baggage

Returning to my “hometown” of Toronto is always fraught—I bring with me a LOT of baggage but by the time I presented on Monday, I was only carrying a small clutch. When I first arrived at York University last Friday, I didn’t recognize the campus (I audited courses there from ’93-’94); there were a lot of new buildings and ongoing construction near the dorm that housed the IRSCL attendees. I had no trouble finding the conference venue and knew what to expect—the first panel consisted of the past five presidents. All were White, of course, including the current president. I looked around the packed auditorium and started counting the people of color in attendance; I saw only one other Black person but then Dr. Michelle Martin stood up to ask an important question: “With controversies at USBBY and ChLA, what was IRSCL doing to promote diversity and inclusion?” I expected the panelists to hedge but I was shocked to hear the current president say they were planning to do further outreach…in Poland. The co-conveners were both White and the conference program revealed that all the keynote speakers appeared to be White as well. By the time that opening panel ended, I was livid. I considered going back to my room but then met up with Michelle and Rukhsana Khan (left) so we headed over to the reception. Before long, our roundtable moderator Gurbir found us and we wound up seated off to the side, sharing anecdotes about racism in the academy and children’s publishing. By the time we got back from dinner, I was a bit calmer but knew I couldn’t spend the following day attending panels. Instead I took the bus to the train and went to see a fantastic exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario: Free Black North. Seeing those images of such poised Black people gave me an idea for my presentation the following day, and it didn’t hurt that I got a warm welcome to the AGO from the Black woman at the admissions desk and the Black man taking tickets at the entrance to the exhibit. After the AGO I walked over to the Royal York Hotel to meet friends for afternoon tea. Another friend in New Orleans told me her son was staying at the same hotel, and I joked that it wouldn’t be hard to spot him since we’d likely be the only two Black people there. But when I arrived, the lobby was FULL of African Americans attending a National Bar Association convention. And sure enough, I walked by the concierge desk and saw Alfredo! These might sound like small things, but when I consider how lonely, lost, and isolated I often feel in Toronto…those encounters really meant a lot. Tea wasn’t great but hanging out with my friends was fantastic. They walked me to the subway afterward and I took the train to the bus back to York U—that, too, brought back memories. York has been around for at least 50 years but there is NO subway station on campus, which meant it used to take me over two hours to get to class from my home on the east side of the city. Then I’d get to York, take my seat in a classroom full of Black students, but there were no Black professors. I heard from a Black Canadian writer friend while I was in Toronto; we grew up together and it was somewhat reassuring to know that he, too, still thinks about our complicated and often unhappy childhood. During my talk on Monday I talked about not being put in the gifted program when I moved to Scarborough in the 5th grade—common practice according to a recent report. My younger brother lives in Toronto and is currently working with a local school board to bridge the achievement gap with Black and Asian students (boys in particular). It was great to have dinner with Jonathan and his new wife Chantelle on Sunday night, but it’s frustrating to know that decades have passed and yet things really haven’t changed. Another report reveals that most Blacks in the GTA are now born in Canada, not the Caribbean. Yet these “homegrown” African Canadians don’t feel accepted or respected—if they had the option of living in the US, I wonder how many would face the many risks for access to greater opportunities? My Lyft driver was from Pakistan and on the way to LaGuardia he shared that his brother in Montreal had been trying for years to persuade him to move his family up to Canada. But like me, my driver couldn’t imagine giving up the life he’s been able to build in New York. He drives full-time and his wife stays at home to raise their four kids. Even with the current administration, he’s gotten US citizenship and plans to stay put. So do I—for now…

(l-r): Vivek Shraya, Shauntay Grant, Gurbir Singh Junglee, Rukhsana Khan, me

All this is to say that by the time Monday rolled around, I wasn’t wound quite so tight. The oversize suitcase I wheeled into the conference a few days before was now a small clutch purse—I really did try to let a lot of my angst go. And our panel at the Toronto Public Library was fantastic—I don’t think I’ve ever been part of such a dynamic author line-up. Though I’m not sure I came off as an author…I met a college administrator the following day and she said, “You’re Zetta! I’ve seen your face so many times in photos with Ebony Thomas and Sarah Park Dahlen.” And then she asked where I taught because she assumed that I, too, was a professor. I’m not any more, which made me wonder for the first time if I seem like an academic groupie! I’d like to believe there’s a place for an author like me in the academy, but experience tells me otherwise. Still, I can’t undo my scholarly training and my book talks are more like mini lectures on racism in publishing. For my IRSCL talk I shared some of the portraits from the Free Black North exhibit and then added portraits of my own ancestors before sharing their multi-generational project to move from Blackness to Whiteness. The curators at the AGO stressed that many Black people fleeing slavery in the US returned after the Civil War due to the severe anti-Black racism they encountered in Canada; they also reminded visitors that the first Underground Railroad led enslaved people OUT of Canada and into the US. I titled my talk, “Don’t Get It Twisted: Loving & Leaving the Great White North,” and admitted that one of my professional goals is to disrupt Canada’s myth of multiculturalism. I didn’t say all that much about my books—there wasn’t time—but I think the York University bookstore still managed to sell just about all of their copies. Rukhsana and I went out to dinner after the panel wrapped up and then I hopped back on the train to get the bus back to York. As we pulled into the campus, a few women introduced themselves as colleagues of Ebony Thomas at Penn. And the next morning before Robin Bernstein gave her keynote address, she acknowledged that the books under consideration were mostly by White authors because people of color are systematically excluded from the publishing industry–she then pointed people to my essays on the subject. I said goodbye to my academic friends at the conference afterward and headed back downtown to have tea—again!—with my friend Dawn. We’ve known each other since we were 8 and that makes her my oldest friend. She told me about the AGO exhibit and went to see it herself after our tea at the Windsor Arms. I don’t know if you’ve already figured this out, but despite the overwhelming Whiteness of the conference, I was happy in Toronto! And that NEVER happens. Another friend of mine has applied for a research position at York University and I really hope she gets it—she’d be an incredible asset to the campus and then I’d have another person to ground me when I venture into the Great White North. Change takes a long time to come to Canada, but it does come eventually…

(l-r): Robin Bernstein, me, Phil Nel, Karin Westman, Karen Sands-O’Connor, Michelle Martin