By Noha Haydari
Attending the Canadian Black Summit was a truly empowering experience that offered me a new perspective on what it means to occupy space authentically. As a racialized woman, I’ve often felt the pressure to adjust my behavior, language, and even demeanor when navigating predominantly white environments. In many settings, there’s an unspoken expectation that I will code-switch — that I will mold myself to fit a norm that wasn’t built with me in mind. But at the summit, something remarkable happened: I didn’t feel the need to do so. For the first time, I was in a space where I could simply be myself, without feeling the weight of modifying my identity to meet someone else’s expectations.
As a racialized woman, the act of code-switching can be an exhausting survival strategy. Whether it’s adjusting my speech to sound “more professional” or toning down aspects of my culture and personality that might be seen as “too much” or “too different,” it takes a mental and emotional toll. Yet, at the Canadian Black Summit, there was a shared understanding that allowed me to relax. I was surrounded by people who shared similar experiences and histories, and in that shared space, I didn’t have to shrink or adjust in any way. I was free to express myself authentically, without fear of being judged or misunderstood.
Another observation stood out to me during the summit — the absence of the usual “scent-free zone” policy that is often enforced in many union and work spaces. While these policies are typically put in place to accommodate individuals with sensitivities to fragrances, they can also unintentionally create an atmosphere where cultural practices are subtly policed. For many racialized communities, including mine, certain scents — from oils to perfumes to traditional remedies — are a part of our identity and cultural expression. In other spaces, these elements are often seen as a disruption, as if our choices are something that must be contained or altered to fit within a Euro-dominated standard.
At the summit, there was no scent-free zone, and no one complained about it; even though there were over 2000 attendees. The absence of such a policy was a quiet yet powerful statement about what it means to create a truly inclusive environment. It was a space where the focus wasn’t on regulating the behaviors of others to make them fit into a specific mold, but on creating an environment that allowed us to express ourselves in the fullness of our identities. For once, I didn’t feel the need to apologize for the way my cultural practices or identity might be perceived by others. It was a space that allowed me to breathe and exist as I am.
But again, what shocked me, was the lack of complaints about the absence of the scent-free zone. I myself have a severe scent sensitivity and this has only doubled since I have became pregnant. But the moderation of scents did not harm me in the least. In many unions and work spaces, this kind of policy is often framed as a necessary accommodation for “sensitive” individuals, but it can feel like an underlying attempt to control the presence of racialized and marginalized people. It is as if our very existence — the foods we cook, the scents we wear, the way we speak — is something that needs to be adjusted or erased to avoid discomfort. At the summit, I didn’t experience this pressure. Instead, I witnessed a collective understanding that it was okay to occupy space as we were, without constantly making ourselves palatable for others.
This experience reaffirmed the power of creating spaces where marginalized people, especially racialized individuals, can exist without the need for constant modification. The summit was a place where cultural diversity was not just tolerated, but celebrated. It made me realize that true inclusivity isn’t about making everyone conform to a set of rules or norms; it’s about allowing people to bring their full selves into the space — to be seen, heard, and respected without needing to filter or alter who they are.
As we move forward in the conversation about inclusivity, it’s important to examine policies and norms that may disproportionately affect marginalized groups. The lack of a scent-free zone wasn’t just about fragrance or feeling the need to code-switch; it was about a broader principle of respect and understanding. It was a reminder that we don’t have to hide or change ourselves to fit into someone else’s idea of comfort or respectability. It is in these kinds of spaces — where the focus is on mutual respect, cultural expression, and authentic presence — that real change can begin. The summit showed me that when we allow people to exist fully in who they are, we not only uplift individuals, but we also create communities that are more whole, inclusive, and transformative.
The Canadian Black Summit was not only a powerful and affirming experience but also a great start to Black History Month. It served as a reminder of the importance of creating spaces where racialized individuals can be their authentic selves without fear of judgment or the need to conform. I truly hope that those who attended from the Union of National Employees were inspired by the experience — to reflect on how they can create more inclusive environments in their own spaces and organizations. This summit wasn’t just about celebrating our identity; it was about empowering each other to be bold, to be unapologetically ourselves, and to continue pushing for a world where we all belong.
Noha Haydari is the UNE Regional Human Rights Representative for Outside Canada.
“I want to thank Noha for sharing her experience with us and for highlighting such important topics. Her words offer us all a valuable opportunity to reflect on how we coexist in shared spaces. As we know, our spaces are designated scent-free to accommodate those who may be affected for health reasons. At the same time, I encourage everyone to continue deepening our understanding of how dominant cultural norms shape our interactions and environments.”
– Alisha Kang, National President, Union of National Employees