Ann Lei
“…It was a long, long conversation with them, years-long conversation. I'm smart, I work hard, and you need to trust me. This is the right choice for me. This is the choice that I'm making for myself.”
The pressure to succeed is a near-universal experience for all second-generation immigrants – especially to find a well-paying job within a traditional sector. These preformulated notions become engrained within our memories at birth. As a result, many grow up without ever finding their true passions. However, this week, I had the opportunity to interview Ann Lei, a student at the University of British Columbia, to describe her unconventional journey of becoming an advocate for gender equality.
“I'm a second-generation settler. I'm born to a family of immigrants. My parents are Chinese and, immigrated post the Cultural Revolution in China in the late eighties. I was born here. I was raised in Mississauga, Ontario. I've spent my whole life there.”
“I'm really lucky and fortunate that growing up in Mississauga, it was really diverse and large in terms of, culture, food and language. I always had friends, family and, role models who looked like I did. In many ways, I'm really, really grateful for that because it helped in shaping my cultural racial identity.”
Like many other second-generation immigrants, a well-established community network was crucial to staying connected to our heritages. The neighborhood of family friends, distant relatives, and immigrant peers from similar backgrounds keeps us tied to our cultural roots. But, for many, including myself, we often take these support systems for granted.
“[Growing up] the minority of my friends were white. And I then did my undergraduate at Western University in London, Ontario, which is a predominantly white institution. And, that adjustment into my undergrad at Western was probably one of the most difficult things that I've ever experienced because it was literally a shock. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was not surrounded by people who looked like me or, understood the food, the culture, and the language in the way that I do.”
“This is in 2020, six months after right COVID-19 started. I was living in residence and doing online school. And I was like, this is terrible. I hate this. I remember myself clinging so hard onto the things that reminded me of home. I tried really hard to find really good Asian food in London, Ontario, which was impossible.”
Paradoxically, despite becoming increasingly disconnected from certain aspects of her heritage, other elements still dictated much of her life.
“My parents really wanted me to be an engineer. If not an engineer, a doctor. If not a doctor, then business.”
It's a common sentiment among the Asian-Canadian community. The pressure to excel academically and pursue a job within a traditional field such as law, medicine, or engineering was shaped by much of the experiences and sacrifices of immigrant parents who often lacked stability during their youth.
“Entering university, it was very much shaped by the pressures of what my parents wanted me to do and also, what all my friends were doing. So I thought, I will do something that is business degree adjacent because that seems the most palatable to all of the people around me. And I kind of knew that it was, not the thing that I was the most interested in, but I have always been under the mentality that if I put my mind to it in school, I can succeed in whatever.”
For young immigrants, the desire to succeed becomes a means of honoring their parent's hard work, becoming an obligatory act. Although well-intended, these sentiments often disregard the individual passions of the children – many were never allowed to explore their interests in the first place. But Ann soon discovered her passion that deeply resonated with her identities and experiences – far beyond her parent’s expectations.
“In September of 2021, there were thirty first-year students that got ‘roofied’ inside of the first-year residence at Western. During orientation week. And this made national headlines. There was, a walkout of over 10,000 students at Western.”
The event that Ann described in our conversation referred to numerous allegations of sexual assault that surfaced during Western University’s orientation week, including reports of drugged drinks, a high degree of intoxication of only female students, and sexual assault within the residence dorms.
“I think for me, that was a really huge turning point in terms of, how I understood me, myself and all of my identities. What does it mean for me to be here at a predominantly white institution as a racialized woman In a place that is known for the highest rate of sexual violence and rape culture?”
“What does that mean for me as an Asian woman who represents a community that has one of the highest rates of sexual violence? And all of these questions were swirling in my head. And I didn't have all these answers. It was so hard for me to sit here and do calculus when I was thinking about all of my communities, my parents, and other Asian women around me and what it meant for them to be students and community members at Western. So, that was a tipping point for me. I then, on a whim, decided to take some courses in the Gender Studies department at Western.”
“I absolutely loved it. I felt like that was the first time that I was able to, articulate and put theory and fact to my experiences. These were people who are writing about the things that I was experiencing and learning [in a] way that truly I was able to see myself represented in. And then as as a result, I started getting involved with more of the advocacy piece within student government.”
“I ended up working at Western’s student government for three years. And slowly through that, I gained a better confidence and footing of, like, this is what I want to do.”
During her time with the University Student Council (USC Western Government), Ann worked closely with the Ontario Ministry of Colleges and Universities, advocating for increased funding for Anti-Sexual and Gender-Based Violence Policy (ASGBV) initiatives through the Campus Safety Grant. One of the specific projects that Ann worked on was the “Free the Dot” project, which is USC’s free menstrual product program. “Free the Dot” has partnered with Western’s Facilities Management and Citron Hygiene to install free-vending menstrual product machines in over 150 bathrooms across campus.
“All of the work that I'm doing, all of the work that I'm trying to do, and in progress towards doing has to do with how they got me here, and, the communities that I represent, the communities that I serve, and the communities that my parents and I are a part of. The work I'm doing at the end of the day is for those communities.”
But Ann’s advocacy wasn’t solely focused on gender equality, she also used this opportunity to advocate for her racial and cultural identity.
“There's just an overwhelming rhetoric among policymakers that international students are taking away jobs. During my time at Western, one of the things that we advocated for specifically was [to reduce] the hourly cap that limited international students' working hours while they're in university.”
On April 30th, 2024, the Canadian government reimposed the cap on work hours for international students to 20 hours a week – one that was previously waived during the COVID-19 pandemic.
“And so, in my job working for the USC, we advocated to the federal government to change legislation around international student work hours. And I remember when I was in Ottawa, there was one MP that we met with who literally said, ‘What do I say to my constituents who are saying international students are taking away their children's jobs?’ and, ‘I graduated with a business degree. And even after I graduated, I had a hard time finding a job – and now there's all of these international students who I now have to compete with.’”
“And he said, ‘I'm all good with, immigration and such. Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-immigration, but I just don't think they should be taking our jobs. And he said this to, a group of four students. So we sat there, and we explained them. Well, here's all of the stats and facts on why international students are not taking your jobs.”
Vacancies in sectors such as sales/service, finance, and medicine are significantly disproportionate to pre-pandemic levels – especially healthcare. While native-born Canadians typically pursue degrees in fields such as psychology, computer science, and business, immigrant students disproportionately hold STEM degrees necessary for a career in medicine. In particular, with over 450,000 international students studying, sciences has become one of the most popular fields. While a significant portion of international students also pursue degrees in oversaturated occupations, it becomes evident that the role of student immigrants will be significant in reducing Canada’s current labour shortage.
“Many post-secondary institutions, their funding models are dependent on international student tuition. International student tuition is, five, six, seven times as much as domestic student tuition. At least in Ontario, the provincial government capped domestic student tuition while I was an undergrad, so it could not increase. But because of inflation, they had to increase tuition, and it was always international student tuition. Like, Ivey student tuition at Western is $25,200 per year. International student tuition at Ivey is more than $60,000 per year. “
“I would say finding common ground on why they should care is probably the [most important] thing that I learned. In the experience of that one politician that I was talking about, trying to explain it in a way that says having international students here benefits you in this way. That's how you get advocacy done. [You don’t] go in and say, ‘These are all the reasons why I think I'm right and you're wrong. These are the things that we have in common that we can agree on and that we both know.’”
Since November 8th, 2024, the cap to off-campus work hours was increased to 24 hours per week for those without a work permit – in large part due to Ann’s advocacy work. However, for many students, these amendments still remain insufficient in addressing increased financial barriers and Canada’s rising cost of living.
Despite accomplishing so much, it was still difficult to share her newfound passion for advocacy with her parents.
“It wasn't easy by any means. And I really sympathize with where they come from because I get it. From their perspective, they just want me to be financially stable and have a secure job. And it comes from a place where they didn't have secure jobs when they came. And so, if they didn't have engineering degrees, they wouldn't have been able to have financial security when they first immigrated in the way that I do.”
“But it was a long, long conversation with them, years-long conversation. And it's still an ongoing conversation of just, this is something I want to do. And also, I'm smart, I work hard, and you need to trust me. And when I say that, this is the right choice for me. This is the choice that I'm making for myself.”
“Because my parents are engineers, I think they like to see tangible things that I’ve accomplished. And so it really helps when I can say I got this award, or I got this scholarship. And then they're ‘Oh, okay. Like, we don't really get what she's doing, but other people are saying that she's doing well.’”
Ann is far too humble – she graduated with a Bachelor of Arts finishing top of her class for both Economics and Arts & Humanities at Western. She was a part of their Scholars’ Electives Program, School for Advanced Studies in the Arts and Humanities, and was named to the Dean’s Honour List during all four years of her undergraduate degree. Ann is currently pursuing her Master of Arts at the University of British Columbia, studying gender, race, sexuality, and social justice.
“Being in Vancouver has been fantastic because it's there's so many Asian people here. Even though it’s 3,000 kilometers away, moving here was easier than it was moving to London, Ontario.”
She’s still continuing much of her advocacy efforts as well.
“I'm in a two-year master's program, and I'm starting my own research thesis in a couple months. The end product is going to be my own publication. Broadly speaking, my research looks at how we think about international development and foreign aid in the context of, gender empowerment projects, particularly having to do with sexual violence.”
Towards the end of our conversation, she wanted to emphasize the importance of embracing uncertainty and a potentially non-linear career path. She shared with me a pivotal moment during her youth with Professor Jenny Baechler of Dalhousie University.
“So she gave [a] presentation on design thinking when I was 16, and I remember she came in, and she was like, hey guys, a little bit of background about me.”
“‘I actually have a science degree in marine biology. And then I went and did, like, grad school on peace and conflict studies. And then now I'm at the faculty of management.’ She was she explained how so much about what her life was figuring out what she wanted.’”
“She [told us] your pathway to success or your life does not need to be linear. It's okay if you don't know or you need time to figure things out, or you do different things. And, this was the first time that I had seen or listened to someone who's really successful, a full-time professor, who’s telling me, it's okay to not know or not have a linear career path.”
“She was the first person to tell me that when I was literally 16 and it, blew my mind because I was, like, I didn't know that people did this. I didn't know that people do different things or change their mind.”
