The Virtual Cup of Tea began the way a lot of things did during the pandemic: out of necessity, over a screen, with people trying to figure out something new.
Ashley Safar was part of that group and, several years later, she’s still showing up for it.
The Virtual Cup of Tea is an Indigenous-led circle of community members, all of whom represent organizations, that guides the Community Foundation’s Reconciliation funding. “The Foundation genuinely places decision-making in the hands of Indigenous community members,” Ashley says. “They give us the dollar amount, and we decide where it goes.”
“When Jennifer first invited us to meet and explained what the Community Foundation was offering as part of the Foundation’s Reconciliation efforts, it felt like a big ask,” she recalls. “We didn’t really know what it would look like. There’s a lot of accountability and responsibility we feel in that space, being part of the collective decision-making on how these funds are being used in community.”
Each year has looked a little different since the group first met in 2022: collaborative events, Indigenous Peoples Day initiatives, community projects and more. The work follows from open dialogue between the group’s members, the wider community, and Indigenous-led organizations; it’s never the product of a prescribed plan.
“That’s why it looks different every year,” Ashley says, “because it’s grounded in relationship.”
Part of what makes the Virtual Cup of Tea work, Ashley says, is that the Foundation’s Executive Director Jennifer DeBues has mindfully built relationships with each member of the group individually, showing up consistently and authentically.
“It’s not just a one-time thing that happens at a certain time of year,” Ashley says. “We talk to Jennifer all the time. We have an ongoing, reciprocal relationship.”
For organizations that want to move in this direction, she keeps her advice practical: show up, be consistent and patient, and share power. Don’t come in with a predetermined outcome.
“Moving beyond consultation and moving towards collaboration,” she says. “It really is as simple as that. But it takes some advocacy, some creativity, some innovation. We have to be open to doing things differently.”
Those same principles show up every day at the Peterborough Community Health Centre (PCHC), where Ashley serves as Executive Director.
The PCHC was built on the idea that the health centre doesn’t exist without the people who access it. That sounds obvious until you think about what it requires: not just a clinic with providers, but a space where someone who hasn’t had a positive experience with healthcare can walk in and feel like it was built for them.
That has meant thinking about what’s on the walls, what colours to use, and whether the space reflects the people it serves. Sometimes it means something more immediate.
“If you haven’t had a meal and you don’t know where your next one is coming from, accessing health care can be really hard,” Ashley says.
Someone who shows up a day after their appointment isn’t turned away. The response is: let’s find someone to help you. The PCHC offers clients a cup of coffee, a bowl of soup, or a sandwich. Gestures like this, that might seem out of place in a traditional healthcare setting, go a long way toward determining whether a person feels safe and secure during their visit.
“Those things seem small,” she says, “but they can have such a huge impact on how a person is feeling and whether or not they will come back.”
Alongside the primary care team, the PCHC has a wellness team that includes social workers, systems navigators, and an Indigenous cultural wellness coordinator. They work collaboratively with clients on everything from replacing a lost health card to transportation supports to counselling. The Centre also has a grief group and a Trans ID Clinic, services the community has asked for.
“We’re trying to be responsive to what we’re hearing the needs are,” Ashley says.
One of the Centre’s most tangible aspirations involves a birch bark canoe.
When the PCHC’s main reception space was being designed, they deliberately built additional structural supports into the ceiling so a canoe could one day be displayed there. The birch bark canoe carries teachings about the human body, about interconnection and health. In a clinical space that welcomes Indigenous Knowledge, that kind of presence matters.
They’re still looking for the right one. A few leads have come in since the project went public, but the size and fit has to be right. That’s just the beginning. The team’s bigger dream is to bring a canoe builder into the wellness space and have community members drop by over time, watching it take shape bit by bit until it’s ready to be displayed.
“It’s about creating meaningful representation,” Ashley says. “A less clinical space. One that truly honours the territory and the place we’re on, as well as the connections to the human body that the canoe teaches us.”
Asked what gives her hope, Ashley doesn’t hesitate. “The willingness of people and organizations to come together in new ways.”
She sees it in Peterborough, in the partnerships forming around housing insecurity, food security, and the rising cost of living. In people asking hard questions about what they’re doing, whether it’s working, and what they might try instead.
“What really does community mean?” she asks. “At the end of the day, it’s about connection. It’s about relationship. It’s about recognizing that we can’t do it alone.”
For Ashley, the Virtual Cup of Tea is evidence that the answer to that question can look like something genuinely new: a circle of people who started meeting over screens during a pandemic, that get together years later and is still building something together.
All programming at the Peterborough Community Health Centre is free and open to the community. You don’t need to be a registered client. Visit www.ptbochc.ca to find the program calendar and sign up for their newsletter. The PCHC is also actively seeking a birch bark canoe for their main gathering space. If you have a lead, reach out through the website.