We owe it to our elders to work for social change

Despite many advances, it's clear there is much more progress to be made

There were many things that made me proud in 2020. The diversity in the crowds at various marches in support of the Black Lives Matter movement was one of them.

The march in Trois-rivières June 6 was a case in point.

Trois-rivières is where I was born and lived through early childhood. There wasn't much diversity in this city by the Saint-maurice River, but it was never an issue.

And as I did for the ones in Montreal, I watched the march in my hometown on television. I know how primordial marches are. They show unity, solidarity and the power of numbers. Historically, marches — and the images that have emerged from them — have helped move many needles. They make important contributions to the complex phenomena that are social movements. Still, marching is an act of protest I've never felt was a fit for me.

I find that in life, much depends on the manner in which you chose to do things. And often, thankfully, there is more than one right way.

I've had to remind myself of this many times, over the course of an ongoing process of introspection I began years ago. I often ask myself: How am I contributing to social change? Is it the right way? Is it enough?

In Be Water, a documentary on Bruce Lee released earlier this year, historian Jeff Chang says of the actor and martial artist that his very presence on screen was a protest. Just typing these words amplified the reverberation I felt when I first heard them. They fit and feel right.

This year, many firsts were celebrated. First woman this, first Indigenous that. But were these landmarks really signs of progress?

Earlier this week, I spoke with a first in his own right. Claude Pothel left Haiti in the early 1960s and made his way to Quebec. He is a pathologist, one of the first in Quebec who were Black, and the first among them to specialize in forensics. Over the years, he worked on some of Quebec's most highly publicized murder cases. His title of “first” is one I had to nag him into admitting. He doesn't brag about it. He never needed to. Modesty and reserve might be elusive to many of my generation, but they are fundamental traits of the now-retired illustrious pathologist and common in his age group.

When I asked Pothel how he viewed the recent social upheavals, he paused and replied gently: “It was due.” And when I inquired about what the most important lesson the good doctor had retained from his immigration to Quebec, he said:

“I knew and my children knew — because I told them as much — that I, and they, had to work twice as hard, to get to the same place as others.” That is the immigrant's credo. If I close my eyes, I picture my father and mother reciting it to me, just like many parents still do today to their children. That the principle still lives on and has been passed from one generation to the next, proves that despite the many advances achieved, the work is not done. It takes the perspective of elders to see things for what they really are: what has been accomplished and what has not.

How am I contributing to social change? Is it the right way? Is it enough? My introspection will never cease. But I hope, like Pothel, I never find satisfaction in being the first this or the first that. My objective is to make sure — through engagement — that I'll never be the last anything. That is the legacy of our elders and it's what we owe them.