On the eve of the transit strike, I sat in a coffee shop and watched the snow blow in over Centretown.
Suddenly, I blew into a rage.
Until then, a transit strike in winter seemed like such a nightmare scenario, I had convinced myself it had to be, and would be, averted. Then came the mayor’s announcement. There would be no more talks, no more attempts at compromise. Come midnight, the strike was on.
Six days later, there have been ominously few moves toward reconciliation. Both sides have traded blows through the media, while face-to-face talks have remained a scarcity. By refusing to engage in serious dialogue, those with the power to end the strike give the impression they don’t understand the severity of the crisis. This is Ottawa in December, not Orlando in June. Do they understand the hell of walking for two hours to get to work in –20 C temperatures?
Throughout the strike, the forgotten voices have been those of us who rely solely on transit to get around.
Needless to say, the real victims are people living in low-income areas in the suburbs.
Low-wage employees can’t telecommute, and rarely get paid sick days. They don’t always have forgiving bosses who let them get away with not coming to work. A day’s pay on the provincial minimum wage (still a paltry $8.75 per hour) would barely cover a return taxi fare from the vicinity of Lincoln Fields Transitway station to Centretown. Equally suffering are the students struggling to exams, and the elderly missing important medical appointments.
Who knows how many jobs will be lost, how many courses will be failed, how many illnesses left untreated if this strike drags on indefinitely. There’s so much at stake for citizens, it requires both parties to at least try to resolve their differences by getting to the table for serious talks.










