On august 22nd 2011, I stood on the tiles of
Nathan Philips square, and I watched a city mourn a man who stood for change.
Jack Layton’s death was a loss for our country and for our government.
Thousands joined in solidarity, writing chalky messages about continuing on
Jack’s mission and being the change they so wish to see in the world. On
November 12th, I stood again on the tiles. “ Come Join us!” the
group leader shouted. She was surrounded by a seated circle of individuals who
strongly believed in the occupation of St James park. There were about (and I’m
being generous) 40 of them. “JOIN US!” She called again. But the surrounding
journalists, police and passersby stood fast, leaving the small group to their
own devices of chanting for change, and cheering for their right to occupy a
park in their city and debate on what needs to happen to make this world work
better.
The woman holding the loudspeaker educated the mass on the
history of the bank of Canada and the route of our need for change. I spent
most of that time looking, with difficulty, for angles of the group that would
emphasize ‘mass’. But I did not join.
Earlier in the day, in St. James Park, Eviction notes had
gone up. The park was alive with people of all colours and consorts whispering
about the happenings of the occupation and what could happen to save it. I
wandered the park, amazed at the sheer number of tents that were occupying the
park. A aged and warn down woman stood in the street with a sign asking passing
traffic for support, as cars and trucks swerved to avoid her. Getting further inside I passed the gazebo of what looked
like homeless and ‘hippie’ youth who were playing bongos. The majority of those
I passed held cameras though, sheepishly smiling and circulating the site. I
went to the law tent where individuals where men in suits and jackets
discussing arrests and possible outcomes of a stand off. I creeped into the
library where I eavesdropped a conversation between the dusty monitor and a
well-kept student on what is currently the largest cause of human death
globally. I snooped around the aboriginal tents and the gathering
circles of park inhabitants. My observations amounted to an admiration for the
power of putting people in one place.
It reminded me of my university experience in some ways… but instead of
just seeing a group of similarly aged, privileged Anglo Saxons, the worldly
discussions were weaved between classes and races and ideals.
I spoke with three individuals in the park. A school
teacher, a Ryerson student and a woman who had just come from supporting the
Vancouver occupation. Each had a unique idea about what could happen next.
“ This is the planters wart of the city” the teacher said. “
We have deep roots here now. This is the only way we can change”. I begged on,
asking him what will happen if the eviction goes though, but he could not
answer me. “ It is the rainbow. Unless we are all together, living eating and
breathing, we cannot see the world together.” Could there be a more civil
location allocated for weekly discussions and meetings? But he shook his head,
no.
The Ryerson student agreed, having friends living in the
space but only visiting, herself. She felt that the positive energy and access
to information and discussion in the park would be crucial to progressive
changes in governing bodies. But her wide eyes and innocent smile left me
feeling like her idealism might not save the world.
I started up discussion with the third woman after taking
her picture and being embarrassed that she saw. She was smiling and watching
the space. She explained that in Vancouver, the media unfairly represented the
march because of 5 people in black facemasks, but for anyone who was there,
there was such a positive energy. We discussed the finer points of media
disparagement of the movement. “ But its working” she smiled and she was right.
People like us might never be discussing this issue if it hadn’t been for the
obscurity of the movement. It is creating interest.
Many have argued that the occupy movement has no place in
Toronto, we are lucky, because of Canada’s privatized banking system we were
not left in the same position as the USA at the end of the recession. We have
socialized healthcare. Many of the occupiers must just be lazy bums or students
with too much time on their hands. Columnists have philosophized about a lack
of financial education, poor choices, idealistic and entitled hippies and lazy
youth. And yet I feel as though there is a bigger message here, one that is
seldom addressed properly.
Solidarity. It is not that we have it bad. It is that we
know, as a whole, things could be better. It is the acknowledgment that human
civilization must work as a whole to make a fair and sustainable future. The
occupy movement is about people stepping down and acknowledging that life is
going to have to change for everyone. Even if that means most of us wont be as
comfortable for a while, we are looking to the powers that be to help us take
those steps. To lead us.
It is a big job, as Jeremy Rifkin states in his RSA talk on
the empathetic civilization. With evidence that humans are soft wired with
mirror neurons, we understand that empathy is a cultural phenomenon, perhaps
our next evolution is to extend our empathy to the entire human race. An
empathetic civilization is the ground work of successful globalization and a
productive and sustainable global community. Perhaps the an occupation is our
next prerogative as a species; to balance the imperatives of globalization, the
ideal of universalism and the empathic capacities of communities affected by
change merely by re engaging with our democratic rights.
I cringed as the mob marched to city hall, slandering Ford
and arguing over loud speakers. I watched the masses of homeward bound city
workers and white collars crowd in doorways sneering or cheer for the rowdy
troublemakers passing by. And then I stood, observing a small group of
concerned citizens begged the public to join in, to be concerned with them, and
we alienated them. They were the 1% of Toronto who was representing the whole
of concerned citizens, and it was a misrepresentation.
My question is, what if we joined in the conversation? What
if for just one day we went down and talked to our fellow voters, about change,
about ideals about the future possibilities for our country? What if that
discussion was actually available to the public, the familiarization with every
viewpoint? Perhaps it would no longer just be the commited hippies, perhaps it
would become the global conscience.
As the rains and cold weather washed away our chalk promises
to Jack Layton’s ideals, the city continued on with daily life. Why would those
same people not support a movement that called for an inclusive discussion of
our country’s future?
We are comfortable, that is for sure and if you live in Canada,
even if you are living on the street, you are part of the 1%, and with that
power we have the responsibility to participate.
“ Until the great mass of the people shall be filled with
the sense of responsibility for each other’s welfare, social justice can never
be attained.” – Helen Keller
