[Rahma]

I believe the stigma against Black youth and cannabis is structural and historical.

Cannabis is a plant. A medicine. A tool. Yet Black youth are still hyper-stigmatized for using it. Why?

It’s not about the plant itself—it’s about who is using it.
For other racial/ white , middle-class users, cannabis is normalized, trendy, even medicinal. For Black youth, it becomes a symbol of “deviance,” “risk,” “criminality.” The same plant is neutral—or celebrated—depending on who touches it.

This isn’t accidental. It’s structural and historical. Anti-Black policing, the War on Drugs, school disciplinary policies—they all coded Black bodies as suspect. Cannabis use became another way to surveil, punish, and criminalize Black youth. Even when science and medicine say otherwise, the stereotype sticks.

The stigma persists because society doesn’t just fear cannabis—it fears Black autonomy, Black pleasure, Black decision-making. The plant is incidental; the target is the youth. And the caricature? It’s convenient. It lets everyone else feel safe, moral, “normal,” while Black youth carry the consequences.

We have to ask ourselves: why do we normalize some people’s choices but criminalize others? Why is Black youth autonomy still pathologized, even when it’s just a plant? The answer isn’t in cannabis—it’s in the systems that decide whose humanity counts.

[Rahma]

Dr Ann Arnett Ferguson’s framework reveals a sophisticated form of cultural extraction. Black masculinity becomes simultaneously criminalized and commodified.

Black males’ images and futures are inevitably sealed & prepackaged in this western world as the criminal image or the endangered species image.

The social engineering Ferguson identifies operates exclusively on Black men: systemic conditioning that narrows their behavioral possibilities while expanding societal surveillance. Yet this same engineering process creates cultural signifiers—confidence, authenticity, physical presence—that become valuable social currency when performed by non-Black bodies. Wearing durags, cornrows, the jamaican-canadian accent we all mock.

This is strategic extraction. The very traits that trigger punitive responses when embodied by Black men become markers of desirability, coolness, or authenticity when adopted by others. The criminalization creates scarcity; the scarcity creates value; the value gets harvested by those immune to the criminalization.

What emerges is a system where Black men experience the disciplinary mechanisms of social control while simultaneously watching their cultural expressions become profitable performances for others. They live the consequences of the stereotype while others access its social benefits.

The sophistication lies in the circularity: society constructs limiting images of Black masculinity, criminalizes Black men for embodying these constructions, then celebrates non-Black appropriation of the same traits as transgressive or authentic. Black men remain trapped within the disciplinary framework while their cultural production circulates freely in privileged hands.

Social engineering is far too sinister too interesting to talk about. It is really deeply insidious how racism is thought out and performed. Dehumanization sounds like exactly what it sounds, however I digress.

[Rahma]

Canada loves its diversity show. Since 1988, we’ve been the country that gets it—multicultural, welcoming, progressive. We put it on our money, in our tourism ads, on our international reputation. But check the receipts.

Caribana gets defunded. Blockorama fights for survival. Black youth organizations get their budgets slashed while City Hall poses for photos at their events.

But as Dr. Andrea Davis reminds us is Module 2 (2.2: Challenging Constructions of Black Youth Masculinities)that this celebration can be a shield.

It lets us enjoy the flavours of Africa, the Caribbean, South Asia without facing how anti-Black racism—and colonialism—still shape our lives.

I once had a white coworker smile and say,
“Was colonialism fun? I mean, we get to have jollof rice and curry goat all in one place!”
It was meant as a joke, but it landed heavy.
Because behind that abundance is a history of displacement and violence we rarely name.

Hyper-performative multiculturalism is Canada’s specialty: we’ve mastered celebrating culture while starving the communities that create it. We’ll fund the festival but not the youth center. We’ll Instagram the parade but ignore the program cuts. We’ll applaud Black excellence while Black kids still face suspension rates three times higher than their white classmates.

It’s brilliant, really. Everyone gets to feel good. The politicians get their photo ops. The public gets their cultural tourism. And when the music stops, when the cameras leave, the real work—the funding, the policy changes, the daily grind of supporting Black communities—that’s someone else’s problem.

This isn’t accidental. Comfort and complicity are best friends. It’s easier to celebrate Blackness as performance than to confront it as lived experience. It’s easier to cheer diversity than to challenge the systems that make it necessary to fight for basic equity.

The danger isn’t that we don’t care. The danger is that we think caring is enough.

Real solidarity doesn’t come with a parade permit. It shows up with sustainable funding, policy changes, and the uncomfortable conversations Canada loves to avoid. It means moving from audience to accomplice.

As Dr. Andrea Davis Davies reminds us in her work on challenging constructions of Black youth masculinities, the Canadian Multiculturalism Act of 1988 promised inclusion, but what is performance when the system underneath is decaying, rotting, eating communities alive? What good are multicultural celebrations when the very structures meant to protect and nurture are exploitative and rotten at their core? So in our face, super that.

[Rahma]

What does this have to do with Youth Work? You may think from the title. I was not aware myself that Youth Work is what I was doing after I completed my undergraduate studies in maybe the most colorless, depressing, uninspiring winter of my life- December 2022. It had now been 5 years since I left home and did not return… I digress. The winter was brutal, rural Ontario is brutal. Being Black in rural Ontario is having to question if you are literally invisible or human.

As an African, I storytell by digressing,

as the ancestors would say- “Allow, me. Let me land.”

It was my first time ever in my life to go to a makeshift slaughterhouse for my forensic science practice exam, of course I was the only black person, do not ever call me BIPOC, but that population was not there either. The instructor quickly affirmed us that it was indeed just goat blood and horse hair in the make-shift crime scenes that we had to exam, wished us good luck and split us into groups. Before you know it we were hopping into our bunny suits in our respectful groups. My crew quickly gathered their notebooks and split themselves away from me.

For a second- I had one of those moments in my life where I had to check with myself and confirm with myself whether this was actual reality. Did I do anything wrong? Do I smell bad? Do I look to fat in this bunny suit? Aye.

Nonetheless, I gathered myself for another attempt to re-engage, they all -I do not want to say acted, they all ignored me, looked at me, proceeded to move further away from me while the instructor watched this all happen. I attempted at nothing- I was left alone, to do the group assignment in that smelly dark isolating slaughterhouse- emotionally, physically isolated even amongst educational peers and prospective fellow graduates at the time. The following week I received my grades for my mid term I averaged 27% having scored a 0 in my group assignment- the instructor lectured me about my incompetency in front of the entire class, that mid term, 7 weeks into my learning in Canada, I stopped attending school and failed my entire first semester altogether, unknowingly, that was my first taste of structural racism, it was prepared like a table before me by my peers and by my instructor and by the institution. I was kicked out of the Forensics Science program – we need more black people in Forensics, I am tired of this.

I digress, after battling depression anxiety imposter syndrome and other challenges and changing my major 4 times over I landed in Sociology for the first time I reverted back into my heart. I am a ladden maddened Social Scientist that studied and was unsparingly being hit by waves of blatant oppression simply because i am African Woman / Black. This is my exhausting story. But four years later I was able to advocate for students , Black students just like me, international canadian, the hurt and the grief in my chest turned into passion and boldness to advocate. Advocate for Nneka (alias) who was randomly kicked out of her room by her landlord at 3:00 am as she randomly had family coming over and could no longer keep the lease with Nneka. or Reshawn who I found crying outside a chatime near campus because he swore four police cars had been following him this entire week and I had to explain to him why. There is Mikayla, there is Adanna, Justine, Will. Of course these are aliases, but I saw myself in them. None of us even came from the same ethnic background, or country, or religion or faith. So I layed my life down and advocated for black youth in student bodies, in dei offices, in my platform that now rests ” Black in Ontario” with Black Lives Matter Nogojiwanong, I did advocacy to empower Black Youth for two years without a job, in horrible health, in ideation of not wanting to live.

But I cannot help it when it comes to Black Youth from everywhere you see because I see myself, your younger, your uncle, your mum.

Why we hoard furniture. Why we keep frozen cooked meat in old ice cream containers.

Unspoken things that have journeyed me here as a Youth Engagement Lead at YouthReX doing exactly what pain turned into purpose. Centering Black Youth.

I have empathy, infinitely for Black Youth.

• This discussion was modified 4 hours, 28 minutes ago by  Rahma Kiongozi.

[Rahma]

Gary- what a wide mirror. You casted before us such a story, it painted very real in my life. The string of care that was quietly and maybe strangely interestingly- for a lack of better words- was held between yourself, all of YOU , in that story is reflective of the very essence of what Youth Work really is, not the clinical jargon and westernized interpretation. I learned from you that Youth Work is passive and active – living- act of reflection and reflecting. Thanks- Gary.

[Kathe]

The Government of Canada’s Youth Justice Fund is currently accepting new proposals for both multi-year and short-term pilot projects starting between April 1, 2026 and March 31, 2027.

Youth-serving organizations are invited to apply for funding for projects that promote community safety by addressing the root causes of youth criminality.

Projects must target one or both of the following groups:

• Youth aged 12 to 17 or
• Justice professionals and/or service providers who work directly with these youth.

The deadline for proposals is October 17, 2025, at 11:59PM PT.

Learn more about this opportunity on the Government of Canada’s website.

• This reply was modified 1 day, 2 hours ago by  Kathe Rogers.

[Kathe]

FREE TRAIN-THE-TRAINER WORKSHOP ON OCTOBER 14TH!

Each of YouthREX’s 16 Call-In-Cards for Anti-Black Racism Action presents a real-world scenario and four reflective prompts, designed to encourage self-reflection, collective learning, and meaningful action. Each card explores issues such as power, identity, language, belonging, and accountability.

On October 14, 2025, we’re excited to host an in-person train-the-trainer workshop on how to use the Call-In-Cards to facilitate dialogues that connect understandings of anti-Black racism to anti-Black racism practice.

The workshop will take place from 9:30AM to 3:30PM ET at York University, and will feature a session with Dr. Carol Wade on how critical self-reflexivity about the 16 scenarios can lead to the identification of gaps and opportunities to support the ongoing work of combatting anti-Black racism.

Apply by September 30th to join us! All costs for refreshments, lunch, and a physical Call-In-Cards pouch are covered. (To be eligible, you must be currently working in a program that serves youth and have received approval from your organization that you are able to attend in-person for the full day on Tuesday, October 14th).

We look forward to learning with you!

[REX]

Explore the actions you can take to respond to anti-Black racism at YouthREX’s upcoming free train-the-trainer workshop!

Each of YouthREX’s 16 Call-In-Cards for Anti-Black Racism Action presents a real-world scenario and four reflective prompts, designed to encourage self-reflection, collective learning, and meaningful action. Each card explores issues such as power, identity, language, belonging, and accountability.

On October 14, 2025, we’re excited to host an in-person train-the-trainer workshop on how to use the Call-In-Cards to facilitate dialogues that connect understandings of anti-Black racism to anti-Black racism practice.

The workshop will take place from 9:30AM to 3:30PM ET at York University, and will feature a session with Dr. Carol Wade on how critical self-reflexivity about the 16 scenarios can lead to the identification of gaps and opportunities to support the ongoing work of combatting anti-Black racism.

Apply by September 30th to join us! All costs for refreshments, lunch, and a physical Call-In-Cards pouch are covered. (To be eligible, you must be currently working in a program that serves youth and have received approval from your organization that you are able to attend in-person for the full day on Tuesday, October 14th).

We look forward to learning with you!

[REX]

In Module 1, Nene Kwasi Kefele situates us in the historical and contextual realities of Black/African Canadians, including the story of Mathieu da Costa (1604)—an interpreter between the Mi’kmaq and the French, and one of the earliest recorded Black presences in what is now Canada. If this history exists, and is foundational—why isn’t it commonly taught, named, or visible in our public memory? What does it mean for our identities, our institutions, and our practices when stories like these are omitted or only partially told?

[Kathe]

FREE YOUTHREX WEBINAR ON SEPTEMBER 25TH! 🙌

Join Dr. Svetlana Jovič from the State University of New York at Old Westbury as she shares insights from her research on socio-cognitive development among youth growing up in contexts of inequity. Svetlana explores how young people ‘story’ their experiences and how shifting perspectives in narrative research can uncover voices that are often silenced. (You can check out some of her work on YouthREX’s Knowledge Hub!)

You’ll be invited to reflect on the power of multi-voiced narratives for youth work practice, policy, and research, and how storytelling can not only be used as a tool for understanding youth, but as a resource for fostering equity and wellbeing.

I’m excited for this conversation and hope you’ll register to join us from 12PM to 1:30PM ET next Thursday, September 25th!

[Gary A]

The Anti-Hero’s Intervention

The air on the Finch West bus was thick with the humid promise of a Toronto summer evening in 2006. Our anti-hero stood near the rear exit, his gaze soft but steady as he watched a group of teenagers board at Jane Street. They moved as one organism, loud, kinetic, a jumble of nervous energy and bravado. One of them, a lanky kid who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, bumped hard into an older man, knocking the man’s newspaper to the floor. “Watch it,” the man grumbled, glaring. The kid squared his shoulders, his friends snickering behind him. “You got a problem?”

The tension coiled instantly. It was a scene our anti-hero had witnessed a dozen times, a trivial slight ready to ignite into something much worse. This was the precipice, the exact moment where a single, egoic choice could alter a life’s trajectory. Before the man could retort, our anti-hero stepped forward, his presence calm and unassuming. He bent down, picked up the newspaper, and handed it to the man with a nod. Then he turned to the teenager. He didn’t lecture or challenge. He just met his eyes. “Tough day?” he asked, his voice low and even. The kid was thrown off. The script in his head didn’t have a line for this. “What’s it to you?” he mumbled, the aggression draining from his posture, replaced by a flicker of confusion. “Just that you look like you’re carrying a lot,” our anti-hero said, holding his gaze for a second longer. “I get it.” He offered a small, almost imperceptible nod, then moved away, giving them space. The moment was over. The conflict was defused. It wasn’t magic; it was a methodology. For our anti-hero, peace had never been a passive wish. It was an active, teachable skill, and its foundation was the simple, profound act of seeing the person in front of him.

Our anti-hero’s own story was forged in the crucible of otherness, and unbeknownst to him, this engagement was a precursor to his future work with a youth gang exit project not far from where this all took place. He’d grown up in a different city, one where the chasm between small town and big city tipping points was always a whisper’s echo away. He’d seen friends treated as problems to be solved rather than as people with potential. His own path could have easily mirrored theirs, but a series of almost supernatural interventions, combined with athletics, music, and the kindness of pale-skinned mentors, had changed everything. That experience became the cornerstone of his work, crystallizing into core principles that drove his not-for-profit leaders, Tao; the hunger for respect was a primary human driver, while power imbalances are inevitable, abuse of power and accepting powerlessness are choices, and finally influence and power is not for personal gain, but to empower communities and the people who call their community home.

When the time came for him to work in the field, he was denied. But not long after, he was given his chance with an employment opportunity. He took the opportunity and lived in his car until his first pay, showering at a nearby community center during morning swim, then moving into a hotel/motel when he could afford it, and moving between motels and sleeping curled up in a driver’s seat tucked away in a plaza or side street for months until he could afford a place to live. But remember, being powerless can be a choice to some. He was lucky to be one of the ‘some,’ so he was not powerless, he was alchemy to power he would later use to inspire a mother who couldn’t pay rent, the participant who needed groceries, or the young man who needed emergency dental work. Our anti-hero never forgot those struggles, and knew for some people what he had the privilege of calling struggle was their harsh reality, and it was during these cold winter nights, his heart was forged to be present until a young person was an older person and let him know “thank you, but I got it from here.”

• This discussion was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Gary A Newman.
• This discussion was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Gary A Newman.

[REX]

• Reflecting on your learning, which assumptions about cannabis, users, or communities have been challenged, and what did that reveal about your practice?

[REX]

What challenges have you encountered when integrating new knowledge from the certificate into your practice? How have you addressed them, or what support would help?

[REX]

We’d love your feedback. As you’ve engaged with the Call-In-Cards during the workshops, which activities or scenarios have been most impactful? How have they influenced your understanding, reflection, or practice related to addressing anti-Black racism?

• This discussion was modified 1 week, 5 days ago by  REX Virtual Cafe.

[REX]

This prompt invites youth sector professionals to reflect on how their programs and practices are accountable to the lived experiences of Black youth, rather than only following institutional policies. It encourages thinking about inclusion, equity, and youth-led design in services and initiatives.

• This discussion was modified 1 week ago by  REX Virtual Cafe.

[REX]

Decentering the harm of ABR by reflecting on revolution.

• This discussion was modified 1 week, 5 days ago by  REX Virtual Cafe.

[mogbeyi]

A moment I’ll never forget is when a young person transferred into my care at 18, and I began supporting him as his Primary Case Worker. When he first arrived, he relied mainly on gestures, so I respected that while gradually reintroducing PECs. Over time, he grew more confident, and the plan is to introduce more advanced means of communication as the next step.

Community outings became a turning point. On his first bus ride, he froze when it was time to exit. I paused, realized he needed more preparation, and from then on explained how many stops were left and let him choose how to leave.

Later, I worked with his family and the school board to ensure he could continue in school, as Ontario allows students with special needs to remain until 21. This moment still lives with me because it showed me how small adjustments can create big changes.

[REX]

Mogbeyi 💛 Wow, thank you for sharing this.

The way you met him where he was, supported his voice, and worked with his family and school is so inspiring.

It really shows how patience and small, intentional steps can open up big possibilities for young people.

Stories like this remind us why this work matters and keep us grounded in what true support looks like.

• This reply was modified 1 week, 5 days ago by  REX Virtual Cafe.

[Linda]

Program evaluation have have a profound effect on improving youth programs because it asks questions related to what is working/not working, how are these outcomes achieved, and ultimately what are the service gaps that need to be paid attention to. It is vital that youth programs collect data that provides more information on the efficacy of the program so that youth receiving the best possible care needed and that programs have an opportunity to expand based on that data and feedback.

[REX]

Thank you for sharing these insights. Certainly- program evaluation is the essential for understanding what works , what does not and improving outcomes for the youth. Collecting and analyzing data not only ensures that youth receive the best possible support but also allows programs to grow and adapt.

[REX]

Dear Saima- Thank you for raising and highlighting these concerns. You’ve highlighted a critical gap in youth workforce development, particularly in skilled trades. From a program and policy perspective, structured evaluations of apprenticeship availability, employer practices, and youth outcomes are essential to inform systemic improvements. Evidence-based approaches could guide the development of more equitable pathways, including stronger partnerships between post-secondary institutions, employers, and regulatory bodies to ensure consistent access and supportive environments for apprentices. Addressing these gaps is not only vital for youth well-being but broader economic stability for all.

[REX]

Anshdeep- Thank you for sharing, indeed evaluation goes beyond reporting outcomes and becomes a tool for continuous learning and growth. It allows youth programs to listen, reflect, and adapt, ensuring that they are responsive to the needs of the youth they serve.

[REX]

Thank you so much for sharing- combining research with the voices of Black youth is crucial for understanding the real impacts of anti-Black racism. Adding that aspect of humanism in data and research – that is often abstract.

• This reply was modified 1 week, 5 days ago by  REX Virtual Cafe.

[REX]

Kiera- thank you for sharing these insights; making research on anti-Black racism visible and accessible is a powerful way to spark reflection, dialogue, and collaboration. Highlighting the systemic impacts not only on Black youth and their families but on society as a whole can help engage those who may not yet recognize the depth of these issues. Your points underscore the importance of using evidence to drive awareness and meaningful change.

[REX]

Kamini- Thank you for sharing these thoughtful reflections; bringing these conversations into workplaces and creating accessible educational initiatives is essential. Your insights on supporting professionals to understand racialized trauma and implement meaningful anti-Black racism practices are especially valuable, and highlight important next steps for creating real, systemic change.

[REX]

Dear Samantha– really appreciate your reflection—it highlights an important distinction between listening to youth and truly engaging with their expertise. I think the emphasis on not just modifying existing systems, but imagining services designed for Black youth from the ground up, is critical.

To add to your point, I think part of moving beyond listening is creating structured opportunities for youth to co-create and lead, whether through advisory councils, mentorship programs, or collaborative projects. It’s not just about asking what they need, but actively supporting them to design, implement, and sustain programs that reflect their vision and cultural realities. This makes inclusion and equity tangible, not theoretical. Thank you so much, once again.

[REX]

Kerry- I love the focus on Youth-Adult Partnerships and culturally affirming spaces. To build on that, I think we also need to embed accountability and reflection into these programs—for both youth and adults. For example, creating spaces where adults learn from youth experiences and where youth are supported to give feedback that shapes program policies.

We could also explore mentorship networks that connect Black youth to leaders in their communities and industries, so pathways to leadership and entrepreneurship aren’t just theoretical, but tangible and supported. This way, inclusion becomes part of the program design itself, rather than an afterthought.

[REX]

Hi Mogbeyi,

Thank you so much for this thoughtful reflection on the Call-In-Cards. You’ve really captured their purpose—especially the importance of the “call-in” approach for fostering learning, growth, and meaningful dialogue around ABR.

I’m curious—have you had a chance to lead any activities using the Call-In-Cards yet, or plan to in the future? We’d love to hear how they’ve been received in practice and any insights from facilitating those conversations.

[REX]

Mogbeyi! What an amazing response, thank you for sharing your journey with the work that you do. We are just wondering if you have been able to use the call in cards lately for any facilitations, or if you have introduced a colleague , a friend to the Call in Cards? Please do share with us!

[REX]

Caitlin 💛 , thank you for sharing it with us.
I love how you capture that mix of joy, community, and resilience, from the picnic in the rain to the makeshift photoshoot.
It’s such a powerful reminder of how youth work is about heart, creativity, and holding space for each other, even while we’re navigating our own journeys.
Your reflection really shows the brilliance of Jane-Finch and Rexdale and why this work matters so deeply.