The Citizen, 2017-09-28, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2017. PAGE 5.
Other Views
Symbols can become too important
Symbols can be important in bringing
people together. If they become too
important, however, they can become
weapons that divide people, as demonstrated
by U.S. President Donald Trump on the
weekend.
Speaking to a crowd of supporters in
Alabama, Friday night, Trump roused the
crowd by denouncing a handful of (usually
black) football players who, over the last year,
have from time to time chosen to kneel or raise
fists during the playing of the U.S. national
anthem as a silent protest for greater social
justice and against police treatment of black
Americans.
"That's a total disrespect of everything we
stand for," Trump thundered. "Wouldn't you
love to see one of these NFL owners, when
somebody disrespects our flag, you'd say, 'Get
that son of a bitch off the field right now. Out!
He's fired"
Before Sunday afternoon's NFL games,
Trump called on fans to boycott games if NFL
owners did not punish players who
disrespected their country and flag by
protesting. He may have been surprised to see
that players protested in greater numbers than
ever before, in some cases joined by the
owners of their teams and supported by the
league itself.
Earlier on Friday I had been walking down
a sun -baked street of the International Plowing
Match's tented city at Walton. Looking down I
saw one of those small Canadian flags lying
on the ground. It may have been dropped by
someone waving it during the visit of Prime
Minister Justin Trudeau to the match, earlier in
the day.
I stepped over the flag and kept walking.
As I walked on, I began to feel a touch of
guilt that I hadn't stopped and picked up
the flag to prevent someone else from
Keith
Roulston
From the
cluttered desk
trampling it, but I didn't go back.
That night as I watched the news and heard
Trump's rant, I was glad that I hadn't given
greater significance to that tiny bit of cloth on
the ground that had a red maple leaf on it.
Don't get me wrong. I'm proud of our flag
and our country. I'm old enough to remember
the immense emotions when all students at
Lucknow District High School shivered
around the outdoor flag pole on Feb. 15, 1965
as the new red and white flag was raised for
the first time. Months earlier, in one of my few
acts of '60s rebellion, I had taken part in a
sitdown protest one day when our class
refused to stand for God Save The Queen
because we felt that 0' Canada was our true
national anthem.
But there's a delicate tipping point for
symbols and the nationalism they signify.
Thankfully, as a small, unpowerful country
with a relatively short history, Canada has
seldom tipped that delicate balance to turn
symbols into weapons, but the danger is
always there.
We have seen plenty of that south of the
border, where for many people the symbolism
of the flag or the national anthem becomes
greater than the values the country claims to
stand for. A silent action of kneeling during the
singing of the national anthem causes a huge
fuss while the injustice the athletes are
protesting is ignored. The U.S. President does
not acknowledge that the country he vows to
make great again isn't living up to its pledge of
"liberty and justice for all". Instead he
demands the protesters be punished, ignoring
another great American right: the right to free
speech.
Giving too much power to symbols can go
both ways. When white supremacists carry
swastika flags, or wear white hoods and carry
torches, moderate people's outrage can give
the bigots more power than they actually
possess. When people want to prevent them
from saying hateful things, they become
dictatorial themselves. As Voltaire said: "I
disapprove of what you say, but I will defend
to the death your right to say it."
Also in the category of making symbols too
important are the recent remarks by Bloc
Quebecois Leader Martine Ouellet who
criticized NDP leadership candidate Jagmeet
Singh for wearing a turban and a kirpan as a
practising Sikh, saying it's a testament to the
"rise of the religious left" and it doesn't
respect separation of church and state. One
suspects that she was using something
seemingly progressive — the separation
of church and state — to actually attract
those Quebeckers who resent immigrants who
don't look like them, such as Muslims who
wear niqabs or Sikhs who wear turbans. Yes
the turban and the kirpan are themselves
symbols but what matters more, symbols we
may not appreciate or the right of religious
freedom?
Symbols like a national anthem or a flag
can be positive when they inspire the best in
people. When they are used by manipulative
leaders like Donald Trump to divide their
nation and mobilize their supporters against
those perceived as denigrating those symbols,
then they become destructive. We must always
be aware how quickly nationalistic symbols
can be turned from good to bad.
Mud, Victory, Dust: what's in a name?
As the dust settles and the infrastructure
begins to disappear from the fields just
east of Walton, the International
Plowing Match and Rural Expo (IPM) has
come to an end for the fifth time in Huron
County's history.
As people look back on the event, they will
doubtlessly remember that, unlike the matches
that came before it, the event covered every
weather -condition imaginable, save that of
snow.
The opening ceremonies on Tuesday were
preceded by the start of an intense rain storm
that carried on for several hours. This was
after a lighter storm passed through the area on
Monday evening.
As Shawn and I travelled the grounds on
Friday, preparing for the visit of Prime
Minister Justin Trudeau and his family, we ran
into IPM Committee Secretary Lynne Godkin
who said she would think it would be called
the Everything Match for facing most kinds of
weather.
Undoubtedly, there will be people, in the
short term, who will remember the flood -
like conditions that saw the ground muddied
for years to come. Others still will remember
the higher -than -seasonable temperatures
that followed the rain, drying out the grounds
after the rain and providing some beautiful
sunshine for the final three days of the
match.
Still others will refer to it as the 100th match
(unfortunately, I can't find a simple term to
convey 100 iterations, since it technically
happened over 100 years ago, starting in
1913).
When Shawn, Lynne and I first had the
conversation, I couldn't think of an alternative
to Lynne's suggestion, but, given the weekend
to think, I eventually did discover the moniker
for Huron's fifth IPM.
Denny
Scott
Denny's Den
The previous matches were named for the
situations around the events.
The Victory Match, which took place in
1946 near Port Albert, was called such as it
happened immediately after the end of World
War II.
The 1966 International Plowing Match will
forever be known as the Mud Match thanks to
the incredible rain that soaked the fields near
the village.
The Money Match, the 1978 International
Plowing Match held just east of Wingham,
earned its name by setting records including
attendance.
There seems to be some debate in our office
as to the name of the 1999 match, which was
hosted near Dashwood. I've always heard to it
(and thanks to my own experience, I can attest
to it) as the Dust Match while other people call
it the Sunshine Match. The match, and the
surrounding weeks, included dry, warm
weather that resulted in the roads of the site
being wetted.
I suppose we could call this the Prime
Minister's match as Justin's visit was an added
bonus not often seen at the IPM, or, as stated
before, fall back on the fact that it was the
100th match, but both of those don't seem to
do it justice.
Turning to the weather, I just think the
Everything Match is a little vague. No offence
Lynne.
My idea for the match name relies on the
weather, but it focuses more on the people.
While the idea came in its entirety over the
weekend, I think the seed for my suggestion
was planted just a few short minutes after that
discussion with Lynne and Shawn.
While Shawn and I stood in a circle with
other media personnel awaiting our chance to
be inspected by Trudeau's security forces to
make sure we weren't trying to assault him
with a pie, a reporter asked if anyone was on
the grounds on Wednesday.
As I'm sure you may have already
discovered or will soon discover, I was on the
grounds on Wednesday when the site was
closed. Shawn and I agreed that getting photos
of just how muddy the site was and what was
being done to remedy it was a great idea.
So, when this reporter asked about it, I said
those photos are just as important as the
photos we were about to get of Trudeau.
They weren't important because people
needed to see the mud, but because people
needed to see how the community and the
volunteers came together to make what was
left of the IPM the best it could be.
While the reporter in question didn't
necessarily agree with me, the moment,
looking back, was the start of my idea for the
match: The Persistence Match.
Huron County's best weren't about to let
rain ruin years of planning and thousands of
hours of work so they made sure the event
persisted. They cleared mud, put down wood
shavings and made the best of the situation.
That should be what Huron County, Ontario,
Canada and the world remembers about the
100th IPM held in Walton: The fact that we
wouldn't sit back and let a little rain ruin
something extraordinary.
There you have it: for me, the match will
always be known as The Persistence Match.
Wear it proudly Huron.
A% Shawn
Loughlin
ALliali Shawn's Sense
An example to us all
Jacquie
Bishop, chair of last week's IPM in
Walton, should truly be an inspiration to
us all. She took all that Mother Nature
could throw at her — not to mention over four
years of what just about everyone else could
throw at her — and she handled it with
patience, grace and an intelligence we should
all be so lucky to possess.
I, like many others, felt drained on Saturday
evening as the IPM's closing ceremonies crept
to a close. I was sunburned, my legs ached
from days of walking around and I felt
doomed to dehydration in perpetuity.
But then, as Jacquie addressed those still in
attendance as the IPM wound to a close, I saw
something I had yet to see: Jacquie's voice
cracked and she teared up as she spoke to
those seated in front of her. And along with
her, many did the same (myself included).
Those who have been close to the committee
over the years know just how much work has
gone into what tens of thousands enjoyed last
week. It was a massive team effort, no one will
tell you any different, but there couldn't have
been a better leader of that team.
Every time I've spoken to Jacquie over the
past few years, she has diverted conversation
to the work of her committees. Whether it's
been Secretary Lynne Godkin or specific
committee chairs like Matt Townsend, Barb
Terpstra, Melissa Veldman, Deb Falconer,
Allan Carter or Brian and Jeff McGavin,
Jacquie has heaped praise on them all. If you
listened to Jacquie, she made it sound like she
did nothing at all. But we know that's not true.
Seeing Jacquie tear up on Saturday evening
served as an emotional release for everyone
under her. It was finally over. Mud had been
scraped up and skids of bottles of water had
been handed out. All of the work and the
politics and the worrying was over. Now, only
the clean-up remained.
I have been speaking with Jacquie for years
about the IPM and I have cherished those
chats around her kitchen table near Bluevale. I
consider Jacquie a friend. She admires the
work we do here at The Citizen and we're
certainly fans of what she's done for the
community over the years — not just with the
IPM, but through 4-H and everything else
she's had a hand in over the course of her life,
not the least of which has been raising three
strong, intelligent and impressive young
women in her image.
But just as Jacquie would point to her
committee chairs when asked about workload
or the potential for success ahead of the IPM,
they all pointed to her. She has been the
fearless leader who continued to steer the ship
towards its destination.
Jacquie is the first woman to ever chair an
IPM and since it was the 100th IPM, she
showed all of us what we've been missing.
Really though, when it comes down to it, I
was just really proud as I stood to the right of
the stage on Saturday evening. I was proud to
know Jacquie and call her a friend, I was proud
to have played a small part in the IPM through
our coverage and Salute to the IPM issue and I
was proud to be a Huron County resident.
When Jess came to the match for the first
time on Saturday evening, I bounded around
the grounds, urging her to keep up, showing
her this or that and telling her all about the
attractions and things I'd seen over the week.
Jacquie's legacy will be that she made us all
feel like this was our IPM — to show off, to
share and to be proud of — all thanks to her
years of hard work.
Jacquie, you're an amazing woman. Thank
you for everything you've done for us.