Who Is DEEJAY T-JR.? The Scarborough Turntablist Who Built a Resume That Couldn’t Be Touched

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A Macedonian girl from the east end who didn’t speak English on her first day of school grew up to become the most decorated woman in DMC history. This is how she got there.

There is a question DEEJAY T-JR. wishes people would ask her more often. Not about the three consecutive DMC Canadian Championships, or the top-nine finish at the World Finals, or the fact that she is the only woman on earth to have competed at all four of the major international DJ battles.

“How did DEEJAY T-JR. become DEEJAY T-JR.?” she says. “Everybody sees and celebrates the results, but they don’t always see the person behind the DJ and everything that went into becoming who I am today.”

Here is the answer.

East side

She was born at Toronto East General Hospital, back when the area was still called East York, and raised in Scarborough, the sprawling east end of the city. In the endless east-versus-west argument that defines the Greater Toronto Area, she does not hedge. “I’m 100 percent east. Born and raised.”

Home was a classic brick bungalow shared with her parents and siblings, along with her grandparents and uncle Pande from her father’s side. Both sides of the family are Macedonian, and the household ran on Macedonian language, food, morals and values. “Nobody really spoke English at home, so when I started school, I didn’t actually know English, even though I was born in Canada.” She picked it up fast and went on to win a string of English awards at school.

It was a strict, traditional, deeply family-oriented house. Her grandfather walked her and her sister Linda to school every day, came to collect them at lunch for a home-cooked meal, and walked them back. “My parents were both working and we didn’t really believe in hiring babysitters, so living with extended family was truly a blessing. It takes a village to raise a child.”

She and her sister Linda are so close in age, and were so often dressed alike by their mother, that people still mistake them for twins. They read constantly, went to the dollar store with their father for colouring books and candy, and played outside, which in their case meant climbing onto the roof and walking around on it.

Chicho Pande

If the adults in the house were stoic, as she says East Europeans tend to be, there was one exception. Her uncle Pande, whom the kids called Chicho, the Macedonian word for a father’s brother, or just Cheech.

“He was the coolest uncle anyone could have asked for. He didn’t care about any so-called rules or social customs. He showed us so much love and affection. He wasn’t afraid to show emotion.” He wore beautiful tailored suits and gator shoes, drove Cadillacs with a three-seat front bench, and kept a serious vinyl and CD collection. He took the kids to the movies, drove them around the city, and brought them by his restaurant to see the nightlife.

He was also her first music teacher, though neither of them would have called it that. Music was not constantly playing in the house; with that many people under one roof, everyone respected each other’s space. Her father, who had played accordion back in Macedonia, kept Macedonian music on in the car. But in the basement, Chicho would sit with the kids for hours watching music documentaries. Michael Jackson, Madonna, Prince. “We’d watch Michael Jackson music videos together and he’d always give us the backstories and history behind them. We were learning classics without knowing it.”

When he was out, she would slip downstairs and borrow a few CDs at a time. Two of them she still owns: Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP and 2Pac’s Until the End of Time.

Pande has since passed. She mentions him, unprompted, more than once. “Rest in peace, Cheech.”

The other early influence came from her older cousins Chris and Peter, the cool cousins with the Hondas, the Air Max 90s and the basement man cave where football was always on. She was too intimidated to go down there when they were home, but she could always hear the hip hop coming up the stairs. The first record that stopped her cold was Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s “Got Your Money.” “I needed to know what it was. So when they weren’t home, I’d go down to the computer room and look for music on their computer, write down all the songs I wanted, and download them at home. I don’t think they know this. But now they will.”

Todorovski to aisle five

Her first job, around age 15, was at a grocery store, and it is where her name comes from.

The general manager, responsible for about 150 employees, noticed her work ethic quickly, and started calling for her over the store intercom by her last name. Todorovski to aisle five. Todorovski to the dairy department. “I thought it was the coolest thing to be addressed by your last name. It felt special and unique.”

His name was Zee, and he shortened hers to T. He became something like an older brother, someone she could go to about work, school, life, anything. They are still in touch today. When Zee left for a bigger job at another company, she referred her sister to him. Linda was the older one, so Zee called her T-Sr. and called T-JR. Junior.

By then she had bought turntables and needed a name. “I liked both nicknames, T and Junior, so I combined them. It sounded like a battle DJ name.” The Jr. carried more weight than that, though. “I’ve always loved the way athletes who share their father’s name use Jr. as a way of carrying on and honouring their family name. So for me, T-JR. became a way of honouring my father and my family while still creating a unique identity of my own. I’d never heard of a woman using Jr., so I also wanted to be the first girl to do it.”

The all-caps DEEJAY was a deliberate choice too. “It just felt right. I liked the original spelling. It looked good on flyers. DJ T-Jr. didn’t have quite the same feel.”

Death Star

She has a photo of the first time she ever touched a turntable. It was 2009, in a den that her mentor called the Death Star: two black Technics SL-1200MK2s, a Rane 57SL mixer, black-and-yellow KRK monitors, and shelves of records on either side.

She watched him mix vinyl and was, at first, only mildly interested. Then he scratched a Slick Rick vocal sample. “At that moment, I knew I had to get my own turntables. That moment changed everything for me.”

She bought her first pair in 2010. “I was a turntablist before I was a DJ. Initially I was only interested in learning how to scratch. I didn’t care about anything else.” She bought cheaper turntables first, hated them, sold them, and put the money toward her first pair of Technics and a Rane 56 mixer. “I knew I had to go big or go home.”

PULL QUOTE: “I was a turntablist before I was a DJ.”

What followed was less an apprenticeship than an obsession. “I knew nobody would be willing to help me unless they saw that I was serious. Why would they? So, I spent hours and hours practicing.” She sought feedback relentlessly. She recently found old emails to her friend DJ Cal, the DJ who taught her flares and opened up the world of advanced cuts, in which she attached Serato recordings of her scratches and asked him to critique them. “This is the level of obsession I had early on. I had to know.”

Every time she levelled up, another mentor seemed to appear. D-Scratch of the legendary Turnstylez crew was the first to show her how to beat juggle, and drilled into her the importance of funk. DJ Angelo’s YouTube tutorials from Europe broke scratches down in a way she could actually use; in 2024, at the DMC World Finals in Paris, she finally met him in person and thanked him. From Vekked, the DMC World Champion and one of her early influences, she learned how to push her technical limits. As Vekked once put it to her, it takes a village to raise a champion.

She studied the greats, DJ Premier, Craze, Q-Bert, DJ Dopey, A-Trak, the Invisibl Skratch Piklz, the Beat Junkies, the Turnstylez crew, but she wanted to develop her own style. “The way scratches are broken down these days, it’s down to a science. It’s very mathematical now. I always just went with feeling. I didn’t want to sound like anybody else.” Mixing she taught herself entirely, which is why she says her blending style is unmistakably her own.

Four jobs and a radio show

Before anyone knew her name, she was a student at the University of Toronto. She went in planning to become a doctor, realized medicine was not for her, and graduated with an Honours Bachelor of Science, double majoring in neuroscience and psychology. “And now I’ve got a doctorate in DJing,” she laughs.

She landed a Monday night show on the campus station, which she called Real Hip Hop. The slot was eleven at night to one in the morning, and she took it knowing she had to be up at six for work. She was usually working two to four jobs at any given time; during university it was four at once, sales, the grocery store, groundskeeping and tutoring. “Tuition and these turntables weren’t going to pay for themselves.”

Her first real gig was at the original Escobar on King Street, a password-only underground spot that was one of the few places in the city still playing real hip hop while trap ruled everywhere else. Her friend Deejay Midz played there and offered to split a night with her. After a few Serato glitches and driver installs, she was on. “I remember dropping ‘Shook Ones Pt. II’ by Mobb Deep and people went crazy. Seeing the crowd reaction for the first time was amazing. I was happy that they were happy.”

[PHOTO 3 / OPTIONAL: “Hype Magazine – Photo 3” (Hype Magazine folder). Caption: Real Hip Hop, Monday nights, eleven to 1 a.m., on University of Toronto Scarborough campus radio. Note: this file is only 38KB, so it is web-only and may look soft even there.]

A resume that couldn’t be touched

The obstacle she remembers most from the early years was a question. “So, where do you DJ?” “I didn’t like that I had to define myself as a DJ by tying myself to a venue. I always wanted to respond with, ‘My bedroom.'”

Telling people she was a scratch DJ meant little to anyone outside turntablism. So she decided to stop explaining and start building proof, and she went after the biggest stages in the world. She reached the 2016 IDA Canada Scratch Finals, DMC Canada East Coast Scratch Finals in 2016 and 2017, took third at the 2018 Red Bull 3Style Canada Finals in Vancouver, and finished in the top eight at the 2019 Goldie Awards in Brooklyn. “I wanted to build a resume that couldn’t be touched. I wasn’t going to explain myself anymore. This is who I am. This is what I do. Take it or leave it.”

On being a woman in a heavily male scene, she is matter-of-fact. “It definitely comes with its own challenges, but I never went into it thinking of it like that. It was never male versus female for me. It was always just about being a great DJ. I knew the territory I was getting into and I had to learn to navigate it without letting it distract me.”

In 2021 she entered the DMC Canada Classic category for the first time and placed second. In 2022 she won it. Then she won it again in 2023, becoming the first woman in DMC history to go back-to-back, and represented Canada at the 2023 DMC World Finals, finishing in the top nine. In 2024, despite a forearm injury weeks before nationals that required physiotherapy and a specialist consultation, she won a third straight title, the first woman ever to do so. Along the way she competed at the 2023 IDA World DJ Championships, completing a set of four majors no other woman has touched.

“Winning my first championship really put my name on the map. It was like winning an Olympic gold medal for your country, except the sport is DJing. It was the moment I realized DJing would become a full-time career for me.”

What a DEEJAY T-JR. set sounds like

Ask her to describe her style and she does not reach for genre. “Raw, unfiltered, unique, musical and powerful. You’re always going to get a dope style, selection and story with me. No matter what setting I’m in or what genre I’m playing, good selection has always been something I prioritize. You can’t really teach good taste. You either got it or you don’t.”

That instinct has earned her a standing place on one of the most respected DJ-first stages in North America, Skratch Bastid’s annual Bastid’s BBQ, which she has played five times. Bastid, she says, is now a mentor and a big brother, and the only DJ she will play back-to-back with.

Her weeks now run on a Google calendar. Gym, meal prep, practice, routine development, family time, meetings, emails, gigs and, since she stepped away from competing, running DMC Canada as its branch manager alongside Vekked. “Once you work for yourself, everything changes. If you don’t get things done, nothing gets done. Instead of being just a creative, you’re now a shark. If it’s not in my Google calendar, it’s not happening.”

The accomplishment she is proudest of has nothing to do with trophies. “Staying true to myself. In this industry there’s pressure coming from all directions, to follow trends, take certain opportunities, present yourself a certain way. I’ve been able to stand my ground and say no to things that don’t align with me, my faith, my values and the type of artist I am. Success isn’t just about what I’ve accomplished. It’s about how I’ve accomplished it.”

Has she ever come close to quitting? “There are going to be highs and lows. It’s all part of the journey, and the best thing I ever did was keep going. When things get difficult, I remember the good things I have in my life: God, my health, my family and friends. My whole thing is, don’t stay in the valley too long.” She quotes Lorenzo from A Bronx Tale: the saddest thing in life is wasted talent.

The people

She is careful to name the corner. Her sister Linda, first and always. “She’s been on the sidelines cheering me on since the beginning, and that’s worth more than anything.” Her brother Danny, for encouraging her to pursue her passion. Her parents, for taking care of them all. And the men she calls her chosen brothers: Zee, DJ Cal, D-Scratch, Vekked, Skratch Bastid and Deejay Midz. “They’ve each played an important role in my life, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without them.”

What’s next

Stepping away from the battle circuit has freed her to chase what she put on hold for years: original music, touring, teaching, and building as an entrepreneur. “I feel like I’m entering a new chapter, and there’s a lot I want to accomplish.”

As for the long game, she already knows what she wants people to say. “I want people to remember DEEJAY T-JR. as someone who cared, pushed the culture forward, and never stopped raising the bar. I want my legacy to be bigger than the titles and awards. If, twenty years from now, someone hears my name and thinks, ‘She was a real one. She changed the game and inspired me to go after it,’ then I’ve done my job.”

DEEJAY T-JR. is a three-time DMC Canadian Champion (2022, 2023, 2024), a 2023 DMC World Finals top-nine finisher, and the branch manager of DMC Canada. Find her at deejaytjr.com and @deejaytjr on Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, X and Twitch.

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