The politics in the USA has a tendency to cross the border to Canada. Not in a we get to vote kind of way, but in a media overload kind of way.
So, we read and see all the news. And people here seem pretty obsessed with it all. Heck, I admit in many ways I’ve been obsessed with it all. Well, I was. Since the election results came in last week, I have not read a single news article about the election, the future of USA (and or/the world) as a result, or well anything other then the odd headline that shows up in the news. I just cannot go there as it all upsets me. So I’m avoiding.
But, I digress.
The point of this is the seemingly increasing negative rhetoric surrounding immigration and immigrants that I’ve been noticing lately.
Some people in our lives, who have been overtly racists in the past (although have not said a single racist thing around us since Baby MPB joined our family), have recently been talking about how we need to stop immigration to Canada and stop spending money to support immigrants when they get here. I wont go into details, but needless to say I was appalled for so many reasons.
Then, I realized, after the conversation had passed, that my son is an immigrant! I have no idea why, but I hadn’t really thought about the fact that Baby MPB is an immigrant – of course he is an immigrant, he was born in a different country and we are currently working to get his Canadian citizenship. Holy s@&!, does this mean they think my son should be forced to leave? Next time it comes up in conversation I intend to ask them just that, point blank. Honestly, I expect they will say no, Baby MPB’s different. But that begs the question, why is Baby MPB different? Is Baby MPB different because they claim him as a family member? Is Baby MPB different because he was “fortunate” to be adopted by us and somehow we make it okay? Do they truly think Baby MPB shouldn’t have access to health care and other benefits that our country offers – benefits Mr. MPB and I have fought desperately to get for Baby MPB? Again, questions I intend to ask.
I do not care if these questions make them uncomfortable.
I also don’t know how I will process any of the answers they may give.
I guess, I don’t really know what I expect to happen when this conversation eventually occurs, and I am confident it will one day. And, in some ways, I don’t really know what I expect to get out of putting them on the spot. Yet, for some reason I feel compelled – maybe it’s because I think we deserve to know how they really feel so that we can attempt to protect our son from such hateful comments. But also I think it’s because I’m trying to understand how people can believe this type of thing and by asking the questions maybe I’ll get some insight into a line of thinking that I truly do not understand.
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