What it means to disrupt the systems we find ourselves in.

by Sundeep Hans

The public sector, especially the healthcare sector, understands the importance of innovation for growth and to mitigate a future that isn’t as clear cut as it used to be and so it keeps looking to new technologies or processes to help foster this innovation. But, because funding isn’t infinite and the accountability is to the public in this sector, there is a general unwillingness to take risks from the leadership. That’s why we see the ‘same old same old’ and why there is frustration from those that push for new ways of doing the business. These prickly folks, the thorns in the proverbial sides of the leadership, are the disruptors.

For example, while having organizational leadership that supports equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) training and policies is important, this is only the starting point because these are often seen as ‘nice to have’ or as add-ons as opposed to being important values imbedded into the fabric of an organization. Any push for the mandating of robust training for diversity, equity and inclusion training for all staff to see real change was usually seen as too aggressive or too ‘head in the clouds,’ so I stopped pushing, but kept nudging occasionally.

What I’ve finally come to realize and fully accept is that the effective wielding of my energy and passion to bring about change will never be deemed appropriate. To push for change is an act of disruption, and disruption isn’t appropriate.

We work within post-colonial systems of power that have held strong and have been structured in ways that were not intended to include certain groups of people. When these groups (women, people of colour) enter these spaces, their presence alone disrupts the pre-established norms of said spaces. When people recognize the problematic aspects of these norms, the status quo, and actively (or sometimes passively) work to destruct these the foundations of these structures, they are in effect disruptors. When I say ‘disruptor,’ I mean someone who is working to change a structure of power. A disruptor is someone who is working to dismantle a system of oppression that is embedded within these systems of power—this means that both outsiders and insiders can be disruptors.

This is something Marilyn Verghis, Executive Director of Vision Brampton and a young woman of colour understands intrinsically. In late 2017 when news broke that some Brampton politicians had made racist and xenophobic comments she was as furious as I was. She wasn’t taking this nonsense from the highest tables of power in our city by tweeting side-eye emojis (which was the extent of my original plan). Instead, she formed a new advocacy organization made up of young women of colour (yours truly included) in Brampton to advance systemic change for equity and civic engagement across the city, which saw hundreds of young, first time voters come to the polls. There had not been, up until that point, a youth-led, equity-based organization in Brampton like there is in places like Toronto, and instead these spaces were often taken up by the often impenetrable ‘old guard’ of Brampton (primarily old, white men). Under Marilyn’s leadership, Vision Brampton had a literal seat at the largest Mayoral debate in the city prior to the municipal elections, and we didn’t shy away from asking the hard-hitting questions about equity issues impacting youth that are often missed in these situations—i.e. discriminatory language of used by council and carding versus community supports to reduce crime.

“Over the years I’ve been advocating for, organizing around and working toward equity. I think I’ve developed some valuable tools for balancing my own precariousness as a minority intersectional voice in privileged spaces with my deep commitment to transformative, disruptive social progress” she says.

“I think critical social justice space needs to contend with and appreciate that the world needs both types of disruptors: the type that can enter organizations that perhaps weren’t designed with the intention of diversity and create meaningful systemic change from within, as well as the disruptors that build the social pressure for progressive change from outside those spaces. I have found that systemic change happens in the most transformative ways when both types of disruptors work in concert with each other.”

When I asked Mita Hans (yes relation, she’s my father’s distant cousin) about this she spoke about the inherent disruptor in all of us. “We are 70 percent water. Allowed to be by itself, water can be still and reflective, but throw in the slightest bit of resistance and see what happens. Fuck with me and I am a tidal wave!” She brings this energy to her work as a writer, artist, and activist. She is a key organizer for Seva Kitchen, which brings free meals to people experiencing homelessness in downtown Toronto. She has been advocating for Indigenous First Nations, LGBTQ, and other marginalized communities for over 30 years.  Her disruption, like many women of colour, is intersectional and two-fold because by virtue of her work she has disrupted the status quo within the mainstream and within her own Sikh community. Her choice of taking the ‘langar’ (open kitchen/free vegetarian meals concept from the Sikh gurdawara) into urban places directly to where people need it is disruptive of the mainstream practice of soup kitchens and homeless shelters, while her support of and mobilization for marginalized communities like the LGBTQ community, as a member of the Sikh community, which has been traditionally, socially conservative on these issues, was a departure from the unwritten rules of what causes were deemed appropriate for community support and a disruption in itself.

This feeling is a privilege otherwise enjoyed by the majority, or what has been labelled the mainstream population where whiteness is centred and everyone else is effectively othered. I know how this feels. I understand this because I remember clearly the nonchalance with which I carried this entitlement, how I walked through the world in my early years. It felt so commonplace that I didn’t even think about it.

I refused to watch the 2015 film Suffragette, about British women’s fight to vote when the actresses wore a t-shirt emblazoned with the words “I’d Rather Be a Rebel Than A Slave.” Suffice it to say, seeing “privileged white women compare sexism to racism” didn’t go over too well with many given the OG suffragettes liked to compare their situation to that of slaves to make their point.

The more recent women’s rights marches of the past years have seen hundreds of thousands of women across the world, but primarily in North America, protest to send the message that “women’s rights are human rights.” The message was powerful, the turnout was unprecedented. I marched in Toronto and I saw it for myself. There was police presence at this protest, and a sea of mostly white women in ‘pink pussy’ hats disrupted peacefully because, as author Luvvie Ajayi said in a Facebook post, “they are allowed to.”

Debbie Owasu-Akyeeah, a policy analyst and a self-described Black feminist relates to this as well. In her work and her activism, she looks back to push forward. “Disrupting and shaking things up is in my blood. My ancestors have been defending my homeland for years and fought hard for our independence by challenging oppression and speaking truth to power.  She also fully owns the disruptor label and wears it proudly. She tells me, “I pride myself in centring this in my activism. I will always do this. Change can’t happen without disrupting the status quo.”

Paige Fisher, Director of Advocacy and Outreach at Vision Brampton on the other hand says “I don’t think I originally made a conscious decision to become any form of a disruptor. The various intersections of my identity allow me to view the world through a particular lens. I’ve always been an opinionated person who is critical of the status quo, simply because I’ve observed the way our existing systems continuously fail and marginalize so many communities.”

She goes on to explain, much more eloquently than I have, the true risks disruptors that aren’t protected by certain privileges continue to face and why wearing that label can be dangerous.

“Voicing my dissatisfaction and putting forward a dissenting opinion has led others to label me a disrupter of sorts. This is a pretty frightening position considering the precariousness I face as a young Black woman and first generation Canadian. We already face barriers navigating the workforce and society at large, which I imagine are only exacerbated by gaining a reputation as an agitator. Still, I won’t be silent. I cannot be silent. I cannot disregard how incredibly privileged I am to have any form of a platform to share my opinions, to hold space for other marginalized folks and to access institutions others are systematically excluded from. For me there’s really no other course of action.”