Category Archives: Lifestyle (MC Archive)

Lifestyle-related columns that appeared on Jason Menard’s previous Web site, Menard Communications.

Don’t Give Bikers Ticket to Ride

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By Jason Menard

Remember this name: Daniel Desrochers. By remembering little Daniel today and maybe we won’t have to remember another name closer to home in the near future.

The recent massacre in the Shedden area points to an escalation of biker gang violence in the area. And while many will point to the fact that it appears to be nothing more than bikers killing other bikers so why not leave well enough alone, I again turn to little Daniel.

On Aug. 9, 1995, Daniel was riding his bike in the Hochelaga-Maissoneuve area of Montreal, in the city’s east-end, shortly after noon. As he was riding, a curbside Jeep exploded. The driver, Marc Dubé, a presumed drug runner, was killed instantly.

If it was just Dubé, the story would have died. But Desrochers was riddled with shrapnel from the explosion. He lay in a coma for four days, finally succumbing to his injuries. Almost 10 years later, his mother, Josée-Anne passed away from pneumonia, having fought against bikers since her son’s death. She went to her grave never knowing the identity of her son’s killers.

Until that point Montrealers passed off the not-so-random violence as an accepted part of the Biker War. As long as the Hell’s Angels and the Rock Machine (the two dominant biker gangs at the time) were content to restrict their battles to their own turf, it was nothing more than tabloid fodder for the population at large. Certain publications made their living on the salacious activities that these bikers engaged in. Maurice “Mom” Boucher, the Hell’s leader, became a celebrity in his own right during the time.

That was until Daniel Desrochers.

Reports of the Shedden massacre have included commentary from the locals about how pleasant and well-mannered the bikers in the area were. It’s the same refrain we hear over and over from people living in these areas. And then we wonder why some children grow up to emulate these larger-than-life individuals whose legal transgressions seem only to be an extra bit of flavour on their persona. In less-than-affluent areas, joining these gangs appears to be an accepted way to immediately command respect, earn money, and live above the law.

The fact is bikers are well mannered. Early on, my wife and I lived in an area of Montreal that was just a couple of blocks north of the Rock Machine headquarters. We would walk past their bunker on our way to catching the weekly fireworks at the bank of the St. Lawrence. We drove past their businesses on our way to work. And we never saw hide nor hair of a biker in the year that we were there. The bunker, with its fortifications in front and array of strategically positioned video cameras, was more of a conversation piece than anything else.

That is, until that morning when we were awakened by helicopters and police cars racing down our narrow street to raid the headquarters as part of Quebec’s Operation Wolverine. And turning on the TV that night we heard the same comments from our neighbours: “they were so polite, they never caused any trouble in this area.” Now, driving past the old homestead, the entire area has been demolished, leaving an empty lot. The death and destruction perpetrated by these bikers has given way for a new future. The presence of the Rock Machine in that area is left only in the memories of those who lived there. But still the battle rages on, in Montreal, in Toronto, and right here in Southwestern Ontario.

Turning a blind eye doesn’t work. The fact is that drugs do exist. There is prostitution, there are illegal guns being traded, and someone is looking to make a profit. In this country, the biker gangs are the ones at the forefront of these black-market industries. And, occasionally, there will be turf wars as greed and lust for power grow.

Generally, they keep their battles to themselves. But are we willing to sacrifice our own Daniel Desrochers to the cause before we act? What will it take for us to raise our voices and demand our government and police act against these outlaw gangs?

Bikers may be respectful, they may be polite, they may be fine members of your community, but in the end some bikers are simply criminals whose concern for your well-being extends only as far as their wallet. They’ve proven that if your child can be sacrificed for a greater stake in the lucrative drug trade, then it’s a trade-off they’re willing to make.

The question is, are you?

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Activists Obscure Truth in Seal Hunt, Natural Order

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By Jason Menard

I admire the tenacity of those PETA people, I truly do. But there comes a time and place where we need to learn to pick our battles. Nature’s a cruel mistress, and no amount of cajoling or grandstanding is going to make her change her mind – but in this new world, the key to survival isn’t related to brain-power, but how cute you look.

So Brigitte Bardot can grace us with her presence, she can stand before the horrifying image of a human baby lying dead on the ice, with a seal poised to deliver yet another blow with a club. Unfortunately, Bardot, Paul McCartney and a significant number of these well-meaning (I hope) animal-rights activist are being deliberately misleading in their commentary. And isn’t it interesting that a former bombshell and the one known as “the cute Beatle” are the ones lending their image to this fight.

In today’s world we’ve usurped natural Darwinism and replaced it with a more cosmetic version. And the images just obscure the issues.

Do a quick search on-line for anything relating to Canada’s annual seal hunt and you’ll be peppered with sites showing images of dewy-eyed baby seal pups, looking forlornly at the camera, with the implicit knowledge that some big, bad hunter is just waiting in the wings with a club ready to crush its little brains in.

Sorry, that’s just not the case. In fact, it’s illegal to hunt any seal that has yet to shed its newborn pelt. So that fluffy little cute seal we see is just fine.

Now, how about those ugly looking tuna? Nobody’s rushing to their rescue. We’ve accepted the fact that humans need to eat – although this logic doesn’t seem to matter to those opposing native seal-hunting rights, but I digress – and because tuna are big and ugly, we rarely see aging Brit-Poppers hanging out at the Star-Kist plant posing next to an image of an oppressed Charlie the Tuna.

But the dolphins that get caught in those nets that’s another story. We can’t kill the cute little dolphins – why, you may get Flipper! Yet, where’s the outrage over the loss of coral or pikas, both of which are on the World Wildlife Funds’ endangered species list? They don’t make for quite as appealing ad copy as baby snow leopards or orphaned pandas. Cows, pigs, and chickens are staples of our diet – but why do their lives deserve any less consideration than seals? Who is the final arbiter as to which animal gets to live and which is classified as livestock?

I really don’t know enough about seal hunting to know whether or not it’s something that should be supported. As someone who loves to tuck into a good steak, eats a heck of a lot of chicken, and enjoys the bounty of pork products that exist, I don’t feel I have the right to stand on a pulpit and pick and choose which animals are above becoming a meal or a jacket.

And, when statistics say that the seal population, despite the annual hunt, is flourishing, it’s hard for me to say that this practice is having a negative impact on the ecosystem. After all, it’s not like seals are in the predicament of African elephants, being killed simply for their tusks. These are animals that are, in many cases, being used as a significant source of the local economy and diet. This isn’t pleasure killing, this is nature at its base essence.

But the problem with this type of emotional advertising and grandstanding from activists like McCartney, Bardot – heck, even Pamela Anderson, is that the issue gets obscured by the image. While it’s effective in swaying those who only look at the surface of the issue, where is the open discussion for those willing to look at both sides of the story? Where are the facts, not just the emotions?

Baby seals photograph better than hunters (most of whom use guns, not clubs – but clubs make for more savage imagery), but where are the images of the native hunter bringing home food for the family. Or where’s the picture of the outpost fishing village whose very livelihood rests upon the continuance of the seal hunt?

The world has always been about predators and prey. Not to go all Lion King here, but there is a circle of life at play, wherein animals and nature work symbiotically to maintain a balance. Just as deforestation, global warming, and hunting for profit can irreparably damage nature’s precarious order, could not overprotecting animals have the same sort of effect?

For the average person who just wants to do right by the world, the answers aren’t evident. And, unfortunately for us, the greatest thing that’s being obscured by this drama, hyperbole, imagery, and emotion, is the truth.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Tecumseh’s Trees Obscuring Educational Forest

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By Jason Menard

In a true case of not being able to see the forest for the trees, the battle over a small public school in South London has become the focal point of the debate regarding the Thames Valley District School Board’s future – and it’s preventing us from taking a good hard look at the education system as a whole.

As a former student at South Secondary School – the big, bad entity that’s going to swallow up Tecumseh Public School – I found myself thinking that what was being obscured was the loss of what potentially is one of the most unique learning environments in the city – good ol’ SCI. Would annexing the neighbouring facility not precede an increase of student enrollment? Would that educational Mecca be trampled underfoot of a stampeding horde of additional students?

But my memories betray the reality of the situation. I remember a school where 700 kids grew together, learned together, and enjoyed a community environment that didn’t exist in other schools where enrollment was larger. We pretty much knew – or knew of – everyone else in the school and there was a comfort level attached to it. My worry, upon following this story, was that this small-school benefit would be lost.

Lo and behold, maybe it already has. And maybe we’re arguing for a past that no longer exists. In speaking with South’s current principal Barb Sonier, and Chris Dennett, the manager of public affairs and community relations for the TVDSB, today’s situation differs greatly from my almost 15 years’ past reality.

South is bursting at the seams. With nine portables and over 1,000 students, there’s no elbow room. The student body can’t fit into the auditorium at the same time. How can minds expand when there’s no room to breathe? So, with declining elementary enrollment and need for space, the annexation of Tecumseh’s facilities by South just makes sense, right? Maybe. But perhaps there are other answers.

And by focusing on these little brush fires, we’re missing out on actions that we can take to put out the raging inferno that’s building. We can’t continue to apply band-aid solutions to our education system. We can’t continue to play feast or famine with various schools, depending on demographic or residential swings. The time to take broad, decisive actions is now.

We have to stop thinking regionally. We should be thinking of the betterment of all students. It’s hard to argue that the kids in Old South shouldn’t be able to go to their school. It’s hard to look at their cherubic little faces in the paper, or see the heart-felt appeals they make to save their school, and say that it’s not possible. But it’s equally hard to say that other students – maybe older, maybe from a different area – don’t have the right to a maximized education as well.

How do we decide? Case by case won’t work. And pie-in-the-sky calls for more funding will continue to go unheeded. It’s time to work towards a cure of our education system, not just treating the symptoms when they flare up, with the tools at our disposal – today.

And first and foremost, we have to look at where education should be going. Our system has been in place for years, but the world is changing at an increasingly rapid pace. Are our schools meeting the needs? Not all that long ago, you could argue that having a separate school board for Catholic students and a quote-unquote public system (which, not too long ago was often referred to as Protestant…) made sense. In today’s multi-cultural and multi-religious society, one would be hard pressed to find an argument in favour of the duplication of effort, the waste of resources, and the imbalance in facilities.

Patching the holes won’t work any more. We need to tear down and rebuild the system. We need to find one that works for all students. Obviously money is at a premium, so why not do our best to maximize the allocation of these precious resources? Instead of two separate school boards, roll them together and focus on the creation of programs that embrace our society’s multi-denominational status, so that we can learn to love, respect, and understand one another.

And the short-fall in the elementary system won’t be restricted to there. In time, those diminished numbers will filter up to the high school system. Do we wait for a crisis at that time, or do we take the steps necessary to ensure our system, as a whole, is ready for the challenges that are before us?

Tradition has a role to play in our society and we should embrace it, but not at the expense of any child’s education. Although the decisions may be tough, we have to ensure that the already stretched dollars and overtaxed teaching resources aren’t strained until the point where they snap. It’s time for someone to take a carte blanche approach to the education system and create a best-practices scenario for today’s demographics.

We can’t just hold onto the past. The tighter we squeeze, the faster it slips through our fingers. The South of my memories is gone – but the commitment to excellence in education remains. Let’s just make sure that today’s students have the same opportunity to succeed that I did. And that comes with defining a plan, using resources wisely, and dealing with today’s realities – not yesterday’s memories.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

Find Your Voice and Speak

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By Jason Menard

Who is more deserving? When it’s a matter of life and death, how do we choose whose life and death matters more?

There are only so many charities and so few dollars to go around. While I know I should be thankful for the situation I’m in, the fact of the matter is we all struggle to make ends meet. We can’t give as much as we like to everyone, so how do we choose?

The question comes up due to my recent purchase of Aldo’s Empowerment tags in support of YouthAIDS program. But why did I choose to spend my money there, as opposed to other no-less worthy causes? There’s no good answer, other than I felt it was right.

Immediately, when we donate to any cause, we feel the need to justify our decision. As if our own personal preferences weren’t enough, we feel pressure to make sure our choice stands up to external scrutiny. Why AIDS over cancer? How about heart disease, diabetes, or the Special Olympics? Why one over the other?

And the simple answer is that we have to do something. Otherwise, we run the risk of suffering paralysis by analysis. There are four causes that my family supports as much as possible: AIDS, heart research, cancer, and world/child poverty. But why are my visible signs of support limited to the white band around my wrist and a necklace around my neck?

I’ve got no good answer. At least nothing more than it feels right.

When it comes to my wife and I, our family has been touched by a number of issues, which have shaped our charitable intentions: we’ve had family members suffer from and even die of heart conditions; we’ve lost family members to cancer; we currently have a friend who is slowly losing the battle against AIDS; and we are strong supporters of debt forgiveness and sustainable growth in developing nations.

However, we’ve also been touched by other diseases. From friends with Multiple Sclerosis to family members suffering from paralysis and even personal experiences with nerve damage, asthma, ADD, and pulmo-resperatory issues, we’ve got ample targets to which our support can be directed. But somehow, somewhere, you have to make a choice. For better or for worse, there’s only so much we can do. Yet, if we become paralyzed with the inability to justify our decisions, then we run the risk of doing even more damage by doing nothing at all.

As 30-something youth, AIDS is rightfully our generation’s disease and, as such, we have an obligation to fight the battle. It’s emergence in the 1980s coincided with our growth into social consciousness. Our circle of friends includes many in the gay community who have felt the destructive power of the disease first-hand. Add to that the devastation this disease is wreaking over Africa, when so much can be done to help prevent it.

And maybe we support anti-poverty efforts because there’s a clear solution to the problem. This is a situation that can be resolved in the not-so-distant future as long as we have the social and political will behind us to make the right decisions. Perhaps the idea of supporting a cause that can be cured is more appealing than continuing to throw money at telethons for diseases where we’re only being fed hope, not solutions. Is that right? No. Is that realistic? Maybe.

Maybe we’re selfish with our choices? The facts that my father had a quadruple-bypass and my grandfather passed from a heart attack are significant components of my support for that cause. As well, with grandparents and friends being both victims and survivors of cancer, we feel more of an affinity for those charities? Are they any more valuable than the others? Probably not – but, again, we had to make a choice.

The reality is, for every 10 reasons I can support one cause, there is a corresponding number of equally valid reasons to support another. We can’t justify our choice, but nor should we feel guilty – at least not as long as we make a choice and do something. There is so much for us to give – not only of money, but of time and support – that there’s no excuse for us not to participate in solving the world’s problems, one step at a time. There is no magic bullet, there will be no quick fix for anything, but through our mutual efforts we can affect change.

They may seem like small steps, it may seem like an insignificant number, but making a small difference is far better than making no difference at all. My Empowerment tag reads “Speak” and now I have spoken. For better or for worse, I’ve made a choice. It’s one small step, but at least it’s a step forward.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved

New Measure of Manhood

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By Jason Menard

Just one word is all it took to remove any of the last vestiges of any sense of cool masculinity to which I was still clinging. Of my own volition, I uttered the word “tummy,” and completed my decent into the land of doing fatherhood.

And you know what? I’m a better man for it.

There were no excuses for my actions. I awoke at night, feeling slightly nauseous, and when my wife turned to ask what was wrong I replied, “My tummy hurts.” And, at that point, it felt even worse as my concept of masculinity plummeted into my gut. Sure, I was tired, but there were no kids around. Just me and my vocabulary diluted to the point where “tummy” was my first reference.

The overall decent has been slow and gradual, like a glacier eroding away the rugged edges of a coast, my carefully crafted, grizzled exterior has been systematically smoothed away by an unyielding force of nature – children.

It’s an interesting parallel watching my son enter that delicate pre-teen age bracket. At 11 years old, his life is all about proving himself in front of his friends. Like all of us at the time, he has a foggy idea of what it means to be a man, but is unable to comprehend what manhood is truly about.

That lesson is one we don’t truly learn until later in life. Even as we progress into our teenage years and our young adulthood, our growth is all about defining ourselves as individuals, showing ourselves to be rugged men capable of standing up against the ravages that the world throws on us. We engage in social rituals and sporting events, which at their very root, are designed to establish a masculinity hierarchy. It’s just nature over nurture and there’s nothing we can do about it.

Yet, for all the chest-thumping, testosterone-fuelled bellowing we do in our youth, the irony is that the true indication of when we become a man is announced not with a roar, but with the dulcet tones we use with our children.

We spend our lives searching for ways to show our dominance. Whether it’s through drinking contests, games of one-on-one, or comparing financial statements, we spend our youth looking for external validation of our manhood. And when we do find it, it’s not through our friends or co-workers, but in the outstretched arms, unconditional love, and unyielding trust of our children.

It is at that moment, when we look into our children’s eyes that we see, reflected back to us, all we need to know in life. It is at that moment when nothing else matters in this world. We stop caring what anybody else thinks, because all that matters is that we do right by our children.

It is at that moment too when we can drop all the pretences and tear down the artificial walls with which we have surrounded ourselves. We can lie down on the floor and just be ourselves with our family. It is in that time when everything finally seems to make sense.

Yet still there are stereotypes that persist. As a parent with two children, one boy and one girl, I can attest that there are differences in the way we experience things. For my initial interaction with my son, the need to remove those traits of masculinity was lessened. He was and is going through the same things that I was and I can understand where he is in life. I can tell him what it truly means to be a man, but it’s a journey that he’ll have to take for himself, so that he can appreciate it more. But, as such, we can fall into the same trap of reliving a juvenile form of masculinity.

In a father-son relationship, we often look to help our children be what we determine a man should be: strong, yet caring; respectful, yet willing to stand up for your beliefs; tough, yet compassionate. Yet those are the same ideals that I strive to impart to my daughter. In the end, gender is a generality, and it’s the individual that matters. So there should be no difference in my experience with my children.

But there is. My son and I share common ground through his current experience as it mirrors my own youth. I’ve walked the path that he’s walked down, so there’s a comfort level associated with him. My relationship with my daughter has required me to step out of what I know and see the world with an entirely new perspective.

Of her own volition, my daughter became interested in babies, princesses, and all the traditional things that some would say stereotypically define a girl. My wife and I left her the choice to select her toys (and with a bunch left over from her older brother, there were no shortage from which to choose), yet she gravitated towards these choices on her own – and forced me to come along for the ride. And, in the end, it’s hard to cling to those youthful ideals of masculinity when you’re one the ground playing with your daughter’s Princess dolls.

The 17-year-old version of me may have laughed at seeing a grown man playing with dolls. But the 32-year-old version of me knows that young punk doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. They say that a parent’s job is to teach their children, but it is with great thanks that I can say that my children have taught me the most important lesson of all – what it truly means to be a man.

2006© Menard Communications – Jason Menard All Rights Reserved