Coming soon...

...to a screen near you. A blank screen where there used to be an art known as comedic satire.  

First, it was Stephen Colbert's show getting notice. Now, it's Jimmy Kimmel getting yanked. 

So much for freedom of speech. 

To think that it was way last November that I wrote this:

Fractured Unity

(with gratitude to Martin Niemoller)

 

First they came for the truthtellers:

the journalists whose words aimed

to capture events, present them with

accuracy and fairness.

 

Then for the librarians, unafraid to defend

the sanctity of books, and all they hold

within their pages, even when small minds

choose to challenge what they contain.

 

After that, the teachers, whose loyalties rest always

with the children entrusted to them, guiding and

protecting them from hate and other abuse,

encouraging as they grow, like wide-faced flowers in the sun.

 

Who will remain once the truthtellers are gone?

Only the liars who know to twist words, bending them to their own mean ends.

While those who have been duped will stand open-mouthed 

hungry and broken, by having been deceived.

We can only wonder just who will be next.  

 

 

 

Ideas and thoughts beyond our own

Last week I had the good fortune of being a 'book' of sorts in a 'human library' at a secondary school here in the Lower Mainland. I'll admit that I wondered why I should be selected for such a project, but it turned out that students had plenty of questions for me. 

Because I used to work in a library, the place felt familiar in many ways. Lots of books, yes. A bank of computer stations, yes. Tables and chairs arranged around the room. Best of all, young faces asking me (often shyly) about my own books, about writing in general, and of course, what had attracted me to write a book about Amelia Earhart. The question that made me stumble, I think, was from a Grade 11 boy who asked for my definitive idea of what had really become of her. As if I might be able to provide a reasonable answer!

I'll admit that during breaks, I wandered the stacks, looking at the collection. While I was especially impressed by the many books there by Indigenous authors, I was surprised to spot a couple of books that have been pulled by many libraries. Why? Because those authors aren't exactly what they've claimed to be, their heritage isn't really Indigenous. 

When I spoke with the librarian about this, she explained that it was an issue they were still dealing with. Clearly, it presented a conflict that staff there were trying to draw some lines around. When (if ever) should a book be removed from a library? When should readers be denied the opportunity to decide for themselves?

Such questions are exactly why we observe Freedom to Read Week. There was a terrific piece by the head of the Calgary Library System offering some strong thoughts in 'Why our fight for intellectual freedom matters for all Canadians.'

I especially loved her closing line: "I don't always agree with everything on library shelves, but I will always fight for your right to read it." Exactly. 

Hope in the face of horror

As we approach tomorrow's hideous anniversary of Russia's invasion of Ukraine, I am prompted to do something I don't usually do by posting a poem of my own. 

This also happens to be Freedom to Read Week, so I've been thinking about freedom -- as well as loss thereof, the situation now in far too many countries. Journalists and protesters are being executed in Iran; their colleagues in Russia are disappearing or being sent to prison. 

Thankfully, I remain free to write and publish here in Canada. My poem was included in a collection called Poems in Response to Peril. Proceeds of sales of the anthology go to funds in support of Ukraine. And yes, I am hoping for a resolution to the hideous events that continue across the globe.  

Finding hope

This morning I am feeding the birds, replenishing

supplies in the little cracked saucer, the one that’s sheltered

on the window ledge all winter again.

 

I’m filling it with seeds, still tight in their shells,

ones I hope the birds will disperse, carrying them

far and beyond—sunflowers that will rise up

 

from the broken earth. I am putting my faith

in their sturdy resilience, counting on them to grow tall

and turn their golden faces to the sun.

 

Free to read...for now

Today marks the beginning of Freedom to Read Week in Canada. It's a celebration I've been participating in for quite a few years. Being a writer, I also consider this a time to be grateful that we still have the freedom to write what we believe.

I'm somewhat concerned that may not remain the case. There's the matter of Bill C-51, currently on the Parliamentary agenda. While it's supposed to protect us, there are aspects of it that seem downright scary -- especially for those of us who may occasionally express contrarian positions.

When I was in my local bookstore today, I was glad to see that they have a display of books that have been challenged in the past. If you're interested in the range of materials that have been questioned, here's a list of thirty-three such titles.

A title I'm worried about is When Everything Feels Like the Movies. It's currently a finalist on this year's Canada Reads and it won the Governor General's Award last year. But now there's a contingent of frantics (my name for them) who are challenging the book's content, claiming it shouldn't have been allowed to win the GG and that the award should be rescinded.

All I can suggest is that you read it for yourself. Quick. While you still have the freedom to.

Flowers for Charlie

These are my small attempts at bringing spring into the house. Tulips which I bought for myself -- a small extravagance to offset the dark week that has just passed. Interesting, I think, that they get their name from the cloth used to wrap a turban. And pink ones are supposed to indicate 'caring'.

The paper-white narcissus companions have joined the tulips, though they're in their own vase. These are the ones that I forced early in December. They bloomed, but then started sagging under the weight of their blossoms. So I cut their stems and put them into water. Their sweet fragrance fills me with hope that spring is near, as do the bulbs poking up their tips in the garden.

Today, Charlie Hebdo has published a new edition, this time depicting an image of Muhammad under a banner of forgiveness. In the image, he is proclaiming (as we all have been saying), Je suis Charlie,

More than ever, the words that guided the French Revolution -- liberté, égalité, fraternité -- are echoing through the streets of Paris, and all around the world. It's time to erase our differences, or at least thoughts of fighting over them.

Protectors of the Mountain: Standing up for all of us

Yesterday the arrests began on Burnaby Mountain. Kinder Morgan's injunction against the protest by the protectors was enforced by the RCMP, many of whom looked less than enthusiastic about the job they were required to do.

KM's lawsuit against some of the protectors certainly contains some absurdities. Consider this line from the Dark Mountain Manifesto, a document worth reading: "It is hard, today, to imagine that the word of a poet was once feared by a king." Yet, despite the fact that the 'king' is now a corporate 'king' rather than a person, that is exactly what has happened. A poet is amongst those being charged, and his poetry has been offered as evidence against him.

These photos were taken earlier in the week, when the weather was much kinder (that's 'kinder' as in 'gentler' not as in the name of Richard Kinder, the person who established the Kinder Morgan corporate entity), before the injunction was being fully enforced.

Today, even in the rain -- and bearing in mind the ongoing arrests -- people have gathered, this despite the road being blocked and the trek to the site being a steep uphill climb.

Fortunately, the City of Burnaby's mayor and Council are continuing with their own injunction in their ongoing attempts to protect the conservation area on Burnaby Mountain, where surveying and potential drilling are to occur. Machinery arrived on the mountain earlier today. I can only hope there is some way of blocking the kind of devastation that occurred earlier this month at the Blaauw Eco-Forest. When I head up there again next week, I will see for myself.

In the meantime, I can only pay attention to news reports and, I admit it, worty.

I fear that if Burnaby's court action does not result in protecting that city's bylaws (the ones that have been contravened by KM's cutting of trees), the laws of all cities and municipalities in Canada will experience the same fate -- that their bylaws (especially conservation ones) will be meaningless. Can you say (without choking) "pipelines in Stanley Park"?