There was a time, not that long ago, when I couldn’t have imagined being this open about my queerness. Not at work, and definitely not on LinkedIn. Not in any space that felt remotely “professional.”
But over the past 10 years at Environics Research, I’ve been incredibly fortunate to work in an environment where I’ve felt supported through every step of my coming out journey. That kind of support has been transformational. And now, in a more senior role, I’ve come to see that visibility isn’t just a personal milestone. It’s also a responsibility.
What once felt like a risk, I now recognize as both a gift and a privilege. A privilege because I have the safety, support, and platform that many still don’t. And a gift to myself, to the younger version of me who couldn’t imagine a future like this, and to every queer person who wonders if there’s space for them in this field.
Creating space for other queer people in research, insights, and strategy is something I care about deeply. That’s why I choose to be visible: to show that there is room, that we belong here. More than that, I’m committed to helping create even more space, so that no one feels they have to choose between being themselves and being successful.
Why Queer People Make Powerful Researchers
Queer people are often shaped by lived experience to notice what isn’t being said. We read between the lines. We understand how context, power, and identity shape experience. We know how to hold space for discomfort, contradiction, and transformation—because we’ve lived it.
We ask different questions because we’ve spent time at the margins. We build trust with care because we’ve learned that trust doesn’t always come easily. We champion complexity because our lives don’t fit into neat categories. And in a world that increasingly demands nuance, empathy, and cultural fluency, those are exactly the qualities that make research meaningful and actionable.
Representation Is Not a Checkbox. It’s an Asset.
I’m proud to serve on the Canadian Research Insights Council (CRIC) Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion subcommittee, which reports to the Board of Directors and is committed to building a research industry that reflects the full diversity of Canada. That includes racial, gender, ethnic, and queer diversity – and more.
We’re not doing this work because DEI is trendy. We’re doing it because it’s essential to the future of research. Canada is a mosaic of identities, perspectives, and lived experiences. If our industry doesn’t reflect that; in who we hire, promote, and listen to, our work will fall short of being truly relevant, rigorous, and impactful.
As a queer, racialized, first-generation Canadian, I understand how identity shapes how we see the world. But representation isn’t just about being visible. It’s about being valued, heard, and given space to lead. When diverse voices are included at every stage of the research process, we ask better questions, uncover new insights, and surface ideas that might otherwise be missed.
Great research doesn’t just mirror demographics. It reflects real-life experience, values, and complexity. It challenges assumptions and makes space for nuance. These qualities often come from people who’ve had to navigate systems that weren’t built for them.
When I work on a project, I don’t just bring insights about 2SLGBTQ+ communities. I bring emotional intelligence, creativity, and cultural fluency – skills that strengthen work across healthcare, finance, public policy, or brand strategy. My identity doesn’t limit what I bring to the table. It enriches it.
We need more people in this field who reflect the richness of our society, and more leaders who understand why that matters. Representation isn’t an add-on. It’s how we do better work. It’s how we drive meaningful change. And it’s how we build a research industry that serves everyone.
When Who You Are Shapes How You Work
One of the things I’m most proud of is how my identity shapes my approach. It influences not just who I represent, but how I think, how I build trust, and how I hold space for complexity. Whether I’m guiding clients through strategy, collaborating with community partners, or designing research from the ground up, I bring a lens shaped by lived experience, critical thinking, and empathy.
I think differently. I ask different questions. I notice what others might overlook.
Clients often tell me they feel more confident in their decisions because we’re not just analyzing data. We’re building connections, earning trust, and translating nuance into action. That’s the kind of work I want to keep doing – work that reflects humanity in all its messiness, beauty, and brilliance.
So, Where Do We Go From Here?
If you’re a research leader, hire more queer, racialized, and underrepresented thinkers. Not because it looks good, but because it makes the work better.
If you’re an emerging researcher wondering whether there’s space for you; there is. And if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Representation isn’t just about being seen. It’s also about reaching back and helping others feel seen too.
And if you’re just starting to explore how diversity shapes insight, start now. Ask deeper questions. Seek out voices you haven’t heard before. The future of research depends on it.
Because in the end, representation isn’t a checkbox. It’s a commitment. It’s a responsibility. And more than anything, it’s a gift; one I hope to keep giving.
