As a child with a visible disability growing up it was really rare for me to find media and written content about children with a disability. As a mother to a toddler, I am now finding it challenging to find content that addresses parents and caregivers with disabilities. Often when me and my little girl go somewhere together, I am the only wheelchair-using parent. Representation matters. It mattered for me as a child. I needed to see disabled children being and succeeding in the world and it matters now. I want my child and others to know that parenting with a disability is a valid way of being.
Written by Shamim Ahmed The last pandemic we faced took place almost a century ago. COVID-19, a deadly disease caused by coronavirus, has emerged as a catastrophe and completely shifted our world in every way possible. It has infected millions of people and…
“The single story creates stereotypes…They make one story become the only story”. When I heard these powerful words spoken by renowned author Chimamanda Adichie, it brought me back to a day in my twelfth grade Canadian Politics class. It seemed as if it was just another day. The same students. The same teacher. The same posters celebrating the “cultural mosaic” that is Canada lining the walls. But something would happen during these seventy-five minutes that would change the way I saw myself, forever.
I am a wheelchair- using mother and a PhD student at OISE in Social Justice Education. When the lockdown in Toronto began we lost access to daycare and we also lost more than one support person (Nurturing Assistants) who felt that their own lives were too disrupted by the pandemic to continue to provide ongoing support to us. Without this direct support neither myself nor my child can shower safely, and I have no means of taking my twenty-one month old outside on my own. On top of which our building has been plagued with significant apartment maintenance issues all summer which has meant I have had to solve big family pandemic issues for 4 months and counting….
I was sitting on the couch, reading a popular “Bengali” fiction, and all of a sudden heard my daughter mumbling “brutal”. I looked at her once, and again went back to my reading when I heard her infuriatingly saying “that’s totally unacceptable”. I took a pause from my reading, sat back properly, looked at the television and saw that horrid image of a policeman sitting on the road with his knee placed firmly on a person’s neck with a stone face. I was a little startled whether my 12-years old daughter should be watching this, but then she left on her own without saying much. I inquisitively continued to watch the news and came to know about the horrific act of killing George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American, during an arrest for allegedly using a counterfeit bill. To be frank, I came to know about the allegation at least two weeks after the killing, as I was not curious about the reason why a person could be killed so brutally. I had no idea why a person should be treated so inhumanely as if he was not a living object. I was shocked.
By Amanda Cheung
Originally published on the University of Toronto’s Family Care Office Blog, Intersections.
Race is a complex but necessary topic we should be considering to discuss in our homes, and especially with our children. We know that many families are beginning to have these difficult conversations with their kids. The Family Care Office has compiled a list of resources to help support discussions about race and equality with young people.
Authored by University of Guelph student Megan Coghill Social distancing rules and the closure of many public parks and recreation areas has caused many of us to spend more time indoors than we would like. Especially with the warm weather and sunshine, it is important…
You were born late on a cold November night. At that moment, I also experienced a rebirth of sorts. When you were first placed in my arms, I felt more weight than the 10 pounds 2 ounces announced by the nurse. I felt the weight of your safety; physical, emotional, spiritual, and the great honour bestowed upon me to guide you through life. The weight of responsibility was overwhelming. You watch my every move, listen to my every word, and observe every emotion. What traditions I decide to practice, what language I speak, my hobbies, how I deal with sorrow, how I express joy, are all going to shine through as ‘the way’ to be.