Thank you for joining me today. I have been looking forward to this conversation for some time.
Who is Paul Smith and what are you most passionate about?
Three words. Husband, father, sailor. Tall, dark and handsome, whichever you want to pick (laughs). I am a 56-year-old naval officer serving in the Royal Canadian Navy. I was born in Jamaica and grew up in Toronto. I moved away to go to university on the East Coast. I’d already joined the Naval Reserves at that time. After university, I decided I wanted to sail full-time. As a reservist in the Royal Canadian Navy, you have the opportunity to sail on a full-time basis. I started sailing on the HMCS Skeena first and then a few Naval Reserve ships and found that despite all the seasickness, despite the long, long watches and short nights, I actually enjoyed it.
I enjoyed the travel. I enjoyed the camaraderie and the people we met. I was too young to say the importance of being at sea is this or that, but I enjoyed it. It led to a 37-year career, the height of which was commanding two warships, HMCS Kingston and HMCS Summerside, from 2014 to 2017. I led a whole bunch of missions that I really enjoyed, including my first deployment to the Gulf of Guinea region, West Coast of Africa, with the Royal Canadian Navy in 13 years. It has been rewarding both professionally and personally.
What inspired you to join the Navy?
That’s an interesting story. So, growing up in Toronto, especially back then, we were aware of the Army, but nobody knew about the Navy. Certainly, nobody in my family. There’s no military service history in my family. To answer your question, I joined the Naval Reserve on a $50 bet. We were sitting around the cafeteria in high school talking about summer employment, and a kid named Jordan approached the group. He said he had done this Navy training summer program the year before but then challenged me. He said, ‘But it’s too tough for you, Paul. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to complete it.’ You know, being the cocky 17, 18-year-old that I was at the time, I said, ‘Sure I can. Of course I can.’ I took a bus from North York to downtown Toronto that afternoon and walked around HMCS York a few times before I found the front door. I thought that was the intelligence test, and I was failing. Then, I went inside and asked them what this summer program was about. They explained a little bit and told me how much I would make, and I signed up that day. So, initially, it was a summer job. The program was basic training, but it’s done in the city, so you didn’t have to go away.
There’s a little bit of field time associated with it, but for the most part, it’s just the workday in downtown Toronto. I was working at Kmart at the time, and a friend who also worked at Kmart and both hated it. We decided we were going to do it together. That was the reason I joined. The reason for staying was the experiences that I had that first summer, the people I got to meet, and the opportunities that were shown to me that I had no idea even existed, including the chance to travel. I really looked forward to it. Back then, when you completed your summer youth employment program, which is what it was called, you had to wait for a callback in the fall to see if you were fully enrolled. Now, when you sign up, you’re in, and they find the time. This was just a try before you buy. So I remember sitting on pins and needles at home until I got the phone call when I was offered a position as a naval combat information operator. You know, I was a young kid. I thought everything from the uniform to the experience and everything in between was great!
You are the first black commander of the HMCS York. What does that mean to you?
It means a lot that I get to command York. It’s the unit where I joined. It’s the reason I’m in the Navy. It’s the start of the adventure, and only a few people get to, you know, come back home in that fashion. So, after 30-plus years away, I am happy to return and take command. I mean, the Royal Canadian Navy does not have a large black population. Fewer still are commissioned officers. I am the only one that’s ever commanded a Royal Canadian Navy ship. When I took command of HMCS Kingston in 2014, I was the first black commanding officer of a ship in Canada. For various different reasons, not that I kept it secret, but it was never known. You know, not that anyone ever really checked. A few months in, I had coffee with a friend who is a former commanding officer, and he said, ‘You know, I think you’re the first black CO.’ I said, ‘I think it might be, but I’m not sure.’ That raised the question, and then the Directorate of History checked and realized I was the first.
Initially, I want to stay away from the PR aspect because it sometimes puts it in a negative light, but it was good for the black community in Halifax. I think it was good for the military community, the BIPOC military community. You know, there are pros and cons to being one. You’re automatically in the One Strike Club if you weren’t before. Everybody’s watching. People are asking questions. Did he get his command because he was black? I was fortunate to have a ship’s company that didn’t care one way or another. It was just about completing the missions, and that’s where my focus was. The senior members of the Navy saw an opportunity to expand their reach and diversify. So, based on that, I had the chance to do some speaking engagements in black communities and other spaces. I left the ships in 2017, did a couple of jobs and ended up as the acting commandant of the Naval Fleet School Atlantic. Here again, another first. First black commandant of the Naval Fleet School. I left there and came to York, where I became the first black commanding officer. Initially, I thought it was great that I could look at the changes that the Navy had been making, and I was seeing more and more black officers, both male and female, coming up, but I don’t know if anybody that’s at the command level yet certainly not for ships. I’m just talking about ships and life at sea. We have some senior black officers already in other capacities.
Do you feel you are paving the way for others who may follow?
That’s for others to say after the fact. I’m just trying to do my job. Do my job well, and continue to be of value to the Royal Canadian Navy. It’s always on my mind if there’s an opportunity to make some change somewhere, there’s an opportunity to set an example somewhere so that anybody coming behind has, I don’t want to say, an easier route because it’s a demanding occupation, but a route will say less bothered by race. I really believe that you need to see it to be it and I think that’s a little bit of the problem that we have in the Canadian Armed Forces writ large. There are people of colour who would ask, for example, why would I want to walk in a room full of people who don’t look like me, who don’t understand me and who don’t know me? They may think, culturally, it will be difficult for me. I believe the Naval Reserve is a lot different than the regular force. The Naval Reserve in Toronto is different from anywhere else in the Canadian Armed Forces I have been. We live in the most diverse city, and I’m currently running the most diverse unit. It’s not a surprise. I mean, we have people from all cultures, faiths, and occupations all coming together to make the unit work. So, if anybody wants to see an example of true diversity, come to York; you’ll definitely see it here.
What would you say has been the most challenging and the most inspiring aspects of being in the Navy?
I have to set my career in different periods. I joined as a non-commissioned member. I worked my way up to Petty Officer second class. Then I switched over and became an officer, took my commission, but started off at the bottom of a different ladder, working my way up to command and to where I am now. So initially, one of the most challenging parts, and the common theme about being at sea that long, was being away from family. Being away from home. The amount of time that I spent at sea is a lot. You don’t see it in a typical career, but because I had those two separate careers, the number of days I spent at sea was doubled what they usually should be. Kudos to Ms. Mary Leppard (my wife) for raising two fantastic boys while I was at sea. Then, there was the time and effort spent preparing for and writing the command boards. The command boards don’t exist anymore. They’ve transitioned to a course-based, selection-based, performance-based thing, where you do a command development course, you’re assessed by commanding officers and by the CO of your ship as to whether or not you should be in the command stream. Then, somewhere along the line, you get selected for command. When I was doing it, there was a series of exams that had to be written. Once you had written those exams and finally passed all of them, you were eligible to go to a board. That Board consisted of a fleet commander or a deputy fleet commander and three currently serving commanding officers grilling you for about three hours on navigation, warfare, engineering, operations, you name it. The understanding is that if you pass the Board, you’re ready to command a ship the next day. That was also the level for minor warships, and the frigates; passing the Board meant you were ready to become an executive officer and fill in those gaps until a command became available.
That process was a big challenge for me. It was designed also as a weeding-out process in that it wasn’t forced on you. It is weeded out by who wants command. You have to make time to study because you’re still doing all this work that everyone else is doing, so you have to make time to study for these exams. You’ve got to order these exams. You got to write them. You had to set up all the schedules and put your name on the Board. The process is designed to show that you want this command. I passed on my fourth attempt. My first attempt lasted 15 minutes of the whole three hours before we all agreed that I wasn’t ready.
I was still treating it as an academic exercise; if you do that, you’ll always fail the Board. They know what you know because you’ve reached this level. You passed the exam, so the academic portion is taken up. They want to know what Paul Smith would do, not what you’ve learned from the other COs, but what you would do and why it is your decision. There are some right and wrong questions, but for the most part, it’s how you would, as a captain, choose to interpret this. On my second Board, I got close. The third one, I didn’t even want to be there. The fourth one is when I realized I would get it because you get to the point where you feel insulted that these people are questioning your decisions. At one point, I was asking them questions. Why would you do it that way? That doesn’t make any sense. You need to do this. You need to consider this. The board chair said, “Okay, Mr. Smith, we’re moving on to the next question. You get to that level of confidence and understanding of what command means and can help it succeed. So, I passed on my fourth time, and a couple weeks later, I made my change of command, took over HMS Kingston, and sailed the next day. Usually, you get some time to settle in, review the personnel records, and determine what sort of team you’re working with, but for me, it was back to sea the very next day for a training mission.
You were ready at that point.
Sure, let’s go with that. (laughs) For anybody in a leadership position, imposter syndrome always creeps in and extends to the command of a ship or, you know, just most leadership roles. The first day working without a safety net was a little difficult for me. We were supposed to depart for a training mission, but it’s Halifax, so it was an extremely foggy day with zero visibility. There was a problem with Halifax traffic reporting where all the boats are, so you can’t get an accurate plot. Part of their stations were down. So, I was leaving for the first time by myself with zero visibility, not sure who was where, brand new crew, doing this all on my own, and I thought, “Well, good. We get all the hard stuff out of the way, so let’s do this, and then it’ll get better. Fortunately, it did.
If you could go back in time from today, what advice would you give to your younger self?
I’m a happy and contented guy, so I would pop in and whisper in my younger self’s ear, ‘ It’ll be okay.’ Fill in whatever it is; it’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out. A lot of the worrying that I did and what most people do is worrying about the unknown, the what-ifs. So hearing a comforting “it’ll be okay” would go a long way. It certainly would have for me.
Earlier you used the phrase, you have to see it to be it. I spoke with someone recently, and they said, ‘If you don’t see it, create it.’ Which one resonates more with you?
They’re both very valid. The motivation of if you don’t see it, create it is great for people who have the tools, the knowledge and the ability to make that creation. I certainly wasn’t going to be creating anything, you know, as a summer youth employment program individual. There was a lot of diversity at the unity when I joined, but when I got out to the coast, I didn’t see anybody like me. I still wanted to stay in, but by the same token, I wasn’t creating anything. There are subtle differences between the two that have to do with what you are, where you are, what you hope to achieve and the type of person you are. Not everybody is wired to create it. I sit on a couple of national scholarship selection committees, and one has a particular description of the type of student they’re looking for. They say some people can find the door and walk through on their own; some will carry others through the door with them. That’s wonderful, but that’s not the type of person this institution wants. They want the person who will ask, why there’s not another door over here? They build the door so more people can get on the other side. That has always inspired me. So, when I speak about diversity in the Navy, and I’ve talked to some senior people about it, that’s what we need to do. That’s what we need to work on. You know, empowering, especially BIPOC youth, not only to get in the door but also to have that kind of cognitive diversity, you’re putting more firepower into creating that other door that wasn’t there before. I hope that’s what I’m doing with the talks at some level. But again, that’s for others to judge later on.
Since meeting you, I’ve been fascinated by the story of the No.2 Construction Battalion. Please share a little about them and why they are important.
They’re extremely important because they are a big part of Canadian history. It’s not just black history; it’s Canadian history, right? It’s a big part of our heritage that people don’t know. At least, people in Canada don’t know. We just talked about creating doors where none exist. Here’s a group of people who wanted to fight to defend their country, the freedoms, and the beliefs of the country and were told, no, you can’t go give your life overseas because we don’t trust you; that this is a white man’s war. At the time, there were people who were dodging their responsibilities to serve. Yet these people wanted to serve and were told that they couldn’t. Undaunted, they just kept fighting, and they kept fighting and said, we want to serve. We want to do this. We want to do this for our country. Finally, they were allowed to serve, and the number two construction battalion was formed.
I mean, there were black service members in other places around the same time on a limited basis, but this was the first formed group of all-black men who went overseas to fight even though, as you know, they were not allowed any actual weapons. Their weapons were the shovels and axes they used to cut down trees and then used the wood to build trenches. They cleared the roadways and made sure the supply lines remained open. In a way, they were doing this for people who didn’t consider them human beings. Yet they did it anyway because they knew it was the right thing to do. They did it in service to their country. They were saying I want to do this to protect what I think this country can be. Their story is very inspiring to me. It’s an incredibly inspiring story that we just don’t talk about, and we need to talk about it, you know, a lot more.
We need to do so, especially for the youth, to understand it’s a source of pride for all black Canadians. I admire their tenacity and their desire to serve. We’re at a point now where people want to serve on their terms. When they want to and how they want to, it’s causing a little bit of strife. There must be some standard understanding of service. This is what you’re joining, putting on the uniform to do. We can have discussions about institutional change, but at the end of the day, when you join, you’re writing a check-up, including the cost of your life. They understood that
It didn’t come easy for them, and when they got overseas, they found out the job required backbreaking labour in unimaginable conditions far away from home to see the success of the war. Then, to go back home having no medals received, no acknowledgement, nothing. Just being disbanded and sent back home without anybody knowing the pivotal role they played. It’s a great story that I think should be better known. There are a lot of stories like that in our history.
We were talking about the deployment I made over to Africa, that we got to Sierra Leone. At the time, very few people knew that Freetown, Sierra Leone, was founded by a group called the Nova Scotian Settlers. Freed slaves from the American Revolutionary War who used the underground railroads to come to Halifax didn’t like the lands they were given years later and petitioned for three ships to take them to a new homeland. Britain said, would you mind helping us settle what is now Sierra Leone?
So when I had an opportunity to go there, I traced those steps in history and realized very little is known on this side of the Atlantic. Yet, when I get to Sierra Leone, I’ve got young school children performing a play about the founding of their country on our ship. The top student was the one who was allowed to play a Nova Scotian. She was so proud to be able to carry the Nova Scotia flag. This incredible story is well known in Sierra Leone because of the founding of their country, but nobody knew about it on our side. I was very happy to bring that forward in the news to raise the knowledge of other things Canadians have done that people weren’t aware of, specifically black Canadians. Our history seems to get lost, so we need torchbearers to keep it going so everybody understands what we did and how well we did it.
What’s next for Paul Smith?
In a military context, I will stay here at York for at least another year. I consider myself semi-retired, having left the Regular force before coming to YORK. After leaving command of Summerside, I was looking for that spark; I call it the fire in the belly, something that I desperately want to do that will get me out of bed in the morning. I think we’re all looking for that. I am trying to find what that next challenge will be, but it might not be in uniform.
May I suggest that you do motivational speaking and that, in some way, you share these inspirational stories?
I would love to. It is a passion of mine to bring that history and knowledge, my personal military leadership experience, to public speaking. But I’m not sure what that next adventure will be or what it will look like. There are also a couple of other things I would like to do in uniform. I would like to do one more deployment outside of Canada. I am getting old. (laughs) It’s great to be in a position to be able to make this one career decision with Mary. Right? Like two of us sitting down and figuring out where we want to go, as opposed to me just telling her where I’ve been posted next.
I am confident that you will continue to inspire whatever you do and wherever you are.
Thank you so much for your kind words.
Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.