The two of us are privileged in many ways. Things like our education, our skillsets, our incomes and our connections have all contributed to making this project possible. Many of these aspects of our lives are either dwarfed by or related to one crucial piece that has carried us time and time again: our families.
We belong to carefully knit and powerfully loving families that provide both a home base to return to, and pillars of support while we’re on the road. Love surrounds us when we’re in familiar places and when we’re thousands of kilometres from home. That love shows up, with compassion and generosity, in the form of our parents and siblings.
In the last week we’ve been operating at capacity in order to finish preparations before our departure. We’ve been met on the side of a highway at night, been given places to sleep and to store our gear, had pick-ups and drop-offs and everything in between. Our families have been there for us in ways that no one else could and in ways that we can’t adequately describe. When you haven’t got time left in the day, the appearance of someone else—someone you trust—to take on what you need, that’s immeasurable.
Jonathon’s brother cut our hair, for example. For free. At midnight. Using a buzzer borrowed from his parents, brought to Toronto by his sister.
Even when we’re on the road our families will be holding this trip up. Jonathon’s parents will be meeting us in Dawson City to act as our support vehicle on the Yukon’s Dempster Highway. Asad’s sister will be transporting us to and from the airport and shipping boxes of supplies to predetermined locations across the country. And so on.
Maybe it’s that we’re willing to ask our families for help more shamelessly than we would anyone else. More likely, though, they are more willing to show up and uplift both our work and ourselves, because we are privileged to be loved.
