"We're all the same," is a declaration that seems to claim equality, seems to address prejudice and discrimination. Most times when I reply, "Well, but..." the look I get is scathing.
Why do I question the idea that we are all the same? First, it tends to be a declaration that we are all like me. And not everyone is like me, with a dependable income and a middle-class background, umpteen years of education, reasonably good physical shape, a love of writing and of being in the natural world. I have a lot of advantages, privileges, lots of freedom, loads of choice. Not everyone has the options day to day and over time that I have.
There is a cartoon that circulates regularly with three kids of different ages, different heights. Treating them equally has the tallest looking over a fence with the shorter ones peering through the slats. Treating them with equity gives the two shorter kids boxes of different sizes, raising them up so all three can look over the fence. In order for people to live equal or even similar lives, different people need different supports.
Covid-19 has highlighted the differences in people's resources. People in part-time, minimum wage service jobs have been hard hit. Lay-offs have put them at risk. On the other hand, people who can work from home have continued to earn the same salary. Families with young children working from home have had a whole other level of stress as they try to support the children's schooling and fulfill their own jobs. In 2020, I had to adjust the way I worked, but had minimal stress or difficulty. My privilege made living through the pandemic, so far, uncomfortable but easy.
There is a popular song by Susan Aglukark which begins, "O Siem, we are all family." That's an idea that I find helpful as we think about equality.
My mother was one of eight children born over a couple decades. One of her oldest brothers served in the second world war and worked for the provincial government. He was solid, dependable, gracious. The other of the eldest was a rascal, sold real estate, flirted with every woman he met. Very different men. Both her sisters were older than her. One loved to complain and gossip. She was widowed quite early and struggled to make ends meet. The other ran a rooming house with her husband, was an active motherly woman. Very different lives. One of my mother's younger brothers drove a city bus. Another was a lawyer. Another was always on the margin of the family, the margin of society. Their lifestyles were very different.
These people shared a last name and a family history. All of them played cards. Almost all developed Alzheimer disease. But they were very different people making different choices and coping with different challenges. While they could get together for celebrations, none could have fit into the life and responsibilities of another. Maybe you had to know them to know how true that is, but trust me, they were as different as the planets of our solar system.
Declaring we are all equal is like living by the golden rule: we treat others the way we expect to be treated. There is another principle, sometimes called the platinum rule, which asks us to treat others the way they want to be treated. You don't stick out your hand to someone who would prefer to put their hands together to acknowledge you. You don't hug someone who would rather shake hands.
And more, it is important to listen to other people's stories of what their life is like. I don't enjoy getting stopped by police when I am speeding, but when I do, I recognize that I made a mistake that I need to take responsibility for. I have been told by black people, that getting pulled over means planning a very careful deliberate interaction with the officer. I need to hear those stories to understand their everyday experience of racism.
Building a society that acknowledges equality is okay. Building communities that make space for difference can provide strength, safety, and security for all.
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway
