“Racism is a form of oppression in which one racial group dominates over others” (Sensoy and DiAngelo, 2017, p. 39). The book discussed how white people are the dominant society and those of colour are considered minority.  Prior to this class I had not fully explored or understood the impacts of one culture being dominant. Growing up in a white family, being surrounded by primarily white friends and classmates, I had subconsciously engaged in being a stereotypical, naive, white individual, who at one point argued that I did not see colour.  However this class challenged me to think deeper about my whiteness and the privilege it presents; it stirred uncomfortable…

I choose to trouble the norms that often follow the word disability using my own life context. Goodley’s article stated, “people with intellectual disabilities seek to be recognized as human.” This hits close to home for me, as my brother received a diagnosis of ADHD at a very young age. My own views of ableism and disability were put into question because the primary emotion I felt watching him was sympathy. Goodley referenced having an intellectual disability as being seen as the “no-man’s land in-between disability and humanity”. I witnessed many interactions where the same was expected from my brother without any tools being provided to allow his success. Because…

It was a crisp fall morning and the morning car ride felt long and bumpy. I had fresh blueberry muffins sitting in my lap. It was a school day but not an ordinary one, me and two of my other friends were going on an “experience” according to my teacher. We had each bought 2 bags full of fresh home cooked muffins, and as the smell wafted in the air of my teacher’s minivan we began our venture. As we slowly turned the corner arriving at the school our teacher Mrs. M. had just finished explaining that our food was going to help other kids to insure they didn’t go…

I woke up with the sun beaming through my window directly into my sleepy eyes, “wake up” my mom said. I jumped up with excitement, put on my black shorts with my sky blue t-shirt, and raced to her room so she could put bouncy curls in my hair. It was take you kid to work day, my mom is an elementary school principal and I from a very young age I wanted to be just like her. We were just about to leave the house and my mom had asked if I put the clothes I had grown out of and a few of my favourite books into the…

The clock ticked down 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… a high pitched buzzer screamed one of the team captains chucked a half court shot in an attempt to make one last swish. The remainder of the guys came to a forceful halt. Suddenly there were no more squeaking shoes, yelling coaches, cheering fans, or teammates encouraging each other. The vibrations from the ball hitting the wooden floors had fallen flat, the game had ended. Their jerseys filled with sweat and their heads hung low as our school’s senior boys basketball team shook the winners hands. Despite the loss the crowd stayed seated until the men had exited the court.  It…

Some of the most powerful lessons in my schooling have been lessons learned in our school gymnasium which donned giant bolded words on the wall stating “Where Effort and Kindness Counts” (Jack Mackenzie). Kindness was a value within the brick walls of that building and stuck to every child who attended, no search was required to attain the quote because it has been embedded in my brain. As I have grown and travelled, primarily to the United States, I have expanded my theory that not only do Jack Mackenzie Coyotes hold themselves to these standards. Being a Canadian is different for every human being, but when it comes to kindness…