Black immigrants are growing in numbers, but in the U.S. many often feel invisible

Of interest:

How you describe Hadley Park might depend on where you stand.

If you enter from the southeast corner, you’ll see a sweeping, tree-lined expanse — verdant in the summer, golden in the fall. Look northwest, and there’s the campus of Tennessee State University — a century-old historically Black university. Turn around, and you’ll see I-40, one of the highways separating North Nashville (traditionally, Black Nashville) from the rest of the city. Look down, and you’ll see ground that used to grow crops, back when Hadley Park was a plantation. Ground that used to stage tanks, during the Vietnam War. Ground where now, every summer, bare feet dance and libations spill out during the annual African Street Festival.

“This space is representative of Black Nashville in a lot of ways,” says Learotha Williams, as he walks through the fields. Williams, a public historian at TSU, says the park has meant many different things to different communities. Recently, there have been discussions about what to call it, since the park was likely named for John Hadley, the man who once owned the land and the people who worked on it. So, Williams says, “It’s a space of contested memories. A space that is transformative in many ways and is still undergoing a transformation.”

As is Nashville more broadly. All around the city, there are grand old buildings that were once plantation houses, overlooking fields where Black people tended cattle, milled grain, grew tobacco.

Nowadays, people don’t like to point that out all the time, says Williams. When you visit some of those former plantations, the presence of enslaved people “has been all but erased, to the point where they don’t even define them as being ‘slaves’ anymore. They call them servants.”

Williams describes this dynamic as a sort of “collective amnesia.” He understands there are people who may not want to dwell on the most painful parts of Nashville’s history. But skipping over that history is unhealthy, he says, “because the past gives you some identity. It connects you to a group, or to an event that can give you some idea about where you are currently, or how you get down and why you get down the way you get down.”

Williams has spent his career taking note of histories that are at risk of being buried — in Florida, where he’s from; in Georgia, where he’s worked; and now in Tennessee, his home for many years. Like with those plantation houses. If you look closely at the bricks they’re built from, you’ll see indentations that look suspiciously like fingerprints. “Because that’s what they are,” Williams says. “Fingerprints of the guys that made the bricks and laid them.” Reminders, almost imperceptible, that Black people were there — they lived, they toiled, they created and they survived.

In the generations since, Black people have continued to come to Nashville in waves. They came in search of freedom during the Civil War, when troops erected a Union stronghold at Fort Negley. Then again during the Great Migration, when folks from Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi sought work a bit farther north. And during the Civil Rights Movement, when young people saw the city as a battleground in the fight for integration.

More recently, a different cohort of Black folks have made Nashville, and other parts of Tennessee, their home — people who are emigrating. People from Somalia to Rwanda, Sudan to Ethiopia, Nigeria to Haiti have put down roots in Nashville. In total, 12% of the city is made up of immigrants, a large proportion of whom moved to the city after the year 2000.

But like previous generations of Black Tennesseans, Black immigrants sometimes have to fight to make their presence recognized.

Feeling invisible

Black immigrants all over the country have been referred to as “invisible immigrants.” Their numbers throughout the United States are growing significantly — today, 20% of all Black Americans are either immigrants or the children of immigrants. But they are rarely centered in national conversations around immigration policy. And even in smaller interactions, many Black immigrants talk about the ways that their cultures, identities and histories are sometimes rendered invisible — or worse.

Layla Ahmed is a political organizer and recent college graduate who grew up in Nashville; her family emigrated from Somalia. She says she enjoys asking people what they know about Somali culture but is disheartened, time and again, to hear people’s answers. Pirates, they usually say. “And maybe hunger. War. Terrorism.”

Duretti Ahmad is also from the Nashville area. She was born in the U.S., but her family is Ethiopian, and ethnically Oromo. She grew up connected to a sizable East African community, but as a student at Vanderbilt University, she said she’s sometimes made to feel like she’s alone. In most of her classes, she says, she rarely expects to see someone who shares her background: “Maybe [there will be] a Black person, but for it to be a Black Muslim woman? It’s like, wow, that’s a stretch.”

Maranjely Zapata lives in Knoxville, on the east side of Tennessee. She moved there from Honduras about eight years ago, when she was a teenager. Recently, she says, she had a conversation with someone who asked her where she was from. Her answer shocked him. “He was like, ‘There are Black people in Honduras?’ And my jaw just dropped. I was like, there are Black people everywhere. But some people really don’t know that.”

Interactions like that make Zapata want to talk about her identity even more — to educate people about Garifuna culture, and about Blackness more generally. But not everyone feels empowered to do that.

Niyokwizigigwa Athumani is a high school student living on the other side of the state, in Memphis. He was born in Rwanda and came to the U.S. as a young child. When he told other kids that he was African, he was bullied for it. “So I don’t really know what my cultural identity is,” he says. To try and fit in socially, he had to minimize that part of himself — to the point that he lost a part of himself: “I know I’m African and everything, but I want to be more.”

“I was hiding from my story”

Claude Gatebuke is also from Rwanda, but he came to Nashville three decades ago. Like others, he’s had plenty of experiences with his identity being dismissed, ignored or minimized.

Gatebuke was 16 when he started school in the U.S. Back then, he says, many of his friends had no idea he was Rwandan. “I mean, they knew I was from another country,” he says, “but they didn’t know which country I was from.”

And he wasn’t exactly rushing to correct the record. Gatebuke and his family had just been forced to flee the violence overtaking their home. So if his new friends weren’t asking questions about his past, he says, “I was OK with that. Because I was hiding from my story.”

Gatebuke had grown up a pretty carefree kid. Then, the war started. He remembers the night in April of 1994, when his mom got a call telling her that the president’s plane had been shot down. “And my response was, oh my God, I hope the president didn’t die, because if he died, we’re not going to be able to finish [my] soccer tournament.”

Soon, Kigali erupted in chaos. Gatebuke says panic swept through the city — and with it, violence. “Rwanda is a beautiful country — blue skies and everything. But during that time, the sky was covered with a big dark mushroom. And the stench, the mix of smoke, and decomposing human flesh made you want to throw up. I mean, I want to throw up now, thinking about it.”

Eventually, like more than a million others, Gatebuke and his family made the decision to flee from the genocide. That journey was its own trauma. At one checkpoint, Gatebuke says he was separated from his group and told to dig his own grave. By some miracle, Gatebuke made it through, eventually. The journey continued. Eventually, Gatebuke’s family reached Congo. Then, Kenya. Later, they made it to Nashville, where Gatebuke’s father was living as a student.

So there was good reason Claude wasn’t bringing up his past every day in the high school cafeteria. But that decision to stay quiet was complicated. He wasn’t just avoiding painful memories. He was also worried about the reaction he might get. He remembers once trying to share his story with a high school English teacher. It didn’t go well. Gatebuke says the teacher’s response was “‘I’ve never heard this before — this isn’t the official narrative.’ He said, ‘No, this can’t be true.'”

At the time, Gatebuke didn’t understand why he was being shut down. He thought it might be partly because his English was “really bad” back then. And partly because, back in 1996, information about the Rwandan genocide was not as widely available as it would be in years to come. But looking back, he says, he thinks his race was a factor. “Because I’m just not sure that somebody from Ukraine today would come and tell a story and somebody would say, ‘This isn’t what’s happening.'”

Gatebuke says that after almost three decades of experiencing life in the U.S. as a Black man, he finds himself better able to connect the dots between that moment and a broader social dynamic.

“For many years, [African Americans have] talked about things like police brutality, racial profiling, you know. All of those things that I experienced, that I lived through, and that are traumatic. And America didn’t believe it until phone cameras came along, and then America acted like, ‘Oh, this is bad. This just started.’ But the only thing that started was filming it.”

The incident in high school was just one moment in a long, painful tradition, he says. “The dismissing of a story because the person just happens to be from a background that isn’t associated with credibility? That is a thing in America.”

Williams, the historian, echoed the sentiment. He said that Black people have been speaking out about violence they’ve experienced at the hands of police and the state, from Frederick Douglass to Fred Hampton to Freddie Gray. The violence, he says, “is not an aberration. It’s a feature of our society. Just the same way that the denial that it has occurred is a feature.”

So, Williams says, Black communities “have been residents of the city since its founding. But oftentimes it feels like we are some of its most unwelcomed residents. At times, some of its most despised residents.”

And, he says, “In many ways, we’re still kind of invisible.”

Connecting through storytelling

But many Black Tennesseans are finding ways to feel seen — if not by the broader society, then at least by each other. One of the most powerful tools for that has been storytelling.

Nkechinyelum Chioneso is an assistant professor of psychology at Florida A&M University. She says that when people with related histories share their experiences with each other, “it allows private pain to come out into the public domain. And when it’s in the public domain, you then develop the ability to have a more critical lens about what it is you’re experiencing. And you begin to see that it’s not just me — it’s not my deficiency.” That understanding, she says, is an opening to look at the broader external dynamics that have shaped a group’s experiences — and to begin to reshape them.

Chioneso, who has written about how storytelling can lead to community healing, argues that forming connections and resisting oppression are both critical elements of resisting racial trauma.

And they’re both methods that some Black immigrants in Tennessee have started leaning toward organically.

Like Layla Ahmed. As a college student, she decided to do a project on the trope of the Somali pirate. In doing that research, she learned more about her own culture and identity, and the forces that push certain communities into certain roles. She’s since used that knowledge to start telling a different story about Somali people. “I wouldn’t say I’m confrontational,” she says, “but I like talking with people and dismantling their beliefs that they already have.”

After graduating from college, Ahmed began working at the Tennessee Immigrant & Refugee Rights Coalition. There, she digs deep into the resistance part — her work is largely about organizing voters to resist discriminatory immigration policies.

Storytelling — and resistance — have also transformed Gatebuke’s life. When he was in college in the late 1990s, Gatebuke says he was still mostly ignoring his feelings — “I was a lost, broken Black boy.”

But one day, he stumbled upon a children’s biography of Frederick Douglass. That story changed the way Gatebuke thought about his own. He says he was fascinated by Douglass’ story, but it also made him ashamed. Someone with so little had used his words to fight against slavery. Meanwhile, Gatebuke felt like he was often just floating through life without engaging too deeply.

So he decided, slowly, to change that. By sharing his story more publicly — with some friends, then at local campus events — Gatebuke thought he might be able to help people better understand how war upends people’s lives — children’s lives. Talking was terrifying at first.

But the more he opened up, the more he met people who connected with what he was saying. Maybe they were from a different background, but they had stories, too.

And that storytelling has ballooned into something even greater. Gatebuke now runs the African Great Lakes Action Network, an organization founded on the idea that sharing testimony is crucial in the fight for justice. And he recently co-edited a book called Survivors Uncensored, where he and more than a hundred other Rwandans shared their testimony. He hopes that even more people will share their stories.

“Their story doesn’t have to be like mine,” he says. “But there are many of us who have healed by sharing and by sharing our stories … and the price of not doing it is so much heavier than the pain of actually getting it done. And why carry the burden?

Source: Black immigrants are growing in numbers, but in the U.S. many often feel invisible

Patrick Luciani: You don’t have to be a conservative to be anti-woke

Provocative but needed reminder of the importance of class, rather than just identity and intersectionality. My experience with analysing and discussing birth tourism indicates that many academics and activists have forgotten the importance of class with respect to birth tourists who are among the more affluent given the travel, medical and related costs of being a birth tourist:

When philosopher Susan Neiman decided to write Left Is Not Woke, friends warned her to avoid the word “Woke” in the title. They were concerned it might be taken as a move to the political Right and push her into the camp of Ron DeSantis, Rishi Sunak, or even Eric Zemmour in France. I suspect they were more worried that any attack on wokeness might mean banishment or cancellation by a political movement with all the characteristics of a religious cult. Neiman agonized over the title but stressed in the book that she was still a card-carrying socialist with all the proper credentials. But even that would not have spared her grief and ostracization if she were teaching at a North American university. She is safe for the time being teaching in Germany. 

Most attacks on woke ideology usually come from the defenders of classical liberalism, such as Francis Fukuyama, who stresses free speech, the evils of cancel culture, and policies that relentlessly push the trinity of diversity, inclusiveness, and equity. Professor Neiman now confronts wokeness from the Left and how it has broken with traditional socialist ideals of universality, justice, and progress. Neiman isn’t willing to accept the suggestion that you aren’t Left if you’re not woke.

Her first concern is that wokeism has gone off the rails by abandoning the universal principle of worker solidarity. That concept was too general for today’s politically sensitive crowd. Wokeness pushed the idea that unfair treatment of minorities and the powerless had to be fought at the micro level of society. Throw in the concept of intersectionality and political oppression is now supercharged. It is no longer a question of traditional domination of the proletariat by the bourgeoisie. The hierarchy of power dynamics now includes men oppressing women, straight over gays, Whites dominating Blacks, White women over women of colour, the abled over disabled people, ad infinitum. A few years ago, American Black students at Cornell University demanded preferential treatment over foreign Black students since the latter represented a higher proportion of spots on campus. Any group or tribe can claim a special status regarding policies on compensation for past discrimination and grievances. The only groups that don’t qualify in this hierarchy of oppression are Jews, Asians, and rich men who are White. 

Woke thinking compartmentalizes groups according to their identity rather than class oppression. Wokism breaks this connection by moving us into tribes disconnected from each other. And since everyone can claim membership to one group or another, most can claim victimhood. 

Second, Neiman condemns woke attacks on enlightenment thinking. The Enlightenment wasn’t a Eurocentric invention of White men to oppress and justify the subjugation of other nations but a way to use reason to move away from religious and superstitious beliefs that held humans from their full potential. Enlightenment thinkers were some of the harshest critics of colonialism and slavery, including Rousseau, Diderot, and Immanuel Kant. Kant’s teaching was universal when he said that humans should never be treated as a means to an end. The Black scholar Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò—no apologist for the Enlightenment—insists we put Enlightenment ideas in their proper historical context. As he says, ideas must be historicized, not racialized. He even refers to the prominent anti-colonialist Frantz Fanon, who wrote, “The elements for the solution to the major problems of humanity existed at one time, or another in European thought.”

Her final objection to wokeism is the movement’s influence by the work of Michel Foucault and his concepts of power, progress, and truth. Foucault, considered the godfather of wokeism, promoted that power is the defining force between all human interactions and that truth is a naïve conviction of no value. Foucault had a profound contempt for reason and the notion that there was any improvement or progress in social interactions, an idea contrary to socialist thought. Even Noam Chomsky believed that Foucault was thoroughly amoral in his thinking. That isn’t hard to believe, knowing that Foucault endorsed sex between children and adults. For the Left, reason and freedom would liberate humans from superstition, prejudice, poverty, and fear. Foucault had no such faith. 

Professor Neiman has written a brave book against a philosophy cutting through our cultural institutions. And she is right in her criticism. Finding a government, university, or major corporation that doesn’t follow a hiring policy dictated by woke protocol is almost impossible.  

Liberalism was about centring the individual with freedom in personal affairs and commerce. Socialism added rights and entitlement to housing, education, health care, and a decent wage. Wokeness is about victims and victimhood with claims on society’s resources for past and present injustices. Who determines the injustices and compensation? Those are questions we aren’t allowed to ask. But the pushback is out there, and not just from Florida. 

Source: Patrick Luciani: You don’t have to be a conservative to be anti-woke

Australia: Federal multicultural review to examine diversity in the public service

Header focus more narrow than actual review:

The federal government will examine the effectiveness of federal diversity, equity and inclusion strategies in the public service, as part of a multicultural framework review announced on Friday night.

The review will, more broadly, look at whether existing Commonwealth institutional arrangements and policy settings support an inclusive multicultural society, and make recommendations.

Australian Multicultural Foundation executive director and company secretary Dr Bulent Hass Dellal AO will serve as chair.

Speaking at the launch event in Sydney, Minister for Immigration, Citizenship and Multicultural Affairs Andrew Giles said the review was about “enhancing the capacity of government agencies and service providers to respond to the needs of our multicultural communities”.

Mr Giles said that work had already begun in the Department of Home Affairs to better respond to the needs of multicultural communities, noting that the Multicultural Affairs team had moved from the Countering Foreign Interference division and into the Immigration section.

“The change, though it may seem bureaucratic to some, is symbolic of the role of Multicultural Affairs under an Albanese Labor Government,” he said.

“A portfolio that, at its core, should be about embracing those who have settled in Australia, rather than focusing on who we want to keep out.”

Human rights advocate and former refugee Nyadol Nyuon OAM and Multicultural Australia chief executive officer Christine Castley will also co-author the review.

Panellist Ms Castley said she looked forward to taking part in the review, which falls 50 years after the first multiculturalism policy paper was published under the Whitlam government.

“I am genuinely excited to be a part in this once-in-a-generation opportunity to take an open and honest look at how we ensure genuine inclusion, tackle systemic barriers and engage in the robust conversations we need to have if we are to move forward as a stronger, better, fairer and more inclusive nation,” Ms Castley said.

The panel will be supported by a reference group, which includes former Australian rules footballer Bachar Houli, Multicultural Youth Advocacy national manager Rana Ebrahimi, and Tasmania Australian of the Year John Kamara.

Mr Giles accused the former Coalition government of promoting “fearmongering and division surrounding multicultural Australians”, and said the review was a “concrete step towards an inclusive country”.

“Under their watch, a fragmented and inconsistent approach to engaging with CALD communities saw failures to translate vital health information during the pandemic, and government support and grant programs inaccessible to emerging migrant groups,” he said, in a statement leading up to the review’s launch.

The review is due to deliver its final report with recommendations to the minister by March 2024.

Source: Federal multicultural review to examine diversity in the public service

Black men were likely underdiagnosed with lung problems because of bias in software, study suggests

Of note (I have done the pulmonary function test as part of my cancer treatments but was completely unaware of the algorithms involved but I could sense the difference between two tests about a year apart):

Racial bias built into a common medical test for lung function is likely leading to fewer Black patients getting care for breathing problems, a study published Thursday suggests. 

As many as 40% more Black male patients in the study might have been diagnosed with breathing problems if current diagnosis-assisting computer software was changed, the study said. 

Doctors have long discussed the potential problems caused by race-based assumptions that are built into diagnostic software. This study, published in JAMA Network Open, offers one of the first real-world examples of how the the issue may affect diagnosis and care for lung patients, said Dr. Darshali Vyas, a pulmonary care doctor at Massachusetts General Hospital.

The results are “exciting” to see published but it’s also “what we’d expect” from setting aside race-based calculations, said Vyas, who was an author of an influential 2020 New England Journal of Medicine article that catalogued examples of how race-based assumptions are used in making doctors’ decisions about patient care.

For centuries, some doctors and others have held beliefs that there are natural racial differences in health, including one that Black people’s lungs were innately worse than those of white people. That assumption ended up in modern guidelines and algorithms for assessing risk and deciding on further care. Test results were adjusted to account for — or “correct” for — a patient’s race or ethnicity. 

One example beyond lung function is a heart failure risk-scoring system that categorizes Black patients as being at lower risk and less likely to need referral for special cardiac care. Another is an equation used in determining kidney function that creates estimates of higher kidney function in Black patients.

The new study focused on a test to determine how much and how quickly a person can inhale and exhale. It’s often done using a spirometer — a device with a mouthpiece connected to a small machine. 

After the test, doctors get a report that has been run through computer software and scores the patient’s ability breathe. It helps indicate whether a patient has restrictions and needs further testing or care for things like asthma, chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder or lung scarring due to air pollutant exposure. 

Algorithms that adjust for race raise the threshold for diagnosing a problem in Black patients and may make them less likely to get started on certain medications or to be referred for medical procedures or even lung transplants, Vyas said.

While physicians also look at symptoms, lab work, X-rays and family histories of breathing problems, the pulmonary function testing can be an important part of diagnoses, “especially when patients are borderline,” said Dr. Albert Rizzo, the chief medical officer at the American Lung Association. 

The new study looked at more than 2,700 Black men and 5,700 white men tested by University of Pennsylvania Health System doctors between 2010 and 2020. The researchers looked at spirometry and lung volume measurements and assessed how many were deemed to have breathing impairments under the race-based algorithm as compared to under a new algorithm.

Researchers concluded there would be nearly 400 additional cases of lung obstruction or impairment in Black men with the new algorithm.

Earlier this year, the American Thoracic Society, which represents lung-care doctors, issued a statement recommending replacement of race-focused adjustments. But the organization also put a call out for more research, including into the best way to modify software and whether making a change might inadvertently lead to overdiagnosis of lung problems in some patients.

Vyas noted some other algorithms have already been changed to drop race-based assumptions, including one for pregnant women that predicts risks of vaginal delivery if the mom previously had a cesarean section.

Changing the lung-testing algorithm may take longer, Vyas said, especially if different hospitals use different versions of race-adjusting procedures and software. 

Source: Black men were likely underdiagnosed with lung problems because of bias in software, study suggests

B.C. creates anti-racism data committee, releases research priorities

Reasonable research priorities:

The British Columbia government has released 12 priorities for anti-racism research in its first update since the Anti-Racism Data Act came into effect last June.

The province says the focus will be in areas such as racial diversity within the public service, interactions with the justice system and how health care and education differs for various demographic groups.

The act allows for the safe collection and use of personal information for the purposes of identifying and eliminating systemic racism, and requires the province to release statistics annually while establishing research priorities every two years.

Attorney General Niki Sharma says the priorities for 2023 to 2025 were identified by people of various racialized groups and will provide “a road map for how government can meaningfully improve services” for them.

The province has also released its first-year progress report outlining the work done under the act, including the creation of an 11-person anti-racism data committee appointed last September.

Mable Elmore, the parliamentary secretary for anti-racism initiatives, says the province will also develop “broader anti-racism legislation,” which is expected to be introduced next year.

“The work we’re doing not only outlines a path forward, but it illustrates our commitment to transparency and collaboration every step of the way as we work together to eliminate systemic racism,” she told a news conference Monday.

“The next step is to move us beyond identifying barriers and to hold governments accountable.”

June Francis, chair of the anti-racism data committee, said she welcomes updated legislation, but hopes the government begins taking action on anti-racism initiatives now.

“I think that there is no reason for all … governments to not take action. These 12 areas will model, will work hard, will focus, but all governments should be paying attention and starting their own process of anti-racism and decolonization,” she said.

“There’s no reason to pause. I hope this will model the change, and that this change will trigger and ripple across all of government.”

Research priorities identified by the anti-racism data committee include:

1. Racial diversity within the B.C. Public Service;

2. Interactions with the justice system and analysis of complaints model;

3. Health outcomes and understanding of how the system is performing for different demographic groups;

4. Understanding how students across demographic groups access and use education supports and their outcomes;

5. Children, youth and family wellness at home and away from home;

6. Economic inclusion;

7. Homelessness, housing supply and security.

Research priorities identified by Indigenous Peoples:

1. Health outcomes for Indigenous Peoples to understand experiences from an intersectional and holistic perspective;

2. Education outcomes for First Nations, Métis and Inuit students from kindergarten to Grade 12 to understand experiences, including their access to and use of available supports;

3. Social determinants of safety from a holistic lens and fill related data gaps;

4. Commitment to advance the collection and use of disaggregated demographic data;

5. Conduct research in a way that acknowledges, respects and upholds the rights of Indigenous groups.

Source: B.C. creates anti-racism data committee, releases research priorities

IYMI: La diversité mise au ban de la magistrature québécoise 

Contrast between federal and provincial appointments of note:

Depuis l’arrivée de la Coalition avenir Québec au pouvoir en 2018, trois juges issus de « communautés culturelles » ont été nommés à la Cour du Québec sur un total de 63 nominations, révèle une compilation du Devoir. Même si ces données montrent une tendance légèrement à la baisse, le cabinet du ministre de la Justice se dit « très sensible à cette préoccupation ».

Quatre membres des communautés culturelles ont accédé à la fonction de juge en 2016-2017, la première année pour laquelle des données étaient disponibles. Mais depuis, leur nombre a chuté : il a atteint, au maximum, le chiffre de deux en 2020-2021. En 2019-2020 et 2021-2022, aucun juge issu de la diversité ne figurait parmi les 23 nominations à la Cour du Québec.

Au total, depuis l’élection du gouvernement Legault en octobre 2018, moins de 5 % des nominations du ministre de la Justice ont permis à des membres des communautés culturelles d’accéder aux plus hautes fonctions de la Cour du Québec.

Il est difficile, cependant, « d’établir avec certitude le nombre de juges ou candidats issus de la diversité », souligne le cabinet du ministre de la Justice, Simon Jolin-Barrette. Comme le relève également Martine L. Tremblay, juge en chef adjointe de la Cour du Québec (chambre civile), l’appartenance à ces communautés fait l’objet d’autodéclaration. « Par conséquent, ces données ne peuvent être considérées comme entièrement fiables », fait valoir le cabinet.

La juge Tremblay se questionne aussi sur la notion de communauté culturelle, soit l’attribut de la case à sélectionner lors des candidatures. « Est-ce que ce sont les immigrants de première génération, est-ce que ce sont les Juifs, est-ce que ce sont les anglophones ? La juge Peggy Corbel Warolin, en Abitibi, est très fière de dire qu’elle est Belge et la juge Hermina Popescu, dans l’Est-du-Québec, est très fière de dire qu’elle est d’origine roumaine. Et quand vous parlez à la juge Popescu, l’accent est notoire », explique la magistrate lors d’un entretien téléphonique avec Le Devoir.

Cette définition fait aussi débat au sein même des comités de sélection. « J’ai eu une situation où la personne était une immigrante caucasienne et réclamait le statut de communauté culturelle », relate-t-elle. « La personne du comité de sélection, elle-même issue d’une communauté culturelle, disait : “Voyons donc ! Elle ne peut pas être victime de discrimination” ».

Selon le décompte de la juge Tremblay, 33 des 289 juges en poste à la Cour du Québec représentent la « diversité culturelle ». Cette diversité « n’est peut-être pas noire, n’est peut-être pas racialisée, mais 33 juges sur 289, ce n’est quand même pas rien », souligne-t-elle. Selon elle, la magistrature doit refléter la société. « Mais quand on est juge, on doit être impartial et neutre. »

Un « déficit »

Les candidats à la fonction de juge à la Cour du Québec sont d’abord identifiés par un comité de sélection, qui fournit ensuite trois noms au ministre de la Justice afin que celui-ci recommande un candidat au conseil des ministres.

Cette procédure est inscrite dans le règlement sur la sélection des candidats au poste de juge, en révision à Québec. Celui-ci prévoit que les membres des comités de sélection reçoivent des formations pour être « sensibilisés à l’objectif de favoriser la parité […] ainsi que la représentation des communautés culturelles au sein de la magistrature ».

« [Mais] on est d’accord là, ce n’est pas d’un Noir dont vous avez besoin, c’est d’un juge, soutient la juge Tremblay. Par contre, à qualité égale, on doit être sensible à la nécessité d’avoir des avocats noirs, innus ou asiatiques » parmi les juges sélectionnés.

De l’avis du juge suppléant Daniel Dortélus, le règlement ne prévoit tout de même pas de « disposition concrète pour faire une place à la diversité » chez les juges.

En mars 2022, le magistrat — qui est Noir — avait transmis une lettre au ministre de la Justice afin qu’il comble le « déficit » en matière de diversité à la magistrature. Il y déplorait qu’après des décennies de représentations, l’enjeu « demeure toujours d’actualité en 2022 ».

En 2020, par exemple, il écrivait aux juges en chef de la Cour du Québec souhaiter que « le vent d’ouverture » dont témoignait la nomination de huit femmes par Ottawa à la magistrature de l’Ontario, dont plusieurs minorités visibles, « atteigne le Québec ».

Selon les données compilées par Le Devoir, les nominations de personnes issues des communautés culturelles sont généralement plus nombreuses au fédéral. Par exemple, l’an dernier, plus du cinquième des juges nommés aux cours supérieures (13 des 58 nominations) s’auto-identifiaient comme « minorités visibles ».

Le gouvernement de Justin Trudeau a par ailleurs nommé deux juges issus de la diversité à la Cour suprême, soit le premier juge non blanc, Mahmud Jamal, en 2021 et la première juge autochtone, Michelle O’Bonsawin, l’été dernier.

Dans un échange de courriels avec Le Devoir, le juge Dortélus propose que le règlement sur la sélection des candidats au poste de juge à la Cour du Québec soit modifié pour « qu’un ou les deux membres représentant le public [dans le comité de sélection] soient issus des groupes minoritaires et racisés, qui demeurent sous-représentés à la limite de l’exclusion en 2023 ».

Il ajoute que sans la diversification des comités, « le cercle vicieux d’exclusion des avocates et avocats issus des groupes minoritaires va continuer, en dépit des principes du droit à l’égalité ».

Un problème partagé

Selon la juge Tremblay, le manque de diversité au sein de la magistrature est le reflet de celui des universités et du Barreau. « Il faudrait d’abord qu’ils fassent des études de droit, c’est là qu’est le nerf de la guerre. Après, il faudrait qu’ils restent au sein de la profession pendant au moins dix ans », dit-elle.

Dix pour cent des membres du Barreau du Québec étaient Autochtones ou identifiés à un « groupe ethnoculturel » en 2020-2021. Le Barreau-mètre 2022, qui dresse le portrait de la profession en statistiques, souligne que la proportion d’avocats qui s’auto-identifient à un groupe minoritaire (y compris les minorités sexuelles et en situation de handicap) est passée de 8 % en 2014-2015 à 13 % en 2020-2021.

Or l’attachée de presse du ministre Jolin-Barrette, Élisabeth Gosselin, souligne que « peu d’avocats issus de la diversité soumettent leur candidature à la magistrature ». Le Barreau de Montréal a d’ailleurs mis sur pied un comité pour se pencher sur les questions de manque de diversité. « Nous suivons ces travaux de près », assure Mme Gosselin.

Source: La diversité mise au ban de la magistrature québécoise

Shielding Israel from criticism is not part of US strategy for combating anti-Semitism

Of note (on the IHRA and other definitions):

Supporters of Israel advocating for the controversial International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of anti-Semitism have suffered a major blow in their ongoing effort to shield the apartheid state from criticism, following the release of a strategy document by the White House detailing its plan to combat the rise of anti-Jewish racism. Since at least 2016, anti-Palestinian groups have been clamouring to place the IHRA at the heart and centre of regulatory frameworks, which critics say is designed to police free speech on Israel and Palestine.

Yesterday, the US President Joe Biden had his say on the issue and the outcome is far from what advocates of the IHRA had been calling for. Instead of adopting the IHRA as the only definition of anti-Semitism, which hundreds of pro-Israel groups had been advocating for during consultation, its status has been demoted as one of the definitions of anti-Jewish racism alongside others that “serve as valuable tools to raise awareness and increase understanding of anti-Semitism.”

The White House’s strategy for combatting anti-Semitism refers to IHRA as “most prominent” but also “non-legally binding working definition” alongside other definitions it “welcomes and appreciates”. The US Administration also cites the non-controversial “Nexus Document” as a valid definition of anti-Semitism. Unlike the IHRA, the Nexus Document does not conflate criticism of Israel with anti-Semitism. Interestingly, the IHRA is only mentioned once in the report, alongside other less controversial definitions of anti-Semitism, that do not mention Israel.

Noticeably, the White House did offer its own definition of anti-Semitism: “Anti-Semitism is a stereotypical and negative perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred of Jews” said the strategy document, without mentioning Israel once. “It is prejudice, bias, hostility, discrimination or violence against Jews for being Jews or Jewish institutions or property for being Jewish or perceived as Jewish. Anti-Semitism can manifest as a form of racial, religious, national origin, and/or ethnic discrimination, bias, or hatred; or, a combination thereof. However, anti-Semitism is not simply a form of prejudice or hate. It is also a pernicious conspiracy theory that often features myths about Jewish power and control.”

To the disappointed of pro-Israel groups, the White House’s definition does not mention the apartheid state once. Seven of the eleven examples of anti-Semitism in the IHRA conflate criticism of Israel with ant-Jewish racism. Because of this fact, opponents of the IHRA have warned that instead of focusing on how to keep Jews safe, the so called “working definition” is fixated on shielding Israel from accountability. The Biden administration seems to be implicitly sympathetic to this view. With no mention of Israel in the White House’s own definition of anti-Semitism, there is no other way to interpret the position of the Biden administration other than to view it as a snub to advocates of the IHRA. Having campaigned hard and long to make sure that the IHRA was at the heart and centre of the White House’s strategy to combat anti-Semitism, it was mentioned once and only in passing.

The Biden administration’s strategy represents “the most comprehensive and ambitious US government effort to counter anti-Semitism in American history”. To develop this strategy, the White House held listening sessions with more than 1,000 diverse stakeholders across the Jewish community and beyond. These sessions have included Jews from diverse backgrounds and all denominations. The White House also met with Special Envoys who combat anti-Semitism around the globe to learn from their best practices. Bipartisan leaders in Congress and from across civil society, the private sector, technology companies, civil rights leaders, Muslim, Christian and other faith groups, students and educators and countless others were engaged during “listening sessions”.

A bitter row had ensued during the consultation period over the status of the IHRA. Though there is said to have existed a broad consensus that anti-Semitism in America is a crucial problem and must be addressed, some Jewish organisations tried to undermine this effort, according to Hadar Susskind, the President and CEO of Americans for Peace Now. By insisting on the prioritisation of the IHRA above all other issues, Susskind claimed that a number of American Jewish organisations had prioritised shielding Israel from criticism over combatting anti-Semitism.

“Rather than support this far-reaching  plan to truly combat anti-Semitism, there are those in our community who, instead, insist that this plan should be about the IHRA definition, and only the IHRA definition,” said Susskind on twitter, while revealing details of the polarisation in the Jewish community over the IHRA. “Why are some insisting that the IHRA definition is so unique that it alone is worthy of inclusion in this effort?” Susskind asked. “Why do those same people insist that the Nexus definition and the Jerusalem Declaration on Anti-Semitism are so unacceptable as tools to combat anti-Semitism?”

Explaining the difference, Susskind said that “the IHRA definition and only the IHRA definition has been weaponised by the Israeli government and those who defend its worst policies and actions”. He mentioned how the IHRA definition has been used repeatedly to define anti-Zionism as anti-Semitism and “honed into a weapon to shut down criticism of Israeli policy and discourse on Israel-Palestine.”

J Street, another liberal pro-Israel advocacy group, which had urged the Biden administration not to incorporate the IHRA in its strategy, also welcomed the report. “Importantly, the strategy avoids exclusively codifying any one specific, sweeping definition of anti-Semitism as the sole standard for use in enforcing domestic law and policy, recognising that such an approach could do more harm than good” said J Street. “While some voices have pushed the White House to give the full force of US law to the IHRA Working Definition of Anti-Semitism and its accompanying examples, the Biden Administration rightly cites this definition as just one of a range of illustrative and useful tools in understanding and combating anti-Semitism.”

J Street went on to add that it was supported by many other advocates in the Jewish community – including the definition’s original author, Kenneth Stern – in warning that the IHRA and examples of anti-Jewish racism cited in the definition have been used to focus attention disproportionately on criticism of Israel and advocacy of Palestinian rights.

In refusing to endorse the IHRA as the only definition of anti-Semitism, President Biden has shown that a genuine effort to combat the rise of anti-Jewish racism cannot have a document shielding Israel from accountability at the heart and centre of its strategy.

Source: Shielding Israel from criticism is not part of US strategy for combating anti-Semitism

Canadians celebrate Citizenship Week [while IRCC undermines value through oath changes and dated citizenship guide]

The irony. The government tables a Gazette Notice proposing to all for self-affirmation of the oath rather than with fellow Canadians. The government promised to revise Discover Canada in 2016 (three or four ministers ago). And then it spouts this verbiage. Sad:

Becoming a Canadian citizen is a momentous occasion that marks the final step in the immigration journey. Every year, we celebrate Citizenship Week, a chance to celebrate new citizens and all that it means to be Canadian—our diversity, our history and our culture.

Today, the Honourable Sean Fraser, Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship, launched Citizenship Week, which runs from May 22 to 28, 2023. He will mark the occasion by attending citizenship ceremonies from coast to coast in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and Vancouver, British Columbia. Across the country, Canada will welcome thousands of new Canadians.

Citizenship ceremonies are an emotional and meaningful experience for all those who have a chance to participate. They provide an opportunity to witness new Canadians reach this proud milestone and reflect on the significance of citizenship, the rights it affords, and the responsibilities it bears. Citizenship is a commitment to Canada and all Canadians.

Everyone in Canada is invited to celebrate Citizenship Week by attending citizenship ceremoniestaking place this week across the country. Canadians can join the livestream from Halifax on May 24 or attend a ceremony that is open to the public in person.

As part of our efforts to modernize our services, Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) has made great strides when it comes to citizenship through online testing, virtual citizenship ceremonies, and an online application tracker that helps clients stay up to date on their files.

Canada is proud to have exceeded its citizenship goals this past year, with nearly 364,000 new Canadian citizens. We have already welcomed 85,000 new Canadians in the first three months of this year, and look forward to welcoming thousands more in the months ahead.

Source: Canadians celebrate Citizenship Week

5 takeaways from AP’s series on health disparities impacting Black Americans

Of note:

The Associated Press spent a year examining how racial health disparities have harmed generations of Black Americans. 

From birth to death, Black Americans fare worse in measures of health compared to their white counterparts. They have higher rates of infant and maternal mortality, higher incidence of asthma during childhood, more difficulty treating mental illness as teens, and higher rates of high blood pressure, Alzheimer’s disease and other illness as adults. 

Here are the key takeaways from each story:

WHY ARE BLACK BABIES AND MOTHERS MORE LIKELY TO DIE?

Black women have the highest maternal mortality rate in the United States — 69.9 per 100,000 live births for 2021, almost three times the rate for white women, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The 2021 rate was a significant increase from the prior year.

Black babies are also more likely to die, and also far more likely to be born prematurely, setting the stage for health issues that could follow them through their lives. In 2020, there were 364,487 preterm births in the nation, about 1 in 10. Preterm birth rates were highest for Black infants, 14.2%, between 2018 and 2020. 

Multiple factors contribute to these disparities, according to the CDC and advocacy organizations, such as underlying health conditions. But more doctors and experts have pointed to the role of structural racism that has created inequitable access to health care, implicit bias and discriminatory care. Poor health care or outcomes for Black mothers in turn can create issues for their babies, putting them at risk for future health problems down the road.

WHY DO MORE BLACK KIDS HAVE ASTHMA?

Black children are more likely to have asthma and to be exposed to certain triggers, like mold and air pollution. Their asthma often is more severe and less likely to be controlled. About 4 million kids in the U.S. have asthma. The percentage of Black children with asthma is far higher than white kids; more than 12% of Black kids nationwide suffer from the disease, compared with 5% of white children. 

Some of the high rates of asthma among Black children are tied to genetics — family histories of allergies, and frequent respiratory infections. But much of the disparity lies in the same racist factors that afflict Black peoples’ health from birth to death.

With asthma, especially for kids, where you live makes all the difference. And where you live often depends on your race. Black Americans are more at risk of living in homes with asthma triggers, like cockroaches, dust mites, mold and rodents. Research also shows that air pollution can worsen asthma.

Across America, nearly 4 in 10 Black children live in areas with poor environmental and health conditions compared to 1 in 10 white children. Factories spew nitrogen oxide and particulate matter. Idling trucks and freeway traffic kick up noxious fumes and dust.

The disparities are built into a housing system shaped by the longstanding effects of slavery and Jim Crow-era laws. Many of the communities that have substandard housing today or are located near toxic sites are the same as those that were segregated and redlined decades ago.

HOW DOES RACISM AFFECT BLACK TEENS’ MENTAL HEALTH?

About 50% of Black youth experience moderate to severe symptoms of depression, and about 18% said they were exposed to racial trauma often or very often in their life.

The drivers of the mental health crisis for Black children begin early and persist through a lifetime. Black children’s first encounters with racism can start before they are even in school, and Black teenagers report experiencing an average of five instances of racial discrimination per day. Young Black students are often perceived as less innocent and older than their age, leading to disproportionately harsher discipline in schools.

Black adolescents are far less likely than their white peers to seek and find mental health care. In part, that’s because Black families often distrust the medical system after generations of mistreatment — from lack of access to care to being subjected to racist practices and experimentation. 

The country also has a shortage of providers who understand the roles that racial identity and racism play in shaping young Black people’s mental health. Research and health surveillance data point to a growing mental health crisis among Black youth over decades. Between 1991 and 2019, Black adolescents had the highest increase among any other group in prevalence of suicide attempts — a rise of nearly 80%.

WHAT ROLE HAS HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE PLAYED IN COVID DEATHS OF BLACK AMERICANS?

High blood pressure has played a major role in COVID deaths, and especially in the COVID deaths of Black people. Together, they have created a deadly combination: While it is listed as a contributing factor in 15.5% of the deaths of white COVID sufferers, the figure for Black victims is 21.4% — the highest of any racial group.

About 56% of Black adults have high blood pressure, compared to 48% of white people. Three in four African Americans are likely to develop the disorder by age 55.

While only 32% of white adults with high blood pressure have their condition under control with medication, the figure for Black Americans is even lower — 25%.

And it’s likely to get worse: By 2060, the number of Americans battling cardiovascular disease is expected to drastically increase. High blood pressure rates alone are projected to rise 27.2%, or from roughly 127.8 million to 162.5 million Americans.

Among white people, the prevalence of cardiovascular risk factors and disease is projected to decrease over time. Yet significant increases are projected among people of color, especially Black and Latino Americans.

Like many conditions, genetics do play a part. Experts also blame poor diets, high cholesterol, obesity and smoking — risk factors that often exist at higher rates in Black communities. Also, in recent years, more academics and doctors have called attention to structural inequities that have an outsized impact. Black neighborhoods are more likely to experience a lack of access to healthy foods or be inundated with fast food options.

WHY DO SO MANY BLACK PEOPLE DEVELOP ALZHEIMER’S DISEASE?

Black Americans are more likely than white people to develop Alzheimer’s. About 14% of Black Americans over the age of 65 have Alzheimer’s, compared with 10% of white Americans, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Experts believe the rates could be even higher.

Health conditions like cardiovascular disease and diabetes experienced in earlier stages of life are known risk factors — both of which are more common among Black and Latino populations. Depression, high blood pressure, obesity and chronic stress are also risk factors. The CDC also acknowledges the impact of “higher rates of poverty, and greater exposure to adversity and discrimination” as risk factors.

Across the board, Black people are also unlikely to receive the health care that white people do — including necessary medication to treat Alzheimer’s and dementia-related disorders. A preliminary study released this year by Mount Sinai researchers found that Black people are less likely to receive dementia-related medications than white people.

Black and Latino populations are expected to rise in coming years, and so are the number of their cases of Alzheimer’s and related disorders. Cases among Black Americans are projected to increase four times over today’s estimates and Latino Americans could increase seven times, according to the CDC.

Some advocates estimate that by 2030, nearly 40% of all Americans living with Alzheimer’s could be Black or Latino. But the projected rise in cases isn’t just tied to population growth.

While evidence exists that certain genetic risk factors could differ by race and be a driver, the large disparities among racial groups can’t be explained just by genetics, experts say.

And the sheer trauma of experiencing racism is also believed to be a contributing factor.

Source: 5 takeaways from AP’s series on health disparities impacting Black Americans

ICYMI: How well is the government meeting its diversity targets? An intersectionality analysis

As you know, I have been looking for some time at how the diversity within the public service continues to evolve. The overall trend over the years demonstrates that the original policy objectives of improved diversity are being met but arguably too slowly for some.

For the past six years, TBS has provided disaggregated data for the various equity groups. In 2022, TBS also provided gender breakdowns within the disaggregated data. Following up on a suggestion from a member of Black Lives Matter, I looked at hiring, separation and promotion rates for visible minority and Indigenous groups, showing that visible minority representation is growing faster than non-visible minority, not indigenous, with a more mixed picture for Indigenous public servants.

When originally published by National Newswatch and subsequently posted on LinkedIn, the analysis received a range of commentary, ranging from this who appreciated the data and analyis to those who contested it. The latter ranged from those genuinely interested in discussing the approach I took while raising valid points (I learned more about disproportionately analysis), to those, “activists on a pension,” as we sometimes called them while working in the multiculturalism branch at Canadian Heritage.

The latter appeared to have not read the article or understood that I had used the same disproportionality approach to assess the differences between hiring, separation and promotion rates, highlighting the improvements over the past six years, particularly but not exclusively, for Black public servants. Media needs to be more careful in citing individual examples without this broader context (e.g., Sandra Griffith-Bonaparte has worked 22 years for the government. She’s never gotten a promotion):