Over the course of the last five years I’ve undergone an ideological journey.
I used to vilify those on the right, and I believe the left still does.
They consider the right, evil.
Growing up my parents always voted conservative, as did the parents of friends who emigrated to Canada.
There is good reason for this.
They arrived in Canada with a really strong work ethic, with hopes and dreams of succeeding.
They were often treated poorly by Canadians. My father has really awful stories, that scarred him, because he was brown, and because he did not speak English.
But what did he do? Did he cry? No. Did he buckle? No. Did he ask the government, or anyone else to come in and save or help him? No.
He went to work. He learned the language.
The immigrants of my father’s generation believed in working their asses off. My friend’s dad was a mechanic, her mother, a secretary. When she went to McGill University she was surrounded by wealth.
When she told her peers what her parents did, they looked down on her.
As they did me.
It took me a long time to be comfortable with telling people that my dad was a barber.
Because I was made to feel as though he was less than those who had money.
It is for reasons like this that my parents voted conservative. They were treated like garbage by people who called themselves liberal.
Look at how the left treated Trump supporters. That’s a clear indication of the left’s lack of compassion and empathy for people whose lives they know nothing about, and have no interest in learning anything about.
Why? Because to the left, they are poor white trash. They are no better than vermin.
The left has had to create these myths that everyone who is white is at an advantage, regardless of their socio-economic history; whether or not they are immigrants.
It took me a long time to understand my parents’ point of view.
Like Margaret Thatcher, whose father was a grocer, they believed in the individual. They didn’t believe in identifying with a group.
Immigrants like my friend’s parents for example: they worked for every property they now own. Every single penny — they earned. No one gave them anything.
So when they see Canadians going on welfare, EI, asking for handouts, claiming victim status, they don’t understand them.
Because my parents and those like them, were real victims. They grew up in abject poverty. They didn’t finish high school because they had to get to work. But they never let all that get them down.
Now in my 40s I see all of this more clearly than I did when I was in an ideological cloud. When I thought my beliefs were superior to conservatives.
I know now that is not true.
And the funny thing is, that it was all in front of me the whole time. The humble beginnings, the fear of poverty. The belief in the power of one individual overcoming overwhelming obstacles through sheer grit and determination.
I’m only sorry that it took me so long to come to my senses.