Let’s take you back to where it all started. It was December 7, 2023, and the annual Sackvegas event was in full swing. However, unknowingly as the night’s events were unfolding, a heinous crime of vandalism was taking place right underneath the same roof. Now, as I am writing this, you may be asking yourself: What happened to the culprits? Was justice served? Have we learned anything? Well, as much as we should have answers to these questions, sadly, we are left with more questions than answers.
Let’s face it—racism still exists in 2025. As much as people and multinational companies rode the diversity train of Black Lives Matter with their virtue-signaling #BlackoutTuesday…oh, you remember those, don’t you? The millions of black screen Instagram posts riding off the clickbait wave that shocked the world during the post-George Floyd-era that glued everybody to their screens during quarantine. The less said about that debacle, the better. But looking back more than a year later, the biggest question I want to answer is: Has anything really changed?
Put bluntly, no. The world still spins, the sky is still blue, and oh yeah… wait. A number of Black staff members working at Mt. A who advocated for change went on to pursue other ventures—I am talking about Danai Bélanger and Lucy Ofori for those who do not know—so you can bid a huge bon voyage to Black representation. What about the advocacy group that was meant to be championed by the past president, Dr. Robert MacKinnon? Well, he left a few months after the incident. Although there is now a Mt. A Case Team that deals with acts of racism on campus, the tangible impact of this group has yet to be felt by many students.
When asked about revisions to university policies to address hate speech and vandalism, Mt. A responded that “The Anti-Racism Education and Response Team (ARERT) has been meeting regularly this year to review Policy 1010, the Anti-Racism Education and Response Policy and Procedures. Originally created in 2017, this policy is now undergoing a comprehensive review with an intersectional lens. One of the key recommendations is to provide clearer definitions of what constitutes racism and racial harassment on campus in addition to proposed ways of addressing these types of incidents.”
It is only as I began writing this article that I learned about the existence of ARERT. While it is reassuring to know that policies are under review, one has to wonder: why did it take such a shocking event to spur this activity? And why does this work feel so far removed from the everyday realities faced by students of color?
A Year Later: The Fallout
In the year following the vandalism of the Black Resource and Information Centre (BRIC), the sense of safety and belonging for Black students has been deeply shaken. What should have been a space of comfort and community,a safe haven,has instead become a symbol of the persistent resistance against inclusivity and equity. Many students of color now admit they feel uneasy about entering the space, worried about what might happen next or how their presence might be perceived. Who could forget about the infamous video of former vice-president, international and student affairs Anne Comfort breaking the news to the Mt. A community. The air was filled with confusion, frustration and hopelessness.
This unease is further compounded by the lack of accountability. To this day, there has been no tangible apprehension of the culprits behind the vandalism. The absence of justice sends a clear message: acts of hate can go unpunished. This realization has only heightened feelings of vulnerability among BIPOC students and staff.
The vandalism was not an isolated incident, It was a stark reminder of the pushback that often accompanies efforts to carve out spaces for marginalized groups. The existence of the BRIC itself, as a space dedicated to supporting Black students, was likely viewed by some as a challenge to the status quo. Instead of fostering understanding and allyship, it became a target.
Performative Activism vs. Real Change
Looking back, it is hard not to feel disillusioned by the hollow promises and surface-level gestures of solidarity that followed the incident. Statements were issued, and meetings were held, but what concrete steps have been taken to ensure such an incident does not happen again? Mt. A’s responses have often felt reactive rather than proactive—a band-aid on a wound that requires deeper healing.
The Black Students Union (BSU) captured this frustration perfectly in their statement, which called out the University’s failure to provide the details necessary to assess the situation and their lack of a trauma-informed response. The BSU urged students to educate themselves about the harmful effects of over-policing and performative activism, highlighting the gap between words and actions.
Moving Forward
The question now is how Mt. A can move beyond words to create meaningful change. It is clear that policies alone are not enough; the university must actively work to rebuild trust with its Black students and staff. This means addressing the systemic issues that allowed the vandalism to happen in the first place, providing adequate resources for mental health and community support, and fostering a culture where hate is unequivocally condemned.
In recent months, there have been small but encouraging signs of progress. The ARERT’s review of Policy 1010 is a step in the right direction, and the University has pledged to increase anti-racism training for faculty and staff. These initiatives are promising, but they must be met with accountability and transparency to have a lasting impact. It is crucial that the administration remains open to listening to the lived experiences of BIPOC students and takes their feedback seriously.
That said, the fight against racism is far from over. Whether through overt acts like vandalism or subtler forms like microaggressions, racism continues to permeate the campus environment. It is the responsibility of everyone, students, staff, and administration,to confront and dismantle these harmful dynamics. Only then can Mt. A truly become a place where all students feel safe, valued, and supported.
For now, the BRIC stands as both a sanctuary and a symbol of resistance—a testament to the resilience of Black students in the face of adversity and a reminder that the journey toward equity and inclusion is ongoing.
