by Andrea Mulder-Slater
I am eating string cheese while Post Malone’s Circles plays on Spotify. I am safe. My skin is light.
Today I am privileged.
My daughter asks me why some people hate others simply because of the colour of their skin.
“I don’t know,” is the not the only answer I can give her.
I explain that ignorance results in vile behaviour; fear creates chaos; and desperation is brought on by sadness.
In every person there is the capacity to harm, to destroy and to hurt.
Today I am powerless.
Through negligence, a doctor in my province has seeded a growing cluster of COVID-19 infections. In a matter of days, one case has become eight, with no sign of stopping.
This virus is a beast.
Today I am angry.
The world is on edge.
Freedom, safety, health and human rights are not a given.
Nothing is certain.
The future is unclear.
Today I am frightened.
The sun is strengthening outside my window, putting up a good fight against the blanket of clouds that cover the sky.
Two of our goats are munching on grass while another lays watching them from her playground perch, oblivious to anything beyond her view.
My daughter says she doesn’t understand why people choose to hate when it’s so much easier to love.
I am reminded of the words she spoke when she was just four years old...
“Love is like lifting up a rock. It’s so easy.”
Today I am hopeful.