Your “F*ck Trudeau” and “F*ck Cancer” Signs Mean Nothing to Me

Here in Canada, we’re into our second week of significant protests—in our country’s capital of Ottawa, in our provincial capitals, and even in our smaller communities.

I get it. We’re into the third year of COVID. What we thought might be a short societal blip has altered our world forever. We’re angry, we’ve lost family and friends and jobs, and we’ve had to change our way of living. Many of us have lost hope. Families are divided, and ongoing restrictions have left us frustrated.

But the protesters carrying signs that read, “F*ck Trudeau” or “F*ck (insert name or institution here)” leave me shaking my head.

Angry? Sounds like it. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that. But what does that sign actually mean? What are you trying to say?

I was taught that instead of employing expletives, choose words that better express how you feel. Now, I cuss like a sailor sometimes, likely more when I’m drunk, and the f-word slides off my tongue when I’m speaking passionately about something. A couple of years before my dad died, I stopped worrying about using it in front of him. I’m no prude when it comes to salty, juicy lingo.

But protesting requires more from protesters. To effectively argue or protest, one must be able to articulate the 'what' and the ‘why’. Why are you angry? What has gone wrong? What do you expect to happen? Why are you marching or gathering or donating money?

Being angry without offering up an idea or a solution is simply a tantrum.

And protesters without alternatives are simply mobs.

“F*ck Trudeau” says little about your cause. You’re pissed. Full stop. It’s not a shorthand message for anything else but that. And it’s not good enough.

Again, I’m not arguing against protests, I’m offering up an alternative.

Look at the why.

I’ve seen clever signs, placards that describe a personal situation, or a reason why that sign is appropriate. “I’m a restaurant chef who can’t afford to feed my family” reflects a genuine perspective on lockdowns. We can empathize. “My child with autism needs to be in school” or “My kids’ mental health is better with team sports” … ok, we can see where you’re coming from. Help us understand. An unfocused “f*ck” does "f*ck" all to help.

Of course, you’re angry. We’re all f*cking pissed. We’ve had enough. We need to see some positive action, some love, some heartfelt recognition that we’re all in boats, but some are in cruisers while others are in punctured dinghies. Nah, I’m not drunk. I’m simply bewildered and anxious, like most of us.

And while I’m at it, here’s another crappy misuse of the verb that does so much for us. (Well, it does; it has hundreds of nuances and usages, and that’s not even including its use as a noun, an adverb, or as part of a compound word).

Here goes:

“F*ck Cancer” is just a godawful missed opportunity.

When I see it on bumper stickers, or posted on social media, I cringe. Again, not because I am immune to the horror of cancer. It has killed my close relatives and dear friends…some of them, at execrably tender ages.

Yes, we’re angry at cancer. And we fear it. And we have every reason to be angry and afraid. We check for lumps and bumps and aches and we hope for early detection.

We also fight it, and search for cures, and raise money for research. We support wonderful institutions like Gilda’s Club.

So why employ a word that just sounds angry and aggressive? It’s more meaningful to say we fight, we survive, we thrive, we support, and mostly…we care. “F*ck Cancer” sounds worlds away from care.

In both instances, I’m not suggesting that eliminating “f*ck” from protest signs changes everything; without its use, we’ll still be angry and afraid and anxious. But if we’re going to communicate how we feel, what we need to share, and how we can offer up solutions and alternatives, we need to start with language.

And “f*ck”, that word just doesn’t do enough.