Canada Day Message from an Economic Exile
Many times the world has beckoned before—
Other lives to live, other lands beyond my door—
Yet I’ve resisted
While it’s persisted;
What really suits
Is faith in roots.
Attending to international affairs
Need not take abandoning domestic cares,
Appreciation of the Other
Does not demand neglect of Mother
The justifications for travel, however,
Augmenting, urge departing forever.
Still I plug along, persevere,
Never really wanting to leave here
But now I suffer the rising voice,
“Do current conditions give any choice?”
O Canada, hell bent to globalize
Encourages all to de-regionalize,
Downsize, relocate,
Deconstruct, depatriate.
Our Uncle Sam sheds light
From fierce eyes burning bright
Illuminating horrific path to follow
In decay, gluttony, death, greed, rape to wallow
Leaving behind countless souls charred,
Hopes, dreams, mores and integrity marred.
Spirits give into disconsolation
Relent, consider betrayal of nation;
The drum beats out of the belly haunt,
Drive the war march for have against want
Over hill and sea, mother, daughter, sister goes
Depending which way the money flows.
O Canada, you can count me out
“Peace making’s” not what I’m about:
“Keep Afghanistan in line
And we’ll all be just fine”—
I join the protesters in their denouncing
All the “development” that you’re announcing.
I want no part in your Olympic sized debacle
That robs the poor, binds some in shackle,
That dumps the vulnerable in the street, uncared for,
Underemploys skilled workers, just one foot in the door,
Causes untold sickness and accidents at work,
Denies benefits, says the downtrodden shirk.
Cost of living simply exploding,
State responsibility unloading,
Social progress fast unraveling,
Whole populations sent atraveling.
Harper, I’m so sick of your blather!
I’m going despite what I’d rather.
Farewell landlord, employer, bank—
For my ticket to success you I thank!
Whatever you think, it ain’t happening here:
Time to move on, shake a leg, shift gear.
I’ve done it all—training, retraining—
Yet into the global market I’m draining.
Say what you will, prosperity’s not free,
You’ve squeezed me out, divested of me.
Scared, starved, human capital takes flight,
Dons wings of hope, chants prayer, come what might.
Is this all that I’ve gained from experience?—
Future of “mature” workers left up to chance?
My chances are much better abroad;
Like my ancestors, I must give up the old sod.
Thus I am carried upon the storm winds of change,
On the tides of competition, ‘cross oceans I range.
While rationalization of domination does ravage,
I’m just one in millions made collateral damage;
You’d think it couldn’t happen to me,
One of the “privileged” schooled in university—
Nobody talks about bust, boom and class,
One day on your feet, the next on your ass.
And so I roam the planet to scavenge,
Pinning hopes on others that I can manage.
Casualization is the name of the game,
But “recovery”, “freedom” is just a false claim—
Eventually, we’re in for a collision
With a rabid and retrograde vision;
Meanwhile I’m picking up stakes, moving out
Never mind heritage, never mind doubt.
Be what may the ideals of the state,
The charm and embrace of Korea await—
I’m confident they’ll take care of me
Even though English is a commodity.
The Other may be even more civilized
Than even I had so far realized—
I look forward to joy and celebration
Of the people’s truth and their innovation
While there may be lingering feelings of shame
We’ll know we should not each other blame,
We’ll accept the predicament of our lot
And know that war and plunder I teach not.
O Canada, you could not do better
And so history has let you unfetter
A rebel bound for glory, no matter what,
To write another chapter, not the book shut.
By Barbara Waldern
Vancouver (July 1, 2007)