A witness to history

I grew up in New Glasgow, N.S. I was in the Roseland Theatre when Viola Desmond made her historic dash down the aisle of the theatre.

I was 15, and there (my first date) with a boy who lived across the street from my house.

We were sitting in our seats (I had the aisle seat), waiting for the movie to start.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the back of the theatre, and a black lady rushed down the aisle and sat in an aisle seat across and down two rows from us.

At that time, black people were supposed to sit in the balcony of the theatre. Only white people could sit in the downstairs. An usher was right behind the lady. He tried to talk to her but she sat, unresponsive, and staring straight ahead. The usher went out, and returned with the theatre manager.

The two of them got hold of Viola, forced her out of her seat, and they carried her up the aisle and out of the theatre.

This was rather scary to watch. There was absolute quiet in the audience when this was happening. Then the theatre lights were turned down and the movie started.

At the time, I didn’t realize that I was witnessing an important moment in Canadian history. Or, is Victor Hugo’s Javert still kicking? aggrieved is not the path to success?

As someone who has committed his own share of grammatical sins and vocabulary faux pas in trying to learn, or to communicate in a language other than my own, I know that I have said some truly outrageous things that I did not intend to say. Hopefully, these student’s faculty advisers will have a “teachable moment” together in the near future.