Canadian Soldiers… 3 Days to be Kicked Out!

Ok so here’s the deal. I love Canada. I’ve always been proud of being a Canadian. In fact, there’s nowhere else in the world I’ve ever dreamed of living (except for those few moments in the winter when we hit -50s Celsius… then my mind begins to wander…). But this bit of news I’ve heard recently has suddenly “burned my biscuits” (my husband hates that phrase!).

Last night, on the news, there was – as there always is – an update on the Syrian refugee crisis. As many know, Canada has said they would take 10,000 refugees. Of course this has started all kinds of uproar, but aside from that whole raucous, I was EXTREMELY disappointed with what I heard. Are you ready for it?

They are removing soldiers from the barracks in order to give housing to the refugees.

No joke. Now, this is not all military bases, but still! And do you know how long they have to move? 3 days. Honestly, 3 days. What kind of appreciation to our troops is that?

First, they are told they have to leave their home in order to make homes for refugees. Last time I checked, military paycheques weren’t the greatest. I’m pretty sure barrack living is much cheaper than normal housing situations. So we’re going to kick out our soldiers who don’t have tons of money, who probably don’t have a down payment for a house or a damage deposit saved up for a rental, possibly causing some of them to become rather “homeless” in order to save from refugee homelessness? Does this even make sense?

Secondly, they are being given 3 days. 3 days. The number keeps flashing in my head. In most rental evictions, you get a week. In extreme cases, maybe less than that. But the thing is, the soldiers didn’t do anything wrong. They’re being evicted on zero grounds of things they’ve done themselves. And we’re given them the glorious number of 3 days to restructure their lives. Yup, 3 days to find a place (this can take forever), 3 days to move, 3 days to uproot their current lives and create new ones. 3 days is a joke. This is ridiculous.

What do you think, am I being too hard on our government? Am I not seeing the whole picture? Is the thought that maybe we should treat our soldiers well since they are prepared to give their lives for our country ridiculous? I’m beyond bewildered.

Maybe this is wrong, but can we not put up temporary housing for them until something else is figured out? I know if I was running away from a huge terror, I would be happy to end up in a warm church room, or a town hall, or any building with a roof over my head and warmth. I guarantee food donations and other things will be coming in. I know people are willing to help out. So why aren’t we using vacant places instead of kicking our own residents out?

If you have any clear thoughts, definitely leave them below. This whole situation just blows my mind. Leave it below and let’s hear some other thoughts on this whole situation!

Farmers Do Not Love Their Cows

I apologize that the title of this blog sounds hateful. I can assure you I don’t have farmers. For 2 years of my life, my family had our own farm. My best friend in university’s family had a beef farm, and for two years, my hairdresser and her husband had a beef farm. I don’t hate farmers in the least. But here is an argument I was part of this week.

Now, normally, I’m not such a vocal person. I’m not the kind of person who just looks for a fight or who believes everyone should think the same way I do. In fact, because of my Christian beliefs, I believe that God has given everyone the gift of free choice, and so I am not someone to take that away. Of course this gets bordered when it inflicts pain on others, but that’s a whole other topic. The fact is, in Exodus, God gave permission to eat certain animals, one of them being cows. So if you want to eat beef, I may not agree with it, but you have total right to do that. So that’s not where this argument is coming from.

What I saw this week was a picture of an almost frozen calf in a farmer’s truck. This is a typical appearance. In my two years of farming, we were up in the middle of the night to help our animals sometimes. I get the work it takes. I see the dedication farmers have. But the caption of the farmer is how much they cared/loved their cows. That’s where I had a problem.

Now, this world has problems enough with understanding what love really is. All too often we see people throwing around the “love” word without really meaning it. People date people and still keep their own needs above their partners. People get married, and stop caring for each other. This is an awful view of love. There are so many terrible views of love. One of the pure views of love that are left in the world is when I look at mothers who truly love their children. They will do anything to protect them and give them the best lives possible. That’s what love should be. Fighting for the one you love, willing to die for that person, that’s love.

Now, I know we are talking about animals and not humans, and many people do not consider them on the same level, so that’s fine. Let’s go with that. But love, in no sense of any manner, means killing the thing you love. Think of a child’s favourite toy, or an adult’s favourite car. You love that toy/car. If that object were to “die”, you would be incredibly upset and angry. These objects aren’t even alive. Yet the cows are. (This also goes for pigs/sheep/chickens, etc…)

So these ALIVE things that farmers are claiming they “love” are raised to be killed. Does that still seem like love to you? Is it caring to kill them?

I had someone tell me that ranchers and farmers are different. That’s cool. I can see they are different. That’s not a big deal to me. The ranchers say they are animal rights activists and they do what they can to give the cows the best lives they can. Well, although it does seem like a very nice gesture to give an animal the best life possible for their short lives, do you think they would call it a “good life” to live for a couple years then be killed? Would you call it a “good life” if you were raised to the age of 2 or 18 (2 year old cow = 18 years as a human) to know you would be placed with a bullet between your eyes and then cut apart for others to eat? Would you call that loving? Is that caring? Knowing you were only born to be food? I don’t think so.

I think there is such a disconnect in this world! It’s crazy! If you are willing to put all that care into an animal, taking a cow into your home to warm them up, saying that you “love” them, well, I will agree you are acting that way. But why do you stop loving them? Why does it change from this seemingly “love” feeling to a feeling of “get on my plate! Die!” Is that how you feel about your dog? Is that how you feel about your cat? Is that how you feel about your children? They’re only worth loving for so long before you get rid of them and don’t care what happens to them?

Some of you may be wondering why I have such a big deal over a simple word. But here’s the reason, people are not owning what actually happens. Sure, the cow may have a “good life” before its death date. But here’s what happens to this “beloved animal” on it’s death date. It gets taken on a usually overloaded cow trailer where they are not given water or anything of substance on the way to slaughter. Once they get to the slaughterhouse, they become terribly frightened. They hear other cows expressing their fright and just as a dog has amazing senses in the personality of humans, cows are no different. They can sense fear and know something is wrong. The “beloved” creatures are as scared as a child in the dark except darkness is easy to fix, death is not. So not only are they unloaded to this terrible place, many people abuse these animals while they are still alive, fighting with creatures who are only scared and reacting as such. Do you go in and punish your child for having a nightmare? These cows are LIVING their nightmare and being punished for it.

When the time comes to be killed, a bullet is put between their eyes. Now, according to government regulations, it’s ok if they’re not killed by that bullet as long as they are stunned and unable to move. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s almost like a totally functioning person in a coma. These people, when out of the coma, are able to tell you things that people said because they were totally there, just not in control of their body. That’s how these cows are except they can’t tell you what people are saying, but they can tell you about the hooks that were painfully shoved through their legs. Would you like to be alive with hooks piercing your body? I’m going to guess not. Of course, the hook is not enough to kill the cow. So the next step is being sliced open down the middle of their bodies and through their neck. Mmm. What an awesome feeling while you’re still alive. So humane. Such a “loved” and “cared about” animal, right?

So here’s the thing. If you can accept what you do, and you have no problem saying cows are just money to you, that you don’t actually love them and don’t care about the violence you put them through, then by all means that’s at least not hypocritical. Again, I don’t agree with it and think it speaks volumes about the kind of person you are, but I at least appreciate the honesty. But if you advertise to the world that you are such a caring and loving person to these animals, you are so hypocritical and maybe even lying to yourself! I’m asking farmers and ranchers to take responsibility for their actions. You’re not really an animal rights activist when you’re still sending them to a bitter death. So that’s the part I have a problem with. Accept the realities of your job. Don’t just pretend that you’re doing something good for them because for all the good you did before, I guarantee the cows would choose a little less cozy life in exchange for keeping their lives. Nobody wants to die, not even animals. They are alive, they have thoughts, they are just unable to communicate to us the way we need to understand. So start thinking and accept what the truth is. That’s it. If you choose to continue to eat meat, like I said, that’s your choice. But know where that meat is coming from and what that animal is going through to get to your stomach when the world over knows a vegetarian/vegan diet is a way to thrive. You don’t need meat, you don’t need dairy products. But make your choice while being educated and not hiding the truth.

Know the truth, own your choice.

Choosing Your Battles

Now, in many relationship advice books or forums, people will tell you to choose your battles. Of course, this comes in incredibly handy in relationships because, quite frankly, nobody is going to be the same as you. Especially when you live together, you are then trying to fit two lives into one and there will be many conflicting issues when two opinions are trying to melt into one.

However, my story doesn’t focus on a relationship per se. But it is about learning to deal with the small stuff, and only making a big deal over big things so that people have no way to argue back with you.

When my husband and I got our first apartment, it was in a “fixed” state. And what I mean by that is simply that the people before us were very rough on the place, having big parties and crazy enough to throw a couch off the deck into someone’s car below. Needless to say, they were kicked out, and all the stickers on the fan blades, the dirt and garbage throughout the place, and patch work here and there needed to be done. It wasn’t perfect when we got it, but it was our first place and that was all that mattered.

As time would go on, the lack of a screen door on our deck (the previous tenants had smashed that), had started wilting the corner of the door inwards. We mentioned it several times for almost a year, but it apparently wasn’t a big issue. We also had a screen missing in our bedroom window which was mentioned, but that never got fixed either. My husband wanted to stop paying our rent and be a little more forceful when it came to getting these simple repairs done, but I took the much gentler approach and said that we’ll just wait a little longer.

Now, as you can imagine, when those -40 winter days come, having an exposed corner of your door to the outside was a huge issue. When I could sit on my couch and see the snow outside on my deck through the one corner, that was an issue. Unfortunately nobody did anything about it. We kept being promised that something would happen, but it didn’t. And after a year and a half of being there, I decided that it was finally time to make a little noise. So I found the e-mail for the CEO of the rental company, thanked him for making cheaper places available and for having pet allowance (that a lot of places don’t), I simply explained to him our situation and reminded him how awful it was going to be on another -40 night. My door was fixed within 2 days. Now, I also had my fridge quit, and that was replaced right away. Had I complained and been more forceful about everything, I don’t think this would have been the case.

In my e-mail to the CEO, I also mentioned I was planning to move to another one of the company’s rental properties simply for being closer to work, and without asking, in apologizing for what we had been through, he waived our transition fee and got me an apartment rather quickly. I also had an ex-landlord of our current property (she was promoted higher in the company) call and offer any assistance in the transition I needed. Now think about that for a moment. I chose my battle. I didn’t battle every little thing. When you have lots of little incidences built up, people can see where you’re coming from over the bigger things and are usually more than willing to help you out.

Fast forward to our new place. In the year we’ve been here, we moved in with 2 broken sets of blinds (still never been replaced), a missing screen in our office window, the basement leaked every time it rained, our basement completely flooded twice, and just recently our tub quit draining. Now of course, my husband wants to take the same forceful approach because in reality, it is ridiculous. However, they did fairly quickly respond to the flooding, it took them about a year to fix the cracks in the basement, but they still did it, and it’s now taken them 5 days to fix our tub, plus I will have to call them back tomorrow because the piping from the tub is still dripping over our kitchen counter. But I haven’t made a big deal about any of it, and I choose not to because the more compliant you are over the small things, the more compliant they will usually be when it comes to something big.

So people, choose your battles. Don’t make a huge deal about everything or people will treat you as that “complainer”. But be patient with the small things, and you watch how much people will do what they can for you when it comes to a big thing.

The Penalty of Standing Out

I hate the way the world works sometimes. I hate seeing people in pain. I hate watching people getting picked on or bullied. I hate sin and wrong-doings in this world.

When I was going through my university years, completing my education degree, I had a desire to work with special needs children. It wasn’t because I looked forward to the extra work that often comes with special needs children, but because I wanted to make a difference. I knew special needs children were often put down and sometimes stared at as if the were a circus sideshow. I knew I could step up and be the voice of those children, and I knew that I could help those children feel as important as they are. But that’s not what happened.

At first I ended up teaching at a Native School. It took me awhile to learn the different dynamics needed to teach students who come from a history of anger. It was a definite learning curve in understanding the culture, the behaviours, and the thoughts about different things. But one of the things I found is that my classroom was often their safe place. My classroom was the one place they could count on someone being there to love them. I was a safe place for these kids.

Now as much as I loved being in that position, time would have me change again. This time, to a place where I wasn’t such a safe place. These kids did not need me (or at least felt like they didn’t). The attitudes were indifferent, the gratitude was gone. I really struggled at first to see how in the world I could make a difference when my students were convinced they had everything the needed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t my first year that I figured it out. It was my second and my third that really opened my heart. I realized that maybe I wouldn’t be able to reach all students, even though I try. But there is at least one in each class who needs someone they can trust; someone they can break down their barriers and let them truly see the inside that they keep.

It broke my heart when the first student really let me in their life. The amount of background some of these kids hide is disheartening. It sometimes makes you wonder how they even function. It’s no wonder some of them put up a tough-front at school. Some of them are simply caught in that worldly struggle: the one where they are fighting between being good and doing what they know is right, and doing what the world expects and wants them to do. Absolutely the struggle gets worse as the generations get older. It’s sad in the very least, but it does, unfortunately, exist.

I witnessed something that brought this whole thing up in my mind. A situation that brought up a whole slew of memories.

One of my students is running for class rep in the upcoming school year. She’s an awesome student, wonderful in both academics and her Christianity. Unfortunately, she is one in very few that does not struggle with desires to be popular. She will not swear because others are doing it. She does not talk about inappropriate things because she has no interest. She knows what she believes and she sticks to it. She knows what is right, and that is what she does. And it has made her unpopular in her class.

Today, the vote was completed. And though she almost perfectly fits the description of the position she is running for, more votes were left blank than were voted in favour. My heart sank and my blood boiled a little. If there were legitimately good reasons for not letting her have the position, then I would accept that. But I know it’s because they are upset the one person they wanted to run wasn’t able due to his grades. Whether it’s an expression of bitterness or anger, is it right to decline someone that not only wants the position, but is ready, willing and capable of doing it well?

I don’t know what the right solution is. After all, voting is an expression of your opinion. But my heart aches in knowing that the reasons behind the reactions are wrong. And that bothers me. Someone who perfectly is capable of doing something so well, being held back by unpopularity, is wrong. It takes me right back to my whole philosophy of teaching, and that is that students are capable of more than they are doing, and standing up for those who don’t have as much of a voice.

I grew up in public schools where situations are much worse than I have ever experienced in my years of private school. I have seen “losers” beat up for simply not being good enough for others. I have seen the separation and isolation of those who needed the extra pull-out help and did not think like the others. I have seen students dragged from classrooms because they were acting out in anger about their situations. It’s not pretty.

One year, we did a fundraiser where the boys provided a lunch, and we bid on these “anonymous lunches”. When the bidding was done and every girl had her lunch, then the boys would reveal themselves and we would share lunch with them. I just happened to get one of those classmates that was always taken out for extra help, and who had problems with his anger, reacting from the situations he was in and the way he was treated.

I will forever regret the way I treated him.

I didn’t say anything mean, but that’s simply because I didn’t say anything at all. I was silent the whole time. And now I cannot even go back and apologize for being “snobby” because he was killed in a car accident several years ago (I think I was still in high school). That’s guilt that I have to live with, and guilt that started to change the way I reacted to people.

The one girl that was dragged from our classroom was probably the lowest person in our class. She didn’t always take showers, and she didn’t come from the most well-off family. In fact, I actually don’t know how she was treated at home. But what I do know is that people didn’t like her and daily made fun of her. I will never forget the one day she came up to me and told me that I was her role-model. I didn’t try to be anyone’s role-model, I just tried to talk to her and be nice when others wouldn’t. And look at the difference that made on her life. The simplest of acts I could have done, and it literally changed her world.

Now I’d like to say others followed, but they didn’t. I’d like to say her life changed for the best, but it didn’t. I did manage to get in contact with her again during university, sadly to find out she was pregnant and the baby’s father wanted nothing to do with her as soon as she became pregnant. As a matter of fact, he ran out with another girl and married her very shortly afterwards. And to make matters worse, he called social services claiming she was an unfit mother and had her baby taken away. In no way did her life get better.

I’m sad to say I’ve lost contact with her. My only method of contact no longer seems to work. I do pray for her, that things work out and she’s able to have her baby back in her life. I know she was fighting hard for him. But I pray God’s love surrounds her and God-willing, I will be able to connect with her again.

I truly, truly do hate the world treats people that are different – people that stand out from everybody else. I had the position of popularity and I misused it once. But I promise to do my best to never misuse it again. When a situation arises where someone needs a voice, I wish to be that voice for them, to stand up on their behalf. Just because you don’t think the same as everyone else or do the same things everyone else does is not a reason to be treated so badly. Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Make a difference in someone’s life. Even if it’s just one person you’ve helped, you’ve literally just changed a person’s entire world. Do what you can and don’t delay. You never know the good you can leave behind.

Week 10 Day 5

This morning, I absolutely did not want to get out of bed. I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe it’s the dread I have for parent-teacher interviews this evening. No matter what, I always get nervous. But either way, they must be done!

The work day was short, and even further shortened by the fact we had our Student Association speeches and elections today. It went very well, and I believe the students selected very good representatives for our school.

After the students left, instead of going out to lunch with my colleagues, I stayed at the school to prepare. Preparing for parent-teacher interviews is not easy. You have to re-read your comments, review the student’s work, select examples of student work to show, etc. I also like to have pen and paper ready to go in order to write down notes of what we talk about and suggestions that were made.

When it finally came time for parent-teacher interviews to start, I felt better but as always, like I couldn’t be prepared enough. Either way, the 13 interviews I had scheduled all in a row began. I was surprised how well the parents accepted some hard information, and how willing they were to work as a team on their students. As any teacher reading this will know, it’s a very relieving feeling to know that you can work as a team with parents and that you can support each other for the betterment of the students; something I appreciate so much!

It was a long evening, and I didn’t end up leaving the school until after 8:00 pm. I also hadn’t eaten much as I didn’t have any breaks since 2:00 pm when the meetings started. When I came home and ate, the carbs hit my system and I started fighting to stay awake. I didn’t want to take naps anymore as they always seem to make me feel worse instead of better. But when I’m sitting and trying to talk to my husband, yet my eyes keep shutting on me, I know I might even fall asleep on the 2 minute drive to the gym, and who knows if I might fall asleep at the gym? It hasn’t happened before, but it may.

So, we took a nap. But when the alarm went off, my husband looked at me and said he was too tired to get up. I can’t drive his truck and my car is still not running. So unfortunately, this meant no workout. But on the other hand, I got extra sleep. I will be playing catch-up with my workouts, but I can do that. My husband’s health is equally as important as mine and so I wasn’t going to argue, though I felt like it. I know love is not just said, but must be shown, and I’m not always good at that part. But tonight, my husband slept and I will definitely catch-up in the gym when he’s awake and ready to go!