It’s no secret that equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) training at U of T Law is below-par. From surface level sessions with boilerplate talking points to trauma-dumping from speakers, EDI training seemed to exist to just tick the box, rather than push for any real reflection. But recently, just as we thought EDI training could not get any worse, we realized how we apparently should have been thankful that at least our EDI training wasn’t blatantly racist.
On January 23, the Assistant Dean, EDI, Ada Maxwell-Alleyne assigned a Coursera course on antisemitism. One would think such training would cover pertinent issues regarding antisemitism in the modern world. Instead, it was to our shock that the course disseminated to all 1L students included copious amounts of hateful Islamophobic and anti-Arab racism. In fact, it included an entire module on “Islam and the Arab World” to discuss in depth the authors’ contempt towards Islam, Muslims, and Arabs. The course used sacred religious texts, stereotypes, and other propaganda to describe us as terroristic, unaware of social equality, and unable to co-exist with other faiths. Amongst others, one line that embodies the sentiments throughout the module thoughtfully stated: “Not every Islamist is a terrorist. The distinction with regard to antisemitism between violent and nonviolent Islamists is not pertinent, because both the Islamists who are peaceful and those like Al-Qaeda and ISIS, who are violent, they share the same antisemitism. I see little difference in this regard.”
The dissemination of this content was especially disturbing given its timing during the Green Square Campaign against islamophobia, which commemorates the Quebec Mosque Shooting. January 29—designated as the National Day of Remembrance and Action Against Islamophobia—marks the anniversary of the tragic attack at the Islamic Cultural Centre of Quebec City where a gunman opened fire on congregants, murdering six Muslims in prayer. This heinous act of terrorism, fueled by Islamophobic vitriol, serves as a solemn reminder that prejudice exists within our communities and country. This year, in the days surrounding January 29, Muslim students at U of T Law were given a rude awakening and a stark reminder that our school is no different.
Hurt, yet perhaps not surprised, Muslim law students worked for a path forward. We stayed up night after night reviewing the content, gathering evidence, sacrificing our own mental health to create a response to the law school Administration. It was by no means easy work as we would face some of the most deeply islamophobic content many of us have encountered in our lives. Nevertheless, we wrote a statement through the Muslim Law Students Association (MLSA), bringing the problem to the attention of Dean Jutta Brunnée and the rest of Administration (including the Assistant Deans, Associate Dean, and Assistant Dean Maxwell-Alleyne herself). Despite all of our work, we were given a response essentially stating ‘sorry you felt that way’ and told that they assigned only the first, less islamophobic, carefully selected module. But it does not take a law student to understand that if any part of an “EDI course” is racist or Islamophobic, then the entire course is problematic.
The feeling of rejection and confusion was palpable. It became clear to us that our voice as Muslim students alone would not be enough. Accordingly, the MLSA began contacting other groups to create a second statement to respond. This effort was not without pushback from students, fellow classmates, who were nervous to associate themselves with any statement. Nevertheless, the statement, with the brave support of the the Student Law Society (SLS), THE University of Toronto Law Students’ Union (UTLU), the Black Law Students’ Association (BLSA), the Disabled Law Students’ Association (DLSA), and co-Presidents of various other equity groups including the Jewish Law Students’ Association (JLSA), reiterated that it was no excuse that the other modules in question had not been assigned. Together, we demanded acknowledgment, accountability, and a public apology. Instead, Administration scheduled a closed-door meeting.
To say that this meeting was a failure is generous. Members of the MLSA and SLS sat across all of the Deans in a private “discussion”—ironically, nothing was discussed. We shared our concerns with Administration, describing the isolation and fear Muslim students were feeling. We hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, and that with conversation, there could be some positive way forward. Dean Brunnée began with her sadness over the situation and a desire for a collaboration, which sounded promising at first. Yet, when pushed to acknowledge that the course was inappropriate and islamophobic, and to give the students some guidance on their next steps, Dean Brunnée shut her notes, looked us straight in the eye, and said that there is nothing else to discuss—effectively and abruptly ending the supposed “conversation” with an Administration that was “committed to engaging in dialogue”. As we left the room, we realized that the very Administration we had entrusted to put students first and protect our interests was now the one pushing us further away and leaving our calls for help unanswered.
An unsatisfying meeting led to an unsatisfying solution. After this encounter, 1L students received an email from Assistant Dean Maxwell-Alleyne. While the email took a step towards at least attempting to address the issue, it fell short in key respects. In it, Administration relayed that it was troubled by the feedback they received on the unassigned modules, that they were taking it seriously and reaching out to the course provider to relay concerns. The Administration seemed to “unassign” all modules of the course (well after the course’s deadline), and indicated that it would put the EDI series on pause (we’re still not sure how delaying anti-islamophobia training helps deal with islamophobic training sent out). However, yet again, the school stopped short of an adequate public apology or any accountability. While they expressed “sincere regret” about the “unintentional harm” that resulted from the “situation,” they did nothing to acknowledge their failure to adequately vet the materials that they hold out as an authority to students. Further, despite this issue being made known to the broader student and Muslims community and commented on by student groups, this email was only sent to 1L students, with nothing relayed to anyone else.
Anyone at this school can see that U of T Law lacks diversity. This only makes it even more imperative when Administration promotes blatantly racist and Islamophobic courses for EDI, that they retract and apologize immediately. However, our Administration refused to take the Muslim students at the school seriously. It was only after weeks of pushing from the students, alumni, and other invested organizations that there has been any response (and a horrendously minimal one at that).
Islamophobia and anti-Arab racism is hatred that kills. From Guantanamo Bay to Iraq to Gaza, these forms of xenophobia are the same tool used to justify violence time and time again. Many of us have grown up in a post-9/11 era. It was this era that motivated us to come to law school, these very experiences that some of us wrote about in our law school personal statements and hoped to change. We have seen how demonization has led to devastating consequences in the past, and it is exactly why it was so hurtful to see a revisiting and revitalizing of the notion of collective responsibility and guilt amongst the Muslim community.
What we requested was not that onerous, and certainly not for a law school of the self-proclaimed calibre of U of T law. In addition to substantive steps, we simply wanted an apology. We wanted someone, anyone, to say “this was islamophobic and unacceptable, and it was our fault, we are sorry.” Not “we acknowledge that some community members were disappointed,” not “this feedback is troubling” and certainly not “we regret the unintentional harm this situation resulted in.” Not once in the email communications between Administration and affected students was the word ‘sorry’ ever used. The fact remains that this “situation” did not appear out of thin air. It was the result of decisions made by individuals. Therefore, it is this very refusal to take real accountability and acknowledge that this harm was the result of actual tangible actions and decisions, and genuinely apologize, which is most troubling to us. Why can’t anyone just say sorry?
Perhaps it is fear. Fear that to say sorry acknowledges wrongdoing. Fear of acknowledging that just because harm was unintentional, that doesn’t mean it was non-negligent. Fear of taking a strong stance, because strong stances open oneself up to pushback or consequences. And perhaps that latter fear is one that goes far beyond just the Administration. The fear that resides in members of the law school community more generally, a fear that taking a stance, showing too much support for one “side” or another may make you less hireable. The fear that makes students and student groups hesitant about speaking out on our behalf or reiterating our demands.
However, let us be clear and unequivocal. This issue is not, and should not be controversial. The issue is solely whether it is appropriate for a law school to hold out as an authority course materials which suggest that Muslim and Arab individuals are inherently regressive and followers of a religion antithetical to equality. The answer to that question should be obvious to every member of our law school community. We cannot continue to allow the reasonable fears, concerns and requests of Muslim students to be sacrificed at the constructed altar of being “non-controversial”.
But after everything—this moment and the past year—we urge our peers to ask themselves: Do you believe you are smart and capable enough to make something of yourself? And if so, why do you think speaking out on injustice jeopardizes that?
Why assume that standing for what is right undermines your merit in corporate spaces? Why accept the idea that advocacy and ambition cannot coexist? A law degree from this institution is a privilege, but its value is not diminished by using it to demand better. If anything, it is strengthened. The real question is not whether speaking up will cost you opportunities—but why a profession built on justice would ever demand your silence.