Why I Stopped Reading the News, and Why I Started Again

When the protest at Standing Rock happened over the North Dakota Access Pipeline being run through traditional Sioux territory, I cried everyday. I’m a highly sensitive and sensitized human being on a good day, but something about that conflict grabbed onto my heart and wouldn’t let go. Perhaps it was the injustice of it; perhaps it was the way it was so conspicuously omitted from the nightly news, in spite of regular updates from independent news sources and people who were there; perhaps it was the sharp contrast between the police in riot gear and armoured vehicles, throwing tear gas into crowds of people who were literally throwing back prayers; whatever it was, I couldn’t stop myself from consuming every live video and news snippet that I came across. Standing Rock was tragic because it showed that the politics of colonialism are alive and well, and little has changed in spite of PC language and posturing from those in power. It showed that history repeats itself, and history is filled with tales of greed and total lack of concern for future generations. It showed that voices of balance and respect for the sacredness of the natural world are still silenced by wealthy men with iron fists. It showed that we as a society seem to be hopelessly and irreparably divided down ideological lines, so much so that we are incapable of finding solutions to the issues that are quite literally killing the planet that we inhabit.

Perhaps news outlets can’t be altogether blamed for not emphasizing the conflict, after all, a much more pressing one was happening that fall of 2016, namely, who was to be the next president of the United States. I looked at those two candidates and breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t an American, being forced to choose between a she-devil or a he-devil, one who would simply maintain the bloody and oppressive regime that the United States government has become, and the other who offered real change in the very worst direction possible. How could such a bright and powerful nation who had modeled themselves on liberty, equality and one nation under God have come to such a desperate and impossible place?

The polarity of debate was exhausting, both sides so deeply pitted against the other, rage drunk, pride blind, every moderate voice in the arena having been swept away months before. Social media was toxic; nothing but Trump memes. Everyone convinced that their side was right; very few people asking, how did we get here?

It was at this time that I decided to stop listening to the news. I stopped reading the paper, gave up on staying informed. I could no longer hear truth over the cacophony of angry voices, so I decided to wash my hands of it. It no longer served me. And so I’ve lived for the past three years, catching up about once a month on the very essential. Brexit? I took in the minimum. The Trudeau/ SNC-Lavalin scandal? Barely a blip on my radar. US government shut down? My 15 year old niece filled me in. I took time to read more history and literature, but mostly I took the time to just think my own thoughts; to walk out into the day and see that, in my immediate surroundings, other than the rare occasion, things are predominantly peaceful. I got the chance to really reflect on how lucky I am to be a Montrealer, to live in a safe city, in a safe country, where I have the right to be whoever I want to be. There is no repressive regime impinging on my freedom; healthcare is flawed, but accessible, same with education. I got to look at the world in a non-partisan light, and it was essential to my mental and emotional well-being.

But now it’s 2019. The world has been steadily unravelling, much like it was back in 2016. Our children are facing, not just a grim environmental future, but a grim environmental present. Everyone is dying of cancer. The air is toxic, the water is toxic, our food is toxic. Our oceans flow with plastic, our forests are ablaze. We have simultaneously, unwittingly inherited this mess, and consciously allowed it to continue with our voracious appetite for all things cheap, fast and new. I look at my kids with their entire lives ahead of them and wonder what the hell they’re going to do. What are we going to do? How do we face and transcend this dire reality?

It is for precisely this reason that I have started reading the news again; the only way out of this mess is through. The only way to enact change is to engage in a conscientious and dare I suggest, apolitical way. The only way to challenge the starkly drawn political lines is to understand them so that they can be redefined. I don’t deny that governments have incredible power in defining the lives of their populous, but it is a copout to say that all of our problems are political. The onus is on the individual to address how she or he chooses to live her daily life; how and what she consumes; how she engages in her relationships and community; how she paves the way for the future. Reading the news for real means reading content from a variety of sources with EMPATHY, even if they do not match our political views. EMPATHY does not mean that I agree, it means that I hear your humanity and understand why you feel how you feel and think what you think. Empathy is not a wishy-washy ideal; it is the only true and lasting path to change that benefits the masses; empathy is the precursor to integrity; it is the only quality that can infuse our politics with any value. PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE DIFFERENTLY FROM YOU ARE NOT GARBAGE. Please, if you take away anything from what I’ve said, let it be that.

Nothing is black or white; every conversation has nuance that we must be willing to engage in if we are to see clearly. Outcomes are not certainties arrived at upon linear lines; they are complex processes that shift, align and realign depending on where we focus. Just as I was struck by the tragedy and seeming hopelessness of Standing Rock, so was I struck by its incredible beauty and power, and the amazing things that can happen when people unite forces for purposes other than money. It showed me that there have been and still are people in the world that honour the planet and stand up to injustice like David to Goliath, even in the face of such an insurmountable foe. It showed me that solutions arise when we connect, and that desensitization is really a process of disconnecting from what truly matters. It showed me that small hands, my small hands, your small hands, our small hands create bridges, sanctuaries, and lines of defense against the encroaching darkness when they join together. I cannot connect to this possibility if I do not constructively connect to what is currently happening. So I have, somewhat begrudgingly, returned to reading the news across platforms, in a way that allows the urgency of it all to touch my tired heart; because I know in my core that, no matter how tired my heart might be, it must do what the heart was created to do: connect to the world around it, even if it breaks.