I Remember Laurier: Reflections by Retirees on Life at WLU

20. Making Canadian History

Iarrived in waterloo in 1972 on the same day that the ndp swept into power in British Columbia. It was a propitious moment in my passage. I knew of Kitchener-Waterloo only by reputation, my pianist mother recommending the musical creativity of my destination highly. The financial stability of the region and its diversity in the economic sphere were, as advertised, self-evident on my arrival. I recall that first night, with its languid late-August air—a relief from the searing heat of the afternoon—and I awaited the next day with a keen sense of duty. It was time to get to work. At my interview the previous February I had been struck by the collegiality of faculty and staff alike. The students had gone out of their way to parade the fine quality of their instructors. We chatted in the Torque Room, then the heart of conversation and friendship. Later, Erich Shultz, the university librarian, showed me the stacks, notably the history shelves, where I was pleased to find all the great jewels in my fields of interest, lovingly recommended for purchase by historian Welf Heick and others who cared about library acquisitions. When exiting one university (Western Washington University, in this instance), it is always wise to see what books familiar to you are to be found at the destination institution. I attended the faculty meeting, held upstairs in what was then the Central Teaching Building—incredibly spartan in its cinder-block construction . The room where we met possessed a vaulted view to the north Chapter 20  Making Canadian History barry gough 102 and west over the hundred-acre farms that stood out towards St. Jacobs and beyond—the towns on the margins, as it were, little entities unto themselves—and well worth exploring over the coming years in the company of new friends Gerry Noonan, Bob McCauley, and Edna Staebler. Each year we traversed a new circuit, perhaps looking in on a buggy works, exploring some artist’s aerie, or examining some vintage public house in deepest Wellesley. Our commuter students came from many of these locales, and our student body was peppered with elementary school teachers from those towns finishing their bachelor’s degrees.We had a strong representation from the Celtic fringe of Ontario—Lambton and Elgin counties across to the Bruce and Grey areas—which much later gave way to urbanites trekking west from Mississauga and Toronto. This, then, was my new Canada. It was altogether different from my home port of Victoria, B.C., the world at its oceanic portal. Here in southern Ontario the economic engines were different: agriculture, financial services, insurance, manufacturing of all sorts, and academia, all living in harmony, though many of those companies had sold their operations to American corporations —another side of the story. Democratic institutions had marked the community since the 1830s, underlying the egalitarianism I sensed day to day. The burgher class of old Waterloo County still existed, though many summered in Muskoka and wintered in Florida, timing their return to their native hearth just in time to sign their annual tax statements and keep their OHIP in force. When I arrived, the university had about two thousand students and a commensurately small faculty. Inaccurately labelled “Last Chance U,” it had some of the brightest students imaginable, including one of them, Sean Conway, my teaching assistant, who was elected to the Ontario legislature , served as a cabinet minister, and now teaches at Queen’s University .On inquiry,I discovered that many of our graduates who had become teachers in Ontario schools had recommended WLU to their students. A fine tribute. There and then we developed the hugely successful annual history teachers conferences held conveniently on one of the teachers’ professional development days. Drawing high school teachers from southwestern Ontario, we brought them up to date on the burning issues of barry gough 103 our profession—and shared good collegiality as co-workers in the history business. We worked closely with the history teachers in Waterloo Region, some of whom had key connections to WLU, notably Harold Russell, Bill Weiler, and Jack Sinkins. The conference kept WLU front and centre in the minds of high school teachers as a place dedicated to good instruction. They repaid us by sending us their best students. My colleagues shared in the enthusiasm of this enterprise. It continues to this day. My past travels and education...