It is easy to be content when one is looking at the world from a warm, comfortable home, but for the past three weeks I have not been content.
I believe in the right to lawful protest but not the way it was done in Ottawa. I believe in personal choice and that, with each decision, we accept the consequences of our decision. If I do not like the consequences, I reassess my decision and either change it or accept the consequences. I do not ignore scientific information, and I do not try to “change the world” so my decisions have no consequences.

For the past three weeks, I have watched the misnamed ‘Freedom Convoy’ negatively impact the rights of Ottawa citizens and businesses and the rights of people clear across the country. I have watched my country become divided and angry. Now the Ottawa Occupation may be over, but a dangerous, angry seed has been planted. I fear the fruit it will be bear.

I was upset by what I saw and read and by supporters whose perception of freedom contradicted mine. I made the decision to not respond to their distortions on Facebook, because I was afraid of a backlash and being drawn into a debate by persons who wanted me to listen to them but would not take my words seriously. I was afraid of their anger and thought “what good would it do anyway.”

I am now reassessing that decision, because I do not like the potential consequences of silence. I am uncomfortable because silence is a betrayal of my heritage. My maternal grandfather was a Jew in Occupied Holland. My father chose to join the Canadian Forces and fought for freedom and the Liberation of Holland. I was brought up believing that we make decisions for the greater good. My definition of freedom is influenced by the past, and it is in conflict with the protestors’ use of the word.
I felt my views being drowned out by noise and values contrary to mine, and I need to emphasize that my silence is not my consent.

I have always looked out my window and found my comfort in nature.
This week, however, what I saw from my window reflected my unease. Or maybe my anxiety is impacting how I see things

The pileated woodpecker chose an unexpected perch high in a poplar tree. His head never stopped as he scanned every direction.

The deer were more vigilant than usual, alert for any danger.

Even the squirrel looked worried.

Canada has been shaken by the pandemic. We have been standing together to reduce infection, to reduce hospitalizations and deaths and to protect our families.
Yes, we are all tired, but I don’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I do not want a rowdy crowd to speak for my country.