And now it has been twenty five years, since that that snowy day in Montreal, when a man with a gun stole the lives of so many young women.
And this year that sad anniversary has never seemed so poignant and painful, with all the stories in the news about the never-ending violence against women.
As if we had learned nothing, as if they had died for nothing.
As if we had forgotten that it was that same bestial, senseless, cowardly hatred that drove their killer to unleash his murderous violence upon them...
I'm ashamed to admit that when the stories about the ghastly harassment of women in this country began to emerge, first at the CBC and then on Parliament Hill, I was shocked and horrified.
But because I'm a gay guy, and I've never harassed anyone let alone a woman, and sex for me means love not violence, the idiot thought entered my mind that it wasn't my problem.
So don't don't blame me eh?
But as the trickle of horror stories became a flood.
And gave birth to this magnificent movement.
I rapidly realized how wrong I was. It is my problem. It's everybody's problem. And as Carol Goar says, we all need to look in the mirror.
