- by Anne Finlay-Stewart, Editor

This is one of my favourite pictures. Three long-time friends from Brownies. All our children. It's from 1992.

All those children are adults now; the parents are all collecting old age pensions. We live all over North America and have done many different things. When they tell me their stories, I believe that this is their reality– their lived experience – even when it is not the same as mine.

Two of the boys in the picture are brothers and two of the girls are sisters – same mother, same father, same community and schools. They are unique individuals, but perhaps the only difference that is visible to you in the picture is the colour of their skin.

They and their uncles and aunts, parents and grandparents before them have education and credentials – a pile of university degrees including PhD, doctor, architect, musician, translator, teacher, engineer. All of them have known that their every day experiences in life have been affected by the colour of their skin.

I am not going to tell any one else's story. It's not my place. No one is asking for your pity or a “tsk tsk”. But I will be damned if I will read one more post that says “I don't see colour” or “there is no white privilege” without speaking.

If you don't see the colour, you don't see the person, or have any sense that their walk through life is not the same as yours. If you don't understand the simple privilege of walking anywhere you want without suspicion, you have not tried to understand that some people never have.  And if that is the case, you will continue to be part of the problem.

I didn't understand any of these things when that picture was taken in 1992. I should have. But it is my responsibility to learn about them now – and act on what I learn - in 2020.