Dear Jessica Brennan:
Some things make my teeth ache. Like, how on earth could these guys be smart enough to get into Dalhousie’s dental program? Have the admission standards become so low that a garden gnome could get accepted? And don’t they teach them about the ethics of the profession? There was a time when if you were going to hold the title doctor, you saw the need to be above reproach, and a leader. You knew you would need the respect of people in order to honour the profession and you would care enough about your own vocation not to show yourself in a poor light. You didn’t pull out the “freedom of speech” and “victimless crime” cards to try to excuse yourself from a “thought crime” – something in your head, oh and also something that is plastered on facebook – private or not. (THAT worked out well for them). What happened to behaving well because it’s kind and nice and doesn’t have the word “hate” in it? Don’t they have mothers? Here’s a good rule of thumb, if the word hate is in it, it’s probably not a great idea, unless you’re asked to eat liver, which I hate, but eating it is a good idea, I think.
Whether or not I say the students should be expelled doesn’t change the fact that I resent the cavalier attitude around some of this, which will be less cavalier if one of the aforementioned garden gnomes turns into an offender under the laws of this fine county instead of under the laws of commonsense that don’t seem to apply. Most of us are getting a bit tired though of the old “boys will be boys excuse”, or gnomes will be gnomes in this case. I disagree that there are no victims. The victims are anyone who has given time out of their precious life to read about this story, women everywhere who once again have been made to feel like alarmists because they don’t want to be objectified, and men who do take their vocations and reputations seriously – we once called them gentlemen – and who now have to walk alongside the lowest common denominators of their gender…and garden gnomes with whom I actually have no problem but when I wrote woodchuck, it seemed too complimentary. Anyway, this is further evidence, that the older I get the less I know. Love Mum xo
PS – I did have a chat with our garden gnome to see if ever he had been this despicable but he just looked straight ahead during the entire conversation so he’s now in the shed with a clay pot over him. Perhaps this is a metaphor for the solution.
