to advocate for ways that we can increase the diversity of our team and create spaces to ensure that the staff from underrepresented communities feel welcome and supported. I also get involved in committee work and seek training that is focused on inclusion on campus.

For you, here are a few easy ideas that you can try:

– Read a more diverse slate of authors

– Complete training offered by the Human Rights and Equity Office

– Seek opportunities to learn from others both on campus and in the community

– Elevate the voices of those who are asking for change to make Queen’s feel like home

I am appreciative of the opportunity to more thoughtfully consider my identity as a Black biracial person, the context I live in as it relates to systems of oppression, and how I can be more actively involved in anti-oppression work in my life. The opportunity to unlearn some of the biases and beliefs we carry around identity and to relearn how to be anti-racist in our actions will help us think about the impact of the work that we do. I know that it has for me.



[i] Rockquemore, K., & Brunsma, D. L. (2008). Beyond Black: Biracial Identity in America. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 39.

[ii] Bivens, D. Internalized Racism: a definition. Racial Equity Tools. Retrieved from:

[iii] Jones, R. P., Navarro-Rivera, J. and Cox, D. Race, Religion, and Political Affiliation of Americans’ Core Social Networks. PRRI. 2016

My safety: Rethinking safe spaces through intentional community building

Hands together

In our January blog, Mofi Badmos, Diversity and Inclusivity Coordinator at the Smith School of Business, talks about the importance of community and how creating spaces for BIPoC individuals is key to fostering belonging

We finish our third book club meeting discussing Akwaeke Emezi’s Freshwater, with so much awe and gratitude that I say to my friend and book club member “wow, I can’t believe we continue to make this happen”. I am stunned at how five Black women, in four different countries, across different time zones come together, in community, to discuss books and themes all connected through our different but shared experiences as Black women navigating society.

Our lazily named Best Book Club was intentional on the membership being Black and non-Black racialized women from African countries reading books by other Black and non-Black racialized African authors. There is something to be said about community, and being with others who have shared experiences is comforting, healing, and rejuvenating.

Community is central to my life and wellbeing. I grew up in Lagos, Nigeria surrounded by family, friends and members of my community. I always had people and this cemented the feelings and benefits of having a network around. Moving to Kingston in 2016 for work exposed me to the many challenges of making friends and creating community in adulthood, especially in a space lacking in representation of Black people and the ability gather, effortlessly. There are significant comforts and unsaid ways of being that come with being in spaces with other Black and brown folks that I have to let go of in my day-to-day life. In many instances, I have not felt like myself and I continue to yearn for, crave, and create those communities where I can just be.

This drew me to ponder the many ways in which members of marginalized groups create and maintain community, in-person and online. It is important to have a discussion around the need of spaces and communities that are centered around marginalized groups and especially dispel the notion that the creation of these spaces is sexist, racist, and exclusionary for members of the dominant culture(s).


Rethinking safe spaces 

Safe Space, a term that is used often at the start of events, workshops, and sessions is a call to action to ensure that everyone in that space feels safe, is not exposed to harm, and, hopefully, is protected if safety is not met. The concept of safe spaces is contested because, among other reasons, how can organizers really ensure safety. The uncertainty around guaranteeing a safe space can be attributed to the systems of oppression that exist within those spaces. A way to work towards what can be a safe space for members of marginalized groups is controlling for the representation of the systems of oppression in that space, among other things.


Wine and Whine was a feminist, women-only party organized in Lagos, Nigeria in 2019 to create a space where women could have fun and party without the fears of harassment and violence. Some conversations around this questioned if “exclusionary” spaces are necessary when the focus should be on creating space where all can exist. Yes, that would be the goal but that is not the reality for women and other folks, as we exist in society.

To have this conversation is to understand that anti-Black racism, racism, sexism, transphobia and other forms of oppression are deeply systemic and are not just results of interpersonal issues. Consider the fact that spaces reflecting the dominant culture (whiteness, heteronormativity, patriarchy, able-bodied) have existed, continue to exist, and are tainted with superiority, privilege, erasure and inaccessibility.  Any space created in contrast to this is not reflecting the current power structures but rather subverting them. To have this conversation is also to understand that the aim of intentional community building is to create safe spaces for Black and brown folks to share experiences and discuss forms of systemic oppression without the lurking presence of those systems.


Creating your space

I think about this frequently and especially in my work as the Diversity and Inclusivity coordinator at the Smith School of Business. I continue to think about how I can create space for equity-seeking students without further othering1 them. I see and can relate with the challenges that come from being in a white dominated space, wanting to connect with other Black and brown folks but not wanting that to be your only identity. The strength and validation that comes from intentionally creating your space is worth more than the illusion that fitting in can offer. Black and racialized people continue to be told that we have to limit ourselves in order to succeed, but a key part that is missing is that community is our fuel and as Black and brown folks, our coming together continues to be the fear of the dominant society. So tap into that as much as you can and like.

Intentional community building inspired the co-founding of Black Luck Collective, a community meet-up group aimed at bringing together new and seasoned Black Kingstonians to uncover our dependable and visible community through social, educational, and professional occasions. I felt the need to create this group, as I felt disconnected from my community living in Kingston and working in white dominated spaces. The limitation in self-expression, code switching, racism and micoaggressions, highlighted the importance of creating a space that does not include those things and where we can share shared experiences with understanding.

I implore readers not to lean to the initial reaction of wondering what-of-members-of-the-dominant-culture that this is excluding but think what is this doing for members of this community and how are they benefitting from this. Community gathering has always existed, but in spaces where people find themselves excluded or marginalized there is much relevance in creating space. As a member of a dominant culture that wants to attend a gathering as a way of support, I implore you to think about this and think about how much space you occupy in the way of infringing on true self-expression and comfort that these spaces bring. Reflect on your privilege and positionality as it can inform better ways you can show support and ally-ship.

I hope members of the Queen’s community; especially the students I work with will see the relevance of intentionally creating space and community for Black, Brown and other People Of Colour to be able to exist truthfully and hopefully in safety. In the great words of Audre Lorde “Without community, there is no liberation”


1Othering: a set of dynamics, processes, and structures that engender marginality and persistent inequality across any of the full range of human differences based on group identities.  (powell, j. a., & Menendian, S. (2018, August 29). The Problem of Othering: Towards Inclusiveness and Belonging. Retrieved January 16, 2020, from

We See the World as We Are

The Bubble Map Exercise

In this blog, our contributor Kevin Collins, the Student Development Coordinator at Queen’s, writes about the importance of understanding our own identities in order to learn how to navigate differences respectfully

This year’s blog theme is unlearning and relearning. My career has given me the opportunity to try my hand at these things. It’s a process that I feel fortunate to have regular opportunities to engage in.

My background is in international and comparative education. Through living and teaching overseas, I’ve been able to see how different educational systems work based on cultural context. As a teacher in South Korea and Sweden, I felt that I was learning about how different educational systems work. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was viewing things through my own lens based on my culture and identity. When I saw students in Korea attending school on Saturdays, or students in Sweden calling teachers by their first names, I disagreed with these practices because I was used to the schooling model that I grew up with. I didn’t seek to fully understand educational practices from the perspective of the people who were a part of the systems in which I was a visitor. I’ve since been able to reframe my experiences with the knowledge that who I am and my prior lived experiences shape the way that I see the world.

There’s an activity that I often do with students to help frame and personalize this idea: The Bubble Map. I first used the activity when I worked on the Intercultural Learning Program at U of T. In front of the group, I write my name in the centre of a piece of chart paper and then draw circles around it and write in some of the cultural affinity groups that I belong to. Cultural affinity groups include age, race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, religion, places you’ve lived, hobbies and interests. I introduce myself to the group and talk about how the cultural affinity groups that I belong to have values, attitudes, norms and practices associated with them. As a gay man who enjoys the outdoors and loves dogs, I really like to go on hikes with my dog and my boyfriend. Someone who is a cat lover, or who prefers city life, might not feel the same way.

I also talk with the group about how the affinity groups that we belong to, or the pieces of our identities, intersect. We can’t say that experiences are the same for everyone in a certain group, because not everyone belongs to the same set of groups. Additionally, some groups we choose to be a part of, and others we are born into. Some parts of who we are are visible, and other parts we can choose to share or not share. There’s a great deal more that could be discussed here related to power and privilege, but the Bubble Map is a nice intro into culture and identity.

After I introduce myself, I ask the students to create their own maps. I let them know that they can include as much or as little as they are comfortable with. They then introduce themselves to each other. The conversations that I hear are amazing:

  • Someone with one parent and another with four parents talking about what family life was like growing up
  • A Kingstonian sharing how Toronto feels too busy with a person from Shanghai who thinks that Toronto is fairly quiet and small compared to what they are used to
  • A piano player and a sailor comparing and contrasting the values, beliefs, norms and practices associated with their hobbies

How does all of this relate to unlearning and relearning? I think that we often make assumptions about things based on who we are and our lived experiences. By examining how culture and identity impact our perceptions it allows us to think reflexively. Additionally, by opening ourselves up to hear from others who are different from us, we can better understand them and the way that they see the world. Doing so can change our thinking, making us more empathetic. Learning how to navigate differences respectfully is key in fostering a more inclusive campus.

Learning, Unlearning and Relearning

Mirror photo

In the first blog of the year, Lauren Winkler, a Kanien’keha:ka student at Queen’s, talks about her journey relearning to love herself in the different roles of her life: daughter, sister, niece, grandchild, and friend


“Education is what got us here, education is what will get us out.” – Senator Murray Sinclair

When I think of university, or post-secondary education, or life for that matter, one word comes to mind: opportunity. Coming to Queen’s I was excited about the opportunity to live on my own, to make new friends, to find myself (because at the time I thought that was something that would just happen… I only wish), and to learn. Sure enough, I have thrived living in my independence, made lifelong friends, and gained a better sense of who I am. What I did not anticipate were the challenges to my own way of thinking that would come from my professors and peers, the different perspectives and life experiences that would be shared with me, and how strengthening my values would shift how I learned and perceived the world. Before university, I always saw learning as linear, but I now understand it to be a lifelong process in which I will learn, unlearn, and relearn. I believe that the more you learn, the better equipped you are to practice empathy, engage in meaningful discussion, and be a catalyst for change.

It was during my undergraduate degree that I first heard the term “unlearning” and it was not until this past summer that I truly understood the concept of “relearning.”

Usually when I tell my story, it heavily focuses on my identity as an Indigenous student. Today, however, I want to embrace my vulnerability and share a different narrative. I want to tell you about how I am relearning to love myself. To love myself as a daughter, sister, niece, grandchild, and friend. To love myself as a woman, as a Mohawk woman, a student, as a law student. To love myself as an advocate for Indigenous peoples, as a student to my culture, as a member of the Onkwehon:we community. To do this, I have had to unlearn toxic pressures and expectations that I put on myself, unlearn my view of vulnerability as being negative, and unlearn stigmas attached to mental health and mental illness. In the past year, I have learned that eating disorders are not solely a result of body image, I have learned that healing is not linear, and I have learned that sharing my own story helps others to validate their own. Struggling with depression, anxiety, and disordered eating, I have had to relearn patience with myself, relearn to validate my thoughts and feelings, and relearn loving myself for who I am.

You will have noticed that at the beginning of this post I included a quote by Senator Murray Sinclair. Where his quote is referring to the residential school system and the power that education has in the process of reconciliation, I think that his message on education can be applied to any situation. I truly believe that we all have so much to learn from one another and that we would all be in a better place if we genuinely listened to and engaged with one another. If we unlearned narratives that we have been taught about one another. If we relearn how to connect with one another to work towards a larger purpose. To me, that is the power of learning, unlearning, and relearning – they are processes that I will be humbly engaging in my whole life and the thought excites me.