Finding hope for future in legacy of local leader

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 09/11/2024 (670 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

“He’s going to win, you know.”

In the weeks leading up to the U.S. presidential election, I heard and saw this comment a lot, both in person and online. It often felt sinister and smug, wielded like a pin to deflate people’s sense of hope.

Because it did feel hopeful there for a minute, didn’t it?

It felt hopeful when U.S. Vice-President Kamala Harris announced her run to be the first woman — the first Black and brown woman — to be president of the United States.

It felt hopeful when Gov. Tim Walz seemed like he might bring some much-needed Minnesota Nice to the White House.

It felt, however briefly, like America might choose differently this time. Now, politicians are politicians, and I don’t think we should be in the business of treating them as gods or idols. Harris was not perfect, because no one is, but to my mind, the choice here was clear.

Instead, America chose Donald Trump. Again. Trump has shown us exactly who he is over and over and over again and America chose him anyway.

“How is this allowed to happen?” I kept asking the TV as I watched Republican red — MAGA red — spread like a bloodstain across the map. “Does America really hate women this much?”

Adding insult to injury, daylight saving time also ended. The days are getting shorter and it’s hard not to descend into darkness along with them — especially if it feels like you’re dragging around the popped-balloon carcasses of your hope.

But hope is all we have.

It’s also all around us, even when it feels thin — even when it feels impossible.

I usually don’t love Celebrity Mentions Winnipeg content, but I did smile when actor Henry Winkler, who is shooting a movie here, tweeted a photo from the Tyndall stone halls of WAG-Qaumajuq: “A moment in the Winnipeg art museum to CLEANSE your mind and move on making sure our country remains great!”

People are still looking at art, and making it, too.

People are still creating, still writing, still putting ideas out there.

They are still caring for others, still organizing, still advocating, still protesting.

They are still persevering, still moving forward, still imagining a better, more just world.

They are even, dare I say, still living, still laughing, still loving.

All of those acts, big and small, require hope.

It might rise later now, but the sun still came up today. It’ll come up again tomorrow. And sometimes it’s not enough to look for cracks of light. Sometimes you have to pry them open yourself.

The day before America re-elected Trump, we lost a giant in Justice Murray Sinclair, the Anishinaabe senator and lawyer who led the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

I don’t want to breathe his name in the same sentence as the other guy, but I can’t think of a leader more diametrically opposite from Trump — nor can I think of a man who better symbolizes hope.

Because Sinclair understood that hope is an action. Hope underpins the work of Truth and Reconciliation because it imagines a way forward — a way forward that requires action from everyone, in every sphere. Action that can be undertaken regardless of who you are, or who is in political office.

Ninety-four calls to action, to be precise.

Sinclair understood, in the words of author Octavia Butler, that “the very act of trying to look ahead to discern possibilities and offer warnings is in itself an act of hope.”

Do what you need to do to combat the darkness and despair, and take care of yourselves out there. There is work to do, and we need you.

An earlier version of this column ran in this week’s NEXT newsletter.

jen.zoratti@winnipegfreepress.com