OPINION: Family Should Never Be Fair Game in Political Disputes

Well, here we are again.

Just two weeks ago, I reflected on the departure of good politicians, who had left their roles, worn down by the relentless personal toll that public office had exacted. Today, I’m back with a deeply disheartening tale that underscores the bleak state of political discourse and behaviour. This time, it’s from Ontario, where the toxic environment of local politics has escalated beyond mere verbal abuse.

While scrolling through social media—a habit I maintain to stay informed and scout potential guests for discussions—I came across a troubling post from Councillor Kelsie Van Belleghem, a municipal leader in Northern Ontario. Her story encapsulates much of what’s wrong with the state of political engagement today.

Councillor Van Belleghem shared her experience with a local Facebook “rant and rave” page, a space ostensibly created for community discussion but too often devolves into a cesspool of personal attacks and mob mentality. In her post, she recounted an interaction with a former council member who, dissatisfied with her past comments, sought to “cancel” her by airing grievances in this digital public square.

In an admirable display of leadership, Van Belleghem reached out to the individual to offer an apology and clarify her intentions. On the surface, this is how such matters should be resolved: through dialogue and mutual understanding.

Municipal leaders, like anyone else, understand that no decision will ever achieve unanimous support, and mistakes happen because they’re human. But this situation took an ugly turn.

Someone emboldened by social media posted the councillor's parents’ home address on social media. Think about that for a moment. A family that never signed up for public scrutiny, never agreed to the terms of political discourse, suddenly thrust into the crossfire of petty grievances. In her post, Councillor Van Belleghem expressed heartbreak and fear, saying she felt “disheartened", and "genuinely don’t feel safe doing the work anymore.”

Let’s be clear: targeting a politician’s family is shameful. It’s the lowest form of cowardice, a malicious act designed to intimidate, not engage. Families do not sign up for public office when their loved one does. They are not the ones casting votes, attending council meetings, or making decisions.

Have a grievance? Use your vote. Write a letter to the editor. Speak at a council meeting. Better yet, if you feel so strongly, put your name on the ballot. That’s how democracy works. But the moment you drag someone’s family into it, you’ve crossed a line that should never even come close to being crossed.

This behaviour is not a one-off incident. It’s symptomatic of a broader cultural shift where meaningful debate is replaced by personal attacks. Social media has enabled an alarming lack of accountability, allowing people to hurl insults, threats, and private information with little fear of consequence.

For municipal leaders like Councillor Van Belleghem, the job is already challenging. They juggle public service with personal lives, often for modest pay and even less recognition. They do it not for fame or fortune but for their communities. Yet, many are walking away, disillusioned and burned out—not because of the work itself but because of the toxic environment surrounding it.

We are seeing a growing trend of municipal officials resigning mid-term, citing mental health struggles, personal attacks, and relentless online harassment. These are not the “bad apples” leaving; these are often the dedicated, empathetic leaders—the good ones.

It’s 2024, almost 2025. Have we learned nothing? Is this the society we want to be? One where the best among us are driven out because we can’t disagree without resorting to cruelty?

There’s a pernicious argument that often arises when these stories surface. Critics will say, “You knew what you were signing up for” or “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” These dismissive statements ignore the reality that public service should not be synonymous with abuse.

Imagine you’re a mother of three boys, or a father of two young girls, and your vote on a council issue prompts someone to post your child’s school address online. The stress and fear this creates are unimaginable. And yet, it’s becoming a grotesque norm. First, it’s the parents. Then, where does it end? With the children themselves?

There’s no excuse for this behaviour. None. And we need to stop normalizing the idea that it’s just part of the job. It’s not.

Councillor Van Belleghem is one of the good ones. Her post reflects a deep commitment to her community, a willingness to own her mistakes, and a desire to make amends. Yet, her experience illustrates why many others are stepping away.

To those who think it’s fair game to attack public servants through their families, I ask you: Would you want your address or your children’s school information posted online in retaliation for your job performance? If the answer is no, then you need to take a hard look at your actions.

And to the person who posted Van Belleghem’s family address: take it down. Reflect on the damage you’re causing, not just to her but to the broader fabric of our democracy. If you’re that passionate about change, run for office yourself. But be prepared to face the scrutiny and challenges head-on, not hide behind a keyboard.

As a society, we need to do better. Social media, while a powerful tool for connection and advocacy, has become a breeding ground for division and hostility. It’s time we hold ourselves and each other accountable for how we engage.

Disagree passionately but respectfully. Advocate for your views without resorting to personal attacks. Address issues directly with those involved instead of airing grievances in public forums designed to stoke outrage.

Municipal leaders are not making decisions based on Facebook rants. They rely on reports, consultations, and face-to-face conversations with their constituents. If you want to be heard, engage through these proper channels. If you want to criticize, do so constructively. Anything less does a disservice to the democratic process and undermines the very change you seek.

To Councillor Van Belleghem: You are not alone. Your courage and commitment are noticed and appreciated by those who value decency in public service. And for every person who tries to bring you down, countless others stand behind you, ready to support the work you’re doing.

To the rest of us: It’s time to reflect on the kind of political culture we want to foster. Are we going to continue down this path of hostility and division, or will we choose to support and uplift the good ones before they’re all gone? The choice is ours, but the consequences of inaction are clear. Let’s do better—for ourselves, for our communities, and for the leaders who still have the courage to serve.