#46forgeorge
One cyclist’s quest for change that started with the bike
On Tuesday, July 14, I sat in my office still in my bibs and jersey. The energy from the past 46 days ran through my body, the adrenalin still pumping as if I was in the midst of one of my 46-km rides. I sat there in my kit for probably two hours reflecting and trying to understand how more than 150 cyclists from across the city – including members of the Toronto police – and the province came to ride together to end racism.
I wish I could say that there was a grandiose plan attached to my rides, but there wasn’t. I didn’t have a plan when I started, but I did have a vision and that vision was to end racism. #46forgeorge came to me on a whim. It just popped into my head and I decided to run with it, or in this case, pedal.
We all saw it: George Floyd murdered by the knee of an officer, a public servant, who was hired to protect. Eight minutes and forty-six seconds – the duration, reported initially, the officer’s knee was pressed into Floyd’s neck. Floyd’s lifeless body was still handcuffed when emergency personnel arrived. It struck a chord with me. I could feel his pain, but admittedly, I felt nothing would change.
“For the first time in my life, I see change occurring. I see people rising up and voices being heard.”
I had seen this story before, and ones like it, many times. A Black man murdered by police. A Black child murdered walking home from the store. A Black man murdered in front of his family in his car while trying to do what he thought was the right thing by letting the officer know he was legally allowed to carry a firearm. A Black man choked to death for selling loose cigarettes. A Black woman shot to death in her own home. A Black man – and so on and so on. What reason did I have to think anything would change?
Like all of you, I was angry. For some reason, for the first time in my life, I decided to take action. Instead of posting my frustration on Facebook to garner a few likes, something in me said, “Do something!”
#46forgeorge was and is designed to start uncomfortable conversations about racism and prejudice. It is meant to challenge the body and most of all challenge the mind. To create any change, whether physical or mental, we have to go past pain thresholds. We have to break habits. We have to get uncomfortable. It is how I correlate cycling an uncomfortable 46 km everyday for 46 days with painful discussions. We must destroy and rebuild to enact any sort of change.
At 5 a.m. on May 30, I started riding.
Toronto’s Exhibition Place, where I rode the majority of my rides, became hallowed ground for me during my
46-day protest. The 2.5-km loop became meditative and therapeutic for me. It forced me to slow down and it forced me to pace myself.
Change will not come with force and anger. We are human beings; we automatically shut down when we feel attacked. We go into a defensive state, resulting in no progress being made. You have to slow down. You have to take a step back and you have to listen. Most of all, you have to try to understand. It isn’t easy, but nothing in life worth having is.
During those 46 days, I was forced to deal with pain, not only my own, but others’ as well. Admittedly, it was something that I had not prepared for or even thought about when I started the journey. How do you prepare for pain? No matter what you do, it is going to hurt. I didn’t expect I would become a shoulder to lean on for so many, at times the weight pressed on me was unbearable. A woman explained to me that through #46forgeorge and speaking with me, she discovered that she had Indigenous roots by reaching out to her family to talk, something she hadn’t done in years.
The solo rides at 5 a.m. – looping around the same street signs, listening to the same birds – forced me into my own head. They demanded I take a deep look within myself and face my own pain, my own insecurities, my own fears. I cried, I felt sad, I felt angry, I felt lost, but I knew and I have always known, the other side of pain is beautiful.
What we, the community, created through our collective pain is beautiful. In 46 short days, we went against our natural human instinct to remain comfortable. We ignored our bodies’ calls for rest and our minds’ signals to change the topic. We built #46forgeorge, a movement that has brought us all together in solidarity.
Reflecting back on the journey, I think of the more than 100 children who rode 4.6 km in Dundas, Ont., and discussed prejudice, trying to understand why certain words or actions can be hurtful. I look back at the friendships I’ve made, in particular with Toronto police Insp. Hank Idsinga, and the conversations we’ve had regarding policing and community. I think of the conversations I’ve had with members of Parliament, Iqra Khalid and Greg Fergus, and how the movement, which was a thought in my mind, has reached the federal levels of government. To be completely honest, when I saw the murder of George Floyd, I was pessimistic. I
had seen the story before and felt nothing would change. I am happy to say that after those 46 days, that tune changed. For the first time in my life, I see change occurring. I see people rising up and voices being heard.
As I write, it’s been more than two weeks since my last ride. But the time you read this, a few months will have passed. A lot has changed for me: my mind and my outlook on life being the major things. I have become more calm and understanding. Most important, I have found my own personal happiness. Happiness is difficult to achieve. Human beings harbour so much pain within them, most of which is rooted in our childhoods, that it becomes difficult to remove let alone identify. Those 46 days changed my life. I rediscovered myself and I faced my pain, something that I had been avoiding for more than two decades.
To everyone who supported #46forgeorge by joining me on one of my early-morning rides, doing your own 46 days, sending me positivity, love and inspiration and to those who criticized some of my actions and sent me hate, I appreciate all of you. Without you, we would not have sparked a global movement. Without you, we would not have started having uncomfortable conversations. Without you, I would have never found my own happiness.
After the pain is beauty.
“To create any change, whether physical or mental, we have to go past pain thresholds. We have to break habits. We have to get uncomfortable. It is how I correlate cycling an uncomfortable 46 km everyday for 46 days with painful discussions.”