Collecting COVID-19 History: Protest, Resistance and Celebration

In January 2022, tensions over COVID restrictions hit a boiling point. A massive protest convoy of trucks and other vehicles descended on downtown Ottawa. The so-called “Freedom Convoy” became an encampment, causing gridlock in the downtown core. It was eventually broken up by the federal government’s controversial exercise of the Emergencies Act.

The protesters were resisting what they called government tyranny. Many trucks blocked the street in front of Parliament while others roamed the downtown area, horns blaring and flags waving. Public transit had to be rerouted. Businesses were forced to close because so many protestors refused to wear masks. Residents reported intimidating and aggressive behaviour as well as racist and anti-science messaging from the protesters.

After two and a half weeks, some locals had had enough.

In the middle of February, a group of Ottawa residents gathered at the corner of Bank Street and Riverside Drive, where Billings Bridge crosses the Rideau River. This is one of only a few routes north to Ottawa’s downtown.

They were there to blockade Billings Bridge to prevent more Freedom Convoy demonstrators from joining the main encampment. A few dozen counter-protesters in the morning swelled into a large crowd, hundreds strong, by the evening.

Patrick McCurdy was there. “They are self-described as moms and dads and dog walkers and they just stepped in front of some cars and blockaded them,” he says.

On that day, they blocked 35 trucks from reaching the demonstration in downtown Ottawa.

McCurdy is a professor at the University of Ottawa who studies social movements, protest and mainstream media. When the one-year anniversary of the so-called “Battle of Billings Bridge” came around, he created a faux brass plaque commemorating it. The design was intended to mimic official City of Ottawa heritage plaques.

The plaque reads:

Importantly, McCurdy had created two identical plaques. When the first plaque disappeared, he created a Reddit account in the name of the plaque, revealed the existence of the second copy, and asked for ideas about what to do.

Trepanier saw this as a great opportunity for the Museum. He says, “The plaque is really an interesting example of using commemoration somewhat subversively, but also of a particularly significant moment during the pandemic. That citizen response was a very key moment.”

He reached out to McCurdy and secured the plaque for the collection at the Canadian Museum of History.

The plaque is an intentional and durable object that tells a complicated pandemic story about policy, politics and protest. But a lot of the material culture that tells the story of the pandemic was more everyday, even throwaway. “Things like disposable masks, things that we don’t think twice about now, but at the beginning of the pandemic were quite new for many of us,” says Trepanier.

The Museum team looked around at the sudden and sweeping social changes brought about by the pandemic and sought out opportunities to collect relevant materials. The pandemic brought dramatic change, but it also highlighted persistent, systemic inequalities. Trepanier says, “We all had to live with the reality of the virus, but that reality looked different across region, class and racial status, often exacerbating existing inequalities and tensions.”

He says they asked themselves, “What kind of objects would speak to that experience of the combination of isolation of the first year in the first rounds of lockdowns, or various stay-at-home measures that were in place? And how did Canadians try to recreate their communities and sense of solidarity with each other?”

This included the many signs people put up on lawns or in windows expressing gratitude for essential workers and faith in their community. “Of course, those are very ephemeral,” says Trepanier. “Not very many people have kept those.” The Museum has collected a variety of pandemic signs, both of solidarity and protest. “Some more controversial ones would include voices and perspectives from folks who were opposed to public health measures,” Trepanier says.

Having this collection of materials will help the Museum tell the story of the COVID-19 pandemic to future generations of Canadians. How that story is told will change as its lived memory becomes more distant.

In the next 10 or 20 years, an exhibition about the pandemic could count on visitors remembering it and sharing their stories. Trepanier says, “Having that conversation is a very intimate way to connect with the past.”

But once memories fade and the generations move on, an exhibition would have to look quite different. “Who knows where medical technology will be?” asks Trepanier. “It might seem like a very foreign thing to stick a swab up your nose to test for a virus.”

“The further you get down the line, the more foreign the past becomes,” he says. “And so, the onus to contextualize and put people back into that period gets a little higher.”