I woke up yesterday morning after the most incredible thunder and lightning storm.

And then I did that terrible habit so many of us have: I immediately reached for my phone and opened social media.

The very first thing I saw was a post telling me that our beloved barbara findlay had left this earth.

I learned that barbara had chosen MAID. And suddenly, my Sunday morning was filled with paradox, holding the complexity grief asks of us. I felt so deeply glad for her that she was free from suffering. That she had choice. That she was able to leave this world on her own terms.
And I was also, selfishly, so very sad.

Since then, I have been trying to process what it means for our communities to lose a giant. An icon. A profound changemaker. An elder. A mentor. A friend. A keeper of our histories. Someone who, somehow, always seemed to be there when you needed her.

My experience of barbara is both deeply personal and deeply political. My relationship with her is woven into my own consciousness-raising, into my relationship with WAVAW and Salal, and into my understanding of what the anti-violence movement could and should be.
I had the extraordinary gift of friendship with barbara.

In 2003, when barbara was representing Kimberly Nixon in her case against Vancouver Rape Relief, I was still relatively new to WAVAW and made myself present at the courthouse as often as I could.

I wanted to watch.

I wanted to learn.

We wanted Kimberly to see, in the bodies that showed up to court, that there were people within the anti-violence movement who knew that trans women belonged in our movement.

The case would move through the courts for years, with barbara continuing to represent Kimberly as she challenged her exclusion from Vancouver Rape Relief.

Watching barbara in court during that time changed me.

Here was this absolutely badass lawyer using the law — with all of its limitations and contradictions — as a tool to try to change people’s material lives. Watching her helped shape how I came to understand advocacy and justice, and most certainly influenced the way I thought about the law as I spent much of my own career walking beside survivors through police, courts and other systems in Victim Services at WAVAW and Salal.

barbara was an icon.

And she was also one of the most tender people I have ever known.

She cared fiercely about our babies. About queer and trans youth. About community. About feminist movements. About our elders. About ensuring that we knew the stories of the people who came before us so that we did not mistake the rights we have inherited for rights that simply appeared.

She understood that movements have memory.
And she carried so much of that memory for us.

barbara was someone I could always pick up the phone and call when I needed context, when I needed a thought partner, when a community member needed her wisdom or expertise. And if she wasn’t the person who could help, she would make damn sure you found the person who could.

So many people in my world, and so many people in Salal’s orbit, are connected to barbara.

I had the immense privilege of welcoming her onto Salal’s Board during a critical period in our organization’s history, as we were moving through our name change and beginning to build our new healing hub.

She was deeply invested in ensuring that Salal thrived. She was always committed to ensuring Board members understood exactly what they were agreeing to and what their roles asked of them. She offered her wisdom freely.

She helped me be accountable.
And she also saw me.

There were moments when she would offer me a piece of insight from her own experience as an Executive Director that would stop me in my tracks. She understood things about leadership, movements, conflict and change that were vital to us as an organization.

I was lucky enough to work alongside her on our Founding Mothers Fireside Chat, and we had so many conversations about the importance of documenting the history of our movements; about what disappears when we don’t tell our own stories.

More recently, we were enormously fortunate to have her speak with our community about what she called the five-alarm fire facing trans youth: the escalating political targeting of trans people and the willingness of governments to use extraordinary legislative power to strip young people of rights.

Even while navigating her own health, barbara kept sounding the alarm for those coming behind her.

That was barbara.

I have so many memories of her, and I know I will continue to be flooded by them in the days and weeks ahead.

But there is one piece of yesterday I cannot shake.

The night barbara left the earth, the sky over Vancouver cracked open with thunder and lightning. Yesterday, as I walked and thought about her, trying to comprehend how much I will miss her, and particularly the simple privilege of being able to pick up the phone and hear her answer,”what’s going on, Dalya?” a shooting star flew overhead.

And I thought: of course. Of course the universe would refuse to be quiet about barbara findlay leaving us earth side and welcoming her.

Thunder. Lightning. A streak of light across the sky.

Anything smaller would have felt inadequate.

I know barbara touched thousands upon thousands of lives. I know that I only ever knew one sliver of this extraordinary human being. And there is something profoundly comforting in knowing how deeply community loved her, adored her, learned from her, argued with her, organized with her, was changed by her and held her.

Sending so much love to Sheila, to barbara’s chosen family, to her loved ones, and to the enormous constellation of people grieving this loss.

And at Salal, we will do our part to keep her stories alive.

We will remember what she taught us about courage.
About accountability.
About choosing each other.
About knowing our history.
About refusing to accept that the world as it is.
About using every tool available to us to make people’s lives more free.

May barbara’s memory be a revolution.
May her memory be a movement.
And may we honour her by continuing the work.

-Dalya Israel

 

For anyone wanting to learn more about the Nixon v. Vancouver Rape Relief Society case and barbara’s role in it:

Supreme Court of Canada — Kimberly Nixon v. Vancouver Rape Relief Society

BC Human Rights Tribunal — Nixon v. Vancouver Rape Relief Society

University of Victoria Transgender Archives — barbara findlay collection

For anyone wanting to watch our Founding Mother’s Fireside chat: https://youtu.be/eB3ZsjDTgik 

For anyone wanting to watch the “Five-Alarm Fire”: https://youtu.be/UqrCBwuYnvA