When we watched the fireworks on New Year’s Eve nobody thought that 2020 would go into the history books the way that it is happening. In the midst of it all we might have felt afraid, alone or disoriented by the shadows hanging over our world. The COVID-19 pandemic took away some of our loved ones, jobs and income, social relations and plans that we were so looking forward to. The time of social unrest and protests has brought forward the issues that our society still didn’t reconcile with, such as racial injustice and inequality. In times of darkness we always have to strive to seek hope and light.
Runners have seen the COVID-19 pandemic change the way we race. Virtual races have become a reality. I ask myself, “Are we ever going to run races again?” There is nothing like the energy felt at the start line, when you are about to hit the road into the unknown, running a race—life has become a marathon. I believe the current circumstances can create opportunities, rather than being seen only as hardships. It’s like “hitting the wall” during the race—when you feel overwhelmed by physical exhaustion, doubts and mental struggles. But you know that, in order to finish the race, you have to “push” through it. In those moments, what was always helpful for me, was visualizing the finish line.
I believe there is a “finish line” in this current crisis. I believe the country will be unified again. I believe we will find a vaccine. I believe we will run races again. And we will do all of these things, together, with a greater appreciation and gratitude. Because there is no way of going back to normal; there is only the way to move forward.
What were your goals for 2020? Run a destination marathon? Go to the gym every morning before work? Take a yoga class? Travel to Europe? Visit more museums? Spend less time in front of your computer?
Yeah, the world had other plans for you this year. But if, like me, you’re lucky enough to have escaped the direct path of our global pandemic, you adapt. You simplify. You prioritize. You capitalize on the sudden, enforced clarity. You set different goals.
Aside from my share of home schooling and constant Zoom meetings, the coronavirus crisis has spawned two big changes in my life. The first was an expensive impulse buy, purchasing a cottage like I was scooping up a pack of gum in the checkout line (what else are we going to do this summer?). The second is that somehow, I’ve become addicted to podcasts.
Considering I host a couple of them, maybe that shouldn’t be surprising. But not so long ago, in this same space, I haughtily extolled the virtues of running in silence. Now I can’t leave the house without my air pods and a playlist of hour-long interviews.
A couple of months ago, I could barely tell Tim Ferriss from Ferris Bueller. Now, every time I talk to someone, I’m quoting a podcast. I’ve heard life stories and lessons from Brene Brown, Jim Collins, Madeleine Albright, Kevin Hart, Ryan Holliday, Alanis Morrissette, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Penn Gillette, Elizabeth Gilbert, David Sedaris and more. Here’s a quick list of my favourite interview subjects and lessons from hours of listening on the run:
· Richard Turner (The Tim Ferriss Show): Looking for inspiration? Turner is one of the best card magicians in the world, and he also happens to be blind.
· Seth Godin (Ferriss): Many life hacks, including how to make a better cup of coffee and how to choose when to say no.
· Chris Voss (Armchair Expert): Lessons on the art of everyday persuasion from a former FBI hostage negotiator.
· George Raveling (Ferriss): The legendary college basketball coach shares a powerful perspective on systemic bias, including how he has rehearsed how to stay alive if he gets pulled over by the police.
· Jason Bateman (Armchair Expert): The star of Ozark and former child actor is hilarious and insightful about reviving his career and getting a second chance in Hollywood.
· Michael Lewis (Ferriss, Breaking All the Rules): The author of Moneyball shares great lessons about writing with Ferriss, and unpacks the role of coaching in our lives on his own new podcast.
· Ken Burns (Ferriss): Not surprisingly, the documentarian is a fascinating storyteller, including a gem about watching children with learning disabilities memorize the Gettysburg Address.
Of course, if you get through that list and still want more, you can always listen to iRun Radio.
The Beer Mile World Classic, the world’s premier drinking race, will be run virtually this year. Originally planned as a live event in Manchester, England on July 4th, this year’s event will feature a variety of worldwide solo events with one of the world’s largest prize purses of any running global running event this year. World Classic co-founder, John Markell stated: “In the past, we’ve allocated most of our budget into travel for our athletes. This year, without travel costs, we were able to give more prize money to the athletes. The $8,000 we are offering is one of the world’s biggest prize purses this summer.”
The top performances will be presented, head to head, with a professional announcing crew providing color commentary. Since anyone can submit their race, this year’s virtual format is a great opportunity for athletes to get on the radar for future World Classic events. Meet director Nick MacFalls said: “We put a high priority on bringing the world’s beer-milers together, in person. This is one of the world’s truly great sporting communities. Cancelling the live event was disappointing, but this year’s format is exciting, too. We still get to crown World Champions. In a sense, it’s a nod to the sport’s roots with small groups getting together.”
The United States won last year’s Kingston and Queens Cups. There are opportunities this year for new athletes to make their mark. MacFalls stated, “On the women’s side, several top athletes are injured or recovering. There is a real opportunity to win some money and become eligible for future national teams. On the Men’s side, Lewis Kent and Corey Bellemore are injured. They are out. Some new athletes will need to step up to fill the void if Canada hopes to secure their third Kingston Cup. On the individual side, 2019 World Classic Runner-up Katie Anderson and Phil Parrot Migas look to be Canada’s best hopes to reach the podium.”
My wife Amy is an epidemiologist. The kids are 10 months and our son turned four in March. We weren’t oblivious to COVID-19. We were doing social-distancing in early March. One Saturday, I awoke feeling groggy. I deteriorated from there. By Wednesday morning, I wasn’t able to work. Really, really run down.
Is it COVID? I didn’t know at the time. You’re feeling scared. None of us were feeling well, except our son, who was asymptomatic. By Thursday, I was bedridden. Couldn’t move. I still didn’t believe it was COVID, but we FaceTimed with doctor friends who said: You look bad.
At the time, access to testing was still limited. We called an ambulance that Thursday night and the dispatch was reluctant to send an ambulance for me – I was neither delirious nor unconscious. (It was late in the night and wasn’t practical to pile the kids in the car; Amy was feeling shitty herself). At the time, they were understandably trying to keep people out of the hospitals. They said I didn’t absolutely need to come in.
I stayed home that night. At this point, I’m immobile. I called the ambulance again the next night and they came—they were masked and suited up.
Once at the hospital, the process of getting tested was unpleasant. A swab high up in the nasal cavity—a brain tickler, almost. The test took 24-hours for results to come back. As expected, it came back positive. I stayed in the hospital in isolation for four nights.
Amy was never confirmed for COVID-19, but she too had a high fever and other symptoms. Our daughter was worse. She had a fever of 40 for several nights. Not many dishes were getting washed in our house. It was a really rough week.
Once home, it took me seven to ten days of lying in bed and Tylenol to recover. Eventually, I did. It was five or six weeks I went without running. Once running again, the lungs were OK. The legs were rough. I get out 4-times-per-week now. It’s all good.
COVID-19 is a scary virus. There seems to be complacency, but the virus hasn’t gone anywhere. I had no underlying issues or complications. I’m 38 and exercise. And I was really, really sick. It could’ve been worse. Fortunately, it wasn’t. But this is a scary disease. This is real.
Listen to the recommendations of the public health officials and trust the science.
Marco Nicolo came to Canada to further his career and training as a radiologist, feeling that opportunities were scarce in his native Italy. When he first showed up to a Tribe Fitness Saturday run, the distance between the hem of our running shorts and our kneecaps revealed our different origins before we even made introductions. He returned home to Italy in 2016, there in time for the onset of COVID-19. Ravi Singh caught up with his friend.
RS: Where in Italy are you? Do you know how many patients came through your hospital compared to the rest of the country?
MN: I’m in Brescia, which is one hour from Milan, located in the region of Lombardy. Lombardy was the hardest hit for COVID. In my hospital, we had 900 cases come through.
[Note: Lombardy accounts for the highest proportion of COVID cases in Italy, with roughly 91,000 of the country’s 237,000 cases occurring in the region.]
RS: In the treatment process, what was your responsibility at the height of the pandemic?
MN: We did 80 to 100 portable chest x-rays per day, compared to 15 or 20 that we might do before the pandemic. Staff had to be doubled. We only had one tech before and now we work pairs. One was the “dirty technician” who handled the patient while equipped with PPE and the other was the “clean tech” who just touched the machine and set up the exam. That would help avoid cross-contamination.
RS: At the height of the pandemic, what did your typical day look like?
MN: During the week from Monday to Friday we had normal shifts of 8 hours, but for the weekends we had 12 hours during the day and night. Usually, our hospital has 13 ICU beds, but that more than doubled to 30. Starting from May 1st, every time we entered the hospital we had our temperatures checked. If we showed fever like temperatures, we were sent home.
RS: How long did you go without running? How did you take care of yourself at that time?
MN: Last run was on March 8th. Ran again on May 4th. I wasn’t allowed to go out unless it was work. We could be active but only within 200m of our houses.
RS: Has COVID changed how you feel about your job?
MN: No, because I chose this profession and vocation. I always believed in it and always will. I worked for this.
RS: What do you hope people will do differently in the case of a second wave?
MN: I have a colleague in the ER department who lost his father, mother, aunt, and uncle in less than one month. People experience that and use all the precautions and follow guidelines.
RS: What was your biggest fear while working in a hospital?
MN: I was especially afraid for my partner because we aren’t from the region we live in so our family is elsewhere. Because of the lockdown, she couldn’t go back to where her family was, so there was risk for her safety in me coming home every night.
RS: How was your first run after lockdown?
Full of freedom and liberty. It was like taking a part of myself back.
Change is difficult. We resist living in a different way, particularly when it’s out of our control and comfort zone, and when we don’t know when we will return to normal, whatever that is. I’m fairly experienced when it comes to change and adjusting to life when pregnant or injured. Each baby and broken bone took me out of training and competing for the same amount of time. I knew what to expect and how to get back to my normal. While we do not know what life will look like when this pandemic is over, whenever it is over, I believe that we will be better for it. With each break I had, I came back stronger, recharged, rejuvenated, more appreciative and passionate about returning to competitive racing. We can all benefit when we allow change to change us.
Routine is how we thrive. It makes us more efficient, creates structure and meaning to our day, helps us maintain good habits, and greatly benefits our mental well-being. When my morning starts with a quiet coffee, morning run, and recovery bowl of oatmeal, I feel good, normal, and like I’ve accomplished something. In fact, it’s the highlight of my day, which thankfully hasn’t changed during the pandemic. When schools were closed, our children quickly and successfully adjusted their routines, which I believe helped create a positive school-at-home experience. While there were some struggles with adjusting to a slower and different routine, the kids learned how to take initiative and succeed independently, which will benefit them later in life.
Perspective is everything. I have said from the beginning that this could be much worse. While it is definitely more difficult for some than others, a lot of us are more inconvenienced and bored than anything else. We have food to eat, clothes to wear, clean water to drink and bathe in, and a good roof over our heads. Keeping 6-feet apart from others, wearing masks, waiting in line, and staying home more than ever isn’t fun but isn’t the worst thing that could happen to us.
Grieving is ok. While I believe I am an optimist, I have my down moments. I find afternoons particularly dreary and boring with very little to do compared to our slower than usual morning and evening routines. While I’ve certainly missed racing, I’ve found myself struggling more with the losses my children have faced—my daughter’s first overnight hockey tournament was cancelled, my 12-year-old son missed swimming at regionals, and my 14-year-old son didn’t get to compete in his final track & field day or get a formal grade 8 graduation ceremony. I also wonder if I’ve seen my final days of competing as a professional at international and competitive marathons as we’ve known them. I can and will only choose to be grateful for what my children and I have accomplished. While I may not get my 20th marathon in 2020, I can live with the hope that I will be back on that start line with everyone else, looking back on this as a memory.
While we are starting to see the lifting of some restrictions as we move through various phases, I am grateful for the people who have worked hard and diligently to make some very difficult decisions to keep us healthy and safe. While we may not see large road races until later on, I will continue to aim to be refined and changed for the better by this experience.
Races have gone virtual and that’s awesome. But we asked five industry leaders when the actual thing might return. Does anyone still hold out hope for a big Canadian race in 2020? Ben Kaplan spoke with our industry’s stars.
Ben Kaplan: So, outside of the PEI Marathon and the time trial in Waterloo, when will Canada host its first large running race?
Lesley Quinlan, Canada Army Run: Races may begin a return to a physical format by spring of 2021, but likely still smaller numbers and modified formats.
Kirsten Fleming, Scotiabank Calgary Marathon: Runners safety is our creed and ethical code so we are making conservative decisions until there is certainty. There is no clear timeline for certainty—therefore no clear timeline for races.
Marianne Pelchat, Quebec City Marathon: I like to think that we will be able to hold our event in October. Yes, I am a very optimistic person and at Gestev we have that saying “To the impossible all are bound” ( à l’impossible tous sont tenus)—although the real saying is “to the impossible no one is required (à l’impossible nul n’est tenu).
Charlotte Brookes, Canada Running Series: We need to go one step at a time.
If it’s not safe, we retrace our footsteps. It’s like returning to running after an injury.
Ian Fraser, Scotiabank Ottawa Marathon: I think we will see micro events in the fall of 2020. I could see us doing events safely with less than 100 people and maybe a few more than that.
Scotiabank Calgary Marathon held on May 28, 2017 in Calgary, Alberta (Angela Burger/Calgary Marathon)
BK: Ian, you hinted at what we can look forward to. What will races look like when we return?
KF: Less 2019 bedazzle and more vintage 1980s and ’90s style racing, but with future-forward 2021 safety that I can’t even begin to list as we are still developing.
IF: We feel less certain about how we get participants from home to the start line and then from the finish line back home safely. I think the less complex part of this story is the actual race course itself and what happens out there.
MP: The “emballage” around a running event—kiosks, boutiques, sponsors activations, VIP area—will not happen for some time. Events will be taking a more “sport only” approach.
CB: We’ve been working so hard over the last few years to really enhance the event experience and provide people with more than just a start, course and finish line event. So do we want to put on an event before there’s a vaccine and require physical distancing measures?
BK: That’s a good question. You think anything good will come out of this forced, sustained pause?
LQ: It’s brought the sport back to its roots.
CB: Indeed, plus its a fabulous opportunity for an almost complete re-set. And the virtual world is here to stay.
LQ: It’s our time to rebrand the running industry.
IF: Our participants haven’t gone anywhere. They didn’t leave us to take up shuffleboard or frisbee golf. In fact, there are likely many new runners who we have never spoken to. It’s racings chance to think a little bigger, a little less traditional and to take some risk.
KF: Exactly.
I believe the end of COVID-19 will be the beginning of another running boom.
A sunny Sunday afternoon in bucolic Brunswick, Georgia. 25 year-old Ahmaud Arbery sets off for a regular run through his neighbourhood. You know that run. A smooth jog, the pace—just enough to get your heart pumping faster, stronger, sending needed oxygen to your working muscles through blood rich veins. You have on a white t-shirt, like Ahmaud and long shorts, loose enough to let your arms and legs flow with ease allowing a rhythmic trot—yes, now you’ve got your flow on and all your cares have disappeared, your mind and body are one.
Your jog takes you through familiar tree-lined streets. Like Ahmaud, you’re a former high school football speedster, so, you may pick up the pace from time to time during the run to challenge yourself. Every now and then you glance around during your run, admiring a bird, perhaps, or looking out for the odd automobile on your ‘easy like Sunday morning’ peaceful run.
This Sunday jog, like the countless runs before, is a time for you to be one with yourself, like Ahmaud. You’re a purist, like Ahmaud. No phone or headphones to mess with the sanctity of your run. All you want, like Ahmaud, is to be out in the free air, living your life, running for your mental and physical health.
Sunday, February 23, 2020 has all the hallmarks of a perfect day. It’s 17 celcius. There’s light wind, hazy sunshine, why wouldn’t you go out for your usual run? What could possibly go horrendously wrong?
February 23rd, Ahmaud’s run is violently cut short.
Ahmaud Arbery is running a couple of miles from his home, mighty oak trees seem to bend to greet him, or maybe, they try to warn him.
Terrible, insidious, trouble lurks.
Kindly allow a brief departure from this southern sojourn into madness and travel back in time one week. Head west to Los Angeles where comedian Jay Pharoah was exercising outdoors when he found himself surrounded by four police officers, guns drawn, barking orders to get on the ground and spread his arms and legs like an“airplane.” The former Saturday Night Live cast member complied, was cuffed and for a few long moments, in addition to being bound, face down on the sidewalk, had a knee to his neck which kept Pharoah pinned like captured prey until police confirmed they had the wrong guy and released him. It’s a shame the California sun didn’t warn Pharoah of the inherent troubles of exercising while black. Pharoah was able to walk away from the unsettling and humiliating police encounter; George Floyd, a 46-year-old black man arrested May 25—for allegedly trying to pass a counterfeit 20 dollar bill at a Minneapolis convenience store—was not. The deputized knee to Floyd’s neck compressed for 8 minutes and 46 seconds and squeezed the life from his bound body in full view of cellphone cameras.
Before madness is brought to bear in Georgia, Ahmaud, an aspiring electrician, stops to take a look at a home under construction. A couple of minutes later—and what was likely a welcome pit stop—Ahmaud resumes his run. With steady breath and sure feet, Ahmaud Arbery jogs through the neighbourhood of Satilla Shores. Ahmaud jogs by a home, a man sees him and immediately determines he’s a threat. The man calls out to his son, they grab their weapons and set out in a pick up truck to confront Ahmaud Arbery in relation to a series of burglaries they propose he committed in their neighbourhood.
Georgia law states: “A private person may arrest an offender if the offence is committed in his presence or within his immediate knowledge.”
Neither of the armed men witnessed Ahmaud committing any offences. There is one element the lynch posse did observe and that is Ahmaud Arbery’s black skin. The white men attest a series of break-ins were committed by a black man. A black man jogs by their home and the white men conclude the black man is guilty and must be brought to justice.
Ahmaud’s beautiful, peaceful run is abruptly interrupted. The pick-up truck tries to cut off Ahmaud, but his fleet feet take him in another direction and he runs from the lynch mob hellbent on taking the law into their own hands. Ahmaud Arbery, continues his run, now the pace has quickened, arms and legs pumping, mind racing. A few moments later, back on the street running, perhaps Ahmaud Arbery is hoping to regain his perfectly peaceful Sunday pace prior to the threatening and troubling interruption, but that is not to be the case. Ahmaud Arbery comes face to face with his hunters—one, looming in the flatbed with a handgun, the other, exiting the truck with a shotgun.
Ahmaud veers into a yard, makes a sharp left and a violent tussle ensues. Arbery fights for his life trying desperately to wrestle the shotgun out of the hands of the assailant. A video, released May 5, shows the violent end to Ahmaud Arbery’s perfect Sunday jog. Arbery’s fit frame encased in glistening dark brown skin, falls forward following three cold shots that pierce his body—one grazes the inside of his right wrist, two shotgun blasts gouge fatal holes in his chest.
In an instant of unchecked brutality and hate, a perfect Sunday run, a run we runners cherish, is stripped away from the avid runner.
Ahmaud Arbery bleeds out on the street and loses his young, hope-filled life because his skin tone ignited the wrath of men who prefer to cut down and destroy rather to live and let live. The oak trees in Brunswick, Georgia, which offer sweet shade to Sunday runners bend in sorrow and shame for the horrible injustice inflicted on yet another innocent black body, mind and soul.
Running while black should not be a death sentence. If you cherish the freedom, beauty and humanity of the right to exercise free of brutality and death, you should demand justice for Ahmaud Arbery. Black LivesMatter in Canada, the United States, and all over the world.
There’s been no steadier voice in Canada than Dr. Theresa Tam, Canada’s Chief Health Officer, who has led us through the novel coronavirus crisis. While we’re not out of the woods yet, by any means, there’s been reasons for optimism, and Dr. Tam offers iRun readers this advice: “Keep running.” Sutcliffe talked to Dr. Tam from her office in Ottawa.
MS: Dr. Tam, thank you. What do runners need to do to keep safe?
TT: Don’t let the good training and habits you’ve learned these last months go to waste. Keep going, and stay adapting as we learn more about COVID-19. I always tell my staff this pandemic is like a marathon—pace yourself, this is not a 100-metre dash.
MS: Is it safe to go running?
MS: Yes. Running outside is a good thing to do. Don’t go out when you’re sick or have symptoms, but if you feel fine, get some exercise. It’s important for physical and mental health.
MS: Share your best tips for how to run safely.
TT: Try and keep 2-metre space between yourself and another runner. Pick non-busy hours and routes for your runs. Avoid other people, particular walkers.
MS: Can you run with a friend?
TT: Yes. Someone who is in your bubble. But keep listening to the public health advice. COVID-19 is changing all the time.
MS: Can you tell us about your own running?
TT: I got into running somewhat accidentally. Work colleagues—avid runners—threw me in the bus one day when they decided to run. I went out of curiosity and found I was able to run further than I thought. You get hooked a little bit.
MS: So how did you get from there to a marathon?
TT: In running it is very easy to make progress, slowly. I found it very satisfying and a great alternative to the other exercises I was doing.
MS: What do you love about our sport?
TT: I find it meditative. I focus on my breathing. I don’t listen to music or get distracted when I run. I get into a zone and fall into my pace. It’s relaxing for me. Also, prior to COVID-19, I enjoyed running on the weekend with a small group of friends. I enjoyed socializing.
MS: Are you running at all these days?
TT: This particular crisis has completely disrupted my running so far. Doing this interview today stimulates me to think about beginning to start my running routine up again. To be honest, I haven’t been outside too much. I’ve been trying to squeeze in ten minutes of exercise at home when I can.
MS: What Canadian events have you run?
TT: Ottawa Race Weekend and the Canada Army Run are the two runs I participated in the most. Those are tremendous events where the whole community gets involved and there’s a tremendous atmosphere. I think races build community and I’m part of the community, so I participate in the events. Plus, so many people are running for a good cause.
MS: Would you describe for us how it felt to complete your first marathon?
TT: I think anyone finishing their first marathon remembers crossing the finish line and you can’t quite believe it. I’m not a fast runner, but I know I have a lot of mental stamina. I know I’m going to finish.
MS: But you said you couldn’t believe it!
TT: Well, nevertheless, it was still quite surprising. It was an incredible feeling. I bet anyone running their first marathon feels the same way.
MS: Has running helped you in your work or has your work helped you in your running?
TT: I’m someone who likes to have a goal—a target to aim for, and reaching that goal is a tremendous feeling. It’s not just about getting to the end, it’s the journey that matters and that’s the same with so many aspects of life: whether managing an outbreak or pacing yourself appropriated in a race. Slow down a bit when you need to. Make sure you’re hydrating. And if you hit a bit of a wall, have patience and compassion for yourself to get past it. You have to believe you will reach that finish line. It’s a journey we take in all aspects of life.
MS: So, have you applied the lessons of your running to your work?
TT: It might be the other way around.
MS: Tell us more.
TT: I didn’t get into longer runs until later in my life. I think my mental abilities to focus on my work and work long hours and manage events, or outbreaks, or residency training in medicine gave me the mental stamina to do longer runs. Of course, it goes the other way, too. Having completed a marathon, you can apply those learnings to your everyday life.
MS: Do you think a marathon is an appropriate metaphor for the pandemic?
TT: It’s a good analogy. COVID-19—we still don’t know a lot about this virus. What we do know is there’s not a lot of immunity worldwide in the population. This virus isn’t going away. We actually don’t know what might happen next, except that all the incredible work that every Canadian has done has kept the virus at a level that our healthcare system can manage.
MS: That’s really good to hear.
TT: That doesn’t mean it has disappeared. We have to look further down the road in the immediate weeks and plan ahead for the scenario that might come. A vaccine might take another twelve or eighteen months, so we all have to work together for a significant amount of time. Remember, this is a marathon.
MS: Any last words of advice?
TT: Be compassionate with each other. Be compassionate, and we’ll get through this together.
MS: Thank you very much for your work, and for your time, Dr. Tam.
TT: Thank you, Mark. This has stimulated me to start running again. Thank you for that.
Whether you came here ten years ago or 100 years ago, we’re all immigrants. Unless you’re Indigenous. Ever since I came to this portfolio, racism has been personal: how do we get everyone in our beautiful country to feel represented?
We all have the same story. We came to Canada for the opportunity to work hard and make the best life possible for our families.
We have made a lot of mistakes and we still, as a country, have a lot of work to do. But it starts with an honest conversation about racism, without becoming defensive. I know that when we talk about racism it gets very personal. That’s a good thing. I wear a turban. But when I listen to movements like Black Lives Matter I have to put myself in their position and that helps me understand. By doing that, I get a different perspective—I become educated—and I think, as a country, that’s what we have to do.
It’s also called ‘empathy,’ and it allows all Canadians to understand what I go through, or what women go through. From there, we can have thorough discussions to find honest solutions. This is the way we can make change, together.
Education is the key to empathy, and it’s critically important not to alienate people who want to help. There are Canadians who didn’t realize these situations existed. That’s a hard conversation. But I’ve been having them my entire career, and it’s essential. I’ll give you an example. Say someone wants me to take my turban off. I never say I’m the Minister of Defence. I challenge them on their rule. It’s about educating them so the next time someone comes through your airport or courthouse, you won’t stereotype them. People can learn. People can change.
This is Canada. And we need to do better. We have a lot of work to do in this country regarding racism. But in Canada, everyone is welcome. When you come to Canada, we don’t want you to melt into our culture. We want you to celebrate your own culture, and do it with us. Together, if we genuinely want to learn about each other, we can break down our barriers. We must celebrate our differences.
Canada isn’t perfect. But you can still work hard in this country and break through barriers. Be proud of where you come from. Educate your neighbours. Every Canadian should feel there’s a pathway forward for them becoming Prime Minister of this country. That’s the country I want for our children. That’s what diversity means for me.
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