Quotes

"People start to heal the moment they feel heard" (Wiart, 2020, 1:51).

In 2014, I was working at Safe House with the Boys and Girls Clubs of Calgary. At the time, the program was in complete disarray. We had gone months without a manager, the director was largely absent, staff received no training, and youth behaviors had escalated to unsafe levels. There were no effective policies or procedures in place and the youth knew it.

Every night that I walked in for my 12-hour shift, I felt a pit in my stomach. I was the only night staff on duty and had no resources available to keep myself or the youth safe. My nights were spent in survival mode, as opposed to nurturing these youth. The environment was chaotic, overwhelming, and defeating.

As time went on, I began to recognize that their behaviors were not a reflection of who they were, but of the larger system gaps surrounding them. These youth had been apprehended from their homes, their parents were court-ordered not to have contact, and they had slipped through the cracks of social services. They were surrounded by other traumatized kids and unsupported, unequipped staff. There was no programming in place and no plans for their future. They were occupying a building - not a home. This realization prompted me to immerse myself in their environment instead of hiding in the office. I made a quiet promise to myself that I would break down their walls, no matter how long it took, because someone needed to show them they were worth fighting for.

So, I began implementing programming. It wasn't easy, comfortable, or immediately accepted. I received a lot of resistance, because they didn't trust me yet. Nevertheless, I continued to show up and create space for them. I would continue to set up activities, sit in the common area, and wait. I waited for weeks, but they eventually began to trickle in. One by one, the common space filled.

I don’t remember where I first heard this quote, but I vividly remember writing it on the whiteboard before a journaling activity. When the youth asked me what it meant, I turned the question back to them. I invited them to write whatever the quote stirred in them; whatever their heart told them to say.

What happened next became one of the most beautiful experiences of my career. The journaling slowly shifted into a sharing circle. The youth were open, vulnerable, compassionate, and supportive of one another. They spoke honestly about what they needed and how we could work together to accomplish it.

When it came time for me to go on maternity leave, I didn’t expect the youth to truly care. But they surprised me with handwritten letters thanking me for not giving up on them. They thanked me for listening, for showing up, and for creating a space where they felt valued and heard. These letters remain some of my most prized possessions. They are a constant reminder that people’s voices and lived experiences must be centered at all times.

"It's not just the activists, the do-gooders, the tree huggers, the raging grannies... everyone can be a change maker" (Wong, 2018, 0:41).

This quote resonates with me because it challenges the ideas of who counts as a change maker. Growing up, I learned what it felt like to be silenced, to not know where I belonged, and to feel like my voice didn’t hold credibility. Because of that, I never imagined myself as someone who could create a legacy of change.

This quote disrupts that thinking. It reminds me that change making is not only reserved for the loudest person in the room, the most visible activist, or the one who has mastered one system level. 

For me, advocacy often shows up in relational spaces, behind the scenes, and across multiple system levels. It’s in how I hold space for others, ask difficult questions, make decisions rooted in care, and ensure that people feel seen.

My advocacy is loud in different ways; listening deeply, in gently disrupting harmful patterns, and in amplifying the voices of people who are rarely invited to speak. This quote affirms that this is also leadership and advocacy. It validates the kind of social justice leadership that aligns with who I am -  grounded, relational, strategic, and committed... even if not always loud or public.

Throughout my leadership journey, I have dipped my toes in many waters. I have been docile and reserved, loud and oppositional, a lone wolf, and a social butterfly. I have grappled with who I am as my advocacy is often situational; I may be loud, I may be quiet, I may march in a protest,  or I may stand back. I have finally come to terms with this, and it is liberating. 

In many ways, this quote speaks to my inner child; the little girl who felt invisible and believed that the only way to be seen was to raise her voice. It is a message to my younger self that she, too, has always been  change maker even in her quietest moments.