Today, I am celebrating a very incredible human being: my mother, Joy Neff. She is a resilient role model who handles adversity in a way that I can only wish and attempt to emulate. She was a pillar of security in my childhood when health scares, seizures, and doctor’s appointments were plentiful for my sister, Jenna. Somehow, my mum always found the strength to be the comfort and security for a whole family. What makes that doubly impressive is the way she would work night shifts at the hospital to provide for us at the same time. Imagine spending that much time and energy to make institutional spaces feel safe and comforting, not only for your family, but for strangers on the regular. My mum worked in a maternity ward at BC Women’s Hospital (she is retired now) which was focused on helping compromised and at-risk patients who called the Downtown Eastside (DTES) home. It was hard, involved work. Her actions instilled an outlook in me that deeply informed my own career—even leading to work in the Downtown Eastside at Save On Meats. I’m so grateful for the genuine bonds she created within the community of the DTES and the honesty and vulnerability that showed up together in the conversations she had. I knew I would find good company in my role in the DTES because of the stories my mum shared as I grew up. I deeply value the perspective and understanding gained in togetherness during that time in my life. I thank my mum for setting me on that path. Whether it was for people facing poverty and mental health challenges, or other parents feeling lost as they navigate the challenges of caring for a child with disabilities, my mum has always been able to hold space and see those who feel unseen by the rest of society.
You would think that holding space for so many people as they navigate hardship would weigh on a person and impact their attitude—maybe resulting in putting up walls around their own feelings; My mum has always had a smile that can light up the darkest room and a positive attitude that is infectious, but she has also never been afraid to cry in front of us when she needed to and that has been a crucial life lesson for me in itself. No matter what was going on with the family or at work, my mum could always initiate a kitchen dance party. My favourite memories I share with my mum are dancing in the kitchen to Johnny Nash’s I Can See Clearly Now. I reflect on that song and the meaning behind it and it represents the energy of my mum through and through: identifying the obstacles ahead and behind and celebrating the bright, sunshiny day regardless. I truly hope she knows that she has been the bright light making those sunny days for so many people. I am the person I am because I was raised by her and I am so proud of the elements of her that I carry forward, myself. I will always consider maternal love to be the most powerful energy in the universe because I have seen, firsthand, the way it transforms lives through my mum.
I’ve embedded I Can See Clearly Now below. Please feel invited to share in a heartfelt kitchen dance and take a moment to think about your maternal figure and the wonderful energy they share with community.
This portrait and accompanying blog post were created with love and consideration on the unceeded territories of the Katzie First Nation and Kwantlen First Nation.