Erased by the CBC (3 of 7)

Canada's public broadcaster denied O'Jay a voice in the conversation.

Part 1: Grave Financial Peril

Interview with unidentified CBC reporter. Screen capture from a video recorded by Ivana.

Despite the cold weather, Ivana says Ottawa “was packed and everybody was smiling. Everyone was happy. O'Jay and the other truckers kept everything tidy with snow shovels. Everything was spotless. No garbage, no nothing."

He nods, "People that live there told us they thought it was going to be a mess, but then they said the streets had never been cleaner."

Folks of all complexions, when they saw him sitting behind the wheel of his truck, would joke "So you're the white supremacist we've been hearing about." Everyone "wanted to take a picture with you," remembers Ivana. "It wasn't about race,” he says quietly, “we had common ground."

Ivana reports that she "cried every day. One of the guys we met, Frances, came every single day at the same time. After he comes from work and picks up his son. In that cold, they would knock to see if we're good, if we need any food. And for Valentine's, the little boy brought me flowers."

She recorded numerous videos because, she says, "everything was worth documenting." In one, that father-and-son team sort through a large shopping bag and portable cooler resting on the ground. It's nearly 8 pm. The boy, who appears to be about six, is wearing a knit hat with a red maple leaf. He scrambles up, onto the step of their truck, handing them sandwiches before his father straightens and approaches the truck window.

In perfect English, but with a pronounced French accent, the dad says "I got one mixed veggie bag left, and I got some ranch dip. Orange?" When they decline, explaining they've eaten plenty already, he smiles and nods, "Thank you very much for being here, have a great evening."

In another video, a dozen men huddle in a tight circle like a sports team. After they break apart, O'Jay shakes hands with several of them, who also shake hands with each other. He'd been working on his truck, he explains, when a stranger asked if he was OK. Did he need a hug? "When I went for the hug, some people were passing, saw what was happening and joined in." These were all strangers, "absolute strangers."

A third video reveals what happened when a masked individual, along with a cameraman and a soundman, came to O'Jay's window four days after the truckers began arriving in Ottawa. He was with CBC, he said, "We're checking in with folks in the protest."

For six solid minutes, O'Jay was peppered with questions. What needed to happen "to wrap things up?...I'm guessing you're not vaccinated?...The mayor says it costs about $800k a day for the policing costs. What do you think of that?"

Couldn't O'Jay just work within Canada? Did he feel some of the GoFundMe money donated to the truckers to cover their fuel and other expenses "should go to help pay for the policing?" Did he think "any of it should go to the businesses that are closed and say they can't operate right now?" (How would it have been ethical to redirect funds people had donated for one purpose to another purpose altogether?)

Interview with unidentified CBC reporter. Screen capture from a video recorded by Ivana.

When the reporter tells O'Jay the GoFundMe total "is getting pretty close to $10 million," he responds, "Really? I stopped checking when it was $6 million. It really doesn't matter. I was prepared to come here with my last" dollar. The protest is about principles, he says. No one should "even think they have the power to tell me what to put in my body. That is 100% unequivocally false. I don't know where they get that from. I own my body, it was given to me by the Almighty."

The video ends with O'Jay telling Ivana to "cut the camera." He tried to quietly reason with the reporter after that, he says. "I'm like, 'I'm asking you as a person, not as a reporter, does this make any sense to you?'" He suspects the man privately agreed with him on at least some issues.

Ivana smiles, "I thought it was such a nice interview. I'm like, oh my God. OK, when people see this, they're gonna see what's up. No, they showed three seconds. They were commenting about something, talking about Ottawa. And then they showed his face. The only thing O'Jay says is, "I don't care." She laughs at the absurdity, "That's the only thing that was shown. Just, 'I don't care.' Horrible."

O'Jay had explained that quarantining for fourteen days every time he crossed the border "doesn't make any sense" two years into the pandemic. He'd wondered why there was so much concern about police budgets and businesses that appeared to be choosing to remain closed - yet no sympathy for drivers unable to make truck payments due to illogical government policy.

He'd explained that domestic trucking was financially less viable due to skyrocketing fuel prices, low rates of pay, and the sudden abundance of displaced drivers. "I'd prefer to be working, but I can't. So the only thing that's left is to make a stand for my family and the kids."

The CBC says it exists to tell Canada's stories - to help people in different parts of the country understand each other. Had its viewers heard O'Jay explain his perspective firsthand in his pleasant Caribbean accent they would have been less likely to believe what politicians were saying about the protest.

Instead, it erased him. As history was being made, Canada's public broadcaster denied him a seat at the table, a voice in the conversation.

continues Friday