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8am Sunday Morning. A child enters the kitchen just as I'm stuffing a left over butter tart into my mouth. When he asks me what I'm eating, I reply "bitaminsh" (vitamins)
#twosetsofrules

***

My usually flat-ironed auburn hair is curling in the humid air of an East York swimming pool, transforming me from 'weekend-yoga-pants-mum' to 'maniacal-clown-wig-mum.' I'm sitting on the pool deck with all the other swimming lesson parents, half-watching while my son is purportedly learning to swim. This is his third go at level 1 — the main requirement being a demonstrated ability to put one's face in the water, something he has only ever done by accident, including in our own bathtub at home.

Between glances at the pool, I usually dedicate this hour to my phone, scrolling through the 40 or so emails that will have come in since I last checked on Saturday night.

Many of the emails will require asap responses. Some could culminate in a conference call that will be booked right in the middle of Sunday dinner time to maximize the disruption to our personal lives and the annoyance of our families.

As my email loads, I take another look at Tim, who appears to be in deadlocked negotiations with his swim teacher. My son is standing, toes curled around the pool edge, shaking his head emphatically while his teacher is in the pool trying to encourage him in.

As expected, there are a handful of emails marked as urgent. I quickly assess them on the usual scale:

Code Red: Originating from the CEO

CEO emails need to be responded to within 20 minutes of their issue. They're rarely urgent, but if left unreplied to, will begin to multiply like wet gremlins. Like many CEOs, ours seems never to sleep (I imagine him prowling the rooms of his Forest Hill manse, snorting cocaine and blasting the email universe with his ideas as they roll in). He has a limited amount of patience for other peoples' sleep habits. If he doesn't receive a near-immediate response, he'll resend his original email, now topped with a passive-aggressive "???" to a growing list of CCs until someone responds.

Code Orange: Marketing Involvement

Despite being of no immediate consequence, marketing requests need to be treated with urgency because the CMO is the barely-out-of-private-school daughter of the CEO. They came together as a package deal — like Bonnie and Clyde — no, like Thelma and Louise, driving the company like they stole it, speeding crazily toward a cliff-edge and cheering themselves on all the way.

Code Blue: Potential for Brand Destroying PR Nightmare

Is this an issue that could foreseeably end up on the drive-home news? Drop everything.

It just so happens that at the very moment my son performs his first non-accidental face-wetting and looks proudly over at me, I am reading an email that matches ALL THREE of the ranking criteria.

***

FROM: MARIANNE STERN, CMO
TO: ALICE MACKENZIE, VP CUSTOMER CENTRICITY
CC: DYLAN STERN, CEO

SUBJECT: Um, Serious Problem?

Hi Alice -- there's some kind of situation brewing on Twitter with the "Native Traditions" fall line? Apparently, some product names are problematic? The word appropriation being thrown around? They seem particularly mad about the following products:

Beaded Wampum Room Divider
"Eskimo-kiss" Monogrammed Throw Pillows
Full-Size Standing Chief Coat Rack

Need you across this right away. Can you delete tweets from our feed? Also, let's remove the reviews that are accumulating on those product pages. Completely unfair. Killing online sales.

Dad is scheduling a call at noon to discuss your plan on this. Thanks.

M.

***

"I did it, did you see?" Tim asks. Drip drops are falling from his swim trunks onto my knees, where I am still cross-legged on the pool deck, hunched over my phone.

"....mmm," I respond vaguely, urgently tapping at my screen.

"Were you afraid I was going to drown? You looked scared," he declares.

At the word 'drown,' I look up at his face, which is screwed into a sweet 6-year-old boy version of concern.

"You almost drowned?"

"No! I jumped in and put my face into the water. On PURPOSE!" he says proudly.

"Oh! That's so great, dude. You'll pass this time for sure," I say, standing and shimmying him over to the change room. I'm frantically scrolling through our brand's Twitter feed to find out exactly what I'm dealing with.

***

WANDAJAY
9 hours ago

Whoa! Srsly northlodge? Standing Chief Coat Rack???? My grandad was a chief. You wanna hang your jacket on my ancestors? #NoCoatsOnUs

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GREATWHITENORTH
4 hours ago

@northlodge where u been for the last 30 years? It's INUIT, not ESKIMO, assholes.

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ROBERTCARTER retweeted WANDAJAY
4 hours ago

@NorthLodge. Cultural appropriation isn't cool #Justice4WandasGrandad #Appropriation #NoCoatsOnUs

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DELHISNACK

3.5 hours ago

Uh puhleeze dudes. @northlodge always ripping people off, get over yrslves. Memories of Bollywood summer BBQ anyone?

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WANDAJAY > DELHISNACK
3.5 hours ago

Bollywood is a genre. Not your culture. Totally different. #Justice4WandasGrandad #NoCoatsOnUs

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NORTHLODGE SOCIAL TEAM > WANDAJAY
3 hours ago

Oh dear, sounds like we're having a bad day! Not our intention to offend. We can make this better. DM us for a $5 off coupon!

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WANDAJAY > NORTHLODGE
3 hours ago

You'll be sorry if you don't take my grandad off your shelves. #Justice4WandasGrandad #NoCoatsOnUs

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NORTHLODGE

2 hours ago

Today only, 50% off our fall decor line. In-store and online. Use coupon code 50OFFFALL

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TRENTLIFE > NORTHLODGE
2 hours ago

You know who loved a 50% off sale? Wanda's Grandad. Take him off the shelf. We will not stop.

#Justice4WandasGrandad #NoCoatsOnUs

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SCALLYWAGGER
1 hour ago

@Northlodge appropriates Indigenous culture. Boycott! Fwd everywhere!

#Justice4WandasGrandad #NoCoatsOnUs

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NORTHLODGE
45 minutes ago

Brr. Chilly out here. Our coyote-style-trim parkas reduced to $59.99 to keep you cozy.

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SAMSONITE > NORTHLODGE
35 minutes ago

Wanda's Grandad says stop killing raccoons.

#Justice4WandasGrandad #NoCoatsOnUs

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(load more)

Ugh. I think I've got the picture.

***

The call is scheduled for noon, which means I have to take it in the car with Tim in the backseat as we fly across neighbourhoods between swimming and soccer.

Tim, still damp and smelling strongly of chlorine, is strapped into his booster seat in the back and tasked with putting on his shin guards and soccer socks. I give him a dramatic over-the-shoulder shhhhhh while the speakerphone rings through.

The line connects, and I can hear that the conference is already in full swing. Marianne is screeching about the detrimental effects this "community outrage or whatever" could have on her sales numbers. Her sole agenda, as usual, is to identify the person at FAULT and to CRUCIFY them publicly. The VP of Merchandising (who's fault it presumably is) is preparing his counter-defensive by asking accusing questions of his own.

"Hi, Alice on the line," I say tentatively, hoping not to disturb the witch hunt or draw the negativity in my direction.

"Alice," says Dylan, the CEO, impatiently. "It's about time." I glance at the digital clock on the dashboard. It's 12:01. "We've been blue-skying some possible responses to this situation. Need your POV. We have Marianne, Tony, Roy, and Sandra on the line."

"Well, first," interjects Tony, the VP of Merchandising, "I want to make it clear that I'm not responsible for the products we sell, right? My job is to sell whatever the rest of you decide to make, right? So, if the question is, and I do think this is the key question here, how did culturally offensive items get on the shelf, well, I can't speak to that, can I? That's more in Roy's wheelhouse."

Marianne issues a hysterical snort but is cut off by Roy, the VP of Product, who counters stonily, "But since all the designs come out of China now, none of us are technically responsible. Which is why I keep saying, handing over the design of authentically Canadian merch to China doesn't make sense. I keep saying that."

"Right," scoffs Marianne, "But who ultimately signs off on the designs, Roy? Whose FAULT is it that people are shitting all over my super-good promo messages with this dumb WandasGrandad hashtag? I mean, who EVEN cares? The trolls just reply to any attempt to redirect the conversation with something about this guy who probably doesn't even EXIST."

"Well, we did all agree on the fall themes," Roy reminds her. "Remember, last spring? We sat in the boardroom, reviewed the Fall LookBook and agreed on the Native Canadian themes."

I remember that meeting, although it appears to be ringing no bells with anyone else on the call. I can hear Tim struggling with his socks in the backseat and consider pulling over to help him quietly, but we can't afford the time.

I clear my throat and say, "Yes, I do remember that meeting. I remember cautioning that there's a very fine line between celebration and appropriation."

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean," says Marianne tetchily in my virtual direction. "Speak plain English."

In the backseat, Tim huffs angrily at his sock.

I shoot a warning look at him via the rearview mirror.

"She means," offers Sandra, Manager of Social Response reporting to me, "It was completely predictable that a product line that's heavily ripping off aboriginal culture was going to get slammed by Indigenous groups. Cultural appropriation is a BIG DEAL for this community."

"Mum, my SOCK is STUCK on my SHIN guard," whines Tim. I hold my finger to my lips in the rear view mirror.

"But it's OUR Canadian culture," shouts Dylan (an American). "THEY can't say we don't have a right to use symbols of Canadian culture -- it's what we DO at NorthLodge."

I can feel Sandra's bravery curling up and silently thank her for trying.

"Wait," says Tony, "Sandra, didn't you say something about being part Indian... I mean, Indigenous or whatever the word is now, yourself?"

Oh no. "Only like one-32nd. On my mother's side," she says weakly.

"What's APP-RO-PRIATION mean?" asks Tim in a stage whisper.

"Well, there's our answer," says Dylan triumphantly. "Sandra, you go on there and respond as a Native Canadian yourself. Something like 'As a Native person, I appreciate seeing my culture embraced by patriotic brands like NorthLodge.' Then it'll all fizzle out."

"Nope," I say declaratively, "I'm absolutely not allowing Sandra to do that. That's completely out of..."

"I HATE THESE SOCKS!" Tim erupts loudly from the backseat. I motion him to shut up.

"Decided," says Dylan firmly. "Sandra, take it from here."

"No, no, Dylan, listen to me," I plead. "That'll only make things worse. An employee of the company should never come out against the public's concern. She works here. They'll find that out. It'll get way worse. Plus, well, she's not really VERY Native, is she? I'm not sure what's considered..."

"I think that's racist, Alice," says Tony. "Native is Native. She has rights."

"Well, no, I don't. I really don't have..." starts Sandra.

"I would recommend instead that we offer to pull the offending products from the shelf and..." I pause, waiting for inspiration. "And announce that we're making a charitable donation to an organization that raises awareness about appropriation."

"NO WAY," screams Dylan, with a characteristic but still jarring swerve into fury. "NO FUCKING WAY. WHAT THE FUCK is your actual JOB here, Alice? Do I pay you to handle this SHIT or to put me out of business with charitable FUCKING donations to woke terrorists!? You and your team of INCOMPETENT ASSCLOWNS need to figure this out."

The call is silent for a moment while we all take this in.

Roy clears his throat uncomfortably and says, "Sandra, if you're not comfortable with this..."

"No, it's fine," she says in a small voice. "I'll do it."

"Okay, settled," beams Dylan, mask firmly back in place. "Alice, write up a report tonight that we can send to the board, so they know we're across this. Thanks, everyone. Have a great Sunday!"

"ASSCLOWN!" shouts Tim from the backseat, just a moment before I hit the end call button on the steering wheel.

***

Later. I am at the kitchen table, stabbing angrily at the keys on my laptop, while my 13-year-old daughter Maeve is exercising her newfound interest in baking.

"Grandma and Grandpa are coming for dinner tonight, right?" she asks.

"Shit. I mean, yes." My mind quickly flashes on the elaborate meal I'd planned to make but just as quickly decides screw it. No time. Nothing wrong with Pizza.

***

The problem with social media is that it has a life of its own. It's like Frankenstein's monster. Something jolts it to life, and it lumbers off on its unstoppable, murderous spree. Asking Sandra to jump in front of it is at best pointless and at worst, like giving the monster another 100 volts just as it might have been running itself to ground.

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SANDRAJONES
12 minutes ago

As a person of Indigenous descent, I'm proud to see our culture represented in the mainstream. Couldn't we see this as embracing rather than appropriating? #Justice4WandasGrandad

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WANDAJAY > SANDRAJONES
10 minutes ago

Representation? NorthLodge is making money off our backs. You should be ashamed. Why would you side with them? #Justice4WandasGrandad

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GREATWHITE NORTH
5 minutes ago

Hold up. I just looked up this SandraJones. You'll never guess who she works for! Yup... @northlodge #Justice4WandasGrandad

***

"Vic... what do you want to order when your parents get here?" I ask my husband, who has been cleaning post-muffin chaos in the background.

"I thought we were making that thing with the wine," he says.

By we, he means me, which is normally a satisfactory arrangement for me. Vic does 95% of the household cleaning, and I do 95% of the cooking. The other 10% just doesn't get done.

"That was the plan, but then this thing at work... it's a shit show. I've been heads down on it all day. I thought it'd be easier for us all if we just..."

"I know," he says, coming around to encircle me from behind. "But we ordered the last time they came. It'd be nice if we could..." he pauses, realizing he's in enemy territory now.

I eye the clock. One hour until they arrive.

***

As the brown butter potatoes are edging toward a perfectly golden hue and the chicken's wine jus is starting to waft aromas of tarragon and garlic through the house, my phone goes PING.

I pick it up and see there's been a tweet from Dylan himself in response to the mounting tensions.

--------------------------------------------

DYLAN_STERN_CEO
2 minutes ago

As CEO of NorthLodge, I extend deepest thanks to the Indigenous community for bringing this issue to our attention. We value and respect your concerns.

--------------------------------------------

DYLAN_STERN_CEO
1 minute ago

NorthLodge will remove offending items from shelves immediately. Profits incurred from past sales of these items will be donated to support Indigenous communities across Canada.

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DYLAN_STERN_CEO
Just now

Finally, SandraJones' opinions are her own and do not represent those of the company. She will receive disciplinary training on cultural sensitivity.

***

I lean against the countertop, the caramel smell of an over-cooking dinner in my nose. I can hear my family in the other room; the sounds of grandparents playing a board game with the kids; shouts as the dog attempts to steal playing pieces. Despite these comforts, all I can feel is red, raw, unholy rage.


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