On November 8th, many Canadians honour the memory of Viola Desmond, a Black businesswoman whose face graces our ten-dollar bill. But beyond her portrait lies a deeper, more complex truth — one that reminds us that history’s heroes are not always volunteers for their battles.
Viola Desmond was a successful entrepreneur and educator. She owned a beauty salon in Halifax and founded the Desmond School of Beauty Culture, empowering Black women to achieve economic independence in an era when opportunities were scarce. She helped them embrace their beauty in a time and culture that did not embrace their natural hair types, styles, and skin color. Her life seemed to be one of quiet excellence until one evening, in 1946, while traveling, she unknowingly sat in a section of the Roseland Theatre reserved for white people. She bought a ticket and sat on the main floor, not realizing (at first) that the theatre was racially segregated; white spectators sat on the main floor, and Black spectators were restricted to the balcony.
When she sat on the main floor, there were still seats available in the balcony, but she refused to move when the staff told her she was not allowed to sit downstairs. She offered to pay the difference in price (since balcony seats cost less), but they refused. When she refused to move, she was forcibly removed, jailed overnight, and charged on a false pretext- charged with attempting to defraud the provincial government based on her alleged refusal to pay a one cent tax. Ultimately, it was not about the tax…or the 1 cent; it was about race.
Many believe Viola set out to challenge segregation, but the truth is simpler and sadder. She hadn’t intended to make a statement; she was simply seeking fairness and dignity. Yet her response to that injustice sparked a movement. The case revealed how racism in Canada operated not through written laws, but through unwritten customs enforced by prejudice. Viola’s effort to clear her name inspired others to speak up, even though it cost her deeply. She lost her business, her marriage, and her peace of mind. She eventually left Nova Scotia, and lived quietly here in Montreal before later settling in New York, far from the life she once built.
Viola’s story reminds us that injustice often hides behind laws and customs rooted in sin and inequality. Even when human systems fail, God’s justice never sleeps. Like the prophet Micah wrote, we are called “to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8). Viola’s quiet courage reflected this truth — she sought fairness not through vengeance, but by standing her ground in dignity.
The Bible tells us, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Exodus 14:14). Viola didn’t plan to fight a nation’s racism, yet her stillness in the face of injustice became a turning point. Also, like Queen Esther, who found herself in a position “for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14), Viola’s moment of courage, though unplanned, became part of God’s greater story for justice and equality in Canada.
Her official government pardon and apology, issued in 2010, decades after her death, a gesture long-overdue; but also a reminder that honour and restoration come in God’s timing. A resounding echo that God’s divine justice never forgot Viola Desmond’s name and neither should we. When you hold a purple 10$ bill … REMEMBER … lest we forget.
Viola’s story shows us that doing what is right doesn’t always come with applause but sometimes it comes with pain, isolation, and misunderstanding. Yet even through suffering, God uses ordinary people to reveal extraordinary truths.
She could have remained silent or simply accepted the injustice, but she chose to stand firm in what was right. Like Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Babylon. God can use anyone, even someone simply living their daily life, to spark change that reaches far beyond their lifetime.
As this country commemorates her on November 8th, let’s remember the whole truth. Let’s teach our children not just about her courage, but also about her dignity, her loss, and her quiet strength. To teach the next generation of young black boys and girls that they too can stand firm in truth, in the face of injustice; even when it costs them something.
Today, when racial injustice, economic inequality, and quiet discrimination still exist in new forms, Viola’s story invites us to pray, to speak truth, and to act. Not because we seek recognition, but because God calls us to righteousness.
Have you felt the tug of God calling you to stand and to do the right things even if it looks hard, complicated, messy and may cost you something?
Honouring Viola Desmond is not about remembering a heroine; but understanding that sometimes the greatest victories are born from pain we never chose and grace we never expected.
Scripture often calls God’s people to remember His acts of justice and mercy so that future generations will not forget (Deuteronomy 6:12; Psalm 78:4). Readers, I pray you can see Viola’s story in its fullness, not as a fairytale of triumph, but as a testimony of perseverance and how God redeems even the hardest chapters of our lives.
The Truth Behind the Ten-Dollar Bill
