November 14, 2020
Last Saturday was a spectacular day, amid a year that’s truly sucked like few in recent history. The centrepiece was an outing to Dundas Valley Conservation Area, where we celebrated our niece’s birthday with a nice hike. We stopped several times, to take a good look at Tews Falls and then at the Town of Dundas below us. Then the five of us – including our daughter and our niece’s boyfriend – enjoyed a delicious charcuterie-based lunch. The temperature was an unseasonable 22 degrees Celsius, allowing us to go jacket-free and sit on blankets laid out on the grass.
The hike had barely started when my buddy from work texted me two messages in quick succession: “Biden wins!” and “273.” The first message is self-explanatory while the second shows three more than the number of electoral college votes required to boost Joe Biden from candidate to President-elect of the United States. Four days of highly contentious vote counting had evidently produced a winner.
I was immediately as ecstatic as he was and blurted out the news. We’re both long haul truck drivers who spend two-thirds of each week on the highways and byways of the States. We’ve talked often about our strong dislike – to put it extremely mildly – for Donald Trump. Now we got to share in the revelry of him losing the election. I checked Facebook and more than a few friends took time out of their Saturday afternoon to share their cheer at the news.
Later, That Evening
My wife and I had no special plans for the evening. We sat down after dinner and I turned on the news. We settled for the Canadian angle on CBC. It was announced that Biden and his Vice President-elect Kamala Harris were both going to speak at an impromptu celebration in Biden’s hometown of Wilmington, Delaware. We decided this would be more intriguing than anything else we could watch so we followed the motorcade procession of the next President and VP.
We saw the glorious reaction of the growing crowd: people singing, dancing and cheering. Live footage also showed crowds growing, in size and spirit, in cities around the country. Spontaneous street parties of mask-wearing Americans were breaking out on many fronts, including in New York City, Philadelphia and Atlanta.
Soon, Biden walked on the stage with Bruce Springsteen’s “We Take Care Of Our Own” playing in the background. (That gets bonus points from me.) He shared the stage equally in celebration with VP-elect Kamala Harris. He proceeded to elevate and thank his wife and family, and elevated people of diverse backgrounds, reached out to Trump voters, outlined his immediate plans for dealing with the pandemic, and spoke graciously and faithfully about a bright future for America. Then his entire family came on stage and was joined by Kamala Harris’ family.
A Different Feeling
Suddenly, America felt like a different nation. A massive mood lightening had seemingly begun. There were unmistakable displays of hope, unity, healing, and happiness. At least that’s what was happening on TV.
Meanwhile, in many other places stateside, there was rabid bitterness and outright denial of the validity of the result. I’d heard this for three days already, before Biden’s victory was made official. Many of the upset folks live in the states where I spend the most time, North and South Carolina. Both voted for Trump, just like they did in 2016.
I thought about my response to these millions of people, and how I disagreed vehemently with their opinions throughout the last four years. I understand that they don’t like – or hate or won’t accept – the result. I’ll work to respect their viewpoint and try to understand their rationale. It’s their election, after all, and I’m just an onlooker.
Yet I’m an onlooker who spends an awful lot of time in the U.S. And I’m a Canadian who feels that my country had a lot at stake here. Since 2016, we have continued to behave congenially toward our southern neighbour. We’ve been the stable gracious beaver, trying to pleasantly work out a new trade agreement. Meanwhile America went from stalwart elephant to unpredictable, irascible – and damn near moronic – elephant, accusing us of unfair dealing, slapping unjustified tariffs on us and forcing us to reciprocate in like.
This past week, as I drove like usual down I-79, I tried to gauge whether America actually feels different now. Honestly, I can’t say. But in my heart, I have a more positive sense about the country’s future. And I have hope. Hope may not be everything, but for the moment it’s remarkable. In the year of COVID-19, on the heels of nearly 1,500 days of rabid Trumpism, it’s enough for now.