FIRST PERSON | I remember the horror of the Montreal massacre. I worry that everyone else is forgetting | CBC News

This First Person article is the experience of Marlene Bertrand, a Winnipegger who spent her career raising awareness about violence against women. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see this FAQ. You can read more First Person articles here.

It was Dec. 6, 1989.

As the director of what was then Canada’s largest shelter, my life was busy with the demands of running a 24-hour service, responding to the tragedies that came to the door. It never seemed to matter the time of day or time of year, it never ended. 

I had therefore taken the day off to catch up on some rest and personal tasks.

When the phone rang, I remember thinking, “This better not take long.” I had so much to do.

I did not know that the call would not just wipe out my plans for the day,  it would leave me with PTSD for the next 36 years — renewed whenever there is mention of Dec. 6.

The person on the other end of the phone was a reporter, telling me what had just happened at École Polytechnique in Montréal.

Fourteen women. Murdered.

I had to sit down and ask them to repeat what they had just said. My mind was not able to comprehend what I was hearing (even though I had dealt with a lot of unbelievable tragedies that women who came to the shelter had experienced).  

My first thought was “This is a declaration of war on women!”

My second thought was of my daughter. I had to get to the university as quickly as I could to bring my daughter home. I could not let her stay there.

I urgently felt a pressure to get her to safety, but we did not go. After talking to my husband, we believed that it would be impossible to find her.  And frankly, she likely would not want to leave. 

I received a lot of calls that day, from media and other service providers, who, like me, were all in so much shock.

I also knew it was necessary to have extra security at the shelter. I had to facilitate that. I was fearful of copycat crimes.

We then planned a gathering at the legislature, quickly arranged within a day or two — so hastily arranged, and yet hundreds of people, mostly women, came together on this cold night, where we mourned the tragedy of the other women gunned down, all for their crime of simply wanting to study or work in a male-dominated field.  

I remember even seeing a reporter standing behind me, but not to interview me (though he’d interviewed me multiple times over the years). He was not interviewing anyone now. He too was mourning, in shock with the rest of us. 

Heartfelt remarks were made, none of which gave me any comfort. I was moving into the stage of anger.

The crowd started chanting in unison, ‘Je suis féministe.’– Marlene Bertrand

The crowd started chanting in unison, “Je suis féministe.” That went on for quite some time. It was like we were all, together, reaffirming our commitment to our feminist beliefs, knowing that these women had died not because of anything they’d done wrong.

They died because of their gender. 

Later, multiple Canadian unions sponsored a poster to pay homage to the victims. The message was clear: “First mourn. Then work for change.”

And that’s what I did.

When I was appointed the chair of the Manitoba Status of Women, I continued the tradition of holding a Dec. 6 service at the legislature. I believed it was a good tradition. It is the people’s building, where the public could come together.

But I also knew that most of the elected officials at that time thought it was important, and while they might have been too busy to attend a service elsewhere, at least this way they could step out of their office and grieve together, at least for a few minutes, with all of us.

Today, it feels like little is being done to remember these women. Where are the vigils? Why, of all dates, is the government hosting a Christmas open house on Dec. 6?

That’s our date — Dec. 6 — it is our date to remember. It is my belief that we hold that date in our hearts. I do not believe it should be sidelined, rescheduled or shared to accommodate other events.

I also think of the young men who were in that classroom that day.– Marlene Bertrand

It is a sacred date of remembrance and honour. 

Every year, I am reminded of the women who are no longer with us.

I remember their families, especially the mothers, who would be my age now — mothers denied the joy of watching their daughters breaking new ground, denied the joys and pride of watching their accomplishments, denied the possibility of grandchildren, denied the comfort many would have given to them as they age.

I also think of the young men who were in that classroom that day, who did not want to be separated, who wanted to stay and offer support.

Without a doubt, they suspected that tragedy was about to unfold. The mental anguish they must have suffered. How has that affected them? How have they raised any daughters they may have had? In many ways, they may have been the forgotten victims of this massacre.

There were so many young people who signed up to fight in wars and sacrificed  their lives. We would never consider changing Nov. 11 to something more convenient.

Let’s not forget these young women, victims of another kind of war — someone else’s war on women.

Let’s not ignore their memories on Dec. 6. Let’s continue to honour these women and hold this tragic historic date.