From Medicine Line to Modern Surveillance: How Did We Get Here?

 

From Medicine Line to Modern Surveillance: How Did We Get Here?

I just watched a deeply unsettling video of a tattoo artist returning to Canada—being interrogated by Customs like a criminal. The tone was invasive, the questions absurd, and the power-tripping evident. It made my skin crawl. And it made me think: how did we get to this point?

This isn’t just about one bad customs officer. It’s about the dehumanizing systems we’ve built, where people are reduced to scanned documents and suspicion. Where returning home—or simply moving across land—feels like entering a cage instead of a country.

And all of this during Indigenous History Month, no less.

We forget—or are never taught—that borders in this part of the world are a relatively recent invention. My great-great-grandmother and her family came north from the Willamette Valley in Oregon to Sooke, British Columbia—long before passports, security checks, or surveillance towers. They crossed during a time when the 49th parallel was being carved across Indigenous territories, severing homelands and dividing Nations that had existed here since time immemorial.

Back then, Indigenous peoples referred to that invisible line as the "Medicine Line." Why? Because if they could make it across into Canada from the U.S., they might survive. In the south, especially in places like California, the U.S. government was actively hunting, displacing, and killing Native people, forcing them onto reservations or erasing them entirely. The "Medicine Line" offered hope. It was literally the difference between life and death.

But let’s be clear: that hope was built on fragile ground. Both colonial governments—Canada and the U.S.—were guilty of displacement, forced assimilation, and genocide. Yet for a time, the line seemed to offer a kind of sanctuary.

And now? It’s become a wall. A tool of control. A stage for bureaucratic humiliation.

We’ve gone from open land and kinship ties to militarized crossings and interrogations. We’ve moved so far from understanding the land as something shared—something sacred—to treating it like fenced-off property. And in doing so, we've also lost sight of the people who were here long before any borders.

This month, as we honour Indigenous History, let’s remember: the land remembers what it was before lines were drawn. And maybe we should too.

#IndigenousHistoryMonth #NoOneIsIllegal #MedicineLine #BorderViolence #DecolonizeNow

Watching the U.S. Unravel

From Canada with Love and Worry: Watching the U.S. Unravel

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

I’m writing this today with a heavy heart. As I watch what’s happening in the United States—from up here in Canada—it feels like I’m witnessing a country I once admired unravel thread by thread. The latest developments around the Republican tax plan are especially painful to see.

On Facebook, I read this chilling update:
“We are entering hour 5 of the Ways and Means markup of the Republican tax plan. We're expecting to stay here through the night to fight GOP cuts to Medicaid to line the pockets of billionaires.”

Cuts to Medicaid. Cuts to food assistance. More tax breaks for billionaires. It’s like a nightmare unfolding in real time.

And while a few Republicans did break ranks to vote against the bill (at least temporarily), we know this isn’t over. Trump’s influence is still looming—louder, stranger, and more dangerous than ever. His comments about wanting to annex Canada might sound like a joke to some, but they send a chilling message.

This isn’t just theatre anymore—it’s authoritarianism in action.

What’s even more alarming is that while people across the U.S. are protesting and pleading for justice, Trump appears increasingly detached from reality. Psychologists, therapists, and even former officials are noting just how unwell he seems—mentally and emotionally. But he’s surrounded by yes-men, loyalists, and family members who feed him only what he wants to hear. It’s a bubble—and a dangerous one.

Meanwhile, the impact on everyday people is severe, and we’re feeling it here in Canada too. Tourism from Canada to the U.S. is way down. Many of us just don’t feel safe crossing the border anymore. And it’s hitting U.S. border towns hard—restaurants, motels, small businesses are suffering. Even Walmart said they’ll have to raise prices due to the instability and tariffs.

But do Trump or his billionaire buddies care? Absolutely not. They are profiting off the chaos. In fact, I wonder if Trump even understands what’s happening. He's being manipulated by the very people he brought into power, driven by greed and legacy, not public service.

To my American friends: I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I worry for my elderly friends there—those who depend on Medicaid and SNAP. No one should have to fight so hard to survive.

To fellow Canadians: we have to be vigilant. We have to stand on guard—not just for ourselves, but for the people across the border who are losing their rights and dignity by the day. This isn’t just their fight—it affects all of us.

Boycotts are not hate—they’re resistance. They're one of the few tools we have left when governments fail to protect their people. It’s time to speak with our voices and our wallets. We have to take a stand.

With love, sadness, and fierce resolve,
Tina Winterlik
aka Zipolita

#StandOnGuard #NoToAnnexation #BoycottHate #ProtectTheVulnerable #SolidarityFromCanada #TrumpIsNotWell

Return to Sender: Has America Void Its Lease on Liberty?

 

Return to Sender: Has America Void Its Lease on Liberty?

Watching from Canada, it's hard not to notice the irony of the current political climate in the U.S. The country that brands itself as the beacon of freedom and democracy is now teetering on the edge of authoritarianism, with its most infamous figures—Trump and Musk—treating liberty like a cheap commodity to be bought, sold, or ignored altogether.

This brings us to Lady Liberty herself. Given as a gift from France in 1886, she was meant to stand as a symbol of hope, justice, and refuge for those seeking a better life. But in 2025, that same nation is threatening mass deportations, criminalizing dissent, and allowing billionaires to play puppet masters with democracy. So the question arises: has the U.S. voided its lease on liberty?

A recent piece in the New York Post scoffed at the idea of returning the statue, dismissing it as absurd. But let’s entertain it for a moment. If freedom is now conditional—reserved only for the wealthy, the powerful, and those who toe the line—then maybe Lady Liberty is better off elsewhere. Perhaps she should be seeking asylum in Canada, where at least the concept of human rights isn’t treated as a relic of the past.

Political cartoons are already capturing this sentiment—Liberty bound and gagged, seeking asylum, or weeping as America slides further into the hands of those who would rather see it burn than share power. These images, often dismissed as satire, feel increasingly prophetic.

If Trump wants to annex Canada, if Musk wants to turn democracy into a pay-to-play system, if the so-called "land of the free" is rapidly turning into a dystopian playground for authoritarians, then maybe France should consider sending a boat. Because the America that Lady Liberty was meant to symbolize? It’s fading fast.

Fight Back with Art, Warrior Up with Art

#FightBackWithArt

#WarriorUpWithArt

Art has always been a weapon against tyranny. From political cartoons to graffiti to digital media, artists are pushing back. If they’re so quick to dismiss the idea of returning the Statue of Liberty, maybe that means it hits a nerve. And that alone makes it worth talking about.

Would love to hear thoughts—has America voided its lease on Liberty? Would France ever dare to take her back? Let’s keep the conversation going.