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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2018-08-23, Page 5Recently, while watching the Blyth Festival’s production of Wing Night at the Boot, I was struck again by how much more complex a small community is than it appears from the outside. For one thing, there’s that term “community” that we tend to throw around a lot. It makes it sound like a small town is a unified entity when actually it’s made up of a whole lot of groupings of people which, taken as a whole, creates the dynamic community. That was exactly the lesson in watching Wing Night at the Boot. As the actors portrayed characters, some familiar, some not, who frequented the Boot (the nickname for the Blyth Inn but the scene might as easily have been the now-demolished Brussels Inn or any of the other hotels that once were prominent businesses on Huron County’s main streets), I was struck by the fact they were part of a little society mostly unknown to me. I’ve walked by that building most days for the last 46 years. I’ve eaten lunch there frequently and dinner now and then. The Boot has hosted family celebrations from my parents’ wedding anniversary in the old dining room to a recent birthday party. I’ve even spent a few late nights in the bar, particularly when I was more deeply involved in the Blyth Festival and company members wound down from a performance by relaxing in the bar for an hour or so. Yet the people depicted on stage were part of a little world that was as strange to me as if I was peeking in from outer space. Our communities are like that. They’re really made up of many little circles of people who work, play and volunteer together. We have little circles where we work, where we go to church, in the service clubs we join, in the curling or golf clubs where we play. For 50 years as a reporter and editor, I got to peek inside the little worlds that grow up among the people who come together for various purposes. Called in to take a photo at a Lions or Kinsmen or Women’s Institute meeting, I’d often witness a bit of the group’s activities from the inside while I waited for the appropriate time. Covering breakfasts or dinners the groups sponsored would also make you feel as if you knew quite a bit about these people, but you really just skimmed the surface. Often these circles tend to overlap. The people who peel the potatoes at a service club dinner may also be part of a church group or the horticultural or agricultural societies. Some groups tend to be fluid. For a few years when my kids were young, I met a couple of times a week with other parents whose kids played ball or hockey and we developed friendships. As the kids grew up and moved on, I was no longer an insider at the arena or the ball park but someone who dropped in periodically to take photos of other people’s kids in action. Some groups are more long term. Those who stay in the community often are part of their church’s society from Sunday school to old age, their spiritual life providing a comforting constancy throughout their lives. People can live within their families and one or two of these groupings and seldom cross borders to interact significantly with people from other groups. Sometimes something comes along that’s so big, such as hosting the International Plowing Match last year, that it brings many of these groups together to work for the greater good. I remember many local villages uniting when their arenas were closed down 40 years ago. Sometimes there are ongoing events that bring people together like the annual Belgrave Fowl Supper or the Belmore Maple Syrup Festival. Mostly, though, we just go along within our own little circles, only vaguely aware of what people in other circles are doing. So while those people being portrayed in Wing Night at the Boot were caught up in the practical jokes and rivalries and friendships that created a distinct world for them, I was mostly oblivious. My world revolved around the people I worked with at the newspaper, various capacities with the Blyth Festival, the local business organizations, farm organizations I worked closely with and, of course, my family. Our circles hardly ever intersected. And yet it takes the sum total of everyone to create the unique personality that every small town and village seems to develop. People talk a lot about diversity these days but usually only in terms of ethnic and cultural diversity. Yet even small towns that seem pretty vanilla-ish to outsiders, have a diverse population of people with different interests, skills, education levels, work ethics and financial abilities. It takes this blend to make a community work – even if we don’t always understand the value that people unlike us bring to the community. Other Views Bernier taking the party with him Keith Roulston From the cluttered desk A small community is complicated Shawn Loughlin Shawn’s Sense Conservative MP Maxime Bernier is quickly becoming the poster child for what’s wrong with the current Canadian political climate. Bernier, who was narrowly ousted in his bid for leadership of the national Conservative Party by Andrew Scheer last year, has recently been taking Prime Minister Justin Trudeau to task over, of all things, multiculturalism. Now, when I was growing up, there was a really simple lesson that was taught regarding Canada in contrast to our neighbours to the south: the melting pot versus the salad bowl. Our neighbours to the south were the melting pot: everyone who came in became part of the larger dish. Regardless of where you came from you were (erroneously) considered American. (Erroneously because American should, if we’re following linguistic rules, be the term describing everyone from South America and North America.) Canada was the salad bowl. Each of us retains our own history, ethnicity, religion and beliefs but we come together to form something great. I’ve heard other takes on it like the cake versus fruit salad, for example, a blanket versus a quilt or a bag full of peanuts versus cans of mixed nuts (we’re all a little nuts). Regardless of how you explain it, Canada was the place where different people came together to form something greater than the sum of their parts while the United States was a place where everyone became part of the same fabric and narrative. There wasn’t a negative connotation behind it: it was just a simple way to explain that Canada was a nation of multiculturalism whereas the United States was a place people came to live the American dream. So to label Canada as anything but extremely multicultural seems a little bit like calling an orange too orange. Can it really be anything else? Bernier thinks so. Either that, or he’s trying to dismantle the Conservative Party from the inside after not winning the election. He says that the Liberal approach to multiculturalism is going to lead to a culture of government dependence and will damage the fabric of the country. He tweeted about those “refusing to integrate” into our society and, to me, the lack of integration is what’s always made Canada great: as a country, aside from following the rules, we don’t expect people to toe some kind of national line. As many people likely know, I’ve tied myself to my family’s Scottish ancestry. Let me make this clear: I’m Canadian. I’m the kind of Canadian where you couldn’t pick me out in a line of people standing against the boards sipping a double-double during the Friday night Junior game. I’ve got no living relatives in Scotland to whom I could immediately point. I mean, if I went far enough back and tracked far enough forward, I’m sure I could. What I’m getting at is, if we’re talking about the salad analogy, I’m iceberg lettuce. I don’t add the zing of a good onion or the sweetness of a pineapple or the crunch of a crouton. I’m just the base ingredient, I guess. That doesn’t mean, however, I don’t appreciate the cultures around us and, while people may not realize it, Huron has some pretty diverse cultural opportunities in it. We all know a Dutch farmer or 50 and they have some pretty great, unique traditions that are different from those of us with a British (or British-occupied) history. My editor Shawn’s mother, makes some fantastic German cuisine that I hadn’t had the chance to enjoy before. Recently, the Blyth Artisan Market added some Ukrainian handmade food added to its culinary offerings. Sorry... there’s a definite food focus going on here that I hadn’t planned on, but I guess all that talk about melting pots, cakes and salads set my mind on a certain track. Anyway, back to Bernier. There is no such thing as too multicultural as long as everyone respects the rules. Unfortunately, some people have apparently forgotten those basic lessons we learned in school, not just about the difference between the United States and Canada, but also about treating other human beings decently. One of Bernier’s examples of extreme multiculturalism, a park in Winnipeg named after Muhammad Ali Jinnah, a founder of the state of Pakistan, was the target of vandalism. Ironically enough, Bernier is creating division with his comments concerning division, both in the country and in his own party, so much to the point that political pundits are wondering whether he’s long for the PC Caucus, or whether Scheer can afford him as a liability outside the party. It makes one wonder if, while chowing down on sour grapes, he isn’t just trying to erode the support of the PC Party. The Liberal Party is reporting great gains, including increases in members and fundraising, after his tweets. Regardless, don’t buy into his politics of division: be a proud member of Canada’s multicultural salad, quilt or mixed nut can. Denny Scott Denny’s Den THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 23, 2018. PAGE 5. Gotta serve somebody One of Bob Dylan’s more well-known songs is “Gotta Serve Somebody” on Slow Train Coming. Dylan goes on to list a wide variety of jobs and stations in life, saying, essentially, that no matter who you are, you’ve gotta serve somebody. “You may be an ambassador to England or France, you may like to gamble, you may like to dance, you may be the heavyweight champion of the world, you may be a socialite with a long string of pearls, but you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed,” go the first few lines of the 1979 song. Like so many of Dylan’s wise words, these are true, no matter the circumstances. I always tell Jess how much she missed in terms of professional development by not working in a customer service position when she was young (though she likely wouldn’t have missed the hard work and frustration). But, it’s true. So many of us in “professional” positions had humble beginnings waiting tables or jockeying a cash register. (I serviced candy machines, washed dishes at Swiss Chalet and worked at Rogers before earning my hat with the “press” card in it.) When you work one of those jobs, it’s quite clear to whom you’re beholden. You always have a boss, but you quickly learn that it’s the customers who are your real boss. Here at The Citizen, Publisher Deb Sholdice and our Board of Directors would be my bosses, but in truth, of course, our readers and sponsors are who keep the lights on. Those who work for themselves and boast that they’re their own boss have a boss. Union and non-union workers alike all have bosses. Elon Musk has a boss; if people don’t buy Teslas, he goes out of business. Even Infant-in- Chief Donald Trump has a boss: the American people (though some may say it’s actually Russian President Vladimir Putin). It is with this lengthy introduction that I air a grievance with Canada Post. Gigantic company? Check. Canadian institution? Check. Pleasant to deal with? Not always. With the rise of e-mail, social media and e- billing, letter volumes are a fraction of what they used to be. This also comes at a time when couriers like UPS, FedEx and Purolator are becoming the preferred option for large online retailers like Amazon and WalMart. So, you would think that when North Huron Publishing wants to send out 15,000 copies of a special issue of the newspaper for the Huron County Plowing Match employees would be happy to help, right? Not so. This is the second time we’ve run into major huffing and puffing, a lack of manners and generally being treated as an inconvenience. The first (although there are always brushes) was last year when we wanted to send 40,000 copies of our massive International Plowing Match special issue. Again, you would think that mailing 40,000 of something would be a positive development for a company that makes its money by mailing things. It should be stated that these unpleasant encounters have all occurred outside of The Citizen’s traditional coverage area. Our local offices have always been very supportive. Back to Bob, we’ve all gotta serve somebody. If a waitress is inconvenienced when customers come in, that’s a temporary problem. She’ll be freed of it when the restaurant closes and she no longer has a job. If The Citizen isn’t mailing thousands of newspapers every week, grumpy post office employees won’t have to worry about us bothering them; their offices will close, they’ll be at home and we don’t make house calls.