PRIDE

Pride - as opposed to shame or social stigma. We took the word and marched with it. 

Pride. It's not about tolerance. No-one wants to be tolerated. It's like putting up with something irritating or bad. 

I don't want to be tolerated. I want to be celebrated. Every soul on this earth, all living things can be celebrated - even for one thing, even for potential. From the smallest of creatures to those of the grandest stature, we can find commonalities and differences. Sure - we all just want to live, but let's make that simply the starting point rather than the final goal. 

My culture, my people, have invaded just about every nation in the world in an effort to make other people "like us" because we believed we had it all going on and it would just be much easier if everyone behaved like us.If everyone had to look different then at least we could behave similarly - follow the same religious principles, same political structure and the same lust for land and what we perceived to be "riches." How could one tiny island of people contain so much ego - or was it fear? I'm not proud of that. All that being said, we British have done some pretty cool stuff over time as well and when I go back to that land of my ancestors I feel a different connection to the land of my people. I'm not sure it's national pride, but it is definitely a sense of connection to my roots. 

It's not that I'm particularly "proud" of my sexual identity either. In fact, decades of abuse, beatings, marginalization and oppression have made me kind of self-phobic / homophobic. I am eroded and worn by the experience of trying to be myself and love whom I choose. It has been a lifetime fight and I am worn thin, but for all you right-wing, fundamentalist haters out there, don't think this means you have won. It only means you are bullies. I know who I am. I am proud of surviving and, at times, thriving, of moving the cause forward for those younger folks who have followed me with what I hope to be an easier path. I am proud of the brave souls who ploughed a path before me when it was still illegal to be gay in Canada.

I do worry that all the changed laws have only created a veiled acceptance and the same repugnance for those who identify as lesbian is only held under a blanket of law. I worry that the hate is more insidious. People are aware that it is illegal to commit acts of hate and discrimination so they find ways around it - excuses for taking away your employment, for not serving you well in a store, for excluding you. I know I have had jobs kept from me and taken from me because of people's perceptions and guesses about my identity. 

I know things have changed and the battles have been well-fought by centuries of people who had to find their way around the hate to the time of Stonewall and the people who stood their ground publicly and said no. I remember when it was a PRIDE march rather than a parade - when you took your life and career in your hands by making that walk. Let us not forget the millions of lesbians and gays around the world who remain imprisoned under a death sentence because of who they choose to love. There are more than seventy-six countries where it is illegal to be gay. There are ten countries where it remains punishable by death.

It is time for me to pull back from the fight somewhat. The battle scars have begun a ceaseless ache in my being and the costs keep going up. It seems the more honest I have been with what I have faced and continue to face, the greater the chicanery and subterfuge used to perpetuate hate and discrimination. So, it is time for me to lay down my sword (aka flag) for the time being and hope that it is picked up by anyone and everyone who is appalled by fear and the hate it creates. 

It's not that I am climbing back into the closet, far from it. I am making way for younger and stronger warriors to lead the charge. The whole battle analogy is weird anyway as I haven't ever raised a hand to defend who I am, with the exception of the instances in the early days where I had to defend myself against the physical blows and sexual assaults instigated by men who thought it was their job to show me what I was supposed to be like as a "real" woman. They are abusers and criminals against love and peace. 

I am a warrior, a survivor, a lover and a philosopher. I am a healer and a teacher, a spiritual guide and a storyteller. I am your daughter, your mother, your sister and your wife. I am a human animal just as you and deserving of peace, kindness and love. I give these things to myself and your hate will never finish me. Of these things, I am proud. I am proud of my physical womanhood. I have no need for the social construct you call gender for that is only a political lie to keep women down. I am a free soul, a superhero of love and of all the things I wonder in the world, it's "Why the heck are you so afraid of me?" 

May your PRIDE come from the knowledge of the worth of your life as it relates to how you value all life, how you raise each other up and celebrate one another for your beautiful uniqueness and difference, without the need to push another down to do so. 

In loving memory of every soul who has been murdered, jailed, beaten, outcast, tortured for who they are. In other words, this is dedicated to every lesbian and gay human throughout time. 

As always, thanks for reading. 

Gillian Cornwall, edited re-post, June 18, 2017

Original post, c. July 10, 2016

PRIDE

Pride - as opposed to shame or social stigma. We took the word and marched with it. 

Pride. It's not about tolerance. No-one wants to be tolerated. It's like putting up with something irritating or bad. 

I don't want to be tolerated. I want to be celebrated. Every soul on this earth, all living things can be celebrated - even for one thing, even for potential. From the smallest of creatures to those of the grandest stature, we can find commonalities and differences. Sure - we all just want to live, but let's make that simply the starting point rather than the final goal. 

My culture, my people, have invaded just about every nation in the world in an effort to make other people "like us" because we believed we had it all going on and it would just be much easier if everyone behaved like us.If everyone had to look different then at least we could behave similarly - follow the same religious principles, same political structure and the same lust for land and what we perceived to be "riches." How could one tiny island of people contain so much ego - or was it fear? I'm not proud of that. All that being said, we British have done some pretty cool stuff over time as well and when I go back to that land of my ancestors I feel a different connection to the land of my people. I'm not sure it's national pride, but it is definitely a sense of connection to my roots.

It's not that I'm particularly "proud" of being a lesbian either. In fact, decades of abuse, beatings, marginalization and oppression have made me kind of self-phobic / homophobic. I am eroded and worn by the experience of trying to be myself and love whom I choose. It has been a lifetime fight and I am worn thin, but for all you right-wing, fundamentalist haters out there, don't think this means you have won. It only means you are bullies. I know who I am. I am proud of surviving and, at times, thriving, of moving the cause forward for those younger folks who have followed me with what I hope to be an easier path. I am proud of the brave souls who ploughed a path before me when it was still illegal to be gay in Canada.

I do worry that all the changed laws have only created a veiled acceptance and the same repugnance for those who identify as LGBT* is only held under a blanket of law. I worry that the hate is more insidious. People are aware that it is illegal to commit acts of hate and discrimination so they find ways around it - excuses for taking away your employment, for not serving you well in a store, for excluding and marginalizing. 

I know things have changed and the battles have been well-fought by centuries of people who had to find their way around the hate to the time of Stonewall and the people who stood their ground publicly and said no. I remember when it was a PRIDE march rather than a parade - when you took your life and career in your hands by making that walk. Let us not forget the millions of lesbians and gays around the world who remain imprisoned under a death sentence because of who they choose to love. There are more than seventy-six countries where it is illegal to be gay. There are ten countries where it remains punishable by death.

It is time for me to pull back from the fight somewhat. The battle scars have begun a ceaseless ache in my being and the costs keep going up. It seems the more honest I have been with what I have faced and continue to face, the greater the chicanery and subterfuge used to perpetuate hate and discrimination. So, it is time for me to lay down my sword (aka flag) for the time being and hope that it is picked up by anyone and everyone who is appalled by fear and the hate it creates. 

It's not that I am climbing back into the closet, far from it. I am making way for younger and stronger warriors to lead the charge. The whole battle analogy is weird anyway as I haven't ever raised a hand to defend who I am, with the exception of the instances in the early days where I had to defend myself against the physical blows and sexual assaults instigated by men who thought it was their job to show me what I was supposed to be like as a "real" woman. They are abusers and criminals against love and peace. 

I am a warrior, a survivor, a lover and a philosopher. I am a healer and a teacher, a spiritual guide and a storyteller. I am your daughter, your mother, your sister and your wife. I am a human animal just as you and deserving of peace, kindness and love. I give these things to myself and your hate will never finish me. Of these things, I am proud. I am proud of my physical womanhood. I have no need for the social construct you call gender for that is only a political lie to keep women down. I am a free soul, a superhero of love and of all the things I wonder in the world, it's "Why the heck are you so afraid of me?" 

May your PRIDE come from the knowledge of the worth of your life as it relates to how you value all life, how you raise each other up and celebrate one another for your beautiful uniqueness and difference, without the need to push another down to do so. 

In loving memory of every soul who has been murdered, jailed, beaten, outcast, tortured and marginalized for who they are. In other words, this is dedicated to every LGBT* human throughout time. 

As always, thanks for reading. 

Gillian Cornwall, c. July 10, 2016

Hurt, Fear and Moving Forward

Rainbow Crosswalk

Gillian Cornwall, c. June 2015

It's me. My Voice. One Voice. 

I won't say it's "just" me because none of us are "just" anything. I am one who has stood, at times alone and at times with many, through 35 years, or more, of advocacy and activism. I say "or more" because even when I was a child I had to fight for a space to be myself rather than the person who others wanted me to be. At school, at camp, at home, at work, at play - for most of my life I have had to expend an uncommon amount of energy vying for space to be myself instead of just being and doing in the realm of what someone else sees as "normal" or fitting in. It has set me back in career and financial resource and continues to set me back. Over time, I have been labelled as a trouble maker more than a change maker. Rest assured, I would love to live without the "trouble." I'm bloody tired.

On a Thursday afternoon this past June, within the stretch of three hours, I went from a) listening to a few members of the LGBT* campus community calling me a perpetuator of violence when I spoke and cut the ribbon at a campus pride crosswalk opening to b) listening to the sound a raisin makes when you squeeze it at a mindful meditation workshop. The juxtaposition of these two events in such a short space of time does not only appeal to my sense of irony but also to my sense of how we traverse difficult encounters.

Until this post, I have not responded publicly or directly to these community members to let them know I will not carry the label they yelled at me that day. I am not "perpetuating violence." I am putting down their label: "perpetuator of violence." It does not fit who I am nor the path I have travelled.

The folks using this term indicated that painting a rainbow crosswalk on our campus is dangerous because it will lead community into the false assumption that the campus is safe for members of the LGBT* community when there is still work to be done and spaces on campus that are not safe for some. They feel the crosswalk gives a false sense of safety and will potentially leave LGBT* community members more open to acts of unexpected violence than if it were not there. For my part, I do not think that this is the case. I do not feel a rainbow crosswalk anywhere means I am safe or not safe. I don't think it reasonable to think that lines on a road could prevent violence, hate or subjugation of a people. I do think it marks an intent of advocacy, hope, and a recognition of some hard-fought battles surrounding issues of equity and work toward diversity.

There are quotes from the crosswalk protesters in this Martlet article.

It has taken me months to consider my response. I have been afraid to speak because I felt afraid, silenced and unheard by the protesters and I have been afraid of the response I might receive from them. I feel they made assumptions about me and my beliefs without knowing me, asking me or listening to what I had to say. I am tired of being afraid. I was not asked to participate in the interview or article produced by The Martlet newspaper. My speech and video of the speech are available in my blog article, Walking the Path of PRIDE.

I would like to point out that not only am I a staff member at my school, but I have been a student (non-credit), a step-parent, a volunteer and a teacher. I am a multi-faceted person and I do my best to listen, learn and help others in my community daily.

While it has been over 3 decades, I remember being 20. I remember how hurt I was and how angry that no one recognized that hurt. I remember that, sometimes, the only way I could express that fear, hurt and anger was to yell or to act out - repeating aspects of the violence to which I had been victim throughout my young life. When young voices are silenced by their families, their elementary schools, high schools and communities, they can disappear from us forever or, at times, strike out hard and fast.

I have experienced both silence and acting out in anger. I was silenced for years. Obviously, I still am at times. It's cumulative. It builds up. It erodes us. I have faced beatings while people walked by doing nothing to stop it, some staying to watch or to cheer the queer bashers. I have been sexually harassed and not spoken up because my experience was laughed at, negated, or I was told: "Oh, you know how people can be. I'm sure they didn't mean any harm." I've been pushed down and punished for the times I have stood up and spoken up. It has cost me jobs though I don't think I could ever prove it. I have been verbally, physically, sexually and emotionally abused because of my gender and sexual orientation. I certainly know that the work is not over. I am still doing the work everyday. I have been doing the work for my whole life and I will continue to do the work because I have seen the difference it makes and the cost is secondary to the path I hope to have cleared for those who come after me. I honour and respect those who forged a path ahead of me. I honour and respect myself, though, at times, that too is eroded.

We must listen to our children, celebrate their difference, their questions, their fears and their hopes and dreams. We cannot expect our children to be what we want them to be, what we perceive as right for them to be, or even what we perceive to be their easiest path.

For our university students, I believe we can teach skills some may never have had the opportunity to learn in their childhoods. We can teach ways of love over ways of fear and acts of kindness over acts of aggression. For if we do not make space for this in the education of our young people, who will? I believe in protest but I do not believe in unkindness or thoughtlessness as a way of bringing people together to affect positive change. I do not wish to shame anyone or say anyone should not be heard. I did everything I could to create a space for the protesters to speak on that day and they did speak. They had time at the microphone. I only knew of their desire to speak an hour before the ceremony and then made every effort to seek them out and listen to what they had to say.

I was asked to speak at the event to represent the Positive Space Network on campus - a visible network of students, faculty, staff and alumni who are working to make the University of Victoria a more welcoming and inclusive space for people of all genders and sexualities. I had the support of the PSN to speak at this event and I am proud to have done so.

We must continue to teach the history of activism, not just in Canada but worldwide, so we hear and understand the voices raised before ours, with ours and those that will follow. So much has been done toward equity, diversity and inclusion and so much remains to be done. To most people with whom I have spoken, this campus rainbow crosswalk represents that journey:

• the difficult path so many have walked to date in order to make it better for those who have followed, 
• where we stand individually and together in this moment, and 
• the long view ahead at what must be accomplished. 

The work ahead must be done by everyone - equity and activism can no longer be relegated to the marginalized groups affected. We must stand together as a community and support equity and diversity with solid goals and financial and human resource. I believe in the work I do and will keep doing all I can with positive intent - despite my missteps, errors, failings and through the dissent.

Personally, I was saddened and hurt by some of the behaviour and words during that protest, by the meanness of some of it, because it has been a very long path for some of us, a lifetime's difficult journey. To be negated and to know that some of the LGBT* community activists and advocates who were there felt negated or shamed - that's unkind.

The issues mentioned at the microphone by one of the protesters were valid and many of their concerns, such as a university policy on gender, are issues I, too, have been raising since another Canadian college came out with an excellent policy.

It was the protesters lack of knowledge of who I am and the lack of knowledge of the histories of the people who were there that was inconsiderate and subsequently harmful. I feel they engaged in the very assumptions against which they rail. Not to be seen as valuable to, or worthy and knowledgeable of, the LGBT* community I have served for my entire adult life was harmful to me because I do see you, I do hear you and what you have to say has always meant something to me.

Let us light the path for one another, offer words of kindness and support to those who are on their way and let us think before we say someone is perpetuating violence without knowing the work, history and beliefs of those at whom we are yelling. I am pleased that the event has brought greater attention to LGBT* issues on campus, but I am not comfortable with the means by which it has happened.

If you are at a public institution, remember, as school starts for the fall term, it is not something separate from you, you are that place. Whether you are staff, faculty, student, alumni or larger community, it is yours. We have chosen to be part of a community and, within it, we have rights AND responsibilities. We need to know our policies and work together to change them when they no longer serve us well. We are our schools, our governments and our communities. I hope we can all learn together, within a culture of kindness and respect, to manifest change and inclusion. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. September 6, 2015.

(Note: Apologies for the portion of text in lighter grey, 
it's a default from posting on the mobile application...)

Self Portrait

Gillian Cornwall, c. June 2015

Walking the Path of PRIDE

Pride Crosswalk

Photo by Gillian Cornwall, c. July 2015

Hurt breeds fear. Fear breeds anger. Anger breeds hate; however, love, unconditional love given with a good heart, without any expectation of return, that love exists and cannot be taken.

If you had the chance to read my post, titled: The Life Compassionate from Sunday, May 31, then you may remember the lessons in remaining compassionate in the face of disappointment or hurt. I believe that these lessons come up for us at times when we either need them for ourselves or we need to teach them to someone else ...sometimes both.

I spoke at an event this week. Some of you are already aware of it but, for the rest of you, it was the official opening of a PRIDE crosswalk at my workplace. It may not sound like much, but it took 11 months of collaboration and work to achieve the installation of this iconic symbol of PRIDE. Most people in attendance believed this celebration of accomplishments to be a good thing and some did not. Some people were hurt and angry because there is still more to do and they felt the crosswalk misrepresented where we are on that path of equity and inclusion. All voices were heard and the crosswalk was opened. For me, it was a celebration of what has been accomplished and it shows a willingness to participate in changes to come.

I have worked at this place for 20 years and participated, as an individual and multiple committee member to affect change, to make my community more equitable and diverse through advocacy. Notice that I say making, for the work is not done - likely the work will never be finished. There have been an enormous number of people who are change-makers participating in the process, some as individuals who stand up to be seen and participate in change by being themselves, despite knowing the risk of what should be a right for all, and those that have worked actively to bring about policy change ...and those who do both. Some have been at it for much longer than I. I am grateful to every one of them for their bravery and commitment. This crosswalk is a way to acknowledge the proud past and the work of these people and it is an acknowledgement that there is always more work ahead.

Past. Present. Future. Work done. Work being done. Work to be done. I am grateful to be a part of the process, despite the hate, anger and fear I have encountered, and can still encounter along the way. Celebrations of the work done are necessary and drive us forward, particularly for those of us who have dedicated our lives to make it better for those who follow.

Here is my speech from the official opening of the crosswalk, minus the section where I offered my thanks to some folks - I did not have a chance to ask to use their names here. Like every single person walking the face of the earth, people want to know: "Do you see me? Do you hear me? Does what I say means anything to you" ~Oprah Winfrey I hope my words will mean something to you:

"I speak, with gratitude for the strength, bravery and knowledge of the elders and all of the people of this land. I recognize I am not of this place and that I am standing, speaking my truth, on the traditional lands of the Lekwungen-speaking peoples. Thank you.

Rainbows are a reflection of sunlight through raindrops. When white light enters a raindrop, the different wavelength colours bend at slightly different angles.(1) So we each find our path when a light is held up for us in dark or difficult times. We are enabled to walk our unique paths, following our hearts and minds on our voyages of personal discovery. 

The PRIDE crosswalk is complete. The lines are painted and they stretch from one side to the other, representing this path we walk. They represent the original PRIDE flag, designed by Gilbert Baker in San Francisco in 1978. The pink (stripe) hearkens back to the pink triangles forced upon homosexuals, rapists and paedophiles, by Nazis, when they were sent to concentration camps during World War Two, but was added by Baker to represent sexuality. Please take time to investigate the history of this iconic symbol of PRIDE. 

The weight of oppression may grow heavy at times, but lay your burden down here for it was never your fear, nor your shame, to carry. Story by story, you will be heard and acknowledged and we will heal together. 

On this, our path of PRIDE, I see opportunity for acknowledgement, recognition and healing so we can go forward together, in wellness, with good hearts. This path represents our journey as a community. We are many beautiful, different threads and, woven together, we can make a strong cloth.

Take time to listen to our change-makers; do not see them as troublemakers if their stories discomfort you. Be brave. Ask questions.

Listening may be one of the greatest acts of healing you will ever perform. Each time you cross here, remember those who have worked for equity, diversity and inclusion and that our work continues until everyone is walking this as a path of love rather than a path of fear. 

In closing, I ask you for 3 things:

• Remember
• Be present
• Aspire

Our best bet has always been to start, stay and finish with kindness.

Thank you."

I wish everyone around the world a Happy Pride. For those still struggling for your basic freedoms and rights, I do see you; I hear you and what you say means something to me. We will keep working, for we do not truly have freedom until we are all free. With love and a kind heart, I wish you each peace and safety on your path and may we continue to hold lanterns up for one another in our times of darkness. Look for moments of peace and joy and embed them in your very cellular structure and in your soul to keep you going through times of drought - the rains will come again and so will the sunshine and, with them, rainbows. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. July 5, 2015

(1) Wikipedia

Victoria Pride Pin - "We Are Family"

Photo by Gillian Cornwall, c. July 2014

My PRIDE

Pride Steps

Gillian Cornwall, c July 2014

Ultimately, we all become the victim of our own oppressive practices. Your best bet has always been to start, stay and finish with kindness.

In the face of your greatest fears, keep your kindness close, for in your kindness you will plant the seeds of reason.

I just entered a contest in which I had to say of whom I am most proud, and why, in order to win a box of chocolates. If I do win, I will have only one or two and give away the rest as I struggle to become a less large version of my current physical self! 

I had no idea what I would write for this contest as I started but, in light of everything I have been going through recently and in light of it being PRIDE season around the world, here is what I said:

"I am most proud of myself for making it through 35 years of LGBT* advocacy - making it through the street beatings, the jeers, the never feeling safe, the glacially-paced social, employment and political change, for being proud of myself when my family wasn't, for advocating for me and the LGBT* population everywhere I have been, despite the pain, the cost and the loss. I am proud that I have stayed this long, despite my sadness and weariness, realizing this is no longer my baggage to carry alone. I will hold it up and say, "This is what it has cost and more. Never forget." I am proud of who I have become and to know that our stories are worth hearing and acknowledging - that they must be heard so that those of us who have fought so hard for equality and those of us who still fight so hard, can heal. I am proud to know that we are powerful and our words are so much more valuable  than a box of chocolates. Thank you for this opportunity."

One of my next projects will be collecting the stories of people who have been oppressed, to ensure they are heard and acknowledged, to ensure that there is opportunity to heal so we can move forward with an understanding of what has passed. It is not truly healing without recognizing the past and where we want to go in light of it: who we have been, who we are now and who we would like to be - both as individuals and as a society of loving, caring, peaceful beings. 

This PRIDE season, I respectfully request that you ask someone, who has been fighting the good fight for awhile, what it was like and how they are. Listen to the stories and grow to understand the importance behind the rainbow. 

With love and respect and a wish for all of us to walk our healing paths.

-Gillian Cornwall, c. June 28, 2015

Self Portrait

June 2015

Over the Rainbow

It's Pride week in Victoria, BC. Today is the last day of events culminating in the traditional (seems funny to use that word here) parade and festival attended by thousands and thousands in our community and beyond. It's a grey sky morning and I am hoping, for the sake of the organizers, volunteers and all those attending for the 30th time or the first, that the rains will remain at bay and all will go well. 

Today, I look back over the years to the first Pride parade I attended at 20 years of age. I didn't go when I was 19, afraid that someone (mostly my mother) would see me and my life would be over. By 20, I worked up the nerve to attend though I remember being terrified that someone would do something: jeer at me, throw something, laugh and point, or that we might have been arrested or caught in a battle. Not an unrealistic fear, as it turns out. I have been beaten and jeered at and harassed for who I love throughout the 32 years I have been out of the closet. I still deal with ridiculous comments and both clandestine and open discrimination. I don't remember enjoying Pride with considerably less fear until the last five or ten years. It seems to me that there has been a shift in our country, that something has changed and more people, not just LGBT community members, started coming to the events in greater numbers. 

Has there been a shift in the humanity of the people of Canada? I believe so. I believe that the greatest difference is in people's hearts. Human rights issues are now more commonly considered to be issues of all people. Infringements on the rights of all peoples are the responsibility of all peoples. We are not free until we are all free. Make it your responsibility to read about the history of LGBT rights in Canada and around the world. Realize that there are people imprisoned or killed in many nations around the globe for who they are and who they love. Make it your business to pay attention and respond. Love belongs everywhere. Remember those who have fought and the price they have paid.

Today before I go out and celebrate, before I enjoy the parade and laugh and cheer with friends, I remember all of those who have gone before me - all of those who fought, who paid with their lives or their freedom and all of those who continue to do so. I know that we must remain diligent; we cannot rest until we are all free. 

Pride is not a "gay thing". Pride is for everyone: a time to hold our heads up high and shout out: "I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses... I am good... I am strong ... I am worthy, ...I belong." -Gloria Gaynor 

We are all in the spectrum of the rainbow and perhaps it is over the rainbow and on the other side of it that we will look back and see ourselves as one, perfect in our difference and vital in our desire to love and live with kind kindness in our hearts. We ARE family.

Happy Pride to everyone. To those of you around the world who read this and run the risk of jail, torture or death because of who you are and who you love, to those of you who must hide and fear for your lives, know that you are not alone and that I, and so many others, raise our voices for you and will take action for justice. We are not free until you are free. 

In light, love and respect,

-Gillian Cornwall, c. July 6, 2014.

A "few" folks join in with the 2012 parade in Victoria, BC!

I dedicate this post to the beautiful, hard fought life of my brother, 
Christopher John Cornwall ~ RIP

Please take a few moments to check out the following organizations:

Human Rights Campaign: http://www.hrc.org/

Victoria Pride Society: http://victoriapridesociety.org/

You Can Play Project: http://youcanplayproject.org/

Human Rights Watch: http://www.hrw.org/

United Nations - Universal Declaration of Human Rights: http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/

LGBT History in Canada: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_LGBT_history_in_Canada

If you have more links of interests or comments, please send them in comments.

Love and Molecules Revisited

Eunice Audrey Jay(my Mother), Circa 1943

RIP

I originally posted this for Remembrance Day in 2012 and again, edited with greater detail, in 2013 but I wanted to re-post it today, for Mother's Day. I apologize to those who have already read this piece. The older I get, the more I think of the lives of my parents and the more I gain insight into why they were the way they were and why they did the things they did. 

One thing I remember so vividly, is my mother walking briskly through the streets of London one night with my brother, Philip, on one side of her and me on the other, an arm around each of us. She was reminiscing about her time during the war, when everything happened in a moment - life, death, love - and she sang us the songs of the day and we joined in for it was rare to see her this happy. It was as though we were given the opportunity to step back in time with her to gain an understanding of the passion she had for life, love and her country in that time and how every hour was savoured as it could very well have been one's last. 

This is one of the lessons I have carried throughout my life, thanks to my mom. I am passionate. It serves me both well and ill - I am all sunny days and raging storms. There is little middle ground in my nature. I have little patience for mediocrity and I am still learning patience and kindness everyday. I learned many things from my mother, some of which I have spent a lifetime unlearning and some are integrated in every fibre of who I am, leaving me glowing with cellular pride.

Imagine, my mom was driving a Velocette motorcycle around England in 1943. She was 19 then. She had a boyfriend who was a pilot. They used to read poetry to each other on the bench by "Peachy's tomb" at Harrow on the Hill where Byron wrote the poem "Lines written beneath an Elm in the Churchyard at Harrow" - a reflection of his time, daydreaming up there while studying at Harrow school between 1801 and 1805. This verse by Byron stands in bronze by this grave. 

Richard, known to his family as Dick, and my mother were in love. My mom was in the ATS at Biggin Hill fighter station and he was posted at Predannack Airfield flying Typhoons. They lived fast and true to their hearts. There was no time to waste by not feeling, blocking and worrying if it was right. Life was tenuous - up for the lottery at every moment as airplanes fell from the sky, bombs fell from the sky and buildings crumbled around people daily. The world was at war and nothing was forever. There was only the moment in which the truth existed.

Richard was shot down over France on January 31st, 1944. He was killed. His grave is in the Guidel Communal Cemetery in the Bretagne region of France. I have hopes of visiting there next year on behalf of my mother and to express my appreciation to him as an officer who gave his life for freedom from oppression. 

In 1948, my mother married my father. They had four kids, moved to Canada from England twice, started their own business and divorced in 1975. My mother continued to work to support the two children she still had at home. She created a new career for herself and kept my brother and I in school, in good clothes, with enough food to eat and the occasional vacation and special treat. She did well by us although she was sad - she had lost a part of herself in the process of all this.

At 58 years old, she died of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), robbed of her retirement and her chance to go to Europe and explore the arts of the countries she had spoken of so passionately over the years. I am sure she would have travelled to Guidel to see the resting place of her true love while there.

Her wish was to have her ashes taken to Peachy's tomb at St Mary's, Harrow on the Hill, to be spread in the place where she remembered her passion, her love and her truth. This was done in 1983 when I was 21 years old. I hope that my mum and Richard's molecules are dancing together still.

Live, love, be brave.

-Gillian Cornwall - c.May 11,2014.

My mother with a very young Wayne Gretzky

Photographer Unknown - approximately 1980

The Tear by Lord Byron

When Friendship or Love our sympathies move,
When Truth, in a glance, should appear,
The lips may beguile with a dimple or smile,
But the test of affection's a Tear:

Too oft is a smile but the hypocrite's wile,
To mask detestation, or fear;
Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soultelling eye
Is dimm'd, for a time, with a Tear:

Mild Charity's glow, to us mortals below,
Shows the soul from barbarity clear;
Compassion will melt, where this virtue is felt,
And its dew is diffused in a Tear:

The man, doom'd to sail with the blast of the gale,
Through billows Atlantic to steer,
As he bends o'er the wave which may soon be his grave,
The green sparkles bright with a Tear;

The Soldier braves death for a fanciful wreath
In Glory's romantic career;
But he raises the foe when in battle laid low,
And bathes every wound with a Tear.

If, with high-bounding pride he return to his bride!
Renouncing the gore-crimson'd spear;
All his toils are repaid when, embracing the maid,
From her eyelid he kisses the Tear.

Sweet scene of my youth! seat of Friendship and Truth,
Where Love chas'd each fast-fleeting year
Loth to leave thee, I mourn'd, for a last look I turn'd,
But thy spire was scarce seen through a Tear:

Though my vows I can pour, to my Mary no more,
My Mary, to Love once so dear,
In the shade of her bow'r I remember the hour,
She rewarded those vows with a Tear.

By another possest, may she live ever blest!
Her name still my heart must revere:
With a sigh I resign what I once thought was mine,
And forgive her deceit with a Tear.

Ye friends of my heart, ere from you I depart,
This hope to my breast is most near:
If again we shall meet in this rural retreat,
May we meet, as we part, with a Tear.

When my soul wings her flight to the regions of night,
And my corse shall recline on its bier;
As ye pass by the tomb where my ashes consume,
Oh! moisten their dust with a Tear.

May no marble bestow the splendour of woe
Which the children of vanity rear;
No fiction of fame shall blazon my name.
All I ask – all I wish – is a Tear.

October 26 1806