There’s a community in Sarnia that most of us drive past without thinking twice.
A few turns off the highway. Tucked beside the factories. Easy to miss, unless you live there. Unless it’s your lungs. Your children. Your history.
It’s called Aamjiwnaang First Nation.
They’ve been here since long before there was a Sarnia. Before the roads. Before the plants. Before Canada.
In 1827, their leaders were asked to share their land.
They signed a treaty in good faith.
They believed they’d live as equals.
But instead of partnership, they were surrounded.
By smokestacks.
By flares.
By a silence that still lingers to this day.
Today, Aamjiwnaang is encircled by over 60 industrial facilities.
And the price they pay is staggering.
Cancer.
Asthma.
Babies born in ratios the rest of Canada would consider impossible.
Children breathing benzene before they ever blow out the candles on their fifth birthday.
And here’s the part that breaks me:
They never said yes to this.
We did.
With our silence.
With our jobs.
With our comfort.
And please, don’t get me wrong. I know these plants feed families. I know people working there are good, honest, hardworking souls. I live here too.
But there’s a difference between making a living… and pretending someone else isn’t dying slowly so we can.
We cannot claim to be a caring community and keep turning away from this.
We cannot build our futures on the broken promises beneath our feet.
You don’t have to be Indigenous to care.
You just have to be human.
If this was happening in Bright’s Grove, or Sherwood, or Lakeshore, would we be okay with it?
We all know the answer.
So maybe this is the moment we stop pretending this isn’t happening.
Maybe this is the time we say not in our city. Not anymore.
Not with silence.
Because change begins the moment we decide to care more about what's right… than what's easy.
John Willis