I confess to being at loss for words this year as I commemorate the 1989 massacre at École Polytechnique in Montréal. So much stuff — so many incidents of male violence against women — have been layered over it since…
That’s basically two more generations of girls who’ve grown up fearing for their safety on dates, walking home at night, going to pubs or class or for that matter coming home for dinner.
We want to see progress to encourage ourselves to keep pushing for change. And yet we don't want to magnify a tiny step forward to give others the illusion that everything's fine. This is what I'm wrestling with on the 27th anniversary of the Montréal massacre.
Between the mass shooting at Pulse in Orlando, the assassination of Jo Cox and this dude rolling on his motor, waving a gun in the air I am beside myself with rage and fear about what on earth is happening to men.
Friends, family, comrades, co-workers, store clerks, waiters, all. So much progress made, so much more to do. Personally and politically.
It's a token event, I know. Women hold up half the earth and there's just one day to celebrate them? Seems unjust. Now I hear the post-feminists and never-quite-made-it-to-feminists saying “yeah, but where's International Men's Day.” And I'm with ya, bros. I am. I really hope that some day we get to the point where an “International Men’s Day” would be appropriate. But there's a few things that have to happen first, namely: