While I was in Montreal this year, I visited the botanical gardens there and I saw a great many kinds of plants. I am fascinated by the various textures plants have and I love how older large trees spread their roots into the ground surrounding them over time. I found this picture appropriate for the state of my life right now and as such appropriate for this blog post.
Content Warning – I briefly talk about the death of one of my parents. No graphic details or anything like that but if that is something you do not wish to read about – skip this post.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that tuberculosis became a form of racialized violence. In Canada and the United States, for example, many Indigenous children were removed from their homes and forced to attend residential schools. As early as 1907, experts were sounding the alarm that this project seemed “almost as if the prime conditions for the outbreak of epidemics had been deliberately caused.” The death rate from TB in Canada’s residential schools appears genuinely unprecedented in human history.
page 85, Chapter 9: Not a Person, Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green