Roots and Branches
When I was a little kid I remember sitting
down with my granddad to look at a tiny toy dresser that he had given me for my
dollhouse. “Just imagine,” he said,
between puffs on his pipe. “This was
made by a little Chinaman, sitting in a dark and smoky room there in Hong Kong , gluing the little pieces together by
hand. Every day, just gluing these
little pieces together for pennies.”
Together we marveled at the time and effort the little “Chinaman” had
put in to making this exquisite piece of furniture. Together we wondered about his world, so far
away.
My grandfather George Martin |
My grandfather came to Canada from England as an
orphan. Working for the Bank of Commerce, he met and married my grandmother, a fifth generation Canadian who
had recently arrived to pioneer in the Peace country. As
they left behind their known worlds for their grand adventure, globalization
and pluralism were powerful forces in their lives, even if they were not words
in their vocabulary.
My grandmother Marion McNaught |
In World War I, granddad reached the Front,
from which he sent along a steady stream of post cards and letters describing the
people and way of life he found. My
grandmother soon journeyed across the Atlantic
to be closer to him, working in a munitions plant outside of London .
In retirement, granddad worked to relieve bank managers in the Far
North, sending home many letters describing what he found there. To her dying day, my grandmother considered
pieces of land on which a person could still homestead.
My grandparents’ legacy has never been lost
on me. My husband and I met in Shanghai
and have since dragged our kids through North, South and Central
America , Europe and Asia . As I walked
the streets of Hong Kong with my own small
children, I wondered about that Chinese labourer, sitting in his dark
workroom. His reality was not so
different than the one Grandad and I envisioned.
Originally published as "How do you teach empathy to a child?" 06/04/2010 in ATA News Moot Points.
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