sa国际传媒

Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Jack Knox: On eve of election, our political barometer offers a reality check

When we last heard from Andrea Merrick, in 2019, she was feeling a bit queasy. Not about the impending federal election, but because she had morning sickness, was about to become a mom. Fast forward two years.
TC_358333_web_VKA-election-3202191513440455.jpg
Andrea Merrick, with daughter Olive and dog Molly: "The majority of people care about the majority of things." ADRIAN LAM, TIMES COLONIST

When we last heard from Andrea Merrick, in 2019, she was feeling a bit queasy. Not about the impending federal election, but because she had morning sickness, was about to become a mom.

Fast forward two years. Merrick is trying to clean her Langford kitchen while Olive, 1 1/2, scoots around her feet. If you want a new perspective, try having a baby while renovating a house just as the world gets clobbered by a pandemic.

Though, other than that, the 36-year-old hasn鈥檛 seen a big change between the last election and this one 鈥 except in one disturbing way.

Merrick is our political barometer. She first appeared in this space just before the 2004 federal election, when she was a 19-year-old working at Daly鈥檚 Auto Centre in her hometown of Youbou, on Cowichan Lake. As such, she typified the young and the rural, two groups traditionally ignored during campaigns.

We鈥檝e been using her as a reality check ever since, ducking in at election time to see how her concerns match up with those of the candidates. We have followed her to Camosun College, UVic, a job as a registered nurse at the Duncan hospital and, now, a post as a public health nurse. We have seen her go from her family home in Youbou to a Victoria condo, to a place she bought with her partner 鈥 a guy she met in nursing school 鈥 to that house they鈥檙e renovating in Langford.

What鈥檚 on her mind this time? Same stuff as before: the environment, transparency in government, politicians who will listen to Indigenous voices (鈥淚t means so much to so many people where we live鈥). If she鈥檚 less worried about health care as a campaign issue this time, it鈥檚 only because the pandemic has made all the major parties acknowledge how vital the system is to our collective well-being.

Still, as a health professional it鈥檚 frustrating to hear candidates who balk at vaccination measures. The consequences of that are real. On the day we speak, someone Merrick knows, an unvaccinated man, is to be put on life support after contracting COVID-19. 鈥淚t鈥檚 happening to people we know,鈥 she says.

Vaccines as a campaign issue are new for 2021. So is the aforementioned disturbing trend: a more strident, divisive, uncompromising tone on the campaign trail. 鈥淓verybody is so 鈥榶ou鈥檙e with us, or you鈥檙e against us,鈥 鈥 Merrick says.

Parties co-opt issues 鈥 climate change, reconciliation, whatever 鈥 as their own, as though they鈥檙e the only ones who understand or care about them, and dismiss their opponents鈥 views with contempt. It has always been that way to a certain degree, Merrick says, but this year it鈥檚 more pronounced.

Maybe that reflects hyper-partisan U.S. politics drifting north, or maybe it reflects the frayed-nerves snarling of the pandemic, but she doesn鈥檛 like it. It dismays her when platitude- and buzzword-spouting politicians try to stake out territory and declare a moral monopoly on issues. 鈥淭he majority of people care about the majority of things,鈥 Merrick says.

Concerns about the tone of the campaign have been a common theme. In recent weeks I poked around Vancouver Island, stopping people at random to ask what matter to them in this campaign. One of the more frequent, surprising, and less-tangible replies had to do with how Canadians, and those who would lead them, behave as human beings.

鈥淚t鈥檚 a crying shame we are in many ways cruel to each other,鈥 said octogenarian Frank Bukovac when I buttonholed him outside Courtenay鈥檚 London Drugs store. 鈥淲e have so much in this world to be grateful for, but we treat each other as 鈥 pardon me 鈥 pieces of s鈥-.鈥

Variations of the same worry came from Port McNeill to Nanaimo, to Victoria, to Saturna Island. The intolerance of the self-righteous, not to mention the menacing bellicosity of an emboldened fringe, bothers people.

One of my favourite encounters came in the Cowichan Valley when I stumbled across Ruth Rutledge and Ric Tell about to take their two-person shell onto Quamichan Lake. They鈥檙e in sync when it comes to rowing, but not politics. He tilts one way, she another, which makes for some interesting conversations on the water.

鈥淚t kind of ruins the row, being hectored from the back seat,鈥 Tell said.

鈥淭he bow seat runs the boat,鈥 Rutledge replied.

They disagree in a good-natured, respectful way, which is as it should be. They reflected the sa国际传媒 in which you would want your child to grow up.

[email protected]