“It starts with a question that many of us have yet to fully ask; who truly controls the space where our voices rise: the streets, schools, churches, and public squares of Toronto...”
How Zay’Marie is redefining R&B through vulnerability and faith
“I don’t think I sound like anybody. I don’t compare myself to anyone. My sound is my own.”
In a music industry often criticized for its manufactured stars and formulaic hits, Zay’Marie emerges as a refreshing anomaly, a voice that refuses to be boxed in, categorized, or compared. The Virginia Beach native, now making waves in Washington DC’s DMV music scene, brings something increasingly rare to modern R&B: unapologetic authenticity wrapped in soul-stirring melodies.
What draws us to certain artists isn’t just their vocal range or production quality, it’s their ability to articulate emotions we struggle to express ourselves. In Zay’Marie’s case, this connection feels almost predestined, rooted in a foundation of faith, family, and an unwavering commitment to artistic truth.
We often wonder how artists find their sound, but with Zay’Marie, it seems the sound found her. Growing up in a family where both her grandfather and father served as pastors, music was spiritual practice. “I have been singing my entire life,” she reflects. “Growing up in church, you had to do something, and I was in the choir. My parents and my siblings knew because I wouldn’t shut up about it.”
By second grade, she was already crafting songs with wisdom beyond her years, “Don’t give up on love, don’t hide from fate. Faith will guide you through.” These early lyrics reveal the thematic core that would define her work/faith, resilience, and the courage to embrace vulnerability. As schoolmates recognized her talent, she became “the girl who sang” a reputation she carried through: choirs, musicals, and performances. Yet, even as her identity became intertwined with music, she questioned whether this path could sustain her.
In an industry that demands constant content and rapid-fire releases, Zay’Marie’s decision to take a two-year hiatus after her 2019 singles “Your Love” and “If I Had My Way” seems almost revolutionary. She retreated from the pressure to produce before her vision fully crystallized. This moment of creative integrity speaks volumes about her artistic philosophy. Rather than releasing work that didn’t represent her authentic voice, she chose the harder path, return-
ing to the drawing board, refining her sound, and waiting until the music felt true.
How many of us have compromised our vision for external validation? Zay’Marie’s willingness to prioritize authenticity over expediency offers a powerful lesson in creative courage.
Her patience has borne fruit in her March 2025 EP “Natural,” a project that showcases her growth as both vocalist and songwriter. The title track, featuring production from 5x Grammynominated Vincent Berry II (co-writer of Beyoncé’s “Sandcastles”), captures her ability to balance strength and vulnerability.
“Natural represents so many life experiences and showcases so much growth,” she shares. “It’s about embracing vulnerability and every emotion without hesitation, whether it’s the risks that come with joy, or passion. I wanted this project to sound like freedom.”
This freedom manifests in music that defies easy categorization. From the jazzy nostalgia of the title track to the atmospheric synths of “High,” the EP demonstrates her versatility while maintaining a cohesive emotional core. Each track explores love in its multifaceted forms: physical, spiritual, emotional, creating a narrative arc that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.
Her Spelman College education provided not just technical training, but a network of fellow artists who continue to inspire and support her journey. Some of her biggest supporters have been people who’ve grown with her: friends, peers, and the communities that have shaped her like her hometown of Virginia Beach, her fellow DMV supporters, and her Spelhouse family that has been rocking with her from day one.
This connection to the community extends beyond her immediate circle to her growing fanbase. With over 7,000 Instagram followers and hundreds of thousands of streams across platforms, she’s building a movement, one centered on mutual recognition and shared experience.
Perhaps what’s most compelling about Zay’Marie’s journey is her evolving relationship with self-doubt. Like many artists, she grapples with imposter syndrome, yet she’s learning to
transform these doubts into determination. “I am in the season of risk taking right now,” she acknowledges. “I struggle with imposter syndrome; I struggle with the what ifs. In the next year, I am going on in. I am investing in the layers of music.”
This honesty about her fears makes her courage more remarkable. She demonstrates resilience, the willingness to move forward despite uncertainty.
If she could send a message to her younger self, it would be simple yet profound, “Believe in you. Stop fighting with yourself. Get over it. Keep pushing. Decide sooner.”
As she continues to build momentum, Zay’Marie remains focused on creation and collaboration. “I just want to work. I want to create, have meaningful collaborations. You are going to see a lot more from me,” she promises. With her unique blend of soulful R&B and pop sensibility, her commitment to authenticity, and her deep connection to community and faith, Zay’Marie embodies a potential shift in how we engage with music.
In a world often divided, her work reminds us of our shared humanity. In an industry obsessed with image, she champions substance, and in a culture that frequently rewards speed over substance, she demonstrates the power of patience.
Zay’Marie’s music connects, heals, and reminds us that in our vulnerability lies our greatest strength. As we listen to her evolution, we are invited to consider our own journeys toward authenticity and self-acceptance. Perhaps that’s her greatest gift; not just the music itself, but the way it mirrors our own struggles and triumphs, encouraging us to embrace our unique voice in a world that often urges conformity.
Stream Zay’Marie’s music including “Natural,” “Too Far,” “Inconvenience Fee,” and more on all major platforms. Follow @zaymariemusic on social media for updates on performances and new releases.
Written by Simone J. Smith Toronto Caribbean News
Building genuine solidarity in mental health and equity
On August 14th, at the Toronto Marriott Airport Hotel, Across Boundaries hosted its annual conference: Anti-Racism, AntiOppression & DEI Approaches in Mental Health. This year’s gathering was less about abstract ideas and more about tangible community healing, reminding us that building equity in mental health requires care, candor, and collective responsibility.
The day began with warmth: literally and figuratively. Between 8:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m., registrants shared hot breakfast while reconnecting with friends, colleagues, and mentors. This opening moment of fellowship was quietly powerful: as attendees lined up for food, conversations about resilience, burnout, and shared cultural experience flowed as naturally as the coffee.
Although I was unable to hear the keynote address by Patricia Jaggernauth, witnessing the steady stream of people approaching her afterward was enough to understand its impact. One thing was unmistakable: people were affirming her survival and resilience. It underscored something this conference
modeled beautifully; that mental health work is collective. Healing is amplified when communities step forward and say, “We’ve got your back.”
The first panel, “How Far Have We Come?” moderated by Debbie Douglas, brought together thought leaders Corey Bernard, Dr. Kwame McKenzie, and Dr. Jasmin Zine to interrogate both progress and persisting obstacles. Their conversation pushed us to ask uncomfortable, but necessary questions; what does real progress mean if systemic racism in mental healthcare still shapes: who gets help, how fast they get it, and how safe they feel in accessing it?
Later in the day, the second panel, “Where Do We Go From Here?” with: Dawnmarie Harriott, Dr. Nitin Mohan, and Cheryl Prescod, reminded us of an essential truth: intention is not enough. As moderator Shaheen Ali noted, solidarity needs to move beyond statements into structural shifts, funding models, workplace practices, and policy reform.
Of course, the hot buffet lunch, thoughtfully designed with cultural dishes, became its own kind of workshop. Food has always been a cultural portal for connection, and sharing it allowed attendees to decompress, reflect, and exchange learnings in a way that felt both restorative and accessible.
By midday, the conference shifted into tabletop exercises and an artbased journal workshop facilitated by Fresh Paint Studio. Tapping into creativity allowed participants to access forms of healing not always prioritized in main-
stream Western clinical models. Anti-oppressive mental health care is about creating emotional release routes that respect cultural ways of knowing.
Concurrent sessions gave participants the chance to go deeper. Whether in: Unwali Sauter’s breakout on solidarity, Joelleann Forbes’ talk on navigating difficult workplace dynamics, or Dr. Mohan’s innovative practices discussion, each session acted as a mirror to the day’s guiding question; how do we make mental health equity more than aspirational rhetoric?
The conference closed with an honest moment of collective reflection. Attendees were invited not only to share takeaways, but also to acknowledge how much weight we all carry within our re -
spective roles. Equity work in mental health, whether as: practitioners, policymakers, advocates, or community members, isn’t linear. It requires stamina, compassion, and most critically, shared responsibility.
If there’s a thread that ties this gathering together, it is this; mental health equity is collective work, and collective work is cultural work. Across Boundaries created a temporary space where the community could pause and practice the solidarity we so often talk about.
Take your commitment to equity and mental health further: volunteer, advocate, or donate with Across Boundaries today and help build real, community-led change.
The Carnival That Built a Country: Toronto’s Caribbean Cultural Powerhouse
From Immigrant Roots to Global Destination, CEO Mischka Crichton Shares the Vision Behind Canada’s Most Vibrant Cultural Celebration
“Joy is an expression of freedom. Joy is ownership over oneself.”
As the summer heat blankets Toronto, a vibrant explosion of colour, rhythm, and tradition prepares to take over the city streets. The Toronto Caribbean Carnival stands as a testament to resilience, cultural preservation, and community building, a celebration that transcends mere entertainment and embodies something profoundly meaningful…
I sat down with CEO Mischka Crichton to understand the heart behind this spectacular display of Caribbean heritage and its future in Canada’s cultural landscape. What happens when a celebration becomes a lifeline for cultural identity?
“Toronto Caribbean Carnival was built by our aunties, uncles, and grandparents, immigrants who carved out space for joy in a new land,” Crichton reflects, her voice carrying the weight of generations. “That foundation is why it represents every island, every race, every religion, every story, every part of the Caribbean. Toronto Carnival is representative of every thread of the Caribbean diaspora.”
The theme this year, “Take Me Home”, resonates deeply with this narrative because the Toronto Caribbean Carnival itself is a homecoming and a place where everyone belongs. “It’s the love affair between Canada and Caribbean people,” Crichton explains. “It is part of this uniquely Canadian experience where diversity is not just tolerated, it’s celebrated. Only here do so many cultures come together to celebrate Caribbean heritage as their own. True diversity and inclusivity. It is an immigrant story that has become a national tradition.”
In our conversation, I felt the passion behind her words, the sense of responsibility to honour those who laid the foundation while ensuring the Carnival evolves with each generation. This delicate balance between preservation and innovation lies at the heart of the Carnival’s leadership team. Crichton is quick to emphasize that the Carnival’s success is a team and community success, “Carnival is bigger than any one person. It’s a movement led by many hands. Our dedicated leadership team, staff, stakeholders, and hundreds of
She points to Executive Chair Jennifer Hirlehey, whose decades of advocacy and governance expertise have strengthened and provided strategic leadership to the organization; General Manager Adrian Charles, whose stoic and steady leadership guides the Carnival through the tumultuous waters of producing a world-class festival; and the Board of Directors, who provide direction, governance, and accountability. Together, this team anchors and drives the future of the Festival while honouring its legacy.
Crichton stresses that a significant part of the Festival is free, addressing a common barrier that might prevent community members from participating. “Access matters. Carnival is meant to be experienced by everyone. That’s why we make sure there are free and low-cost entry points across the festival.”
This commitment to accessibility reflects a deeper understanding of Carnival’s role in community building. New elements such as Fete en Blanc, Carnival Villages, and Blue Mountain Caribbean Winterfest demonstrate their responsiveness to community needs, creating multiple entry points for engagement.
The economic impact of Toronto Caribbean Carnival cannot be overstated. “We contribute more than half a billion dollars to the economy in Canada,” Crichton states firmly. “There is an ecosystem that relies on this Carnival to happen every year. For many small businesses, Carnival weekend is the single biggest revenue day of the year.” These numbers tell only part of the story. Beyond economics, the Carnival serves as a bridge between cultures, a platform for education, and a space where Caribbean Canadians can see themselves reflected in the broader Canadian narrative.
“This year we began our next generation committee initiative led by Board Member Judy Kirby,” Crichton shares with evident pride. “We started with a core group of four individuals and have grown to a group of twenty young people 30 years old and under. We are so proud of this. We had to ask the strategic question: who will step into leadership roles and how do we develop leaders from within our community?” The question of succession planning reflects a maturity in organizational thinking rarely seen in cultural institutions. By intentionally cultivating young leadership through groups like C.A.L.L., Carnival Arts Legacy and Leadership, the Festival ensures its relevance for decades to come.
The educational partnerships re -
veal another strategic approach to cultural transmission. “Through our relationship with Toronto FC, MLSE, and the Toronto District School Board, we’re embedding Carnival history and Caribbean heritage into our education system,” Crichton explains. “It is important that our children understand our history and what binds us to our culture and who we are. It is important for our children to see our culture and themselves reflected in our educational programs. The impact of these initiatives extends beyond the Caribbean community. “What we’re ultimately teaching is tolerance and respect,” Crichton notes. “At its heart, this is about belonging. For the first time, some children see their culture recognized at school.”
When asked about the vision for the next decade, Crichton’s eyes light up with possibility. “Ten years from now, we see Toronto Caribbean Carnival as one of the great global cultural destinations and the leading vehicle for ethno-cultural understanding; a place where young leaders are empowered to carry the torch, where people from every background can feel at home, and our story anchored all year round. Ten years from now we will have achieved the Chair’s vision of owning our own building, housing venue spaces for our stakeholders and a museum ensuring protection, preservation, and sharing of our cultural artifacts.”
This ambition is tempered by a deep sense of responsibility for Mischka and the
Executive leadership team. To achieve these goals, it will take work and collaboration from all of us, our community, our volunteers, our staff, our stakeholders - all working together with focus and joy. “For Caribbean Canadians, it is important for everyone to remember that this Carnival belongs to us - to the pioneers, to every generation that has grown with it, and to the youngest children who are now stepping into it for the first time. It is our responsibility to support, participate, elevate, and represent proudly.”
As our conversation draws to a close, I’m struck by the emotional intelligence Crichton brings to her role. She navigates complex issues of cultural preservation, economic sustainability, and intergenerational knowledge transfer with grace and determination. “I see Carnival as a vehicle for the liberation of people,” she concludes. “It began as liberation and today it continues - empowering entrepreneurs, uplifting communities, and offering a home to anyone who believes in the power of culture to unite us.”
In a world increasingly divided, the Toronto Caribbean Carnival stands for what’s possible when culture, community, and joy intersect. Under this team’s leadership, the Toronto Caribbean Carnival is thriving, evolving, and preparing to welcome home generations yet to come.
volunteers who are the backbone of the festival.”
Every season has its own rhythm. Summer hums with energy, fall settles us back into routine, winter brings us close together, and spring reminds us that life always renews itself. When we live in a small community, those rhythms aren’t just about the weather—they’re about us, the people who share in these moments together.
As summer starts to wind down, I’ve been reflecting on how much the seasons shape our sense of belonging. In July and August, there’s always a buzz in the air. Festivals, car shows, BBQs, and family visits keep us busy and connected. Neighbours wave a little longer when driving by. Friends gather on porches or around campfires that stretch late into the night. These warm months remind us of the joy in coming together and the importance of making memories while the sun still hangs high in the sky.
Then fall sneaks in. The air cools, the days shorten, and the pace shifts. Parents start pulling out school supplies, gardens are harvested, and life regains structure. It’s a season that grounds us. We may not gather as often as in summer, but when we do, the moments feel just as meaningful. It’s in fall that I notice the small things: the neighbour who helps rake leaves, the farmer who shares a late crop of vegetables, the friendly faces at the arena or community centre. Autumn may be quieter, but it’s full of steady, reliable connection.
Winter, of course, asks us to draw closer. Cold weather and long nights push us indoors, but in Northern Ontario, that has always meant leaning on each other even more. Whether it’s snowmobilers meeting on the trails, families bundled together at the rink, or neighbours lending a hand when the driveway fills faster than you can shovel, winter has a way of reminding us that no one thrives alone. We may not love every snowstorm, but there’s something comforting in knowing we endure it together. There’s also a beauty in the traditions that come with
winter—the way communities sparkle with lights, or how a shared hot chocolate after a long day of work warms more than just your hands.
And then spring arrives. No season carries quite the same feeling of renewal. The snow melts, the ground softens, and people step outside with a fresh energy. Windows are cracked open, bicycles reappear, and suddenly you see more neighbours out and about. After months of hibernation, spring feels like a reset button—not just for nature, but for us too. It’s the season where plans are made, projects are started, and we carry a renewed sense of optimism into the rest of the year.
When I think about it, the changing seasons aren’t just markers of time— they’re markers of community. Each one gives us something different to lean on. Summer celebrates connection. Fall encourages gratitude. Winter reminds us of resilience. Spring inspires us with hope. Together, they form a cycle that mirrors life itself: sometimes fast and lively, sometimes quiet and reflective, sometimes challenging, and sometimes filled with possibility.
What makes a strong community isn’t just how we show up in one season, but how we carry each other through all four. Whether we’re standing together in the heat of summer, the cool winds of fall, the icy grips of winter, or the fresh renewal of spring, our bond is what makes the difference.
So as we shift into this next season, let’s carry the spirit of each one forward. Let’s remember the laughter of summer, the gratitude of fall, the closeness of winter, and the renewal of spring. Communities, like seasons, thrive when we embrace every stage, and when we take the time to show up for one another—no matter the weather.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what makes this place home: not just where we live, but who we share it with, season after season.
SIMONE SMITH
simone@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
When I first encountered the latest global wealth statistics, I felt a familiar heaviness in my chest. The numbers tell a story that is both staggering and deeply personal: the richest 1% now own nearly half of our world’s wealth, while billions struggle to meet basic needs. As I have sat with community members across different neighbourhoods, I’ve witnessed how these abstract figures translate into tangible realities; families choosing between groceries and rent, young people bur-
PAUL JUNOR
paul@carib101.com TC REPORTER
Who pays the price for billionaire wealth?
dened by impossible housing costs, and elders wondering if their lifetime of work will afford them dignity in retirement.
The data reveals a troubling trajectory. According to the UBS Global Wealth Report, the wealthiest individuals collectively hold approximately $214 trillion in assets. Meanwhile, nearly 40% of the global adult population possesses less than 1% of total wealth, often with financial assets below $10,000.
What strikes me most profoundly is how these disparities have widened during times of collective crisis. In 2024 alone, billionaire wealth increased by $2.8 trillion (roughly $7.9 billion per day) while nearly 3.6 billion people remained trapped in poverty, unchanged since 1990.
As I have investigated these patterns, I have come to understand
that this isn’t simply about individual choices, or isolated policy failures. The systems we have built: corporate monopolies, tax havens, neoliberal policies create conditions where wealth naturally concentrates at the top. These structures determine access to healthcare and education, and ultimately write the script for who gets to thrive and who merely survives.
Yet, I have found hope in community conversations where diverse voices acknowledge shared concerns. Whether speaking with business owners, educators, or faith leaders, I have discovered a common thread; the recognition that extreme inequality undermines everything in our society. When wealth becomes this concentrated, it erodes social cohesion, limits opportunity, and prevents us from addressing collective challenges effectively.
The path forward requires both structural change and a shift in how we view our interconnectedness. This means implementing wealth taxes, closing corporate loopholes, and investing in public goods that benefit everyone, but it also demands something more personal; a willingness to see ourselves in each other’s struggles and to build economic systems that reflect our shared humanity.
As we confront these uncomfortable truths together, I’m reminded that acknowledging the problem is our first step toward healing. The wealth gap reflects our values and priorities. By approaching it with both clear eyes and compassionate hearts, we can begin building an economy that works for all of us, not just a privileged few.
Why is Ontario bringing police back into schools?
site describes her as deeply involved in struggles to remove police from educational spaces in Toronto, across Turtle Island, and internationally. Speakers at the press conference reflected a broad coalition of voices:
• Andrea Vasquez Jimenez, Director and Consultant
The Ontario government’s plan to reintroduce police into schools has ignited a storm of resistance across the Greater Toronto Area. On Monday, July 28th, 2025, Policing-Free Schools Ontario and its supporters held a press conference at Queen’s Park, demanding investment in education, not policing.
The group’s press release framed Bill 33 as “Sweeping legislation, a power grab that ultimately mandates police-in-schools programs, namely the School Resource Officer Program.” For many community members, this bill reflects the government’s push for broader control over school boards, using student safety as the pretext.
Policing-Free Schools Ontario, founded by educator and organizer Andrea Vasquez Jimenez, has long fought to remove police from educational spaces. The organization’s web -
• Beyhan Farhadi, Assistant Professor of Educational Policy and Equity at OISE, University of Toronto
• Joy Henderson, Afro-Indigenous mother and child and youth worker
• Raheem White, Grade 12 student and student trustee
• Cyrielle Ngeleeka, Chairperson of the Canadian Federation of Students Ontario
• Laura Walton, President of the Ontario Federation of Labour
• Kristyn Wong-Tam, Member of Provincial Parliament, Ontario NDP
Their collective message was clear: schools need more funding for teachers, resources, and student support, not a return to policing. Policing-Free Schools Ontario has laid out 18 ways people can get involved in resisting Bill 33. These include:
• Sign the online petition
• Send an email to representatives
• Make a call
• Share your story
• Endorse as an organization
• Use campaign hashtags
• Donate to the movement
• Join the back-to-school initiative
• Sign petitions to be tabled in the Legislature
• Attend campaign press conferences
• Join teach-ins and rallies
• Fill the public gallery at Queen’s Park
• Participate in province-wide rallies
• Connect with the Ontario campaign network
• Subscribe to the mailing list
• Follow the WhatsApp channel
• Learn more about Bill 33
• Take local action: strategize, organize, mobilize, analyze
The campaign emphasizes collective action, with students, educators, parents, and labour leaders standing together.
On Wednesday, August 27th, 2025, Policing-Free Schools Ontario will host a major teach-in at Queen’s Park. Speakers from the education sector will lay out the case against polic-
ing in schools and call on the public to join the movement.
This campaign isn’t a one-time protest. Advocates argue the issue will shape the upcoming school year and beyond. For students (particularly Black, Indigenous, and racialized youth) the return of police to classrooms represents not safety, but surveillance and harm.
The government insists Bill 33 is about security. Critics counter that safety comes from: smaller class sizes, better mental health supports, and equitable learning environments, not police officers patrolling hallways.
If you want to support the movement for policing-free schools, start by visiting policingfreeschools.ca. You can: sign petitions, join rallies, or simply share the campaign’s message with your network. Every action builds momentum.
Ontario stands at a crossroads: will the province invest in nurturing students, or double down on discipline and control? The answer may set the tone for education policy across Canada.
One thing is certain; the fight for policing-free schools is far from over.
If AI can read your mind, what future awaits humanity?
MICHAEL THOMAS
michael@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
Have you ever been told to “guard your thoughts?” That warning carries new weight today.
Researchers at Stanford University and MIT have created a program that can read and voice human thoughts with near-perfect accuracy. What sounds like science fiction is now science fact, and its implications are enormous.
Companies such as: Neuralink, Merge Labs, and Synchron are racing to commercialize thought-to-speech technology. Their early focus is medical: giving a voice to people with conditions like ALS, or stroke, but as with
every breakthrough, the potential for profit (and abuse) extends far beyond healthcare.
The research team’s findings, published in Cell, come from a trial called BrainGate2. Participants who had lost the ability to speak received implanted electrodes. These devices captured neural signals as they attempted speech. AI then decoded those signals into words, successfully restoring communication.
While this was groundbreaking, it also proved exhausting for patients. The next step pushed the boundaries further: could AI decode words people only thought, but didn’t attempt to say? The answer was startling. Yes.
In some cases, the system reached 98% accuracy. One patient, Casey Harrell, who lives with ALS, conversed with friends and family using a deepfake version of his own voice. On the surface, this sounds like a miracle, but beneath it lies a troubling ques-
tion; what happens when machines know our thoughts, not just our words? Imagine this technology fully integrated into society. An AI-driven police robot could know what you think about the government. Worse, the system doesn’t just capture words you intend to say, it can also pick up the endless inner monologue most of us run in our heads.
The dangers are obvious. Misinterpreted, or unintended thoughts could trigger devastating consequences. To address this, researchers proposed two safeguards:
• A filter to block inner speech, allowing only attempted speech to be decoded.
• A “thought password” that turns the system on and off.
While these solutions sound promising, they raise another question; why build such a system at all if it demands this level of control?
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: AI learns from us. Everything it knows, we’ve taught it; willingly, or not. In fact, platforms like YouTube already give administrators the choice to let AI train on their content in exchange for more exposure.
This trade-off may feel harmless at the moment, but history offers a warning. Many workers have trained eager interns, only to later be replaced by them. The same logic applies here. In trying to build something: smarter, faster, and more powerful, we risk creating the very system that replaces (or controls) us.
At its best, mind-reading AI offers hope to those robbed of their voices. At its worst, it threatens freedom itself. By subcontracting our own minds to machines, we may be surrendering more than we realize.
So, ask yourself; if AI can already read your thoughts, how long before it decides what to do with them?
Little Jamaica Business Initiative launches to save Black businesses
PAUL JUNOR
paul@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
The buzz on Eglinton West was impossible to miss on Monday, August 11th, 2025. Community members, entrepreneurs, and civic leaders gathered at Studio M, 1672 Eglinton Avenue West, for the launch of the Little Jamaica Business Initiative. The event, hosted by the Canadian Reggae Music Association (CRMA), was a lifeline.
According to the CRMA’s press release, the Initiative aims to bring hundreds of new customers into the Little Jamaica community to support Black-owned businesses from August 11th to 17th.” Alongside the launch came the unveiling of a mural honouring the 32nd anniversary of Rasta Fest, a reminder that culture and commerce in Little Jamaica have always gone hand in hand.
Much of the evening’s energy
circled back to land, ownership, and the fight against gentrification. Urban planner Jay Pitter’s advocacy and the Little Jamaica Community Land Trust (LJCLT) have kept pressure on the city to protect the neighbourhood’s Blackowned businesses.
Founded in 2019, the LJCLT became the first Black-led land trust in Canada. Its mandate is bold, “To ensure the survival of Black-owned businesses on Eglinton, protect affordability, and give community members the power to shape their future.
Coordinator Anyika Mark reminded the audience why this mission matters. Despite construction delays from the Eglinton Crosstown LRT and waves of commercial displacement, she has worked relentlessly to preserve local culture. “Land ownership is not an option, it’s survival,” she told the crowd.
About 20 people stood outside the venue to watch the mural unveiling. Among them were long-time residents, property owners, and local business operators. They swapped stories of struggle and resilience.
Mike Colle recalled seeing legendary reggae artists perform in
Little Jamaica and emphasized how festivals like Rasta Fest pass on that cultural legacy. Ms. Diana, a property owner, pointed to the community’s role in shaping Toronto’s identity. Others stressed the urgent need to secure ownership before developers erase decades of history.
Local business owners spoke candidly about the damage already done. Jayson, owner of Casual Beauty Salon at 1572 Eglinton West, called the disruption from construction a “crisis,” noting his staff shrank from seven to five. Another entrepreneur, Abi, shared that she is still paying off debts from the losses that forced her business to close.
The numbers back them up. As journalist David Piedra reported for The Green Line, more than 140 Blackowned businesses have shut their doors since LRT construction began in 2011. Many had thrived for decades but couldn’t survive the upheaval.
The launch also highlighted the ongoing work of Black Urbanism Toronto (BUTO), the nonprofit that helped create the LJCLT. BUTO’s mission is straightforward: keep Black residents in their neighbourhood through
shared ownership. Without it, Little Jamaica risks becoming a memory.
Dr. Jill Andrew, a long-time advocate for Black businesses, underscored this urgency. She reminded the crowd that Premier Doug Ford’s government has overlooked the community’s needs for far too long. “This is about more than survival,” she said. “It’s about dignity, respect, and the right to stay.”
The Little Jamaica Business Initiative may have launched with art and applause, but the event was far from symbolic. It was a call to action. Every speaker, from business owners to civic leaders, made it clear: preserving Little Jamaica requires more than support for a week-long initiative. It demands sustained investment, community ownership, and political accountability.
For now, the mural stands as both tribute and warning. It honours the: artists, entrepreneurs, and elders who built this community, and reminds everyone that without protection, Little Jamaica could fade into Toronto’s past.
A Quiet Law with Loud Consequences for Equity and Activism
It starts with a question that many of us have yet to fully ask; who truly controls the space where our voices rise: the streets, schools, churches, and public squares of Toronto? There’s a hidden story behind the city’s new “bubble bylaw” passed in 2025, a story that intertwines with global promises and local realities.
This law, on the surface, protects vulnerable spaces from disruption by keeping protests 50 metres away from sites like: schools, places of worship, and daycares. A simple idea, right? Pause here; what happens when “protection” becomes a barrier? When safety measures quietly shape who is heard, and who is silenced?
The bubble; A visible line, an invisible barrier
On paper, the bubble bylaw seems straightforward: it creates a 50-metre “exclusion zone” around vulnerable sites such as: schools, daycares, and places of worship where protests cannot happen. The city framed it as a protection for children and the vulnerable, but probes beyond the surface reveal a wall that threatens to mute cries for justice on issues like police violence, housing, immigrant rights, and broader social equity.
This is an emotional and political chasm. Community consultations showed nearly two-thirds opposed the bylaw, with many saying it criminalizes dissent and chills the right to peaceful protest. Despite vocal opposition, including from equity-rights groups like Black Lives Matter and 2SLGBTQ+ organizations, it was passed.
Behind the curtain; The shape of public opinion
Why did this happen? It’s a reminder that narratives are powerful tools for shaping ac-
ceptance, or silence. By couching the bylaw in terms of “safety,” the city guided public opinion toward acquiescence.
Yet, those on the frontlines of protest feel this law disproportionately targets Afro/Indo Caribbean and racialized communities. As one community leader told me, “This is a message about who is seen as a threat when we speak up.”
Social data back this up: police are nearly three times more likely to intervene in peaceful protests led by Afro/Indo organizers than in others. Critics, including the Canadian Civil Liberties Association, warn that the bylaw risks infringing on Charter rights without addressing root causes of hate or violence.
Agenda 2030 and Toronto’s contradictions
Now, consider this against the backdrop of Agenda 2030; the United Nations’ global call to “Leave no one behind.” Toronto champions bold initiatives like TransformTO, aiming for net-zero emissions and sustainable inclusivity. Yet, here, local laws and lived realities seem to contradict those goals.
How can a city commit to equity and inclusion internationally while erecting local barriers that marginalize Afro/Indo, Indigenous, and racialized voices? This contradiction stings deeply for Toronto’s Afro and Indo/Caribbean communities. The bylaw lays bare the persistent gap between aspirational frameworks and everyday experience.
Agenda 2030, heralded as a bold blueprint for global sustainable development, promises a world where no one is left behind targeting: poverty, inequality, environmental degradation, and health for all. Yet, beneath its visionary goals lies a striking tension: How can such an ambitious agenda claim progress while glaring contradictions undermine its promises? Digging deeper reveals that world leaders, consciously, or not, often shape narratives to protect their own interests ensuring their countries and status are preserved, even as vulnerable populations continue to struggle.
One major contradiction lies in the agenda’s heavy reliance on quantitative targets and data-monitoring. While reports overflow with numbers showcasing “progress,” these often obscure structural causes
of poverty and inequality. Rather than digging into the deep-rooted: economic, political, and historical systems that perpetuate disparities, the agenda can become a showcase of surface-level wins. This allows governments to demonstrate commitment without truly transforming troubling realities
Adding fuel to the fire; The vaccine debate
Just as tensions over protest rights simmer, another local controversy has stirred strong emotions; Toronto Public Health’s push to remove religious and philosophical exemptions for vaccines in schools.
For many families in Afro and Indo/ Caribbean communities, this is an emotional collision of: faith, identity, and protection. The city argues this step is vital for safeguarding vulnerable populations amid declining immunization rates. Yet, for others, the move feels like a loss of personal and spiritual autonomy, magnified by a history of mistrust toward health institutions that have too often failed racialized populations.
Walking
the tightrope between trust and authority
This issue reveals a psychological tension many face, balancing trust in public institutions with the need for cultural respect and autonomy. How can authorities mandate health measures while building real rapport with communities that have historically been marginalized? It’s a question Toronto, and Afro and Indo Caribbean residents, grapple with daily.
World leaders and international institutions wield significant power in framing how the world perceives progress on the SDGs. Often, narratives highlight optimistic projections, success stories, and incremental gains while downplaying stark failures and critiques from grassroots movements. This narrative control functions as a shield, protecting reputations, legitimizing regimes, and maintaining geopolitical influence.
It is also a strategy to manage public expectations. By focusing on data-driven “wins” and high-level conferences, leaders craft a sense of forward momentum, even as meaningful on-the-ground change remains elusive. This serves to pacify criticism and
sustain donor enthusiasm, which in turn secures ongoing funding and political capital.
Your voice at the center
This story is an open loop inviting everyone to participate in the ongoing conversation about power, justice, health, and belonging. Community stories are rich with emotion, history, and resilience. The bubble bylaw and vaccine exemption debate shows what is at stake, which is the very space communities occupy to be: heard, seen, and protected. In community journalism, we bring the emotional truth forward, modeling how we can process conflict, seek understanding, and carve out common ground.
An invitation to engage and act
What can you do? Write, speak, advocate. Join conversations with leaders, amplify marginalized voices, and demand that policies respect complex realities. Exposing these contradictions is crucial. The global goals must be matched by political courage to challenge entrenched power structures and prioritize the voices of those historically excluded.
Transparent storytelling and grassroots-led data can break through sanitized narratives, illuminating the true state of progress, or lack thereof. Communities need platforms where their lived realities shape policies directly, moving beyond “top-down” frameworks shaped by self-interested elites.
The takeaway: A city and community evolving
The bubble bylaw may have drawn a physical boundary, as well as draw attention to other ways that our government is shrinking our freedoms. It also marks a moment of awakening. It challenges us to think deeply about who shapes public space and whose voices are privileged.
Similarly, vaccine policy debates underline the need for more than top-down decisions; they call for partnerships built on: trust, dialogue, and understanding. Together, the Afro and Indo Caribbean communities of Toronto stand at a critical juncture balancing assertive advocacy with openness to healing. This is the journey at the heart of community empowerment.
Will Ontario parents lose their say in local schools?
cern is Gregory Tomchyshyn of CitizenGo, who has launched a petition urging Education Minister Paul Calandra and Premier Doug Ford to restore democratic governance in schools. CitizenGo, an international advocacy network, describes its mission as “Defending life, family, and freedom across the world.” According to the group, nearly 19 million citizens worldwide have joined its campaigns.
On Tuesday, September 2nd, 2025, Ontario students will return to classrooms under an uneasy shadow. The provincial government has placed five major school boards under the control of appointed supervisors, leaving: parents, teachers, trustees, and students uncertain about the future of education in this province.
The affected boards include the Thames Valley District School Board (TVDSB), Toronto District School Board (TDSB), Toronto Catholic District School Board (TCDSB), Ottawa-Carleton District School Board (OCDSB), and Dufferin-Peel Catholic District School Board (DPCDSB). With elected trustees sidelined, critics argue that democracy in education has been quietly dismantled.
One of the loudest voices of con-
Tomchyshyn’s petition, launched on July 28th, 2025, frames the government’s move as an attack on civil rights. “Now decisions on education are being made by government supervisors instead of people you can actually hold directly accountable,” he writes. “Parents, families, and citizens have lost one of the only ways they can shape what happens inside their schools.”
The petition warns that this shift is not temporary. “If we stay quiet,” Tomchyshyn cautions, “Both public and publicly funded Catholic schools will be run by unaccountable insiders with no way for you to push back.”
Tomchyshyn argues that trustees play a vital role in public education. As the most local form of representation, they understand what is happening inside
schools more closely than provincial politicians. “Trustees are our representatives at the lowest level of politics,” he explains.
“They reflect the voice of families in their community. Their job is to ensure kids learn what matters most while keeping schools accountable to local priorities.”
He worries that replacing trustees with government-appointed supervisors cuts communities out of decision-making.
“The boards are now run by government supervisors making all the critical decisions regarding your child’s school without public accountability,” he emphasizes.
According to Tomchyshyn, the loss of trustees means:
• Local knowledge disappears. Trustees live in the communities they serve, which makes them better equipped to understand the unique needs of each school.
• Accessibility vanishes. Parents can call or meet with trustees far more easily than with provincial politicians.
• Checks and balances weaken. Without elected trustees, communities lose their ability to challenge or redirect decisions that impact classrooms.
The result, he argues, is top-down control where the Ministry of Education dictates policy without local input.
While critics of school boards sometimes complain about inefficiency, or bureaucracy, Tomchyshyn stresses that the solution should not be to strip communities of their rights. Instead, he believes the provincial takeover sets a dangerous precedent. If these five boards remain under government control, more boards could follow.
“This isn’t just politics,” he warns. “It’s your children’s future, hijacked by bureaucrats.”
Tomchyshyn’s petition is gaining traction, but whether the government will respond remains unclear. For parents, teachers, and students heading into the 2025–2026 school year, the reality is that decisions about their schools are no longer in local hands.
Supporters of CitizenGo’s campaign say restoring trustees is about defending communities’ right to have a say in how children are educated.
Anyone interested in learning more about the petition can visit citizengo. org
Can endless economic growth and climate goals ever align?
MICHAEL THOMAS
michael@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
I keep coming back to one central question: how can Agenda 2030 claim to protect the planet while demanding continuous economic growth? The contradiction sits at the heart of the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), and researchers, economists, and everyday people like you and me are beginning to see the cracks.
The SDGs promise harmony with nature, protecting ecosystems, conserving resources, and slowing climate change (Goals 6, 12, 13, 14, 15). At the same time,
paul@carib101.com
Goal 8 pushes for at least 3% global economic growth every year. Growth, they argue, drives jobs, innovation, and human development. On paper, it sounds balanced. In reality, the two goals pull in opposite directions.
Researchers have crunched the numbers. If the world keeps chasing 3% annual GDP growth, global resource use could exceed safe limits by two, or three times before 2030. That means more: mining, drilling, energy use, and pollution, hardly the recipe for “living in harmony with nature.”
Some argue that technology can fix this through what’s called “decoupling” producing more while using fewer resources. Here’s the problem: absolute decoupling at a global scale hasn’t been achieved. The more the world grows, the more it consumes. The greenhouse gas cuts required to keep warming below 2°C? Impossible if growth continues on today’s terms.
The real issue is structural. Our
global economy thrives on neoliberal systems that reward profit, consumption, and expansion. International environmental agreements rarely challenge this. Instead, they rely on “green capitalism,” marketbased solutions, efficiency gains, and the hope that new technologies will save us. Incremental fixes won’t reconcile the fundamental clash between infinite growth and a finite planet. This growth-first model widens inequality and often leaves marginalized communities paying the highest price in environmental destruction.
Jason Hickel from the University of London argues that Goal 8 is flat-out incompatible with sustainability. His research calls for shifting focus from aggregate growth to equity and wellbeing. Others agree that “growthism” is an obstacle to real sustainability, because it masks the deeper problem: a system designed to consume beyond the Earth’s limits.
Even leading climate scientists are blunt. Johan Rockström, director of the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Re -
search, summed it up: “It’s difficult to see if the current GDP-based model of economic growth can go hand-in-hand with rapid cutting of emissions.”
If you’ve ever wondered why climate change policies feel inconsistent, this is why. On one hand, governments urge you to drive less, eat less meat, and recycle. On the other, they celebrate rising GDP, encourage consumption, and subsidize industries that keep emissions soaring. The mixed messaging is built into the very framework of Agenda 2030.
So, here’s the truth: real sustainability will require more than tweaking cars, farms, or consumer habits. It will demand rethinking growth itself as the measure of progress. Until then, we’ll continue spinning in circles, told to save the planet while being pushed to consume more every year.
If I could say one thing to the architects of Agenda 2030, it’s this; contradictions eventually catch up with you, and unlike politics, nature doesn’t negotiate.
JCA 63rd Gala: One Love, One Mission Celebration
scribed the gala’s theme as a perfect reflection of the JCA’s work, “For over six decades, the Association has been a pillar of unity, advocacy, and cultural preservation, uplifting generations and strengthening the bonds between Jamaica and Canada. I am honoured to serve as Patron for this signature event.”
The Jamaican Canadian Association (JCA) marked a milestone with its 63rd Annual Anniversary Gala & Independence Celebration under the theme One Love, One Mission. Held on Saturday, August 9th, 2025, at the Jamaican Canadian Community Centre, the event honoured more than six decades of unity, advocacy, and cultural pride.
Distinguished patron Her Excellency Marsha Coore Lobban, Jamaica’s High Commissioner to Canada, presided over the evening. Guests enjoyed performances from: the Elite Dancers, Jay Douglas and the All Stars, and music by Cornel Anthony, known as DJ Funky. The evening’s host, Marcia Brown, kept the energy vibrant throughout the celebration.
High Commissioner Lobban de -
JCA President David Betty echoed the theme’s deeper meaning, “Tonight, we honour our past, celebrate our present, and recommit to a future built on: unity, justice, and the enduring spirit of One Love. The same love that moves us to dance must also move us to stand for dignity, for our community and for people everywhere.”
Canada’s Prime Minister, the Right Honourable Mark Carney, extended greetings in the program, “This event offers a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the history of Jamaica and its accomplishments since Independence on August 6th, 1962. Thanks to our shared values, Canada’s connection with Jamaica has flourished.”
Parliamentary Leader of the Official Opposition, the Honourable Andrew Scheer, praised the JCA’s role in preserving traditions and fostering community spirit. Humber River–Black Creek MP Judy A. Sgro also acknowledged the association’s resilience
and contribution to Canada’s multicultural identity.
Jamaican-born Dr. Maurice Bygrave and Guyanese-born Ned Blair reminded attendees that true freedom requires preparation for the next generation of leaders, “They must feel the passion you, the founders of the Jamaican Association, felt, and what you still feel today.”
Commander Paul A. Smith, Commanding Officer of His Majesty’s Canadian Ship York, delivered the keynote speech. Born in Jamaica, Smith migrated to Canada and rose through the ranks of the Canadian Armed Forces. He holds the distinction of being the first African Canadian officer to command a Royal Canadian Navy warship. His words resonated deeply, “It’s always on my mind; if there’s an opportunity to make change somewhere, then there’s an opportunity to set an example.”
The gala also honoured community members and organizations making a difference:
Volunteer Awards
• Dr. Dana Powell – Volunteer Award
• Mary Green – Outstanding Volunteer of the Year
Golden Jubilee Award
• Sheila Raymond
• Pansy Stewart
Lifetime Service Award
• Sonia Griffith
• Pauline Reid
25-Year Membership Service Award
• Dr. Sylvanus Thompson
Community Service Awards
• Individual: Jay Douglas — threetime Juno nominee, producer, and bandleader
• Organizations: Joint Coalition Addressing Needs (JCAN) and Rhema Food Bank, founded in 2018 by Grace Williams, which continues to serve residents across the Greater Toronto Area.
The evening closed with a spirit of reflection and joy. The gala was a celebration of the past; it was a declaration of resilience, unity, and commitment to future generations. For those who want to learn more about the JCA’s ongoing work, visit www.jcaontario. org. This was an event to remember.
Ontario’s Tourism Renaissance: discover your next adventure close to home
Have you ever felt that pull to explore, but found yourself looking past what’s right in your backyard? As members of Ontario’s vibrant African and Indo-Caribbean communities, we carry rich traditions, stories, and connections that span continents. Yet sometimes, we overlook the treasures waiting just beyond our doorstep.
The Tourism Industry Association of Ontario recently launched “Forward Motion,” a strategic playbook that promises to transform how we experience travel within our province. What caught my at-
tention was the growing visitor spending to over $38 billion by 2030 and the fact that this would be creating 35,000 new jobs. There was also something deeper; the commitment to inclusive tourism that speaks directly to us.
Developed through extensive consultations with Indigenous leaders and diverse community voices, it acknowledges what we have always known; travel experiences resonate most when they reflect our identities and histories.
When I spoke with community members about traveling within Ontario, I heard mixed feelings. Some expressed concern about finding culturally relevant experiences, while others worried about representation in tourism marketing. These are valid feelings I have shared while planning outings.
The Forward Motion strategy directly addresses these concerns through its six core pillars, particularly: “Strengthen Workforce Resilience” and “Foster Col-
laboration and Leadership.” These initiatives aim to ensure that tourism in Ontario reflects the full diversity of our province, meaning more opportunities for Afro/ Indo and Caribbean-owned businesses to shine, more stories that center our experiences, and more spaces where we feel genuinely welcomed.
Imagine summer festivals celebrating Caribbean culture in Ottawa, African heritage tours in Windsor, or IndoCaribbean culinary experiences in Toronto, all enhanced by this renewed focus on inclusive tourism. The strategy’s emphasis on expanding transportation infrastructure also means easier access to these experiences, whether you’re traveling from Brampton, or Brockville. What excites me most is how this strategy recognizes tourism as: connection, preservation of culture, and economic empowerment for our communities. When we travel within Ontario, we are not just tourists; we are participants in a larger
story of cultural recognition and economic growth.
As Minister Rechie Valdez noted, this strategy “Reflects the voices of those on the front lines: small business owners, Indigenous leaders, and tourism workers.” This includes members of our own communities (Roger Mooking) who are crafting unique experiences that bridge our heritage with our Canadian identity. This summer, I invite you to look at Ontario with fresh eyes. Visit that Afro/ Indo-owned restaurant you have been meaning to try. Explore the Caribbean cultural festival in your neighbouring city. Share your experiences and support businesses that speak to our shared heritage. In doing so, we are taking a vacation, and we are helping build a tourism industry that: sees us, values us, and celebrates us, and that’s a journey worth taking together.
How can Black youth build creativity, unity, and power in ESTEAM?
PAUL JUNOR
paul@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
On Wednesday, June 18th, 2025, the Peel District School Board (PDSB) hosted its first Kuumba & Umoja ESTEAM Conference for Black-identifying Grade 7 students. The full-day event took place at the University of Toronto Mississauga’s Instructional Centre, bringing together about 400 students from 60 schools across Brampton, Caledon, and Mississauga.
The name of the conference reflects two powerful Kwanzaa principles— Kuumba (creativity) and Umoja (unity). These values shaped a day rooted in African-centered traditions, cultural pride,
empowerment, and Black joy.
According to Mora Carruthers, Acting Manager of Communications & Engagement at PDSB, the conference aimed to increase representation in: Entrepreneurship, Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics (ESTEAM) and encourage students to explore diverse career pathways. Two dynamic keynote speakers inspired the students.
• Jennifer Laipo, Founder & CEO of The STEM Girl, delivered a talk titled “Reality by Design—Crafting Your World.” She emphasized that students can shape their own futures through imagination, planning, and persistence.
• Clayton Ellis, PDSB’s Science and Technological Education Instructional Coordinator, shared “Living My Best STEM Life.” His personal story highlighted the possibilities that open when curiosity and determination meet opportunity.
Their messages reinforced that Black youth not only belong in ESTEAM spaces, but they can also lead them.
The conference featured nearly 30 interactive workshops where students worked directly with: mentors, educators, and industry professionals. Some workshop titles included:
• Building STEM Skills
• Introduction to Engineering
• Black Entrepreneurship in the Skilled Trades
• Portrait Photography
Facilitators came from respected organizations such as: Vision of Science, McMaster University, IMBUK2 + Education, and One Voice One Team.
Students: built, experimented, problem-solved, and imagined. They walked away with practical strategies for navigating ESTEAM pathways and a deeper sense of possibility for their futures.
For many students, the confer-
ence marked a milestone as they prepare for their final year of elementary school. The day celebrated the achievements of people of African descent (particularly Black Canadians) who have shaped ESTEAM fields.
It also created space to talk openly about the opportunities and barriers students may face while pursuing these disciplines. By highlighting both the challenges and the potential, the conference offered a balanced, forward-looking vision. Above all, it celebrated: Black brilliance, resilience, and leadership.
The Kuumba & Umoja ESTEAM Conference was a call to action. It encouraged students to: dream bigger, embrace their cultural roots, and see themselves as innovators, creators, and leaders in ESTEAM.
For those eager to learn more about PDSB’s initiatives, visit www.pdsb. on.ca. Good news: this is only the beginning.
Doctor banned from using real name builds 50-year medical legacy empire
W. GIFFORDJONES MD
DIANA GIFFORD-JONES
TC HEALTH COLUMNIST
Starting in 1975, my father, Ken Walker, under the penname W. Gifford-Jones MD, wrote a weekly column first appearing in the Globe and Mail, and subsequently syndicated in Canada and the U.S. This year, the column crossed the 50-year mark, my father passed away at 101, and now I’m carrying on. For new readers and old, I’d like to address questions recently directed to me.
People ask, why the pseudonym? Was my father trying to hide his identity? In fact, in 1967, the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario prevented him from publishing under his own name. They
deemed his first book, written for a lay audience, to be the equivalent of advertising for patients, which was not allowed. Why he chose the name W. Gifford-Jones is found in his memoir. His publisher felt it sounded distinguished, like one might expect of a physician to the Queen! The name stuck as he authored more books and started his newspaper column.
In sharing his medical perspective, he challenged conventional wisdom and questioned the medical establishment. He took controversial stands on hotly debated issues, including abortion and medical assistance in dying. In another move, he invited readers to support his campaign to legalize heroin for terminal cancer pain management. Where did that money go?
Most went into purchasing newspaper advertisements to lobby for action by the government. I’ve recently come across a wonderful historical record of this fight. I’ll share more in a future column. Excess funds were donated to the University of Toronto to establish a professorship in palliative care and pain management.
A reader approached me with questions about the scientific basis for my father’s position on natural remedies, particularly high-dose vitamin C and lysine. He also raised questions about the intersection of journalism and commerce: if there is a product, does it compromise the message? These are fair questions, and I want to address them directly.
First, let me be clear: the column is written as a matter of tradition. My father used to receive something like $7/ week from some of the newspapers that published it. As traditional print media collapsed, he offered the column for free, as I do. My motivation is not financial. It is about a personal commitment to continue a health column having a long history of informing the public with insights not easy to get from the doctor’s office.
Yes, my father did endorse products from time to time, most notably Medi-C Plus, a supplement he worked hard to develop and promote, but which was subsequently purchased by another company ending my father’s involvement. Yes, at the age of 100, he launched his own new and
advanced formula for heart health called Giff’s Own CardioVibe. It is sold commercially through a company now owned by my brothers and me. We have no moral objection to this. Natural health products play a valuable role when used responsibly, and promoting them does not, in our view, conflict with the integrity of this column. In fact, transparency is part of that integrity. Scientific debate is at the heart of medicine. My father grounded his recommendations in research and observation. The goal has always been to present and explain the evidence, identify limitations, and offer practical advice. You are encouraged to make your own informed decisions. Critical thinking is central to the work.
Writing this column is an act of stewardship. It is a continuation of a legacy and a personal commitment to engage, educate, and empower readers. You may agree or disagree, and that is healthy. What matters is that the conversation is honest, transparent, and rooted in the intention to improve lives.
How many students are too many? Ontario teachers draw the line
paul@carib101.com
The Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario (ETFO), representing 84,000 educators, has spoken with a unified voice. As bargaining for the next central agreement approaches in 2026, the federation released the results of a province-wide survey on August 11th, 2025. The findings were clear: class size is the top concern across Ontario classrooms.
“For years, educators have called for smaller class sizes that better support student learning,” said ETFO President Karen Brown. “In 2026, ETFO is bringing
this fight back to the bargaining table with renewed urgency and collective strength.”
Brown has seen the problem firsthand. Large classes stretch teachers too thin, leaving little room for personalized support. She explained, “Overcrowded classrooms limit what’s possible. They reduce opportunities for individualized attention and make it harder to create calm, safe, inclusive spaces that our students deserve.”
Current funding guidelines allow primary grades (1 to 3) to average 20 students per class. Junior grades (4 to 8) are funded for an average of 24.5. But without firm caps for junior grades, many classes exceed 30 students.
ETFO is demanding legislative change. The federation wants the Ministry of Education to amend the Education Act, capping class sizes at 24 students for grades 4 to 8, and at 26 for kindergarten.
“Smaller classes are not a luxury,” Brown emphasized. “They are essential
to a strong public education system and critical to meeting the daily challenges we face.” She argued that reducing class sizes will improve student learning, cut down on school violence, and help teachers build stronger relationships with students. Smaller classes also lower teacher burnout, which supports retention in a profession already under pressure.
To drive home its message, ETFO has launched a bold new campaign: Smaller Classes, BIG DIFFERENCE. This provincewide initiative will showcase stories and data that underline why class size must be a bargaining priority in 2026.
According to ETFO, smaller classes directly affect equity. Students who need extra help, including those with disabilities, benefit most when educators have manageable class sizes.
The federation’s recently published position paper, Promises Unfulfilled: Addressing the Special Education Crisis in Ontario, calls for smaller classes and ad-
equate staffing as essential components of inclusion. “Every child, including those with disabilities, deserves to have their learning needs met,” the paper argues.
The Ford government’s education policy since 2018 has leaned toward larger classes, a direction that many teachers say harms both students and staff. ETFO is betting that public opinion, combined with the collective voice of educators, will make smaller class sizes a non-negotiable issue in the next round of bargaining.
The survey results give the federation a strong mandate. Members have identified class size as the issue that unites them across regions and roles. With this solidarity, ETFO is positioning itself to push for systemic change in 2026.
Brown summed it up bluntly: “If we want students to succeed, we must give them classrooms where success is possible. That means smaller classes, more support, and the resources to help every child thrive.”
Toronto Caribbean Magic: Literacy Festivals, Trinbago Feasts, Global Connections & Vanishing Towers!
Grab your doubles and settle in, because this edition is serving up everything from literary magic to actual magic! We’re taking you from Scarborough’s free literacy festival to Trinbago’s mouth-watering return that’ll have you planning your cheat day. Plus, JN Money is connecting families across ten new countries; talk about spreading the love worldwide! If that wasn’t enough excitement, Carson & Taylor are literally making the CN Tower vanish at The Second City. Don’t blink, Toronto; you might miss it!
What is The Next Chapter Festival?
The Reading Partnership is hosting a free literacy festival for children and families in Scarborough and beyond. The day will be packed with readings from local authors, live performances, exciting activities for kids of all ages, and cool giveaways. You won’t want to miss this! It’s going to be a magical day, and we’re inviting you to help us bring it to life!
Date: Saturday, October 4th, 2025
Time: Volunteer Shift Options - 8 am to 1 pm, 12:30 pm to 6 pm or 5:30 pm to 11 pm
Location: Scarborough Town Centre (STC)
Dress Code: Casual & Comfortable (The Next Chapter Festival T-Shirts provided)
Trinbago - The largest celebration of Trinidad and Tobago Culinary Arts and Culture Returns to Toronto! Toronto Transforms into A Caribbean Paradise as Trinbago Toronto Festival returns with flavours, rhythm, and purpose!
Date: September 5th –7th, 2025
Location: Nathan Phillips Square
Get ready to indulge in the rich flavours, vibrant culture, and island vibes of Trinidad and Tobago at the Trinbago Toronto Festival, the largest celebration of its kind in Canada, taking place this year from September 5th to 7th at Nathan Phillips
Square. This dynamic festival is not just a feast for the senses, it is a powerful cultural movement that ignites community spirit while driving educational and economic empowerment for Caribbean youth.
“The Trinbago Toronto Festival is built on community, the Trinidad and Tobago diaspora, and the friends we have made here in Canada. It’s proof of what happens when cultures connect, stories are shared, and we work together to keep our traditions alive for the next generation.” says Petronilla Marchan, Palo Seco managing Director, Trinbago Festival organizer.
In its 4th year, the Trinbago Toronto Festival is more than a vibrant showcase of: music, dance, culinary delights, fashion, and art, it’s a vital fundraiser presented by the Caribbean Scholarship Foundation (CSF), whose mission is breaking barriers and building bridges of opportunity through: scholarships, mentorships, and empowerment programs. Every beat, every bite, and every brilliant moment at this celebration directly fuels these life-changing initiatives for the Caribbean diaspora across Canada.
This year’s festival promises an explosion of authentic taste and tradition, proudly billed as Canada’s largest Trinidad and Tobago food festival. Visitors will savour everything from mouthwatering Doubles and Bake and Shark to rich Buss-up-Shut paired with savoury Curry Duck. Classic favourites like Pelau, Callaloo, Corn Soup, and sweet treats await your discovery, prepared exclusively by top Trinbagonian chefs and culinary artisans.
New to the festival this year is the highly anticipated Stag Beer Garden and Angostura Rum Experience, a vibrant gathering spot celebrating Trinidad and Tobago’s iconic beer and rum brands, an ideal place to: unwind, connect, and toast to island pride with friends and family. Festival Hours:
• Friday, September 5th — 5:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m.
• Saturday, September 6th — 1:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m.
• Sunday, September 7th — 1:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.
Admission is free. All are warmly invited to come to lime, eat, drink, and rejoice in 63 years of Trinidad and Tobago’s Independence through a truly unforgettable
weekend of culture and community celebration. Join us in honouring tradition and shaping futures, because the Trinbago Toronto Festival isn’t just a celebration, it’s a movement that uplifts the Caribbean spirit in the heart of Toronto and beyond
JN Money bridges continents: Groundbreaking expansion connects migrant families across 10 new nations
JN Money Services has launched an ambitious expansion into ten strategic markets, creating vital financial pathways for migrant communities worldwide. The remittance powerhouse now serves: Gambia, Nepal, Nicaragua, Ghana, Honduras, India, Kenya, Philippines, Senegal, and Uganda, dramatically expanding access to secure money transfer services.
“A significant number of migrants reside in the regions where JN Money operates,” explained Horace Hines, General Manager of JN Money Services. “By expanding to these countries, we are creating a convenient, trusted and secure channel for customers to send funds back home to their loved ones.”
This customer-driven expansion addresses the urgent needs of diaspora communities, enabling them to support family welfare and contribute to economic stability in their home countries. The initiative strengthens JN Money’s position as a trusted bridge between migrants and their families, even amid evolving global policy challenges.
Powered by a strategic partnership with MasterCard Transaction Services, the expansion allows seamless transfers from JN Money locations across the United Kingdom, United States, Canada, and Cayman Islands. Recipients can access funds through established physical partner outlets, ensuring reliability and accessibility.
Hines emphasized that while maintaining consistent security and reliability standards, JN Money will tailor customer engagement to reflect cultural nuances and market dynamics in each territory. “We are ensuring our communication resonates with each unique community,” he noted.
This expansion brings JN Money’s global footprint to 18 countries, cementing its industry leadership and supporting continued strong financial performance. The move follows recent US market strengthening efforts, includ-
ing a third Florida branch and planned expansion into additional states in 2025. The company’s strategic growth approach prioritizes market research, customer needs, and sustainable expansion strategies, ensuring migrants maintain secure, cost-effective channels for supporting their loved ones across borders.
Carson & Taylor make the CN Tower disappear!
Date: September 23rd – 27th
Location: The Second City Carson & Taylor will make the CN Tower disappear as they perform the illusion of the millennia with their magical and reality-defying comedy spectacle, Carson & Taylor Make the CN Tower Disappear. A thrilling and hilarious exploration of enchantment and mysticism, Carson & Taylor Make the CN Tower Disappear will be performed at The Second City September 23rd to 27th.
After winning back-to-back Audience Choice Awards at the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival, and being featured on Canada’s Got Talent… twice, Carson & Taylor return to the stage with a singular promise: to annihilate the limits of human perception. Watch as they perform mind-boggling feats of magic and mentalism and take their rightful place as titans of the world of magic.
David Copperfield made the Statue of Liberty vanish. Houdini escaped the inescapable. In September, Carson & Taylor will attempt what few have even dared to imagine, erasing an entire monument from the skyline.
Over the course of the past 25 years, Carson &Taylor have rigorously trained in the world of magic. Now having mastered the art of disappearing, re-appearing, knife throwing, dark wizardry, telekinesis, and mentalism, they are set to tackle their biggest illusion yet. Will they be able to pull off this tremendous feat of magical prowess? One thing is clear, Carson & Taylor Make the CN Tower Disappear.
“Incredibly original, incredibly funny, I loved them!” – Howie Mandel
Carson & Taylor Make the CN Tower Disappear
Starring Carson Pinch and Taylor Davis
Directed by Paul Bates
September 23rd-27th
The Second City, 1 York Street
SIMONE SMITH
simone@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
Let’s have an honest conversation about something that affects us all yet rarely gets discussed openly: women’s intimate health. As I sat down with experts from J3 Bioscience, creators of LivRing, I was struck by how many women navigate these changes alone, without the knowledge they deserve.
“Vaginal health is dynamic, just like the rest of your body,” they shared. “What works in your twenties may not work in your forties.” This is a truth about our journey as women. Our bodies are constantly evolving, yet we’re expected to understand these changes without guidance.
A woman’s guide to lifelong intimate health
PUBERTY: The first shift
I remember the confusion of those early years. As the experts explained, “Hormonal changes during puberty can throw the vaginal microbiome out of balance, but most teens have no idea what’s happening.” The statistic startled me; 1 in 4 girls experience yeast infections during this stage, often without knowing how to support their bodies.
Do:
• Add 200-400 mg of magnesium daily through leafy greens, nuts, or supplements
• Reach for “leftover” antibiotics every time you itch
• Mask odor with scented pads or daily liners
Pregnancy: When your body works overtime
During pregnancy, our bodies undergo pro -
found changes. I spoke with mothers who described feeling unprepared for how their intimate health would shift. The experts emphasized that small changes in routine can make significant differences.
Do:
• Practice three-minute perineal massage, 3×/week
• Incorporate Kegels into your workout routine
Don’t:
• Assume “any yogurt counts” for probiotics
• DIY with undiluted essential oils
Menopause: The hormone slowdown
Perhaps no stage is more misunderstood than menopause. As estrogen declines, many women feel isolated in their experiences. “We need to stop dismissing symptoms as ‘just aging,’” one expert insisted, her voice passionate.
Do:
• Choose longer-acting, hormone-free
vaginal moisturizers
• Add 1-2 tablespoons of flaxseeds to your diet
Don’t:
• Rely on short-acting drugstore lube
• Accept discomfort as inevitable
Moving forward together
As I reflected on these conversations, I realized something profound: we are discussing dignity, autonomy, and the right to understand our own bodies. This knowledge shouldn’t be privileged information, but shared wisdom.
The journey through women’s intimate health isn’t one we should walk alone. By sharing these insights, we are reclaiming our right to feel comfortable, informed, and empowered at every stage of life. What stage are you navigating right now?
What questions have you been afraid to ask?
The conversation starts here, with honesty, science, and the understanding that our bodies deserve our attention and respect.
What does Thomas J. Price’s Bronze Monument mean for Toronto?
PAUL JUNOR
paul@carib101.com
TC REPORTER
On Wednesday, July 30th, 2025, the crowd gathered outside the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) for a moment that felt historic. Eyes turned toward the towering bronze installation Moments Contained (2020), the newest work by internationally acclaimed British artist Thomas J. Price.
The 2.7-metre statue depicts a young Black woman in casual clothes, her hands in her pockets, her stance calm and
Shakura S’Aida performed alongside a gospel choir led by Kiara Picart, adding soul to the moment.
Price was born in London and trained at Chelsea College of Art and the Royal College of Art, where he still lives and works. His sculptures and installations have been exhibited across the globe, including:
• The Power Plant (Toronto)
• The National Portrait Gallery (London)
• Yorkshire Sculpture Park (West Bretton)
• Victoria and Albert Museum (London)
• Kunsthalle Krems (Austria)
• Kunsthal Rotterdam
Major galleries also hold his works, from the Brooklyn Museum and Studio Museum in New York to the National Gallery of Victoria in Australia and The Legacy Museum in Alabama.
In a past interview with curator Shehera Grot, Price explained that he deliberately avoids portraying specific individuals. Instead, he invents composite figures, imagined people who still feel deeply familiar. His goal: to shift how we understand monuments and who deserves to be re -
membered.
“Moments Contained indicates a moment, an opportunity for understanding, connection, and empathy,” Price has said. “It represents emotions and their recognition, even if the other person is nothing like you.”
The AGO extended the conversation beyond the unveiling. In Baillie Court, Price joined curator Dr. Julie Crooks for an intimate public dialogue. Billed as a rare opportunity to hear directly from one of today’s leading contemporary artists, the event delivered.
Price spoke candidly about his journey into the mainstream European gallery world. He described challenges, roadblocks, and systemic exclusion, but also persistence and breakthrough. The honesty of his reflections resonated. For many in attendance, his path mirrored the struggles faced by other Black creatives pushing against entrenched systems.
The installation of Moments Contained was made possible by a community of donors, including: the Chandaria Family, Tyrone and Life Edwards, the Gordon and Lorraine Gibson Family Foundation, Dr. Liza and Dr. Frederick Murrell, and several anon-
ymous families. Their commitment ensured this bold addition to Toronto’s public art landscape. For Dr. Crooks, who leads the AGO’s Department of Arts of Global Africa and the Diaspora, this moment represents a turning point. Under her leadership, the department is expected to bring more groundbreaking work and fresh voices to the forefront.
Public monuments shape how we see ourselves. For decades, bronze statues in major cities celebrated colonial leaders, military figures, and powerful men. Rarely did they honour women, let alone Black women in everyday poses of quiet strength.
By presenting an imagined young woman (neither celebrity, nor historical figure) Price invites us to confront absence in public memory. He asks us to see dignity in ordinary Black life. In doing so, Moments Contained reshapes who belong on our city streets and in our collective story.
This was an event that redefined: presence, representation, and empathy in Toronto’s cultural landscape, and it is only the beginning of what’s to come from the AGO’s growing commitment to voices that have too often been ignored.
Are EV Promises just modern-day Caesar schemes?
dollars have been funneled into corporations vowing to launch electric vehicle plants. The story repeats across Canada and many U.S. states. Politicians sign contracts that appear transformative, but the benefits rarely arrive. Instead, venture capitalists and corporate elites walk away richer while public coffers are drained.
The protection comes baked into the system. Privacy laws hide the agreements. Non-disclosure agreements keep the terms secret. Politicians craft legislation that shields both themselves and their allies, ensuring that even if deals collapse, accountability never follows. For taxpayers, it means no transparency and no recourse. Struggling towns and regions make easy targets. Leaders desperate for economic development invite these companies in, offering land, tax breaks, and incentives. Corporations demand vacant properties, often paying little, or no taxes in return. They insist on exclusive deals but deliver nothing tangible. When delays inevitably arise, excuses range from labour shortages to market volatility to supply-chain hiccups. Meanwhile, local hopes fade. Communities are
left with empty land, broken promises, and mounting distrust.
Consider the trail of “ghost plants” scattered across North America. Electric vehicle factories were pledged in Fort Valley, Pine Bluff, and Langston. Shiny press conferences were held. Politicians touted them as engines of growth. Yet not a single car has rolled off the line.
Some of these agreements extend for decades; 99-year deals in certain cases locking municipalities into obligations long before a factory is built. It’s bait and switch at its most damaging. The drive to announce “the next big thing” blinds officials to proper vetting. The result? Deals that enrich corporations while towns are left waiting, still without jobs, or investment.
Here lies the biggest danger; no legal framework exists to bind these corporate players to their promises. Nothing forces them to build. Nothing stops them from moving money offshore, and nothing compels them to repay the billions handed over when projects evaporate.
Without oversight, these so-called partnerships function more like financial pre -
dation. The politicians sign, the corporations collect, and the public shoulders the loss.
The parallels to Caesar are striking. Then, as now, leaders were seduced by visions of prosperity engineered by private financiers. Then, as now, ordinary people carried the burden when those promises failed.
The difference? Caesar at least reclaimed value by seizing assets. Our leaders instead hand over land, tax breaks, and cash while binding towns into decades-long agreements that forbid scrutiny.
Communities deserve better. Economic development can’t come from wishful thinking and headline-grabbing deals. It requires rigorous vetting, enforceable contracts, and transparency. Without those safeguards, taxpayers will keep funding castles in the air while corporations cash out.
Until this changes, every ribboncutting ceremony for a promised EV plant deserves skepticism, because if history teaches us anything, it’s this: when the powerful overpromise, the public pays the price.
ANYA NICOLA TORONTO CARIBBEAN NEWS
It’s been over a week since I wrote “And Another One,” a reflection on the devastating and all-too-familiar tragedy of gun violence in our community. That piece was written in the immediate aftermath of the news that an 8-yearold boy had been killed while sleeping in his bed beside his mother in North York.
Today, we are still waiting. Still hurting. Still searching for answers.
The police have urged the public to come forward with any information, but so far, no arrest has been made. The shooter (whoever you are) is still out there. I want to speak directly to you. Yes, you.
If you are reading this, if someone close to you is reading this, hear me clearly: The bravest thing you can do now is not run. Not hide. Do not pass blame or disappear into the shadows. The bravest thing you can do is take accountability.
If you’re really brave, turn yourself in!”
That sounds wild in a world that praises silence, street code, and staying strapped. I know that in the culture of hyper-masculinity and “no snitching,” what I’m asking feels impossible. Real bravery is not in pulling the trigger. Real bravery is in the aftermath, in the consequences, in the confession, in the change.
If you’re really the person some people think you are: a “bad man,” a “gangsta,” someone who commands respect, then do something that would actually earn it. Show this community, show that child’s mother, show yourself, that you are not so far gone that you don’t recognize the value of an innocent life, because I don’t want to believe that about you.
I want to believe you made a horrific mistake, a reckless choice. I want to believe that some part of you is shattered, too. If that’s true; if you are feeling even an ounce of remorse, then step forward.
Not just for justice; for healing. Now, to my community: I know we are angry. We have every right to be. How-
ever, we are also responsible for recognizing that accountability must be paired with compassion. As wild as it sounds, I am asking us not just to seek punishment, but to seek understanding.
We cannot bring that boy back. We cannot undo the damage, but we can ensure that whoever pulled the trigger gets the mental health support, the restorative justice process, and the community intervention that could make the difference between more violence or transformation.
We’ve talked for decades about the root causes of gun violence: poverty, disconnection, lack of opportunity, and intergenerational trauma. So, our response must be holistic if we genuinely believe in healing and community.
We can’t call for accountability without also offering a pathway forward. We can’t shout, “Enough is enough,” and then sit back and wait for the next “another one.”
This moment calls for courage from all of us.
Not just the shooter. Not just the family. Not just the police. But all of us.
The courage to come forward. The courage to forgive. The courage to speak the names and face the pain.
The courage to act.
To the readers of this newspaper, if you know something, say something. If you’re scared, reach out anonymously. If you feel helpless, organize. Create space for dialogue. Host healing circles. Uplift our youth. Join the conversation, and if you are the one responsible, know this; there are still people in this world who believe that you are more than your worst mistake, but belief means nothing without action. So do the bravest thing you’ve ever done; turn yourself in. Let the healing begin, and to all of us, let this be the moment we stop waiting for someone else to save us. Let’s be the change. Together.
Who do police really serve, the people, or the powerful?
STEVEN KASZAB
steven@carib101.com
TC COLUMNIST
Candidates must take orders without question, meet rigid body requirements, and prove themselves skilled shooters. Fluency in languages, or psychology may be valued, but only
as secondary traits. Advancement continues to favour men over women, particularly in the U.S., where female officers remain underrepresented in specialized units and leadership roles.
So, has the public gained a better relationship with police? In much of Latin America, the answer is no. Police forces are often viewed as political enforcers rather than protectors. In the Caribbean, many departments operate as para-military arms of political parties. In countries such as: Grenada, Jamaica, and Trinidad & Tobago, “To Serve and Protect” has come to mean serving business elites and shielding those in power.
The promises sparked by the Black Lives Matter movement have largely gone unfulfilled. Hiring a Black commissioner may create headlines, but it does not erase the fact that most officers are trained under the same militarized model, motivated by the same incentives, and shielded by the same systemic protections.
Policing has become less about public service and more about
career security. Officers enjoy high salaries, benefits, and pensions. Many retire early and move into private security, para-military contracting, or corporate protection. In Grenada, ex-officers often transition into politically connected financial institutions. In Canada, many join private security firms. In Mexico and South America, policing often merges directly with the military, leaving the public exposed to corruption, cartels, and political violence.
In countries like: El Salvador, Nicaragua, Brazil, and Haiti, gang warfare thrives, fueled by political and economic agendas. Ordinary citizens hide while their governments pour money into policing that defends wealth and power rather than protecting communities.
Americans worry about migration at their southern border, focusing only on higher taxes and border security costs. Yet the deeper crisis is global injustice. From Africa to Asia, from Latin America to North America, injustice anywhere continues to fuel
instability everywhere.
As Archbishop Desmond Tutu warned: “If you choose to be neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”
Police have not become the heroes society needs. Instead, they remain servants of privilege. When communities fear police, they also fear losing justice, equality, and accountability. True reform will come only when policing shifts from a warrior mindset to one of peacekeeping.
That means officers must focus more on victims than criminals, on prevention rather than punishment, and on building trust rather than enforcing power. When police approach their work as peacekeepers, society will attract recruits who want to serve with integrity. Only then will police and communities stand together, as us, instead of against each other in an endless us vs. them.
As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
ROY HAMILTON III
Carrying a Musical Legacy Forward The weight and wonder of inherited greatness
“I want to make it a large enough space, a philanthropic part of it. Teach children how to produce music.”
What does it mean to carry a legacy? Not just any legacy, but one that echoes through the halls of music history, touching generations of listeners and inspiring some of the world’s greatest artists?
This question sits at the heart of Roy Hamilton III’s journey, a man who moves through the music industry with the quiet confidence of someone who understands both the privilege and responsibility of his name.
There is something remarkable about watching Hamilton III work. He moves like still water, unhurried, deliberate, each gesture carrying weight and purpose. His presence fills a room through an almost gravitational quality that draws attention without demanding it. When he walks, his steps are measured, as if he’s considered each one before taking it. His hands, when they move, do so with the precision of someone who has learned that economy of motion often speaks louder than flourish.
The Hamilton legacy begins with his grandfather, Roy Hamilton Sr., an iconic American singer known for blending semi-classical technique with gospel feeling. In the 1950s and 1960s, Hamilton Sr. achieved major commercial success with songs like “Unchained Melody” and “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” influencing artists including Elvis Presley and establishing himself as one of the most powerful voices of his time. This was a revolution in sound, a bridge between genres that hadn’t previously spoken to one another.
Roy Hamilton III was born in Queens, New York, already connected to this rich musical heritage. “I remember being between five and eight years old, at a nightclub, dinner club,” Hamilton III recalls, his voice softening with memo -
ry. “We were in the back with the video games. My family was all there. My mom, dad, and grandma opened a performance club. I can clearly remember playing Pac-Man. The other memories are related to playing their record and cassette collection. Elvis Presley, Third World.”
The weight of this legacy could have crushed a lesser person. The expectations, the comparisons, the constant measuring against a giant, these are burdens that many children of famous artists struggle with throughout their lives. Hamilton III seems to have absorbed this inheritance differently, transforming it into fuel rather than letting it become a weight that holds him back.
His father, Roy Hamilton Jr., also a talented vocalist, carried forward the family legacy, establishing the Roy Hamilton School of Voice and serving as an advisor to The Singer’s Company, owned by Roy III. This intergenerational commitment to artistic mentorship created a foundation for Hamilton III’s approach to music as an art form, and as a responsibility to nurture and develop others.
Growing up between Jamaican and American cultures added another layer to his musical identity. “People tell me they hear Caribbean influences in my music,” he explains. “I grew up with reggae music. I also heard gospel, soul, hip hop. I grew up with curry goat, oxtail rice, and peas. I am now starting to connect more to my Caribbean roots, and being in Canada is allowing me to do so.”
This cultural duality has shaped his approach to music, creating a sound that respects tradition while embracing innovation. It’s a delicate balance that many artists strive for, but few achieve so seamlessly.
The defining moment came early in his life. “I remember the first time that I went into the studio with my dad,
sitting down, watching the engineers,” he recalls, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “It was a WoW! There was so much equipment, and they knew how to use all of this. I told my dad, ‘I want to do what these guys are doing.’”
That childhood wonder has translated into an impressive career. As a multi-Platinum and Grammy-nominated producer and songwriter, Hamilton III has helped sell over 70 million albums worldwide for artists like: Michael Jackson, Britney Spears, Justin Bieber, and Ariana Grande, as well as for major labels including: Capitol Records, RCA Records, and Universal Music Group.
His awards tell the story of his success: BMI Song Of The Year (2001), Billboard Song of the Year (2010), Gospel Music Award Song Of The Year (2018), and SOCAN Songwriter Award (2018), among others, but these accolades only capture part of his impact.
As Director of A&R at The Singer’s Company Inc., Hamilton works with a USA/Canada-based record label, helping artists develop their careers internationally. His radio/podcast “Let That Music Out!” is syndicated on both US and Canadian radio stations, providing an international platform and guidance for emerging artists.
Perhaps his most important work is his mentorship. “This experience with the singer’s company has given me the opportunity to work with very different singers,” he says. “The company is for the singers. I only challenge them. I think that it can be of help.”
When asked about the biggest risk he’s taken in his career, he doesn’t hesitate. “This entrepreneurial journey,” he says. “The success stories and the artist’s lives that have changed. It is giving something to the world. Sometimes I start at 9:00 am, and I don’t leave the studio until late in the evening, and if I want to be really creative, I get up really early till whenever. I just work. I feel like
I have more to give.” This commitment to giving back is perhaps the truest expression of his legacy. It’s one thing to inherit talent and success; it’s another entirely to use that inheritance to create opportunities for others.
Now, Hamilton III is looking toward the future, particularly his vision for a studio in Montego Bay. “I want to make it a large enough space, teach children how to produce music. It would be a day trip, and children can participate in workshops.” This vision encapsulates everything that makes Hamilton III special, creating new pathways for future generations to discover their own musical voices.
“What I am doing right now,” he reflects. “I want to be part of a place where singers can go and do their thing, be creative. I just want to keep doing this. “
In these words, we hear the echo of his grandfather’s passion, filtered through his father’s dedication, and transformed into something entirely new, something that honours the past while building the future.
The question remains; can musical legacy shape future generations? In Roy Hamilton III, we have our answer; not just in the music he creates, but in the musicians he mentors, the communities he builds, and the paths he opens for those who will follow.
Written by Sean Seurattan Toronto Caribbean News
Photo Credit: Sanj P Photography
Alimi A. Banjoko
How do you tell if the products and services being offered to you are worth your attention?
There’s no harm in being gullible when the stakes are low, or when you are having fun. Being open to the incredulous is part of being a curious person, and playing along with a friend’s tall tale strengthens your connection while giving you both a good laugh, but in matters of your health, you don’t want to be so open-minded about cure-anything remedies that your brains fall out.
Clark Stanley was the self-proclaimed “Rattle Snake King” of the 1880s. He held live demonstrations in which he killed snakes in front of his audiences, then hawked bottles of snake oil with the
promise to cure rheumatism, gout, headache, toothache, sore throat, indigestion, frostbite, partial paralysis, and his list goes on. He was finally charged as a fraudster in 1916 and fined a laughable $20, but for decades, a lot of people believed him.
Nowadays, con artists have a lot more tools for trickery, most notably a far more powerful marketing machinery, but their motive is the same: to get rich at your expense. So, how do you tell if the products and services being offered to you are worth your attention?
First, figure out who is doing the talking and what’s their motivation. Are you dealing with a product promoter, or with a health advocate respected by experts? Does someone credible answer your questions when you ask?
Second, look at the evidence yourself. If a product is backed by a single study with a dozen participants, or if a company doesn’t have any independent research to back their product claims, then be extra cautious.
Third, think about whether the
product makes biological sense. If a product claims to detox your body, ask what toxins it removes, where they go, and how it’s different from the work your liver and kidneys already do all day long for free.
The intent here is not to suggest you need to scrutinize every detail of the health remedies on the market. That’s what food and drug regulatory bodies do. Rather, just run your purchases through a mental sieve. If a product fails on points one, two or three, then pause. You need to do more investigation before spending your money.
Here’s another thing. Don’t fall victim to the opposite problem. There are plenty of doctor-approved drugs, also prominently okayed by top health regulatory authorities, that may be effective, but they may not be the right choice. Why? There is a natural alternative that does the same job, but without the side-effects of pharmaceutical products. A perfect example is mild insomnia. Many people reach for prescription sleeping pills (like zolpidem/Ambien), or over-the-counter seda-
tives (like diphenhydramine/ Benadryl) to “knock themselves out,” when research shows non-drug approaches can work better, last longer, and avoid side effects.
Another example is chronic lower back pain. How grateful we are for ibuprofen, or other painkilling pills to ease the pain. Yet, strengthening core muscles and working on improved flexibility may resolve the problem, and the daily exercise will have so many other benefits for general health too.
The truth is, there are plenty of genuine health remedies that aren’t glamorous. They’re the boring, unprofitable things like moving your body daily, eating a variety of foods, sleeping enough, and building strong social connections. No influencer gets rich from telling you to take a walk with a friend.
The key to all this? Your own thoughtfulness.
Next time you see a health claim that sounds too good to be true, think of the snake oil salesman. The packaging has changed. Human gullibility hasn’t.
Jamaican Mannish Water: More Than a Soup, It’s a Cultural Experience
Food is never just food in the Caribbean. Every dish tells a story, carrying with it history, resilience, and community. In Jamaica, there are many meals that rise above being just a part of dinner and instead become part of the culture itself. One of those is Mannish Water—a dish with a reputation so strong that its very name sparks curiosity.
and festive gatherings. A large pot of Mannish Water, bubbling over an open fire, could feed dozens. It wasn’t just a meal; it was a ritual.
Cultural Significance: Soup for Strength, Soup for Celebration
The broth itself is what makes Mannish Water stand out. Unlike thicker goat stews, it’s meant to be light, almost clear, but bursting with flavour. Seasoned with thyme, scallions, garlic, and peppers, it strikes a balance between spicy, savoury, and earthy.
about 20–30 minutes.
• Adjust Flavour – Season with salt and black pepper to taste. The broth should be light but flavourful, with a peppery kick.
If you attend a Jamaican wedding, there’s a good chance you’ll find Mannish Water being served. Traditionally, it’s handed out to guests to keep them energized throughout the festivities. At dances and late-night parties, it’s often the dish that shows up just when the night begins to wear people down. Served hot, spicy, and restorative, it keeps the celebration alive.
In Jamaican restaurants abroad, chefs sometimes make substitutions. Lamb is occasionally used when goat is harder to find. Other chefs tone down the spice for non-Caribbean diners, while some lean in and make it even hotter, keeping the tradition alive.
This isn’t your typical soup. Mannish Water is a broth born from rural ingenuity, cultural pride, and the kind of social gathering that defines Jamaican life. Traditionally made from goat head, feet, and sometimes even the testicles, it is considered a “man’s soup,” a legendary aphrodisiac, and a restorative tonic for energy and strength. But to call it simply that would be to undersell it. Mannish Water is a dish tied to family, to weddings, to celebrations, and to the long tradition of making something incredible out of humble ingredients.
Let’s take a deep dive into where this iconic dish came from, why it’s more than just a soup, how it has been modernized, and of course, how to make it yourself.
The Origins of Mannish Water
The roots of Mannish Water lie in Jamaica’s goat farming communities, where resourcefulness was a way of life. Nothing went to waste. When a goat was slaughtered, the prime cuts went toward curries and stews, but the head, feet, and “less desirable” parts often became the base for soups. What started as necessity evolved into one of the most celebrated culinary traditions on the island.
Goat farming has long been important in Jamaica. Goats thrive in the island’s terrain and climate, and their meat is both flavourful and versatile. From the iconic curry goat to stews and soups, goat meat is tied closely to Jamaican identity. Mannish Water, in particular, demonstrates the nose-to-tail approach rooted in African culinary traditions brought over during the colonial era. Just as in West African cooking where every part of an animal was valued, Jamaicans developed recipes that honoured that same principle.
The name “Mannish Water” itself is steeped in legend. Some say it was coined because of the soup’s reputation for boosting virility, making it a kind of natural aphrodisiac. Others claim the “mannish” part refers to the boldness of the ingredients—the strong goat flavour, the fiery Scotch bonnet peppers, and the fact that it was never considered a dish for the timid. Whatever the origin of the name, its reputation spread quickly across the island.
By the mid-20th century, Mannish Water had cemented its place as a social dish. It was no longer just something rural families threw together. It became a staple at weddings, community dances, wakes,
It’s not just about stamina, though. Mannish Water symbolizes masculinity, vitality, and fertility. In Jamaica, where oral traditions and storytelling play a central role in culture, the soup’s reputation was passed down through generations. “A bowl of Mannish Water will put hair on your chest,” some would say. Others swore it had the power to rejuvenate the body after long days of work or nights of partying.
What makes it so significant is the way it’s prepared. Cooking Mannish Water is often a communal effort. The goat head and feet are meticulously cleaned—often outdoors with lime, vinegar, and scrubbing to remove any trace of muskiness. Once prepped, the ingredients go into a large pot over a wood fire, and everyone nearby contributes in some way. Someone brings green bananas, another adds yams or dumplings, and someone else provides the rum to sip on while the soup cooks. By the time it’s ready, the soup carries not just flavour but the energy of everyone involved.
Even outside of weddings and parties, Mannish Water has remained a comfort food and a cultural anchor. For Jamaicans abroad—in Toronto, London, New York—finding Mannish Water on a restaurant menu is a direct connection back to the island, a taste of home that goes beyond nostalgia.
How Mannish Water Has Evolved
Like most traditional dishes, Mannish Water has adapted over time. In rural Jamaica, it’s still common to see it made the old way—goat head split open with a machete, cleaned thoroughly, and boiled until tender. In cities and diaspora communities, modern versions sometimes use more accessible cuts of goat meat, like neck or shoulder, instead of the head and feet.
Scotch bonnet peppers remain essential, bringing heat and that unmistakable Jamaican flavour. Ground provisions such as yam, dasheen, and green bananas often go in, giving the soup body. Spinners—small flour dumplings—are another common addition, turning the broth into something that’s both hearty and filling.
The Recipe: How to Make Mannish Water Here’s how you can prepare this legendary soup at home. This recipe stays true to tradition but offers a few adaptations for practicality.
Ingredients:
• 2–3 lbs goat head and feet (or substitute with goat neck/shoulder if needed)
• 2 limes (for cleaning the meat)
• 2 tbsp white vinegar
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 4–5 scallions, chopped
• 4–6 pimento (allspice) berries, crushed
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 Scotch bonnet peppers (use 1 if you want less heat)
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2–3 green bananas, peeled and cut into chunks
• 1 medium yam, peeled and cubed
• 1 piece dasheen or coco (if available), peeled and cubed
• 2 Irish potatoes, cubed
• 1–2 carrots, sliced
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• Water (enough to cover the meat and provisions, about 12 cups)
• Optional: a handful of flour dumplings (spinners)
Preparation Method:
• Clean the Meat – Wash goat head/feet thoroughly with lime and vinegar. This step is essential to remove any strong odours. Rinse well.
• Boil the Meat – Place goat pieces in a large pot. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until the meat becomes tender (about 1.5–2 hours). Skim foam from the surface as needed.
• Add Seasonings – Once the meat is tender, add onion, scallions, garlic, thyme, pimento, and Scotch bonnet. Simmer another 30 minutes so the flavours infuse.
• Add Provisions – Add yam, green bananas, potatoes, dasheen, and carrots. Cook until vegetables are tender,
• Add Dumplings (Optional) – If making spinners, roll small pieces of dough into finger-shaped dumplings and drop them into the pot in the last 15 minutes.
• Serve Hot – Ladle into bowls and serve piping hot. Traditionally, it’s enjoyed with a shot of white rum on the side.
Mannish Water Today: A Dish That Travels With the People
The beauty of Mannish Water is that it’s more than just something you eat—it’s something you experience. In Jamaica, the smell of a pot bubbling on the fire means something’s happening: a wedding, a dance, a gathering. It means people are coming together.
In the diaspora, Mannish Water carries the same weight. At Caribbean restaurants in Toronto, you’ll see Jamaicans ordering it to reconnect with their roots, or younger generations trying it for the first time after hearing stories from their parents or grandparents. It’s a bridge between the island and wherever Jamaicans call home today.
And while the reputation as an aphrodisiac still lingers—joked about at parties and dances—it has become equally about comfort. For some, it’s the perfect cure for a hangover. For others, it’s the dish that instantly makes them feel back in their grandmother’s kitchen.
Closing Reflections
When you break it down, Mannish Water is just soup. But to Jamaicans, it’s something far greater. It’s resilience in a pot, the ability to take what others might throw away and turn it into something worth celebrating. It’s community, where everyone has a role to play in the preparation and everyone gathers to share it. It’s history, a direct line back to African traditions of valuing the whole animal and celebrating food as life. In every bowl of Mannish Water, there’s a little bit of Jamaica’s soul. Strong, spicy, communal, and unforgettable. Whether you try it at a roadside stand in Kingston or cook it in your own kitchen, one thing’s for sure—you’ll walk away understanding why this dish has stood the test of time.
So the next time you hear someone talk about Mannish Water, know this: it’s not just a recipe. It’s Jamaica in liquid form—culture, history, and strength boiled down into a single pot.
The war in Ukraine is a shiny distraction, the circus that keeps their people from asking why
BY HERBERT HILDEBRANDT POLITICAL PARLEY
War is the ultimate human tragedy, and yet it has become the favorite political distraction for Western elites. The Russia–Ukraine war and the Western narrative surrounding it is no longer about borders, sovereignty, or even democracy. It is all about optics and the careers of failing European leaders who desperately need something to point at while their own nations crumble.
Let us get one thing straight: for all his flaws, Vladimir Putin is a leader, and by definition, a leader is one who commands the loyalty and respect of his people and wields power effectively. Like it or not, Putin is wildly popular inside Russia. In fact, his approval ratings soar to heights that Western politicians could only dream about while fumbling through their own administrations. Isn’t that the supposed point of democracy, to reflect the will of the people? Or does democracy only count when the voters pick someone Brussels, or Washington approves of?
Meanwhile, Volodymyr Zelensky has suspended elections, canceled dissent,
and declared himself Ukraine’s permanent wartime president. Translation: dictator, but he still gets paraded around Western capitals like some Churchill-in-a-hoodie. The reality? Over 90% of the people in Ukraine’s eastern regions voted to join Russia. Does their will not matter? Or are some votes sacred while others get erased because they don’t fit NATO’s script?
The outrage over the Trump and Putin summit in Alaska is laughable. Two of the most powerful leaders on earth talking is not a threat to peace. It is the only possible path towards peace. Yet our media treats it as heresy. Why? Peace isn’t the goal. Perpetual war is the goal. Bankers love it and bureaucrats need it and Western politicians cling to it, because without war, their citizens might start demanding real leadership at home.
Here’s the hard truth: the Russia–Ukraine war is a human meat grinder of young men. Ukraine, a relatively small country by global standards, has already lost more than twice the young men in a few years than the United States lost in all of World War II. That’s not victory, that’s annihilation of a future generation, and Zelensky’s shtick as a
wartime president turned tinpot dictator is wearing thin. Maybe it’s time for him to return to his old day job of playing dress-up on stage and TV.
This war must end. Not next year, not after another half-million young men are buried, but now. Every day it drags on is another day sacrificed on the altar of NATO lies. Since 1991, NATO has broken every significant promise it made to Russia on territory. Every inch eastward, every base, every missile battery was a betrayal, and now, we act surprised when Russia reacts. Spare me the faux outrage.
Western Europe’s leaders are predominantly weak men. They are caretakers of failing states, presiding over financial collapse, social unraveling, and engineered demographic decline. The war in Ukraine is their shiny distraction, the circus that keeps their people from asking why their own nations are falling apart. Distractions don’t pay the bills, and sooner or later, the mob will notice.
Bankers’ wars only ever help bankers. They don’t help the working-class families watching their sons shipped off to die.
They don’t help the people freezing in their homes while energy prices skyrocket. They don’t help the Ukrainian, or Russian mothers burying their children. They are a boon to the military industrial complex that Eisenhower warned against, however. Follow the money, again and again. It will lead you to the truth. I don’t carry water for Russia, and I don’t excuse Putin’s brutality, in whatever form it is enacted on his people, but I know this: war is hell. War is hellish politics by violent means, and right now the politics of war are being weaponized against the very people Western leaders claim to serve. Enough is enough. It’s time to end this war now, follow the will of the people in Ukraine, send Zelensky back to the theater, and demand real leadership before Europe’s nations collapse beyond repair.
History will not remember the speeches, the hashtags, or the NATO press releases. It will remember the graves, and when the smoke clears, the names of the politicians who prolonged this slaughter will be cursed, not celebrated. The politics of war are nothing, but a mask for cowardice, and the leaders who hide behind it deserve to be exposed.
Elderly Canadians and Caribbeans face rising threats from within their own families
BY LISA THOMPSON LEGAL LISA
After forty years of service with the CRA in Ottawa, Mr. Winter looked forward to a peaceful retirement. His finances were secure, his home paid off, and his investment funds and life insurance provided ample protection. Yet, at age eighty, when his diabetes worsened unexpectedly, his siblings (his only known beneficiaries) found their rights quickly undermined. Mr. Winter’s 49-year-old nephew appointed himself Executor and coerced his elderly relatives into signing away the bulk of his estate. In the end, only 40% of Mr. Winter’s assets reached his siblings, while the majority lined the nephew’s pockets and upgraded his lifestyle.
Mrs. Johnson’s experience echoes with similar distress. As she reached her late eighties, her health declined, and she depended increasingly on her youngest son for daily living. Trusted with her Power of Attorney, he gradually began to move funds and
transfer her property without her full understanding. By the time Mrs. Johnson’s grandchildren realized what had happened, much of her retirement savings had vanished, leaving her vulnerable and dependent.
Miss Brown, who nearly reached 109 years (a testament to endurance) lost 11 acres of Jamaican land to her great-grandson. He discovered missed tax payments and leveraged a legal process called adverse possession to claim ownership. “I always thought family would honour my wishes, but the law allowed otherwise,” Miss Brown sighed, reflecting on her loss.
Understanding financial abuse and legal recourse
Financial abuse is the most common form of elder abuse in Canada, frequently perpetrated by trusted family members. It may involve overt acts such as: cashing pension cheques, or subtle misappropriation, such as transferring property, or taking involuntary gifts. The misuse of authority granted by the Power of
Attorney is a common avenue for abuse, enabling the wrongful appropriation of financial assets.
Victims often face shared living arrangements, dependency on their abusers, and limited social support, factors that amplify risk. In Caribbean societies, inheritance disputes and cultural norms can compound the vulnerability of seniors. Allegations of witchcraft and complex family structures create unique challenges in protecting older women.
Legal protections and steps forward
Although the Criminal Code does not specifically address elder financial abuse, it classifies related acts under theft and fraud. Courts are required to consider the victim’s age and vulnerability as aggravating factors in sentencing. The “Protecting Canada’s Seniors Act” and amendments to the Digital Privacy Act empower financial institutions to report suspected abuse to authorities, sometimes even without the victim’s consent.
Upon discovery of financial abuse, victims, or their advocates may seek assistance from the Elder Abuse unit of local police, pursue civil litigation to remove a Power of Attorney, demand repayment, or accounting of assets, or investigate criminal charges. Conviction in criminal court requires proof beyond reasonable doubt, but civil measures can offer relief and restitution.
A coordinated response is essential Protecting seniors demands a coordinated approach. Legal professionals, social workers, financial institutions, and cultural leaders must collaborate to ensure older adults’ rights and dignity are respected.
Miss Brown’s words linger as a reminder: “Family should be protection, not risk.” As the population ages, communities must stand vigilant and compassionate, balancing legal rigor with empathy, to prevent financial exploitation and restore justice to those who built our societies.
The call is clear: Don’t wait for someone else to act; find your voice
BY GEORGE SHEPPARD
“Never ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.”
John Lewis
The phrase “good trouble” captures a truth we often forget: some moments demand disruption. Polite disagreement and quiet diplomacy have their place, but there are times when they fall short, when injustice is so deeply embedded that only bold, visible, and unapologetic action can challenge it.
Good trouble is not trouble for its own sake. It is principled disruption with a moral compass, aimed at confronting systems that: harm, exclude, or oppress. It is loud enough to be heard, firm enough to be felt, and persistent enough to make those in power take notice.
At its core, good trouble is about refusing to let wrongs pass unchallenged. Many people, especially those who face discrimination, or economic vulnerability, do not have the same freedom to speak up without risking their: safety, livelihood, or community
ties. That’s why those with greater security, privilege, or visibility have a responsibility to use their voices; not to speak over others, but to stand with them.
“Right is right. Wrong is always wrong.” Good trouble is not an excuse for: chaos, vandalism, or destruction. It is not about creating disorder for its own sake. The difference lies in intent: anarchy seeks to dismantle without vision, or structure; good trouble seeks to confront injustice and replace it with fairness, equity, and compassion. It requires discipline, focus, and a clear sense of purpose.
History is full of examples where silence allowed injustice to deepen. When people decide not to “get involved,” the result is that harmful systems remain unchallenged, discrimination becomes normalized, and cruelty takes root. Good trouble disrupts that pattern. It breaks the cycle of indifference by forcing issues into the light.
Sometimes good trouble looks like public protest. Other times, it’s a private conversation that challenges harmful language, or prejudice. It can be confronting an unfair
workplace policy, organizing to demand better conditions, or simply refusing to let someone’s dignity be diminished in your presence. The scale doesn’t matter as much as the principle behind it.
“It’s not just about speaking for people but making sure they can speak for themselves.”
One of the most vital forms of good trouble is amplifying marginalized voices. People who have been excluded from power often lack safe platforms to speak for themselves. That’s not because they lack: ideas, strength, or courage, but because systems are built to silence them. Good trouble means helping to dismantle those barriers. Sometimes that means sharing your platform, sometimes it means listening deeply, and sometimes it means refusing to allow powerful spaces to remain exclusive.
Anyone can engage in good trouble. You don’t need to be a career activist, a public figure, or a charismatic leader. It could be an artist creating work that challenges stereotypes, a teacher ensuring diverse voices are included in the curriculum, a voter
holding leaders accountable, or a neighbour standing up against discrimination in the community. Good trouble can happen with placards in the street, or at a kitchen table; what matters is that it’s rooted in justice.
The path of good trouble is rarely comfortable. It can mean criticism, personal sacrifice, or social isolation. It may require breaking from tradition, questioning authority, or defying public opinion. The alternative, staying silent while wrong persists, is far worse.
Every generation faces a choice: to leave things as they are, or to push for what they should be. Good trouble is not about tearing down for the sake of destruction; it is about breaking barriers that should never have existed in the first place.
The call is clear: don’t wait for someone else to act. Find your voice. Use it. Make noise where silence has been the norm, because without good trouble, justice remains only a dream.
Can we heal from centuries of collective trauma?
I watched it unfold again last week. I had to deal with a personal situation where someone had disregarded my emotions, my thoughts, the way I feel. After doing so, they expected ME to apologize to them. Their passive aggressiveness was real, and they could not even see it. Instead, they became the victim, and I was left spiraling.
This is Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome (PTSS) manifesting in real time, in real people, in our real communities.
Dr. Joy DeGruy gave us language for what we have felt in our bones for generations; Post Traumatic Stress/Slave Syndrome, the enduring psychological impact of slavery that continues to ripple through African Caribbean communities today. It’s not just about what happened centuries ago; those wounds never properly healed. They have been passed down like family heirlooms we never wanted.
When I sit with community members, friends, and acquaintances, they share their stories, and I see the patterns clearly: the hypervigilance that keeps our shoulders perpetually tense, the vacant esteem that whispers we are not enough, the propensity for anger that erupts when we feel threatened. These are survival mechanisms our ancestors developed to navigate a world that saw them as less than human.
Have you ever wondered why trust comes so hard in our communities? Why we sometimes build walls so high, even we can’t see over them? Why the simplest disagreement can trigger a response that feels disproportionate to the moment? These are echoes of survival strategies that once kept our ancestors alive.
I have seen PTSS manifest in the vacant esteem that makes brilliant, beautiful friends question their worth. I have witnessed it in the anger that simmers beneath the surface, erupting at unexpected moments. I have felt it in the racist socialization that makes us sometimes turn against ourselves and each other. These are collective wounds.
The research confirms what we have experienced firsthand. African/Caribbean communities show distinct patterns of trauma response compared to other populations. Our trauma exposure differs: more environmental toxins, spousal abuse, and for Caribbean immigrants, the additional layers of migration and displacement. Our symptoms manifest uniquely: more unpleasant dreams, memory gaps, and generational differences in how we seek help.
What breaks my heart is how often these trauma responses get misdiagnosed as personality disorders. The hypervigilance that once protected our ancestors from violence gets labeled as paranoia. The emotional dysregulation that developed in response to constant threat gets called borderline. The mistrust that kept our people safe gets diagnosed as antisocial.
At times, I feel that as a community we are broken. Then I rationalize; we are responding to centuries of collective trauma. Here is what gives me hope: recognition is the first step toward healing. When we un-
derstand that our struggles are not solely individual, but part of a larger pattern, we can begin to address the root causes. We can stop asking “What’s wrong with me?” and start asking “What happened to us?”
Healing begins with acknowledgment: of our history, of our pain, of our resilience. It continues with education, learning about PTSS and how it manifests in our lives. It requires culturally competent therapy that understands them in context. It demands community support systems that remind us we are not alone. Most importantly, healing requires us to address the systemic racism that continues to inflict new wounds while keeping old ones open. We cannot heal in the same environments that make us sick.
I have seen transformation happen when people understand their behaviours through the lens of PTSS. Suddenly, there is
compassion where there was self-judgment. There is understanding where there was confusion. There is hope where there was despair.
This is not an excuse to stay stuck in victimhood. It’s about honouring our survival by breaking cycles that no longer serve us. It’s about recognizing our resilience while acknowledging our wounds. It’s about understanding that healing is intergenerational. When we heal ourselves, we heal generations past and future. We honour the ancestors who survived unimaginable horrors by creating new possibilities for those who come after us. We transform pain into power, trauma into triumph.
What would it look like to heal from centuries of collective trauma? To break free from patterns that no longer serve us? To create new narratives rooted in thriving?
The architecture of happiness: Five pillars of a flourishing life
DANIEL COLE
daniel@carib101.com
PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT
There is no universal key to happiness; happiness is based on specific individual values. It’s a byproduct, not a goal to be pursued. However, there are certain factors or ingredients that largely influence, or contribute to our happiness, or the lack of it. When your experiences and your realities are consistent with your goals and expectations, and you are content with your situation, you feel happy. If, on the other hand, for any reason, your current situation is different from what you really want and expect, you will be discontented and unhappy.
A true and sustained happiness is not just a euphoric feeling that comes as a result of meeting specific goals; the realities
and events that brought you happiness and joy today may no longer be your reality tomorrow. For example, a person who is laid off from work, a loved one passing away, it is the ability to embrace the uncertainties and unpredictabilities of life and to look for the silver lining in certain situations, that is the hallmark of a happy life.
Here are the five ingredients that contribute to our happiness.
Good health
This is perhaps the most important element of a good life. We strive for it all our lives. It is only when you enjoy high levels of painfree health and a continuous flow of energy that you feel truly happy. In many cases, health is a “deficiency need.” This means that we often don’t think about our health until we are deprived of it. For example, we often don’t think about our dental care until we have a toothache. Staying healthy is a necessity to staying happy. Take good care of your health.
Happy relationships
Fully 85% of your happiness, or the lack of it will come from your relationships with oth-
er people. We are designed to function in society, working and living with other people at every stage of our lives. Your ability to keep and maintain high-quality relationships with your: spouse, children, friends, colleagues, and others is the true measure of the quality of your personality and your level of mental health. People with high levels of self-esteem and self-respect get along better with others and have much happier lives.
Meaningful and purposeful work
To be truly happy, you must be fully engaged with life. You must be doing something that gives you a sense of fulfillment and contribution. If you are making a living, you must be doing work that you enjoy, do well, and for which you are well paid. People are truly happy only when they feel they are making a contribution of some kind, that they are putting in more than they are taking out.
Financial independence
Some of the greatest fears we experience are those of loss, failure, and poverty. We
fear being destitute, without funds, and dependent on others. One of your chief responsibilities to yourself is to work toward financial independence and financial freedom throughout your life. The happiest of all people are those who have reached the point at which they no longer worry about money. This is not something you can leave to chance, but rather something that requires deliberate, purposeful action and tremendous self-discipline to achieve.
Self-actualization
This is the feeling that you are becoming everything you are capable of becoming. This occurs when you feel that you are realizing more and more of your true potential. Abraham Maslow is best known for his Hierarchy of Needs. He determined that people have both “deficiency needs” and “being needs.” People strive either to compensate for their deficiency, or to realize their potential. He concluded that you begin to evolve and develop to the highest levels possible for you only when your deficiency needs are first satisfied. Happiness comes when you have a sense of actualization.
Instant Gratification Breeds Bad Habits and Eventual Failure
BY GRANT BROWNING DRIVEN TO SUCCEED
We live in a now society. Everything is about speed, convenience, and getting what we want in the shortest amount of time possible. Just look at the Tim Hortons drive-thru—cars lined up every morning, every afternoon, every night. Why? Because we’ve been trained that you can pull up, give your order, and before you even finish the thought—poof!—your coffee and bagel are ready at the window. It’s a perfect example of instant gratification, and it’s a habit that’s spread far beyond our morning coffee.
The problem is, when we get too accustomed to things happening instantly, we start expecting the same in other parts of life—especially in business. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen people place an ad once and then complain when no calls come in. “I paid for it, shouldn’t the phone be ringing?” Or someone posts a video on social media and expects it to go viral overnight. When it gets ten views and two likes, suddenly they throw their hands up and say, “I knew it wouldn’t work.” That kind of mindset is dangerous because it kills momentum before it even begins.
Just like many other viral social media challenges, the Nicki Minaj Stiletto Challenge is another that has its share of controversy. The viral challenge consists of people performing an extraordinary and challenging pose, such as the one Minaj did in the music video for her 2013 track “High School.” In the music video, Minaj
Marketing and Branding Take Time
The truth is, building a brand, growing a business, and making an impact all take time. Marketing isn’t magic. It’s consistency. It’s showing up over and over again until people start to recognize you. Humans are creatures of habit. We don’t respond the first time we see something. We respond after repeated exposure—when we see it again and again until it sticks in our minds. That’s how trust is built, and that’s how momentum is created.
I laugh when I think back to the early days of TCN TV. We built our second version of the studio—huge video wall, multiple cameras, everything you’d expect from a high-end network. We poured money, sweat, and endless hours into that build. When it launched, I told the team, “With this studio, we’ll interview some of the biggest names in the world.” They all looked at me like I had finally lost it, probably assuming I was sleep-deprived from working sixteen-hour days for two months straight.
But I believed it. And sure enough, we landed those big names. What I didn’t expect, of course, was the world to turn upside down—lockdowns, chaos, and Covid. At that time, our live streams were pulling steady numbers, YouTube subscribers
poses by a poolside with one leg over the other while wearing high heels in one scene, maintaining a strong balance.
Twelve years later, the pose resurfaced on social media with many users opting to take their spin on the pose. There are clips showing people doing the challenge with one leg on the ground, while there are clips of others who have taken it to the extreme by doing the challenge: on top of weights, counters, mailboxes, cans, railings, bricks, and in some cases, while carrying a small child in their arms.
Each time I see a video of the challenge being taken to the extreme, I can’t help but get nervous for those doing the challenge, as anything can go wrong with even just one slight movement. Seeing behind-the-scenes clips of people doing the challenge surely validates my feelings
were climbing, and things were starting to click. Then the pandemic hit and we faced a choice: pivot or shut down.
The Pivot That Changed Everything
We chose to pivot. Instead of giving up, we leaned into our mission—being a voice for the voiceless. We reached out across the world to people who were being silenced by mainstream media, and we gave them a platform to tell their stories. We asked tough questions and let viewers decide for themselves.
That move changed everything. Yes, YouTube tried to cut us down—censorship warnings, threats of bans—but we built our own independent stream. And that’s when the explosion happened. Millions of viewers tuned in live. It was surreal, and it wouldn’t have happened if we had folded at the first sign of resistance. Imagine if we stopped after those early struggles, or if we gave up because success didn’t come instantly?
Old School Thinking Wins Every Time
That’s why I tell this story. Because there’s an important lesson in it: instant gratification doesn’t build anything that lasts. Success comes from patience, consistency, and having the guts to push through when re -
of nervousness.
A recent incident involving the challenge now serves as a cautionary tale to anyone considering partaking in the challenge themselves and has led to doctors warning people about taking the challenge to the extreme.
Russian influencer Mariana Barutkina broke her spine attempting to do the stiletto challenge. In the viral video, Barutkina is seen attempting to do the pose on a saucepan and a canister of baby formula stacked on top of a kitchen counter before falling backwards after managing to maintain her balance for a few minutes. Thankfully, Barutkina only suffered a minor back fracture.
What also stands out about this viral challenge is that humans aren’t the only ones doing it; people also have their pets
sults don’t show up right away. It’s old school thinking, but it works. You create something—whether it’s a video, an ad campaign, a brand identity—and you sit on it. You nurture it. You give it time to breathe and grow. Too many people throw away good ideas before they even have a chance to catch fire. If you’re serious about growing your business, you’ve got to understand the long game. Repetition matters. Consistency matters. Showing up day after day, even when nobody seems to notice, matters. Because eventually, people will notice. Eventually, the work compounds. That’s when the calls start coming in, the views turn into traction, and the brand you’ve been building becomes unshakable.
Final Thought
Instant gratification might feel good in the moment, but it breeds bad habits and eventually leads to failure. Don’t fall for it. Instead, embrace the grind. Trust the process. Do the work today that your future self will thank you for. Success takes time— but if you stick with it, the payoff will be far greater than anything you could have gotten instantly.
doing the challenge, and vets have come out to discourage people from doing the challenge with their pets.
While dogs are not seen wearing heels, or bending their knees while doing the challenge, their legs are placed on top of cans, or glasses, which is a safety hazard since dogs don’t have a strong awareness of where their back legs are while climbing or standing still.
While I don’t have anything against the challenge, taking it to the extreme may garner a lot of attention, but it could potentially come at a risk. So, if you have a desire to do the challenge, go ahead and do it, but be safe and stick to doing the challenge on a safe surface.
Photo Credit: Sean Seurattan
Chandra and Sean; A mother and son’s journey to understanding cannabis
mother, Chandra.
Chandra was a student who had immigrated to Toronto from Trinidad and Tobago, a woman with high morals and strict values. For her, “ganja” was a dirty word, associated with the worst kind of people. It was a line in the sand, and I knew I couldn’t cross it in her eyes. As I grew into my early twenties, my cannabis use became more regular. I built a career, first as a corporate trainer, and later as an entrepreneur, a cannabis journalist, and now a director at a consultation firm. The secrecy, however, never went away. It created a chasm between us. I’d be at her house for dinner, and she’d make a passing comment about “Those people who smoke,” and my stomach would clench. The unspoken accusation hung in the air, a ghost at the dinner table.
In 2018, everything changed. Canada legalized recreational cannabis. It was a seismic shift, but in my family, we tiptoed around it like a landmine. As a grown man with a family of quickly growing twins, and now a cannabis professional, I was tired of the lies and the shame. I wanted her to know the real me, not the carefully constructed version I’d presented for years. The conversation didn’t happen in a single, dramatic moment. It was a slow, deliberate process. I started by leaving copies of my articles on her kitchen table when I visited. I was planting seeds, hoping they would one day grow.
The real breakthrough came a few months later. My mother had been
complaining about her chronic wrist issues from her long career at the bank. She’d tried everything; from physiotherapy to painkillers, but nothing seemed to work. One evening, after she’d had a particularly bad day, she called me, her voice tight with pain. That’s when I saw my opportunity.
“Bird (my pet name for her),” I said gently, “I know you’re hurting. I’ve been reading a lot about how cannabis can help with chronic pain. It’s not like the stuff from back in the day; they have creams and oils you don’t even have to smoke.”
Silence. I thought I had ruined everything. “Sean,” she said, her voice softer now. “You actually think it will help?”
The moment of truth. “Yes, Bird. I do. But everyone is different. The worst that could happen is that it doesn’t work for you.”
That night, we talked for hours and even more over the next few days. I explained my business, my journalism, and the health benefits of cannabis. She was still skeptical, but she was listening. A few more weeks later, she asked me to get her a cannabis-infused cream for her wrists. I was shocked and thrilled. The next morning after trying it, she called me, her voice full of wonder. “Son,” she said, “the pain is not gone, but it’s much better. I can fully open my hands!”
That cream was the first step, and it led to an incredible bond. Over time, her perspective shifted completely. She started reading every one of my articles, following my business, and asking me real questions, not just accusatory ones. The ultimate show of her pride was the scrapbook she created, a beautiful collection of my articles and business milestones. It was her way of saying she didn’t just accept me; she was proud of me.
My mother passed away recently, but in the final years of her life, our relationship was closer than ever, built on a foundation of honesty and mutual respect. The chasm is gone, and in its place is a bridge, built one honest conversation at a time. That bridge connected a Trinidadian mother and her Canadian son, who finally found a way to understand each other. Her scrapbook sits on my desk now, a permanent reminder of her incredible journey to acceptance, and the love she had for her son.
$449,000
Our homes are among our most valuable financial assets, but they shouldn’t be our only strategy
Not long ago, a couple in their late 50s invited me over to their home in Etobicoke. We sat at their kitchen table, the same one where they had celebrated their kids’ birthdays, spread out homework, and discussed family holidays. That day, the atmosphere felt different.
“Jay,” the husband asked quietly, “Is our house... our retirement plan?” His wife looked at him, then back at me. Their question wasn’t just about the property, it was about the next chapter of their lives, and a question I’m hearing more often these days.
For decades, Ontarians believed a comforting truth: homes only appreciate. A house wasn’t just a shelter, it was a retirement fund, a safety net, a guaranteed legacy, but in today’s market, that “truth” is being questioned.
The 2025 Canadian Retirement Survey highlights changing patterns behind these stories. 44% of working homeowners now plan to sell their house to fund retirement, an increasing trend each year. 33% are thinking about refinancing or remortgaging to access cash. Yet, 65% of homeowners with
mortgages worry they won’t pay them off before retiring, a notable rise from two years ago. The idea of a mortgagefree retirement is now seen more as a gamble than a guarantee.
A home is a valuable asset, but it shouldn’t be your sole retirement plan. Use RRSPs, TFSAs, and other investments to create a diversified strategy. Think of your home as one leg of a three-legged stool; if it’s the only one, the stool tips over. Equity isn’t just about market fluctuations; it’s also about maintenance. A neglected roof, old windows, or an outdated furnace can lower your resale value by tens of thousands. Protecting your home means safeguarding your retirement.
If downsizing is part of your retirement plan, do the math before listing. After: realtor fees, land transfer tax, legal costs, and moving expenses, the net amount might be less than expected. Planning ahead helps avoid disappointment. Tools like HELOCs, or reverse mortgages can help access funds, but they aren’t free money. I often tell clients to see them as safety nets, not hammocks.
After many conversations around the kitchen table, the Etobicoke couple decided to downsize to a condo. Even in today’s softer market, they released enough equity to give them some breathing room and peace of mind.
Not all my clients want to sell. Take Marjorie, a retired teacher in Mis-
sissauga. Her house has lost nearly $250,000 in value since the peak and selling feels like giving up too much ground. Instead, she renovated her basement into a legal suite. Within a few months, she had reliable tenants, a young couple just starting, and suddenly, she was earning over $1,600 a month in rental income. Not only did it cover her property taxes and utilities, but it also gave her the freedom to keep her equity intact while the market recovers. Marjorie often tells me she sleeps better at night now. “It’s not just the money, Jay,” she said once with a smile, “It’s knowing my retirement doesn’t depend
on selling at the wrong time.”
These stories remind us that our homes are among our most valuable financial assets, but they shouldn’t be our only strategy. The most brilliant move Ontarians can make now is to see their home not as the entire retirement plan, but as part of a bigger puzzle. Whether that means downsizing, renting, or using equity wisely, the key is to plan and safeguard what you’ve built. When retirement comes, you want to be prepared, whether the market is booming, or declining.
YOUR HOROSCOPE
for the week of August 24 – August 30, 2025
THE LUCKIEST SIGNS THIS WEEK: VIRGO, SAGITTARIUS, AND AQUARIUS
ARIES: This week urges you to slow down and strategize. Quick wins tempt, but patience pays more long-term. By weekend, clarity replaces confusion.
TAURUS: Balance is key now. You’ve given so much energy away, your tank runs low. Midweek brings a chance to recharge and reset.
GEMINI: Conversations you’ve avoided resurface—don’t dodge them. A mix-up early smooths out quickly if you’re flexible. Your charm wins over tough critics.
CANCER: You feel protective of your space now. Trust that, but don’t shut people out. By Friday, support reminds you you’re not alone.
LEO: Momentum sparks—plans move faster than expected, opportunities arrive without warning. Stay sharp so you can act quickly. Confidence draws allies closer.
VIRGO: Spotlight’s on you, details matter more than ever. Doublecheck your work—others are paying attention. Saturday delivers a well-deserved breakthrough.
LIBRA: Partnerships are your focus now. A discussion shifts balance your way—if you’re upfront. This is your chance to realign priorities.
SCORPIO: You’ve carried more than others realize. Step back this week to protect energy. By Sunday, surprising news shifts your focus.
SAGITTARIUS: A creative burst lifts your mood—you’re ready for risk. Lean into inspiring ideas, no matter how odd. Momentum grows once started.
CAPRICORN: Home and career tug equally hard. Something avoided at home needs handling soon. Fixing it frees space for new progress.
AQUARIUS: Your words carry weight now—be mindful. People listen closely. Midweek, speaking up reshapes how someone important sees you.
PISCES: Your intuition runs strong—trust it before logic. Money or resource issues arise, but creative problem-solving saves things. Friday brings closure.
CROSSWORDS
HOW TO PLAY :
Fill in the grid so that every row, every column, and every 3x3 box contains the numbers 1 through 9 only once.
Each 3x3 box is outlined with a darker line. You already have a few numbers to get you started. Remember: You must not repeat the numbers 1 through 9 in the same line, column, or 3x3 box.
