Asking the right questions for the future of Canadian education
By Shara Brandt
On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, in the beautiful and newly built George Brown waterfront campus building, some of the top voices in the post-secondary space gathered to discuss the future of Canadian colleges and universities. Included in this panel was Gabriel Miller, President and CEO of Universities Canada, Karine Morin, CEO and President of the Federation for Humanities and Social Sciences, Gervan Fearon, President of George Brown College, Jacqueline Ottmann, President of the First Nations University of Canada, and Pari Johnston, President and CEO of CICan. These leaders all share one goal: to create collaboration and mutual understanding between all institutions of higher learning in Canada, as well as to innovate the way their programs are designed for the future, and the wellbeing of all Canadians.
Each one of these leaders brought their own experience with education to the forefront in discussing how to accomplish these lofty aspirations. Gabriel Miller opened up the discussion by acknowledging that “There’s a lot to be scared about, but there’s also a lot of opportunities to be excited about. And the best thing we can do right now is to just lean in and embrace the moment.” This insight is echoed by Jacqueline Ottmann, who has dedicated her career to advocating for the inclusion of Indigenous voices and information systems in post-secondary learning. Her witnessing of discrimination in her own formative years has informed her emphasis on community-based learning, as she puts it: “We’re missing out on essential knowledge and ideas when we work in silos. Diversity is strength, and we see that clearly in the sharing of information.”
For Pari Johnston, her work with Canadian colleges showed her that there is still a lot of work to be done in bridging the gap with universities. She envisions a future where both these systems of higher learning work in tandem with one another to address issues facing the communities they are in. For her, the solution to this is radical curiosity, as she says “For those deeply invested in education, there's a common thread of curiosity, wanting to know why things are the way they are.” Gervan Fearon agreed profoundly with this notion, adding that his goal as president of George Brown College, his goal is to ask the big questions in order to future-proof curriculums.
By asking what the goal and purpose of colleges and universities are, there emerge deep-rooted similarities that can be used to build necessary connections. Both kinds of institutions aim to benefit humanity in tangible ways, through the output of skills-based learning, as well as conducting innovative research. It is also worth noting that both of these kinds of output are found in both colleges and universities. By asking questions about how people have evolved, and how their engagement with their communities have changed over time, it becomes possible to apply these learnings to education. More specifically, by asking what gaps need to be filled locally, whether it be in the small-medium sized businesses that reside there, aspects of social connection that are missing, or questions about the health of the local ecosystem and the fulfillment of basic needs. In Karine Morin’s work as President and CEO of the Federation, she brings the important lens of how liberal arts and the humanities can help answer these questions.
In order to understand people, it is essential to employ those in sociology, philosophy and anthropology to add the necessary layers of theory. After all, questions of human need require those who are most intimately acquainted with the histories, mentalities, and desires. By bringing together these perspectives, Congress has already made massive leaps in connecting powerful voices with a shared goal of looking out for both current and future students. This panel showed how willing and excited educational leaders are to challenge themselves, and the institutions they represent, to enter the future with curiosity and community. As they look to the future, their vision is one of increased unity, and a dedication to listening with clear minds, and open hearts.
A conversation on freedom and finding each other
By Ayat Salih
Leaving the Queer Marronage as a Strategy for Black Liberation panel, you're left with the question: What am I doing in my aliveness?
Three panelists, Dr. Ronald Cummings, Dr. d'bi Anitafrika Young and Ravyn Wngz, were brought together in a recent gathering to explore the idea of queer marronage – a way of thinking about Black liberation through escape, refusal, and creative community-building.
In his opening remarks, Dr. Ronald Cummings reminded us that Canada, too, has a history of marronage. Dr. Cummings named Harriet Tubman not only as a figure in American history, but as part of Black Canadian memory. "Canada is part of this history of marronage. We need to mark our history of freedom work." His framing encouraged everyone to think of freedom not just as a goal, but as an ongoing process.
Dr. d'bi.young anitafrika reflected on what it means to be alive and free in the present moment. "How am I being alive?" they asked. Her words moved between personal reflection and performance, calling attention to the everyday choices we make in how we live. She spoke about bio-myth–a method of creating art from both memory and imagination–and how art can be a way to protect ourselves and reimagine the future. "The biographical is the catalyst, but the art itself is alive and has its own agency to be 'restory-ed'. “
Ravyn Wngz shared how her early education in Black history, guided by her mother, shaped her activism. She spoke about her involvement in Black Lives Matter, and how dance and performance became tools to deal with the stress of anti-Blackness. "Burlesque is a way to seduce the truth," she said, describing how she uses theatre and movement to share stories in ways that are both engaging and healing. She also reflected on the importance of Indigenous and Black solidarity, especially in the Canadian context.
A quiet but powerful presence, Natalie Wood offered another perspective to the discussion. Wood described the gathering as a "manifestation space," asking how we can think about marronage as something expansive–a strategy for building new worlds, not just escaping old ones.
Together, the group reflected on how marronage isn't just about the past. It's a way of being, of creating, and of finding each other. As Ronald put it, "Marronage is not freedom–it's moving towards it." Whether through conversation, performance, or everyday connection, the speakers reminded us that the work of freedom is still unfolding–and we're all part of it.
The power of listening to Indigenous stories
By Shara Brandt
When Dr. Deanna Reder was studying to achieve her doctorate in English through the lens of Indigenous studies, she never could have predicted that she would be tapped by her community to help solve a cold case murder.
In 2001 she began her doctoral work, studying Indigenous information sharing and policy. Her area of research was the vast collection of 19th and 20th century Cree or Métis authors whose work was deeply impactful to the movement for Indigenous rights in Canada, but who were never given the proper opportunity to be published and were nearly forgotten. These figures reflected her own experience in academia, as when she began her post-secondary journey there were simply no courses available on Indigenous studies. In 2007 she was hired at Simon Fraser University and began to build out the curriculum for what would eventually become the university’s official Department of Indigenous Studies. Her work also extended beyond the walls of this institution, as she was a Series Editor for the Indigenous Studies Series at Wilfrid Laurier University Press from 2010 to 2021, as well as an organizer of many workshops across Canada. She is also a widely published author, having contributed to a vast number of journals and books, and has herself authored 2 books; Elements of Indigenous Style and Autobiography as Indigenous Intellectual Tradition: Cree and Métis âcimisowina.
Some key figures in Dr. Reder’s work focused on political radicals and organizers of the 19th century. Within this group were some truly inspirational Indigenous activists, but 2 in particular had their stories intertwined with deep impact on their community, but also a great sense of tragedy. These were Métis leader James Brady and Cree band councillor Absolom Halkett, who were hired in 1967 to prospect for uranium near a small lake north of La Ronge, Saskatchewan. They camped and worked there for 3 weeks, living off the land despite the harsh winter. But by the time their employer had come to restock their supplies, the men had vanished entirely. The RCMP closed the case in a matter of weeks, deciding there was no foul play involved. Their community knew better though. For decades their case remained untouched, with members of their families continuously asserting that there was absolutely something amiss in the case, most plausibly that the RCMP had murdered these 2 men. Both were heavily involved in the organizing of Indigenous people to campaign for their political equality, and both attempted to get their writing published, with either little success or heavy censorship. Dr. Reder happened to have a connection to one of the families and took special interest in the case.
Through her patience and drive for the truth, she accessed her network and mounted an expedition to the very lake where both men went missing. With the help of her community, she found justice and truth for the families involved, which you can read all about in the book she helped write about the entire experience. Through it all, Dr. Reder attributed her accomplishments in this case and in her research to the patience and care that went into listening to those in her community. By just hearing people out, she witnessed the transformative power of simply allowing their voices to be heard. This is a lesson to be applied to the greater world of education, because as cliché as it may sound, we truly do only learn when we humble ourselves enough to actively listen.
“Listening with respect and questioning the vested interest in lawmakers and those who minimize indigenous grievances is powerful, as many indigenous people can read situations better than they can.” -Dr. Deanna Reder
Check out the book written about this case to read the full story:
It goes all the way to the top
By Shara Brandt
On May 20th, 2025, Interim President of Columbia University, Claire Shipman, took to the stage to address the graduating class with a speech. She in turn was met with an entire audience of students who booed her for minutes on end. Many also chanted “Free Mahmoud”, in reference to Mahmoud Khalil, a student and activist at the university who was detained by ICE without proper warrant even though he was a legal permanent resident of the US. This overwhelmingly negative response came on the heels of Columbia not only being a site of multiple unlawful student arrests, but also the university caving to demands from the Trump administration which included: banning face masks on campus, allowing security officers to remove or arrest students on campus, and allowing the government major influence over the department that offers courses on the Middle East from its faculty. This is just one of the most recent case studies on how governments are increasingly intervening in institutions of higher learning.
While this particular case comes out of the US, academics like Marc Spooner, professor in the Faculty of Education at the University of Regina would argue that it is not inconceivable of the same happening in Canada. “We see these things, and we should be concerned because we aren’t immune in Canada.” said Spooner, and indeed this is true. Anti-intellectualism as well as conservatism has been on the rise, both in public sentiment and journalistic coverage. When students were non-violently protesting the war in Israel and Gaza, many were met with a violent response from police and campus security officials. Conservative-leaning media outlets tried to justify this response as necessary to restore campus welfare, with some even claiming that the encampments in Toronto were a sham, one that hired non-students to add bodies to the protest even though these claims had no real basis. These media outlets acted as a mouthpiece for the current American administration, as well as the growing number of Canadians who agree with right-wing sentiments.
Even in the most recent Canadian federal election, there were many concerns that if conservative candidate Pierre Poilievre won, he would follow the way of Columbia and cave to Trump’s demands. These concerns came from his parroting of similar talking points to Trump about the dangers of gender ideology and dismissal of the importance of DEI. Those in the education space saw the gag-orders on subjects like critical race theory and gender theory in American colleges, like those in Texas, and worried similar policies would pop up in Canada if a conservative government was installed. While ultimately it was the Liberals who won the majority in Canada, the current political climate is evidence that socially, the tide is turning on liberal ideals. Many point to a failure on the part of liberals and democrats alike to acknowledge the pain and struggle of working-class people. With more concerns over an unstable economy and job loss than ever, the political game has become one of showing the people that they are heard and understood.
So how can those working in education do this? Well, Marc Spooner argues that it comes down to the willingness to get dirty and engage in difficult conversations. Part of his work involves analyzing and engaging with the way corporate and political agendas can intervene in the goals of higher learning. By allowing the government to dictate what is taught, he sees this as a way to erode students' ability to speak and think freely. The way he combats this is by consistently showing up and rejecting the idea of needing to be neutral in order to get along. He urges those who believe in democracy to note the way anti-democratic ideals manifest themselves in how news is covered, and how conversations are had online. Media literacy is of utmost importance in this type of work, as well as understanding how people feel they are being alienated from liberal institutions.
Ultimately, the fight for democracy in the future may come down to a return to grassroots efforts, and the belief in listening actively, and analyzing trends in what messages the government is sending to the institutions within their reach.
Between betrayal and belonging: Rethinking solidarity under siege
By Ayat Salih
In a moment defined by genocide, mass displacement, and global complicity, what does togetherness truly mean? Can mutuality–being in relation to care and accountability–exist when entire peoples are being starved, bombed, and erased? These questions grounded the urgent panel Reframing Togetherness: Confronting Ruptures, Disjunctions, and Betrayals in Times of Genocide.
The panel's moderator, Dr. Lucy El-Sherif, began with a Land Acknowledgment that linked Indigenous dispossession in Canada with the violent erasures occurring from Palestine to Congo to Sudan, naming the normalization of genocide on occupied land. "What does togetherness mean when we are witnessing such horrors?" she asked, naming the dystopia of being called into solidarity while institutions remain loudly silent.
Dr. Wafaa Hasan addressed the betrayal embedded in colonial histories and contemporary resistance movements. She stressed that solidarity with Palestine must not be symbolic or conditional. "Palestinian women are a site of authority on feminism," she reminded us, pointing to the crucial, often erased work they've done documenting the gendered impact of occupation. Feminist solidarity cannot reproduce colonial logics that render Muslim women voiceless or non-women.
Dr. Nisrin Elamin provided a trenchant analysis of Sudan, calling the current war "the largest humanitarian crisis you haven't heard of." She explained how global powers–especially the Gulf states–are using Sudan as a site of empire-building, exploiting land and people through racial capitalism. "Capitalism won't stop being racial capitalism even if all the white people disappear," she said, emphasizing that systemic violence does not require white faces to function. She named how revolutionaries who ousted Omar al-Bashir in 2018 were sidelined by an international preference for "stability" over transformation, leading to Sudan's current counterrevolutionary war.
Dr. Delice Mugabo challenged the politics of inclusion, arguing that it often demands validation from the very systems that dehumanize. Drawing from histories of Black enslaved people in Quebec, religious codification legitimized slavery. She explained how forced conversion during enslavement was justified as a "humanizing" act, exposing how Catholicism was used to control and subjugate Black life under French colonialism. Islamophobia is a mechanism of Anti-Blackness, she argued, is foundational–not incidental–to Canada's history.
Dr. Leila Benhadjoudja addressed how the state weaponizes Islamophobia, particularly in Quebec. The politics of language, she said, are central to colonial projects that cast Muslim women as either threats or victims. "Togetherness is the refusal of the notion that we must be the same to stand together," she offered–a powerful call for solidarity rooted in difference, not assimilation.
Finally, Dr. Muna Saleh closed with a reflection on faith, pedagogy, and care. Her grandmother, she said, taught her a curriculum of rahma–meaning mercy, derived from the word for womb. "Siti loved life and taught life," she said, reminding us that curriculum is how we learn all things, it is "at the knee of your Grandparent, not just in an institution."
In a time of rupture, the panel urged us to practice a deeper, riskier form of togetherness–one that is rooted in truth, grief, and radical refusal.