When Thi Nancy Huynh’s family immigrated to Canada from Vietnam in the 1980s, they looked forward to the opportunity to build something new.
They settled in Toronto’s Jane and Finch neighbourhood, Huynh’s home for the next 24 years.
“It shaped everything about who I am—how I approach teaching, my research and my community work,” says Huynh, who is set to graduate with a doctoral degree from the University of Toronto Faculty of Kinesiology and Physical Education this fall. “It’s a place full of genuine people trying to navigate a new system together.”
Huynh began her academic journey as the first in her family to attend university. She earned a Bachelor of Kinesiology from KPE before moving to York University for both her Bachelor and Master of Education; she obtained the latter while also teaching full-time.
“That was intense—I don’t recommend it unless you have a strong heart,” she jokes.
Huynh then returned to KPE for doctoral studies, although she says that a PhD wasn’t originally part of the plan.
“It wasn’t something I thought I would do—and, to be completely honest, not a place that I felt I could belong,” she says. “But during my master’s, I realized there was a gap—I kept seeing how youth with intellectual disabilities didn’t have access to meaningful physical education in high school.
“I decided that the work was more important than my fear and that maybe I was the right person to work on this.”
She reached out to KPE Professor Kelly Arbour-Nicitopoulos, who eventually became her PhD supervisor.
“Nancy arrived at my door with a fully formed plan,” says Arbour-Nicitopoulos, who specializes in physical activity and disability. “That’s not typical for PhD students, but she knew exactly what she wanted to research, and how she wanted to approach it.”
Huynh’s doctoral project draws directly from both research and lived experience. During her time as a teacher at Westview Centennial Secondary School—the same school she attended as a teenager—she noticed that students with intellectual and developmental disabilities were often left out of structured physical education entirely.
“Unlike most, these students didn’t have a specialized physical education course with a qualified teacher,” she explains. “Their homeroom teachers—who aren’t trained in physical education—were expected to lead those sessions.
“It wasn’t fair.”
Huynh worked with students (with and without disabilities), teachers, educational assistants, administrators and community organizations like Special Olympics Ontario to co-develop a five-unit high school curriculum. The course emphasizes fundamental movement skills, physical literacy, body awareness and wellness.
“It’s individualized, inclusive and designed to be implemented by any teacher,” says Huynh. “Everyone participates equally.
“There’s no ‘helper and helped’ dynamic, and everyone’s there to learn and grow.”
The Mixed Abilities Physical Education course curriculum is set to be piloted in 2027, with plans to collect data on outcomes such as physical activity levels, socialization and well-being. If successful, the goal is to scale the program board-wide.
Huynh credits Arbour-Nicitopoulos for supporting her strengths and expanding her perspective through community-based partnerships. She also found support through groups like Sisters Insiders, a collective for racialized women in academia led by Janelle Joseph, a former faculty member of KPE now teaching at Brock University and founder of the IDEAS research lab.
“That group came at a time when I felt like I didn’t fit in,” Huynh says. “It reminded me that I do belong—and that I have the power to shape these spaces, too.”
Huynh defended her PhD thesis in June and soon after started a new role as assistant professor, teaching stream, at York University’s School of Kinesiology and Health Science, just around the corner from her old neighbourhood at Jane and Finch.
“This is a real full circle moment for me and I am so grateful," Huynh says. "I’m looking forward to creating partnership and mentorship opportunities between the community and academia."
Asked to reflect on what graduating means to her, Huynh has a threefold answer.
“First, it’s an act of love for myself—an investment in my growth,” she says. “Second, it’s an homage to my parents, who sacrificed so much for us and third, it’s for my community—for kids in places like Jane and Finch, Parkdale and Rexdale.
“I want them to see that it’s possible.”