Every morning following a sunrise run, Jill Wheatley cycled to work along picturesque farm roads – expertly dodging cattle, sheep, tractors, and impatient commuters – on her way to work at an international high school in Bavaria. She was a health and sport science teacher with an adventurous streak. Since leaving Canada in 2001, she had been to more than 60 countries and had extended work stints in Singapore, Russia, Switzerland, and Germany.

Then in September 2014, her world collapsed. Jill was leading a baseball lesson when one of her Grade 10 students accidentally hit a line drive that fractured Jill’s skull. The bleeding and swelling was so severe that Jill wasn’t expected to live. She had suffered a traumatic brain injury that caused serious behavioural and cognitive changes and the loss of 70% of her vision.

Jill spent the next two years in hospitals in Germany, Canada, and Colorado undergoing a painful and frustrating rehabilitation. She describes herself as a nightmare patient who resisted treatment, tampered with medical monitors, poked holes in feed lines, and repeatedly pulled tubes from her nose. “I remained disgruntled and battled severe, sky-high anxiety about the uncertainty of life ahead,” she explains.

Things finally began to shift when Jill became spellbound by the Rockies outside her hospital room window in Colorado. “The thought of taking my recovery into the mountains lit my fire like nothing else,” Jill recalls. She resolved to run 13 mountain ranges throughout the world in a single year.

“My goal was to embrace and accept the ways that my traumatic brain injury had changed me.”

Months later, Jill was competing in the 2017 Manaslu Trail Race in the Nepalese Himalayas while battling post-traumatic stress and altitude sickness. Jill also had to contend with her limited vision and differently-abled body. “I learned to be gracious with myself when physically challenging trail routes slowed my pace or swept my feet from under me,” she says. Although Jill was travelling independently, she discovered that she wasn’t always alone. Strangers were ready to help her traverse rickety bridges and offer her places to sleep, rides, and hugs of encouragement and friendship.

In October 2017, during a staff development meeting at her part-time job, Dana Clark’s manager asked her, “Who are you on this planet to be?”

The recent Lakehead grad (HBASc’16) and Seneca College broadcast journalism student replied, “I just want to show up for people every single day and be a heroic human.”

Why the phrase “heroic human” popped into her head, Dana couldn’t say, but it spurred her to start a global social impact movement to help other people see the good in themselves and others.

That night, at the encouragement of her mother, Dana registered the domain name Heroic Humans. Soon, she was writing stories about individuals from every walk of life for her new website and social media channels, while at the same time juggling school and work.

“I believe that everybody just wants to be seen, heard, and loved for exactly who they are. There are so many marginalized communities who need awareness and a voice.”

Dana focused her attention on creating a space to acknowledge and celebrate their victories.

“It could be a cancer survivor or someone with a physical disability who’s been struggling to feel beautiful or worthy,” she explains.

In addition to her online presence, Dana started holding workshops in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) so that people could talk about their experiences, be vulnerable, and find support.

“I think the more connection and sense of community we have in our own lives, the more fulfilled we’ll be – whether it’s a virtual community like Heroic Humans or an actual community.” She also began enrolling ambassadors to spread Heroic Humans through their own initiatives.

Since starting her movement to inspire, celebrate, and empower heroic community members around the world, Dana has had many milestones to celebrate herself.

Firefighters risk their lives nearly every time they strap on their personal protective equipment, but once the smoke has cleared, who assists these courageous men and women with their mental health?

Thunder Bay Fire Rescue has firefighters who serve on the Critical Incident Response Team (CIRT) to help fellow firefighters involved in a critical incident while on the job.

Medical calls, fires, hazardous material calls, and motor vehicle collisions are all examples of critical incidents that firefighters contend with regularly.

Although the use of CIRTs is a common strategy in Canada, it’s unclear how effective it is for firefighters dealing with symptoms from a critical incident – symptoms that have been linked to post-traumatic stress.

Regan Bolduc is a firefighter who serves as co-chair of the CIRT team.

“I see how exposure to some of the most difficult situations in our community can really affect the mental health of our firefighters,” Regan says. “I’m hopeful this research will help me better understand what works and doesn’t work for our team.”

Dr. Kathryn Sinden believes she may be able to help. The assistant professor of Kinesiology at Lakehead University is working with Thunder Bay Fire Rescue and the Thunder Bay Professional Firefighters Association to determine methods that will assist firefighters experiencing these symptoms.

“Not only does post-traumatic stress impact the mental and physical health of firefighters, their families are also affected. We are looking at the impact of this strategy and whether the CIRT team requires resources to support them as well.”

Thunder Bay Fire Chief John Hay said common symptoms after a critical incident include having trouble sleeping, difficulty concentrating, and irritability, but a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress is not made unless firefighters have several symptoms at the same time.

“I believe this research could help in a number of ways,” Chief Hay says, “with resilience, awareness, and strategies that may help mitigate the effects of post-traumatic stress in the workplace.”

Gia Spiropoulos is a natural born leader and a serious threat on the basketball court. “My dad got me hooked on the sport,” explains the Lakehead Orillia graduate student from Belleville, Ontario. “When I was a kid, we used to play together.”

Gia was so good that – at the age of 13 – during a family vacation to Greece, she was recruited to play for the Greek national basketball team. She had been shooting hoops in her father’s hometown of Tripoli, attracting the attention of a professional coach. “Basketball is a huge part of my life and it’s shaped me as a person,” she says.

Recently, Gia has been focusing her attention on reenergizing Lakehead Orillia’s basketball team, both as a player and a co-coach, as well as conducting master’s research on climate change.

It’s a lot to take on, but Gia grew up defying expectations. “My parents were clear that school should come before sports, yet there have always been these two parts to me,” she says.

“I’m a student athlete through and through, and I want my teammates to know you can do both school and athletics. Sports gives you a place to be supported and discover who you are.”

Convinced that she wanted to be a teacher, Gia completed a concurrent education and science degree at Queen’s. As graduation approached, however, she shifted direction. She’d been inspired by an environmental science course and decided to look for a graduate program in climate change education instead of taking a classroom job. “Although it took me a while to get here, once I found my path, I knew it was the right one.”

Her search led her straight to Orillia. “There is no other program in Ontario like Lakehead’s Master of Education,” Gia says. “It’s a perfect blend of education, science, and sustainability.”

Tackling the pressing need for updated climate change resources in Canada, Gia’s research combines classroom surveys, observation, and conversations to develop a first-of-its-kind guideline addressing the realities, diverse perspectives, and ethics of teaching climate change in any subject, in any province.

“Teachers have the responsibility to educate students on the facts of the climate emergency and turn that information into action and motivation, not worry,” she explains. “If I can help even three teachers, that’s 90 students – what a way to make an impact on classrooms and communities.”

The words “palliative care” often evoke images of echoing corridors and stark white walls. This is especially the case in Canada’s First Nations communities where people with serious illnesses are regularly transferred to hospitals far from home.

“There is a lot of guilt because Indigenous Peoples want to care for their own, but there aren’t enough health care resources available in their communities,” explains internationally recognized researcher Holly Prince. “Many are Elders who were forcibly removed from their communities to attend residential schools and suddenly they’re being removed again.”

Holly is a Lakehead alumna, PhD student, and a Project Manager at the University’s Centre for Education and Research on Aging & Health (CERAH). She is an Anishinaabekwe from the Red Rock Indian Band, Lake Helen Reserve.

She defines palliative care as tending to the physical, spiritual, social, psychological, and emotional needs of people with chronic and terminal illnesses and the needs of their families. “Its holistic nature resonates with me as a First Nations woman,” she says.

Holly’s palliative care journey began 16 years ago when a 24-year-old friend died of cancer. “I saw him go through radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery and at no point were the words ‘death, dying, or end of life’ mentioned.”

She’d been about to start a Master of Social Work degree focusing on addictions and mental health when she changed her specialization.

“I knew that the Creator had put me on a path to make meaning not only from his life, but also from his death.”

Holly approached social work professor Dr. Mary Lou Kelley and they began to work together to improve the end-of-life care in Indigenous communities by developing community-based education and palliative care programs.

Postsecondary education was a radical departure from the future Holly had envisioned for herself. “After high school, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Going to college or university seemed so far out of reach for me. All I knew was that I wanted to travel the world.” She rethought this decision when an Elder encouraged her to enrol in Confederation College’s Native Mental Health Worker program.

“I want to know what makes people get along and what makes them fight,” says Dr. Daniel Krupp, the director of the SALT Lab at Lakehead Orillia.

The SALT Lab’s mission is to create a more peaceful world by unravelling the causes of cooperation and conflict. Dr. Krupp’s research looks at the biological evolution of social behaviour in humans, in particular, the connections between violence, inequality, kinship, and ethnocentrism.

“It’s basically using Darwinian thinking to generate hypotheses and predictions about human behaviour. We all have the same basic nature, but different environments get us to behave differently in ways predictable from evolutionary theory.”

His work studying psychopaths in Ontario’s Mental Health Centre, Penetanguishene, led to some surprising revelations. “Most people, including criminologists, assume that psychopaths are developmentally abnormal,” Dr. Krupp says, “but I wanted to test the hypothesis that psychopaths are biologically designed to pursue a selfish evolutionary strategy instead of a cooperative one.” If the theory was true, psychopaths would avoid exploiting their genealogical kin because they share the same DNA. When the study wrapped up, the results confirmed that psychopaths chose to hurt people unrelated to them. “Psychopaths know right from wrong,” Dr. Krupp says, “they just don’t care.”

Psychopaths, however, make up only a small proportion of the population. That’s why Dr. Krupp is especially interested in inequality, something he believes is a widespread source of conflict. “Evolution should have designed species to be sensitive to distributional differences,” he says.

“One of the most exciting things I’ve discovered is that competition amplifies the effect of inequality and consequently, may increase homicide rates.“

Vying for parental attention is one of the earliest experiences people have with competition, often leading to fierce sibling rivalry. As children become adults, their competitors become their co-workers, neighbours, and romantic challengers. Dr. Krupp has found that this battle for resources discourages cooperation at the local level and increases conflict.

One way to counter these negative effects, according to his research, is to spread competition over a larger section of the population. Issues such as ethnocentrism further complicate the problem of inequality. In experiments, he has demonstrated that people are more likely to help individuals who look like them and to view those with dissimilar faces as untrustworthy.

Fortunately, this ethnocentric bias isn’t carved in stone. “People raised in ethnically diverse areas tend to be less ethnocentric than people raised in homogeneous areas,” Dr. Krupp notes. “It’s not ethnicity alone, though, it’s the fact that we perceive ourselves to be in competition with them.” Continuing to pursue these kinds of insights is important because they can help decision-makers adopt policies to make our neighbourhoods – and society as a whole – more resilient.

At a Humanities 101 graduation ceremony several years ago, the audience sat spellbound as the class valedictorian delivered her speech.

The woman – in her early twenties and the mother of three children – had walked up to the podium and began, “A few years ago, I was beaten and bruised and absolutely without any self worth. Then somebody asked me if I’d like to take part in Humanities 101.”

The young woman was told that the free 12-week evening course at Lakehead Orillia would introduce her to university life as well as provide school supplies, bus fare, babysitting services, and a food voucher for the cafeteria. As the weeks went by, this outreach initiative for people facing barriers to postsecondary education built up her confidence.

“And I want all of you to know,” the young woman continued, “that I applied for a job and enrolled in three courses at Lakehead because I’ve started to believe that I can do it.”

Two longstanding Lakehead Orillia supporters and donors were in the audience that night – Susan and Bruce Waite.

“Tears were streaming down my face. From then on, I got behind the program.”

Susan is now an integral part of the Humanities 101 fundraising committee and recruits other community members to help out. In November 2018, she took the lead in persuading prospective guests to attend a donor event that raised more than $17,000 for Humanities 101.

Victoria Currie barely had time to attend her university commencement ceremony for her Bachelor of Science degree before packing up her belongings and leaving Newfoundland for the heart of the Canadian Shield.

The geology grad’s destination was Lac des Iles, Ontario, where one of the rarest metals on Earth – palladium – is mined. “It’s a heavily forested terrain with lots of lakes,” Victoria says.

Operated by North American Palladium (NAP), Lac des Iles has been flourishing under the leadership of NAP President and CEO Jim Gallagher. “We are currently ramping up to 12,000 tonnes per day to become one of the largest underground mines in Canada,” he says.

Palladium is used in catalytic converters to reduce the pollutants in vehicle exhaust fumes, and the demand for it has doubled over the last 10 years. As a result, NAP is a key player in Northwestern Ontario’s economy and the employer of more than 700 people.

They have also become a crucial Lakehead University donor, supporter, and partner. “We see the faculty and students at Lakehead as our ‘go to’ destination for leading-edge research in engineering and the geosciences,” Gallagher says.

“We are really excited to be working with NAP on what we hope will be the first of a long series of collaborations. NAP is also contributing more than $88,000 of in-kind support to this project.”

In April 2019, NAP signed a memorandum of understanding enabling a Master of Science student to conduct field research to better understand how the Lac des Iles palladium deposit formed. This is part of a $50,000 research project with Lakehead’s Centre of Excellence for Sustainable Mining and Exploration Director, Dr. Peter Hollings.

NAP’s generosity will help Lakehead University’s non-profit group, Superior Science, deliver STEM programming to elementary and junior high students. Funding for Superior Science summer camps, girls club programming, community events, and Indigenous outreach will be enhanced.