My ancestors arrived in what is now called Canada seeking refuge at the turn of the 19th century. They came by boat from Scotland on my mother's side, by horse and wagon from Pennsylvania on my father's. They found what they were looking for -- peace, home, a place to build community with friends and family. In these Covid times I am more aware than ever of the privileges of living where fear of loss of all that matters most to me so seldom arises. Canada Day is a reminder of all that I have to celebrate, that I never want to take for granted. It is also a reminder that I live on stolen land and that institutional racism arrived here with the first Europeans. And persists. Much to celebrate. And much to consider.
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