The last time I saw Kate Nixon and talked to her, it was after the council meeting on Dec. 11. So, as you’re reading this, literally one month ago today.
It was after a difficult, though not necessarily contentious meeting where council debated motions around the issue of homelessness. Kate was one of the delegates, calling on council to support a motion to reject the call from some mayors and the Premier of Ontario to use the notwithstanding clause of the Constitution to stop potential court action on clearing homeless encampments.
As usual, Kate demonstrated the qualities that made her one of Guelph’s best activists: She was fearless, dedicated, compassionate and insightful. It was tough to challenge Kate on the facts on the ground – or on the street for that matter – when it came to issues of homelessness in Guelph, but I also can’t think of anyone that would be senseless enough to try and challenge her. In some ways, Kate was 23 going on 50.
Kate was emblematic of a lot of things I admire in today’s youth like positivity, inclusivity, collaboration, and the idea that you can change the world through sheer force of will. She didn’t try to find her niche but created her own and even though it wasn’t always perfect, people responded to the hustle. They responded to her. Kate would probably bristle at the thought of someone calling her the Queen of Wyndham Street, but in many real ways she was.
“Was.” That’s hard word to write.
As you’ve no doubt heard, Kate Nixon passed away on Dec. 29 after a battle with leukemia. The death of any human being is a tragedy, but the death of someone so young hits in a different way. You mourn for the life they lived and the life they were robbed of living. How does someone just at the beginning of their life end up at the end, and so suddenly too?
If you’re lucky, you run into people in your life whose endless energy passes your understanding. How can a human being be built like that? It occurred to me this week, that in all the times I encountered Kate, she was never just hanging out, or window shopping, or sitting down somewhere having a coffee or reading a book. She was always on her way somewhere, spinning several different plates in the air at one time.
Whether it was a protest or a meal with Your Downtown Guelph Friends, Kate was always at the centre of the action. She was never stressed, or at least projected a strong sense of control. I never saw her be short with anyone. In the maelstrom, and with 100 different things going on, she would always stop and listen when someone called her name. She didn’t always have an answer to the question, but she was always invested in getting an answer.
In an era where people do activism to been seen as activists, there was nothing phony about Kate. She did advocacy the hard way. You don’t build an entire volunteer-run effort to assist unhoused people on the streets of Guelph as a teenager if you’re doing it get attention for yourself. In the last few days, social feeds have been full of anecdotes about that time Kate came through in a pinch, at the last minute, and just when everyone thought the proverbial well had run dry.
And in an era where people are cautious about the way they speak, Kate was refreshingly direct. That’s not to say that she was crude or boorish, but she wore her passions on her sleeve, not to mention her heart, and she was fearlessly dedicated to speaking for those that don’t have a voice. You may not listen to someone living in a tent in the Square, but by God you would listen to Kate as she rose to their defense!
That’s what Kate was doing the last time I saw her at that council meeting in December. After the meeting, I lingered with her, Coun. Erin Caton, and some of the other downtown friends who came out to delegate or support those that did. I can’t remember what we talked about, probably some Monday morning quarterbacking about the meeting, but I know what wasn’t said: Goodbye.
The wonderful and horrible thing about life is that we never really know when it’s going be over. This time last year, my mom was in the hospital after waking up with a terrible abdominal pain one morning just after the new year. When she was admitted to the ICU, my sister Alex and I waited with her as she got situated and comfortable for the night and went home. In the night, mom ended up on life support and that, as they say, was that.
At the time, and in the year since, I have sometimes wondered what I would say if I had one last conversation with my mom. Going back to that December day I wonder what I should have said to Kate if I knew that was the last time we would talk. What could I say?
Well, maybe I would just say thank you. Thank you for all that you did and thank you for showing us that will power is still an incredible source of change, and a renewable source at that. Thank you for caring and thank you for humanizing the people that too often get dehumanized. Thank you for being real. In an era where so much feels fake, or like a façade, we forget what it looks like when someone is real. And thank you for being a capital ‘F’ Friend.
If you even think you can’t do something, or that a task seems too hard, and when you feel like maybe you’re the only one that cares, or when you feel beat down by what seems like a world full of mean people with bad ideas, remember that one person can be beacon if their intentions are just and true, no matter how old they are.
In a world full crooks, jerks and tyrants, be a Kate Nixon, who will be profoundly missed by so many people in Guelph. Including me, a terminal curmudgeon.
