When the Young Diplomatic Forum held its 21st edition in Washington D.C. last July, the gathering brought together emerging voices from around the world who are shaping new approaches to global leadership. Among the delegates was Maiya Jehman Morancie, whose calm confidence and thoughtful engagement made an immediate impression during the program hosted by the Global Diplomatic Forum. She spoke with care, asked precise questions, and carried herself with the quiet assurance of someone who understands both her story and the work ahead of her.
Maiya is a student of International Studies at Simon Fraser University in Canada, where she focuses on International Security and Conflict, with a minor in Communications. Her academic interests intersect with her lived experience and her growing body of community work in climate literacy, identity, migration, and environmental justice. Whether in academic settings or community spaces, she approaches complex issues with a steady sense of responsibility and a deep respect for the people most affected by policy decisions.
As Young and Diplomatic turns its lens to Canada, Maiya offers an entry point into a wider generation shaping conversations on belonging, climate, and global responsibility. She stands among young leaders who see diplomacy not only in state institutions, but also in community networks, cultural memory, and the willingness to engage with uncomfortable histories with honesty and care. Her voice adds depth to the ongoing conversation about how the next generation is redefining diplomacy for a changing world. Excerpts:
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Your identity as a second-generation settler with Afro-Caribbean and South Asian roots shapes how you move through academic and community spaces. How has this influenced your understanding of belonging and responsibility in Canada?
My identity shapes every space I enter. As a second-generation settler with Afro-Caribbean and South Asian roots, I have always navigated layers of belonging that feel both personal and political. Growing up in a settler-colonial country means recognizing that my presence, opportunities, and mobility sit on Indigenous lands, and that this carries responsibilities beyond acknowledgment.
This understanding pushes me to think critically about whose stories are centered, who is made visible, and whose histories are ignored. It has also taught me that belonging is not static. It is something continually negotiated through community care, cultural memory, and accountability to the lands and people who came before us. This shapes how I approach my academic work and community projects, especially when engaging with BIPOC communities who experience similar tensions around identity and place.
Your studies bring together security, climate justice, and the ongoing legacies of colonialism. Where do these areas intersect most clearly in your work, and what conversations do you think remain missing in Canada?
These areas intersect in the simple reality that security, climate change, and colonialism cannot be understood separately. Environmental harm disproportionately affects communities that have already faced historical and political marginalization. At the same time, state approaches to “security” often overlook social and environmental needs that shape people’s everyday safety and well-being.
In my work, I examine how climate vulnerability and racial inequality are intertwined. Issues such as resource extraction, displacement, migration, and access to land continue to reflect colonial dynamics. Yet these links are not always part of mainstream policy conversations in Canada.
What remains missing is a sustained discussion about environmental justice as a security issue — one that involves identity, governance, historical responsibility, and community survival. Young people, especially those from BIPOC communities, are already pushing these conversations forward, and I see part of my work as helping bring them into academic and community spaces.
Much of your research looks at Vancouver’s Black history and the long shadow of slavery and migration. What drew you to this focus, and what insights have challenged your own assumptions?
My honours project, The Afro-Caribbean Experience Across Generations: Tracing Roots, Feminist Storytelling, and Negotiating Black Identity in Vancouver, examines how Afro-Caribbean communities across two generational cohorts navigate identity, belonging, and racialization within a settler-colonial city. The project is grounded in Black feminist thought, postcolonial feminism, and diasporic theory, and uses storytelling and reflexive thematic analysis to center women’s voices as carriers of cultural memory and resilience.
I was drawn to this topic through both personal experience and academic curiosity. Growing up in Vancouver, I was often the only Black person in my classroom or extracurricular spaces. It created an early awareness that something was missing in the narratives we learn about Canada. As I advanced in my studies, I realized how limited public understanding is of Canada’s relationship to slavery, migration restrictions, and anti-Black policy. This led me to focus on the Afro-Caribbean community in Vancouver, a group that is frequently generalized under a singular “Black” label, despite its diverse histories, languages, and identities.
What challenged my assumptions most profoundly was discovering the depth of resilience and interconnectedness within Vancouver’s Black community. Although geographically dispersed and often rendered invisible, the community maintains strong networks grounded in intergenerational memory, cultural practice, and ongoing efforts toward ancestral reclamation.
Through interviews, surveys, focus groups, and a forthcoming community storytelling event, I saw how people continually craft belonging despite structural barriers. This reshaped my understanding of how identity is preserved and transformed across generations.
You have spoken about growing up in Vancouver often as the only Black student in your classrooms. How did those early experiences shape your confidence and your approach to advocacy today?
Being the only Black student shaped my confidence in complicated ways. On one hand, it made me hyperaware of how I was perceived. On the other, it strengthened my resilience and forced me to learn early how to speak up for myself.
Those experiences taught me the value of representation and the harm of silence. They also shaped my approach to advocacy. I never want young students – especially BIPOC youth – to feel invisible or alone in their identity. This drives much of my work today, from community storytelling to climate education. I want to create spaces where people feel seen, valued, and supported in expressing who they are.
Through your nonprofit, you promote climate literacy at the community level. What does meaningful climate education look like in culturally diverse communities, and how do you build trust around these topics?
I co-founded the White Rock South Surrey Climate Corps because, following the isolation many people experienced during COVID-19, I wanted to create opportunities for rebuilding community connection through environmental engagement. The goal was to make climate literacy accessible, collaborative, and grounded in everyday life.
Meaningful climate education in culturally diverse communities must be inclusive and adaptable. People come to climate issues with different experiences, resources, and cultural relationships to the environment. For this reason, I encourage individuals to create a simple personal action plan with three commitments they can realistically maintain. Climate engagement should feel empowering rather than overwhelming, and recognizing diverse perspectives is essential.
Trust is built gradually. We began with local initiatives such as beach cleanups, frock swaps, workshops, and zero-waste community events. By starting small and collaborating with organizations that community members already know and trust, we created consistent, welcoming spaces for climate learning. Listening has been central to this process. When people feel heard and respected, climate literacy becomes a shared effort rooted in community care.
Young advocates are playing a growing role in environmental and social justice spaces, though their work is not always recognized. What forms of youth leadership do you believe deserve more attention?
I think youth leadership shows up most powerfully in everyday acts of care and creativity, not only in formal roles or large-scale activism. Young people are organizing mutual aid groups, supporting digital literacy, running community gardens, and creating social media content that makes complex issues accessible. These contributions may not always receive institutional recognition, but they are critical forms of leadership.
Youth are also bridging disciplines in ways that older frameworks do not always allow. They are connecting climate action to identity, mental health, art, migration, and local resilience. These intersections represent the future of advocacy, and institutions need to value and support this kind of holistic leadership.
As the President of the International Studies Student Association, you work alongside peers who think deeply about global issues. What shifts have you observed in how students approach questions of identity, equity, and global responsibility?
I have noticed a growing willingness among students to engage with global issues through a personal and intersectional lens. Students are more aware of how identity and lived experience shape their understanding of international politics, justice, and global responsibility. There is also a deeper recognition that global issues are not separate from local realities.
Many students are moving away from abstract policy discussions and toward conversations centered on community impact, Indigenous sovereignty, migration, equity, and climate justice. This shift reflects a desire for meaningful engagement rather than theoretical distance, and it has shaped how our student association approaches events, workshops, and collaborations.
Looking ahead, how do you hope your research, advocacy, and community work will shape broader conversations on environmental justice and identity in Canada and beyond?
I hope my work helps deepen understanding of how identity, ancestry, and environmental justice shape one another, especially within BIPOC communities in Canada. Environmental issues are tied to the ongoing impacts of colonialism, displacement, and racial inequality, and I want to help bring those connections forward in a way that feels accessible and meaningful.
Through my research and nonprofit work, I focus on uplifting community voices, strengthening intergenerational knowledge, and creating opportunities for BIPOC youth to see themselves in climate leadership. If my efforts encourage dialogue, support community resilience, or broaden how we think about environmental justice, I feel that is a meaningful contribution.
In the long term, I hope to support conversations that recognize environmental justice as deeply connected to identity, belonging, and collective well-being.
