I'm staying for the week at my best friend's condo in Vancouver, while she and her husband are in Australia. It is a lovely place, 15th floor of a new building, views of the city, mountains and water. It is also only 3 blocks from Canada's poorest neighbourhood..the Downtown Eastside.
Hastings and Main is the epicentre. When I first moved to Vancouver as an excited 17 year old in 1983, my girlfriend and I would often walk through that part of town, taking in the "colour" and shopping at Woodwards, Cabbages and Kinx, The Underground...all the stuff small town girls didn't have the opportunity to experience. I never felt unsafe then. I always saw the people as just slightly edgy characters, people John Steinbeck would have written about. When I moved downtown in the early 1990's, I made a point of driving through the neighbourhood on my way back from University classes every week. I wanted to be aware of what was happening in this area; I did not want to live in oblivion in the trendy West End. I was dismayed. the people were more in number and sicker than I recalled.
Last night, I got back to my friend's condo very late. I made a point to drive through the Downtown Eastside neighbourhood, to update my awareness of the local situation. I winced. "This is wrong" forced its way out of my mouth, to no one who was listening. These are our people. This is Canada. Shopping carts, cardboard boxes and chemicals do not make a home. This is wrong.
How can we comment on the rest of the world, how can we pat ourselves on the back for being granted the opportunity to "host the world" in 2010? We have forgotten our sons and daughters on the street, and their numbers have increased exponentially. They are sick, and we are failing them.
I have no problems. I am ashamed that I complained. There but for the grace of God.....
Happy Birthday Canada...instead of cake, I will be eating humble pie....
Q
Are you sitting down?
11 years ago
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2 comments:
I have come to realize that there are many people worse off than I am. I've decided to help them one at a time. I'm devoting my life to giving someone anyone a leg up however I can at any moment.
Alix.
Alix, I'm so glad to hear from you! I have been wondering how you are. You are right; our own pain is always relative, we can always see those so much worse off (and those we think are better off frequently have hidden demons). Your compassion for others is so commendable. One at a time is a really important statement, because otherwise one can tend to feel overwhelmed at the enormity of the situation and then feel helpless. Your caring and compassion is both your strength and that which makes you vulnerable to feeling down--when you care so much, pain is often a side effect. The universe thanks you! Stay in touch.
Q
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