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In the wake of the Summit protests, our work now is matching our personal with the political.

Monday April 23, 2001

As I recover from lung irritations caused by the weekend of noxious gas inhalation, and read reports from activists who participated in the demos, I try to integrate back into the world from which I came. Ever since my battle-brothers and I left the city-under-siege on Saturday night, I have become very aware of the disparities between the ideals espoused by the tens of thousands of protesters in Quebec, whose messages of transformation and responsible citizenship clash violently with the customs and manners of "civil society."

It was around 9PM on Saturday night when we decided it was time to go. Tear gas was billowing over the cliff from the Cote d'Abraham and protesters were becoming increasingly agitated. The sounds of rocks and sticks clanging on metal street signs, street railings, street lights and the like was reaching a feverish pitch. We jumped into our van, (luckily none of us had been arrested, although J-man was limping from a rubber bullet that hit him at short range in the knee) and drove smoothly out of the city onto the highway headed for Montreal.

Soon after we exited the highway in search of a hot meal and toilet. As we entered a restaurant, I became acutely aware of my appearance. We hadn't had showers yet and had had only 6 or 7 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours - we looked haggared and reeked of tear gas, smoke and stress. The people in the restaurant were neatly groomed, drinking wine by candlelight, watching the hockey game on television and eyeing us down as though we were going to hold the place up.

"It's the revolution and they're watching the hockey game!" J-man shouted.

My compadres and I decided that we were in the wrong place. We got back in the van and returned onto the highway where we exited further along the 440. At the next exit we saw a strip mall, and pulled up in front of a video rental store where three young girls were leaving with a handful of videos. They too seemed oblivious of the chaos that was occuring on the streets of Quebec city. We had only driven 15 minutes along the highway and it felt as though we had travelled to another planet. The order and placidity of this consumeristic society became very obvious to me.

I was reminded of the Kind Kitchen that sprung up under the St-Jean bridge over the weekend stood in stark contrast to the impersonal, luxurious atmosphere that pervaded the roadside restaurant we stumbled upon. The former encouraged a sense of participation and community in the preparing, cooking and serving of food, while the restaurant atmosphere encouraged consumption as opposed to community. The Kind Kitchen is something that should be encouraged throughout the year and not just at special events. The messages of respect for the earth, equality among people, cultural diversity, democratic citizenship and the like, are empty pleas unless they reflect a living example.

It was at that moment that the concept of "summit-hopping" became very clear. While I sat watching the activities of the suburbanites around me, I realized that this phenomenon is counterproductive to the revolutionary tone that was set this weekend in Quebec city. For me, summit hoppers are those people who espouse hollow mottos and empty cliches about the dangers of globalization but continue to persue a lifestyle that is unsustainable. This is the difference between living in a country and experiencing the culture, and reading about that culture from a text book.

Thus, as I continue my (dis)integration back into a society where protests and daily life are at odds, as I walk down the quiet, orderly streets of Montreal, where people wait at the curb for the light to change before crossing, I make a promise to myself that my everyday activities must reflect my political aspirations. It is clear that in order for the battle to be won, we must LIVE it.

As this new week begins and the shadow of Quebec City begins to take shape, it occurs to me that the onus is on me to live in a truthful way, in a way that reflects my highest ideals. The often surreal and ambiguous "revolution" is potent not only because it espouses tranformation of our political institutions, but rather because it requires each and every one of us to transform the way that we interact with the world.