No Longer Even Seeking Pappy’s Approval to Dismantle Social Work’s Rampant White Fuckery

The good news is that I have survived a month without my trauma-informed chiropractor. The bad news is that my Chirp Contour has still not arrived from Michigan, so although February is the shortest month, it felt like the longest, unfortunately. Especially since my period has joined the pain party on the heels of my latest rejection for a much-needed paid opportunity despite calling my application "brilliant," I am reflecting on Social Work Month, which is what March has been considered since 1963.

Seeking Pappy's Approval by Krystal Kavita Jagoo

I worried that Pappy might never understand why I feel the need to dismantle white supremacy with every breath I take. I mean, my grandfather passed away before I turned 10, when we still lived in Trinidad, with its mostly Black and brown population, so I doubted this would have dominated his consciousness like mine. There, he taught me the value of hard work to achieve success, and the need for humility and generosity should that come, as he put himself through school to become the first Trinidadian navigator for the national oil company. I remember him giving back to his village freely and never flaunting his accomplishments. While he had not ever claimed that he pulled himself up by his bootstraps, that was how I had come to think of his story over the years, embodying model minority status in my mind.

As I became increasingly aware of the deeply flawed reality of Canada through my career as a social worker, intent on anti-oppressive practice, I understood the hypocrisy of my field's absence of work explicitly dismantling white supremacy. Especially as a racialized woman, I have a responsibility to disrupt this problematic status quo by challenging colleagues to confront their complicity. As my consciousness developed, I wondered if my grandfather would be proud of me for standing up for these issues in my career, even as it threatens it. When that psychologist in North Bay would email me every single time that he could not locate a book of his, I initially assumed that everyone in our workplace got those annoying messages. Eventually, I realized that they came only to me, and in a meeting, he laughed as he told me that I would not believe that Bev had that book about which he recently emailed me! I clarified that I would have no difficulty believing that as I have never had any of his missing books and compared his assumption that the only racialized member of the team stole his books to the driving while Black phenomenon, for a reference he might grasp! Instead of the accountability I had hoped for, with what I now recognize to be an anti-Black statement, he said that he sometimes searched my office in my absence as he never believed me.

I comforted myself that it would get better when I escaped the north as I applied for jobs in the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) with a fervor that exceeded their white supremacy! After clearing my student debt, I decided that the toll on my emotional wellbeing was worth a ten grand pay cut annually to avoid getting called a  terrorist in Walmart! I accepted a job offer at a medical practice an hour outside of Toronto after 52 long months there, and naively dreamed of greener GTA pastures. Within a year, the facade became apparent as although this organization had co-opted the talk of anti-oppressive practice, their walk was violently white supremacist! As Trump came into power across the border, I was being terrorized by another white man at my job that was far different from the GTA of my dreams! Initially, I focused on the value of my work with patients, but eventually took a medical leave when migraines and sleep issues debilitated me.

Thanks to this white supremacist workplace harassment, I had much more time to reflect about my grandfather and how he would feel about my explicitly anti-racist social work practice, while worrying if I would ever reclaim my hijacked career. Over many long months, I realized that it was I who had put Pappy in that model minority box after his death, as I desperately tried to hold onto the memory of a man who had taken on the status of a legend in my world. Before my grandfather completed the training, our national oil company had only brought white men from England to work as navigators, but he became the first Trinidadian to be employed for Trintoc in that capacity. While Pappy may never have used the words white supremacy once, upon further reflection, it became obvious that we had a shared understanding. Over time, I recognized that my grandfather could never have aspired to occupy that position only before held by British men had he not fundamentally opposed the notion of white supremacy!

Over 2017, I had worked in a paid capacity for under 45 days before being told by an old British woman with only a high school diploma that I did not meet her standards for continuing past probation. Unfortunately, even with a Master's degree in Social Work, and a decade of employment in my field, including clinical, teaching, and writing experience, it turns out I was born with war paint for my very skin. Searching for solace and sustenance, I read over four hundred books from marginalized authors that year, desperately looking for hope. What I found was that racialized folx more brilliant than me had managed to get published, but often died in abject poverty. I also wondered then whether my grandfather could have ever imagined the challenges I would face when he raised me back home with the audacity to have integrity and speak truth to power! Did he anticipate that I would settle on this stolen land full of post-racial myths fuelled by white mediocrity gaslighting, derailing, and silencing me daily?

Given the finality of death, I will never unequivocally know if Pappy would have supported my work to dismantle white supremacy even as it threatens my employability. Obviously, that little girl whose grandfather made her believe  that her brilliance could change the world wants to hold onto that conviction. What I do know though is that I never hesitated to oppose him in childhood when we disagreed, so the emotional safety he provided me then paved the way for my anti-oppressive practice. Maybe Pappy thought I would face less barriers in adulthood because he pictured that I would spend it amongst folx who looked like us back home so it never occurred to him to teach me to be less opinionated to survive white supremacy in Canada.

On my best days, I like to believe that he expected me to end up in this context and believed in my profound ability to disrupt white supremacy! If Pappy showered me with unconditional love even when he ground his teeth, and sighed in frustration with me in childhood, I know he raised me to make decisions that I can stand behind, in his absence. It is his blood that courses through my veins, the man, for whom, our national oil company changed its hiring practices! Should that not be enough to convince me that this foreign land too can evolve in response to my determination? Did Pappy not teach me how to make waves when he took me out in his boat as a little girl? Did I not begin my time here skipping three grades in high school? I hope to remember these answers when next white mediocrity questions my competency in this sorry excuse for what passes for equity in my field. Thankfully, like my grandfather, I too know the value of my contributions even when whiteness undermines my work.

***Please note that the author is no longer a registered social worker, as of 2025, since losing all respect for the Ontario College of Social Workers and Social Service Workers after they failed to even call for a ceasefire despite witnessing intensified Palestinian genocide throughout 2024. After 15 years, and $4,375 in annual fees she could desperately use in the aftermath of ableist white supremacist workplace harassment, gender-based violence (GBV), etc., her name is no longer followed by "RSW." Nonetheless, she retains 15 years of experience in such roles as Therapist, Sessional Faculty, Accessibility Advisor, etc., which still informs her work as an equity practitioner and educator.***

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