I'm Not the Same Girl
The Freedom Convoy story is about ordinary people who did extraordinary things. (final installment of Bianca's story)
Part 1: The Hope and the Light
More than two years after the trucker protest ended, Bianca says the COVID era was clarifying. "It opened my mind to what we need to do - and what we don't need to do." In her view, childhoods are precious and fleeting. Society should have gone to greater lengths, she feels, to insulate children from pandemic panic and fear. "The kids don't need that. They just need to be kids."
These days, her child-rearing philosophy emphasizes self-reliance. "If you don't have Internet, if you don't have a cellphone or a tablet are you OK in the world?" she asks her two sons. What if there was an explosion and no one could consult the Internet? How many people would know what to do?
"We like to go camping with nothing," she explains. "With just the car and the tent. If you want to eat, I have propane. But I want you to know how to make fire."
"I'm not the same girl," she says emphatically. Where once she was bashful, now she's more likely to step forward. "It's really different. Now if it's No, it's No," she shrugs. "If it's Yes, it's Yes."
In her children's video games, she says, there are non-player characters - NPCs - passive, one-dimensional background characters who have no agency, no adventures of their own. "Now I see this in the real world."
In some ways, she feels she herself has transitioned from an NPC to a fully-fledged human being. "The Convoy, it's a beautiful thing. Now, maybe I'm an adult."
Whenever life becomes difficult, she says, "this time, it's OK. I have a little spark inside. We have light and hope, I see this."
Other than a brief conversation with TVA - a Quebec, French-language television station - Bianca says no one from the media spoke to her.
How do we explain this profound lack of curiosity? A young mother inflated bouncy castles that were wholly impossible to miss. Mere steps from the National Press Building. Two weekends in a row. (Smaller inflatables sometimes put in an appearance mid-week.) Â
Several journalists commented on the bouncy castles. But no one reported Bianca's story. No one tried to understand.
Online, people cheered - and jeered at the drama queen politicians. A woman from Ontario posted photos of her son. Having "spent the vast majority of his young life in lockdown," she said, "he was excited to see the maskless, friendly faces and play on the bouncy castle. Thank you #truckers," she continued, "for giving him some semblance of normalcy." (That tweet and others mentioned below are collected here).
Many people instantly grasped the outsized, symbolic significance of the inflatables. "I will never get tired of seeing videos with the bouncy castles in them," one person tweeted. "It just crumbles the false narrative..."
But "the mainstream media told us the trucker rally was all hate and violence," someone else pointed out facetiously, while another chimed in: "Those fringe extremists ruining Canada with their happiness and joy."
If the flag of Canada is ever changed, still another added, the maple leaf should be replaced with a red bouncy castle.
"I absolutely love the tactic" (italics here and below by me), someone else tweeted. "It's peaceful, family oriented, and gives the Politicians the finger at the same time. Mayor Watson was near tears on CTV today."
Many people - both sympathetic and hostile to the protest - talked about the bouncy castles as if they were part of a pre-determined plan, dreamt up by a mastermind. According to one individual, the "bouncy castle is probably one of the greatest strategic moves against any government lusting for violence in the history of war strategies."
Another described the inflatables as "one of the finest information warfare tactics I've seen to date." In the opinion of someone else, "The bouncy castles are the unsung heroes of the protest. The government doesn't dare send in the tanks or snipers while children are playing in bouncy castles. The optics would be horrific."
Thomas Juneau, a University of Ottawa professor who specializes in Middle Eastern politics, confidently told the world: "Just to be clear, the bouncy castle was an info op, and more than a few gullible commentators fell for it." In the universe inhabited by our pompous professor, no evidence is actually required. According to someone else, the presence of bouncy castles pointed to "a sophistication of terrorists."
On the Monday following the first bouncy castle weekend, someone said the inflatables had disappeared because the "bouncy castle guy" had to report to work. Ten days later, someone else claimed the bouncy castle (singular) had exited the stage because those responsible "are hoping to get their deposit back on it so they can afford the bus fare back to Alberta."
But the facts in this matter are straightforward. The Freedom Convoy story is about ordinary people who did extraordinary things. Bianca of the Bouncy Castles was one of those people. A mom who cared about the kids. A resident of Quebec who lived three hours distant. An event planner who knows how to make things happen.
There's nothing covert or complicated here. Sometimes, a bouncy castle is just a bouncy castle.
Fabulous Donna, and thank you again for telling the real stories. For me, and for all the others who had their eyes opened and 'grew up", the line in the sand is omnipresent and the gearing up of our spirits for another battle, anticipated with zeal.