Canada's Convey Protest Is Causing Further Trauma

I’ve been on the front line.

I know what it’s like to feel so passionately about something, that it literally forces you to get up from your seat.

Sometimes, you do it not knowing if it will make a difference or if anyone will care.

I know what it’s like to be on the front line of education and see what disparities exist in our schools.

I know what it’s like to carry mental illness and chronic disease in a place that doesn’t have supports, or is severely lacking.

I know what it’s like to care for a child who is disabled and not have access to the things he needs.

I know the weight of trauma from domestic abuse, and what it’s like to be the only woman in a room full of men.

I know what it’s like to be mocked and bullied because I didn’t fit in.

I know what it feels like to be without a home.

I’ve walked the front line. Sometimes alone.

But I’ve never taken someone else’s peace to do it.

Never have I threatened anyone with words or physical violence.

Never have I desecrated memorials or stepped on the graves of the brave.

Never have I blocked others from billions in revenue, or cost my government millions in protective measures.

Never have I asked police to risk their lives in sub-degree weather to protect me and others from attacking others.

Never have I used children as human shields at border crossings.

And I certainly never brought ammunition and threatened lives.

The blockades in Canada don’t represent the Canadians who have suffered throughout the pandemic.

The ones who did what they needed to stay alive and to help save others.

The ones who now need rest and healing from the trauma they’ve endured from a global pandemic.

The blockades aren’t Canadian.

They don’t speak for us, and they don’t give us hope.

I’ve been on the front line in the cold, in meetings with government officials, on the phone with community agencies, and sitting on the floors of places writing letters because I didn’t have access to a computer.

I’m on the floor right now writing this from my phone.

For the people who are at the trucker blockades, I beg you to go home.

Because one day, all of this will end. So will the mandates and all that came with this insidious disease.

But what I fear will stay behind, is a division that is so severed I’m not sure how we will ever recover.

Canadians are being traumatized by these blockades. The noise, the anger, the overt images of the Confederate flag, and massive vehicles. Images of calling for the death of our Prime Minister and all who support him.

One truck had a noose tied to the front.

You are traumatizing us.

Our mental health is being affected.

It all crushes us.

People like me.

Please go home.

And be part of the healing that we all so desperately need.

I will defend someone’s freedom, and every other Canadian’s right to disagree.

But not this.

Not like this.