When father doesn’t know best

I’m a father. My children are 12 and 9.

I don’t know what it’s like to have my kids taken from me.

I don't know what it’s like to have them removed from our home and sent to a place where they were forbidden to speak their language or practice their culture. A place where they normalized nightmarish emotional and physical abuse, bullying, deprivation, and death.

I don’t know what it’s like to be abandoned and betrayed by the government.

And I don’t know or understand the true history of our country.

What I now know is that for more than a century, 150,000 First Nations, Métis, and Inuit kids were subjected to residential schools where the prime directive was assimilation.

I now know that we have a responsibility to seek out, understand and acknowledge the truth. And that everyone in Canada can contribute to reconciliation.

And I know that on this Father’s Day (and every day), it’s not good enough to teach our kids what our fathers taught us.

It’s far more important we teach them the things they didn’t.

Please read.

Please listen.

Please give.

-Jeff Sage is a resident of London, Ontario.

Graduating during Covid

Graduating during COVID-19 is a weird experience. There was very little celebration on the last day of class, I remember that I had biology and when the lesson ended I thanked her for all that she has done during the past 2 years that I have had her as a teacher and then I closed my computer. There wasn't any yelling in the halls or high-fives, I simply closed my computer and had lunch. My emotions that day were fairly neutral and the rest of the day was insignificant as I carried out the same routine that I have been doing for months at this point. I think that all the other students agree with me in saying that we are all looking forward to university where we can make up for the lost social interactions and events that were cancelled because of Covid.

Everybody I talk to isn't focussed on what we missed out on in the last year of high school, but rather what is to come in university. It's almost like missing the last year of high school has amplified all the excitement of going off to university. That being said, I think it's safe to say that everybody in my grade is saddened and a little frustrated that we couldn't have our final prom, or go to school sports events, it definitely feels as though the social part of high school is missing, and there is nothing we can do to have a similar experience to those in the past. 

To be frank, there aren't any substitutes that could fulfill an in-person graduation or grad party. There have been some parties hosted by students in my grade, however, they are unsafe and have caused a significant amount of Covid cases. If it weren't for the risk I would have gone but I can't put my family in that situation. I am lucky in that I have made friends with the people in my neighbourhood and we can hang out and socialize, however, some of my classmates don't have the luxury of spending time with friends and have gone into depressive states.

In summary, there isn't really any substitute for our graduation being cancelled by Covid and some members of my class are truly struggling to cope with this reality. That's why I think it's important to routinely check-in and talk to people that you haven't seen in person for some time, if they aren't doing so well mentally you should try and help them cope with what they are going through. 

-Sean Lizzola | Sean is 18 and recently graduated from Upper Canada College in Toronto. Sean is the grand-nephew of Sister Ann Marshall, CSJ.

Amnesty International: 60 Years of Humanity in Action

60 years ago, on May 28, 1961, the worldwide movement for human rights that is now Amnesty International was born.

A few weeks earlier, British lawyer Peter Benenson was on a commuter train heading into London when he read a news story about two Portuguese students who were sent to prison for several years just for having raised a toast to freedom in a restaurant. Outraged at this injustice, when he disembarked from the train Benenson went into the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields near Trafalgar Square and prayed for guidance. The inspiration for what was to become the world’s largest grassroots human rights movement was born.

On May 28, 1961, The London Observer published an article on their front page written by Peter Benenson titled “The Forgotten Prisoners” which launched the “Appeal for Amnesty 1961” – a campaign calling for the release of all people imprisoned in various parts of the world because of the peaceful expression of their beliefs.

In the article, Benenson made the case for the students’ release and urged readers to write letters of protest to the Portuguese government. The article also drew attention to the variety of human rights violations taking place around the world and coined the term “prisoners of conscience” to describe “any person who is physically restrained (by imprisonment or otherwise) from expressing … any opinion which he honestly holds and does not advocate or condone personal violence.”

Reprinted in newspapers around the world, Benenson’s campaign for amnesty received hundreds of offers of support. In July 1961, delegates from Belgium, the United Kingdom, France, the United States, Germany, Ireland, and Switzerland met to begin “a permanent international movement in defense of freedom of opinion and religion.” The following year, this movement would officially become the human rights organization Amnesty International.

Amnesty International took its mandate from the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which was adopted in 1948, which holds that all people have fundamental rights that transcend national, cultural, religious, and ideological boundaries.

The Canadian Section of Amnesty International was officially incorporated in 1973, but there were Amnesty activists in this country almost from the moment the movement was born globally.

60 years later, on this May 28, more than 10 million people in over 150 countries around the world are part of the Amnesty International movement. Amnesty members believe that all people in our world – regardless of who they are, where they were born, the language they speak, their spiritual beliefs, their age, or gender – are deserving of the same human rights. They also believe that there is something each one of us can do to take action to improve the lives of people experiencing human rights violations.

The Sisters of St. Joseph in London have been stalwart supporters of, and partners in, Amnesty International’s work for justice and dignity for all people for decades.  

Sisters work on writing Amnesty Letters

Over the past several years, the financial and spiritual support from the Sisters of St. Joseph has been instrumental in advancing Amnesty International’s work in solidarity with Indigenous Peoples and communities in Canada.  In 2004, the Sisters of St. Joseph provided the funding needed for our first research project on the national crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls. Our first report, Stolen Sisters, published in 2004, and the follow-up No More Stolen Sisters in 2009, were instrumental in our work in solidarity with Indigenous communities in demanding a national inquiry and national action plan for this human rights crisis.

The compassionate and caring support from the Sisters of St. Joseph for individuals like Maher Arar and his family, after his return to Canada from Syria where he had been tortured and imprisoned for more than a year, were remarkable. Your constant interest in the case of Omar Khadr was also notable.

More recently, generous contributions from the Community of the Sisters of St. Joseph have funded urgent work on refugees, crisis work in Yemen and Syria, advocating for the Uyghurs held in prison camps in China, and much more. The Sisters of St. Joseph have helped protect the rights of protestors in Hong Kong, helped outlaw child marriage in Burkina Faso, helped educate the next generation of activists in South East Asia, and helped free unjustly detained human rights defenders like Loujain Al-Hathloul in Saudi Arabia, imprisoned solely for her advocacy for women’s rights in that country.

Amnesty International is only able to do our human rights work with the activism and support of extraordinary donors like the Community of the Sisters of St. Joseph in the Diocese of London.

We send our heartfelt thanks for your partnership in our shared goal of a world with more justice and dignity for all people. We look forward to working with you over the next 60 years!

With heartfelt appreciation from all of us at Amnesty International.

A Man of Integrity

People in South Africa celebrate Freedom Day on April 27 to commemorate the first democratic post-apartheid non-racial elections that were held on the day in 1994 and saw Nelson Mandela elected.  On 10 May this anti-apartheid activist, lawyer, and former political prisoner was inaugurated as President of South Africa. 

Photo: Matthew Willman

My friend Matthew Willman, a renowned South African photographer, is known for his amazing photos of President Mandela.  One day, while visiting his friend Madiba, he was inspired to ask if he could take his red office chair out into an open field. In the photo he took out in the field you can see children run by the chair into the distance, to symbolize the impact Mandela would have on future generations of South Africans.  What might these children, now adults, most remember about the great Mandela? This well-known story, shared many times on social media and elsewhere, illustrates what made this exceptional man so great.

“After I became president, I asked one day some members of my close protection to stroll with me in the city, have lunch at one of its restaurants. We sat in one of the downtown restaurants and all of us asked for some sort of food… After a while, the waiter brought us our requests, I noticed that there is someone sitting in front of my table waiting for food. I told them one of the soldiers: Go and ask that person to join us with his food and eat with us. The soldier went and asked the man, so the man brought up his food and sat by my side as I asked and began to eat. His hands were trembling constantly until everyone had finished their food and the man went.

“Go and ask that person to join us with his food and eat with us”

The soldier said to me: the man was apparently quite sick. His hands trembled as he ate!! “No, not at all,” said Mandela. “This man was the guard of the prison where I was jailed. Often, after the torture I was subjected to, I used to scream and ask for a little water. The very same man used to come every time and urinated on my head instead.”

Credit: South Africa Archives Online

So, I found him scared, trembling, expecting me to reciprocate now, at least in the same way, either by torturing him or imprisoning him as I am now the President of the State of South Africa…

But this is not my character nor part of my ethics.” (SoulAlchemy Facebook)

Every year on 18 July, we mark Nelson Mandela International Day not only to commemorate this great man but to emulate his amazing accomplishments by making a difference in our own communities. Perhaps we are not as magnanimous as Mandela as depicted in the story above, but we all have the ability and responsibility to change the world for the better, especially during this pandemic.

-Sister Magdalena Vogt, cps

JAZZ and the Spiritual

International Jazz Day | April 30, 2021

I was recently asked to contemplate the connection between Jazz and the Spiritual.  Here are some of my musings.  I decided to make a list of words that came up for me when I thought of what both Jazz and the Spiritual had in common – mystery, trust, and faith.   As I pondered each of these words more and let their meaning sink in, I felt a few other words rise to the top as well which seemed to enhance these three keywords. From these words, the following thoughts emerged.

As a jazz vocalist who primarily works in the setting of a trio or quartet, I love the ability to move freely in a group formation.  This collective of individuals holds the framework of great trust and allows each of the players to exist as part of and yet, apart from the whole, thereby being able to explore many boundaries. When I am engaged in singing a song in this setting, I can improvise and totally be in the moment because I have faith in my fellow musicians, faith in their ability, commitment, and skill.  There is still a deep connection to what I call “the original thought” or “theme” of a song.  This original thought or theme is always at the core of musical expression in jazz and is understood by all members of this musical collective, yet it is interpreted differently by each member.  Because of these elements in a performance, the end result is always somewhat of a mystery as we are each interpreting the blueprint of the original song in myriad, subtle ways.

“Music, like God, is a phenomenon that is hard to “understand” on an intellectual plane.”

To me, this seems quite similar to how each of us embraces spirituality.  There is a deep sense that we are all part of one body, one giant, universal collective, yet each of us hears the mystery of the divine voice in different and unique ways.  To function as a whole, we must learn to trust each other and have faith in each other as well. 

Music, like God, is a phenomenon that is hard to “understand” on an intellectual plane.  I would say that music is best experienced by the senses, and as for God…perhaps faith could be seen as the sixth sense?  And in the trinity of my original, “root” words, perhaps if we trust in mystery, we experience faith?

-Adi Braun | www.adibraun.com

Born in Toronto, Adi Braun grew up in Europe surrounded by music and musicians. Her parents were opera singers, and her father, Victor Braun, was one of Canada’s leading baritones. Her first instrument was piano, which she began studying at the age of six. With no formal voice lessons, she made her first pop/jazz recording at age 19. Following family tradition, Adi trained classically at the Royal Conservatory of Music and the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Music. She began her singing career as a classical recitalist, a soloist with orchestra and on-stage in operas and operettas alongside her brother, baritone Russell Braun. In addition to her many musical roles, Adi teaches German art song at the Royal Conservatory of Music and is a German diction coach for the Canadian Opera Company.