Everything Breaks

First the watch stopped keeping time. 

You ordered a new one but it wasn't a priority item, so it would take over a month to ship. Time didn't seem to matter most days anyway so you just got used to never knowing the hour or even the day.

Then it was the "n" on the keyboard. It just stopped working. Funny how often you use the letter “n”. But the Apple store was closed so what could you do. The laptop seemed almost useless now. 

"You don't know what you got till it's gone," played in your head.

Then the dishwasher stopped on one cycle, re-setting itself when it got down to "0". Then it just stopped altogether. Finally your husband reached the helpful local appliance guy over the phone. He said the machine wasn't worth fixing. You needed to buy a new one. He said they were easy to install by yourself but you knew you couldn't. So you started washing the dishes by hand. It was weirdly satisfying, your hands in the hot water, the grease and food residue disappearing in the suds. Like you were cleansing more than the plates and bowls. Something you could DO. Something tangible and familiar in the face of so many unknowns. 

"It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine” was your soundtrack those days.

You had to cancel your trip to meet your daughter and son-in-law. Would you get a refund? Right now, that seemed like the least of your worries. You just wanted to be safe. You wanted your family to be safe. Even if it meant you couldn’t see them.  

Morrisey’s “I Will See You in Far-Off Places” kept running through your head.

Things started running out in the stores. Toilet paper. Hand sanitizer. Flour. Yeast. Eggs. Beans. Pasta.  Things you couldn't predict. The outbreaks at meat packing plants caused shutdowns in production. And there was no accounting for what people were hoarding. It was like people were going back to their pioneer roots but without being self-sufficient and suddenly you realized how not self-sufficient you really were. How dependent you were on people you don’t even know just to get through every day. 

The internet was slow. Other times it was the cell service- your life-lines with the world.

People all around out of work, living off savings and credit cards and loans and government promises. First it was no one you knew, and then it was.

And still the COVID-19 numbers were moving up and up. First creeping and then ballooning and there was nothing to do but watch and wait and hope. Hope that people would follow the instructions. That there would be a vaccine. That science would win before someone you knew died. You avoided the elderly and your own family and friends and for a long time, it was no one you knew who got sick. And then it was. 

Nat King Cole’s “Smile” was your theme song. Because you tried to smile, even though it felt like everything was breaking, including your heart.

You prayed those tax dollars would hold up and that single payer public health care system you believed in would be enough to save you. That the "economy" would hold. That property values wouldn’t collapse. That decades of savings would not be wiped out. That already high rates of inequality wouldn’t lead to greater disparity. In your heart, you knew that wasn’t true.

Flatten the curve, you were told. Social isolation. Herd immunity. Physical distancing. The r-factor. New terms you tried to learn. New rules you tried to follow, counter intuitive as they seemed. Science you tried to understand. 

The one thing you did understand was the fear.  Fear that someone you loved would fall ill and there would be nothing you could do to help. That they would die alone and all you could do was weep. Fear for yourself. Fear for those with mental illness. Fear your country would be the next Italy. 

In the middle of it, conspiracy theories. That China deliberately planted the virus to dominate the global economy. That your government was trying to screw you over. That your rights were being stripped away. People wanted someone to blame. They wanted to be angry. Because anger somehow felt more productive than fear.

You watched the news from south of the border. Lineups for food banks. The homeless sleeping in parking lots. Armed people on the steps of the legislature, demanding their “freedoms”. Demanding an end to the lockdown so they could get their hair cut and walk on the beach, regardless of who they infected, including themselves. “Give me liberty or give me death,” they said and where would that end? Then the news that the sale of guns and ammo was at an all-time high. You were afraid there would be some kind of anarchy. A fear that had you wishing you had been in that line up for a gun at Cabela’s before it got shut down. Fear you would be the next U.S.

Fred Eaglesmith’s “Time to Get a Gun” started playing in your head.

Your Special Day

Yesterday was my birthday.

All things considered, it was a pretty good day. I talked to all my kids and a few other relatives. I got many warm wishes over Facebook. Some cookies and homemade face masks were dropped off at my house by a friend. My husband made French toast for breakfast, barbecued steaks, made a cake and somehow even managed to procure gifts. Pretty good considering we’re stuck here with three feet of snow outside in the middle of a pandemic. It doesn’t compare to last year when the world was good and three kids were all in the same place at the same time and we went out for cocktails and dinner, but people made an effort to make me happy and it was appreciated.

Birthdays are funny things. No one asked to be born, yet we honour their existence with greetings and gifts on that one day. That one day when we are encouraged to be self indulgent, to celebrate our own uniqueness, rather than thinking about others.

I think back on the birthdays of long ago, those many birthdays of my childhood, a childhood where birthdays were big events thanks mostly to my mom. I try to find meaning. 

I am sure if she had been born in a different era, Mom would have been a career woman but she was a 1960s mom who put all her energies into home and community and family. She loved big projects and entertaining. She included everyone in these events. I wonder now if she had ever been excluded herself in her own childhood. Or if growing up in the depression  made her more aware of the suffering of others. She never talked about it, but I wonder. Or perhaps as a teacher in a series of small towns, she had seen the pain that exclusion caused. Or maybe that was just who she was. Whatever the reason, Mom insisted that every girl in my class got invited to my big day. She spent weeks experimenting with crafts and games and cooking and making goody bags and always seemed to pull off the big event effortlessly.  I know she wanted me to feel special and I did. And she wanted to be a good hostess by making all her guests feel welcome. These parties caused me stress. I was the centre of attention, something I have never enjoyed. I was a quiet introverted kid who mostly lived in a magical world of my own imagination and big crowds made me anxious.

Grade two me.

In grade two there were 42 kids in our class, half girls, and they were all invited to my birthday. Mom went all out. Goody bags were paper lunch bags decorated with bunny faces and bunny ears. Cookies were little nests of dough rolled in coconut and filled with jellybean eggs. Crafts were making our own decoupage brooches out of photos cut from magazines. I had a new dress for the day. 

Me with my best friends Patti and Vivianne

It was spring, most of the snow had melted, and I was on my way back to school after lunch on party day when I was suddenly gripped by such stomach pains I had to lie down on the side of the road-it was pure nerves. Eventually I dragged my way back home where I was put promptly to bed before the party.  On any other day, after school activities would have been cancelled. You don’t go to school, you don’t do anything else.  But 20-plus little girls were coming to a party, so the party was going to happen.

And so it proceeded. A lot of running around. A cake shaped like a castle. So many presents. Colouring books and crayons and paper dolls. Girls I barely knew dressed in their party dresses, standing awkwardly with other girls. Shy girls, poor girls, farm girls, daughters of engineers and teachers and truck drivers and the unemployed- I guess. I didn’t think about that back then. I didn’t know unemployment or poverty existed. All I knew was that I was at the centre of things and I didn’t much like it. I was supposed to be friends with kids I didn’t even know. I was eight. It was supposed to be all about me. And it wasn’t about me at all.

Girls and cake

It’s something I look back on and wonder about. I wonder what my mom was thinking. I know my grade three party was a lot smaller. And I think about how the most powerful lessons in life are not necessarily the intended lessons. My mom probably learned something about me that she didn’t know. I learned something about her. I also learned a little bit about what it means to be a hostess. Mostly what I learned was that nothing is ever all about you. Not really. Even when you want it to be.

Nothing.

As my big day unfolded yesterday, I read about impossible situations in our province, country, continent and globe. Layoffs and shortages and homelessness. Uncertainty. Homelessness. Hunger. Fear.

As I celebrated being me, I watched the coronavirus numbers tick ever upward, so many infected and the dying here in my own province and in the world at large. Almost impossible to imagine as I sit here in my comfortable house in my little town.

Every day we all go about our business, trying to fill our time, thinking about our minor inconveniences and our larger struggles but underneath it all, we wonder where things will end up when all is said and done. What will the world look like? How many will die? How will we live?

Yesterday was my birthday. It was full of well-wishes and phone calls and gifts and doing whatever I wanted. But it wasn’t just about me. It never is. Ticking away in the background is always injustice and inequality and uncertainty and people trying to make things better.

It’s a lesson that has taken me a long time to learn.

Thanks Mom.

waiting for the light

the light from a star takes years to reach your eyes

it is there but you can’t see it

flaming in space for years before it reaches you

you don’t know it, but you are waiting

waiting for the light

the virus at first so distant

now

here

in your country

in your town

in someone you know

maybe

in you

like the light from a star, it is here

but it takes days

before the symptoms can be seen

before the attack

before lives are forever changed

and all you can do is wait

daughters and sons and parents and brothers and sisters and friends

each of you

sitting at your own table

the news rolling over you

wave after wave

each worse than the last

making small talk

ice in our hearts

as we wait.

Wait for the light

in this war with an invisible enemy

the best action is no action

the best way to hold each other close is to stay apart

and trust in the invisible warriors

whose light is shining even when we can’t see it

the grocery store clerks and health care aides

nursing home attendants and truck drivers

itinerant farm workers and warehousemen

doctors and nurses and scientists

and all who sit and wait

Wait for the light.

Little Women

I watched the movie "Little Women" a few weeks ago in the fabulous Rex Theatre in Slave Lake. It is a great movie that illustrates the struggles women have gone through for generations in their attempts for equality.

My paternal grandmother was matron of a hospital in 1914. By my count she was in her mid-20s at the time (she lied about her date of birth a few times so she could keep working past mandatory retirement age). My other grandmother was admitted to nursing school but didn’t go because her family left Ontario to pioneer in the Peace Country and she went with them.  She was fascinated by medicine and the veterinary sciences. My great aunts all became teachers but they had many other skills and talents in art, photography, farming, and the biological sciences-who knows what they would have done if they had been born in a different era? I’m sure my maternal grandmother would have been a vet and Granny Hartford ? Maybe she would have ended up managing a corporation the same way she managed her lively household. They were in no way "little woman." They were fierce in their own ways. They were smart, opinionated and enterprising. And they were role models for the next generation of females in their families.

Granny Hartford,front and centre

My mom graduated from high school at age 16. She got a commerce degree and then was told there were no jobs for women in that field. She became a teacher, guidance counsellor, got a Masters degree, then became a wife, mother, and community organizer. She used her talents in many ways but I heard her say more than once that she wondered what her life would have been like if she had been able to pursue a career in marketing. She marketed the non-profits she belonged to like a pro.

Mom on her graduation from University

My mom and dad both wanted me to pursue a career in science. I didn’t think I had the aptitude so I too followed a traditional women’s career as a teacher. I don’t know why I thought I wouldn’t be good in the sciences. I wonder if my education had something to do with it. Were there subtle or less-than-subtle hints that I wasn’t smart enough?  My report cards-stowed away for me by my packrat mom- indicate my teachers thought I was great in the humanities, but lacked the critical thinking needed for the sciences.

My own two girls have not pursued anything in the way of traditional women’s work. One has a degree in Chemical Engineering and a PhD in Biotechnology. The other is a geophysicist who worked in oil and gas for several years in a male dominated environment and is currently studying climate modelling. They were encouraged in these pursuits by their dad and me and their grandparents and their small-town public school teachers. Have they experienced discrimination because they are girls? Absolutely. As a summer student working for a survey company, my eldest often was left in the office while the male student went out in the field. The other? There are not a lot of women in oil and gas. She knows what discrimination is. However women in the industry have their own network to support each other. They’ve both learned when and how to assert themselves and when to stay quiet. When to fight it out and when to pack it in. How to develop allies. Mostly, how to work and work and work. It’s not a level playing field but they are smart, enterprising, and hardworking. And I hope they have more confidence in themselves than I did.

The world has changed a lot since Granny Hartford was matron of the Weyburn Hospital. It’s changed since my mom was denied a chance to use her creativity and drive in the field of her choice. It’s changed since the days of my schooling where I was told I “failed to grasp the concept of variables”.  Because I do fully grasp that concept. There are a million variables that influence not just the result of science experiments, but also where we live, how we live, and the opportunities that lie in front of us.  

There are still parts of the world where women are denied their full potential.  I would like to think that Canada is not one of those places, but here in Alberta there is still inequality. We see recommendations that certain services to women are considered of “limited value” despite the fact that tubal ligations and breast reductions are life changing for many women. Yet vasectomies are not mentioned. It's hard not to disagree with my friend Stacy when she says the government wants to keep women big breasted and pregnant. As well, Alberta has the largest pay gap in Canada between men and women- about 40% according to the Alberta government. Women are more likely to work in minimum wage jobs and are far more likely to live in poverty. Misogyny is alive and well as anyone following the nasty comments directed at former Premier Notley and former environment minister Shannon Phillips demonstrate. Or the ongoing attacks on the traditionally female-dominated professions of nursing and teaching.

Louisa May Alcott and her sisters might have been considered "little women" but due to women like my grandmothers, today's girls can be much more than that. Thanks to the passion and drive of today’s young women, I know improvements will continue. It is sad that we need a day to reflect on what it is to be a woman, but we do. We still have a lot of work ahead of us. 

Happy Women’s Day, ladies! 

Welcome to the Panel of Foregone Conclusions

Dear Committee Members:

Greetings and welcome to the new panel on foregone conclusions!

In the interests of open government, designed to improve transparency and ensure better collaboration between government and citizens, the Alberta government is pleased to accept your participation in the upcoming [panel/review/roundtable/online survey/consultation/submission-based engagement] based on your [cronyism/neoliberal ideology/donations to the party/blind loyalty/unwavering devotion to the petrostate].

Thank you for providing your input in the area of [finance/education/healthcare/food services/policing/building construction/municipal governance/addictions/automobile insurance/fisheries/agriculture/energy/the arts/mental health/crime/the hours of the day/condo boards/employment standards and wages].

Recognizing that while Albertans pay the lowest taxes in Canada, they pay the most for public services while getting the worst results, and furthermore acknowledging that rules and regulations stand in the way of economic progress, and also reminding the world that Alberta is open for business, and by that we mean anything the public sector does, the private sector can do- if not better, then at least cheaper, and if not cheaper, most importantly for profit- and further accepting that Alberta has a spending problem, not a revenue problem, and reminding Albertans that the government has a mandate to save Alberta from the evils of socialism, we ask that you provide input into this initiative using your [specialized expertise/jurisdictional research/globally endorsed best practices/selected previous engagement feedback /clever writing skills/impeccable reputation] all completely devoid of any ideological interference on the part of the current government and the political party it represents.

Your participation will help inform potential changes to [legislation/policy/regulations/public sector/overall way of life for all citizens] that are expected to be introduced in the [spring/summer/fall/winter of 2020/at some unforeseeable date].

Talking points may include any of the following: 

• Albertans have told us that…
• We need to get rid of inefficiencies
• Motherhood statements
• References to the Alberta Advantage
• Glorification of our energy based economy
• Eliminating waste will lead to a reduction of our already absurdly high taxes
• We don’t need more stinking rules
• Reducing red tape will encourage investment
• Propose something something that already exists but state it in such a way that it sounds like a new idea
• Turn one group against another
• Say the government is really NOT going to do something it has never done anyway
• Remind people the previous government created unsustainable debt that will cripple the lives of their grandchildren so now we can’t afford government services
• State that the actions of the previous government were ideologically based. Whatever the panel recommends isn’t.
• Something something foreign funded European environmentalists

Recommendations

• Include in your final report a couple of unpopular suggestions that we will immediately admit are great but promise not to implement which will soften people up when you…
• Further propose a whole bunch of stuff that changes the fundamental nature of the province including…
• Passing responsibility for the impact of underfunding onto municipal government and elected and appointed boards
• So many reductions in public services that people will cry out for privatization
• And a lack of regulations so profound that it will be like we have no rules at all
• Then, just so the public knows we are still “listening”…
• Propose more public engagement in the form of [round table discussions held only in major cities to which only selected people are invited/online surveys that are worded to provide the results that further our agenda/ask people to submit online feedback to which we won’t respond]

We look forward to working with you in this important initiative that will restore confidence in Alberta’s economy and make life better for (some) Albertans and thank you once again for your service to the people of the great province of Alberta.

Sincerely,

The Government of Alberta

P.S. You do not have to pretend you are listening to all Albertans, that is our job.

cc.

1.     Curriculum Advisory Panel
2.     Auto insurance reform
3.     Skills for jobs task force
4.     Blue Ribbon Panel on Alberta’s Finances
5.     Minimum wage expert panel
6.     Vision for student learning engagement
7.     Choice in Education
8.     Photo Radar in Alberta
9.      Fair Deal Panel
10.   AHS Advisory Review
11.  Glenora Building-Former Royal Alberta Museum
12.  Mental Health Act Engagement
13.   Red Tape Reduction Panel
14.  Tobacco and smoking reduction review
15.  City Charter Engagement
16.  Food regulation engagement
17.  Condominium rules consultation
18.  Mental health and addictions
19.  Fisheries engagement
20.  Alberta Energy Review
21.  Arts Professions Act Engagement
22.  Daylight saving time engagement
23.  Employment standards engagement
24.  Farmer led research engagement
25.  Road testing engagement
26.  Rural crime engagement