Each week, I scroll social media looking for story ideas or event photos. Sometimes, I come across an event that unites past and present, old and young and the diverse populations of Canada—no, I’m not talking about Beer Fest.
While looking for event photos for our weekly photo page, Partial Recall, I came across images of a recent Terry Fox Run fundraising event, held by The Four Seasons Resort and Residences Whistler. I suddenly was taken back to my childhood in Ontario. Without fail, each September I took part in the run with my entire elementary school. The distance, which I can’t recall these decades later, seemed daunting, despite my highly active childhood. I usually walked or jogged around several blocks in my small town, through muggy days or rainy ones, wondering why some, like my tall and lithe music teacher, ran fervently, looping the route multiple times.
Soon after seeing the photos of Whistler’s run, I was out on a run myself in Squamish. I came across nostalgia-inducing chalk writing with quotes from Fox and the words “Terry Fox Run 2024” etched into pavement near the Smoke Bluffs. Decades have passed since I’ve gone from small-town Ontario to playing in these sport meccas. I, and the country, have changed. My disdain for running has merged into a deep appreciation for the meditative act. Our country has become more divided.
Yet, the Terry Fox Runs live on. I didn’t expect to get philosophical about the event, but here we are. I think the ubiquity of the fundraiser provides something we desperately need as a country: shared, unifying experiences with positive goals. In an age where we can’t seem to agree on very much, nor are we proving highly capable of having civil discussions about the issues we care about, we need experiences that connect us in communities and across the country.
The rise of the internet and social media giants have created a world where what we read, watch and hear varies vastly based on the accounts we follow and the platforms we use. In one way, a broad media diet can be healthy. In another light, if the information we receive is highly biased and encourages conflict over conversation, it chips away at our ability to understand each other, let alone reach consensus. It disrupts our ability to share in a narrative.
And narratives are important. They subtly shape our beliefs. Whether it’s the Indigenous creation story of Sky Woman and Turtle Island, the concept of multiculturalism, or the idea the Earth is flat, stories create beliefs about how we should operate in our society. I don’t expect or want everyone to have the exact same experience in Canada—we all come from different ethnicities, cultures, places and caregivers—but I do wish we had more shared experiences which create solidifying societal glue.
We need more people like Terry Fox, a man who sought to unite Canadians in his Marathon of Hope. After being diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma, Fox set out to do something incredible because of a deeply personal yet universal experience: cancer. He wanted to raise more money for research, and he was going to run across the country to do it.
He started on the East Coast, dipping an artificial leg in the Atlantic Ocean on April 12, 1980. He ran through all conditions, captivating audiences from coast to coast to coast, before cancer returned to his lungs and he had to stop Sept. 1, 1980, after running 5,373 kilometres.
This happened before I was born, yet I learned about him through our education system and from participating in the run each year. His narrative, imparted to me at a young age, can still stir up a warmth in my chest, and matter enough for me to sit down and think seriously about his legacy and what impact it has had on Canadians.
His narrative of hope lives on, 44 years after the fact. Now, I can’t help but wonder—if another Fox came along, would we stop and pay attention the same way? Could we? Even if you didn’t participate in the event, or disagree that it is unifying, I hope you can agree any functioning society needs some glue to hold itself together.
I’d far prefer that glue come from positive group experiences and action than fear-baiting algorithms, conspiracy theories or hate.
