You might think that what has happened is the worst thing ever.
You’d be wrong.
Don’t get me wrong, what happened was terrible, and is a tragedy, and should never have happened.
There are nine people who—one month and ten days ago—were part of this community who are no longer. One of those nine was the reason for the tragedy.
And if that person had just decided to shoot themselves? It would have been terrible enough. But they took with them their mother, half-brother, a teacher’s assistant and five students from Tumbler Ridge Secondary School whose names will forever be imprinted on our hearts and minds: Abel, Ezekiel, Tiki, Zoey, Kylie.
Two others—Paige and Maya—were wounded. Maya is still in the hospital; conscious, but unable to communicate other than with a pair of yes/no paddles that she can look at to answer simple questions.
The pain was—is—felt around the globe. Never mind that Abel is a Zambian National, his father in town to work at the mine.
Even now, the newspaper Facebook page get dozens of comments a day on posts about Maya from people across the country and around the world.
“So glad she is doing well. One day at a time. You got this Maya. Prayers for you and your family everyday,” says one.
“So awesome to see Maya getting stronger everyday!! Sunshine is so good for healing and feel good vibes!! Rooting for your continued recovery from Michigan!!” says another.
And you know when you are in the thoughts of people from Michigan, the tragedy must be great indeed.
I still find myself starting to cry when I think about what happened.
So, yes, losing these lives—those children—in this manner? Was horrendous. It is impossible to put into mere words the scope of the pain and sorrow this community still bears.
But worse than what happened here is to have experienced this, and be changed for the worse.
It would be worse to come out of this hating whomever it is you think is to blame. The trans or the Muslims (really? yes, really. Someone posted an anti-Muslim screed on one of my posts about what happened here) or the pro-gun lobby or the anti-gun lobby or the politicians or the RCMP or the mother or the father or the AI company or social media or the parents or even the shooting.
If we allow ourself to become bitter, cynical and hateful? That would be far worse.
It’s going to be hard to not let this change us for the worse in some way.
In the days after the shooting, I got many emails from other reporters across the country, many who had dealt with situations like this.
One of those emails came from the former editor of the Fort McMurray Today.
“I was with Fort McMurray Today as a reporter during the 2016 wildfire,” he says. “I am reaching out because I have been thinking about the aftermath of the wildfire. There was a lot of ‘Fort Mac Strong’ and talks about getting through it together.
“But domestic violence rates soared, people got screwed by builders and insurance providers, and I know a few people who left. The burnout from firefighters and police officers was through the roof.
“I admit the site of wildfire smoke on the horizon still makes me nervous, and I drank much more than I should have that summer.
“A lot of the community rallied and came together, but a lot of people were not OK.
“The next few months will be hard. Anniversaries for years will be hard. I’ve been through this, it’s rough.
“There will be moments when it will look like the community is tearing itself apart. There will be people who are angry and defeatist.
“You must not let these moments define the community or your neighbours. Remember who they are. Remember who you are. I remember feeling ashamed to slow down; you must not let this happen to you.
“As one community-minded journalist to another, I am cheering for you. I am cheering for Tumbler Ridge.”
That’s from someone who has watched a town go through a tragedy, and saw it come out the other side changed for the worse.
If the good Lord could grant me one wish, it would be that we would come through this better people.
That we would come out of this with more love for our fellow humans, not less. That we would extend grace more quickly and more deeply than we have before. That we would put ourselves in other’s shoes before casting judgment.
We’ve seen it go the other way. After the shooting, anti-trans messaging spiked, both in the states and, unfortunately, in Canada, too.
According to the American Journal for Public Health, transgender people experience 86.2 victimizations per 1000 persons compared with cisgender people’s 21.7 per 1000 persons.
Meanwhile, mass shootings by trans people make up less than one percent of the shootings that occur in the states. We blame the victims then wonder why they lash out. Perhaps if we treated humans—all humans, red, yellow, black, white, trans, gay, liberal or conservative—as people struggling to make it in this messed up world as opposed to something “other” that must be opposed, there would be less hate, more understanding and more resources put towards helping others as opposed to figuring out new ways to kill the other, the world might be a better place. This is not a new message, nor is it unique. But it is hard. So much easier to write people off, to slap a label on them.
On the latest U2 album, Bono sings: “The worst can’t kill what’s best in us, but they can try.”
We have seen the worst that humanity can offer. Let us respond not with hate, but with love, with kindness, with gentleness. Let us band together as a community and support and protect everyone equally. Because if we don’t, then who will?
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.
