This Kentuckian’s trip to Canada was met with curiosity, sadness, and pity | Opinion

For several years, my husband and I have dreamed of taking a trip to the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario, Canada, which arcs into Lake Huron north of Detroit. On its western side are miles of sandy beaches; from the peninsula’s peak in Tobermory, its eastern shore is part of the Niagara escarpment, dramatic cliffs which form the Georgian Bay.

This past summer, with the President of the United States regularly threatening Canadian sovereignty and insulting their Prime Minister, we decided it was a good time to support our neighbors. We wondered, though: what must Canadians think of us now? Would we even be welcome?

The customs agent was brisk but let us in, and soon we were driving north through charming villages and along the miles of sandy beaches that open onto the exquisitely clear, vast waters of Lake Huron.

Right away we noticed the flags, so many, bright red and white, with the iconic maple leaf in the center. From homes and balconies, businesses and road stops, Canadians were flying their national flag everywhere we went.

We wondered if this was in response to the US president’s ugly rhetoric.

“Oh yes,” said a person we met near the beach. “It’s the only good thing about this. He’s pulled all of Canada together, united us as never before.”

This person, like all the other Canadians we met during our eight days there, was warm and friendly, though there was always a moment when the casual chats in lines and in restaurants and on ferries turned to curiosity about where we were from. Every time, people hesitated at our response. A beat, and then another, and then my husband or I would say quite firmly, “We’re here to support Canada this summer.”

The tension eased then, and the Canadians opened up. I expected outrage, and there was certainly some of that, but more than anger there was a resoluteness, a deep sense of purpose. Everyone we spoke with is boycotting the US. They aren’t buying our goods. They have cancelled their trips here. Those who own property here are selling. As I advised my daughters when dealing with mean girl bullies in middle school, the Canadians are finding other, better, friends.

In addition to the hurt, anger, and resolve, the Canadians are also deeply perplexed. Why are Americans letting this happen to our country — blow after blow to our well-being and our status in the world? Canceling cancer research — good God, why? Wrecking our health care system while giving tax breaks to the wealthy, lying about vaccines and ceding the future of renewable energy to China — that’s just crazy. Abusing our longtime allies and destabilizing the world order that has kept us safe for 80 years — it makes no sense!

One conversation stood out. Kentucky produces 95% of all the bourbon in the world. Until recently, Ontario, Canada was Kentucky’s largest market. But now, Canadians have pulled all the Kentucky Bourbon from their shelves in protest. They miss it, yes, but no one wants to buy bourbon, or anything else, from us.

During that conversation, I thought about my Congressman, Andy Barr, who is paid $174,000 a year to protect the interests of Kentuckians in the Sixth District. Barr has been silent on the consequences of the tariffs and the bullying, so focused on his upcoming bid for the U.S. Senate, so eager for a pat on the head from this president, that he’s willfully blinding himself to the very real damage this administration is doing to the constituents he took an oath to serve.

It was a relief to get away from the relentless news cycle for a week and immerse ourselves in nature. We took hikes through cedar forests to stunning vistas, traveled to an uninhabited island, swam in waters that were crystal clear and Caribbean blue — and bracingly cold. We remembered the extraordinary beauty of the world.

Yet on our way back, sailing through customs because there were no lines — no one from Canada was waiting to enter the United States— the chorus of voices kept resonating.

“We are so sorry for what is happening to you.”

“He’s ruining your country, it’s very hard to see.”

“We are worried about our friends in the States, and we miss them.”

It struck me then, the new experience I was having. I have lived and worked and traveled in a dozen countries over my life. As a citizen of the United States, I’ve been met with a whole spectrum of responses: gratitude, resentment, admiration, anger, curiosity, and envy.

Never before, though, not once, have I been met with pity.

Lexington resident Kim Edwards is author of the international bestseller “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter,” and other books.

This story was originally published October 1, 2025 at 9:10 AM.