When Donald Trump announced yet another round of tariffs on Canada, I did what I've learned to do over the past year and a half.
Pondered, then wrote... What struck me wasn't the tariffs. It was the difference between how our two countries are responding.
The hostility toward Canada coming out of Washington is political. It comes from one administration and the people who choose to echo it.
Here, something entirely different has happened.
I need to point out that Mark Carney didn't ask me to stop travelling to the United States.
He didn't ask me to stand in the grocery store turning over every can to see where it was made.
He didn't ask me to buy Canadian produce, Canadian beef or Canadian wine.
He didn't ask me to rethink where I spend my vacation dollars.
Canadians did that all by ourselves.
Not because anyone ordered us to.
Because that's how democracies work.
Citizens decide.
Our government is doing its job.
They're negotiating trade agreements, strengthening alliances and deciding where Canada's next submarines should come from.
I'm deciding where my tomatoes come from.
Both matter.
One protects our country at sea.
The other supports it one grocery cart at a time.
I'll admit something.
I wasn't always the person reading every label in the produce aisle.
Two years ago, if someone had told me I'd be standing there squinting at country-of-origin labels like I was deciphering the Dead Sea Scrolls, I'd have laughed.
Now I catch myself doing it automatically.
I probably spend more time reading produce labels than I do the instructions that come with most things I buy.
Our local fruit is in season right now, and instead of assuming I'll buy imported blueberries in the middle of January, I'm looking at my freezer and wondering just how many more bags I can squeeze in before summer disappears.
It's become a bit of a game.
Tetris deep freeze version.
Rearrange this container, move that package of soup, slide the blueberries over there.
Future January me will be grateful.
It's such a small thing and by itself won’t have a major impact.
But then millions of Canadians decide to do the same thing.
That's the part I don't think Donald Trump ever anticipated.
He thought tariffs would pressure governments.
Instead, they motivated citizens, and it has changed us as consumers.
And while we're on the subject of understanding Canada... Donald Trump still seems convinced that our wildfire problem could be solved if we'd simply rake the forests.
I have a modest proposal.
Let's fly him into northern Ontario on a Twin Otter on floats. Trust me, there's no better way to see this country.
It's certainly a lot more educational than looking at it from 30,000 feet in a 747 and deciding you've got Canada all figured out.
I'm not suggesting we do this during wildfire season.
I'm not completely unreasonable.
We'll send him up in the spring as part of preventative forest management.
We'll leave him there with a rake, a tent, enough bug spray to battle a proper Canadian mosquito season, which, for those unfamiliar, isn't for the faint of heart, and nearly 1.3 billion acres of forest stretching farther than he can imagine.
He can let us know when he starts making progress.
The point isn't that forest management doesn't matter.
It absolutely does.
Canada invests heavily in fuel reduction, controlled burns, thinning programs and wildfire response.
The point is that anyone who believes one of the largest forested countries on Earth can simply "rake the forest" probably doesn't understand forests.
Or Canada!
I've heard people ask why Canadians have responded the way we have to this treatment we have received from the United States administration.
The answer is actually pretty simple. We're not doing it because someone told us to.
If anything, Canadians are almost genetically programmed to resist being told what to do.
We're doing it because this is one of the few ways ordinary citizens can make their voices heard.
History has a funny way of humbling countries that mistake their strength for permanence.
Spain learned it.
Britain learned it.
The Soviet Union learned it.
Great nations don't fall because someone else suddenly becomes stronger.
They falter when they become convinced the rules no longer apply to them.
Canada has never needed to be the biggest country in the room.
We've always been content to be a dependable one.
So no, Mark Carney didn't tell me to change how I shop.
He didn't ask me to skip that trip south.
He didn't ask me to fill my freezer with Canadian blueberries while they're in season.
I chose to.
Millions of Canadians chose to.
That's the remarkable part of this story.
Governments buy submarines.
The rest of us buy groceries.
So every time I choose Canadian blueberries, Canadian beef, Canadian wine, or decide that this year I'd rather explore Gros Morne than the Grand Canyon, I am supporting this beautiful country.
Quietly.
Without yelling, waving a flag or posting a slogan.
It turns out democracy isn't measured by how loudly a leader tells you to love your country.
It's measured by whether you're still free to decide what loving your country looks like.
And sometimes it sounds like the quiet click of shopping cart wheels rolling across the floor of a Canadian grocery store! (The one with the wonky wheel! - ed!)
