This week marked the departure of another elected official, not in the warm glow of a well-earned retirement, but deeply shadowed by the spectre of racism and bias against the homeless.
Perry Trimper, now the outgoing MHA for Lake Melville instead of the incumbent candidate for the next provincial election, had commented on a story about a homeless Inuk man, saying homeless people were “choosing” a risky lifestyle.
It was not the first time Trimper had made negative comments about the people who are part of his constituency and his region. In September 2019, Trimper resigned from cabinet after he inadvertently left a voice recording in which he said the Innu were playing the race card.
Trimper apologized both times, but in these instances apologies aren’t enough. We don't know if Trimper undertook sensitivity training after that first incident; however, the public discussion which followed should have guided him on the importance of being mindful about biases and assumptions.
The fact is, Trimper represented a region with diverse Indigenous groups, settlers and new immigrants. In the last 10 years or more, we have had extensive coverage of issues and concerns for Inuit and Innu regarding residential schools, benefits agreements, resource developments, land claims negotiations, foreign worker programs and so on.
Up until 2005, I had never set foot in Labrador. Since then I have visited the region at least once a year, and on occasion at least two or three times, including one memorable stretch where I unsuccessfully tried to visit communities on the coast but failed due to temperamental weather.
It’s natural to mess up. It’s part of how we learn. But you have to move forward.
It is a complex, challenging, and incredibly beautiful place. Every time I go I learn something new. Not just as facts, but as biases I need to unlearn, attitudes I need to change or adjust, recognizing the power imbalances and privilege at play, and accepting new ways of working together, as it is with work I have done with people who live with mental illness and addictions.
If you are an MHA, by default your role requires you to listen and learn about the people and issues in your district. If your party forms the leadership of the provincial government, then you also work on behalf of the whole province, not just the parts that elected you.
If you encounter situations that are not part of your own lived experience, you should make it your responsibility to listen, learn, understand and grow. When you get called out, you need to sit with it, or to quote my favourite president these days, “Just stand there in your wrongness and be wrong and get used to it.”
Sadly, many people do not sit with it. They do not learn. They do not change. It’s natural to mess up. It’s part of how we learn. But you have to move forward.
I had a great chat with my child once about redemption. We were talking about a character on a TV show who took steps to correct the mistakes he had made. The steps, though, were behind the scenes — no one knew that he had done this work. Could we say he had been redeemed? We eventually concluded that yes, in his eyes, but the absence of public disclosure meant others did not know, and therefore they could draw different conclusions.
I don't expect public disclosure, but I do expect people to demonstrate how they have learned and how they have changed their behaviour. Actions do speak louder than words, and we can no longer accept empty apologies as enough.
Martha Muzychka is a writer and consultant living in St. John’s. Email [email protected]
