In the past couple of weeks, a horrific tragedy has unfolded in Southwestern Ontario. On May 6, Tim Bosma, a 32 year old husband and father of a toddler, went missing. He had posted an ad online to sell his truck, and never returned after going for a test drive with two potential buyers. A massive search ensued, involving the police, the media, and hundreds if not thousands of volunteers. Posters were pinned onto family homes and business windows.
Communities were shaken, and still are.
On May 14, police confirmed that they had found Bosma’s burned remains on a farm near Waterloo. One suspect is in custody, and the police are searching for others. Some believe that this may have been a thrill kill. This horrific incident has consumed my mind for the past two weeks, and my heart aches despite not knowing the family personally.
Shortly after Bosma went missing, we got an email from a friend who worked for years with street youth. He pointed out that homeless people and at-risk teens go missing all the time – yet it doesn’t even make the papers. But the moment a rich white male goes missing, everyone jumps on board.
I heard similar things from others, including anti-trafficking advocates, who wished that the same attention being drawn to this case would be applied to those who are missing from poor and marginalized communities. Native girls and women go missing all the time, often ending up in trafficking rings or in ditches, yet no one seems to care. In British Columbia, a man named Robert Pickton murdered at least 26 women – many of them prostituted women from Vancouver’s East Side – and even though police received tips about something going on at Pickton’s pig farm in connection to the missing women, a full investigation was not a priority.
Missing women from Vancouver's Downtown East end
My husband Jay had a beautiful response in light of the Bosma case, which reflects our heart in this.
Regardless of the fact that one person’s pain is prioritized over another’s, let us not become embittered. Let us not permit it to spoil our loving spirit.
Let us mourn for this man and his family, and tell his story. And let us also mourn for those who society considers to be the “least of these,” those who have been forgotten and marginalized.
We must let this be an opportunity to expose our own racisms and prejudices, and a chance to learn or re-learn what true, unbiased compassion looks like.
Pain is real, whether one is rich or poor, white or black, young or old, celebrated or marginalized. Refusing to take part in one person’s pain will not alleviate that of another.
This crime has wounded many of us because it is closer to home than ever before. Perhaps this is an indication that many of us are living in a bubble of safety and complacency, where we can avoid the painful realities of those who have not had the same opportunities.
The memorial service for Tim Bosma is taking place on Wednesday, May 22. This is a time for us to mourn with those who mourn, and my hope is that this would be a starting point for extending this love to those in our communities that have been forgotten.
We can do both. We can enter into mourning with the Bosma family, and we can enter into the pain of those on the margins. Our hearts have a capacity to love greatly.
My sincere condolences go to Tim’s family during this difficult week, as well as to those whose loved ones have been forgotten.
While I agree that there are many communities/people groups whose position on the margins of society means they do not receive the same care and concern as, say, a Tim Bosma, there are also other factors that play into non-reporting a missing person. Having worked with at-risk teens, many of whom would go missing for stretches of time, I know that it would be simply impossible to put out an alert every time one went missing. It seems that part of the reason Tim’s case received so much attention, so quickly, is because it was clearly so out of character for Tim to disappear (and because of that, the possibility that foul play was involved much more likely). In my own experience, as sad as it is to say, many of the youth I worked with lived such chaotic lives that to disappear for stretches of time was, for lack of a better word, “normal.” It didn’t mean I worried any less about them (I didn’t), but that our response to it was different than if, say, my boss was to fail to show up to work for a few days without telling anyone.
All this to say that I don’t know whether the difference in response between the two can simply be chalked up to privilege, or, if it is, the privilege lies not in how people respond to being “missing,” but in the myriad of factors that go into creating a Tim Bosma or an at-risk teen.
Matt, very well put. Thanks so much. I agree that these are very complex issues, and that reporting a missing person looks very different based on what the lifestyle, background, and community a person has. My hope is that this post gets all of us to look at our own lives and be willing to address prejudices we may have, and take action wisely. Myself included. I am personally so encouraged that the community rallied around the Bosma family in such an incredible way, and such a response is what I hope I would experience in a similar situation. What a gift. My hope is that we would get to know people on the margins personally, so everyone would have community to rely on and search for them, should something similar happen.
I read your article with great interest since the Bosma situation happened very close to me.
I have great concern in that you are not doing an apples to apples comparison here.
You are describing two very different people types here.
In the Bosma case there is a great crowd of family and friends that Tim embraced. Those very people were the “push” behind the attention this situation received. Before the police gave a report, it was on social media and spread like wildfire.
In the case of homeless people and at-risk teens going missing where are the people that should be that “push” to get it out there? Who are they?
I have volunteered at shelters and met people you speak of. They have removed themselves from typical family and friend situations for a variety of reasons. Several have told me its because they cannot cope with it, often due to mental illness and other situations beyond their control.
This has more to do with the people who love and care for you then being “a rich white male”.
As for your friend who “worked for years with street youth” I hope he/she was there to “push” those situations into the forefront and get people to jump on board. If the ones closest to you don’t, who will?
By trying to use social status as the reason for the Bosma situation being so high profile you are exposing your own racism and prejudice.
The public outcry was because someones life was on the line for a pickup truck. This situation exposed how low a human being is willing to go for money.
Clearly you have a heart for the forgotten and marginalized and my hope also is that this would be a starting point for extending this love to those in our communities that have been forgotten.
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing”.
Thanks so much Barry for your comment. I am deeply sorry for the loss that you have experienced, and despite not knowing Tim or his family personally, this tragedy weighs heavily on my heart daily. I appreciate that you took the time to express your thoughts, especially in such a time as this.
I wrote this post as a response to what I was hearing from several people. People who were experiencing thoughts that they wished they did not have, but did. I was on the receiving end of a lot of frustration and discouragement, and felt that I needed to write a post addressing these. My intention certainly was not place any judgment on anyone, but to encourage those who have been hurt by the lack of attention for their missing or murdered loved ones to not give up on love. It is a hard journey to mourn with someone who mourns when no one stood with you when you were mourning. Becoming embittered would feel like the knee-jerk response, but I believe we are capable of more.
I understand that the term “rich white male” can come across as very offensive. Please know that I do not view Tim Bosma as a rich white male, but as a human being. This being said, many times society labels people as “trailer trash” or “just a hooker” or “Native drunks” – dismissing them as less than human. These types of labels, even if they are not always spoken out loud, can perpetuate the struggles of those on the margins. The least vulnerable people on this planet, generally speaking, are wealthy/middle class white men. We cannot dismiss that this did not play at least a small part in how engaged everyone was with this case (though I do believe there was other, much stronger reasons for the outcry).
I agree 100% that the public outcry was because someones life was on the line for a pickup truck. And that the community around Bosma was incredible in their response. And that this was out of his character, alerting the police immediately that something was seriously wrong. My hope is not that our response to this would be anything less – my hope is that our response to every tragedy is just as great.
Thank you for sharing your heart Barry. My heart aches with yours, and all those who shared life with Tim.