Monthly Archives: November 2017

The Rise of Hate

The Rise of Hate

Hate tweets, hate speech, hate videos, hate vlogs and blogs, Hate appears to be on the rise.

Haters see themselves as only being honest or sticking it to politically correct losers, and they’re proudly displaying their middle finger in defiance. Having a strong opinion doesn’t make a person a Hater but how they consistently deliver their opinion can.

Haters feel powerful as their tribe grows stronger. Laughing amongst themselves and rolling their eyes about things like harassment, violence and the suffering of others. They are not supportive of campaigns by marginalized groups who dream of better treatment. They blame Feminism, immigrants, other countries, news outlets, and a plethora of individuals for everything they can possibly think of.

They have created divisions between allies, community, friends, family and even life partners as they become accustomed to treating others poorly. These people have forgotten how to be kind except when they are patting the back of, or shaking hands with, their own hate club members. They feel energized after writing or vocalizing their worst possible thoughts which says more about who they are than about those they target. Issues can’t be debated without insult or dismissive statements, and they take no responsibility for their behaviour.

Haters come from all walks of life but one commonality is the need to belong and be heard – they long to be relevant. On Twitter – a haven for Haters – you will see Actors finding a new audience for outrageously angry rants. Comedians who trade humour for cruelty, so-called Leaders being bullies, and so many others who have found a way to dispense often meaningless drivel. (And let’s not forget Armchair Politicians)

Their message, “You Are Not OK but I am! We are!” A mantra every narcissist, hate group or aggressor identifies with.

Haters don’t tend to sit down or connect in any way with the people they rant about. They expend little to no effort to learn more about a person or group in order to find some common ground. (Which is possible) They are content to be hostile. Slowly these people, who once may have had some compassion or common sense, get eaten alive by negativity without ever knowing they were prey.

It is entirely possible that they have low self-worth; even if they want to tell people otherwise. They can’t be fine in the mind because hate kills happiness, love, empathy and cooperation. Look into the eyes of someone who leads with love, practices tolerance and has a true interest in others. Now look at the eyes of someone who is disgusted by another person, cruel, impatient and disinterested. Eyes are the windows to our soul.

We can learn from someone who has keenly considered the impact of their words and whose intention is to do right by others as opposed to the person whose intent is to crush them. It doesn’t take intelligence to put together a few characters to curse, or demean another person using infantile speech, but it can irrevocably change things.

Historically, we have seen how fear can grow, and that fear became uncontrolled anger and that anger boiled up to hate. Such feelings rose up to cause division between people who were once neighbours and friends. It began with a statement against a person,people or belief, then moved onto propaganda that was written and distributed. The manufacturing of hate produced large quantities of rumour and suspicion which then culminated into civil unrest. People’s actions or feelings seemed innocuous at first but HATE always acts as a catalyst for war in one form or another. 

A Tribute to Cst. John Davidson

A Tribute to Cst. John Davidson

On a rainy day in Abbotsford, British Columbia the landscape of ordinary streets changed into a sea of uniforms, flags and citizens. They came from all over Canada, Scotland, England and the United States to pay tribute to a fallen officer, Cst. John Davidson of The Abbotsford Police Department.

As my friend (who knew of him through her daughter) and I walked towards the centre in which his Celebration of Life ceremony would be held I was struck by the amount of people, the security presence, the sounds of air traffic but little to no talking. There were no cell phones ringing, no laughter, no children at play or any of the usual noises that permeate our neighbourhoods; just the sound of boots walking.

The main centre was reserved for “blue bands” which was all police and emergency personnel. A centre, a short distance away, would hold the overflow of people who wanted to attend and watch the proceedings on large screens. We sat in quiet contemplation, stood when asked to stand and when guided towards moments of silence it was as if we were one mind.

Scrunched up in so many hands were tissues ready to meet the eyes and cheeks that carried tears for someone we’ve never met. For those that did know Cst. Davidson it was particularly hard to fight back emotions as they spoke about their beloved friend, colleague, husband, father, brother and uncle. His life played out to us through stories, pictures and video. We understood that he would not at all expect or enjoy the focus that was being placed on him but people like John Davidson – who selfishly give – don’t understand our need to give back.

When the service was over we walked towards the final procession area. For miles again a sea of officers, first responders and civilians stood along a street, in the cold, with rain pelting down upon already soaked uniforms -all of us ready to say our final “Goodbye and Thank you.” The gun salute rang out to momentarily end the silence and then the police motorcycles rumbled passed. With lights flashing and cars approaching the shout signifying to stand at attention was next and as the car carrying the body of Cst. John Davidson, and the cars for his family passed by, arms raised in salute.

When I got home I shared the experience with my husband. I showered to try to get rid of the bitter cold that ate through my clothes to my bones. My mind stuck in time, November 19, 2017. Later that evening as I laid down in my bed I couldn’t help but think, as my husband arrived next to me, that at least we have this moment again. My mind wandered to Cst. John Davidson’s wife who now faces long nights in a bed without her love. I think of his siblings and mother along with his children who must rely on their memory for pearls of wisdom and the essence of who he was. I know all of this well, having experienced at the age of nine what it’s like to hear my mother cry herself to sleep after my fathers sudden death. I know the emptiness of a house that was once a home because of the absence of someone so loved. But this isn’t about me.

It’s about a brave man who chose a career that is both dangerous and rewarding. It is about a man who loved nature, physical fitness and who pushed himself and others to be the best they could be. He believed in the power of people to change and had a way about him that even those receiving a ticket would shake his hand. He had no tolerance for drunk drivers. He helped youth to reject drugs that were taking them out one by one and cycled to raise money for cancer. He had a sense of humour and so much more that made John Davidson a soul that will be missed.

Thank you to the family for allowing us to mourn with you in such a public way. Know that when you think there is nobody remembering you or him, you are wrong – I am. (And I suspect many others beyond your police family will be too)

Coverage of Tribute

Remembering Our Veterans

For the first time in my life I was not in Canada for Remembrance Day. My husband and I, plus a couple of our friends, were away in the United States. During our trip we proudly wore our poppies and this morning – before heading back home – we sat for a moment of silence at the 11th hour. I’m not sure that everyone who passed us by in the lobby of the hotel knew what we were doing but we didn’t mind. Quietly in front of the fire we sat and paid respect to our veterans.

I have to say I missed watching the ceremony and so I’m not sure in the future I would be away for this day. I also couldn’t help but think about the death of a police officer in Abbotsford BC, Constable John Davidson who died in the line of duty only days ago. So many brave people for generations have put their lives on the line for us and I remain eternally grateful for one and all.