Profiles in Courage
A look at the recipients of the 2024 Coast Mental Health Courage To Come Back Awards
(Coast Mental Health)
Every year, the Coast Mental Health Courage To Come Back Awards recognize a group of extraordinary British Columbians in five categories: Addiction, Medical, Mental Health, Physical Rehabilitation, and Youth. I have been interviewing and profiling the recipients since 2010 so this year marks my 15th year of being involved, in my small way, with this great cause. My employer, CityNews 1130, has been a media partner since the very beginning in 1999. The awards, usually a sold-out gala at the Vancouver Convention Centre, raise critical funds for Coast Mental Health which has, according to its website, for 50+ years, empowered the recovery of people with mental illness by providing housing, support services, and employment/education. Writing these profiles and getting to interview these amazing people is an honour and a privilege and some of the most satisfying work I get to do. So, without further ado, here are the recipients for 2024.
Mental Health award recipient is a trailblazer for others with borderline personality disorder
(Baylie McKnight/Coast Mental Health)
(radio feature)
Hers is a journey of self-discovery and resilience -- a childhood filled with struggles until, finally, a medical diagnosis at age 21 made it all "make sense."
Our series profiling the recipients of the 2024 Courage To Come Back Awards begins with a look at Baylie McKnight of Victoria, the recipient of the award in the Mental Health category.
"You know, I would say it almost started at birth,” she said. “I was a really sensitive child growing up."
Like many kids with complex mental health issues, Baylie struggled with bullying. And it didn't take long before she exhibited symptoms of anxiety, OCD, and PTSD.
“There really wasn't a lot of places for me to get help,” she said. “Like, people really didn't understand how to support me. My parents tried to take me to counselors, and there just wasn't a lot of help."
Things would get worse from there. She was cutting herself and running away from home at 13, and by age 14, Baylie was using drugs.
Things wouldn't really fall into place for her until age 21, when she was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder.
“That's where things kind of really started to change for me because I formally had a diagnosis which I probably needed since I was an adolescent," she said.
"I think part of it is that there is so much stigma around BPD, around, one, diagnosing under 18, diagnosing at all, or finding the right support where people actually know how to treat it is a big issue, and so I'd never even heard of it before."
As a co-founder of the Borderline Personality Disorder Society of BC, Baylie has made it her life's work to raise awareness about BPD. And, as a counselor in private practice, she engages others in Dialectical Behavioural Therapy -- or DBT -- the same treatment that has been so-life changing for her.
“I understand where they're coming from my being there. I have experienced a lot of different things throughout my life. And then I've also found tools that have been helpful for me to be able to cope with those better, and then translate that into helping other people with their own challenges that might be similar," she said.
And she is quick to add she wouldn't be here today without the support of her family and friends.
"They've been instrumental in supporting me to have the Courage To Come Back and I couldn't have done it without them."
Addiction award recipient overcame racism, bullying, and substance use to lead by example
(Kevin Parker/Coast Mental Health)
(radio feature)
He was convicted more than 30 times for dealing drugs, mainly crack and heroin. Now, 15 years sober, he is an example for others. Our series of Courage To Come Back profiles continues with a look at Kevin Parker of Coquitlam, the recipient of the award for Addiction.
Kevin's story begins in 1970s East Vancouver. He was born to a white mother and a Black father and was quickly singled out for looking different.
"There was really nobody that looked like me in my neighbourhood, there was nobody that looked like me at my school, there was nobody that really looked like me at the grocery store. The only other person that looked like he was my brother," he said.
"We’d go to the grocery store and I can notice people looking at us strange, looking at my mom strange, people would make comments and, from that early age, I felt marginalized. I felt different, and I could feel, then I didn't know what it was, but, you know, now I think it's called racism."
Kevin was bullied at school and fought back. But soon, he would find his escape in drugs – first weed, and then, at age 13, crack.
"That's the first time that I can really remember in my life feeling some kind of comfort,” he said. “I just felt like nothing mattered in the moment. I felt strong. I felt powerful. I felt not afraid. And the first thing I said when I was done smoking it was, ‘Can I get some more of that?’"
That set him down a path of crime and substance abuse.
“I thought I would never come out of it. I always thought I was going to die in an alley or die in a jail cell," he said.
Kevin wouldn't see daylight again until his mid-thirties. All the time he spent behind bars meant he couldn't be the kind of father he wanted to be.
"It was that guilt and that heartache,” he said. “It took a lot of years but, by the time I was 35, I think the bottom was when I was sitting in prison the very last time, ending a three or a three and a half year sentence or something. [I thought] I just don't think I can do this anymore. You know?"
Today, Kevin works in harm reduction, walking alongside others as they make their journey from addiction to recovery.
"The work for me is about trying to make a difference in people's lives,” he said.
His message, if he can do it, so can anyone else.
"And, if you ever think you can't do it, there are people out there who can walk you through the process and show you that you can. It's totally doable."
"What I say is, if folks are still breathing, there is still a chance. So, give yourself that chance," he said.
Once bullied by her teachers, Youth award recipient now works to bring inclusion into the classroom
(Samantha Sewell/Coast Mental Health)
(radio feature)
She was born with a rare speech disorder that saw her bullied by classmates and teachers. Now, an educator herself, she works to bring inclusion into the classroom. Our series of Courage To Come Back profiles continues with a look at Samantha Sewell of Vernon, the recipient of the award in the Youth category.
Samantha was born with a condition called Apraxia of Speech.
"The easiest way to explain it is that the pathway between my brain and my mouth doesn't really exist," she said.
Her parents were told she would never be able to communicate like everyone else. She attended speech therapy from the age of three until she was well into high school.
"So, I had to learn how to speak from sight. I had to learn the alphabet by sight.”
Growing up in a time before tablet computers, Samantha had to walk around with a binder full of pictures she would point at to communicate.
She often became withdrawn and depressed, unable to participate in classroom discussions or even basic schoolyard chit-chat.
"The most frustrating thing was when people would ask nonstop, ‘What?’ And they would say it like two or three times. And then they would just be like, ‘Oh, whatever.’ Like it's fine. And I'd be so frustrated because I wanted to say something, but they did not get that."
And, of course, being different made her a target.
"I got really, really bullied by not just children, but also teachers,” she said. “So, it made it really hard to succeed in school even as far back as, like, Grade Three."
Samantha eventually drew inspiration from the pageant world, sharing her story with others. While still in high school, she started the "Be someone's hero, not a bystander" movement.
"There are going to be bullies forever. It's just something that is unfortunate, but there is always going to be bullies,” she said. “But we don't have to be bystanders. We can teach people what bullying truly is and how to stand up to bullying."
Recently, Samantha purchased a house and renovated it into Raising Stars Preschool -- an inclusive environment where children of all abilities are welcomed.
Her message to them is simple, yet effective.
"You can just be kind to somebody, because you never really know what somebody is going through," she said. "I believe that we're all role models in a sense."
Samantha says she is honoured to receive a Courage To Come Back award as it recognizes not only where she's been but where she's going.
"I think it's an award not just for me, but [for] every single person out there with Apraxia and with a communication or any type of invisible disability. We can be recognized, and we can persevere. I may have Apraxia my whole life, but it doesn't have me, and I can keep going forever and make a difference. It's just unbelievable."
Physical Rehabilitation award recipient was knocked down but keeps on punching
(Leo Sammarelli/Coast Mental Health)
(radio feature)
He was an award-winning athlete and a Canadian boxing champion until, one day, someone tried to take it all away. Today, he is still fighting -- and still punching. Our series of Courage To Come Back profiles continues with a look at Leo Sammarelli of North Vancouver, the recipient of the award in the Physical Rehabilitation category.
March 13th, 2017 was the day everything changed for Leo. The 22-year-old was getting out of his car on his way to boxing practice when someone pulled out a gun and shot him four times.
“Twice in the abdomen, one in the side, and one in the back,” he said. “And immediately I was paralyzed from that. I dropped to the ground and, obviously, things happened from there."
What happened from there was a long and difficult rehabilitation. Leo basically had to learn how to do even the simplest of daily tasks over again.
"You know, just like a baby learns how to walk again? You got to learn how to do the simple things in life like going to the washroom. How do I take a shower? How do I get driving again? So, it was like starting from zero and really adapting."
Leo looks at it now as a new beginning.
"It's a second life. It's like you're reborn in a different body in many ways," he said.
Around six months after his injury, his eyes were opened to a new athletic career when the nationwide Paralympian Search stopped at the Richmond Olympic Oval.
"It just goes to show you there's a way to do anything. These guys are wheeling miles with no legs. Some guys are hopping on one leg, some people are swimming with two arms, no legs. It's at the highest level too. It's amazing and truly inspiring."
Today, Leo is a member of the Canadian Para Nordic ski team. However, boxing remains his passion. As the founder of West Coast Wheelchair Adaptive Boxing, he coaches athletes in person and over Zoom. He tells his students, being knocked down isn't what matters, it's how you get up again.
"That's what boxing is, it’s adapting to the situation when you're in the ring,” he said. “And you can take that and run with it in life whether it's business or whatever it is – whatever they can do with the tools I give them and learn from it and run with it, as far as they can."
"You know, you're going to fail so many times, you've just got to keep fighting."
He hopes his Courage To Come Back award inspires others to keep punching and to get up when they've been knocked down.
"You’ve just got to open the door and go right through it. And that takes courage. I just want to let them know that they can do anything possible."
Medical award recipient says lives like hers are worth living
(Monica Gartner/Coast Mental Health)
(radio feature)
Despite her challenges, Monica Gartner of Burnaby says her life is worth living. Our series of Courage To Come Back profiles concludes with a look at the recipient of the Medical award.
"I wasn't supposed to live past one," she said. "When I was a baby, my parents had to handle me very carefully. For the first three years of my life, I was carried around on a board so that they wouldn't squish me too tight when they were holding me in their arms."
Monica was born with Osteogenesis Imperfecta or OI, also known as brittle bone disease, a condition that has filled her life with challenges – most of which she has overcome.
One of those challenges is travel. Monica created the non-profit Canadian Assisted Travel Society so people like her, who can't afford a caregiver, can go to a conference, educational seminar, cultural exchange or even a vacation without worry.
"Even though I'm fully functional myself, I can't transfer myself on an aeroplane. I need someone to physically pick me up and carry me and put me on the seat and I have to put pillows on the seat because I'm rather petite, three feet one and a half inches tall,” she said. “So, that's how the Canadian assisted travel society was born. It was born out of a personal need."
Another challenge is increasing the representation of disabled people in TV and film. Monica has taken acting classes and even has an agent.
"I've been in a television show called The Now. That was a really cool and fun experience and I hope to do more of that in the future," she said. "So, anytime when someone said I couldn't do something, I tried to think outside the box,” she said. “How can I do the same thing, but in a different way?"
Monica endured a lot of pain as a child, from breaking her bones more than 500 times and endless surgeries to emotional pain from bullying. When she was younger, she couldn't do much on her own – requiring help for even the most basic of tasks like going to the washroom or getting into bed. Today, Monica can do more than she ever thought possible. As she puts it, being disabled is a state of mind, not a state of being.
"It's sad to see that some people, they go through a traumatic event, and they think it's the end of their life,” she said. “And, it doesn't have to be the end of your life. At the end of the day, I take a deep breath and I go, 'Okay, well, what can we do to make things better? What can I do to move forward?'"
Gartner was hit by a car – twice – and fell out of her wheelchair while home alone. But she pushes through it all. Her message is perseverance.
"Don't let one event or two events stop you,” she said. “You can keep going. You can move on to the next part of your life...just a little bit different."
Last year, she nearly died from an overdose while being treated in the hospital for pneumonia. She says nurses and doctors need to change their view of people with disabilities. She feels since Medical Assistance in Dying was legalized in 2016, lives like hers are more at-risk than ever.
"That's the whole idea behind medical intervention and medical technology. It's not to end it, it's to save lives,” she said. “Yeah, I don't want to live with pain. Who wants to live with pain. I say, kill the pain, not the person."