In the wake of the Fort McMurray wildfires, Canadians have gone above and beyond to provide assistance for those affected by the crisis. Although this is generally a good thing, our response to the Fort McMurray wildfires has highlighted a disturbing pattern in the way that many Canadians react to emergency situations.

While Canadians won’t hesitate to help their own citizens in times of need, they will often vehemently refuse to offer the same kind of support to refugees from foreign countries.

Imagine yourself surrounded by flames. Everything you can see is on fire. Your city is burning. You’re afraid for your life, and for the lives of those that you love. You may be forced to flee with very few of your possessions, if any at all, but — at least you’re able to get out. Unsure of what lies ahead, you move towards an uncertain future in an unfamiliar place. In the end, you may lose everything, but you’re thankful to get out alive.

The question is: are you a resident of Fort McMurray evacuating because of a raging forest fire, or are you a Syrian refugee fleeing from the civil war in your own country?

When some details are removed, the two situations are extremely similar: innocent people trying to escape a desperate situation and find somewhere safe. Yet, if the two situations are so similar,

why are our reactions so drastically, and sometimes dangerously, different?

When Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced in November 2015 that the government hoped to resettle 25,000 Syrian refugees in Canada by Dec. 31, this decision was met with fierce backlash from many Canadians.

I’m not just talking about criticism of Trudeau’s tight timeline for this goal — which was admittedly over-ambitious for the new government. I’m talking about outright refusal to let Syrian refugees enter into the country in the first place. Or the suggestion that if we do let refugees in, they had better be Christians instead of Muslims, regardless of who was the most in need.

Now, these were not the views of most Canadians. Many Canadians welcomed refugees with open arms. However, amongst these kindnesses were a slew of Facebook posts and shitty editorials calling all Muslims “terrorists” and demanding they “go back to where they came from.” You know I’m not exaggerating, either — we all have those vaguely racist acquaintances that re-posted something about protecting Canadians from “scary Muslim invaders.”

What’s more concerning is that these passively racist Internet posts have led to very active violence against the Muslim and refugee communities alike. On Nov. 14, 2015, a mosque in Peterborough, Ont. was set on fire, causing more than $80,000 in damage. Muslim Canadians have also reported being harassed and assaulted on the street. When hate speech becomes hate action, the issue becomes a lot more serious.

There are those that will say it’s wrong to use tragedy as a platform for political discussion, and that writing this article is disrespectful to those who are currently suffering because of the Fort McMurray wildfires. The thing is though, everything we do is politically motivated or influenced, even if we don’t realize it. Who we choose to help in times of need is a political act, and can make a statement on either side of the political spectrum.

It doesn’t do us any good to pretend that human kindness isn’t subject to prejudice and political agenda. Instead, we should use these complicated situations to examine our world views and question why we believe what we do. Only then can we move forward with making the world a better place.

We #PrayforFortMcMurray and sympathize with the victims of the Paris bombings because their suffering is something familiar. We ultimately let superficial differences decide who is worthy of our kindness and respect, and that just isn’t right.

At the end of the day, there is no fundamental difference between a Fort McMurray wildfire evacuee and a Syrian refugee. The need for survival is something that transcends race, religion and nationality — and our desire to help those in need should too.

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Emily Klatt

Photo: Chris Schwarz Government of Alberta / Flickr