Black History Month
Illustration by Adanna Scott
02 NEWS
Community voices shed light on missing persons cases in Ontario
Mashiyat Ahmed Opinions Editor
As a disproportionate number of Black youth go missing, important questions about the systemic response to these crises raise concerns about media attention and accountability.
On December 18, 2024, multi-media creator Shana McCalla issued an online petition calling for immediate action by law enforcement forces to respond to the alarming amount of Black youth who have gone missing since October 2024.
Six families in the Durham, Brampton, Toronto, and Niagara regions have been impacted so far, with community members raising concerns over the fact that the young boys—all similar in age and racial background—have disappeared under suspicious circumstances.
McCalla’s heartfelt petition, which has garnered 4,453 signatures out of a goal of 5,000, speaks to the relative lack of comprehensive media coverage and public outcry at these disappearances, evidenced by the lack of amber alerts issued as these boys went missing. The petition demands law enforcement’s immediate prioritization of the needs of the Black community in their police response through actions like providing regular updates.
City of Toronto, [55 per cent of which were Black], we have located everyone except seven who are still outstanding.” Out of the seven still missing, four are Black. Critically, out of the 110 missing Black youth, 106 of them were located and returned safely to their families. A representative from the Toronto Police Service (TPS) confirmed that the force has their best detectives on these remaining cases.
Vanessa went on to criticize professionals present at the meeting, saying that broad brushstrokes are used to paint Black communities in such a way that prevents equitable and genuine coverage of experiences and crises affecting the community.
“The majority of us [the Black community] were only made
Calling the silence around these cases unacceptable, McCalla writes in the petition, “These boys deserve every effort to bring them home, and their families deserve answers. This is about ensuring that when our children go missing, the same urgency and resources are applied as they would be for anyone else.”
Inside the Black Empowerment Unit’s Town Hall meeting
During the first week of January, Brampton’s Black Empowerment Unit (BEU) organized a virtual Town Hall meeting to address the growing concerns of community members and the subsequent police response to the recent uptick of missing Black youth. Members of the BEU’s Youth Development Unity, several law enforcement forces, and Brampton Mayor Patrick Brown were present to shed light on what’s being done to resolve this crisis.
The meeting also aimed to contextualize this recent string of disappearances with broader statistics on how many individuals go missing each year based on demographics, and the variety of societal and personal factors that precipitate mysterious disappearances. Over 500 people were in attendance to find answers, which Mayor Brown called an “extraordinary level of participation.”
According to Toronto Police Detective Shona Peterson, in 2024, out of the 200 missing or disappeared youth, 110 were Black. However, “out of all 200 missing youths in 2024 in the
During the meeting, important questions and concerns were raised as to why a disproportionate number of young Black boys were missing. The reasons, cites David Mitchell, the Senior Advisor for the Youth Association for Academics, Athletics, and Character Education, are complex. “One of the things we know in the space of missing young people is that young people are running to something or running away from something.”
Systemic challenges with the education and criminal justice systems, bullying, inadequate mental health services, especially in the Black community, and under-resourced environments with lacking community support are all viable reasons why young Black boys represent a disproportionate number of missing individuals. On top of this, drug culture, abuse, and neglect, according to Mitchell, corrupt youth.
Community concerns
Community members, including family members and parents, had a chance to voice their dissatisfaction and hope during the meeting. Vanessa, a family member of a boy who had gone missing, said that “the labels that are being attached to these missing teens is unbelievable. It feels like their disappearances are so generalized [...] It’s a stigma embedded in our society and Canada as a whole, that a large majority of Black families, Black youth and children, are coming from broken homes or are engaged in drugs and gangs. And that’s just not true.”
aware of this pattern of missing teens because of the African news diaspora. The general public has never been made aware of these missing kids and I feel it’s about time that our community deserve the same concern that would be applied should this have happened to any other ethnic group in Canada.”
“We need to stop adding drugs, gangs, and broken homes into the equation,” Vanessa emphasized. Her concerns echo those of many others present at the meeting and beyond.
In a separate interview with Now Toronto, representatives from the TPS said that “while it’s true that Black youth are reported missing more frequently than youth of other races, the rumour that Black youths are currently unaccounted for is not true.”
Over 96 per cent of all missing cases are resolved, which many community members, parents, and family members present at the BEU’s meeting called amazing. Police confirm that they are committed to “locating and ensuring the safety” of those who are still missing.
Still, community members remain frustrated at the lack of media attention and continue to call for systemic changes, such as implementing amber alerts specifically for missing Black youth.
Illustration by Adanna Scott
Photo by Sara Li
UTMSU continues its push for the revision of Credit/No Credit
Aaron Calpito Associate News Editor
The Medium interviewed UTMSU’s VP of University Affairs to gain insight into the Union’s progress on the campaign.
The Credit/No Credit (CR/NCR) option is one of the most powerful course management tools available to students at the University of Toronto Mississauga (UTM).
According to the current policy, a student can apply CR/NCR through ACORN to prevent their final numerical grade for a course from appearing on their transcript. Instead, they will receive a notation of “CR” or “NCR,” depending on whether their final grade is at least 50 per cent.
As such, it is very useful for students who wish to fulfill distribution requirements or explore courses without putting their grade point average on the line.
However, using CR/NCR comes with some limitations—a student cannot use CR/NCR to fulfill program requirements; a student can only use the option for a maximum of two credits; and a student can only apply or remove CR/NCR before the term’s final exam period.
So when Sidra Ahsan ran for Vice President of University Affairs of the UTM Students’ Union (UTMSU) last year, one of the main focuses of her campaign was to advocate for the extension of the deadline to invoke the CR/NCR policy.
Nearly a year into her term, Ahsan shed some light on the Union’s progress with the Extend CR/NCR initiative in an online interview with The Medium.
What’s the rationale?
Ahsan says the UTMSU is currently trying to convince the University of Toronto (U of T) administration to move the CR/NCR deadline to the last day students receive their final grades. She holds that at its core, the Extend CR/NCR initiative is about students’ well-being and defending their academic interests.
“We want to advocate for students to be able to make an informed choice when they use the CR/NCR policy,” she explained. “A lot of people report their mental health being affected by making these decisions beforehand and not using CR/NCR as a result.”
Ahsan emphasized the unfairness of prohibiting students from deciding whether to use CR/NCR around the time they write their finals. “Students should get to see their final grades before they decide [to use CR/NCR]. Sometimes exams are 50 per cent [of your final grade] and you can’t really estimate how well you’re going to do.”
She asserted that “the general consensus is that students do want this policy and that it would benefit them.” According to a UTMSU lobby document released in 2023, 98 per cent of UTM students are in favour of the Union’s proposal to extend the CR/NCR deadline.
Getting by, looking ahead
Reflecting on the progress the UTMSU has made on the initiative since last spring, Ahsan highlighted a UTORid-protected survey concerning Extend CR/NCR which was created in collaboration with the student unions at the U of T St. George and Scarborough campuses.
She stressed that in previous years, although all the students’ unions were advocating to extend CR/NCR, their efforts were largely disjointed. Much of her work has been to facilitate communication and unity across the campuses to work towards the
initiative. Ahsan and the students’ unions have evidently been successful in that regard.
“Creating that survey and getting out all of that data on paper and analyzing it, I’d say that’s the biggest accomplishment thus far.” The UTMSU is now preparing to present the data from that survey to the university administration.
Looking ahead, she anticipates that logistics will continue to be the biggest obstacle to making Extend CR/NCR a success. She explained, “It’s not just a policy where someone can just sign off on something and then it can be applied. There’s a lot of different stakeholders involved.”
Ahsan said the UTMSU will focus on working in concert with the other students’ unions and organizing a meeting with as many relevant administrators as possible to “lobby every single person we can at the same time.”
As it stands, the CR/NCR policy functions the same across all three U of T campuses.
For comparison, York University’s Pass/Fail option functions similarly to U of T’s CR/NCR. However, York’s policy requires that students complete 24 credits before using it (a course typically garners three or six credits).
The University of Guelph’s Credit/No Credit grading option and McMaster University’s Personal Interest Course option are similar to U of T’s policy, although the rules for using them are stricter.
Finally, Toronto Metropolitan University, the University of Ottawa, and Wilfred Laurier University do not seem to have any permanent CR/NCR policies. However, each of these schools applied a temporary CR policy during the Covid-19 pandemic.
Canada’s Liberal Party leadership race underway
After announcing his resignation from his role as Prime Minister on January 5, the Liberal Party of Canada is looking for its new leader and the country’s twenty-fourth prime minister. Following Justin Trudeau’s resignation, the race for prime minister was narrowed down to five candidates—Mark Carney, Chrystia Freeland, Karina Gould, Frank Baylis, and Ruby Dhalla.
As of January 31, Carney is taking the lead with 63 caucus endorsements, Freeland with 26 and Gould with two. Carney seems to have an edge over Freeland, with data from the Angus Reid Institute indicating that voters will be more favourable to a Carney-led Liberal party than Freeland. However, both must continue to appeal to party members, all while the Conservatives maintain their lead among prospective voters.
Meanwhile, Gould has promised to temporarily cut the federal sales tax on goods and services to four per cent if she succeeds Trudeau as prime minister. Baylis is pursuing what he calls his “prosperity” agenda for Canada” and is hopeful of addressing the cost of living, improving healthcare, and updating the government for greater efficiency. Additionally, Dhalla is focused on standing up for Canadians and has promised to deport illegal immigrants living in Canada. She will also be the first woman of colour to serve as prime minister if she is elected.
The country’s next prime minister and Liberal Party leader will be announced on March 9.
January News Briefs
Donald Trump sworn as president yet again
On January 20, Donald Trump was sworn in as the forty-seventh president of the US during his inauguration ceremony. Several notable figures attended the event, including foreign dignitaries, tech giants, Supreme Court justices, celebrities, the outgoing administration, as well as the new Cabinet. TikTok CEO Shou Zi also attended and was seated separately from other tech leaders.
The ceremony marked the first time in the country’s history that foreign leaders were welcomed to a president’s inauguration.
In his first week, Trump signed dozens of executive orders, including ending birthright citizenship and pardons for January 6 rioters. He also ordered the release of classified documents on the assassinations of John F Kennedy, Robert F Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. Additionally, he announced a US$500 billion artificial intelligence (AI) infrastructure investment, calling it the “largest AI infrastructure project in history.”
He also reversed an order to regulate and monitor AI risks passed by former President Joe Biden.
Ceasefire announced between Israel and Hamas
On January 15, a ceasefire deal between Israel and Hamas was announced. After 15 months of war, the ceasefire began four days later on January 19. Brokered after negotiations led by the US, Qatar, and Egypt, the ceasefire will be performed in three separate stages, which have been designed to ensure a smooth and safe transition for all parties.
The first stage is set to last for 42 days, this stage includes a complete ceasefire, accompanied by Hamas’ release of 33 hostages and Israel’s release of approximately 1,900 Palestinian prisoners. Israeli forces will also leave populated
areas but remain in Gaza’s Northern borders. Displaced Palestinians will be permitted to return to their residences and significant amounts of aid will be allowed into the region each day.
Sixteen days after the start of stage one, the second stage will mark the establishment of an indefinite ceasefire and will include the complete withdrawal of Israeli forces and continued hostage and prisoner exchanges.
Samuel Kamalendran News Editor
Tyler Medeiros Contributor
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Is Black History Month a celebration or a convenience?
Mariana Dominguez Rodriguez Contributor
Is dedicating a single month to Black history a meaningful step towards equity, or does it reinforce the very marginalization it seemingly works to destroy?
Lately, I’ve been thinking about Black History Month (BHM) and Pride Month, and whether the exclusive celebratory time frame of recognition of such identities causes unintentional harm towards the very identities they try to recognize. While these commemorative months are intended to amplify marginalized voices, they often highlight the uncomfortable paradox of visibility. When recognition is temporary and powered through mass consumption, does it normalize a depreciation of historically marginalized voices for the remaining eleven months?
On the surface, BHM is a period of reflection, education, and honouring the contributions of Black trailblazers that have shaped our society. It serves as a counterweight to forgetting and neglecting, an antidote to a history that has let people of colour and other “minorities” fall through the cracks. Yet, its very existence raises deeper concerns about how society engages with history and identity. If Black History Month is truly integral to national and global history, why is it compartmentalized into a single month? Conveniently, it has become a performativity asset, an item on an acceptance checklist for institutions that otherwise fail or underappreciate Black perspectives.
The
performance problem
The performance problem is a substantial one. Universities, corporations, and media platforms have embraced BHM for years as a branding opportunity rather than a genuine commitment to change. In February, social media floods with celebratory posts, companies release limited-edition products stamped with BHM graphics, and institutions highlight Black leaders, only for all of this momentum to diminish significantly as soon as March hits. This cycle is emblematic of the broader issue of performative alliance: grand gestures with little-to-no meaningful follow-though.
In universities specifically, BHM is proudly boasted by panels and faculty to distribute carefully curated reading lists, yet fails to address issues such as faculty diversity, equitable funding, and systemic biases in admissions. Even if faculty hiring decisions are informed, appropriately, by a lens that acknowledges and aims to remedy historical exclusion, institutions such as universities remain hierarchical. Restricted to just one month, a few hires, or a single initiative, these practices are simply scaffolding that does little to incorporate Black representation into the existing organizational structure. The people at the top, who are still predominantly white, are making DEI decisions. Is this truly empowering? Or does it just play within the margins of a system built on exclusion and de-prioritization?
Similarly, businesses leverage BHM for marketing, while Black employees continue to experience workplace discrimination, wage gaps, and a lack of corporate growth. This raises the question, is BHM actually advancing Black communities or is it merely an illusion of progress?
Who does selective storytelling serve?
and achieve racial equality. That’s, in fact, a rather superficial analysis of what King stood for. King was steadfast in his convictions that Black resistance and true racial equality could not be achieved without economic equality, anti-militarism, anti-imperialism, and anti-capitalism. According to King, these realities were contingent on his utopian visions of socialism, perspectives which rightfully threatened the US government.
Selective storytelling does more harm than good. It allows society to celebrate a sanitized version of Black history, one where oppression is overcome neatly and easily. When universities or corporations quote famous Black figures in February but refuse to address the structural inequalities they fought against, they engage in a modern version of historical ignorance.
The line between necessary commemoration and problematic compartmentalization is a clear one. The danger of BHM is that it subtly reinforces the idea that Black history is an “extra” rather than an integral part of a broader historical discourse. It suggests that Black achievements exist in an alternate category rather than within the continuous flow of history. This is the same effect which falls on “Pride Month”: it unintentionally marginalizes non-heteronormative individuals by making identity-based history seem supplementary rather than essential. To take this argument further, consider how other histories are treated. There is no “White History Month” because white narratives are seamlessly integrated in history. The existence of BHM reinforces the idea that Black history is an addition, something to be acknowledged periodically rather than naturally ingrained into society’s collective consciousness.
Black resistance needs to be year-round
Another crucial consideration is how BHM reinforces a too-short encapsulation of the meaning behind the cause. It advertises that Black identity is singular and can be captured within a one-month framework. The experiences and histories of Black people are vast and varied, intersectional, and spanning continents, centuries, and cultures. The way BHM is currently structured, however, often simplifies these complexities in favour of a digestible, singular narrative.
So, is BHM fundamentally inadequate? If it were truly effective, would we still need it? The ideal solution would be to integrate Black history into a year-round curriculum, workplace policies, and international conversations, ensuring that it is not an isolated event but a continuous one, embedded in long-standing history. This means shifting symbolic gestures to actual systemic changes: stronger legal protections against racial discrimination, increased funding for Black-led initiatives and increased reconnaissance of Black efforts and culture. Until we can apply those changes, BHM will remain a necessary but flawed mechanism. It serves as a tem-
Another selectively advantageous effect of dedicating only one month to Black history is the way it amplifies only specific narratives. The stories and struggles of famous Black figures like Martin Luther King, Jr. or Rosa Parks are often diluted for mass appeal while downplaying or ignoring the more radical elements of Black resistance. For example, King’s trailblazing work does not begin and end with the need to abolish white supremacy
porary distraction, a momentary assertion of presence in a world that often tries to forget. But if the goal is true equity, then a single month will never be enough. Real progress demands that Black history and lives be valued and integrated into our collective understanding of the world, not only in February but every day.
Illustration by Sehajleen Wander
Editorial: the spoken weapon
conveys, delineates the authority of language, not only as a form of communication but as a facet of life itself.
Storytelling as a survival mechanism
Indian Horse is presented as a story inside a story, with the internal narrative written by Saul as a part of his journey toward emotional healing during his time at an Indigenous rehabilitation centre. In this sense, storytelling became a part of his survival, a way to confront the trauma that poisoned him for years.
How storytelling breaks boundaries to reclaim identities, convey harsh realities, and pass on traditions.
Set in locations ranging from Toronto to Haiti to Timmins to Saint Lucia, acclaimed Canadian poet Canisia Lubrin’s debut work of fiction, Code Noir, adopts the novel approach of assorting 59 short stories, each differing in length, genre, character, and plot, but unified in their reflections on the brazenness of life. Strikingly, the novel’s title takes inspiration from the infamous, real-life Code Noir, a decree consisting of 59 articles established by King Louis XIV in 1685 outlining the operation of slavery in the French empire and its colonies.
Such a title juxtaposes Lubrin’s humanistic narratives, which dwell on the lived experiences of African and Caribbean ancestry, with a landmark document epitomizing a nation’s embrace of a brutal institution. Such a choice goes beyond irony; it involves the claiming of a history that robbed millions of their lives and liberty through a methodical interaction with the haunting past, overlaying on its contours the stories of those who lay claim to a tragic heritage.
Code Noir’s storytelling is a testament to capturing tough subjects and reclaiming identities. Whether it’s through helping readers digest complex information or conveying an obscure but meaningful message, storytelling is a medium without restriction that can be used across the dimensions of the ideology, religion, politics, and literature, reflecting the power of imagination in working with the worst of realities.
The timeless universality of storytelling: Wagamese’s Indian Horse
Take Richard Wagamese’s 2012 novel, Indian Horse, which follows the story of Saul, an Ojibway boy taken to St. Jerome’s residential school in Ontario, where he blossoms into a hockey star while facing incessant prejudice, trauma, and sexual abuse. In 2012, between Stephen Harper’s apology to former residential school students in 2008 and the publication of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee’s report in 2015, Canada was still awakening to the horrors of the residential school system.
To faithfully convey even a glimpse of these horrors was not an easy task, especially as they constituted what many would consider Canada’s darkest era. Wagamese responded to this literary dilemma by building a fictional narrative based on this stark history. Now in novel form, the narrative could bet-
ter avoid triggering defensiveness or aversion from its readers and instead patiently develop its plot, helping the reader digest the cruel reality of residential schools.
Through storytelling, Wagamese effectively leverages timeless universality and the language of emotion to impress upon the reader the harsh realities of the Indigenous experience in Canada. In focusing on Saul, a young child thrown into unimaginable circumstances, the reader is subconsciously coerced into feeling compassion, making them hyper-aware of the injustices he experiences through a human-centered lens.
The book also casts Saul as an underdog, whose passion for hockey is limited by his age and undermined by racial prejudice. This enables the reader to greatly identify with Saul, putting them in his shoes and motivating them to take pleasure in his success and mourn his losses.
Here, the story plays on the universal inclination to pity the character who unjustly faces prejudice and is powerless to combat it, an emotion as timeless and human as the fight against oppression itself. Encapsulating such an emotional trigger allows anyone, of any age or era, to share in the emotions of the sufferer. In inspiring this response through Indian Horse, Wagamese successfully conveys the novel’s big idea of the ferocity of residential schools.
Storytelling also relies on the timeless universality of language. Language is most relevant to the human species, in whose history it “would stand out as the preeminent trait,” according to cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker in his book, The Language Instinct: How the Mind Creates Language. Pinker further claims that language is “man’s most important cultural invention” and is “so tightly woven into human experience that it is scarcely possible to imagine life without it.”
The power of language can also be examined by extrapolating it beyond the human world and into the hands of an extraterrestrial species. This idea is central to the 2016 scifi film Arrival, based on Ted Chiang’s Story of Your Life, in which the language of the narrative’s aliens is interpreted as a “weapon,” which, if learned, would alter the human learner’s linear perception of time and enable them to become aware of future experiences. Regardless of what species uses it, language indeed is a weapon, especially among humans, whose perceptions of space and time are affected by the languages they speak.
While Wagamese’s choice to write a book might seem trivial, at its core, such a decision relies on a universal tool that epitomizes boundlessness. Every word, punctuation, and literary device used in the novel, along with the information it
Key to this process is Saul’s reclaiming of the lost parts of his identity, which he accomplishes after seeing his dead family during a spiritual experience that prompts him to revisit the locations, both physical and psychological, of his abuse. As a result of his storytelling and resultant catharsis, Saul returns to his ancestral land at God’s Lake in Manitoba, where he, in a vision, talks to his great-grandfather, the first “Indian Horse,” fully reclaiming his heritage.
Saul’s journey reflects the role storytelling has played in Indigenous communities for centuries, as families passed on values, beliefs and traditions through oral tradition, the chief means of ensuring the survival of their culture and tradition. This history was disrupted, however, as Indigenous identities were devastated by colonialism and cultural genocide. During this time, Indigenous peoples experienced a significant loss of language, culture, and traditional teachings while enduring traumas inherited by subsequent generations. Such deprivation suffocated parts of Indigenous culture, as cultural storytelling, the lifeblood of tradition, was destroyed.
Today, just as Saul found a way back to his roots through the telling of his story, storytelling has risen as a means of reclaiming lost Indigenous identities and returning agency to the systemically silenced. This is seen through writers like Wagamese, who, after reuniting with his family, was given the name Mushkotay Beezheekee Anakwat, or Buffalo Cloud. Those given this name by elders in the community are responsible for telling stories and bearing a centuries-old Indigenous tradition.
At the intersection of Code Noir and Indian Horse lies the use of storytelling to convey an idea against the backdrop of a brutal history. In Code Noir, such history is captured in one of the 59 tenets which is presented before each short story. In Indian Horse, that history is the story itself. Both texts rely on the power afforded by storytelling: the ability to wield the weapon of language and reflect on reality through emotional stories, whether to influence public discourse, start a conversation, or inspire the finding of a lost identity.
Illustration by Sehajleen Wander
Samuel Kamalendran News Editor
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Editor | Madhav Ajayamohan
The hidden architect of intersectional activism through the story of Dorothy Height
Vedika Awtani Contributor
Dorothy Height, a renowned activist, established a legacy of justice and empowerment by relentlessly battling against racism, sexism, and inequality.
“Greatness is not measured by what a man or woman accomplishes, but by the opposition he or she has overcome to reach his goals.”
When Dorothy Height spoke these words aloud to 1,000 women in Washington, D.C., she planted the first of numerous milestones in her activism career. Those words marked the official opening of the Bethune Museum and Archives for Black Women—the first institution devoted entirely to Black women’s history. It was a testament to the struggle she had withstood through her relentless fight against sexism and racism.
Born in 1912 in Richmond, Virginia, Height was a natural advocate. After moving to Rankin, Pennsylvania, Height “found her place in the sisterhood,” according to her memoir, after observing Black women teaching, working and organizing together.
With her parents’ intellectual background, Height was exposed to similar clubs, where she learned the lasting value of service. With the events she directed in this preliminary environment, Height gained a newfound love for organization and interpersonal relationships. A steady confidante, her mother often reminded her to use her abilities to assist others, rather than abusing her position.
While Height often credited her mother for her emotional and social skills, she did not understand the value of education and a career until she explored her father’s world. Since he was a popular contractor, her father’s position gave Height a touch of fame in her peer network. When young men from her school asked her about her father’s work, she realized how essential employment was. She also became aware of the limited opportunities available, particularly to young African American men.
Exposed to the harsh realities of the world, Height quickly realized that the resources available to her were hardly sufficient for her cause. When she would discuss anti-racist and sexist policies, adults often mislabeled her and confined her to one facet of her identity. Height soon noticed that her determination was rare and that she would have to forge her own path to create justice.
These understandings persisted throughout her high school career, where Height argued against segregation policies that prevented African American children from swimming, debating, or attending school with their caucasian counterparts. Her persistent ferocity earned her a scholarship to continue her education in college, a rare offer for women of colour at the time.
Height originally planned to attend Barnard, but their rules prohibited African Americans from attending. Faced with rejection, Height chose to attend New York University where she later earned a Bachelor’s degree in Educationbachelor’s degree in education, followed by a master’s degree in psychology, which led her to a temporary social worker position.
Eventually, Height worked her first job as a social worker in Harlem, New York, at the Harlem Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA). She quickly became a leader in the local organization and went on to create programs and expand the organization, integrating YWCA facilities across the nation.
Through her revolutionary efforts at the YWCA, Height met Mary McLeod Bethune, which inspired her to work with the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW). As part of the NCNW, Height focused on reconstructing the criminal justice system and ending the lynching of African Americans. Eventually, Height became the fourth president of NCNW in 1957 and remained president for 40 years.
For forty years, Height remained president of the NCNW, which tackled considerable relevant issues under her administration. Height was a pioneer in promoting education for young Black civil rights workers with scholarship programs
Height’s efforts did not go unnoticed. Her expertise exposed her to a new role within the Civil Rights Movement, where she often served as an advisor for leading forces in the campaign. Figures like Eleanor Roosevelt, Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Lyndon B. Johnson often sought her advice.
Despite her critical participation in integral events, such as the March on Washington, Height once more faced the perils of sexism. Originally, women were not invited to become the faces of or speak toward the movement. Now experiencing gender discrimination, Height battled to create a space for women, especially those of colour, to express their voices.
Her fight was deeply intersectional, extending to argue against job equality and pay parity for all women of colour. Height’s movement was never limited to a certain cause—she contended against issues in various spheres. Beginning with the importance of education for women to their apparent economic invisibility, Height became a pillar of support for multiple individuals.
She travelled considerably, and throughout her lengthy career, she advanced her teachings to a global population. She served as a visiting professor at the University of Delhi, India, and with the Black Women’s Federation of South Africa.
In recognition of her continued efforts and service, she received many honours over the years, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Gold Medal, the Presidential Citizens Medal, and the Jefferson Award for Public Service.
designed to fit their needs. In keeping, Height also rallied for grants and voter registration to educate voters and pave the path for young women to start businesses.
With her exceptional managerial and motivational skills,
Height accepted many accolades, from presidents and leaders throughout the years. She held the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Gold Medal, the Presidential Citizens Medal, and the Jefferson Award for Public Service. In 2004, she was even inducted into the Democracy Hall of Fame International, after which she obtained 24 honorary degrees.
Her death in 2010, at the age of 98, marked years of constant struggle and determination. However, while she is not quite well-known among current generations, Height’s quiet power seeps into education and policies today. Her effort to introduce intellectual activism is noteworthy, especially for women of colour, who still go unrecognized.
Dr. Dorothy Height was certainly a force to be reckoned with, emphasizing the global struggles in healthcare, education, and the workforce, which enabled unfair and discriminatory practices. Her unwavering strength and support for her community continue to serve as a reminder of true leadership. Building a framework defined by intersectionality, courage, compassion, and empathy, Height changed the world, and her spirit endures in young leaders today.
Illustration by Sara Li
Looking at U of T’s campuses from the eyes of a UTM student
Mari Khan Contributor
Reviewing what Sheridan College, U of T Scarborough, and U of T St. George had to offer in terms of student life, courses, and resources.
In my first couple of years studying at the University of Toronto (U of T) Mississauga (UTM), I endeavoured to enroll in at least one course at every campus offered through ACORN. I wanted to enhance my university experience by taking different courses and learning different things. After visiting each campus, here is my experience with studying at all three as well as Sheridan College.
Sheridan College
My first class at Sheridan felt like a long Among Us game. I felt like an imposter. I took a course called Design I (FAS236H5) in the winter of 2024, focusing on design and concept principles using Adobe applications, including Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign. The class was filled with art students except for one person—me. At first, I was horrified at the thought of someone discovering my lack of artistic abilities.
But my fears were unfounded.
The class was welcoming and supportive. Professor Atanas Bozdarov became one of the best professors I have encountered in my academic journey. He started the class by sharing stories of those who have taken design courses that were not in art or art history programs and encouraged all students to take the class in stride.
The courses at Sheridan were long. The course I took had a duration of six hours. These six hours were split into two periods with an hour break between them. In my experience, the first period teaches students concepts and hosts critiques. The second period is an optional work period. I found the class engaging, but the six-hour block can be difficult to accommodate into schedules.
In terms of travel, commuting from UTM to Sheridan is convenient as there is a shuttle available by the Maanjiwe nendamowinan building.
When students are enrolled in a Sheridan course, they are considered a Sheridan student. This means access to their onecard (equivalent to UTM’s TCard), Accessibility Services, Career Centre, Student Life opportunities and more.
It is harder to engage in student life activities if you only take one class at Sheridan. However, there are still opportunities to engage in smaller activities. In the hallway near the Tim Hortons in the B-Wing, there are sometimes 10 to 20-minute activities for students. One of my favourite activities was writing a story or drawing a comic strip using words and scenes provided on whiteboards.
Some of my favourites include writing a story with words and scenes provided on whiteboards or drawing a comic strip.
U of T Scarborough
“The Alaska of U of T”—my friend once called the Scarborough campus (UTSC), alluding to it being a forgotten campus of U of T. With no direct connection between St. George (UTSG) or Mississauga to Scarborough, like a shuttle, it is easy to forget the campus. But, in my first year, I knew I wanted to take a course there. With the commute being difficult, I enrolled in an asynchronous course in the winter of 2023 called Introduction to Clinical, Developmental, Personality, and Social Psychology (PSYA02H3).
For the final exam, I had to commute to UTSC, which made me realize how large the campus truly was. People who believe the St. George campus is huge have not visited the Scarborough campus. The UTSC students who trek to their classes in the colder months are U of T’s strongest soldiers. It took me a 20-minute walk through the campus to find out where I would write my exam. Even after asking for directions and consulting maps, the architecture of the campus made it very confusing for me. It felt like navigating the exit of an escape room.
Confusing campus aside, UTSC in April is quite beautiful. The greenery and paths create a gorgeous and soothing environment. The disconnected campus makes it a great place to lock in during warmer months when the commute is easier than in the winter.
While at UTSC, I participated in the Reading and Writing Excellence Program, which is offered by the Centre for Teaching Learning at UTSC. It is a four-week program that helps students develop reading, critical thinking and reflective writing
skills and understand and meet university-level expectations. The program pairs students with an expert writing instructor and provides personalized feedback for students’ work. This program ensured I didn’t procrastinate on my course readings.
In general, I found UTSC to have many valuable opportunities to develop their academic skills. Through workshops and videos, UTSC provides useful information and beneficial tools for students.
U of T St. George
As I like to call it, our founding father, UTSG. At first, I was worried about how UTSG students would perceive a UTM student like me. However, I was pleasantly surprised as the students and staff are quite welcoming. With the abundance of food options close to campus, the sounds of the cityscape, sleep-deprived students, historical architecture, and libraries that are open 24/7, UTSG feels like the traditional university experience. After taking multiple courses at this campus, participating in extracurriculars, and actively completing my work-study term there, I became well acquainted with the campus.
What sets the campus apart for me, is the abundance of workspaces offered at UTSG. UTM students know the difficulty of finding a study spot in UTM’s buildings. At UTSG, with the multiple libraries spanning the campus, there is always a place to study. I also find UTSG’s Student Life program amazing. As a UTM student, this programming is not always available to us. But, I have found that a nice email can open up many doors.
In terms of courses, I find that St. George offers a wonderful opportunity for students to explore courses they might not be able to at UTM. While there are restrictions on certain courses for Rotman students and other programs, there remain plenty of courses available for students to engage in. My favourite course has to be Innovation in Society (CRE235H1). The course touched upon different innovations that have revolutionized our way of life in recent years—a wonderful elective course for students to take if you ask me.
Final Judgement
After exploring each campus, I found UTSG to be the best one from a UTM student’s perspective—not only due to its close proximity to UTM but also to its vibrant student life and various courses. Its location in downtown Toronto makes it easy to access public transit. There is also a diverse course range that students can participate in from different year levels.
I would tie Sheridan and UTSC for second place. It is difficult to place one over as it depends on each student’s interests. For me, I would rank Sheridan higher than UTSC as the art courses and opportunities are more interesting to me. Sheridan is also easier to commute to than UTSC. However, UTSC offers programs that enhance students’ experience and develop study skills. The only problem I encountered is that it is difficult to find upper-year courses at UTSC that are offered online and open to UTM students.
Exploring courses across different campuses was a memorable and valuable experience that expanded my perspective on student life. Each campus had something unique to offer, whether it was Sheridan’s hands-on approach, UTSC’s academic skillbuilding programs, or UTSG’s city atmosphere. No matter where you study, stepping outside your comfort zone can lead to unexpected growth and memorable experiences.
Finally, Toronto Metropolitan University, the University of Ottawa, and Wilfred Laurier University do not seem to have any permanent CR/NCR policies. However, each of these schools applied a temporary CR policy during the Covid-19 pandemic.
Collage by Kirsty Carnan
9 Arts
Sonic storytelling and community empowerment: Black Diasporas Tkaronto-Toronto
Photo by Ramiya Sureshkumar
Ramiya Sureshkumar
Theatre Erindale Correspondent
Black Diasporas Tkaronto-Toronto at the Museum of Toronto documents and weaves a web of connection across the vast spectrum of Black life in the city.
How has Toronto been shaped by the Black diaspora? What relationships are significant to Black Canadians and their communities, and how are these relationships constructed? What defines home, and how does it intersect with cultural identity for Black Canadians? These are some of the questions that Black Diasporas Tkaronto-Toronto at the Museum of Toronto explores.
The exhibition spotlights the spectrum of Black life in Toronto, engaging visitors in an open montage of visual and sonic textures. It presents a cohesive ensemble of works, including interviews, films, maps, and historical timelines to document the rich histories of the Black Diaspora that have shaped contemporary Toronto. The exhibition foregrounds the everyday, speaking to the lives of ordinary people and celebrating daily moments that depict the multifaceted realities of Black life in Toronto.
I was deeply moved by the exhibition’s massive emphasis on the act of listening, foregrounding sound as both an artistic medium and a mode of engagement. Focusing on sonic storytelling was an incredibly fitting choice for such a powerful project, since audition inherently supports multiple experiences.
The exhibition’s striking setup seats visitors down with a television and headset, where the screens, rather than video footage, display transcriptions of the personal narratives being relayed aurally. The exhibit makes clever use of listening as a form of understanding—not just passive perception, but an active cultivation of our emotional responses. The various narratives and sound works are arranged spatially according to the themes and questions they explore, yet the openness of the exhibit reinforces the interconnectedness of these stories and experiences as not distinct or individual but rather intimately connected.
Beyond being informative, the exhibit is also deeply participatory, inviting visitors into the act of creation itself. One such way is through the act of mapping, offering interactive ways for visitors to engage. One map of Toronto invites participants to mark out locations of spaces, stores, and businesses important to Black Torontonians. Right underneath the map, visitors can also take cards and add to an emphasis list that presents the different ways in which the Black diaspora has made Toronto a unique place of existence. A world map allows Blackidentifying visitors to mark where they were born, the places they have ties to, and the places they consider home—further expanding the exhibition’s scope as an evolving archive of the presence and belonging of Black life in the world.
At its core, the exhibit facilitates the creation of spaces that foster belonging and empower the Black community. Through sound, storytelling, mapping, and collaboration, it positions both art and community-building as not fixed or completed acts but as ongoing, participatory practices–ones that thrive through dialogue, engagement, and collective world-making. For nonBlack visitors, the exhibition is an invitation—an opportunity to listen, witness, and engage. More than just an exhibit, Black Diasporas Tkaronto-Toronto is a must-visit experience that demands to be seen, heard, and felt. Experience it for yourself—on now until March 1, 2025.
Beyonce’s Cowboy Carter and the history of country music
Skyler Piskoroski
Associate Arts & Entertainment Editor
A closer look at Beyonce’s country album and the historical and cultural significance of a Black woman working in the country genre.
In March 2024, Beyonce released Cowboy Carter. Many praised her exploration of American culture, particularly for its recognition of Black people’s contributions to country music and America more broadly. Some, however, critiqued her switch to country music, claiming that it is not truly country. Much of these claims come from assumptions about the country genre being a “white” genre—similar to Lil Nas X with his song “Old Town Road.” Despite country music’s association with white hillbilly culture, the genre has roots among Black American communities.
Early country music originated from spiritual songs sung by Black people in the South. The banjo, a distinct feature of the genre, originates from West African lutes that were brought to America by enslaved Black people. It was later appropriated by minstrel Blackface shows, going on to become popular among white artists, and was then abandoned by Black musicians. Despite its origins among Black people, the appropriation of the banjo changed historical understandings of the instrument and country music.
Beyonce is well aware of this and crafted her album with it in mind. The title, Cowboy Carter, refers to The Carter Family, a famous white country music group that was heavily influenced by Black musician Lesley Riddle. The album cover features many symbols of American culture—a culture that so often ignores contributions made by Black people. Beyonce dressed as a cowboy, sitting on a white horse, and carrying an American flag is reminiscent of colonial America. Positioning Beyonce, a Black woman from Texas, in this role instead of the white founding fathers is a reclamation of stolen history.
The album’s songs continue these themes of empowerment and reclamation of culture. Among the many features on the album, a significant one is Linda Martell, who was the first Black woman to achieve commercial success in the country music genre, as well as the first Black woman to play the Grand Ole Opry, a live country radio station from Nashville, Tennessee.
Another significant inclusion is Beyonce’s cover of The Beatles’, “Blackbird.” While not country, the song was written by Paul McCartney about the Little Rock Nine to give Black girls (“blackbirds”) hope during the Civil Rights Movement. The song, now sung by Beyonce and other Black female country singers, takes on new meaning from the perspective of Black women who, instead of “waiting for this moment to arrive,” are actively working to make it happen and continuing to make hope available to others.
Beyonce has been very successful in navigating different styles over the years and Cowboy Carter is just one more example. It has now earned 11 Grammy nominations, making Beyonce the most nominated artist ever—though she has never won Album of the Year. Will Cowboy Carter change that? Only time will tell; but, regardless of awards, Beyonce’s album is a significant success for her and Black musicians everywhere.
Illustration by Ramiya Sureshkumar
A synoptic review of Jacqueline Woodson’s Red at the Bone
Emma Catarino Staff Writer
Red at the Bone, by Black American author Jacqueline Woodson, centers around the main character, Melody, at her coming-of-age sixteenth birthday party. The story follows the lives of her close family leading up until that point, following three generations.
The novel follows multiple points of view as it strings together themes of race, class, coming of age, sexuality, and generational trauma. Melody’s story touches on the life of a teenager trying to figure out her path in the world. As Melody is the granddaughter of a well-off family, she faces high expectations to be an intelligent, respectable, “good girl,” and to not follow the “disgraceful” path her mother, Iris, took by becoming a teen mom. Melody struggles with resentment against Iris for conceiving her at a young age and leaving her behind with her grandparents to find freedom at college.
Iris’ point of view is initially similar to Melody’s, though more chaotic as she is defiant against her parents’ pressure to behave. Iris grapples with the weight of what it truly means to become a teen mother, struggling when she must leave her school, friends, and life behind to care for baby Melody. These chapters focus heavily on class differences as Aubrey, Melody’s father, came from a poor family. The disparities in their lifestyles, coupled with Aubrey’s no-nonsense mother, Cathy Marie, was Iris’ motivation to grow up and take back control of her life by completing her high school degree before her daughter was born. Iris’ story also explores her sexuality. After leaving for college, growing more and more distant from Aubrey and Melody back home, Iris met Jam, a spunky woman who later became Iris’ partner and helped her realize her bisexuality.
Lastly, the chapters which focused on Sabe, Iris’ mother and Melody’s grandmother, feature significant themes of generational trauma. Sabe’s family was directly affected by the Tulsa Massacre, an event of racial terrorism against African Americans in the early 1920s. As a young girl, Sabe faced racism and financial insecurity, but as she grew older, she and her husband Po’Boy persevered to give Iris and Melody a better life than they had. However, the struggles Sabe faced throughout her lifetime had lasting effects, often influencing her high expectations for her daughter To Sabe, Iris’ in the face to that Iris being the hard work that their daughter a better life.
style of the novel’s writing is poetic, mainly tions Woodson gives: “Rain giving way to Its rays speckling through the stained off the hardwood floors.” Woodson does of not only creating three-dimensional also lacing together all the different makes these characters who they are, their actions to their past experiences.
Photo by Keira Johannson
11 sports & health
Editor | Joseph Falzata sports@themedium.ca
Barnstorming baseball’s 1981 return to Erindale Campus
Joseph Falzata Sports & Health Editor
Recalling the legacy of baseball’s “Negro leagues” with Canada’s premier baseball historian, Bill Humber.
Long before the UTM tri-campus soccer team called South Field its home, before the Toronto Argonauts ripped through its grass with their long-metal studs, back when we had plenty of deer and fields but no Deerfield Hall, a friendly game of baseball took place on campus grounds. But it wasn’t between UTM students, or even alumni, but instead between some of Canadian baseball’s most prominent historians and a group of black baseball players that had once played a role in reshaping the history of their sport.
The year was 1981, and the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR) had just selected the University of Toronto’s Erindale campus to host its 11th annual conference and its first outside the United States. Nearly 150 attendants appeared at the event, including John Thorn, current Official Historian of Major League Baseball (MLB), as well as William “Bill” Humber, a 2021 Order of Canada appointee and Canada’s so-called “premier baseball historian.” In fact, it was Humber himself who had helped select Erindale campus as the venue for SABR’s Toronto convention.
“There were a number of firsts at the event,” recalled Humber. “John Thorn, who is now the official historian of MLB… said that was the first ever event he’d been to for the SABR.”
America’s favourite pastime was no less revered by the Black community as it was by their exclusionary contemporaries. After being barred from the MLB and its affiliations, African Americans began forming their own minor leagues in the late 1800s, providing the first opportunity for Black baseball players to develop and compete at a high level. By the 1920s, the Negro National League would establish itself as the most professional league to date with a reoccurring set of teams for multiple seasons.
Ironically, despite segregation prohibiting Black players from crossing into the all-white MLB, the opposite wasn’t always true. In 1979, John Craig, another attendee of the Erindale
all their barnstorming minor teams — continued growing in popularity and creating household legends. In 1947, Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s colour barrier, ushering in the racial integration of organized baseball and effectively putting an end to the Negro Leagues.
“Just the fact that the best players of the Negro Leagues, be it Hank Aaron or Willie Mayes, or in this case Jackie Robinson, were making it into the majors by the late 40s early 50s, the economic opportunities associated with a separate Negro Leagues disappeared,” explained Humber. “And the Major League was not very kind in terms of rewarding those leagues when they would come in and take their players,” he continued, referring to the alleged transfer fee of Jackie Robinson for only $5,000 by the MLB’s Brooklyn Dodgers.
“The other fascinating thing was that we actually had four ball players that played in the Negro Leagues from the 1930s to early 40s. Two of them I remember quite well, Buddy Burbage and Gene Benson, and both of them played lengthy careers in the Negro Leagues. It was wonderful to have them there because most of those guys are gone now and there’s just not many firsthand memories, but they were able to share that with everybody who was there.”
The “Negro Leagues” referred to by Humber made up some of the most influential years for the development of Black youth sports programs in American history. Prior to desegregation,
SABR convention, turned his own playing career into an autobiography. His story, Chappie and Me, spoke of his time as a white first-baseman in an all-black team under a mask of shoe polish.
“Some of the Negro league players that were there questioned the authenticity of the story,” chuckled Humber. “But I also know in Saskatchewan there was also a white ball player that played on a black barnstorming team and that is completely and totally historically verifiable and he’s in fact now in the Saskatchewan Baseball Hall of Fame.”
From the 1930s to the 1940s. The Negro major leagues — and
Baseball’s Negro League era demonstrates the evolution of a culture just as much as the evolution of a sport. In recent years, baseball historians have made efforts to recognize those who helped define the Negro Leagues and their impacts on baseball. John Thorn was one such historian, and was recently consulted by MLB to honour 32 former black players who have had the greatest impact on the history of American baseball.
Humber looks back fondly of his time with the former Negro League players at the Erindale conference.
“From our point of view, it was this fascinating opportunity to meet, in person, guys who had played in the Negro Leagues. I mean, the Negro Leagues had basically disappeared by the late 1940s because of the gradual integration of MLB.”
“Some of them ironically had probably only been to Canada before as players for barnstorming Negro league teams! So for some of these guys, coming back to Toronto in 1981 was a return to somewhere they hadn’t been in maybe 40 years. It was wonderful to have them there.”
In the end, while Simon and Garfunkel’s classic Mrs. Robinson sang for the return of Joe DiMaggio and Yankees fans told campfire stories of Babe Ruth’s bat, Black America had the pitching of Satchell Paige to mythologize. And while we might not know just how far exactly Josh Gibson’s legendary homerun of 1936 may have went, we do have his legacy, and for now, that’s what really counts.
Shaping people, not just players
Joseph Falzata Sports & Health Editor
As the American poet and civil rights activist Maya Angelou once wrote, “I don’t believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.” For brothers Kevin and Martin Iyamabo, former UTM athletes-turned coaches, Angelou’s saying rings true.
Martin
Iyamabo began his journey at the University of Toronto Mississauga in the fall of 2018 and playing an integral defensive role in the UTM varsity men’s soccer team. By the time Kevin joined his brother two years later, the university had suspended all varsity sports programs, and the pandemicsuspended tri-campus league meant the brothers never had the opportunity to play for the Eagles together.
Despite never playing on the same university team, soccer is something that has brought the Iyamabo brothers continually closer over the past few years. Both Martin and Kevin currently coach at Liverpool International Academy in Mississauga and Kevin also helps coach the UTM men’s tri-campus team. While
they may support different professional clubs, watching games together helps them develop new tactics that they can implement in their own teams.
“Watching sports on TV – you see plays and movements that the ones on the field don’t,” explained Martin. “Many times you have to remind yourself that what they see is different and almost be another set of eyes that can guide them to the bigger picture.”
For Martin, the big picture doesn’t always mean winning or losing, but rather developing players for their future careers.
Illustration by Sara Li
“For kids, there will always be those bigger or faster than the rest. Those are the ones I tend to focus on more because they have never had to adapt the way smaller players have,” emphasized
Martin. “When everyone catches up with puberty, they are often the ones left behind because they never improved their other skills. I was never the most technical player, but I was good at reading the game and understanding decision-making. This influenced my coaching style as I focus a lot on making sure my players don’t just do something, but understand why they are doing it.”
But beyond their role in shaping players on the field, perhaps the desire to develop people off the field is the most admirable trait of the Iyamabos.
“The most enjoyable part is seeing the development of the kids not just as players, but as people as well. I joke with my friends that I have 30 kids,” laughed Martin. “They’re like an extended family and it’s a great feeling when you see the influence you have had as they grow up.” Martin and Kevin’s experience as Black athletes have also played a role in defining their outlook on coaching.
“As a Black athlete, people expect you to be the fastest or strongest, and often pigeon-hole many of us into the same category of player,” said Martin. “I’ve seen many who have developed an over-reliance on this and have struggled later on because they never learned, or were taught, to expand their skillset because they were only valued for their physical abilities from a young age.”
“My point here is to not let other people pigeon-hole you. Work hard and ask questions. People will often look at you and think that you’re good enough or that physique is all you can provide. Always strive to go beyond just talent and learn the skills that others are not willing to teach you,” he concluded.
From Althea Gibson to Wendell Scott: A history lesson on some of the lesser-known Black athletes that redefined their sport
Maram Qarmout Staff Writer
During Black History Month, it’s important to take the time to remember those who broke barriers so others could break records.
Everyone knows the household names of Lebron James, Mohammed Ali, Simone Biles, and many more renowned Black athletes. But how many people know of Wilma Rudolph, Althea Gibson, and Bobby Marshall? These athletes are of the few to break records and make names for themselves only to be forgotten decades later.
As the world of athletics continues to reach new heights, it’s imperative that we remember those across every sport — from basketball to baseball, soccer, football, gymnastics, and even rock climbing — who reshaped traditional narratives and paved the way for the next generation.
Esteemed Black athletes of the past Althea Gibson was the very first Black tennis athlete to win the French, Wimbledon, and U.S. Open singles championships. She dominated the field of tennis in the 1950s as the first Black woman athlete to join various singles championships. In 1957, after various tournament wins, Gibson was voted the Female Athlete of the Year by the Associated Press; the very first female Black athlete to receive this title.
Wilma Rudolph, the 20th child of 22, struggled to walk for 12 years. Many doctors believed she would be paralyzed forever. Six years later, she competed in her firstever Olympics, winning bronze in the 4x100-metre relay. Four years later, she became the first-ever African American woman to win three gold medals at the 1960 Olympics for track and field.
Bill Russell, although an afterthought to many basketball fans nowadays, helped lead the University of San Francisco to the National Collegiate Athletic Association through his defensive plays. Those same plays led him to win 11 NBA titles for the Boston Celtics ⎯ the most out of any player in NBA history. In 1966, he also became the first African American coach of a modern major professional sports team in the United States as a player-coach for the Celtics.
Fritz Pollard, after serving in World War I, began playing professional football as the second Black player in the league at that time and led the Akron Pros to the league championship. The following year in 1921, he became the first ever head Black coach as he continued to play professionally, eventually founding his own professional team named the Black Hawks.
Bobby Marshall, an all-around athlete, used to play first base in college baseball, lettered in track and excelled in hockey and boxing. He was first to Fritz Pollard to become an NFL player. Although he retired from football at 44, he came back to play once more six years later during an exhibition game. He was honoured 13 years after his death with an induction into the College Football Hall of Fame.
Charlie Sifford was the first Black golf player to receive a Professional Golfers’ Association (PGA) card, which qualified him for a professional golf tour. His qualification only came a decade after the colour barrier for Black athletes broke for professional baseball, football, and basketball players. In total, Sifford earned 22 professional wins and was later gifted the Presidential Medal of Freedom by Barack Obama in 2015.
Debi Thomas was known for being the first Black woman to win the world figure skating championships in 1986. Two years later, she won bronze in the Winter Olympics. Unlike many professional athletes, Debi retired early in her career to become an orthopedic surgeon, though she claims figure skating holds a special place in her heart.
Willie O’Ree was Canada’s first Black hockey player. He made his debut in 1958 against severe stigma and race challenges. Although blind in one eye, he never let that deter him from scoring four goals in the 45 NHL games in which he played, as well as two scoring titles in the Western Hockey League (WHL). In 2018 he was inducted in the Hockey Hall of Fame for his contribution to the NHL and the barriers he broke within the sport.
Wendell Scott was the first African American to win a NASCAR race in 1963. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until 2021 that his family received the trophy in his place. Racial challenges prohibited Scott from ever receiving the one and only trophy he ever won in his entire career. However, it eventually reached his family, and his name is forever etched into NASCAR’s Hall of Fame.
Arthur Ashe was the first African American to be numbered one in the entire world as a tennis player. He was, and remains to be, the first Black athlete to win the U.S. Open and Wimbledon men’s singles titles. He was also the first Black tennis athlete to be included in the Tennis Hall of Fame. He won 18 titles before retiring and focusing on his health foundation, raising awareness for AIDS.
Camryn Rogers, a legendary field athlete, was Canada’s first-ever Olympic medalist in hammer throw. She broke Canada’s streak of no gold medals in any women’s Olympic events since 1928 and went on to win various hammer-throw tournaments throughout her career.
Flo Hyman is remembered as an all-star volleyball player of her time. From earning the collegiate All-American three times to being recognized as one of the greatest and most valuable volleyball players across the globe, Hyman earned her first Olympic silver in 1984. She continued to claim various titles until she passed away on the court in 1986. Her legacy continues to this day.
Misty Copeland made history as the first Black woman to be placed as the American Ballet Theatre’s principal dancer. Copeland achieved a historical milestone that no Black woman had accomplished since the organization’s founding in 1940. Since then, she’s published two books, filmed a documentary, and served in Barack Obama’s council.
All these athletes represent the historical milestones of the lives of Black athletes. So, during this month, let us celebrate these remarkable athletes.
Illustration by Sara Li
Photo by Joseph Falzata