I feel lucky to be sitting here today writing this post. I'm buried in work and exhausted after a grueling day of class and a long drive home last night on snowy roads, but at least the barriers I faced over the past 48 hours were of my own making. I should probably be reading or writing, but on the other hand this needs to be said. And more importantly, I need to say it.
As I waited at the border last night to come back into the US, I began to get nervous. I've never had problems at the border, but things have changed over the last week. There were 4 cars in line. I didn't see what happened to the first one- I had put my car in park and was trying to get my voyzer app set to play the next pdf (if you drive a lot and have pdf's to read- it's a solid investment). The second car in line was sent back to Canada. The third car was sent for secondary inspection after a long exchange with the agent. I pulled up and wasn't sure what to expect. Within two minutes I was on my way home without a fuss. Was it my Nexus card? Study permit? The fact that I cross the border so frequently that I recognize many of the agents from previous interactions? Or did it have something to do with the color of my skin and the way I speak?
Yesterday I came into contact with a wide range of people from different places, which is one of the best things about McGill. In a single day I personally interacted with Canadians (of course), and Americans, but also people from Colombia, Taiwan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Pakistan, Argentina, Brussels, India, Japan, and China. And those are just the homelands of people I know.
Two of my professors not only acknowledged the recent events that have caused distress for many students, but also provided space and time for a discussion. This meant the world to me- more and more I get the feeling that I am doing exactly the right thing in a place that is perfect for pushing me in the directions I need to go. Looking back I cannot imagine how my day would have gone without having had those opportunities, while recognizing that these conversations might not have happened at different institutions.
During these discussions I learned that my peers experience much of the horror, frustration, and fear that I do, but also that they are determined to fight against the forces that pull our world further toward racism, oppression, and violence. I learned that classmates had been urged by their families to abandon their studies and return home while they could still travel. Others have been forced to curtail their activities and modify their lifestyles to avoid putting themselves in harm's way. Collectively we struggle to console each other during these dark times, but I was heartened by the incredible sharing of experiences that were terribly painful. They strongly affected me and increased my resolve to take action.
I was urged yesterday to do what I can to resist in whatever way possible. That is why I write this post today. I am not from one of the countries affected by the illegal travel ban. I am not Muslim. I am not female, nor do I have colored skin. I am the veritable epitome of heterosexual white male privilege, and I today I use this privilege today to share experiences of others with an audience that they are unlikely to reach. I write today in confidence that I am not alone in how I feel about recent events and how they have affected people who have done nothing to deserve such horrible treatment.
I encourage all of you who happen to read this to act in whatever capacity you can. Share this post, talk to people who have different world views, sign a petition, attend a rally, stand in a vigil, point out propaganda when you see it- whatever you can do, please resist. For those of us with privilege, resistance takes effort but is unlikely to cause lasting damage. This is not the case for many, and because of our position in this world we must act.
