Last Saturday, June 20, I witnessed something quietly powerful on the trails of Bonshaw Hills Provincial Park on Prince Edward Island (PEI). I was one of fourteen men — joined by two young boys, including my own nine-year-old son, Pious. Most of us gathered first at BIPOC USHR offices in downtown Charlottetown, our regular home for monthly BIPOC Men sessions, before carpooling out to the park. Members from Summerside in Prince County met us directly at the venue. We laced up, loaded up on water, sunscreen, and mosquito repellent — and hit the trail. What followed was storytelling, laughter, and the quiet gift of people getting to know each other — many for the first time, others reuniting. We came from Uganda, Ghana, Nigeria, Kenya, Rwanda, India, Iran, Mauritius, The Bahamas, and Canada. We hiked. We played an unplanned, fiercely competitive soccer match that ended 1:1. We barbecued. We played badminton. We shared our stories. And in the sharing circle afterward, I watched one brother offer another a job opportunity — right there, on the grass. A third stepped in to refer a friend. That is what happens when you create genuine space for people to be human together. That is community. That is belonging made visible. Honouring Father's Day The timing of this gathering carried its own quiet significance. With Father's Day just twenty-four hours away, this felt — in many ways — like a celebration of fatherhood in its fullest sense. I brought Pious along and watched him run the trail, take photos, kick the soccer ball, play badminton, get on the swings, and look up at a circle of men from across the world who were laughing and belonging freely. It made me proud — of him, and of the kind of man I hope he is becoming. Some of the men present were fathers. Others carried fatherly roles without the title — mentors, uncles, big brothers, trusted elders who simply show up. I see myself in that description too. To be a BIPOC father or father figure in Canada is to hold something both beautiful and heavy. It means raising children to love who they are in a world that does not always reflect that love back. It means modelling strength and softness in equal measure. And it means building spaces where the next generation can see men who look like them laughing freely, competing joyfully, and belonging fully.