Note: To report on a cash basis, Ci adjusted for deferred donations, capital contributions, fees for service, and government funding. This affected revenues by ($179k) in F2023, ($7k) in F2022, and ($96k) in F2021. Ci included unrealized investment income, affecting revenues by $6k in F2023, ($9k) in F2022, and ($17k) in F2021. Salary information relates to F2022, the most recent CRA T3010 filing year available at the time of this report.

Dear Reader:

Charity Intelligence uses a relentless data driven approach when rating charities and we are grateful to them for their exhaustive efforts. But the numbers don't always tell the story. As such, we thought we would profile a few of our students to give the reader a sense of who we work with, and their prodigious accomplishments at Boundless.

We have altered the names and a few details to protect the privacy of these precious Boundless kids.

Izzy – Irony of Ironies

Izzy, sometimes a they, at other times a she, came to us two years ago bearing the bone-crushing burden of her Metis ancestors.

They are the great-granddaughter of a man who stole a cow to feed his starving Manitoba family, was imprisoned, soon escaped, and then became Canada’s most wanted fugitive for a year, only to be captured and gunned down by the RCMP.

The trauma, and also the fierceness, are embedded in Izzy’s genetic code. Meaning, you don’t want to piss Izzy off. Nor do you want to ignore her heart. So open, indeed, that her affection and support bound the entire Boundless community together at critical moments.

Izzy told us, way back when Covid hit, that she was almost grateful for the virus because she could “hide behind my mask”. Later that year, she had to pull out of Boundless for two months because her mom passed away. Izzy had to sign the DNR order at the ripe old age of 18.

In spite of formidable learning and mental health issues, Izzy earned a full diploma at Boundless. Her tears at leaving us were like an existential waterfall.

Izzy Zoomed us just eight weeks later, shrieking with delight. They have been accepted into the Toronto police academy. It’s not the RCMP – maybe that comes later – but for this bundle of angst to join the ranks of any police force – well this may be a story of the world healing itself.

Maggy is Moving On

An immigrant from Jamaica, Maggy arrived in Toronto as a toddler along with her older siblings and mom and dad. They lived in poverty, but her parents kept the family together. She tearfully remembers her dad as “Mr. Music”. He died eight months before she arrived at Boundless. Her life was shattered.

Maggy, a keenly sharp knife in any drawer, did not fit with her mainstream school, an institution that is well attuned to the needs of struggling learners; but with limited resources, can sometimes leave the gifted to fend for themselves.

When Mr. Music died, Maggy would not get out of bed. For months. She missed a year of school, and told us afterwards that she was just going to give up on academics altogether.

A caring, loving and heroically competent social worker somehow managed to woo Maggy to give Boundless a try.

Her first few months felt like she was attending a silent retreat. But Maggy was present. For everything. And then Sap arrived, a student that swept in from Iqaluit via Ottawa. Sap and Maggy became best buds in an instant, and drew each other out of their respective shells.

Maggy soon devoured our curriculum, excepting that darn biology credit which beguiled her to the end. Along with Izzy (above), she graduated with great honours and dignity. She leaves in her wake many embroideries, invaluable feedback for our Art curriculum, and connections to other continuing students who shall feel like the place is empty without her. 

She told us on the eve of her departure, “I must be moving on.”

Maggy plans to be a doctor or a nurse.

Quiche – Out of the Penalty Box

With his mom of Cree descent, and his father from Tobago, Quiche has grown up in an “in-between world,” according to his child and youth support worker from Toronto. “These kids are not fully accepted by either community.”

Quiche was floundering in mainstream school – basically not going - and on the cusp of trouble in his GTA neighbourhood. At the urging of his worker, he gave Boundless a try for 30 days. He clicked here, but remained distrustful, both of himself in his capacity to finish things he starts, and with all authority figures.

When offered a spot for the following September, he was quick to accept. But on day one, he stood us up. This is a big deal because there were other eager kids who could have filled his spot.

Sheepishly, he contacted us eight weeks later. “Things aren’t working out. Can I come back?”

We said no. We are leery about crying wolves. We would not be left hung out to dry again and deny a space to another student. This broke his heart. And yet, the weight of responsibility was felt by his impulsive decision, even one made by youngling without the maturity to make a choice of this magnitude.

When he persisted, we put him through the ringers in a 90-minute zoom. Our principal rolled the dice and asserted, “He’s been in the penalty box long enough.”

He has been with us ever since, with the understanding that he must earn his place here every day with selfless acts.

And he has. So much so that Quiche has become the first of two students now engaged in a five-year plan to train youth to become leaders at Boundless, and serve the same communities they represent.

He is slated to graduate at Boundless in December 2023.

After this, the sky’s the limit. He has already earned first aid credentials, and is now working on wilderness survival skills. In years 3-5, he’ll focus on teaching, facilitation and leadership. Much more to come, we hope, with this vanguard of a young man we affectionately call Quiche. But one year at a time.