Daniela Ginta, Freelance Writer

Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Category: Life Stories Page 24 of 46

Why Do Pitt Bulls Get More Public Attention Than Abused Children

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On October 7, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Learning, Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement, Social issues

Initially published as a column in the Armchair Mayor News on Friday, October 7, 2016. 

ProtectSince 2011, at least 233 children between the ages of three and 18 have been subjected to sexual abuse while in foster care. That is in British Columbia alone. The majority of them were girls and more than 60 percent Indigenous. To put it in perspective, approximately 25 percent of the children in foster care in our province are aboriginal.

The report created some ripples on the day it hit the press, but definitely not enough and the ripples also did not carry through the next few days. In other words, it’s not something we talk about and become rightfully shocked by.

In contrast, the Montreal pit bull ban got so much publicity and word of mouth that it reached many corners of this province and the country too. While I will not go into that debate, my contention revolves around what makes us tick as a society. That over two hundred children (many more go unreported) were subjected to sexual violence in Canada in this day and age should make us all stop and question our priorities as a society.

Love or hate pit bulls, the thing is, we talk about it, we have it in the news, petitions are flying (one had approximately 191,000 signatures a week or so ago) and we collectively argue about the ban. There are some pretty strong opinions flying out there if you care to check the news.

For the record, I love dogs. I have one I dearly love, and I do think that dogs deserve to be cared for the right way. But, I am of the belief that every dog owner should be charged or drastically fined should their dog attack anyone and harm them. The money should go straight to shelters to help other animals.

On the other hand, are we being just as vocal about those abused children? A year ago or so I wrote a column about a little girl (age 2) who died while in foster care, bearing many signs of physical abuse. It saddened me then and it still saddens me now. There was a lot of muddling in the case as the foster parents denied being physically abusive and the natural mother who fought hard to get her baby back had a history of mental disease.

B.C. Minister of Children and Family Development Stephanie Cadieux still maintains that the ministry has rigorous standards when choosing foster parents. Outrage? Nah. New measures will be implemented, possibly after paper-pushing, stamping, approving of this and that, and then some more paper-pushing. Meanwhile, children suffer.

It’s hard to believe our most beautiful province has a shameful reputation when it comes to how we take care of children. Not mine or yours most likely, but of those who were born under less lucky stars. The most vulnerable of them all. They drop even lower and the sky above them darkens even more with every day of abuse and mistreatment.

It’s high time we put a stop to that. That in every society throughout time people found themselves at the opposite poles of status, financially or otherwise, is true. But nowadays we are privy to enough information to be able to step up and stop any kind of abuse, to shorten decision-making time when a child’s life depends on it and to make it big news and a subject of conversation until the issue does not longer exist. To paraphrase our PM who is still dragging his feet in the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women Inquiry, this is 2016. Almost 2017 in fact.

I believe in compassion and second chances, yet there is a fine line we ought not to cross when dealing with children who are subjected to sexual violence of any kind. The problem is, many of these children are scarred for life. Second chances are, in these cases and sadly so, more often for the perpetrators than for the young victims.

When we think of the future we think of children. They are the ones carrying the legacy into tomorrow. The more we allow as a society for a partially rotten legacy to exist, the more troublesome the future we hope for becomes.

A quote I often think of belongs to Nelson Mandela: ‘There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.’ Am I right to assume that our society’s soul is not doing too well at the moment? We can each do something to make it heal by fighting to treat our collective children better and let no harm of the above sort come to them.

Could Corporations Sponsor Free Thinking?

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On October 3, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Homeschooling, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Self-improvement, Social issues

Originally published as a column in the ArmchairNews on Friday September 30th, 2016. 

So much has happened in the last week it’s hard to know where to start in choosing a topic for this piece. The crushing news, in my opinion, was the approval of the Pacific Northwest LNG export terminal by the federal government. Communicated by no other than the Environment Minister Catherine McKenna (oh, and climate change too), the news hit many like a stack of bricks.

Of course, the project might not go ahead after all if the LNG prices are too low, so there’s the saving grace. Unlike our federal government it’d be nice if Canada could actually keep a promise. Yes, I am thinking of the one made in Paris last year regarding the greenhouse gases. We ought to.

The next big thing that crowds made bigger was the visit of Prince William and Princess Kate; still unfolding, still leaving a trail of stardust behind, Facebook photo albums are already flooded with glimpses of the two and their children. It’s nice to have nice people visit our province (they really seem so) but I sure hope that in the whirlwind of criss-crossing this beautiful land they got wind of the most pressing issues.

Not that they would be able to do much to pressure either our premier or Prime Minister to change their ways and opt for keeping promises to First Nations, Canadians in general, and leading our economy towards greener pastures and helping Canadians reap the benefits rather than allow foreign corporations trot in.

Not to be raining on anyone’s parade with the royal visit and all, but there is a big need for money in various sectors in British Columbia – education and health to name but two. Hospitable as we are as a people, there is little if any money to spare for visits when so much is needed and many are told there is no money to help them. Children are always among the needy. Let’s also not forget the black eye of British Columbia: there are still a lot of hungry children among us. That is not acceptable.

Speaking of children and food, there is a new development that seems to create some discord. Senator Nancy Greene Raine brought forth a bill which might become law, proposing that children under 13 be spared the branding by fast-food companies when it comes to the sports they play. It’s complicated, you’re right to think that.

Many teams of young players rely on sponsorships such as the ones bestowed by fast-food companies to make their magic happen. Kind of counterintuitive though. After all, playing sports is a great healthy endeavour. Eating fast-food is not. The two combined? Little more than an early exposure to double standards and principle bending if you will.

Nowadays more than ever children need to learn about real food, the price of growing it right, the need to grow it ethically; they need to understand that eating is not an isolated act but one of the many that keeps humans in a circle where they can influence their own well-being and that of the world they live in. It’s a tall order, it’s true.

Yet when we teach them that and encourage them to ditch the fast-food in favour of some nutritious, clean and local yummy grub, they learn more than the taste of food. They learn about their own community and how sticking together does wonders for everyone.

Sponsorship that keeps kids playing is not easy to find, many said. That may be true yet I do believe that there could be local businesses that are willing to help.

We have way too many overweight children, and way too many overweight people in general. We have become quite comfortable with letting it be and telling children they should be confident and happy no matter what the scale says. Yet it’s not the scale that counts really but their health. And good health is most important. It’s a shame to teach our children anything else and not allow them the space to think freely of their food choices.

There was a time when kids and everyone else for that matter played for the love of it, no corporate involvement whatsoever. If one is to help, perhaps local businesses can step up and help in a most good old way that sees that kids in the community have their chance to play free of corporate marketing that could care less who is who and which team plays what.

With learning to eat healthy and understand community involvement comes the drive to stand up for the very land the said community lives on, for the water they drink and the air they breathe. By equipping our children with the courage to think independently and make their own educated choices we can at least say we did everything we could for them to learn to stand up for what’s worth saving: life in all shapes and sizes. We are truly giving them the world.

The Folly Of Planned Obsolescence

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On September 16, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Climate change, Environment, Homeschooling, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column in NewsKamloops on September 16, 2016.

20160901_201806Every week on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays there is a pile of newspapers which my eldest son delivers to people in the neighborhood.  Size-wise, Tuesdays are ok, Fridays are occasionally daunting and Thursdays are downright scary. The number of flyers is scary. They cover everything you could think of: food, clothing, cars and trucks, lottery, toys, appliances, furniture and much more.

20160907_135715My son aptly remarked that many people only want their Thursday paper because of the flyers. There’s an inch or so that he lugs around with each paper on his routes. It adds up. But every week that many? How much new stuff can there be on sale every week?

A while back someone shared a few stories of entire sets of furniture and all related being taken to the dump due to remodeling or after inheriting an old house with out-of-style-everything inside. I wrote on more than one occasion about thrift stores bursting at the seams with so much stuff, not to mention the merchandise that gets sent to the landfill because it is not saleable anymore.

Still, sales advertised in weekly flyers promise more and more at low prices. A basic scientific principle dictates that matter gets transformed into something else but never disappears. That we have seen it with objects around us is an understatement.

Garbage in landfills and oceans increases by the day and we put it there. The promise of new and better beats fixing the old and reusing or repurposing all that you can. Holidays have been enhanced out of proportion to make room for more saleable stuff most of us won’t even consider buying. That is not the issue though. Whether anyone buys it or not, it is on the shelves and when the season ends, it becomes garbage.

Yes, Halloween is coming with plastic carved pumpkins at a mere $23 when the fun of carving a compostable local one comes with a lower price and loads of fun. Styrofoam cadaveric heads? Let’s not even go there. From an environmental perspective, Styrofoam is evil whichever way it comes to co-exist and unfortunately outlive all of us. Because it will.

You see, I grew up in a most idyllic way that I came to appreciate even more so recently since attempting to provide my sons with a similar one. Across the street from our house lived an old Hungarian guy who fixed shoes. I don’t know if he had ever been a cobbler, all I know is that from the time I can remember he fixed shoes, lots of them and my parents always said he did an amazing job. The rows and rows of shoes in his workshop stood proof.

The room where he had his workshop was facing the street and I could see him at work all the time from our yard. Whenever I had to drop off or pick up shoes that he fixed I would take some time to sit on a little wooden stool and watch him work. His hands were moving swiftly and expertly and I remember that before starting to work on a shoe he’d always weigh the shoe in and feel it from one end to the other. Then he’d know where to start.

My Dad was keen on taking care of the family shoes. He would regularly polish them and encourage us to keep them clean. It makes for a pleasant appearance, he would say. I liked sitting and watching him apply thin layers of various shoe polish and then use one of his brushes to get a good shine going. Between my Dad’s careful maintenance and the cobbler’s expertise at fixing the soles, shoes lasted quite a while and looked good too.

There were no flyers coming our way so my parents bought things as they needed them and made good use of all that we had. Someone suggested that people who lived through the post-war era like my grandparents likely learned the value of everything and made sure to reuse and repurpose. It may be true, but just as well, many people continued past the war time memories. It made sense to not waste and not reach out for the next one-use that would become obsolete too soon.

I have read about some cell phones being sold with ‘planned obsolescence’. Ironically, that matches our rather ephemeral human existence and even more ironically (yes with a hint of conspiracy theory if you will) big companies are planning both.

The concept of lifetime warranty (sounding more cheerful than ‘cradle to grave’) is what’s becoming obsolete. It shouldn’t. Approximately 20 percent of the national methane emissions rise from our landfills. Landfills already occupy a lot of space and the materials that fill them are here to stay. Exponential growth laws be gone, it makes no sense that we still reach for the next flyer, ready to buy more and add to the mounds of garbage.

That we made it to this day with a planet that can still sustain our lifestyle (yes, I am referring to the western ways) is thanks to those before us, most of whom took what they needed, when they needed it, because their connection to the communities they lived in and the land they lived off of was strong enough for them to know what road to follow.

What’s the answer then? Perhaps a return to a simpler lifestyle, smaller spaces to fill and better connections with our own selves and our values, and more time spent with our loved ones; fewer things to buy and more time spent out of doors and getting to know the very earth we walk on. Our journey here is a short one if you look at the big picture, so making it worthwhile not based on weekly sales but on what’s actually essential to have – time and connections with people and nature – is a challenge worth pursuing.

Simplicity is where it’s at. And truth is, it doesn’t come with sacrifices but with being liberated.

What We Stand To Lose In Healthcare

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On September 10, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Learning, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column in NewsKamloops. 

For a few days now my little guy has been going to bed after using the puffer. Mornings start with the same device. He’s a soldier that way and though the wheezing is audible enough to make me cringe, he says it’s fine and tries to do it without the puffer as much as possible.

We’ll meet with a specialist next week and hopefully solve some of the puzzle that’s been plaguing our lives lately as to which allergen is causing the trouble. It took a couple of months to get the appointment and we’re grateful that the wait has not been longer.

It’s been a while since our last visit to the emergency room and when it happened we had nothing but good things to say about the ambulance crew and the hospital staff that attended to my barely breathing son. The emotional price we paid was immense yet the financial one barely anything (we paid the fee for the ambulance service).

Anyone in Canada who’s been in an emergency situation, or suffers from a health issue that requires prolonged medical care knows one thing: you do not have to worry about the bill that will take years to pay if at all.

The lack of family doctors in Kamloops and other areas in BC is a sad state of affairs, yet the system is still not as bad as it could be should it become privatized. If you’re aware of the court case that made its debut in Vancouver a few days ago regarding the possible privatization of the healthcare in BC and eventually the whole Canada.

While most people whose children are encountering chronic health issues can attest that they would not hesitate to sell the coat off their back and more in order to pay for the best medical care, that is barely the point here. In fact, that is not the point.

The court case is not about a choice that should be made between the present system and a privatized one. It is about changing the system that put Canada on the map of countries who take care of their citizens health-wise, without charging an arm and a leg. That improvements can be made to the current system is true. There is room for better.

Yet what Brian Day, MD, is calling for is not it. For profit healthcare just like for profit education (university level) defeats the noble purpose such endeavours start out with. It is bad enough that money gets in the way of learning, or that conflicts of interests are often plaguing higher education when big companies doing controversial or disputed business in the community pay part of their acceptance with ‘gifts’ to learning institutions.

People can still find options. Healthcare is a different matter altogether. A matter of life and death one could say and it would not be exaggerated. Should our system change (let’s hope our judicial system will maintain a backbone on this one) we will see a lot of people falling through the cracks due to financial difficulty or less than ideal medical care because of the influx of doctors and nurses to the better paying side which is private care.

That someone who has once taken the Hippocratic oath pledging to not harm and cause hurt, to live an exemplary life and take into consideration the benefit of the patient first of all, is capable of taking the health care system to court in order to transform the profession into a business that will allow those in the higher financial tiers access to good medical care, while the ones less advantaged will take one for the team, is unthinkable.

We should all talk about this, understand the reality of a privatized health care and make enough noise to let those with the power of decision know that the actual final decision should be the result of all Canadians speaking up and standing for what is right for everyone.

Start a conversation today, read about what led to this court case to take place and why privatized healthcare is un-Canadian and unethical. Decisions can only be made if we’re educated enough and we have enough information available to do so. Standing up for what’s right has never been more important. Yes, our lives depend on it and we ought to act on it. Write to those who can act on your behalf, talk to people and spread the word. Every one of these matters more than you can imagine.

Please visit www.savemedicare.ca for more information.

Yes, We Talk Politics. Here’s Why

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On August 12, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Climate change, Environment, Homeschooling, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement, Social issues

We do not watch TV in my family. That leaves us in the dark when a question like ‘Have you seen the last episode of…’ surfaces, but it’s a risk worth taking.

I read the news instead and often times conversations around coffee, tea, and meals, have us talk about the latest in politics. Children included. I’ve always believed that most children if given the chance and without having their minds inundated with useless, mainstream stuff, can have pertinent opinions.

We need that in today’s world more than ever. People taking the time to think, the courage to speak up and engage in conversations that may prove challenging, revealing but are overall necessary for pushing us towards knowing more, knowing better and educating ourselves.

We need our children to grow up knowing that it is not impolite or poor manners to engage in political conversations. It is necessary, because knowing what goes on in the political world can just make the world as a whole better. Simply because sooner or later that knowledge applies to voting, a tool that (should) shape the democratic world.

When a child is passionate about nature, for example, specifically the ocean, and tries to understand why people overfish and pollute the oceans which endangers us all ultimately, it is hard to come up with a good enough explanation.

That politics is intimately tied with that too is unfortunately true. Much like trawling, there is a whole lot of stuff that politics drags behind in terms of connections with industries or large companies that work for profit, no matter what’s at risk. That of course puts the politician in a sensitive spot where he has to watch out for the interests of the people, their well-being, that of the world around them, and yes, all of that should be done independent of big money.

Can a child understand that? Can they understand that though it seems Lilliputian in size, our freedom to make choices, from the businesses we support to supply our daily meals to the other utilitarian products provided by big companies, is a very important democratic muscle that grows bigger and stronger the more we use it.

At the risk of sounding overoptimistic, I will say children do somehow understand that or are capable to do so if we take the time to explain that to them. And we should. It’s the world they will inherit so it makes sense that they should have a say in how things are run.

A Canadian company is aiming to start deep sea mining sometimes in early 2017. That’s a lot of drilling and disturbing of worlds we have yet to learn of fully. That there are still species unknown to humans in those depths, that our very lives depend on the intricate mesh that marine life is, should be reason enough to give any company some pause for thinking and reconsidering. When our children grow and have jobs and funds that can be invested, they should know better than to buy stocks that chip away at the world they live in. It takes saying it out loud for them to learn.

Politics can teach a lot about ethics, or lack thereof. That politics is one of the least gracious of all the good conversation sisters is true. Yet imagine what the world would be like if most people save for those in positions of power, would engage in polite, often meaningless chit-chat, and no one would ever remark on indignities, unfairness and downright abuse of power.

We do not even need to cross the border to get close to some of that. As CBC recently revealed, a Canadian company sold armoured vehicles to both war-torn Libya and South Sudan. In both cases, the ethical and humanitarian implications are painful to discuss albeit important to do so. Sure these trades cannot reflect Canadian values. We are after all known for apologizing when someone steps on our foot; we are the kind nature-lovers with a postcard-worthy country and an appetite for wilderness discovery. We’re kind and helpful towards people who are in dire straits (see the case of recently relocated Syrian refugees).

There is enough news and information flying every which way to make this serious and saddening offense towards humanity disappear with no one wiser on whether the company stopped its death-causing trades or if anyone was sanctioned for what could almost pass as criminal acts. There’s been enough cases of ‘forgiveness’.

It is true that there is not enough time in a day to read about all that deserves attention. Canadian politics alone, local and country-wide, is enough to make your head spin. Add to that the heartbreaking events unfolding in Syria at the moment as millions of people are in need of water under sweltering heat and amidst daily bombings. South Sudan with its millions of displaced, famished people too. Millions of African farmers punished severely by climate change.

Yet if enough people talk politics, each bringing some pieces to the big conversation about the world, we might just realize that we know more and better simply because someone took the time to inform themselves, and decided to share it with others. To ask questions, to make us think, to make us do our part as much as we can.

It is by all means easy (not on our conscience) to stick to our summer fun that might or might not include water which we have free access to (imagine the complete opposite), to happy conversations and good things happening in the world, because really, there are many. But we ought to be fair and impartial and give enough attention to issues that can raise eyebrows or make people uncomfortable. After all personal comfort should come second to human suffering, environmental destruction or any other issues where violation of what is humane, ethical and respectful is evident.

So go ahead, talk about Trump and his undignified approach to politics, talk about mines and the site C dam, about pipelines and wars unfolding far away. Allow your children to pipe in and voice their opinion. It’s their world too. We may be personally attached to one issue or another and become reactive when another brings it up (case in point: mines and pipelines). Yet healthy debates can lead to exactly what benefits both sides: consideration and respect for people and the environment. Ethics. It’s possible to have it good in many ways, much better than we do, if we stand up, listen, speak our mind and respectfully learn and educate at the same time. It’s a win-win.

So yes, we talk politics. Now you know why.

Instead of Goodbye I’ll Say This

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On August 5, 2016

In Homeschooling, Learning, Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement

The thing is you never get to say goodbye the right away or at the right time. There is no such thing. Not when you’re trying to chase growing up kids. It’s like trying to capture that gaze of wonder on their faces just to have the camera be always a second slower than their sudden turn of the head…

Today is Tony’s first day on his first job. Allowance stopped yesterday and childhood is leaving wet footprints all over memory lane. He has a bank account and a card that needs to be activated over the phone and it’s no longer me making the call; he has job responsibilities and yes, a paycheque at the end of the month. The road ahead is real and boys become men as they take one step at a time.

Doubts, celebratory smiles and a barely audible sigh as I watch his childhood cling like a wet leaf to a window only to be swooped by a whirlwind of now before I have a chance to say ‘OK, hold on for just a little longer…’ That’s not how it goes. All I can do is wonder if I did it right so far? Is he ready?

We see the smooth parts in our children and the self-congratulatory music blares victorious, and then we see the sharp bits, more painful to feel and look at and our gaze skids sideways, scrambling for justification of why and how the ugly bits came to be. We ask for a second chance when there is none, we promise to do better starting now and we oscillate between thinking ‘it’s no big deal’ and ‘oh, goodness, how could I do that, I messed up my kid…’

Did I do it right? Is he ready?

This is one of the forks in the road towards becoming the bigger version of himself. He turned 14 not long ago and no, age does nothing to me in dictating the next step and yet now it does. He can have a job. His first.

I drove him to the end of the first block of today’s first route. He steps outside, big canvas bag bursting with papers on his hip. It’s sunny and cloudy and the shreds of doubt can’t hang on strong enough. His gait is brisk and reveals the growing man inside. I park under a big tree at the other end of the block waiting to take him to the next route.

Bittersweet it is and I know the taste. I watch leaves tapping against each other though the mid-morning breeze twirls them all in the same direction. Some resist and that’s where I find my answers. All the scraps of memory behind…

I miss the mornings when the sofa was inundated with books and the two of us would share silly laughter over Dr. Seuss’s tongue twisters and bouncy rhymes. I will miss the rainy walks and his small boots filled to the brim with puddle water, muck and all, baby teeth grinning white and happy as the raindrops licked his little face. The snails that had to be counted every time we passed the wall that now reaches his hips and will never again reach higher than his head, them too…

Would I do things better if I had another go? Nah, it’s a wild game this one. We raise ourselves as we raise our kids, becoming better at simply being, learning that it’s not about asking for second chances or for burying the ungracious flight fragments. It’s about soaring and dropping under skies that turn grey and heavy when you least expect, and it’s about finding your wings as you’re about to hit the ground.

It’s about the whispered prayers that you put out there wondering why God would listen to you since you’ve already broken so many promises, and yet you hope the ones you make today won’t go poof into thin air because you put them together from shards of hope and hope is precious.

The radio fills the car with beautiful music. I make a note to remember the name. Ben Caplan, yet another perfect homegrown voice… It happened before, the right music at the right time. I pretend to read but my mind wonders as I spot Tony in the distance. He walks confidently, the list of delivery addresses in his hand, bag hanging loose as he pulls out the last papers. My heart swells and I know he knows that. He smiles before crossing the street.

I smile back. It’s not about wondering I’d do it better if we were to start again.

It’s about gathering all that I’ve learned since the day I held him for the first time, putting it all in a big pile, throwing some tight hugs for good measure and saying loud and clear ‘There you go, I tried my best, even when I stank and we both sulked and I thought “unfit” should be tattooed on my forehead.’ Love patches the gaping holes that let the cold breeze in. as a mother you’re broken many times and put back together, every time a bit better, every time proudly letting the joined pieces show. A story of sorts.

Love is the big secret. The ups and downs that help build the complicated and necessary geography of the soul that speaks of the deepest pits of grief and of the sparkle that sits on the highest peaks where the sun dances and sings… so I’ll say ‘here you go, you ought to have them both and the in between wonders too. Gratefulness is where it’s at, for having had the chance to build it like this so far… and more’s coming.’

Hanging on is where it’s at. He hops in and we drive to the next route. I sit and wait and when he hops back in he smiles and shows me his hands all black with ink. I fall in love with the miracle of the growing boy’s smile yet again. There’s no point in ever thinking that starting again would help us fare better. It’s sunny and cloudy and there is but one whisper to remember to let out every now and then.

Happy 14, lil’ no longer growing boy, and many more coming. It’s going to be alright. You somehow seem to know how to take yourself there. I’ll be cheering you on, as always, whether the road takes you upwards or downwards. Really, you should know the big secret now: it’s what you make of it, so carry on. Don’t forget to smile.

Love, Mom.

Apples and Cherries and Oil Spills

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On July 29, 2016

In Armchair Mayor Column, Climate change, Environment, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column on July 29, 2016 in NewsKamloops. 

Up the street from where we live there is an apple tree loaded with apples to the point of having its branches snap under the weight. Plenty more are scattered on the grass. There is no one to ask about whether we could pick them so they won’t go to waste, and trespassing is not an option even if there is no fence.

Along one of the trails where I walk the dog there is a yard with a cherry tree where cherries now hang burgundy and withered. I got to see them beautifully red and inviting, until the cherry season almost passed. I took that trail daily hoping that I’d see someone and ask about picking. Again, nobody to ask, and the fruit went to waste.

But this is not a piece about food waste only but appreciation and gratefulness. For what we have and what we’re bound to lose if we’re not paying attention. Whether it is fruit that goes to waste when there are people right here in Kamloops, children included, who cannot afford healthy fares, or water that gets polluted and becomes toxic to the very communities it’s supposed to sustain, the trouble is the same: waste. In the latter case, waste in seen differently by those who cause it versus though who suffer from it.

That apples and cherries and oil spills could ever be connected like dots to reveal a surprising picture is hard to imagine, and yet I am attempting to do just that.

If you have been following the recent Husky pipeline oil spill in Saskatchewan in all its dirty bits, you know it cannot be left alone. Not when the possibility of a new Kinder Morgan pipeline passing through here is looming in the distance (hopefully not). Not when pipeline-related oil spills are happening when least expected (Kinder Morgan had seven spills in BC only since 2005, four of which involved volumes larger than 100,000 litres).

The approximately 250,000-litre spill in the North Saskatchewan River is no little thing. By now the oil made its way some 500 kilometres downstream and four communities along the way have declared state of emergency. The company is ‘deeply sorry’ and will take care of the financial side of the problem. That they call the spill a ‘pipeline release’ is disturbing and insulting.

There are two issues that that stand out with this spill.

The first is that a leak had been noticed 14 hours before the spill was reported. That is a lot of hours to do something to hopefully prevent a larger disaster. At least you can say you tried. They did not. While the initial story mentioned the 14-hour delay, a second version has now been released: no one really saw the leak. From guilty as charged, Husky swiftly becomes the responsible community employer that will try to remediate the ‘mistake’.

What gets a company off the hook easier: admitting that its staff should have and could have done something and they didn’t, or that they took all the appropriate measures but somehow they missed the leak? Accountability be damned, the PR team worked hard on this one and the Ministry of Environment rolls happily with it. Yes, Husky has already been praised for their stellar cooperation by the ministry, who perhaps forgot for the time being that they are called Ministry of Environment for a reason.

The second worrying issue is that the spill happened shortly after Husky restarted the flow of oil through its new extension pipeline. It was the old rickety pipeline that leaked or so they say, yet it is hard to avoid the obvious question: why so soon after the flow was reopened? Is that a known risk? We might never know if this could have been prevented since in 2014 the Ministry of Environment decided that there was no need for an Environmental Impact Assessment for the extension project. Choking yet?

Talk about a lesson being learned the hard way. Not by companies but by communities along the way. Except that those who pay the hardest price sometimes have the weakest voices sometimes. You see, being vocal enough to be heard and slick enough to be believed is often proportional with the finances tied to the issue.

There is but one conclusion: we do not have enough time for all the spills and carbon overload that can still happen with fossil fuels. A greener future must happen or else. We may not read much these days about climate change in our local and national news, except for the independent media outlets, but the 14 repeats of the hottest-month-on-record is one crazy reality that we should all think about.

Switching to alternative energy sources could not happen too soon. People are enthusiastic and willing to roll up their sleeves and do the work (and save money since the source is renewable). It would help immensely if the government, provincial and federal, would stop dancing with the same old rich partners and switch to the environmentally-responsible, albeit less rich ones that are waiting for their turn. It’d be about time.

So what is there to learn from cherries dried-up on the tree, scattered apples and oil spills? We only have so much that we can use in the time we’re given, and waste (of food and water and green clean spaces) is not an option. Not when there are alternatives.

Where to from here? Wherever our collective common sense takes us. The government, despite the occasional impositions, is still ruling over a democratic society so ideally we should function like one and demand that the right to make informed choices be respected.

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