Time seems to go by very quickly when you are old. I am very surprised to note that it is more than three years since I wrote a blog about my friend, Joyce Hirasawa, and the anger that she was still expressing because in 1942, when she was fifteen years old, she and her family were uprooted from their home on the coast of British Columbia and moved first to Hastings Park in Vancouver and then to New Denver in the interior, with all the family's worldly goods having been confiscated. She is angry and she makes it clear, with good reason, that she still feels that Canada has not done enough to redress the wrongs that were done at that time. The United States, the country we originally seem to have been trying to mimic, has done a much better job.
When I first wrote that piece I wrote it largely out of guilt because of my own lack of knowledge before talking to her. I have since learned that the story is not uncommon in this retirement home, occupied as it is with nonagenarians. There are other people with Japanese ancestry who can tell similar stories and I sense that they want to get them out before it is too late for the rest of us to hear them first-hand. I have chosen to talk to two of them.
The first is Jean Tokiwa, an only child who was uprooted at the age of ten and moved with her parents to Hastings Park, a staging facility in Vancouver. The corner store that her parents had been running, which was a social centre of her life, had been ripped away from the family. They were sent to Hastings Park with merely the clothes on their back as everything that they owned was claimed by white citizens. She was allowed to bring her cat, the saving grace for a ten-year-old girl.
In the summer of 1942 they were sent toTashme, one of the larger internment camps near the town of Hope, BC. She was one of more than 2600 internees in Tashme. The adults constructed small tarpaper shacks with lumber from the surrounding forests. The identical shacks were about 14 x 24' and, as interior doors were not permitted, curtains provided privacy. Kerosene lamps were the only source of indoor light, there was no indoor plumbing, and the privy was shared with three other families.
Perhaps because of her age, five years younger than Joyce, Jean no longer concerns herrself with what her family went through. Communal "teachers" taught her and they taught her so well that they set an example for her to become a teacher herself. She eventually ended up as a grade 2 teacher in Hamilton. She married a lawyer and they raised three boys who are all now professionals – one an accountant, another a veterinarian, and the third genealogist.
At eighty-nine, Jean seems on the surface to be a very happy contented lady. She certainly tries to let us believe that. Unfortunately, however, she clearly has been scarred. For more than a year I had the honour to be sitting with her for dinner in the dining room at our retirement residence. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that while we had pleasant conversations, the four years she spent in Tashme was raised at 99% of the meals. She would tell us about the happy times in Vancouver and then say about the internment "I wonder why they did that to us?" After a few meals, apologizing on behalf of white people seemed to become redundant.
I am no psychologist but it is clear that the trauma facing this young girl permanently etched itself on her for the rest of her life even right up until today. In those days, there were no facilities for treating post traumatic stress.
The second person I chose to it interview is my new neighbour, Stony Nakano. Now, remember, when the internment occurred, Jean was a happy-go-lucky ten and Joyce, with good reason, became an angry fifteen-year-old. Stony turned twenty-one on March 29th, 1942. He had been spending his early adult life working on his father's farm. The family was very close and the need for his work was overwhelming. Yet, as a strapping young man, he yearned to move out and see the outside world.
In retrospect, he sees the internment as an opportunity he welcomed in order to escape from home. All young people have such yearnings and he was no exception. He was sent to a camp along with 500 other young men to build a highway between Revelstoke and Sicamous, 44.5 miles of what was to become part of the TransCanada Highway. Documents indicate that there was low morale, harsh work conditions and bouts of dysentery, and work stoppages to protest the pay of twenty cents a day.
Stony is now a very happy man. He is ninety-nine years old, has all his wits about him including an immaculate memory, and can walk without assistance. After spending some time in Lethbridge he married and settled down in Hamilton, eventually working at the White Motor Company. In 2012, he returned and visited many of the places where he had lived out west, including the gravesites of his parents. In 2018, at the age of ninety-seven, he returned to his campsite at Griffin Lake where a plaque was being unveiled to commemorate the road crews. He was a guest speaker. Now he has all kinds of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren who celebrate his presence on earth.
Needless to say, despite quoting documents to him, I could not get Stony to say anything negative about the internment.
So where can we go with the story? I think a lot has to do with the age of the young people when they were faced with the problem and where they were in the course of their lives. Don't get me wrong.. I feel badly for Joyce and Jean but this particular essay does not leave me on the high horse, where I expected to be, with more evidence to back up a demand for more justice.
I guess that is just the way life is.
Sunday, 25 October 2020
Listening to the Ethnic Japanese Internees - While We Still Can
Monday, 12 October 2020
Patient experience during COVID-19
Last week, I had the honour of being chosen to report to the Tenth Annual Geriatric Training Program about my experiences as a resident of a retirement home during the first wave of the coronavirus. The sponsors of the program, Hamilton Health Sciences, McMaster University Health Sciences, and the Department of Geriatric Medicine, handpicked experts in various fields of geriatric healthcare. I was the lone non-expert in the two day program. I still think that I had a fair amount to tell them, as I was speaking from the inside so to speak.
As a group, I think there are two major's experiences which were uniform to most residents of retirement homes. The first is fear; the second is what I would call "enhanced loneliness".
I live in what you might call a medium-sized retirement residence, supporting the lives of slightly more than 100 people. Our building shares a city block with the Hamilton federal building at Bay and Market streets in downtown Hamilton. For those who don't know it, I am eighty-three years old and have spent practically all of the last eight years in a motorized wheelchair. One of the reasons I chose this residence has to do with being able to enjoy the pleasures of living in downtown Hamilton.
I am one of the younger people here and I think I still have most of my wits about me but there were times when I found things confusing. The average age here is over ninety and many people have chosen to concentrate their lives on routine, memories, and family. They don't pay a lot of attention to news of an approaching coronavirus. Thus,starting March 15th, when we were locked down, and all the staff were wearing facemasks, many of the residents chose to ignore all the rules, play cards together, and ignore any sense of social distancing.
Fear did set in, however, starting, in my case, with an awareness of a lack of personal protective equipment. You will remember that in Ontario we were very short of ventilators. I received a telephone call from my doctor asking me what I would be prepared to have happen if I had to go to the hospital and there was only one ventilator available for myself and a needy patient half my age. Would I be prepared to give up my ventilator even if it meant near certain death?
What a classic question.! You might be asked this question in a make-believe scenario, but this was real life. I am afraid I waffled. She may have expected more grace from me but I indicated that, at eighty-two, I wasn't prepared to die yet. Six months later, I am now eighty-three and I still think that I have a lot of my life ahead of me. Mind you, when I think about it I am glad that I would have had my say should I have been unable to express myself should the incident have occurred. A few weeks ago, I read in the New York Times, that in Belgium, at relatively wealthy country, the hospitals filled up during the first wave and seniors who needed hospital care were being rejected. Caregivers were told to administer morphine and let death occur.
Two thirds of all coronavirus deaths in Belgium during the first wave occurred in nursing homes. I am not suggesting that that sort of protocol existed in Ontario, but during the first wave, 1858 out of 2827 deaths which occurred in Ontario were people living in long-term care or retirement homes. That is almost exactly 2/3, I wonder why. Of course, the reason here is the long-standing lack of decent standards which successive governments have applied to long-term care facilities in particular, but also to retirement homes.
When I think about this, my fear turns to anger. I paid taxes all my life without complaint and I did so in full expectation that the state would be there for me when I needed it. We have understood the demographics created by the baby-boom for more than seventy years and yet the whole of western society seems to have made very little preparation to care for the elderly.
When the lockdown occurred, on March 15th, and for three months thereafter, we were not allowed to leave the premises even to touch the sidewalk. One resident who did so by going up to the mailbox, was confined to his room for fourteen days. The recreation and activities manager was given a leave of absence. All activities ceased. No exercise programs; no happy hour; no beauty parlour; no movies; no assistance with nail care; no pastor to lead Bible study; no little dog for us to pat on Saturday mornings. The baby chicks who had joined us as eggs so that we could watch them poke their heads through suddenly disappeared
When a neighbouring retirement home just a few blocks away started to have patients die and a great number of staff and patients test positive for COVID-19 a decision was made not to let anybody who had been near their building into our building. Two of my favourite PSW caregivers had no alternative but to choose to work elsewhere. Eventually, the province passed the regulation making that mandatory. I have not seen them since.
I am a great advocate for PSW's and I am very grateful for the help they give me. In retrospect, however, I am very grateful for the fact that extra care was taken by my retirement residence to make sure that I was safe.
My caregivers are provided by the local LHIN and they are extremely good. I find it strange, however, that there is no requirement by the LHIN for them to ever be tested for COVID-19. I inquired and was told that this is in accordance with provincial directives. Some of my PSW's get tested on their own while others point out that they move between clients on buses and, with the long wait for results, testing would be purposeless.
I have had two occasions to be tested. The first occurred in May when I happened to indicate to PSW employed by the residence that I had a stomachache. The second occurred in July when I was making preparations to visit my sister and brother-in-law, both of whom are octogenarians. In each situation I waited five days or the results.
I mentioned earlier that the second great concern here is what I would call enhanced loneliness. I am convinced that loneliness is a very serious matter in situations like this. The evidence being taken by the Ontario Long-Term Care COVID-19 Commission seems to endorse this conclusion.
I am fortunate in that I have a lot of friends from Kitchener Waterloo and family from Toronto and Eastern Ontario who visit me a lot. That's all stopped in March. I think that most of the people here who have family and friends in Hamilton suffered more than I did. Further, I was very lucky. On March 15th, which I consider to be shut down day, my niece, Elspeth McCulloch, set up a series of nightly Zoom meetings to occur each evening at 7.30 pm for family and our friends. The result is that I got to see many members of my family more often than usual.
How did the others who were not so fortunate deal with loneliness? I have asked them and I have asked PSW's who work with them.. I don't think many of them dealt with it very well. I heard stories of severe depression and I was told that a large number of them actually died during the lockdown. As this information was antidotal I spoke with the chief administrator here about it. She confirmed to me that depression had become a very serious matter and that, for a number of reasons, there was a spike in the number of deaths, The plan, at the moment, is to slowly reopen the dining room and try to entice some people, so depressed and fearful that they won't leave the rooms, to come to the dining room in order to eat.(The dining room has been closed since the end of March and we have had our meals brought to us in our rooms.) Deaths of this nature cannot be directly attributed to COVID-19,
All my life I have noted that if I celebrate New Year's Eve in a wild party fashion I have a relatively quiet year and vice a versa. I started this year in a coma. My health is been very good since January 12th. The lockdown that I have been describing ended on June 18th The summer was very enjoyable, especially the trip I took to the home of my sister and brother-in-law, Carolyn and Gordon McCulloch, at the end of July. Lockdown is now beginning again and the best thing I have to look forward to is the hope that I will get to make that trip again next summer.
In the meantime, winter looks to be bleak. My neighbour across the hall, Stony, was unable to celebrate his ninety-ninth birthday on March 29th. We are looking forward to doing something special in 2021 by celebrating his 100th.
I do believe that, since I spent so much time in my room, using the computer, talking on the telephone and reading, my life may have become a bit contracted. Much of the world outside this building now strikes me as being irrelevant and not worth seeking out. I suspect that other people here at the same sense. The whole world is facing a new reality.
Tuesday, 1 September 2020
My Summer Reading Book Report
This summer, on occasion, I have been opening my wheelchair out flat and lying down in the sunshine in the backyard here at the retirement residence When I'm not doing that I am reading three books at the same time. I suppose I am trying to make sense out of the crazy world in which we live by means of the books I have chosen.
The first of the books is a rather heavy volume written by John Bolton, the former National Security Advisor to US Pres. Donald Trump entitled "The Room Where It Happened, a White House Memoir." As you might expect, Bolton is not a particularly favourable political personality to me. He fiercely believes that might is right and the United States should be flexing its muscles as much as possible in the world. His strong positions in this regard have influenced the last three Republican presidents, Reagan, Bush and Bush. He wanted to be Secretary of State and clearly considered this job a consolation prize. He lasted for 453 days.
Regardless of all that, I found his chronicle to be fascinating. He always feels he knows what the right thing is to do, perhaps because of his long experience. I am certain that he must've worn a body pack every day because he describes meeting after meeting in great detail including direct quotes from various people. Bolton is a trained lawyer and writes like one. I like that
The Oval Office that Bolton describes is one of constant confusion. Everybody is trying to get the President's attention and the President, who does not read anything, is constantly making off-the-cuff responses which people are trying to interpret as government policy. Bolton does not pretend that he was ever a close confident of the President and his exposure of administrative incompetence is overwhelming. He is also very critical of most of the inner circle although, curiously, he seems to have some respect for Mike Pompeo.
A good example government incompetence is the response to the failed attempts to overthrow the Maduro regime in Argentina.. You will be aware that Venezuela is an economic basket case because of mismanagement and in early 2019 Juan Guido, the new young President of the National Assembly, announced that Maduro's reelection the previous year had been illegitimate and therefore the office of the Presidency of the country was vacant. He said that he would become the interim President until free elections could be held. His position was quickly supported by Canada and most other countries in the Western Hemisphere. The response of the United States was very confusing and Bolton explains why.
Bolton wanted to give American support, short of military support but in the way of very severe trade sanctions. Because of business interests that various companies had in Venezuela the Treasury Department was not cooperative. Pres. Trump would never give the issue enough attention for a position to be taken. Despite the rioting in the streets, he was impressed by the fact that the military seemed to still support the President. When Guido's wife came to Washington to make a personal plea for help, he seemed to be suspicious because she was not wearing a wedding ring and he kept asking afterwards what his staff thought of that "issue". Finally, in a telephone conversation with Vladimir Putin about other matters, Putin convinced him that Guido had no real support and apparently likened the Venezuelan leader to Hillary Clinton declaring herself President of the United States. Putin lied and said that neither Russia nor Cuba and any role in propping up the Maduro regime. That settled things.
Sometimes Trump's fickle character may well have been helpful to the world. He did change his mind about escalating tensions with Iran, you may recall. Needless to say, this was to Bolton's chagrin.
I believe John Bolton has publicly indicated he is voting for Joe Biden.
The second book I am reading is the immensely popular tell all by Trump's niece, Mary Trump. It is called Too Much and Never Enough. If Bolton wrote like the lawyer he is, Trump writes like the psychologist she is. Mary Trump writes about her paternal grandfather, Fred, who built up a huge empire of low income apartment buildings in Brooklyn. Invariably, he funded the buildings with government money obtained through his connections in the mid-twentieth century corrupt New York City Democratic Party. Then, he ended up owning the buildings and cheating his tenants as much as he could. I guess he was reminiscent of Scrooge.
His heir apparent was supposed to be Mary's father, Freddie, but, clearly, Freddie was not ruthless enough for the old man. Much of the book is a tragic biography of the author's father. Unlike Freddie, the younger Donald exhibited the sociopathic tendencies that Fred admired coupled with the brashness that was never present in the old man's character. Donald was twenty-two when the old man gave him pretty well everything, titular jobs that were paid extremely well for no work and as much money as Donald ever wanted. Donald took the enterprise across into Manhattan, something the old man always wanted but didn't seem to have the guts to do himself.
The book is subtitled "How My Family Created the World's Most Dangerous Man". There is nothing in it that is overly surprising. As a former criminal lawyer, I am very familiar with sociopaths and have seen many examples of their inability to empathize with other human beings. Indeed, that is the Pres. Donald Trump that John Bolton describes, as well.
Mary Trump intends to vote for Joe Biden.
So where does this all take us as we cross our fingers and watch the next two months of the American election campaign? In my case, I have turned to "Humankind, a Hopeful History", by Rutger Bregman. Bregman wrote the book in Dutch but my Dutch is not very good and so I am reading an English translation. (My Duch is nonexistent.) This is Bregman's second book. I read the first one last year and it convinced me, in no uncertain terms, that mankind needs to have a basic income in every national budget.
The thesis in this book is that while we are taught that human beings are supposed to be, by nature, selfish and governed primarily by self-interest, in actual fact we are hardwired for kindness, geared toward cooperation rather than competition, and more inclined to trust rather than distrust one another. He contrasts the philosophies of Hobbes and Rousseau. Hobbes wrote to the effect that before there was organized civil society life was nasty brutish and short, as human beings were driven by fear, fear of the other or fear of death.Thus, we needed to put ourselves in the hands of a sovereign. Rousseau believed that man was naturally good and it was the institutions which made man wicked.
Hobbes has lots of people on his side, starting with most organized religion, and there is a natural assumption that he is right. Bregman sets out to prove, and does so quite convincingly, that Rousseau is right. He looks at the book the Lord of the Flies, a novel which describes boys being marooned on an island and dissolving into murderous anarchy. He researches the author and notes that he came from a dysfunctional family background which would premis this conclusion. Then he tells us about actual situations of the same nature, where the boys became cooperative and looked after themselves.
Bregman contrasts Neanderthal man with Homo sapiens and points out that the Neanderthal man disappeared largely because of fighting within the species, whereas we were cooperative and friendly to each other. He shows us archaeological evidence.
He does tell us that power corrupts. Power, of course, is given to individuals by the structures we create. Leaders of revolutions usually have good motives but,"no sooner is one despot brought down than a new leader stands up and develops an insatiable lust for power."
It is a very interesting book but, of course, we can't tear it down all our structures and institutions without opening all of the negative opportunities that anarchy would bring. What is to good to know, however, is that in the writer's view human beings are pretty good folk.
I think I will go out in the backyard and get some more sun. .
Saturday, 25 July 2020
Our Migrant Farm Workers
Edgar weighs 122 pounds. He cannot eat.. He gets food pumped intravenously into his stomach .There is a plug above his throat which gets removed regularly so that his lungs can get extra oxygen. He has braces on both his legs but cannot put weight on them. Rather, he spends his whole day being pushed around in a wheelchair. He has an accordion type brace on his right arm in order to keep it an appropriate distance from the rest of his body. He wears a bandage on his left hand which can be removed from time to time. When it is removed he tries to grasp the hand of whoever is caring for him.
Edgar recently "celebrated" his thirty-fifth birthday. He lives in the room next door to me at my retirement residence. Needless to say he is, by far, our youngest resident. His mere being here helps keep me from feeling sorry for myself.
On February 6th, 2012 there was a horrible traffic accident just west of Wellesley, on the edge of Waterloo Region. For reasons unknown, a transport truck went through a stop sign and smashed into a bus carrying twelve young migrant workers back to their residence after a full day's work on a southwestern Ontario farm. The drivers of both vehicles and eleven of the twelve workers were killed instantly. Curiously, nobody knew anything about the workers. It took a few days to even find out their home country. All that was known was that they spoke Spanish. (I can't help but contrast that lack of interest with the immense and continued outpouring of real interest in the well-being of the Humboldt Broncos).
The twelfth passenger in the bus, the one who survived, was airlifted for medical care to Hamilton. That passenger was Edgar. His home country, and that of all his former colleagues, is Peru.
Canadians don't really care about the nearly 60,000 migrant farmworkers who come and tend the crops that feed us and the workers know it. My friend, JoAnn Reitzel, sees them from time to time in the Waterdown area of Hamilton, when they come in from nearby farms. She tries to make eye contact with them. Invariably, they shyly look the other way. They must think of themselves as inferior people, a necessary step toward accepting racist treatment.
Recently, we were compelled to pay attention to them when several of them turned out to have tested positive for the coronavirus. Premier Doug Ford, who clearly couldn't care less about their well-being, exhorted them to come forward and get tested." We'll even send buses to take you to get tested" he shouted in English at Queen's Park several hundred kilometres away. He couldn't figure out why they would not come and get tested, even as they were frightened that somehow they would lose their jobs and be automatically sent home. So then he said that they could just go ahead and work alongside each other even if they tested positive.
This is when the Windsor Essex County Health Unit had to step in and order those who tested positive away from work.
Well, then who is going to pick our asparagus? Surely, we wouldn't expect the farm corporation to pay them or look after their lodgings while they are sick, even if they got sick on the job!
That was last week's story. Those who tested positive have been placed in various motels and hotels hotels in the Essex County area. This week, the Windsor Star published an expose showing pictures of the very meagre amount of food these grown men were given to live on in the course of a day. To quote the story with the pictures . "In a small doggy bag take out box are a couple bites of grilled chicken, a modest scoop of plain rice and a few spoonfuls of dried broccoli and carrots. Next to it on the floor, a small bottle of juice. Left outside the motel room door, that's the meal awaiting one of the grown men among the migrant farmworkers placed in isolation after testing positive for COVID-19."
The next day,the Star published reactions from the heads of farm corporations who pointed out that it is not their job to feed the men, but rather that of the Red Cross.
What is wrong with this picture? Why, in this plentiful country do we need to call in the Red Cross in order to feed people? Why do the farm corporations feel no responsibility for the situation?
The Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program was started in 1966. Workers from third world countries, almost always in this hemisphere, leave their families in the spring and work in Canada until the late fall. Then they come again the next year. For many of them this is their whole working life. The money that they earn goes home to feed their families but many of them spend more than half of their lives in this country.
When I was a member of the Immigration and Refugee Board one such man appeared in front of me. He was from Jamaica and had been coming to this country annually for about twenty years. His claim to be a refugee was harmed by the fact that he was continually returning to his home country. That is not a good thing to do if you want to convince me that you will be persecuted there. We only have one life, however, and here was a good man, paying Canadian taxes and employment insurance. I think I bent the law are little bit to let him in. That being said, his case was not appealed. I am not aware of anyone else who tried this route stay in the country
Many working couples who can afford it apply and have caregivers come for their children under a program called the Live-In Caregiver Program. These people can come and stay for as many years as they are needed.. Unlike agricultural workers, they can often switch employers and they can eventually apply for permanent residence in Canada.
What is the difference? I suspect that the difference is that particular Canadian citizens who often know how to tug at the levers of power, grow to know and love particular caregivers. Therefore, they go to bat for them and probably speak to their Members of Parliament on their behalf.
Agricultural workers, on the other hand, don't get to know us personally. They pay Canadian taxes and employment insurance. I think this is wrong. I think that it breeds racism. Further, these are good hard-working people, family people who could become good Canadian citizens. This demographic is more advantageous insofar as paying taxes is concerned than the aged nanny who has no family here I would like to see the law changed to accommodate these farmworkers and to revert to the principal that everyone working in this country should have the right to do so legally and to eventually become a citizen..
As for Edgar, there are questions about him about which I don't know the answers. The big one is who is paying for his residence here in Caroline Place coupled with round-the-clock personal care? I suspect that there has been an insurance settlement. It is the least that we could give him in the circumstances.
Sunday, 5 July 2020
Let's not barter for the two Michaels
In the 1980s, I worked with Mr. Armstrong with regard to Ontario's position vis-à-vis the original free-trade agreement with United States. I will not challenge his expertise on extradition law if he does not challenge mine. I will not challenge his because I have no quarrel with his view in this regard. When a request comes to us to extradite a person to another country it is, indeed, entirely a political decision as to whether or not we wish to place the request before one of our courts. The court merely decides whether or not the accused person has the right to have the charge dismissed, not unlike the right of an accused in a criminal proceeding to have a charge dismissed at the end of a preliminary hearing. If the court does not grant the accused that right, the matter goes back to the political decision-makers, once again, to decide whether or not the extradition proceeds.
When Ms Meng was arrested, the Prime Minister was asked whether or not he had prior knowledge of the event. He indicated that he did. I think we can assume from that that he was also given the legal opinion I have just expressed. He had to decide which bully country he needed to appease, China or the United States. In my view, he clearly made the right decision. His current political problem arises from his insistence on drawing a red herring across the whole issue by saying that he believes in "the rule of law" and is merely following it. No doubt, he wishes to shore up his reputation in that regard.
In other words, Mr. Trudeau could have told United States privately before the plane landed at Vancouver International Airport that we were not going to arrest Ms. Meng. In retrospect, that likely would have been the wiser political decision. But that was 2018. This is 2020. Why, in heaven's name, would we now give in to the world's greatest bully nation? If we started to do that we would be starting on the road of becoming a client country to China. And since to send her home would be an open rebuff to the United States, we could hardly go groveling to them again for help.
I am serious. Now that Xi Jinping is President for life, China is pushing the boundaries with every country it can. Most of the countries are smaller than they are ("Let's take over a port in Sri Lanka while they owe us some money") but now they are getting a little pushy with some countries that are almost as big as they are. I hope everyone noticed that Chinese soldiers recently pushed twenty some Indian soldiers over cliffs to their deaths in the Himalayas. They have placed trade sanctions on Australia because of an argument over the sensitive issue as to how the coronavirus started. They have threatened the auto industry in Germany. A couple of years ago, Pres. Roderigo Duterte of the Philippines indicated that he was planning to cozy up to China instead of the United States. Recently, he changed his mind as their ships got closer and closer to his islands and sunk a Philippine fishing boat. And don't get me started about Africa!
Like a typical bully, they are afraid to pick on somebody their own size. The question has to be asked, since it is United States that laid the charges against their precious corporate leader, why are they transferring their anger to Canada?
There may be situations in which we can accomplish something for Canadian citizens who have been incarcerated by dictatorships. Recently, apparently in part because of a telephone conversation with Prime Minister Trudeau, Pres.Abdul Fathab el Sisi of Egypt had a Canadian engineer, Yasser Ahmed Albaz, released from prison and sent home to Canada. I don't know that we did anything for them in exchange. Remember, however, that Egypt is roughly the same size or smaller than us, politically. Once again, China is bigger and a bully.
My real anger with China coincides with anger at world media and, as a result, non-interest by the public in the fate of the Uyghurs.
Who cares about the Uygurs? There aren't very many of them. Most of the ones who are left still live in the Xinjiang Autonomous Region in northwestern China. They have lived there for many many millenniums, long before the Han people, who now populate the rest of China, discovered them. China now admits to less than 13 million of them. There are 223,000 in Kazakhstan. In the 2016 Census, 1555 people in Canada indicated that they were Uygurs. They are a quiet farming community which, between the tenth and sixteenth centuries, gradually became Sunni Muslims.
Right now, over a million of them are in maximum security prisons where they are being forced to abandon their culture, their language, and their religion. The only way to successfully escape the prison is to convince their ethnic Han captors that they have completely capitulated. The one child rule, which no longer exists in the rest of China, is being strictly enforced in Xinjiang. There is no doubt that this is cultural genocide. I fear that it may be the beginning of complete genocide. And as you can see from the numbers I set out above, a complete genocide, a " final solution" if you will, can easily occur in Xinjiang province and, of course, there would then be more room for Han people to multiply.What they are doing here is not unlike what they did in Tibet. In that case, the Dalai Lama has made the rest of the world, at least, aware.
I have yet to talk about Hong Kong. Obviously, the new national security law fits the pattern. Some observers who understand China better than myself are suggesting that Xi is feeling very insecure in his position and that that is why he is striking out. I don't know. I will say that I think that much of what China does is racist. Why else, for instance, would they claim ownership to Taiwan, when the two countries do not share at a historical past but happen to share the same ethnic background.
300,000 Canadian citizens live in Hong Kong. Many of them will want to come home to Canada, now, and there will be other people who will wish to join them. It is very important that we do not blur the distinction between ethnic Chinese and the People's Republic of China. Under no circumstances, should assumptions be made that put the two together. This is extremely important, more so because of the attitude of the Chinese government and the pressure that they may wish to put on Canadian citizens of Chinese origin. We must all be extremely vigilant and, frankly, protect these people.
Now, Barbara Cook may rue the fact that she asked for my opinion on this. As I understand the new Hong Kong national security legislation, any individual in the world can be charged with subversion of state authority if they criticize the Hong Kong government. Apparently, a young boy has been arrested for holding up a sign that read "Hong Kong Independence" . Clearly, I can be grateful to Trudeau for ending Canada's extradition arrangement with Hong Kong. Perhaps Barbara should be grateful as well. She incited me.
Meanwhile, I am afraid that the two Michaels will have to await another day before they can come home.
Thursday, 25 June 2020
Mankind's Most Noble Profession
The first 8 1/2 months after I fell was spent in a rehabilitation hospital. In the hospital, it is often difficult to tell the difference between nurses and personal support workers (PSW's). In the seven plus years that I have been out, the difference has been quite clear. While nurses often play a similar role, I have stated time and time again that the PSW carries out the most noble professional work known to mankind. More noble than nurses and much much more noble than doctors, lawyers, judges, educators , scientists , businesspeople, politicians, spiritual leaders – you name it.
I say this because I feel it. I feel it in the morning when they bring me my breakfast, when they assist me in getting up and doing my ablutions, when they shower me, when they look after me and check to see if I have any noticeable health problems (which they often report to nurses in my retirement residence). They put me to bed at night; they say good night and turn the lights out. Frankly, because my loving family is out of town, in many ways they become close friends. I look forward to their visits and their help.
Seven years ago, all but one or two of the PSW's who helped me had lived in Canada for only a short period of time. They had almost all come from the Philippines. (One exception came from El Salvador and two other exceptions that I recall were born in Canada). PSW's do wear out quickly and tend to be replaced by people who have not been in the country very long. So far this month, I have been tended to by four women whose home country is the Philippines, two from Haiti as well as one from each of India, Sudan, Nigeria, the Congo, Jamaica, Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Canada. I have also been tended to by six men, one from each of Uganda, the Philippines, Bangladesh, Cameroon, Madagascar and Canada.
The PSW has been in the spotlight in Ontario, lately. The way they are treated is such that you would never know that they are "noble". They have been on the front line of the fight against COVID-19. They have been expected to come into my retirement residence and help me and other people in the community, always themselves free of disease but always in danger of picking up disease and taking it home to their families.
Because they are so poorly paid, in every case that I know until now, they have had to hold two jobs, that is they have worked for two different companies. Now, they have been ordered to only hold one job, but nobody has made it clear as to how they are supposed to put food on the table. They are paid only a little more than minimum wage, and, even although they are in great demand, the companies that hire them on contracts refused to assign them enough work so that that, in any one two-week period, they would be working into overtime and eligible for more pay.. These for-profit companies are retained by the Local Health Integration Network (LHIN) at an almost 50% markup over what they actually pay the workers .These workers are not given priority for Personal Protective Equipment.. They have to wear simple masks which they usually have to obtain themselves. I have only seen one N95 mask, and it was worn by a PSW whose husband brings them home from the auto parts plant where he works.
They go through the emotional turmoil of seeing old people when we die. With the coronavirus here it is not unusual for frightened funeral parlor employees to insist that the PSW deal with the body after death.
The province has set up a commission to investigate the problems in long-term care facilities. It should be a full fledged Public Inquiry. The whole system is a mess and many of us worry as to how we will ever navigate it. If this commission ignores the role of the PSW and how their position should be improved, the future will continue to be frightening for many of us.
I hope that there will always be loving PSW's there to help.
Tuesday, 16 June 2020
Remembering Stuart Smith; remembering Jack Scott
I first met Stuart in 1961, during an ill fated (some might say disastrous) run I made to become the President of the Canadian University Liberal Federation. Stuart was active in the McGill Liberal Club and I was fortunate enough to have his support. Much as I appreciate that, I don't recall seeing him again until he was elected to the Ontario legislature in 1975 when it became my turn to support him.
The 1975 election had been going very well for the Liberals until a very disastrous debate occurred on television which had Premier Bill Davis and Liberal leader Bob Nixon shouting at each other. NDP leader Stephen Lewis picked up the pieces and what might've been a Liberal majority became a Progressive Conservative minority with the Liberals falling to third place. The Liberals remained a party of Southwestern Ontario. One of the few bright spots was Stuart's unexpected victory in Hamilton West.
To have Stuart as a leader seemed to be a blessing and I, for one, was anxious that it happen. In the 1976 election he became Opposition Leader. Then, it seemed to be the case that we might be ready for who would have been a very great Premier. Locally, the campaign seem to be going well. John English and I ran the campaign in Kitchener and always felt very good about what was going to happen across the whole province. It didn't.
Stuart went on to a number of different roles in life. I am proud of the fact that he did not try to continue to be a politician, although that meant that I never had a chance to really work with him. He knew when his time had come and and when it had gone. Eventually, in 1985, we were able to sweep many urban ridings with David Peterson as our leader and form a government. I was fortunate enough to be among those who were elected at that time. I think we all should be grateful for Stuart in that he paved the way.
Stuart died a few days ago. He was eighty-two.
Remembering Jack Scott
Jack played a very different role in my life. From the early 70s, he owned the cottage next to mine at Skootamatta Lake. Over the course of several decades, what started as a rather tense relationship grew to be a warm and loving one.
Jack and Louise bought their cottage when their four children were young. At the time, they closed a small store they ran in Roblin Ontario and Jack took early retirement from the Ontario Provincial Police. It may have been his occupation that made things a little tense at first but, eventually, we got to be best friends – and choral buddies (especially after a couple of rye and cokes).
Jack was the salt of the earth. He and Louise moved to the cottage and made it their permanent residence in retirement. This was a godsend to me as he proceeded to look after my cottage in my absence. Even into his 70s, he thought nothing of jumping up on my roof if he thought that was needed.
It is hard to believe that this happened in Ontario in my generation, but Jack went to a one room school north of Napanee with a stove in the middle of the room to heat it. He had one teacher for all eight grades. In other words, she was the only teacher he ever had. To quote Jack," I think she liked me". After grade 8 he went to work on his father's farm. Jack knew a lot about life and lived it with a very strong moral code- completely devoid of prejudices.
Jack was eighty-eight when he died a few days ago.
May Stuart and Jack both rest in peace..