Today marks the 20th anniversary of the Montreal Massacre.
I was 18-years-old when the 14 women were gunned down. As an earlier adopter of feminism, I had already done much of the reading required of a budding feminist and had some very decent mentors in place.
When the Montreal Massacre happened, it rocked my young world. Twenty years have gone by and never have I forgotten that day. Throughout my life, I have remembered.
I remembered the 14 women the year after the massacre, as I sat in my first year university lectures, imagining what it would be like for someone to walk into my lecture hall and kill me – because of my gender.
I remembered the 14 women as a graduate student working with women’s groups – planning memorial services for December 6th.
I remembered the 14 women when I was at law school, choosing subjects like Feminist Legal Theory and writing papers that focused on gender, violence, Battered Women’s Syndrome, etc.
I remembered the 14 women when I worked at a women’s legal service, having to go through security to get into the building and working behind bullet proof glass. All that because of the men in the lives of our clients.
I remembered the 14 women when I gave birth to my first daughter on International Women’s Day in 2001, wondering what her life would hold and what the women of her generation would face.
And how do I remember the 14 women now?
I remember them as I raise my sons and daughters. I remember them in simple ways – conversations with my children, the way I use language, through setting expectations and by bucking gender stereotypes within our home. Feminism is not a big scary word. It is founded on the basic principle that women have choice – the choice to have six kids, the choice to have none.
The choice to become an Engineer.
When do you remember the 14 women?
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