Krystal Kavita Jagoo

My art claws its way from the depths of the academic-industrial complex, much like I do, on what feels like every workday. As a brown woman settler on Turtle Island, I remain intent on anti-oppressive practice as a social worker.

I had the privilege of social distancing as I supported distressed students as they navigated changing academic plans during a global pandemic.

During this time, my twice-weekly chiropractic treatment was disrupted for three long months, which deepened my disability justice lens in ways that only pain could.

I held space with BIPOC community virtually to cope with the emotional tolls of uncertainty.

While I do not often think of myself as an artist, I have had to rely on creative solutions for survival in the body that I inhabit.

Sometimes that has looked like reading problematic administration for filth when they attempt to gaslight, silence, and derail me.

At other times, I have made the comparison to faculty that student's health issues, unfortunately, do not adhere to the timeline of their syllabus, much like viruses.

At all times, I am acutely aware of the power differentials that leave women of colour at disproportionate risk when they attempt equity work in highly bureaucratic organizations.

I sustain myself with positive feedback from marginalized folx who express relief when met with rare understanding from a social worker, often because of horror stories mediated by how they have been perceived, with barely any recognition of their humanity by "professionals in higher education".