Sometime in early February this year, I passed a man standing blindfolded with his arms outstretched and signs at his feet outside the McGill Library. In my distracted rush to print off an essay, I did not realize, until I passed him again, what was written on the signs, nor the fact that the blindfold was actually a Keffiyeh. His sign said “I am a Muslim Canadian, I am told I am a terrorist. If you trust me, hug me”.
On January 29th, 2017 around 8 pm, two masked men entered and opened fire in a mosque in Quebec City, killing six people and injuring several others. The police originally suspected several men to be the shooters, but their investigation concluded that one man, 27-year-old Alexandre Bissonnette, was responsible for the attack and charged him with six accounts of 1st-degree murder. There is no doubt that this was a blatant hate crime against Muslims, which has horrifyingly become more and more institutionalized, prevalent and normalized in today’s society. An interview with Bissonnette’s former classmate and friend Martin Robin revealed that Bissonette “…just wanted white immigration to Canada and Quebec, exclusively.”
The effects associated with and inspired by the outward racism corresponding to the most recent American Presidential election are astronomical and global. Racial profiling, stereotyping and discrimination are deeply entrenched into western culture, and have been present and problematic for centuries throughout the entirety of western society’s dominance; However, the influx of violent and public acts against minorities has been unignorably related to the flagrant racist behavior of the U.S. President, Donald Trump. Time Magazine points out that “the Southern Poverty Law Center has counted more than 200 complaints of hate crimes since Election Day, according to USA Today“.
It is apparent that since his entry into politics, closeted racist and extremists have found sanctuary in his prominent existence, and that is a major issue.
After I walked past the man with his arms outstretched and read his sign, I did exactly as he asked: I hugged him. And it felt really really awesome. Not only sensing his gratitude and relief but also experiencing the human connection of sympathy and love. An hour or two later in that day, a group had congregated in the central area of the McGill campus creating a giant circle surrounding the man with the blindfold. Another man was holding a loudspeaker, speaking out about the attack on the mosque, and the gratitude they all felt for our compassion and engagement with his movement. Engaging and recognizing simple movements, even with actions as simple as a hug, are more powerful than possibly imaginable. Unity defeats discrimination; Love trumps hate.
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