The view from up here
In the 1998 film Beaches, we watch the life and growth of CC Bloom (played by the Divine Miss M, Bette Midler) from a sassy talented kid to a global celebrity, singer, and actor. An iconic quote comes from an older CC waxing about her life. She turns to the other person and says, “But enough about me. What about you? What do you think about me?”
That’s not quite what I am hearing from Americans. Lots of people want to know what I, as a Canadian, think about the political situation in the US, but I think they mostly want to know what I am hearing about the US. Almost as if they can’t trust their media to tell them the truth… hmmm.
The relationship between Canada and the US is as old as our countries. We have fought battles but, for the most part, we have been more than allies. We have been each other’s strongest economic partners and our friendly ties run deep. We share the world’s longest international border, cutting through towns, lakes, rivers, even an opera house. Through our UN and NATO alliances we have fought wars side by side. Over a million Americans live in Canada, and about a million Canadians live in the US.
I can’t speak for all Canadians, but I’d say, in general, Canadians care deeply about what is happening in the US for a few reasons. First, our economy is very dependent on the free trade we have, so any impacts on the US economy have a direct impact on our livelihoods and our lives. Second, many of us either have lived in the US or have relations in the US. We are very concerned about the people we love there, and we have fond memories of the communities and workplaces that included us. Third, American culture has a huge influence on Canadian culture. American music and television are so pervasive here that we have laws stating how much Canadian content a broadcaster must play each day or, in the case of streaming, have as part of their library.
As for me, I am observing all this from a few locations. Obviously, as a Canadian, but I also have family in the US on both coasts. Most of our Harboristas live in the US, and I care deeply about the welfare of each and every one. As a queer woman, I have listened to the rhetoric against me and my communities ramp up as Christian Nationalism breaks through our borders (this summer Sean Feucht came to Canada and it took protests in every city for his permits to be taken away).
So, for what it is worth, here are a few more reflections from a Canadian.
I’m sad: I was reminded by a friend recently that Americans are currently in active trauma brought on by the conflicts from a rising fascist state. I do not know a single American who is not regularly presenting signs of being traumatized: exhaustion, defensiveness, irritability, and displaced anger (sorry guys). I hate seeing my friends and family like this. It makes me incredibly sad. I’m also sad because I am a generally hopeful person (see below). I still see the good and the possibilities that exist in the US, and it saddens me when others can’t.
I’m worried: From what I know of history, this is not as bad as it can get. This is not even the worst it has ever been, even if you include environmental destruction (check out the year 536). People are dying under these new policies and more will die. I am worried about how that will affect politics, culture, and the economy in Canada. Mostly, though, I’m worried about the toll this is going to take on people I love.
I’m confused: It is not a secret that I am not attending our Harbor Retreat in North Carolina next month. I have researched and weighed the risks and it does not seem safe to me. I was wondering the other day why I was so quick to go to Pakistan for a friend’s wedding, but not the US, which is arguably safer right now. It’s the chaos, like I wrote about here. There is no way for me to prepare myself for what I don’t know will happen, and, under the current circumstances, anything could happen.
I’m hopeful: I have lived long enough to see the capacity of people to fight and win against oppression. Protest movements have changed governments, improved conditions for women, released prisoners, improved rights for racialised people, guaranteed safe labour practices, and saved lives. At some point, I know we will be able to see above the fog of trauma and find a way forward in defiance.
In the meantime, we are here. Resistance is part of the foundations of Harbor, resisting the toxic and harmful teachings of churches that were more concerned with holding power over us than with love or the Gospel. We will continue to cultivate joy and hope together because we can anchor our faith in those who have fought before us—and in those who join us today.
