I suppose I've spent long enough under a rock since Black Monday (election night). It's time to come out of hiding.
The news of the Harper majority came as a shock to many of us, even though as activists, lefty professionals and scholars, we're all-too-familiar with the incredible force of the Conservative machine. What happened? Who is doing this to our country? What is going to happen to my rights? When will the foundations for the new prisons, infrastructure that will scar the Canadian landscape forever, be laid? What is going to happen to universities? In the days following the headlines, I felt numb and on the verge of tears, comforted only by friends who also confessed to feeling personally hurt and to crying into their cereal bowls on Tuesday morning.
This sunny Thursday morning, I bumped into our silver lining (Elizabeth May!) at the Bridgehead on Sparks and Metcalfe (the same Bhead, I should add, where I ran into Judith Jack Halberstam and Sheila Copps. WHY DO I EVER LEAVE THAT PLACE?!). She gracefully expressed her condolences and mutual grief and shock at the majority government and I felt a spark of love in my soul for the first time in weeks (thanks, Jeremy, for pushing me into her!!).
Following this pleasant run-in, I proceeded to the Hill with my homemade sign for the peaceful Pro-Choice Presence rally at anti-choice march ("for life"). Well, there went the love. Strong police presence, angry shouts and booing... In hindsight, it may not have been productive toward my rebuilding activist passion to attend this event (the kids and Knights of Columbus march by my window shouting "created to live"as I write this). To the east of the Hill with my "I love life, I love choice" sign, I stood with my friends and looked over a sea of children beautifully singing worship songs...
The sheer loveliness of the children's voices soaring into the sunlight was enough to move me to tears of nostalgia, but the joy and innocence of that beautiful youth choral sound was juxtaposed with old men holding professionally printed signs about butchering babies, giving men their right to fatherhood, etc. The kids held grotesque signs too, but I can hardly blame them. Afterall, I was on that side of the protest not long ago singing "Yes Lord, Si Senore" with all of my might.
It was triggering to remember a rough part of my childhood, but the toughest part of the day was how the two camps expressed hatred to one another. A line of police officers separated us. There were strollers on both sides, some women insisting their children represent the anti-choice movement, others arguing that their children are the results of choice. Honestly I think the major conflict starters were the old men on the anti-choice side who, upon seeing our pro-choice pro-condom signs, immediately shouted for their counterparts to stand in front of us. They successfully covered our frontline with a giant banner of the pope's face, so we moved east and watched from the sidelines.
I eventually left when I saw the Knights arranging a small cluster of women at the front of the march. The women wore big black signs, proclaiming "I regret my abortion" in bold yellow font. That did it. Shaming women for the brainwashing of children is where I draw the line.
My silver lining for this warm spring day: I find hope in strangers expressing their solidarity against the growing hard right. We're binding together in grief and celebration to resist these scary times...that is love. I'm also extremely proud to stand with activist Mélanie Jubinville-Stafford, who told the media that this day is about peace and explanation. She said that her social work background reminds her that anger is a healthy emotion, and with this in mind, she engages her opposition with kindness and respect. That is love.
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