In what world is it laughable to drive a bus for a living?
A federal cabinet minister, troubled by the recent murder of a Winnipeg bus driver, stood in the House of Commons this week to pay tribute. He began by saying that he too had once worked as a bus driver. The room erupted, with mocking laughter exploding from the opposition benches. It was prolonged.
Amarjeet Sohi, minister of infrastructure and Liberal MP for Edmonton Mill Woods, was saying, “Mr. Speaker, as a former bus driver I want to convey our thoughts and prayers . . .” when he was drowned out. For what could be more risible than a sweaty bus driver becoming one of them?
I watched the reaction on the Liberal benches. Bill Blair, MP for Scarborough Southwest and former Toronto police chief, has an immobile face, as if he is still on undercover surveillance. It suddenly changed as he heard the laughter.
On high alert, he angled his head and his eyes narrowed and sent out lasers. He surveyed the Conservatives as if he were taking down names. It was extraordinary, the face of outraged Canadian decency, a face like a quote. MP Adam Vaughan and another MP beside him turned angrily as they heard it. Science Minister Kirsty Duncan, sitting beside Sohi, looked up in distress and exclaimed. New Brunswick MP Ginette Petitpas Taylor shook her head in disgust.
An indignant voice was heard to say, “What’s wrong with that?”
Will interim Conservative Leader Rona “billionaire lifestyle” Ambrose reprimand her MPs for cruel snobbery? Will elitist Kellie “I have 22 letters after my name, I am not an idiot” Leitch hush her colleagues?
I don’t know if Leitch was there. That night, she would be speaking in Toronto at an ugly event organized by the peculiar Ezra Levant’s extremist-right so-called “Rebel” media. In grade school, we used to call boys like Ezra mean and dirtyminded. Our parents would call his parents and speak in clipped tones.
My problem is not the hate fringe in the Conservative Party — there will always be one — but its mainstream.
In what world is it laughable to drive a bus for a living? That Winnipeg driver was stabbed to death at 2 a.m. Imagine his pain, his fear, his blood staining the snow.
Until I read Paula Simon in the Edmonton Journal, I had not known that in the 1980s young Sohi was beaten and tortured in India, then held without charge for nearly two years, mostly in solitary confinement.
He came to Canada in 1981 with almost no English, and became a three-term Edmonton city councillor before entering federal politics. But first, he drove a bus. It was honest work. He took fares, dealt with abusive people, guided them, helped them and paid his way. This was how he began to know his city.
I don’t know what jobs are socially acceptable to Conservative MPs. They seem to despise the uniformed, cap-wearing, greasy-handed types who vote for them.
As she privatized and deregulated bus transport in 1986, Margaret Thatcher is alleged to have said, “A man who, beyond the age of 26, finds himself on a bus can count himself a failure.”
It wasn’t taped and may be apocryphal, but it does sound like her, doesn’t it. We all have aunts — per- haps they are Conservative MPs — who think this.
Conservative MPs also despise teachers and club bouncers because Prime Minister Trudeau worked at those jobs. But there’s no better way to understand Canadians than when they’re angry, drunk or need to hand in their essay late. “The dog ate it? And then he, like, ate it again? My mom said ask you first.”
I love waiters. As the line goes, you ask them for things and they bring them to you. I love nurses. You press the little button and they plump your pillows, ask if you’d like a little orange juice and do you want the Special Bath. Then the doctor comes and yells at you. “You could DIE!”
The work done by people in daily life is like a series of skits for intrigued toddlers. What do you want to be when you grow up, we ask small children. They don’t want to be anything medical — oh, they’ve had needles — but they do want to drive a bus on which the wheels go round and round all ’round the town.
My heart swells. Oh you precariously employed hog butchers, tool makers, deliverers of mail, welders, Nordstrom shoe staff finding me flats in blue-but-not-blue, I think you’d all be fine MPs.
You know why the Liberals harp about middle-class jobs? Because if you have one, you’re less vulnerable to the sneers of highly paid and well-pensioned MPs. If driving a bus is beneath them, imagine what they think of the unemployed.
I do not like their jeering. I will not tolerate it. To those who may never need the bus, learn to value the person who caters your parties, drives your Uber, cleans your office. Life withers, and one day that may be you. You will drive a bus and feel fortunate to have the work.
Sohi remained dignified and calm. “What I heard was laughter,” he told the CBC. “I take pride in my background.” hmallick@thestar.ca