I have been rewriting this post, all week, not finding the right words to express how I feel deep inside. Part rage, part deception at our human condition, the events that took place in France last week will leave an indelible mark on my brain for the rest of my life. You know how your parents remember where there they were when President Kennedy was assassinated or how you will forever remember where you were on September 11th 2001, well I was in my car on Wednesday January 7th when I first heard of the attack on Charlie Hebdo.
I was born in the free country that is Canada. I have never known war first hand. I have always been able to say whatever I wanted, without being censored. But then, well over a dozen men and women lost then lives, in the first attack and subsequent hostages situations, and I have come to question the nature of what we accept as freedom.
I am a seventies baby, a blue blood peace and love child. My parents have always spoken their minds and taught me to do the same, and it comes to no surprise then that I have chosen to curate a blog and to work for media outlets as my professional calling.
Of course, home decor and testimonials of my family’s trials and tribulations isn’t scandalous material, but nonetheless, the fact that I have a platform on which to do it freely is in part thanks to pioneers that fought for freedom of speech in their own times. Yes, the illustrators of Charlie Hebdo were controversial, that was their modus operandi. They challenged our comfortable and non-threatening positions and world views, one caricature at a time.
So, as I still feel sick to my stomach, unable to understand the monstrosity of Man, I thank them for paving the way for what has made all of our lives richer, with the choice to speak our own minds.
And you know what… Je suis Charlie!
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