By: Asfia Yassir in Toronto, ON
Grandparents can be gems to have as part of any family unit. Regardless of their day-to-day contributions, their mere presence can have a positive effect on all those around them.
Within a family household, this could range from eliminating loneliness, creating bonds or conveying culture through generations. But for many immigrants, in a practical sense, grandparents play a unique role in offsetting the financial burden of childcare.
For Ritu Ganesh, the cost of daycare was more than what they could afford. The fact that her 18-month-old daughter would not eat or even talk to anyone because of how unhappy she was at the daycare, only added to her distress.
“Having my mother over for a visit and later my mother-in-law who moved with us in Canada, was like stirring happiness in the family. I did not have to pay for the daycare anymore which would take more than half of what our monthly mortgage was,” Ganesh recalls.
The family had been in the midst of a financial crunch following their decision to buy a house so work had become imperative. When Ganesh’s mother arrived in Canada, however she was able to look after her daughter.
The number of grandparents across the country is growing at a significantly faster rate than the general population. With the ageing population of Canada, grandparents are playing a critical role in their family’s lives as caregiver, mentors, and spiritual guides.
Benefits on Both Sides
Many immigrants are bound by their culture to take the financial responsibilities of their parents despite living in separate countries. When such parents move in with their sons or daughters, it can also help cut expenses related to monthly remittances.
Living with a child’s family is a preferred choice for many elderly parents as they don’t have to go through the empty nest syndrome.
However, it requires a lot of effort and courage for grandparents to settle down in a new place. In addition they must overcome the nostalgia they experience while living in Canada.
“Life is quite happening back home. I miss all the cultural festivities and the fun we used to have with my relatives,” mentions Sumitha Ganesh who is living here with her son’s family. It is because of this nostalgia that Ganesh travels back home every year to reunite with all that she yearns for.
More grandparents in immigrant households
For immigrants still attempting to adapt to their new “Canadian lives”, the multi-generational family system becomes a means of solace. More than 1 in 5 recent immigrants (21%) lived with their grandchildren in 2011, compared with three per cent of the Canadian-born population in the same age group.
In single-parent households, the demand put on the sole income earner, can become overwhelming at times. The trials of migrating to a new country are magnified compared to when both parents are present.
Azra Riffat has been taking care of her family, including her mother, as the sole breadwinner. As a mother of two teenage sons supporting her ailing mother, it was increasingly difficult just to stay afloat. She took up evening and night jobs because her mother could not stay alone at home during the day.
“With my job we were just making our ends meet but thanks to the disability allowances of my mother which helped us as it contributed to our monthly rental expense,” recalls Azra. She further adds that her trials could have been reduced if the government allowed some compensation for caregivers of disabled citizens which is the case in many European countries like the UK.
For immigrants in particular, it is crucial to have the moral and emotional support of family as they begin their lives in a new country.
However, having an elderly parent in the home can also be stressful on younger generations. Old age comes with its own impediments in terms of health, requiring continuing care and emotional support.
Ashok and Meera* got married at a later stage in their lives and do not have children. Ashok’s mother, who is a dementia patient, lives with the couple as opposed to a retirement home. The family, in spite of their good financial standing, is also able to save on what would have been additional costs. Ashok adds that taking care of elderly parents teaches compassion and patience, which in turn creates a more emotionally grounded society.
“I decided to take care of my mother not because we cannot afford the fortune which old home facilities cost, but because there is love and care to show when you are living together as family,” he explains.
The couple feels happy to have their mother staying with them. “There is no loneliness at home and I enjoy her company,” says Meera. Although at times Meera feels that her movement is somewhat restricted, they are able to find time to vacation and get away through the help of Ashok’s sister.
The reality of multi-generational households is more complex compared to conventional family units. However, for many immigrants, the benefits of having these family members around far outweighs the negatives.
Parenthood is a journey of countless sacrifices as well as phenomenal devotion. Yet despite these untiring efforts, it seems that even in their old age, these parents may still have more to offer. In their support of the next generation, they become a source of relief for the entire family. While their children care for them an endless life cycle is continued in their new Canadian homes.
*Names changed for confidentiality.
This piece is part of the "Ethnic Women as Active Participants in Ontario" series.
By: Tazeen Inam in Toronto, ON
Canadian literature continues to diversify as more stories look to include a wider range of content set locally and abroad. Language barriers, migration trauma, cultural discrepancies and family responsibilities; women authors of diaspora are defying the odds, breaking through different obstacles to have their voices heard.
Ayelet Tsabari and Fartumo Kusow are two examples of determined women whose journeys outline what so many must overcome to become Canadian authors.
Breaking through Language Barriers
Ayelet Tsabari, who is from Israel, worked as a Hebrew journalist until she came to Canada at the age of 25. Writing, she believes, completes her. But in what was once a strong suit, language now became a challenge, pushing Tsabari to stop writing altogether. She could speak and read English, however it took her about eight years to gain the confidence to start writing.
Tsabari’s development started with her enrollment in a writing program, which she coupled with Canadian content she would read. As time passed, English began to flow into her work more naturally.
Tapping into her long lost passion, she began to create original pieces in the hopes of being published. But, to no avail as her lack of success prompted one of her teachers to suggest she read books other than Canadian literature.
“I realized that it’s not just language but it’s your heritage and even your mother tongue are still in you when you are writing in a new language. So certain things didn’t work for the publishers,” Tsabari explains.
Tsabari broadened her scope and soon she was reading literature from an array of multicultural writers. This broke the prison that had withheld her imagination, allowing her to finally express her voice.
“I just thought that if I started writing with that in my mind, just be you and do what you are and that’s what ended up getting me published,” she says.
Her dream came to fruition when her first book, "The Best Place on Earth", was published in 2013. The collection of short stories challenges the connection of spiritual heritage with modern life. Met with good reviews, it went on to win several distinctions, including the Sami Rohr Prize for Jewish Literature and the New York Times Book Review Editor’s Choice. Feeding off her first book’s momentum, she is now working on her second. In addition, she is also currently working with immigrant writers at the Toronto Public Library to improve their writing skills.
Fartumo Kusow was born to a farmer’s family in Somalia, as the seventh child. From a young age, she had difficulties establishing social connections with her peers and preferred to write instead.
“Instead of socializing with them I always had a notebook in my hand, that my father gave me and I would write in the notebook,” Kusow recalls.
As per Somali tradition, she married young, becoming a wife at the age of 16. Subsequently, this was also the same year her first fictional story was published in the national newspaper, where she worked.
Her husband had a job in the Middle East, which kept them financially stable. But when the civil war started in 1990, she was forced to leave. Already pregnant with her third child, she immigrated to Canada with her then-husband and two children.
Holding onto her dreams, Kusow knew that she wanted to become an author.
Unfortunately, Somali is her first language, Arabic her second. And due to war, she had little to no transcripts that could prove her credentials. However, she didn’t give up, completing her Bachelor’s in English before going on to a teaching program in Windsor. She has now been teaching since 2000.
Despite her successes, war trauma combined with move factors led to a failed marriage. She was left with no choice but to put her dream on hold as she filled the role of breadwinner for herself and her five children.
As she supported the household, her inner writer continued to itch at her until she resumed writing in 2011.
“When the kids are bit older and my career and my profession is [a] little more stable, I decided to spend an hour a day just to write something,” states Kusow.
Perseverance trumps Rejection
Nothing could stop her, not even the 104 rejections could dare be a hurdle to her dream. Though she finished her fictional piece in about three years, it did not garner much publisher interest. Sleepless nights turned into frustration as she pondered the reasoning behind her struggles. Until she came to the realization that the rejections were not personal but rather that publishing was simply a business.
With this in mind, she persevered, eventually getting published in 2017, when she produced "Tale of a Boon’s Wife".
Reviews speak to Kusow’s ability to clearly depict the issues stemming from the traditional Somali caste system, while simultaneously detailing the sufferings of the country’s civil war.
Kusow’s children are very proud of her and look up to her as a stronghold of leadership.
Though it has not been long since Canadian literature has started promoting more diverse content, its clear the industry is moving in the right direction. Several initiatives such as the Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD) constantly take steps to ensure progress continues.
While both Tsabari and Fartamo are giving back to the community in the form of teaching, it is important to provide aspiring writers with the opportunities to develop their skills. Through mentorships and training the next generation of writers will make an even bigger impact on Canada’s literary landscape.
This piece is part of the "Ethnic Women as Active Participants in Ontario" series.
Commentary by: Mohamed Hammoud in London, ON
A little bit of racism is okay seems to be the message coming out of the runaway success that is Black Panther.
Let's all admit this is a great movie, a testament to a first in Hollywood where we can finally celebrate a black superhero. Movies need to bring in the crowds and cash at the box office, and with $192 million in the first week alone, Black Panther is doing just fine.
While great, it falls short, however briefly, by propagating Islamophobia.
Yes, the movie does a formidable job at breaking with some common stereotypes by celebrating African Blacks as noble warriors in the fictional technologically-advanced nation of Wakanda. The characters are robust and emotionally intelligent and visually captivating with their traditional wardrobe. There is even testament to #FemalePower with heroes like Shuri, who exudes witty brainpower as T'Challa, the main character’s little sister, and with the characters of Nakia and Okeye as strong, independent women warriors who can think for themselves and are even willing to sacrifice their personal affections for a greater cause and the common good of their people.
In the wake of #MeToo, director Ryan Coogler scores again with a reminder to the need for powerful women role models.
Yes, I'm sure we have all waited long for a movie to do this, especially since the lack of diversity at the 2016 Oscars where Coogler's Creed, starring a black man, was nominated, although the nominee at the time was a white man. Black Panther can be seen as redemption for Coogler in 2018, but while the box office hit attempts to break stereotypes, in the same Hollywood fashion we have seen before, it doesn't quite succeed at breaking them all, and, it could be argued that it perpetuates some while dispelling others.
American vs African Blacks
Marvel wowed us with woman power with Wonder Woman, and now it is trying to appease us with a black superhero. Undoubtedly, this should be seen as a win for all of us, not just the black community. And it is. But as much as we want to celebrate the victory of T'Challa, does the plot do enough for the cause of #BlackLives as a whole? With the conflict between the two panthers, T'Challa and his outcast cousin, Killmonger, there is a message that when it comes to blackness, the noble African community fares much better than its American counterpart, struggling to reclaim their rights and glory.
While all good stories need a riveting plot, this tale compromises the struggle of the underdog, Killmonger, at the expense of his more noble African cousin, T'Challa. Spoiler alert: if the ending tries to redeem this split between the two communities, it doesn't do enough to counter the stereotype of the American black man as a thug and gangster.
Pandering to Islamophobia
The debate around black characters is not the movie's only downfall: the net’s ablaze with debates about the movie's alleged Islamophobic undertones. The much-discussed segment comes near the beginning of the story where T'Challa saves Nakia. Here, we witness the only reference to Arabic speech and to Muslims in the movie, and not surprisingly, they remind us that the only Muslim in the storyline is a terrorist who kidnaps women captives in full hijab.
Further to this, the female captives are emancipated not once, but twice, when they are rescued by T'Challa and Nakia, and then again, when they remove their ever-oppressive headscarves. If, as many are quick to point out in these online discussions, in defence of the movie and to exonerate this passage from pandering to #Islamophobia, that this was a reference to Boko Haram, I'm not sure that the majority of the viewing audience would pick up on it.
Or that they would be able to detach the significance here of the movie adopting another Islamic expression into Hollywood’s terrorist vernacular – the mention of "Wallahi", a very sacred vow meaning "By God I will" and much stronger than the more common "Wallah". These examples are enough to assert that even a little bit of racism in an otherwise praiseworthy artistic endeavour is still a bit too much.
In sum, while Black Panther portrays a new black reality, it falls short of fighting negative stereotypes of the typical black American outcast criminal and the Muslim terrorist. While surely a step in the right direction for #BlackLivesMatter, we must be aware that this more about celebrating box office revenues than anything else. Let's not get carried away.
Mohamed Hammoud has been involved in various public speaking engagements focusing on interfaith as well as training on leadership, diversity and inclusion. He is also an active contributor to New Canadian Media and a member of the NCM Collective.
Ever since Sukhwinder Singh Sidhu met and secretly married his one true love, his life has been one of pain, torture and false imprisonments in Punjab, India.
This week as the architects of his misery are extradited back to India, Sukhwinder aka Mithu has a message for them: “Was our love a crime that Jassi had to be her killed?”.
Speaking to Jupinderjit Singh, one of the authors of the book Justice for Jassi, Mithu said; “Finally, my wife’s killers will face trial for murder. My sole wish is to see them behind bars.”
Mithu, now a truck driver, said: “I’m still her husband. I can’t share my love for Jassi with anyone. I want to tell her mother that my love is true and eternal.”
MIthu was commenting on last week’s Supreme Court of Canada decision that finally paved the way for his wife’s uncle Surjit Singh Badesha, 72 and her mother Malkit Kaur Sidhu, 67, to be sent back to India to face murder charges.
Police allege the millionaire blueberry farmer Badesha and his sister Malkit Sidhu hired contract killers to kill Jaswinder Kaur Sidhu aka Jassi because she had married Mithu, a lower-caste auto rickshaw driver in Punjab.
Punjab Police investigations confirmed it was a so-called honour killing plotted by the mother and uncle while the duo were at home in Maple Ridge, Canada.
Born and raised in Maple Ridge, BC, Jassi Sidhu, 24, was killed in June 2000 by hired killers while living with her husband in Punjab, India. In an attack, Mithu was left for dead while Jassi was abducted and later killed.
Police traced 266 phone calls between Jassi's maternal uncle, Surjit Badesha, to the hired killers, becoming a basis by which India formally requested extradition in 2005 of Badesha and Malkit Sidhu to face murder charges.
Last week, 17-years after Jassi was found dead with her throat slit in a ditch outside the industrial metropolis of Ludhiana in Punjab, the Canadian chapter of this tragedy came to a close.
India formally requested Canada in 2005 to extradite Jassi’s mother and uncle to face trial after charging and convicting a band of hired killers in connection with the murder.
In May 2014, the British Columbia Supreme Court in Vancouver ordered that duo must be deported to India to face trial.
The struggle to obtain justice for Jassi, however, was set back the following when the British Columbia Appeal Court overturned the extradition order against Jassi's mother and uncle. The appeal court expressed concern that the both of the accused will be beaten and tortured in Indian jails.
The Canadian apex court last week reinstated the original order.
Harbinder Singh Sewak is the Vancouver based publisher of The South Asian Post which won a Jack Webster Award for its work on the Jassi case and is the co-author of the book Justice for Jassi. He stressed that the struggle for justice for Jassi will continue. “This case has shocked many people… many think this murder is about honour and religion… it is about greed,” said Sewak.
Fabian Dawson, the lead author of the book said while the Canadian chapter of the Jassi case may have come to an end, the Indian chapter is beginning.
“There is a still a trial and appeal process in India before justice for Jassi is finally achieved,” he said.
The book, Justice for Jassi, documents the entire saga and is narrated from the perspective of Mithu, who since his wife’s murder has continued fighting to see justice done for his wife, despite threats and attempts to silence him.
The authors scoured through thousands of police and court records in Canada and India, as well as hours of tape interviewing officials. The book shows how her mother and uncle orchestrated Jassi’s murder from Maple Ridge.
“We kept the website www.justiceforjassi.com going and we kept the story alive. We will continue to do so until there is justice for Jassi,” said Sewak.
Since Mithu and Jassi fell in love, there have been several attempts on Mithu’s life and at least six occasions where he has been falsely arrested and jailed.
The first time he was arrested, Mithu was jailed for allegedly marrying Jassi at gun-point. Indian police were given a false affidavit signed by Jassi in Port Coquitlam to effect the arrest. Jassi, however, went to India to say she married Mithu of her own free will and got him released.
In another case, after Jassi was murdered, Mithu spent about 44 months in jail for rape.
Sewak, the publisher of the South Asian Post hired sleuths and lawyers in India to show that the accuser was paid to make the false allegations against Mithu.
Mithu has recently petitioned the Justice Mehtab Singh Commission, which is probing “false” cases registered by the Punjab Police in the past 10 years.
All in all, Mithu has been arrested in six cases, of which he has been acquitted in four.
He claims all of them stem from the revenge-motivated family of his murdered wife who want him not to testify against them.
At various other times, he has been offered millions of rupees and land to stay silent.
But he vowed again this week to fight on for Jassi.
“I’m still her husband. I can’t share my love for Jassi with anyone. I want to tell her mother that my love is true and eternal.”
“The cops who arrested me told me to forget about Jassi,” Mithu said.
“Whenever I refused an offer for a compromise, another case was slapped on me,” he has claimed before the Justice Mehtab Singh Commission. On the basis of his testimony, notices have been sent to the police to appear at the hearings.
“From the initial offer of about C$30,000 and 14 acres of land and a passport to Canada, supporters of the accused have promised it all to me.
But I can’t trade my love for all this. I just want Jassi’s mother and uncle to be punished for what they did to her and me,” said Mithu.
Republished under arrangement with the Asian Pacific Post.
By: Sam Minassie in Toronto
The Institute of Canadian Archives is gearing up for its feature event of the year, which will showcase a number of speakers who will host open discussions on a range of topics. With over 30 diverse faith and non-faith based leaders, the event looks to send a strong message against xenophobia, anti-Semitism and Islamophobia.
The “Hearts & Minds Living Library: Compassion Catalogue” is slated to take place at Toronto’s City Hall. Multiple presentations will take place simultaneously, giving participants the ability to navigate the floor depending on their interests.
Award winning journalist and broadcaster, Naheed Mustafa will serve as the event’s Master of Ceremony. As an accomplished written contributor who has spent time in Pakistan, Sudan and Afghanistan, she offers a unique perspective on the day’s subject matter.
Five programs have been scheduled: The Living Library Sessions, Fireside Reading, Compassion Panel and a two-part Comedy Panel.
The event touches on a concept described as “the living book”. Attendants are able to check out actual individuals who they are interested in learning more about. Through the Living Library Sessions, a cast of about fifteen different people are available for booking. Positioned at several stations, participants are able to have one-on-one discussions to draw on their experiences and outlooks.
During the Fireside Reading, five “Best Sellers”, who cannot be individually booked, will speak to larger audiences. Named for their exclusivity, they are only available for a limited amount of time through group settings. The list includes Zaib Shaikh, Muhammad Fakih, Catherine Wallace, Nathalie Des Rosiers, and Dr. Ken Derry.
Hosted by Mustafa, the Compassion Panel will look to have an open discussion regarding tolerance and understanding. Titled, “Compassion in the 21st Century: Where Does Canada Stand?”, the panel will analyse how the country is responding to the increasing diversity of its population. Touching on various cultures, faiths and beliefs; listeners will have a chance to hear accounts from topical experts. Organizers hope that this will help move our communities towards increased inclusivity.
As readers hear different stories they are invited to take on new viewpoints by diving into narratives that differ from their own. The speakers look to show how Canadians can co-exist despite an array of ideals and past experiences. This is best put by one of the “Best Sellers”, Dr. Ken Derry, who defines compassion as a step further than empathy by keeping in mind that we are not always able to fully understand another’s experiences.
“And yet it is critical that we sympathize with the suffering involved, even while recognizing that we don’t ‘really’ understand….” Derry goes on, “In this respect, compassion is about asking (not telling) someone what they need.”
The day will close with Comedy panels that will showcase Anto Chan and the hosts of the So Help Me Pod, Courtney Gilmour and Dan Curtis Thompson. The acts will look to provide a humourous twist on a lot of the subject matter that was previously touched on. Maintaining that despite differences in beliefs, people can always share a laugh in good spirits.
The Institute of Canadian Archives is a non-profit based out of Toronto that aims to bring people together through storytelling. As the country’s social constructs continue to expand, the organization creates learning tools to better understand other’s views. In this regard, they hope to break down stereotypes and prejudices to build a more compassionate community for all Canadians.
The “Hearts & Mind Living Library” will start at 10 AM on September 9, with opening remarks from Executive Director, Azfar Rizvi. The full schedule can be found online, along with a floorplan of the proceedings.
By: Caora Mckenna in Halifax
If you’ve ever travelled or worked abroad, speaking and listening in a language that isn’t your own, you know the feeling of lying down at night exhausted. Your brain worked all day fumbling from one language to another. Every ounce of energy is drained. When your brain is that exhausted, you call home. You listen to your mother tongue. You listen without thinking – it’s a relief.
For Canada’s consistent stream of immigrants and their children, third language or “ethnic” media can be a refuge. It is news and stories in their language of comfort. Ethnic media -the official CRTC term – is defined as media that is not English, French or Indigenous. It is a collective of “others.”
The number of foreign-born Canadians has been increasing steadily since 1951. Today, metro Vancouver has almost as many foreign-born residents as the entire population of Nova Scotia. According to Statistics Canada, nearly half of the country’s population will be immigrants or children of immigrants by 3036. Of the 270,847 immigrants Canada received in 2015, 23 per cent had no working knowledge of English or French. For them, ethnic media is more than a haven, it’s a lifeline. The weight of this responsibility bears down on the journalists who work in ethnic media.
“It has always been the underdog industry,” says Madeline Ziniak, chair of the Canadian Ethnic Media Association and former national vice-president of Omni TV, Canada’s leader in multicultural programming. “Fraught with casualties, it’s never been easy.”
The state of ethnic media in Canada is as varied as its parts. Print is struggling to survive, radio is successful, online is innovating and TV has long been a quiet powerhouse.
Who is listening?
Across the country “good morning” is said in more than 200 languages every day. Buenos días is heard in Toronto, ਸ਼ੁਭ ਸਵੇਰ in Halifax and 좋은아침 in Vancouver. Omni TV in Ontario offers programming in 49 of those languages. The Canadian Ethnic Media Association’s directory of ethnic media outlets has 1,200 entries from B.C., Alberta and Ontario alone. Of the 1,609 Radio and TV Broadcast licences defined by content language, 275 are not English or French. There is similar momentum south of the border. In the United States there are over 3,000 ethnic media outlets, and since 2006 ethnic media is the only sector of print media that is growing.
Canada’s history of immigration is a history of storytellers. In 1835, Upper Canada’s first German weekly newspaper was printed in what is now Kitchener, Ontario. The Canada Museum und Allgemeine Zeitung’s subscribers were hungry for news from Europe – in a familiar voice. “It’s a bridge to Canadian citizenry,” says Ziniak.
Ethnic media is a vital tool to connect citizens not only to their past, but to Canada’s present, and to one another. Most of the time, that bridge is built with content by minorities, for minorities and about minorities. This has helped and hindered ethnic media by giving it legs to stand on, but few places to go. But this is changing. Today, car radios play international news and music, weekly newspapers cover local politics and run helpful how-to stories. You can watch Hockey Night in Canada in Punjabi from your living room on Saturday night. Ethnic media’s voices are here, they are speaking, and they are many.
The bridge that bends
George Abraham is a Canadian journalist who built a new platform. He started his career at the Times of India in Mumbai, formerly Bombay. Twenty-six years later, from his office in Ottawa, Abraham runs newcanadianmedia.ca. Canadian media, he says, “is not inclusive enough.” The problem: “The mainstream speaks to the mainstream, and the ethnic speaks to the ethnic.”
Dr. Catherine Murray, associate dean of Undergraduate Academic Programs and Enrolment Management and professor of gender, sexuality and women’s studies at Simon Fraser University was the principal investigator in SFU’s 2007 Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Media in B.C study. She says the way different cultures are communicating within Canada is something all journalists – both mainstream and ethnic – will have to “struggle with” in their content.
Mainstream media is taking up the challenge. CBC launched a five-year strategy, A space for us all, in 2014. Its inclusion and diversity plan commits the CBC to “be relevant and representative of the population it serves.” It is starting with the people making the content. Canadaland found that, in 2015, 90 per cent of CBC’s staff was white.
Dr. Sherry Yu, an assistant professor in the Department of Journalism at Temple University in Philadelphia,worked alongside Murray on SFU’s 2007 study. Yu says a “new stream” of ethnic media is emerging to cover issues that are misrepresented or not represented at all in mainstream media. It is driven by a younger generation of journalists whose content is online and in English. It is pushing the limits of ethnic media’s traditional audience.
Rooting for the underdog
As waves of immigration shift Canada’s idea of identity, daily and weekly newspapers pop up and go under in steady rhythm. In 1840, Canada Museum und Allgemeine Zeitung was sold to Heinrich Eby. It changed hands three more times before 1865 when a competing German newspaper, the Berliner Journal, forced it to stop printing. Today, the steady stream of immigrants is causing saturation in already niche markets. The 2007 study Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Media in B.C. found that 28 ethnic media outlets were serving Vancouver’s 50,000 Korean residents. (North Bay, Ontario also has 50,000 residents, but only three mainstream outlets.) There are only so many Korean restaurants, travel agencies and businesses in Vancouver. Yu says this makes competition for advertising revenue “huge.”
For Halifax’s first and only Arabic radio station, 99.1 Radio Middle East, saturation isn’t the problem. Arabic is the second most-spoken language in the city, but Oudai Altabbaa, the station’s accounts manager, says it’s “extremely hard” to introduce ethnic media into Halifax’s traditional economy. Still, he sees ethnic media as a way to “refresh” the economy, bringing in new ideas and new money. “A new way to communicate things to get people a little bit closer to each other.”
Altabbaa is optimistic. Working in radio, he has good reason to be. From 2011-15, third-language radio stations across Canada actually made money. Their English and French counterparts did not.
Other Canadian media outlets turn to funding from organizations like the Canadian Media Fund in order to innovate and stay open. The Canadian Media Fund is mandated by Canadian Heritage and funded by Canada’s TV companies and the federal government. It contributed $371.7 million in funding to Canadian television and digital media projects in 2015-16. Only $2.5 million went to “diverse languages.”
Money is a chief concern across all media, and ethnic media is well rehearsed in the pocket pinch. Many organizations “operate on a shoestring” says April Lindgren, associate professor at the Ryerson School of Journalism. Having time and resources to do good quality, timely and verified news “can be a challenge if you are the editor, the publisher, the reporter and the ad salesman,” says Lindgren. If the money runs out, so does the ink.
The National Ethnic Press and Media Council of Canada represents more than 500 members of the ethnic press and media. In 2012 it asked its members about business challenges. Forty-three per cent said they weren’t earning money for their work.
Waves of immigration sway ethnic media’s successes and failures. In 1958 Canada had more new Italian immigrants than British ones. At that time Canada’s third language press was building a national presence: there were 250 newspapers, representing more than 50 cultures. The “fiercely Canadian, proudly Italian” daily newspaper Corriere Canadese was started in 1954 by Dan Iannuzzi. In 1995 it revamped, adding Tandem, an English-language weekend edition –aimed at their readers’ kids and grandkids. In 2013, after funding cuts, Corriere Canadese joined the ranks of retired Canadian ethnic newspapers. It looked like the end of an era. Except, six months later, it was revived – and is in print today.
Sitting in corner stores and restaurants, it reaches 30,000 Canadians daily. As Sherry Yu says, ethnic media is “volatile.” It is also unpredictable, persistent, and necessary.
At once, a commodity and a social movement, increasingly important ethnic media in Canada is more important than ever. Ethnic media outlets, like immigrant communities, know that to survive is to adapt. They have learned this the hard way. If they don’t survive, says Yu, “nothing comes after.”
This article was republished under arrangement with the Signal.
By: Lu Xu in Halifax
“I don’t have anything else to do,” says Keith Bi. He is cleaning pig intestines—a tedious job. In the sink of his café in downtown Halifax sit two bowls filled with cold water and floating chunks of pig intestine that he bought from Toronto. Bi’s back is arched forward. He selects one of the intestines and turns it inside out so that he can see where the fat is, and carefully cuts out the white fat with a pair of scissors. It’s delicate work. He has to make sure he takes out the fat without poking holes. His right hand skillfully guides the blades of the scissors close against the inside wall. In one quick movement, the fat slips away into to the sink.
Bi is making a traditional Chinese dish: pot-stewed pig intestines. The café business has been quiet today, as it is on most days. He had to let go his only employee because he couldn’t afford the salary; he’s often the only one inside. A few days before, he added a catering service hoping it would increase revenue. And this traditional stew is something he wants to serve as part of his catering service.
He could’ve just thrown the intestines into a pot and boiled them all together—the fat would’ve just melted into the water, which he could’ve simply thrown away. But, as Bi says, he doesn’t have anything else to do.
In 2011, Bi immigrated from the city of Xi’an, China, on a working visa after being told by one of his relatives who lives in Halifax that Canada is a good place to live. He wouldn’t have to deal with the complicated social relationships that occur in China; relationships are more straight forward in Canada, he was told. And he could even open his own business. He decided to come to Canada first, and then hopefully bring his wife and son in the future.
Bi is not happy with the status quo in modern China. People often go around the law and rules, which has turned non-elites in the country resentful. You are a fool if you just obey the rules, people think. Networks and knowing the right people matter more. For someone like Bi who wants to play by the rules and is not part of the 1 percent, building a life in Canada seemed to be a good choice.
Since Bi came to Canada, he has worked as a chef, a cleaner, and other low-paying jobs. He had one goal: permanent residency. And he worked hard for it like most immigrants do. In 2014, three years after he arrived, he received his PR. It was a long time coming. His wife was supportive and helped with his application by sending all the required documents from China. Two weeks later, he bought himself a round-trip ticket to China and two one-way tickets to Canada for his wife and son. But one week before they were about to leave China, his wife told Bi that she was not coming to Canada with him. Instead, she wanted a divorce. The next day, she packed up her belongings and left.
Bi was shocked. He hadn’t seen it coming. Everything was going as planned and then all of sudden his life was falling to pieces. He went from a happy new immigrant with a PR in hand, to a lonely, divorced man explaining to a customs officer why his wife was not with him.
It takes Bi an hour to finish the cleaning the pig intestines. After washing his hands, he takes off his hat. His hair is longer than he’d like and it gets slippery with sweat when he works. But he hates the black baseball hat. Still, he wears it. “No matter where the kitchen is you have to put it on if you work in one,” he says. Bi is firm when it comes to obeying rules.
Bi is a forty-seven-year-old Chinese immigrant and the owner of Coffee Corner, a café located in the windowless basement below the office of Citizenship and Immigration Canada. The café is only thirty-five metres squared and is a convenience store with a help-yourself take-out lunch service. He does all the work himself and schedules his tasks to get things done on time. He learned how to be efficient when he worked in China as a chief inspector in a five-star restaurant. He was a good manager and knows how to train people. Once, he had two hundred people working under him.
In the late ’90s, Bi was honoured to work in a restaurant of its kind. Not only because it was well-paid, but also because of the associated privileges that came with the job. Most restaurants were only open to foreign guests, which is why he was taught how to cook Western food and learn basic English. They had products that you couldn’t get even if you had the money. It was almost like they got to see a different world.
But Bi never settles. He went all the way alone from Macau, in southern China, to Halifax, in Eastern Canada.
Usually, the stories we hear about immigration are inspiring—about how a refugee family endured trauma and rebuilt their life after coming to Canada. These stories are true, but there are also others—stories of immigrants, especially people with an Asian background, who experience high levels of emotional stress. A 2012 report by Citizenship and Immigration Canada suggests that immigrants from Asia and Pacific are more likely to have emotional problems, including depression or loneliness, than those who come from the rest of North America, the United Kingdom, and Western Europe.
Opening a new chapter in life is never easy. The first time Bi tried to launch a restaurant it fell flat, he says due to a poor choice of partners. And although his second attempt is also struggling, he will never give up. He gets up at 5:30 a.m. before the sun rises and leaves after 6 p.m. on most nights. He doesn’t sit down until noon. Since the café is in a basement, the only time he gets to see the sun on a winter weekday is when he goes outside to have a smoke. He throws on his ten-year-old leather jacket and strolls down the hallway, joking that smoking for him is like an injection, to motivate himself.
He tries his best to strike up a conversation with his customers when they walk through the café door. He smiles—he’s always cheerful around his customers—and asks how they are. He often tells them to leave their money at the counter or pay him later if he is away in the bathroom or smoking. He trusts them. He thinks everyone who works in the building has a decent heart. To his customers, he is an attentive Chinese immigrant who runs a convenient café but they don’t see that when he’s on his own, he gets lonely now and then. When the café is empty, Bi is quiet.
Loneliness is a terrifying thing. It’s like a black hole that sucks you in. Bi’s thoughts go wild when he slows down. He thinks about how rough it has been starting a business, how rebellious his son is, and, above all, how he doesn’t have the family he wanted at his age.
In Chinese culture, a family is one of the most important parts of a man’s life. The pressure from parents to get married and have children is relentless. Divorce and being childless are still new concepts for the community, and like many other divorced men in China, they think it’s somehow a failure or a mistake that they are responsible for.
The combination of living overseas, divorced, with a struggling business has made this restless man depressed—but Bi says he will always keep trying to make a better future. In April 2016, he boarded a plane to China to meet a woman he had been talking to online for six months. He didn’t know how things would turn out, but he hoped that they would like each other—that she would eventually join him in Canada. Nevertheless, he hopped on the plane.
When he arrived in China, he took a bus to meet her but missed the stop while helping blind person dial a number on their cell phone. Bi apologized to the woman when he met her and explained what happened, but she lashed out. “Why did you help a blind person?” she said. “It’s none of your business.”
In that moment, Bi knew she wasn’t the one.
Three months later, he flew back to Halifax, alone.
On a wednesday in January, at around 1:40 p.m., Bi is sitting at a small table outside his café eating lunch. It is his first break in five hours of work. His bowl is filled with a few spoons of some dishes from his buffet, all mixed together. Like many other Chinese people, he doesn’t separate his food. Although he’s a chef, he doesn’t seem to have a high standard for his own meals. He eats whatever is left over.
Bi adjusts his hat, places his cell phone on the round table in front of him, and starts eating. He is focused on his food with his face close to the bowl. There are no customers around, so he plays his cell phone out loud. It’s a video clip from a Chinese media outlet called Today’s Headline—how he keeps track of what’s happening back home. Most influential media outlets in China are controlled by the government, but Bi believes that Today’s Headline is trustworthy enough. Throughout the day, he has a surprising guest: his brother He and the man’s wife. He calls him “brother He” not because they are related but in the traditional Chinese way of addressing a man older than him with respect.
“What brought you here?” Bi asks, just happy that his friends have come. Bi pours two cups of coffee for them and mentions his new plan for a small change in the store: he stretches his arms wide and gestures to demonstrate what the changes are going to be as if he is sharing exciting news he has kept for a long time. His smile is broad and his eyes alight. At one point, he even squats on the floor trying to outline where his new counter will go.
When friends visit, he always cheers up. It just doesn’t happen very often.
One morning, a Thursday, I tell Bi that tomorrow is the Chinese Lunar New Year. He acts surprised—as if he forgot. For Chinese, it is a day of family reunion, when people who work far from home brave the traffic to see their parents.
“Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve?” Bi says. “Well then, I need to call my parents first thing in the morning.” He says he stopped celebrating festivals or his birthday a long time ago. Later that day, a lady walks into the store. She is one of the regular customers who works in the building. The card machine isn’t working very well, and she doesn’t have cash.
“You can pay me next year,” Bi says.
“January 28 is the Chinese New Year.”
Oh yes, Bi remembers. He remembers clearly.
He doesn’t have anything planned for the holiday, and still hasn’t talked with his son. They haven’t spoken in nearly two months.
Friday is usually the least busy day for him, and today, quiet is not what he needs. He seems distant and tries to keep busy. Brother He calls and invites him to dinner, which seems to lift his spirits. Bi takes out a pizza and adds it to the daily menu—the first time in weeks he has added something new.
The following day, Bi arrives at the store at the normal time, 6 a.m., pours cold water into the coffee pot, carefully places the pot in the coffee machine, and turns it on. He takes out his iPhone, dials a number, and puts it on speaker phone. The iPhone screen is broken. His parents are both over eighty and don’t have a computer at their home. Phoning is the only way he can reach them.
Bi seems peaceful when he talks to them; he has a flicker of a smile on his face. As he talks, he takes out bread and puts it into the toaster, cooks bacon, and fries eggs for the morning sandwiches. He moves around his small kitchen placing his cellphone here and there. During the phone call, he doesn’t stop working for a second.
After about thirty minutes, Bi tells his parents that he needs to get back to work, and hangs up. He didn’t want to call in the first place. Why would he? He knew what his parents would ask about: work and family. And he knew he had to lie. Like many Chinese immigrants, he never tells his parents back in China any bad news. He would rather lie than tell them the real story—the story about how difficult it is to build a life in a foreign land.
“It’s called white lies,” Bi says with a grin. But when he talked to them he felt pained.
Their questions only reminded him of his reality: the rebellious son that he hasn’t talked to for almost two months, his cafe that is barely getting by, and, above all, his loneliness.
But he couldn’t tell them the truth. He had to lie. He had to lie well so that his aged parents so far away wouldn’t worry.
Lu Xu, who hails from China, is studying journalism at the University of King's College in Halifax. This article was republished under arrangement with the Walrus Foundation.
By: George Abraham in Ottawa
In 1972, President Idi Amin expelled residents of Indian descent from Uganda. The move's impact was felt throughout the region as Indian-Africans in surrounding countries found they were met with the same hostile environment. Faced with theft, vandalism, and government seizures; a mass exodus ensued that forced hundreds of thousands to leave the only homes they had ever known.
Mansoor Ladha, who was living in Tanzania at the time, remembers the experience vividly. His novel, "Memoirs of a Muhindi: Fleeing East Africa for the West" details the journey he was forced into following exile. New Canadian Media conducted an interview with the author via email:
Q: Your life has encapsulated multiple migrations and at one point you write "Canada will be my final resting place". Can you explain how you came to this conclusion?
A: My book talks about my search for a homeland. I left Tanzania, stayed in Nairobi, Kenya, have been to London England several times and finally landed in Canada which has given me the feeling of being at home.
I had also considered [the] United States where I have family but the violent nature of that society doesn’t blend with my nature, philosophy and temperament. Looks like I have finally found my resting place [in] peaceful, tolerant Canada.
Q: Your memoir is also a journey in journalism - across continents, across political philosophies, ethnic and civilizational divides. Do you think Canada could have been more appreciative of your evident talent?
A: There are plenty of examples of mistreatment that I have received in Canada. First as a job seeker and later even as a newspaper publisher. It gives me the impression that Canadians are always fearful of the unknown. This fear is especially applied to people of colour. There used to be a stereotypical belief which cast doubt on all immigrants’ ability to do a job. Hence, most employers were then reluctant to hire immigrants. However, once Canadians see your performance and are impressed with it, then that fear is gone, replaced by acceptance and respect.
Q: Immigrants tend to have more riveting life stories and this is surely true in your case. What's the one message about immigration that you'd like your readers to take away from your book?
A: My message to employers is don’t indulge in stereotypical thinking and don’t judge immigrants because of their colour. Give them a chance to prove themselves on the job-try them out on probationary period and then make a decision.
To [my] fellow immigrants. My message is don’t be disappointed by failures or hurdles that you encounter during your time of settlement. Keep on trying and you’ll finally succeed.
Q: You have written for mainstream media, owned town newspapers and contributed in many ways to the telling of Canadian stories. How would you describe the state of Canadian journalism today?
A: These are very uncertain times for media in Canada, especially newspapers. In most Canadian cities, newspapers have either folded or are owned by newspaper chains. In many major markets, the chain has also bought their competition, creating a virtual monopoly. With the result: editorial staff has been cut down to a bare minimum, local stories have been replaced by wire stories and the number of pages has also dwindled.
Canada has a lot of excellent journalism schools in every city, churning out J graduates in huge numbers who don’t have a job to go to. It’s a sad and pathetic time for those planning to enter the profession.
My suggestion to J-graduates is to start knocking on doors of weekly newspapers and forget about working on dailies as an entry point.
Q: Lastly, if the forced emigration from East Africa were to happen today, do you think Canada and the average Canadian would be just as welcoming as in the early 1970's when you arrived?
A: The prevailing mood in Canada today is pro-immigrant, pro-refugee, partly because of Justin Trudeau [and the] Liberals’ policy to welcome immigrants and refugees.
Since the 70s, Canadians have learned what immigrants can do and how hardworking they are. Several immigrants have sought civic, provincial and national public office and have done remarkably well in these areas. In business, professions and politics, immigrants have shone brilliantly and the society at large have been appreciative of their contributions. They are now respected by the main stream society.
George Abraham is the founder and publisher of New Canadian Media. A former Nieman Scholarship recipient at Harvard University, he has over 26 years of newsroom experience, including work with publications such as aljazeera.net, the Toronto Star, the Ottawa Citizen and more.
By: Caora Mckenna in Halifax
Inside the Halifax Seaport Farmers’ Market on Halifax’s waterfront you’ll find a stack of the Dakai Times newspapers. Printed in Chinese and English, the quarterly newspaper is a tiny nod to the growing immigrant population in the area. On Saturday mornings, the market fills with sounds, scents and accents from all corners of the world. The lone stand of newspapers tells a different story. Local ethnic media - integral to community integration for newcomers - is almost entirely absent from the airwaves and newsstands in the province.
The provincial government is working hard to bring immigrants to Nova Scotia. Nearly 5,500 newcomers arrived in 2016 -- the highest number in the last decade -- and more are expected for 2017. Significant resources are being put into the Atlantic Immigration Pilot and Halifax Partnership to bring immigrants to the province and keep them here. One thing missing for new and old immigrants is information in their mother tongues. Where local media is absent, newcomers are leaning on international sources for news from home in a familiar language.
Filling the gaps:
Halifax is home to the majority of Nova Scotia’s immigrants and the few local ethnic media outlets catering to immigrants are there, too.
Meng Zhao started the Daikai Maritimes Newspaper in 2012. It covers local events, highlights local business owners, and regularly documents its issues in the Nova Scotia Archives. Through a partnership with The Chronicle Herald, 30,000 copies are distributed four times a year as well as 5,000 copies at specific neighbourhoods in Halifax Regional Municipality. Zhao set out to fill a gap in a niche community, and five years later is still the only print source in the province printed in a minority language.
The second most spoken language in Halifax is Arabic, but it wasn’t until the spring of 2016 that Montreal based 1450 AM launched 99.1FM Radio Middle East in the city. The station broadcasts Arabic programs and a selection of Arabic and international music. Account executive for the station Oudai Altabbaa says the minority language audience is on the rise in Halifax, and “somebody needs to tap into it and talk to it.”
Altabbaa knows there is great potential for the economy to grow by capitalizing on this market. But “it’s extremely hard to educate businesses here about the benefit of this because they are not used to it, and as we know Nova Scotia is very traditional,” he says. “So when you tell them it’s an Arabic radio station, they don’t take you seriously.”
Working to highlight the importance of immigrant voices and stories is My Halifax Experience. The quarterly magazine fills news stands in ethnic grocers and community centres, and content is regularly published online. Filled with helpful tips and inspirational stories, in English, it speaks to all immigrants, beyond their mother tongues. The online website has expanded to My East Coast Experience with the same goal in mind.
International magazines and newspapers available from libraries or specialty newsstands are filling in the rest of the gaps. Halifax Public Libraries has an extensive collection of subscriptions in Spanish, German, Arabic, Russian, Hindi, Japanese, Chinese and more. Atlantic News, a specialty store for newspapers and magazines, fills one to four regular subscriptions for Russian newspaper Argumenti & Facti and German sources Der Spiegel and Die Zeit weekly and biweekly.
In 2011, immigrants accounted for 5.3 per cent of the Nova Scotian population. That proportion is expected to rise to between 7.7 and 10.7 per cent in 2036, according to Statistics Canada. Immigrants in Halifax made up 8.2 per cent of the city’s population in 2011. By 2036, that will rise to 15.2 per cent.
“When immigrants are feeling like they are a little bit more connected with opportunities that come up because of radio stations or media speaking their language,” says Altabbaa, “they might decide to stay in Nova Scotia.”
As Nova Scotia welcomes more immigrants and tries to keep them in the province, ethnic media has an opportunity to catch up, then develop and grow.
This article was republished under arrangement with Mirems.
By: Jagdeesh Mann in Vancouver
To be the “last king” of anything means you left this world either a legend or a tragic figure. Maharajah Duleep Singh, the final monarch of the Punjab kingdom, who was forcibly separated from his family as a child, dispossessed of the Koh-i-noor diamond, converted to Christianity as a teenager, died a penniless, broken man in Paris, and is today buried in England, clearly falls into the latter category. But just as some within England’s Sikh community are seeking to exhume his remains for return to the Punjab, so are others working at rehabilitating his victim legacy.
Veteran U.K. actor and filmmaker Kavi Raz is one of these reformers. His film, The Black Prince, is a new production on the deposed monarch, who as an 11-year-old was removed from the throne and by 15 was exiled to England after his kingdom was annexed by the British in 1849. Unlike other ‘last kings’ such as Louis XVI of France and Nicholas II of Russia, Singh was spared the guillotine and firing squad, but the impressionable boy king would live out his life cut off from his family, culture, and homeland, remaining forever hidden away, if not lost, from his people.
Raz’s biopic sets course to rescue Duleep Singh from the forgotten recesses of English and Indian history. For the writer-director and his fellow producers, The Black Prince is clearly a passion project; the period piece is scripted in a mix of English and Punjabi, showcases an international cast, and features detail-oriented sets of Victorian England.
The film is not song-and-dance Bollywood, nor does it fall into the Punjabi-language genre which is bloated these days with slapstick comedies. Like the recent Oscar nominated Lion, The Black Prince is part of a new wave of film and television content capable of generating box office revenue domestically and internationally. In Canada, there are over one million Punjabi speaking South Asians who provide a niche target for the film.
Raz knows his target demographic well—he is originally from the Punjab region—and has crafted a story to win the hearts and minds of this audience. Unfortunately, this comes at an artistic cost, as The Black Prince seems more like a mission than a movie at times. Raz presses hard to recast Duleep Singh as a freedom fighter and a devotee of the Sikh faith, selectively omitting facts to make this case. The oversimplification of Duleep Singh’s re-initiation into the Sikh faith is one example of the film’s rolling-pin approach to the maharajah’s story (more on this pivot point below).
This heavy-handedness flattens characters throughout the movie, whether they be villainous English officers or the maharajah’s wives. Raz’s Duleep Singh is a stripped-down joyless version of an ex-sovereign, who was known to have thoroughly appreciated the velvet trappings of aristocratic life. We also see very little of a maharajah who took considerable pride in being a sportsman, playwright, and musician.
This ‘Black Prince’ who is constantly in a black mood is played by the eminent Punjabi musician Satinder Sartaaj who is forced to brood through his lines and awkward silences that ask too much of his acting skills. When he is not weighed down by a gnawing sense of displacement—the maharajah was, technically speaking, England’s first Sikh immigrant—he suffers from an identity crisis. That only intensifies when he finally reunites with his mother, Rani Jindan, superbly acted by Shabana Azmi.
These repetitive scenes of inner anguish neither advance the story nor reveal the complexity of a maharajah who, as a blue-blooded aristocrat, may have felt as much kinship with members of Europe’s ruling classes as with the average Punjabi peasant or Sikh devotee. The use of a third-person narrator would have relieved the maharajah from having to make banal political statements every other scene. Alternatively, Raz could have shot the film as a historical docu-drama interspersed with interviews to maximise his control over the narrative.
Eventually the maharajah’s contrived emotional distress culminates in a lukewarm climax when he re-converts to Sikhism during a failed passage to India—the British government denied him entry to travel to his homeland. Now near the end of his life, his unrest becomes outright rebellion as he bands with a group of Irish rebels and Russian agents and takes the helm of a quixotic, and ill-advised, plot to seize back his kingdom.
While there was likely some revolutionary fervor in the maharajah’s desire to overthrow English rule in India, it is a stretch to credit these actions solely to a pious freedom fighter, as Raz has suggested.
Historically there was also a financial motive—and a reasonably just one—behind Duleep Singh’s fall-out with his captors. Like many Victorian-era estate holders of his time, he was perpetually in debt due to a profligate lifestyle. His promised annual pension in 1860 of £40 thousand per annum ($7.7 million CAD in today’s terms) was always short-paid by half every year. While £20 thousand per year afforded him a luxurious lifestyle as single man, this amount, not indexed to the rate of inflation, became insufficient later in life as he became a father to eight children and husband to two wives.
At the time of Punjab’s annexation, the British government had also seized his family’s vast personal estates and holdings which should not have been included as state properties. Despite Singh’s ongoing campaigning to the Crown, these assets were never returned, much to his vexation.
Among Sikhs, there is a commonly held view that the modern downfall of their Punjab state actually began over 150 years ago when the kingdom created by Duleep’s father, the great Maharajah Ranjit Singh, crumbled after the Anglo-Sikh wars. A century after the golden age of the Lahore Darbar, Punjab was torn in half by Partition in 1947, and today what is left is being further shredded by rampant drug abuse, gross corruption, farmer suicides, and environmental damage.
Solutions remain elusive, but heroic accounts from the past provide hope that things can be better.
The Black Prince covers an important story that has long required production. While this movie pays tribute to the maharajah by rescuing him from the shadow of history, it does not, however, set him free. Over a century since his death, Duleep Singh still remains a pawn—now of modern-day Punjabi and Sikh identity politics—as he once was during the Great Game of colonialism in the 19th century.
Jagdeesh Mann is a media professional who works as the executive editor of the Asian Pacific Post. This article has been republished under arrangement with the South Asian Post.
-- Canada's economic development minister Navdeep Bains at a Public Policy Forum economic summit