#OccupyWallStreet #OccupyCanada #Occupy...Winnipeg?

"The poor have no choice."  (James S. Woodsworth)

When one is on a long journey, sometimes it's a good idea to stop and look back.  You can take heart in how far you've come and what you've accomplished, or realise that it's time to change direction.

Working in a municipal archive, I have more opportunity than most to look back, and accidental discoveries have given me a better picture of where we've been, who we were and how we've changed.

One discovery was the record of a man who appeared before a rural municipal council, requesting assistance, as he could not work. A veteran, he had lost his leg in WWI and his wooden prosthesis had broken.  The council refused him, advising him to get an axe, go out to the woods and cut himself a new one.  Yes, really.

Another was a collection of old metal ballot boxes, obviously manufactured at the same time, but of curiously disparate sizes – from very large to oddly small - each marked with a different ward designation.  As today's electoral boundaries are generally placed according to population and our ballot boxes are fairly uniform, these gave me pause and I puzzled over them for a time before doing the obvious and asking about them.

The answer continues to give me pause.

Apparently, when laws expanded to give all Canadian men, titleholder or not, the right to vote, the ruling class was concerned about giving so much control to the newer citizens who may have been less inclined to maintain the status quo.  So, the boundaries were drawn according to size, regardless of population.

Thus, the largest ballot box was for a ward where the immigrants lived packed and stacked in close quarters on small lots, and the smallest was for a wealthy area, where the lots were huge and the number of eligible voters was not.  So, one alderman represented hundreds while another represented a handful.  Crazy, but true.

Some things do not change.  Those with power and control are not inclined to share it.

I've also heard many stories about the 1919 General Strike.  Coming from immigrant stock myself, they touch me deeply.  I've tried to imagine what it would be like to leave everything and everyone familiar for a dream of freedom and opportunity in a country where I don't know the laws, customs or language.  It's frightening to think how vulnerable I'd be.

Of course, one would adjust as best as one could, accepting whatever work was offered at whatever pay because one must live; and many were obligated to send money back to "the old country", often with letters filled with false tales of hope and optimism as the sender couldn't bear to burden those left behind with the harsh reality of immigrant life.

These tales spread and encouraged others to risk everything to take the one-way trip to Canada.  In such a huge, young country, there would be plenty for everyone – land to farm and space to build and endless possibilities that simply did not exist for common people in their birthlands.

The more that came, the less there was for them.  Supply and demand kept wages low.  Dreams of prosperity rarely materialised.  Securing citizenship did not improve your lot and you and yours were still treated as "foreigners."

It's been said that addicts have to hit bottom before they will admit to having a problem.  Perhaps it's just human nature to be blind to a problem until you are trapped and there is nowhere left to go and nothing left to lose.  Desperation is powerful motivation for change and fear is what you have when hope is gone.

During Winnipeg's General Strike, there were many marches, rallies and protests.  Participants faced the very real threat of arrest and deportation.  The upper class particularly feared that the Eastern Europeans wanted to lead a Bolshevik revolution here on the Prairies.  The marches were peaceful, and silent, so as not to provoke law enforcement.

Imagine how eerie that would be:  hundreds or thousands of men, women and children walking without shouting or singing or chanting, only their footsteps, their shifting garments, sporadic whispers and shushing of children to mark their passing.

Typically, the protests focused on the places of power - city hall or the business centre.  Then, one march brought their concerns nearly to the doorsteps of the powerful, right along the street fronting their estates.

The protesters gathered at the foot of the Maryland Bridge and set out across it to Wellington Crescent, where most of them had never been before.  As they walked without speaking past the mansions on huge, park-like lots, many of the strikers wept.

In "the old country", only royalty lived so ostentatiously, in rare, palatial homes.  Here, in Winnipeg – this small city! – there was a whole, long street of palaces!  And there, that is where the man who owns my company lives!  How can it be that they have so much – so much more than they can ever use! – and they will not spare us enough to be safely fed, clothed, sheltered and warm?  Can it be that this place is no better than the one I left behind?  That people like us will always toil to serve and will never know a life without want?

Eyes opened, the working people, and their children, fought on and on, slowly earning the rights and freedoms that most of my generation takes for granted:  safe working conditions, minimum wages, pensions, benefits, overtime pay, parental leave, sick leave, workers compensation, health care, limited hours of work, vacation time . . .  It's a long list and it's surprising to consider that we haven't had these improvements for very long. 

Even more surprising that there are those who believe we shouldn't have them at all; that any part of a social safety net meant to catch you when you fall and help you up again is ridiculous, unreasonable and expensive.

Many years after the General Strike, my grandmother learned to cut slices of bread so thin you could read a newspaper through them.  It was a skill she needed when my grandfather and his co-workers at Canada Packers were on strike.  To feed everyone on the picket line, the sandwiches were as thin as the soup.

Years later, when my mother was 15, they moved into their first house with running water and an indoor toilet.

My grandparents were proud to own their small house and even more proud of the city they helped build.  Their municipal taxes were invested by the City, for its citizens:  in asphalt plants and quarries to supply materials to build and maintain roads, sidewalks and bridges; in trucks and landfills to collect waste; in pipes and facilities to expand clean water delivery and wastewater treatment; to build and maintain parks, pools, community centres, arenas, sports fields, golf courses, playgrounds, parkades, hospitals, schools, museums and libraries. 

As citizens of Winnipeg, my grandparents owned everything the city owned and had a right to enjoy and share it.  Ownership is insurance against market forces.  If anyone had told them they paid too much in taxes, they would have laughed – "Look at what our taxes do!  It's worth it!"

As much as I miss my grandparents, I am glad they are gone.  They wouldn't like what we've done with the place. 

We've sold every asphalt plant, quarry and garbage truck and are barely hanging on to our last landfill.  We sold off or centralised most municipal services, often sacrificing good, secure jobs, convenience, accountability and quality delivery.  Most street repairs and snow clearing are done by lowest-bid contractors.  Our infrastructure is crumbling, our arenas are moldering, our golf courses are for sale, our community centres are disappearing and, cheap, miserly lot that we are, we continue to look for things to sell and cut.  We cut through the fat and the meat, hit bone and keep industriously chipping away at it.

They would have wondered what happened to our conscience and would have been appalled that we begrudge every tax dollar, that we demand government be run as a profit-making business, rather than a public service.

On this day, on what I hope will be a long journey of my life, I've stopped, looked back and, having seen where I and my city have been and where we appear to be going, I realise it is time to change direction.

In 1919, people acknowledged that trying to change their world within the confines of the established system wasn't working and wasn't going to work.  Less than 100 years later, here we are again.  Most of us have not yet lost our homes and our hope, but we can feel the ground beneath us is not as solid as we'd thought.  Not only are we losing ground, but our eyes are also open to the reality that many of our neighbours have no ground at all:  we are exploiting temporary foreign workers with few rights at all and we STILL have indigenous people fighting to get out of the hole we tossed them into - and we keep adding traps and obstacles to keep them there.

In the 21^st century, humanity's biggest failure isn't the lack of flying cars and moon colonies, it's that we had such a tenuous grasp on fairness and decency that we didn't even notice when they'd slipped away.

We've played by the rules, followed the system, and let greed decide our direction.  We've allowed unsustainable development, exploitation of the commons, commodification of our resources and, well, it's not working for most of Earth's inhabitants – or Earth, for that matter.

In 1919, millions of working people stood up and changed direction by refusing to work.

In 2011, people are standing up and changing direction by seizing, holding and filling a space.  From Tahrir Square to Wall Street and beyond, they Occupy.

On October 15, on the Winnipeg streets once proudly walked by my grandparents, I will join them.

An Open Letter to the Conservatives Harshing My Mellow on Twitter

Dear Conservative Twits:

While I appreciate your need to defend the indefensible and the right to be wrong about the Right, insults and bitter retorts will not improve your credibility.  Just trying to help you out.

Experience and reason DO change people's minds and I can prove it:

I used to be an extreme right-wing Libertarian.  Oh, yes, I did.

I resented being forced to pay union dues.  I resented seniority.  I supported an unfettered free market.  I liked big business and small government because I believed that in the pursuit of profit, it made sense for business to do the right thing; government, on the other hand, was led by a desire to be re-elected to continue to feed at the trough.

One day I woke to realise I was wrong.  My skills were appreciated but my abilities were being exploited.  My boss loved that I worked unpaid overtime, took on duties way beyond my classification and ignored my rights under the collective agreement, but I received nothing in return, not even a little consideration when I suffered a serious medical emergency and had to take a short leave.

I started to do a little research into unions - their histories, their fights that led to benefits enjoyed by people all over the world whether they were union members or not.  Unions led the fight for human rights.  Business did not award legislated rights such as safe working conditions, hours of work, pensions, benefits, parental leaves, etc. out of the goodness of their hearts in the interest of providing a better work life for employes - unions fought hard for all this and more.

And they continue to do so.

No one likes to admit they were wrong.  I am especially inept at this, having had so few opportunities to do so. 

(Kidding)

However, in the face of over-whelming evidence, I had to cross the House on a personal level and shift my internal paradigm.

Finally, as a Christian who believes two commandments cover all God's Law -- Love God with all your heart and soul; Love your neighbour as yourself -- I had to conclude that an unfettered free market was not particularly loving to most citizens.  Either my personal political beliefs had to change or my spirituality had to; I couldn't retain both.

I chose my political leanings after a great deal of experience and research. I hope you did, too.

Thoughts on a Filibuster

Can I get a "WOW"? Just look at all those women! I couldn't stop grinning as woman after woman after woman rose and spoke. What happened to all the arrogant white dudes?  Oh, they're posturing and questioning.  I guess someone noticed as the past few questions have been lobbed by female CPC MPs.

Aside from the feeling that I might watch CPAC more often now, and that it was rotten to schedule this vote on St. Jean Baptiste Day, here are some random thoughts:

1. The Conservatives keep stating they represent the majority of Canadians and they have the right to send postal workers back to work, so they will.  However, just because you have the right to do something doesn't mean it is the right thing to do.

2.  MP Hoeppner stated 70 percent of Canadians want their mail.  Well, 100 percent of Canadians would like to retire with dignity.  One of the many things CUPW is fighting for is a fair pension for its current and future members.  Whether the majority of Canadians know it or not, they want exactly what CUPW is fighting for.

3.  PM Harper prorogued parliament twice, shutting down the entire federal government for months and forcing dozen of bills before the House to start from scratch.  On purpose.  Not once, but twice.  The first was from December 4, 2008 to January 26, 2009.  The second from December 30, 2009 to March 3, 2010.  This is considerably longer than the Canada Post lock-out, which is on Day 22 and has prompted Bill C-6 to force the postal workers back to the work they didn't walk away from voluntarily.  I would have to conclude Harper believes Canada Post is more vital to our country than the federal government.  Considering the priorities of the majority Conservatives, I'd have to agree with him.

4.  A number of Conservative MPs have read emails from small business people saying how much they needed Canada Post services.  One even said she didn't want to pay Fed Ex rates.  Will that convince the Conservatives not to privatise Canada Post services?  Don't be silly.

5.  The NDP Official Opposition was accused of holding Parliament hostage with the filibuster.  They were called "Pirates." Well, whatever you want to call it, I look forward to the Hansard transcriptions which will be on the public record.  Forever.  For future generations of workers, it will be clear who was responsible for eroding their rights.

6.  A number of NDP MPs shared valuable stories of the dedication of CUPW members.  Did you know many volunteered to ensure the delivery of CPP, Old Age Security, Veterans' Affairs and Canada Tax Benefit cheques, Quebec's Child Assistance, Pension and Income Security cheques as well as Alberta Pension cheques?  If it didn't affect you, you may have missed this display of CUPW's desire to go above and beyond in the service of the people of Canada.  Remember this the next time someone tells you unions are concerned only with their bottom line.  Plus, CUPW workers left the line to find a variety of live shipments -- including queen bees which, apparently, private delivery services will not handle; another reason NOT to privatise Canada Post!

7.  Harper's Conservatives toe the line.  His line.  It isn't a surprise, of course, but I am always disappointed when people elected to serve the best interests of their constituents choose to serve their Party instead.  I'm naive that way.  CUPW had engaged in rotating strikes which disrupted, but did not halt, mail service.  Canada Post responded by locking them out.  Harper responded by forcing them back to work at a lower rate than the last wage offer from Canada Post at the Bargaining Table.  Shame.

If Harper's goal was simply to return our Posties to work and get the mail moving again, he could have introduced a bill that forced Canada Post to unlock the doors and get back to the Table.  He didn't because it wasn't.  His goal was to make it clear he is in charge and, by golly, things are gonna get ugly every time someone forgets it.

As the clock counts down to the C-6 vote call, I know how it's going to end.  We all do.

But I have to send my appreciation to the federal NDP MPs who spoke so long and so well for working people.  I am grateful for their strong presence in the House of Commons.  Do do that voodoo that you do so well!

I also send my appreciation to my brothers and sisters in CUPW for your brave efforts to stand firm for all Canadian workers.