Something a little different this time; I want to share a recent social media post from the inimitable Jann Arden:
I am Canadian. I am part tree and part mountain and part rocky shoreline and part prairie dirt. I am a free range child of the sixties, born to hard working people who dreamed small dreams and worked relentlessly to give all their children bigger hopes than they had.
I have travelled across this country more times that I can count. In cars and buses and trains and boats and float planes, I have watched the glorious landscapes morph and change right before my very eyes. From arid deserts to rain forests to crashing waves and mountains of majestic ice, I have seen Canada and Canada has seen me.
All my words are because of Canada.
All my songs, all my art, my musings, my creations are because of this strong and fierce and free land.
Any courage I have, is Canadian.
Any grace I have acquired over my 6 decades here, is Canadian.
My failures and my triumphs are here in the dirt, forever part of whatever this wonderful place is.
My ability to think and reason is Canadian.
My heart is Canadian.
I can go out farther into the world and be courageous in my career and my art, because I am Canadian.
My gratitude over flows. It never stops.
People that come here from all over the world, to make this place their home, are as Canadian as I am. They are the soul and spirit of what makes us magical. We are all people. All colour. All religion. All beliefs. We see each other, and when we don’t get it right, we keep trying to get it right. We own our mistakes and we carry our misfortunes tenderly. We don’t give up.
We fight for goodness.
We stand for goodness.
We are not weak or timid, we are ferocious and tenacious and steadfast. We may falter, but we pull each other up, sisters and brothers and mothers and fathers.
We are ancient roots, spread across a vast and mysterious place, filled with riches and secrets beyond imagination.
I am this land. We are this glorious place.
Everyday, we show the world what it is to be
Canadian.
Having gone to see Jann Arden perform before with my most excellent sister-in-law, Ruthann, (and knowing that she has long followed the singer; bonding from a distance over relatable stories of caring for a mother with dementia), when I saw that Jann would be appearing at the bookstore I used to work at for an intimate event, I knew that tickets for it would be the perfect birthday present for Ruthann. Anyone who has seen Jann perform would probably agree that her storytelling and relatability are what make her shows truly special, and as we made our way to our seats (me happily greeting the former coworkers I haven't seen for months now), we could see that we were the common demographic: past middle age white women, eager to feel a connection with someone who has given voice to a lot of what we've been thinking and feeling and experiencing over the years.
I went in knowing that it would be a Q&A format, and the closest I could come to a question for Jann was to reference the above post, let her know how it resonated with me, and then ask whether or not she thought that Canadian celebrities who live in the US have a duty to get more vocal in the wake of Trump's "51st state" nonsense (because, Mike Meyers aside, I sure haven't seen much from them.) But as the (mostly) women around me asked thoughtful, vulnerable questions about (mostly) art and loss, I knew that it would be an inappropriate and nearly rhetorical intrusion for this format: I knew how I expected Jann to answer, and it could have come across as an aggressive push for her to shame folks who think it best to keep their heads down right now instead of their elbows up.
It truly was an emotional and intimate experience (the last question was from a young woman who had recently lost her dog, and knowing that Jann had lost a beloved pup a few years ago, she wanted advice on navigating the empty spaces of her life and home; Rudy and I were in tears at both the question and Jann's heartfelt response) and then we joined the queue to meet Jann and have her sign the vinyl of her new release, Mixtape, that was included in our ticket price. The line moved fairly slowly — everyone who reached the front of the line took their chance for a few intimate minutes of conversation — and when Rudy got her turn, they talked about taking care of their mothers (Rudy told me later that when she told Jann that her mother had also suffered Alzheimers, she was moved by the fact that Jann didn't say, "Oh, I'm sorry, I know how that is," but rather she reached out for Rudy's hand and asked, "How old was Mum?" That moment felt like grace and brought Rudy to tears.)
Now, Jann had an assistant at the front who tried to keep the line moving, and he kept repeating that there would be no posed photos, but that a bookstore employee would be happy to use our phones to take candid pictures. And when I got near the front, my old manager, Nicole — who had booked this impressive event for our little store (only one of three such events) and was feeling pretty pumped at its obvious success — told me she was going to "starfish" in my pictures (I didn't quite know what she meant by that, but she demonstrated how she would loom in the background with arms and legs splayed and I said, "You better.") So when it was my turn, there was the slightest kerfluffle as Nicole ran forward and starfished and Jann went, "Wait, wait, what's happening?", and as I turned and mugged for the camera, Jann crumpled into the fitting pose above, all while the assistant kept trying to say, "No posed photos" off to the side somewhere. None permitted, but I somehow got one. And when I got my chance as Jann personalised my album, I told her that I had been moved by her "I am Canadian" post and she sincerely thanked me and said that she had been sitting in her kitchen one morning, looking out at the trees and the mountains and she felt compelled to write it out, "I'm so Canadian," she said, "that I am the mountains and the trees. I am this landscape." And I replied, "Well, I'm so Canadian that I'm Jann Arden." And she gave me a "Huh" and a quizzical smile as she passed me my album, and I felt pretty good about the whole experience. (Rudy would later post her own photos on facebook, writing, "Krista gives the best birthday presents", so, successful all around.)