The snow recedes at Thorsby in
step with the increased hours of sunshine much enjoyed by those earlier bound in
seasonal darkness as I write this.
A man notes
the caterwaul of his fellows grow with the passing cold of winter's silent
judgement, arisen on the promise of a warmer tomorrow. This in spite of centuries spent in prideful
carriage through atmospheric travails beyond the pale of mortals living by
terms of geography less challenging.
This
country, lately known as Canada to the neighbors, seems undeniably to have lost
sight of the character necessary to its origins.
In written
form, either published or broadcast to the nation from coast-to-coast-to-coast,
an identity crisis of epic proportion does unfold. The population struggles either as result or
in its place, unsure it seems of either whom they claim to be or why they came
here in the first place.
From the
windswept beauty of the Alberta foothills meanwhile, this son of the pioneers
looks on with an uneven mix of bitter disappointment and stunned surprise.
Were my
father alive today, I fear his response might more closely resemble the
resolute commitment that once formed this nation. While most times either swift or brutal in
its application, neither from whence they came nor what they intended at any
time was left to question.
For only brute strength or
absolute commitment would prove sufficient to wrest survival from a wilderness
now traversed from coast-to-coast in ignorant comfort by their offspring.
Memory of a struggle, epic in
proportion whose tragedy yet echoes loudly through the ages following, it seems
was lost by their children. The iron
grit necessary to their conception, that fearless optimism without which they
would not be here today, now is either willfully ignored or ignorantly
resisted.
In its place is offered the
cowardice of fear or the recalcitrance of bigotry by applicants to public positions
of political power.
I state for the record here, those
who traffic in such divisive filth are cowards all, with nary the intestinal
fortitude to defend or stand for such despicable ignorance between the lot of
them if individually confronted. For
only false-courage granted by the faceless mob emboldens such tiny people as
these to promote the mean-spirited hatred of deplorable right-wing or populist
rhetoric.
Like the feckless trash they most
closely resemble, opportunistic political sociopaths lacking the true courage
of conviction instead offer racist fear-mongering or religious division in
place of strategies or progress.
I speak here as an authentic son
of the pioneers responsible for the existence of this nation, a direct descendent
of those who made Canada. Being of Metis
descent, my people are that of which Canada is most elementally composed, and
for the record I offer a short review of my heritage.
My mother was a middle daughter
of the Cree clan named Mason living on what is known currently as the Fisher
River First Nation, not only a survivor of the residential schools but the
mother of eight children. A woman raised
in wilderness, circumstances would later necessitate her living as one of the
country's early single mother's.
While the color of her skin was
used as a weapon against her each day of her life, with stubborn dignity she
would celebrate the arrival of great-grandchildren.
My father was a WWII veteran, the
elder son of a distant branch of the Pruden clan long ago founded by a one-time
indentured pauper who rose to the position of HBC Factor in this new
world. A man born to colonize the new
country, his life would shape a world view founded in respect for the right to
freedom of all men.
Known among men of his time for
conservative values most strongly influenced by respect for king or country, he
volunteered to fight or die if necessary to ensure the world would be free of the
evil spread by Nazi's or the tragedy of the Holocaust.
To my parents I owe all I have,
will or ever know.
I thank them for making me, as I
thank them for the country in which I live, each day.
To be Canadian is to respect
heritage.
Once upon a time ago, the first
peoples welcomed the first visitors to these shores with the means to survive
the harshest of circumstance found in their home. Some not extended time later, when pursuit of
fame or fortune had divided the surrounding geography into stolen domains claimed
by these white visitors, a country eventually named Canada came to be.
While time has since cast doubt
on the wisdom of that initial welcome, the nation existing it its place is best
served remembering the source of its founding.
To be Canadian after all, is also
to be an immigrant.
As much as it means being
fearless.
To survive in this place, to
build this country, not only took, but takes, the courage of conviction.
That's also a value necessary to
immigrants.
In the course of my life, I've
listened to more people than I can count try to define what it means to 'be
Canadian'. So far, I've heard none that have
done my parents the justice they so deservedly earned.
To be a Canadian, first, last and
always, means to be a pioneer.
To be a pioneer requires being
open-minded to unknown possibilities.
This country of Canada, neither
now nor then, has ever provided comfort to cowards.
We share what we have with others
here; that is our tradition. As we fight
to the death whenever or wherever our values might be assaulted.
We do these things because, in
the words of my parents, that's what it means to be Canadian.
In the wilderness of early Canada
~ a place I was fortunate enough to experience in my long ago youth ~ a door was
never left locked when a homesteader should be away. This was because at any time, a lost
traveler, a neighbor, or any other fellow pioneer might need food or shelter to
survive it.
In those times, a Canadian left
his door unlocked for the safety of an unknown fellow pioneer.
That as much as anything else is
what it means to be Canadian.
To be Canadian means holding the
values of a pioneer as sacrosanct to survival.
For we are the children of pioneers.
Above all else, it's that we must
not forget if honor is what we would reflect upon our shared heritage.
To be Canadian is to be fearless.
Just as being Canadian makes
sharing what we have a natural urge.
However, I would advise not
taking anything from a Canadian without first asking permission to do so.
For being a pioneer also means
defending oneself or one's home against any or all threats, to the death if
necessary, with cheerful but resolute conviction.
If you doubt those words, you're
welcome to try it for yourself somewhere within the nation's borders.
I wish you much luck, but you
will certainly need more of it.
Thus a man finds himself with
many good reasons to feel particularly disgusted by the political climate now being
fomented in Canada. In surprising
numbers political cowards currently promote fear-mongering or outright hatred ~
a common practice among the right-wing in Canada since the rise of a popular
fascist in our southern neighbor ~ towards either immigrant populations or
refugees seeking respite from this war-torn planet.
These bigoted fools with their ignorant
supporters now wave the nation's flag while engaging in the most absurdly UN-Canadian
behavior for all to see. While receiving
neither the shame nor the condemnation they so richly deserve from either the
media or the apparently somnambulant Canadian population.
As children of the pioneers we
must stop this despicable activity before it becomes further ensconced in the
trappings of respectability. These
bigoted racists must be stopped, with their agendas identified as dangerous, if
Canada is to avoid a similar fate as has befallen earlier populist or fascist
political movements elsewhere around the world.
Like it or not, Canada is under
assault by a group of penny ante fascists in league with a loose conglomeration
of self-identified bigots or avowed racists.
Fortunately, being Canadian means
facing any battle with the resolute conviction required to achieve either victory
or death in pursuit of it.
The scourge of bigotry has doubtless
secured a beachhead upon the shores of our political landscape, supported by
the racism undermining the institutions of our society. As children of Canada, a nation founded upon
the principals of shared freedom with justice for all, we must now stand
together to defeat it.
The reasons we must are plain,
but I will again state them for the sake of either those Canadian's who have forgotten
or the historical record.
To be Canadian is to be an
immigrant.
To be Canadian is to be a
refugee.
To be Canadian is to be fearless.
To be Canadian is to stand up for
what we believe in when others sit.
To be Canadian is to keep a light
on in a dark place that others may find their way.
To be Canadian is to do the right
thing.
To be Canadian is to be a
pioneer.
Thanks for
sharing the blog.
- TFPMarch 23, 2017
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