Speaking Out

Every day I hear people all around me say, “We are so blessed to live in Canada,” and I agree. There is a plethora of resources, an abundance of food, warmth, shelter, career advancement opportunities and let’s not forget beauty. Every time I hear comments like this I am filled with ease, but at the same time I cringe.

I still remember my first English class in high school. I was in Grade 9 and it was period two. The teacher walked in, smiled and got right down to business. The first item on her agenda was plagiarism.

I have always looked forward to Ash Wednesday. Ever since I could remember, there was something about receiving an unusual mark on my forehead that got me excited. Maybe when I was a bit younger I didn’t understand everything about Lent or why we were receiving ashes on our heads, but there was that special mystery to it that I remember enjoying as a child.

I still remember my first English class in high school. I was in Grade 9 and it was period two. The teacher walked in, smiled and got right down to business. The first item on her agenda was plagiarism.

I wear red on Fridays. It’s not because red is one of two colours associated with Christmas, my favourite holiday. It’s not because red represents the Holy Spirit and as a charismatic Catholic the Spirit is a major part of my spirituality.

Do reserved people seem stuck-up to you? When some people avoid conversations, it’s easy to assume they are pretentious. However, that’s not always the case. Your peers may unjustifiably perceive you as arrogant without you knowing it.

I hated catechism class as a child because I had to miss Saturday morning cartoons. But more than that I hated when catechism class ended because it meant I would have to wait. 

I could feel the undertow of the Pacific Ocean pull me further into the waters as I attempted to yell out to my friends for help and tried to catch a glimpse of someone on shore. I couldn’t help but ponder whether these moments would be my last. With barely time to say a prayer, I was being toppled over by huge waves which moved my body in every direction. Minutes later, as if by the hand of God, a wave pushed me close enough  to shore so that I could grasp hold of the ground again. A near-death experience was not how I expected my Peruvian mission trip to end.

At Mass, I often listen to people as they say the Our Father and the Apostles' Creed, wondering whether they ever stop to think about what those words mean. It's funny how you can recite prayers without paying attention to the important words you say. Sometimes when saying repetitive prayers like the rosary, I find myself just going through the motions, either because I'm worried about school or just not focusing, so I stop myself and consciously reflect.

Do you find yourself tripping over your words more than usual lately in the effort to appear politically correct? Over the past Christmas season, more than in previous years, I was especially aware of the awkward "holiday" jargon such as re-naming the Christmas tree a holiday tree to try and be more inclusive. To me, it is obvious that we belong to a society whose members are so fearful of stepping on toes that they often do not step out at all.