Fire in the Eyes

The old scriptures tell of how Moses, over 100 years of age at the time of his death, stood on a mountain overlooking the Promised Land and “his eyes were not weak.” Yet, despite that great advantage, the legendary Jewish leader passed on, never able to enjoy what he had seen and dreamed of for most of his life.I thought of that story again a couple of days ago when I learned that Gina Barber, politician, activist and author, passed away of cancer. The outpouring of collective grief and thankfulness for her influence was remarkable in its own way, with many chronicling personal stories of her effect on their lives.I have one of my own, and it’s as recent as two weeks ago. Jane and I were asked to the opening night of A Christmas Carol at the Grand Theatre – the largest production the theatre has ever presented. We took our seat near the front row and shortly after sitting down I heard a weak voice from behind say, “Well, hello Glen Pearson. It’s wonderful what the Grand is doing for the food bank.” I turned around a saw Gina directly behind me. She was not well, I could tell. Occasionally she put her head on the shoulder of her husband, Ted, and shut her eyes.We spoke during intermission and that’s when the Moses story came to mind. Despite her physical weariness, her eyes bore right through me as she reminded us that we still have a way to go before poverty was truly dealt with in this country. And it struck me: despite her personal journey at that moment, she was still filled with the fire of her youth for social justice. She was that same young girl, only enveloped now in a physical shell that was nearing its end.There are many things I’ll remember about Gina – her partisan fervor, constant championing of the marginalized, the belief in public policy and her own wish to write and enact it, and the effect she had on so many individuals throughout her decades of remarkable community activism. I campaigned with her in Old South London as she ran for Board of Control and I watched her at all those doors fighting for what she believed was right. On one of those occasions we went for an early supper and she spoke with fiery eyes of how governments had consistently underperformed when it came to those struggling with low-income. It made a similar fire already burning in me flame even brighter. That’s just how Gina affected others.So, yes, I have many memories of Gina, just like so many other Londoners, but what will remain with me is the fire in the eyes of a true champion only a few days from her death. Her vision was still clear, but the more equitable future she fought for would have to arrive after she was gone, under new leaders and new citizenry sensitive to those so long neglected. To live like that – to die like that – is to never accept life on its own terms if it means others struggle in isolation. Gina Barber wrestled constantly with life, willing it ever towards justice and compassion. What a loss for all of us. We as a community will never be quite as dedicated as we were when she was with us.This was Gina Barber: irreplaceable, incorruptible, and her effect on individual lives, incalculable. None of that changes now that she is gone – her influence lingers. All that remains is that we do our level best collectively to strive for the world she saw so clearly to the very end.