As I write this I am watching the may trees in my backyard sway in the wind. My grandfather planted them before I was born: one for each of my three sisters. Past them is our clothes line, the aging telephone wires, the dusty back alley. I feel safe. I feel at home.
I consider the installment of photos that I posting today. In contrast to the rich green out my window, the pictures seem especially dark, especially grimy. I wonder for a moment: Should I post these? Is it right to portray the city in such a dark light when the spring has brought just beauty? Is it fair to do this to my home?
I stop myself. This is the curse of feeling secure. When we are in times of plenty we like to pretend that the darkness does not exist. And by denying its existence we can never fully confront it. In the case of Canada’s colonial legacies (which I address in this portfolio) this means never truly questioning how we live and how we perpetuate injustice today.
It’s not that we should never be happy. Instead, it’s that we should never give in to the temptation of willful ignorance. I can take joy in the beauty of the may flowers or the dusty back alley, but I cannot forget that the land in which those trees are planted or which those roads divide was not my family’s to take. I can peer out at my neighbourhood with affection, but I cannot forget that there are people in this city who do not have the luxury of a place to sleep.
So while my photos may seem out of place amongst the excitement and beauty of the Edmonton spring, I post them as a reminder: let us not forget the injustices that are always being committed, despite what the view from our window may be.
I consider the installment of photos that I posting today. In contrast to the rich green out my window, the pictures seem especially dark, especially grimy. I wonder for a moment: Should I post these? Is it right to portray the city in such a dark light when the spring has brought just beauty? Is it fair to do this to my home?
I stop myself. This is the curse of feeling secure. When we are in times of plenty we like to pretend that the darkness does not exist. And by denying its existence we can never fully confront it. In the case of Canada’s colonial legacies (which I address in this portfolio) this means never truly questioning how we live and how we perpetuate injustice today.
It’s not that we should never be happy. Instead, it’s that we should never give in to the temptation of willful ignorance. I can take joy in the beauty of the may flowers or the dusty back alley, but I cannot forget that the land in which those trees are planted or which those roads divide was not my family’s to take. I can peer out at my neighbourhood with affection, but I cannot forget that there are people in this city who do not have the luxury of a place to sleep.
So while my photos may seem out of place amongst the excitement and beauty of the Edmonton spring, I post them as a reminder: let us not forget the injustices that are always being committed, despite what the view from our window may be.
This is the second installment of a portfolio featuring my own photos and the words of Dennis Lee and The Weakerthans. You can check out the first installment here.
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