It was after the war, in a village in the Eastern Townships clinging to a mountain and surrounded by mosquitoes and the Americans, these two bloodthirsty peoples.
At the time, in this environment, Curtis Lowry could very well have become a horse dealer, smuggler or peddler. The man had instead chosen to become a doctor. Before the war, he had knocked on the door of Bishop’s University, then that of Laval University. They let him in, even though he had a little dirt on his shoes, knowing that he had a few dollars in his pocket.
It was not given to everyone to be paid thanks to the university. Lowry remained, throughout his life, the one whom in all the surrounding villages they deferentially called “the doctor”.
He rented rooms in various houses in the surrounding villages, where he offered his services on a fixed date. My father told me, opening his mouth to show me, how the doctor pulled out bad teeth in the village of Saint-Isidore, because he did not know how to treat them properly.
No doubt this improvised tooth puller was not so different from his colleagues. They too were trying to do the best they could between two deliveries and sick people. In matters of dental care, such a doctor seemed close to the blacksmith with his iron tongs. Such skills borrowed from another profession would have been sufficient to speak, in the terms used in our toothless education system, of “transversal skills”.
For children with decayed teeth and infected gums, Dr. Lowry offered to pull out their mouth snags with pliers for less than a dollar. The same service could be provided at half the price, provided one chose to do it without anesthesia. What my father did, in the habit that had been instilled in him to save at all costs, including his life. Measure this carefully.
Should we completely reproach these semblances of country dentists for having supported families in their misfortune, in the constant need they found themselves to “take care of”, as they said in these households where a nothing, from day to day next day, risked strangling life?
Economic violence pierces bodies through every pore. Being poor still means risking finding yourself toothless in the face of society. Quebec has long had, in this regard, one of the worst mouths on the continent. The situation is still worrying, studies show. Which didn’t stop us from gargling without laughing, repeating to ourselves that we enjoy one of the best systems.
The Bloc Québécois is right to point out, in recent days, that the federal government continues to make announcements that go beyond its areas of jurisdiction, particularly in the area of dental care. Ottawa made announcements for teeth, housing, child nutrition and daycare services. So many areas which in fact relate to local rather than federal powers.
The principles of autonomy of jurisdiction, combined with the state dimension of Quebec, have long established that it was better for Quebecers to take care of social issues themselves. Let Ottawa pay the money, and Quebec will take care of doing what is necessary, we rightly repeat. At least that’s true in theory. For example, many have suspected Quebec for years of diverting various sums of money sent by Ottawa to be used in principle for the education system.
In fact, the idea of living in a more just society through the expansion of social programs is not a priority for all governments. It is not simply a question of sharing of powers, but a vision of society that is expressed. Indeed, if everything were only a question of money, we in Quebec would have acted differently a long time ago.
As a reminder, the government of Caquistan, with the surpluses that the state had accumulated, deemed it a priority in 2021 to pay an almost universal check of $500 to adults. A total expenditure of around 3.2 billion. Then in 2022, he found nothing better to do than to repeat the operation. This time, 3.5 billion were taken from state coffers. In other words, in just over a year, the Quebec state dispersed 6.7 billion, without this serving as a lever to establish new living structures for the collective future.
Faced with such mismanagement – a rich man’s word that the late Yves Michaud liked to use – some people spoke of crass electoralism. These fireworks launched into the air in the form of checks took place while food banks exploded, the situation in schools worsened, health services were overwhelmed, and the public transportation system collapsed. The sun shines for everyone, but it is the moon which unfortunately regulates its tides.
Let’s admit that it is therefore rather embarrassing to go to Ottawa, as Prime Minister Legault has just done, to demand money and more powers. Who would have even bet that he wouldn’t come home empty-handed once again?
The propensity of the federal state to go into debt can leave one wondering. It can even make those who have the leisure to show us the whiteness of theirs cringe. But whether we hate Ottawa’s way of doing things or not, budget deficits that translate into social progress, like healthy teeth, will always have more merit than going into debt without leaving anything else than a vision of the collective future that we bleed dry, in the sole name of the enchantment of money. Especially since, when night falls, whatever one may say in Parliament, people continue to wake up with toothaches and starving stomachs rather than because of concerns about the sharing of resources. skills of each other.