Since the death of George Floyd, languages have been loosening in the face of systemic racism. We are witnessing a #MeTwo — a term used to denounce racist attacks and harassment — in all areas. Even journalists, although usually bound by a duty of restraint, come out of the shadows to denounce the sometimes heavy climate that reigns in their environment. Some, like Maya Johnson, Christine Genier Or Denise Balkissoon, in English Canada, denounced the situation with great pomp and circumstance. Resignations, open letters, heartfelt cries on Twitter: the testimonies of racialized journalists are more and more numerous.
In the French-speaking media and in Quebec, speaking out is also increasing, although more timidly. The journalists approached for this article had a lot to say, but were still worried about the repercussions on their careers. We spoke to eight journalists from several major media outlets, including Radio-Canada, TVA, Bell Media, CTV, and Global News.
Prioritize your mental health... and your talent
Throughout the testimonies, a central theme. All of the people interviewed spoke, in one way or another, about the mental health issue raised by the issue of racism. “Someone like you is fine, but no more,” a supervisor once told Ousayma Canbarieh, a documentary filmmaker and journalist. Before starting her own business, Oussayma, who is of Syrian origin and wears a hijab, worked for numerous major media in Quebec. Quickly, she felt that there were limits to her inclusion.
“It's subtle: we exclude you from certain conversations or projects, we don't say your name, we don't consider your ideas. Sometimes it's as simple as a look that says a lot...” she explains. For Oussayma, it was out of the question of spending her life fighting for a place for herself. “Honestly, I admire the people who do it, and it takes some, but personally, it drains me too much and it stifles my creativity,” she explains.
I prefer to put all this energy into my projects and make my place differently.” That's what she did when she started her own business, and she considers that her career has been much better since then. Even better, she has the opportunity to offer mentoring and internships to other young journalists from diverse backgrounds. Inevitably, she encourages them to adopt an entrepreneurial vision. “I often say that if you feel that there is a glass ceiling or that the doors are closed, create your own opportunities!
Start a project, create a network,” she says. Even more, she believes that this vision allows us to go further and cross borders. While Oussayma decided to channel his passion into his own business, other racialized journalists end up leaving their jobs or even leaving the field altogether.
A voice that bothers
Elena* is a young black journalist. For her, the problem starts as early as school. In her student cohort, she was one of the few racialized people. “My interventions were always a bit different, my ideas and questions were surprising or creating discomfort. It ends up making you question your relevance or even your intelligence,” she says.
At some point, she even wondered if she belonged in the journalism program, a program that, in her opinion, offered no different perspective. “You learned how to write and take photos, but not how to think about the meaning of journalism and the human and societal impact, but not how to think about the meaning of journalism and the human and societal impact,” she laments. I even asked myself if I should drop out of school, I felt different, isolated. But I thought maybe it's when you're alone that your voice counts the most.”
Barely out of university, after a few internship experiences, she found herself at Radio-Canada. A dream position for many beginning journalists. But Elena quickly became disenchanted. On a regular basis, she wiped out “jokes, questionable questions, and other microaggressions.” For example, while the team was due to deal with the news of the crash of the Iranian PS-752 plane last January, involving the deaths of Canadians, a colleague made contemptuous comments about Iran, insinuating that, in any case, those who went there were “running after the trouble.”
On another occasion, after showing interest in an internal promotion, another colleague said, “Yeah, you're sure to get it because you're black! ” Whether targeted or not, each of these inappropriate interactions reinforces her discomfort. Sometimes, it's just his work that's called into question.
“A desk manager from another part of the country already called me to insist on changing the term “racialized” in one of my texts for 30 minutes. He said it was a political term, disturbing,” she said. At that moment, she clearly remembers feeling suffocated and saying to herself that she would not be able to endure such a working environment for long. After a year, Elena made the choice to leave Radio-Canada. “To tell you the truth, I no longer want to work with Quebec media,” she says stealthily. Some people have the energy to fight, but others think about their mental health and quit.
The media is losing talented people. I tell myself that all the energy I put into fighting to exist, I could use it to produce quality reports and give a voice to underrepresented communities,” says the young journalist, who now works in an English-language media in Ontario, where she feels more listened to. “I feel that I can contribute more to the English-speaking media,” she tells us. For Elena, the duty of restraint is also sometimes a way of silencing annoying voices. “It's easy to talk about neutrality when your life is not in danger. I am a black journalist, my perspective is necessarily different when it comes to fundamental rights.” She notes radio silence on the part of French-speaking racialized journalists when it comes to denunciating racism.
“I think that Francophone culture is very violent towards racialized people. There is always a fight by oppressed people.” The journalist believes that there is a form of violence in the denial of racism, which prevents racialized people from feeling confident enough to denounce racism in French-speaking media. Today, media from here and abroad are more likely to want to include these different voices and perspectives. Some even make the effort to make room for diversity in all its forms. “Yes, we want voices, but how do you treat the individuals behind these voices? That's the question we need to ask ourselves,” concludes Elena.
While Elena stayed in the estate, others left. Nadim Moghrabi, of Lebanese origin, worked more than 20 years ago at Radio-Canada, in Montreal and in Toronto. The two experiences were completely different for him.
In Toronto, he worked for four years as a journalist in several media, including Radio-Canada. During these four years, he collaborated on several cultural programs. He enjoyed the experience a lot and felt like he was accepted in its entirety. He then left Toronto to return to Montreal. Upon his return, he was offered an internship as a researcher. “My time at Radio-Canada Montréal lasted three months, before reaching the limit,” he said.
I felt that I was not trusted, that they were putting a lot of obstacles in my way. I was not given the means to emancipate myself, it was not a rewarding experience.” He left the media industry 20 years ago to work in the insurance field, and he feels that nothing has changed since then.
Sacrosanct objectivity
This notion of politics comes up often for racialized journalists. Everyone interviewed for this article believes that the duty of neutrality or the concept of objectivity in journalism often favors white people and has double standards. During the years that Pascale* spent in a large press room, this feeling of exclusion affected her work. “I had no room for error. Expectations for my work were much higher than for others.
It was exhausting,” she recalls. Even more, she quickly realized that we were deliberately avoiding offering her opportunities or subjects for which she was perfectly qualified. “When it's a subject that affects my community, for example, then I suddenly become relevant to my team. Suddenly, I have value: they want my contacts, my eyes... but not put me in front of the camera.”
The straw that broke the camel's back was the treatment she received upon her return from maternity leave. “I felt like a number, an object. And I promised myself that it would be the last time a white man would make me cry.” Pascale recalls her discomfort at the time of the social debate on blackface. “I felt a stress, the weight of this famous objectivity,” she admits. I felt suffocated, I needed to channel that energy. I started a personal project in parallel, where I could interview whoever I wanted, give a voice to different people. It felt good.”
Today, she notes that languages are loosening. “Many racialized or Indigenous people are forced to be reserved. Not only journalists, but also managers, for example. However, the audacity of the activists who have nothing to lose and the context of the American movement give them more courage.” Today, she is operating in a completely different environment.
“I had no hope of climbing any higher, of achieving my ambitions. But I didn't want to leave and leave the newsroom without any people of color. Finally, a second black journalist arrived, and I felt a sense of relief. I resigned for my mental health,” she simply admits.
Too many non-whites in his work
Elsewhere in Canada, denunciations on Twitter are raining down. But they often come from established journalists. How do journalists of color at the beginning of their career experience the environment? Zora decided to become a journalist in order to change perspectives. Her first paid job in the industry was a research position at CTV Toronto. So she wanted to highlight the voices of people of color. A motivation that she said she clarified to the team when she was hired.
“I was told that my voice was important by citing other racialized people in the newsroom as 'diversity hires, '” she says. But Zora's experience only lasted six weeks, and she believes racism is the cause. Her contract ended while she was training for another position within the company. “I went the extra mile to not always have white guests for our panels,” she says. A senior employee then told me that there were too many non-white people among my guests and that I was talking a lot about racial issues.” A comment corroborated by another racialized journalist who worked at CTV, who prefers not to mention his name.
“A white colleague pointed out to me that there were too many racialized people among the guests I was choosing,” says the young journalist. According to Zora, the senior CTV employee also commented on her clothing, saying that she was “too modest.” He also told her that he was disappointed that she was not of Latina origin, but rather Arab.
“He told me it would be better if I was Latina,” she adds. Zora says she heard several Islamophobic, homophobic, and racist remarks in the Toronto newsroom. “I once heard an employee describe a South Asian presenter as “the brown woman” and directly say “O.K., brown lady” to her when discussing diversity.”
A climate that was also experienced by the second CTV journalist we interviewed, who prefers to keep his name quiet. “We were making jokes about the appearance of a black guest who was wearing locks, insinuating that he looked under the influence of drugs. I remember another occasion when a black colleague who had just been promoted was referred to as “another black man who is taking control,” he said. Both employees did not share their experiences with human resources for fear of reprisals. Today, young Zora tells us in tears how her work to value diversity has been received with resistance.
“I know that these newsrooms are not safe for people like us. Many of the racialized journalists who break into the industry bow to whiteness. They don't question power systems. As for me, I did not enter CTV with the intention of complying with whiteness. I feel that despite my best efforts, there was no interest in whether I was doing my job well or not; I was annoying.”
La Converse tried to talk to CTV CEO Lis Travers, who has been in contact with Zora. She did not respond to our requests and forwarded our email to the Communications Director, Emilie Young Lee, who asked for details. When we explained the reason for the requests and explained the alleged facts, it did not respond to our requests sent on June 11. After a follow-up on June 16, we still have not received a response from him.
We also contacted the senior employee who was the subject of some of these allegations to allow him to confirm or deny them. Instead, the latter directed us to CTV communications. In an email statement, CTV's vice president of communications, Scott Henderson, did not want to confirm or deny the allegations made by the company's two former junior journalists. “We don't discuss topics related to our employees, it's institutional policy. However, we take these issues seriously. Bell is committed to building a diverse and collaborative workplace, and we have taken a stand against racism,” says CTV.
The weight of the allies
And the role of allies in all of this? It is crucial, recalls Oussayma Canbarieh. “We must not forget that without allies in positions of power who give us a chance or push us to go further, it would be difficult to make a place for ourselves.”
But this role is not always easy. Dominique Charron also had to leave a post as an editor in 2017 at Espaces Autochtones, to flee a climate that she considered toxic. As an ally and a white woman, she too felt suffocated by the climate that reigned in the Quebec media. The events of the last few months inspired her to speak out. Again, inappropriate comments were always at the limit of social acceptability, between a wink and a laugh, she says. “I remember a colleague who went to report in a Mohawk community. When she returned, a desk operator said to her, “Oh, didn't the Mohawks keep you?” (insinuating a violent nature).
I couldn't believe it,” she remembers.For Dominique Charron, it was inconceivable to work in such a medium without understanding the role of an indigenous media and without trying to develop real relationships with communities. “I perceived the depth of non-empathy. It was a fairly superficial approach,” she notes. On leaving his post, Dominique wrote to human resources, but also wrote a Facebook status to denounce some of these practices. “I know that some of my colleagues who reacted positively to my post have been sanctioned.”
La Converse obtained a copy of an email from the management of Espaces Autochtones to the attention of the superiors of Radio-Canada journalists who liked the publication of Dominique's status. Today she feels that her words are important in order to make progress on the issue of diversity in the media. “It is difficult and delicate, but it is by dint of naming the things that they will change.”
Asked about the testimonies of Dominique and Elena*, the diversity director of Radio-Canada, Luc Simard, indicated by email that he could not comment on these experiences because he was not aware of them. He directed us to the director of communications Marc Pichette, who said he took these allegations seriously and intended to forward them to the departments concerned.
Regarding Nadim Moghrabi's testimony, Radio-Canada did not want to comment on the situation in 2000. “CBC/Radio-Canada is firmly committed to fighting racism in all its forms. Racist behavior or remarks are unacceptable in our workplaces,” added Marc Pichette in his email.
And now?
Any denunciation is only valid for the solution or the change it brings. Elysia Bryan-Baynes, a retired Black journalist from Global Montreal, offers several lines of thought. For her, commentators and columnists should be more diverse in the media. “I think that's where we need to work.
Giving value to the professional opinion of racialized people, putting them forward, is an important step.” She also believes that there is a favorable situation to seize right now. “You need to understand who the allies are and not give up. You have as many rights as everyone else, and people increasingly understand that racism is very often subtle, systemic.”
In this sense, numerous reflections have been initiated to ensure the true inclusion of diversity within traditional media. Last June, a panel organized by the American organization Poynter focused on ways for racialized journalists to raise their voices without losing their jobs. Here are some of them:
- Find one or more allies to denounce a group situation.
- Do not focus on objectivity, but rather on transparency, accurate information, and good faith.
- Do not hesitate to open the discussion and dialogue with people who have a different vision.
- Stand your ground in front of an editor or desk manager, respecting and presenting clear information. If time is running out and the journalist has to let go, come back to the subject later in order to avoid it happening again.
- On a personal level, remember your values and ambitions to stay motivated. Make positive statements.
- Find ways to channel your emotions. This can be in the context of safe spaces or discussions with other racialized journalists.
Obviously, the burden also and above all lies with the editors and institutions in order to undo the mechanisms at the source. This has been recognized, discussed and studied for a long time. Public speaking will certainly contribute to the acceleration of the process.
And you, what is your #metwo?