Investigators typically follow the same process in every investigation. We gather evidence, usually through interviews, we use that evidence to make factual findings, and we analyse those findings to determine whether a breach of policy has occurred.
I was not shocked when I read a recent newspaper article that said, “Black student allegedly locked in a room at an elementary school.” For those reading this blog, you are probably wondering why. Simple answer: this was not the first time I heard about such a concerning story.
Followers of U.S. politics may be paying attention to the ongoing efforts on the part of Florida’s governor to crack down on what he and other conservative politicians view as the “liberal bias” in universities and colleges.
If you are an investigator like me, you may have noticed the term “white fragility” has emerged in some of your cases, especially when the investigation involves claims of race-based harassment and/or discrimination. This may be as part of a complainant’s allegation, as in the respondent engaged in “white fragility,” or as part of a respondent’s response, as in “this is not a case of ‘white fragility’.” The concept has sparked much debate, as not everyone agrees with it.
Growing up as a young Black girl in a predominately White town, I always wore what we call in the Black communities a “protective hair style.” Specifically, I grew up wearing the single braid hairstyle to protect my hair from breakage caused by Old Man Winter.
In the summer of 2020, there was an incident involving a City of Toronto Municipal Standards Officer, Michael Rushton, and two Black women, Eva Amo-Mensah and Deborah Ampong (the “complainants”).
Like many of you, over the last couple of years, I have been hearing the buzz around the ban of the now controversial critical race theory (CRT) from some of our neighbours south of the border.