Written by: Tracy Knutson, Network Director 

We've just finished up the first round of over 14 gatherings or convenings throughout the province.  What a gift to be able to create a space for people to come together to learn, to Co create, and to harvest the collective wisdom present in the room! 

One of the things we shared at each of these gatherings is more information about impact networks and the role that such networks, including STOPS to Violence, play in forging connections, spreading information and sparking collaborative action.  A core function of an Impact Network is convening people.  And my goodness… it’s a beautiful thing!  

A convening is different from a conference.  While a conference tends to be more passive and focused on sharing information or learning, a convening is alive and focused on connection, co-creation and laying groundwork for learning and growth that unfolds over time. The roles of organizers and facilitators are replaced by the art and practices of hosting.   

Carri Munn with Circle Generation, a teacher and mentor of ours, offers insights into how convening stands apart from a conference. A convening is: 

• designed to be a collective journey for smaller groups with shared experiences 

• participatory not passive 

• flexible spaces for dynamic interactions 

• intentional design for learning that unfolds over time 

• focused on relationships AND content to connect people for greater possibilities 

• holistic and diverse to minimize echo chambers 

 Check out Carri’s full blog about convenings vs conferences here. 

 We hope to see you at our next convening!

Written by: Alissa Hill

In every neighborhood, there are unsung heroes—individuals who naturally step up when someone is in need. Empowering these local champions is key to creating lasting, safe communities. While experts and formal support services are crucial, it’s the everyday peopleamong us—friends, family, neighbors, colleagues, and community members—who are uniquely positioned to recognize early signs of distress and take proactive steps to prevent violence. 

The Role of Community Champions 

Community champions are trusted figures who understand the unique ecosystem of their town or city. They’re the friendly faces in the hallways, the attentive listeners in community meetings, and the caring individuals who offer a helping hand during times of crisis. These champions can spot potential issues before they escalate and provide support in a way that is both personal and effective. 

Empowerment Through Practical Training 

Imagine a community where every person feels confident in addressing unhealthy situations, where support isn’t limited to professionals but is woven into the fabric of everyday interactions. That’s the vision behind REALtalk—a program designed to equip community members with the skills to support others safely and compassionately. 

Through REALtalk, participants learn how to: 

• Identify Early Warning Signs: Recognize subtle changes in behavior that may signal unhealthy or dangerous situations. 

• Engage with Compassion: Use simple, effective language to open up conversations about safety and well-being. 

• Connect to Resources:Provide clear guidance on accessing professional help and community services. 

• Build a Culture of Support: Foster an environment where open dialogue and mutual care are the norm. 

Why Community-Based Action Matters 

Everyday people in community often have a deep understanding of the cultural and social nuances that shape their communities. When folks are trained and empowered, they become catalysts for change—ensuring that no one has to face challenges alone. 

By transforming bystanders into active participants, we create a ripple effect that strengthens the entire community. Each conversation, each act of support, builds a foundation for safer, more resilient neighborhoods where everyone feels seen, heard, and valued. 

Get Involved! 

We invite individuals, organizations, and community groups to learn more about REALtalk and how you can bring this important program to your community. If you’re interested in participating in a REALtalk session, our first open session will take place virtually on March 10th, 2025. Register online here.

For more information, reach out to Alissa Hill at alissa@stopstoviolence.com. 

Together, we can create communities where everyone feels supported, heard, and safe. Join us in making a difference.

written by: Alissa Hill

At STOPS to Violence Saskatchewan, we believe that every individual can help foster safe and supportive communities. One way to do this is by strengthening "natural supports"—the helpers, friends, family members, coworkers, and community members who are often the first to notice when someone is struggling. These everyday connections can make a big impact, in particular, when it comes to addressing harmful relationships and supporting those affected by violence.

The Power of Language in Creating Safety

When we talk about violence, the words we use matter. Terms like "abuse" and "perpetrator" can sometimes feel overwhelming or alienating, making it harder for people to seek help or offer support. By using more approachable, everyday language, we can create conversations that feel safer, more accessible, and non-judgmental. For example, instead of saying "abuse," we can talk about "harmful relationships" or "unhealthy behaviors." Instead of labeling someone a "perpetrator," we can acknowledge that people cause harm in different ways and that change is possible.

These small shifts in language help open doors for meaningful dialogue, reduce stigma, and empower more people to step into supportive roles without feeling like they need to be experts to make a difference.

Introducing REALtalk:  

To support communities in having these critical conversations, we are excited to introduce a new initiative in Saskatchewan. STOPS to Violence is partnering with Sagesse, an Alberta-based organization, to bring their REALtalk program to our communities.

REALtalk was created to help everyday people feel confident and prepared to talk about relationships, safety, and support in a way that is approachable and effective. Through this program, participants learn:

• How to recognize when someone may be experiencing harm in their relationships.
• Practical skills to listen and respond with compassion.
  
• Ways to connect people to resources and services when needed.
• Strategies for creating a culture of support and safety within their communities.
  

Why REALtalk Matters for Saskatchewan Communities

When more people feel comfortable and equipped to have supportive conversations, entire communities benefit. REALtalk empowers natural supports—friends, neighbors, coworkers, and community leaders—to play a pro-active role in creating safer, more connected spaces for everyone. By fostering an environment where people feel heard and understood, we can help prevent harm before it escalates and ensure that those experiencing difficulties are not facing them alone.

Get Involved!

We invite individuals, organizations, and community groups to learn more about REALtalk and how you can bring this important program to your community. If you’re interested in participating or hosting a REALtalk session, please reach out to Alissa Hill at alissa@stopstoviolence.com.

Together, we can create communities where everyone feels supported, heard, and safe. Join us in making a difference.

- by Shaylyn White

Winter tends to be a time for quiet and stillness; the weather is cold, the days are short, and plants and animals alike tend to take this time to rest. These days, most humans follow different rhythms, but resting in winter is still seen as natural for us too, and I know I’m not alone in cozying up indoors when I can. 

That still quality of winter is necessary as a way for us to conserve and recharge our energy. It’s impossible for us to simply go-go-go endlessly without rest; by taking time to slow ourselves down, we’re better able to prepare ourselves for the future. Spring, in comparison to winter, is often seen as a time for rebirth and renewal, for busyness and new awakenings, yet it’s impossible to have that bustling spring without first allowing ourselves a period of quiet.  

Because of this, despite December (the month I’m writing this) being the end of the year, it doesn’t feel like an ending to me. It feels, instead, like a time of transition, the same way a cocoon doesn’t mark the end of a caterpillar’s life cycle. There is still something waiting to be born—it’s just a matter of giving it the time and space it needs to do so, and the New Year will take us into that.  

This spring and summer past were certainly times of busyness for the Enhancing Impact project, but now, we’re in that still period—a time of reflection, consideration, and planning. Rather than lying dormant, we’re preparing to enter that next phase. And hopefully, the work we’ve done before now will be enough to see us through it.  

This blog post marks the end of my musings about the Enhancing Impact initiative. I’ve already shared our reports on campaigns and tools and resources in previous entries,so to close us off, I’d like to now share the collective summary report, which combines the findings from both phases and touches on key learnings to be had. You can read the collective summary report here here.

And if you have any questions or thoughts you’d like to share, you can do so by reaching out to Shaylyn at shaylyn@stopstoviolence.com.

- By Shaylyn White

We’re in the season of ‘campaigns’, most of them political in nature. Then there’s awareness campaigns, education campaigns, fundraising campaigns, marketing campaigns – campaigns, campaigns, campaigns.  

But what, exactly, is a ‘campaign’? 

YouTube video essayist Abigail Thorn has a running gag in which she attempts to explain complex philosophical topics by first reading from the dictionary, only for the “definition” to inevitably have nothing to do with the topic itself, instead being nonsense along the lines of “we have stolen your dictionary, send us this ransom if you ever want to see it again.” The joke is that referring to the dictionary is a total cliche, but I can only hope she’ll accept my apology, because I’m about to do exactly that.  

When I do, I see that Merriam-Webster defines a campaign as “a connected series of operations designed to bring about a particular result.” Meanwhile, the Cambridge Dictionary defines a campaign as “a planned group of especially political, business, or military activities that are intended to achieve a particular aim.” As for Collins, they define campaigns as “a planned set of activities that people carry out over a period of time in order to achieve something such as social or political change.” What’s key here seems to be connection—that campaigns are a series of activities linked by a pre-defined strategy, with the belief being that said activities will help achieve a goal. But even that’s a little vague, isn’t it? How concrete a strategy does it need to be? How clearly-defined the goal? Could I call the steps I take to eat breakfast in the morning a “campaign”? (If I can, it’s a campaign I often fail at—sorry, Mom.)  

These are the kinds of questions that arose while we at STOPs to Violence were trying to figure out the shape of the Enhancing Impact project. We wanted to know more about Saskatchewan’s violence prevention awareness and education campaigns, but the more we dug into it, the more we realized how difficult it was to pinpoint what did or did not count as a campaign versus, say, an education program. Because the first phase of this project involved a survey asking others to share campaigns they knew of or participated in, it was important to cobble together a working definition that would help us establish a common understanding of what was even being asked. This was more of a challenge than I expected, but it was a challenge that proved to be an invaluable learning experience about the way humans actually think versus how it would be convenient for them to think. Because, as it turns out, (and this feels obvious in retrospect), unique lived experiences mean unique frames of reference! People will always bring their own understanding of what’s being asked to any conversation, and part of our role is to meet them halfway, rather than unilaterally impose our own personal idea of what’s “correct.”   

 

Want to see more of what we are learning about violence prevention and awareness campaigns in Saskatchewan? Click here for our summary report.   

 

(PS: Is there a campaign you run or participate in that you don’tsee listed? Reach out to Shaylyn at shaylyn@stopstoviolence.com)   

- By Shaylyn White

I once read a story in which a character, anxious about the future, was asked to imagine they were surrounded by a mountain of laundry piled so high they couldn’t move. In this situation, if they let themselves worry too much about whether or not they could wash everything, the more anxious they’d become, and time would keep passing regardless. Because of this, the best thing they could do is start with the laundry at their feet. When people look too far ahead, they tend to get overwhelmed; by focusing on what’s within reach, they can gradually start to make progress, and eventually, the laundry gets done.  

People have a tendency to become paralyzed when faced with something bigger than they are. But while most people intuitively know and accept this about “bad” things, they’re less likely to realize that this can apply toal most anything. Instead of laundry, imagine you’re surrounded by a mountain of your favourite snacks. Sure, you might like it better than laundry, but you still can’t move, can you?   

I once had the opportunity to assist with a research project examining service responses to intimate partner violence within the 2SLGBTQ+ community. In this project, two seemingly contradictory ideas were found to co-exist: first, the belief that there were no tools and resources available for 2SLGBTQ+ individuals, and second, that people could find themselves overwhelmed by the sheer number of options they had, leaving them with no idea where to start. But these ideas cease to be contradictory when you consider the “proximity” of the individual to the tools and resources being offered. Did these tools and resources feel within their reach? Or did it feel like they were being asked to go across the room when they couldn’t even move?    

The term “natural supports” refers to supports for those at risk of experiencing or using violence that don’t fall under the more traditional umbrella of formal service systems, such as family members, friends, neighbours, and coworkers. While traditional supports can appear to simultaneously exist in dearth and in abundance, participants in the aforementioned study spoke highly of natural supports, and I imagine that's because they felt more within their reach. There’s value in strengthening these natural supports, to ensure they’re better able to meet others where they’re at in times of need.  

As part of the Enhancing Impact project, we at STOPS to Violence sought to gather information about violence prevention tools and resources specifically geared towards natural supports. To learn more about our findings, click here for our summary report. And if you happen to know of any such tools and resources yourself, reach out to Shaylyn at shaylyn@stopstoviolence.com.  

 

By Shaylyn White

Growing up, my mother didn’t really believe in “kids” media. Yes, we were kids, but she saw no reason why that should mean we only read or watched things branded as kid-friendly, and she saw it as her responsibility to explain rather than censure so that we’d feel safe exploring and broadening our cultural horizons on our own. 

In practice, this didn’t translate to much more than the fact that no bookshelves in our house were off-limits to us and that family movie nights were as likely to feature Hitchcock as Pixar. Still, it had the interesting side-effect of meaning I was raised feeling slightly removed from the elementary school cultural milieu. As I got older, I began to realize there were a number of points of reference my peers shared that I didn’t—films I hadn’t seen, games I hadn’t played, websites I didn’t use—and I began to view those points of reference with an anthropological sort of fascination. Tell me, I’d ask my friend: what does it mean to do the cooking by the book?  

(For those of you who, like me, never watched Lazy Town, you can see the answer for yourself here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZD71JeX4Vk0) 

I think about this now because I’ve come to consider it the source of my fascination with the phenomenon of trends—the phenomenon of phenomena, you might say. What is it that makes some things take off with certain demographics while others don’t? What later puts those fires out? And what makes it so hard to do that kind of thing on purpose?  

Campaigns for raising awareness about social issues like violence typically aim to be more than trends, as the word “trend” tends to connote something short-lived, but they do still aim to capture the attentions and imaginations of an audience. Yet it can be difficult to craft these bouts of collective interest intentionally, and that can lead to important work becoming stalled or siloed when it fails to spread the way we hope. And so, for the STOPS to Violence Enhancing Impact project—which has the goal of helping strengthen such initiatives—we decided to take a look at the elements of effective movements so we could take a crack at answering those questions on a greater scale.  

We found that there are certain characteristics which make messaging more likely to affect behavioural change than others, and that most of it has to do with how messaging is framed. Our report “From Moments to Movements” goes into more detail about the how and why, and with these learnings, we hope to help lay the groundwork for the development of a more coordinated and collaborative approach to violence prevention awareness and education in Saskatchewan. So if you (like me) find yourself curious about what exactly makes things “catch on”, consider giving it a look!

At 7 PM, wandering the streets in search of vegetarian fare, I chanced upon a cozy restaurant recommended by a quick Google search on my recent visit to Tokyo. Inside, a modest crowd of four diners, along with a chef and a woman who I assumed was the owner, filled the intimate space.

I had barely settled with the thought of perhaps taking my meal to go when my drink arrived. The owner and the chef approached with bright smiles, raising their glasses to say "Kanpai," a gesture I understood meant "cheers." This simple gesture instantly transformed my solo meal into a shared celebration, tethering me to the moment and to this new, welcoming community.

When it was time to leave, I was surprised by the heartfelt farewells from the chef and other diners.

In many cultures, farewells are as significant as greetings. As I prepared to leave this restaurant, the warmth of the farewell I received was as heartwarming as the meal. The owner, and his wife walked to the door with me to say bye. But wait… they ended by waving bye, not just at the door but until I was a speck in the distance! This simple attempt of wanting to fill the space in between us with “understanding”, was pure magic to me. Do we always succeed in understanding people that come into our space and lives? From all their lived experiences, different upbringing, language, etc.? No. And that is okay because the answer lies in the depth of our attempt.

Creating Inviting Departures

This experience inspired me to think about the importance of saying goodbye in a meaningful way. Whether you're leaving a restaurant, a neighborhood, a gathering, an event, someone’s house, a warm farewell can create a positive and memorable experience.

The Psychology of Parting
Goodbyes, often underestimated, play a crucial role in human interaction. They're more than a formality, right? More so of a profound psychological moment that can affirm relationships and set the tone for future engagements. A meaningful departure makes the last impression—often the lasting impression—creating a psychological bookmark in our memories of that interaction.

A warm farewell can leave a lasting impression and help to build stronger communities. Reflecting on my restaurant experience parallel with our STOPS events and gatherings, I've realized that the ingredients of a memorable bye-bye are acknowledgment, gestures, mementos, appreciation, and plenty of smiles — are essential in fostering return visits and nurturing community ties. These gestures of farewell are powerful tools that invite a future 'welcome back,' enhancing the community spirit and interconnectedness at the heart of all our interactions at STOPS! Join us one of our upcoming events and see it for yourself!

I ventured to a Vietnamese temple, one sunny Sunday morn,

Where community and togetherness felt freshly reborn.

Inside the sacred space, eyes glanced with gentle grace,

In this holy place, I stood, an outsider in the race.

A tiny lady, old and wise, approached with a question kind,

Her query about direction, reflecting the curiosity in my mind.

'I'm here by chance,' I said, 'drawn by Sunday's crowd, so bright,

An artist am I, captivated by this temple's light.

Whether sun or rain, night or day, its beauty I admire from afar,

Today, I thought to step inside, to see things as they are.'

I spoke of Buddhism’s call, a childhood intrigue so deep,

In values that felt like skin, in cells forever to keep.

With a nod and a smile, she eased my wandering soul,

Guiding me gently, making exploration my role.

Shoes off, heart open, up the stairs I went,

To discover golden statues and books, in serene content.

A man spoke of their bible, a treasure in plain sight,

His words a new melody in the morning light.

I sat and meditated, planning to leave before the crowd,

But destiny had other plans, in this temple proud.

The kind lady returned, her presence a guiding star,

Explaining the service, near and far.

As the room filled, she invited me to stay,

For service and lunch, in the most welcoming way.

I was cautious, yet intrigued, by this gesture so sweet,

In a community so warm, where heart and soul meet.

Then the master monk appeared, a figure of peace and love,

Inviting me to lunch, as if sent from above.

An hour and a half of chants, a language I didn't know,

Yet their rhythm and energy, in my heart did glow.

Afterwards, an invitation to New Year’s came my way,

From the grandmother, whose sparkling eyes did sway.

She led me to a table, where friendship did await,

Beside her and her best friend, an 80-year-old mate.

A collective prayer we said, before the meal began,

A simple act of unity, part of a larger plan.

Introductions around the table, stories shared with glee,

About temple visits, life, and how happy we could be.

In this moment, I recalled a conversation from the past,

With Tracy and the Ambassador team, questions vast.

How should a community feel, for those both new and old?

Welcomed, informed, embraced in warmth, never cold.

Togetherness, joy, and conversations bold,

Building relationships, stories untold.

This temple visit taught me, more than words can say,

It’s the people, the kindness, that makes us want to stay.

To gather, to share, to act as one,

In a community of warmth, under the sun.

I recently visited a Vietnamese Buddhist temple on a Sunday morning. Community and togetherness were foremost in my mind as I took my first look inside. Upon entering, I noticed people glancing at me from the corners of their eyes. Of course, I felt somewhat alien, lost, new, and out of place. I was a new kid in school!

A tiny, elderly lady approached me, asking if I needed directions. I explained that my curiosity about the temple, often observed bustling with people every Sunday morning, had brought me here. As an artist, I am captivated by how different lighting—be it from the sun, rain, evening sky, or streetlights at night—plays upon the temple's exterior. That morning, I decided to venture inside. I've always been intrigued by Buddhism; its values resonate with me deeply, almost as if they were part of my own skin and cells. The lady gave me this warm smile, it put me at ease. She mentioned that on Sundays, services are held on the temple's second floor. I nodded, listening intently. It was 10:15. She invited me to remove my shoes and explore the temple with a welcoming demeanor.

The lady gave me this warm smile.

Upstairs, the place was stunning – golden Buddha statues, and rows of little books on these stands. While I was absorbed in a book, a man informed me that it was their 'bible'. I absorbed this new information with a smile as he returned to his prayers.

I decided to meditate for a bit, planning to head out before their main service at 11. The lady I met earlier came upstairs and sat a few bookstands ahead. After a few minutes, she joined me and explained the service—its format, who leads it, and what follows. As we talked, the room began to fill. She encouraged me to stay for the service and even suggested staying for lunch, which was complimentary—a fact she conveyed with a wink. I was cautious, not wanting to be rude in a new community, so I remained gentle in my actions. I wondered if it would be impolite to partake in the meal without being a regular member.

The master monk entered, and the Yin monk approached the lady, likely having observed our conversation. He asked her in Vietnamese to keep me informed and invited me to lunch. She translated for me, and my heart filled with warmth once more. I felt incredibly welcomed by this community. They had not only ensured that I understood their values and culture but had also invited me to be part of it.

The service wrapped up after about an hour and a half. I might not have understood the chanting, but there was something about the sound and vibrations that just washed over me, leaving a trail of peace. As the service ended, the monk began handing out invites to their New Year celebration on February 9th. He even gave one to me. The kind-hearted grandmother, with a twinkle in her eye, urged me to come along, playfully pointing out that a lot of young folks would be there. Her warm, thoughtful invitation got me thinking about all the reasons I'd love to come back.

After the service, she guided me downstairs to these long, welcoming wooden dining tables. She had already saved a spot for me right next to her and her charming 80-year-old 'best friend'. Just before we started eating, she let me in on a little tradition – everyone at the table would join in for a prayer. It was a beautiful moment of unity. From a distance, the monk, with a caring tone, let everyone know in Vietnamese about the peanuts in the food. The grandmother quickly translated for me, ensuring I was in the loop.

Throughout the meal, the grandmother introduced me to everyone at our large table. We shared stories about our visits to the temple, our daily lives, and our collective love for Buddha, food, the sense of community that brought us all together.

This whole experience took me back to a conversation I once had with the network hub Ambassador team and Tracy. We were brainstorming about how we wanted people to feel when they join the network hub community, and how we hoped we would feel if we entered a new community. This day at the temple, it hit me – this was exactly it. Feeling welcomed and informed, met with smiles and open arms. A sense of belonging and joy, comfortable enough for open, honest conversations. And, most importantly, building those connections that make you eager to come back. Because in the end, it’s all about the people, the bonds we form, and gathering around a cause that unites us all.

Read our network values here.