Resilient roots

In 1734, Marie-Joseph Angélique, an enslaved Black woman, was accused of setting fire to her enslaver's home in Montreal, allegedly to escape forced labour. Whether she started the fire remains unclear to this day – she confessed, albeit under torture, and was executed for her supposed crime. Regardless, Angélique’s story symbolizes both the exploitation and racial violence that have deeply influenced the socio-economic realities faced by Black workers in Canada along with the fierce resistance, resilience, and pursuit of justice that have characterized the Black labour experience from the early 20th century to now. 

When we hear triumphant stories of workers successfully unionizing, within these narratives the contributions and struggles of Black workers remain largely invisibilized, buried under the weight of systemic racism and economic exploitation. 

From the early 1600s, European colonizers forcibly brought Black people to North America as enslaved labourers, subjected them to dehumanizing conditions, and stripped them of their basic rights. North America’s economy was built on this forced Black labour and the colonization of Indigenous lands.

Black labour in Canada can be traced back to the 17th century, with the arrival of enslaved Africans in New France (now Quebec). These early Black workers were forced into servitude, their lives and labour commodified by European settlers. 

In the years following the abolition of slavery in the British Empire in 1834, free Black communities began to establish themselves in regions currently known as Nova Scotia and Ontario. These communities were often formed by Black Loyalists who had fled the United States during the American Revolution, only to find that freedom north of the border came with its own set of challenges. Black workers were frequently relegated to the lowest-paying and most menial jobs, with little opportunity for advancement. Despite these obstacles, they persevered, building tight-knit communities that supported one another in the face of systemic racism.

One such community was Africville, a predominantly Black settlement in north Halifax, Nova Scotia, established in the mid-19th century. Residents of Africville worked as labourers, fishers, and domestic workers, often facing harsh working conditions and racial discrimination. Yet Africville thrived as a self-sufficient community with its own schools, churches, and businesses. 

“You weren’t isolated at any time living in Africville. You always felt at home; the doors were always open” says Irvine Carvery, a former resident of Africville, who is quoted in an article by Matthew McRae for the Canadian Museum for Human Rights. 

The residents of Africville, through their labour and solidarity, carved out a space of dignity and autonomy in a society that sought to marginalize them. When Africville was razed in the 1960s by the Halifax city government under the guise of urban renewal, this displaced hundreds of Black families and the communities of care they had created. This act of systemic violence against a Black working-class community mimics the similar razing of other working-class communities that have been integral to Black community building across Canada, such as Vancouver’s Hogan’s Alley.

North America’s first Black union

Hogan’s Alley was Vancouver’s lively Black community located in Strathcona. It was also one of the places from which the Pullman Palace Car Company recruited porters, along with other established Black communities such as Africville, Montreal’s Little Burgundy, and the Bathurst and Bloor areas of Toronto.

The first Black union in North America, the OSCP was not just a labour union; it was a political movement that sought to dismantle the structures of white supremacy that permeated Canadian society.

In the early 1900s, Canada’s economy was growing, driven by the expansion of the railway. Pullman’s sleeper cars became popular in the U.S. and Canada and were known for luxurious comfort and service. Black men were employed as sleeping car porters in Canada from the late 19th century until the mid‐1950s.

The lived reality of Black sleeping car porters was gruelling: being on call for 72-hour journeys with meagre pay and no sleeping quarters. Although at the time there were widespread public campaigns against Black immigration, and Canada’s Alien Labour Act banned unlicensed agents or companies from contracting foreigners, railway companies in Canada regularly violated these regulations by luring Southern Black Americans and Caribbean workers for cheaper labour.

Describing his late uncle Lee Williams’ – one of the original leaders in the fight for Black railway worker rights – experiences as a railway porter, CUPE Local 15 president Warren Williams told the On the Line podcast, “[W]hat they had on each car was called a jump seat and it was about just wide enough for you to sit on. [...] So basically, you slept in that seat... You didn't have the dignity of having a [proper] place to sleep. And of course, you know, like you're cleaning up people's messes 24/7. Yeah. Any time of day or night at their beck and call, absolutely. And you better be polite. You better be courteous. You better be smiling.” 

After being refused membership in the white Canadian Brotherhood of Railway Employees (CBRE) union, Black porters, tired of the oppressive working conditions, founded the Order of Sleeping Car Porters (OSCP) in 1917. The first Black union in North America, the OSCP was not just a labour union; it was a political movement that sought to dismantle the structures of white supremacy that permeated Canadian society. 

The OSCP played a significant role in the 1919 Winnipeg General Strike, despite being sidelined in its retellings. In a gesture of solidarity, the OSCP joined the strike in support of all railroad workers and contributed $50 (worth about $809 today) to the general strike fund. 

Under the leadership of people like John Arthur Robinson, J.W. Barber, B.F. Jones and P. White., the OSCP fought tirelessly for better wages, improved working conditions, and the right to be treated with dignity and respect. The OSCP negotiated contracts for workers of all racial backgrounds on the Canadian Northern and Grand Trunk Railways in less than two years from its establishment. Their struggle was not just against railway companies, but also against the hypocrisy of white labour unions that preached class solidarity but barred Black workers from joining. The CBRE eventually voted in 1919 to get rid of their whites-only clause for membership, though Black members were only included as auxiliary members and still excluded from promotion. 

Immigration policies were based on pervasive racial stereotypes about Afro-Caribbean women, who were presented as docile and innately good with children, perpetuating tropes stemming from the “mammy” or “Aunt Jemima” caricatures dating back to slavery.

Though they had successfully organized themselves and gained the support of Winnipeg General Strike leaders, dozens of porters suspected of union activities were fired for participating in the Winnipeg General Strike. These mass firings quelled unionizing efforts for more than a decade, until support from the U.S.‐based Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters in 1939 bolstered the fight for more rights. 

The West Indian Domestic Scheme 

Black workers’ unionization efforts were not limited to the railway industry. The West Indian Domestic Scheme, initiated in the 1950s and ’60s, was an immigration program designed to recruit women from the Caribbean, particularly from Jamaica, Barbados, and Trinidad, to work as domestic workers in Canadian households. The demand for domestic workers grew as more white women entered the workforce outside of the home after the Second World War.

Under the program, approximately 3,000 Caribbean women were granted temporary work permits, with the promise of landed immigrant status after a year of satisfactory service. To be eligible, women had to be between 18 and 35, single, child-free, and have, at minimum, an eighth grade education. Many women who applied were highly skilled and educated. While the scheme provided an immigration pathway, tying their legal status to their employment made it deeply exploitative. Immigration authorities created loopholes and barriers that made deportation far more likely than gaining citizenship. Many domestic workers were subject to meagre wages, sexual abuse, and strict control from employers. Many faced racial discrimination, poor working conditions, and barriers to economic stability.

Immigration policies were based on pervasive racial stereotypes about Afro-Caribbean women, who were presented as docile and innately good with children, perpetuating tropes stemming from the “mammy” or “Aunt Jemima” caricatures dating back to slavery. As Caribbean women who arrived quickly recognized the need for collective support, they began to join networks and associations such as the International Coalition to End Domestics’ Exploitation (INTERCEDE). Their increased advocacy and organizing activities led Canadians to label these Black women as “difficult, aggressive and selfish.” These networks and organizations served multiple purposes: they provided mutual aid and offered platforms for sharing experiences and collectively voicing their concerns about working conditions, wages, and their overall treatment. 

Instead of redressing the harsh and dangerous conditions of domestic workers, the government chose to halt the West Indian Domestic Scheme entirely in 1967 and established a new points-based immigration program. The West Indian Domestic Scheme served as the base on which Canada created future foreign-labour policies that relied on short-term visas, such as the Foreign Domestic Movement Program and Live-in Caregiver Program. The scheme set a precedent which reinforced Canada’s treatment of Black women and people from the Global South as expendable. 

From the Black porters to the Nova Scotia Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NSAACP) – which formed in 1945 and advocated for the Children's Hospital in Halifax to hire Black nurses, along with bringing Viola Desmond’s case to the Supreme Court of Canada – to communities like Africville, Black people have always found ways to fight racial discrimination. 

The Coalition of Black Trade Unionists

This fight is far from over today with Black workers in Canada continuing to face the legacies of deeply ingrained racist policies. 

Founded in 1972, the Coalition of Black Trade Unionists (CBTU) is a prominent North American organization established in response to the systemic exclusion and marginalization of Black workers from leadership roles within traditional labour unions. In Canada, the CBTU Ontario chapter has played a crucial role in organizing Black workers and advocating for policies that address racial disparities in the workplace. The CBTU organizes around a wide range of issues, including wage inequality, workplace discrimination, and the need for equitable access to job opportunities. CBTU Ontario garnered crucial support from allied trade unions during the 2020 wave of the Black Lives Matter movement, taking a holistic approach to the health and safety of Black workers. The CBTU also works to educate and empower Black workers to take on leadership roles within their unions, ensuring that their voices are heard at all levels of decision making. 

Class action and the fight for justice

One of the most significant recent developments in this ongoing fight for labour rights is the class-action lawsuit launched by Black federal employees against the Canadian government. According to Black Class Action, “The lawsuit is seeking long-term solutions to permanently address systemic racism and discrimination in the Public Service of Canada.” 

In August 2024, CBTU president Yolanda McClean demanded accountability: “It is shameful that this government has yet to settle the Black Class Action lawsuit. We will continue to fight for employment equity in the workplace, recognition of Black workers in the legislation and an end to discrimination and racism in all its forms, today and everyday.” 

The lawsuit, filed in 2020, alleges that the Canadian government has engaged in systemic discrimination against Black employees for decades. It claims that Black people have been denied entry due to their race, and those employed are consistently passed over for promotions, subject to racial harassment, and paid less than their non-Black counterparts. The lawsuit seeks compensation of $2.5 billion for the harm suffered by these workers costing “lost salaries and pensions of Black employees and job applicants across 99 government departments and agencies dating back to 1970.” The government sought to dismiss the case in 2022, but it proceeded. In September 2022, delays led the plaintiffs to elevate their concerns to the United Nations, accusing Canada of stalling tactics​. Negotiations continued in 2023, with emotional tolls mounting among plaintiffs. The latest development in this four-year legal battle concluded on November 13, 2024 as hearings to determine whether the case will be certified as a class-action lawsuit ended. As Briarpatch went to press on December 11, 2024, a decision had not yet been released. A two-year study published in November 2024, commissioned by the Black Executives Network, shows in detail the level of hostility faced by Black executives in the federal public service. The report states that about one third of the 73 Black executives interviewed report being punished more severely, and bureaucratic processes being weaponized against them as an intimidation tactic. 

In August 2024, CBTU president Yolanda McClean demanded accountability: “It is shameful that this government has yet to settle the Black Class Action lawsuit. We will continue to fight for employment equity in the workplace, recognition of Black workers in the legislation and an end to discrimination and racism in all its forms, today and everyday.” 

Exploitation of migrant farm workers

While no longer solely a Black labour issue, Canada’s Seasonal Agricultural Worker Program (SAWP), an exploitative farm work program, is widely considered to be a glaring example of modern-day slavery, and cannot be separated from Canada’s histories of dispossession and displacement. The SAWP, originally enacted as a partnership between the Canadian and Jamaican governments, has since expanded to other parts of the Caribbean, along with parts of South East Asia and Latin America. 

The workers who partake in this program are essential to Canada’s agricultural industry, picking the fruits and vegetables that end up on Canadian tables, yet are treated as disposable. They are subjected to low wages, long hours in often dangerous conditions, and have little to no access to health care or other basic rights. Their work permits are tied to their employers, meaning that if they speak out against exploitation or abuse, they risk losing their jobs. 

According to a 2022 CBC article, “Jamaican migrant farm workers in [the] Niagara Region wrote an open letter to Jamaica's Ministry of Labour requesting more support in the face of what they call ‘systematic slavery,’ days before a migrant worker died in Norfolk County.” The workers' open letter stated, “As it currently stands, the Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program (SAWP) is systematic slavery." Despite the vital role they play in the Canadian economy, Caribbean and other migrant workers are systematically dehumanized and denied their basic rights. 

The core of labour advocacy is improving material conditions, whether advocating for housing security or for closing the racialized and gendered pay gap. 

But just as in the past, these workers are not passive victims. They are organizing and fighting back. In 2023, a Guatemalan worker, Byron Alfredo Acevedo Tobar, launched a half-billion dollar class-action lawsuit against Canada’s closed permit program for violating the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Advocacy groups like the Migrant Workers Alliance for Change are working to expose the injustices of the SAWP and demand better conditions for migrant workers. They are pushing for reforms that would grant these workers the same rights as Canadian citizens, including the right to permanent residency, freedom of movement, access to health care, and protection from exploitation.

Supporting Black labour now and moving forward 

Despite the progress made over the years, Black workers in Canada continue to face significant challenges in the labour market due to anti-Black racism defined by the Black Health Alliance as “policies and practices rooted in Canadian institutions such as, education, health care, and justice that mirror and reinforce beliefs, attitudes, prejudice, stereotyping and/or discrimination towards people of Black-African descent.” This definition acknowledges the unique systemic hardships imposed on Black people in Canada as the legacy of colonization and slavery: wage disparities, higher unemployment rates, and persistent discrimination in hiring and promotion practices. Black workers are often concentrated in low-wage, precarious jobs with limited benefits and job security. 

The Black labour experience also varies; a Black Muslim woman who wears a hijab will have a vastly different employment experience than a non-Muslim Black man as she navigates intersections of racism, misogyny, and Islamophobia. The core of labour advocacy is improving material conditions, whether advocating for housing security or for closing the racialized and gendered pay gap. 

Ultimately, the fight for Black labour rights in Canada is far from over. While there have been significant victories, much work remains to ensure all Black workers have equal access to workplace opportunities and are treated with dignity and respect.  As Christopher Wilson, a community organizer, lawyer, and CBTU international executive board member states to Our Times, "There are many links between the Black liberation struggle and the class struggle. Canada's labour movement can play a key role in making those links."