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Infamous letter brings back memories

I want to discuss the sentiment that a St. Albert couple expressed in an April 3 letter to the Gazette. Remember, the one about the Habitat for Humanity development in Akinsdale? The letter asserted that, currently, St.

I want to discuss the sentiment that a St. Albert couple expressed in an April 3 letter to the Gazette. Remember, the one about the Habitat for Humanity development in Akinsdale?

The letter asserted that, currently, St. Albert has “great” families, but that a Habitat for Humanity development would attract people who earn less money than the community’s average and thus are not so great. Also, apparently, a Habitat for Humanity development would make the letter writers feel unsafe about taking their kids to a movie night in the park, would create the need for a larger police force, and would introduce drugs into elementary schools. I’m not kidding about this.

Naturally, the letter disgusted and amazed me, as it did the writers of response comments on the Gazette’s website. But, sadly, it didn’t surprise me.

In high school, I dated a girl. (Yeah, yeah, enough with the jokes. I dated several, actually.) Her father picked me up from school one day and saw her with me. The next day, she told me that her father said, “If I had a son that looked like that, I’d drag him behind the barn and shoot him.” (Now, one must wonder about the quality of a girlfriend who would repeat that to her boyfriend. Don’t worry, I’m with you on that one.)

That summed up how a lot of people in St. Albert treated me. I was the geek, the freak, the weirdo, the loser, the nerd, and other words that the fine people at the Gazette can’t print. I know, it’s even hard for me to believe, looking back. But I swear to you, it’s true. I was not cool as a kid.

The people who wrote that nasty letter said that the children of St. Albert will not socially accept low-income peers. I was not socially accepted by many of peers, but not because my family couldn’t afford a wastefully enormous house and a wastefully enormous vehicle and hilariously overpriced brand-name clothing. No, I was unaccepted because I refused to participate in a system that would reject me on those grounds.

I had friends. They weren’t the cool kids. They were the ones who didn’t measure a human’s value in dollars. They were the ones who valued creativity, uniqueness, ingenuity, critical thought, spirit and soul. And it was easy for me to find the people I’d fit well with because I looked so weird on the outside. People who thought it was a good idea to ridicule someone publicly because of the person’s clothing automatically revealed themselves to me. I always knew instantly who I’d like and who was not worth my time.

Years ago, I met a young man who thought that money and coolness were the ideal goals in life. But he was intrigued by my outlook (about which I was, naturally, very vocal). We became friends. Then he was hospitalized due to a car accident. When I visited him in hospital, I found him playing a board game in the social room with another in-patient. When I entered the room, the other person looked me up and down and said, “Wow, is it Halloween in here or what?” My friend and I went for a walk. He said, “That guy was a real jerk, hey?” I replied, “Yeah.” He said, “He wasn’t like that until you showed up.”

Habitat for Humanity must know how it feels. I bet neighbours of those letter writers were surprised and disappointed to read that letter. The letter writers likely seemed fine until Habitat for Humanity showed up.

I was so glad to read all of the responses that opposed that letter’s reprehensibly shallow view. It’s easy to focus on the mean people. But, truly, I think the nice ones are far greater in number.

Dave Lloyd is a writer and musician who grew up in St. Albert.

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