My Grandmother's Great-Grandfather was a political refugee.
He crossed over the border in his mother's womb. His family had held out for more than twenty years in the hope that the promised recompense and reparations would be paid for losses in the insurgency. Family land had been seized, houses and farms burned, government officials had been assassinated or sent into exile. His parents finally had had enough and made the fateful decision to cross the river, go over the frontier, and make their way to freedom under a system of government that was more to their liking and where they felt they could live free from tyranny.
They crossed into Upper Canada from Upstate New York around the time of the War of 1812.
In the late 60's I remember sitting in a local diner and seeing a rather touching reunion. The waitress who was serving us let out an audible gasp and ran to the door where a young man in a jeans, carrying a backpack, was sheepishly standing.
From the conversation I gathered that he was a draft dodger, fresh from crossing over at Champlain New York. I turned to my mom, expecting to see her angry, but she just smiled.
You see, my mom is a refugee too. She was the daughter of German-Dutch colonials in the Dutch East Indies. She grew up as an involuntary resident and guest of the Emperor Shoah in Japan. She was not a prisoner, per se, but things got a bit dicey near the end.
My Oma crossed Tokyo during the night of the firebombing to be with her girls - we still can't figure out how she did this impossible feat - and there are pictures of the four women, Oma, my aunts and mother, where their arms hang below their sleeves like sticks and their cheekbones are razor sharp from the lack of rations.
Two weeks after the surrender a local Kempetai came by the residence where the German nationals were living and, over friendly drinks with a merchant seaman, allowed as how he had had a list of all foreign nationals. His job, in the event of a landing by the Americans, would have been to round up the foreigners so they could be strapped to the front of cars, buses and tanks in the vanguard of a counter attack.
The summer after the occupation started there was a flood in the mountains where the family had been moved to. US Marines saved everyone by taking them on their backs and crossing a flooded gorge on two strands of rope.
Whenever my mom saw a US Marine she would ask to shake their hand and thank them.
My Uncle Brian was with the 5th Marines at Da Nang in 65 and 66.
For those two reasons I expected my mom to blow up at the sight of the draft dodger. But she didn't.
Later she told me and my brothers that if any of us or our circle of friends heard about any young men from the Sattes in need of a place to stay we were to tell her right away, that we had more than enough space in our house (we didn't, actually).
I found out years later that it was about that time that she learned about how changed Brian had been by the war, and some details of what was really going on there. Brian came back a changed man. He didn't reover for almost thirty years.
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We know refugees in Canada. At the school where I teach there are refugees from Asia, Africa, Latin America and Europe. They come because they have well based fears of persecution, harm, and death. Gypsy kids in Hungary are spat on in the streets. Girls from Afghanistan and Pakistan have seen first hand what happens to girls who want to go to school. A little girl I taught from Nigeria once hid in a basement for three days while people who did not share her family's precise views of a loving God burned and killed their way through town.
It is because I understand, from family experience and from contact with people who had real reason to flee their homes to preserve their lives and freedom, that I ask this favour of you all here:
Starting Wednesday - could you see that these peoplestay the hell home and cool off?
For one thing they won't like it here.
We have elections where no one bothers to ask what church the candidates attend, or whether they even believe in a deity. Indeed, if someone started bringing up God in a political speech we'd all ask if her or his meds were in order.
We have legal gay marriage and no one really makes a fuss about it.
We have no law against womens choice on abortion. That 's right - there is no abortion law at all.
We don't have Capital Punishment. Anywhere.
We have single-payer universal health care.
Handguns are considered special tools for police or people who target shoot. Very few people own them.
We have the metric system.
Our public education system tends to still be well funded and working.
So, friends, please do all in your power to stem any horde of disaffected yet clueless Repubs from coming across our border in the wake of Obama's victory on Tuesday. They won't be happy or welcome here, and by the time they figure out what arses they have made of themselves we will have gone through needless expense.
We are your friends and neighbours (note correct spelling there) and we deserve better than that.
Thank you and
Good day eh?