On a mild fall day, I sit in the Dreamers’ Peace Garden in Regent Park South, contemplating the Month of the Dead. I offer my prayers in union with the one who, in another garden, brought his own agony to prayer. I hand to him my own grief and the grief of my counsellees.
According to a plaque affixed to a rock: “The purpose of the Regent Park Peace Garden is to act as a remembrance for all the lives lost through violence and accidents. It is an expression of hope, goodwill and unity for all races.” I hope so.
This precious Toronto parcel is formally known as All Saints’ Square, so it is good to mention it in November, the month that most Christians begin with that feast day. For those whose tradition includes the practice, it may also be the time for prayers commending souls to Christ and begging comfort for the bereaved. For Canadians in general, it is the time to wear poppies and pause on Remembrance Day.
It’s a curiosity, this quasi-tranquil space in the lower part of the social housing complex, comprised of houses and highrises. (Regent Park North, across from Cabbagetown Women’s Clinic and Aid to Women, is comprised of houses and low-rises.) I rest at a pale blue picnic table amongst a variety of trees, multi-coloured flowers and a birdbath. Outside the garden fence are children using snow shovels to build a leaf pile.
Grief can be complicated and it is sometimes tinged with shame for the survivors. Ask anyone whose loved one was lost to birth control or abortion, fell in a less-than-certainly-just war; committed suicide; or was a less-than-innocent victim of homicide.
When a group of bereaved Regent Park mothers, collectively known as The Dreamers, sought to establish their garden in 2005, a dilemma arose. These women had lost their sons to gun violence. Some of the young men were alleged to have been involved with gangs. In other words, the community was ambivalent about the deceased and the meaning of their deaths. How could a memorial space be dedicated without requiring the veneration of the departed?
The answer lay in sharing. Foundress Elsaida Bailey became a spiritual mother beyond just her particular group. She took up the cause of any child – grown or not – who was lost to any accident or any violence. When she hears of tragic news from Afghanistan, ribbons appear on those trees.
I contrast her garden with Amina Alfred’s nearby mural, “One Spirit United,” which I have just come from visiting. Last year, this “artist guide” helped five youth artists design their wall painting, covering graffiti on the side of a house.
I’m told that the youth artists had input into the content of the information pages painted into the mural – even though a clear agenda has come through:
“Regent Park was established in 1948. Sixty-seven per cent of Regent Park’s population are children and youth from 6-18. Eighty per cent of residents living in Regent Park are immigrants coming from the Caribbean, China, Vietnam, Somalia and Pakistan. Eleven point six per cent of residents living in Regent Park completed university.
“In 1997, roughly 19,724 women aged 15 to 19 gave birth and around the (same) age range, 21,233 had an abortion. Teenage women having unprotected sex are at risk of sexually transmitted infections. Each year, one of four teens contract an STI. AIDS is on the rise. Use a condom … everytime.”
On some other day, I’ll return to my quibbles with harm reduction approaches and even with abortion statistics. For now, I’m in the garden, focused on grief.
I pause and read an unfinished wood sign with handwritten lettering: “To all the Canadian soldiers who have lost their lives all over the world fighting for a cause. We appreciate their bravery, strength and courage. And to all parents, our deepest sympathy to you all. Please hold up your head, ‘cause we do remember your lost, we remember …”
I notice how much Elsaida’s empathy has been shaped by her own suffering. And I extend her good intention to aborted families everywhere, whether they are conscious or not-yet-conscious of our collective national bereavement.
Young as is the population of Regent Park, its youth are grieving siblings and peers just like the youth in this country’s other, more prosperous neighbourhoods. Will it be in their lifetime that our nation designates a distinct annual day for the remembrance of the unborn?
