Remi Ejiwunmi M.Sc. RM (she/her)

March 25 marks the International Day of Remembrance of the Victims of Slavery $ the Transatlantic Slave Trade. Learn about the Black people who were enslaved in early Toronto on the walking tour I curated “Brought in Bondage” enslavedafricansinearlyontario.ca/Brought_in_Bon…

A Nelly Furtado singing the remix of Missy Elliott's Get Ur Freak On (which isn't on any streaming platform) It caught me completely off guard

De La Soul performed “Me Myself and I” in their latest Tiny Desk performance:

I’M CRYINGGGGG WHY THEY ATE THAT😭😭

Two generations brought together by the blues. This is so special. The power of Sinners >

the concept of heated rivalry coming up in a conversation with canadian filmmakers about the "canadian" cinematic identity and used as an example of what narrative sovereignty could look like...

Too good 🤣🔥….employees of Las Gaviotas Cevichería in Lima, Peru recreated the Bad Bunny halftime show in the restaurant

Love this.💞 It cannot be overstated how important Trevor Nelson is to Black British culture. His presence in the media landscape for the past 30 years is significant and he deserves to be praised. His stewardship of hip hop, soul and RnB on UK radio is appreciated.

Durand accepted his Grammy as only he could!! 😂😂😂 CONGRATULATIONS!!

Wow just WOW MICH!!!! #MichieMee gets postage stamp in Canada!!!! 🙏🏿

This is so needed, especially for this app😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Man, his voice is INCREDIBLE. Miles Caton from @SinnersMovie just dropped by our New Year’s Eve show and my jaw was on the floor.

@Matt_Pinner The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Can you name a Nicolas Cage movie you like that is not The Rock, Con Air or Face Off 🤔

@Mikehomeseller Early 90s Honda Civic hatchback

WHAT CAR DID YOU LEARN TO DRIVE STICK IN? #mikesquestions

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces. But I see everything. Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments. One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?" "6:15," he said, confused. "Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it." He blinked. "You... you can do that?" "I can now," I said. Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?" "Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing." He cried. Right there in the parking lot. Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic. But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!" "Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel." He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us." The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over." Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it. But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note, "Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends" People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket. I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece." So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones. Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees. It's not glamorous. But it's everything." Let this story reach more hearts.... Credit: Mary Nelson

@MissSassbox Filled with joy

group project STOP scrolling and drop a positive vibe in three words, spread and keep it going like one big beautiful ass affirmation thread

I spoke with @BigThink about why even the most experienced professionals need a coach — including surgeons. It’s one of the most under-utilized ways people improve. Video: youtu.be/tW7ClAexgHI?si…

NEW YORK you've set the tone for the rest of the country‼️ BRAVO NYC‼️

Toronto parents were watching the Blue Jays game while Trick or Treating 😭