Asia

Concern about 'murder hornets' overblown, says U of T Mississauga entomologist

Christopher.Sorensen — Mon, 11 May 2020 15:57:20 +0000

Concern about 'murder hornets' overblown, says U of T Mississauga entomologist

Christopher.Sorensen Mon, 05/11/2020 - 11:57

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U of T Rosalind Murray's says the headline-making Asian giant hornet has been getting a "bad rap" and is unlikely to pose much of a threat to wild bee populations in North America (photo by netman via Flickr)

Patricia Lonergan

Topic

Our Community

Asia

Biology

U of T Mississauga

Fear that so-called murder hornets are invading North America after the large, deadly predators were spotted on the West Coast are “overblown,” says ��Ƶ Mississauga entomologist Rosalind Murray.

Murray, a post-doctoral researcher, says a few of the insects have been found in western North America since September 2019. A nest was destroyed in British Columbia last year and there are reports this year of the invasive species in Washington state, prompting concerns that the giant insect could overrun local bee populations.

Also known as the Asian giant hornet, which experts have known about for a long time, these insects are the largest hornet in the world, with queens growing to an impressive five centimetres in length and the workers averaging four centimetres. As the name implies, they are native to Asia.

The nickname “murder hornet” is misleading, according to Murray. She says they kill bees, but are not aggressive toward people unless they feel threatened.

“They pack a punch when they do sting,” she says. “But ‘murder hornet’ takes it to a new level.”

Murray says the hornets, which are “big and impressive,” are social insects that build huge nests with lots of young to feed. They are meat eaters that mostly consume insect flesh. Because they are so large and numerous, they require a large source of prey, says Murray, who adds that bee nests are a great way for giant hornets to feed their young.

When the hornets locate a bee nest, they call in the cavalry by releasing a pheromone to recruit other hornets.

“They have a war and kill all the bees and feed the bee larvae to the hornet larvae,” Murray says. “They take the bees’ babies.”

In Japan, Murray says honeybees have evolved an “intricate defense mechanism” that involves detecting a pheromone released by the hornets and then putting out a call to their nest mates. She says the bees then form a ball around the hornet and suffocate it by producing carbon dioxide and heat.

“It’s the coolest thing,” Murray says.

The North American and European honeybees, however, have not had time to develop such a defence mechanism because this is a new predator for them.

Murray says the hornets are getting a “bad rap,” and have “exploded in popularity because of the moniker ‘murder hornet.’” While it’s gruesome to see hundreds of decapitated bees and it’s always disturbing when something is introduced accidentally, Murray stresses that the hornets aren’t a big problem.

By contrast, native bees are dealing with a lot of other threats, she says, pointing to climate change and destroyed habitats. Murray adds that it’s unlikely the hornets will eat many wild bees, which generally live more solitary lives and don’t build larger nests like honeybees, which were imported from Europe.

Murray says if she were a beekeeper on the West Coast, she would install a physical barrier to help protect the bees. Beekeepers in Asia use a barrier that has an opening big enough for a bee to get through, but is too small for hornets to enter, she explains.

Meanwhile, beekeepers in Ontario shouldn’t be concerned. “We can rest easy – at least this season,” Murray says.

U of T Mississauga course turns lens – and virtual reality headsets – on East Asian cinema

Christopher.Sorensen — Wed, 19 Feb 2020 14:56:07 +0000

U of T Mississauga course turns lens – and virtual reality headsets – on East Asian cinema

Christopher.Sorensen Wed, 02/19/2020 - 09:56

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A second-year course at U of T Mississauga taught by Elizabeth Wijaya introduces students to new ways of thinking about East and Southeast Asian cinema, including a film shot in virtual reality in Taiwan (photo by Timothy Fadek/Corbis via Getty Images)

Topic

Undergraduate Students

Virtual Reality

Visual Studies

Elizabeth Wijaya is one of the rare scholars who can claim a listing on IMDB, the Internet Movie Data Base.

The new assistant professor of East Asian cinema at U of T Mississauga studies the transnationality of cinema – how stories and people cross borders throughout Asia. She also has credits as a writer, director and producer with E&W Films, the film production company she runs with partner and U of T Mississauga sessional lecturer Lai Weijie.

Since joining U of T Mississauga’s department of visual studies in January, Wijaya (left) has introduced virtual reality technology, a filmmaker-in-residence program and established a new archive of short Asian films at the U of T Mississauga Library.

Associate Professor Alison Syme, chair of the visual studies department, is enthusiastic about the additions Wijaya has made to the cinema studies program.

“We have high demand for cinema production courses from students who want to produce their own films,” Syme says. “Because Elizabeth is a practitioner and is involved in a production company, she brings hands-on knowledge to the classroom that our students love.”

Wijaya’s second-year undergraduate course introduces students to different ways of thinking about East and Southeast Asian cinema with a syllabus that includes movies from Hong Kong’s New Wave and Second Wave periods, and films set or produced in China, Taiwan, Japan, Korea, Singapore, Malaysia and Cambodia.

“The course offers a mix of independent films and canonical films that I think students should know, but might not be on their radar today,” Wijaya says. “I want students to have a historical awareness of Asian film, but I also want them to have curiosity and excitement about what is happening now.”

Not all cinema takes place on the big screen, which is why Wijaya is also interested in how emerging technologies, including virtual reality, can push storytelling into new territories.

Working with U of T Mississauga’s new Collaborative Digital Research Space, Wijaya has secured four Oculus Quest virtual reality headsets for cinema students to watch Only the Mountain Remains, a dramatic VR film that debuted at the Venice International Film Festival in 2019. The film, produced by E&W Films, follows migrant Thai workers as they attempt to flee Taiwan in a harrowing 30-minute drive along a twisting mountain road.

The Oculus headsets put the viewer in the centre of the car with a 360-degree view of the action. “I want students to consider how this technology affects their analysis of the film, and what is the impact of watching this with a 360 (-degree) point of view instead of a conventional view,” Wijaya says

In February, Wijaya will welcome French-Cambodian filmmaker Davy Chou for a weeklong filmmaker-in-residence program. Chou will host public screenings of his documentary Golden Slumbers at U of T Mississauga, and his feature film Diamond Island at a second event on the St. George campus. He will also lead a graduate studies workshop to discuss the practicalities of film production and financing.

“There is not a lot of understanding of recent changes in Cambodian cinema,” Wijaya says “I wanted to really open up discussion about independent filmmaking in southeast Asia today.”

Wijaya is also working with the U of T Mississauga Library team to establish a new Asian short film archive that will be available to stream for U of T library users.

“I'm tremendously excited about working with the library to start and grow this collection,” Wijaya says. “Short cinema is often neglected in academic study, but it’s important for independent filmmakers who make a lot of short films before they can make feature films. This collection will be a valuable resource for research and teaching.”

U of T's Tiff Macklem on the urgent need for Canada to diversify its trade

noreen.rasbach — Wed, 14 Nov 2018 16:26:22 +0000

U of T's Tiff Macklem on the urgent need for Canada to diversify its trade

noreen.rasbach Wed, 11/14/2018 - 11:26

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Cargo containers from Asia are seen in the port of Vancouver in 2015. Tiff Macklem argues that Canada needs to diversify its trade beyond the U.S. and increase our links to rapidly growing emerging market economies (photo by Shutterstock)

Topic

Rotman School of Management

The Conversation

Trade

United States

With the difficult renegotiation of the trade agreement with Canada’s largest trading partner now resolved, it’s time for Canada to get serious about trade diversification.

The experience of renegotiating NAFTA – or USMCA as it is now called – has highlighted Canada’s vulnerability to one dominant trading partner that buys roughly 75 per cent of our exports.

As a country, we should not be in this position. We need to diversify our trade beyond the United States and increase our links to rapidly growing emerging market economies, particularly in Asia, despite the “anti-China” clause in the USMCA.

Given that growth has pivoted to these emerging markets in the last 15 years, the first question is why has this not happened already. The answer is straightforward.

For a long time, being right beside the United States – the biggest, richest market in the world – has been a great ride for Canada. What’s more, we’re very comfortable and good at doing business with Americans.

Fewer benefits of living next to U.S.

So why diversify? The short answer is being right next door to the United States is not the ride it used to be. Part of this is the alarmingly protectionist sentiment of U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration, but the root of the answer pre-dates Trump.

In the last 15 to 20 years, the United States has not been the engine of global growth that it was in the past. The U.S. share of global growth has been almost cut in half in the last two decades, falling from about 32 per cent in the 1990s to about 17 per cent in this decade. Over the same period, Asia’s share has risen from 32 per cent to just over 50 per cent, according to our analysis of World Bank trade data from the Institute for Competitiveness & Prosperity. This has created a double challenge for Canada.

First, we are significantly underexposed to emerging market economies, so we are getting little upside from their acceleration in growth.

Too engaged with sluggish economies

In addition to the 75 per cent of our trade that goes to the U.S., another 10 per cent goes to other slow-growth advanced economies, largely in Europe. Only about nine per cent of our trade is with faster-growing emerging economies like China, India, South Korea, Mexico and Brazil.

This is much lower than our peers. In Germany, the share of exports to emerging markets and other developing countries is in the 20s; for Japan and the U.S., it’s in the 30s; and in Australia, it’s in the 40s.

Containers wait to be unloaded onto a container ship berthed at the Australian port of Melbourne. Australia does enormous trade with emerging markets, far more than Canada (photo by Shutterstock)

Second, these rapidly growing economies are providing increasingly fierce competition for our products in the U.S. market. In 2000, Canada was the leading source of American imports. Today, China has the largest share of U.S. imports at 22 per cent, up from only eight per cent in 2000. In the same period, Canada’s share has declined from just over 18 per cent to about 13 per cent.

We should have developed a diversification strategy a decade ago. But without a crisis, there has been little imperative. Call it lack of vision, risk-taking or leadership.

Asian markets seen as risky

Emerging markets and Asian markets, in particular, are often seen as distant and less familiar. They are seen as risky and more expensive to penetrate. The consequences have been stark.

In the last 15 years, Canada’s share of the world export market has slipped from about 4.5 per cent to about two per cent. Part of this trend was inevitable as large emerging market economies joined the global trade and investment network, but Canada’s slide has been particularly precipitous.

Across the world’s Top 20 exporting countries, Canada’s performance since 2000 has been the second worst – only Japan has seen a bigger decline in its trade share than Canada.

Canada is losing share in the U.S. market that itself is losing share globally. We should instead be focused on gaining share in markets that are gaining share. This means diversifying our trade towards emerging market economies, particularly in Asia.

The place to start is with Asia’s two biggest economies, India and China. The new USMCA contains provisions that allow signatories to pull out of the deal if one country pursues a separate free-trade agreement with a “nonmarket country” – namely, China. But that should not be a barrier to this pivot.

India is a thriving democracy with strong ties to Canada. And as highlighted in a recent report on trade diversification from the Public Policy Forum, there is much that can be done with China short of a comprehensive free-trade agreement through sectoral agreements that offer “the best means for realizing quick and significant gains.”

Instead of waiting for a crisis, let’s make trade diversification the priority it should have been for at least the last decade.

Tiff Macklem is the dean of the ��Ƶ’s Rotman School of Management and a professor of finance.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article, including Macklem's disclosure statement.

U of T expert's new book looks at creative ways Chinese labour groups help migrant workers

noreen.rasbach — Fri, 26 Jan 2018 15:17:23 +0000

U of T expert's new book looks at creative ways Chinese labour groups help migrant workers

noreen.rasbach Fri, 01/26/2018 - 10:17

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Two men post job advertisements on a job board for migrant workers in Shenzhen, China (photo by Ryan Pyle/Corbis via Getty Images)

Topic

Subheadline

In a country where mass protest is illegal, Chinese workers resort to small, pop-up protests and even suicide threats to get their voices heard.

How labour organizations are able to help migrant workers when they can’t rally people in the streets is the focus of a fascinating new book by ��Ƶ political scientist Diana Fu.

“I wanted to explore how people and organizations are able to mobilize when the government officially doesn’t allow them to do it,” says Fu, an assistant professor of Asian politics at U of T Scarborough and expert on state power and civil society in China.

In Mobilizing Without the Masses: Control and Contention in China, Fu (pictured left) explores the way labour organizations in China operate, offering a behind-the-scenes look at how they’re able to advocate and help migrant workers on issues like access to pay and injury compensation when legal channels have not worked.

“China’s 280 million migrant workers are arguably the most disadvantaged group in China, both politically and economically, and since labour organizations can’t legally facilitate protests on their behalf, they have to show workers alternative ways to draw attention,” she says.

In Fu’s experience, it’s understandably an emotional time for these aggrieved. There’s a lot of fear and uncertainty because many have suffered through a life-changing experience, whether it be a loss of pay or losing the ability to perform their employable skill as a result of a workplace injury.

Many workers have not had safety equipment or even proper lighting, which can lead to injury. She says many have been badly mistreated by their factory bosses, have been injured on the job and failed to receive proper compensation. And after exhausting the available legal channels, which can take a long time, they may end up not getting what they’re entitled.

“Bosses will try everything they can to not pay their injured workers despite Chinese labour laws stating injured workers are entitled to compensation from their employers,” says Fu.

“What often ends up happening is that local government officials are not that keen to step in and help workers because they’re afraid of deterring investors or fear that companies will pack up and move elsewhere.”

She outlines three types of mobilizing tactics that labour organizers have taught workers. One, which is the riskiest in terms of upsetting the state, is to get a small group of people to do a flash protest in front of a government building that may last five minutes.

Another tactic is to put on a so-called suicide show. While some workers have taken their lives to protest exploitation or labour conditions, the mere threat of suicide is often enough to compel officials into action.

“If a worker threatens to jump off a building, which is a very public display, it signals to officials that they will have a big problem on their hands if they don’t act,” she says.

Finally, the least risky tactic involves advocating for workers through popular media like contacting a journalist or using song, dance or theatre.

Fu says many of the labour organizations that help workers were started by migrant workers themselves who have a history of using various tactics to address their grievances. They have since evolved into established NGOs with funding models that can sustain their work.

And while workers often find out about these NGOs through word of mouth, it’s not unusual for activists to show up at hospitals and ask how many there were injured on the job. Some activists will even hold up their hand that’s missing a few fingers to gain the trust of workers who may be nervous or hesitant to speak up.

“It really starts as a collective identity formation, that there are others like me who have a boss just like mine who is trying to escape payment and the government is just as unresponsive,” she says.

There’s also been a recent crackdown on labour organization activity, notes Fu. She carried out the bulk of her research from 2009 to 2011 during the previous Hu Jintao administration, but in 2015, many of the important labour leaders from these NGOs were rounded up, tried and given probation or suspended sentences that severely limits their ability to continue helping migrant workers. Much of the crackdown came as a result of a switch in tactics from mobilizing individuals to activities around collective action, like collective bargaining.

“The shift to mobilizing with the masses was critical for this movement because from the state’s perspective it was crossing the line,” says Fu, who hopes her book can offer insight for policymakers on what is being done for workers in terms of improving labour conditions and engage with civil society in China.

U of T hosts graduation ceremony for Asia-Pacific region in Hong Kong

ullahnor — Thu, 23 Nov 2017 21:01:18 +0000

U of T hosts graduation ceremony for Asia-Pacific region in Hong Kong

ullahnor Thu, 11/23/2017 - 16:01

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Every two years, U of T hosts the Asia-Pacific Graduation Ceremony in Hong Kong. At the 2015 ceremony, alumnus Ka Wing Kelvin Chu (right) had the opportunity to share his achievements with his family (photo courtesy of Division of University Advancement)

Topic

Division of University Advancement

Faculty of Medicine

Global

International Students

When Ka Wing Kelvin Chu completed an honours bachelor degree from the ��Ƶ two years ago, his parents travelled from China to attend convocation but not his grandmother.

A 15-hour flight at her age was not feasible, he says.

So, a separate ceremony hosted by U of T in Hong Kong later that year allowed the international student’s 82-year-old grandmother to see him be the first in the family to receive a university degree.

U of T organizes the graduation ceremony in Hong Kong every two years for students and families from the Asia-Pacific region. In 1996, the university was the first in North America to offer a regional graduation ceremony, and now it’s become a mainstay.

On Sunday, U of T will host the 11th Asia-Pacific Graduation Ceremony in Hong Kong for students who graduated this year or the year before. About 430 students and their families are expected to attend from Hong Kong, China, Taiwan, Singapore and India, to name a few.

“We felt it was important to give the graduating students from that part of the world the opportunity to celebrate and mark this important milestone at a ceremony that was closer to home,” said Barbara Dick, assistant vice-president of alumni relations at U of T’s Division of University Advancement.

“This is a way that they can celebrate their achievements with their family and friends.”
Ka Wing Kelvin Chu (right) brought his 82-year-old grandmother to the 2015 Asia-Pacific Graduation in Hong Kong (photo courtesy of Kelvin Chu)

In the case of alumna Rae Ruixin Ma, the ceremony offered the next best thing to getting her degree at Convocation Hall. She completed a specialist program in management and finance at U of T Scarborough but couldn’t attend the Toronto graduation in 2015 because she had just started a new job in Singapore.

The Hong Kong ceremony was her chance to experience what convocation feels like – the robe, the certificate, the photos – and it was an opportunity for her family who lives in Singapore to celebrate with her.

“The Hong Kong graduation ceremony enabled me to experience ‘graduation’ because I couldn’t make it to the one in Toronto,” said Ma, who is currently president of U of T’s alumni group in Singapore. “When I was at the 2015 Hong Kong graduation ceremony, I spoke to other attendees – mostly residents of Hong Kong, China, Singapore, Malaysia and other Asian countries – and they told me they were at the Toronto convocation, but their parents were unable to attend due to long distance, scheduling conflicts, health conditions etc. …The Hong Kong ceremony gives international graduates and family members an alternative option.”

For U of T, which considers international partnerships a top priority, the ceremony also allows it to elevate its profile in the region. The university’s ties to China, for example, date back to the 1930s when surgeon and alumnus Norman Bethune became a national hero.

There’s been a long history of collaboration with researchers at institutions across the region and student exchanges. In 1996, the university hosted its first Asia-Pacific Graduation Ceremony with a total of 58 students. Today, the event attracts about 100 students, and is attended by both President Meric Gertler and Chancellor Michael Wilson – both of whom take photos with grads.

“You see how meaningful it is to students, and how honoured people are that the university is doing this,” Dick said.

For example, two years ago a PhD student from India who couldn’t fly in her family to Toronto chose to bring them all to Hong Kong instead.

U of T also invites leaders from universities and secondary institutions in the region to the ceremony.
Rae Ruixin Ma is now president of U of T's alumni association in Singapore. After missing convocation in Toronto, she attended the Asia-Pacific Graduation Ceremony in Hong Kong in 2015 (photo courtesy of Division of University Advancement)

In the week following the ceremony, the president and chancellor attend various alumni events across the region: Nov. 27^th in Hong Kong and Nov. 30^th in Beijing for the president, and Nov. 28^th in Singapore for the chancellor. The events will feature a talk by Alex Mihailidis, professor of occupational science and therapy in the Faculty of Medicine and the Institute of Biomaterials & Biomedical Engineering, who will be discussing the latest in technology for societies with an aging population.

U of T’s Division of University Advancement, which has had an office in Hong Kong since 1995 to serve the entire Asia-Pacific region, says alumni in the region are among the university’s most active. U of T graduates from Hong Kong number about 3,200 – the second-highest grouping of U of T alumni outside Canada and the U.S., and the ��Ƶ Alumni Association (UTAA) of Hong Kong is the largest U of T alumni association outside Canada. In China, there are about 1,400 alumni with three distinct groups in Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen. And, Singapore has almost 600 alumni.

“As U of T seeks to raise its profile around the world, the people who can best help us do that are our alumni,” Dick said. “Having an engaged alumni who can speak well of the university and actively represent the university – that is really foundational to our profile raising ability in key markets.

“It’s important for our graduates, in terms of their own career trajectories and life trajectories to be part of a university that actually does have a local profile. It’s not good enough for them to know how great U of T is, they need people in their broader communities to know how great U of T is. It helps them with their employability. It helps us overall with our reputational rankings.”

Hong Kong’s alumni group has also played an instrumental role in giving back to U of T.

The ��Ƶ (Hong Kong) Foundation, started in 1995, raises funds to provide scholarship opportunities for undergraduate students from Hong Kong to study at U of T.

In Chu’s case, the scholarship helped him attend U of T, where he majored in English and minored in French and Italian. He has fond memories of U of T’s downtown campus, experiencing the city and the university’s student exchange offerings through which he studied English literature for a semester at University College London and French literature at Université Sorbonne Nouvelle Paris 3.

He’s currently doing a master’s at the University of Hong Kong and will be attending law school next year. He says without the Hong Kong foundation’s scholarship, U of T would not have been within reach.

“The scholarship turned an opportunity into a reality for me,” he said.
The Asia-Pacific Graduation Ceremony brings in U of T students from across the region, including India, Taiwan and Singapore. Alumna Jyothsna Chitturi, who received a PhD, flew in her family from India, and they all took a photo with U of T President Meric Gertler (photo courtesy of the Division of University Advancement)

Take a stand: a U of T historian shares her story of being a young refugee

ullahnor — Wed, 05 Apr 2017 16:12:06 +0000

Take a stand: a U of T historian shares her story of being a young refugee

ullahnor Wed, 04/05/2017 - 12:12

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Associate Professor Nhung Tuyet Tran with her family in Michigan soon after arriving in America as a Vietnamese refugee. She is pictured standing in the bottom row with her brothers (photo courtesy of Nhung Tuyet Tran)

Topic

With the renewed debate in Europe and North America over refugees, Bruce Kidd, vice-president of U of T and principal of U of T Scarborough, shared his blog this week with Nhung Tuyet Tran, associate professor of Southeast Asian history in the Faculty of Arts & Science.

She shares her story below about her experiences as a refugee escaping Vietnam, being in a refugee camp and eventually settling in the United States – first in Michigan and then Texas.

I never realized that I was an American patriot until I moved to Canada and before this year is over, I may become a Canadian patriot, though through a circuitous route. I rarely share my own story, in part because of my revulsion at the liberal elite’s desire to consume compelling struggles. I want to be known for my scholarship and teaching, a privilege that people of European descent in my field enjoy, rather than being reduced to a representation of the refugee experience. However, last year, in the midst of the largest humanitarian crisis of our times, the fate of Syrian refugees, I felt that it was irresponsible not to speak out.

I was born in Vietnam immediately following the end of the American War, to parents of modest peasant backgrounds. My parents had no formal education, but they could read and write. My father had been a soldier in the French colonial army and had lost his leg on a land mine sometime in 1953-54. My mother was from a moderately successful peasant family from the north, whose own grandparents were executed during the land reforms of 1956. In Saigon, they were among the million or so new migrants who placed pressure on the physical infrastructure of the new state, but also formed the locus of political support for the president of the new Republic of Vietnam, himself an ardent Catholic. Handicapped and uneducated, my parents did what they could to make do: my mother sold tofu on the streets of Saigon and my father took jobs here and there. In the 1960s, they benefitted from the influx of American capital, and alone or together, as memories are blurred, opened a small bar. At some point in the early 1970s, my mother’s hand was maimed when she intervened to protect a patron at the bar.

After 1975, the new Vietnam was not kind to two disabled, Catholic individuals whose migration south signaled a political betrayal. At that point, they had six children, and cared for two maternal uncles, who were teenagers at the time. Twice, they tried to commission escape, only to be turned in by family members. The third and final time, to conceal their efforts, my two eldest sisters, aged 10 and eight, traveled on the back of trucks and buses to a coastal city of no great distance, but seven hours away, to negotiate our family’s escape.

So it was, as the story has been relayed to me over the years, one summer day in 1979, my parents somehow got my six older siblings, my newly born three-month-old sister, my uncles, and me to that port town and on a wooden boat with other families. My parents had always maintained that this would have been our last try, that they had made their peace with the unknown beyond the shores of the South China Sea, or death for their children and wards. I have no real memories of the escape, but one vague manufactured one of the ship that rescued our family. A Norwegian ocean liner had spotted our tiny boat after a few days and we were taken onto it. Real or manufactured, my earliest memory is the sensation that I was stepping onto a steel boat as large as a city, and that automobiles could drive around it. The ship took us to the nearest refugee camp from our location, as the laws of the seas required, in Singapore, which is when my own memories emerge, sometimes with the help of photographic images, which remain the only evidence I have of my existence before the age of five.

In the image [directly] above, I am pictured with my brother in our refugee camp. My hair is freshly shorn to prevent the spread of lice among the refugees. The image [below] captures our arrival in Grand Rapids, Michigan. My father is on the far right and another one of my brothers is carrying his wooden leg. On the left, my mother is carrying my sister, who would have been close to one at the time. The [lead] picture [at the very top of the post] is, as far as I know, our first "family photo" with eight of the nine kids (I'm the girl in the front row), on one Sunday after mass in 1981 or so. My youngest brother had not been born yet. The picture reveals a happy and settled family, but it also obscures other stories, moments of great generosity on the one hand, but also exploitation and discrimination during our early years in the United States.We had been sponsored by a Dutch Reform Church, but with strings attached, it soon emerged. The picture captures a happy moment after mass, but also conceals the fact that we had just been evicted from our home, owned by the congregation, because we would not convert. In retrospect, the eviction seems all the more enraging because my parents, siblings and I had worked long hours harvesting blueberries on farms affiliated with the church. Despite the organization’s decision, a congregant, whom I remember as a tall man who used to take us out into the city, continued to visit. He helped us to apply for public housing and other assistance. One Christmas Eve, he even brought hand-me-down clothes, including my favorite, a Miss Piggy nightgown. Eventually, my parents moved us to Texas, and we left behind cold Michigan winters.

In Michigan and Texas, my family survived because of the government programs implemented to help the weakest among us. My mother worked 14 hours a day in a restaurant and my father did manual labour, but it was not enough. Between the ages of eight and 12, I de-headed and peeled hundreds and hundreds of pounds of shrimp, alongside my younger sister. The shrimp would then be sent to be packaged elsewhere and sold in gourmet stores around the country. My older siblings all worked part-time jobs, not for spending money, but to pay for essentials in the household. Still, it was not enough, and it was the public services for the poor that sustained us.

Despite our poverty, the Medicaid program, which provided basic medical care, ensured that in emergencies we would still receive prescription medications and acute care. The Food Stamp Program, a food-voucher system, did not satiate our hunger but did prevent us from starvation. The Housing Section 8 Program, which helped the poor find suitable housing, ensured that we were not homeless. With the small welfare stipend, my parents could pay rent and the gas bills so we did not freeze in Michigan, die of heat exhaustion in Texas or forego basic hygiene items like soap.

As our basic material needs were met at home, our intellectual and psychological needs were nurtured at school. Then, in the 1980s, the educational structure in the United States was good enough that we could attend our local schools and receive quality education. The federally funded university grant and loan programs allowed us to attend university. Throughout these years, we had to start over many times, twice because of robberies in our tiny home and another time when our house burnt down. We faced xenophobia, racism and inequality in our America, but we also benefitted from the incredible structural generosity of a nation and the personal generosities of others around us. From the bureaucrat who could have made our lives more difficult but instead gave us the benefit of the doubt, to the teachers who recognized our thirst for knowledge and sent information about enrichment programs to us. Personal generosities, however, were no replacement for that safety net, and it was our fortune to have the two that enabled us to survive.

Despite its failings, our America was one in which the poor had access to basic healthcare, a more compassionate immigration system and a solid education system. These institutions are essential in a fair society. Since the first weeks of this new administration, the President and the Republican-led Congress are dismantling it. They have drawn on language to turn Americans against one another, and it is only three months in.

Lucky as I am to enjoy a stable position in Canada, I have a responsibility to share my story as we see similar sentiments take shape here. The defunding of education in Ontario, and the stripping of programs to help the poor in cities across Canada, are muted examples of those American initiatives.

I share my story also, not only to resist the xenophobic, Islamophobic rhetoric, often accompanied by violence, that has been unleashed in the United States and in Canada, but to counteract language that is emerging from progressive circles, too. The distasteful discourse around the potential “brain surge” that may flow into Canada as a result of the travel bans in the United States directs attention away from the real suffering that these individuals face. Refugees and victims of religious discrimination should be welcomed because it is right to protect them against state-sponsored violence, not because they can help the bottom line. If I made any contributions to society, it is not because I had any promise as that young child in the refugee camp, it was because of those institutional structures.

As a teacher of the history of Southeast Asia, I retell stories of courage and cowardice that have shaped the contours of our modern world. I have never seen any person who has stood up and taken a stand against oppression regret it later in their lives, though there are many stories of those who turned away, and regretted it for the rest of their lives.

I believe that Canadians who enjoy the benefits of influence and position have a responsibility to take a stand and speak out against the injustices they see, whether south of the border or in our own communities. Canadian leaders should add substance to their rhetoric of fostering a just and inclusive society, by welcoming refugees not because they can become great citizens, but because it is the right thing to do. A living income, access to social services and equal access to education is what makes great citizens. As my neighbours, friends and colleagues work to bring Syrian refugee families to Canada, and to see how differently RCMP officials are greeting refugees fleeing the United States, I feel proud. However, I am mindful of how quickly public opinion can turn.

As I write this blog, I am also preparing my application for Canadian citizenship, so that in the next year or so, should my application be approved, I can exercise my civic duty to vote in local and provincial elections. My own father voted in every election from the time he became an American citizen to the day he died, on the morning of the 2002 mid-term elections. At the end of a lengthy illness, he was declared brain dead that morning. After he was gone, I collected his things and saw that after so many years, he still carried his voter’s registration card in his wallet. He had become an American patriot and exercised his most sacred of duties faithfully. Our elected leaders answer to us, and as citizens of a just society, it is our responsibility to demand it of our representatives.