A Garden That Brings People Together

Fresh Food in a Tough Economy

Across Canada, community gardens have become an important part of local life. In cities, suburbs, small towns, and northern communities, residents are looking for ways to reconnect with food and with one another. The reasons are easy to understand. Grocery bills have risen sharply in recent years, and many families are thinking more carefully about what they buy, waste, and grow. Statistics Canada reported that 18 percent of Canadian families experienced food insecurity in 2022, up from 16 percent the year before. Community gardens cannot solve food insecurity on their own, but they can help people gain access to fresh produce, learn practical skills, and feel less alone in facing everyday challenges.

In my own city, Ottawa, the value of community gardening is easy to see. The City of Ottawa describes community gardens and greening initiatives as shared spaces where people work together to grow food, care for green spaces, and build community connections. The city also notes that these projects support food security, civic participation, neighbourhood revitalization, environmental awareness, climate resilience, and mental and physical well-being. Ottawa now has more than 140 community gardens — a sign of just how much residents value these green gathering places.

What makes a community garden special is that it is not only about what comes out of the soil. Yes, the harvest matters. A basket of lettuce, beans, kale, or carrots can make a real difference at the dinner table. Some gardens also follow “Plant-a-Row” or “Share-a-Row” models, encouraging gardeners to donate extra produce to neighbours, community fridges, shelters, or food banks. But the deeper harvest is often social. Gardens create low-pressure spaces where people who might otherwise pass each other without speaking can meet, swap advice, share seeds, and celebrate small successes.

That neighbourly spirit is especially important in a country as diverse as Canada. Community gardens can become places of cultural exchange, where food traditions are welcomed and preserved. A plot might hold Italian basil, Caribbean callaloo, South Asian coriander, Indigenous medicines, or vegetables familiar to families who have recently arrived from another part of the world. In this way, gardens help people feel rooted in a new neighbourhood while also sharing pieces of their heritage. Canadian researchers have also been exploring how community gardens can support immigrant communities by connecting culturally familiar foods, intergenerational knowledge, mental health, and food security.

The benefits extend well beyond individual households. Community gardens help turn underused land into welcoming public space. A vacant lot, a corner of a schoolyard, a strip beside a community centre, or land near a place of worship can become a living classroom and a neighbourhood meeting spot. Children learn where food comes from by planting peas and watching them climb. Seniors pass along knowledge about composting, saving seeds, and reading the weather. Volunteers learn how to organize workdays, apply for grants, and make collective decisions. These are practical skills, but they are also civic skills.

Small Spaces, Big Environmental Benefits

There is also an environmental story growing in these spaces. Many Canadian gardens now include pollinator plants, rain barrels, compost bins, native species, and small habitat areas for bees, butterflies, and birds. In a changing climate, these details matter. Gardens can help absorb rainwater, reduce heat in paved neighbourhoods, improve soil health, and support local biodiversity. They also remind us that climate action does not always begin with a large project or a technical solution. Sometimes it begins with a group of neighbours deciding to plant milkweed, collect kitchen scraps, or keep a patch of soil healthy for the next season.

Of course, community gardens need support to thrive. Access to land is often the first challenge, especially in growing cities where space is expensive and development pressure is high. Gardeners also need water, tools, storage, soil testing, accessibility features, insurance guidance, and clear rules for shared use. Municipal governments, school boards, non-profit organizations, housing providers, and faith communities all have a role to play. The federal government has also recognized the importance of local food infrastructure, including community gardens, greenhouses, irrigation systems, and food forests, through programs that aim to strengthen community food security across the country.

Still, it is important to be realistic. A garden plot will not replace strong income supports, affordable housing, fair food pricing, or reliable public services. Food insecurity is a complex issue, and it is closely tied to poverty and inequality. But community gardens offer something that larger systems often struggle to provide: a sense of agency. When people plant, tend, harvest, and share food together, they experience a measure of control and dignity. They are not just consumers at the end of a long supply chain. They are growers, teachers, learners, and neighbours.

For many Canadians, the appeal is also beautifully simple. Gardening slows us down. It gives us a reason to step outside, notice the season, and talk to people we might not otherwise meet. It offers the satisfaction of seeing effort turn into something edible. It teaches patience when seeds take longer than expected, generosity when the beans come in all at once, and resilience when pests or weather interfere with the plan.

Cultivating the Future

As communities across Canada look for ways to become healthier, greener, and more connected, community gardens deserve a place near the centre of the conversation. They are modest in scale but rich in impact. They feed people, brighten streets, support biodiversity, and create spaces where neighbours become familiar faces. In a time when many people feel stretched by costs, schedules, and social isolation, a community garden offers a hopeful reminder: when we cultivate the soil together, we also cultivate trust, belonging, and care.

The post Community Gardens: Cultivating Food and Neighbourhood Bonds appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

In 2017, after a period of over one hundred years, four adults and five youth from the Anishinaabe First Nation community of Biigtigong Nishnaabeg embarked on a paddle down the Biigtig Ziibii, or the river they traditionally inhabit. What is remarkable about this particular trip is not only that it happened at all, but what scientific research was conducted during the trip.

Water, Land, and the Architecture of Wellbeing.

Within Western biomedicine, the connection between individuals and their natural surroundings can be considered a backdrop. Within many Indigenous frameworks of medicine, this connection is not a backdrop at all; rather, it forms the basis for the entire system.

The work of Jennifer Redvers, published in the journal International Journal of Indigenous Health, was based on interviews with eleven land-based healing practitioners in Canada’s three northern territories: Yukon, Northwest Territories, and Nunavut. These land-based healers did not present their practices as any form of program or service. Instead, they saw land-based healing as a process that inherently involved a relationship with the land, where the land and the water were not merely a place where healing occurred but were actively engaged with in the process. Cultural identity was not something that one brought to water but was made through it.

This notion is further corroborated by Acharibasam et al. (2024) in their paper published in the EXPLORE journal, where they collaborated with Ministikwan Lake Cree Nation in Saskatchewan to investigate how land-based healing relates to water governance. The conclusions they reached were clear: disconnecting from both land and water within this community was not just an issue of lack of accessibility or geography but a disconnect from the cultural spirituality and ways of knowing upon which healing is built. Engaging again in culturally relevant activities centred on reconnecting with water had significant repercussions for the well-being of the community beyond what any clinical treatment could achieve.

Paddling the Biigtig: A Peer-Reviewed Story of Return.

This event did not only serve as an example of community life, but it was also analyzed by Kayla Mikraszewicz and Chantelle Richmond in their paper in the journal Social Science & Medicine. These authors conducted interviews with the participants and discovered what kind of health effects the Biigtigong Nishnaabeg River Journey had produced.

There were three important themes discussed by the researchers in their analysis. The first one concerns the role that the journey played in the transmission of Indigenous Knowledge. Specifically, Mikraszewicz and Richmond noted that “portages [along the route] had names said out loud in Anishinabemoen; youth heard the history of certain bends in the river for the first time in their lives, and they experienced the reclamation of the story behind each landmark that was being passed during the journey.” The second theme concerned the development of social relations between the Elders and the youth. This process was achieved in ways that could not be reached by any other institution, such as a school, municipality, or even a health care institution. The last theme involves the personal connection with place that was developed among the younger participants of the event.

All of these were discussed within the context of the Anishinaabe tradition of mino bimaadiziwin (living a good and healthy life). As articulated by the authors, this particular journey of the canoe was no reenactment of the past; rather, it was an enactment of philosophy itself.

A related study conducted by Nightingale & Richmond in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health examined another camp experience led by the same Biigtigong Nishnaabeg community in 2019. This time, the camp took place at Mountain Lake – a culturally important site from which the community had been removed for several decades. This particular camp involved the participation of fifteen members of different ages: Elders, youth, and band staff members. As found in the thematic analysis of their story-based interviews, the camp allowed for the development of better relationships among the community members, the practice of Anishinaabe knowledge, and pride in their community. For instance, one of the youth expressed amazement in arriving at the ancestral lands that others did not care much about: “It was really interesting seeing how much we have to ‘fight for’ there.”

The Canoe Journey as a Health Intervention: Pacific Northwest Evidence.

In addition to community-specific research conducted in Canada, this same theme of healing is investigated in other health-based research that takes place further down the Pacific coast. “Healing of the Canoe,” an intervention developed at the Alcohol and Drug Abuse Institute of the University of Washington in collaboration with the two Pacific Northwest tribes of Suquamish and Port Gamble S’Klallam Tribes.

Donovan et al. publish their work on this program in the American Indian and Alaska Native Mental Health Research, which utilizes the annual event of the Tribal Canoe Journey – wherein canoes from different Indigenous Nations from the coasts of Alaska, BC, Washington, and Oregon meet each year – as both a metaphorical and tangible practice for cultural interventions aimed at preventing substance abuse among high school age adolescents.

In addition, the participants in the program expressed increased levels of hope, optimism, and self-efficacy, decreased substance use, and increased levels of cultural identification and understanding of alcohol and drug issues. Significantly, it should be highlighted that the described intervention did not only imply the participation in the tribal canoe ride, but that the participants devoted themselves to preparation for this event for a whole year and lived substance-free lives during this time.

It was stressed by the authors that the actual Tribal Canoe Journey is, first of all, an event that restores the strong maritime identity of the Coast Salish people, whose lives were tightly connected with the canoes – a means of fishing, communication, trade, and spirituality of this culture. The young participants are taught how to navigate in deep waters under challenging conditions; how to resolve any conflicts that might arise during their joint stay.

Traditional Activity and Holistic Wellness: What Systematic Research Finds.

These results are embedded within the larger literature on this topic. Akbar, Zuk, and Tsuji conducted a systematic review in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health on the impacts on health and wellness of traditional physical activities, such as canoeing, on Indigenous youth in Canada, the United States, New Zealand, and Australia. In doing so, Akbar et al. employed an integrated Indigenous ecological theory that structures the results into the dimensions of health and wellness, intrapersonally, interpersonally, organizationally, communally, and policy-wise, utilizing the medicine wheel as an organizing theory.

Indeed, the results of their analysis, which were drawn from nine independent studies, were consistent throughout: traditional physical activities engaged in by Indigenous youth resulted in both physiological and psychosocial benefits, ranging from improvements in physical fitness and physical self-concept to an increase in cultural identity, intergenerational connections, and engagement with community. However, most importantly, it was observed that the participants did not regard the activities as exercise at all, but rather as life, as part of their daily routine and identity.

It is important because it highlights an aspect of the practice of wellness which is often overlooked by standard theories of health promotion; that is, the practice of wellness through traditional processes, such as journeying by canoe, is not achieved because of physical activity alone, but because of all those other things which are done at the same time.

Cultural Continuity as a Determinant of Health: A Canadian Foundation.

Beyond these particular studies lies a more fundamental and established finding within Canadian Indigenous health research. In 1998, two psychologists, Michael Chandler and Christopher Lalonde, wrote a seminal paper on the issue of Indigenous youth suicide rates among nearly 200 First Nations bands located in the province of British Columbia.

Their finding was one of extraordinary variability. Although youth suicide rates among Canada’s Indigenous population were significantly higher than in other parts of the country, the national figure did not do justice to the complexity of the situation, according to Chandler and Lalonde. Instead of reflecting some sort of uniform pattern of youth suicides across different communities in BC, their data showed that some Indigenous communities experienced rates hundreds of times greater than others. Yet these rates were not randomly determined but were systematically related to what Chandler and Lalonde referred to as cultural continuity.

It doesn’t imply that travelling by canoes prevents suicides, as the connection between cultural integrity and psychological well-being is far more complicated and dependent upon individual communities. What the finding proves is that cultural activities and indigenous self-determination, as practiced through the act of canoe travelling, are no longer seen as a marginal aspect of health but rather a significant determinant thereof.

The River Has Always Known the Way.

There is an exact knowledge that can only be passed down from person to person when one is on the water – the name of a particular rapid in the language of the people who have used it for ten thousand years, how to understand a current, the history of those who were lost at a particular portage and those who lived through it and why. When colonial policy cut off the passing of such knowledge for decades, it wasn’t just interfering in a cultural tradition. Rather, as recent peer-reviewed studies have shown, it was disrupting a practice of healing.

Reconnecting with the canoeing tradition in places like Biigtigong Nishnaabeg in Ontario or the Suquamish and Port Gamble S’Klallam peoples of the Pacific Northwest does not constitute cultural reminiscing. It is neither a cultural tour nor a healing program. It is a grassroots effort of restoration that the data suggests leads to significant positive effects on mental health, cultural awareness, family relations, and the health of children and young adults. The river has always been the healer; only recently has the research begun to confirm it.

Key Takeaways.

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Magazica: Dear readers and viewers, Kirsten Woodend has spent her career at the intersection of science, compassion, and community. As Emeritus Professor of Nursing at Trent University, she has guided generations of students while shaping the future of nursing education in Canada. She’s a Fellow of the Canadian Nurse Educators Institute, an end-of-life doula, and a national leader in peer support for amputees. Her journey spans clinical practice, research, and leadership, including serving as dean. Today, she continues to mentor, write, and advocate for better health and human connection. What makes her story remarkable is not just the titles she has held, but the lives she has touched-whether helping internationally educated nurses find their place in Ontario, supporting families through hospice care, or building resilience in communities across Canada. Kirsten, welcome to Magazica.

Kirsten Woodend: Thank you.

Magazica: Let’s start at the very beginning. When I saw your profile, the first thought that came to my mind was: what an enriched career. How did it all start? Looking back, was there a single experience or turning point that made you realize nursing and advocacy would become your life’s work?

Kirsten Woodend: Sadly, no. I actually wanted to be a forensic pathologist, and life’s journey took me into nursing. I don’t think there was a moment when I said, “I’m going to spend my whole life, my whole career, nursing.” I think nursing became me, rather than me choosing nursing. The more I was involved at the bedside, and then in research, and then in teaching, the more in love I fell with my profession. It wasn’t that I sought it-it grew on me, and I became more passionate about it as I did it.

Magazica: It was like nursing happened to you.

Kirsten Woodend: Nursing happened. Exactly.

Magazica: Nursing chose you, not the other way around.

Kirsten Woodend: Exactly.

Magazica: What about the human side? Many people think of nursing only as medical care. What’s a story from your career that shows the deeper human connection behind the profession?

Kirsten Woodend: I don’t think of nursing as a medical career-I think of it as healthcare. Yes, there are technical tasks nurses do, but one of the biggest things we do is walk beside our patients. We’re there, we’re aware of what’s going on. In a hospital, we’re the one continuous presence.

I’m thinking of a story that reminds me of that humanness. I used to work in coronary care at the Heart Institute in Ottawa. One night, a patient was really frightened, and I had a quiet moment to sit with her. She eventually found that praying would help her sleep, so I stayed and created the space and support she needed. I wasn’t starting an IV or doing a task-it was simply being present when someone felt frightened and alone in an intensive care unit.

Magazica: Yes. Sometimes you just need that human presence that soothes you.

Kirsten Woodend: I think it’s harder and harder for nurses these days, particularly in hospital-based nursing. The structure forces them to focus on tasks and finding those human moments is more challenging. It’s very sad because those moments make a huge difference in people’s illness journeys and in their recovery.

Magazica: As you’ve mentioned, what’s happening in nursing today and how the profession is structured, you’ve taught and mentored countless students. What’s one lesson you hope every nurse you’ve guided carries with them into their career, if there is one?

Kirsten Woodend: I would say it’s relational practice-the being in relationship with the patients for whom you’re caring, making those connections so that you’re aware of what that person’s needs are in that moment and over the long term. It’s the ability to make that connection with people and be in relation with them. I think that leads to things like advocacy, but the most important part is the ability to be in relation with your patients, the people for whom you’re providing care.

Magazica: You have also worked with internationally educated nurses. You’ve helped create pathways for nurses who were trained abroad so they can practice in Ontario. Why does this matter, not just for healthcare, but for society as a whole? What is your take on it?

Kirsten Woodend: We are a multicultural society, and I think it matters for two reasons. One is that internationally educated nurses bring a huge resource to healthcare in Canada. They bring previous experiences, cultural understandings, and perspectives to nursing care in Ontario that are very important.

But the other part is that when people who were educated as nurses in other countries come to Canada and are not able to practice, it’s an enormous waste of a resource we badly need. That was the passion that drove the four of us who manage this program. We felt strongly about launching an internationally educated nurse pathway so we wouldn’t waste this wonderful resource. It was-and still is-very difficult, with many hoops to jump through to be registered to practice in Ontario if you were educated elsewhere.

And we still run the program. We have a cohort of students going through as we speak.

Magazica: Fantastic. What a beautiful way to uphold the Canadian spirit. Peer support for amputees-let’s go into that area. As president of the Amputee Coalition of Canada, you’ve seen resilience firsthand. Can you share a story of how peer support, without disclosing any sensitive details, can change someone’s outlook on life? A story, a trend, anything?

Kirsten Woodend: There’s a growing body of evidence that peer support makes a difference. It makes a difference personally, but interestingly, it can also make a difference in a person’s ability to stick with their rehabilitation program and to see a future for themselves. It can help them better access the resources they need to optimize their health.

I did a peer visit last Saturday-I always come away with a huge smile. When you visit someone, and you’ve been a little further down that journey-I am an amputee-you show them that life is possible. I thought it was kind of funny: I’m not young, I’m an above-knee amputee, which is harder to walk on than a below-knee amputee. My husband had misplaced his car keys, so when I finished the peer visit, he called, and I had to walk from that home to downtown in a small town to meet him.

I think even that idea-that someone of the same age as the people I’m visiting, who has an above-knee amputation, has the ability and empowerment to get up and go and continue with a full life-can be powerful. I can walk downtown and meet my husband. Now, I want to be careful, because some people do stay in wheelchairs after amputation, and that’s okay too. They create a life that way as well.

But yes, it was interesting. After 40 years as a nurse, when I lost my leg in a motor vehicle accident, I didn’t know anything about this. That was part of the reason I became passionate. I had this nursing background, and suddenly I was an amputee, and I didn’t have a clue. I didn’t know how to move forward, what prostheses were, what was involved, what I’d be able to do in the future.

I didn’t have a peer visitor. I did have a colleague at the university who was a paraplegic who helped me with wheelchairs, cars and so on. But what a difference it would have made if I’d had someone early on. I wouldn’t have spent so much time wondering, “Is there any life for me?” I had no models to look at. And that was after being a nurse for 40 years. I was shocked at how clueless I was.

Magazica: And now you are becoming a model for others.

Kirsten Woodend: I hope so. Maybe not even a model, perhaps a companion, and an example of what’s possible despite amputation.

Magazica: Such an inspiring take on life. Thank you for doing that for us and for thousands of your students and colleagues. That is one part of dealing with the vulnerabilities of life. Vulnerability can show up in any form, at any moment. Now let’s go to another side of vulnerability that you’ve seen firsthand-hospice.

We often think, “If I’m doing something, there must be a result.” But these nurses and doctors work with people they know are in terminal illness. Day in and day out, they face this fact, yet they’re still careful about how the needle goes in, whether the person has eaten, whether they’ve taken their morning medication. I always wondered how they do that. So, hospice and end-of-life care, as an end-of-life doula, you walk with people through the final chapter of the book. What have you learned about living well from those moments, and from those moments of saying goodbye in daily practice? What can you say about that?

Kirsten Woodend: I think there can be life at the end of life. Unfortunately, in our society, we do everything possible to deny that there are two ends. We celebrate the birth end, and we try to ignore the other end. But that is part of a full life. I think hospices and end-of-life doulas are beginning to help people have a life at the end of life. Life should be full from beginning to end. We shouldn’t just turn off the TV because we know the end is coming.

It’s interesting, because I volunteer in hospice on Friday afternoons and evenings. One of the families said, “Thank you for being a volunteer in such a difficult role,” and I said, “This is such a lovely end to my week.” My week is always busy with the Amputee Coalition, and I teach, and I work full-time even though I’m retired. So, I get to do this lovely thing of going to the hospice. Our hospice is small and quiet, with lots of space for families to be with their loved ones. She was shocked that I thought this was a lovely way to end the week, and I think that’s part of our denial-that this is part of life.

It’s such a pleasure to be in a space where we are supporting people all the way through to the very last breath.

Magazica: Yes. I’ve seen people… I’ve seen one of my relatives, he was on his deathbed in the UK. I visited him, and he had such a smiling face. He wasn’t in hospice, but he was a stage-four cancer survivor, and eventually cancer caught up with his lungs. Everyone knew he was going to die, but he was smiling. I knew he was in acute pain. I don’t know whether he was a spiritual person or not-he was a distant cousin of my father.

I was very young. I didn’t know how to talk in such a sensitive moment. Nobody prepares you for that. We don’t talk about death in normal family conversations. I asked him, “Why are you happy?” And he said, “This is the moment I have prepared my whole life for. I celebrated my life, and I prepared for my death.” Like meeting a friend, I always wanted to meet, but at the end.

Kirsten Woodend: I think that’s why we’re seeing this resurgence of end-of-life doulas, which are a very old-fashioned sort of thing. It’s an attempt to bring death back into our lives. We’ve turned our backs on it so much, and that has a very negative impact on people who are reaching the end of their lives. Instead of being embraced and seen and treated in ways that support their final days, we turn away.

Magazica: If we have to exit life, let us do it in a great and graceful way.

Kirsten Woodend: Exactly. And it’s odd, because I started my career as an intensive care nurse, where you’re doing everything to keep people alive. Over my life, I developed the maturity so that when I retired, I was very interested in training to become an end-of-life doula and spending part of my volunteer time doing that. It’s not much different from peer support. You’re walking beside people, creating safe spaces to be with them and support them. Much of what I learn and do as an end-of-life doula, I practice in peer support, and vice versa.

Magazica: What a beautiful way to end your week.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes, exactly.

Magazica: What practical mindset or habit helps people move forward when life feels overwhelming? You are a very strong person, expressing strength in a very soft way. What helps people move forward?

Kirsten Woodend: Trying to be in the day, in the moment. When you’re recovering, you don’t have to solve tomorrow or next week. Yes, planning is good, but being in the moment, not looking backward, not looking forward, just coping in that moment.

When I’m doing peer visiting, I meet people who get lost in the past- “If this hadn’t happened…”-and it doesn’t help. It uses energy that doesn’t change anything. So, when I do peer visits, I try very much to be in that moment. I answer questions, of course, but I stay present. I think that’s the best way to move forward. You don’t know what’s coming.

For me, I don’t look backward a lot. I’m human, I have moments, but for the most part, I try to be in the moment and then move forward.

Magazica: Very important-be in the moment and keep your energy intact so it can carry you through.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes. We get lost in our angst. We worry about the past, which we can’t change, and then worry about things coming up that we can’t do anything about. You can probably tell I read a lot of Buddhist philosophy.

Magazica: Oh, that’s why this conversation feels very meditative to me. Very meditative. And your work is deeply emotional. You teach people who will be dealing with others’ vulnerabilities, and you treat people who are already vulnerable. How have you learned to protect your own well-being while supporting others?

Kirsten Woodend: I tend to be strong on the self-care side. No matter how busy I am, I still take time to read. I cuddle my dogs and my horses, and family is important to me. I exercise every day. I very much believe that being physical helps with the emotional side.

I don’t need to shut down anything I’m doing or shut it out, but I am careful about taking time to be good to my mind and my body every day. So, every day I do a workout, and every day I take time to read a book, or cuddle our two little dogs, or get out and-what I call- “sniff the horses,” giving them a big hug. All those little things help, without shutting everything else down. I’m not blocking anything out; I’m accepting that I, too, need care.

Magazica: Yes. Being mentally and physically fit is something nobody can see from the outside, but it’s a core tenet of Buddhist philosophy.

Magazica: Strengthen your mind and body. We have to remember that they established the Shaolin temples, one of the fiercest physical-fitness feats human civilization ever saw. And Buddha himself was a very fit person. Physically fit. Even the day before he died, he walked more than ten miles.

Kirsten Woodend: I joke that in some ways, I was set up for my accident. About a week and a half before, I had been at a four-day silent retreat at a local Buddhist temple. Then I had a motorcycle accident-you can imagine it wasn’t just my leg; I broke a whole bunch of things. I was really doing it well. But I had just come from that retreat, so I said I had set myself up to be mindful as I was recovering. I got a little pre-practice in.

Magazica: And it reflects in you. From the very beginning, this conversation has been meditative for me. I practice meditation myself, in a different way, but still centred around Buddhism.

What is the power of community? From classrooms to coalitions, you have built communities of care. What makes a community truly healing, and how can everyday people create that community of care in their own lives?

Kirsten Woodend: It’s so important. I don’t think of myself as someone who needs a group, and yet I very much embrace and enjoy being part of the amputee community. That surprises me, because I wouldn’t have thought I needed community like that.

For instance, we have peer-visitor drop-ins every quarter. There are many amputee support Facebook sites. I sit on the board of the Amputee Coalition, so we meet and work together. I often have meetings with working groups on things we’re trying to move forward. It surprises me how important it is to me to be part of that community with other amputees.

I know many amputees seek that. It’s a place where, in some ways, you feel normal, because everyone else has had a similar experience. We’re all different-we arrived here in different ways-but we share one common thing: we’ve lost one or more limbs, and some of the challenges are similar.

I’ve been part of different online communities, and some I’m no longer part of. It’s the kindness factor-the thing we’re a bit more challenged with these days. Being kind and humane. I’ve gravitated to communities that put that first: being respectful and kind to each other. I experience the same thing in hospice. The staff at the hospice where I volunteer are amazing people. I’m in community with people who are kind and who give of themselves.

It really surprises me how much I’ve enjoyed being part of the amputee community in the way that I have.

Magazica: As you say, the kindness you have inside you and the respectfulness you show-these are the greatest magnets. People gather around you. Without realizing it, you become a lighthouse.

Kirsten Woodend: I think we all do, and we all can. If we’re in the middle of a dark time right now, each of us can light a little candle and keep it going. I keep my fingers crossed that in the long run, we’ll prevail.

Magazica: Yes, we’ll prevail. And looking at the feats you’ve accomplished and the endeavours you’re still in, you’ve done phenomenal work. Even if I could do a portion of it, I’d consider myself lucky. I really hate the word “retirement,” because for me, retirement is when I’m dust again. Whenever I’m dust again, that’s my retirement.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes.

Magazica: It’s a wrong word for me. But still, you are Professor Emeritus, and you’re still teaching. You’re still writing, researching, and mentoring. What excites you? What excites you about the next plan, the next mission, the next task? What keeps you going? What drives you?

Kirsten Woodend: Oddly, and maybe not kindly, it’s curiosity. The desire to keep learning. I joke that when I do the peer-visitor training for the Amputee Coalition, we sit together for eight hours learning how to be peer visitors. Despite having done it many times, I always come away learning new things.

When I’m working with a graduate student, I’m always learning new things. That very much drives me. It may not sound like kindness or well-being, but curiosity is what keeps me engaged. Yes, I want to make a difference, and yes, I hope we’ll all make the world a better place. But it’s the ability to constantly learn new things. By the time I get to the end of my life, I’ll barely have touched what there is to know.

Magazica: Curiosity means you are alive inside.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes.

Magazica: People die inside first, then it manifests in the physical body. That’s what I’ve understood from life so far.

Kirsten Woodend: We have the Trent Centre for Aging and Society. I sit on its executive committee, and they put out a magazine. They interviewed a man-I think he was about 100-and one of the things he said about getting older was, “Never retire.” I don’t think he meant to retire from your job; he meant never to retire from being engaged in all kinds of things. I thought that was a great piece of advice. And I tease my friends who are still employed that I have fewer holidays than they do.

Magazica: That’s why you’re so alive, and that’s why you touch so many people’s lives in such a proactive way. I’ve seen my seniors around me-at a young age, you’re active, but as you gain experience, you become proactive.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes, I think so.

Magazica: Because your intelligence becomes more crystallized. Experience filters it into a deeper understanding and deeper knowledge. So now you’re proactive-you’re active or busy. You’re contributing to people, contributing to society. And that’s why you said, I think, “never retire.”

One last message to the audience. You’ve shared so many gems, and we’ve learned so much from you. There’s no end to it, because you’ve had such a long career and touched so many lives. If you could leave our listeners and readers with one piece of wisdom-something they could carry into their own lives starting today-what would that be?

Kirsten Woodend: I think it is: be good to yourself in ways that allow you to engage with the rest of the world and be good to others as well. I do think it starts there. And I’m sorry-Buddha said that too. You need to take care of yourself, and then you are able to take care of others.

Magazica: So true. Such a simple line, but yes. In this age of social media, in this age of economic uncertainty, the first thing we ignore is ourselves.

Kirsten Woodend: Yes, and if you yourself are rich, then you don’t need to engage in all of that uncertainty and negativity around us. You need to step away for a moment and be good to yourself. Then you can cope with all of that-and help other people cope with all of that.

Magazica: Thank you. Thank you very much for being with us today and giving us such a meditative conversation. I’m repeating the term, but it’s the only good term I know. This is one of the most meditative conversations I have ever had. I’ve interviewed a lot of people in my life-this is one of the most meditative conversations I’ve ever had.

Thank you for being with us.

Kirsten Woodend: Thank you.

The post Living Fully, Caring Deeply: Kirsten Woodend on Nursing, Loss, Resilience, and the Power of Human Connection appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

What makes this crisis particularly painful is that it is not invisible. Young people know they are struggling. Many of their peers know it too. What stands in the way, time and again, is stigma — the fear of judgment, the worry about being seen as weak, the silence that costs lives.

Suicide remains one of the leading causes of death for young people in Canada. Breaking that silence is not just a cultural aspiration. It is a matter of life and death.

The good news is that Canada is fighting back — and it is doing so with some of the most innovative, youth-led, and community-rooted approaches in the world.

The Scale of the Challenge.

Almost two-thirds of all mental health disorders first emerge before the age of 25, and nearly half appear before the age of 18. In 2022, one in four young Canadians had been diagnosed with a mental illness — a figure that has climbed steadily in the years since the pandemic reshaped the social fabric of young people’s lives (Health Canada, 2024).

Young people today are navigating a convergence of pressures unlike any previous generation: the lingering psychological aftermath of COVID-19, an affordability crisis that strips away their sense of security, a relentlessly online social world, and a climate anxiety that feels existential. And yet, despite this, many still hesitate to ask for help. Before completing peer mental health training, only 57 percent of young people felt comfortable

Youth Leading the Way: Jack.org.

One of Canada’s most powerful responses to youth mental health stigma has come not from government or clinical systems — but from young people themselves. Jack.org, founded in 2010 and now Canada’s largest network of young people supporting young people, has built a nationwide movement grounded in a deceptively simple idea: that peer-to-peer connection and lived experience are among the most powerful tools we have to break stigma and save lives.

In 2024 alone, more than 31,000 people across Canada engaged in mental health literacy education through Jack.org, while trained youth shared their personal stories 286 times through Jack Talks — conversations that use the power of lived experience to spark open dialogue about mental health. That same year, over 19,000 Canadians completed the Be There Certificate — a free online course teaching peer support skills — and six months later, 72 percent of participants had used those skills to support someone who was struggling.

In 2024, 2,220 youth led mental health promotion initiatives in their own communities through Jack Chapters — grassroots groups of young people running events, workshops, and awareness campaigns tailored to the needs of their own schools and neighbourhoods. This is not top-down programming. It is young people, trained and supported, showing up for each other.

The results speak for themselves. When someone who has lived through depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation stands up in a gymnasium or a lecture hall and says “this happened to me and I got help” — something shifts. Stigma has a harder time surviving in the presence of honesty.

A National Investment: The Youth Mental Health Fund.

Alongside grassroots efforts, Canada has made an unprecedented financial commitment to transforming how youth mental health services are delivered at the community level. Budget 2024 announced $500 million in funding over five years to establish the Youth Mental Health Fund — the single largest investment in youth mental health in Canadian history.

A central pillar of the Fund is the expansion of the Integrated Youth Services (IYS) model — a “one-stop-shop” approach that brings mental health counselling, primary care, addiction services, sexual health resources, housing support, and education and employment help together under one roof. IYS hubs serve youth typically aged 12 to 25, offering services in-person or virtually, by drop-in or appointment, free of charge and without requiring a referral from a healthcare provider.

The first six projects to receive funding were announced in February 2025, representing a total investment of more than $46 million. Among them, British Columbia’s Foundry network — a flagship IYS model — will expand its hubs to reach more youth who currently lack access, particularly equity-deserving populations including Black, Indigenous, and 2SLGBTQ+ youth. Similar expansions are underway in Manitoba, Ontario, Newfoundland and Labrador, and Alberta, where the Kickstand network is growing its centres to provide free, walk-in mental health care with no waitlists.

This model matters because it meets young people where they are — not in a clinical office they have to be referred to, not behind a months-long waitlist, but in their communities, on their terms.

Research Driving Better Care: The IYS Learning Network.

Breaking stigma also requires knowing what works — and being willing to change when it doesn’t. In September 2025, the Government of Canada announced more than $30 million over four years through the Canadian Institutes of Health Research to strengthen and expand the Integrated Youth Services Network of Networks — a pan-Canadian “Learning Health System” where data, research, and real-world experience are continuously used to improve care and policies for youth.

Critically, this research is being led with Indigenous communities — not imposed upon them. In the Yukon, youth, Elders, and communities will co-lead research to map current service gaps and develop new ways of sharing information between providers, ensuring young people no longer have to “tell their story over and over” to get help. First Nations, Inuit, and Métis youth are leading co-design efforts to develop culturally grounded services rooted in Indigenous knowledge — recognizing that stigma looks different across cultures, and that healing must be rooted in identity and community.

What Breaking Stigma Actually Looks Like.

In practical terms, breaking stigma for young Canadians means normalizing help-seeking the same way we normalize going to a doctor for a broken arm. It means training peers, not just professionals, to recognize and respond to distress. It means designing services around young people’s actual lives — not around the convenience of systems.

It means a teenager in rural Newfoundland being able to access virtual mental health support without a referral or a credit card. It means a Jack Talks speaker standing at the front of a high school classroom in Saskatoon sharing their experience with anxiety — and another student in the back row quietly realizing for the first time that they are not alone.

Young people today are grappling with the repercussions of a global pandemic, navigating an increasingly online world, and contending with an affordability crisis that denies them the assurance of security. They deserve systems — and communities — that meet the scale of what they are facing.

Canada is not there yet. But the direction is right, the investment is real, and the young people leading this movement have made one thing unmistakably clear: they are not waiting for permission to talk about mental health. They are already having the conversation.

It’s time the rest of us caught up.

If you or a young person you know needs support, contact Kids Help Phone: call or text 1-800-668-6868, or text HELLO to 686868. Crisis Services Canada: 1-833-456-4566 (24/7).

The post Breaking the Stigma: Community Initiatives for Youth Mental Health in Canada appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

Magazica: Dear readers and viewers, today we have Amy de Nobriga here with us. She has spent the last two decades helping individuals across age groups – children, young adults, and families – navigate some of life’s toughest challenges. She is an experienced social worker specializing in maternal, child health, mental health, and crisis intervention.

She has worked with leading institutions such as Humber River Hospital, Mount Sinai Hospital, and SickKids, among others. Beyond direct support, Amy de Nobriga is deeply committed to advocacy and systemic change, ensuring families receive the resources they need. Her work is a testament to resilience, compassion, and empowerment. Today, she’s here to share the lessons she has learned along the way.  Amy de Nobriga, welcome to Magazica. It’s a pleasure to have you.

Amy de Nobriga: Thank you for that lovely introduction. Thank you so much.

Magazica: So first, let’s start with the note of passion. What drew you to this field? Was there a defining moment or specific experience that shaped your career in maternal and child health?

Amy de Nobriga: Yes. Well, I feel like since I was really little, my parents have always instilled the importance of supporting and helping people along the way. I think I’ve always gravitated toward that work. When I first started out as a baby social worker, I was working in a youth shelter, a family shelter, and in domestic violence settings. I then started working in child welfare, did some family mediation work, and worked at a legal clinic. A lot of my work centred around children and families.

That eventually led to working at Mount Sinai in the NICU, at Humber River in the maternal-child program, and at SickKids in their mental health unit. I think my career just naturally evolved in that direction. I’ve always been interested in working with families because there are so many dynamics and so many people involved – parents, children and extended family. A lot of what shapes us begins at home and in childhood. If we can have an impact from the very beginning, it can make such a difference in people’s lives going forward.

I also had a defining moment years ago when I worked in child welfare, doing supervised access visits. Years later, I was at a graduation, and a young man came up to me. He said, “Amy I was a real jerk to you growing up, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” I told him there was no reason to be sorry – he had been struggling through a lot. He shared that he now had a baby and was doing really well.

That was lovely to see.

Magazica: That’s so inspiring. Impact begins at home is a powerful statement. The inspiration you received from your own family clearly guided you toward the supportive role you’ve embraced in your career.

Most people don’t fully grasp the role of social workers in hospitals. You mentioned Mount Sinai Hospital, among others. What does your work involve, and why is it so crucial?

Amy de Nobriga: That’s such a good question. Usually, if I’m going to the hospital in the morning and taking an Uber, the driver will ask if I work at the hospital. The next question is almost always, “Are you a nurse?” I say, “No, I’m a social worker,” and that usually leads to, “Oh, what does a social worker do?”

Social workers in hospitals work across many different units, but our main goal is to complete a psychosocial assessment. Essentially, we look at the story of the person, who they are outside of their medical diagnosis or whatever they’re going through at the hospital.

We provide context to the medical team about who this person is and what they need while they’re in the hospital, as well as after discharge. We look at the supports they already have – family, friends, community – and identify what additional resources they may need through organizations or agencies.

We also help ensure that when they go home, they have what they need to avoid unnecessary re-admissions. There’s a lot of advocacy work, emotional support, and coordination involved, especially in traumatic situations.

Ultimately, people are more than their medical challenges. Our role is to look at them from a holistic point of view.

Magazica: That’s wonderful. Now our readers and viewers will understand the role of a social worker. But still, you have worked with families facing trauma and hardship. What does crisis intervention look like in practice? When a person or a family is going through a traumatic experience, and you are working with them, how does the intervention look, and how do you specifically help people move forward?

 Amy de Nobriga: I hear that. I think with a crisis, depending on what is going on, the first sense is providing stability and grounding. For example, unfortunately, I have had to work a lot with the death of children and help people experiencing that.

In that moment, there is nothing you can say when someone is losing a child. They have not even been able to process it after leaving the hospital. When it is happening right there, the main thing is making sure they know somebody is there and really holding space for them – allowing what they need to do, whether that is crying in despair or feeling anger, however grief shows up for them. It is a very common and human experience to feel the way they are feeling.

Providing stability and guidance to move forward is essential, especially from a logistical point of view. Depending on where people are in their stages of grief, the next steps are often logistical. Many people have never planned a funeral before. They do not know the process or how to go about it. So, part of the work is helping navigate the steps they must take so they do not feel alone.

There is also the emotional support – being there with them, helping them process, and making sure they are not alone. There are really great groups for people who have lost children or loved ones, such as Bereaved Families of Ontario or the PAIL Network through Sunnybrook Hospital, where they can connect so they are not alone. In time, they can move forward and do something meaningful to honour their child if they choose to.

That is what crisis work really is – listening, providing space, making people feel heard and understood, and showing that there is a path forward. It should not feel hopeless. We are here to work with them in whatever way they need.

Magazica: I really liked the two words you said at the beginning of this part of the conversation: stability and grounding. You are completely on thin ice whenever you are in crisis. The ground beneath your feet feels very shaky. So, when you talk about stability and grounding, I think these are the two things most needed when a person or a family goes through trauma. This is so true. I never realized it in this way. Thank you for that.

Thank you very much for that. But still, many people and many communities, as I know, still struggle with stigma. There is a certain kind of stigma around mental health. What are some misconceptions you have encountered along the way? And when you find that a person or family has stigma around mental health, how do you shift the conversation into a proactive direction?

Amy de Nobriga: Unfortunately, although we have made strides in mental health – there is the Bell Let’s Talk campaign and many other initiatives – there is still the idea that struggles with mental health are due to a weakness, that something is wrong with you. We have really personalized it.

People struggling with mental health often feel shame. For example, when we think about postpartum anxiety for women, it is important to realize that it is very normal to be anxious. There is nothing wrong with being anxious. What matters is how long we stay in that state and how long it impacts our ability to function. Is it affecting your ability to function as a mom? Is it impacting your ability to sleep or eat?

So we think about how to manage that anxiety. It is okay to feel anxious, or angry, or sad, or overwhelmed. But how do we manage and contain it so it does not overpower every aspect of our lives? That is the main shift.

We also have to look at what is going on in our society – the political climate, economic pressures. If people are feeling depressed, it might be because we live in a capitalistic society where people’s identities are tied to what they do. When you lose your job, you might lose a sense of identity. If we are going through a recession, that affects people deeply.

It is not just the individual. It is what is going on around them. We live in systems. People are impacted by job loss, racism, and many other factors. We do not live in a vacuum. We are social beings affected by what is happening around us.

Magazica: Fascinating the way you put it, because the last part of the conversation about anxiety – I’m personally a college teacher, so I deal with a lot of Gen Zs and the Gen Alphas coming in. They’re anxious. And whenever they’re anxious, for example, just before an exam or before any case study or group assignment, they’re anxious. And whenever they feel anxious, they stop working. So I first say to them, whatever you said fantastically so far – I get the essence of your answer – is that first accept it.

Accept that you are anxious, and there is nothing wrong with it. That is not devaluing you. It is not making you smaller. It is not making you appear negatively in the eyes of others. You are anxious. Anybody can be anxious. Anybody can be angry. Anybody can be frustrated or depressed. So I first say that if you want to overcome the exam, just accept your anxiety and then work with it.

And lastly, what I said about – there’s a big term in philosophy I was reading the other day. It is called status anxiety. We live in a very hyper-consumeristic society. So even if for nothing else, just being in a tough time can create some anxiety. And the way you put it – first accept it, acknowledge it, that it is there, so I have to work with this – fantastic. Thank you for that.

And let’s go to some family challenges. From domestic violence to addiction, families often face overwhelming situations. What advice would you give to someone supporting a loved one in that crisis or in such a crisis?

Amy de Nobriga: I think if you’re witnessing someone going something, there’s always this idea of, “I have to help, but I feel overwhelmed. “What should I do? I don’t know what to do.”

The most powerful thing you can offer someone is simply your presence. Showing up, being there, and truly listening — sometimes that’s enough.”

Sometimes, we might not be able to solve the problem. And I bring it back to when someone has passed away – there’s no way that person can come back. But really just showing up and being there for that person. You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to come up with beautiful language or flowery language. It’s really just, “I’m sitting with you. I’m here for you. I’m here, and together.”

And if people are feeling overwhelmed, it’s like, “I might not know what to do, but I can support you, and we can figure out together how we can move forward.” If you’re feeling really low and not moving forward, maybe your support parent can connect you with a therapist, a support group, or someone with the skill set you need. If you’re struggling with finances, having someone to sit down with you and help you so you feel less anxious and more in control, and able to make the changes you need. So I think the first thing is sitting with them and letting them know you’re going to be there through this process, and that there is a light.

Magazica: One of the doctors we were talking to in another interview – he’s not a specialist like you in social work; he was a cardiologist – but he said something that reminds me of what you’re saying. He said sometimes people are not looking for solutions. Sometimes people are looking for a person who will listen to them. In that context, is it true? Have you found it true? And in that context, how important is it, as a common person, even in our day-to-day family life or professional life, how important it is to develop the skill of listening?

Amy de Nobriga: Oh, I think it’s so important to listen. The act of listening makes people feel they’re not alone, that there is someone here willing to listen to them. And going back to your thinking, some people don’t want solutions. There is also a theory in therapy and counselling that if you allow people to talk long enough, they solve their own problems.

Magazica: I didn’t know that. That’s fascinating.

Amy de Nobriga: Yes. Sometimes, once people really hear what they’re saying… Actually, funny enough, I was talking with a client – I’m working with at the walking therapist and she asked me, “What should I do?” Then she started talking about it, and I pointed out, “I know you’re asking me, but it seems to me that you solved your problem. Did you hear yourself? You solved your own question. You solved your own problem.” And they’re like, “Oh, ya. That’s that is what I did.” I said that really came from you; it didn’t come from me.

If we allow people to talk and we just listen, and if someone is talking and talking and it feels overwhelming, being the person who can help organize their thoughts and help them see it from a different perspective/or way to connect ideas can really allow them to make the change they’re wanting to make.

Magazica: And just in between, very quickly – I’ll tangent a bit. In your profile on Psychology Today, I have seen your experience in CBT and DBT. So CBT I understand – Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, which focuses on thoughts and how they influence emotions and behaviours.

What is DBT?

Amy de Nobriga: Oh, Dialectical Behavioural Therapy focuses more on emotional regulation, acceptance, as well as skills development, such as radical acceptance.

Magazica: What’s the difference between the two, for our common readers?

Amy de Nobriga: CBT focuses on identifying and changing unhelpful thoughts and behaviours to improve emotions and functioning. DBT build on CBT but emphasizes emotional regulation, distress tolerance, and mindfulness. 

Magazica: That’s a big thing.

Amy de Nobriga: Yeah. So, there’s more of that. CBT is more the idea that everything is connected – your thoughts, your feelings, your body. It’s all connected. If you change your thought about something – even if, say, you have a thought like, “You know what, I’m so unhealthy, I’m so overweight,” –

Magazica: Self-talk.

Amy de Nobriga: Yes, all our negative self-talk. But if you change your actions, maybe you start going to the gym, or you start walking, or you start doing something – that’s going to connect and start to change your thoughts and your way of thinking.

Magazica: So, you’re thinking in dialectic.

Amy de Nobriga: Yes. So that’s how I get it. But they’re similar in some ways.

Magazica: So that is for the common readers. You fight for better policies as an advocate of better mental health for all. You fight for better policies and support systems. Can you share a moment where your advocacy led to a meaningful change – even in a very tiny medium, whatever it may be?

Amy de Nobriga: I’ve had the opportunity to work at Osgoode Hall Law School in the community legal clinic. Doing community development at the clinic – helping law students sit in committees in the community, and also social work students in their clinical practice and community practice as well. I’ve had the opportunity to do deputations at City Hall, talking about Toronto Community Housing needs.

But also, going back to the hospital, we’re looking at a policy change for the five-day, five-night program. For people who don’t know, it’s when you go to the hospital – many hospitals in Ontario have this program – and it’s based on research that if someone is at risk for postpartum depression or anxiety, sleep is really helpful in preventing the development of postpartum mood disorders. Sleep is really important.

The idea is that the mom is getting the sleep she needs to care for her baby. Usually, if you have a delivery, you’re there for 24 hours; if you have a C-section, 48 hours. This program gives you extra time to focus on sleep. The baby is with you during the day and usually goes to the NICU or your support system at night so the mom can sleep.

Right now, we’re developing and pushing for a policy change because sometimes when the baby goes to the NICU for medical needs the mom is sent home. The idea is, “She can go home and get the sleep she needs.” But we’re pushing back, because that may be not the case for some people – maybe their home is calming and good for recovery – but not for everyone.

There’s this idea that if the baby is in the NICU, the mom will be fine and no longer needs the program. But even if the baby is in the NICU, the focus should be on the mom. Some people go home to three or four other children. They’re not going to get that supported time to sleep and take care of themselves. Or there might be things going on at home – maybe their partner is kind and caring, but maybe they’re experiencing domestic violence. We don’t know.

The push for this policy is to focus not just on the care of the baby, but on the mental health of the mom. It’s not only the sleep she gets at the hospital – she gets the support of the nursing team, someone to talk to, the support of a psychiatrist if she needs it, the support of a social worker, the support of a lactation consultant for a longer period of time if she’s struggling with breastfeeding or choosing formula feeding. There’s so much support.

My push for that policy is really about separating the care for mom and baby. We have to think that everyone – going back to that psychosocial assessment – has a different experience. It needs to be individualized. We need to think from a bigger perspective than just the idea that the baby goes to the NICU or is taken care of by someone else and that solves the problem. We need to look at the big picture.

Magazica: Yeah. And regarding the babies – that’s… whenever you were explaining this, it sounds so logical. I never thought of it this way. Obviously, you are the expert in that field, but I never thought of it this way as a layman as well – that mom and baby’s care should be separated proactively so that moms and babies get individually better care. Fantastic.

One of your research areas or focus areas of study is the effect of art programs on children’s self-esteem. So, how does – I’m going a bit off on a tangent from our previously talking points. – How does the freedom of creativity help build stronger self-esteem, according to you? What is your take on that?

Amy de Nobriga: Yes. I remember doing that back in university days.

Magazica: Our content team is really, really fascinated by the fact.

Amy de Nobriga: Oh, really. When I did that, actually with my friend Diana, who is now a clinical psychologist, we did that study together. We worked with the Big Brother, Big Sister program. We did visual art, dancing, acting – different kinds of art programs. We were looking at whether there was a difference. Is it better to put your child in music lessons compared to theatre? What is the link to self-esteem?

But when we looked at the study, it really didn’t matter what specific type of art they were doing. It was the idea that arts programs give people a way to express themselves.

To be able to – whether that’s through art, through movement or dance – it gives a way for self-expression. And when you see people dance, it’s like, “Wow, that’s amazing.” So its really kind of intrinsic… if it comes from you, that you created something – “Wow, I was able to master this skill. I was able to do this.” – It builds your self-esteem. Even if you had no training before in dancing or acting, you can say, “Wow, now I have gained this skill, and I’m able to do this.” That’s how we looked at building your self-esteem.

It really is about giving yourself this sense of agency, making you feel good and not judged, and being able to express yourself physically or creatively – just being able to get that stuff out. And especially, again, I know we have to focus on ourselves and intrinsically feel happy about ourselves, but it is so lovely when we get positive feedback from people around us. “Wow, look at this art piece you did. Look at how you’re doing that.” That also really builds the confidence of children – and people of all ages.

Magazica: Yeah, agency is a big part of being creative – that “I have control over the process,” or “I can do it.” That’s a big thing. So many people are entering into this field of social work and helping others who are facing tough times, students and professionals both. From your two decades of experience, what’s the most important lesson you’d pass on to those who are just starting in this field?

Amy de Nobriga: I really like to think it’s about being humble, being curious. You don’t have to come from a place where you have all the answers. Sometimes it’s about asking the right questions. And really, as we were talking about before, the idea that if you listen to people long enough, they solve their own problems.”

I think being curious, being supportive, and understanding other people’s perspectives that might differ from yours is essential. You might have an idea of how the specific problem they’re facing might be solved, but that doesn’t mean that’s the way it will be. Working together with the person in front of you to figure out the best solution you can both develop together – that’s the thing.

And honestly, when you work together, there’s less onus on you to be perfect or the best social worker ever. It’s also about detaching and knowing that people have their own agency. That’s healthy, especially for burnout and your own mental wellness. It’s not about you. It takes your ego out of it. It’s about helping that person. And when you go home, you know you did everything you could with the resources you had to support that person.

It’s not your job to “fix” people. You might provide a different perspective or link them to resources they didn’t know about to help them see things in a different way – which is great. And when people say, “Thank you, you were so helpful to me during that time,” that’s wonderful. But again, don’t personalize it. This was about them. They did the work. You just provided, from your learning and experience, a different way that helped them along their journey.

Magazica: Awesome, awesome. Be humble, be curious, ask the right questions, and most importantly, put the ego outside of the equation so you can facilitate them in the right direction. Fantastic – absolutely spot on. I think people who are just entering the field to become future professionals will benefit hugely, because you’ve summed up so many things in a very short way.

Your work is deeply emotionally demanding. Sometimes you have to listen to people who are in trauma. It is very emotionally demanding. How do you protect – how do you nurture – your own mental well-being while supporting others? What’s the mechanism?

Amy de Nobriga: I think it’s really for you to know yourself very, very well – to be self-reflective and to really know what you need to do to take care of yourself and not taking on people’s burdens as your own. It’s not about being far away or detached so you don’t feel anything – we’re providing empathy – but knowing that what this person is facing is not your problem. We’re all human, and we can only provide as much as we can.

Some things touch us – we’re all human – especially if we’ve dealt with really trying situations, especially death or awful, horrific things that have happened to people. For me, it’s reaching out to the relationships I have with people – connecting with friends, talking things out, walking (as I’m a walking therapist), exercising, doing yoga. Moving my body feels good. Eating the right foods that nourish me – and sometimes some sweets as well.

And also going out and doing things I enjoy, like dancing. That helps me stay grounded. But really, from my experience as a social worker, it puts my life into perspective. We’ve all been through traumatic events in our lives – myself included – but in essence, it gets me into a state of gratefulness. Really grateful.

Sometimes the little things – we can let them go more easily, because we can see there are so many other things that could be worse. Not invalidating your experience, but keeping it in perspective. It helps you productively reframe your thoughts and feelings.

Magazica: Your last point touched me – that whenever you listen to people going through trauma and difficulties and trying situations, you feel empathetic to them, but side by side, it also makes you very grateful. That “at least I’m not living that experience. I’m being empathetic. I’m helping the person, trying to guide the person by being humble and putting all the efforts that I have learned.” But that also reframes my reality as well. And this becomes something that makes you more and more grateful. I hope that is also a powerful thing.

Amy de Nobriga: Yeah, for sure. I think it makes you grateful – especially if you’ve worked with someone who has gone through a similar trauma to you, and they’re in the thick of things. And again, it is about that person. Just because you went through something similar, maybe you would have a different experience of it, and it still would be different. But to know that, yeah, people are not alone. But it also gives you a sense of, “I was there before, but now, because of the past experiences I’ve had, I’m in a different place now.”

That person you were before – you were there – but through growth and the things you’ve done to help yourself, with your knowledge and the way you’ve worked on yourself, you come out the other side. So even if you’ve gone through a similar experience, it can give you clarity for yourself.

Magazica: More learning, more clarity. True. If you could leave our listeners, viewers and readers with one powerful insight – something that could inspire them – what would that be?

Amy de Nobriga: I really think that for anything you’re going through, change is always possible. I think no matter what, there is light at the end of the tunnel. You might not like what you’re going through at that time, and it’s not that you deserve it, but there is hope. There is a way that you can get through things.

I would just say that – there is hope. There’s always hope.

Magazica: There’s always hope. There’s always, always hope. And finally, though I said we would leave our audience with a powerful message, we want to end with your dream. What do you see on the horizon? What do you see in the coming times that you are doing?

Amy de Nobriga: Well, as I’ve started my private practice, The Walking Therapist – delivering counselling services as you walk, like with your dog, pushing a little one in the stroller, or through work or school, like at university, walking around the campus with you – it’s really about mobile therapy. Even coming to your home. I still do phone or video chat too, but essentially, it’s about making therapy tailored to the person in front of me.

I really believe that The Walking Therapist literally is meeting people where they’re at – like their house – and that’s my philosophy as a social worker and therapist: walking alongside them. It’s literally and figuratively what I believe in as a practitioner.

I’m excited about that. I’d like to grow into a group practice, and I’m hoping to provide some free workshops for people as well. I’m excited to continue growing into a group practice and hope to offer free workshops. That’s what I’m really excited about.

Magazica: Walk the talk, walk the therapy.

Amy de Nobriga: Yes, exactly.

Magazica: Fantastic. With that, all the best of luck and good wishes for your effort. You are trying to do things passionately, and you have learned a lot in the last two decades. I hope people will really resonate with that. Thank you so very much for giving us your time.

Amy de Nobriga: Thank you so much for having me. It’s great.

Magazica: Thank you very much, and I hope this is not the last talk. We will have another conversation with some very specific and focused issues in the future.

Amy de Nobriga: I’d like to. Thank you so much.

Magazica: Thank you.

The post Walking Beside People: Amy de Nobriga on Trauma, Healing, and the Future of Social Work appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

My first-year gardening, I bought a packet of tomato seeds from a big box store. They grew fine. But last summer, a friend who is Mohawk from Six Nations handed me a small envelope. Inside were corn seeds—her family’s corn, grown on the same land for generations. She said,

“These have stories. Listen to them.”

I planted them— I understood.

That is what seed saving is about. Not just growing food. Holding memory.

The Original Seed Keepers.

Long before seed catalogues arrived in the mail, Indigenous seed keepers collected saved and shared seeds from the plants that sustained them. For generations, First Nations, Inuit, and Métis peoples across Turtle Island carried a tradition that sustained them and their culture.[5].

These weren’t just seeds. They were medicine. Food. Memory.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, the celebrated Indigenous author and botanist, once wrote: “In some Native languages, the term for plants translates to ‘those who take care of us'” [5]. That relationship—plants taking care of us, and us taking care of plants—is at the heart of Indigenous seed saving.

A seed is not a commodity. It is a relative. A gift. A promise.

“Seeds carry stories, language and the taste of home.”

What Is Seed Sovereignty?

Seed sovereignty is the right to save, use, and share seeds. For Indigenous communities, it goes deeper: it is about cultural survival.

As researchers from the University of Manitoba explain, food sovereignty for Indigenous peoples is a necessary struggle for cultural survival. Many communities live in conditions shaped by colonial policies that disrupt traditional food systems [4].

But communities are fighting back—with seeds.

Seeds of Change: Stories from Across Canada.

Mohawk Seedkeeper Gardens (Six Nations, Ontario).

In Ohsweken, Ontario, Terrylynn Brant runs Mohawk Seedkeeper Gardens. For more than seven years, she has created a space where community members reconnect with the land through traditional Haudenosaunee practices: gardening, heritage seed saving, and native plant foraging [2].

Her newly launched Indigenous Food Trees Project is working to revitalize Haudenosaunee land management by re-establishing native food trees and removing invasive species that threaten traditional foraging grounds [2].

The Braiding Food Systems Project (Northern Ontario).

In Northern Ontario, the Braiding Food Systems Project is bringing together First Nations communities with researchers from the University of Guelph. The goal?

To co-develop and re-localize seed systems [3].

Partner communities include Red Rock Indian Band, Netmizaaggamig Nishnaabeg, and Biinjitiwaabik Zaaging Anishinaabek. Together, they are supporting community gardens, introducing climate-adapted Indigenous seed varieties, and braiding Indigenous knowledge with Western science [3].

Dr. Silvia Sarapura-Escobar describes it as a trust-building process rooted in “respectful partnerships and sustainable, culturally grounded approaches” [3].

Yukon Seed and Restoration (Yukon Territory).

In the Yukon, the First Nations Na-Cho Nyäk Dun Development Corporation co-owns Yukon Seed and Restoration (YSR), the territory’s first native seed bank. The company collects hyper-local seeds—called ecotypes—that have adapted to Yukon’s unique conditions: the cold, the short growing season and specific soil [1].

These seeds restore lands disturbed by mining and wildfire. Guided by Indigenous teachings, YSR follows Northern Tutchone protocols that promote leaving enough behind for plants to self-seed and fulfill their roles in feeding wildlife [1].

Indigenous Seed Collection Program (National).

In 2022, the National Tree Seed Centre launched the Indigenous Seed Collection Program (ISCP), an Indigenous-led initiative that supports seed collection capacity within Indigenous communities across Canada [5].

The program offers hands-on training in seed collection, processing, storage, and germination. It also provides long-term seed banking through agreements that respect community ownership and cultural considerations [5].

The program is grounded in “Two-Eyed Seeing,” coined by Mi’kmaw Elder Albert Marshall—learning to see with the strengths of Indigenous knowledge and Western science, together [5].

Seeds for Food Security.

For many Indigenous communities, access to healthy, traditional food remains a challenge. Colonial policies disrupted food systems. Today, many remote communities face high food prices and limited access to fresh produce.

Seed saving is part of the solution. By growing their own food from seeds and shared within the community, Indigenous families reclaim control over what they eat.

How You Can Support Indigenous Seed Sovereignty.

1. Learn about the land.Understanding whose territory you are on is a first step toward respecting the seed-keeping traditions that have existed there for millennia.
2. Support Indigenous-led organizations.Consider donating to or volunteering with initiatives like the Indigenous Seed Collection Program or Mohawk Seedkeeper Gardens.
3. Grow native plants.If you garden, incorporate native plants. They support biodiversity, climate resilience, and Indigenous cultural needs.
4. Listen.Follow Indigenous seed keepers. Attend community events when invited. Amplify Indigenous voices.

The promise of a Seed.

Across Canada, Indigenous communities are reclaiming their role as seed keepers—not to return to the past, but to build a future rooted in sovereignty, resilience, and relationship with the land.

That is not just seed saving.

That is resurgence.

The post Canadian Indigenous Seed Saving: Preserving Culture and Food Security appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

At school, teachers notice that the child rarely speaks and seems easily startled by loud sounds. At night, sleep is often broken by nightmares. The child sometimes complains of stomach pain, but medical tests show nothing is physically wrong.

To doctors who work with refugee families, these signs are sadly familiar. They are reminders that the effects of war do not end when a child reaches safety.
Across Canada, pediatricians and mental-health professionals are learning that the impact of war on children is often deeper and more complex than once believed. Instead of treating war trauma only as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Canadian health experts now describe it as complex developmental trauma. This approach acknowledges that war can impact multiple aspects of a child’s life simultaneously, including physical health, emotional well-being, relationships, and learning.

Organizations such as the Canadian Pediatric Society and the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health encourage doctors, educators, and communities to work together when caring for children who have experienced armed conflict.

A Broader Understanding of War Trauma.
For many years, PTSD was the main diagnosis used to describe the psychological effects of war. Children with PTSD may experience nightmares, flashbacks, fear, or difficulty feeling safe.
However, Canadian pediatric experts say this diagnosis does not always capture the full experience of children who have grown up around violence or displacement.
According to the Canadian Pediatric Society, children affected by war often face several challenges at the same time. These may include emotional distress, learning difficulties, physical health concerns, and problems building trusting relationships.
War can interrupt the everyday experiences that support healthy childhood development. Many young people lose stable homes, regular schooling, and safe communities. Some may have been forced to move many times or spend long periods in refugee camps.
Because these experiences affect development in many ways, Canadian clinicians increasingly describe them as complex developmental trauma rather than a single mental-health disorder.

Looking at the Whole Child.
Canada’s health system often takes a whole-child approach when assessing refugee and newcomer children.
Instead of focusing on one symptom, doctors try to understand a child’s full situation. This includes physical health, emotional well-being, family circumstances, and educational needs.
Many children arriving from conflict zones have faced disruptions in medical care. They may have missed vaccinations or suffered from malnutrition. Others may have lived with chronic stress for long periods of time.
For example, a child who complains frequently of stomach pain may actually be showing signs of emotional stress. Sleep problems, headaches, and trouble concentrating in school can also be connected to traumatic experiences.
By examining the full picture, doctors can provide care that addresses both physical and emotional needs.

Why Development Matters.
Childhood is a time when the brain grows and changes quickly. During these years, children develop language, social skills, emotional control, and the ability to learn.
When a child lives in a constant state of fear or uncertainty, these developmental processes can be disrupted.
Research published in Pediatrics & Child Health shows that refugee children may experience delays in language development, problems concentrating in school, or difficulty managing strong emotions. These responses are natural reactions to extreme stress during critical periods of growth.

Early Screening and Assessment.
War trauma does not always appear immediately. Some children may seem calm at first, but develop symptoms later as they begin adjusting to their new environment.
For this reason, Canadian health professionals often screen newcomer children for a wide range of concerns.

Doctors may look for:
• anxiety or emotional distress
• sleep disturbances or nightmares
• learning difficulties
• developmental delays
• nutritional problems
These screenings help identify children who may need extra support. They also allow families to access mental-health services, educational resources, and community programs.
Early support can make a significant difference in a child’s recovery.

Trauma-Informed Care.
Another key element of Canada’s approach is trauma-informed care.
Trauma-informed care recognizes that children who have lived through war or displacement may feel unsafe or overwhelmed in unfamiliar settings. Health professionals, therefore, work to create environments that feel predictable and respectful.
This approach often includes:
• building trust with the child and family
• providing calm and structured clinical settings
• allowing children to express themselves through play or art
• using interpreters when language barriers exist
The goal is to help children regain a sense of safety and control in their lives.
The Canadian Pediatric Society recommends trauma-informed approaches when caring for children who have experienced armed conflict.

Supporting the Whole Family.
War trauma rarely affects only one person. Parents and caregivers may also struggle with grief, stress, or anxiety after fleeing conflict.
When adults face these challenges, children feel the impact.
For this reason, many Canadian programs focus on family-centred care. Mental-health support may be offered to parents as well as children. Social workers help families connect with housing services, employment programs, or language training.
Helping families rebuild stability can strengthen children’s emotional recovery.

The Role of Schools and Communities.
Schools and community organizations play a major role in helping war-affected children adapt to life in Canada.
Settlement agencies provide many services designed to support newcomer families. These programs may include counselling, language training, tutoring, and recreational activities that help children build friendships.
Programs funded by Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada support settlement and integration services for refugee families across the country.
Schools also provide structure and routine, which can help children regain a sense of normal life. Teachers who understand trauma can help students feel safe while encouraging learning and social connections.
Friendships and supportive relationships often become powerful sources of resilience.

Resilience and Recovery.
Although the effects of war trauma can be serious, many children show remarkable resilience.
Research suggests that supportive relationships, stable housing, and access to education can help young people recover from traumatic experiences. Over time, children who feel safe and supported can regain confidence and emotional strength.
Canadian health experts emphasize that recovery is possible when children have access to strong family support and welcoming communities.

A Shared Responsibility.
Canada’s approach to caring for war-affected children reflects a broader belief that protecting children’s well-being is a shared responsibility.
Doctors, educators, community organizations, and government programs all play important roles in helping young newcomers rebuild their lives.
By recognizing war trauma as complex developmental trauma, Canada’s health system encourages cooperation across these systems.
For children who have experienced conflict, the journey toward healing may take time. But with the right care and support, many can grow beyond the hardships of their past and build healthy, hopeful futures in their new home.

Sources.

The post How Canada’s Health System Frames War-Affected Children: Understanding Complex Trauma in Young Newcomers appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

The Invisible Scars on the Mind.

War is never just about the physical destruction we see on the evening news; the most serious damage happens inside the minds of children who have no choice but to endure it. Recent studies show that nearly 32% of Ukrainian adolescents screen positive for moderate to severe depression, while 17.9% struggle with significant anxiety.

We must recognize that mental health is a fundamental human right, and for children of war, the psychological burden is often heavier than any physical wound.

Beyond the immediate fear of conflict, the long-term mental health burden can persist for years after a child reaches safety. In East Africa, research reveals a staggering 47.8% prevalence of PTSD among children exposed to armed conflict, highlighting how trauma can linger long after the guns fall silent.

True healing requires a long-term commitment to mental health support that extends far beyond the initial period of resettlement.

A Childhood Interrupted.

The most basic need of any child is a sense of predictable safety, yet war replaces that foundation with chaos and separation. During conflicts, children are frequently ripped away from their parents, a trauma that research shows has consistently negative effects on their social-emotional development and future well-being.

A child’s sense of security is built on the presence of their loved ones; when that bond is broken, their entire world feels unsafe.

When children are forced to flee their homes, they lose more than just a house – they lose their schools, their friends, and their routines. This “displacement trauma” creates a cumulative burden of stress that can lead to significant delays in cognitive and social development if not addressed early.

Stability is the soil in which children grow; without it, meeting developmental milestones becomes an uphill battle.

The Ripple Effect of Family Stress.

Children are like mirrors, often reflecting the trauma and stress held by the adults who care for them. Evidence suggests that war-related trauma can impact children indirectly through the family system, where a parent’s own distress can lead to difficulties in the parent-child relationship.

To effectively help a child recover from war, we must also provide the resources and support necessary to help their parents heal.

The way a parent interacts with their child during and after a conflict is a major predictor of the child’s long-term adjustment. Studies indicate that helping parents maintain warmth and limit harshness, even amidst the atrocities of war, acts as a critical protective shield for a child’s mental health.

Compassionate parenting is one of the strongest tools we have to foster resilience in the face of adversity.

Building Bridges to Resilience.

Resilience isn’t just something a child is born with; it’s something we build together through community and school support. Schools in Canada and around the world play an essential role in helping newcomer youth feel valued and connected, which is a key ingredient in “bouncing back” from the horrors of war.

Inclusion and a sense of belonging in our local communities are the best medicines for a heart burdened by war.

Effective recovery requires a “trauma-informed” approach that prioritizes emotional safety and helps children rebuild a sense of control over their lives. This includes everything from psychological first aid to creating safe places where children can simply be children again through play and interaction.

Small, concrete acts of kindness and structured routines are the building blocks of a new, safe reality for war-affected learners.

References.

Aloka, P. J. O., Ajayi, O., Zindoga, L., & Mnyamana, N. (2025). Psychosocial impact of war on the social and emotional development of young learners – An integrative review of literature. Perspectives in Education, 43(2), 5–19.
DOI:10.38140/pie.v43i2.8282

Bürgin, D., Anagnostopoulos, D., Vitiello, B., Sukale, T., Schmid, M., & Fegert, J. M. (2022). Impact of war and forced displacement on children’s mental health—multilevel, needs-oriented, and trauma-informed approaches. European Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 31, 845–853. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00787-022-01974-z

Elvevåg, B., & DeLisi, L. E. (2022). The mental health consequences on children of the war in Ukraine: A commentary. Psychiatry Research, 317, 114798. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114798

Goto, R., Skokauskas, N., et al. (2024). Mental health of adolescents exposed to the war in Ukraine. JAMA Pediatrics. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1001/jamapediatrics.2024.0295

Hazer, L., & Gredebäck, G. (2023). The effects of war, displacement, and trauma on child development. Humanities & Social Sciences Communications, 10, 861. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41599-023-02438-8

McElroy, E., Hyland, P., Shevlin, M., Karatzias, T., Vallières, F., Ben-Ezra, M., Vang, M. L., Lorberg, B., & Martsenkovskyi, D. (2024). Change in child mental health during the Ukraine war: Evidence from a large sample of parents. European Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 33, 1495–1502. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00787-023-02255-z

Adugna A, Abebe GF, Alie MS, Girma D. Post-traumatic stress disorder among children and adolescents affected by armed conflict in East Africa: a systematic review and meta-analysis. BMJ Paediatrics Open. 2026;10:e004100. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjpo-2025-004100

Vostanis, P. (2024). Mental health provision for children affected by war and armed conflicts. European Child & Adolescent Psychiatry, 33, 3293–3299.
https://doi.org/10.1007/s00787-024-02492-w

The post The Weight of a Thousand Miles: Why War’s Greatest Toll Is the Hearts of Our Children appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

Magazica: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, or welcome back. Today we are going to talk with Deborah Lehmann, who’s the President and CEO of The Ottawa Cancer Foundation.

She is known for turning community needs into practical programs and stronger partnerships. With two decades of nonprofit leadership, she blends strategic clarity with a trauma-informed and people-centred approach that advances equity and support for families facing cancer. A life-changing moment often starts a mission.

So, we will be taking a tour with her, and she will share how it shaped her perspective on life, advocacy, and nonprofit leadership. Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome Deborah Lehmann.

Deborah Lehmann: Thank you very much, happy to be here.

Magazica: Thank you. Let’s start from the very beginning – how it all started, and how you have been in this discussion. What first drew you toward community health and nonprofit leadership? And is there one personal moment, or maybe a bundle of experiences, that made you realize this would be your life’s work?

Deborah Lehmann: Yes. My love for community health came from my family, and my mother, in particular, was an incredible volunteer and deeply committed to community service in Ottawa. She wanted to help people, and what I remember the most is her time at The Ottawa Hospital, the Civic Campus. I was a young girl, and she was volunteering, and she would provide book cart service to patients.

That was an opportunity for her to go and visit patients in their rooms, let them choose a book, talk to them about why they chose that book, hear their stories, and be present for them – listen, get them a tea or coffee. She would come home with the most incredible stories, and that’s where I started to learn about the human connection, and about what difference it makes when someone feels heard. And when someone is listened to and can just share how they’re feeling in the moment.

Magazica: And those moments you experienced, and that you experienced through your mom, turned into your mission. In the nonprofit world – and sometimes even in the for-profit world – many leaders describe a single event that changed everything. Tell us a story about a turning point that shifted your priorities or the way you lead now.

Deborah Lehmann: When I was the Executive Director at the Abbotsford Hospice and Grief Support Society in British Columbia, I was leading an incredible team of staff and volunteers who were supporting people who were dying, their families, and those who were grieving.

One day, I heard that Canuck Place Children’s Hospice, located in Vancouver, was planning to extend its reach and build a hospice residence for children in Abbotsford. So instead of feeling, “Another organization that’s a hospice is coming to my city,” I thought, “How can we transform hospice services and do something no one has done before, and create an internal network of support between children and adults?”

So, I brought a group of community leaders together, along with the City of Abbotsford, and we talked about possibilities, and we dreamed big. We also brought another organization to the table – Communitas Supportive Care Society, which focused on children with complex care needs. And one thing led to another. As the discussions evolved, the magic happened.

We created the Campus of Care, the first one in North America that was designed to integrate an adult hospice, a children’s hospice and a respite home, all located on the same property. It was amazing. And it really changed not only our city, but the province, and that Campus of Care became a flagship for hospice services, end-of-life care, and grief support.

That experience fundamentally changed how I lead. I realized that transformational change doesn’t come from one organization acting alone. It takes more people to come to the table, more ideas, more inspiration, and, like I said, more dreams.

Magazica: And just for our readers, what is a hospice?

Deborah Lehmann: A hospice residence is a home-like medical facility where people come to spend their final days and receive comfort care. It provides end-of-life support that is focused on the patient, the family, truly understanding each unique circumstance and giving people choices about how they want to be in their final days. It’s really an incredible model.

Magazica: And just imagine the person knows that he or she is going to die.

Deborah Lehmann: That’s right. Often, home is where people want to be at end of life – where they’re comfortable, familiar, and where family is – but it’s not always possible. For many reasons. And so the hospice residence is where people can truly receive specialized care. And the biggest gift is that family can then be fully present because they don’t have to worry about the caregiving or fear that their loved one isn’t getting the support they need at the most critical time.

I’ve seen so many people, near the end of their lives, reach a place of peace. They have honest, meaningful conversations with people close to them. The hospice environment creates space for moments and words that might never have been shared otherwise.

It’s incredible to witness. Seeing someone die with peace is truly a gift.

Magazica: A great exit, sometimes they call it. A peaceful exit.

Deborah Lehmann: Absolutely.

Magazica: And this motto, or guiding principle, or guiding philosophy, is very nice, very proactive. But to manage the whole process is a very complex thing. So many professionals are involved, so much expertise is involved, so many different layers of duties and distribution of duties. You translate big, systematic problems into practical programs. So how do you decide-it’s not random cherry-picking-how do you decide systematically which problems to tackle first?

Deborah Lehmann: We have a Community Advisory Group at The Ottawa Cancer Foundation (people with lived experience of cancer) and a Community of Practice where we bring professionals to the table who are working in the cancer space, and aware of gaps in service, emerging trends, and critical needs that aren’t being addressed. One of the things we learned from these groups is that isolation is a big issue. People may have support systems, but they can still feel profoundly alone in their cancer experience. Either way, the impact is the same – they feel a sense of loneliness.

We’ve learned that support can take place in many ways. Interestingly, at the beginning of our Community Cancer Hub a few years ago, we had a nutrition program – helping people understand what makes sense to eat, when and why, depending on what they’re experiencing and what their cancer is like for them. On the surface, it addressed a practical need because nutrition is very important.

As we kept having conversations, it became clear that people wanted more connection. That’s how Simmer and Social came to be. It was about people showing up as they are and gathering around soup or a simple, comforting meal. What surprised us was how something so small turned into something so meaningful. Around a table of 24 people, new connections formed, friendships grew, and a real sense of community took shape. It offered social support, belonging, and a renewed sense of hope. It was incredible to witness then, and it still is today.

Magazica: And it enriches you. But whenever you’re managing a team of experts – Cancer System Navigators, counsellors, dieticians and social workers – so much expertise. How do you help these people, your staff, stay resilient without burning out?

Deborah Lehmann: This is a really good question. It’s about paying attention to the people I am working with.

People carry their life experiences and perspectives with them into the workplace. In environments such as community health that focuses on illness, grief, and uncertainty, staff can be triggered in unexpected ways.

At The Ottawa Cancer Foundation, this means leading with awareness and intention. We talk openly about what’s working and what isn’t, and we acknowledge when something hasn’t gone as planned. When mistakes happen, we name them, learn from them, and move forward together. That transparency builds trust and signals that learning and growth are valued.

We also create space for staff to process the emotional impact of their work, to reflect, and to ask for support without fear of judgment. We normalize pauses, boundaries, and honest conversations about capacity and wellbeing. That transparency and that ongoing, consistent message to staff and volunteers helps build trust and gives people confidence.

What I notice is that our team is incredibly conscientious. They care deeply about doing good work, and when something doesn’t go as planned, they tend to be hard on themselves because it matters to them. They are compassionate, driven people who genuinely want to do their best. My role is often about encouraging them to give themselves grace. That matters more than we sometimes realize. Being able to forgive yourself is essential.

Magazica: Let’s talk about partnership now. You have made a lot of partnerships with organizations, agencies, advocacy groups, caregivers – so many types of services. Tell us about one partnership that surprised you with how much it achieved, and what made it succeed.

Deborah Lehmann: This is a special one for me.

It was during COVID 19, and I was Executive Director of the Parent Resource Center. During the pandemic, everything changed quickly. We were hearing from parents who used our services that the basics were slipping out of reach. They told us what they were missing, what they felt they needed. I had a flashback to my experience Abbotsford and thought, “Who can I get to the table who will help us bring as many supplies, food, and resources as possible to families in this big neighbourhood we serve?”

So, we made a decision to act. We expanded the Community Parent Cupboard, even though it sat outside our traditional scope, because it was clear it needed to exist. Through strong cross-sector partnerships and persistent advocacy, we secured funding from all three levels of government. That support allowed us to offer free care packages with baby supplies, personal care items, cleaning products, children’s activities, grocery gift cards, home deliveries, and virtual counselling. We also extended the hours of our parent support line so families could reach a real person when they needed it most.

In Strathcona Heights during Covid, we collaborated with Ottawa Community Housing, Sandy Hill Community Health Centre, the City of Ottawa, and the Mission Food Truck, to bring prepared meals directly into the neighbourhood every second Thursday, making access simple and dignified for residents.

Alongside that work, we partnered with many of the same organizations and a local food bank partner agency to distribute food boxes to families in the community. Together, these initiatives helped removed barriers, met families where they were, and showed what’s possible when supports are coordinated. I didn’t realize the significant impact it would have or how it would start such an incredible community connection. People still talk about it today.

Magazica: That’s why, when we started Magazica, we made our launch day the first of July.

Deborah Lehmann: Oh, Canada Day!

Magazica: This is for the people of Canada, so this should be on the 1st of July – Canada Day.

Deborah Lehmann: It’s about storytelling, right?

Magazica: And this is one of the reasons for starting Magazica – we want to bring out the people who are serving others. You can say so many things about many aspects, but the people who are actually making a difference, people should know about them. And that’s why we are having this conversation.

Deborah Lehmann: I love that.

Magazica: So, as an HR professional, equity is a big thing for me – equity in action. Equity and human rights are central to your approach. Can you share a concrete change that you led or advocated for that made services more accessible or fairer for people facing barriers?

Deborah Lehmann:

The first thing we did was remind ourselves that we don’t actually know what’s best for everyone. It’s easy to forget that, especially when you’re an expert in a particular area. But we’re not the experts in what works for every person.

So we slowed down and really listened. We listened to our clients and to community partners working in this space, and we resisted the urge to rush to solutions. What we heard was that there are real barriers we don’t always think about, like transportation and childcare.

That led us to ask different questions. How do we reach people where they are? How do we make access easier? How do we address everyday barriers that quietly exclude people? A few examples are we provide bus tickets for those facing transportation or financial challenges, partner with the Good Food Box to deliver fresh fruits and vegetables directly to clients’ homes, and offer interpretation through our Cancer System Navigation program, with navigators who speak English, French, and Arabic.

We also recognize that people may not be able to access everything at once. Needs change over time. Someone might need one kind of support today and something different later. That flexibility is essential, and it’s part of what allows us to offer a more responsive and meaningful model of supportive cancer care.

We know that no single organization can do it all. That’s why partnerships matter so much. We work with more than 80 partners, which allows us to respond quickly and bring in supports we can’t provide ourselves. Some partners offer services in our building, others support people closer to home through community centres.

Magazica: Beautiful to hear. There is one very favourite novel of mine – The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. I don’t know if you’ve read it or not. There’s a beautiful line: “One for all and one for all.” All for one and one for all.

Deborah Lehmann: Well, yes.

Magazica: Whenever you talk about partnership, it echoes in my mind.

Magazica: That’s the spirit of Canada.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes.

Magazica: That’s the true Canadian spirit, and that’s what we stand for now.

Magazica: When my team and I were going through your LinkedIn bio, one term really caught our eyes – grief educator. I’ve never heard it. You were trained as a grief educator and coach. And in this age of AI, when I came across the term – because I had no clue what it was – I looked into it and dug a bit deeper, just scratching the surface. You are the real expert. How have those skills as a grief educator and coach changed the way you support teams during difficult times like COVID? And can you share a moment that still sticks with you?

Deborah Lehmann: One moment that really stays with me happened during a team meeting when emotions were running high. We were talking about a slowdown in workflow and systems implementation, and it was clear people were frustrated. We’d been through a lot of organizational change, and through my training as a grief educator, I’ve learned that change almost always brings some form of grief, even when people don’t recognize it at the time.

My training has grounded me in what I call the Power of the Pause, something I’ve since spoken about in a community keynote. Instead of pushing the agenda forward, I paused the meeting and named what I was noticing. This didn’t feel like a skills issue or a performance problem, but a very human one.

I invited the team to take a breath and reflect on what the past year had demanded of them, both personally and professionally. That pause shifted everything. The tone softened, people felt permission to be honest, and the conversation moved toward problem-solving.

It reinforced for me that grief-informed leadership is about recognizing when change has taken a toll and knowing when to create space and listen.

Magazica: And in HR, we were told two things whenever change management comes up – it’s a big, big thing in HR. So when you say “the power of pause,” yes, if it is used and applied correctly…the things you are saying – paying attention to people and caring for people – they immediately translate through that power of pause.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes, exactly. You’re right. Sometimes silence can be awkward, but…

Magazica: A strategic pause is a great thing – being very careful before answering or responding. And you are considering the other person’s every word, perspective, fear, and whatever the person is going through in the face of change.

Deborah Lehmann: It’s really about respecting where people are at. Working through challenges together leads to learning, stronger relationships, and deeper connection. In a nonprofit setting, the work is complex, with many perspectives to hold. We’re engaging funders, donors, clients, board members, and community partners who are all well-intended and invested, and the work is in listening and bringing those voices together thoughtfully.

Magazica: As the… I’m a big fan of Stoic philosophy. The obstacle is the way.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes, absolutely.

Magazica: And the beauty is that everyone comes on board with good intentions.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes.

Magazica: But with their own set of principles and working strategies.

Deborah Lehmann: That’s right.

Magazica: So it’s like all the different musicians with different musical instruments. You have to create the symphony.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes, I love that. I’m going to use that.

Deborah Lehmann: I will ask people what instrument they’re playing.

Magazica: Someone is very soft with a flute, someone else with bagpipes, drums… they have their own ideas, their own energy, but you yourself cannot play every musical instrument. You have to be the bandmaster. But a symphony must be created.

Deborah Lehmann: Nice.

Magazica: When I was talking to you, I thought, “How does she manage that?” And then suddenly it came to me – she’s the conductor! And because you’re arranging everything. And when you partner with more than 80 organizations, it’s a feat in itself. Just remembering the names of 80 organizations is a task in itself.

And now, practical takeaways for listeners – for someone who wants to support a friend or family member with cancer, or any kind of terminal disease. What are a few simple, practical things they can do? You have more than two decades of experience in this.

Deborah Lehmann: Well, you can probably guess the first word I’m going to say, which is listen. We’ve talked quite a bit about listening and its benefits. And it’s knowing that you don’t have to fix someone’s situation or find the perfect words. Listening and being present – no advice necessary, no comparisons necessary – is incredibly powerful. A simple text like “I’m thinking of you today,” or “I’m here, no pressure to reply,” can mean more than you realize. To be present for somebody else, like my mother taught me some 40 years ago, or maybe more. I won’t say how many years ago it was. But it’s such a gift for your friend or colleague to be seen and heard.

And consistently – to keep showing up. They will probably need to be seen and heard again in several days, several weeks, or several months. The process can be long, and many things take place along the way. You can help by coordinating meals, handling logistics, childcare or offering to drive them to appointments can be one of the most meaningful gifts you can give.

Magazica: When someone’s unwell.

Deborah Lehmann: Yes – it’s the simple things. So offer. Don’t say, “What can I do?” because that often doesn’t work – sometimes someone doesn’t know what they need. But they know they need help.

Magazica: How do you lead through uncertainty?

Deborah Lehmann: I start by pausing. When things feel chaotic, I come back to my values and boundaries. That’s what keeps me grounded and stops me from getting pulled into noise or false urgency.

Most importantly, I return to purpose. Just this past Monday, I was having a tough day and feeling discouraged. Then I walked into an orientation with volunteers who are fundraising for Laugh for the Cure. Sitting at that table shifted everything for me.

Being with people who believe in the work, who care deeply about supporting those living with cancer, reminded me why I’m here and why I love leading in this space. I shared my own connection to the cause, listened to their stories, and felt my energy return. I left thinking, this is it. This is why I do this work.

Magazica: What is the single most important piece of advice you give to emerging leaders – millennials, Gen Z, and now Gen Alpha – who want to work in health and community sectors? What is your advice to the aspiring next-generation leaders?

Deborah Lehmann: I always remind emerging leaders how complex this sector really is. There are many layers, many people, and a lot of moving parts. Taking the time to understand how systems work is essential, and that starts with listening and overcommunicating, not just talking more, but communicating more intentionally. That means asking clarifying questions, checking assumptions, sharing context early, and making sure people understand not just the what, but the why behind decisions.

Knowing who you are, what motivates you, and how you fit into this system gives you confidence and clarity. This work can be challenging, but curiosity makes a huge difference. Ask why, explore what’s possible, and don’t be afraid to imagine what things could look like if you had a magic wand. That kind of deeper, more expansive thinking is what helps the next generation of leaders grow and lead well.

Magazica: We are living in a challenging time, so this will be our last talking point. What is the thing that keeps you alive and motivated? What gives you hope for the future of cancer care and community support?

And science is advancing, discovering new horizons. But what is the hope, the core belief that keeps you going? And which one action would you ask our people to take – this week, this month, today – to make a difference?

Deborah Lehmann: One of the things that was particularly inspiring for me and gave me a different kind of hope was our Dear Cancer campaign.

The campaign reframes how we talk about cancer, moving it out of silence and isolation and into honest conversation.

It’s a perfect example of community members coming together – people who have had cancer, who have cancer now – who were courageous enough to speak publicly, tell a bit of their story, and say, “Cancer, you tried this, but you didn’t,” or “You thought this, but that didn’t happen.”

That really shook things up for me and for many people in our community. It was disruptive enough that people thought, “Oh, that’s really amazing. What do I think about cancer? What about my family members who have cancer, had cancer, or didn’t survive cancer? What does that mean for them?”

The momentum is still going as more people are telling their stories. There is strength in community. We’re seeing it now – more attention being paid to the mental-health part of cancer, to social connections, to the new communities that are built.

Magazica: So, we are almost at the end of the discussion. We have talked about leadership, and we have talked about everything, but thank you for helping us understand that leadership also has care, compassion, and a heart. Thank you for sharing your ideas with us.

Deborah Lehmann: If I could say one last thing for people listening and reading – if I could suggest something they could do…Reach out to someone you care about and ask them a strategic question. Don’t just ask how they are – ask them something different, something you wouldn’t normally ask.

Magazica: So, from Magazica and from all our readers and listeners, I wish you all the very best. Please keep the music alive, and may many more people benefit from your future endeavours. Thank you very much for being with us today.

Deborah Lehmann: Thank you, much appreciated. Take care.

Magazica: Thank you.

Keywords: Cancer care leadership; Community health support; Trauma‑informed leadership; Nonprofit partnerships; Grief education

The post How Compassion Becomes Strategy: Deborah Lehmann on Cancer Care, Hope, Equity, Community Impact and Leading with Heart appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

]]> https://magazica.com/the-promise-of-the-canadian-dental-care-plan/ Mon, 15 Dec 2025 05:08:47 +0000 https://magazica.com/?p=10343 National Dental Hygiene Month shines a light on oral health’s importance to...

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National Dental Hygiene Month shines a light on oral health’s importance to overall wellness. Poor dental hygiene is associated with cardiovascular disease, diabetes and adverse pregnancy outcomes, yet cost barriers prevent many Canadians from accessing care. The 2024 roll out of the Canadian Dental Care Plan (CDCP) aims to offer insurance coverage to uninsured low and middle income families. This report assesses oral health disparities and the potential impact of the CDCP.

The State of Oral Health

Dental care in Canada is largely privately funded. Routine check ups and preventive services are expensive, and dental benefits are unevenly distributed. Statistics Canada’s study on cost related avoidance of oral health services found that 28 % of Canadians did not visit an oral health professional in the previous year. Among those who skipped visits, 49 % cited cost as the main reason, and 24 % avoided care even though they had visited a professional at another time. Households with adjusted family net income under $90 000 were almost three times as likely to avoid dental visits compared with those above that threshold. Canadians without dental insurance were especially vulnerable: 45 % avoided visits due to cost.

Young adults and marginalized groups face disproportionate barriers. Nearly one third of 18–34 year olds avoided dental care. Women (27 %) were more likely than men (22 %) to cite cost, and racialized Canadians and persons with disabilities reported higher avoidance rates. These figures illustrate how oral health inequities intersect with income, gender and race.

The Canadian Dental Care Plan

The CDCP provides coverage for children, seniors and adults without private insurance whose family income is below $90 000. Covered services include preventive care, fillings, root canals and dentures. Preliminary data from the 2025 Survey of Oral Health Care Providers show that 96 % of practices were accepting new patients and that wait times for non emergency appointments were typically under one month. However, 80 % of practices reported staffing challenges, suggesting capacity constraints as millions of new patients seek care.

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Oral Health and Systemic Health

Though the present study does not outline disease associations, research links periodontal disease to cardiovascular conditions, diabetes and adverse pregnancy outcomes. Untreated dental infections can lead to sepsis, and poor oral health affects nutrition and school attendance. Senior citizens with poor dentition are at risk of malnutrition and pneumonia. Oral health is therefore a public health issue rather than purely cosmetic.

Barriers Beyond Cost

While the CDCP mitigates financial barriers, others persist. Rural and Indigenous communities frequently lack dental providers. Fear of dental procedures, language barriers and inaccessible clinics deter patients. People with disabilities may struggle to find suitable offices. Public education campaigns that emphasize brushing, flossing, fluoridation and healthy diets must accompany the CDCP to maximize benefits.

The Road Ahead

Implementing the CDCP successfully will require cooperation across governments, dental associations and educational institutions. Workforce planning is crucial to ensure an adequate supply of dentists and hygienists, especially in underserved areas. Policy initiatives such as subsidized dental education for students who commit to rural practice may help. Continuous data collection will be vital for monitoring uptake and outcomes. Integrating dental care with public health initiatives—such as school based screening and community water fluoridation—can further reduce disparities.

Conclusion

Oral health is fundamental to overall well being. The Canadian Dental Care Plan offers an opportunity to reduce long standing disparities, but success depends on addressing workforce shortages and non financial barriers. National Dental Hygiene Month underscores that routine brushing and flossing are not enough; equitable access to professional dental care is essential.

References

Statistics Canada. (2024a). Cost-related avoidance of oral health services www150.statcan.gc.ca.
Statistics Canada. (2025). Survey of oral health care providers: Early findings www150.statcan.gc.ca.

The post The Promise of the Canadian Dental Care Plan appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

]]> https://magazica.com/diana-gifford-jones-on-global-health-education-and-carrying-forward-the-legacy-of-dr-w-gifford-jones-md-dr-ken-walker/ Sat, 15 Nov 2025 17:11:18 +0000 https://magazica.com/?p=8322 Imagine a voice that bridges the worlds of health, education, and human...

The post Diana Gifford-Jones on Global Health, Education, and Carrying Forward the Legacy of Dr. W. Gifford-Jones, MD (Dr. Ken Walker) appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

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Imagine a voice that bridges the worlds of health, education, and human resilience—a voice sharpened by decades of global leadership and personal legacy. Diana MacKay, daughter of the fearless Canadian health columnist W. Gifford-Jones, MD, has spent over 25 years shaping conversations that matter: how we learn, how we live, and how we care for one another. From the World Bank to Canadian universities, her work connects ideas to action and people to purpose. In this candid conversation, Diana reveals lessons from her father, insights from her career, and a vision for building healthier, fairer systems worldwide. According to her, “I was deeply influenced by the conversations we shared—often around the kitchen table—about the importance of preventative health and questioning conventional wisdom. My father encouraged me to think critically and to approach challenges with both curiosity and compassion, which ultimately shaped my path in advocating for change beyond clinical practice.” Let us dive in.

Magazica: Dear viewers and readers, today we welcome someone whose work sits at the powerful intersection of education, health, and human resilience. Diana Gifford-Jones has spent over 25 years shaping global conversations around how we learn, how we live, and how we care for one another. From her leadership at the World Bank to her work with Canadian universities and global health institutions, Diana has built a career on connecting ideas to action and people to purpose.

But today’s conversation carries a deeper resonance. Just days ago, Diana lost her father, beloved and known to millions as W. Gifford-Jones, MD. For over five decades, Dr. Gifford-Jones was a fearless voice in Canadian health journalism, a champion of common-sense medicine, and a tireless advocate for patient rights. His columns, books, and bold opinions shaped public discourse and inspired generations to take charge of their own health.

Now Diana continues that legacy—not just as a daughter, but as a thought leader in her own right. Through her writing, advocacy, and leadership, she is helping to carry forward the values her father stood for: courage, clarity, and compassion.

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s dive into a deeper conversation with Diana. Diana, welcome to Magazica.

Diana Gifford-Jones: Thank you very much.

Magazica: We’ve seen your profile and your work spanning over 25 years across continents and institutions. Was there any personal experience or moment with your father that first lit the fire for your work in education and health?

Diana Gifford-Jones: Looking back, I suppose the fire might best have been lit if I had become a doctor like my father. But from the time I was a little girl—and still to this day—I’m extraordinarily squeamish when it comes to blood.

My father was a gynecological surgeon, and that involves being comfortable in the operating theater. That was my understanding of what it meant to be a doctor, so I never pursued it. Now, I’m deeply involved in many aspects of health and healthcare. It would have been terrific if I’d had the early motivation to study anatomy, biology, chemistry—all the things that are so important now, especially as we see advances in science and medicine leaping into new frontiers.

But for me, it was more a story of observing my father’s energy, feeling it within me, and wanting to do something exciting and different. I ran off to do it, without a strong early connection to medicine.

Magazica: Your father, W. Gifford-Jones, was a bold and beloved voice in Canadian health. This is a very emotional and relevant moment, especially in light of the discoveries you’ve just mentioned. What lessons from his life and work inspire you most and are ones you want to carry forward?

Diana Gifford-Jones: One of the most inspiring aspects was his passion for natural health. He was an anti-establishment medical doctor—a maverick. That’s not to say he didn’t pursue perfection in his craft as a traditional doctor and surgeon, but he was always deeply respectful of the importance of natural health.

He believed in looking first to common-sense solutions that didn’t involve high-tech pharmaceutical products. He was very cautious about those and considered them only as a second-order possibility. I’d like very much to pursue his passion for natural health.

Interestingly, that passion was closely tied to cardiovascular and heart health, which was really the core of his life’s work. Certainly, over the last 30 years, he has focused on questioning the immediate, knee-jerk solution of prescribing cholesterol-lowering drugs for heart disease. If you’ve read his work, you’ll see it shines in that regard.

He suffered a heart attack himself at 74—a really bad one that nearly killed him. His cardiologists all encouraged him to take cholesterol-lowering drugs. Some even said, “You won’t make it for two years if you don’t take those drugs.” But my father had interviewed Linus Pauling, the Nobel laureate who studied molecular and cellular science. Pauling was a strong advocate for the role of natural vitamin C.

So my father’s life’s work—understanding the role of vitamin C and other natural ingredients like lysine and magnesium in cardiovascular health—was instrumental to him. It gave him another 30 years of life, and it gave me 30 more years with him. I will definitely continue to pursue that work and convey to people that it’s not always a high-tech solution. Sometimes Mother Nature has a really good one for us.

Magazica: Regarding magnesium, my doctor is also a naturopath, so he believes in naturopathy and practices it if patients are willing. I was very willing. He told me magnesium plays a big role in cardiovascular health, but I had no clue about vitamin C.

It was from Dr. Gifford-Jones’ final book—Chris was kind enough to send it to me, Healthy Retirement Residence Living: What Does the Doctor Say?—that I first learned about vitamin C in detail. Right at the beginning of the book, he explained it. It was fascinating and eye-opening for me. I was really looking forward to having a conversation with him, but unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Still, I was enlightened, as you mentioned, about the very big role vitamin C plays.

Diana Gifford-Jones: This speaks to another wonderful feature of my father—he always had an opinion. He certainly had one about vitamin C. It was often perceived as just that, an opinion. But what’s really interesting is that there has been a lot of research on vitamin C. The vast majority, however, is on microscopic doses—what my father would consider very small, like 90 milligrams. Health authorities around the world give recommendations based on immunity or basic day-to-day functioning.

But what my father, Linus Pauling, and select others were interested in was cardiovascular performance. For that, you need high doses—much higher than you’d normally get in your diet. That’s the part of his opinion I will carry forward. We need more research with high doses of vitamin C, and we need large-scale human trials to see if the findings of Dr. Pauling and others can be credibly validated. If so, we could throw cholesterol-lowering drugs out the door and give people a much cheaper, easier solution—one that doesn’t cause harm, is low-cost, and is accessible to everyone.

Magazica: Yes. And the book is written in such a conversational tone. I guess he was a very good sport in speaking and in conversation, because while I was reading, it felt as if I were listening to him right in front of me. His style—addressing “ladies and gentlemen” and then moving into the next thought—made me feel like he was speaking directly to me, not to a big audience. I felt like the only audience.

Diana Gifford-Jones: He was a real classic doctor in that sense—true bedside manner.

Magazica: Yes, I can totally see that. From reading his book, I imagine one of the fondest pictures of his life’s activity: him sitting in a chair, totally relaxed, sharing his ideas. Whether speaking to one patient, a small group, or a large audience, he seemed completely at ease. People would come away with new insights, often awed by what they heard. I think that must be one of the pictures you carry of your father, isn’t it?

Diana Gifford-Jones: Absolutely. And it’s a picture many people are writing to me about now. The tributes are pouring in—from past patients, past colleagues, people who heard him speak across the country, and even those who never met him but read his weekly column. They all say the same thing: “I feel like I’ve lost a member of my family.”

Magazica: Totally. I never met him personally, not even over Zoom, but whenever I was reading his book, I felt the same vibe. That’s why I mentioned earlier—it’s so conversational and fascinating.

Okay, moving on. You worked at the World Bank, and now you’re back on home soil, holding leadership roles on both national and global scales. How has your international experience shaped your approach? You’ve seen so much—worked with various nationalities, and every country’s healthcare system has its own character and tone. How have those experiences influenced your approach to health and education here in Canada?

Diana Gifford-Jones: For sure, it’s reminded me how lucky we are here in Canada. Sometimes, especially recently, we hear a lot of discourse about difficulties in finding a doctor, wait lists, and so on. But we have a wonderful system, and we need to be very grateful that it’s a proudly public system. Very few countries in the world have what we have.

That’s been made very clear to me. But we’re bankrupting it. My father underscored that point year after year. The epidemic of diabetes, the epidemics of poor lifestyle choices—these are causing costs to skyrocket, and they’re completely avoidable.

That’s the real pain in my heart about our system. We’ve got a beautiful healthcare system, but we’re not showing it the respect it deserves. We’re not taking the steps, as individuals or as a society, to protect it and ensure we don’t bankrupt it.

Magazica: Yes. And one of the major themes your father shared with so many other luminary doctors we’ve spoken to on this platform is that prevention is always better than cure.

Diana Gifford-Jones: Absolutely. Prevention is better than a cure. Unfortunately, what’s becoming clear to me is that even after a lifetime of making noise and having influence—in individual households and in the Canadian system—we’re still seeing trend lines moving in the wrong direction.

So advocacy alone is not enough. I look forward to getting into the trenches on what we can do to turn things around. That requires systems change, and it also requires individuals to think about their own lives—how they can live better, start early, and stick with it.

But we also need to put more pressure on larger stakeholders in our system—the ones who have created some of the challenges people are facing. That’s what I’m thinking about these days.

Magazica: I really like how you used and contextualized the word “advocacy.” That leads us to our next point. For many of our readers, education and health might seem like separate worlds, but in reality, they’re deeply connected. How do you see them working together to improve people’s lives—through advocacy, awareness, and how did your father’s philosophy influence that view?

Diana Gifford-Jones: The best answer I can give is in his column. Here was a medical doctor who, at a later stage of his life—around the age I am now—decided to become a journalist, a writer, and an educator.

It began back in the late 1950s, when he encountered women coming into his office who didn’t understand how their bodies worked. He realized he had work to do to educate women about their bodies and the basic procedures they could expect when they went to see a doctor. That’s when he wrote his first book on hysterectomy.

He had a flair for writing—or at least for reaching people. My mother, an English major, would say he had no flair for writing at all, because his style didn’t follow grammatical norms. But he had a gift for connecting with people. That’s why he was invited to write a weekly newspaper column, which he did—and people loved it.

He married education and health beautifully. Not everyone can do that, but he chose to, and he did it very well.

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Magazica: You’ve helped shape major partnerships and programs. Can you share a story where a seemingly small decision—something that might have looked trivial at the time, perhaps even inspired by your father’s no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point approach—ended up leading to a big impact?

Diana Gifford-Jones: That’s a good question. The occasion that comes to mind, and one I’m proud of, was when I was working at The Conference Board of Canada in Ottawa. We had a number of executive networks that convened leaders, and one of them was floundering. It didn’t have many members, and no one was paying much attention to it.

It was called the Roundtable on the Socioeconomic Determinants of Health. That’s a big set of words, but I understood what it was getting at—addressing health outcomes by looking at societal and economic factors. Without thinking too much, I got involved.

It turned out to be incredibly rewarding and impactful. We brought business leaders together with government and community leaders, and we started talking about what really drives health outcomes—beyond the things individuals can control, like diet and exercise. We are also shaped by the packaged food available in grocery stores, the way our communities are organized, how governments tax us, and what benefits they provide. These larger forces have an outsized influence on our lives.

My role wasn’t to dictate solutions but to bring people together. And from those conversations, some fantastic ideas emerged. One example was the recognition that companies filing taxes could play a huge role in health outcomes. It never occurred to me before that filing taxes would matter for low-income people who don’t owe any. But filing gives them access to benefits they’re entitled to.

H&R Block, for instance, offered free tax filing for low-income Canadians. That small service had a huge impact—helping people access benefits that could support them in getting back into employment or housing. It was a low-cost action for the company, but it made a massive difference for individuals and communities. That’s the kind of small, no-nonsense decision that can ripple outward in powerful ways.

Magazica: Oh, wow! I’m based in Toronto, and there’s actually an H&R Block office close to my house. I had no idea they did that.

Diana Gifford-Jones: I’m reaching back into the past now, but I hope they’re still doing it. And if they’re not, someone from H&R Block should hear this—because they ought to be. And so should other companies.

Magazica: I’ll definitely look into it, because that’s fascinating. And it’s exactly what Magazica is trying to do. We don’t always realize how many motivated, compassionate people are working to make lives better. We want to bring those stories of service to public knowledge. That’s the spirit of Magazica—what we stand for.

Let’s now go one layer deeper into the Canadian lens. What are some of the unique challenges—and opportunities—you see in Canada’s post-secondary or health education system when it comes to preparing students for a healthier, more resilient future?

Diana Gifford-Jones: I wish I had a happier story to tell here. I feel for our post-secondary institutions. On one hand, they’ve embraced the opportunity to provide wraparound services—housing, academic supports, and more. But when it comes to health supports, students have great needs.

Through lack of broader attention, we’ve downloaded responsibility onto colleges and universities to provide mental health supports. Students increasingly need them—especially after the pandemic, but really at any time, because this is such a difficult stage of life. It’s not surprising that students struggle with anxiety and other challenges.

But is that the role of a college or university? My preference would be that they focus on delivering education and skills training, with staff and experts dedicated to that mandate. Yet the reality is that institutions are now expected to respond to health issues as well. That’s a challenge.

And if we look earlier, at the K–12 level, we’re not doing what we should be doing either. Too often, schools send the wrong message—for example, that it’s okay to eat hot dogs or pizza for lunch. In my view, it’s not. Those foods are laden with salt, sugar, and unhealthy fats.

I admire the European model, where schools serve students a proper hot lunch at mealtime. We should be replicating that.

At the high school and post-secondary levels, we also need to do more around life skills training. Right now, we’re giving young people an education, but not enough tools to navigate life. In fact, I’d say we’ve done almost nothing in that regard. And that needs to change.

Magazica: I have some random thoughts about this. I usually jot them down in my pocket notebook, which I always carry with me. Before preparing for this interview, I flipped through its pages to see if any of those notes might connect with our conversation. I didn’t find one, but as you were talking about pizza lunches and so on, another thought struck me.

Should we really be putting vending machines in schools—stocked with chocolate bars, soda, and carbonated drinks?

Diana Gifford-Jones: This is exactly where I say we need to move from advocacy to action. We already know those things aren’t good for us. What astounds me is that companies producing soda drinks aren’t doing more themselves. I hope we’ll reach a tipping point where parents and young people realize these drinks are not healthy.

Let’s just take the soda industry as an example—but it could just as easily be vending machines filled with chocolate bars. These companies need to shift from positioning their products as everyday staples to positioning them as occasional rewards—say, after a hard workout. And beyond that, they should be in the business of providing healthier alternatives.

Magazica: Exactly. And we’re not trying to paint everyone as negative. But from the perspective of schools, parents, and teachers, the real question is: are we teaching our kids to make healthier choices about life? Isn’t that what your father, and now you, have always wanted for the next generation?

Diana Gifford-Jones: Absolutely. But the reality is that most people don’t invest in their health until it’s too late. There’s always a wake-up call. That’s why education is so important—we need to provide compelling evidence to young people in ways that encourage them to make healthy decisions early in life and stick with them.

Magazica: And this generation is smart. If we present the information in the right way, with the right statistics, I think they’ll follow along.

Diana Gifford-Jones: I hope so. I hope they get there soon.

Magazica: We all hope so—for the sake of the next generation. Now, shifting gears a little. You’ve built revenue-generating programs and led major initiatives. What’s one leadership lesson—perhaps passed on from your father, Dr. Gifford-Jones—that you wish more people knew? Just one, if you can.

Diana Gifford-Jones: I’d say it comes down to focusing on a good idea and addressing problems with solutions. My father had that in spades. He knew what he was doing with his life and what his work was going to be. That’s a wonderful gift—to focus on your passion, address problems with clarity, and pursue solutions with purpose.

Magazica: And in that connection, how do you bridge the gap for so many of our readers who want to make a difference but don’t know where to start? What advice would you give to someone who wants to contribute to global or local education and health without a formal background?

Diana Gifford-Jones: I tell people to read more—and to put down their phones. Read the old-fashioned way. I know I sound a bit old-fashioned myself, but I think it’s good advice. Even last night, I told my husband I was going to read, but the pull of my phone was strong. These devices are powerful influences.

If you want to have an impact—whether in global health or anything else—read more. Read widely. Read locally. Read globally. Find what interests you and pursue it. That’s how you’ll discover your passion. Once you do, you won’t need to look any further—you’ll find it, and you’ll enjoy it.

Magazica: Yes, and reading also does a great service to us. It slows us down. Instead of scrolling or rushing from email to email, a book forces us to settle into an idea, to sit with the words, to have a conversation with the author.

Diana Gifford-Jones: Exactly. Be authentic.

Magazica: That steadiness, that slowness—it keeps us grounded. I’d even say it makes us more sane.

Diana Gifford-Jones: More sane, more settled. And we all need more of that these days.

Magazica: Truly. Especially with the economy and the broader socioeconomic turbulence we’re facing. Which brings me to my next point. Let me batch two questions together: how do you see the role of innovation, and how do you see resilience in systems—particularly how technology is reshaping how we learn and live? We’re living in times of change and uncertainty. We’ve already touched on book reading as one way to ground ourselves. How do you see these forces shaping a better way of living?

Diana Gifford-Jones: You know, a lot of people are excited about innovation, technology, and systemic change. And while I share some of that excitement, it also frightens me a little.

All this innovation and technology—it’s certainly going to result in wonderful discoveries, and that’s the promise. But I worry that we’re innovating too quickly. The pace of change is so fast that we don’t have time to stop, reflect, and consider the consequences—or even study them. That leaves us living in an increasingly dangerous environment and society.

I wish we could spend more time studying innovation from every angle before rushing ahead. In healthcare, for example, there’s great promise that machine learning and AI will accelerate the discovery of cures for diseases. Scientists and labs everywhere are hoping for breakthroughs—like a cure for cancer or the cause of Alzheimer’s. But we’ve been hoping for a while, and the big discoveries haven’t come yet.

The promise is still there, and we’ll cheer on everyone working to crack those mysteries. But in day-to-day life, the breakneck speed of change is overwhelming. For young minds especially, the flood of information isn’t healthy. We all know it, and we’re struggling to manage it. That’s where we need to focus more effort.

Magazica: Yes, I couldn’t agree more. These are confusing, fast-paced times. And as we near the end of our conversation, I want to circle back to where we began—with your father, Dr. Gifford-Jones.

From what I’ve read of his writings, and from your book as well, he had a remarkable ability to see through confusion. Where others felt lost, he could cut through with clarity. His pen was like a scalpel—always advocating for patients, always putting patients first.

So let me ask you this: if you had a magic wand—knowing you already have the knowledge and experience, but multiplied many times over—and you could change one thing about how we approach education and health globally, what would it be? How would you carry forward W. Gifford-Jones’ legacy in that way?

Diana Gifford-Jones: That’s a big question. At times like this, I wish I had my dad on my shoulder to help me answer. He would have responded with wit, probably a historical reference, and then a quote from Shakespeare. He had a way of astounding us with those.

If he could wave a magic wand, he’d probably tell us all to pull up our socks, live healthier lifestyles, and take responsibility for ourselves.

For me, as a policy person who has worked in big systems, my perspective is a little different. Unlike my father, who focused on the individual at the bedside, I’d wave my wand to reduce inequalities in the world.

Inequalities have become so vast that they’re causing all kinds of harm. I would love for everyone to have a fair start in life. We don’t have that now, but we should. If I could wave a wand, every child would begin life with a fair chance.

And while I’m at it, I’d encourage everyone to follow the Golden Rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. My father wasn’t a fan of religion, and I’m not particularly religious either, but if I had the choice, I’d make everyone a Taoist.

Maybe that would make the world more stable—perhaps even more boring—but it would also be healthier, fairer, and more humble. It would give Mother Nature a fighting chance. The trees, the animals, the forests—they’d all have a better life, and humanity wouldn’t wreck it all.

Magazica: Thank you very much, Diana, for giving us your time and for such a candid, thoughtful conversation—in loving memory of W. Gifford-Jones and through the lens of your own vast experience. Thank you for enriching us.

Diana Gifford-Jones: It’s been a pleasure to speak with you, and I look forward to many more occasions.

Magazica: Thank you.

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Keywords: Global health leadership; Education and healthcare systems; Preventive health advocacy; Innovation and inequality; W. Gifford-Jones legacy

The post Diana Gifford-Jones on Global Health, Education, and Carrying Forward the Legacy of Dr. W. Gifford-Jones, MD (Dr. Ken Walker) appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

]]> https://magazica.com/honouring-indigenous-disability-awareness-month/ Sat, 15 Nov 2025 17:09:40 +0000 https://magazica.com/?p=8269 Established in 2015, Indigenous Disability Awareness Month (IDAM) celebrates the...

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Established in 2015, Indigenous Disability Awareness Month (IDAM) celebrates the contributions of Indigenous Peoples with disabilities and aims to address inequities they face. Federal Minister Kamal Khera notes that the month highlights the need for inclusive programs and accessible communities that respect equality rights. IDAM recognizes that disability intersects with colonization, poverty, discrimination and cultural strength. November provides a space to honour resilience and advocate for systemic change.

Disability prevalence is higher among Indigenous Peoples than among non Indigenous Canadians. An analysis by Indigenous Watchdog reports that 32 % of First Nations people living off reserve, 30 % of Métis and 19 % of Inuit aged 15 + had disabilities that limited daily activities. These rates exceed those of the non Indigenous population and reflect a combination of factors: higher rates of chronic diseases, limited access to health services, intergenerational trauma and environmental conditions such as inadequate housing. Pain related disabilities are the most common, and disability prevalence is higher among women than men.

Socio economic factors further influence health outcomes. Remote communities often lack accessible transportation, assistive technologies and culturally safe healthcare. Many Indigenous People with disabilities face barriers to employment and education. In response, the Government of Canada is working with partners to create inclusive workplaces and remove accessibility barriers. Programs like the Accessibility Strategy for the Public Service of Canada and the Indigenous Community Support Fund aim to improve accessibility, support caregiving and enhance infrastructure.

Cultural perspectives on disability differ among nations. Some communities view disability as part of a person’s holistic identity rather than a deficit. Traditional healing practices and ceremonies emphasize community connection, spirituality and balance. CHFA’s trend on Collective Wisdom speaks to the resurgence of traditional healing and intergenerational knowledge sharing. Elders often provide guidance on adapting daily activities and managing chronic conditions using herbal medicines, storytelling and land based activities.

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Creating inclusive environments requires listening to those with lived experience. Nothing about us without us—Indigenous persons with disabilities must be involved in planning programs and policies. Accessible housing initiatives should incorporate universal design and respect cultural practices (for example, accommodating large family gatherings and space for spiritual items). Education systems must provide appropriate accommodations, such as interpreters for deaf students or assistive devices. Health services should be trauma informed and culturally safe, with Indigenous health workers and patient navigators bridging gaps.

The movement for diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) in the wellness industry, highlighted by CHFA, reinforces the importance of representation and accessibilitychfa.ca. Products and services—from fitness classes to mental health apps—should consider Indigenous languages, accessible design and cultural relevance. Land based wellness programs (like paddle making workshops or medicine walks) support both physical rehabilitation and cultural connection. Rewilding, another wellness trend, encourages time in nature; for many Indigenous Peoples, connection to land is foundational to healing.

Closing note

Indigenous Disability Awareness Month is a reminder to celebrate the strengths of Indigenous Peoples with disabilities and to acknowledge ongoing inequities. Individuals can support by listening to Indigenous voices, advocating for accessible services and challenging stereotypes. Organizations can partner with Indigenous communities to develop culturally safe programs, ensure physical and digital accessibility, and promote Indigenous leadership. As we honour resilience and creativity, we move towards a more inclusive Canada where all people—regardless of ability—can thrive.

References

canada.ca – Minister Kamal Khera: statement celebrating Indigenous Disability Awareness Month and highlighting inclusive programs and commitments.

indigenouswatchdog.org – Indigenous Watchdog: disability prevalence among First Nations, Métis and Inuit populations, common disability types and gender differences.

chfa.ca – Canadian Health Food Association: trends emphasising collective wisdom and diversity, equity and inclusion in wellness.

The post Honouring Indigenous Disability Awareness Month appeared first on Canada's Health Magazine.

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