- by L. Jillian

Walking down to the vigil for our Muslim community this evening, I passed by the old Ryerson Park sign that was recently taken down by the city after the discovery of 215 Indigenous child graves were discovered at a residential school in B.C. The reason for the removal of the sign, I can't help but notice, was more out of concern that it would be vandalized, and less so that it represented the legacy of a prominent figure in the residential schooling system - a genocidal institution that still has devastating impacts to this day.

As I approached City Hall, there was a large crowd gathered for the Muslim family targeted for their religion and murdered in London, Ontario recently - a beautiful show of solidarity, but one that should not have existed in the first place.

The Imam sang quranic prayers, community members spoke, and a powerhouse of a Muslim mama, Suffia, was handed flowers by her tiny daughter before delivering an intensely powerful speech that I'm sure left many of us dabbing our eyes. She spoke not just of the recent event in London, but of many events taking place across our nation and the world. How can we be proud, she asked, until every First Nations community has access to drinking water? How can we mourn our own, while looking away as Palestinians are slaughtered? We cannot look at BLM as a solely American issue; racist events are perpetrated everywhere by all of us, and, rather than pointing fingers at others, we must never stop examining ourselves, even and especially when it is painful, because it is not meant to make us feel comfortable while others are dying and injustice prevails.

She walked off stage to ovations and was hugged by her husband. Attention was brought to the line of grocery bags on the ground - food asked by our Muslim community to be donated to the food bank. Even in tragedy, they wished only to help others.

The vigil ended and I started to leave. Only a block away, I encountered a woman sitting on the ground asking for money. I've seen her before, always in the same area over these past two or three years - a situation that a "tooney" here and there "for something to eat" has not been able to help her escape.

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting alone at the harbour, hair dirty, jeans torn, stuffing my face with licorice and looking a sight, when I saw a van pull up. The driver didn't get out, and I noticed he was watching me. I tried my best to shrug it off, looked at the sunset and browsed on my phone. A few more minutes passed, and the man who'd been watching me, almost twice my age, got out and slowly approached. I avoided eye contact (the sole thing that seems to work short of walking away). He deposited a coffee cup into the trash 10 feet away and said hi to me, awkwardly, eagerly, then turned and returned to the van, where he continued to watch me.

I decided to take my leave - I've seen this before, been followed along either side of the harbour on bike and foot both, had men sit on benches beside me to "chat", had a drunk guy once corner me on the floating dock. I had no energy to fend off another potential harassment right now, so I walked off, veering down an alley just to be sure he didn't try to follow in his van. The alley was strewn with syringe caps - and I'm sure the syringes were nearby as well. It is a common sight. I've cleaned up dozens of these in recent times, nearly jabbed myself on them while sitting on the beach!

I feel weary tonight. I love this town, the lake, rivers and forests, the art, the community, the passion for life. But this place still needs a lot of work. I am tired of always fighting, of watching those more vulnerable be left to fend for themselves. The privileged, able to bring change even merely by speaking up, so often instead look away, stay in their own bubble and pretend they can't do anything. But so many of us don't have a "bubble". Homeless folk, the racialized, women, the LGBTQ community, disabled or poor, the Indigenous whose lands we stole and continue to perpetrate heinous acts on everyday...

I love this town, I love this community. But tonight I am tired.