Even Peripheries Have Peripheries
Driving back the four hours back to Thunder Bay from Blue Lake Provincial Park last night, I was slightly taken aback by what, a week ago, would have been utterly normal. It was a news broadcast from CBC’s Thunder Bay station.
That’s all.
But – last night, it seemed so far away. It seemed so completely removed from the reality of the area through which I was driving, and from the reality of the people of the area, with whom I had been hanging out for the past four days – many from Dryden and Red Lake.
I felt a little ashamed; here I am – here we are – in Thunder Bay, feeling so remote and disconnected from the dominating cultural presence of Southern Ontario, perceiving their arrogance and unconcern toward Northern Ontario… and yet the very same could be said about Thunder Bay in relation to the surrounding region of Northwestern Ontario. I had never, ever thought it could be the case. I had always thought that the two of us – Thunder Bay and Northwestern Ontario – were of the same mind, the same angst. It was something of a shock to discover that I should be wrong.
It wasn’t my imagination either, I’m sure of it, or some fantastic identification with the more remote communities of North-western Ontario on account of some mere car-camping among the locals. No, the conversations were laden with indignation toward Thunder Bay and its corporate/service attitudes toward these small towns and, in particular, First Nations communities. It seems residents and businesses of Thunder Bay are as guilty of arrogance and disrespect as any of the worst from Toronto. Go figure.
I had never really considered it before. What Thunder Bay feels when a mill closes or a new box-store opens, these remote communities feel it so much more. Simple reason: they’re smaller. The area-of-effect is so much more condensed. When Abitibi-Bowater closes a kraft machine in Thunder Bay, and 400 jobs are suspended, it hurts a little. But when 400 jobs are suspended in Dryden, it hurts a lot. When 400 jobs are suspended in Ear Falls, well, it kills.
And jobs are being suspended, if not on paper then in looming unpredictability of the resource industry. In Red Lake, for instance, the gold mine has said that there is 5-10 years left in the vein before the mine closes. That’s little comfort for a communitiy – especially when the mine has been saying that for over 30 years.
It would be easy to write it all off as the brutish and short reality of the resource industry. That’s what happens. If only the workers in these industries weren’t people with families, having a desire to set roots down and be happy for a while, comforted by the hope of a secure future.
You’re a good writer, Dan. I like it.
Oh, thank you Angie… and thanks for reading.
Nice piece, Dan
Little Boxes
-Malvina Reynolds
1. Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
2. And the people in the houses
All go to the university,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers
And business executives,
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
3. And they all play on the golf-course,
And drink their Martini dry,
And they all have pretty children,
And the children go to school.
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
And they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same.
4. And the boys go into business,
And marry, and raise a family,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
This was the opening music for a program called Weeds for the first three seasons.
“City” is a four letter word. They quite literally suck.