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Largely speaking, race is not something that tends to bother very young children. So when I discovered that my four-year-old daughter and two-year-old son were the only black children in their new preschool, I wasn't sure how to feel.
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After the World War 2, we lost all contact with our many relatives in Ukraine, dozens of them. My father and mother were both born in the village of Lopushna, not far from Lviv, in what was then Poli...
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Nobody saw me until I had a degree. Nobody gave a damn about me in foster care, or worse, they tried to save me -- to show me how horrible Indians were, and that I should assimilate into the culture of normalcy, the every day: the middle class default.
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What is it about hair that ruffles so many feathers? Last week, despite having been told not to do so, an Ottawa teacher chopped the hair off a child, ostensibly because the child was chewing on it. The teacher appears to have believed that somehow, he was acting in the child's best interests. Had he decided the child's identity for him? Had he decided that a child with a disability cannot make his own choices as to his appearance?
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I'm a white woman who has spent my life advocating for women's rights in Afghanistan. Unapologetic for my lack of shared ethnicity with those I have strived to defend, I've heard an array of logic-bending criticisms, from subtle critiques veiled in the buzzwords of post-modernism, like the suggestion that all development workers inherently occupy a 'hegemonic' position, to less creative and cruder name calling.
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The long years of communist leadership in Cuba and the violation of human rights, specifically the attacks on freedom, have pushed many to pursue a life elsewhere. The way I saw it, there weren't any reasons to be proud.
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Recently an APTN investigation called famous novelist Joseph Boyden's indigenous ancestry into question. The broader issues raised in his situation are what drew my attention - issues such as distinguishing who has lived experience as an indigenous person.
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This conversation might be new to you, but it's always been relevant and ongoing, and it's often a reaction of something your people have caused. It's often complicated by outsider intrusion and historical erasure.
As gift cards become more popular with consumers and merchants, criminals also want a piece of the holiday pie. As criminals get savvier, they are finding new loopholes to exploit, and e-gift cards are increasingly becoming a lucrative way to commit fraud and to launder money.
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We as a diaspora, watched the curtain fall on a decades-long conflict we could never fully understand. And although the impact of the war varies drastically between us, what remains consistent is the recognition of a profound loss and the silent mourning of a forgotten identity.
It's been barely a week and we're seeing it already. Numerous Muslim women across America getting attacked, students in universities calling black classmates "cotton pickers," and reports of racist graffiti surfacing all over the country. Already more than 200 incidents of harassment have been reported since Donald Trump won the presidency.
Although I've lived essentially my whole life here and received my Canadian citizenship in kindergarten, not having a Canadian birth certificate separates me from second-gen Canadians. At the same time, I don't have vivid memories of growing up anywhere else, like my parents and other first-gen Canadians. Sometimes, I feel like generation 1.5.
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My older sister and I moved to Canada from Sri Lanka in the early 90s when I was nine, after both of our parents had passed away. We were fortunate enough to have family members who had been living here since the 70s with the means to sponsor us through a formal process.
In 1997 I went to the West Bank to study Arabic. Once there, I found that many of the students in the program were, like me, half Palestinian, and were there as part of an attempt to discover their roots. Before I left, I hadn't thought much about how language defines who we are, or what happens when the languages we use to build our identities are rendered useless.