My name is Yu-Ching Mo (my Chinese name in Mandarin), and I am a pastor who cares deeply about the community and offers spiritual/pastoral counseling to those in need. I was recently interviewed by Sing Tao Daily about why I always carry a naloxone (Narcan) kit with me. To me, this small kit is more than a medical tool—it is a symbol. A symbol of accompaniment, compassion, and the commitment never to turn away.

I am not a healthcare professional, nor am I a drug policy expert. What I do have is a heart willing to walk alongside others, a calling to stand in the shadows with those who are struggling. As a pastor, I believe every person is created by God with inherent dignity, value, and the potential to start anew. I don’t carry naloxone because I expect someone to overdose—I carry it because I don’t want anyone to lose their life due to society’s indifference or stigma.

People often ask me, “You’re a pastor—why are you involved in public health matters like this?” I believe that if our faith only lives on the pulpit or behind church walls, and never walks among the people, then it is hollow. Jesus walked among the sick, the outcasts, the marginalized. He never turned away from human suffering. As one who follows Christ, I also want to walk into those spaces of pain, loneliness, and brokenness.

I know many in our community still hold strong biases against people who use drugs. There’s deep skepticism about safe injection sites or harm reduction policies. I understand the concerns. But I hope we can begin shifting our mindset—from asking how to punish, to asking how to restore. Harm reduction isn’t about condoning drug use—it’s about accepting reality and giving people a chance to survive, even when they’re not yet ready or able to stop. It’s about loving them first, just as Jesus did, before telling them, “Go and sin no more.”

Behind every person who uses drugs is a story—one that rarely begins in joy. It often begins with trauma, loneliness, neglect, and misunderstanding. If we only see the syringe and miss the pain, the wound, and the human being, we risk deepening the very hurt we should be healing. But if we approach with compassion, listen with humility, and respond with care, we might help someone find their way back.

I’m also concerned that here in Richmond—and across British Columbia—public policy has leaned too heavily on harm reduction, while neglecting the other three essential pillars: prevention, enforcement, and treatment. We need a balanced and holistic strategy. We need to reintroduce effective drug prevention education in schools. We need to improve public awareness through media and community outreach. And we need to make treatment more accessible and affordable, especially for those who feel most abandoned.

When it comes to harm reduction, we often think it’s something only professionals can do. But that’s not true. Naloxone kits are free and available to the public. Anyone can be a lifesaver. But we do need to learn how to use them. I encourage everyone to take a short training—learn when and how to safely administer naloxone. Because when we know how to use it, what we’re holding isn’t just medication—it’s a chance at life, a doorway to healing, and maybe even a turning point in someone’s story.

I carry naloxone because I refuse to stand by and do nothing. I know I can’t save everyone. But carrying this kit reminds me of who I am—a pastor, yes, but more importantly, a companion. Someone who chooses to see, to listen, and to stay. I’m not just a church leader; I’m a practitioner of faith, a member of this shared community.

You might be thinking, “But I’m not an expert—I don’t know how to help.” The truth is, you don’t need to be an expert. You can show care. You can listen. You can stand by someone who is struggling. You can choose not to walk away. Sometimes, asking “Are you okay?” is more powerful than you imagine.

In a world that feels so fragmented and wounded, may we choose not to point fingers or look away—but to carry each other, to show up, to stay close. Because at some point, all of us will need someone to walk with us. And all of us can become the one holding the naloxone kit—for someone else.

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If you read Chinese, here is the link to read the interview: https://www.singtao.ca/7121036/?variant=zh-hk&appedition=vancouver

Here is the translated version:

Community Counselor Mo Yu-Ching: Why I Always Carry a Naloxone Kit

(Translated from the original article by reporter Chen Yifen, Sing Tao Daily)

Mo Yu-Ching, who has long been engaged in community service, always carries a naloxone kit with him. In his line of work, he often encounters individuals who use drugs. In critical moments, this small kit can save lives. “You know how fast it happens—muscle stiffening, seizures, coma, and death from overdose. Everything unfolds rapidly, and giving naloxone immediately can save a living, breathing human being,” he said.

Mo points out that many Chinese community members hold deep biases against people who use drugs. When discussions arise about safe injection sites or safer supply programs, some criticize these initiatives, suggesting that the government is enabling drug use or “nurturing addicts.” But that’s not what these policies are about.

“No one wants to encourage drug use,” he said. “It’s about saving lives. Some people live in poverty, suffer from low self-esteem, or lack access to information. They end up using drugs in dark alleys or behind closed doors, increasing the risk of overdose. These policies are attempts to address those realities.”

(The proposed safe injection site in Richmond was eventually scrapped due to strong public opposition.)

Mo acknowledges that the “four pillars” approach to drug policy has become unbalanced. The four pillars—Prevention, Enforcement, Treatment, and Harm Reduction—were designed to work in tandem. But in recent years, resources have overwhelmingly gone to harm reduction.

“The government seems stuck in the mindset of ‘just don’t let people die,’ while not investing enough in helping people recover from addiction,” he explained. “This has created further social divisions.”

With drug policy becoming a hot topic in the federal election, political parties are now focusing heavily on “enforcement” and “treatment.” Mo emphasizes that we must not forget prevention.

“Prevention requires education,” he said. “I remember in high school we were frequently taught not to drink and drive. They would even bring in speakers who had lost their legs due to drunk driving—hearing from real people made a strong impact. You’d also see public service announcements on the topic all the time. In contrast, we rarely see anti-drug education or messaging today. We should be producing more videos and working with influencers on social media to promote awareness.”

Mo also asked, “Schools used to run the D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) program. But in recent years, that seems to have disappeared. Why did we stop doing it?”

Last year, B.C.’s “Concerned Citizens for Safe Communities” launched a petition calling for mandatory drug education in primary and secondary schools, recommending the return of D.A.R.E., which is taught by RCMP officers.

Chinese Canadian parents have also called on the government to change its current policies. Some urge mandatory treatment for teens struggling with substance use and ask for more involvement in counseling alongside addiction specialists.

As a father himself, Mo understands these concerns. But he cautions that “forced treatment isn’t always effective. Today’s younger generation isn’t like the previous one. They don’t necessarily obey their parents, and they often reject top-down control. So, figuring out how to support and guide them toward recovery is crucial.”

He suggests the government establish more youth-specific treatment centers. “Don’t make them feel like they’re locked in a cage. Give them a communal, healthy environment where they can build emotional strength and recover alongside peers walking the same path.”