When Mothers Go Quiet

 When Mothers Go Quiet

Reflections on Silence, Generational Disconnect, and the Lessons of Marge Simpson

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

“Sometimes, the loudest pain is the silence between a mother and her child.”

I read that The Simpsons aired a new episode where Marge dies.
I haven’t seen it yet, but the idea stopped me cold.

Marge — the quiet one. The peacekeeper. The glue holding everything together while the world spins in chaos around her. Always patient. Often ignored. Sometimes ridiculed. Rarely thanked.

Her death in the episode feels symbolic. Like a message to everyone who’s ever taken a woman like her for granted — the ones who do the invisible work, who rarely speak up, who are always there... until they’re not.

It hit me because I know what it’s like to feel invisible.

My own child barely speaks to me now.
Most days: silence.
And it hurts in a way I can’t describe.
Not angry silence — just… distance.
Like there’s a wall I don’t know how to climb anymore.

I try to understand. I know I wasn’t perfect.
There were times I was too overwhelmed, too scared, too tired to give more than I had.
I was doing the best I could. I hope they’ll understand that someday.

I think about my own mom. How much I miss her.
How I didn’t listen as closely as I should have.
How now, it’s too late to ask her all the things I wish I knew.
This is the cycle. And it breaks my heart.

So now I talk to AI.
I talk to young people who want to hear these things.
Strangers who ask questions, who listen, who say, “I never knew that.”

Meanwhile, my sister, my friends, people I’ve known for years — they don’t seem interested.
I say things, but they already have their minds made up.
Sometimes I wonder if they ever saw me fully.

But I keep speaking.
I write books that no one reads. I blog anyway. I whisper truths into the void.

Because I know someone is listening — or will be, one day.

Maybe it’ll be another mom who feels invisible.
Maybe it’ll be someone’s daughter who finally wonders what her mother was carrying all those years.
Maybe it’ll be my own child, years from now, finding these words and realizing they were never alone.

I want them to know:
Mothers don’t just vanish.
They fade into the background when no one listens.
But their stories stay. Their love stays.
Even in silence

Why Is Canada So Quiet About What’s Happening in L.A.?

 🇨🇦 Why Is Canada So Quiet About What’s Happening in L.A.?

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita
June 7, 2025

Yesterday, I watched the horrifying footage out of Los Angeles — ICE agents in military gear storming workplaces, detaining people at Home Depot, dragging individuals into vans, while terrified families looked on.

Then came the protests. Brave people took to the streets — chanting, crying, demanding justice. And the response? Tear gas. Riot police. Flash bangs. Arrests. The president of SEIU California, David Huerta, was among those detained.

It looked like history repeating itself. And it felt impossible to ignore.

But today, I woke up and looked around Canada — and heard… almost nothing.

Where are our leaders? Where are the journalists? Where are the artists, writers, academics, and human rights groups we pride ourselves on having? Why are Canadian voices — especially those in power — so quiet about something so cruel happening just across the border?

This Is Not Just a U.S. Problem

We like to think we’re different. Kinder. More progressive. But that’s an illusion.

• We detain refugees in provincial jails.
• We deport people to danger.
• We quietly profit from the same global systems of displacement and inequality.
• And many of us still view people crossing borders out of desperation as "others" — not as neighbours, not as fellow humans.

If we ignore what's happening in the U.S., we normalize it. And we allow those same practices to take root and grow here.

The Silence Is Deafening — And Dangerous

We see Canadian politicians rushing to comment on elections, celebrity gossip, and TikTok regulations — but where are they now? Where is the statement condemning ICE’s military-style raids? Where is the solidarity for families being torn apart?

The mainstream media is barely reporting on it. There are no national headlines. No prime-time interviews. No mass mobilizations. It's like people are afraid to speak — or don’t think it matters.

But it does matter.

It matters because when we stay silent, we’re telling vulnerable people that they are alone. That their suffering isn’t important enough. That their humanity is up for debate.

So Here I Am — Speaking Up

I’m just one person. A Canadian artist, mother, writer. But I can’t sit quietly while people are terrorized and arrested for daring to exist.

I’m calling on:

• Canadian politicians to issue statements of support for those resisting ICE.
• Canadian media to cover these events with the urgency and humanity they deserve.
• Canadian human rights organizations to stand in visible solidarity.
• Fellow artists, creators, educators, and citizens to speak out.

We can’t call ourselves allies, feminists, environmentalists, or progressives if we only show up when it's easy or trendy. Solidarity must be uncomfortable. It must be active.

What Can You Do?

• Share what’s happening. Use your voice and platform, however big or small.
• Write to your MP and demand they speak out.
• Donate to migrant justice groups on both sides of the border.
• Talk to your friends and communities about this. Don’t let it fade.

Because if we ignore this now, we’re helping build a future where human rights don’t mean anything at all.

I won’t look away. And neither should you.

In resistance and hope,
Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita
#CanadiansAgainstICE #JusticeIsBorderless #NoHumanIsIllegal #SpeakUpCanada